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LETTERS, 
 
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LETTERS 
 
 OF A 
 
 CITIZEN HABERDASHER 
 
 TO A YOUNG FRIEND. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR, BY 
 
 R. MACDONALD, 30, GREAT SUTTON STREET, 
 
 CLERKENWELL. 
 
 1847. 
 

 205449 
 '13 
 
£ 
 
 LETTERS, 
 
 X. 
 
 February 13, 1844. 
 Art thou still amidst the living, my dear Mary 
 
 or clean gone out of existence ? you seem at least hidden 
 from mortal eye, "like a violet upon a sunny bank." It 
 appears an age since I have heard from you ; — have you 
 forgotten us, — "the old familiar faces?" 
 
 I cannot help communicating to you the visit I had 
 last week from Dame Fortune, She gave me, that is, 
 she gave me and my partner, one of the wonders of the 
 world, — gave it to Haberdashers !— - a gift fit only for a 
 king, or a university. It cost a pains-taking man of 
 vertu nearly a life-time to get together, ami, it is said, 
 three thousand guineas in addition. It is " Bowyer's 
 Bible," — a collected series of illustrations of Bible story, 
 amounting to seven thousand engravings, bound to- 
 gether in one work, in 47 volumes folio. Of course it 
 stands alone in the world ; and is as remarkable for the 
 beauty and variety of the plates, as for the great labour 
 and patient spirit exercised in its compilation. This the 
 goddess of Fortune has awarded to us; she has passed 
 over the heads of the talented, the noble, and the rich, 
 and has given it up to the desecration of buyers and 
 sellers of " small wares." I feel some commiseration for 
 poor Bowyer ; for, if it be possible that the defunct can 
 know anything of earth's transactions, he must feel a 
 little uneasy in his grave. We want to sell it ; we look 
 
upon it as merchandise ; we value his " labour of love" 
 by Mammon's sliding scale, barbarians as we are ! 
 
 Perhaps, after all, this sale may be a comfort to poor 
 Bowyer; for, like him, it may find a fit place of rest 
 some early day. 
 
 When I last heard from you — twelve months ago — you 
 spoke of soon being in town. I will presume, however, 
 your visit has been deferred ; as, surely, we must have 
 been remembered. My wife desires me to present her 
 kindest regards to you, your dear father, and your bro- 
 ther; all of whom, we hope, are quite well. Include 
 me in this expression of regard ; and believe me always, 
 your's most sincerely. 
 
 II. 
 
 March 16, 1844. 
 
 It would indeed be a treat to me to run through the 
 Bible with you. I should watch attentively the expres- 
 sion of lhat demure face of yours on seeing some of the 
 illustrations. Many of the old masters had such a simple 
 way, so direct a way, of illustrating facts — of painting 
 words. It always astonishes me to see the undisturbed 
 faces of females in our churches when some of the lessons 
 are being read ; so, I suppose, you might quietly get 
 over this difficulty. However, the trial would be a smart 
 one; the affair is put so palpably. There are fifty or 
 sixty illustrations, by different artists, in different cen- 
 turies, of the Temptation ; and some of them might be- 
 wilder you somewhat. Some are richly fanciful; but 
 some, of the Dutch school, one cannot help laughing at, 
 and thanking God also, that woman must be better than 
 these, if one could but see her naked. 
 
 I am sorry to hear you are so tied at home through 
 your father's illness ; still the cause is good; and, after all, 
 " in our duty lies the fountain of our joy." I am a closer 
 prisoner than you ; perhaps no man sees so little of life as 
 I see — under the same power at least. My wife is gayer 
 than I am — goes hither and thither as she pleases ; but 
 when at home, she works hard, and keeps every other 
 wheel active too : my house is set in good order. 
 
 And so you complain that your intellect is stagnant ; 
 that there is no great warmth there, no life-giving seed. 
 
-Wherefore ? Your galloping on horseback won't give it* 
 I would advise you to set up some idolatry — to impose 
 some devotedness ; you have no idea what a new impulse 
 it would create within. Your study of gardening is a 
 good occupation. I have been attempting to beat you in 
 growing peas ; but the pigeons have destroyed my hopes. 
 Do you know, peas transplant uncommonly well ? I have 
 been raising some in a greenhouse, and they bear removal 
 better, I think, than any vegetable. 
 
 You ask me, if I have been writing lately ? Yes, nearly 
 every day — such love-letters ! But you shall see " Uncle 
 John," after he is "filled up." 
 
 III. 
 
 June" 27, 1844. 
 
 Oh ! but you are wrong in saying, "There's no pleasing 
 you." Your letter of yesterday pleased me very much. 
 You may now see, you can move, if you only have pro- 
 vocation — perhaps it may have struck you, that all of us 
 are better for that. 
 
 I don't think much of your judgment of character by 
 handwriting ; it is more absurd, has less foundation, even 
 than Phrenology ; and that is a mere mystery, a kind of 
 happy guess, at the best. Judging of you, however, by 
 something different from your hand or external head — 
 rather by what you permit to be seen of the internal 
 convolution — I should say, that you are capable of 
 deep feeling, earnest action, and enduring pertinacity, 
 that could carry you to any point of success, or through 
 any amount of suffering, to the honour of woman's heroic 
 character ; and yet now, through the absence of a strong 
 power upon you, you are quiescent almost to softness, 
 and inert almost to laziness, and possessing little true 
 patience of spirit either. Oh ! don't be offended — don't 
 suffer that cheek to burn ! As is always said, I mean it 
 kindly. Can you really bear with it? at least, have your 
 revenge. I want " a little filip" of this sort ; it would 
 really be useful to me. T will thank you in proportion to 
 its severity. 
 
 I know I am obstinate ; but can you tell me where the 
 line is drawn between obstinacv and firmness. This has 
 b 2* 
 
8 
 
 been a long study of mine — the boundary I never yet 
 could see, or at least get recognised by another. Your 
 judgment upon a certain lady is about correct — perhaps 
 a little severe. However, as she is a woman, you ought to 
 know something of the "hidden strings." Is it true 
 though, that vulgar saying, that you women are always 
 more merciful to the men ? 
 
 I do love Sarah Paget ; I love her because she is sin- 
 cere and unsophisticated, a natural girl: perhaps I do 
 not love her the less because she has many of the little 
 failings of your sex ; she is a little too animal perhaps— 
 not quite enough under a spirituality ; but you know, I 
 have an odd mental twist about these things. 
 
 My wife has been reading this letter, and really hopes 
 I shall have offended you, if only to teach me to be more 
 careful in stating my sentiments. I have been oftentimes 
 unfortunate through my bluntness : think it playful, even 
 if you will say, It is bear's play ! 
 
 The other day, a gentleman was overwhelming me by 
 religious denunciation— (you know I am a great sinner) — 
 and said, Every thing, every thought, every deed, is tainted 
 with evil ; that evil was in every place — the Devil was 
 present in every act of man's life. I greatly shocked him 
 by asking, if the Devil is omnipresent? The dilemma 
 bewildered him. 
 
 Thanking you for your long and kind letter : and some- 
 what commiserating your imprudence in promising early 
 answers to such a verbose old fellow, believe me, &c. 
 
 IV. 
 
 [The following letter was written in a feigned hand, and from Sandgate, 
 for the purpose of mystifying his Correspondent.] 
 
 July 17, 1844. 
 Now I have determined to puzzle you. I have deter- 
 mined to excite your woman's curiosity, and not to gratify 
 it. Look as ardently as you will, you will find no clue, 
 nothing to conclude upon ; for I have intended to repre- 
 sent another's writing, both word and thought, on very 
 purpose to mislead you. I am here a few days for a 
 little fresh air, which I am desired to take in extra quan- 
 tity by active walking. I have just returned from the 
 
9 
 
 Downs. I have been talking to the sheep there, for the 
 sake of the variety and change recommended to me ! I 
 have asked several, whether the monotony of their life is 
 not as satisfying as the living uproar and diversity of a 
 great city? Whether the contented poverty of their ex- 
 istence is not as good as the accumulated wealth of the 
 civic crown ? Whether many and varied thoughts are 
 more excellent than the chewing of the cud ? Whether 
 the bleak wind, and hot sun, and short commons, are not 
 as good as the craving desire, the mental anxiety, and the 
 used power of riches? These things I have asked of 
 their innocent faces. The answer is deferred ; but when 
 I receive, it, you shall have it, as a curiosity. I looked 
 inquisitively into many of their faces (for sheep even 
 have varied expression of countenance — of intelligence, I 
 venture to say) ; I thought they seemed to answer, " What 
 more can you boast of.' What know you of to-morrow ? 
 Do you know what poverty is really ; or whether health 
 and content are not equivalents for whatsoever you pos- 
 sess? I felt considerably sinking in my own estimation, 
 until I remembered you — that they could not commune, 
 even across a hedge-row, whereas I could exchange sen- 
 timents with my fellows, any distance away — ay, even 
 though dead, through the thoughts they had left behind 
 them. Distance, to them, is " a great fact," as the 
 Times says of " The League :" with me, it is a thing of 
 the imagination, and pervious to my way at every mo- 
 ment. I am with you now — hear the tone of your voice, 
 and see the thoughts rise in sympathy with mine. Is this 
 coming near to a sheep's nature? Some friends of mine, 
 however, would think me mad, to say, that our chiefest 
 advantage over a sheep is in the imagination only — in the 
 unsubstantial spirituality of the thoughts—in that which 
 is independent of animal quality, of the grosser senses, — - 
 something more than mutton ! 
 
 Last evening I sat on the beach musing. I could just 
 see the outline, the curve, of the " great ball;" and thought 
 of the " wide waste of waters," as man calls it. The 
 object, surely, is not alone to carry u ships to and fro ;" 
 there must be a design of something else besides money- 
 getting, in all this movement of the changing sea. Yet 
 I have many friends who would believe that if God had 
 
10 
 
 another object, a separate object, He has wasted his time, 
 and done foolishly. Do you know where the centre of a 
 worldly man's mind is ? and from what source or foun- 
 tain every train of ideas arises ? Can you tell me, if such 
 thoughts are good for the long usage of man's continu- 
 ance ? and whether " another theory " is not worth setting 
 up? 
 
 I wonder what the French are doing over there — 
 their coast I can see now ; — I wonder what is the great 
 rage there. I have been told, it is the love of glory ; 
 but is that not a mistake, or misnomer? Glory should 
 be a religion — something to awaken and unfold the 
 inward man; something to expand his soul to greater 
 purposes; he should love his neighbours as if he and 
 they made up the great soul of life. 
 
 Have you read Carlyle's " Sartor Resartus," and 
 " Hero Worship," — Emerson's " Essays," — and Miss 
 Martineau's " How to Observe?" These would form 
 your thoughts in another mould — give your judgment a 
 different calcule ; then read Priestley's and Arnold's 
 "Historical Essays," and Guizot's "Civilization of 
 Europe." I think this short literary run would put a new 
 habit on your intelligence. 
 
 Alas for poor man ! we are run into such a complica- 
 tion, into such an entangled brake, as to make it difficult 
 to see whether we are by design abandoned to our own 
 folly, or whether we are still under the influence of God; 
 — there seems such a balance, such contrary forces, such 
 a struggle for ascendancy between good and evil. What 
 acts upon you — yourself or another ? the difference is 
 very important. 
 
 Hark at the roaring of the tide upon the beach ! — 
 from what time did it begin ? Of the effect of that, what 
 you know is chiefly its unhappy power on man. And 
 yet we not only boldly teach of the earth's progress from 
 the womb of time, but of the laws arranged by God for 
 all time, and for our futurity ! For the life of me, I 
 cannot make out whether we know much or little — 
 something-, or absolutely nothing. Lo ! now, I am 
 close at hand, just by your shoulder — Who am I? 
 Ever your's. 
 
11 
 
 V. 
 
 July 23, 1844. < 
 Well, I am glad my wife's prophecy is good for 
 nothing. 1 must confess, however, I was afraid. I 
 would not have trusted many girls with so plain a state- 
 ment. Such love as mine is of a difficult quality — hard 
 to digest — a little bitter, and very parental ! I am glad 
 you are merciful ; and still more, merciful enough to 
 testify also to my descent from the clouds at Sandgate. 
 You know it was consistent with my " mystification" to 
 take poetic liberty for that purpose. Nevertheless, I 
 declare to you, I never wrote more on a level with my 
 ordinary thought; for I am always swimming in such 
 muddy water — always extravagantly pursuing such 
 "will-o'-wisps." Still, however, my nature is essen- 
 tially religious, — not in words, according to man's parti- 
 cular creeds, but in mental build, in a loving and merci- 
 ful spirit, and in a trusting and hopeful sense of goodness. 
 In God I trust ; but I am doubtful of man's dogmas, of 
 his knowledge of God's counsel, and of his multiform 
 explanation. The progress of popular belief through the 
 ages of the world, and the variety of the belief of this 
 present day, must make every thoughtful mind hesitate 
 and fear. Authority amounts to nothing; honest and 
 bold declaration, to nothing; power and persuasion, to 
 nothing; — every way has been tried upon every variety, 
 and— set aside. But if you are happy in believing what 
 is told you, because some things of what they tell you 
 are true and evident, believe still : you may still keep a 
 clean heart, and pure spirit, under almost any dogma, if 
 you will ; and if so, who can say you are betrayed ? 
 
 I have not the power to believe in the exclusive spirit 
 of our popular belief. I read, there are many entrances 
 into existence — several ways into the sheepfold ; if not, 
 woe unto man ! for his is a doomed family, — and creation, 
 as a whole, is designed for destruction rather than for 
 salvation. The works I recommended to you would 
 never shake your faith, if it be worthy of that name. 
 You say, " We see darkly :" do you think God has 
 designed that we should see better? If above our com- 
 prehension, was the doctrine meant for our belief? Our 
 
12 
 
 duty is plain; our monitor is always with us; "only 
 lowly listen, and you shall hear the right words, in the 
 evening breeze or by the stormy sea/* 
 
 The " Sartor Resartus" is not a religious book, but a 
 bantering kind of philosophy ; an inquiry into the effect 
 of man's habits — how they guide and rule him. The 
 " How to Observe," is simply a teaching of the way to 
 build a sound judgment; the way to examine the ele- 
 ments of things, so as to lead to their comprehension 
 more easily. Guizot, however, gives the natural history 
 of religion — its effects upon civilization and the indivi- 
 dual man. He is likely to disturb you ; for he asks for 
 the progress, the unfolding of mankind through its 
 power, and exhibits the progress through and under the 
 influence of education. 
 
 Mais c'est assezi I do indeed write to you freely, 
 too freely; but I expect you to understand more than 
 ordinary girls do understand, not only of the author's 
 purposes, but of my recommendation. I would not 
 make you irreligious, but thoughtful, and a being 
 inclined to cultivate the reason God has given you for 
 your guide in life's journey. 
 
 Poor Sarah Paget! her heart was empty, she felt 
 deserted, an arid desert within; and a dove came to 
 plant an olive branch. What wonder it took root — that 
 the spring of life issued again out of her young heart! 
 O, you girls ! towards man you feel as would be credit- 
 able for thousands to feel towards God ('bating the 
 animal). Love is with you a worship, an abandonment of 
 selfishness, an utter trust ; — alas that you should so 
 often worship a devil, a strutting devil ! 
 
 My head is much disturbed — the sight is unsteady, 
 and the nerves agitated. I feel no pressure; but I feel 
 life to be a great chance for me — a lottery, from which my 
 fate may soon be exhibited. Your's always sincerely. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Brighton, August 5, 1844. 
 Even if I plague you by too often writing, don't say 
 I do : remember, I am in some sort a lonely man, and by 
 habit also I am driven within for recreation and reco- 
 
13 
 
 very. My thoughts travel indeed about the earth, some- 
 times " the stars among." Usually, however, with but 
 few friends have I intercourse, and only with a few do I 
 desire to dwell ; — suffer me to believe, we have some 
 kindred spirit. 
 
 I have been walking this morning upon the beach, and 
 saw three creatures in the sea, as like mermaids as I ever 
 saw. They were dancing and frolicking in the water, 
 with infinite grace; ducking under the wave, and upon 
 it spreading their long hair. They were habited in a 
 flowing robe, it is true; but no Grecian statue ever more 
 delightfully displayed Nature's beauties. I stood en- 
 chanted, like as Ulysses did before the Syrens. Pray 
 don't think me singular in ray infatuation. I saw a 
 girl looking intently over the rails — and, lo ! before her 
 were men in the water, and they had no flowing robes. 
 At Ramsgate they are particularly friendly in this par- 
 ticular; in troops they lie upon the beach, witnessing 
 "the gods bathe;" and one day I saw a girl dip a cup 
 into the sea that came from them, and drink with a 
 devotion that would be edifying to a priesthood. 
 
 I am here with the Roberts's, who have a capital 
 house, which belongs to an old maid; she seems, how- 
 ever, to have the right secret of life's pleasure. She has 
 a capital library, of a thousand volumes, only perhaps 
 a little too theological. The very ornaments seem to 
 express her habits ; there's a simplicity, almost a cold- 
 ness about them, and indeed about all the furniture, 
 that exhibits a mind whose amusements lie in the fine 
 elements of thought. No work tables, nor signs of 
 woman's handicraft ; but there are three writing tables, 
 and, in the bow window, a regular author's desk. Her 
 uncle was guardian of Ruthin (what is that?) and her 
 grandfather was archbishop of Armagh ; — so, at least, I 
 gather from her writing in the blank pages of some of 
 her books. Is it not singular, that she should have 
 locked up (as I am now told) all her best crockery, and 
 yet have left her best books exposed to the spoiler? — 
 that puzzled me. I think, after all, she has only inhe- 
 rited these good things. 
 
 I went to a Catholic chapel yesterday, and was 
 much edified by the typical worship. I saw msnv a 
 b 5 
 
14 
 
 poor creature there, ignorant of both words and signs, 
 yet kneeling devoutly, and asking for and expecting to 
 receive of the priest's distribution of spiritual bounty. 
 What matters the medium — what be the conducting wire, 
 if the electric influence is well conveyed ? When a man 
 leaves the range of his reason, and expects supernatural 
 impulse or agency from another — why question its likeli- 
 hood or sufficiency ? It was said to a Romanist by a Pro- 
 testant, " How can you believe in such absurdities ? " 
 " Oh ! " said the priest, " I have had no difficulty ever 
 since I swallowed Adam's apple." That reason for 
 the destruction of the world once admitted, every thing 
 else is " straining at a gnat." 
 
 Are you a believer in the " communion of the saints ?" 
 Do you know what that means ? In German mystics 
 there is a good deal of this sentiment exhibited. In their 
 creed, no man thinks good of another without communi- 
 cating some share of the same happy influence; in amount, 
 according to the power of reception. " Who has touched 
 me ?" " Lord, the people press, and sayest thou, who 
 has touched me ? " " Yea ; but a soul in unison has 
 touched me," the answer seems to convey. Adieu. 
 
 P.S. — I make such a mixture, such a jumble of my 
 letters, as often to be very much ashamed of their dis- 
 orderly appearance. You can understand the undress 
 of such a free correspondence, where no particular object 
 is made important. But if you show my letters to other 
 people, they can only think you have the oddest corre- 
 spondent in the world. 
 
 VII. 
 
 August 13, 1844. 
 
 I am glad, at least, that you express a patient endu- 
 rance of my letters. I only expect to be received kindly ; 
 it would be covetous in me to demand regular answers 
 to my " quick-fire." You have nothing to communi- 
 cate, you say — nothing, at least, worth writing about. 
 What is more delightful than simple and truthful con- 
 versational ideas passed in letters ? Must we be sheep, 
 that we must be present to talk ? 
 
 You confess your ignorance amiably, by saying, your 
 
15 
 
 professions of faith are mechanical. "Communion of 
 Saints" is a Platonism (O, don't smile); nevertheless, it 
 is at the very root of the peace of society. It is the com- 
 municated intelligence of like purpose, like hopes, like 
 faith. Believe that one congregation is as one soul be- 
 fore God, how then can you act towards each other ? 
 It is the disseverance, the individuality of selfish pur- 
 pose, that is the source of sin ; and a loving design, in 
 common thought and deed, is the true "Communion of 
 Saints." I am not sure the Church would so explain it, 
 however. 
 
 " Emerson's Essays" can never damage you, — unless, 
 to increase your beneficence to the family of man, from 
 the true intercourse of the spirit, can damage you. Hi^ 
 is the worship of activity, where every spiritual power 
 is employed for one common object of man's happiness. 
 In theory, in position, it looks better, if it does not work 
 better, than abstract faith in a certain range of ideas that 
 act upon us only incidentally. Only believe you com- 
 municate virtue by the spirit, — what a source of gene- 
 rous trust is here opened ! Believe, if you think wrongly 
 of your neighbour, a like impression towards you arises, 
 — what a stop this to hasty passion and iniquity \ 
 
 We are, as you say, creatures of habit; and our religious 
 habit is fearful and melancholic. It is selfish too — iso- 
 lates us too much from our fellows. Of the fair pleasures 
 of life it thinks degradingly and fearfully, — as if these 
 things were not given us of God. Our fears almost alone 
 keep us united to this hard teaching: if the reason and 
 the conscience had free power, they would break away 
 from much of this. As it is, however, the common sense 
 of man acts strongly against this severe teaching; and 
 the Church holds its members by a withe of straw. The 
 Church has but poor creatures, who have reason to ex- 
 claim hourly, " Help thou mine unbelief." 
 
 How strange it is, that all learning sprung up in Egypt. 
 They taught Moses ; they taught astronomy, and divi- 
 nation too; they gave the prophets their clue. They 
 taught the Greeks their religion — peopled their heaven 
 with gods, and, though under another name, the attri- 
 butes were the same. Their god Osiris sat upon the 
 chequered throne of black and white— the emblems of 
 
16 
 
 life and death, of good and evil. In his one hand was 
 the shepherd's crook, in the other the flail, expressive of 
 his power and love. He was their directly ministering 
 god. His superiors took the sprituality of law, i. e. the 
 cause and governance of spiritual power. It would not 
 be difficult to trace, from Wilkinson's " Ancient Egyp- 
 tians," the whole circumstantiality of Moses' governance, 
 in Egyptian worship. His people, indeed, compelled him to 
 go nearer and nearer to its grosser parts ; and that only, 
 because they could understand better the medium. Jesus 
 has been supposed to have been educated in Egypt, or, 
 at least, deeply imbued with the faith of the Essenians, 
 whose belief, even at this day, has all the like spirituality 
 about it, and wants only the useful adaptation to daily 
 life, to be very like the same religion. Their high priests 
 personified spiritual things. Of the " universal prin- 
 ciple," the "oneness" of all great things, they say, "I 
 and my Father are one;" — "I am an emanation of the 
 Deity;" — " He is my father, and I am his son ;" — " Who- 
 soever believeth in me, and doeth my commands, he 
 shall be saved 5 for my commands are, that ye love one 
 another." 
 
 In after times the god Osiris became somewhat un- 
 popular. In fact, in the several districts of Egypt, some 
 one particular divinity had chief sway. Bacchus became 
 a favourite in Lower Egypt; he was "the munificent 
 governor of the universe," who taught man's happiness 
 through innocent joy, rather than by avoiding the terrors 
 of the severe deities. The grapes were his peculiar 
 symbol — the expression of gladness and bounty. They 
 also connected with him the throne of Osiris, the square 
 and chequered seat of black and white. They inscribed 
 these signs on the door-posts of his temples. Man adored 
 there, for God's daily merciful remembrance of man, as 
 well as for being the merciful arbiter of his destiny. 
 
 Now see how man will degenerate. This fine religion 
 of Bacchus is degraded in Greece ; its spirituality is 
 almost left out. It is curious, however, to see the foot- 
 marks of this God now, in our city. Worshippers are 
 still attracted by his symbols, but it is to get drunk. On 
 the door-posts of our gin-temples you will see the grapes 
 and the chequers, before which the knees of the swarthy 
 
17 
 
 sons of Egypt lowly and reverently bended down. Who 
 now are the worshippers ? 
 
 I visited the British Museum the other day, and sat 
 down before Osiris the majestic and solemn. I thought 
 of those ancient people, and of their worship; and I 
 thought of man's history since, and of his religion : and 
 for all the difference of these 2000 or 3000 years, for all 
 the progress made in spiritual guidance by the priest- 
 hood — for all that man has gained by travelling away 
 from his reason and his conscience, and his comprehen- 
 sion both in one — for it all, what would you give? what 
 could you boast of? Osiris is the expression of the infi- 
 nite in man, and of the eternity of his soul ; — man's 
 expression : what know you more ? Mixed and degraded, 
 you say, that worship was. Were you at church on 
 Sunday? "And Ahab was a murderer; and God said, 
 Because you are sorry for your sin, I will revoke my 
 sentence. The evil consequences shall not visit you, but 
 shall visit your son !" Affectionately your's. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 August 14, 1844. 
 
 I herewith send a few books for your amusement. My 
 selection seems poor, and hardly worth the sending so far, 
 and perhaps after all they may not suit your taste. 
 
 " Macaulay's Essays" are very interesting — (always 
 understand, to me). They are a review of men and things, 
 written in a manly spirit, and under a fine philosophic 
 conception of character. They are useful, clear, graphic, 
 and, as a composition, inimitable. " Thierry's Norman 
 Conquest" is the most picturesque, and the most interest- 
 ing, of any history I have read. There the olden times 
 stand before you— not only bodily, as facts, but as influ- 
 ences, acting even now. Its distinctness in tracing causes 
 and following events, and its full information upon every 
 useful point, are remarkable beyond any comparison. 
 
 " Channing's Essays" I recommend to you. " Priest- 
 ley's Lectures" will give you many new ideas, or at least 
 place you in a different position to study history. Of 
 Carlyle's books I am afraid to speak; every one con- 
 demns them at the first time of reading. He is grotesque 
 
18 
 
 and quaint to affectation, unless you allow for his almost 
 German education. He is nevertheless a great soul ; 
 and knows nothing little, but sin. I recommend gene- 
 rally to you " Combe on the Constitution of Man ;" 
 " Southey's Prose Works ;" " Von Rotteck's History of 
 the World." This book is miserably translated; but you 
 will see the author is generous, free, full of fine thought, 
 and enlarged philosophy. " Pegged Anecdotes of Old 
 English" is like an introduction to a new sense, for 
 many things. i( Williams's Missionary Enterprises" is the 
 most sensible book I ever read on that subject. He is 
 the only minister who has gained the secret of teaching 
 the religion of Christ through industry and independence 
 of spirit. He raises the man first, that he may become 
 a fit recipient. He sets the miracle power of the teach- 
 ing on one side, to bide its time. Dr. Middleton's works 
 are excellent, fearless, and faithful to man ; and connect- 
 ing all useful knowledge with man's reason. He read 
 through all il profane and religious history, and traced 
 the rise and progress of man's communicated know- 
 ledge;" and has decided that man's common sense is his 
 safest guide for all things. Of the other books I need 
 say nothing. Of the few novels I have inclosed, let me 
 recommend to you " Deerbrook," and " Self-Control." 
 — Good bye. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Brighton, August 17, 1844. 
 I never sleep well in a strange bed for a night or two. 
 I came here yesterday. What a wild night I have had 
 of it — dreaming as the insane do by day. Music— wild, 
 clamorous music was heard, in a hall of interminable 
 length, with double columns, extending further than the 
 eye could see, " in mystic light." It resembled one of Mar- 
 tin's splendid pictures. There was a commotion, a crowd, 
 but no persons. As a man, I seemed alone, amidst a 
 world of spirits. I awoke, and found my pulse excited, 
 and felt heated and jaded. I could not sleep again — the 
 excitement on my brain was too great for sleep. I came 
 here by train last evening; those dreadful tunnels nearly 
 distracted my poor head. When passing through them, 
 I usually shut my eyes, and queer fancies come in troops 
 
19 
 
 before me. How that this is as the doomed soul 
 passing into Hades. The pace through darkness, the 
 whirling sensation, the noise, the screaming whistle, the 
 smoke and ashes, — all so expressive of the " shades," 
 (Third class — cheap !) and then to meet another train 
 there ! the horrid glare, like the mockery of the damned ! — 
 to what is it comparable ? Moore, in il The Epicurean," 
 has fancied something like it — where the stairs give way, 
 and the man was swung on a ring, and so whirled he knew 
 not how, nor whither, nor for what time — Did he get that 
 idea in a tunnel ? 
 
 My dreams are vivid things : I do not often dream, 'tis 
 true, or otherwise I should go mad from exhaustion of 
 mental quality. I feel sure I know what the insane un- 
 dergo, what is the nature of the possession upon them ; 
 these dreams are a perfect insanity. The same cause, for 
 the time, is acting on both of us. When I am just falling 
 into sleep, at times, I feel sensibly the wild beginning of 
 a dream — see the fact, as it were, as if I was a beholder — 
 another. 
 
 Did I ever tell you of a visit of mine to Hanwell Asy- 
 lum, in the Spring ? Nine hundred poor creatures were 
 there; many hardly appeared worse than hundreds I see 
 daily in our streets. In going through the men's ward, 
 one poor fellow pulled off his hat with the grace of a gen- 
 tleman : — " My dear Sirs," said he, " I am happy to see 
 you — pray be seated, take a chair, sit here ; what may I 
 do for you." We excused ourselves, but he would attend 
 us ; and the Steward was obliged to say to him, " Dr. 
 Bent, you press upon my friends; pray — " added he, 
 laying his hand on the doctor's shoulder, significantly but 
 quietly. " I beg pardon, I really beg pardon," rejoined 
 the Doctor, "I thought the visit was to me professionally." 
 " No, sir, these are friends of mine, come to see my house." 
 " Oh, look here ! see, this is my bed-room," the Doctor 
 continued ; but added, mournfully, " they terribly use 
 me here, they torture me in the night." Poor Doctor! 
 he dreams dreadful dreams, no doubt ; but I could match 
 some of them, I think. The Steward told us, " He is an 
 Irishman ; his real name is Dr. Bent. He came over 
 here at the time the cholera was raging, and settled in the 
 eastern part of the city, in the thick of it. He published 
 
20 
 
 a book, and gave his knowledge gratis to the people, and 
 was active and successful in his work. He ventured 
 everything to become known suddenly. He was confounded 
 by the little effect of his philanthropy and skill. His 
 carriage and horses became a trouble; he plunged into the 
 bill-market at a great disadvantage, and then had more 
 need of money, and the need of iron nerves into the bar- 
 gain. Poor fellow ! the accumulation upset his mind — 
 he was removed here as a pauper lunatic from Bethnal 
 Green !" 
 
 Another was a German musician. He spoke highly of 
 his musical skill even then ; but said he was fierce, and not 
 to be depended upon. He (the German) planted himself 
 right before my friend and me, and looked menacingly. 
 The Steward placed his hand upon his shoulder — which 
 touch seems essential — and said, in a peculiar voice, " Sit 
 down, sir !" The man looked for a moment in his face, 
 and sat down, like a corrected child. 
 
 Another was making mattrasses. He had prepared us 
 for this man. " One day/' he said, " that man's me- 
 mory was cut short, divided. Since then, he has remem- 
 bered nothing ; but the old images are left imprinted, as 
 if made yesterday. — How do you do, Walters ?" he said. 
 " Friends of mine," he added, introducing us. " Ah, 
 gentlemen ! I see you with much pleasure. Well," said 
 he, cheerily, as if intending a good gossip, " what of 
 Liverpool this morning? what has he done with the bill? 
 And Londonderry — oh, what a mistake was that! that 
 last clause was an utter folly ! But what said they last 
 night? — I have seen no paper." We excused ourselves 
 on the same ground. 
 
 We passed on into the women's wards. " Ah ! God 
 bless you," said a woman of thirty-five to me, eagerly and 
 fondly, " how do you do V " Do you know, I had for- 
 gotten you," I kindly replied. " Oh, what a prime fellow 
 you are ! how jolly fat ! I love you ! I do love a man ! — 
 it is so long since I have seen one! Come," said she 
 coaxingly, " come with me — we will be happy together !" 
 Miss Walker thought the scene was good enough to stop 
 there, and said, "You are troublesome, Mary Guile — 
 move away." Oh, if you had heard the creature swear! 
 she was really eloquent in caustic vociferation, and her 
 
21 
 
 sarcasm against her envy and selfishness was rather 
 amusing to me. This division of the house, indeed, was 
 more difficult of management. Women are naturally dis- 
 orderly ! The Steward, at least, said so, speaking only 
 of the animal. This Steward was really a handsome fel- 
 low, and full of skilful bienseance, and therefore a general 
 favourite with these women. He spoke kindly to every 
 one, and treated every one as if they were sane and ac- 
 countable creatures. He went up to a young girl of about 
 eighteen, and, bowing with marked politeness, said, " How 
 do you do, this morning? What a beautiful morning!" 
 &c. She answered modestly and courteously. I was much 
 pleased with both of them. " Surely," said I quietly," not 
 insane?" "Insane, sir! this is Miss Conolly — Dr. 
 Conolly's daughter — our director." I stammered out 
 some miserable apology ; but she stopped me with the 
 most forgiving smile, adding, " Pray say nothing — make 
 no apology ; this is a daily occurrence. People, of course, 
 don't know I come here to nurse these poor creatures, who 
 are like my personal friends !" Miss Conolly is bound 
 for heaven ! The Steward said afterwards, he thought 
 she would rather enjoy my mistake, than feel offended. 
 
 We passed to the monster laundry, where they employ 
 300 of these women. These were tractable, but very 
 imaginative ! The Steward was in high favour there ; 
 and one of the sane girls, the manageress, had a peculiar 
 penchant for him, I thought. She exhibited a patent 
 drying machine, an enormous mop, to dry clothes with- 
 out wringing. She and the Steward turned the machine, 
 and I thought they caused a good deal of animal electri- 
 city thereby. She was a beautiful girl, a really fine 
 figure. Bo*th appeared to enjoy that approximation — 
 that exercise. I longed to have a turn ! They can finish 
 off the drying, from the tub, in half an hour. They have 
 a hot room, inclosing the iron chimney of the steam- 
 engine; and by means of horses running in grooves, they 
 can place an immense quantity of linen there. Adieu. 
 
 P.S. — I presume you know the mild system — the ra- 
 tional system — adopted at Hanwell, for the government 
 and recovery of the inmates. If not, I will send you the 
 publication of Dr. Conolly's. It is really worth reading; 
 without relation to that place entirely, but as a most inter- 
 esting and generous philosophy. 
 
22 
 X. 
 
 Brighton, August 19, 1844. 
 
 I'll do what I can to forward your wishes in the sale 
 of your Aunt's house property; but my power is a nega- 
 tive quantity. Its value (being in bad repair) I should 
 think to be 10 years purchase. 
 
 I went with a gentleman to see a farm yesterday, he 
 desired to buy. The tenant said, the rent was high; he 
 would quit, unless it were reduced a third. He seemed 
 to have some reason :— the crops were bad, the land wet 
 and spewy (pardon me, the term is technical); the yard 
 empty; his breeches torn, and his wife paralysed : — his 
 daughter was the only living thing that seemed content. 
 My friend fought in detail with the tenant, to prove the 
 utmost rent that could be obtained, — praising its low rent, 
 and talking of increased value. Poor farmer! he looked 
 lovingly upon his barren hills and cheerless home, and 
 felt his prospect was shortening. 
 
 Oddly enough, the owner came there as we were walk- 
 ing over the land, and then a difficulty arose, " What 
 shall we do with the farmer— the same talk won't do 
 now." " Oh, part them," said I. " Ah, well, farmer ! 
 I see you are busy ; the landlord will be kind enough to 
 go through the remainder of the farm ; go you to your 
 work." And then there was the new tack to take. " Cer- 
 tainly, sir, the land is poor — poor fellow ! his back is 
 near broken. I think, I do think, you should have been 
 a little easier with him ; you could hardly expect so 
 much rent; butl presume, you did not get half." Oh ! 
 if you had but seen the man's gills — how he ruffled his 
 feathers, and lowered his head for a spring ! how he 
 cursed and swore ! What a pleasant family we are! — 
 God's good children, living in peace upon His farm,Jielp- 
 ing each other in kind offices, &c. Always your's. 
 
 XL 
 
 August 31, 1844. 
 
 I have just had a hard week's work. Oh, if you would 
 
 desire to exercise every energy of your brain, to stretch it 
 
 as upon a rack, go and take stock for a haberdasher. 843 
 
 mortal sheets, full of figures, have I had to examine. 
 
23 
 
 17x16, 19X10J, 73ix6|, &c, less by 2J, or 5, or 7$, 
 or 13| per cent; not once! no, but hundreds of times! 
 My poor old head is swimming now ! every convolution 
 of my brain is full of figures — every nerve seems to have 
 imprinted there a mass of moving types of figures, seven 
 deep, like spirits and demons of mimic form. Yesterday 
 I finished my job, but dreamt the same work over 
 again, by particular desire of the Devil. The balance is 
 good, however ; and that is a consolation. 
 
 I was reading of" The Ancient and Present Customs 
 of the Jews," the other day, by Hyman Isaacs, a con- 
 verted Jew. One cannot help laughing, and feeling 
 mortified at the same time, when such contrivances are 
 made to stand for God's education of his people. Their 
 worship seems chiefly symbolic — seems still to hang upon 
 the Egyptian pattern ; and though Moses strived so hard 
 to make it rational, you may see his want of success even 
 to this day. Their Confession of Faith has thirteen 
 articles, made up of these ideas : I speak of their modern 
 faith — for there seems a good deal of mere opposition to 
 Christian worship therein : "That God is the creator and 
 governor of all things ; that He alone is unity, and will 
 be so eternally ; that He is a spirit, not subject to change, 
 nor has he any similitude ; He is first and last; that to 
 Him only is adoration due. That the prophets are true ; 
 that Moses was true ; that the law was given to Moses 
 by God; and that we have that law to this day; that 
 this law is for ever, and will never be changed. That 
 God knoweth all thoughts and actions ; that He rewards 
 good deeds, and punishes evil deeds. That the Messiah 
 will come ; and, that there will be a resurrection of the 
 dead at God's good time." 
 
 Ask one of your learned friends for me, What religion 
 was established among the Jews before Moses' time? 
 Whether the history of " the beginning " was revealed to 
 him ? or, was it the tradition of prior ages ? What ritual 
 had Abraham ? Was marriage, other than mutual con- 
 sent, then established? Whether God promulgated any 
 law before Moses' time ? and how it was preserved ? 
 
 The Jew says, A man's intelligence duly exercised in 
 thought is a worship, in addition to his actions : but a 
 woman can worship only by deed, — her prayers are in- 
 
24 
 
 admissible. As St. Paul also seems to say, her worship 
 of thought is to her husband. The women of the Jews 
 were never admitted to participate in men's worship ; now 
 they have so far relented as to admit them as spectators, 
 guarded by a lattice work. Such is the revealed word or 
 will of God, — men say. 
 
 This Isaacs dwells upon the ancient religion with a par- 
 tiality very much like a man's for an old sweetheart he 
 has been compelled through adverse circumstances to 
 abandon. They have some beautiful prayers, and some 
 breathing the true David's spirit also, of vengeance and 
 fury. v Their Litany seems the original of ours, or rather 
 of the Catholics, of which ours, again, is the imitation. 
 
 " Our Father, our King ! we have sinned before Thee. 
 
 " Our Father, our King ! lo, we have no Sovereign but Thee ! 
 
 " Our Father, our King ! oh, be kind unto us for Thy mercies' sake ! 
 
 " Our Father, our King ! annul the devices of those that hate us. 
 [ " Our Father, our King ! close the mouths of our adversaries and 
 accusers. 
 
 " Our Father, our King ! remove pestilence, sword, famine, captivity, 
 and destruction. 
 
 " Our Father, our King ! blot out and put away our transgressions. 
 
 " Our Father, our King ! pardon and forgive all our iniquities. 
 
 " Our Father, our King ! inscribe us on the book of happy life. 
 
 " Our Father, our King ! fill our hands with Thy blessings. 
 
 " Our Father, our King ! hear our voice, spare and compassionate us" ! 
 
 " Our Father, our King ! oh, dismiss us not fruitlessly from Thy pre- 
 sence ! 
 
 " Our Father, our King ! oh, grant our supplications, for the sake of 
 our fathers ! 
 
 " Our Father, our King ! for the sake of our martyrs ! 
 
 " Our Father, our King ! avenge them, and grant them for Thy own 
 sake, if not for ours ! 
 
 ** Our Father, our King ! grant them, for the sake of Thy great, 
 mighty, and tremendous name, by which we are denominated." 
 
 The energy of the latter part exhibits where the strength 
 of their devotion lies. But all this is inspiration. 
 
 What pictures that British Museum exhibits of man's 
 ideas of God's providence. What a series of ages it pre- 
 sents in one view ! what experience, as it were, of man's 
 progressive thought ! Believed in — oh, how believed in, 
 
25 
 
 and enforced ! guiding man, at least acting upon mail, 
 for ages ; and now — all set aside ! 
 
 Instead of loving life and its blessings, man has been 
 taught in these latter days, not to use them wisely, but 
 to hate them, as a snare and an iniquity. He is to feel 
 miserable now, as the right road of being happy here- 
 after ! And this he calls preparation. Oh ! believe it 
 not. Whatsoever is a violation to the reason of man is 
 not connected with man's salvation, as his act. Thou- 
 sands of things are true, which we cannot understand 
 or conceive of; nevertheless these things are not intended 
 for our belief —are indeed intended to be above our belief, 
 and are not requisite for our safety. 
 
 How can man believe, that the great unchanging God 
 has meant our salvation to rest upon different beliefs?—- 
 first, upon some unwritten directions, of very simple ele- 
 ments ; then, by a written law, of elaborate detail. First, 
 by works ; and then, by faith : first, by comprehended 
 things; then, by uncoraprehended things? — This is the 
 experience of the ages of the world. Your's sincerely. 
 
 XII. 
 
 September 7, 1844. 
 
 I had just finished my short walk, and sat down to 
 write to you, but without very well knowing my subject, 
 when your long and very kind answer most opportunely 
 came to hand. It is a fashion with me, to place the 
 letters before me I am about to answer, and so follow 
 consecutively. Never mind its presenting a somewhat 
 jumbled appearance ; its naturalness will make up for it. 
 
 You are very like what I was at your age— ravenous of 
 books, consuming too rapidly. What wonder if indiges- 
 tion arises. I read slowly now, never skip ; and, if I 
 can, I get other books that treat of the same subject, that 
 I may cast accounts, — make a reckoning between them ; 
 — this helps digestion. 
 
 You can never displease me, as you fear, by differing 
 from me ;— only be patient of my defence. That you do 
 not like my class of reading, is no singularity ; for very 
 few of my friends like either me or my reading. 
 
 For me Emerson is a great man ; he seems to me to 
 
26 
 
 iiave dived deeper into the sources of man's actions, and 
 to have probed his understanding more skilfully, than 
 any other man. I have read fifty times many of his 
 paragraphs, and three times have I read all the Essays, 
 and now understand only the general idea, the outline of 
 his deep design. To me, he seems to illustrate the spiri- 
 tual philosophy of Jesus ; though, I think I may say, he 
 sets aside the impersonation of the Deity. There is the 
 same faith demanded — the faith and absolute trust in 
 principle, at all hazards; — the result is work, in both. 
 The approximation indeed I think remarkable: I mean, 
 of course, in what is taught to act upon man : You will 
 see that my reading of the Gospels is somewhat peculiar, 
 and totally inadmissible to all theologians of technical 
 build. 
 
 Have you read, " Not Paul, but Jesus," by Jeremy 
 Bentham? That book would exhibit some few things 
 in an unusual light to you. It is very true, that the 
 Christian religion owes its continuation, under God, as 
 pious people say, to St. Paul ; for the Apostle's con- 
 verts (the first chosen apostles) are spunged out — 
 all the East is spunged clean out, — under whom? But 
 does this make Paul right, or them wrong ? Or does it 
 arise from the lion energy of the man, and his bright 
 abilities ? 
 
 Southey, no doubt, is a singular man — more singular 
 in his prose works than in his poetical works — at least, 
 more singularly successful. As a graphic writer, as a 
 first-rate gossip, he is eminently happy. His " Collo- 
 quies," separate from the artistical construction of the 
 book, are abominable — true Tory humbug ! 
 
 Occasionally I copy out passages from any work that 
 strikes me. Would it be any pleasure to you to read 
 them ? They are of all sorts. But these things exhibit 
 very much a man's mode of forming his jndgment : a 
 common-place book is an indirect epitome of the man. 
 
 I am surprised at your saying, Paley disturbed you ; 
 for, of all theological writers, he deals most candidly with 
 the question. His seeming ingenuous admissions are 
 his very strongest points. But, addio ! 
 
27 
 XIII. 
 
 September 17, 1844. 
 
 I have been reading through the Lives of Mary and 
 Elizabeth, according to the versions of Lingard and 
 Agnes Strickland. Like a good many other persons, I 
 have hitherto been acted upon by Hume's opinion — by a 
 prejudiced and one-sided view of the women. Let me 
 recommend Miss Strickland's " Lives of the Queens of 
 England;" she is really a rare woman. lam particu- 
 larly struck by her industry among old records ; she has 
 submitted extracts from documents without number — a 
 truthful evidence there is no disputing with. 
 
 Poor Mary ! she has been an abused woman. She was 
 only a true woman ; a little weak, and very pious, de- 
 pending too much upon priests' guidance. In heart, she 
 was a generous creature, full of love for humanity; but 
 hardly knowing the right way to guide her earnest sense 
 of it. She was always in advance, however, of her ad- 
 visers in every thing that bore on generous sentiments, 
 and even, I think, on good policy. She was overborne 
 in whatever she thought for the simple benefit of her 
 subjects. She was withal a good, dutiful, loving, and 
 trusting wife; and was there also miserably rewarded. 
 Her conduct to Elizabeth, who was a rebel sister, stands 
 in fine contrast to Elizabeth's conduct to Mary of Scot- 
 land. 
 
 And then see the enigmas of Elizabeth's political life. 
 She seems to have had two leading impulses. When not 
 roused, she was fearfully suspicious; when excited, as 
 bold as a lion ; yet almost always choosing wisely for her 
 country's interests. She was more wildly in love with 
 Essex when she was sixty -three, than with Leicester when 
 only thirty years of age. She was the slave and master 
 of both of them; weakly dealt with them, like a child; 
 and yet killed both, through the jealous fearfulness of 
 her love. She felt ten times more keenly their prefer- 
 ence of other women, than their rebellion against the state 
 — the country's honour. Then contrast her wise selec- 
 tion of and powerful hand over her ministers ; how she 
 stood by them against all remonstrance, even against that 
 urged through the tenderest of her woman's feelings. She 
 
28 
 
 was a tyrant, and yet made her tyranny popular. See 
 again her parsimony, and what power she brought to 
 her service even under that avarice. Contrast Henry's 
 extravagance towards the same order of men, and the 
 wretched support his profusion brought him. 
 
 As a state policy, admitting every excuse for the bar- 
 barous times, one can hardly blame her for the fact — the 
 simple fact — of beheading Mary of Scotland ; and yet it 
 is impossible not to see her leading motive was against 
 Mary's womanhood. What base policy, too, against her 
 secretary, Davidson, about the warrant ! Every act seems 
 unworthy of the sovereign in motive, yet she profited the 
 country in almost every result. The cruelty of Elizabeth 
 was savage and cold-blooded also ; the cruelty of Mary 
 was only misguided weakness, the issue had a high and 
 noble design. 
 
 I am much pleased with Lingard's history of these 
 events. How patiently he traces the tortuous path of 
 Elizabeth ! how philosophically he deals with her state 
 policy ! As unlike the bigoted judgment one is told 
 of the Catholics, as your's is — to the Queen of Sheba's 
 (I cannot find another simile just now.) Perhaps his 
 account is not properly a history of these events, but a 
 vindication and examination; the country, the people, 
 seem to claim very little of his attention. " Butler's 
 Memoirs of Distinguished Catholics " is another very in- 
 teresting book. One would think these three works 
 would soften and melt " an ice-bound bigot." 
 
 I have been translating a French Pastoral Charge of 
 the Archbishop of Cambray, just published. It relates 
 to the modern law of civil marriages. The old man is 
 really eloquent upon the sweets of this " vexed question," 
 matrimony. The argument for church-marriages, for 
 the " holy sacrament," is supported by passages from the 
 Apocrypha, of doubtful authority to us heretics. By the 
 bye, I did not before know that these books are consi- 
 dered of divine inspiration by the Catholics ; the result 
 is, that man is the judge of God's word ! 
 
 My poor old wife still keeps up, though her wail is 
 constant and fearful. She warns all sanguine girls, with 
 deep earnestness, of what tribulation they must pass 
 through for ungrateful man; but the effect thereof is less 
 
29 
 
 than you might expect. Surely you must have some an- 
 tagonist monitor within — What is it ? It is worth seeing 
 though, if only for the fine acting — the earnest pleading 
 on the one side, and the apparently timid consent to the 
 reasoning on the other. " Oh, no !" says Emma to her 
 sister, " I'll never marry ; no, indeed ! Thirteen children ! 
 Poor creature, I pity you ! As for you, sir," she says, 
 sternly looking at me, " as for you ! — but, hang you ! you 
 are incorrigible !" Fare thee well ! Be forewarned. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Native Place, September 21, 1344. ' 
 How well I remember when I w r as a boy — of my am- 
 bition then, and what I then thought of the objects 
 around me ! All these things I see now ; but it is hardly 
 possible to believe them to be the same. What creatures 
 we are of habit ! what was great and grand, is now small 
 and petty; but still as capable to produce pleasure, as fitted 
 to minister to man's happiness, as ever. The mode and 
 habit of the mind is all, for every thing ; no circumstance 
 is anything of itself, but the constitution and education of 
 the mind is the great thing. In my belief, a very poor 
 man (admitting he can satisfy his hunger) can enjoy as 
 much of life, and, if his mind be religiously constructed, 
 does enjoy as much of life, as any creature that breathes. 
 Not for nothing was it said, " The lilies of the field, they 
 weave not, neither do they spin." But defined people 
 give the assertion the lie, and say, Man's glory is by the 
 accumulation of gold, and by pampering the body. I was 
 asked the other day, what I did with my leisure time? 
 " Walk and think, and sit still and read," said I. It was 
 instructive to see the gentlemanly sneer that came over 
 the questioner's face. What an ass he thought me ! And so 
 I am ; for I envy a poor man his appetite, his employment 
 in the open field, and his health, whenever his mind is 
 in accordance, has satisfaction with his place. 
 
 How quiet this country town seems ! how regularly, 
 and in one train, everything has proceeded, and is pro- 
 ceeding! I do think the men wear the same coats that have 
 covered them these twenty years: that is their pride. 
 What can the buck brag of, as a superior enjoyment ? 
 
 c 
 
30 
 
 There stands the town pump at which I used to fill up 
 my cherry turn-over, to eke out the juice; and from that 
 far off day to this— no, not at any time, have I drunk 
 sweeter nectar. There are the Market- Hall steps upon 
 which I used to eat plum-pudding occasionally; and 
 from that day to this — no, never at any time, have I 
 received higher gratification at my place in life, and 
 should not if I became representative of the county ! The 
 same bell that rung me to school, is now calling similar 
 boys to the same humble teaching. I recognize the very 
 tone— feel again something of the same anxiety about my 
 task, and am not quite sure if some muscles behind do not 
 twitch, as in the olden time. Do you know, I want to see 
 my old bed-room, but feel ashamed to ask the present ten- 
 ant permission — how could he understand my feelings? 
 
 If you hear any of your friends talk of the Corn laws, 
 ask them if they have read "The returns, for 1841, of 
 the employments of the population." Tell them, that 
 the agricultural people in employment, bear relation to 
 the commercial in employment, as 22 to 46. That the 
 u 46 " pay the taxes ; and without them, what would " 22 " 
 do to pay the taxes ? and what price would " 22 " sell their 
 corn at ? These would be no idle questions. Adieu. 
 
 XV. 
 
 September 27, 1844. 
 
 Your letter of this morning gave me great pleasure. 
 Be sure that J do not desire to disturb your religion, 
 but only that you should endeavour to take the good and 
 the rational, and leave the extravagant and fantastic. A 
 woman without religion is a poor thing — an unmeaning, 
 because a misplaced animal. You should be the solace 
 of society ; not the reformer so much as the gentle spirit 
 of moral check and sweetness. I know there is some 
 fear that, in setting aside the mere form, you may also set 
 aside the substance of religion. If you fear this, keep 
 close to both — it is your best calculation. 
 
 Your politics are, any way, not very enlightened : your 
 political priesthood misleads you greatly. That opinion 
 of your's, " That the Whigs are not practical men — that 
 their theories are plausible, &c." comes from the lowest 
 pool of muddy politics. Not practical! when such is 
 
31 
 
 the dead-weight of the Tory body against them, as to com- 
 pel them to be motionless. Plausible only ! when this 
 very body of dead-weight is taking up, and carrying out, 
 the very measures of the Whigs. Do try to examine if 
 this be true, or untrue. It is the lowest cant of all cant 
 to say, the man is a bad helmsman, after you have cut 
 off his arms; — the vilest of all robberies, then to appro- 
 priate his knowledge, and call it your own ! 
 
 Judging of Elizabeth's ministers by philosophical po- 
 lity, they were not eminent men— not wise governors; 
 but, judging of them by the extant polity of that day, their 
 labour was useful, and the best that could be obtained 
 under such principles. Subtlety was their great charac- 
 teristic. Their merit lay in their own industry, watch- 
 fulness, and king-craft. Of the nobleness of mercy they 
 knew nothing, nor of the greatness and simplicity of good 
 policy. For the mass they did nothing ; and what they 
 did for the national industry was useless, or worse than 
 useless. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 October 2, 1844. 
 
 Many odd things come to pass in this life — some of 
 the drollest, and some as unexpectedly strange. I have 
 "come out" at Covent Garden Theatre — made my 
 debut, acted my part, and gained "great applause." I 
 had an audience of a thousand persons, and kept them in 
 profound attention for nine consecutive hours, — backed 
 indeed by circumstances, by tricks and show, by wheels 
 and sliding scales, &c. The " Heptapremium " was the 
 comedy — Mrs. Parkes the author; and I had the prin- 
 cipal character. Why be surprised? every word is true. 
 When the play was over, the audience rose simulta- 
 neously, and gave me three rounds of applause; and 
 three more for the author! If you doubt, read the 
 papers. 
 
 There is not a better thing published than the " Picto- 
 rial Bible." Kitto is the editor, and really does suffer 
 his reason to act upon it. His notes are excellent. Have 
 you seen his " History of Palestine ?"— the natural history 
 of the Jewish people, it may be called ? It is a masterly 
 examination and compilation of the extant knowledge of 
 c 2 
 
32 
 
 this people, accompanied by the best commentaries: — • 
 properly speaking, perhaps, it is not his work ; and yet 
 the judgment and ability of the editor are manifest and 
 deserving of all praise. I recommend these books to you, 
 both of them ; for, if some one tell you, they are one 
 book, you will still find them practically very different 
 in effect upon you. If you can get it, read also " Wil- 
 kinson's Ancient Egyptians;" it is a key to many ob- 
 scure passages of Scripture, and a beautiful illustration 
 of the picture-painting of Oriental language. Whosoever 
 reads the Scriptures literally, reads them falsely — the 
 Asiatics seem never to have spoken nor to have read 
 literally, even to this day. Our translation, therefore, 
 conveys to English ears a perverted sense in very many 
 passages. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 October 17, 1844. 
 I commend your taste in liking "Macaulay's Essays," 
 They are not only brilliant, but exhibit industrious read- 
 ing, and a solid judgment. The essay on Bacon is inimita- 
 ble ; I know nothing more admirable, as fine criticism and 
 manly love of genius. Macaulay knows when to admire, 
 and when to reprove ; not many men are capable of keep- 
 ing this division clear and correct. Our prejudices are 
 ever ready to blind us. I could refer you to a good many 
 similar essays ; but then they are in a Whig book, and 
 that would warp your judgment: — the "Edinburgh 
 Review" is full of them. 
 
 There is one great advantage in reading these Essays, 
 for critiques they hardly are of books ; nameh r , therein 
 you see the very spirit, not of the book, but of the sub- 
 ject. You may really know more of the subject from 
 these short Essays, than from many of the long works 
 pretended to be reviewed. 
 
 What think you of the following passage written in the 
 preface of a work on ichthyology? "Some of our wondrous 
 race are strongly gifted ; they are the pioneers of their gen- 
 eration, to whose tramp echo the vasty realms of body and 
 mind. They are lights, that shed immortal beams athwart 
 the dark and troubled waters of time ; the pilot stars, some 
 of whom are beacons of joy and hope, and others are the 
 
33 
 
 fascinating harbingers of woe and despair. . . . Every 
 generation is born to wonder at something, which, as long 
 as it eludes their understanding, is a very African Fetish 
 to the many, and a Gordian knot to the few. A disposi- 
 tion to the marvellous is confirmed in the minds of the ma- 
 jority which does not think, — and of scepticism on the part 
 of the philosophising, the fraction that does think," &c. 
 
 Have you read "Ancient America?" This newly dis- 
 covered land, "that God has sent as a reserve for the 
 surplus population of Europe," turns out to be an ancient 
 people — perhaps more ancient than Egypt. It possessed 
 monuments exhibiting a polished people, much more 
 elaborately expressive of man's civilized manners than the 
 hieroglyphics of Egypt. As a work, it is a poor thing, 
 made up chiefly of mosquitoes and like annoyances; but 
 therein is the fact recorded, of ancient fortifications, 
 palaces in ruins, and elaborate monuments, belonging to 
 a people existing when man first began to record his deeds 
 by symbols. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 October, 24, 1844. 
 
 I see you compel me to scribble to you three or four 
 times before you will condescend to answer once. With 
 such as you, however, we dare not find fault — unless you 
 are wives or sisters, so that you cannot get away, and 
 needs must stand the brunt. How dignified we are in 
 such commanding positions ! and how nobly we admin- 
 ister reproof! Yesterday, I had the honour of scolding my 
 wife, for some refusal to square her opinion with mine. 
 She bore it, " as the reeds bear the boisterous wind," but 
 changed not; — but you see, I had the good of exercising 
 the semblance of authority. 
 
 I told you, that the lady presented me with twins the 
 other day; she is going on very well, and the infants also. 
 I am afraid however this affair will make her very proud ; 
 and therefore I must be careful to exercise a little extra 
 authority, to keep her in order. I have had my own 
 way so much these few days — have felt so snug in my 
 parlour — so free to crow — as to begin, with some fearful- 
 ness, to expect the usual inroad on my power, the resump- 
 tion of her swav. 
 
34 
 
 Many ladies have been to see these children, but, some- 
 how, they stare at me un peu cle trop. If I should fail as 
 a haberdasher, I think of setting up as "consulting 
 surgeon," a family doctor. I might have a successful 
 practice. At the Board of Guardians the other day, 
 they were about to pass this testimony : " Whereas 
 the population of a country is fhe wealth of a country 
 
 — and whereas Mr. ■ is a great contributor thereto — 
 
 we, the Board of Guardians, hereby desire to manifest 
 our satisfaction and cordial thanks for the acts of this 
 proper man, &c. &c." I was too modest, and therefore 
 persuaded them of the bad example for the poor, who, of 
 course, have no right to have children ; and that thought, 
 upon the men, doubled up the resolution instanter. They 
 forgot the corollary of the first noble sentiment, and for- 
 got also, in their desire to compliment one of their body, 
 that the sentiment itself is now out of fashion — that the 
 poor rates are direfully heavy ! 
 
 XIX. 
 
 October 26, 1844. 
 I wish you would read " Deerbrook," — not so much 
 for the story, as for the common-sense demonstration of 
 what faith is — what trust is, in principle ; standing by it, 
 "for better or for worse," always feeling sure that the 
 issue is goodness in itself, good policy for every body. 
 Mary, lame Mary, is a beautiful creation; but unfortu- 
 nately the author seems to have neglected her towards 
 the end of the book — she ought to have been the moral 
 of the tale. Margaret is a woman, every inch of whose 
 understanding is pure gold. Her sister is of a lower 
 standard, as a standard, but works effectually in every 
 action : I know the counterpart of that woman. The 
 men are poor things. In common with all women, the 
 author, Miss Martineau, knows nothing of his nature : 
 man is a compound beyond the skill of their dissecting 
 knife. " Self-control," by Mrs. Brunton, is another 
 sweet tale of woman's mixed quality, of strength and 
 weakness — where the animal and the spiritual nature 
 combat "for dear life," — exhibited with a simplicity and 
 truthful effect wonderful to me, — because a woman has 
 withdrawn the veil. 
 
35 
 
 What ages have passed away, under different religions, 
 different modes of teaching man his duty; but all these 
 have effected little in directing man's understanding. 
 They have acted chiefly through his fear ; and the heart 
 never gives true service in that medium. Men deceive 
 themselves, every priesthood is deceived, that persuades 
 itself such a victory over man is good for much; it is a 
 smothered fire at best, and never a new direction. Such 
 a book as this of Deerbrook is a better sermon than any 
 I have heard. It is a fulfilment of that saying, "Come, 
 J^t us reason together, saith the Lord." Our priesthood 
 denounce, instead of reason. They set up the symbol, 
 and call it the substance. What was meant to exhibit a 
 principle, they have made into a miracle. And what 
 was meant to act on man, they tell him, is to act without 
 him; that he is a negative quantity for his own sal- 
 vation. 
 
 Let a man study the history of the world, and see what 
 has been the chief sway for benefit; what has had most 
 important effect upon mankind; and I fancy, public 
 opinion will stand foremost in rank. If you say, public 
 opinion has been cultivated or formed by religion, look 
 at Greece and Rome ; they will not support that opinion. 
 If you appeal to Christianity, tell me the effect of the 
 first sixteen centuries in humanizing the mind of man ? 
 If you say, it was badly taught ; tell me of the effect 
 now, on public opinion ? Who chiefly sways the mind ? 
 they that teach its ritual or formula — its technical direc- 
 tors? or its moral teachers, the common sense of them that 
 personify the word, and make the principle all important ? 
 Here is the progress of the mind of man ; and there is 
 no mistaking the signs of the times, — that the world is 
 struggling to be rid of every mental incubus. 
 
 Your view of Jephthah's conduct, I think, is not quite 
 correct. He had been a robber by profession — a bandit. 
 He was called out of his nefarious practices to head a 
 coward people ; and he even insulted them for their pusil- 
 lanimity. He was successful in the war; and, like a com- 
 mon barbarian, he promised God, for His honour, that he 
 would sacrifice the first person he met with, on arriving at 
 his home. And this, man still says, is a sacred mystery; 
 that God permitted it, for Jephthah was working out his 
 
36 
 
 purposes ! But I beg pardon — I had forgotten you have 
 said, you love your prejudices. Kitto's " History of 
 Palestine/' however, would much improve your piety, I 
 think, and delight your understanding at the same time: 
 — he is of the orthodox church. I read his book, as you 
 would not read his book ; you would see through the old 
 spectacles — see through another medium. I push many 
 of his deductions past the sense he intends, and therefore 
 unfairly : you would be inclined to stop on the other 
 side. No two persons read alike. 
 
 How do you read this ? " God acts by natural causes 
 generally ; without great necessity, he alters not. For 
 these necessities, he performs miracles ; and, as such, I 
 believe them, and attempt not, as some do, to explain 
 them. But, as God intended these miracles to influence 
 man's mind, they were objectless, unless they acted upon 
 his mind so as to convey something of his design." He 
 draws the conclusion, that there must therefore be a ne- 
 cessity for the miracle according to man's idea of neces- 
 sity; and admits, if man can see no necessity — (good and 
 true man, of course)— we are warranted in not thinking the 
 belief of it necessary for our faith. He says also, " that 
 many things may appear miracles which may be natural 
 action : miraculous to us, from simple want of knowledge 
 of cause and effect." So that man is to be the judge of 
 miracle, it being above his power of dealing with it — 
 Whither will he go ? 
 
 Yonder in the south-east is a bright and beautiful star, 
 that we have been nearing these six months, have come 
 closer to by some millions of miles — and there it is, no 
 larger, in its apparent place. From thence you might 
 see another, directly on; and from that one, another, 
 and another. Can you judge of what is beyond the 
 farthest? — what shuts in space? Can you conceive infi- 
 nity? Shall I therefore say, I am bound to believe all 
 that is presented to me, comprehended or not compre- 
 hended ? Shall I give up my reason as my guide ? No ; 
 emphatically I say, no. 
 
 XX. 
 
 October 26, 1844. 
 If you will come here on Monday morning, I will 
 put you in a place to see a sight not to be seen in P , 
 
37 
 
 once in a century perhaps. It is worth something to see 
 the inch boards and tarpauling about our churches ! 
 St. Paul's was never so honoured before — in sail-cloth ! 
 And then, again, men are to be put upon horses from 
 Buckingham House to the Royal Exchange, "all of 
 a row," to keep back the dirty aprons and saucy eyes of 
 our dear Vichy's loving artizans. 1500 men and women 
 are to breakfast together. They will all be drunk, except 
 the Queen ; — how can they escape, at such a christening !* 
 What a people we are ! They, the people, will see a 
 close carriage, and some dozen aldermen, and a few other 
 " fine colours ; " for which two guineas are given cheer- 
 fully, at a window, — and five shillings each, all round St. 
 Paul's. What a picking for the prebends! it must 
 excite their spirituality. — Won't you come ? 
 
 XXI. 
 
 November 2, 1844. 
 
 What odd ideas of worldly things you possess. I 
 lord mayor — "an alderman, at least!" A man should 
 possess a spare thousand a year, and a good stock of 
 hard nerves — should have brass and modesty combined, 
 and a good knowledge of practical life, of common 
 sense, and some reading, for these offices. Whatever be 
 the vulgar opinion, the office is important, and really is 
 filled by many men very efficiently. 
 
 Your complaint of confused thought and indistinctness 
 of ideas is a general one. The remedy is, to write daily, 
 and to think of every subject — no matter what — care- 
 fully. You will be astonished to see how soon order and 
 distinctness will marshal themselves before you. 
 
 What think you of these odd lines, on a bereaved cow'' 
 
 " ' My child, my child ! 
 
 ' For thee I cry, for thee I weep. ; : 
 
 ' Be reconciled; my truth I keep. 
 ' Come back ! — thy milk will turn to curds. 
 
 '0, hither come! I will not chide; 
 c Ah! why then leave thy mother's side? ' 
 "lis thus I coin her thoughts in words. 
 Oh, see it stare, and sniff the air, 
 And then, it lows again in prayer." 
 
 * The opening of the new Royal Exchange, 
 c 5 
 
38 
 
 I have just had a visit from a delightful old maid ; 
 and, though it rains hard, she is going her daily rounds 
 to visit the poor. She has an abundant flow of fine 
 animal spirits, and the soundest sense I have met with, 
 so as to give with discretion, and cheerfully. She de- 
 mands the co-operation of the poor to the full extent of 
 their capability ; for nothing, nothing is given. She has 
 instituted a subscription club for clothing, where a pre- 
 mium is added at the end of the year, on the accumula- 
 tion. She tells me, she receives .£400 a year of the 
 poor ! There is an example for your " readers" and 
 "admonitors!" Your "alms-givers" donogood; — I would 
 say, do a great deal of evil, unless they encourage self- 
 trust. This is the true basis of every family's prosperity — 
 aye, for all the family of man, in all things ; although 
 our Evangelical men preach the reverse — preach that 
 man can do nothing for himself, in the very greatest 
 demand upon man's existence, namely, that he should do 
 his duty. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 November 6, 1844. 
 
 My religion indeed is not a fixed thing, a settled and 
 full determination : I am still inquiring, still struggling 
 for this purpose. Meantime, God is merciful, and loves 
 them that love him in principle. We have the " still 
 small voice" within ; that which points everlastingly to 
 our duty. Man's soul loathes sin j this is an innate prin- 
 ciple. We do smother our conscience, but we cannot 
 destroy it. However great the sinner, he feels grief for 
 his crimes, say what he may, and hide it as he will ; the 
 everlasting charge is kept up against him. We feel that 
 sin is a dreadful deed against the holiness of God. 
 
 Why should you doubt and fear because of dogmas 
 that men have set up ? Can you not see, that the uni- 
 versal heart rebels against these?— that, do what they 
 can, strive however long they may, doubt and fear at- 
 tend every thinking mind which makes inquiry into 
 these things? — and even upon those who believe (taking 
 the word as assent and consent) the hold is slight, and 
 the effect but poor. It is not a percolating spirit that 
 satisfies the soul. There are many good people in their 
 " pale," through fear of presumption, and because they 
 
B9 
 
 would not disquiet themselves. In this spirit the Maho- 
 metan, the Buddhist, act, and the followers of the Poly- 
 theism of the world. 
 
 Education, moral teaching, as expressed in enlight- 
 ened public opinion, has more effect and deeper hold 
 upon the human mind than any dogma of public pro- 
 fession of faith. As men become enlightened, fear will 
 diminish, and peace increase; good deeds and joy will 
 go hand in hand ; and evil and misery be companions 
 also. Eighteen hundred years have passed away ; and, 
 because of the dogmas that men have tacked on to the 
 simple and sublime ideas of Jesus, men have been made 
 to look off from self-action, and upon another power for 
 their own improvement. 
 
 All this has made me fear man —fear his authority, 
 what he calls the authority of God. To-day, this thing 
 is declared to be dictated by the Holy Ghost (see the 
 settlements of religious worship under Henry, Mary, and 
 Elizabeth, as instances among thousands) ; and to- 
 morrow, the dogma is abrogated, and another set up, 
 under the same spirit, at the threat of everlasting dam- 
 nation, if you dare to disbelieve! Now, however, the 
 conscience and reason of man have begun to act, and these 
 enormities never more dare present themselves. 
 
 Is it not a startling fact, that Jesus never wrote — that 
 he made unlettered men his apostles — that there was no 
 record made of his teaching, until some years after his 
 death — that there was no definite church established, 
 no ritual ; as if man alone was to judge of his worship, 
 making principles every thing, and form as nothing. 
 Jesus hated tradition, saw its abuse, and left his church 
 in tradition — or almost so. I have heard it said, this 
 exhibits His power and His immediate superintendence. 
 These things [are now changed : — the law is written ; 
 the church is established in elaborate form, and fenced in 
 by pomp and circumstance, to affect man's mind by fear 
 and terror, more than by love and charity. 
 
 With Emerson, I think the human mind is still in its 
 infancy ; but that, now, a new germination, a new mode 
 of unfolding its powers, has a commencement; and the 
 cause is in two or three simple ideas, which are giving 
 new vigour to man's intelligence : love and purity are 
 at the base of them, in self-culture* 
 
40 
 XXIII. 
 
 November 8, 1844. 
 
 I have just had some friends come in to talk to me, 
 to take away my dullness. They cannot imagine that 
 around me are hundreds of first-rate companions, always 
 ready to talk, ready to tell me of all the prime events of 
 life — the ways of man, his weakness and his strength — 
 what beings there were, how they acted upon their fellows 
 from day to day, even until now. Holding intercourse 
 with them, I live in their age, seem possessed with their 
 impulses, and, as it were, disembody my present exist- 
 ence, for the sake of companionship. 
 
 No doubt, as you say, types are useful to man — per- 
 haps, are essential to most men ; they awaken lively 
 apprehension, act as conductors to our spirit. Look on 
 my mantle-piece — there is a jug from Herculaneum. 
 Hence I see the overwhelmed city, "the women at the 
 washing-tub," " the marriage feast," and the aids of 
 useful and joyous life, fixed, like an image, in death. 
 There are also Cleopatra's needles, beautiful in form, 
 and man's record thereon of his glory. From these and 
 similar emblems, our spirits rise, and our understanding 
 reaches out into philosophic thought. And true it is, 
 the personifications of religious principle are useful for 
 us; but then be careful, not to substitute the shadow for 
 the substance, the conductor for the electric spirit. 
 
 It was seen from the beginning, that man yearned for 
 extension — that there was an innate attempt to grasp 
 futurity and the hidden things of time; and the sages 
 seized it, and placed " conductors," to carry this yearn- 
 ing into useful action upon the family of man. What 
 wonder if they did not see clearly to where this would be 
 pushed by others, and the abuses that would accompany 
 this new ministration. Abstractedly, but few persons 
 can possess a spiritual idea ; for this end cultivation is 
 necessary, and " a new life," as it has been said. Some 
 idea of futurity is in every man's mind, but indistinct to 
 comprehend, more like the intuition of animals than 
 the deduction of reason. The providence of God in 
 futurity we have a notion of, but no knowledge: to us, 
 
41 
 
 universally, it is a shadow; but then there must be a 
 substance. This is logical; but how express it? 
 
 Poor man must needs dive down deep into this fathom- 
 less sea for knowledge ; he flounders there desperately, 
 and brings back — what? What idea, what sound idea, 
 have all the musings, the disputings, the dogmas of man, 
 given us of futurity — of God's purpose in our exist- 
 ence, that may not be learned in our duty, in our sense 
 of duty ? Why not sit down, as Fenelon did, in quiet- 
 ism, and say with him, " I know nothing; but God will 
 exhibit to me what I am to know, at his good time." But 
 the Church could make nothing of this ; and indeed, from 
 habit, the people would cry out for " the beautiful gods 
 of Egypt." 
 
 Moses was a man of the strongest possible common 
 sense, — whatever may have been added to him by inspi- 
 ration. In every act, he tried the laws of common sense 
 before he tried the mystery. He led the Jews out of a 
 "fine idolatry," and began to teach them through their 
 reason; but they spurned his simple law, they longed 
 again for the " flesh-pots of Egypt." He was compelled 
 to add symbol after symbol, and mysterious sense, to 
 satisfy their impure understanding; until, at last, his 
 rites were all mysteries, and his high-priest a dressed-out 
 doll. He still, however, connected peace with innocence, 
 and punishment with sin ; his religion was still essen- 
 tially a religion of w r orks. He kept the dogma of 
 futurity veiled ; of the Devil he never spoke ; but man's 
 activity and innocence were his prime ground-work for 
 God's service. But this now is all changed, a worn-out 
 thing; and what have we better? 
 
 Look back at Jesus' words; try to discover his design 
 (allow for the blindness and love of w r onder in the ignor- 
 ant people), and you cannot but see, that with his doc- 
 trines the moral culture of man was the main object, and 
 faith was meant to guide him to it. His blending him- 
 self with the Divinity was, a claim of like purpose, like 
 design, oneness of teaching, therefore a mixture of 
 essence, — the Son of God. I know his words convey 
 more to our mode of reading ; but did they to the people 
 he addressed? Oriental language is never precise; they 
 always speak and read in allegory ; the secret sense is 
 
42 
 
 distinct from, and almost different from, the apparent 
 sense. 
 
 I have taken the trouble to write out all the words of 
 Christ in Matthew's Gospel, separated entirely from the 
 context; and, after the most earnest exercise of my 
 powers, desiring, above and before all things, to believe 
 according to God's will, I am arrived at the conclusion, 
 that Paul has pushed the sense of his words beyond the 
 truthful intent of them, and made complex and difficult 
 that which was in itself to the enlightened oriental intellect 
 simple in principle, and easy of comprehension. You 
 must not forget also, that you have the report of these 
 words from memory, and the memory also of years pos- 
 sibly after they were spoken. From the beginning, 
 division arose, through misunderstanding the sense of 
 these words ; and now we have only a selection, and not 
 the whole, of the published books. Of fifty books called 
 sacred, dispersed among the Eastern churches, twenty-six 
 only have been selected ; the remainder, by man's judg- 
 ment, have been set aside as uninspired ! It is very 
 remarkable, too, that the Eastern churches read always 
 with a larger deduction than the Western churches ; — they 
 were the first Arians, and have remained so to this day. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 November 11, 1844. 
 In reply to your question, as to the indulgence granted 
 to the inmates of a workhouse to visit their friends now 
 and then, I can say, our Board gives one day a week, to 
 all well-conducted inmates, as a holiday. If you desire 
 the same indulgence for your old servant, you have only 
 to write to the Chairman of your Union, stating your be- 
 lief that the man will not abuse the liberty, and, most 
 likely, it will be granted at once. If every man in the 
 workhouse could have the liberty of going about at his 
 pleasure, or even once a week, there can be no doubt that 
 home would be chosen by many poor persons in prefer- 
 ence to one earned by hard labour. No law can deal 
 complete usefulness in every case; some unmerciful pres- 
 sure takes place in every thing, even (apparently) in 
 God's laws. 
 
43 
 
 Be sure you do not see the whole case in the newspaper 
 reports of cruelty to paupers. No man can be in real dis- 
 tress in England, and not find relief. The great difficulty 
 is, to give relief that is pleasant to the man's feelings. 
 Without a strict and well-defined code, you would encou- 
 rage idleness — at least, discourage industry and self-trust. 
 The abuse of the funds set aside for the distressed, disturbs 
 a neighbourhood of hard-working men, and inclines them 
 to become partakers in such wastefulness. The poor man 
 knows well when the money is distributed wisely, and 
 then never lessens his labour to partake of it. Give un- 
 wisely, and you will be laughed at, and commit a great 
 social injury at the same time. 
 
 This may be " a hard-hearted mystery" to you ; but if 
 you wish to inform yourself upon the affair, read Burn 
 " On the Poor Laws," where you may see the history 
 and the effects of all the laws hitherto passed to benefit 
 the poor. " Ah, thank you !" you are saying — as thou- 
 sands say, whjp can complain industriously (if one may 
 use the word so vilely), but will take no trouble to gather 
 the merits of the case. Take these few ideas into your 
 memory, however: — The rates for the relief of the poor 
 are compulsory upon every man above a pauper; that 
 they are levied for the relief of destitution, and not to give 
 comfort to life — not for charity, but for justice to our 
 suffering brethren, that every man should help his brother 
 in time of great need. Surely then the Guardians must 
 conform to the spirit of the law— to the design upon the 
 rate-payers as much as on the rate-receivers. 
 
 It is ten times better relief to the poor, to give them 
 work, than to give them money. Therefore, extend your 
 trade, cultivate better your farms, and give every fair 
 chance to the industrious. Take off the iniquity of that 
 infernal drag, your Corn laws ; open your ports to the 
 free exportation and importation of the goods of the 
 world; and strive to see that all mankind are one family, 
 that the produce of the whole earth is designed as its 
 sustenance in common. 
 
 Cheapness and dearness, in money value, is nonsense. 
 If a man earned, by the same industry, the exchange of 
 any commodity 200 years ago, and can earn the same thing 
 now by the same labour, the value remains the same, what- 
 
44 
 
 ever be the money-price. Here lies the iniquity, — that a 
 j30or man could earn three bushels of wheat, fifty years 
 ago, by his week's work, and can earn now but one and 
 a half. Of what benefit to him is it, that he now gets 
 twelve shillings a week, and then got six shillings ? 
 The landlord could then only obtain three bushels of 
 wheat for the rent of an acre of land, and now obtains 
 six. Is this a square account — a " fair protection " to the 
 agricultural interest ? 
 
 Oh, don't be angry ! cannot you see that a friend's 
 critical severity is a gain ; an enemy's is a scourge : 
 the one is physic, the other poison. Don't let your Corn 
 laws be repealed by brute force ! 
 
 XXV. 
 
 November 13, 1844. 
 I don't know how you women are educated ; but I can 
 see something of the effect — perhaps not much. I don't 
 like the manner of my daughters' education. Their 
 governess is here five hours a day; two of these are 
 devoted to music, which I think too much. Throughout, 
 the superficials are cared too much for ; but yet they do 
 know some good plain things. In a little time I shall 
 endeavour to get a direct action upon the understanding 
 and the reasoning powers. These things now are little 
 more than a blank. They seem to understand the use of 
 the memory to be, to hold words, and not ideas. They 
 can tell you the chief facts of history, of geography, and 
 of chronology. They write well, and do arithmetic 
 cleverly. But you must not ask the reason of things 
 — how they affect the judgment — whether they separate 
 and weigh, and watch influences and prejudices — how 
 they keep guard over and against these things. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 November 15, 1844. 
 That is a naive question of yours, — " Why old maids 
 are not so agreeable as old bachelors ? " No doubt, they 
 are as agreeable — ay, far more useful to society, — and not 
 such an offence either; for, generally speaking, the maid- 
 ship is an involuntary position, and the bachelorship a 
 
45 
 
 mere dudgeon against society. The great merit of your 
 position (I mean of course, old maids) is, that you are 
 always hopeful. Indeed I am of that opinion, expressed 
 by some clever man, that a girl's character is improved 
 by one disappointment ; that the second chance is the 
 best chance for " investment" — for faith in all weathers — 
 for the trial of a life-time. There is nothing frivolous in 
 true love ; it should be a sanctity resembling religion in 
 character. Where the heart seeks its nest for long abid- 
 ing, it should demand holiness in the home. Even friend- 
 ship should be a solemnity, if it be anything better than a 
 common acquaintance. 
 
 Though, as you say, egotism is offensive in most 
 cases, it is not offensive to useful and sincere friendship. 
 If I will not show you how the earnest things of life act 
 upon me, how I am guided, what can you really know 
 of me ? and in this manner, letter-writing between friends 
 should be venturesome, and fearless of exposing some 
 points. Many persons hardly know the poorness of 
 their best thoughts, until they see them, as it were, 
 personified in black and white. The process, too, is 
 useful for the culture of orderly thought, precision of 
 expression, and wholesome self correction. If you will 
 produce the secret workings of your mind before the 
 day-light, it acts as prayer does; it is a presenting of 
 your hopes and fears before a great tribunal, the solemn 
 heart of man. Solitary. contemplation — the unspoken 
 word — is not nearly so active upon man, as the earnest 
 and quiet utterance of his thoughts. At the beginning 
 of this trial of expression, you must have been sur- 
 prised to find how disorderly and indistinct your com- 
 prehension of simple truths and facts had been, and how 
 difficult to embody them, even though you felt before- 
 hand as if the subject had been quite familiar to your 
 understanding. How do you read this line : " Doubt of 
 any kind cannot be removed, but by action." And this 
 one : — " Do the duty which lies nearest to thee, the second 
 duty will become easier : impediment is in thyself. The 
 thing thou seekest is already with thee, couldst thou but 
 see." And another: — "Silence is the element in which 
 great things fashion themselves together, that at length 
 they may emerge into the day-light of life/' 
 
46 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 November 17, 1844. 
 
 I have just been to church. We have had a sermon 
 for the benefit of the work of instilling Christianity into 
 the Jews. The clergyman said, " Not man, but my 
 spirit, saith the Lord, shall do this work." But he ad- 
 mitted it was necessary to have the silver and the gold. 
 Again he said, " How can they hear the blessed word, 
 unless it be sent to them ? " so that the work depends on 
 man's agency surely. This is just the involved reasoning 
 they apply to " works." Man's deed is nothing ; but 
 it must be done. If God alone acts, why call for man's 
 co-operation ? I am only confused by such argument. 
 
 In reading " Mosheim's Ecclesiastical History," I see 
 the following question arose among the doctors of the 
 twelfth century — he says, it raged in the church for an 
 hundred years ; and, I presume, is not quite settled now — 
 namely, " In what sense it was or might be affirmed, 
 that an incarnate God was, at the same time, the offerer 
 and the oblation ?" How can you make this " a sacrifice 
 worthy of himself?" 
 
 It is astonishing to read the many questions that arose 
 from the very beginning of Christianity, and how impos- 
 sible it has been to reconcile the greater portion of them 
 to the understanding of man. The particular one, of the 
 Trinity, can never be settled, — as to the nature of Jesus, 
 how the Divinity was blended and separated. I cannot 
 help believing the great error lies in the personification of 
 the principle. If you will understand it to be one prin- 
 ciple, under varying action, will that not simplify the 
 " Athanasian Creed ? " 
 
 Is it unfair to say, that our Church makes religion, not a 
 work, but an opinion ? I have been sometimes charged with 
 the desire to disbelieve ; but I trust that charge will not 
 be brought against me in the highest quarter — from Him 
 who has the power to judge. No man can have been 
 more anxious to believe, and to give up his own opinions; 
 — not one could be more fearful of going wrong. Only 
 persuade me God has spoken, and there is an end of my 
 questioning. But look at the history of the world— at man's 
 
47 
 
 claim of God's authority — that he holds the " sacred seals." 
 See this profession every where, and for all religions ; 
 and see the variations, the uncertainty, the unsettled 
 state, to this day, of our own religion, — how differently 
 our best men believe in its chief elements, through the 
 indistinctness of the word; — and tell me, if man is justi- 
 fied in bringing the dogma to the only one test he is capa- 
 ble of applying to it,— namely, his reason, his conscience, 
 his understanding ? May this not be done without offence 
 to God ? 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 November 27, 1844. 
 
 I wish you would borrow " Mosheim's Ecclesiastical 
 History," and read at least a few of the passages I would 
 point out. The two first chapters a^re written in a fine 
 generalising spirit, and marked with much piety and 
 benevolence. The history of the Reformation, at the 
 beginning of the second volume, will enlighten your judg- 
 ment as to its merits. Then read on the progress of 
 man's growth as a generous being in the seventeenth cen- 
 tury; and you must see the little power that religion 
 had upon the general people, until the moral sentiment 
 was cultivated through the religions philosophy of other 
 leaders of man's judgment ; its unfolding power was 
 hardly guessed at by the Church. The proper applica- 
 tion of religious knowledge seems first conceived of in 
 this century and the last. 
 
 Read second volume, from page 319 to 334, under the 
 head, " The Sciences Cultivated and Improved." This 
 part is really a fine and useful introduction to the great 
 change made in the education of civilized nations ; it is 
 an introduction to the new literature of Europe. Per- 
 haps there were more distinguished, or at least influential, 
 men at that time, than at any other, before or since. The 
 crowd of great names he introduces seems surprising; 
 and their teaching seems to have completely changed the 
 course of man's thoughts, from subtle words into active 
 spirit — from mysterious possession into a true conception 
 of the great principle of duty. 
 
48 
 XXIX. 
 
 November 30, 1844. 
 
 I recommend you to get the "Edinburgh Review" 
 for July, 1843, to see a very interesting and masterly 
 criticism on the taste then prevailing in France in their 
 light literature. The article is, " Parisian Novels and 
 Manners/' Whether they picked jip the taste from us, 
 or not, I cannot say ; but now, at least, we seem copying 
 the same exhibition of degraded life, and without half 
 their fine wit and brilliant writing. Read also, in the 
 same number, " Mexico and the Great Western Prairies." 
 Madame Calderon, the author, is a very clever woman, 
 and talks delightfully. There is an excellent little essay 
 accompanying the review (page 172), that I recommend 
 to your notice. 
 
 The article "Lifejand Writings of Addison," is excellent 
 also — if for no other good, for the pleasure of re-awaken- 
 ing the early impressions of your reading. I can hardly 
 express to you how much " I have lived over again " my 
 youthful feelings— what pleasure I have received, by 
 bringing a different, if not a more ripened judgment, to 
 deal with these old ideas. These reviews, if carefully read, 
 are singularly useful ; — they so test your own judgment 
 — exhibit so strikingly your own deficiency of catching 
 the beauties and the defects of the original works. I re- 
 commend, however, that you read the book reviewed first, 
 or, at all events, read the review again after reading the 
 book. To me it seems like reading before a gifted tutor. 
 
 There is a capital letter of " your friend" Lord Ellen- 
 borough's, in the Times of Saturday. If he were as suc- 
 cessful as Napoleon, perhaps the style might pass; as the 
 case is, one cannot but grin. " I found disaster, and I 
 left victory. I found war, and I left peace. But not to 
 me, &c. ;" which is capital, but slightly varying from ab- 
 solute truth. See the beautiful hypocrisy — "I hope I 
 may be forgiven, if — ;" and, " But, above all, my grati- 
 tude is due to Providence, which so blessed my adminis- 
 tration." Again, " I shall be, 1 hope, always sensible of 
 God's goodness for helping me" The conclusion is nearly 
 as good: — "I am happy, certainly, in returning to my 
 native country ; but I confess to you, that I have left some 
 
49 
 
 dear friends in India." The recall is not a good com- 
 mentary on this happy return. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 * December 2, 1844. 
 What an extraordinary man was Jeremy Bentham ! he 
 was a prodigy from beginning to end. I quote from 
 the Edinburgh Review : " At three years old he read 
 ' Rapin's History of England ' for his amusement. 
 At the ao;e of six or seven, his moral nature awoke, on 
 the reading of * Telemachus.' If he took it up as a novel, 
 he had become a philosopher before he laid it down. 
 'That romance' he says, l may be regarded as the foun- 
 dation stone of my whole character — the starting post, 
 from whence my career of life commenced. The first 
 dawning in ray mind of the principle of utility may, I 
 think, be traced to it.' He was sent to Westminster 
 School between seven and eight, to Oxford about twelve, 
 and entered Lincoln's Inn at sixteen. At eight years 
 old, the ground was well prepared; everything was 
 brought to a point by the time he was eleven. Speaking 
 of the principles of Ethics, he says, c that at thirteen he 
 was already too old to be taken in by Aristotle.' With 
 the same audacity, referring to his attendance on Black- 
 stone's Lectures at Oxford, he boasts, that at sixteen he 
 listened to the popular commentator's principles of law 
 ' with rebel ears.' He adds, * I went to the bar as a 
 bear to the stake ; and I looked up at the huge mountain 
 of law> in despair.' He looked upon law as a trade, and 
 despised it. His moral nature took fire at being made a 
 party to the rogueries of the profession. At twenty-two, 
 or before, he quitted it for ever. He relates a fine bit of 
 biting sarcasm, at this time, in his memoirs. ' In Homer, 
 Menelaus is asked whether he was a pirate or a robber ? 
 To suppose that a man had advanced himself by force was 
 not taken amiss. In these days it is no reproach to ask, 
 Are you a lawyer? which is to say, have you advanced 
 yourself by fraud ?' Through all this time he had a covet- 
 ous, ambitous, and obstinate father, to thwart him — a 
 country attorney. Nature will make its way, and per^ 
 haps never so well as under difficulties." 
 
50 
 
 With his disgust for the practice of the law, how odd 
 it seems to me that he should, immediately on quitting 
 the profession, have directed his mind to codification, or 
 the science of legislation. In 1776 (when he was twenty- 
 six years old) he was writing, "The Critical Elements of 
 Jurisprudence." In the same year he published " Frag- 
 ments on Government." And this young man worked 
 on, in hard work, until he was eighty ! At that age (of 
 eighty) he wrote, to a woman who had refused him in his 
 youth, words of more feeling import, exhibiting the endu- 
 rance of gentle love, more astonishing even than his vast 
 mind is astonishing to me. From any man they would 
 be striking at an early period of life ; but for a man at 
 eighty, and that man having passed through the most 
 laborious life of dry drudgery — a constant writer upon 
 one subject of utilitarianism — for him so to remember the 
 feelings of his youth — so to keep bright this long-locked- 
 up jewel throughout so many years — is altogether a mi- 
 racle to me. 
 
 "I am alive," he says; "more than two months ad- 
 vanced in my eightieth year — more living, than when 
 you presented me, in mere ceremony, with the flower 
 on the green lawn. Since that day, not a single one 
 has passed in which you have not engrossed more of my 
 thoughts than I could have desired. In proportion as 
 I am a friend of mankind, you, if within my reach, would 
 be an enemy." How these words speak ! how he kept 
 her, like a star, before his mind; and yet, "legislator 
 of the world," as he was called, and proud of his abili- 
 ties as he was, he could say to her, " You will not, Lhope 
 be ashamed of me. My minutes are precious to me ; 
 and yet, how many have you stolen from me !" 
 
 This is a great redemption ; this high moral sense and 
 pure affection would redeem any sinner at any tribunal. 
 If you, Tory as you are, hate his efforts to purify the 
 world, and his peculiar application of utility — the great- 
 est happiness for the greatest number — if you hate these 
 things, and call them " a fine theory," at least you will 
 love the principles of direction in the depth of his soul. 
 
 He was a spoiled child, " held up as a prodigy," and 
 always claimed the same homage; for, as Wordsworth 
 says, "the child is father of the man;" and therefore he 
 
51 
 
 had no tact in introducing his opinions to the world. 
 Still, however, when this generation shall be confined to 
 their last narrow bed, this man, this old Bentham, shall 
 be alive, and governing, more or less, the polity of the 
 earth. He had the right clue of a true governance in his 
 hand, namely, mercy to prevent evil, and mercy to punish 
 with utmost certainty all wrong-doing; and these main 
 principles grew out of his love to the family of man. 
 " Have I reach of mind," he asked earnestly of himself, 
 "and have I beneficence of spirit great enough to sustain 
 me against all private interest and fear, to begin and con- 
 tinue the labour I have set out for myself? " The man 
 was so persuaded ; and never let go, for one moment, his 
 object, nor his principles, until his death. 
 
 So dissimilar was this man to other men, as to be a 
 Tory in his younger days, a Whig in middle age, and a 
 Radical when he became old. 
 
 A lady once asked him to write something in her 
 Album. He wrote, " The way to be comfortable is, to 
 make others comfortable. The way to make others com- 
 fortable is, to love them. Probatur experientia. J. B." 
 Inscribe this simple and solid phrase in your tablets. 
 Pin the words to the inner vallance of your bed, that this 
 may be the first idea on opening your eyes." 
 
 When Government offered compensation to him for a 
 work, or plan, for the reformation of culprits, and which 
 they declined to carry out, how disappointed the man felt ! 
 and how reluctantly, through his poverty, he received 
 the money ! " Oh, how grating, how odious to me, is this 
 wretched business of compensation! Forced I am, after 
 twenty years of oppression — forced to join myself to the 
 Baal-peor of bloodsuckers, and to contribute to the impo- 
 verishment of that public, to which I had such well- 
 grounded assurance of being permitted to render some 
 signal service." Just read this to one of your Tory 
 friends, and they will call the man a liar, and a hypocrite 
 also, — because they cannot raise themselves high enough 
 to see where this man stood. He was as vain as a child •, 
 but of what was he vain? — of his task. And what was 
 his task?— the amelioration of the condition of mankind. 
 
 "He was of an enduring and sanguine nature — con- 
 fident to the last, and dying in harness." And yet Dr, 
 
52 
 
 Bowring says, " His bashfulness clung to him like a cold 
 garment." This is no anomaly with vanity and confi- 
 dence in his labours. 
 
 "He loved cats and mice/' says the Editor, "but not 
 the society of men. Individuals he did|not like; but he 
 loved mankind. He knew only the great outlines of 
 mankind, its elements ; of its details, and its national 
 formation, he was almost ignorant. The boldness, origi- 
 nality, and comprehensiveness of his views of a whole 
 system, throw only a stronger light upon his failures: he 
 fell into absurdities oftentimes in the filling up and prac- 
 tically carrying out his principles." This makes his 
 character of one piece, and admits the light into the 
 inward man. 
 
 " Bentham was born in a stirring age, and had the 
 merit of leading its movements upon a momentous sub- 
 ject. He says, in his Fragments on Government, 'This 
 was the very first publication by which men at large were 
 invited to break loose from the trammels of authority 
 and ancestor-wisdom on the field of law/ Not only did 
 he strike the first blow, but he continued striking for 
 sixty years, and destroyed the superstition with which 
 the law was regarded. Whoever may differ from him in 
 detail, must acknowledge that he roused a spirit of in- 
 quiry greatly serviceable to mankind." 
 
 " He was a'good thinker on great subjects. He poured 
 forth his thoughts on paper, and stowed them away as 
 they were written off; while intelligent believers in the 
 written v.ord translated his manuscripts into English and 
 French, and volunteered the labour of revision, &c. By 
 this assistance, he combined the leisure and freedom of a 
 man of letters with the excitement and consequence of an 
 active politician." Herein we ignorant ones see a new 
 note of life. Here is a mind left in freedom to its coin- 
 age, here thoughts are born uninterruptedly, without the 
 labour of cleansing, and other hindrances of artificial 
 formation. " After all/' he says, " I have done nothing ; 
 but I could do something. I am of some value. There 
 are materials within me, if any body would but find them 
 out?" If this be vanity, it is the vanity of a great and 
 hard-working mind — the vanity that sustains a man in 
 his labour, and not such as commonly acts on human 
 nature. 
 
53 
 
 And you and I are lovers of amusement, and have no 
 object in life, except to pass it in peace. When that was 
 said, " My peace I give unto you," — what think you 
 these words imported? A creation from within, or a 
 superadded and distinct something ? To me it speaks of 
 sanctification by work — the blessing attending purity. 
 Therefore, if we cannot be great, at least we can be 
 happy. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 December 3, 1344. " 
 I cannot bear being in debt ; if I have got any money 
 about me, the debt is paid. The only misfortune is, I am 
 too good a customer. Oh, you often " intend to write 
 to me before, but neglect it." This time you have some 
 excuse — perhaps not much, unless indeed you would per- 
 suade me that you devote much preceding time to pre- 
 pare the order of your thoughts. But there is another 
 important hindrance, which you don't choose to tell 
 about — that " cousin," as you call him. Well, God has 
 been merciful to us men — has prepared hearts to receive 
 us every where — kind souls, waiting to be gracious ! 
 
 You think my friend a Calvinist ; — why, what is our 
 Church but this, in her Articles at least? Our prayers 
 are indeed prayers for work-effect, for self-action. But 
 our mini-sters denounce you ten times more freely for 
 thinking wrong, than for doing wrong. I know very little 
 of German philosophy, of German mysticism ; but, from 
 what I have seen of it, they claim a rational religion, 
 based upon man's comprehension of goodness, — and, so 
 far, I agree a good deal with them. Religion is no 
 mystery to me; my religion is a sanctification by deeds, 
 and not a profession by mere words. I think your opi- 
 nion is extreme, " that they deny every thing," I wish 
 however they were plainer in stating their dogmas. So 
 far as I know their intentions, they set up high principle, 
 of moral thought and work, as the base of their religion 
 — that faith therein is the constant guide, and practice 
 therefrom the hourly result. And this is consistent 
 with Christ's teaching; and, to me, his faith intends the 
 same result, through the same love of God, i.e., love o 
 his wDrk — " Keep my commandments." 
 
 D 
 
54 
 
 I think I have told you before, that no man can think 
 clearly upon any subject, or form a good design, until he 
 sees his thoughts take shape, either in writing, or by 
 prior experience of action. Bacon expresses the same 
 idea, and points to the gambols, to the fantastic tricks 
 they play with the imagination in that " fine sporting 
 ground. " " Call them forth," he says, " bid them take 
 shape, and lo! they skulk and hide in all possible places." 
 And so you may perceive in many men a want of power 
 of expression, but a strong persuasion of great ideas. 
 That vulgar saying, a that's just what I thought," when 
 a thing has been accomplished by another, is not vanity 
 always, but inert power, latent heat, — a lazy possession, 
 wanting the merit of activity and usage. Why is it that 
 very inferior people enjoy fine writing and noble impulses, 
 if they had not some according power within them ? 
 
 The schism you deplore in the Church — the Puseyism 
 — has the best of the argument in authority, in ancestor- 
 wisdom. While I can understand they are acting upon 
 an unlettered congregation, upon an ignorant people, 
 they seem to me to have most likelihood of doing good, 
 — above all, I like their ideas of love and labour. The 
 implicit direction of the clergy, taught by them, is the 
 great danger; but yet public opinion, now, would always 
 keep them in moderation. Our variations in creed, and 
 in translating the sense of Scripture, each man for him- 
 self, is a misfortune, and would become a serious one, but 
 for public opinion. We have seen some note-worthy 
 samples, even in our days, of private freedom in this 
 study. At any rate, however, this movement in " excel- 
 lent Church" may perhaps be beneficial ; it will rouse 
 her energies a little, and, possibly, improve her usefulness. 
 There is room for both modes of thinking. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 December 5, 1844. 
 I have done my duty about the young man you feel 
 interested in. He has not been with us long; and, 
 judging so far, my partner's opinion of him is, that he 
 wants energy and animation. If he has abilities, they are 
 "under a bushel." Desire him to uncover them, for 
 
m 
 
 now he is " at a discount." Waiting to be found out — • 
 waiting that others should probe for his merit, is very old- 
 fashioned — quite out of the custom of our times. One 
 must make a little dust, push one's self forward somewhat 
 beyond the strict line of mere merit; or, "possess your 
 soul in patience," — like the good old maids. 
 
 I wish you could see a beautiful plate I have, " The 
 Heart's Misgivings." It would do you good ; you would 
 see so truly what a venture is this entire committal of 
 one's self to another, and how the poor heart is frozen by 
 man's apathy and want of sight. This poor girl looks so 
 desolate, so hopeless ; and the rascal so careless, and so 
 confident of his victory. His very dog seems to reproach 
 him for his want of sentiment, or, from jealousy of the 
 hawk. The attitudes are beyond praise. Long live 
 Frank Stone, the artist ! 
 
 I have another, of the " Death of Douglas " — Land- 
 seer's. This is a well-told tale, of Walter Scott's, in the 
 "Abbot." Poor soul! she w r as a weak woman, this 
 Mary of Scotland— a weak and frail woman, in her love ; 
 voluptuous, but true of heart — a true woman, every inch 
 of her. What a contrast to Elizabeth ! In this respect 
 Elizabeth was a daudle, but Mary a woman of business — 
 But you know all these things. 
 
 Please to explain to me how a thing can be belief, 
 and not comprehension: I cannot see your distinction. 
 Either they are both knowledge, or both only conceivable- 
 Crabbe indeed, in his Synonymes, says, " Belief does not 
 extend beyond an assent of the mind." I thought it did. 
 If not, our evidence in the law courts, " to the be.st of 
 your belief," is not good for much. I recommend this 
 book to you; it is useful and interesting also. Read 
 this beautiful bit of explanation from Ci'abbe's book: — 
 
 " Oh ! I have heard him talk 
 
 Like the first-born child of Love, when every word 
 Spoke in his eyes, and wept to he believed — 
 And all, to ruin me." 
 
 Lord Ellenborough is a clever fellow. Success is its 
 
 demonstration, as you say. In certain circumstances, a 
 
 man must talk a little, and believe a little more thah he 
 
 knows : the difficultv lies in taking things " at the 
 
 d 2 
 
56 
 
 flood/' " Old ladies " you call the Leadenhall mer- 
 chant princes, do you ? in whose hands is the destiny of 
 some hundred millions of men. No doubt, at times, it 
 has been necessary to run counter to their commands, by 
 reason of superior local information. But then, take 
 care you are right, make your difference successful, or 
 surely you are properly punished. Old ladies, or not, 
 this is " good grammar," as applied to facts. 
 
 Get the Edinburgh Review for February, 1843, and 
 read the criticism of " Recreations of Christopher North." 
 This article is a good synopsis of the laws of criticism; 
 a useful article to lead your mind to judge rightly in 
 literature, 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 December 8, 1 844. 
 I inclose, for your perusal, a letter from an unsophisti- 
 cated lad of seventeen, who has been educated in a village 
 in Herefordshire, at an endowed school, and is now ar- 
 ticled to an attorney. He has had a good education 
 there — has the foundation laid of a scholar and gentle- 
 man. He seems to me a clever and upright lad, and I 
 prophesy of him, that he will become an eminent man in 
 public station. He has confident modesty in himself; 
 there is none of the foolish consequence of a forward boy 
 about him, but a gentleness and a self-possession that is 
 very remarkable. In the autumn, an advertisement was 
 put in the Hereford Journal, offering a prize of £ 10 for 
 the best pamphlet in support of the Corn laws. Candi- 
 dates were to adopt mottoes. Thinking it would be useful 
 exercise for his reasoning powers, and no great risk in 
 failure, he wrote a pamphlet, and forwarded it to the 
 committee ; and they, believing it to be a good practical 
 essay by some scholar's advocacy, at once accorded the 
 reward to him. My astonishment, however, is as great 
 as was " The Hereford Corn-Law Protection Society." 
 It is well written as a composition, and superior in argu- 
 ment to the common run of this precious logic. He is 
 an antagonist of mine, and, through that Essay, I have 
 courted his correspondence. 
 
 Have you read "Coombeon the Constitution of Man?" 
 I recommended it to him, not thinking now-a^days it 
 
67 
 
 would be thought an irreligious book. It is amusing to 
 see his unsophisticated mind take fire at the dishonour 
 of his Bible, precisely after the fashion of the good 
 Catholics of Rome against Galileo, and we, to Buckland's 
 Geology. 
 
 However, I like the young man, although in every 
 sentiment we disagree : he is honest — presents so youthful 
 and sincere a face to every argument, as to make him a 
 delightful companion to an old man like me. He is 
 laborious also, and delighted with his profession -.—here- 
 after he will be Attorney-general ! 
 
 So, the Puseyite war thickens upon us! What mild 
 creatures they are, so to fight! Quote Scripture, they say 
 respectively ; but they forget what we lookers-on must 
 think of this graven word, which may be turned either 
 way, right or left, this way or that! The world is a 
 wonderful thing— at least, man makes it so. Our conflicts 
 seem the trial of honesty and self-deception against 
 roguery and imposition ; where the judges sum up, like 
 the wags of Guildhall after dinner, as Punch says. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 December 14, 1844. 
 
 I have just finished my walk (by order and measure- 
 ment), and have earned my day's rest, excepting two doses 
 of physic. I often think of the answer of the Spanish 
 woman to the lady, of whom she was begging for the 
 kitchen offal. "Why do you not work, to earn for your- 
 self a better provision than this for you and your 
 family? I am told you are an idle woman." "True, 
 madam ; oh, it is true that I am an idle woman. But, 
 Jesus ! if you knew but the luxury of having nothing to 
 do? it makes garbage and poverty riches and high feed- 
 ing." I have cut off with an unsparing hand all high 
 living for the sake of diminishing my walking exercise ; 
 — there must be a good deal of the Spaniard about me. 
 
 I recommend to you No. 159 of the Edinburgh Re- 
 view, for the critique on"Michelet's History of France." 
 I have often been struck by the coldness of our histories. 
 This is a graphic story of a people, as well as of a king ; 
 and relates incidents with a warm colouring, as much so 
 as if you saw the events in action. " Thierry's History 
 
OS 
 
 of the Norman Conquest" is a beautiful thing, and 
 painted with more energy than our novels even, yet 
 keeping closely faithful to the facts. Our Carlyle's 
 " History of the French Revolution" is just at the ex- 
 treme of this licence. 
 
 In the same number, read the review of the Countess 
 of Hahn-Hahn's Novels, page 163. The reviewer, 
 though an old man, seems to have a deep accord with 
 the Countess's description of love's power (page 163). 
 The quotation there seems like holding a discourse within 
 one's own sanctum. In page 165 is a ballad I like much ; 
 the fifth and sixth verses particularly. How far is that 
 true of inspiration, in page 166 ? That is a funny answer 
 in page 173: "Fool ! have you not touched the tabernacle 
 of my heart?" 
 
 Get No. 160, and see the review of " Barrere's Me- 
 moirs." When a man means to damn you in a very 
 particular manner, he always pleads in this fashion: — 
 " We have made up our minds to do him justice ; and 
 we now purpose to do him, by the blessing of God, full 
 and signal justice." Page 75 he has devoted to skinning 
 and broiling the poor devil. Can you show me like 
 intensity of praise any where? 
 
 We had a case before our Board of Guardians on 
 Thursday, of a queer and very questionable teaching. 
 A woman applied to have her husband taken into the 
 house because he was ill. " But cannot you keep him?" 
 said I. " Keep him ! no. What am I to do with an 
 old sick husband?" See what a barbarian I am: I 
 opposed this separation, and was outvoted. The Board 
 not only took the man in, but gave the woman 4s. a 
 week for the support of her three children, though she 
 was a healthy woman, employed as a charwoman. So 
 now, hereafter, if your husband be worn out, shut him 
 up in a poor-house;— there are a great many would like 
 the chance ! Such a woman, however, is a mere beast, 
 who would so desert her duty ; she violates the very 
 design of her existence, as a helpmate. This is not a 
 very uncommon case with us; but if I had the power, I 
 would ring in their ears, " for better, for worse," and 
 give no quarter. There should be no keeping a mate 
 for fine weather, and when the winds and the rain came, 
 
59 
 
 that he should be turned off. Our Guardians cannot 
 sec the injury of this public teaching — the misery and 
 disturbance they create, and the aid downwards that they 
 give to wavering affection and human weakness. With 
 such men, everything is contained in the present mo- 
 ment; the future effect, the contingent action, goes for 
 nothing. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 December 16, 1844. 
 
 1 do not suppose you idle in the sense of doing 
 nothing, but that you do not care enough about your 
 mental improvement in the leisure that you otherwise 
 devote to objectless recreation. After all, however, you 
 must take my reproaches as not good for much ; for it is 
 a standing charge against me, by all my friends, of 
 wasting my time. My recreation in study goes for 
 nothing; for, as they properly say, "What is the effect of 
 it ? does it bring honour, wealth, or health." My peace, 
 and my improvement, are good for nothing! 
 
 There is an account, in the July, 1842, No. of the 
 Edinburgh Review, of Loyola and the first four masters 
 of the Jesuits, and particularly of Francis Xavier, deeply 
 interesting for the effect these men had on civilization — 
 at all events, on the religious world, as it is called. 
 They were master-spirits; they nearly discovered the 
 power and succeeded in guiding man's soul to greatness 
 and holiness of purpose; but in good time the Devil 
 took the alarm, and diverted these teachers to lower 
 objects and more selfish designs. Read also, in one of the 
 numbers for 1843, u The Clapham Sect,"— the biography 
 of the men who moved and carried the abolition of slavery. 
 This is a beautiful bit of interesting writing, and exhibits 
 a truthful and lively picture of some few strong men under 
 good motives, acting over a large surface of the human 
 family. Such men have not, however, a tenth part of the 
 influence of Loyola and his great ones. 
 
 What think you of this saying : — " Enthusiasts are 
 men of one idea. Heroes are men of one design. They 
 who usually prosper in the world are men of one maxim." 
 Of this also : " Men live most in their understandings : 
 
60 
 
 women mostly in their affections." These, joined together, 
 form a key to the common impulses of life; or, do you 
 doubt the sweeping assertion ? 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 December 17, 1844. 
 
 I have just been reading a little story, which I send 
 for your edification. A noble was accused by the wife 
 of one of the dukes of Germany with precisely the same 
 fact as was Joseph by Potiphar's wife. The noble denied 
 the charge, and offered wager of battle ; and the duke (the 
 reigning duke) fought him by deputy. The noble was 
 slain. But this did not satisfy the noble's wife, who 
 complained bitterly of the infamy and wrong done to her 
 and her faithful husband. She offered trial of fiery 
 ordeal, to prove his innocence ; and was presented with a 
 pan of red hot coals to carry in her hands. If the 
 pan burnt her, she was guilty of calumny against the 
 duke ; if the contrary, the duke would make reparation 
 for the wrong done to her. Luckily the pan did not 
 burn ; and therefore, as reparation, the duke resigned his 
 wife to the widow, for whatever punishment she might 
 select. She broiled her ! There's a clever way of dis- 
 posing of an awkward affair ! 
 
 What a useful little book is Isaac Taylor's " Elements 
 of Thought." Jt teaches us how to sift and verify asser- 
 tions — how to prove arguments by tests; and how we 
 should arrange and deliver our thoughts simply and 
 clearly. He says, " Facts which rest on demonstration, 
 are known. Facts established by good evidence, are 
 believed. Speculative principles confirmed by argu- 
 ments which are deemed satisfactory, are matters of 
 opinion." Belief, therefore, is more than opinion or 
 assent. If this were strictly applied to theology,, what 
 would be the result? — opinion mostly. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 December 21, 1844. 
 I have obtained Wilkinson's " Ancient Egyptians" 
 from the library. According to him— who quotes always 
 his authorities that bear upon the case — according to the 
 
61 
 
 Egyptian hieroglyphic writing, and the opinions of the 
 oldest of the Greek historians, their religion was a well- 
 defined system of symbolic worship ; their many deities 
 were so many symbols of the different attributes and 
 abstract qualities of the one God, and so indeed taught 
 to their priesthood, though not to the common people. 
 They made sin offerings and peace offerings, ages before 
 Moses. On their altars, also, they placed unleavened 
 bread ; and had other ceremonies, that Moses, through 
 the remains of idolatry among the Jews, amalgamated 
 and rationalised into his ritual worship. 
 
 Of the sacred animals he says, "That institution was 
 chiefly a sanatory law." Plutarch says, " It is evident 
 that the religious ceremonies of the Egyptians were not 
 instituted on irrational grounds, or built on mere super- 
 stition, all being founded with the view to promote the 
 morality and happiness of those whose duty it was to 
 observe them/' 
 
 Wilkinson says, " That the images of the Egyptian 
 deities were not supposed to indicate real beings, is abun- 
 dantly evident from the forms under which they were 
 represented. And the very fact of a God being figured 
 with a human body and the head of an ibis, might suffi- 
 ciently prove the allegoric character of Tlioth (or Mer- 
 cury), the emblem of the communicating medium of the 
 divine intellect, and suggest the impossibility of any other 
 than an imaginary or emblematic existence ; in the same 
 manner as the Sphynx, with a lion's body and human 
 head, indicative of physical and intellectual power, under 
 which the kings of Egypt were figured, could only be 
 looked upon as an emblematic representation of the qua- 
 lities of the monarch." And then he states, " that these 
 things have been grossly abused by the Egyptians," but in 
 good company — with the symbols and signs of all other 
 religions, even to this day, — the simple consequence, as I 
 should think, of asking man to depart from his reason, 
 and to deal with the inscrutable essences of the Creator 
 of the world. 
 
 Afterwards he says, " In the early ages of mankind, 
 
 the existence of a sole and omnipotent God, who created 
 
 all things, seems to have been the universal belief: but — 
 
 what is remarkable — no nation named Him, Like Moses, 
 
 d 5 
 
62 
 
 they — or he, like them, rather — called him 'Ineffable/ 
 'Genius/ 'I am/ &c. They descended to his attri- 
 butes for names, and personified them. Him, they never 
 represented. Osiris is an emanation, and Isis, his wife, 
 is a gift of God; from whom — from which two — pro- 
 ceeded animated life, and the welfare of mankind. . . . 
 Osiris was also judge of the quick and the dead, and his 
 mysterious nature as an avatar, i.e., the manifestation of 
 God, gave him a higher and more comprehensive rank 
 than any other god : and it is not a little remarkable 
 that he there appears as one of two members of a separate 
 triad, though he had returned, after performing his duties 
 upon earth during his manifestation, to that state from 
 which he was supposed to proceed." 
 
 And this follows: " i do not pretend to decide respect- 
 ing the origin of the notions entertained by the Egyptians 
 — of the Triad into which the Deity, as an agent, was 
 divided ; nor can I attempt to account for their belief in 
 his manifestation upon earth. Similar ideas had been 
 handed down from a very early period, and, having been 
 imparted to the immediate descendants of Noah and the 
 Patriarchs, may have reached the Egyptians through 
 that channel, and have been preserved and embodied in 
 their religious system. And this appears to be confirmed 
 by the fact of our finding the creative power, whilst in 
 operation upon matter, represented by Moses as a Trinity, 
 and not under the name indicative of unity, until after 
 that action had ceased. For the name given to the Deity 
 by the divine legislator, when engaged in -the creation of 
 material objects, is not Jehovah (who is and will be), but 
 Elohim (the Gods) ; and this plural expression is used until 
 the seventh day, when the creation was completed." 
 
 Wilkinson speaks thus a little further on : " It may 
 appear singular, that the principle of the Trinity is so 
 obscurely noticed in the Old Testament; but then" (he 
 adds, curiously enough, if true) " the wise caution of the 
 divine legislator foresaw the danger likely to result from 
 too marked an allusion to what a people, surrounded by 
 idolatrous polytheists, might readily construe into the 
 existence of a plurality of gods: the knowledge there- 
 fore of this mystery was confined to such as were thought 
 fit to receive so important a secret." This is indeed 
 
remarkable, as giving man the power to tell the " counsel 
 of God," in what proportion, and at what time, he may 
 judge it useful to God's design ! 
 
 " The opinion of the Egyptians of the Trinity was as 
 * He who exists ; He who possesses ; He who beholds.' 
 The Greeks' idea of the Trinity was, JVill; Love; Life- 
 giver. Another sect of them had, Power; Intellect; 
 Spirit. Plato's was, Idea; Mother; Offspring. He 
 had another also — Father; Generator; Production." 
 
 Again he says, " I proceed now to mention some other 
 remarkable coincidences with Scriptural data. Of these 
 the most singular are, the characters of Osiris, and the 
 connection between Truth and the Creative power. In 
 the latter we trace, that the Deity, of his own will, begat 
 us with the word of truth. The discloser of Truth and 
 Goodness on earth was Osiris; and it is remarkable 
 that, in this character of the manifestation of the Deity, 
 he was said to be " full of goodness and truth ;" and, 
 after having performed his duties on earth, and fallen a 
 sacrifice to the machinations of Typho, the evil one, to 
 
 have assumed the office of Judge of ?tiankind At 
 
 Philac he is said to have died, and from thence removed 
 from this world. They have a sculptured chamber, 
 where are seen twenty-eight lotus plants, indicative of the 
 twenty-eight years he lived on earth ; and his passage to 
 heaven is exhibited, attended by Genii. He is there 
 represented with a feathered cap, which he wore as judge 
 of Amenti (Hades); and this attribute shows the final 
 office he held after his resurrection, and continued to 
 exercise towards the dead, at their last ordeal in a future 
 state." 
 
 In another place he says, " The manifestation of the 
 Deity, his coming upon earth for the benefit of mankind, 
 and his expected interposition, were ideas which, even in 
 the patriarchal times, had always been entertained, 
 having been revealed to man from the earliest periods, 
 and handed down through successive ages, even to the 
 time when that event took place. We are therefore less 
 surprised to find it introduced into the religion of the 
 Egyptians, and forming one of the most important tenets 
 of their belief. Indeed, nothing can be more satisfactory 
 than this additional proof of its having been a tradition 
 
64 
 
 among the early inhabitants of the earth ; and it was 
 natural that the Egyptians should anticipate the fulfilment 
 of the promise, and found thereon the great mystery of the 
 relative connexion between the Deity and mankind. The 
 fact of this manifestation and the doctrine of the Trinity 
 being entertained by so many distant nations, naturally 
 leads to the inference, that they had a common origin; 
 and most will admit, that they appear to have been de- 
 rived from immediate revelation, or from the knowledge 
 imparted to the early inhabitants of the world, rather 
 than from accidental speculation in distant parts of the 
 globe : — a remark which applies equally to the creation 
 of man, the deluge, the ark, and numerous mysterious 
 doctrines, to different people and nations." 
 
 Now, this argument is a double edged-sw r ord ; it proves 
 clearly to one man the fulfilment of this extant ancient 
 prophecy in Jesus of Nazareth ; and to another man, 
 that it has been made to point to Jesus as the person of 
 the Mediator ; while to me it is simply a principle signi- 
 fied, and not a person, at any time. If you are to take 
 this ancient tale as a literal fact, will the prophecy be 
 fulfilled in Jesus literally ? If you say, the Egyptians 
 had not the keeping of the record, and therefore may 
 have tacked on many wild fancies; then, who has had 
 the keeping of this august prophecy? If Moses had, 
 what has he said about it ? If Isaiah had, is it a literal 
 fulfilment? Certainly, there have been many persons 
 claiming this Messiahship among the Jews, and even 
 Jesus thought it still likely that others would arise and 
 assert the same fact for themselves. The Egyptians 
 made Osiris this mediator, this direct communication 
 between God and man, this intimacy of spirit and matter; 
 he, also, had visited the earth, and ascended again into 
 heaven, to judge both the quick and the dead. 
 
 I beg of you not to understand that I am denying the 
 fact of Jesus's divinity, nor the fulfilment of this old 
 prophecy that the world held about the Messiah. I am 
 only requesting you to note, that the proof does not seem 
 so clear as it is here and elsewhere stated to be. 
 
6-5 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 December 23, 1844. 
 " Scold you !" as if I ever scold you. I know that it is 
 of no use. I confess I can make nothing out of you ; you 
 turn me on one side with the best grace in the world. 
 No wonder your lovers were disturbed ; you must have 
 plagued them to death, or frozen them : you have a capi- 
 tal way of veiling every thing. I say again, you are a 
 funny reader, and don't pay great attention to my argu- 
 ments. Only conceive a person acknowledging that she 
 reads some half-dozen books at one time! what possible 
 improvement can that mixture bring you ? I should like 
 to scold you about Carlyle. Quaint he is, and perhaps 
 to excess ; but not " occasionally shrewd ;" at least, his 
 general readers think him very often profound — a deep 
 thinker — speaking of some of the most important things 
 rf man's life, under the light veil of playful quaintness. 
 It is quite new to me, to hear him called "a mere lover 
 of the olden times;" what he loved was the simple 
 earnestness, the directness of purpose, and the freedom 
 of so many men from Mammon worship. He is sensible 
 of the errors, of the obstinacy, the darkness, and self- 
 delusion of the crowd, then as well as now. He hates, 
 however, ten thousand times more, the sham humanity 
 and infernal covetousness of the present day, than the 
 simple unenlightened mistakes of the olden time. This 
 is the man who is proclaiming with a shout in the ears 
 of his brethren, that there are better purposes in life than 
 money-getting — that a nation may be happy without an 
 accumulation of wealth in the public treasury ; and that 
 peace, and employment for the common people, are the 
 great temporal desiderata. "No practical remedy," call 
 you this ? No converging of the public opinion upon the 
 true centre, and aiding in the amelioration of the human 
 family ? This is the man, that another celebrated man 
 has proclaimed to be " a new influence upon England, — 
 likely to have more power over the mind of the present 
 generation than any other being alive.'' But you —you 
 put him by, with a gentle pat on the head. 
 
66 
 XXXIX. 
 
 December 25, 1844. 
 I have shamed you, at all events, out of making a fuss 
 about accepting a book from me. Your answer this time 
 is prompt and kind. I differ from you about egotism : I 
 think egotism the very prime of useful correspondence — 
 always, of course, understanding there must be some 
 portion of good taste about it; and yet you call it all 
 manner of bad names. If I am to know nothing of the 
 current of your feelings — of the sway things have upon 
 you — of the mode in which you make up your intelli- 
 gence, — of you what can I know ? I want communion, 
 and it can be had best by good egotism. I want to look 
 over your shoulder, and hear the first observations of the 
 spirit, as you read the events of life, and see the actions of 
 mankind. But, because I am a man, you shut up the inner 
 chamber, because you cannot, through fearfulness, con- 
 ceive of a friendship completely distinct from sex. What 
 have I to do with your sex? your womanhood to me 
 goes for nothing. J don't want to hear your sex's secrets, 
 but the secrets of your spirituality. To beat about the 
 bush in this way may be all very well with your lovers ; 
 though, if I were the admitted one, I should soon send 
 3^ou to the " right-about." None of your half-wives for 
 me — your people u who feel deeply, and never express 
 it." 
 
 XL. 
 
 December 26, 1844. 
 
 You say, I don't know you — know nothing of your 
 sentiments, nor can you consent to unveil them before 
 any one. True, I don't know much of you; but I know 
 you have the power to be — not a different, but — a much 
 improved being, if you would be honest to your own 
 heart, and fearless and industrious; and, for that end, 
 would take higher purpose, and trust more to the sug- 
 gestions of your proper spirit. There is within you the 
 germ of very useful abilities — quick comprehension, able 
 combination of thought, and a steady, though somewhat 
 lazy, judgment. 
 
67 
 
 I believe it to be true, as you say, that you read doubt- 
 fully, and so gather more harm than good. You should 
 read confidentially, in charity ; but with the high purpose 
 of knowing the truth, and standing by it through " all 
 weathers." Your doubting is marked more by fear than 
 by uprightness — by trepidation, more than by moral 
 honesty. There is no living spirit in " assenting to what 
 you cannot comprehend ;" it is good for nothing in itself. 
 Your intelligence must be a partaker in the faith that 
 shall advantage you ; and your faith must work for the 
 honour of God, before God will bless it greatly for you. 
 That must be the tendency, the new impulse, the new 
 birth, the Holy Spirit within you; what is consistent 
 with that, you can understand, if you will diligently seek 
 to know it. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 December 28, 1844. 
 
 Wilkinson says, in every Egyptian god there was a 
 double sense, the actual and the spiritual, Osiris, as 
 well as guide and judge, was the creator of man's sub- 
 sistence. He was therefore the symbol of the Nile— the 
 cause of the fruitfulness of Egypt. Isis was his wife, 
 she being the valley of the Nile. Thus was given to man 
 the fruits of the earth. Nepthe is the higher land of 
 Egypt— the sister of Isis; and she beguiled Osiris at 
 times, and more blessings were poured upon mankind, 
 Horus, the son of Osiris and Isis, was the type of the 
 fruits of the earth. And Harpocrates, the son of Osiris 
 and Nepthe, was the type of the resurrection of the dead. 
 He is the silent child, who is drawn pointing to his 
 tongue, proclaiming, " The tongue is fortune, the tongue 
 is God ;"— meaning, by the tongue the destiny of man is 
 fixed, and his power also made spiritual. There was a 
 simple evidence here given of natural facts, and of spiri- 
 tual application ; referring all things to the attributes of 
 God, that is, to God. 
 
 To me, Carlyle's " Past and Present " teaches the moral 
 (by exhibiting the way of the true-hearted monk, as con- 
 trasted with his predecessor and with our common po- 
 licy), that simple energy and moral courage can overcome, 
 
and will overcome, the tortuous policy of a coward spirit 
 and mere expediency. It is the fearful people that encou- 
 rage the rogues — men who want firm faith in principle : 
 their policy it is, that opens the door to the sinuous en- 
 trance of the trimmers, and so throws the world into 
 confusion. Certainly the old Church was faulty enough ; 
 but they were distinguished by & peculiar covetousness — 
 they were not misers. And though it is doubtful whether 
 their charity did not do as much harm as good, their 
 hospitality was a great redeeming feature. It is the grip, 
 the devilish clutching, that Carlyle complains of now, and 
 not of man's industry. Our wealth is not intended to 
 be subservient to the public good, but their's was : they 
 were exactors, with the intention of more wisely distri- 
 buting the power of riches. Carlyle has this power over 
 me, — he sets me to thinking, awakens new chords of 
 musical thought, and creates a new harmony within; 
 I see old deeds under a better light, and can read the 
 consequences better. 
 
 I acknowledge that women are more religious than 
 men. Man is so only by persuasion of his intelligence ; 
 woman, through her affections. Move a woman's ge- 
 nerous sympathy, and anything may be taught her, to 
 which she will hold for a life-time. But man cannot so 
 deal with religion. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 December 31, 1844. 
 Every day do my feelings, if not my reason, lean to- 
 wards the common track of the world. 1 still think the 
 religions of the world are chiefly allegories — symbols and 
 shadows of the great principles of love and charity, and 
 of a few of the attributes of the Deity. Still I am begin- 
 ning to consent, that this mode of teaching man is, as 
 man is now habituated, the most useful way to make him 
 good and happy. The law of pure principle, the teach- 
 ing of the righteousness of man's duty, upon its simple 
 merits, has been tried over and over again, and without 
 any fit success. We are compelled to admit, that " won- 
 der is the basis of worship," and fear, the strong stimulant 
 to duty. That saying of Carlyle's puzzled me some time, 
 
" Decoration is the first germ of spiritual want; wonder 
 is the basis of worship." And without these unworthy 
 aids no man can, as yet, effect much upon his fellows. 
 
 I heard a celebrated preacher say, " that he had tried 
 for thirty years to persuade his people of the beauty of 
 holiness, through the preaching of a refined morality ; 
 and preached his people blind and deaf too : that he then 
 began to preach Jesus Christ and him crucified, and 
 faith, election, foreknowledge, and the power of the God- 
 head, and then he succeeded," through the wonder and 
 fearfulness of the flesh. He spoke, indeed, in all sincerity, 
 "of the power of the Spirit;" but I think it will bear the 
 addition I have given to it. 
 
 The result is man's aim ; and a quick result is his 
 ambition, without much nice calculation about the 
 means. Even, in man's success, if the end be obtained, 
 so far as his powers of vision are concerned — still comes 
 the question, What endurance has it upon society? Is it 
 not an appearance of progress, more than a progress? 
 But nevertheless if the means be not offensive to God, 
 we, as mortals, must be content to act as we can. 
 
 It was the complaint of Jesus, " Except ye see signs and 
 wonders, you will not believe." He appeared to question 
 the long effect of these things on humanity, and would 
 rather deal with the intelligence of man's spirit. I 
 would direct your attention to Kitto's account of Moses' 
 trials of different modes of worship, when he led the 
 people out of Egypt, and I think you cannot fail to be 
 struck by his manly soul, that urged so earnestly a simple 
 worship of the God of Heaven. He placed no person 
 or thing between man and God ; a man's prayer was a 
 direct address to the Omnipotent, and his chief prayer 
 was to be in his deeds. It is confidently asserted, that he 
 knew of the old prophecies of the Messiah, of Him as 
 mediator and judge; and yet he never propagated a word 
 about it. Is it a good answer to say, " the fulness of time 
 was not yet come." Moses was defeated in his simple 
 outline, and was compelled to yield step by step, until he 
 had adopted many of the lovedsymbols of the Egyptians, 
 and had made the high-priest the great mediator between 
 God and his people. 
 
70 
 
 another thing will astonish you also, in Kitto's "Pa- 
 lestine," — that the Greeks adopted the Egyptian gods — 
 their attributes; under new names indeed, and with a 
 more popular application to the social formation of the 
 people. Indeed it is a remarkable fact, that every thing 
 great in power came from Egypt ; they were the mistress 
 of the religion of the world : theirs was the first clearly 
 established mastery of intellect over brute force,— their 
 religion was its exemplification and example to all 
 nations. 
 
 I hope this work of Kitto's will give you half the satis- 
 faction it has given me. He is a companionable man, 
 with whom you will feel familiar and delighted long 
 before you are halfway through the book. In him there 
 is nothing of the dogmatist, and no part of a condescend- 
 ing pity for your blindness, for not seeing as he sees. 
 He is a man to talk with about the great things that 
 concern your happiness. I commend him to your fami- 
 liar acquaintance. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 January 4, 1845. 
 
 1 know the translation of the French pamphlet on Mar- 
 riage is a small affair. I was first attracted by its simple and 
 earnest eloquence, and because it was a present to me by 
 a dear niece, who is a Catholic. I thought to quiz it a 
 little too, for taking up such high ground against a civil 
 rite : I now think, however, he is more right than those 
 who have lately altered its religious character — for 
 perhaps, nothing but its solemn hold upon society can 
 make it endure for a life-time among the general people. 
 At all events, it was a useful exercise, furbished up my 
 forgotten French somewhat, and helped my power of 
 expression also. I was pleased, too, because the arch- 
 bishop properly recognises our authority, and teaches 
 you a proper humility ! 
 
 I have half a mind to begin to write the " Life of a 
 Linendraper." 1 think I could furnish " my cloth" with 
 a few useful hints — tell them some of their tricks, that 
 would not look very handsome in broad type — and sug- 
 gest a mode of dealing, that some few have adopted in 
 good policy, as being both honest and profitable. There 
 
n 
 
 are 20,000 of these " gentry" in London, so that their 
 body is large enough, and important enough, to be well 
 guided. They are coming round to a simpler mode of 
 dealing, and to more worthy notions of what trade is, 
 and for what purpose life is given to man. It only re- 
 quires a good leading impulse upon them to make the 
 class more useful members of society. They stand 
 almost first now in thoughtful effort for their improve- 
 ment — as tradesmen at least. " Ten Thousand a-year" 
 is a clever book, and has acted usefully upon them ; but 
 the picture there drawn is a caricature of the trade, and 
 much below the level of the men, speaking generally. 
 
 Did you ever hear of that Catholic story of Somerset- 
 shire—of the priest who had a very illiterate congrega- 
 tion, who could comprehend no lecture, but only the 
 simplest and most direct teaching that could be pre- 
 sented? He was compelled to embody every idea, to 
 make it comprehended in any way. He desired to ex- 
 hibit the safety of complete dependence upon God's 
 providence — on his laws and principles, for man's 
 guidance and sustenance ; and to show how temptation 
 was powerful, but chiefly so through man's inclination to 
 evil, and therefore what need there is of being watchful 
 against the wily one, and to be decided, at once decided, 
 to repel every loose desire, be the apparent gain what it 
 may be. To convey this useful sermon after the fashion of 
 "the schools," w r as out of the question; for, of learned 
 definition, however plain and simple — of demonstration, 
 however true, if not embodied, they could not conceive 
 any thing — they knew nothing of the very simplest terms. 
 — He preached from Noah's trust in God, and ex- 
 hibited some of the simple commands of God to build 
 the ark; for God had decided to destroy the earth 
 through man's wickedness. " Here was trust, you see, 
 my friends, of Noah in God. He built a great ship 
 hundreds of miles from the sea, and of huge dimensions, 
 because God commanded him. You see, how the foolish 
 people laughed at Noah, and trusted in themselves." 
 After further illustration of this simple kind, he pro- 
 ceeded to describe the power of temptation. Here he 
 felt his chief difficulty, and struggled hard to convey to 
 them the many ways, and the plausible ways, the Devil 
 
72 
 
 had to work on man. He saw, however, he had not 
 carried his congregation with him — they did not quite 
 comprehend him; and therefore, at all hazards, he 
 determined to open their eyes to his argument. " Now, 
 my friends, the Devil tempts man to do wrong continu- 
 ally, and if necessary he will become, as it were, a warm 
 sympathising friend — he will counterfeit any thing. He 
 saw Noah safe in the ark, but he tried hard to get him out 
 before the waters were gone — of course to drown him. 
 One morning he went and tapped at the door of the ark, 
 — tap, tap. And Noah opened the door a little way, 
 thinking no harm. "Ah! good morning, Mr. Noah," 
 said the Devil, (the scoundrel is always polite.) " Good 
 morning, Mr. Devil," said Noah, (for a true heart 
 cannot help being courteous.) " A hazy morning this," 
 said the Devil ; " but a little farther off the sun shines 
 brightly, and the land on yonder hill-side is dry, and 
 pleasant to walk upon : you must indeed feel the need of 
 a little change; come, and walk with me; are you not 
 very sadly crowded ? " " Yes, indeed we are," said Noah ; 
 " but we must be content, and wait God's appointed 
 time: the waters have not subsided." " True, not exactly 
 here; but I will carry you to the pleasant places. If I 
 came myself, cannot I take you?" But, as Noah was 
 wavering — for he longed to leave the ship — God's injunc- 
 tion came into his mind with power ; and with firmness 
 he answered, " You be damned, Mr. Devil," and shut 
 the door in his face ! 
 
 To this day, this answer for all temptation, for every 
 guise and wile of the Devil, has a living and wonderful 
 power in Somersetshire. His congregation not only saw 
 the point of the argument, but conveyed to their children 
 the pithy and fit reply, "Go back to hell, thou tempter!" 
 I commend a modification of it to your usage ! 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 January 11, 1845. 
 
 You may be sure I shall like what you choose to send 
 
 to me; but it is quite as true, I should prefer the best you 
 
 can send me. Your "chat," of whatever quality, will be 
 
 agreeable; but, knowing that you can send a good qua- 
 
 i : 
 
lity of chat, T should prefer the very best you have, f 
 am sure you will liberally understand my desire. What 1 
 want is, a useful friendship— if possible, to both of us— 
 at all events, to me. 
 
 I advise you, when reading, to take notes of particular 
 passages. I am so business-like as to post them under 
 different heads, for easy reference. It has been recom- 
 mended by Locke, if you want good authority. One 
 work diligently read, is better practice than twenty 
 skipped over. 
 
 I am reading Carlyle's " French Revolution," and 
 think it a delightful book. I have read three or four 
 histories on this subject, and therefore needed not the 
 simple information; but this work is a commentary upon, 
 and a picture-painting of events —a completely new por- 
 trait of the circumstances. No artist could convey a 
 livelier representation. It is less affected too, than much 
 of his writing, though still quaint ; the hand of a master- 
 spirit is in every page. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 January 12, 184o« 
 I have just been hearing a sermon about the birth of 
 Jesus. The visitation of the Magi —their faith — has been 
 commended. " A star conducted them." The preacher 
 denounced the blasphemy of Herod in ordering the 
 death of the child, and the cruel measure to encompass 
 it — direfully cruel, no doubt. It was an order, though, 
 free from blasphemy, in intention. His purpose was to 
 nip a rebellion in the bud ; for the same cause, the same 
 claim, had been set up before, to the trouble of the state, 
 and to the disturbance of the people. He must have 
 known he could not war against God; his deed was, to 
 test the fate of this claim. It is not possible to under- 
 stand of any creature, that he could order the death of 
 the Messiah. At the worst, it was only unbelief, not blas- 
 phemy. He knew the Jews' belief was in a temporal 
 king, and therefore he feared for the crown upon his 
 head. Why we should desire to make human nature 
 worse than it is — more wilfully stupid and more infa- 
 mous, I cannot tell. It is the fact of ignorance and 
 
74 
 
 unbelief; and a barbarian's preventive remedy of what 
 he believed a political wrong. The cruelty is its great 
 crime. To this day, there is hardly a king upon his 
 throne who would not take any step he could reconcile 
 to his conscience, to prevent a like rebellion against his 
 right and dignity. 
 
 My wife's father has killed a fatted calf for these 
 holidays of our rejoicing; and I have just dined sump- 
 tuously, acknowledging my sins. " Heaven reward him 
 that rewards me!" This close neighbourhood in which 
 we live — this " next house," is a handy house; — the milk, 
 butter, eggs, flour, potatoes, and sundry minor necessities, 
 are all in common — only I never pay. I tell the i old 
 gentleman,' "You keep the farm, and I'll bring the stock 
 to consume the produce — you shall have all the profits." 
 This seems a perplexing calculation : however, he keeps 
 farming away ; which is a generous trust in the produc- 
 tiveness of goodness. 
 
 XLVL 
 
 January 14, 1845. 
 
 How many striking idiomatic phrases, like axioms, 
 there are in this "French Revolution!" See this one : 
 " Great is belief; and it leads captive the doubting 
 heart. Bold assertion cows the humble." This is a 
 beautiful commentary upon, "Great is Diana of the 
 Ephesians." It was said to a celebrated philosopher, 
 that "God made man after his own image.'' "Man has 
 returned him the compliment," replied the sage. We 
 give Him our weak feelings, make Him act by our hum- 
 ble judgment, and form Him in every particular upon 
 our model of thought. 
 
 In Taylor's " Elements of Thought," there are the fol- 
 lowing words on testimony : "Is the witness competent 
 to give evidence in the instance before us ? Has he the 
 means of fully knowing the fact which he reports ? " 
 Taylor was a believer, and recommends this proof to be 
 applied to Scripture. The Apostles were competent to 
 give evidence, to prove Jesus's life, the doctrines he 
 taught, the example he set, and all material facts. But 
 were they competent judges of his divinity?- -were they 
 
75 
 
 steady believers in it in his life-time? If not, what 
 wonder the same evidence is a difficulty to us ? Is faith 
 more than a willingness of spirit ? Surely it is hardly pos- 
 sible to prove it a conviction, unless faith is a principle. 
 
 I know what faith is as a governing principle; I know 
 its expression in adoration, in deeds of love, in serving 
 God. But this faith our Church thinks a humble faith, 
 a subservient faith, and not the great faith, — the convic- 
 tion of the effulgence of the Deity in one man. I believe 
 he is "the way, the truth, and the life,"— that he has 
 made the true path plain ; but then I see with different 
 eyes this road, for I can only see it through my under- 
 standing. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 January 19, 1845. 
 
 " Our eloquent patriots of the legislature, like strong 
 conjurors, by the word of their mouth, have swept royal- 
 ism, with its old modes and formulas, to the winds ; and 
 shall now govern France free from formulas. Free from 
 formulas ! and yet man lives not except by formulas, 
 with customs, ways of doing and living. No text truer 
 than this ; which indeed will hold true from the tea-table 
 to solemn temples — nay, through all provinces of mind 
 and imagination, onwards to the utmost confines of arti- 
 culate being. 'There are modes wherever there are 
 men.' ft is the deepest law of man's nature, whereby 
 man is a craftsman and a ' tool-using animal : ' not quite 
 the slave of impulse, chance and brute-nature, but, in 
 some measure, their lord." 
 
 This is another striking passage from CarlyleV French 
 Revolution." These are the marks that portray man's 
 hidden but common guidance for hundreds of purposes. 
 ft is worth remembering, that the French people, when 
 they abolished all old formulas as an abomination, imme- 
 diately set up another. Reason was worshipped through 
 a new goddess — a naked woman ! 
 
 This universal and mysterious longing is the main 
 cause of the success of formula over the genuine piety of 
 the spirit. Reason with an unenlightened man, and you 
 can do little with him ; but impress some mysterious awe 
 upon him, and you may guide him easier than you may 
 
guide a child. But expand the general mind by educa* 
 lion, by religious education, and first the coarser kinds of 
 formulas will give way, and, as man approaches and 
 possesses the power of reason and conscience, the re- 
 mainder must follow. Are we not now discontinuing 
 one type after another, and pleading more directly in 
 spirit to God? The jealousy and the fear of many 
 members of our Church, as exhibited in the transactions 
 of the Puseyites, is a strong evidence of the setting in of 
 the tide of public opinion in the contrary direction. 
 What is the issue of the conflict of last month between 
 this Church and her people? That the thinking mind 
 rejects with indignation this retrograde movement. 
 
 But it is lamentable to see the wild struggle man 
 makes of it whenever he resorts to brute force to over- 
 come this old teaching. " When men quarrel, they see 
 not one another, but distorted phantasms of one another ; 
 their words become poor exponents of their thoughts " 
 Carlyle says. " They get enveloped in an atmosphere of 
 delirium; and 'Mountain' and 'Gironde,* when they 
 recover themselves, are alike astonished to see where it 
 has flung and dropt them." Let us act therefore quietly, 
 and abide always by our reason, and the right issue will 
 come forth in its own good time. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 January 22, 1845. 
 My son George, our oldest boy, is going to business 
 this week, to commence his career in earnest life. 1 was 
 talking the other day to him about the future, urging 
 the importance of earnest struggle, manly emulation, and 
 a great determination to succeed through every honest 
 opportunity. I pleaded also, that he should not abandon 
 his education, but continue his reading, accompanying it 
 with diligent and careful observation upon the real issue 
 of all the contrivances of man for his glory and his hap- 
 piness, and then he could not fail to see that a true heart 
 alone gained any victory worth man's possession. " Well, 
 I don't know, papa," he replied, "but life seems soon 
 over. It seems to me, that as soon as a man has ob- 
 tained the highest prize, so soon the time comes to 
 
TH 
 
 abandon all.*' " Tf that be true, my boy," I added, 
 somewhat puzzled by his pertinence, "still there are 
 many things in life worth carrying to the grave, and 
 most certainly we are bound to provide a sustenance for 
 ourselves and for our families* Your position would 
 produce much more of mere idleness, and apathy of 
 character, than of a useful elevation of spirit. False 
 ambition you are looking at, rather than looking at your 
 duty." 
 
 This boy of mine has a peculiar manner of reasoning 
 with you. He is a heavy lad apparently, and slow to 
 learn, but yet his judgment is always active. Is this a 
 contradiction to you ? If I say to him, " I wonder, George, 
 you can be such a boy:" he replies, "How were you at 
 my age?" "But cannot you see your future interest 
 better than that?" "No papa; did you see clearer 
 when you left school?" "Well then, take my advice 
 now. Work now, that hereafter you may have the lei- 
 sure to play, in your old age." " Good, papa ; but how 
 is it that you are not rich and at leisure?" 
 
 I think his plan a good one, though the reckoning is 
 rather sharp, and somewhat inconvenient. Such a son 
 might puzzle a good many English parents ! However, 
 don't understand that he is not tractable— does not intend 
 to apply to business. I know he will, because he says 
 he will. He means only to plead for his boyhood, and 
 want of experience. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 January 24, 1845, 
 I am reading a little book " On the Identity of the 
 early Hebrew and Druidical Religions," which much 
 interests me. Did you know that Abraham was a Sabean 
 priest? that that religion was the original of the Egyptian 
 and of the Druidical? that many observances may be 
 traced throughout them even to this day in the North, 
 and perhaps in England? Abraham, however, aban- 
 doned the superstitions of the Sabean worship, and ap- 
 pears to have established the first simple form of direct 
 and spiritual intercourse with God. Moses, in this 
 sense, was a restorer of Abraham's religion. More, how- 
 ever, of this hereafter. 
 
78 
 
 If you ask me why I pore over these old things, I tell 
 you, that I love to trace these beginnings of man's spi- 
 rituality, when the mind began to assert its power over 
 the animal man. The germ of every religion has the 
 right intent, of curbing the wild passions of human nature, 
 and of ordering it in love and benevolence of action. 
 Every where a mysterious awe has been superadded, 
 and, at last, has become the principal feature, instead of 
 the training medium. It seems to have been established 
 in deference to man's love of wonder originally ; but its 
 power becoming daily more manifest, it was soon abused 
 and perverted most outrageously. Even to this day, I 
 continue to think that the great principle is personified 
 too much— perhaps rather I should say, the theory 
 (speaking strictly) is taught too exclusively. 
 
 We have been thinking of sending our two eldest girls 
 to France for a year's education, but the mother cannot 
 consent as yet to the separation. I have an idea that the 
 French education of girls is superior to ours, that it 
 teaches more solid knowledge, improves the judgment 
 more, and makes woman a more companionable creature. 
 A well-educated French girl, certainly, has a manner of 
 conversation very superior to our's. Of course a good 
 deal of this arises through the custom of national man- 
 ners—their greater freedom in society. The vanity and 
 talkativeness with which they are charged, is true only 
 of ill-informed women ; it is not more glaring, as a 
 general charge, than the awkwardness and barren thought 
 of our English girls. I should be glad to see some of 
 the vivacity of the French manners engrafted on to the 
 home-loving and docile disposition of John Bull's true 
 daughters. The great, enduring charm of a woman is 
 her companionship; and I think this feature is too much 
 forgotten here : our education is intended to attract by 
 external means, but not to hold for a life-time. 
 
 1 have just met with the following little story, exhibit- 
 ing the consequences of temptation, showing that they 
 do not cease — these evil consequences — in the immediate 
 effect, but continue on until we are overwhelmed. "A 
 young man went into a magician's cave, and seeing his 
 books lying about — all his arts of magic — had a foolish 
 curiosity to try the effect of his incantations. Lo ! a little 
 
79 
 
 demon appeared. ' What do yon want ? ' said the sprite. 
 The young man became puzzled and heated by this so 
 sudden appearance, and, in the impetuosity of the moment, 
 he cried out, ' Water/ Off started the sprite and 
 brought in two buckets of water. ' Enough/ cried the 
 student ; but the sprite fetched other two buckets, and 
 poured them upon him. ( Hold, enough V he vociferated 
 in a rage ; but other two buckets came. At which he 
 drew his rapier, and cut the sprite in two; when, off 
 started two sprites, and brought four buckets of water ; 
 and so plied him as nearly to drown him in the cave." 
 
 I have been reciting this to my young children at tea. 
 The exordium went off well ; the first and second appli- 
 cation of the water seemed pertinent and illustrative ; but 
 as I proceeded, the fun of the thing overmastered all 
 discretion, and they roared with laughter, and, I feared, 
 would have overwhelmed me with their milk and water, 
 " to suit the action to the word." 
 
 L. 
 
 January 26, 1845. 
 It has always appeared to me, in the history of the 
 Jews, that the people believed in other gods — believed 
 there were beings superior to man, and who had the 
 guidance of other nations. The author of the " Identity 
 of the early Hebrew and Druidical Religions" exhibits 
 many proofs of this belief. He exhibits also, that the 
 religion of the Patriarchs was a household worship ; the 
 father of the family was the priest. Moses, however, 
 instituted a public religion, and left, at last, the high-priest 
 the only mediator between God and man. But I believe 
 this was done in compliance with the foolish demands of 
 the people, through their love of the Egyptian manner of 
 worship. In support of the identity of the Hebrew 
 and Druidical Religions, he says, " Grove worship was 
 equally prevalent among the Hebrews and the Druids. 
 'Abraham planted a grove in Beersheba, and called 
 there on the Lord/ Afterwards he was ordered to cut 
 down the groves of the Canaanites, because of the abomi- 
 nations they committed therein. (Exodus xxxiv. 13.) 
 The 14th verse is remarkable : ' For thou shalt worship 
 e 2 
 
80 
 
 no other God/ " (What grand verses are the 6th and 7th ! 
 i And the Lord passed by before him, and proclaimed, 
 The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious/ &c.) 
 " The oak was a venerated tree. ' The Lord God ap- 
 peared to Abraham by the oak of Moreh/ 'Jacob 
 buried his dead beneath the oak.' ' Joshua raised up 
 a stone under an oak that was by the sanctuary of the 
 Lord/ ' Gideon saw the Lord of angels sitting beneath 
 an oak of Ophrah/ Other passages in ancient Scripture 
 might be cited ; but these are quite sufficient to establish 
 the point, that their ancestors had a religious veneration 
 for the oak, much the same as that which prevailed among 
 the Greeks in the time of Homer. The Druids adored the 
 Deity under the symbol of an oak. Pliny mentions this. 
 Maximus Tyrius says, ' That all the Celtic nations 
 worshipped God, whose emblem was the oak. On festi- 
 vals, oak branches were carried about, and the may-pole 
 is covered with its leaves, and the happy maidens and 
 hinds dance around it, with the same delight their fathers 
 did thousands of years ago/ It is one of the few re- 
 maining relics of antediluvian worship/' 
 
 " In the first ages of the world, the Deit}' was adored 
 in the open air. So also worshipped the Druids. Both 
 alike set up stones to commemorate great events. (Deut. 
 xxvii. 2.) In time these stones increased, and then they 
 buried their dead there : ' So Joseph was buried in the 
 Temple of Gerizim/ when stones only were called temples. 
 See the commemoration by Joshua, chap. iv. They were 
 arranged precisely as our Druid temples are. Great 
 events were also declared or ratified there. (See 1 Sam. 
 xii. 14.) Stonehenge is allowed to be one of this descrip- 
 tion, exactly as the Jews describe their's. Solomon 
 raised the first covered temple to the Almighty. 1 Kings, 
 iii. 2." 
 
 " No one can believe," he says, " that the religion of 
 the patriarchs, and that of the Jews after the giving of 
 the law, were the same. The old patriarchs worshipped 
 God under the name of Baal, and sacrificed in high places, 
 and adored in groves, and intermarried with their imme- 
 diate relations ; all which were forbidden by Moses. To 
 eradicate the abuses of these things, Moses put down 
 these things altogether ; for they, among other abuses, 
 
81 
 
 had transferred the holy name of Baal to the Sun, and 
 to other lower images. " 
 
 "Baal, or Bel, became thus the title of the Sun, and 
 was worshipped as one of the most powerful of the gods 
 by the Druids. The grand festival of this deity was 
 on the eve of the first of May, when the sun entered 
 Taurus, and spring began. On this eve, the fires were 
 lighted on a thousand hills, and human sacrifices were 
 offered." 
 
 This is note-worthy, because the Egyptians held the 
 same feast ; and Taurus was worshipped as Osiris, the 
 god of production for man's welfare. 
 
 " Moloch was another god to whom the idolatrous 
 Hebrews likewise paid their devotions. Manasseh was 
 a worshipper. The people were much disposed to this 
 worship ; which indeed is supposed to be the origin of 
 the fire- worshippers of the Persians. The laws of Moses 
 were terrible against this worship : see Leviticus. As 
 Bel was the title given to the Sun on the first day of 
 spring, so Moloch appears to have been his title on the 
 first day of autumn. This was another occasion of 
 lighting the fires, for the people were rejoicing at the 
 ripening of the fruits of the earth. Virgil commemorates 
 these facts in the 11th book of the iEneid. Moloch was 
 the Apollo of the Romans. This ceremony was con- 
 tinued in England to a late date, and in Ireland still later. 
 Toland reports, 'that he had seen the people running 
 and leaping through the St. John's fires in Ireland (the 
 name was skilfully changed by the priests of the Catholics), 
 and they were not only proud of passing unsinged, but, 
 as if it were a kind of lustration, thinking themselves 
 in a special manner blessed by this ceremony, of whose 
 origin nevertheless they were wholly ignorant. It was 
 in the valley of the son of Hinnom, that the Israelites 
 performed these fiery lustrations ; it was also on the 
 great cairns of England and Gaul, that the inhabitants 
 did once leap through the flames — a striking example 
 of the identity of the early Hebrew and Druidical 
 religions." 
 
 u The serpent was a sacred reptile with Moses. (Numb. 
 xxi. 8.) Moses's rod became a serpent when God declared 
 himself as the self-existent Being, and elsewhere. The 
 
82 
 
 serpent was a sacred reptile among the Egyptians and 
 the Druids. They supposed its spiral coils to represent 
 the eternal existence of the Almighty." The tail in its 
 mouth represented continuance — eternity. 
 
 What odd traces, what old paths, one often treads 
 upon, even now. See this: — " Oramazes, Mithras, and 
 Arimanius, were the Trinity of the Persians. Various 
 were the titles, parables, and fables concerning Mithras. 
 He is represented killing a bull. These gods were types 
 also of the three seasons of the ancients. This is another 
 reason why bulls were offered in sacrifice. Bull-baiting 
 came from the East, a relic of the Mithriatic worship, 
 which yet continues. And the practice is continued on 
 the first of May, significant of the old sign. The 
 Roman Mithras was the same as the Oriental, and 
 Bacchus was the same divinity; and the Bacchic and 
 Tauric worship were one." 
 
 I fear, however, I shall have conveyed to you a con- 
 fused synopsis of this connection of the olden forms of 
 worship. If you cannot make much out of it, you must 
 attribute the fault to my selection, as, almost necessarily, 
 it resembles patch-work. I think, however, it is evident 
 that the original design of all worship — the design, I 
 mean, of man's institution of it — was the expression of 
 gratitude and joy for, and trust in God's continuing 
 mercy. The priests were not deceived about the oneness 
 of God — they typified or personified his attributes for 
 the more simple comprehension of His worshippers ; 
 which indeed, in time, displaced the great idea of God's 
 unity, but which nevertheless does not disturb the true 
 origin and great intention to thoughtful minds. That 
 we should rejoice in life — that we should accept in joy 
 all the blessings of a beneficent God, was instilled into 
 the minds of the people, and stands to this day in re- 
 markable contrast to the fearful and distrusting spirit of 
 our infusion, of our religion ; and I think, just as much 
 as the ancients abused this liberty by drunken riot, so 
 also we abuse this caution to cynical self-denial, and 
 just as much to the dishonour of God. 
 
 What a speaking type is that of the Sphynx ! As well 
 as being the type of the kings of Egypt, it is a represen- 
 tation of the signs Leo and Virgo joined together, in com- 
 
83 
 
 memoration of the greater inundation of the Nile, 
 which occurs when the Sun is in those signs. It was a 
 symbol, therefore, of the riches of Egypt — of the munifi- 
 cence of God — and on that account a great favourite in 
 Egyptian architecture. Can you find any one of our 
 ornaments having the same pointed reference to the 
 goodness of God, and illustrative of the time when this 
 beneficence acts upon the earth ? Again, Isis was the 
 mother of man's life, and also the fertile land of the 
 valley of the Nile. She held the Tau $ in her hand; 
 the circle of which expressed continuance, and the cross 
 expressed life : — she would multiply and bless man for 
 ever. 
 
 Joseph and the Egyptians had the same God: see 
 Genesis, xl. 8 ; and xli. 38. But quickly afterwards they 
 declined from this one 'principle, and substituted poly- 
 theism, and offered sacrifices as to many gods. With the 
 people, Osiris was the great god, as acting more manifestly 
 before man; he was the activity of life. But with the 
 priesthood, Ptha was the ineffable spirit, the supreme 
 and only God. They said, " God is neither the object 
 of sense, nor the subject of passion ; but the invisible, 
 the purely intelligible. In his body he is like the light, 
 and in his soul he resembles truth ; — all beings live by 
 Him. There is but One, and he fills immensity: he is 
 the reason, the life, and the motion of all things." But 
 the common people could not comprehend this abstract 
 principle, and so were taught the attributes separately 
 personified. 
 
 The misletoe of the Druids has a significant sense of 
 great things. Virgil calls it the golden branch ; and 
 says, by its efficacious powers alone man could return 
 from the dreary realms beneath. It was the symbol of 
 the resurrection— life arising out of another life. Can 
 you trace why, by holding it over a woman's head and 
 kissing her, she will become gracious and loving ? 
 
 The Moon was always woman's particular goddess. 
 Under the Druids, at the full of the moon, they curtsied 
 to her, and repeated this invocation : — 
 
 " All hail to thee, Moon ! all hail to thee ! 
 I prithee, good Moon, declare to me, 
 This night, who my husband shall be." 
 
84 
 
 LI. 
 
 February 3, 1845. 
 
 I like to hear your objections against my present course 
 of reading. I ask myself more often than you would 
 ask, " Cui bono ? " And that other is a good question of 
 yours also, "What object has the author of the book in 
 these researches ?" If he had no other than to exhibit 
 that this " old barbarian religion " was strictly connected 
 with the oldest forms of man's worship; that it was 
 based in the intention of leading the human mind into 
 the spiritual consideration of material facts, and thus to 
 enlarge, to unfold the intelligence of the creature ; and 
 if, besides, his object was to free this u old form" from 
 the contempt and derision of the present age, — are these 
 objects not good enough for the leisure of a scholar, and 
 for the contemplation of thoughtful minds ? 
 
 At all events, I love to see the impulses of the olden 
 time — what it was that swayed the thoughts of man. I 
 love to trace the onward course of the spirit ; and to feel 
 a fellowship with them that lived in by-gone ages. I love 
 to see how man always has and will persist in asking 
 questions of the Eternal One, in spite of the solitary 
 echo of his own voice, which is so often mistaken for 
 the revealed word. The variableness of these answers 
 seems the proof of man's authority ; and expresses too, 
 that he is uttering words above his comprehension. I 
 contrast this with man's genuine power, with his inward 
 monitor, when left free to its fit cultivation, and see then 
 the precision and unity of the great demand, — Do thy 
 duty ; love God in spirit, and love man in brotherly 
 truth. To point to the wretched results of these old 
 teachings, is to point to what you cannot define as the 
 result of their instruction, but as the result of the abuses 
 of their instruction. May not one point with equal 
 clearness to the abuses of the modern religion of Europe? 
 would that prove ought against its spirit and its true 
 effect on mankind ? Adieu, &c. 
 
 P.S. — My wife desires her love to you. Poor thing ! 
 this morning she found out that she cannot live long — for 
 her hair will not flare in the fire. I immediately wrote for 
 
85 
 
 some "live-long candy." I flattered the chemist who 
 manufactures it, by the following note : " My dear sir, — - 
 This morning my wife discovered her hair would not flare 
 in the fire, and, therefore, that she cannot ' live long.' 
 Be good enough to send a shilling box of your ' live- 
 long candy/ as a compensating fate — to restore chances 
 to the old equilibrium. I am, &c." — He sent the box, 
 with directions, " to be taken speedily, and to use more 
 oil to the hair, and then her faith would be immediately 
 restored.'' 
 
 Will you have a box for any emergency? It is very 
 nice sucking — sugar, ginger, caraway seeds, essence of 
 mint, and some essential bitter. 
 
 LII. 
 
 February 8, 1845.™ 
 I am glad you like my niece. The expression, " If I 
 knew her, I should become fond of her," applies remark- 
 ably well to her. She is a being who is delighted when 
 she pleases another ; her manners express, " If I am 
 wrong, be gentle with me ; but try to convince me, and 
 I'll love you for your pains." And all this is in such 
 good keeping as a whole, her character is so unique, that 
 no one can help sympathising with that girl. 
 
 The unity of a person's mind is always a prime cause 
 of our loving them. The sincere hate anomalies ; and, 
 without our quite understanding wherefore, when we 
 feel repugnance to another, it arises generally from the 
 unfit mixture of qualities in that person, although they 
 may not be well defined in our minds. As Emerson 
 says, " Character teaches over our heads ? " There is 
 also a natural want of unison between the sincere and 
 affected — as wide a difference as between musical instru- 
 ments without accord. An affected woman, a proud man, 
 are anomalies in nature. Even the affected and the proud 
 hate these qualities in another. But if a being be in 
 unison in every tone, however variously educated, how- 
 ever differently placed in life, how much soever under 
 other controlling circumstances, we are not offended in 
 them, but become charitable, for dear nature's sake. 
 
 I was much struck, in reading Heber's " Indian 
 Journey," by his observations on the naked inhabitants. 
 e 5 
 
" My great fear," he says, "was of being shocked, and, 
 of course, of my wife becoming shocked and dreadfully 
 embarrassed too, by seeing the naked inhabitants. But I 
 was astonished beyond measure at the first effect upon 
 me. I thought it even appropriate, this almost perfect 
 nakedness. A few days after, I saw one of these put on 
 a sailor's jacket as an adornment and apology for his 
 undress, and then all the hideousness of the costume 
 came offensively before me. We hate anomalies ?" I have 
 abridged his words. 
 
 By the bye, does not your favourite Wordsworth 
 exhibit himself sometimes in this odd dress ? Is not " Peter 
 Bell" done off in another man's jacket ? You know, how- 
 ever, that I have no great love for poetry; I cannot wade 
 through a lot of rhyme, to pick up a thought here and 
 there. For this reason, I like blank verse better; the 
 chances are greater for close reasoning and free illustra- 
 tion. I'll tell you another fancy of mine: 1 like the 
 second part of music better than the first; and the base 
 better than the treble ; and the solemn organ better than 
 the sweetest of all songs. 
 
 Do you ever have the tooth-ache ? 1 was recommended 
 yesterday to make a pepper pill with bread, wrap it up in 
 fine linen, and tie it with a silk thread; which thread is to 
 hang out of the ear, but I think the pill is to go into the 
 tooth; and yet this seems difficult— Oh, I believe pill 
 and all go into the ear, except the thread. The pill will 
 then attract the pain from the nerve of the tooth, and 
 deposit it in the bread ; — the silk thread is to draw out pill, 
 pain, and all I This seems a simple remedy at all events ! 
 
 I have often thought the " Sorrows of Werter" 
 overvalued, and particularly the " Wilheim Meister ; " 
 I was therefore glad to see Carlyle's opinion. He says, 
 they have been miserably translated and abridged, at 
 least the " Werter." The philosophical disquisition upon 
 the means of happiness in man's power, and the force 
 of circumstances in so much swaying man's destiny — the 
 dissatisfaction and doubt of the youthful mind, and the 
 uncertainty and dread of the inquiring spirit upon re- 
 ligion,— these parts have all been left out ; and the bare 
 tale, which indeed was only the vehicle, is alone given, 
 and given in a spirit fit only for a trashy circulating 
 
87 
 
 library. The other day I saw the " Wilheim Meister" 
 marked as translated by Carlyle, and bought it; but I am 
 now equally unfortunate, and can make nothing of it — 
 indeed, I cannot read the whole. 
 
 I am now reading " Lane's Modern Egyptians." 
 These people have now become " neither fish nor flesh/' 
 neither Turks nor natives of the soil, but a mixed and 
 spoiled " mess of pottage." I much wanted to see the 
 foot-marks of the old country among them; but, by pur- 
 pose of their masters, all these things are obliterated as 
 nearly as posible ; there is a complete change in their 
 religion. 
 
 What a lovely day this is ! and though it is mid-winter, 
 and vegetation all lifeless, yet how can one help feeling 
 this sunshine as the harbinger of God's summer — of 
 his munificence and mercy for ever? And yet our parson 
 says, " For our sin, for one breach of the command- 
 ments, man shall surely be a cast-away, unless and 
 because of the electing love of Jesus Christ." Man's 
 reason must die off, before he can believe such stuff as 
 this. 
 
 I inclose herewith an abridged extract, from Lane's 
 Egyptians, of the marriage ceremony, which is a graphic 
 illustration of the social manners of that people. Good- 
 bye, &c. 
 
 " Courtship and Marriage of the Egyptians. 
 
 " The young people rarely see each other before marriage. The 
 mothers, respectively, generally conduct the preliminaries. There are, 
 however, regular " go-between's," in Egypt as well as elsewhere, for 
 cases of need. The girl is reported to the young man, and the same on 
 the other side, where their inclinations are at all studied. To the girl he 
 is represented as ' young, graceful, beardless, with plenty of money — 
 dresses well, is fond of delicacies, but cannot enjoy his luxuries alone — 
 he wants you to participate in his joy: he will give you everything ; he 
 will be always with you, caressing and fondling you.' Of course this is 
 the key to the great want of the Egyptian lady. To the man she is 
 represented as ' a gazelle, young, elegant, and full of love.' After this 
 report, the parents settle household matters, and fix the price of the 
 lady — for they are always bought. Still this purchase-money has the 
 same signification as our pin-money — is a proviso for accidents. The 
 law of divorce is easy and frequent, and therefore there is some good 
 sense in providing against abandonment. The marriage is a civil con- 
 
88 
 
 tract, as of old, and performed by proxy on the part of the girl. On the 
 day appointed for the marriage, the bridegroom goes to the bride's house, 
 with some friends, taking also the dowry, and are received by the bride's 
 proxy. The company then recite the opening chapter of the Koran. 
 After which the bridegroom and proxy sit upon the ground, face to face, 
 and grasp each other's right hand, raising the thumbs, and pressing them 
 against each other. 
 
 " A man then — a sort of half priest and schoolmaster — recites portions 
 of the Koran, on the excellency and advantages of marriage ; and ex- 
 horts them to good conduct. He then desires the proxy to say, ' I be- 
 trothe to thee my daughter (as the case may be) Bernice, the virgin, for 
 a dowry of fifty pounds.' To which the bridegreom replies, ' I accept 
 from thee Bernice, betrothed to myself ; and take her under my care, 
 and bind myself to afford her my protection ; and ye who be present 
 now, bear witness to this pledge. Then they add, in unison, ' And bless- 
 ing be on the apostles; and praise be to God, the Lord of all creatures : 
 Amen.' Then is settled when the bride is to be brought to the house of 
 the bridegroom, when the husband for the first time sees her. 
 
 " This day is a feast for the friends of the parties. If it be a first 
 marriage, it is considered proper that both the bride and bridegroom 
 should exhibit some degree of bashfulness. One of his friends there- 
 fore carries him, almost by force, to the harem. The bride is there, 
 entirely covered by a shawl ; and a struggle must ensue for its removal. 
 When removed, he says, ' In the name of God, the Compassionate, the 
 Merciful, may this night be blessed ! ' To which she replies, if timidity 
 do not choke her utterance, ' May God bless thee.' Then the ceremony 
 of the undressing commences, amidst prayers and oblations. In the 
 morning he calls her women, who immediately raise the general cry of 
 joy, which is communicated to the neighbourhood : — 
 
 ' That the bride is satisfied ; that the bridegroom is lord of a new 
 household; 
 
 { That the " Compassionate" has begun a new family upon the earth ; 
 
 s And that the ft Merciful" will increase man for ever: 
 
 ' For He that is Great has again blessed man, 
 
 ' And instilled new life into a virgin of the earth.' " 
 
 If you read this book of Lane's, you will be glad to 
 meet with so much matter illustrative of Bible manners. 
 This chapter on marriage makes Solomon's Songs almost 
 clear and reasonable — if not to the spiritual, at least to 
 the material sense. 
 
89 
 
 Lin. 
 
 February 16, 1845. 
 
 I am afraid you are getting idle, or forgetful of your 
 promise to write often to me. And yet perhaps T have 
 been a little too familiar — like the cabbage-boys of 
 Brighton, who have so much offended the Queen by 
 their impertinent curiosity. Well, tell me plainly, and 
 I'll mend my ways. On acquaintance— on long acquaint- 
 ance, I suppose, for you have known me some ten or 
 twelve years — I improve : by and by you will be less 
 alarmed at my abruptness. Two or three months ago, 
 I met a girl for the first time after a separation of fifteen 
 years — she is the daughter of my schoolmaster. She 
 had seen me often, but we had never met any where to 
 exchange words. When she entered the room, I offered 
 my hand familiarly, but she bowed solemnly and coldly. 
 I went on chatting, called up a few of the images of our 
 childhood, and in two hours she consented to go with us 
 to see her friends in the town my wife and I were 
 journeying to. I asked her then, why she received me 
 so coldly. " Are you surprised at it?" she said. " Yes, 
 you astonished me," I replied. And then she added, " I 
 will confess to you, that I never saw a man whose 
 exterior appeared so haughty, so full of the pride of 
 self-possession. I say this so freely, because I feel 
 ashamed to have been so greatly mistaken, so much de- 
 ceived. But tell me, do other persons think so too ? " 
 What could I say ? I had to confess they did ; but that 
 it arose through my painful modesty and my seclusion. 
 I do think if I had been brought up in " a genteel 
 family/' had been educated in the glossary of u high 
 breeding," I might have made " a shining light" among 
 the " gals." My horny outside is my great denial. 
 
 How different you are ! Your exterior is beautiful, to 
 commence with ; but then, you will show nothing more. 
 Your feelings, your holy thoughts, are kept within, and 
 u no mortal lifts your veil ? Like the Egyptian goddess 
 Ptha, you are impervious to mortal man. I think it a 
 great mistake, that you girls always make, of living upon 
 the mere surface of society ; exhibiting only, not what 
 
90 
 
 your inward intelligence would direct, but what is con- 
 formable to a foolish world's notions of fit speech and 
 good manners, which are, all of them, of as negative a 
 character as possible. 
 
 LTV. 
 
 February 21, 1845, 
 I am sorry to hear your brother is so poorly : he is a 
 lucky dog any way, in having such a nurse. You two 
 are an honour to your relationship. That which I gene- 
 rally see between brothers and sisters is surveillance of 
 exterior propriety, and a little love. Nevertheless, 
 your's would be spoiled a good deal by your marriage ; 
 for we are poor even in love, and soon exhaust our stock, 
 or concentrate it on one object too exclusively. 
 
 There is some comfort, however, that love will not exist 
 but by being fed ; it tells at least, that grief must have a 
 speedy end in separation, for the cold grave gives back 
 no answer. It is matter of wonder indeed, that all grief 
 is short-lived in a true heart. However we may have 
 persuaded ourselves, not grief, but joy, is the natural and 
 great reward of life : the heart will rejoice, and forget its 
 troubles, if only we will say, * Thy will be done/ 
 
 I know I often feel melancholy, perhaps as often as 
 you do ; but I like this feeling — it is the lemon of my 
 punch. The variation is indeed essential to enjoyment — 
 one tires of sunshine even. But if you trust in the great 
 principles of life — in l the order of God/ and trustfully, 
 no grief can overwhelm you, nor any other of the ills of 
 life. Within is the counteracting spring — deep down in 
 the heart's secrets lies, ready to be called, the sustaining 
 power of God's mercy. There is a vast difference 
 between habitual dejection, and a tenderness that sympa- 
 thises deeply with our own, and with another's misfor- 
 tunes. This melancholy is a useful examiner of one's 
 own deeds and purposes. It is a discourse held solemnly 
 in the secret chambers of the man, and is a vital exer- 
 cise of hope and trust. 
 
 I am very glad you like " Palestine." It is a philo- 
 sophic, as well as a religious history of human progress. 
 God's religion is there (and elsewhere indeed) exhibited 
 
91 
 
 to the intelligence of the soul — the religion of holiness 
 of thought and deed ; and no man — no, not any child — is 
 insensible to the demands of its power. What man is 
 there, however untaught, but who knows the essential 
 and true difference between good and evil. But what 
 does he know of — not only the difference, but — the quality 
 of any one abstract doctrine ? The one is intuitive, like 
 the bird's song ; the other artificial, like the starling's 
 power of speech. 
 
 LV. 
 
 March 15, 1845. 
 
 I don't like Miss Bremer's " Nina," that you recom- 
 mended to me. At all events, the teaching of the book 
 seems to have failed in the very examples she produces. 
 Edla wants sweetness, and she never made a friend. 
 Nina had been educated by her, and was a wretched 
 production : such a person could not have been the result 
 of the common sense of Edla. Greta is a better cha- 
 racter than either of these two, and yet she wants a 
 stronger power of nature upon her. Clara is a distor- 
 tion — at least, no girl for me. 
 
 I was much struck by the translation ; it seems done 
 by a German, but revised by some English hand. The 
 beginning is very natural, and very lively idiom. I 
 have fancied, however, as it proceeds, there has been less 
 care taken. I had no idea translation was so difficult 
 until I tried it ; it seems harder work than original com- 
 position. 
 
 Recommend to me a work wherein I can see the process 
 and the result of a good education. If you don't know 
 of such a book, write one, and I will publish it as a 
 speculation. You could accomplish much more than you 
 think possible now. It is this suddenness of the growth 
 of the spirit — the expressed form of our own deeply-seated 
 thoughts, that have never been provoked before to show 
 themselves — that astonishes the man so often, and makes 
 him say, " Thus spake the Lord, &c. ; " for he feels the 
 ideas are bigger than the habitation of his heart. This 
 is the true and undissembled astonishment of the pro- 
 phets, which made them claim the inspiration, wiiile they 
 felt their own nothingness. 
 
92 
 
 I am half ashamed, on reading what I have written 
 about" Nina," that I have expressed myself so decidedly 
 against the book. Your recommendation deserved, at 
 least, a more generous comment. There are many fine 
 passages, as useful as beautiful, spread throughout the 
 work ; and I see I have scored several, with much plea- 
 sure. 
 
 " A weak woman knows not what it is to govern herself ; she knows 
 not the happiness of saying to the contingencies of life, ' Thou canst not 
 overwhelm me.' " 
 
 " One does not grow wise from books alone, nor from wise teaching 
 even ; hut we must have added the power to assimilate various know- 
 ledge, through the exercise of the judgment." 
 
 " Edla had been strong in murmuring, but now she was strong in 
 resignation : bitterness had departed for ever from her heart. Such is 
 the fairest flower of humanity." 
 
 Of the foundation of education, she says — 
 
 " It should be, to develope the reason before the imagination ; to 
 strengthen the judgment before exciting the passions." 
 
 " Whosoever has conscientiously laboured for the good of others, 
 even though no fruit appears, has sown a germinating seed for some one's 
 future sustenance." 
 
 I might indeed quote many others ; but, doubtless, they 
 have also delighted you. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 March 17, 1845. 
 I bought " Rabelais' Works " the other day, that old 
 French wit. That book was the most popular work of 
 his time — was indeed the merriment of Old France. I 
 find however, here as well as elsewhere, I have no good 
 idea of humour. For me, humour must be equally as 
 provocative of serious thought as of merriment. I can- 
 not laugh at any part of this work I have read ; neither 
 can I see how it exhibits in a strong light any argument 
 he uses. This I acknowledge to be blindness ; for the 
 effect of his writings was to disenchant the world about 
 "holy Church." The wit seems exceedingly naked to 
 me, if it be not nasty. 
 
93 
 LVII. 
 
 March 22, 1845. " 
 
 You have not got exactly my idea of appreciating 
 humour. I have a slow apprehension of it; it must be 
 more palpable to me than to you. I do not discover the 
 shades and delicate points of it so quickly, or not so well 
 as you do. Your remark upon its fitness for the parti- 
 cular time of its publication is very just. Another 
 deduction on my part is, in the hard experience of life, in 
 the weary work of constant collision with my fellows — 
 among men of business, who think direct speech the only 
 sensible communication of thought. The wonder is, that 
 I keep so susceptible, so fanciful a spirit as I have. 
 
 I went the other day to see some water-colour draw- 
 ings ; and it will appear equally strange, that I prefer 
 Copley Fielding's style — his subjects rather — to the most 
 beautiful or most elaborate of our modern painters. Hi9 
 Downs, with half a dozen old firs in the foreground and 
 a flock of sheep in the distance, speak to me in a different 
 language from what they would to you. I prefer this 
 class of views to Claude's beautiful landscapes. I think 
 Fielding even has more imagination ! He pleads more 
 against man's wild ambition, and points more to where 
 peace dwells, and health is cultivated, for the lowly as 
 well as for the great. 
 
 Emerson says, " The lover of nature is he whose 
 inward and outward senses are truly adjusted to each 
 other ; who has retained the spirit of infancy into the era 
 of manhood. In the presence of Nature, a wild delight 
 runs through the man, in spite of real sorrows. Nature 
 says, he is my creature, and, maugre all his impertinent 
 griefs, he shall be glad with me.'* These last words fill 
 the heart. 
 
 Afterwards he says, " In the woods we return to reason 
 and faith. Within these plantations of God a decorum 
 and sanctity reign ; a permanent festival is dressed, 
 which the guest sees not how he should tire of in a thou- 
 sand years. Standing there on the bare ground, all 
 mean egotism vanishes. . . . But still nature wears the 
 colours of the spirit ; she has relation to man's soul m 
 health," 
 
94 
 
 Hear this also : " Who looks upon a river in a medi- 
 tative hour and is not reminded of the flux of all things? 
 . . . . Throw a stone into the stream, and the circles that 
 propagate themselves are the beautiful type of all 
 influence." 
 
 And see what gold coin are these words : — " Good 
 thoughts are no better than good dreams, unless they be 
 executed. Our common sense is the hand of the mind." 
 
 And particularly I would recommend to you, " What 
 a searching preacher of self-command is the varying 
 phenomenon of health!" 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 Sandgate, March 23, 1845. 
 
 Here we are, enveloped in one thick fog, which drives 
 like a shower of rain upon you. I have met with just 
 such weather on the hills of Wales. You cannot say it 
 rains ; but, to all the purposes of a soaking, a hard shower 
 would not be more effective. I have been much struck 
 to see how greatly these clouds increase the apparent 
 height of the hills ; just so it is with all our mental delu- 
 sions — mystery creates wonder, and wonder creates de- 
 ception, and so on, until a confused sense will admit 
 anything. 
 
 Do you want a husband? and can you fill up an out- 
 line cleverly, so as to conceive the idea of a decent man? 
 I have an intimate friend here with me, a bachelor, short 
 of fifty ; dark, tall, thin, and not very handsome ; of quick 
 and earnest feelings, of an irritable fibre, but intelligent 
 and gentlemanly. I think he would sometimes make you 
 weep, but then sometimes — how often I cannot say — he 
 would delight every nerve in your frame, and make you 
 freely consent to sponge out weeks of doubtful remem- 
 brance for the sake of such sweet hours — for such agree- 
 able fellowship. He is a well-educated man, fond of 
 poetry, particularly of old songs of passion and pathos. 
 His conversation is intellectual, dealing with the spirit and 
 its influences, instead of money-getting and vulgar ambi- 
 tion. His feelings being warm, are developed with energy 
 — truthfully, and without guile ; but some of the expres- 
 sions appear fidgety, and sometimes desolating to a 
 
95 
 
 sensitive opponent. He is a good son and brother, freely 
 dividing his gains among these relations, like a true heart; 
 but his mental bursts sometimes make them shrink 
 before him. Of course he has sharp edges, and his man- 
 ners have something of the gentlemanly bearing of the 
 last generation. 
 
 Just now he has been amusing us with a story of the 
 " Arabian Nights," where Sinbad visits the " city of the 
 dead," whose inhabitants are turned into stone — all, ex- 
 cept one man, who remained reading the Koran. His 
 approach and walk among the dead — the silence about 
 and within the city— and the low murmur of one voice as 
 he entered the gates, — he portrayed in a poetic spirit, 
 like a mind sensible of the deep meaning of the poet's 
 teaching, " Lo ! the Koran shall be sounded on the 
 earth, though only one voice were there to utter the 
 speech of it." 
 
 I like the man ; I like his truthful utterance. I have 
 seen much of him — have often been annoyed, and have 
 often trembled with delight in accordance with his mind. 
 He is an excellent medicine to your soft talkers and mild 
 thinkers. If they speak before him, they must keep to 
 the text, and exhibit the fact as they feel it, or otherwise — 
 woe to their quality, for most certainly he would shock 
 them. Will he do? Shall I send him to you? Your 
 eye's measure can make nothing of him. If you would 
 prove him, contradict him — and before you will stand 
 the man as Nature designed and framed him. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 March 25, 1845. 
 Hang your Tory principles ! Why should you be of 
 a party ? Cannot yon keep your mind free of these low 
 badges, which, though they are good enough in the 
 House of Commons, are good for nothing elsewhere, 
 but to warp private judgment. If you desire to know 
 what political principle now is, hear Mr. Polk's address : 
 he says, " Mind, no longer tasked in devising means 
 to accomplish or resist schemes of ambition, usurpation, 
 or conquest, is devoting itself to man's true interests, in 
 developing his faculties and powers — and developing 
 
96 
 
 also the capacity of Nature to minister to its enjoyments. 
 Genius is now free to announce its inventions and dis- 
 coveries ; and the hand is free to accomplish whatever 
 the head conceives, not incompatible with the rights of 
 a fellow being." This is the logic that holds firmly 
 upon the very prime of man's happiness, and makes 
 party and its tricks as wise as the contest of apes. I 
 recommend the whole of the speech to you in to-day's 
 Times. 
 
 And so you have never read any of Cobbett's works, 
 that master of earnest and sound English. The man 
 had not much of principle, of political consistency; but 
 he could speak with energy, and did utter present 
 thoughts, in English that was alike eloquent to the 
 scholar and the artisan. His works upon social and 
 household interests are deeply interesting, and his teach- 
 ing consistent with the best interests of all families. " The 
 Reformation" is a one-sided thing, but reads usefully, 
 with the other histories " per contra." 
 
 LX. 
 
 March 29, 1845. 
 
 I am glad you like my quotations from " Emerson's 
 Essays." The mere writing of the words improves my 
 comprehension of the ideas, and, luckily, gratifies you at 
 the same time. No doubt, Emerson has much power 
 over me, and sometimes leads me a little blindfolded. 
 It is honest to confess this weakness, at least. 
 
 What think you of this ? — 
 
 " Idealism sees the world in God. It beholds the whole circle of things 
 and events as one vast picture, which God paints on the instant Eternity, 
 for the contemplation of the soul. The soul sees something more im- 
 portant in Christianity than the history of its church, and is, indeed, very 
 incurious concerning persons and miracles, and not at all disturbed by 
 chasms of historical evidence ; it accepts from God the phenomenon as 
 it finds it, as the purest form of religion in the world." 
 
 Do you like this metaphor, and its teaching? — 
 
 \ " The aspect of Nature is devout. She stands with bended head, 
 and hands folded upon the breast. The happiest man is he who learns 
 from Nature the lesson of worship." 
 
97 
 
 How do you like this simple and beautiful thought? 
 If it be not true— and it must be confessed that our limited 
 experience seems no great support to it — yet the hope- 
 fulness of renovating and improving the public mind lies, 
 as he says, in the youthful energy of our children : — 
 
 " A man is a god in ruins. The world would become insane if he 
 existed for hundreds of years ; it is kept in check by death and infancy. 
 Infancy is the perpetual Messiah, which comes into the arms of fallen 
 man, and pleads with them to return to paradise." 
 
 The holiness of youth, when properly guided, is 
 remarkable — their sense of right and wrong would be 
 amazing, unless we trace the implanted germ there to 
 God. The example of bad associates, and the appa- 
 rent success of impure deeds — these things dwarf the 
 pure spirit ; but these are to be prevented, although 
 with great difficulty. 
 
 Of these words again, the same proof of experience 
 seems against them, and yet I venture to think that the 
 experience refers more to the preceding evil of the 
 world, than to the true quality of man's nature : — 
 
 " In the uttermost meaning of the words, Thought is devout, rand 
 Devotion is Thought. ' Deep calls unto deep.' Is not a prayer also a 
 study of truth — a sally of the soul into the unfound infinite % No man 
 ever prayed heartily without learning something. It shall answer the 
 endless inquiry of the intellect, ' What is truth ? ' and of the affections, 
 ' What is good ? ' As far as you conform your life to the pure idea in 
 your mind, that will unfold its great proportions." 
 
 Speaking of general enlightenment, and of the influ- 
 ences of age upon youth, whether for good or evil, he 
 
 says — 
 
 " Slowly, like the light of morning, it steals on us. We, who were 
 pupils, are now society. We are the representatives of Religion and 
 Intellect, and stand in the light of ideas, whose rays stream through us 
 to those younger and more in the dark." 
 
 Of the many and bold sentiments published, he says — 
 
 " Let it not be recorded of us, that we were afraid of any new fact, or 
 sacrificed our freedom of thought. What is the scholar, what is the man 
 for, but for hospitality of every new thought of his time ? Have you 
 leisure and power? — you shall be the asylum and patron of every 
 
improved opinion, every untried project, which proceeds out of good- 
 will and honest seeking." 
 
 I would recommend to you, also, a little of his political 
 teaching. Of the Whig and Tory party he says, how 
 truly ! — 
 
 " It is the opposition of Past and Future, of Memory and Hope, 
 of the Understanding and the Reason. Conservatism makes no poetry, 
 breathes no prayer, has no invention ; it is all memory. Reform has 
 no gratitude, no prudence, no husbandry. Each is a good half, but 
 an impossible whole. Each exposes the abuses of the other ; but in 
 a true society, in a true man, both must combine." 
 
 Notice particularly the story of the Newsman and the 
 Old Dweller, in that essay, " The Conservative." 
 
 " The Transcendentalist " will not please you, I think. 
 But there are some ideas of singular application to a 
 friend of mine, and very striking in themselves. Speak- 
 ing of lonely spirits, he says — 
 
 u This retirement does not proceed from any whim ; but if any one 
 will take the pains to talk with them, he will find that this part is chosen 
 both from temperament and from principle — with some unwillingness too, 
 and as a choice of the less of two evils. For these persons are not by 
 nature sour, melancholy, and unsocial, but joyous, susceptible, and 
 affectionate : they have, even more than others, a great wish to be loved. 
 
 .... They wish a just and even fellowship, or none A profound 
 
 nature will have a savage rudeness. 'Tis strange, but this is the result of 
 an extreme delicacy. A picture, a book, a favourite spot on the hills or 
 in the woods, which they can people with the fair creations of their 
 fancy, can give them often forms so vivid, that these, for the time, shall 
 seem real, and society the illusion." 
 
 I presume, however, that the following passage will 
 go beyond your admission ; you should remember 
 though, that the essay is upon Transcendentalism : — 
 
 li What you call your fundamental institutions, your great and holy 
 causes, seem to such men great abuses and paltry matters. Each 
 cause, as it is called, becomes speedily a little shop ; and, let it have been 
 at first never so subtle and ethereal, is now made up into portable and 
 convenient cakes, and retailed in small quantities, to suit purchasers. 
 You make very free use of the words, great and holy ; but few things 
 appear to them such. Their great things are, Truth, Goodness, and 
 Beauty; each, in its perfection, including the three, like the Eternal 
 Trinity." 
 
You say you are fond of skipping through a dry 
 book. In Lord Karnes's " Sketches of Man," that I re- 
 commended to you, pray read the first book attentively. 
 The second book will be less interesting, but there you 
 may see the origin of many of man's impulses. In 
 Volume Two, just read the thirty pages "Of Public Po- 
 lice with respect to the Poor." The world is beginning 
 to see that these views are the right views. Book Third, 
 (same volume), " Of Reason," is also worthy your study. 
 From p. 168 to 239, lt On Logic," you may pass ; but that 
 • On Morality " I recommend, though it sadly wants 
 condensation. Onwards to p. 308, "The Principles and 
 Progress of Theology," should have your careful 
 reading. 
 
 No doubt this book is surpassed and left behind by 
 new matter ; still there is an earnestness and a raciness 
 in the old man's style very interesting. It is like a real 
 gossip with a well-informed old man, that cannot but 
 instruct you. 
 
 You know we have been often confused by election and 
 free will ; —by calling upon us to act, and yet saying, no 
 man can begin but by God's direction. If you will 
 substitute the principle in the place of the person — say- 
 ing goodness instead of God — then you may perceive no 
 man can purify himself but by adopting the principle of 
 goodness first. The principle is the power — God is all 
 in all. 
 
 Read David's Psalms, wherein he cries for God's 
 mercy and aid against his enemies. If you substitute 
 the word wickedness for enemies, you will be surprised 
 to see the new light upon the " Song." 
 
 There is very little literal meaning in any Eastern 
 words — perhaps not much in any words or things. 
 The ancients understood most things as types of thought 
 — they were idealists. We are materialists in our de- 
 ductions, but we are taught to believe of them as idealists : 
 we say one thing, and nearly mean another. I think the 
 Orientalists were less deceived in the meaning of the 
 words than we are. 
 
 How do you read that inscription upon the Temple of 
 Nature : "I am every thing that has been, that is, 
 and that shall be ; and no mortal has yet lifted my veil." 
 
100 
 
 Apuleius reads it, " I am Nature, parent of all thing?, 
 the concentrated God. I create and I destroy. I keep 
 the living, and judge the dead. I govern the elements, 
 and direct the universe. My divinity is single, though 
 represented as several : I am all things to all people." 
 
 Of the omnipresence of God, what a complete idea you 
 may gather of it, by substituting the words goodness and 
 right design: you may feel Him then in your hand. 
 
 LXL 
 
 April 4, 1845. 
 
 Did I send you " Wade's Journal ? " This man is a 
 favourite of mine. His " History of the Middle and 
 Working Classes" is a clever thing, full of good sense ; 
 and nearly the first book I have seen which truthfully 
 exhibits the importance of them to the community. 
 His " Chronological History of England " is a useful 
 book of reference, and contains, besides, a most useful 
 philosophy for the middle classes ; it exhibits the con- 
 necting link between distant causes and great events — 
 how legislative acts of by-gone times are working issue 
 now, and fearfully ; — what care, therefore, should be 
 taken in our choice of representatives \ 
 
 Sunday Morning. 
 
 How strange is the association of ideas ! I remember 
 the symbol of things better than the thought of things — 
 the symbol will move me deeper oftentimes than the 
 spirit it represents. I associate more solemnity with the 
 sound of the church bells, than with the prayers of the 
 Church. I carry my childhood's feelings always with 
 me. I remember when I first left home, and was sub- 
 mitted to the temptations of the world, that then these 
 Sunday bells recalled more vividly the early principles 
 I had been taught, than the action of my intellect. The 
 merry chimes of the city of Bath have often sounded to 
 me, ' Thou shalt hear — Whither goest thou — what are 
 thy objects, this day ? ' 
 
 This power upon man was early pushed to extreme, 
 into an abuse. With the unenlightened spirit, something 
 of this action is essentially necessary; but where did 
 
101 
 
 man ever stop on the confines of reason, in spiritual 
 things ? 
 
 The Egyptians believed in the immortality of the soul, 
 and taught it. Moses knew the Egyptian lore, knew of 
 this immortality of the soul— and taught it not. As if 
 from seeing the abuses of the Egyptians — substituting 
 contemplation for activity — the theory of some fatuous 
 sentiment for the labour of love — he taught a law of 
 works, and man's power in work. Then came Jesus of 
 Nazareth, and annexed the immortality of the soul, and 
 the necessity of a simple faith in God's mercy, for all 
 things. They both produce the same result, or are in- 
 tended to produce the same result. Moses taught con- 
 fidence in the work ; and Jesus, confidence in the 
 principle, that being in God, and therefore God. But 
 is this the place where our Church stops ? or does it run 
 on beyond the confines of reason, and teach man there- 
 fore to profess what he cannot comprehend by any pos- 
 sibility of his faculties ? 
 
 If you read " Isaac's Customs of the Jews," you will 
 be astonished to see how they have symbolized the plain 
 teaching of Moses, and distorted his common-sense re- 
 membrances of things into some mysterious power of 
 God. Our tendency, for all ages, seems to be, to keep 
 fast by the shadow, and to be careless of the substance 
 of things. 
 
 I was going to Sandgate on Good Friday, and had to 
 wait some hours, because the trains do not run during 
 divine service. They run during divine service from 
 all other stations, but not from London ! Some time 
 since there was a great cry made about opening the 
 London Post Office on Sundays : " Oh, it was a 
 blasphemy ! " as if every other village and town in the 
 land did not so desecrate the sabbath. As a principle, do 
 tell me what this action is worth, in the sight of God ? 
 
 Were you ever in London on Sunday? Its stillness is 
 remarkable in the neighbourhood of the Exchange, 
 during divine service. On Good Friday, there was 
 hardly a soul to be seen, at that time. I distinctly heard 
 the reverberation of a man's footsteps from the walls of 
 the Exchange, and no sound is more strange, or so much 
 surprises the imagination. When my friend so admi- 
 
 F 
 
102 
 
 rably told the story of the City of the Dead, I remembered 
 this sound in Cornhill, and enjoyed the tale the more by 
 such association. 
 
 Did you see in the Times of yesterday, that two thieves 
 stole some land from a poor man, and then squabbled 
 about which has most right to possession ? One said 
 " It is close to mine — will make my land complete— and 
 I want it." The other said, " Nay, but it is mine by prior 
 possession— of part at least. I'll give you a share will- 
 ingly : if that won't do, by God's blessing, I'll maintain 
 my right to the death ?" See the Oregon Territory : Polk 
 versus Peel. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 April 7, 1845. 
 
 I am sorry to hear of your father's illness. Cannot 
 you make an assistant nurse of your brother? I wish at 
 least I could come and help you. Any way, however, 
 take every advantage of small opportunity for rest; 
 if you will, you will be surprised to find how many odd 
 minutes are useful to the provident. 
 
 Grief is no very distressing thing to a healthy mind. 
 So far as I know, the loss even of one's children has a less 
 painful character than a discontented and fretful temper. 
 Even imaginary sorrows act much more injuriously on 
 the constitution. 
 
 That seems almost a foolish thought of your's, that 
 desire " to be a bird, and flee away." Is a bird without 
 difficulty, think you ? It was a sharp frost last night ; 
 — if you had been a rook, what would you have done 
 for a breakfast ? or if some sentimental Cockney had 
 " let fly" at you on a bean field, what would you have said 
 about " being at rest ? " 
 
 I saw an old friend of mine the other day for the first 
 time these three years. A prouder man, a man more satis- 
 fied with himself, I never knew. I had heard he had been 
 unfortunate in business. I met him in the throng by 
 the Mansion House, and asked him how he was getting 
 on. " I am left alone in the world," he said ; " my poor 
 wife died broken-hearted in August last, and I have not 
 a home." Poor fellow ! he was walking among the 
 busy, to cheat his poor heart into the idea of some 
 
103 
 
 occupation at least, that he might forget the solitude of 
 his being. This is grief: where the backward view is a 
 constant accusation ; this is the chief sting of affliction. 
 I say this for your comfort, and not to upbraid the poor 
 fellow ; and besides, if each one had his deserts, I am 
 not at all sure I should not have failed also. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 April 9, 1845. 
 
 Your defects that you speak of are not contended 
 against at the right time. I hold cheaply such com- 
 plaints as " want of power." A man has a great deal of 
 his own happiness in his own hands ; we have a great 
 deal of power committed to us. To determine to do a 
 thing at the right time, is to create power to do it. 
 
 And so you call Miss Martineau " a foolish old 
 woman." Margaret, in " Deerbrook," is a good deal like 
 you. I confess, I was disappointed in Mary. Notice 
 the evening's conversation between these two women 
 about Enderby : — foolish old woman indeed ! 
 
 Last night, " in talking over things," as you ladies 
 say, in that reviewing place of awful import to most of 
 us — "the curtain lectures," — I asked my wife, what 
 you could mean by " Creature of influence, sorely 
 tried, &c." " I suppose," she replied, " she herself 
 hardly knows, — some indefinite feeling of uneasiness — 
 the promptings of some oddity in nature, pleading for 
 unfulfilled purposes." Whenever guessing is permitted, 
 you women are inimitable ; and, besides, make no bones 
 about it — have little hesitation and fear of wrong saying, 
 but bluntly record your fiat as' Heaven's truth. 
 
 You call me pertinacious ; my wife calls me a maux, 
 whom every one may sway by a little oil. Her father 
 calls me a spendthrift; and others of my dear friends 
 say, I am a stingy dog. One, that I roll in wealth ; 
 another, that I have enough to do to make the two ends 
 meet. To please people, I have sold my horse, and cut 
 down every expense ; and, to please other people, I now 
 and then give away a sovereign or so ; — in fact, I am 
 like the old man carrying the donkey over the bridge ; 
 and that makes your observation about my pertinacity 
 uncommonly pleasant ! No two men think alike ; and 
 f 2 
 
104 
 
 no two differ, without feeling surprise at the other's 
 mistake: what wonder, you should now and then be 
 denounced ? 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 April 13, 1845. 
 
 Every day some new thought, some different mode of 
 looking at events, enters my head. Many things that I 
 held fast, I now hold loosely ; and many ideas I thought 
 fixed, have changed in important particulars. What 
 man of a thoughtful spirit can escape these consequences? 
 What folly, then, to flout in one's face, " Oh, you are a 
 turn-coat." It is to the honour of a man boldly to declare 
 his altered convictions ; and the chief inquiry for us 
 should be, " Is the reason given for the change a good 
 one?" 
 
 Sir Robert Peel is an altered man. He is convinced 
 by the evidence of circumstances, that this country can 
 only be governed by public opinion expressed by the mass 
 of the people. He can no longer depend upon the repre- 
 sentative quality of the House of Commons : class legis- 
 lation will no longer be borne by the country. His pre- 
 sent position would be a risk no ambitious man — no man, 
 at least, of his ambition — would venture upon, if he 
 believed his power lay principally in Parliament. He 
 calculates upon the common sense of the country, on the 
 " still small voice" of public intelligence, and calculates 
 safely. 
 
 It is not possible for any thoughtful mind to look 
 carefully at our public schools, at even our charity schools, 
 and see the progress of real information ; and to see the 
 spring and energy of the middle classes, and their ambi- 
 tion to take rank, as intellect against intellect, — it is not 
 possible to see this movement from below, and not feel 
 certain that mere power, mere determination of rank, 
 and the right divine of rulers, are now all in the death- 
 struggle. 
 
 The "Maynooth Grant" is fiercely assaulted. Where- 
 fore ? Tithes were intended for the benefit of the people : 
 to suppose them for the benefit of the clergy, except as a 
 purchase for labour done, is a fallacy, now also in the 
 death-struggle. Who is to judge of the application of this 
 
105 
 
 benefit, but tbe people from whom they are taken ? What 
 labour have you given for these tithes ? What equiva- 
 lent have the people received? Why persist, after a 
 struggle of three hundred years, in forcing your doc- 
 trines down their throat? Why persist in demanding 
 these tithes at the point of the bayonet ? Against a peo- 
 ple, was ever such monstrous violation committed before 
 in a civilized nation ? Oh, for shame ! Righteousness 
 would make you disgorge the whole, and not make the 
 clangour of devils over a small restitution. 
 
 Of the Apocryphal New Testament I knew nothing 
 until a few days ago. Of the Apocryphal Books of the 
 Old Testament, the great wonder to me was, to imagine 
 who could be competent to separate the spurious books 
 from the genuine, when all had been received for ages as 
 the words of God. But here now is another selection, a 
 selection from the new books in the fourth and fifth cen- 
 turies. This selection sprung out of a quarrel between 
 Alexander of Alexandria, and Arms, a presbyter of his 
 diocese. It was discovered in this quarrel, that many of 
 these books bore the inference of Christ's humanity; and 
 the council of Nice, of 100 bishops, condemned Arius 
 and his doctrines; and agreed also to revise and make a 
 selection from the sacred books. A more general council > 
 of 318 bishops, was held ; and then was selected our pre- 
 sent New Testament, as being the only true and inspired 
 word of God. 25 books were rejected, and 27 retained. 
 
 " The mode of selection — the final mode, after a very 
 stormy debate of considerable time (as one might easily 
 understand of man's judgment in so radical a determina- 
 tion), was this : They promiscuously put all the books 
 under the communion table, and then besought the Lord 
 in prayer, that the inspired books might get up upon the 
 table, but the spurious ones remain behind; and it was 
 so accordingly. No doubt there was a proper hand be- 
 neath the table ; for certainly the selection is a credit to 
 the miracle." The Editor adds, " After eighteen centu- 
 ries of bloodshed and cruelties perpetrated in the name 
 of Christianity, Christianity is gradually emerging from 
 the mystifying subtleties of fathers, councils, and hierar- 
 chies, and the encumbering edicts of soldier kings and 
 Papal decretals." 
 
106 
 
 " Charmed by the love of its primitive simplicity, every 
 sincere human heart will become a temple for its habita- 
 tion. Thus will be established the religion of Him who, 
 having; the same interest with ourselves in the welfare of 
 mankind, left us, for the rule of our happiness, the sum 
 and substance of his code of peace and good-will : — 
 * Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, 
 do ye even so unto them/ " 
 
 It is impossible not to see that the Catholics set aside 
 the inspiration of the Scriptures; for no sane being could 
 venture to say, that God's word is not the proper and 
 sole guide for man. They express more significantly 
 than words can, their disbelief of inspiration. Religion 
 is man's work — the superstructure and material edifice : 
 the foundation is duty and love, implanted by God. 
 
 As we progress, as the mind of man becomes en- 
 lightened, in that measure will mankind make religion 
 square with our comprehension and conscience. This 
 principle has been at work in every age, and kept pace 
 with the general mind. The mistaken fear is, that, as 
 man turns away from the old ritual, so will he also turn 
 away from the vitality of religion. This can only be 
 true of the mere animal. But educate your people in the 
 principles of Jesus, and then you will perceive this mind 
 will be man's guide, and these principles the glory of 
 man. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 April 16, 1845. 
 I do not draw the same conclusions from Byron's 
 " Cain " that you do. His was a daring spirit, regard- 
 less of consequences ; he pushed every principle to the 
 extreme. "Heaven and Earth" is the first chapter of 
 Genesis forced beyond the boundary of rational de- 
 duction. " Cain " is something more : he has worked 
 here upon his imagination, and has left a melancholy 
 and distressing picture. No one will arrive at the 
 same conclusion in reading the Satan of the " Paradise 
 Lost." By the bye, the germ of the "Paradise Lost" 
 is in the " Book of Nicodemus " in the apocryphal New 
 Testament. It would remarkably strike you. 
 
107 
 
 I quite agree with your remarks on the " Cenci." 
 Shelley had a kindred spirit to Byron's. He had more of 
 poetry, but less of clear intensity ; he deplored the events 
 of life as greatly, and from the same indignation. Byron's 
 scepticism was based in high-minded jealousy — it was 
 disbelief arising out of the unfitness of religion to the 
 majesty of God. They both doubted, not of God, but of 
 man's representation of God. 
 
 Well, what do you think of Macaulay's philippic against 
 the ministers, in the Times ? Disraeli's is very smart and 
 clever. But the former's is the statesman's review, the 
 master's retrospect, and condemnation. Did you wince? 
 
 LXVT. 
 
 April 19, 1845. 
 
 That is an odd fancy of your's, to make it a charge 
 against a man's merit, that he has availed himself of ano- 
 ther man's knowledge. It is imperative on every author 
 to become acquainted with what has been written on the 
 same subject, and to adopt as much of the information 
 as agrees with his theory. By such a process nearly all 
 knowledge is accumulated. Very few men — if even any 
 one — can build from a beginning, and finish alone, any 
 theory. Coombe does all that is required : he acknow- 
 ledges Lavater as the chief father of Phrenology, and 
 he understands that the world already knows what 
 belongs to Lavater. The great question is, Has he car- 
 ried the information farther? has he added to our know- 
 ledge ? Who could write on astronomy without being 
 indebted to Newton ? Would any man need to quote all 
 he learned from him ? 
 
 I never yet saw a woman who could separate the idea 
 of her life and her death. She can never think of her 
 body in the grave, without connecting the feeling of life 
 there. My wife has read your letter, and shudders about 
 your plan of burning the dead, and depositing the ashes 
 in urns S She is for vaults with shelves, wrapped in 
 swaddling clothes — no coffin, no horrible nailing up; 
 and, if possible, no destruction. She is an Egyptian : 
 you are a fire-worshipper, a Persian. For myself, I 
 have no liking for your potted essences ; I think the old 
 
108 
 
 plan good enough. I hold upon the spiritual existence 
 of them departed. Dr. Johnson was beset by some such 
 horrible fear of death as you describe. Sweep such 
 foolish thoughts away. 
 
 It is a singular fact, that death never appears distress- 
 ing as we come near to it. I never yet heard of a per- 
 son's distraction about the dread prison, at the point of 
 death. Of those who have recovered from drowning, 
 they all say, the hold upon dear friends was alone pre- 
 sent to their thoughts ; the last case I heard of said, 
 " I thought only of dear mother and her grief." I have 
 seen several die, and there is nothing distressing about 
 the departure ; they seem rather to desire to go, if under 
 lingering disease. 
 
 As I have said to you before, melancholy is an acci- 
 dent to life j joy is the natural quality of the soul. As a 
 man is simple and good, in that proportion is the soul 
 easy and undisturbed by every dread that visits the 
 wicked. It may be questioned whether there is any 
 unfortunate condition for a good man, so much is he 
 able to profit by all things : " All things work together 
 for good to them that believe in God." 
 
 The conductor of the omnibus I often ride upon was 
 coming home one evening last week, and, in the middle 
 of Hammersmith Bridge, he cried out to the coachman, 
 " Pull up — wo." " Here, take this," he added, giving 
 him the purse, " Good bye — all's right ;" and immediately 
 jumped over into the water. That seems departing 
 quietly, as the cause was onlv a troublesome wife I 
 
 LXVIL 
 
 April 20, 1845. 
 
 Out upon you— out upon you, cravens ! There is 
 your man, your " chosen one," looking down upon you 
 with sheer contempt, defying your utmost indignation, 
 and acting against your sense of justice and good policy : 
 — and yet, for fear, for very fear of your enemies, you 
 have no sufficient intellectual confidence to act as inde- 
 pendent men, to act independently of the principles of 
 your enemies ! 
 
 What a statesman-like "summing up" was that of 
 
109 
 
 Sir Robert Peel's on Friday (see the Times of that 
 day), and what a calm and manly order issued against 
 you ! And then, in answer to Sir R. H. Inglis's ques- 
 tion (a trapping question, and designed, besides, to cause 
 the indignation of his own friends to act, if possible) he 
 said, "I will not pledge myself, that I will not endow 
 the Catholic priesthood." Brave fellow ! That answer 
 has made him the king of the intellect of the House of 
 Commons, for he stands now above the prejudices and 
 bigotry of all parties — Tories, Whigs, and Dissenters. 
 
 This your man has so raised himself above the House, 
 or has so filled the measure of his ambition, as to be 
 calm enough, and possess leisure enough, in the thick of 
 this turmoil, to be able generously to forgive the blind- 
 ness of his old friends ; to put by quietly the new love 
 of the Whigs, saying, " Do as you please ; this bill has 
 no relation to your wishes. I have sought nothing from 
 you ;' and also to compliment the young and rising talent 
 of the House, as if to them he committed the destiny 
 of the country, separate and distinct from the old and 
 worn-out power of the stiff-necked Whig and Tory. 
 
 " No," he seems to confess, u \ I have opened my eyes ; 
 my policy is changed. I have tried long enough the 
 power of might; and now I will see what the power of a 
 generous, orderly, and progressive power of right may 
 accomplish upon a difficult people. And of this change 
 I hereby give notice to the world." 
 
 I have just been to church, and have heard a sermon 
 from a young divine — so young as to look almost boyish 
 — as much like the calm review of a long life's expe- 
 rience in man's principles of conduct, as any sermon I 
 ever heard. Without pretence of action, he has that 
 manner of speaking — that form of mouth (there is a 
 good deal in physical form) expressly made for utter- 
 ance, and earnest but quiet command over the attention 
 of other men. There is a distinctness in every word, 
 infinitely better than a loud voice, and a knowledge of 
 the necessity of continuity in understanding him, far 
 more effective than forcible passages here and there, — 
 which, proceeding from one so young, who evidently has 
 a fertile mind, is altogether surprising to me. He has 
 the good taste, too, of speaking in Scripture language, 
 f 5 
 
110 
 
 without appearing to quote, or, at least, of fitting his own 
 expressions to a very similar simplicity and earnestness. 
 At times he lay upon the cushion, and repeated succes- 
 sively many of the pithy sentences of Bible truth, of 
 deepest import to man, and exactly illustrating his pre- 
 ceding argument. 
 
 His discourse was upon the need of separating our- 
 selves from those whose chief root of action, whose 
 motive power, is not in unison with our's. "Whosoever 
 has not the power of God's law upon his heart is not a 
 Christian. Though he should profess the name and be 
 baptized, unless the agency is ' holiness to the Lord,' 
 and beneficence .to his fellow men, he is not a Christian 
 — is not a native of our true soil. We must win him, or 
 leave him." And so he proceeded, applying his argu- 
 ment not to seels, but to principles — not to doctrinal defi- 
 nition, but to the germinating love of God. 
 
 Is it not rather surprising, that our very young minis- 
 ters preach for a clean heart ; our middle-aged, for a 
 true belief; and our old men, for what practical applica- 
 tion of work they can get ? 
 
 Your idea of Miss Butcher is altogether out of the 
 truth. She is thin, of small figure, and all intelligence; 
 though the particular range of it lies in humour and song. 
 She is the quickest creature alive ; in whose company 
 every person is merry, without being able to say where- 
 fore. Unfortunately, like so many others, she has been 
 miserably associated — has never had the fair provocative 
 of generous contention for her powers, or otherwise she 
 would have become a burnished gem. 
 
 Your u constitutional fever " you speak of, acts wildly 
 enough. You ride a horse you are told will throw you ; 
 and because you think it likely, you determine to con- 
 tinue it. Even " make your will, and burn papers. " You 
 have need of some greatly redeeming powers, that your 
 friends may not dub you something worse than " a 
 goose." This is the eccentric action of a being wanting 
 a concentrated home, to give steady and useful direction 
 to strong and deep-seated sentiment. Say what you will, 
 the Egyptians were a clever people ; they denominated 
 creatures by signs, more expressive of them than volumes 
 of illustration. A single woman is a half circle. Is this 
 
Ill 
 
 because you will neither roll nor stand still, except upside 
 down? 
 
 I wish I could put my hand upon a passage that 
 defines the difference between genius and talent. I 
 remember the spirit of it; but the exact words have 
 escaped me. "A man of genius gives birth to thought 
 — originates ideas, is not imitative. A man of talent 
 concentrates, accumulates, and applies ideas already 
 afloat, and so gives useful direction to scattered frag- 
 ments, and is imitative. The genius cares less for 
 results, so he may create ideas ; but talent looks always 
 steadily for the production." You have genius; my 
 wife has talent. How, say you ? — she has had fifteen 
 children. 
 
 I told my children yestesday at breakfast, that when 
 they died I meant to char them and put them in pots ; 
 you cannot imagine their astonishment. The mother 
 said, " Char me, or them, if you dare : I'll haunt you as 
 a flaming urn, if you do." She dreamt last night there 
 was a large bonfire, and all at once the flames went out, 
 but up sprung a frightful mass of sparks that astonished 
 the people. On looking up, she saw a hundred young 
 demons red-hot, dancing in the air to horrid music, 
 at sight of which the people screamed, and woke her. 
 She turned round to me, and said, " Hang that Mary — 
 this comes of her abominable charring." Are not dreams 
 foregone conclusions? 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 April 21, 1845. 
 I have been reading "The Egyptian Antiquities in the 
 British Museum" by Benomi and Arundale. This is 
 a work published since Wilkinson's " Ancient Egyp- 
 tians ;" and I expected great pleasure, and some further 
 knowledge, and also a useful introduction to the speci- 
 mens in the Museum. Wilkinson's knowledge is con- 
 fessedly limited — many things are only guessed at ; and 
 the religion — all that part that was conveyed in words — 
 is almost a blank. But this publication is a mere 
 catalogue, and is smothered in daudling detail. This, 
 however, I have gathered from both works, — that God, 
 the one infinite Being, was every where understood by 
 
112 
 
 the priesthood, and that His attributes were personified 
 differently by different churches in Egypt. Phtha ruled 
 here in chief, and Amoun there, and Osiris at another 
 place. In every place there was a Trinity of Father, 
 Mother, Son 5 and in some few places, a fourth was 
 added — the Word. The Son was the god of eloquence, 
 a youth for ever, and partook of both natures, of man and 
 God ; but the Word was all spirit, and not a person. 
 
 How beautiful some of this mythology is ! Athor 
 was goddess of the west, the great nurse of the world ; 
 she presided at every birth. She received the Sun into 
 her arms every night, to recruit his vigour for the morn- 
 ing's race, for man's sake — that the Earth might be blessed 
 with fruitfulness. 
 
 It was customary to chaunt praises to females in the 
 male nomination. This elucidates the Songs of Solomon, 
 for to us they read falsely. You will see this in Lane's 
 " Modern Egyptians." 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 April 22, 1 845. 
 I have just been reading the " leader " in the Times 
 of yesterday, upon the passing of this Maynooth grant ; 
 in which is stated, that " there is an institution in this 
 country like it, as a school for the clergy." And he adds, 
 " Trinity College is without discipline. Cambridge and 
 Oxford are a denial, by cost of maintenance, and they 
 really give no peculiar instruction to the clergy. What 
 is done lately is make-believe ; it rather unfits for the sacer- 
 dotal office." Hearest thou this? and canst thou under- 
 stand that to be the fault of the institutions, or of their 
 government ? And this quarrel— is not this a confession, 
 that a rigid education, literary labour, and, of necessity, 
 a strict examination of the principles of religion, is a 
 process likely to give extension and solidity to Catholi- 
 city ? And if not, why is this infernal cry set up about 
 the ignorance and blindness of her doctrines and her 
 people ? Because me educate most unwisely, is this a 
 reason that the Catholic Church should remain teaching 
 also most unwisely? 
 
 Read also the extracts from the French papers (in 
 
113 
 
 the same paper), headed, " French Views of Maynootn." 
 Ponder upon the concluding words from the ".National :" 
 — "Every dominant Church is oppressive. The Catholic 
 Church is termed barbarous in England. In France, what 
 is barbarous is, the right of examination, the liberty of 
 reason, the independence of the mind ; which studies en- 
 franchise mankind from the received dogmas." After all, 
 however, may not your friend, the Times, be uttering here 
 an admonition to our clergy? It seems to me like saying, 
 " You are an abomination and an abuse, against our in- 
 stitutions — your clutch is that of Mammon." Like Judas, 
 they may go out and hang themselves, these heads of houses. 
 I must confess I am a great sinner —always plaguing 
 you, because you were born a Tory. It's unlucky for 
 you, you had not a Whig father ; nevertheless, I have 
 no idea of sitting down to plague you — only, the words 
 ooze out. If you give me free liberty of speech, you 
 must reckon to have occasionally rough usage ; and you 
 will be a generous girl, if you can forgive it. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 April 23, 1845. 
 
 Have you ever read Irving's " Orations ?" He went 
 mad, it is true ; but there was about the man some ster- 
 ling stuff. If the world had not misled him — had not 
 twisted the energy of his spirit, by its foolish adulation, 
 he would have left behind him a great name, I venture 
 to think. 
 
 In the Preface to the " Orations," speaking of the 
 want of popularity in the style of communicating reli- 
 gious knowledge, he complains of the one form and 
 stiffness of its teaching ; he says — 
 
 " Reading is the food of thought, and thought the cause of action ; 
 and therefore in what proportion the reading of a people is impregnated 
 with religious truth, will the conduct of a people be guided into religious 
 ways. They should be stealthily and skilfully invaded with admonition- 
 And until the ministers do pass the limits of pulpit theology, and take 
 weapons gathered out of every region in which the life of man or his 
 faculties are interested, they will never have great religious triumph, 
 such as beseemeth her great original, and her eternity of freely bestowed 
 well-being. They should obtain the pass-word into every man's encamp- 
 ment ; until then they speak at a distance and disadvantage." 
 
 This is pertinently put, and is good direction. I imagine. 
 
114 
 
 In the Preface to the third edition, he says, shrewdly- 
 enough, if not with great discretion,— 
 
 " I have been abused in every possible way by shallow critics— by 
 gentlemen of taste ; but I know my work too well to be turned aside by 
 the terrors of a goose quill. From two Christian publications, however, 
 who have accused me of speaking unguardedly, and with liberty, of 
 God, I would appeal to the example of the Prophets, the Psalms, and 
 the Apostles, where, not with liberty, but with plainness — with plainness 
 necessary to produce impression — the moral attributes of God, his wrath, 
 his justice, his form of character, and strength of purpose, are interwoven 
 with the noble strain of their discourse. And why ? because it is the 
 only way by which He can brought into contact with the feelings of 
 man, his hopes, his fears, his affections, his imagination, and even his 
 corporeal sensations. Am I to cast away this power for the dry and 
 unsubstantial representations of which our theology, borrowing from our 
 philosophy, hath fallen into ? They may talk of Him as a mighty 
 power, as an universal motion, an unknown existence ; but I must 
 speak of Him as the living God, the God that liveth, the judging God, 
 whose eyes behold, whose eyelids try, the children of men." 
 
 He adds further on — 
 
 " For the taste and style of composition, T carry my appeal from 
 these critics to the fathers of English composition, who have been my 
 models, first of thought, and next of the utterance of thought. Style is 
 not the dress of thought, but the body of thought, and is active and 
 energetic according as the spirit beneath is active and energetic. I fear 
 not to confess, that Hooker, Taylor, and Baxter have been my com- 
 panions and guides. Our nation has returned to this simplicity in 
 poetry, and will also so return for our prose. Those are the fountains 
 of my English idiom ; they showed the construction of sentences, and the 
 majestic glow of a continuous discourse. They seem to think and feel 
 and imagine and reason, all at once ; and the result takes the whole 
 man captive in the chains of a sweet persuasion." 
 
 If his result will not bear this comparison, at least, you 
 cannot quarrel with his authorities; the man had the right 
 key in his hand. In his " Orations " there is much 
 sterling stuff, and the book exhibits the man as of the 
 right build to produce a great effect upon his fellows. He 
 had courage, originality, imagination, large reading, and 
 close application ; he had a large measure of these 
 qualities to bring to bear upon any literary undertaking: 
 — that he failed, was the consequence of some physical 
 disturbance in the brain. 
 
115 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 April 24, 1845. ' 
 Yesterday I had to go to Epsom, " to make faithful 
 declaration to perform the duties of churchwarden for 
 the year ensuing," for the parish in which I sleep. I had 
 to do it to that talented man, xlrchdeacon Wilberforce. 
 He appears young, about forty I think; and is just made 
 Dean of Westminster, as the preparatory step to a bishop- 
 ric. I am told, he has the fairest hopes of any man in 
 the country, to be at the head of our church. His 
 charge to the clergy was excellent. He made religion a 
 principle, a motive power; and every form only a vehicle 
 or manner of expressing it uniformly, for the advantage 
 of our comprehension. He called the ritual an instru- 
 ment, and important only as it acted upon the heart, and 
 brought forth fruit. He went into some detail about this, 
 which he very cleverly brought to bear upon the Pusey- 
 ites. "If your way is an offence to your people, what 
 frugality, what discretion, is that? If we offend our con- 
 gregations, what consequences will be produced? And is 
 the ritual of more consequence than the principle ?" He 
 then rapidly ran through the religious forms of the olden 
 time ; and verily, if he had not been " a sound divine," I 
 should have thought his argument a great risk before 
 such an audience, and even before the public. 
 
 " Do you not know, that the infancy of all things, 
 though perfect in its germ, is expressed feebly, takes 
 on a form not strictly resembling its maturity, and is 
 subject to change, not of character, but of manner? 
 So also have all churches varied, or have died; and 
 so may our's. And besides, Christ gave us no form, 
 made nothing important but principle. Thus our rubric 
 was established with reference to the wants of man, or 
 the supposed wants of man, at that time; and if so, is 
 not that a good reason for a discreet alteration of mere 
 form, that may be consistent with the rational demands 
 of the age? And do you not see, my reverend brethren, 
 that this age is one essentially active — almost morbidly 
 active? To govern it, we must use it; — to counteract 
 it, and especially to act against it violently, is useless and 
 
116 
 
 injurious; unless indeed this moving and energetic body 
 invades our principles, and strives to uproot the tree of 
 life. Indeed, peace is more necessary to us than any 
 mere form, and particularly a form established by our 
 forefathers, which had relation peculiarly to their ne- 
 cessities." 
 
 I thought this manly argument, and a bold declaration. 
 This is giving principle its place, and form its place — 
 making religious observances have reference to their use- 
 fulness, and making principle have reference to God. 
 Be good enough to allow for my poor memory in these 
 quotations. I do not pretend to give the exact words ; 
 all I profess to do, is to convey to you something like the 
 spirit of his argument. It is thirty hours since I heard 
 him, and I took no notes. 
 
 This man looks the scholar and the gentleman ; and 
 has an easy and remarkably distinct utterance, more 
 clearly impressive, through simple words, than the richest 
 flowers of rhetoric, and every kind of impassioned action. 
 I was much charmed by a passage something like this: — 
 '* My reverend brethren, you will remember that we can 
 guide, and do greatly guide, the public mind in every 
 parish in the land. As mind, we act upon the peasant's 
 strength, and form the man in all his best qualities. Such 
 as the English peasant is, such mainly we have made 
 him ; for his mind is his essence, and we cultivate his 
 intelligence. What, then, shall we say of such responsi- 
 bility ? You may not be conscious of your power to its 
 full extent; but mind will always act upon every man 
 who comes within the power, and, in some measure, 
 according to the goodness and greatness of the master 
 spirit. He who said, " Ye are the salt of the earth/' knew 
 of what power he spoke, and was certain of the effect, for 
 you shall sweeten society." 
 
 This surely is the utterance of a true man, and the right 
 definition of the minister's duty. This makes the squab- 
 bles of the church now look ridiculous, and points to 
 better and greater objects. It is unhappy, though, to see 
 the humble proof, " in every parish of the land,'' of this 
 "salt of the earth." 
 
 I dined afterwards at our Manor -Court Dinner. 
 The " charge" of the chairman was something different ; 
 
117 
 
 but it acted genially, although upon a little more of 
 animal appetite. " Fit things in fit places," is not bad 
 logic, you know. I sat next to a brewer, " a man well to 
 do in the world," one of my fat build, and about the same 
 age. He ate of everything, and seemed at last full to 
 repletion. His business habits were too fixed to allow 
 him to talk much in his work; and T, like so many 
 quick-judging persons, thought him a little too fond of 
 his belly — at least, there seemed no room for sentiment. 
 One of the company sang, uncommonly well, one of 
 Burns' ballads; and, as the song proceeded, this man 
 moved in every muscle, as if the spirit was uneasy 
 within. At last he turned to me, and said, " I know no 
 more of a song, nor of a tune, than a donkey ; but such 
 things as these enchant me. I feel spell- bound and 
 excited at the same time ; I feel in the agony of what the 
 Wesleyans call the new birth." I suspect a good deal 
 of this religious agony may be traced to the same cause ; 
 but who would have thought to have seen this poetry, and 
 this logic, in the fat brewer ? 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 April 27, 1845. ; 
 The leading article in the "Times" of yesterday is 
 worthy of your attentive reading, — woman though you 
 be ; for you may address it to a lover, at least under a 
 little modification. It deals with principle, the principle 
 jf right determination, and puts the mere expediency (of 
 marriage) in its subservient place— making some press- 
 ing circumstance not a sufficient purchase for a life-long 
 enjoyment. 
 
 " The appropriation clause is the evil spirit that haunts the Treasury. 
 The spirits that flit over hidden wealth, and demand restitution for for- 
 gotten robberies, are a persevering class : but Mr. Ward surpasses them 
 all. His voice is the death-watch of cabinets. In the midst of the 
 storm, he suddenly looms upon the minister like a phantom ship. Yet, 
 though ever so unreal, he is not the less deadly. Peel has now seen 
 the apparition : the political ship bears a doomed man ; and the home 
 to which it carries him is become the fated scene of a thousand griefs 
 and an untimely end. If the member for Sheffield is more ominous 
 than prophetic, the member for Edinburgh takes care to interpret the 
 
i 
 
 118 
 
 augury ; — he supplies the articulation to the Banshee's melancholy 
 screech." 
 
 " Mr. Ward is the ' Death on a White Horse,' of the Ministerial Apoca- 
 lypse. His fell potency consists in the assertion of a principle, — that 
 principle the perpetual subdivision of existing religious property among 
 existing religious sects. People know that Church property has already 
 been re-appropriated ; that it has passed, by the act of the state, from 
 Catholic to Protestant hands ; and that recent acts imply the same 
 power." . . 
 
 a Our minister,' he adds, ( instils no principle, never indoctrinates. 
 Leaving others to form the mind of the age, it is his peculiar ambition 
 to be the Saviour of each crisis. Master spirits cut out the work : his 
 is the lower pride of subordinate ministration. Others a r e suggestive, 
 directive, creative ; but Peel is the great political operative." 
 
 Here is the picture of your man by a master painter, 
 one of your own seeming people. He, too, is imbued 
 with the same shifting and following doctrines; he is a 
 true modern Conservative, of the fashionable class, whose 
 eye-sight remains blinded until some imperative power 
 withdraws the bands of prejudice. They lead and are led 
 by turns, but always without much notion of pure princi- 
 ple. It is a graphic drawing nevertheless — this of the 
 Editor's — -and not the less useful because it reflects him- 
 self. More biting words never came from the mouth of 
 man. All is true, but the definition of the principle of Mr. 
 Ward's motion ; — that only recognizes the appropriation 
 of tithes and all church property for the good of the peo- 
 ple — for their spiritual wants, according to that people's 
 ideas of their spiritual wants. It recognises nothing like 
 a dividing of the spoil, but its true and original appropri- 
 ation, for which tithes were imposed — namely, for the 
 good of the people : and that cannot be good, which does 
 not act in goodly sort for the people. Poor Ireland ! 
 she is an unhappy country. 
 
 I am glad to hear your father intends a change of air; 
 tell him, above all things, to believe it will do him good. 
 One of our maid-servants, being poorly, consulted a 
 physician here, who gives advice gratis to the poor. 
 His great principle is, have faith ; everything depends 
 on that, he says. He did not describe to the maid what 
 it consisted in ; perhaps the faith is all the better for its 
 mystic sense : but here is a confession of the power of 
 physic ! 
 
119 
 
 Your friend's expectations from ber marriage, her 
 foundation for the home, is builded on the sands 5 her 
 hopes, her superstructure, is a vision, " thin air," doomed 
 to fall. No mortal man is capable of fulfilling it to any 
 woman. Marriage is not such an entirety ; no heart is 
 filled with one image for ever, perhaps not even for one 
 entire day. This affair has the stamp of all earthly 
 things, of which no one thing is near perfection. Per- 
 suade her at once to give up all poetic visions about the 
 connexion ; it is useful for both parties, nothing more. 
 
 It must be confessed, people do judge very variably 
 about marriage. I was recommending a young friend of 
 mine to a young man, as a most amiable girl, and every 
 way likely to be a good wife. He said, " Is she fat? I 
 love an arm-full." This would not fit in very well with 
 the poetic visions of your charming friend ! However, 
 soberly speaking, the one demand is as likely to be use- 
 ful as the other. 
 
 I have no great faith in Phrenology, perhaps no more 
 than you have. It cannot be any certain demonstration; 
 for if the germ be there, and remains uncultivated, what 
 can the bump demonstrate ? But I can believe it possible, 
 that there are various developments of the brain physic- 
 ally, and that there is an affinity between mental and phy- 
 sical development. A man with no bumps, well taught 
 however, will develope more remarkable points than the 
 finest series of bumps suffered to remain untaught. The 
 cranium does not keep expanding according to mental 
 growth. But that you should reject phrenology and 
 mesmerism, and cling to caligraphy — saying, the hand- 
 writing demonstrates a good deal of the man — this 
 appears surprising to me. I am glad you have been 
 comforted by Wade's sympathy in this belief ! 
 
 April 28. 
 P.S. — I should like to know that sensitive mortal, that 
 friend of yours, who would make claim not only to the 
 whole of her husband's actions, but to his thoughts also — 
 would be the concentred attraction of every impulse of 
 the man. I thought of her this morning in bed. I had 
 three small children with me from day-light, kicking me, 
 pulling my hair, jumping upon me, and every one had 
 
120 
 
 draggled tails. Is that the poetry of life, or the awakening 
 to the hard matter-of-fact duty of existence? I think I 
 could soon " take the shine out of her." She would soon 
 turn round, and give up the " concentered thought," so 
 that the man did his duties as a proper husband. 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 May 1, 1845. 
 Tell me if there is not much good sense in these ideas 
 of Irving' s : — 
 
 r " The solemn stillness which the soul should hold before her Maker 
 is destroyed at every turn by suggestion of what is orthodox and evan- 
 gelical ; the spirit of the reader becomes lean, being fed with abstract 
 truths and formal propositions ; his prayers even are undevout recitals 
 of his opinions ; his discourse is only a technical announcement of his 
 faith. . . Now, truly, an utter degradation it is of the Godhead to have 
 his word in league with that of any man, or any council of men. . . . 
 What matters it to me whether it be the Pope, or any work of the human 
 mind, that is exalted to the equality of God ? If any helps are to be 
 imposed for the understanding, why not the helps of statues and pictures 
 for my devotion % While the warm Southerns have given their idolatry 
 to the ideal forms of noble art, let us Northerns beware we give not 
 our idolatry to the cold and coarse abstractions of human intellect." 
 
 Speaking of the clergy, he says, 
 
 ' " The natural powers of man are to be mistrusted as being likely to 
 be misled ; but they must be honoured also, as the necessary instruments 
 of the Spirit of God, whose operation is a dream, if it be not through 
 knowledge, intellect, conscience, and action. Nor will they ever be- 
 come the master and commanding spirits of the time, until they cast 
 off the wrinkled and withered skin of an obsolete age, and clothe them- 
 selves with intelligence as with a garment, and bring forth the fruits of 
 love, and of power, and of a sound mind." 
 
 Well may it be said by Macaulay (see this day's 
 Times), " That Ireland has been the destruction of all 
 our ministers of state." .Truly, they are a difficult 
 people ; and true it is, they seem to spurn our small acts 
 of conciliation. True it is, they have brought Sir 
 Robert into a dilemma. Their priesthood are at least 
 a set of keen politicians, working boldly with no very 
 powerful means of offensive warfare, but by the patient 
 
121 
 
 courage of endurance. Sir Robert's saying, "We shall 
 hereby split and divide them/' is not only not true, but 
 a most awkward expression, and a summons to every 
 disturbed spirit to range round their agitator with ten 
 times more obduracy. Their hopes of success are raised 
 thereby, but not in the way the minister would desire. 
 " John Tuam" is exalted ; and it is now more manifest 
 that the thieving church must disgorge, and give back 
 in total, the funds levied for the people's welfare. 
 
 If America should take advantage of this division of 
 ourselves, and France too should join, —what then ? You 
 would disgorge, for convenience ! "Think of that, Master 
 Brook ! " 
 
 But why don't you turn him out — this enemy of 
 your's ? Have you not one leading spirit among you — 
 no one capable of directing your power ? What a 
 phalanx of animal power you are ! but of the power of 
 the mind, what are you ? Lo ! this is the exhibition of 
 your working power, your superior business ways to the 
 Whigs, who cannot act — "whose theory is good indeed, 
 but whose practice is inconvenient and futile!" You are, 
 verily, a clever people ! 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 May 5, 1845. 
 
 So now, the flood rises — the battle front lowers ! 
 Thoughtful men begin to see " bit by bit reforms" are 
 useless. Ireland must either be an integral part of the 
 nation, or a conquered province — kept under by force, 
 and kept as a thorn in our side, or made one with us, in 
 equal rights for all things. We are rapidly coming to 
 a pass now j and Ireland waits, " like the crouching pard," 
 to see her prey in the strait before she springs. She is 
 ready, almost to a man, and yet has patience to bide her 
 time. "Jonathan" is calculating; France is calculating ; 
 and Russia is looking with- willing and watchful eye 
 over Asia, questioning "the likelihood" of India; and 
 every other continental state would rejoice to see our 
 power humbled, our great moral and political power 
 brought to the dust. 
 
 Our proper policy would be, to give up the Irish 
 
122 
 
 church, to give back the means to her proper national 
 church ; to give her people like political power ; to 
 make one undivided people of the United Kingdom. 
 How much longer shall we treat her as an alien? 
 
 How much effect lies in mere words — what a power 
 they have to concentre man's doings ! These words of 
 Peel's, " This will gratify Ireland, will divide her moral 
 bond, and strengthen our position before the world." 
 To these words, is not the natural answer, the natural 
 Irish answer, " Then keep close, refuse the sop ; here 
 our strength lies, according to England." 
 
 That " heavy blow and great discouragement " of 
 Melbourne's had great power; that " alien people" of 
 Lyndhurst's had great power ; that " delusion and a 
 snare " of Denman's, also, had great power. But now, 
 to make a climax of hindrance and difficulty, the prophet 
 that was brought to curse has remained to bless the 
 hosts of Ireland, by confession of our weakness and of 
 our need. 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 May 8, 1845. 
 What a feast your " morbid anxiety " would have in 
 reading " The Curiosities of Medical Experience." By 
 the bye, have you read " The Diary of a Physician ? " I 
 shall begin to think you are much like Dr. Wallerstein, 
 who said — 
 
 " My misfortune is, that I never exist in the world, but rather in pos- 
 sible combinations created by my imagination to my conscience ; my 
 reason has not the power to banish them. My malady, in fact, is the 
 faculty of extracting poison from every circumstance of life— to such 
 excess indeed as to suffer the most trivial causes to make me 
 wretched." 
 
 He adds afterwards, speaking of its imperative power, 
 — calling it constitutional, instead of habitual — wherein 
 perhaps lies his mistake — 
 
 " I do not blush at what might be called my superstition, any more 
 than I should blush in" acknowledging that my senses inform me that 
 the Earth does not move." 
 
 This is acknowledging the morbid habit in the clearest 
 manner, I think. 
 
123 
 
 But what a singular confession is this— - 
 
 " I am afraid I shall become all thought, and no feeling. When 1 
 am ill, thought assumes a corporeal form ; I can think of nothing with- 
 out bringing it home to myself, and suffer as I should from the fact done 
 upon my body." 
 
 You are a creature verging towards this sensitive 
 vagary — too little watchful of what is fact, and what is 
 fancy. No misery is equal to the misery of a fancied 
 grief. Once get a strong fancy of some evil, and no 
 devil is half so horrible, so persecuting, and so inveterate. 
 Whenever I have imagined the consequences of some 
 loss or misfortune, in no one instance have I not over- 
 calculated the positive result. Only keep a stout heart, a 
 dependence upon the providence of God, and nothing 
 can overpower you. There is always a way of escape 
 or success, to those who are faithful to themselves. 
 
 I have sometimes told you, with some levity, of the 
 chances of my going out of my mind. I now understand 
 the sensations better, from this man's picture. When I 
 am about to sleep, I am all imagination. I feel awake, I 
 can see and hear even perfectly well; but I seem no 
 longer my proper self, but another being, of other hopes 
 and fears. In those few minutes I live hours, and days 
 even, calculating by the action of my imaginative powers 
 — just as your Uncle John has described his lengthened 
 sensations when drowning. However, when wide awake, 
 I have no particular bugbear — no " coffined body," no 
 Giaour to haunt me. 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 May 11,1845. i 
 I have finished reading the " Curiosities of Medical 
 Experience." I think it is the sketch of some designed 
 work on psychology and physiology, which, after accu- 
 mulating various facts and anecdotes to illustrate the 
 work, he had not the courage and industry to undertake. 
 It seems disconnected, and a mere copy of memoranda ? 
 evidently made up through a long course of reading 
 and experience. Perhaps I fancy something more of 
 this than I am justified in doing j however, it is by no 
 
124 
 
 means an uncommon case. Authors are very loth to 
 make a wreck of foregone labour, and therefore we see 
 so many " Fragments/' " Sketches/' " Memoires pour 
 servir a l'Histoire," &c, given to the world. Of this 
 work, you can see hardly two lines in a page belonging 
 to Dr. Millingen. 
 
 He has made a good selection of opinions upon 
 dreams : — 
 
 " Cabanus says, ' The eye-lids first sleep, then the legs and arms, 
 then the muscles, then the five senses. The viscera fall asleep one after 
 another, &c. When dreaming, the mind is in an abstracted state, but 
 still its reciprocal influence over the body is manifest, although it is 
 powerless on volition.' Locke says, i Dreams are made up of the 
 waking man's ideas, although oddly put together.' Dugald Stewart 
 accounts for the phenomenon of dreams by saying, that 'in sleep the 
 operations of the mind are suspended, — there is the loss of the power 
 of the will over the mind.' In my opinion (Millingen says) it is the 
 suspension of the powers of the understanding — attention, comparison, 
 memory, and judgment." 
 
 And may it not be said, that this last is also the true 
 definition of lunacy in the waking man ? 
 
 We had a "confirmation" here on Friday, and I had 
 to attend upon this prince in the church, the Bishop of 
 Winchester. I can conceive that this ceremony was very 
 useful in the early times of the Church, at least as a 
 sheepfold; but of its spiritual benefit I know nothing, 
 and indeed doubt the fact of the alteration it professes, 
 viz. to remove the responsibility from the godfathers, and 
 place it upon the confirmed. This ceremony appears a 
 mere presumption of the church — something they have 
 very little, if any, authority for. What an odd thing it 
 seems to me, that our curate here will not allow a 
 parent to be the sponsor for the religious education of 
 his child, but enforces that the responsibility should be 
 placed upon a person (he knows very well) who will 
 take no trouble about it. " Oh, but," he says, " that is 
 their fault — my duty is to comply with the Church 
 ordinance." Tis pity, though, the Church should suffer 
 the people to lead it always into common sense. 
 
 To-day we have had the Athanasian Creed read 
 throughout the land, to edify the people, and to warn 
 them, " Whosoever will be saved, it is necessary to 
 
125 
 
 believe aright" — what ? — an impossibility for the mind of 
 man. Our curate explained further, in the sermon, that 
 the Holy Ghost was not an influence, a principle, but a 
 Being, a Person — feeling, seeing, and acting. And then 
 the climax is, that these three persons are one person 
 —complete separately, but always one. And where is 
 the authority for this ? In the Bible ? No ; it is one of 
 the decisions of the councils of old Church. 
 
 I went to St. Paul's on Thursday, and was greatly 
 delighted by the service for the benefit of the Sons of the 
 Clergy. I missed the usual instrumental music : however, 
 the singing was excellent, and perhaps more effective, 
 as singing, than if there had been more accompaniment. 
 What a solemn power the organ has there ! the reverbera- 
 tion (echo, in fact) is very beautiful, like the answering 
 spirits of angels. 
 
 There was room for many more in the chancel, where 
 I was— for a hundred more; but the doorkeeper, being a 
 clergyman of St. Paul's, could not consent to take the 
 half-crowns, although he had exhausted the half- 
 sovereigns — you must give gold to obtain a seat near the 
 chancel. It is a mercy they have not the power to sell 
 seats in heaven, as of old ; I suppose it is not quite clear 
 they have the keys of the door in their hands. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 May 12, 1845. I 
 In Millingen's ce Book of Medical Experience," it is 
 recommended that people should flog themselves to cul- 
 tivate fat. He says, " It draws the circulation from the 
 centre of the system to its periphery. It excites the action 
 of the bowels, and cures cutaneous eruptions." As you 
 are thin, I recommend it to you. However, do it pro- 
 perly ; for he adds, " Upper flagellation for men, and 
 lower flagellation for women ; and, to be effective, it must 
 be applied in a state of nudity." Pray try it, and report 
 progress. 
 
 Millingen gives an anecdote, belonging to Henry III. 
 of France. When this flagellation was fashionable, if not 
 for making fat, at least for expelling sins, Clopinel, the 
 poet, wrote a pasquinade against the ladies of the court, 
 
 G 
 
126 
 
 for which he was condemned to many lashes, to be ap- 
 plied by the ladies. Hear the sin : — 
 
 " Toutes etes, serez, ou futes, 
 De fait ou de volonte, putes ; 
 Et qui bien vous chercheroient 
 Toutes putes vous trouveroient 1" 
 
 His wit saved him ; by exclaiming, and imploring the 
 beauteous group, that the first blow should be struck by 
 the honourable damsel who felt herself the most ag- 
 grieved : — not a blow was inflicted ! 
 
 I have forgotten to tell you, that I saw a very beautiful 
 girl in the Cathedral, so like a friend of our's. She was 
 rather larger, more healthy in appearance, and of a beau- 
 tiful frame. I could only see her profile for some time. 
 Her face was rather fat, her hair of a bright dark brown, 
 and her eyes deep set, so expressive of deep feeling. 
 She turned round after a time, and exhibited a fine cross- 
 eye, and, because I was so much prejudiced in her favour, 
 I thought it attractive! Her blood became eloquent 
 under my admiration, and she appeared either surprised 
 at my impertinence, or else pleased with my diffident at- 
 tention. Is any woman insensible to the modest admira- 
 tion of a man ? 
 
 I pointed her out to my wife's sisters, but they thought 
 my taste a bad one. What a nose she had ! large, sharp 
 rather, and turned up a little. What a mouth too ! open- 
 ing freely, and full of fine teeth, guarded by coral lips. 
 I am afraid you, also, will not like my taste for large 
 features in a woman : I dislike a delicate and indefinite 
 set of features. 
 
 It is legitimate for a man to admire a beautiful statue, 
 even a fine animal ; but if we admire a lovely woman 
 — being married — oh ! what a sin ! You women always 
 think of ultimates — push principles to extremes ! She 
 had long flowing hair, that hung in curls within her 
 somewhat open bosom, where it undulated like green 
 weeds upon the sea; perhaps, however, the accompani- 
 ment helped a good deal this imagining, for the begin- 
 ning of the Coronation Anthem had the peculiar measure 
 or time of breathing, and seemed in nice unison with 
 the whole affair. 
 
127 
 
 What say you? Do I go to such places to look after 
 the girls? Certainly not ; and remember, it was a show- 
 day, a sort of pay-day for mother Church and her off- 
 spring. 
 
 By the bye, I should like to know what it is that at- 
 tracts women, in man. One would think that it cannot 
 be the personal appearance, and yet you seem rarely to 
 ask for intelligence, nor indeed say much about probity 
 and generosity — then what is it ? Is it the simple devo- 
 tion, the warm and pressing prayer, and the loving to 
 be loved — are these the things you honour ? 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 May 13, 1845. 
 
 In Millingen's book there is a clever article on Animal 
 Magnetism; not that it substantiates any doctrine, but 
 it is full of suggestive thought — inclines the mind to be- 
 lieve in many things not open to the scrutiny of man's 
 intellectual power, and that really appear contrary to his 
 reason. It is these few staggering facts that operate so 
 greatly upon the general mind, and cause the door of 
 faith to be flung wide open, and so admit all comers. 
 
 I don't know that I have seen a better support of mi- 
 raculous cure. Egypt was the first seat of this practice, 
 as of all other extraordinary things. Her priests dealt 
 in this power of curing diseases, and so did the Druids, 
 who were, as I think, followers of the Egyptian doctrines 
 — at least, of their practices. 
 
 You are a disbeliever in this ancient dogma, and de- 
 nounce it boldly. But all new science must be submitted 
 to persecution, and this is a new science in England. 
 This persecution is one of those anomalous things that are 
 evil in every single deed, but act well for the great 
 result, like a test in chemistry for common things : no 
 information dies in consequence, 
 
 " Magnetism may be defined a reciprocal influence which is supposed 
 to exist between individuals, arising from a state of relative harmony, and 
 brought into action by the will, the imagination, or physical sensibility. 
 It is a fluid transmissible from one body to another, under certain condi- 
 tions, having harmony between them. The ancients fully admitted the 
 G.2 
 
128 
 
 power of sympathy in the cure of diseases ; but generally attributed its 
 action to the interference of the Divinity, or the operation of sorcery and 
 enchantment. A remarkable affinity can be traced between modern 
 magnetism and its supposed phenomena, and the relations of the Pythian 
 and Sybilline Oracles, the wonders of the Caverns of Trophonius and 
 Esculapius, and the miraculous dreams and visions in the temples of the 
 Gods. The same divine assistance was firmly believed in by the 
 Hebrews, and was denounced in Deuteronomy as the abomination of 
 the idolaters — c the lying wonders, and the dreamers of dreams of the 
 false prophets.' 
 
 K Sound philosophy can only attribute its wonderful phenomena, many 
 of which cannot be denied, to the all-powerful deceptive agency of faith. 
 The fact of cure is incontrovertible ; but the way of cure is the open 
 question. Enlightened physicians of France and Germany have 
 examined into its professions and experience; and they all frankly 
 confess the study to be useful, and that it is likely, in wise hands, to 
 be made useful to medical knowledge. If, say several, the magnetic 
 phenomena appear extraordinary, the phenomena of electricity appeared 
 equally marvellous in its origin." 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 May 15, 1845. 
 
 Many times I have seen favourable notices of Coleridge, 
 and I have sometimes attempted to read his works, but 
 I have to confess they have been generally above my 
 comprehension. The " Table Talk " is a pleasant book 
 to read, and easy to comprehend, at least comparatively. 
 Yesterday I brought home " The Friend," and sat down 
 with determination to be patient, and careful to gather the 
 sense ; I find a great deal of useful, and indeed most 
 valuable information in the book. 
 
 " My object," he says, in the Preface, " is to refer 
 man's opinions to their absolute principles, and thence 
 their feelings to the appropriate objects, and in their due 
 degrees ; and, finally, to apply the principles thus ascer- 
 tained to the formation of stedfast convictions concerning 
 the most important questions of politics, morality, and 
 religion; — these are to be the objects of the contents of 
 the work." 
 
 A large field this for a periodical ; and though the 
 intention was framed too early for man's progress for 
 such a bookj yet it is expressive of what we are veering 
 
129 
 
 towards — what even the multitude of readers are seek- 
 ing for. He says, " The attention of the reader will be 
 requisite — his thoughtful attention. On whatever sub- 
 ject the mind feels a lively interest, attention (though 
 always an effort) becomes a delightful effort." But 
 hear this, ye thoughtless for good things, " I should be 
 quite at ease, could I procure for the whole work as much 
 of it as a card-party of earnest whist-players often expend 
 in a single evening, or a lady in the making-up of a 
 fashionable dress." And then be adds, " It cannot but 
 be injurious to the human mind never to be called into 
 effort: the habit of receiving pleasure without any exer- 
 tion of thought, by the mere excitement of curiosity and 
 sensibility, may be justly ranked among the worst effects 
 of habitual novel-reading. Like all morning visitors, 
 the brisk periods of study — such study as it is — hurry in 
 and hurry off in profitless succession. It prevents 
 vacancy, but it encourages sloth." 
 
 If this does not sting me, at least I feel some contrition 
 on reading as follows, upon hasty judgment : " Few 
 readers charge themselves with lack of intellect, when 
 the effect may be as easily accounted for by declaring the 
 author unintelligible. In another way : ' Aye ! ' quoth 
 the delighted reader, ' this is sense, this is genius, this I 
 understand and admire ; I have thought the very same 
 a hundred times myself! * In other words, \ This man 
 has reminded me of my own cleverness, and therefore I 
 admire him !' " 
 
 I would recommend you to read this work, but slowly 
 and with intervals. It requires great abstraction. 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 Sandgate, May 17, 1845. ' 
 I have been at such hard work this visit here, as to 
 have put out all my sentiment ; but, because this evening 
 I don't know what to do, I may as well scribble a few 
 lines into Dorset. I have just had a run out yonder 
 among my old friends the sheep, but they seem careless 
 of chatting with me this journey. Poor things ! they 
 have sad draggled tails, for the young grass is too ape- 
 
130 
 
 rieni — they waddle awkwardly. In such a case one feels 
 disturbed — not in good order for philosophic talk, com- 
 paring and judging of relative position, &c, &c. 
 
 I miss my old friend here also : we cannot quarrel 
 with Ann the waiter ; and there is some relief in fun of 
 that sort. Last journey he said to her, " Ann, why don't 
 you bring more water in, to bathe the cups — are you short 
 of water, Ann?" When she had gone, he said signifi- 
 cantly, " Dirty fingers you know ; they always put their 
 fingers into the cups; never take hold of the handles, 
 they think them made for ornament. Always wipe your 
 wine glasses too : the foot of the glass they think is made 
 to make it stand upright only, they shove their fingers 
 down into the middle of the glass — just where they 
 know you must lick it off." And when I laugh, he says, 
 " Oh, you have a lot of children ; I suppose you are 
 used to it — perhaps it is matter of fancy; very likely!" 
 
 "Ann," said he at night, "warm me a blanket— make 
 it hot." " Oh !" said the willing maid, " I'll warm your 
 bed, sir." "Nonsense, Ann, I want it to cuddle — never 
 mind wherefore." " La, sir ! said she, " dear me, sir ! " 
 " What do you mean ? — do you want to cuddle me V he 
 added quickly, in tones to win, but frowning like a 
 demon. . The poor girl nearly fell down with suppressed 
 laughter. They all like him here : his " humour " is not 
 ill-natured, but pure irritable fibre. 
 
 Pray, is there anything like a railroad designed to visit 
 Dorsetshire? or, are you to remain isolated, shut out, 
 hedged in, like the sheep here ? . There is a revolution 
 going on in men's minds now; the new fact, of matter 
 acting strongly upon spirit ; wheel power directing men's 
 thoughts and calculations. Locomotion seems to set in 
 order the energy of men's actions — makes the daudle 
 active, and the loiterer quick and busy. With the im- 
 proved value of time so manifest to their eyes — seeing 
 what can be done by the best application of man's ability, 
 they also begin to calculate upon minutes, and advantages 
 in odd hours, and really so improve themselves. A rail- 
 way, a passing carriage upon a railway, is a new teacher 
 in the world, that no man can see and hear without some 
 new idea entering his head. 
 
131 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 ! May 19 1845. 
 
 I thank you for your letter on the education of 
 girls. Your ideas are very like my own, so far as 
 regards the education of the mind and judgment, instead 
 of the external accomplishments of the body. I want the 
 true woman's character brought out, or stamped deep 
 within : I care much less for polish of all kinds. 
 
 At all events, you were a cheat at school, if your con* 
 fession is the very truth. As a boy, I was a great 
 contrast to you. You did gather a good deal some way 
 or another, though your plan seemed fitful. I learned 
 very little at school, was taught very little ; but I re- 
 member, I was anxious to learn and to understand what 
 was presented to me, and wept bitterly when I failed, 
 which I did very often, by reason of a miserable memory. 
 My master's plan was to turn me out of the school door, 
 saying, " Go home — I won't teach you any more ; " and 
 there did I stand, pleading broken-hearted for re-admis- 
 sion, with a sincerity that would become a sinner at the 
 gate of Paradise, or Brougham at the door of office, as 
 Punch has him. I declare to you, our charity boys are 
 better educated — know more than I knew when I left 
 school; and I think I was as cleverly "fitted" as any 
 boy in that school. 
 
 " Think of your happy school days ! " Why, do you 
 also make the foolish mistake of supposing children's 
 troubles a light matter — do not as much fill the heart 
 with grief as any adult's troubles? Everything is 
 relative ; and it is a most unfair view of another's grief, 
 that it is less than yours, and therefore less a trouble to 
 the sufferer . I never suffered greater misery than when 
 at school, and have not the least desire to begin life 
 again, unless indeed I may carry to the starting point 
 my present experience of life. 
 
 I am, like you, too much of a wanderer when at church. 
 While distinctly hearing the prayers, and particularly 
 the beautiful but monotonous litany, there is kept up 
 involuntarily another chain of thought, even more 
 regular and logical at times than I can appropriate on 
 
132 
 
 fit occasion. Why is this ? To call it wilful sin, or even 
 to say it exhibits the natural depravity of the heart, is 
 almost foolish. It is the effect of the continuity of like 
 sounds and words, day by day, that are registered and 
 seem to require no thought. I hear the clergyman with 
 much greater attention in the lessons, though the words 
 and ideas of the latter are no more to be compared to the 
 former than moon-shine to sun-light. Our prayers are 
 beautiful, and full of solemn appeals, and so plainly 
 presented to the comprehension of man, as to be en- 
 phanting to his intelligence, and a solemn guide to his 
 devotion. But no mortal can repeat words for ever 
 without losing the sense of what he says, at least one 
 half of his time ; and this is true, though an angel spoke 
 the words before his face continually. 
 
 The day of uniformity is dying, and man asks, loudly 
 or lowly, for progress and variety. If we cannot satisfy 
 this spirit, this uneasy spirit, with good and new matter, 
 then it will take up the semblance of good ; and if that 
 is not to be found, then whither will it go ? The great 
 injury done to the Catholic Church is through her 
 profession of infallibility, and her antipathy to change. 
 Even a poor illiterate Dissenting minister, if such there 
 be, will create a greater impression, will move deeper 
 the devotion of even a thoughtful mind, than all the 
 majesty of tlie Church's service, continued daily upon 
 the senses of its people. 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 May 23, 1845. 
 
 " c Censures, offered in friendliness, we ought to receive with gratitude. 
 But if the infirmity of human nature cannot, even when we have been 
 fairly convicted of error,, but 'suffer some mortification, yet, better suffer 
 pain from its extirpation, than from the consequences of its continuance. 
 Upbraiding enemies are often more profitable to us than friends afraid 
 to find fault; for the former will often amend us, while the latter, from 
 an over-delicate apprehension of ruffling the smooth surface of friendship, 
 shrink from its duties, and from the manly freedom which truth and 
 justice demand.' So spoke old Augustin some 1400 years ago : and I 
 lowly supplicate you, in his name and words, for this measure of help 
 in my necessity." 
 
133 
 
 These words are the motto to one of Coleridge's Essays 
 upon "Religious Inquiry," and, among other comments, 
 he says — 
 
 " If the honest warmth, which results from the strength of the particu- 
 lar conviction, be tempered by the modesty which belongs to the sense 
 of general fallibility,— if the emotions which accompany all vivid percep- 
 tions, are preserved distinct from the expression of personal passions, — 
 if the reason asks no respect for the opinion, as his opinion, but only 
 in proportion as it is acknowledged by that reason which is common to 
 all men,— then, every human being is authorized to make public the 
 grounds of any opinion which he holds, and, of course, the opinion itself 
 as the object of them." 
 
 And he adds — 
 
 " If a man be angry with this free expression, he is angry not at the 
 truth, but at the disturbance of his indolence, his intellectual slumber ; 
 or, he has no love of truth for its own sake— no reverence for the divine 
 command to seek earnestly after it— no moral and religious awe for 
 freedom of thought, though accompanied by sincerity and humility." 
 
 And elucidating farther this freedom upon religious 
 subjects, he quotes these words of Milton : — 
 
 w The superstitious man is almost an atheist ; but, being scared by the 
 pangs of a frightened conscience, he shuffles up to himself such a god and 
 such a worship as are most agreeable to remedy his fear ; and so all the 
 inward acts of worship issuing from the native strength of his soul, run 
 out lavishly to the upper skin, and there harden into a crust of for- 
 mality. Hence man came to scan the Scriptures by the letter ; and, 
 in the covenant of our redemption, to magnify the external signs, more 
 than the quickening power of the Spirit." 
 
 " Such men," Coleridge says, 
 
 " Would do well to re-peruse the book of Job, and observe the sen- 
 tence passed on the friends of the sufferer, who had hoped, like venal 
 advocates, to purchase the favour of God by uttering truths, of which 
 in their own hearts they had neither the conviction nor comprehension ; 
 while the rashness of agony in the searching and bewildered com- 
 plainant was forgiven, in consideration of his sincerity and integrity in 
 not disguising the true dictates of his conscience and reason, but avow- 
 ing his incapability of solving a problem, which the Almighty had 
 declared to be beyond the limits of human reason." 
 
 This is well put, and a comfort to the true heart who 
 seeks to support his piety through his reason and con- 
 g 5 
 
134 
 
 science. And in speaking of man's part for the great 
 work, he says — 
 
 " There can be no end without means ; and God furnishes us with 
 no means that exempt us from the task and duty of joining our best 
 endeavours. The original stock, or wild olive-tree of our natural powers, 
 was not given us to be burnt or blighted, but to be grafted upon. We 
 are not only not forbidden to examine and propose our doubts, so it 
 be done with humility, and really proceed from a desire to know the 
 truth, but we are repeatedly commanded so to do ; and with a most 
 unchristian spirit must that man have read the preceding pages, if he 
 can interpret any one sentence as having for its object to excuse a too 
 numerous class, who examine, not to find reasons for faith, but pretexts 
 for infidelity." 
 
 And then, to guard equally against the pride of station, 
 the pride of reading, in those who feel commissioned to 
 teach the word, he quotes this fine passage from Jeremy 
 Taylor :— 
 
 " This is one of the inseparable characteristics of a Dissenter, — he sets 
 his whole communion, and all his charity, upon his creed ; for to be 
 zealous "in the schism, that is his characteristic of a good man, — that is 
 his note of Christianity : in all the rest he excuses you or tolerates 
 you, provided you be a true believer, — then you are one of the faithful, 
 you are of the congregation of the saints, one of the godly. Rome is 
 a remarkable instance of this ; for though in words she proclaims the 
 possibility of keeping all the commandments, yet she dispenses easier 
 with him that breaks them all, than with him that speaks one word 
 against any of her articles, though but the least. So that it is faith they 
 regard more than charity— a right belief more than a holy life. This 
 answers their particular purpose ; for, if you dispute, say they, you may 
 gain one and lose five ; but if you threaten with damnation, you keep 
 them in fetters ; for, as saith the Apostle, ' They that are in fear of death 
 are all their life-time in bondage.' The easy Protestant, on the con- 
 trary, calls upon you, from Scripture, to do your duty — to build a holy 
 life upon a holy faith. He knows, that God's judgments are righteous 
 and true ; but he knows also, that His mercy absolves many persons, 
 who in His just judgments were condemned ; he remembers that every 
 repentance, if it be sincere, will do more, and prevail more, and last 
 longer, than God's anger will. He sees, that in all religions opinions 
 differ ; and since opinions are too often begot by passion, by passion and 
 violence they are kept ; for man will call God in to their party, and His 
 judgments are used for arguments, and the threatenings of the Scripture 
 are snatched up in haste, and men throw arrows and fire-brands and 
 death ; and then the world becomes an uproar." 
 
135 
 
 Good,. Jeremy Taylor! this is that religion which 
 says, " By this shall all men know that ye are my dis- 
 ciples, — that ye love one another." 
 
 Coleridge says, " This passage of Taylor's is one of the 
 most eloquent in all our writings." Its simplicity gives 
 wonderful clearness to the thought, so that the dullest 
 faculty cannot fail to understand the sense. I often 
 wish Coleridge himself had copied something of this 
 clearness ; for there is no necessity to dress the deepest 
 knowledge, the profoundest reasoning, in a subtle scho- 
 lastic form. This is one of the great sins of our present 
 learned men, and the Germans seem to carry this em- 
 bellishment, if it may be so called, into absurdity. 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 May 24, 1845. 
 I have just been reading the Times of yesterday — the 
 " leader " upon the division on the Maynooth Grant ; 
 and, as you belong to the " sweet singers " who can be 
 taught a new tune " for a consideration," I beg to con- 
 gratulate you on the warm praises of this " professor of 
 political song." 
 
 " The division of yesterday yields, on analysis, some remarkable 
 results. Its Liberal contingent far exceeds the Conservative ; the former 
 being 1G9, the latter 150. It is therefore a Whig majority, and, so far, 
 its leaders are Whig leaders, and Sir Robert a Whis: premier. He has 
 150 Conservatives for his measure, and 152 against it : the Conservatives 
 therefore have been beaten. As the House is now exactly divided 
 against itself, it is evident it must fall ! It is worth while considering, 
 whether much trouble and expense would not be saved, and much un- 
 pleasantness avoided, if the Conservatives would pair off for good, and 
 leave the stage for Sir Robert and the Whigs ! The Conservative is a 
 dead weight on the system. (! !) 
 
 " The disposition their leader has made of them resembles the mode 
 in which foreign carters dispose their horses in going down hill — three 
 before and three behind. The spectacle is picturesque, though the 
 efforts of the three retrogressive horses are somewhat painfully ridiculous. 
 Such is Sir Robert's position : — drawn by 1 50, dragged by 150. So he 
 descends the downward course of Whiggery and human affairs ! " 
 
 I never read a finer bit of political satire : it is all the 
 more cutting because he dislikes the man, and still 
 
136 
 
 desires to provoke your indignation to act against the 
 Whigs. It is not meant as praise to the Whigs, but the 
 Whigs will not enjoy it the less. But then he must 
 needs put words into the mouth of the minister, making 
 him say (which he does say, but by implication), " I am 
 proud of your support, but you must do as I bid you ; 
 less than that from you, is a vile tenure : " for, he 
 might have added, I am your carter. 
 
 But this wicked Editor still goes on, and says — 
 
 M Why did he not impart to his friends a portion of his prescience ? 
 Why not make them partners in the game of Concession ? On the con- 
 trary, they were the only people in the world whom he failed to enlighten. 
 To be in the confidence of Sir Robert, was only another term for utter 
 political ignorance. Under his shadow men knew nothing. He eclipsed 
 futurity. When men tried to discover the signs of the times, Peel stood 
 in their light, and said, ' Look no further ; I am the thing that is to 
 come.' " 
 
 Oh, poor party ! so to be dragged and yoked I and 
 driven whither ? right into the middle of the enemy, to 
 do battle for them. 
 
 If your patience be not tired, if your indignation be not 
 too ebullient, do let me persuade you to read the follow- 
 ing French sketch of your main party — of the men who 
 make up seven-eighths of your physical power : — 
 
 " I know nothing less calm, less tranquil, less the friend of repose, 
 than an agriculturist. A mechanic is a peaceful man ; he works hard, 
 and sings merrily. The former, on the contrary, is a Vesuvius, ever in 
 eruption. He has always somebody or something to abuse : now it is 
 the rain, and now the sun. What another sells, is always too dear ; and 
 what he sells, is always too cheap. I shall end my days by believing 
 that wheat and barley infect men with hydrophobia. 
 
 " If a man becomes in any way connected with the land, he grows 
 instantly fierce and monomaniac. The butcher, who lives up to his 
 elbows in blood, has a jolly face and a smile of goodness : the labourer 
 upon the land is sombre, morose, and taciturn— a man who never laughs. 
 If we were to say, the mistakes of Agriculture are crimes, she would tilt 
 us with pitchforks. She has, besides, always tried to hamper all advance 
 of science, of knowledge, even for her own benefit. At the first, tobacco 
 was poison, coffee was poison, potatoes were poison. She is always 
 grumbling. 
 
 " If the King of the French were to go yearly and sow the plains of 
 St. Denis, after the Chinese fashion, Agriculture would still find out that 
 honours enough were not paid to her." 
 
137 
 
 Well done, " Charivari ! "—well done, French Punch 
 This is true the world over. 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 May 25, 1845. ' 
 Last evening I began Dr. Geddes' Translation of the 
 Bible, and have been much pleased with the preface to 
 the first volume. He was a learned man — a great 
 reader, and an excellent scholar. He seems also clever 
 enough to know, that these facts must be acknowledged 
 by the world, to make his great understanding useful to 
 the world, to himself, and to the printer. His critical 
 knowledge therefore is elaborately displayed, and almost 
 importunately claimed. 
 
 Of the Pentateuch he says — 
 
 " It is the highest effort of Hebrew genius ; and has always been held 
 as such by all learned men of every age. Nor is this wonderful; for, the 
 idea of Divine inspiration being left out of the question, these books 
 must be allowed by competent judges to be an admirable composition. 
 They will compare indeed, and favourably, with the best narratives of 
 Herodotus and Livy, the laboured harangues of Thucydides and Sallust, 
 the sublime odes of Pindar, and with the ' Republics ' of Plato and 
 Tully." 
 
 This passage is striking : — 
 
 " There always has been a question between learned Jews, and carried 
 down indeed through the first three or four centuries of Christianity, — 
 4 Whether the account of the creation was a literal fact, or an allegory \ '! 
 Philo, who wrote about 250 years before Christ, says, ' The Garden of 
 Eden was the wisdom of God given to man, the disposition to virtue 
 planted in the human soul. The goodly trees planted there, are the 
 duties of life : the four streams are the cardinal virtues, Prudence, 
 Temperance, Fortitude, Justice. Man is desired to cut off the fruit, 
 because he must practise all the virtues. He is forbidden to taste of the 
 tree of good and evil, because he must not abandon himself to vice, the 
 evil of which is only known by its opposition to virtue.' " 
 
 Tn another way — 
 
 " Adam is the intellectual part of man, Eve the sensual. The serpent 
 is the lure of unlawful pleasure ; which, by first winning over the sensual 
 part, drags the intellect after it. The curse of crawling on the ground, 
 is wallowing in sensuality, is feeding alone upon vanities; and the 
 enmity between the woman and the serpent, is the incompatibility of 
 
138 
 
 vicious voluptuousness with genuine sensual pleasure : the subordina- 
 tion of the woman, is the subjection of the sensual part to the intellec- 
 tual part. So, now, when the intellectual man gives way to sensual 
 wrong, his carnal appetites are reprehensible and accursed — produce 
 nothing but thorns and thistles, of pungent remorse and troublesome 
 uneasiness all the days of his life." 
 
 This at least, if riot true, is drawing a useful moral 
 from the story. If you think it severe against your sex, 
 remember the date — two thousand years ago, when ladies 
 did not know much of what men wrote about them. 
 
 Dr. Geddes says — 
 
 " This allegorical manner of explaining the fall by this ancient inter- 
 preter, appeared so ingenious and satisfactory to the Christian Fathers, 
 that, with some little variations, they generally adopted it. It was 
 adopted by Papias, Pantsenus, Ireneeus, Clement, Origen, Gregory, and 
 he of Nazianzen, and by Ambrose. Epiphanius and Jerome disputed it. 
 Austin said, there were three prevailing opinions — those who believed 
 the literal sense, those who maintained the spiritual sense, and those who 
 admitted both ; to which latter he willingly gives his assent, and which 
 his authority contributed not a little to establish almost exclusively 
 among the Western churches." 
 
 At the risk of tiring you, I copy the following sensible 
 remarks on the theology of Moses : — 
 
 " As to the ritual part of the Hebrew religion, it will ever at first 
 sight appear an overgrown mass of trivial or unimportant ceremonies : 
 but if we' consider the view with which, the time when, and the people 
 for whom this ritual was compiled, we shall soon be convinced that it 
 was compiled with judgment, and with a more than ordinary knowledge 
 of the human heart. The view of the compiler, or composer, was, to 
 establish and secure the worship of the one true God ; and consequently 
 to prevent idolatry, to which this people were so prone, and had been so 
 long accustomed in the land of Egypt. Very wisely, therefore, he 
 makes a composition with them, on bringing them out of that land ; to 
 which, in spite of his indulgence, they more than once threatened to 
 return. ' Ye shall still,' said he, ( have a pompous public worship ; 
 ye shall have a tabernacle, an altar, priests, sacrifices, ceremonies, 
 festivals, as other nations have; only apply and appropriate all this to 
 the worship of the Lord, the God of Israel." 
 
 He adds — 
 ! " The object of their worship was changed indeed, but little of its 
 mode ; for it is now a question among the learned, whether a great part 
 of their ritual were not derived from that nation. Let the reader con- 
 sult, &c, &c." 
 
139 
 
 a The speculative part of Mosaic divinity is extremely concise, and 
 summed up in the belief of one supreme God, the Creator and Governor., 
 and of subordinate beings called Angels and Ministers. The practical 
 theology is of much greater extent, — the moral, and the ritual. The moral 
 is short, and contained in the decalogue ; and even some of these belong 
 rather to jurisprudence than to divinity. The municipal laws are excel- 
 lent on the whole. Although he makes no formal declaration of the 
 rights of man, all his ideas are evidently founded on that principle. 
 The poor are provided for by admonitions equivalent to commands. 
 Brotherly love and good neighbourhood are enjoined ; and probity is 
 inculcated in all transactions." 
 
 This is a simple synopsis of the laws of Moses, and 
 worthy every man's profoundest meditation. 
 
 Of the different versions of the Bible, Geddes says — 
 
 " We have, of the Pentateuch, the Jews' version, and another of the 
 Samaritans : the Greek translation is formed of these. We have also a 
 Chaldee version, and a Chaldee paraphrase ; and a Syriac translation of 
 these. And in the fourth century, we have a Latin version by St. 
 Jerome ; and in the tenth century, an Arabic version by Saadias ; and, 
 more latterly, another Arabic version by Epernicius. We have, besides, 
 another in the Samaritan vulgar dialect, of a very early 'period ; and, 
 lately published, a Greek version of uncertain date, belonging to St. 
 Mark's Library at Venice. By the help of these versions, compared 
 with the original and with one another, I have endeavoured to form a 
 new translation,*&c., &c. ' 
 
 This, at least, is a scholar's sketch, and exhibits the 
 proper acquaintance with the difficulty and range of the 
 subject, and is therefore evidence of true dealing and 
 sufficient power. Of his judgment, of his faith, these 
 things prove nothing; and, no doubt, they have been 
 severely called to account. 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 May 26, 1845. 
 Your forgetfulness and inattention to persons present, 
 and the little messes that you therefore occasionally drop 
 into, remind me of a scene acted upon me one day that I 
 was in a committee for the first time. " Oh, Dr. Knap- 
 pis/' said Mr. Upton (who, by the bye, is a man of vertu, 
 a lover of the arts), "I wonder what those linen-drapers 
 
140 
 
 have done with the Bowyer gem — what could they do with 
 it? What were their names ?" added he, laughing, as if at 
 our embarrassment with such a godsend. Dr. Knappis 
 kicked him under the table (for he knew me), and tried to 
 stop him at first— but uselessly; so he said, "I don't 
 
 know what Messrs. have done with it; but," said he, 
 
 pointing to me, " I am sure Mr. will tell you." Poor 
 
 old man ! he became embarrassed, and floundered out 
 some apology; which I laughed at good-temperedly, con- 
 fessing it was a fair hit. These little messes are common 
 enough in such a place as London, where people get 
 together without knowing exactly how, and where many 
 men talk fast and carelessly. But in such an isolated 
 
 place as I should have thought these peccadilloes 
 
 extraordinary — a near approach to imbecility. I should 
 like to see the effect of a good sound perplexity in that 
 mild face of your's. So, you often " speak first, and 
 think afterwards :"— well, at least look hard at the 
 questioner, because, some day, you may give an ugly 
 answer, fixing you for a life-time ! 
 
 Oh, don't imagine I was offended by your flattery. I 
 receive a good deal of it; but then, I receive also an ex- 
 cellent counterbalance of fault-finding. That which you 
 receive is all one way— all praise — excepting, perhaps, 
 what I sometimes venture, with great temerity, " per 
 contra." If you forgive me, at least you must have a 
 merciful spirit. 
 
 Thank you for the review of" Deerbrook !" — it is just 
 what I like. Many things there must have impressed 
 themselves deeply on you. Out of jealousy for the 
 honour of the " silly old woman's love of mesmerism," 
 I dislike your somewhat condescending approbation. She 
 has introduced me to the inner feelings of woman's 
 nature — fearlessly done so, knowing well that therein 
 lies woman's strength and attraction. To me — but I am 
 an unsocial mortal — your sex has generally appeared too 
 superficial in character ; light and graceful indeed, 
 beautiful to look at and to handle (as some coarse people 
 express themselves of your loveliness), but sadly neglect- 
 ing your true power, that should make the wheels of 
 life move easily. You strive to shine, to captivate — 
 but, it seems, for victory more than for the amelioration 
 
141 
 
 of man's life. You sacrifice to present success much of 
 that influence that should make home a continual feast, 
 winter and summer, in youth and old age. Margaret, 
 and particularly Mary, knew well this " ancient secret." 
 In such beings lameness even could become a charm ; 
 and no man, worthy of the name, would ever take his 
 affections off the spirit, to look for perfection of form, or 
 any other physical superiority. I know you may retort 
 man's coarse selection, his first impressions, and so de- 
 nounce my authority ; but all men without exception, 
 early or late, demand something more than beauty or 
 polish for life's usage, for companionship, for the charac- 
 ter of the helpmate. Of the preparation for, of the 
 introduction of such deep roots into the minds of our 
 young people, what is taught by our schools ? 
 
 So you love that night scene — that heart's reckoning, 
 told so graphically, between these girls in their secret 
 council. What simple, but what earnest words ! How 
 they set aside all the by-play of girls' sentiment, and 
 talked with true hearts of the deep purposes of life — 
 this Mary and Margaret ! 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 May 27, 1845. 1 
 And so now "your man" must needs make another 
 declaration, that will become a fulcrum to raise a million 
 of minds into compact form and purpose. To his con- 
 fession, that " force had been tried upon Ireland long 
 enough, having always failed of its object,'' he now adds, 
 " The law is become also inoperative, when they, by 
 whom the law is to be enforced, are adverse to its opera- 
 tion." So, to remedy this evil at the root, he top-dresses 
 the soil with a " Bequests Act,'' endows a college or two, 
 and so hopes to disperse the disease — so to persuade 
 them to untie their " bundle of sticks." In answer, they 
 cry out, " England's difficulty is Ireland's opportunity." — 
 How your party works ! 
 And your Times, too — hearest thou these words? — 
 
 " Out of their own mouths, ministers are proved to be only conceding, 
 temporising, intriguing, and managing, without sincerity, or even kind- 
 ness. His conciliation is seen through^ and despised. The New Acade^ 
 
142 
 
 mies is a mere loss : the Irish Catholic bishops have pronounced against 
 this measure, demanding privileges such as we claim for ourselves. 
 They could not do otherwise. They only demand .for themselves the 
 same rights which our church has never ceased to demand for itself, and 
 which it still retains at Oxford, Cambridge, and Dublin." 
 
 And then listen to the u Agitator :" — 
 
 " He gives us, indeed, the outward form of education ; but "education 
 does not consist merely in literature — it is not in Greek, or Latin, or 
 algebra, or any branch of mathematical or natural philosophy, that 
 education alone consists. No : education should form the mind, elevate 
 the heart, direct the judgment — give to Genius its wing, and to Talent its 
 display ; — education should confirm morality, give a zest to the finest 
 feelings of humanity, and to religion an impulse." 
 
 Afterwards he adds — 
 
 '• My object is, to raise my native land from the paltry and pitiful 
 condition of provincial serfdom to the dignity of nationhood ; and to 
 restore to my countrymen the rights of which they have been basely 
 plundered. . . "We have the grant to Maynooth. But what passed in 
 England in consequence \ — a yell, a hellish yell was raised from one end 
 of the land to the other. Every species of religionist was arrayed in 
 opposition to it — every thing that bigotry, prejudice, and fanaticism could 
 suggest, was urged against this simple measure of justice : the English 
 people were emphatically against us. Peel has now no opposition in the 
 House to care for : the great political question of our day lies between 
 the minister and the Irish on the one hand, and the bigotry and fanati- 
 cism of England on the other." 
 
 Such is the force of truth ! And now apply Bacon's 
 words to these small matters — these surface words and 
 .deeds of our leading politicians : — 
 
 " The history of times representeth the magnitude of actions, and the 
 public appearance and deportment of persons, and passeth over in silence 
 the smaller passages and motions of men and matters. But such is. not 
 the workmanship of God, for He doth hang the greatest weight upon 
 the smallest wires. It comes therefore to pass, that such histories do 
 rather set forth the pomp of business than the true and inward results 
 thereof." 
 
 In one of Coleridge's Essays, in which he gives some 
 tales as examples of good biography, there is the follow- 
 ing quotation : — 
 
 " Would you that the Creator, for the sake of these fools, should 
 restrain his own works, and disturb the laws appointed to Nature by his 
 wisdom ? If a man steals grain and sows it, should the seed not shoot 
 
143 
 
 up out of the earth because it was stolen 1 0, no ! the wise Creator lets 
 Nature run her own course, for her course is his appointment. And what 
 if the children of folly abuse it to evil ? The day of reckoning is not far 
 off, and men will then learn, that human actions likewise re-appear in 
 their consequences by as certain a law as the green blade rises up out 
 of the buried corn seed." 
 
 This is a lesson worthy a nation's remembrance — 
 " What we sow we reap," — in Ireland as elsewhere. As 
 Emerson says, "The swindler swindleth himself?" If 
 man would but believe this — every one of us — from 
 what a crowd of misdoings would it save us! 
 
 Shakspeare says, "Any thing that's mended is but 
 patched; and sin that amends, is but patched with 
 virtue;" and adds, "Is this your perfectness ? — be gone, 
 you rogue!" 
 
 You are like many other persons — you refer goodness to 
 what are called religious people, to people professing reli- 
 gious opinions. An opinion is not a principle. Standing 
 by certain words as a demonstration of goodness, is good 
 for nothing. Is the opinion the guide to deeds done — 
 will they act in conformity thereto? If not, the opinion 
 stinks in my nostril, whether they call it belief, faith, or 
 any other thing. A religious person cannot be uncharit- 
 able, or selfish, or sensual, or even unamiable ; — these 
 things speak before God in louder voice than their 
 prayers. I am sick of the word faith, unless it be the 
 great determination of the soul to work in God's law- 
 to adore Him through love, and to abide, against every 
 consequence, in the principle of duty. 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 
 May 29, 1845. 
 
 I have not read Jeremy Taylor's works : I have been 
 afraid of taking them in hand. I feel mortified in con- 
 fessing, I cannot read Hooker's " Ecclesiastical Polity." 
 The oddity of the matter is, that I very much enjoy quo- 
 tations from both these men's works — I like even the 
 quaintness and originality of the style, but soon tire with 
 the complete work. The involved sentences, and the in- 
 distinct and redundant expressions, wear me out; the 
 necessary labour and research is too much for me; for, in 
 the end, I often fail in obtaining the meaning. 
 
144 
 
 Have you read Southey's " Life of Wesley ?'* There 
 is a great fund of good sense in that book, and he deals 
 with the sect fairly, as I think. Of the man Wesley 
 he gives a lively portrait, and places him and his actions 
 before you in a light that, though apparently only graphic, 
 tells you every thing you would desire to know, of his 
 doctrines, his government of his church, and of their 
 effects upon his people. He certainly was a most remark- 
 able man — more remarkable for his talent than for his 
 genius, perhaps. 
 
 I hardly agree with you about the style of writing 
 in Taylor's day. The ideas are better than they appear ; 
 the thoughts are better than the expression, I think. These 
 old fathers of our church were perhaps better divines, 
 possessed more of the real knowledge of theology, and, 
 as I think, a more rational sense of its power and appli- 
 cation to man's wants. Our clergy read too literally, 
 and keep too much to the letter, rather than to the spirit, 
 and so offer it to the comprehension of the people. That 
 we do not so readily understand the meaning of the 
 old writers, is just as likely as that the public whom 
 they addressed would not readily understand us ; they 
 would have a new idiom to learn ; and we have to 
 learn an old one. However, as style, I much prefer 
 our's, without saying it is better relatively ; — youjmust 
 take the best of both parties. Macaulay's Essays, 
 and indeed the Edinburgh Review generally, appear to 
 me the perfection of close reasoning, lucid utterance, 
 and manly vigour of sentiment and public spirit — of 
 course you will abate my Whiggery ! 
 
 LXXXVIII. 
 
 May 31, 1845. 
 If you will permit me to have a little fling at you 
 now and then with my political stick, I promise you all 
 the boxes I knock down. It is astonishing though, how 
 stationary you keep them. My brethren talk well, you 
 say, but do little. What darkness is this, not to see that 
 the Whigs do not progress, because of the infernal weight 
 behind them. But you must acknowledge, you hatch 
 our eggs ! — and that vulgarism from you, about want of 
 

 i4a 
 
 principle ! The only error lies, in both parties, that they 
 persuade themselves they act wisely when they act fool- 
 ishly — they see so often a paltry expediency, that, at 
 last, they believe it to be a great principle. One man 
 can do nothing — he must take a party with him. Sir 
 Robert Peel is always before his party — he is compelled 
 to abate from his principles ; and, by taking instalments 
 of his principles, he will be able to lead his supporters 
 gradually to the point of his political knowledge — to the 
 end of his principles. When I find fault with the man, 
 I mean always his political position in his party. He 
 alone of you, or nearly he alone, sees the changing 
 world of men — the changing, if not progressing im- 
 pulses of social life, and the need of conforming to, or 
 directing them. To stand still — "to let well alone/ 5 
 your ever-sounding cuckoo cry — is to be left behind. 
 Men will move ; and if you look back, there is the im- 
 posing truth to be seen, through every age of the 
 world. 
 
 Seest thou not, that party is now disuniting ; that men 
 ask for something more than blind submission to the 
 heads of a party; that they ask for reason, and the 
 intelligence of thoughtful minds ? The Times is a re- 
 markable exemplification of this principle. How long 
 ago would it have dared to have risked its circulation 
 among the reasonable only ? Parliament indeed still 
 continues to recognise the necessity of combined men ; 
 it is convenient to prevent 658 opinions starting up to 
 declare themselves ; but Parliament and public opinion 
 are looking for results, and not for professions, — 
 demanding wisdom, and not oratory. 
 
 I have fixed upon a school for my girls. This is the 
 governess's address to my wife ; and if it be carried out, 
 I shall be satisfied with the result : "Our plan is, to 
 direct the judgment, to form the habits of the mind, 
 through school education." The ordinary plan is there- 
 fore subservient. " We teach accomplishments as an 
 improvement of the general manners ; but always so as 
 to give the chief care to what is solidly useful for life's 
 experience. We never suffer the young ladies to be 
 alone ; we are their companions for all hours ; and hold 
 something like a soiree daily, to provoke the expression 
 
146 
 
 of thought and good manners. Fancy work — all mere 
 killing of time — is discouraged ; and the importance of 
 the common duties of life, and the earnest appeal these 
 duties make to the judgment, is set forth directly and 
 indirectly, as occasion serves, through whatever humble 
 channel." 
 
 This, I think, is well spoken ; it conveys what I want, 
 at all events. This is an appeal to useful principles, 
 that would not be very striking to many mothers of the 
 citizen class, and therefore shows a fearless repose in the 
 direction of the understanding and development of the 
 true graces of the woman. There is a letter in " The 
 Friend," from Professor Wilson, asking for direction in 
 forming a young man's character ; and an answer from 
 Wordsworth — both of which I should like to send you 
 a general view of; but I fear to plague you by my long 
 quotations. Coleridge has selected many passages from 
 Wordsworth's poetry, of great moral beauty, that almost 
 make me lament my heresy about the poet's works in 
 general. This Wordsworth was but a poor churchman, 
 I should think, — understanding the name in its high- 
 church sense. 
 
 I suppose you read Punch — at least, " Mrs. Caudle's 
 Lectures." Hang the man ! he is quizzing every 
 married pair in England ; though I do hope the husbands 
 make use of it. I quote it constantly — I find it useful : — 
 
 " No, never." — " Well, very seldom, and that's the same thing." — 
 " Don't shont so, Caudle ; — it's very hard, I can't say a word quietly 
 to you." — " That's nothing to do with it, nothing. But that's your 
 way, when I talk of one thing, you talk of another." 
 
 The common reply this to unanswerable argument. 
 Recommend it to your friends who are plagued; it 
 will comfort them! 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 June 1, 1845. 
 M From Sextus I learned what it was to live in harmony with Nature. 
 To him I owe the knowledge of a man at once dispassionate and affec- 
 tionate, and who, of all his attractions, sets the least value on the multi- 
 plicity of his literary acquisitions." 
 
147 
 
 This is Coleridge's motto to the interchange of letters 
 between Wilson and Wordsworth, on the education of 
 youth ; or rather on the guidance of youth after school 
 education is finished. Wilson exhibits the dangers youth 
 is subjected to, and particularly from the seductiveness 
 of the world, when the opinions are being set ; and adds, 
 " Whatever be their intellectual powers, their minds are 
 almost at the mercy of fortune." He brings the fresh- 
 ness and innocence of early impressions into the busy 
 world, and brings also a familiarity with the deeds of 
 the great beings recorded in history, and asks for like 
 performances among ordinary friends of literary acquire- 
 ments. 
 
 " Here, then, is the power of delusion which will gather round the first 
 steps of a youthful spirit, and throw enchantment over a world in which 
 he is to dwell. And then miserable disappointment visits him; and 
 gradually he changes in hope, and at last casts himself loose from the 
 communion of higher minds, The youth, therefore, requires a guiding 
 hand .into this entangled path of life ; and his lot is happy, who owes 
 this protection to friendship." 
 
 So speaks Wilson ; to which Coleridge adds— 
 
 * e We have one such guide for the youths of our age. I believe that 
 mighty voice has not been poured out in vain ; that there are hearts 
 that have received into their inmost depths all its varying tones ; and 
 even now, there are many to whom the name of Wordsworth calls up 
 the recollection of their weakness, and the consciousness of his strength." 
 
 Wordsworth's reply is remarkable for good common 
 sense, and its application to the highest purposes of 
 life : — 
 
 " We set up an enthusiasm," he says, " where we should be content 
 with affectionate and simple duty. The great of other days were not 
 better than what we have, but we forget the crowd we are looking into, 
 and the jew we have handed down to us of other days. Our ques- 
 tion,", he adds, " should be, not the power and worth of individual minds, 
 but of the general moral and intellectual merits of an age, of the human 
 race. The progress of the species is not like a Roman road, in a 
 straight line. It is more like a river which diverges, yet has an impulse 
 that will insure its advancement towards the great sea. But human 
 kind — what is it else than myriads of rational beings, in various degrees 
 obedient to their reason ; some wasting down their moral nature, and 
 others feeding it for immortality ? A whole generation may appear to 
 
148 
 
 Bleep, but there are scattered and solitary minds labouring somewhere 
 in the service of truth and virtue." 
 
 These are his general observations — the preface, as it 
 were, to his letter. He resumes : — 
 
 " But, to strike at once at the root of my correspondent's letter : — 
 Protection from any fatal effect of seductions and hindrances which 
 opinion may throw in the way of pure and high-minded youth, can only 
 be obtained by steady dependence upon voluntary and self-originating 
 effort, and upon the practice of self-examination, sincerely aimed at and 
 rigorously enforced. . . . 
 
 " The inquiry should be thus regulated : — Am I chiefly gratified| by 
 the exertion of my powers from the pure pleasure of intellectual activity, 
 and from the knowledge thereby acquired 1 or, because of the distinc- 
 tion they "give me over others % Do I allow honours and emoluments 
 to have much power over me ? Have I perceived this ; and, perceiving 
 it, does the countenance of Philosophy continue to appear as bright and 
 beautiful^in my eyes ? Knowing that it is my duty, and feeling that it is 
 my inclination, to mingle as a social being with my fellow-men, prepared 
 also to submit to all imperative circumstances, — have I, while I stand 
 at the threshold of the busy world, a clear intuition of that pre-eminence 
 in which Virtue and Truth (involving in the latter word the sanctities of 
 religion) sit enthroned above all denominations and dignities which rule 
 over the destinies of man \ " 
 
 And then he exhibits this beautiful allegory : — 
 
 " Here is the World— a female figure, with giddy followers ; careless in 
 air, self-satisfied, and haughty in deportment. And there is Intellectual 
 Prowess, with a pale cheek and serene brow, Truth being her beautiful 
 and modest captive. Of these two, each in this manner soliciting you 
 to become her adherent, you doubt not which to "prefer. But, oh ! the 
 thought of moment is not preference, but the degree of preference, the 
 passionate and pure choice, the inward sense of absolute and unchange- 
 able devotion." 
 
 " We have been discoursing of pleasure," (he says, further on) " lying 
 upon the unfolding intellect plenteously as morning dew-drops. We 
 have been treating of Nature as a teacher of truth through joy and glad- 
 ness. We have made no mention of fear and shame, nor of ungovern- 
 able and vexing thoughts, because these are overlooked in that stage of 
 life when youth is passing into manhood— overlooked and forgotten. . . 
 We now apply to the faculty of Reason : she gives more spontaneously, 
 but she seeks for more ; she works by thought through feeling, yet in 
 thought she begins and ends. . . . The being of the individual is under 
 his own care : duty begins at the point of accountableness to our con- 
 
Mmsm 
 
 149 
 
 science, and, through that, to God and human nature. The motions of 
 the soul transcend in worth those of the animal functions, nay, give them 
 their sole value. Let then the youth under disappointment go back 
 to nature and to solitude, and rely upon this newly acquired support. A 
 world of fresh sensations will gradually open upon him as his mind puts 
 off its infirmities, and as he makes it his prime business to understand 
 himself. . . These expectations are not immoderate ; they demand no- 
 thing more than the perception of a few plain truths ; namely, that 
 knowledge, efficacious for the production of virtue, is the ultimate end of 
 all effort; &c. &c. . . . Thought must govern all actions that move us 
 to salutary good ; it makes the consistency or harmony of the being 
 within itself. Our eyes have not been fixed upon virtue which lies apart 
 from human nature, or transcends it ; there is no such virtue. Distress- 
 ful feelings act salutarily, for there can be no passionate and confirmed'Iove 
 of truth for him who has not experienced the hollowness of error. Na- 
 ture has irrevocably decreed, that our prime dependence, in all stages of 
 life after childhood, must be upon our own minds ; and that the way to 
 knowledge shall be long, difficult, winding, and oftentimes returning 
 upon itself. Should the student persist steadily for a while, he needs not 
 fear any deviations from the truth which will be finally injurious to him. 
 He will not long have his admiration fixed upon unworthy objects ; he 
 will neither be bowed down by conventional arguments of manners, nor 
 will the rock of his spirit wear away in the endless beating of the waves 
 of the world. All modes of existence are subservient to one spirit : " — 
 
 " I myself commend 
 
 Unto thy guidance from this hour ; 
 
 Oh ! let my weakness have an end ! 
 
 Give unto me, made lowly wise, 
 
 The spirit of self-sacrifice; 
 
 The confidence of reason give, 
 
 And in the light of truth, thy bondsman let me live." 
 
 I am afraid I shall have conveyed to you but a poor 
 idea of this beautiful production of Wordsworth's. I 
 shall be much pleased, however, if it provoke you to 
 search for the original essay or letter :— carefully read, it 
 cannot but richly reward you. 
 
 XC: 
 
 June 5, 1845. 
 
 How do you like this definition of religion ? — 
 
 " In its widest sense, it signifies the act and habit of reverencing the 
 invisible, as the highest, both in ourselves and in nature. To this the 
 
 H 
 
150 
 
 senses, and their immediate objects, are to be made subservient — the one 
 as its organs, the other as its exponents. They are, in short, a language ; 
 and, taken independently of their representative function, they are 
 mere empty sounds. Many there are who sacrifice the religion of faith 
 to the superstition of the senses." 
 
 Lo, this is "the faith of the righteous man," and not 
 the profession of a set of opinions. 
 
 Again, he says, — 
 
 " Without this high principle, we have the moral world disjoined 
 from religion. Instead of morality, we can at best have only a scheme 
 of prudence — and this, too, a prudence fallible and short-sighted." 
 
 The man who professes to be guided by any other 
 principle than the "invisible faith" in greatness and 
 purity— assured of its economy and justice — is guided by 
 some expediency, or by some uncomprehended principle, 
 as likely to mislead him as to place him in the path of 
 his duty to God and man. 
 
 Coleridge says, — 
 
 " A superior man is known even in a gossip, by the unity of his 
 mind, by the unpremeditated arrangement of his expressions, having 
 one leading impulse upon his motive power. However irregular and 
 desultory his talk, there is method in the fragments. In an inferior 
 man, we immediately perceive that his memory alone is called into 
 action — he is under the impulse of the direction of the moment ; 
 Ins mind is therefore accidental always, and expressed loosely and 
 variably." 
 
 And you say, you know very little of Coleridge's writ- 
 ings. Why, he is the very man to please a poetic spirit 
 like your's ; even his manner of treating a dry subject is 
 full of poetry. True it is, a person must have some 
 knowledge of something more than the form of poetry 
 to enjoy his peculiar and rich arguments. He was a 
 singular man — neither Shakspeare, nor Milton, nor 
 Locke, nor Porson ; but a mixture of all, though per- 
 haps not so profound as either of them. I think his 
 great failing is, that he refines over-much — his mind 
 was too active to dwell patiently on any subject ; and 
 perhaps his great love of and success in conversation 
 is the best demonstration of this impetuosity of spirit. 
 He was more brilliant in talk than Johnson, but his 
 
-UX! 
 
 151 
 
 mind had similar ingenuity, readiness, and aptness for 
 whatever was started before him. Let me persuade you 
 to read his "Table Talk," as an introduction to the 
 man. 
 
 XCI. 
 
 June 7, 1845. 
 " The effective education of the reason is not to be supplied by multi- 
 farious acquirements, for there is but one knowledge that merits to be 
 called wisdom, which is the set and direction of the understanding, the 
 law of the mind that shall govern all, in and through all." 
 
 So said Heraclitus. This is the motto to the 10th 
 Essay of the third volume of "The Friend/' the best 
 essay of the work, I think. 
 
 Coleridge says, — 
 
 a Of the many I have seen educated — that is, be-schoolmastered — 
 I might exclaim, with the Scythian traveller, V<s! quantum nihili! 
 They have received arms and ammunition, but not skill, strength, and 
 courage : perilously over-civilized they are, but pitiably uncultivated. 
 And all from inattention to the method, to the simple truth of making 
 all knowledge proceed from within : it may be trained, fed, and excited, 
 but can never be infused or impressed by any other design." 
 
 Speaking of man's temporal objects, he says, — 
 
 " There are two main directions in this our day, — trade and literature. 
 These things, indeed, had effect, after the dismemberment of the old 
 Roman world, to reduce conquerors and conquered at once into several 
 nations and a common Christendom. The natural law of increase, and 
 the instincts of family, may produce tribes and races ; and conquest 
 may form empires. But, without trade and literature mutually com- 
 mingled, there can be no nation ; without commerce and science, no bond 
 of nations. The one has outward power, the other inward power. And, 
 under the ascendancy of the mental and moral character, the commer- 
 cial relations may thrive to the utmost desirable point ; while the reverse 
 is ruinous to both, and, sooner or later, effectuates the fall or debasement 
 of the country itself. This is the richest truth obtained for mankind by 
 historic research. 
 
 " In the pursuits of commerce, the man is called into action from 
 without ; while in literature, the evolution of humanity is the final aim. 
 Their great strength is in seeking one common ground for the well-being 
 of mankind." 
 
 ii 2 
 
152 
 
 Try to make some of your friends lift themselves up to 
 this point of seeing the trueend of trade; and persuade your 
 learned friends also, that this connexion of Coleridge's 
 with this humble helpmate would beneficially serve the 
 family of man. The many look down upon this " com- 
 mon brother" as good for nothing but to sneeze at. 
 
 XCII. 
 
 June 8, 1845. 
 I have just returned from church, and have felt 
 delighted with the beautiful 40th Psalm. 
 
 " I waited patiently for the Lord, and he inclined unto me, and heard 
 my calling. He lifted me up out of the mire and clay, and set my feet 
 upon a rock, and ordered my goings. And he put a new song into my 
 mouth, and I uttered a thanksgiving unto our God." 
 
 " Blessed is the man that hath set his hope in the Lord, and turned 
 away from the false hopes of the world. O Lord, great are thy wondrous 
 works, and merciful are thy thoughts to us-ward ; and yet there is no 
 man that rightly worships thee." 
 
 " Sacrifice thou wouldest not ; but mine ears hast thou opened : burnt 
 offerings for sin thou hast not required. Then said I, Lo, I come. I will 
 testify of thy righteousness before all people : I will not refrain my lips. 
 I have not hid thy glory within my heart ; my talk has been of thy 
 truth and thy salvation." 
 
 " O Lord ! let thy loving kindness and thy truth always preserve 
 me ; for troubles are come about me ; my sins have taken deep hold 
 upon me: I am not able to look up unto thee, for they are more in 
 number than the hairs of my head, and my heart hath failed me. Make 
 haste, Lord, to help me. Thou art my helper and redeemer ; make 
 no long tarrying, my God." 
 
 Here is the true motive power of righteousness, and 
 the beauty of thanksgiving, and the solidity of faith. 
 
 And now permit me to give you a passage of another 
 frame-work, a subtler reckoning, but still calling to the 
 deeps within man's spirit. 
 
 " The head will not be disjoined from the heart. And vainly, 
 without the union of both, shall we expect an opening of the inward eye 
 to the glorious vision of that existence which admits of no question out 
 of itself, acknowledges no predicate but the T am, in that, I am. For, 
 conceived merely intellectually, individuality is only conceivable as 
 with and in the universal and infinite, neither before nor after it. Hast 
 
153 
 
 thou ever raised thy mind to the consideration of existence in and by 
 itself, as the mere act of existing ! Hast thou ever said to thysel 
 thoughtfully, It is ! heedless in that moment whether it were a man 
 before thee, or a flower, or a grain of sand — without reference, in short, 
 to this or that particular mode or form of existence ? If thou hast 
 attained to this, thou wilt have felt the presence of a mystery, which 
 
 must have fixed thy spirit in awe and wonder This it was 
 
 which first caused the nobler minds of antiquity to feel within themselves 
 a something ineffably greater than their own individual nature. It was 
 this which, raising them aloft, prepared them to become the lights and 
 awakening voices of other men, the founders of law and religion, the 
 educators and foster-gods of mankind. The power which evolved this 
 idea of being — being in its essence, being limitless — how shall we name 
 it ? The idea itself, what is it ? It is absolutely one ; and yet man dare as 
 little arrogate it to himself as his own — can as little appropriate it, either 
 totally or by partition, as he can claim ownership in the breathing air, or 
 make an inclosure in the cope of heaven. What must we infer ? — even 
 the absolute will of God, the super-essential source of being ; and in the 
 eternal act of self-affirmation, the Father and Son, with the Spirit pro- 
 ceeding, is the only one God from everlasting to everlasting." 
 
 Now read Emerson's " Over Soul " again ; and atten- 
 tively consider the " I and my Father are one;" and 
 then a new light may break in upon your fearful spirit. 
 
 Bacon says, "The antiquity of time is the youth of 
 the world and of science." 
 
 XCIII. 
 
 June 15, 1845. 
 And so now daily our " directors " are seeing that Ire- 
 land cannot be dealt with as a province ; that the word 
 concession is unfit to be used to a people. " But, after 
 all," says the Times of yesterday, " O'Connell is not a 
 little man ; his supporters are not a party, but a people ; 
 and animated by an unparalleled unity of sentiment and 
 religion. ' We are seven millions/ is an appeal which 
 cannot be neglected .... O'Connell is able to claim 
 the credit of having defeated every attempt to destroy 
 his influence .... Every thing that England has ever 
 done for Ireland, it must be confessed, has been wrung 
 from her necessities — has been doled out with the parsi- 
 mony of a miser, or the economy of a speculator .... 
 
154 
 
 We have substituted conciliatory for beneficial value. 
 Why spoil our own work, by calling a duty, a bribe ? " 
 There is a world of wisdom in these two last sentences. 
 "We see the minister," he continues, "on all-fours, idly 
 gazing on imbecilities : it was an imbecility so much as 
 to mention conciliation?' Such is the humbling picture 
 of a great people trafficking in expediency, instead of 
 dealing equal justice. 
 
 In common with many of my friends, H differs from 
 
 me in all my ideas of this Irish question. He denounces 
 Ireland's turbulency — as if it ever got anything by any 
 other means ; and denounces Peel's measures, because 
 of the truckling to " this bully's demand." But if you 
 ask what other likelihood there is of getting, or giving, 
 he confesses his grief, but holds on to the denunciation. 
 He is equally angry with your friend Sir Robert, for the 
 degrading position of "hatching our eggs." He won't 
 hear of " changing times, and the moving spirit of the 
 world," and how the man is lifted up by impelling cir- 
 cumstances and the force of reason. " Place, love of 
 power, is the whole of it," he says. Party must be to 
 him a righteous affair, such as the world never yet saw 
 exhibited. Consistency seems more important to him 
 than acquired knowledge, and great circumstances de- 
 veloping from the womb of time. 
 
 XCIV. 
 
 June 15, 1845. 
 
 One feels hot and sleepy in church now, and not 
 heedful enough of the fine solemnity of our prayers. 
 I never tire of the church service; that, at least, is not 
 the proper word for occasional listlessness. It is the 
 monotonous tone, and the continual reiteration, that tire 
 one. Our clergy call it sin, this forgetfulness ; but they 
 forget the power of habitual droning. No sensual 
 pleasure even could hold upon us under like repetition ; 
 we cannot help hoping for variety. 
 
 The lessons — many of them queer lessons — impress 
 themselves more on the mind than the always beautiful 
 prayers, because of their variation. Daniel's speech and 
 Paul's letter, to-day, roused me, and I connected myself 
 
155 
 
 with the minds of these men as if I heard them speak. 
 There seems no bound, no limited life, for the soul. As 
 some one has said, " all precedent time is one fact to the 
 thoughtful spirit." 
 
 We had an Irishman to preach : he explained worship, 
 as action through thought — as deeds through high mo- 
 tive, and all centring in faith, in principle, — conscience, 
 motive, and governance, as one thing and separate. I 
 thought it a happy definition of the Trinity. 
 
 J am afraid 1 shall give you more trouble to under- 
 stand me than my matter is worth. At all events, my 
 own feelings are getting into some change ; substances 
 are becoming shadowy to me; things thought heretofore 
 real, I think now symbolical ; and matters of fact seem 
 types of spirit and of invisible power. 
 
 Coming home yesterday, there was an idiot in the 
 carriage with us, going to Bethlehem Hospital. He was 
 about 18 ; cheerful and playful, and astonished beyond 
 every thing at the new motion, and the flitting things 
 about him. His antics were wilder and more unseemly 
 than any animal's ; he was a lower being than a beast of 
 the field. Poor humanity ! without reason what are 
 we ? And yet what is taught us, at times, by the church 
 about its guidance ? But not for me — oh, not for me, is 
 this a teaching;. 
 
 xcv. 
 
 June 16, ]845. 
 
 I am very glad to hear of your getting better. As to 
 your complaint of the heat, of your " dissolving,'' there 
 is little fear anent that ; for you resemble the blocks of 
 the Wenham-Lake Ice Company, which look indeed the 
 nicest things imaginablejust now, but remain nevertheless 
 impervious even to the sun. I saw a large block of this 
 ice this afternoon in the Strand, and could not help 
 saying, " How like a frozen Poole I know of ! " 
 
 I must say you have read Lane's " Modern Egyptians" 
 with great attention ; you have not skipped much of that. 
 Not only of Lane's book, but of the crowd of authors, 
 it may be said, a large quantity of the writing might 
 be subtracted without injury to the work ; but then, you 
 
156 
 
 feel nothing for the fond author's love of his progeny, and 
 how his heart bleeds to see merciless bereavement; and 
 then again, the fashion demands 300 or 400 pages, or 
 else your labour is dubbed a pamphlet. It is a mercy, 
 however, we are spared the huge folios of other days. 
 
 I hardly make out your meaning about Mahomet. 
 You must remember, that he could neither read nor 
 write, though apparently a good accountant, — if you can 
 believe in this anomaly, which is no difficulty to me. Just 
 in the same manner, he was an author without being a 
 writer, which was no very uncommon case in the olden 
 time. Such a man, however, must have had great imagi- 
 native power, full of a poetic spirit. The Koran is a 
 proof of this; though, to our cold blood, it seems a wild 
 and unconnected song or fable; but then, this was the 
 frame-work of all ancient wisdom — the web in which was 
 woven the highest knowledge, and the holiest teaching 
 or man. 
 
 He knew Christ's history, and knew his principles 
 also; and that he should make use of them, is natural 
 enough. He has adopted a good deal of its morality, 
 and much of its spirituality, and mode of teaching. He 
 has clothed these things indeed in more mystery; and, 
 possibly, in attempting to add brilliancy to the beautiful 
 and simple picture; has laid the colours on u sign-fashion,'* 
 over-much. An Englishman, however, is not a good 
 judge of such a work. 
 
 Do tell me the meaning of these words? O'Connell 
 was speaking of the separate power of these three king- 
 doms, and of their joint power under wise governance ; 
 and some one of his audience exclaimed, " May the 
 Almighty long spare you." " Amen," rejoined O'Connell, 
 u but you are joking." Here is an answer to a question 
 not put, — can you tell me its import? In this manner 
 also they spoke of old; you must have the key to this 
 Shibboleth. 
 
 I received a second note from your friend yesterday, 
 which I inclose to you. I really like your friend, though 
 I have not seen her. Her head is clear, and full of good 
 sense ; her manners are business-like and lady-like also. 
 I should like to recommend her systematic way to 
 you. 
 
157 
 
 My wife has laid a memorandum on my desk, to ask 
 certain questions of you and your friends; and because, 
 occasionally, she is a tiresome thing, and as I never dare 
 take vengeance directly, I inclose the rough notes, as 
 her punishment — oh, be sure never to mention it— think 
 of poor Caudle's fate. 
 
 So now, here is your new Premier exhibiting himself in 
 the House of Lords— exhibiting the great policy that shall 
 act usefully upon this froward generation ! His power 
 in debate is worth noticing also. Well enough his son 
 may think him a queer old gentleman. " Criminal it is 
 to give encouragement to catholics" — out of their own 
 money. " They worship images !" — Does he worship, 
 in like manner, no type ? — call no shadow a substance ? 
 " Transubstantiation is contrary to reason" — but not our 
 Athanasian Creed, &c. &c. &c. And then see his political 
 notions of governing men — see his ideas of law— how 
 that the same party who made a law, cannot alter it, but 
 under pains of premunire. After bidding for the pre- 
 miership by letters, now he offers further evidence of his 
 fitness, — but is your party so humbled as to accept such a 
 leader — are you so low down in intelligence as to have a 
 thought of making Newcastle first man in the land? 
 Old Waterloo was half inclined to sneeze upon him, — 
 but it seemed too easv. 
 
 XCVI. 
 
 June 21 r 1845. 
 
 Oh, you women ! inscrutable and variable — extreme 
 north or south ! And then you say, " I won't repeat your 
 wife's secret, tell her so — at least, if I know what 1 am 
 about." Why, this forgetfulness is the very fear— a 
 woman's fear of you ! You are a soda-water bottle — 
 uncork you, and see what is left within ! I defy you to 
 keep the secret, and all the more because you are desired 
 to keep it. 
 
 I have been reading " Sam Slick " to-day, and have 
 been rather tickled with this admirable definition of 
 woman : — 
 
 ii 5 
 
158 
 
 " Any man that understands horses has a pretty considerable know- 
 ledge of women ; for they are just alike in temper, and require the same 
 treatment. I encourage the timid ones, be gentle and steady with the 
 fractious, but leather the sulky ones like blazes. People talk a plaguy 
 sight of nonsense about wine, women, and horses : I have traded in them 
 all, and I tell you, there aint one in a thousand that knows a grain about 
 either on 'em. The female heart is just like a new India-rubber shoe ; 
 you may pull and pull at it, till it stretches out a yard long ; and then 
 let go, — it flies back to its old shape. There's a plaguy sight of wear in 
 'em, I tell you." 
 
 I have been to see the flower show at the Horticultural 
 Gardens. They issued 14,000 tickets. Allowing for 
 any deduction you please, the number was very great in 
 the gardens, and chiefly girls. I was disappointed how- 
 ever (being no judge of flowers) in the show of the girls. 
 Bustles, and hair petticoats, and barege, made the chief 
 beauty of the figure " a mockery and a delusion." Of 
 what constituted the outward intelligence of the spirit, 
 I saw Very little ; but* perhaps, that is not the worse for 
 being kept within, at such a place. Nevertheless, the 
 scene is a striking picture, and pleasant to behold. Per- 
 haps there is no other large assemblage of people to be 
 compared with this, for distinction of persons, for com- 
 parative purity, for the absence of any miserable mix- 
 ture or annoyance. The races of our neighbourhood 
 have dreadful drawbacks — horrid noise, vile manners 
 intermixed, and the very worst kind of beggary- beggary 
 without distress. One half of the men, and one fourth 
 of the women, are nearly drunk, and all seem excited 
 in some poor animal manner. 
 
 There was some capital music at these gardens ; three 
 bands of soldier-musicians. It is pleasant to see the 
 power of a little stick — this type of the leader's will, by 
 which he infuses order and measure, and warmth and 
 energy, through a hundred intelligent men. 
 
 XCVII. 
 
 June 27, 1845. 
 Have you heard that wailing song of the Times, upon 
 the Irish poor? '* They grow bread indeed, but may 
 
 
159 
 
 not eat : God is bountiful, but man is the hindrance." 
 Lo ! that is the burden of the song. It is a real distress 
 to every generous heart to hear a human creature plead- 
 ing for work to save a family from hunger. In this 
 immediate neighbourhoood one hears little of this ; but 
 go into Kent, that fine county, and the very faces of vast 
 numbers of the agricultural poor frighten you. A white- 
 faced, half-famished man, begged work of me, at Sand- 
 gate> a little while ago. " What can I do, my man ? " 
 said I, "I have no work to give you. Why dont you 
 go into the poor house I" " Lord, sir, I and my family 
 have been there all the winter, up to now indeed ; I be 
 ashamed to stop there any longer j but now I can't get 
 work. For God's sake, employ me." Oh, poor human 
 family ; how oddly thy destinies seem assorted. I 
 wonder if such poor creatures look up into the sky, and 
 ask — " Wherefore" and " How long, O Lord! " 
 
 The South-Eastern Railroad, after leaving Reigate, 
 passes through a beautiful district — the wooded scenery 
 is extensive and ornamental ; but the farms seem badly 
 tilled ; even the hop gardens do not appear very pro- 
 ductive. I was surprised to see the homesteads so empty 
 in September last. These farmers sadly want energy — 
 all that makes character and spirited purpose. I am 
 told however, this district is the worst part of Kent. 
 
 For forty miles, after leaving Reigate, you travel 
 through a beautiful country — beautiful to look at ; and 
 then, passing through a tunnel, you come out into the 
 greatest contrast imaginable — bleak downs, bold hills, 
 and the sea. In the first journey, I felt bewildered by 
 this sudden change — -this abrupt division of the land. 
 
 Have you read Bruce' s Travels ? I confess I could 
 not get through them. I am now reading Sir F. B. 
 Head's Life of Bruce, which is also a synopsis of his 
 Egyptian journey ; and, because of the graphic power 
 of this author, and his admirable tact in producing the 
 chief points of interest in the travels, I am delighted 
 with his book. One cannot help feeling grateful that we 
 are not natives of Egypt, however much our social com- 
 pact may fall short of man's duty to his fellows. The 
 hateful hyena seems not a more repulsive beast than 
 they are ; and they are so chiefly through their rulers. 
 
160 
 
 Such a love as Brace's — such sustained and indomit- 
 able courage for such an object — to communicate the 
 source of the Nile to Europe — is more than I can under- 
 stand. The effect could be nothing upon the community 
 of man, and could only gratify the curiosity of a few ; — 
 its reward was, to say, alone I did it ; for this cause he 
 endured more physical suffering, more mental anxiety 
 — even the daily expectation of death — than any other 
 man has voluntarily undertaken for the greatest benefit 
 of his fellows. 
 
 What a striking natural fact is this ! — There is a range 
 of mountains parallel to but distant from the Red Sea, 
 on one side of which it rains continually for six months, 
 and then shifts suddenly, and rains on the other side 
 for six months. The wherefore would puzzle the geolo- 
 gists and chymists of the world. 
 
 This Head is one of the most happy writers of the 
 present day. His power to make you feel and see as he 
 does— as if you were with him in every place he describes 
 — is really very remarkable. Only Southey knows this 
 language of emotion — this way into the inner chambers 
 of consciousness where there is no need of presence to 
 hold intimate communion. Read Southey's " Life of 
 Nelson," and the memory will hold the tale for ever. 
 Read Head's "Bubbles of the Brennens;'' his mad 
 " Ride across the Pampas ; " his " Poor Law Reports; " 
 his "Dispatches from Canada;" and his strictures on 
 the government that succeeded him there. Here is va- 
 riety enough for one head — read these, and you will 
 acknowledge he is very successful in every one. He 
 possesses a strong and earnest, but playful spirit ; he is 
 full of fun, and yet a fighter, if need be, every inch of 
 him. 
 
 XCVIII. 
 
 June 30, 1845. 
 Dr. Arnold's " Lectures on History " is a book I 
 would earnestly recommend to you. The "Inaugural 
 Lecture" is a philosophic, and a manly introduction to 
 the subject. It is more remarkable for its good sense, 
 than for its learning, although that seems very extensive. 
 I have to plead guilty to his charge, that "History is 
 
161 
 
 thought meanly of by minds not capable of comprehend- 
 ing the greatness of the subject." I have to confess, I 
 have thought humbly of the records of history — that the 
 general effect was poor — that the deeds portrayed were 
 for the most part such as disgraced humanity — that the 
 lessons derived gave little sound knowledge for man's 
 governance, nor did they much improve the individual 
 reader. I have thought also, that history deals too exclu- 
 sively with kings, and ministers, and generals ; and throws 
 backward into the shade the common people, the common 
 impulses/ and the order of daily life. Let me introduce 
 to you a few sentences of a master's view of these facts. 
 
 " When one for the first time sees mountain scenery, their summits 
 never seem so near the clouds as we had hoped to see them. But a 
 closer acquaintance with these, as with other grand and beautiful ob- 
 jects, convinces us, that our first error arose, not from the want of great- 
 ness in what we saw, but from a want of comprehensiveness in ourselves 
 to grasp it. What we saw was not all that existed, but all that our 
 untaught glance could master." 
 
 This is a beautiful simile, but not quite apposite ; for 
 if we walked over the hills, as we read through the de- 
 tails of history, we should comprehend a great deal of 
 the extent and height of any scenery, at the first proof. 
 
 " The general idea of history seems to be, that it is the biography of a 
 society. It is not so, unless it finds in the persons who are its subject 
 something of a common purpose, the accomplishment of which is the 
 object of their common life. ... In a commonwealth or state, that 
 common life I venture to call the proper subject of history, and it finds 
 its natural expression in those who are invested with the state's govern- 
 ment. . . . Here we have the varied elements which exist in the body of 
 a nation, reduced as it were to an intelligible unity. And when this 
 government is lodged in the hands of a single individual, then biography 
 and history seem to melt into one another, inasmuch as one and the 
 same person combines in himself his life as an individual and the com- 
 mon life of the nation. . . . The common life, then, which we could not 
 find represented by any private members of the state, is brought to a 
 head, and exhibited intelligibly and visibly in the government. And 
 thus history has generally taken governments as the proper representa- 
 tives of nations ; it has recorded the actions and fortunes of kings or 
 national councils, and has so appeared to fulfil its appointed duty, — 
 that of recording the life of a commonwealth." 
 
162 
 
 Now, this again is not strictly true, and forces the 
 concession, that the king and his government are in 
 strict unison with the common people, which is by no 
 means a common case. And so indeed Arnold appears 
 to think, by saying further on, — 
 
 " This is theoretically true, but practically and really it has not been 
 so ; for governments have less represented the state than themselves. 
 The individual life has so predominated in them over the common life, 
 that what in theory is history, becomes in fact no more than biography ; 
 — it does but record the passions and actions of an individual, who is 
 abusing the state's name for the purposes of selfish rather than public 
 good. . . . We see, then, how history has been beguiled from its pro- 
 per business, and has ceased to describe the life of a commonwealth. 
 For, taking governments as the representatives of commonwealths, which 
 in idea they are— history Watcheth their features, as if from them might 
 be drawn the portrait of their respective nations." 
 
 Here is the necessary concession made at once, but 
 the difficulty is not removed to the student, of knowing 
 when, and how far, this historical record is the bio- 
 graphy of an individual, or the history of a common- 
 wealth. In my humble opinion, more knowledge of a 
 people may be gained by a synopsis of the Acts of Par- 
 liament, and by a chronological series of ordinary events, 
 than by the ordinary histories of civilized nations. 
 Wade's "British History" is a happy example of this 
 manner of portraying a people. 
 
 But read this fine exposition of true history, and then 
 quote me an example of its fulfilment — I shall be delighted 
 to read it. 
 
 " A nation's external life is displayed in its wars, and here history has 
 been sufficiently busy ; indeed, the wars of the human race have been re- 
 corded when the memory of every thing else has perished. But still we 
 have another life besides outward action ; and it is the inward life, after 
 all, which determines the character of the actions and of the man ; — and 
 it is so with a nation. We honour heroism shown in accomplishing the 
 external acts of a state ; but power, nay, even existence, are not ultimate 
 ends. The question may be asked of every created being, why he 
 should live at all % and no satisfactory answer can be given, if his life 
 does not, by doing God's will, consciously or unconsciously, tend to 
 God's glory and to the good of his brethren. And without a worthy 
 purpose, without a high principle, a nation's fame will become its 
 reproach." 
 
16B 
 
 Not as yet, not up to this our day, is there one case 
 before the world of a high-principled people acting under 
 a high-principled government. Expediency is the uni- 
 versal guide of all great bodies, whether great in num- 
 bers or great in station. But to continue : — 
 
 " Turning then to regard the inner life of a nation, we cannot but see 
 it is determined by the nature of its ultimate end. It does not seem 
 easy to coneeive that a nation can have any other object than that 
 which is the highest object of every individual in it ; if it can, then the 
 attribute of sovereignty becomes the dominion of an impure principle. 
 For if a nation sacrifices to a lesser benefit a greater benefit — if, for in- 
 stance, it is less cognizant of the principles of justice and humanity, than 
 of wealth, dominion, or even security, it then follows, that the power is 
 immoral ; and if immoral, and yet commanding the actions of moral 
 beings, then evil. But if it be cognizant of high principles, and appre- 
 ciate them worthily, then it sees they are more to be followed than 
 any objects of outward advantage ; then it acknowledges moral ends as 
 a higher good than physical ends, and thus, as we said, agrees with every 
 individual man in his estimate of the highest object of national, no less 
 than of individual life." 
 
 Although this passage, and the following, are travelling 
 a little away from history as it is, to what history should 
 be, it is so excellent in itself and offers so fine a 
 lesson, not only to our governments; but to every indivi- 
 dual man, as to urge me to transcribe them for your 
 edification. 
 
 " The great end of government should be the promoting and securing 
 a nation's highest happiness. We can only express it in its most general 
 formula ; under the most favourable circumstances, this same end is 
 conceived, and expressed, purely as the setting forth God's glory by 
 doing His appointed work. And that work seems to imply, not only 
 the greatest possible perfecting of the natures of its individual members, 
 but also the perfecting of all those acts which are done by the nation 
 collectively, or by the government standing in its place and faithfully 
 representing it. It has, indeed, duties to perform of a very different sort 
 from ordinary wars, even when justifiable ; for every single state is but 
 a member of a greater body, that is of the great body of organized 
 states throughout the world, and still farther, of the universal family of 
 mankind, and that it is a member of both according to the will of 
 God." 
 
 And then he gives the portrait of what history should 
 
164 
 
 be, — leaving the question still open, whether or not his- 
 tory is so written. 
 
 " Perfection in outward life is the fruit of perfection in the life within 
 us. The history then of a nation's internal life is the history of its insti- 
 tutions, of its laws. . . Here then, in the institutions and legislation of 
 a country — the principles and rules influencing the powers of its internal 
 life, we have one of the noblest subjects of history. 
 
 " I have said enough, I think, to show that history contains no mean 
 treasures ; that, as being the biography of a nation, it partakes of the 
 richness and variety of those elements which make up a nation's life- 
 Whatever there is of greatness in the final cause of all human thought 
 and action— God's glory and man's perfection — that is the measure of 
 the greatness of history. Whatever there is of variety and intensity of 
 interest in human nature — in its elevation, whether proud as by nature, 
 or sanctified as by God's grace — in its suffering, whether blessed or un- 
 blessed, a martyrdom or a judgment— in its strange reverses, in its 
 varied adventures — in its yet more varied powers, its courage and pa- 
 tience, its "genius and wisdom, its justice and love, — that also is the 
 measure of the interest and variety of history." 
 
 Surely this a master's summary — if indeed I have 
 been able to give you any good idea of what is contained 
 in 20 pages. This is looking philosophically and with 
 useful common sense at history — at man's deeds. But 
 does extant history so delineate the nation's progress ? 
 The only attempt — the nearest to a successful attempt 
 that I remember, is Thierry's "History of the Norman 
 Conquest," which is every way delightful and instruc- 
 tive. 
 
 Arnold's review of our early history is excellent. 
 
 " It clearly begins with the coming in of the Saxons. The Britons 
 and Romans had lived in our country, but they are not our fathers. We 
 are connected with them as men indeed ; but, nationally speaking, the 
 history of Ceesars invasion has no more to do with us, than the natural 
 history of the animals which then inhabited our forests. We — this great 
 English nation, whose race and language are now overrunning the earth, 
 from one end to the other, — we were born when the ' White Horse ' of 
 the Saxons had established its dominion from the Tweed to the Tamar. 
 So far as we can trace our blood, our language, the name and actual 
 divisions of our country, and the beginnings of some of our institu- 
 tions ; so far our national identity extends, so far history is modern , 
 for it treats of life which was living then, and is not yet extinguished. 
 
165 
 
 44 Modern history exhibits a fuller development of the human race, 
 and a wider combination of its most remarkable circumstances and ele- 
 ments. We ourselves are one of the most remarkable examples of 
 this. We derive scarcely one drop of our blood from Roman fathers — we 
 are in our race strangers to Greece, and strangers to Israel ; but morally, 
 how much do we derive from all three ? In this respect, their life is in 
 a manner continued in ours, — to say the least, their influences have not 
 perished. 
 
 " If we consider the Roman empire in the fourth century of the 
 Christian era, we shall find in it Christianity — we shall find in it all 
 the intellectual treasures of Greece — all the social and political wisdom 
 of Rome. For the last 1800 years, Greece has fed the human intellect ; 
 Rome, taught by Greece, and improving upon the teacher, has been the 
 source of law and government and social civilization ; — and what neither 
 Greece nor Rome could furnish (the perfection of moral and spiritual 
 truth) has been given by Christianity." 
 
 But, not to tire you now, adieu ! 
 
 XCIX. 
 
 ^Sandgate, July 3, 1845. 
 
 Your congregation of P Saints would doubtless 
 
 have been more pleased with your clergyman if he had 
 preached upon something to believe, instead of directing 
 them to a work of generous aid for their fellow-creatures. 
 Nevertheless, there is great caution necessary in giving 
 away money : " Liberality does not consist in giving 
 largely, but in giving wisely." Perhaps a clergyman is 
 not the best judge of this difference. I am much more 
 pleased to hear an address for the benefit of the Home 
 Missionary Society — for the thousands of our own neg- 
 lected people — than for the Foreign Missionary Society. 
 
 If you pray that your prejudices may be removed and 
 your mind enlarged, you are becoming enlightened ; the 
 re-action of such a prayer is measured by its sincere 
 pleading. That expression, however, " God forbid I 
 should be a bigot ! " — that very expression is sadly indi- 
 cative of your being one ; it holds upon another principle, 
 the pharisaical one : — it is always in the mouths of the 
 bigots. 
 
 Religion is mercy, and justice, and love — not in words, 
 perhaps even not in deeds, at least, according to the 
 
166 
 
 measure of them, but in principle, in the motive power 
 of the mind, significantly called " a new birth." When 
 you feel anger, and still more, contempt for another, you 
 are irreligious — a sinner against your soul, hurting your- 
 self. When a person offends you, be wise enough to 
 grieve for poor humanity, rather than be angry with the 
 man. Always fear your own likelihood to be wrong, 
 rather than be hurried to believe another so. This is that 
 humility that Christ so emphatically taught. 
 
 I remember something of a passage in the " Life of 
 Bruce," between him and a beautiful and religious 
 woman of Abyssinia, who held some extreme doctrines 
 of the Catholic Church. When Bruce was expostulating 
 with her, or rather, pushing her opinions to an extreme, 
 to show their absurdity, she replied, " Well, but the 
 danger is in not believing enough ; the safety is, in believ- 
 ing too much ; for God is merciful to the trusting heart." 
 This kind of answer always puzzles me, though I see 
 that it admits any absurdity, any monstrous belief. 
 Mahomet's doctrine is as easily reconciled to the mind 
 as any other by this fashion. If you will not bring the 
 dogma to the test within man, or before man's intelli- 
 gence— What is right? What is wrong? -—horn are 
 these things to be discovered ? 
 
 I suppose all men know the origin of rank : sometimes 
 it was deserved, and as often it was not. But for their 
 descendants to claim power because of the accident of 
 birth, is a futility with the thoughtful. The moral and 
 general education of rank is Kile only right claim to 
 superiority ; and when these things are developed 
 together, then the position is a good and useful support 
 for enlightened power over all ranks. It acts beneficially 
 by being honoured; and hurtfully, when joined by 
 moral degradation — when dishonoured. Your wrench- 
 ers-off of door knockers are entitled to nothing but the 
 contempt of the community. 
 
 Thank you for giving me the author of " Sam Slick." 
 It explains the book pertinently. He is not only a witty 
 man, but a good political and social economist ; on that 
 account I readily excuse his Toryism. Certainly there 
 is no great wonder in any man — any Englishman at 
 least — being a Tory in America. No tyranny is so vile 
 
167 
 
 as the tyranny of a mob. If one is to be cozened, why, 
 let it be by gentlemen ! 
 
 The hard-working old wifey has nearly finished her 
 job of furnishing, and begins to eat her meals quietly. 
 She grumbles, though, at twopence a pound for new pota- 
 toes, and will not consent to add a pudding to such a feast. 
 Poor old dear ! You may depend upon it, that to divide 
 a decent income by eleven, makes a kind of foolish re- 
 mainder; and that is always before her loving eyes. 
 And then the sea makes the children voracious ; a half- 
 peck loaf just goes round for breakfast. " Bless your 
 appetites'/' she says, when they open their beaks for 
 more. 
 
 We have had sad weather since we have been here, 
 but to-day is full of smiles and tears. How pleasant it 
 is to look upon the distant sky, and see the coming 
 shower. The reflection of the clouds on the water 
 awakens many varied feelings, all interesting in appli- 
 cation to man's checquered existence. 
 
 There is a glorious bay here — extensive, and yet shut 
 in by land apparently all round. The white cliffs of 
 Cape Griz Nez are quite distinctly seen now, and that 
 coast trending away nearly to Havre. Dungeness Point 
 seems to join on to the coast of France; and then the 
 Shakspeare Cliff bounds in the opposite side of the bay. 
 Look now, there are the children, 200 feet immediately 
 below me, screaming with delight in assaulting the sea, 
 and getting ready a tremendous appetite for dinner. 
 Pleasant things all these, and hopeful too, if man would 
 but be simple and generous. The affairs of life are 
 miserably misunderstood. 
 
 I have just been witnessing the launch of a pleasure 
 boat. It is the first time I have seen any thing of the 
 sort, and, like poor Jacques, I have been moralizing 
 thereon. It seems so like a fair one's launch into marriage, 
 such negative power, such a yielding for all chances; so 
 trim she looks, so pretty a play-thing; and bows and 
 nods so generously to her affianced, as if they had 
 formed a loving bond for eve?' ; — never thinking of the 
 rough usage of stormy days, and how that the mixed 
 elements of life act upon him that holds her in his arms, 
 making him occasionally wayward and passionate. Lo ! 
 
168 
 
 she and her master went straightway to France to buy 
 hooks and lines to fish with — a sort of fancy trade, to 
 while away the pleasant days. 
 
 C. 
 
 Sandgate, July 8, 1845. 
 
 No, I do not desire that all history should be a picture 
 of what is simply useful to man. I ask only that the 
 main design should be for the guidance of the people — 
 that they may profit by the experience of life. I love the 
 stirring scene ; but then I love to see its application to 
 us. I love to see mad ambition represented as mad am- 
 bition; wild tyranny over the social condition denounced ; 
 and that a people — the ordinary classes — should go for 
 something; and that their guidance, for the benefit of 
 every individual, should be held as most important. Of 
 this we see too little in history ; and yet their position 
 requires the same enlightened judgment, the same mas- 
 ter's hand to deal with them wisely, as would deal with 
 the choicest and most brilliant actions of the high-born. 
 They are, as is the base of a pyramid to its apex. 
 
 I want to see, in this " biography of a society," some 
 notice taken of the lower strata — for they tell of the 
 fixity of a people ; they exhibit national character, and 
 national resources too. Your opinion, that " the great 
 charm of history is in the gratification of a laudable 
 curiosity," is true, if we understand the same thing of 
 laudable curiosity. I think "the charm of history" 
 should be like the accomplishments of a woman, — sub- 
 servient always to her social advantage, to her emphatic 
 action on man's life. 
 
 f think you misunderstand my idea of Essays. An 
 Essay is more properly a disquisition than a detail. A 
 hundred essays won't form a history ; though one of 
 Macaulay's will throw more light upon a period of history 
 than any ten chapters of Hume. But I beg pardon: — 
 writing in this manner is only copying from Arnold's 
 authority. I wish you to read his lectures. I hardly 
 know how far " he has made a convert of me," for I never 
 differed from him. I was only ignorant ; but perhaps 
 you mean, his views have made mine. 
 
169 
 
 Contempt of others perverts and damages your own 
 judgment. We are blind just in proportion as we are 
 hasty and passionate, and as we think ourselves better 
 than others ; for we may rest satisfied that we have 
 abundance of weak points, quite as open to great error, 
 and as anomalous to other's views. I have to con- 
 fess, however, that while counselling you, I remain 
 very like that strange clergyman, who preached so 
 well, and acted so queerly. " Parson," said one of his 
 simple parishioners to him, "how is it that you tell us 
 to do what you do not do yourself?" "Oh! replied 
 the parson, " damn the lantern ! you follow the light : 
 — our way is in the dark !" 
 
 By the bye, I am a good father confessor, at least 
 in the sense of being forgiving. I rather like your 
 confession of laziness; you, at least, know how to enjoy 
 having nothing to do, which is a profound secret to one 
 half of the world. My wife is your " per contra;" she 
 loves her labour, and can do more work than any other 
 woman I know, and that not by bustling, but by knowing 
 the true economy of labour — the doing at the right 
 time and by patient assiduity. Not for nothing has she 
 had fifteen children ! 
 
 I like that way of yours, in meeting with bold assertion, 
 "Give me an example; how do you prove it?" I often 
 adopt your plan ; and one of my friends meets the ques- 
 tion in this pertinent manner : " Sir, thai is my impres- 
 sion ; I have gathered it from various facts, but I keep 
 no record of particular instruction. I am content with 
 growth, with accumulation ; the roots of my knowledge 
 J am somewhat careless of, and am not anxious to ex- 
 hibit them to you — I am not a Cyclopedia/' However, 
 if you had lived soon after the Norman conquest, and had 
 been a Saxon of rank, you would easily have found the 
 analogy between a name and a deed. Pray, how much 
 power has the very name of Saxon in Ireland ; and if 
 you would personify tyranny there, how would you give 
 it a devil's cognomen ? 
 
 When Norman power was exerted upon the Saxon, 
 how could it be named but by tyranny ? The nation 
 was anomalous, had no unity of purpose. It is not diffi- 
 cult to point to where the Celt is repeating, with the same 
 
170 
 
 reason, our malediction upon the Norman people. We 
 have conquered the Celt, not for joint benefit, for one 
 national purpose, but to cheat them of their inheritance. 
 
 I think highly of the United States. As a people, they 
 have — perhaps without knowing it fully — an enlightened 
 purpose for the family of man. Individually, I do not 
 know enough of them, to judge correctly; but, so far as 
 my informed idea goes, I do not like them ; and parti- 
 cularly I dislike their popular oratory — not so much for 
 its style as for its sentiment. Nevertheless, that people 
 will govern more of the earth than any other nation ever 
 did, and, as I believe, govern it better. 
 
 Its industry is profound — I use the word thoughtfully. 
 It is the best base of all energy — of physical and moral 
 courage. The vulgar self-estimation is a surface stain, 
 that education (man's education) will wear off. Their 
 government is susceptible of the same improvement ; as 
 yet it is a boy's energy, but growing, and constitutionally 
 good. We are as old men in experience ; they are as 
 boys. But the enduring prospect is also comparative ; 
 we are finishing our course, and they are beginning their's, 
 though doubtless our's is as yet a hale old age. 
 
 I wish I could persuade that inconsequent head of 
 your's to use the word radical in its true sense. A radical 
 is not a man to destroy, but to cleanse thoroughly ; he 
 would not change the constitution, but rip away the fun- 
 gus growing upon it ; he would restore things to their 
 true intent and great design. I love the constitution of 
 England so much as to be a Radical ! And I like also 
 the republican form of America so much as to desire to 
 see the mob power and the domestic tyranny destroyed, 
 and in the places thereof arise a wholesome and moderate, 
 but emphatic expression of the public opinion. Both 
 these conditions of society — this kingly form and re- 
 publican form — may exist and act wisely, not only for 
 each nation, but for the family of man. The frame and 
 working power of both constitutions are good ; but the 
 men in power, by pandering to the low feelings of the 
 mob in the one case, and by forgetting the homely neces- 
 sities of the common people in the other case, create an 
 injury in both countries. They equally need a radical 
 reform ! 
 
171 
 
 America is a greater national wonder than Rome or 
 England. It acts over a larger surface, and produces 
 better results for the common people. Public ambition 
 and individual welfare go hand in hand. This is the 
 thing to be wondered at, most unfortunately, for it should 
 be the common guide of life. 
 
 I asked several questions of you in my three or four 
 last letters, to which the answers are, Nil : however, Nil 
 desperandum, say I. In time you will become more 
 generous, if not more industrious. Cannot you be pro- 
 voked by my diligence in replying faithfully to you ? 
 
 There are no persons enjoy the sea-side like a good cock- 
 ney. We have a family of well-informed people as next- 
 door neighbours, and they make the beach their drawing- 
 room. (You know this village is small, and uncommonly 
 quiet.) Their garden runs down to the beach; and on 
 the beach the whole family repose as on sofas, and as 
 freely as in their house-privacy. On Sunday evening I 
 saw this family knot (I like the word) seated there, and 
 reading the Evening Service. Where was there a better 
 temple ? 
 
 CI. 
 
 Sandgate, July 10, 1845. 1 
 That is a smart article in the Times of Monday, against 
 the ministers, and against the linen-drapers: I hardly 
 know which will wince the most under the castigation. 
 I am much inclined to believe the writer one of our fra- 
 ternity, so graphically has he set forth our particular 
 skill — our professional finesse ! It is really no caricature. 
 " Remnant-making for accommodation " — "Goods label- 
 led for guidance, as a compliment." — "Bankrupt's stock" 
 — " Soiled goods to be sold cheap, on account of exten- 
 sive alterations" — (i Last year's patterns at a great reduc- 
 tion "— " This lot of fine Irish must be cleared off," &c. &c. 
 Why, I have written the words hundreds of times, and 
 with much the same impulse as Sir Robert has explained 
 his intention of dealing with " the remainder stock on 
 hand " — deuced glad to get rid of them ! 
 
 Tell me why it is, so many people like to have a hit at 
 the linendrapers, more than at any other class of trades- 
 
172 
 
 men. Of the jewellers and grocers — the supposed ranks 
 above and below them — they say nothing ; and even the 
 tailors seem now to go free. No one now talks of nine 
 tailors making a man ; perhaps though, because they 
 have valiantly fought their way into consideration — they 
 are said to be the most pugnacious of any class, and 
 clever in the process. 
 
 I don't very well understand this, excepting it be ano- 
 ther fulfilment of Heber's theory, — that bad imitation 
 is contemptible, — linen-drapers being supposed not very 
 capital gentlemen physically, and perhaps morally also. 
 However, under my general and broad way — sweeping, 
 and not precise— of looking at things and effects, there 
 is no great difference between one man and another, ex- 
 cepting in mere manner, and that skin-deep ; but, of 
 course, " I speak with a prejudice." 
 
 But let me lead you elsewhere — to Arnold's Lecture 
 u On Government as connected with Religion." 
 
 " One party says," (T abbreviate his words) " the great object of a state 
 is, to promote and propagate religious truth ; another, that the moral 
 teaching should have precedence of the physical ; and another, that the 
 great object should be, the preservation of body and goods. But why 
 may not these things be intermixed, all being under the guidance of 
 high principle ? " 
 
 Afterwards he says, — 
 
 " Unfortunately we substitute terms for deeds ; religious truth does 
 not always mean man's highest perfection. More often we understand 
 certain dogmatical propositions ; these we connect with a certain creed, 
 and a certain sect of the church ; and then the theory comes to be, that 
 the great object of a state is, to uphold some particular church. . . All 
 societies of men should make their bond to consist in a common object 
 and a common practice, rather than in a common belief. We map con- 
 sent to act together, but we cannot consent to believe together." 
 
 And again, — 
 
 " In a corrupt state, the government and the people are at variance ; 
 in a perfect state they would be wholly one ; in ordinal states, they are 
 one. more or less perfectly. We need not be afraid to say, that in a 
 perfect state the law of the government would be the law of the people. 
 If it be wholly or greatly unwelcome to them, something in that state 
 is greatly wrong. . . A dictatorship may be useful for a barbarian people; 
 
173 
 
 but in an enlightened country, public opinion must have power in pro- 
 portion as public opinion is enlightened." 
 
 And how full of common sense, how expressive of the 
 great mind, is the following passage ! — 
 
 a A state may impose the law of Christianity, as it may impose any 
 other law, — as a moral guide to a physical end. It may indeed set up 
 efficient Christian institutions for education, &c. ; but the confession of 
 faith should be the most general,— a mere test of membership, and as 
 dealing with the highest points of man's practical character. . . Indeed, 
 intellectual objections to Christianity should be tolerated, where they 
 are combined with moral obedience. A corrupt or disorganised church 
 with a minute creed is an abomination. Instead of requiring a new 
 declaration of belief, a state should require a promise of obedience. . . . 
 The church has to do with the soul of man, the state with the organized 
 body : the perfection of guidance would be, where these powers should 
 aid one another in a separate and combined harmony. ... In a state, 
 Christianity is a moral law ; in a church, a spiritual principle." 
 
 But what will the Catholics say to this condemnation ? — 
 
 " Under a state of general ignorance in religious dogmas, a Papal 
 power is useful for uniformity of persuasion. But as the Christian knows 
 his privileges and his duties, the power of the Pope declines in usefulness. 
 And when that power was urged as one of divine right for all times and 
 circumstances, it became an impertinence and an obstruction to truth 
 and goodness. . . . This inattention to altered circumstances is a 
 fault of most universal application in all political questions. It is 
 seated in human nature, being in fact no other than an exemplification 
 of the force of habit. Our early kings were a tyranny ; and yet we 
 continue to cry out against the Crown, after the king has been shackled 
 hand and foot ; and to express the dread of popular violence, long after 
 that violence was exhausted."— And so on. 
 
 How this must siartle some of our orthodox divines ! — 
 
 " I shall not, I trust, be suspected of desiring to bring forward a start- 
 ling paradox, in speaking of Christianity, when saying, the word Church 
 is rather distinct from Religion than synonimous with it. It is so often 
 made more a political engine than a spiritual one ; it is a governance of 
 man for ambitious purposes, rather than a direction according to God's 
 ordinance." 
 
 Of representative government he says, — 
 " The greater or less importance of a representative assembly is like 
 the quicksilver in a barometer ; it rises or falls according to causes 
 
 I 
 
174 
 
 external to itself, and is but an index, exhibited in a palpable form, of 
 the more or less powerful pressure of the popular atmosphere. The 
 House of Commons grew naturally in importance in the 17th century, 
 because they began more clearly to speak the voice of the nation." 
 
 And then he exhibits the course and change of our 
 government in strict relation with the enlightenment of 
 our people. 
 
 OIL 
 
 Sandgate, July 15, 1845. 
 
 I and the boys have just been out fishing, and have 
 caught enough for dinner, so that's some compensation to 
 the wifey. This morning there has passed close in shore 
 here a shoal of very large porpoises, which an old sailor 
 told me are sea-cows, and not porpoises. I saw thirty, I 
 should think, and they seemed 15 feet long; they bad a 
 large fin on the back, which the regular porpoise has 
 not, I believe. What beautiful swimmers they are ! they 
 have such a supple power in the water, so like our river 
 otters, in turning and doubling backwards. These fish are 
 great strangers on our coast, I am told. 
 
 What do you mean'by calling me a Proteus ? What 
 shapes do I assume ? Don't you yet know, that man is 
 a complex animal ; having indeed a main direction, but 
 diverging into odd and queer ways at times, for recreation, 
 or for fun ? Am I to be denied the hilarity of youth, 
 because I have, here and there, a grey hair impertinently 
 sticking itself up ? I am no particular lover of uniformity 
 after the external fashion of the Quakers. I love to 
 laugh, and I love a bit of grief too. The sunshine is 
 none the worse for a little stormy weather. To judge of 
 me by some few things I say, would be like judging of 
 Nature by the storm, or by the burning sun : — you must 
 comprehend the whole, or you can know little of either. 
 A correspondence of this kind has no design of exhibit- 
 ing me in full dress as for a ceremonial visit, nor the 
 desire of conveying to you some particular teaching ; 
 but simply to show how things pass through my mind — 
 how the mind infers and deduces— and for the benefit, on 
 both sides, of seeing the mere simple operation of facts 
 upon characters and habits so essentially different as 
 woman and man. 
 
175 
 
 Now there is this oddity about me *. I can accomplish 
 the ordinary business of my trade easily, without any 
 severe effort, or any necessity of being uninterrupted ; 
 but to sit down to write, or to read, or to think, for mental 
 improvement or recreation, I must not only be alone, but 
 remain undisturbed by speech of any one for hours. I 
 can go into a calculation in the counting-house, or write 
 the ordinary letters of business, and suffer no incon- 
 venience from any disturbance ; but if I attempt to look 
 into another's secret chamber, or examine or exhibit my 
 own, then I must have perfect seclusion. I cannot convey 
 to you, what a breaking down of the sense it is, to be 
 spoken to in these circumstances. Perhaps it would not be 
 very extravagant to say, I feel disembodied in my musings, 
 or at least another being; as if I kept one for ordinary 
 life, and another for the exercise of the spirit. You will 
 say, I am fastidious here, and cultivate a fanciful ab- 
 straction, almost ridiculous as an enjoyment, but laugh- 
 able enough if one is to look at the result. 
 
 A brother of mine was talking to me the other day 
 about anxiety and precision in business, of which par- 
 ticulars he is indeed a good example. " It makes me ill," 
 he said, " to see daudling and inefficient labour — a kind 
 of half-business, half-play. I want earnest occupation. 
 Indeed, I hate all half-things: if my harness is not per- 
 fectly cleaned, and even if my horses go fidgety and lose 
 labour, I become angry. You seem to be mortally easy 
 in these particulars," said he, pointing to my turn-out ; 
 " it would disturb me to ride to town in that fashion/' 
 — " Your principle is a good one to set up" I rejoined; 
 "the best should be always sought for. But if you are 
 to be unhappy, to suffer pain, because other people will 
 not render this perfect service but by your punishment, 
 what is your gain ? How will the two sums cast to- 
 gether? I do not like too much dependence upon other 
 people. My plan is, to allow a discount off another 
 man's actions for me — 1 am content to take 25 per 
 cent less than perfection ; and I am more happy with 
 my portion than you are with your whole — l Chacun 
 a son gout.' " 
 
 My brother is a rich man, and says, he feels very 
 much like a poor man. I am a poor man— at least 
 
 i 2 
 
176 
 
 comparatively — and feel, by wanting very little, very 
 much like a rich man ; for which, though, all my friends 
 pity me and my delusion. 
 
 Sometimes, to some of them, T point to the final balance 
 sheet — to that grand production of life, and ask its great 
 benefit, — this accumulation of gold and silver. " Look 
 at your children," I say ; " will they be really more happy 
 for the dole that shall keep them in idleness? are they 
 fitted for this leisure and its temptations?" They cannot 
 help a sigh escaping them when thinking of this fearful 
 usage of their hard-earned— oh ! how anxiously earned 
 — money. If I may give my children useful aid to 
 apply their labour, and instil the high principle of 
 love for their duties in life, and a courageous determi- 
 nation to follow them with simplicity and earnestness, 
 I shall feel my reward is in full measure— " pressed 
 down, and running over." 
 
 CIII, 
 
 July 27, 1845. 
 
 Have you read Napier's " Wild Sports." T got it from 
 the library, and have been much pleased with it. He has 
 a true joyous spirit, and a devoted love to the sport ; 
 it seems to harmonize with his deepest impulses. He 
 is a genuine poet too, in your sense — fond of bright 
 images and sweet words, and full of loving quotation. 
 
 I bought a book the other day, the plan of which 
 J like, called " The Georgian Era." It is in sections, 
 so that you may read of the different orders continuously 
 — i. e. f the royal family, the statesmen, the church, &c. 
 &c. It is a kind of synopsis of newspaper history, and 
 is amusing, by re-opening stirring circumstances one 
 had almost forgotten — some read of, and others seen. 
 
 Poor old George III ! One liked his English character 
 — perhaps not the worse for his obstinate courage; it 
 is a good foundation for a man, if he can but add a 
 sound judgment to it; but "particular people" would 
 then call it the energy of genius, and high-souled pur- 
 pose. There was a strong, but a rough family likeness 
 in the first three Georges ; — they seem very brothers. 
 But the fourth George was a perfect contrast in every 
 
177 
 
 fibre and mode of thinking. Not one seemed to have 
 even a decent share of the ordinary knowledge of English- 
 men— at least, no fit knowledge applying to them. They 
 sought good information in their public deeds; but 
 they failed in the combination of various facts — could 
 not amalgamate and separate political stuff — they failed 
 in judgment. 
 
 " I wonder why the splendid gin-shops attract more 
 custom than the humble ones," said I to my friend 
 
 H , " for it would appear rational that the inference 
 
 should be drawn, that a better article might be provided 
 under less outlay by the landlord. And besides, these 
 gin-drinkers keep little state, why is it they like to asso- 
 ciate themselves with others' state ?" 
 
 " Thank God for it," he replied. " While our degraded 
 people will sacrifice to their ideas of beauty — will love 
 something unconnected with brutal appetite, however 
 tawdry the taste may be, there remains a latent spirit in the 
 mass, a buried fire in our meanest people, that can be 
 acted upon wholesomely for the nation in time of need. 
 It is pleasant to me to see a flower-pot in a cobbler's 
 stall. I love every thing which shadows forth the in- 
 visible spirit, even though it be but a caricature of it. 
 However, not every thing is a caricature which appears 
 so to us," 
 
 CIV. 
 
 July 29,51845. 
 f have before heard of the singularities of the fish- 
 ermen's wives. In the olden time these strong lines of 
 separation were very common ; and indeed remain so 
 among the Jews and the castes of the Orientals. They 
 are all based on the same silly principle. It would be 
 true, however, to say, we have abundance of the same 
 folly in every village of England. As people are 
 benighted, so are they prejudiced — so do all differences 
 strike them as something more than unpleasant, some- 
 thing hateful. These women, though, are not so con- 
 temptible as your Tory and Whig shoe patrons — your 
 sticklers for political notions in the people they dea 
 with, 
 
178 
 
 I think you misunderstand Lord Karnes, about Swift 
 being the last of the burlesque writers. He must have 
 meant the last of that peculiarly coarse but witty kind of 
 satirists. Our present mode is more refined, but still as 
 effective and as merciless. 
 
 I have sometimes thought, that theatres decline, as a 
 taste for reading increases ; and yet France seems at 
 variance with this position. Possibly, fashion has as 
 much to do with it as mental improvement. 
 
 I don't quite like your great modesty and fear in ex- 
 pressing your opinion about the books you read. Every 
 person, as he reads, criticises — agrees or differs freely. 
 Why, then, not express it in your correspondence with 
 me ? In fact, this utterance always gives the author a 
 better chance of being understood ; for you must examine 
 his thoughts mere attentively, and, to exhibit wherein you 
 differ, is oftentimes to find out that there is very little 
 difference between you — at least, I find it so. 
 
 My oldest boy, who has been to business only since 
 Christmas, has been very poorly for the last month. He 
 seemed only disturbed physically, and therefore we 
 thought there was no great cause of fear ; but yesterday 
 paralysis and delirium ensued. Now we greatly fear 
 his illness is fatal. We have been unfortunate enough 
 to lose three other children through some disease of the 
 brain; which experience adds so much to our alarm. 
 But you have troubles enough at home, so I will not 
 add more of our's to them. 
 
 My girls are going to school in a few days, and seem 
 to look forward to the change with much pleasure. They 
 are tired with home governesses, and, like most persons, 
 fancy they shall escape many inconveniences ; and perhaps 
 they will, of one class, but they are sure to find a full 
 crop of equal significance. 
 
 I have a friend in the City who is about leaving his 
 proper business through some things that annoy him, 
 and because he does not have good health. He is 
 turning farmer — having a passion for farming. How 
 deep is that saying, — "Though one should arise from 
 the dead, yet will they not believe." Of all people, "a 
 weather-slave " is the most discontented, has less power 
 over his labour, and is subject to many more adverse 
 
179 
 
 events. What is the reason that a farmer, who depends 
 so much upon a bounteous Providence, who is always 
 drawing on that source for his well-being, is so generally 
 an irreligious man — has so little sense of God's goodness, 
 and gratitude for all his mercies ? Verily, all of us have 
 some prime folly to indulge in, and then we turn round 
 and challenge our fate. 
 
 CV. 
 
 July 31, 1845. 
 
 And so another wonder, another nucleus for mad 
 excitement and speculation, has started up. The " king 
 of the railways " is a meteor, blazoning in wonderful 
 station above us. A few years ago, I am told, he was a 
 linen-draper at York ; and now he has more physical 
 power than any man in the kingdom. He is the first 
 " director" of the wonderful power of locomotion, and 
 acts upon all the commercial interest of the land, which 
 indeed is undergoing a great change. This man can act 
 upon the funds of the country, perhaps as much as the 
 Rothschilds can ; and he has the price of every railway 
 share, at least in some large measure, under his control. 
 Our stock-brokers say, " We ought to change our 
 nomenclature now, for we are rather scrip-brokers than 
 stock-brokers; only about one transaction in twenty 
 has relation to the funds." 
 
 And yet this is wholesome property too, and particularly 
 would be, if it could be kept free from gambling trans- 
 actions. It is the creator of traffic and of industry, the 
 prime agents of the wealth of the country. This iron 
 impulse has more energy over the minds of our people 
 just now than the schoolmaster; — together they may do 
 wonders. 
 
 This Mr. Hudson is a "great fact" upon us, — doing 
 both great good and great harm : the first, by acting on 
 the laudable selfishness of our nature ; and the latter, 
 by creating the wildest hopes to share in his splendid 
 and immense wealth. But he is a corn-law man. 
 
 If he desired to act upon the resources of the country 
 — to develope the latent powers of her people ; if he saw 
 his way as a statesman, he could not fail to see that the 
 
180 
 
 corn laws are acting in a counter spirit to his purpose, for 
 they are a serious check and hindrance to the circula- 
 tion of the traffic of the country ; and by that he must 
 live. I feel sick when I hear persons deprecating our 
 dependence upon foreign people ; for really our national 
 power, as well as our national wealth, depend upon foreign 
 traffic. No person can read the yearly balance-sheet 
 of the nation, and not see this palpable truth. Your 
 friend Sir Robert never talks this nonsense about depend- 
 ence; he confesses only to the great disturbance of an 
 important aristocratic class, and yet hints the direful 
 need of meeting and overcoming it. 
 
 Employment — employment for our people — is the great 
 desideratum : without that, we fall back ; and every step 
 is an accumulated weight upon the freedom and the 
 vitality of the country. Therefore no one thing — no, not 
 even many great things — should be suffered to stand in 
 its way. Without the wide world for our market, our 
 population would starve us. 
 
 CVI. 
 
 August 2, 1845. 
 Without doubt, money-scrapers have strong excitement 
 in their purpose ; have excitement as much like pleasure, 
 being indeed as good as the usual pleasure of three- 
 fourths of the world. They have the good fortuue, also, 
 to love their labour; and this is a prime matter with 
 all mankind, the very secret of success. If they would 
 stop at any given time of the day — if they would release 
 themselves from the strong bent of their design at 
 some hour before exhaustion, and turn then to the hu- 
 manities of the heart, and cultivate them, I should like 
 their fashion amazingly. I find fault only with the 
 complete absorption, head and heart ; and that, to this 
 one fact of money-getting is every event in life referred, 
 and the goodness of every thought. They worship with 
 a devotion and with a singleness of purpose, worthy of 
 imitation in degree even to the saints. Love even, 
 though perhaps more passionate, is not to be compared 
 in endurance and constancy. I do believe some of my 
 friends would think humbly of an angel that did not like 
 money \ 
 
181 
 
 Your love of money is an impure offering at their 
 shrine ; they would scout you as a false worshipper, as a 
 defiler of their sanctum. Love to spend money as well 
 as get it together, indeed ! out upon such impurity ! 
 
 Lord Kames is correct, and so are you also, about 
 education, although you appear to differ so widely. He 
 argues from the base of man's determined neglect of his 
 own improvement ; and you argue from the reasonable 
 creature who would be glad to be improved. Of course 
 the results would be wide apart. It is necessary to 
 observe carefully the foundation of a man's argument — 
 where he starts from, then you see the true bearing of 
 the superstructure. 
 
 The Tower of Babel is a beautiful allegory. Men's 
 ambitious passions then began to jostle, to get turbulent 
 in their struggle for mastery. In attempting a plan for 
 national grandeur, the Tories and the Whigs of old fell 
 out, and they divided. As they separated, and as their 
 new habits acted upon them, in that measure new modes 
 of speech, new figures of allusion, and new forms of rea- 
 soning ensued — almost as we see the same effect in our 
 own counties. Language is more true by the latent sense 
 than by the apparent sense. The same words do not con- 
 vey the same sense to two isolated people. Kames says, 
 " What guides the manner of a people's expression is 
 strongly portraitive of that people's genius." Therefore 
 it follows, there must be an essential difference in the 
 manner of utterance. We do not enough understand 
 this, when judging of Oriental literature. What was 
 related as fact was meant, a thousand times, as the 
 symbol of a fact. I think the Orientals would laugh at 
 our literal understanding— at least, feel as much surprised 
 at it, as they would, if we proceeded to take possession 
 of their houses after they so generously offer to give 
 them to us. 
 
 The Inquisition, another Tower of Babel, acts also in- 
 directly, stronger than directly ; it makes people fear the 
 issue of thinking, which is enough to kill all knowledge, 
 at least to prevent all progress in knowledge. 
 
 I think Lord Kames wrong about riches, " that they 
 enervate the man, and turn him into a coward." They 
 misdirect his faculties, and often turn his caution into 
 i 5 
 
182 
 
 fear, on many subjects, no doubt : but a genuine money- 
 getter is a bold, calculating, enterprising, and most in- 
 dustrious man. These are qualities the very contrary of 
 a coward nature. England is the richest nation indivi- 
 dually as well as collectively ; how is she enervated or 
 cowardly? 
 
 Adam Smith says, " Riches make the expression of 
 labour ; and labour is a country's wealth. Money is 
 not the substance of wealth, but its spirit in speech — it is 
 the utterance of intercourse—the nomenclature of the 
 value of things." To love money therefore, without 
 looking to what it represents, is a sheer folly ; if so, then 
 the labour of our fellow beings — the command we have 
 of it — "enervates the man, and turns him into a cow- 
 ard ;" the absurdity of which is very glaring. 
 
 Spain was always in a false position as to riches. Her 
 energies to gain them were misdirected — because a rob- 
 bery of another people. But even by that base accumu- 
 lation they were not enervated individually : their base 
 government enervated them as a people. They are no 
 better as a political body now they are poor, than when 
 they were rich, nor more courageous individually. To 
 say, "A poor people is a courageous brotherhood," is 
 saying very little. What people would you hold up as 
 a good example ? Are they better as a social body — more 
 happy, less oppressed, and in a better position to repel 
 foreign trespassers ? 
 
 Poverty is the fruit of a trammelled industry and 
 laziness; and no nation, or person either, can be happy 
 and lazy too. But then, the best result of industry is not 
 money-getting ; nor the best result of labour, delving and 
 spinning. The great thing, the great fact is, the occu- 
 pation of man according to his ability, and the fit sus- 
 tenance of every one of the human family. 
 
 CVII. 
 
 August -i, 1845. 
 
 If I have conveyed to you the impression, that I feared 
 
 you would not sympathise with us in our grief, then have 
 
 I spoken carelessly. Nevertheless it must be said, that we 
 
 ought to be cautious of telling our troubles — we are so 
 
■STT ■ TTTm 
 
 183 
 
 likely to become tiresome in this particular. One indeed 
 requires some knowledge of persons, some kind of inti- 
 macy, to feel any lively sorrow for them. My poor boy 
 is unknown to you. How expressive is that old saying, 
 " Grief lies heavy at the heart." How desolating seems 
 the first shock of certain separation ! and yet, thank God, 
 grief never overwhelms a healthy intelligence: there 
 seems provision made for any extent of trouble, and for 
 every time of bewailing. Even for a day, every thought 
 is not unhappy, excepting to the wilfully distressed, 
 Hope and peace will again cheer us, arid particularly if 
 unconnected with our own sin or folly. 
 
 Since writing to you, George has had a relapse — he is 
 now in imminent danger. Our hope is gone; but even 
 already the great shock of separation seems over — we 
 seem to know the termination and extent of our grief, 
 and that is always a comfort. The poor mother is really 
 a noble sufferer : there's no lamentation and complaint — 
 no running down life, and all life's objects, as if in hateful 
 ingratitude to God's providence. Though she weeps, 
 she trusts in God's mercy — though her heart is full of 
 grief, she believes all is for the best. Not for a moment 
 is she unfitted for her duty, neglectful of the poor boy's 
 necessities, or of those of any other of her children. 
 Her wise activity is sure of its reward. 
 
 CVIII. 
 
 August 11, 1845. 
 
 I wrote you two or three words of the death of our 
 son, on the 5th. Poor lad ! already he is deposited in 
 the last resting-place of humanity. And already the 
 poor heart is forgetting the keenness of grief, and settling 
 into a gentle sorrow, that has even consolation mixed in 
 it. His escape of defilement seems of this class, and we 
 fancy we see him on his way to heaven. 
 
 Yesterday I heard an excellent sermon, on man's 
 well-doing. This young clergyman said, " Religion is 
 sanctity in action;" he exhibited the sanctity as God's 
 — the action as man's ; just as the life in man is God's, 
 and the actions of life belong to the man. This I think 
 a good definition of the Holy Spirit within us — of the 
 need of principle to guide us. 
 
184 
 
 Those prayers of our church, how they soothe the soul. 
 How rich and simple they are ! how they accord with 
 the inward wants, and fears, and hopes ! how they seem 
 to awaken and to expand the solemnities of our mysterious 
 nature ! Within us there seems a being not formed- -in 
 some embryo state — whose throes for deliverance and for 
 utterance give warning of some great design or mighty 
 event. This life cannot be the end of it. 
 
 In the evening we had another good sermon, from our 
 regular minister, from the words of St. Paul, " Ye are 
 the epistle of Christ to the world : " from which he 
 drew some good counsel and excellent warning, so to 
 conduct ourselves as to honour that saying. " Of you," 
 he said, " the world judges of religion ; they make you 
 the hand-writing of Christianity. You are responsible 
 therefore, not only for your own guidance, but for other 
 men's guidance also." There is some excellent teaching 
 in this definition. 
 
 Has it ever struck you, that no great purpose was ever 
 accomplished, whether by statesman, soldier, or scholar, 
 unless his anxiety was confined to the means, and he had 
 no great anxiety about the result ? The general must 
 say, " Death may suddenly cut me off — I may be cut off 
 long before the end of the war, but I will use the means 
 as if the end were accomplishing for me, and without 
 fear of victory, whoever may reap its laurels. I must 
 act for the army, and forget my individuality." So also 
 the religious man must act, standing by the principle of 
 sanctity, and trusting the success to an overruling Pro- 
 vidence, who alone orders the end of all things. This I 
 think the true definition of " faith without works." 
 
 CIX. 
 
 August 16, 1845. 
 Have yon read Channing's beautiful Essay on Milton? 
 Such kindred spirits only can portray the divine thoughts 
 in man. He says of Milton, — 
 
 " Accumulated knowledge never smothered his genius. He was con- 
 scious of that within him, which could quicken all knowledge — which 
 could give freshness to old truths— which could bind together by living 
 ties and mysterious affinities the most remote discoveries, and rear fabric* 
 
185 
 
 of glory and beauty from the rude materials which other minds had col- 
 lected. Great minds were every where his kindred Such a mind 
 
 is in its own nature diffusive. Its object is the universe, which is bound 
 together by infinite connexions or correspondences. And wherever 
 original power exists, it will see, more and more, common bearings and 
 hidden and beautiful analogies in all the objects of knowledge — will see 
 mutual light shed from truth to truth— and will compel, as with a kingly 
 power, whatever it understands, to yield some tribute, or proof, or illus- 
 tration, or splendour, to whatever topic it would unfold. 
 
 " He esteemed poetry in himself as a kind of inspiration, and wrote 
 his great works with somethiug of the conscious dignity of the prophet. 
 No doctrine in itself is more commonly known among Christians than 
 that of man's immortality ; but it is not so generally known, that the 
 germ of his whole future being is now wrapped up in his soul, as the 
 rudiments of the future plant in the seed. As a necessary result of this 
 constitution, the soul, possessed and moved by these mighty though 
 infant energies, is perpetually stretching beyond what is present and 
 visible — struggling against the bounds of its earthly prison-house, and 
 seeking relief and joy in imaginings of unseen and ideal being. He who 
 cannot interpret what we have now said by his own consciousness, wants 
 the key to works of genius." 
 
 And in another place he says, — 
 
 " The effect of a fine poetic spirit is, to reveal the loveliness of nature, 
 to revive the relish of simple pleasures, to keep unquenched the enthu- 
 siasm which warmed the spring-time of our being, to strengthen our 
 interest in human nature, to spread our sympathies over all classes of 
 society, to knit us by new ties with universal being, and, through the 
 brightness of its prophetic visions, to keep faith to lay hold on the future 
 life." 
 
 And so this is poetry! — Yes; but where found among 
 the crowd of poets ? And then he reviews Milton's poetry 
 by this test, and exhibits the proof also. This is criticism 
 by a master's hand. 
 
 And see now, what a noble character he gives to 
 Milton's Whiggery! — 
 
 " Freedom in all its branches and forms was dear to him, but especially 
 freedom of thought and speech, of conscience and worship — freedom to 
 seek, profess, and propagate truth. The liberty of ordinary politicians 
 falls very short of that for which Milton lived and was ready to die. The 
 tyranny which he hated most was that which broke the intellectual and 
 moral power of the community. He felt within himself, that the human 
 mind had a principle of perpetual growth, that it was essentially diffu* 
 
186 
 
 sive, and made for progress. This attachment to a spiritual and refined 
 freedom threw a hue of poetry over politics, and gave a sublime refer- 
 ence to his service of the Commonwealth." 
 
 But, not to tire you with one thing, let me direct your 
 attention to this clay's Times — to one of the leading 
 articles, about the new nervous system of iron and its 
 dependencies, and about the spiritual velocity of wire 
 thought. This you may understand as a commentary 
 upon Milton's idea of the all-grasping intelligence of the 
 mind, when free, and urged to its great expression. 
 
 CX. 
 
 August 17, 1845. 
 
 I long to send you a few more extracts from Chan- 
 ning's Review of Milton and his Works. If they plague 
 you, why — the remedy is in your hands, — you can skip 
 them. 
 
 " e Paradise Lost ' was written — not in prosperity, not in honour — but 
 in disappointment, in what the world calls disgrace. The cause with 
 which he had identified himself had failed. Hi3 friends were scattered ; 
 Liberty was trodden under foot ; and her devoted champion was a by- 
 word among the Royalists. But it is the prerogative of true greatness to 
 glorify itself in adversity, and to meditate and execute vast enterprises in 
 defeat. He solaced himself with great thoughts, with splendid creations, 
 and with a prophetic confidence that he was framing a bond of union 
 with the illustrious of a brighter day. 
 
 " Though sightless, he lived in light; his inward eye ranged through 
 universal nature, and his imagination shed on his intellect brighter 
 beams than the sun's." 
 
 And then his judgment of Johnson's criticism of 
 Milton is very striking, and full of sound sense, and of 
 a high appreciation of the great poet. The remaining 
 part of the critique, or rather of the exhibition of Mil- 
 ton's theology, has surprised me a good deal. He was 
 a Unitarian, as is also Charming — not in the commonly 
 understood sense of the word perhaps, but still holding 
 to the one supreme God. After dealing with this most 
 difficult subject, and dismissing it, he adds — 
 
 u Milton was always disposed, following perhaps too closely some 
 remarkable passages of the Bible, to conceive of the Supreme Being 
 under the form and affections of human nature." 
 
187 
 
 And then follows this enlightened commentary : — 
 " As far as" we give God a material form, we must assign to Him a 
 place, and that place must be a distant one ; and thus we shall remove 
 Him from the soul, which is His' true temple. Besides, a definite form 
 clashes with God's infinity, which is His supreme distinction, and on 
 no account to be obscured ; for, strange as it may appear to those who 
 know not their own nature, this incomprehensible attribute is that which 
 above all things constitutes the correspondence, or adaptation, if we may 
 so speak, of God to the human mind." 
 
 Bat see how Milton defines election : — 
 
 " God's decrees do not encroach on moral liberty ; our agency is the 
 very object decreed and predestined by the Creator. Election is not 
 an arbitrary choice of individuals, but of the class of persons who shall 
 comply with the prescribed forms of salvation ; in other words, it is a 
 conditional, and not an absolute election." 
 
 Channing's comment has great good sense, whether 
 right or wrong — for it must be acknowledged to be above 
 the power of man's comprehension : — 
 
 " This free agency, however questioned and darkened by a host of 
 metaphysicians, is recognised in the common consciousness of every 
 human being. It is involved in all moral judgments and affections, and 
 thus gives to social life its whole interest, whilst it is the chief tie between 
 the soul and its Creator." 
 
 In another place he says, — 
 
 " We have called Milton Anti-Trinitarian. His mind was, however, 
 too independent and universal to narrow itself to human creeds and 
 parties; he could not persuade himself, that our reading of the Scriptures 
 is the ultimate attainment of the human mind, nor our knowledge all 
 that can be learned through the manifestation of Christianity." 
 
 Every day raises my veneration for Christianity — for 
 its benign teaching, and for the holy effect upon the 
 spirit. But then, I confess also, that I think it has been 
 surrounded by much unimportant matter, added by 
 misdirected or feeble minds, who could not comprehend 
 the majesty and simplicity of its silent power. This 
 "epistle to the world" has been soiled in its passage 
 through man's hands; but the original spirit remains,, 
 and can be selected, and kept pure. 
 
188 
 
 CXI. 
 
 August 18, 1845. 
 
 And you think I want rest ; whereas my comfort is 
 in doing something, in turning my mind into other chan- 
 nels. I know well what it is to dwell upon misfortune, 
 how useless and how hurtful to the spirit. I can easily 
 take off my thoughts from my loss. Many persons, to 
 see the man, would say, he thinks little of his trouble, 
 because I make no outward demonstration of it The 
 poor bo}', however, has a record set up in my memory — 
 an enduring monument of the simple and good son — 
 kept for quiet sensibility and loving contemplation. His 
 lot was a happy one. He has left a life, the retrospect 
 of which, after eighty years of possession, cannot give 
 back purer results, nor, upon the whole, greater satis- 
 faction to any one. 
 
 My poor wife feels the bereavement of her eldest boy, 
 not acutely, but deeply. On awaking this morning, she 
 said, " Poor George ! my poor heart can hardly com- 
 prehend his death. Sometimes I think it is a 'dream, 
 some horrible image got into my head. Oh, he looked 
 so healthy, even to the last minute ! — But," she added, 
 as if to assure herself, " he is dead. I wish I could 
 always think of him ; this unconscious recurrence, this 
 confusion of my mind, is really distressing to me — 
 dreadfully so." 
 
 CXII. 
 
 August 23, 1845. 
 By this time — whatever the hopes and expectations of 
 early youth may be — by this time, you cannot help con- 
 fessing, that the victory is to the man, and that your's 
 is a negative power. If he sues earnestly and perse- 
 veringly, the end is certain — success belongs to his man- 
 hood. Nature will have its way: if the solemnity of 
 your feelings be deeply moved, you are— "the wife of 
 his bosom." And if he be a man — if he calculates upon 
 your goodness and companionable qualities chiefly, then 
 " your joy will be full." Any way however, think of 
 him as the being- unto whom vou commit all, and with 
 
1S9 
 
 whom vou must partake of the joys, and also the sorrows 
 of life." 
 
 He will act Upon you, he will make you almost a new 
 creature; pray, never think of your changing him. If 
 you could change his disposition much, he is unworthy 
 of you. Many of his habits you will alter, and you will 
 improve his disposition; but you will change nothing — 
 the man in his essential qualities will remain ; and you 
 must hope only to soften and ameliorate the husband. 
 Look around you, and calculate for nothing better than 
 you see : it is ten thousand times better to find your 
 mistake arising from a too humble rather than a too 
 sanguine reckoning ! 
 
 And so you are proud of the talent of your town for ship- 
 building. One would think from your enthusiastic identi- 
 fication, you were at least a.ship-builder's daughter. Your 
 town-built yacht beat every one at the regatta ! Well, I 
 am glad to see you so innocently delighted. Your descrip- 
 tion of the contest is full of spirit : the effect to me seems 
 marvellous upon a girl — but then I am a land-lubber ! 
 
 I have been scoring many passages in Channing's 
 work to send you, but I fear to be tiresome ; and, if you 
 will not understand how much I do this for my own im- 
 provement, it will seem impertinent also, because you 
 can read as well as I can. There is a heartiness about 
 this man — a freedom and ingenuousness in what he 
 thinks and says, and an eloquence in the array of his 
 expressions, that delight me in no common measure. I 
 admire his sense of justice, his large and manly sense of 
 justice, and his denunciation of all mere expediency. 
 How he scoffs at riches when counteracting honesty; 
 and see how he derides his country's impure love of mere 
 animal progress, and dilates upon the intellectual expan- 
 sion of great purposes in all progress — those purposes 
 and that progress which may benefit the human race 
 throughout the world. 
 
 The review of Fenelon and his works is an excellent 
 production. He loves the man, he loves his labour. 
 The foundation of the man is every way of the right sort ; 
 but the superstructure he examines freely, and perhaps 
 severely, for it is in conflict with his own judgment. 
 Their different position is enough to account for this j 
 
190 
 
 however, it is worthy your careful study, for it goes to 
 the root of man's reason, and man's persuasion without 
 reason, and so examines incidentally the base of the 
 question of all religions, — how far a man may lawfully 
 depart from his comprehension. 
 
 Your ideas of Johnson agree with Channing's ; and 
 this rather surprises me, for he is the hero of all Tories — 
 the king of your faith. What can make you a Tory, I 
 cannot imagine ; for you love the expansion of human 
 intellect, even in the poor ; you hope for man's progress 
 in every good thing ; you are liberal in thought and 
 word and deed, and feel a fellowship with the lowly and 
 the oppressed ; and yet you stick by a class which loves 
 no progress, no change ; which thinks an abuse a less 
 evil than a short inconvenience ; a sinecure, than letting 
 in an active man ; that education tends to disturb 
 thought ; and that blindness to a wrong is wiser than 
 discontent that would remove it. Agitation to you is so 
 vile, that you would prefer to die of plethora. But I 
 remember — " vou were born to it." 
 
 CXIII. 
 
 August 24, 1845. 
 
 In Channing's Essay on the Character of Buonaparte, 
 he speaks of Sir Walter Scott's " Life," as a hasty and 
 verbose affair, quite unworthy of his fame. And I think 
 this sentence not only true, but that there is not yet 
 written a good Life of this most extraordinary man. I 
 should like to combine such men as Thierry and Arnold 
 for such a purpose — the one for diligence and graphic 
 power, and the other for his manly philosophy and 
 justice. 
 
 I admire this condemnation : Channing says, — 
 
 " The character of the man is not viewed as it should be. The 
 greatest crime against society is that of spoiling it of its rights, and loading 
 it with chains. This never fails to move our deep abhorrence." " We 
 regard freedom " (he says) " as essential to the best interests of human 
 nature, and we look on men who have signalized themselves by their 
 hostility to it, with an indignation at once stern and sorrowful, which no 
 glare of successful war, and no admiration of the crowd, can induce us 
 to suppress." 
 
191 
 
 But see how the philosopher can take in a compre- 
 hensive view of his temptation, and, while denouncing 
 the man, can, in still stronger terms, condemn the general 
 folly and vice :— 
 
 " We must remember, he grew up under disastrous 'influences, in a 
 troubled day, when men's minds were convulsed, old opinions shaken, 
 old restraints snapped asunder. A more dangerous school for the cha- 
 racter cannot be conceived. That all -seeing Being can alone judge to 
 what degree crimes are extenuated by circumstances so inauspicious. But 
 because the turpitude of an evil agent is diminished by infelicities of 
 education or condition, we must not therefore confound the immutable 
 distinctions of right and wrong, and withhold our reprobation from 
 
 atrocities which have spread misery and slavery far and wide It 
 
 is also due to Napoleon to observe, that there has always existed, and 
 still exists, a mournful obtuseness of moral feeling in regard to the crimes 
 of military and political life. Nations have seemed to court aggression 
 and bondage, by their stupid, insane admiration of successful tyrants. . . . 
 The true moral feeling in regard to the crimes of public men is almost 
 to be created." 
 
 " The time for the fall of all despotism, we trust, is coming. It cannot 
 fall too soon. It has long enough wrung from the labourer his hard 
 earnings — long enough squandered a nation's wealth — long enough 
 warred against the freedom of the mind, and arrested the progress of 
 intelligence. It has filled dungeons enough with the brave and good, 
 and shed enough of the blood of patriots ; — let its end come. It cannot 
 Gome too soon." 
 
 But let me try to interest you with a subject more 
 likely to meet with your sympathy, — the life of Fenelon. 
 How much this introduction has fixed itself on my 
 mind : — 
 
 (t The history of Christianity, the most important and sublime theme 
 in the province of literature, has as yet found no writer to do it justice, 
 none to be compared with the great names in civil history. The migh- 
 tiest revolution in the records of our race remains to be worthily told. 
 We doubt indeed, whether the true character, style, and extent of the 
 work which is needed, are as yet comprehended. That the same rigorous 
 impartiality, the same spirit of philosophical research into causes and 
 effects, is to be carried into religious as into civil history, is imperfectly 
 understood. We want to know the influences of Christianity on society, 
 politics, manners, philosophy, and literature ; and the modifications 
 which it has received in return from all these mighty agents." 
 
 " In truth," he 6ays, " a purifying influence has been working for 
 ages in the Christian world in this respect. Our church is unproductive 
 
192 
 
 and barren in theological literature Free action has been denied 
 
 to the mind, and freedom is an essential condition of growth and power 
 If, as we believe, progress be the supreme law of the soul, and the very 
 aim of its creation, then no wrong can be effected on it so grievous as 
 to bend it down everlastingly to a fixed, unvarying creed, especially 
 if this creed was fixed in an age of darkness, and political and religious 
 strife. God, having framed the soul for expansion, has placed it in the 
 midst of an unlimited universe, to receive fresh impulses and impressions 
 without end, and man would sever it from this sublime connexion. The 
 effects are as necessary as they are mournful." 
 
 " The soul owes its best acquisitions to itself. They come to it from 
 glimpses of its own nature, which it cannot trace to human teaching — 
 from the whispers of the Divine voice — from stirrings and aspirations of 
 its own unfolding and unbounded energies, which, if left to act freely, 
 work a mighty revolution within. Religion, by being imposed as a yoke, 
 has subdued the faculties which it was meant to quicken ; and, like all 
 other yokes, it has often excited a mad resistance, which has sought com- 
 pensation for past restraints in licentiousness, and disgraced the holy 
 name of freedom, by attaching it to impiety and shameless excess." 
 
 Of the man Fenelon he says— 
 
 " He was, if not a profound, an original thinker ; though a Catholic, 
 he was essentially free. So little did he confine himself to established 
 notions, that he drew upon himself the censures of the Church. When 
 a man errs by aspiring after a disinterestedness and purity not granted 
 to our present infant state, we almost reverence his errors. They only 
 anticipate and claim too early the good for which man was made." 
 
 (l Fenelon expected too much, was too severe against the failings of 
 man. Human nature merits rebuke ; but whoever considers the sore 
 trials, the thick darkness, the impetuous will, the strong passions, under 
 which man commences his moral probation, will temper rebuke with pity 
 and hope. There is a wisdom, perhaps the rarest and sublimest attain- 
 ment of the intellect, which is at once liberal and severe, indulgent and 
 unbending ; which, at the same time that it asserts the majesty of virtue, 
 strengthens the sense of accountableness, and points upwards, with a 
 never-ceasing importunity, to moral perfection, as the great aim and only 
 happiness of the human soul." 
 
 " We will not say that Fenelon was a stranger to this broad compre- 
 hensive wisdom, but we cannot name it as his chief distinction 
 
 Our author constantly sets before us God as dwelling in the human 
 mind, and dwelling there to reprove its guilt, to kindle a celestial ray 
 in its darkness, and to bow it by a gentle sway to entire subjection to his 
 peace and righteous will. The interest of the Creator in the lost and 
 darkened mind, is the thought which predominates in the writings of 
 this excellent man In what did he suppose the perfection of the 
 
193 
 
 human soul to consist ? His views on this subject may be expressed in 
 two words — self-crucifixion, and love of God. This is his great aim. This 
 he urges in a diversity of forms, as thus : — f to die to ourselves, and to live 
 to God ; ' — ' to renounce our own wills, and to choose the will of God ; ' — 
 * to distrust ourselves, and to put our whole trust in God ; ' — e to surrender 
 our own plans, and to leave all things to God.' Self, he teaches us, 
 is the great, barrier between the soul and its Maker ; and self is to vanish 9 
 its desires, its hopes, trust, and complacency, and God to become all in all. 
 Such is the doctrine of Fenelon ; and it is essentially just." 
 
 And now I should like to show you Channing's defence, 
 or perhaps rather, his condemnation of Fenelon's peculiar 
 doctrine. He says — 
 
 ' We think Fenelon's exposition of his views open to objection. We 
 begin with self-crucifixion, and on this we chiefly differ from the expo- 
 sition of our author. God and self, he says, are hostile influences — the 
 one, the concentration of all evil ; the other, of all good. Now language 
 like this has led men to very injurious modes of regarding themselves 
 and their own nature. It has thrown a cloud over man's condition and 
 prospects. It has led to self-contempt, a vice as pernicious as pride. 
 When told perpetually to crucify ourselves, we are apt to include our 
 whole nature ; and, under this teaching, our nature is repressed, its 
 growth stunted, and its beauty, grace, and power impaired. Men 
 err in nothing more than in disparaging themselves. A human being 
 justly viewed, instead of being bound to general crucifixion, cannot 
 reverence and cherish himself too much. The mind, which is our chief 
 distinction, cannot be spoken or thought of too reverently. It is God's 
 highest work, his mirror and representative. Its superiority to the out- 
 ward universe is mournfully overlooked, and is yet most true. We believe 
 that the human mind is akin to that Intellectual Energy which gave birth 
 to Nature, and consequently, that it contains within itself the seminal and 
 prolific principles from which Nature sprung. We believe, too, that 
 the highest purpose of the universe is to furnish excitement to the mind, 
 in the work of assimilating itself to the Infinite Spirit ; that is, to min- 
 ister to a progress within us which nothing without can rival : — so trans- 
 cendant is the mind. No imagination can conceive of the greatness of 
 the gift of a rational and moral existence. Far from crucifying this, 
 to unfold it must ever be the chief duty and end of our being, and 
 the noblest tribute we can render to its Author." 
 
 To deny this, has always seemed to me to complain of 
 God's work. Possibly it may be said, that Fenelon's 
 plan of purifying the mind would work much the same 
 result as Channing's, though by a different path. To lift 
 man above his grovelling propensities, the abuse of his 
 
194 
 
 nature, is the object of both : but there is the more pro- 
 minent feature in Channing, of giving the mind a more 
 general expansion, and the animal powers a proper 
 subserviency to the great and holy purposes of God. 
 Fenelon annihilates the manhood, and Channing moulds 
 it according to the will of God. It may be said, however, 
 that many more would be taught beneficially by Fenelon's 
 plan, because they cannot deal with the abstract perfec- 
 tion of our nature, and because fear and wonder, which 
 are called holy dread, act upon them better than the 
 sanctity of high principle. 
 
 But I beg pardon, — and proceed : — 
 
 " Fenelon did not sufficiently feel, that Religion is the expansion and 
 most perfect form of the moral faculty of man. He sometimes teaches 
 that, to do God's will, we must renounce ourselves and silence reason ; as 
 if the Divine will were not in accordance with our faculties ; as if it were 
 something dark and mysterious ; as if, to follow it, we must quench the 
 light of our own minds. It is, indeed, God's approbation and injunction 
 of that moral rectitude, of which the great lines are written on the 
 human soul, and to which reason and conscience, even when they fail to 
 secure obedience, do yet secretly, and in a small degree, respond. Were 
 not the principle of duty an essential part of his mind, he could be 
 bound to no obedience. One spirit runs through all our affections, as far 
 as they are pure ; and love to mankind, directed aright, is the germ and 
 element of love to the Divinity." 
 
 " Our deep interest in the history of good and great men, our delight 
 in mighty efforts of intellect consecrated to a good cause, — all these sen- 
 timents prove our capacity for an affectionate reverence to God ; for He 
 is at once the inspirer and the model of this intellectual and moral 
 grandeur in his creatures." 
 
 " Not only the human affections guide our love to Him ; and not only 
 its deep wants, its dangers and helplessness , guide it to Him; but there 
 are still higher indications of the end for which it was made ; it has a 
 capacity of more than human love, a principle or power of adoration, 
 which cannot bound itself to finite natures, which rises in solemn trans- 
 port, into mingled joy and awe, prophetic of a higher life ; and a brighter 
 signature of our end and happiness cannot be conceived." 
 
 '* It is wonderful that any mind, and especially a superior one, should 
 not see in religion the highest object of thought. Religion is the property 
 and dearest interest of the human race. Religion, if it be true, is central 
 truth ; and all knowledge which is not gathered round it, and quickened 
 and illuminated by it, is hardly worthy the name." 
 
 " It is a fact," he finely says, " which shocks us, that not a few superior 
 
195 
 
 minds look down upon it as a subject beneath their investigation. Though 
 allied with all knowledge, and expressly with that of human nature and 
 human duty, it is regarded as a separate and inferior duty, particularly 
 fitted to the gloom of a minster. Religion is still confounded with the 
 strifes and subtleties of theologians. It is regarded byj these men as a 
 method of escaping future ruin, not as verifying truth, through which the 
 intellect and the heart are alike to be invigorated and enlarged." 
 
 " Already there are signs of a brighter day. It begins to be viewed 
 more generally. It is attracting to itself superior understandings. In pro- 
 portion as the true and sublime conception of God shall unfold itself on 
 the soul, there will be a want of sympathy with all works which have not 
 been quickened by this heavenly influence. It will be felt that man, the 
 great subject of literature, when viewed in separation from his Maker and 
 his end, can be as little understood and portrayed, as a plant torn from the 
 soil in which it grew, and cut off from communication with the clouds 
 and the sun. Genius, intellect, imagination, taste, sensibility, must all be 
 baptized into religion, or they will never know, and never make known, 
 their real glory and immortal power." 
 
 If this be not an ennobling view of religion — if this be 
 not an inspired appeal, as new as it is forcible, as con- 
 tradistinguished as possible from the common teaching 
 of our theologians, then I fear my case is desperate, for 
 I am a misled man, and likely to remain so. I am glad 
 I have met with this work of Channing's, for it has com- 
 forted me greatly. 
 
 CXIV. 
 
 August 25, 1845. 
 I think the following counsel useful — as useful to you 
 as to me. I am glad to see it is some excuse for my 
 continued writing, however I may fail of profiting by its 
 exercise. Channing says, — 
 
 a We doubt whether a man ever brings his faculties to bear with their 
 whole force on a subject, until he writes upon it for the instruction or 
 gratification of others. To place it clearly before others, he feels the 
 necessity of viewing it more vividly himself. By attempting to seize his 
 thoughts, and fix them in an enduring form, he finds them vague and 
 unsatisfactory to a degree which he did not suspect ; and toils for a pre- 
 cision and harmony of views, of which he never before felt the need. 
 He places the subject in new lights ; submits it to a searching analysis, 
 compares and connects it with his various knowledge ; seeks for it new 
 illustrations and analogies ; weighs and objects ; and through those pro- 
 
196 
 
 cesses often arrives at higher truths than he first aimed to illustrate. 
 Dim conceptions grow bright. Glorious thoughts, which had darted as 
 meteors through the mind, are arrested, and gradually shine with a sublime 
 splendour, with prolific energy, on the intellect and the heart. Even 
 when composition yields no such fruits, it is still a great intellectual help- 
 It always favours comprehensive and systematic views, and is singularly 
 fitted to give compass and persevering force to thought." 
 
 " Let our knowledge be rested iu passively, and it profits us nothing. 
 Let the judgment of others be our trust, so that we cease to judge for 
 ourselves, and the intellect is degraded into a worthless machine. The 
 dignity of the mind is to be estimated by the energy of its efforts for its 
 own enlargement." 
 
 To exhibit the necessity of our own active thought, 
 he says — 
 
 " Few are aware how imperfect are the conceptions received from the 
 best instructor, and how much must be done by our own solitary thinking, 
 to give them consistency and vividness. Be the teacher ever so unerring, 
 his language can hardly communicate his mind with entire precision; for, 
 few words awaken exactly the same thoughts in different men." 
 
 " Every human being is intended to have a character of his own, to be 
 what no other is, to do what no other can do. Our common nature 
 is to be unfolded in unbounded diversity. It is rich enough for infinite 
 
 manifestations All virtue lies in individual action, in inward 
 
 energy, in self-determination." 
 
 And see the strong common sense of the following 
 passage : — 
 
 f ' Our great and most difficult duty is, to derive constant aid from 
 society, without taking its yoke ; to open our minds to the thoughts and 
 persuasions of others, and yet to hold fast the sacred right of private 
 judgment ; to receive impulses from our fellow beings, and yet to act 
 from our own souls ; to act with others, and yet to follow our own con- 
 sciences ;— to unite deference and self- dominion." 
 
 In his Essay on Associations, there is the following 
 manly expostulation with your lovers of the wonderful 
 and the distant :— 
 
 " The world is very fond of Missionaries and Charitable Societies, and 
 public appearances, of all classes. But of their private relation with 
 God, with the connections of family, of neighbourhood, of country, and 
 of the great bond of humanity, uniting us with our whole kind, — of 
 these things they think not of, though they are no more to be compared, 
 as claims of deep interest upon us, with these artificial associations, than 
 the torches we kindle are to be paralleled with the all-pervading sun." 
 
197 
 
 " We make these Temarks, because nothing is more common than for 
 man to forget the value of what is familiar, natural, and universal, and to 
 ascribe undue importance to what is extraordinary, forced, rare, and 
 therefore striking." 
 
 And yet I would beg your careful reading of this pro- 
 found view of the human heart, because it so cordially 
 agrees with the spirit (the supposed cruelty) of our Poor 
 laws. 
 
 w In truth, the great object of all benevolence is, to give power and 
 activity to others. We cannot, in the strict sense of the word, make any 
 being happy. We can give them the means of happiness, together with 
 motives to the faithful use of them ; but on this faithfulness, on the free 
 exercise of their own powers, their happiness depends. There is thus a 
 fixed, impassable limit to human benevolence. It can only make men 
 happy through themselves, through their°own freedom and energy. We 
 go further : we believe that God has set the same limit to his own bene- 
 volence. He makes no being happy in any other sense than in that of 
 giving him means, powers, motives, and a field of exertion. 
 
 " Associations aiming to purify and ennoble man's character, by calling 
 forth his own exertions, and a new and growing control over himself, are 
 among the noblest ; while no encouragement is due to such as pour upon 
 him influences from abroad which virtually annihilate his power over 
 himself." 
 
 If these two paragraphs were written upon the walls 
 of our public rooms, where men congregate to devise plans 
 for the good of others, methinks it would shorten their 
 labour, if it did not enlighten their judgment. Let no 
 man hope effectually to improve another by acting for 
 him, nor to serve another, but by provoking his in- 
 dustry. 
 
 As you know I hate Calvinism, you will be also able 
 to comprehend how the following paragraph has pleased 
 me: — 
 
 " Calvinism owes its perpetuity to the influence of fear in paralysing 
 the moral nature. Men's minds and consciences are subdued by terror, 
 so that they dare not confess, even to themselves, the shrinking which 
 they feel from the unworthy views which this system gives of God ; they 
 even come to vindicate in God what would disgrace his creatures." 
 
 And then he adds these pertinent observations to those 
 who object to man's judgment of God's law : — 
 
 " But He himself has made this our duty, in giving us a moral faculty. 
 Conscience, the sense of right, the power of discerning between justice 
 
 K 
 
198 
 
 and injustice, is the highest faculty given us by God, the whole foundation 
 of our responsibility, and our sole capacity for religion. God has im- 
 planted a principle within us, which challenges our supreme homage for 
 supreme goodness. He demands it in discovering to us his benevolence, 
 
 equity, and righteousness There is plainly no more presumption 
 
 in affirming of certain principles, that they oppose God's equity, than to 
 affirm of others, that they prove Him upright and good ; our faculties are 
 as adequate to the perception of the last as the first. If they are not to 
 be trusted in the one case, they are unworthy of confidence in the other; 
 and, of course, the whole structure of religion must fall." 
 
 I admit this reasoning fully ; and it is no answer to ine 
 to say, the Scriptures are the standard of God's law, and 
 they teach Calvinism. They teach its opposite also. I 
 will not believe that that which is inconsistent with the 
 spirit of man is consistent with God's revelation to 
 mart's conscience or comprehension. 
 
 I admire the following passage very much : — 
 " The creed of habit, imitation, or fear, may be defended stoutly, and 
 yet have little practical influence. The mind, when compelled by educa- 
 tion to receive irrational doctrines, has yet a power of keeping them, as 
 it were, on the surface— of excluding them from its depth — of refusing to 
 incorporate them with its being ; it often discovers a sagacity which 
 reminds us of the instinct of inferior animals, in selecting the hervthful 
 and nutritious portions, and so making them its daily food. Accordinrr 1 }- 
 the real faith often corresponds little with that which is professed. It 
 often happens, through the progress of the mind in light and virtue, that 
 opinions once central are gradually thrown outward, lose their vitality, 
 and cease to be principles of action, whilst, through habit, they are de- 
 fended as articles of faith." 
 
 I think this a faithful portrait of thousands of zealous 
 dogmatists. It is also a bit of beautiful satire. How odd 
 it has seemed to me, that the Calvinists dare not do as 
 they teach ; for if predestination be true, wherefore 
 should they act at all? The thing is settled before they 
 begin. Wherefore then more for either plan, for repro- 
 bation or selection? Oh ! but you will act right if you 
 are chosen, say they. And if you ask the question, " Do 
 you act right — are you chosen?" you confound them. 
 They know nothing of the matter, and vet they teach it, 
 and for no possible effect. 
 
 And thus I have come to the end of the first four 
 Essays of Channing's books, and, considering I have 
 
199 
 
 dealt with 191 pages, you ought not to complain of my 
 long extracts, unless indeed I have failed to convey to 
 you something of the spirit of his teaching. By the bye, 
 I almost forget whether I have before told you of my 
 loose plan of not quoting consecutively from any author. 
 I have taken great liberties with Charming, and put 
 together many sentences that stand wide apart in the 
 Essay. This plan is unfair to the author, and most 
 inexcusable, excepting in a simple correspondence like 
 our's. I have been anxious chiefly to give the author's 
 precise sense ; for, of course, without this honesty, I 
 might make a very different sense to arise from these 
 transplanted sentences. I have scored some passages 
 in the Essay on Education, which, though I should like 
 to send them to you, I shall keep back until you decide 
 if they would interest you. 
 
 cxv. 
 
 August 27, 1845. 
 
 Your quotation from Boswell's Johnson has more 
 reference to your sensations than to your understanding. 
 But I am a great deal like you in this particular ; I read 
 too much in reference to what is in accordance with my 
 own intelligence — I look too intently for sympathising 
 chords, and so study my own views rather than the views 
 of the author. 
 
 There is no doubt about discursive reading, that it ex- 
 pands the mind, and increases the general activity of the 
 faculties. But for eminent success in any one thing, 
 every study should have reference to it, or be made sub- 
 servient some w r ay. There can be no better illustration 
 of this fullness of effect, than that of a girl in love. No, 
 not a pin is stuck in her frock without shadowing forth 
 some hope or some simile, — how r that it holds together 
 like the marriage tie, like faith in true hearts, and 
 " heigho ! " she adds, " for the fixed fastening for 
 ever.'' 
 
 lam told not to eat fruit; but, an hour ago, I thought 
 I would go and see the green-gages. "Well, one — surely 
 I may take one ;" and I did eat— how many, never mind ; 
 but now my mouth is full of copper, and I feel as sick 
 as the boy what said, " Something; like a holiday." 
 k 2 
 
200 
 
 Don't you think Mr. Caudle is getting witty ? " The 
 tallow-merchants," says his lady, " won't associate with 
 the tallow-chandlers ; and very properly too." — " Oh," 
 he replies, " that's the aristocracy of fat." 
 
 CXVI. 
 
 August 28, 1845. 
 As you permit me — as you invite me — to go on with 
 my long quotations, I shall give you a few extracts 
 from Channing's Essay on Education : — 
 
 " The child is not put into the hands of parents alone. It is Drought, 
 at birth, into a vast — we may say, an infinite school. The universe is 
 charged with the office of its education. Innumerable voices come to it 
 from all that it meets, sees, and feels. Nature, society, experience, are 
 volumes opened every where, and perpetually before its eyes. Still the 
 influence of parents and teachers is great. On them it very much 
 depends, whether the circumstances which surround the child shall ope- 
 rate to its good. They must help him to read, interpret, and use wisely 
 these great volumes of Nature. They must arrest his precipitate judg- 
 ment, guide his observation, teach him to link together cause and effect 
 in the outward world, and to turn his thoughts inward to his own myste- 
 rious nature How few reflect, that the effect of a teacher's power 
 
 is more important than a statesman's ; that he is greater indeed, who, 
 without show or noise, is fixing on a few minds broad, generous, preg- 
 nant principles of judgment and action, than he who works upon coarse 
 
 instruments for coarse ends— and such is a statesman's power Its 
 
 true end is to unfold and direct our whole nature. Its office is to call 
 forth power of every kind — power of thought, affection, will, and outward 
 action ; power to observe, to reason, to judge, to contrive ; power to 
 govern ourselves and to govern others ; power to gain and to spread 
 happiness. A spirit of humanity should be breathed into the student 
 from all his studies. The study of the world should be to him as God's 
 world, and as the sphere in which he is to form interesting connexions 
 
 with the fallen creatures Geography should include the pln'sical 
 
 and moral condition, the habits and peculiarities of different nations. 
 History should exercise the moral judgment, call forth his sympath3" 
 with the fortunes of the human race, and expose to indignation the selfish 
 
 ambition which has so long deluged the earth with blood and woe 
 
 The teacher must do more. He must create a thirst for knowledge, give 
 animation to study and make it a pleasure, and thus communicate an 
 impulse which will endure when the instructions of the school are 
 closed. The mark of a good teacher is, that he has laid the foundations 
 
201 
 
 of knowledge, and made the pupil anxious and resolved to improve him- 
 self. .... One of the sure signs of a low education is, that the young, 
 on leaving school, feel as if the work of intellectual culture were done, 
 and give up every vigorous effort for higher truth and wider knowledge. 
 . . . , The true use of a school is to dispose the pupil to learn through 
 
 life Our limits allow us but to add, that religion in its broadest 
 
 sense should be taught. It should indirectly mix with all teaching. The 
 young man should be guided through nature and human history to the 
 Creator and Disposer of the universe ; and still more, the practical prin- 
 ciples of Christianity should be matters of direct inculcation." 
 
 This is indeed a poor outline of his plan ; and I have 
 left out many important features, which however I am 
 sure must have been long familiar to you. He is par- 
 ticularly anxious to enforce the need of enlightened 
 teachers, and of the need also of giving them their due 
 reward, and condemns strongly the general apathy and 
 injustice as regards these useful men. But pray read this 
 Essay with great care. No man thinks enough of the 
 effect of education upon our social and political condition ; 
 —it is the salt of society. 
 
 CXVII. 
 
 August 29, 1845. 
 This Channing v s mind seems of that generalising kind 
 — that wide philosophical construction — that, on whatever 
 subject he treats, his words seem to bear upon every 
 high purpose of life, as well as especially upon the one 
 under consideration. His Essay on Slavery has this 
 remarkable opening: — 
 
 " The first question to be proposed by a rational being is, not what is 
 profitable, but what is right. Duty must be primary, prominent, of the 
 most conspicuous among the objects of human thought and pursuit. If 
 we cast it down from its supremacy — if we inquire first for our interest, 
 and then for our duties, — we shall certainly err. We can never see the 
 right clearly and fully, but by making it our first concern. This is the 
 fundamental truth, the supreme law of reason ; and the mind which does 
 not start from this, in its inquiries into human affairs, is doomed to great, 
 perhaps to fatal errors." 
 
 But this Essay has less interest to us than to the people 
 of America. Perhaps, indeed, it has not enough of 
 
202 
 
 interest to move your curiosity ; therefore I will leave 
 this subject, and begin a few extracts from the Essay on 
 Catholicism. He says, — 
 
 " There is very little danger to be dreaded from the spread of Catholi- 
 cism, at least in America. It has something more to do than to fight with 
 sects, The great foe to the spread of Catholic doctrines is the progress of 
 society. Catholicism is immovable ; and movement and innovation are the 
 order of the day. It takes its stand in the past ; and this generation is 
 living in the future. It clings to forms which the mind has outgrown. 
 It forbids free inquiry ; and inquiry is the spirit of the age, invading every 
 region of thought. It withholds the Scriptures ; and the age is a reading 
 one, and reads the more what is forbidden. We have now come to learn 
 that Christianity is not a dogma, but a spirit ; that its essence is the spirit 
 of its Divine Founder ; that nothing is important, but the supreme love, 
 choice, and pursuit of moral perfection, shining forth in the life and teach- 
 ings of Christ The great foe to Catholicism is human nature 
 
 waking up to a consciousness of its powers, thirsting for free action and 
 development." 
 
 This I take to be a better argument than any learned 
 confutation of its doctrines. 
 
 The Essay on Temperance deals in the same masterly 
 manner with the prime base of the evil of intemperance ; 
 and thinks the developed fungus of less consequence to 
 be traced individually, and deserving of less regard. It 
 is suggestive of profound reasons to check this crying 
 shame. He says, — 
 
 " Intemperance is the voluntary extinction of reason. The great evil 
 is inward and spiritual. The drunkard sins against self-consciousness and 
 self-command — against his rational nature. All other evils are light, 
 
 compared with this ; and almost all flow from this It is intended, 
 
 wisely intended by God, that sin shall spread its miseries beyond itself; 
 that no human being shall suffer alone ; that the man who falls shall drag 
 others with him, if not into his guilt, at least into a portion of his woe. 
 This is one of the dependences by which we become interested in one 
 another's moral safety, and are summoned to labour for the rescue of the 
 fallen." 
 
 And then of the power of the community to act as a 
 check, he says, — 
 
 " And how may moral strength be communicated to the lower and 
 degraded classes of society ? By example in the highest. The greatest 
 benefactor is he whose moral character is the manifestation of a higher 
 spirit than pervades the mass. The multiplication of individuals of true 
 
203 
 
 force of character, would be the surest of all omens of the suppression of 
 intemperance in every condition of society. As vice acts, so also will 
 virtue inoculate." 
 
 Every quotation I make is expressive of counsel that 
 extends over an infinitely wider field than the immediate 
 subject in hand : — all things are limitless to a great mind. 
 
 The Essay on Self-culture sweeps through man's tem- 
 poral, and eternal interests also : — 
 
 " A man is great as a man, be he where or what he may. His power 
 of intellect is a glorious prerogative. Through the vulgar error of under- 
 standing what is common as of little worth, we are to pass this by. But 
 as in the outward creation, so in the inward, the common is the most pre- 
 cious. Let us not disparage that nature which is common to all men, 
 for nothing can measure its grandeur. He who possesses the divine power 
 of the soul is a great being, be his place what it may. Real greatness has 
 nothing to do with man's sphere. Grandeur of character lies wholly in 
 force of soul, that is, in the force of thought, moral principle, and love ; 
 and this may be found in the humblest condition of life. The greatest 
 man is he who chooses the right with invincible resolution, who resists the 
 secret temptations from within and from without, who bears the heaviest 
 burdens cheerfully, who is calmest in storms, whose reliance on virtue, on 
 God, is most unfaltering." 
 
 " And even as regards the influence over other beings, I believe that 
 the difference between the conspicuous and the obscure does not amount 
 to mueh. Influence is to be measured, not by the extent of the surface it 
 covers, but by its kind. The noblest influence on earth is that exerted on 
 character ; and he who puts forth this does a great work, no matter how 
 narrow or obscure his sphere. . They may inspire a being with holy prin- 
 ciples, who again may communicate himself to others, and that by a 
 spreading agency, of which they were the silent origin, so that improve- 
 ment may percolate through a nation, througli the world I attach 
 
 myself to the multitude because they are men, and have within their reach 
 the most glorious prizes of humanity." 
 
 " Self-culture," he says in another place, " is something possible. It 
 is not a dream. It has foundation in our nature. We have the power of 
 turning the mind on itself ; we have self-searching and self- forming power. 
 It is by this self-comprehending power that we are distinguished from the 
 brutes, which give no signs of looking into themselves. To most men, 
 their spirits are shadowy, unreal, compared to what is outward. When 
 they look within, they see only a dark mass; multitudes live and die 
 strangers to themselves. We have not only the power of seeing our facul- 
 ties grow, but of applying to them means and influences to aid their 
 growth. We can speed our progress forward. This is a noble preroga- 
 
204 
 
 tive of our nature Of all the discoveries which men need to make;, 
 
 the most important is that of self-forming power. There is a divinity in 
 us ; but how it slumbers in most men unsuspected and unused ! " 
 
 And then, speaking of the process or means of self- 
 culture, he says, — 
 
 " The root is in the man. No man, however narrowed to his own 
 interest, however hardened by selfishness, can deny, that there springs up 
 within him a great idea, in opposition to interest, — the idea of duty ; that 
 an inward voice calls him, more or less distinctly, to revere and exercise 
 impartial justice, and universal good-will. On its culture the right 
 development of our whole being depends. The passions indeed may be 
 stronger than the conscience, may lift up a louder voice ; but their cla- 
 mour differs wholly from the tone of command in which the conscience 
 speaks. In their very triumph they are rebuked by the moral power, 
 
 and often cower before its still, deep, menacing voice Self-culture is 
 
 religious. The true idea of God, unfolded so as to make us aspire to adore 
 and obey Him, is the noblest growth in human nature. It is the essence 
 of true religion to recognize the attributes of impartial justice and uni- 
 versal love, and to hear Him commanding us to become what we 
 adore." 
 
 " I'o gain truth, which is the great object of the understanding, I must 
 seek it disinterestedly. Here is the first and grand condition of intellectual 
 progress. 1 must follow it, no matter where it leads, what interest it 
 opposes, from what party it severs us, or to what party it allies. Thought 
 expands, as by a natural elasticity, when the presence of selfishness is 
 removed." 
 
 " Intellectual culture consists, not chiefly, as many are apt to think, in 
 accumulating information — though this is important — but in building up a 
 force of thought which may be turned at will on any subject on which we 
 are called to pass judgment. This force is manifested in the concentra- 
 tion of attention, in accurate, penetrating observation, in reducing com- 
 plex subjects to their elements, in diving beneath the effects to their cause, 
 and especially in rising from particular facts to general Jaws or universal 
 truths. This last exertion of the intellect constitutes the philosophical 
 mind, and is especially worthy of culture." 
 
 And again, of the culture of speech, hear these words : — 
 
 " A man was not made to shut up his mind in himself; but to give it 
 voice, and to exchange it for other minds. Speech is one of our grand 
 distinctions from the brute. Our power over others lies, perhaps, not so 
 much in the amount of thought within, as in the power of bringing it out. 
 And not only does a man influence others, but he greatly aids his own 
 intellect, by giving distinct and forcible utterance to his thoughts. We 
 
205 
 
 understand ourselves better, our conceptions grow clearer, by the very 
 effort to make them clearer to another." 
 
 And of books he says, — 
 
 " It is chiefly through books that we enjoy intercourse with superior 
 minds ; and these invaluable means of communication are in the reach of 
 all. In the best books, great men talk to us, give us their most precious 
 thoughts, and pour their souls into our's. God be thanked for books ! 
 They are the voices of the distant and of the dead ; and they make us 
 heirs of the spiritual life of past ages." 
 
 And then to caution us against a too willing reception 
 of other men's minds, without bringing our own judg- 
 ment into activity, he says, — 
 
 **' Even the influences of superior minds may harm us, by bowing us 
 too servilely, and damping our spiritual activity. The great use of inter- 
 course with other men's minds is, to stir up our own, to whet our appe- 
 tite, to carry our thoughts beyond their old tracks." 
 
 In summing up, in reviewing the progress already 
 made by general enlightenment, he says, — 
 
 '* Not many years ago, the nation was the property of one man, and 
 all its interests were staked in perpetual games of war. Society was of 
 two classes, — the high-born and the vulgar. The people had no signifi- 
 cance as individuals, but formed a mass to be wielded by their lords. 
 Who that compares the condition of Europe a few years ago with the 
 present state of the world, but must bless God for the change. It was 
 the struggle for religious rights which opened men's eyes to all other 
 rights. It was religion which awakened their consciousness of importance 
 as individuals. It was religious discussion which roused the minds of all 
 
 classes to free and vigorous thought Let us thank God for what 
 
 has been gained. When we think that every house might be cheered by 
 intelligence, and remember in how many houses the higher powers and 
 affections of the heart are buried as in tombs, what a darkness- gathers 
 over society ! .... I would I could speak with an awakening voice to 
 the people : I would say, You cannot stop where you are without disgrace. 
 Let what you have gained be an impulse to something higher. If you 
 will, you can rise. Do not be lulled to sleep by the flatteries which you 
 hear, as if your participation in the national sovereignty made you equal. 
 to the noblest of your race. You have many and great deficiencies to be 
 remedied; and the remedy lies, not in the ballot- bos, not in the exercise 
 of political power, but in the faithful education of yourselves and your 
 children. Resolve earnestly on self-culture. Make yourselves worthy of 
 your free institutions, and strengthen and perpetuate them by your 
 intelligence and your virtues." 
 
 K 5 
 
206 
 
 So he eloquently, and aptly for America, finishes the 
 best appeal I have ever read, to man, for self-culture. So 
 far as I can judge, it is better, profounder, and more 
 practically useful than Bacon's, or Brougham's, or Peel's, 
 or any other of the orations I have read. He goes 
 beyond, probes deeper than "The Pleasures and Advan- 
 tages of Education/' as cultivating the general mind more 
 usefully, and encouraging the awakening of every man 
 to see and to listen to the high behests of God's design 
 upon every human creature. The unfaltering decision of 
 character he teaches, its development into great principles 
 for the good of society — his advocacy of these things 
 is like the warm, earnest, and great expression of a 
 noble understanding. Where Emerson is great in 
 simple theory, this man is great in its practical applica- 
 tion to man. Our Own Carlyle is one of these new 
 workers, acting from the same persuasion of the possible 
 development of great powers even in the multitude, if 
 freely directed, and taught earnestly. 
 
 CXVIIL 
 
 August 30, 1845. 
 
 I received your letter last evening, and I hasten to free 
 your mind from the error of supposing Channing to be an 
 advocate of the too free usage of popular power. No 
 man hates despotism more than Channing; and mob 
 despotism he has attacked more freely than any man in 
 America. He has too noble a mind to love tyranny of 
 any kind, and too quick a sight not to see how popular 
 power may become a hateful tyranny, if not guarded as 
 vigilantly and as jealously as kingship or any other of 
 its hydra forms. It is a common persuasion of your 
 Tories, that if we have not one thing, we must have its 
 contrary. This is by no means a matter of course. 
 
 True it is, that Channing's doctrines are addressed to 
 and fitted for reasonable beings ; but then is it unreason- 
 able to suppose all men may become so ? Are we not 
 in progress? have we not the proper capacity, aye, in 
 every man, for improvement? What will our village 
 schools teach you ? Look around you. 
 
 Fenelon differed essentially from the Catholic Church ; 
 
207 
 
 and only through fear of disturbing the general mind, 
 and keeping his faith, as to his obedience to mother 
 Church, or he would have boldly declared his difference. 
 I confess, the peace and unity of the Church is a most 
 desirable object ; but is it more desirable than man's 
 enlightenment? Or, if you say yes, is it more desirable 
 than guiding wisely the great movement — the now deter- 
 mined free thought and free action of the family of man ? 
 Then unity — what has it done, but given us the battle to 
 fight against even the sound and excellent doctrines 
 of catholicity, as well as against the manifold abuses of 
 the church? 
 
 Reforms should never be left to the violent and the 
 rash ; for, if not undertaken by the wise, they will be un- 
 dertaken. France is a sad example of this. Fear of dis- 
 turbance is a poor reason — as poor a reason to the wise 
 as to the foolish. Your timid people are always beaten, 
 or at least will be for all forthcoming time. No man, 
 any more, can stop the free thought and free action of 
 mankind ; to direct it, to govern it wisely, to work with it 
 for an enlightened purpose, is now alone left to all men 
 in authority over us. 
 
 Your strictures upon the "Liber Amoris" are well 
 applied. I hated the beggarly passion of that man's 
 love — it seemed so coarsely animal, and yet it seemed to 
 move some of the most intellectual springs of his mind 
 — it dragged it down to such a low level. She was 
 every way a poor inanimate object for his intelligence ; 
 but this is not the first time of coarse passion subduing 
 the bright effulgence of the spirit. As a plaything, as 
 a piece of riotous joy, I can readily conceive of his rap- 
 ture ; but that she should have so deeply moved his 
 whole nature, seems monstrous to me. I have been told 
 it is a literal tale. Hazlitt was a peculiar writer, an im- 
 passioned one in all things. His dramatic criticisms are 
 his best things, I think ; but even they seem too strongly 
 tinged with stage effect. 
 
 When about to go to sleep, does your mind wander — 
 seem really disjointed and in parts — so that no two sen- 
 tences will hold together ; and, though really awake, 
 having no power to think rationally ? Sometimes I feel 
 this so sensibly as to believe my mind is giving way. 
 
208 
 
 My poor boy, in the last week, had just this imbecility, 
 could not give an answer but to one short question ; if it 
 were the least involved, he became bewildered. Thank 
 God, we have no knowledge of this humiliation, the poor 
 head is insensible of it. 
 
 CXIX. 
 
 September 3, 1845. 
 
 Yon don't know what your state is to be— no, not 
 for to-morrow ; therefore your determination -your's and 
 Julia's — to retire to some snug retreat, is a "castle in 
 the air." Sir Walter Scott has played the bear with 
 the beautiful seclusion of the old maids of Llangollen ; 
 he has exhibited them as more than commonly anxious 
 for the news of the world, and that, too, of a class not 
 very creditable to any intelligent creature. Your sup- 
 position, that " they naturally wanted to know all they 
 could hear of the busy world/' is not a sufficient reason, 
 because the very object of their retirement was to shut 
 out the world, its petty disturbances, its foolish hopes, 
 and its withering disappointments. But nature was too 
 strong for them. I am glad it was so. If it had not 
 been through fear of the world's ridicule, poor things ! 
 they would have abandoned their hermitage to the 
 rooks of Llangollen years before they died. 
 
 No, never trust to outward circumstances, to physical 
 facts of any class, as being able to work a revolution in 
 your sentiments; the common nature of man is based on 
 spiritual facts, and will not be guided against its sense of 
 right, and the laws of its being, by physical influences. 
 Within, all within, is the spring and power of your con- 
 trol. And if that be healthy and cultivated properly, any 
 circumstances may be overcome or set aside in any 
 place, wherever you may be. 
 
 That is one of the odd feelings we have held in com- 
 mon, as regards the communication of our own griefs to 
 others. I also was accustomed to keep them as a secret, 
 as a sanctity. I have now outlived this inward trembling, 
 and, as I descend into the " yellow leaf," I find comfort 
 in its utterance to a chosen few ; it seems to unload a 
 heavy burden, and to give vent to swelling and oppres- 
 sive thought. I still hate a chatterer on these particulars 
 
209 
 
 but I cannot so name true friendship's communion. Try 
 it once or twice. At first perhaps the effect will startle 
 you, perhaps shock you, as well as make you fear being 
 misunderstood ; but easily it will become a veritable 
 solace. Out with it all, even the inmost word, and it will 
 act upon you like prayer, — it will slake the thirst of the 
 dreary heart. Talk to your brother freely about your 
 troubles. He may, as you say, understand a good deal 
 already, by intuition, or sympathy ; but words, when 
 uttered under deep emotion, will produce a holier effect 
 in both of you, — it is the intertwining of sorrow and 
 fortitude. 
 
 My niece arrived from France a day or two ago. 
 What a timid mousy she is ! afraid of the utterance of 
 every thought, and particularly if it rises from beneath 
 the very surface of her being. What topical creatures 
 we all are ! She has brought two French girls over, who 
 were educated at her school. They are daughters of the 
 Deputy (M.P.) for Lille. I am much vexed I cannot 
 converse with them, though I can understand much of 
 what they say. They possess, I think, innocent and free 
 minds, and are fearless in expression ; their curiosity 
 also seems of an intelligent kind. Of the public men 
 and the leading political measures of their country, they 
 know more than one half of our men politicians do of 
 our's. Their father is a Liberal — " de I'opposition," — has 
 prominently in his head the glory of France, and jealousy, 
 if not hatred, against us poor islanders. 
 
 They are full of fun against the oddities of John Bull, 
 who is in their estimation just what a country farmer is 
 in the estimation of a cockney, and with about as much 
 reason! You would laugh, though, to hear them twit 
 "Albert" for his subserviency to a woman, — which at 
 least seems very droll to me: for every one of you 
 would love the Queen's chance over a man. They won't 
 admit the necessity of the case, nor believe in the jea- 
 lousy of the English against even the shadow of foreign 
 influence. In their vernacular language or idiom, they 
 say, " He burns his wife's faggots," — " takes up the end 
 of her prayers," &c. ; some of which seem very queer 
 similes. And when I said, " You ladies, all of you, are 
 fond of power, and I expected you would have been 
 
210 
 
 gratified for the honour of your sex," they rejoined, 
 " Mais, non ; the man — he should be the man, and not 
 his wife's housekeeper." " But he is happy," I added. 
 " Tant mieux pour lui," said they, both in a breath; 
 which seemed to be very like a derisive cheer. 
 
 I was curious to know something of the convents in 
 France, but they had little to say, their praise seemed very 
 faint. " I wonder you did not take the veil," said I, with 
 malice prepense. "Moi! mais, non, monsieur," Julie 
 answered with a quickness somewhat remarkable; and 
 laughing at my simplicity, said, " Ce n'est pas mon 
 avocation." Only a French girl could utter this most 
 discriminative answer. 
 
 They are full of prejudices against our manners ; 
 doing as all isolated people do, —they bring all things to 
 the standard of their own teaching — their own habits. 
 This fault is a great one every where. They could not 
 understand my praise of the gallantry of their soldiers, 
 because, remembering Waterloo, they could not praise 
 our's. My commendation of Louis Philippe, made them 
 think I believed the English were taking advantage of 
 him. And my admiration of some points of Buonaparte's 
 character, and my willingness to acknowledge his supe- 
 riority to Wellington as a general — his more splendid 
 abilities, arising perhaps out of his more splendid posi- 
 tion, and therefore oat of his freer action — they could not 
 perfectly comprehend, because they had been accustomed 
 to contend for all these things with every Englishman 
 they had seen. I overcame them, however, by this pro- 
 cess, and altered many of their national antipathies. At 
 the reckoning up, however, I confess I should like to 
 see my own children as well taught in history, in politics, 
 and in religious knowledge ; and particularly, that they 
 should have the same power to convey their general in- 
 formation — such a free, and lucid, and easy command 
 over their language. 
 
 " Mrs. Caudle's" character as a wife is by no means 
 an anomaly. Her religious notions would accord with 
 those of one half of the women of England; and her 
 domestic duty — her notions, at least, of domestic duty — 
 oh ! the same are as thick as blackberries ! Out of what 
 source spring her ideas of wife direction ? Ask around 
 
211 
 
 you ; you may get Mrs. Caudle's answer at every door 
 you knock at ! If this be untrue at any one door, then, 
 as these French girls have said, " Tant mieux pour 
 elle ! "—the case is singular ! 
 
 cxx. 
 
 September, 5, 1845. 
 
 I have been much interested — have indeed had my 
 deepest attention fixed solemnly for hours on Channing's 
 *■ Essay on Christianity, its Evidences and Character." 
 He appeals to the reason of the strong man, to the highest 
 reason and holiest veneration of the most vigorous intel- 
 lect. It is true, he does not follow in the common track of 
 spiritual guides ; he seems indeed entirely to take up 
 another mode of producing Christianity before man's 
 intellect ; and if you will not admit that what is incon- 
 sistent with man's intelligence cannot be God's revelation 
 to man — if you dispute this — then J recommend you to 
 read with the " fold" that now teaches, viz. that which 
 is incomprehensible to man's understanding, as his 
 law and governance. 
 
 Hereafter you will see how he deals with the common 
 objection of man's weakness and feeble powers ; and 
 how he treats the popular notion also, that so few can 
 think wisely or reason clearly, or can be persuaded to act 
 under the impulses of pure principle, of goodness of 
 heart through love to God. 
 
 He takes the text for the first discourse, " I am not 
 ashamed of the cross of Christ." " In uttering these 
 words," he says, — 
 
 " St. Paul was no servile repeater of established doctrines. The 
 cross was then coupled with infamj. Since that time, what striking 
 changes have occurred ! Millions now bow before it in adoration as if it 
 were a shrine of the Divinity. . . . Much, however, of the homage paid 
 to Christianity is outward, political, worldly, and paid to its corrup- 
 tions much more than to its pure and lofty spirit We may 
 
 still be tempted to be ashamed of our religion, by being thrown among 
 sceptics who deny and deride it. And we may be tempted to be 
 ashamed of the simple and rational doctrines of Christ by being brought 
 into contact with narrow zealots, who enforce their dark, and perhaps 
 degrading peculiarities as essential to salvation No man deserves- 
 
212 
 
 the name of Christian, but he who adheres to the truth, and maintains 
 his conscientious belief therein, amidst the unbelieving, the intolerant, 
 and the depraved." 
 
 " The religion is true," he says in another place. " This is my first 
 reason of adherence. "Without this belief I could not defend it. I 
 adopt it, not because it is popular, for false and ruinous systems have 
 enjoyed equal reputation ; nor because it is thought to uphold the order 
 of society, for I believe nothing but truth can be permanently useful. It 
 is true ; and I say this not lightly, but after deliberate consideration and 
 examination. I am not repeating the accents of the nursery. I do not 
 affirm Christianity because I was so taught before I could inquire, or 
 because I was brought up in a community pledged to this belief. .... On 
 observing how common it is for men of all countries and names to receive 
 the religion of their fathers, I have again and again asked myself, whether 
 I too was not blindly walking in the path of tradition, and yielding 
 
 myself to an hereditary faith I distrust the power of numbers ; 
 
 and few things incite me more to repel a doctrine than intolerant attempts 
 to force it on my understanding." 
 
 " Perhaps," he adds, with wonderful magnanimity for a priest, " my 
 Christian education and connections have inclined me to scepticism, 
 rather than bowed my mind to authority. T have no priestly preposses- 
 sions. I know and acknowledge the corruptions and perversions of the 
 ministerial office from the earliest ages of the church. I reprobate the 
 tyranny which it exercises so often over the human mind. 1 claim no 
 exemption from error. I ask that I may be heard as a friend of truth. 
 .... I should be ashamed of it, did I not believe it true." 
 
 " In discussing the subject," he says again, " I shall express my con- 
 victions strongly; I shall speak of infidelity as a perilous error. But, in 
 so doing, I beg not to be understood as passing sentence on the character 
 of unbelievers. I would uphold the truth without ministering to uncha- 
 
 ritableness I do not believe in the criminality of unbelief under 
 
 all imaginable circumstances ; and, so believing, I think it worthy of a 
 brief consideration in this stage of the discussion. 
 
 "Unbelief must receive its character from the dispositions or motives 
 which produce or pervade it. When I speak of faith as a holy or virtu- 
 ous principle, I extend the term beyond its primitive meaning, and include 
 in it, not merely the assent of the intellect, but the disposition or temper 
 by which this assent is determined, and which it is suited to confirm; and 
 I attach as broad a signification to unbelief when I pronounce it a crime. 
 
 Unbelief is a different thing, when the religion is offered pure as 
 
 it came from Jesus, and when overlaid b}>- man's ambition and policy. 
 When I think what religion has undergone, how it has been shaped in 
 the hands of power, how it has crushed the human mind by the audacity of 
 men, how its ministers have hewn and compressed it into a shape of rigid 
 creeds; when I consider how, under such influences, Christianity has 
 
•213 
 
 been exhibited in forms which shock alike the reason, conscience, and 
 heart, I feel deeply what a different system it has become from that 
 which Jesus taught, and I dare not apply to unbelief the terms of con- 
 demnation which belonged to infidelity in the primitive age." 
 
 u Perhaps I ought to go further, and say, that to reject Christianity 
 
 under some of its corruptions, is rather a virtue #an a crime 
 
 Jesus Christ has told us, that this is the condemnation of the unbelieving, 
 ' that they love darkness rather than light ; ' and who does not see, that 
 this ground of condemnation is removed just in proportion as the light 
 is quenched or Christian truth is buried in darkness and debasing 
 error?" .... 
 
 f The great question is, How shall we win him to the true faith ? Not 
 by reproach, but by setting before him its simple majesty, its reasonable 
 ness, and wonderful adaptation to the wants of our spiritual nature ; and, 
 above all, by showing in our own characters and lives, that there is 
 in Christianity a power to purify, elevate, and console, which can be 
 found in no human teaching." 
 
 " I come now," he says farther on, u to the proofs of Christianity ; 
 and I assert, that there is nothing in the general idea of Revelation at 
 which reason ought to take offence, nothing at war with any great 
 principles of reason or experience. On hearing of God's teaching us by 
 some other means than the fixed order of nature, we ought not to be 
 surprised, nor ought the suggestion to awaken resistance in our minds. 
 .... From the necessity of the case, the earliest instruction must have 
 come to human beings from this source. If our race had a beginning, 
 then its first members, having no resource in the experience of fellow- 
 creatures, required an immediate teaching from their Creator ; they would 
 
 have perished without it The teachings of the wise and good 
 
 are our chief aids. Were our connections with superior minds broken off, 
 had we no teacher but Nature with its fixed laws, we should remain for 
 ever in the ignorance of childhood. The great law under which man is 
 placed is, that he should receive illumination and impulse from beings 
 more improved than himself. Now Revelation is only an extension of 
 
 this universal method of carrying forward mankind His parental 
 
 character is a pledge, that he must intend ineffable happiness for his 
 rational offspring; and Revelation is suited to this end, not only by unfold- 
 ing new doctrines in relation to God, but by the touching proof which 
 it carries in itself of the special interest which He takes in the human 
 
 family What kind of instruction is it, which parents and the 
 
 experienced are most anxious to give to the young \ It is instruction in 
 relation to the future, to their adult years, such as is suited to prepare 
 them for the life which is opening before them. It is God's will, when 
 He gives us birth, that we should be forewarned of the future stages 
 of our being, of approaching manhood, of the duties, labours, through 
 which we are to pass. Now the Christian revelation has for its aim to 
 
214 
 
 teach us on this very subject ; to disclose the life which is before us, 
 and to fit us for it. A future state is its constant burden. That God 
 should give us light in regard to that state, is what we should expect from 
 his solicitude to teach us in regard to what is future in our earthly existence. 
 .... One of the most striking views of human nature is, the dispro- 
 portion between wha^t conceives and thirsts for, and what it finds and 
 can secure in the range of the present state. There is in most men a 
 dim consciousness of being made for something higher, a feeling of inter- 
 nal discord, a want of some stable good, a disappointment in merely out- 
 ward acquisitions. They impute to outward causes the miseries which 
 
 spring from an internal fountain There are those who painfully 
 
 feel the weight of their present imperfections, who desire nothing so in- 
 tensely as power over temptation, as elevation above selfish passions, as 
 conformity of will to the inward law of duty, as the peace of conscious 
 rectitude and religious trust." 
 
 " Here are principles implanted by God in the highest order of his 
 creatures on earth, to which Revelation is adapted; and I say then, that 
 Revelation is any thing but hostility to Nature. I say then, for what 
 principle or faculty of the mind was Christianity intended ? It addresses 
 itself primarily to the moral power in man. Conscience is the supreme 
 power within us. Its office is to command, to rebuke, to reward ; and 
 happiness and honour depend on the reverence with which we listen 
 to it." 
 
 " Sin is war with the highest power in our breasts. It makes a being 
 odious to himself. It poisons the fountains of enjoyment, and adds 
 unspeakable weight to the necessary pains of life." 
 
 And then see this masterly recapitulation of its be- 
 ginning and growth, as far as regards its physical 
 development :• — 
 
 " Christianity, though born ages ago, is not obscure. From the 
 nature of things, we know much of the past ; for the present has 
 grown out of the past, is its legacy and fruit, and is deeply impressed 
 
 with it. Nothing takes place without leaving traces behind it 
 
 A book is more than a monument of a preceding age. It is a voice 
 coming to us over the interval of centuries- Language when written 
 as truly conveys to us another's mind, as when spoken. Christianity 
 is not placed beyond the reach of our investigation by the remoteness 
 of its origin. We know with certainty the time when it was founded ; 
 we know the place where it sprang up. Its Jewish origin is stamped 
 on its front, and woven into its frame. And we know its Author, for 
 his history forms an essential part of his religion. He is its very soul. 
 It rests on him. We know his first ministers also. We have the testi- 
 mony of all ages, that the men called Apostles were the first propagators 
 of Christianity. Again, we know what in the main this religion was as it 
 
215 
 
 came from the hands of its Founder. . . . The many and great eorrup* 
 tions did not, and could not, hide its principal features ; for we know what 
 its propagators taught : we have their writings. And we have a series of 
 Christian authors, from the time of the Apostles, who bear witness to the 
 authenticity of the Gospels." 
 
 " They are written with simplicity, minuteness, and ease, which are the 
 natural tones of truth, and which belong to writers thoroughly acquainted 
 with their subjects. It is a striking circumstance, that whilst, the life 
 and character which they portray are the most extraordinary in his- 
 tory, the style is the most artless. You have plain men telling of what 
 they knew, of a character which they venerated too much to think of 
 adorning. It is also worthy of remark, that the character of Jesus, 
 though the most peculiar and exalted in history, though the last to be 
 invented, and hardest to be sustained, is yet unfolded through a great 
 variety of details and condition, with perfect unity and consistency. . . . 
 That four writers, under such circumstances, should sustain throughout 
 so peculiar and elevated a character as Christ's, and should harmonize 
 with each other in the delineation, would be a prodigy, which no genius, 
 however pre-eminent, could achieve." 
 
 The following is a remarkable passage, and deserving 
 your deepest atttention : — 
 
 " When I go back to the origin of Christianity, and place myself in 
 the age of its birth, I can find nothing in the opinions of men, or in the 
 state of society, which can account for its beginning or diffusion. There 
 was nothing congenial with it in Judaism, in heathenism, or among the 
 most cultivated communities. If you study the religions, governments, 
 and philosophical systems of that age, you will discover in them nothing 
 of, not even a learning towards Christianity. It sprang up in opposition 
 to all, making no compromise with human prejudice or passion ; and it 
 sprung up, not only superior to all, but possessing at its very beginning 
 a perfection which has been the admiration of ages, and which, instead 
 of being dimmed by time, has come forth more brightly in proportion 
 to the progress of the human mind." 
 
 " We cannot then find," he says, after reviewing the leading sects of 
 the world, " the origin of Christianity in the heathen world. Shall we 
 look for it in the Jewish \ You know the character, feelings, expecta- 
 tions of the descendants of Abraham at the appearing of Jesus ; and you 
 need not be told, that a system more opposed to the Jewish mind than 
 that which he taught, cannot be imagined. There was never, perhaps, a 
 national character so deeply stamped as the Jewish. Ages after ages of 
 unparalleled sufferings have done little to wear away its indelible fea- 
 tures In the bosom of this community, and among its humblest 
 
 classes, sprung up Christianity; a religion as unfettered by Jewish preju- 
 
216 
 
 dices, as untainted by the earthly, narrow views of the age, as if it had 
 come from another world." 
 
 " Christianity, I maintain, was not the growth of any of the circum- 
 stances, principles, or feelings of the age in which it appeared. In truth, 
 one of the great distinctions of the Gospel is, that it did not grow. The 
 conception, which filled the mind of Jesus, of a religion more spiritual, 
 generous, comprehensive, and unworldly than Judaism, and destined to 
 take its place, was not of gradual formation. We detect no signs of it, 
 and no effort to realize it, before his time. It was delivered, from the 
 first, in its full proportions, in a style of singular freedom and boldness, 
 and without a mark of painful elaboration. This suddenness, this matu- 
 rity at the very moment of its birth, seems to me a strong mark of its 
 divine original. If Christianity be a human invention, then I can be 
 pointed to something in the history of the age which impelled and fitted 
 the mind of its author to its production." 
 
 " How was it, that from this darkness there burst forth at once this 
 meridian light ? Were I told that the sciences of the civilized world 
 had sprung up to perfection at once, amidst a barbarous horde, I should 
 pronounce it incredible. Nor can I easily believe that Christianity, 
 the religion of unbounded love, which proclaimed one universal Father ; 
 which abolished forms, and substituted the worship of the soul ; and 
 which taught an elevation, that the growing knowledge of succeeding 
 ages has made more admirable — I say, I cannot easily believe that such 
 a religion was suddenly, immediately struck out by human ingenuity, 
 among a people distinguished by bigotry and narrowness of spirit, by 
 hatred and scorn of other nations, and by the proud impatient hope of 
 soon bending all nations to their sway." 
 
 " It had no sympathy with that age. It was the echo of no sect or 
 people. It stood alone at the moment of its birth. It was not a word 
 of conciliation. It stooped to no error or passion. It had its own tone, 
 the tone of authority and superiority to the world. It struck at the 
 root of what was every where called glory, reversed the judgment of 
 all . former ages, passed a condemning sentence on the idols of this 
 world's admiration, and held forth, as the perfection of human virtue, 
 a spirit of love so pure and divine, so free and full, so mild and for- 
 giving, so invincible in fortitude, yet so tender in its sympathies, that 
 even now few comprehend it in its extent and elevation. Such a 
 religion had not its origin in this world ! " 
 
 " I proceed now to observe, that its aim and objects are utterly 
 irreconcilable with inposture. They are pure, lofty, and worthy of the 
 most illustrious delegate of Heaven. Men act from motives. Chistianity 
 cannot be ascribed to any selfish, ambitious, to any earthly motive. It 
 is suited to no private end. Men have pretended to inspiration for the 
 sake of power, spiritual or political. Is Christianity to be explained 
 by this selhsh aim % I answer, No. The love of power is the last prin- 
 
217 
 
 ciple to be charged on its Founder. It enforces a'meek andjiumble spirit, 
 by its uncompromising reprobation of that passion of dominion, which had 
 in all ages made the many the prey of the few, and had been worshipped 
 as the attribute and impulse of the greatest minds. Jesus felt, as none 
 had felt before, the baseness of selfish ambition, and the grandeur of that 
 benevolence which waives every mark of superiority, that it may more 
 effectually bless mankind. His whole life was a commentary on his 
 teaching. He advanced to meet a death more suited than any other 
 imaginable event to entail infamy on his name. Stronger marks of an 
 infinite superiority to what the world calls glory, cannot be conceived, 
 than we meet in the history of Jesus." 
 
 " In ancient times, religion was every where a national concern. In 
 Judea, the union between religion and government was singularly close ; 
 and political sovereignty was one of the chief splendours with which the 
 Jewish imagination had surrounded the expected Messiah. That in such 
 an age and country a religion should arise, which hardly seems to know 
 that, government exists ; which says not a word, nor throws out a hint of 
 allying itself with the state ; which has no tendency to accumulate 
 power in particular hands ; which provides no form of national worship ; 
 — that such a religion should spring up in such a state of the world, 
 is. a remarkable fact. This is a striking proof of its originality and 
 elevation." 
 
 " Christianity approached men as individuals ; it proposed the perfec- 
 tion of the individual mind. It substituted the sway of truth and love 
 for menace and force, by establishing principles which nourish self- 
 respect in every human being ; and it teaches the obscurest to look 
 with undazzled eye on the most powerful of their race. It proscribes a 
 narrow patriotism ; shows no mercy to the spirit of conquest ; and com- 
 menced a political revolution, as original and unsparing as the religious 
 and moral reform at which it aimed." 
 
 " Some may ask , whether its founder did not aim to subdue men's 
 minds, to dictate the faith of the world, to stamp his name as a prophet 
 on human history ? One of the infallible marks of such a system is, 
 that it makes some terms with the passions and prejudices of man. It 
 does not provoke and ally against itself all the powers, whether civil or 
 religious, of the world. Christianity was throughout uncompromising 
 and exasperating, and threw itself in the way of hatred and scorn. 
 Was such a system a scheme for seizing the empire of the world ? It 
 has but one aim, which is, not to exalt its teacher, but to improve its 
 disciple, by breathing into him his spirit of universal love. It was not a 
 religion of forms. Neither is it a narrow creed. It may be summed up 
 in a few great, universal, immutable principles, which reason and con- 
 science, as far as they are unfolded, adopt and rejoice in as their own 
 everlasting laws, and which open perpetually enlarging views of the 
 mind." 
 
218 
 
 ' " It prescribes prayer, but lays the stress on the prayer of the closet ; 
 and treats all worship as worthless but that of the mind and the heart." 
 
 " I maybe told, that it has oppressive^ borne on men's souls ; that the 
 Christian ministry has trained tyrants, &c. .1 have no disposition to 
 soften the features of priestly oppression ; but I say, let not Christianity 
 be made to answer for it. Christianity gives no such power. They have 
 usurped it in the face of the sternest prohibitions, and in opposition to 
 its whole spirit.. No priesthood is instituted by Christianity, in the 
 original and proper sense of that word. Jesus appointed twelve of his 
 disciples to be the great instruments of propagating his religion ; but 
 nothing can be simpler than their office. It is true also, that they ap- 
 pointed teachers. But the New Testament no where intimates that these 
 were to monopolize the study, or its teaching. Its spirit is free to the 
 world. We see the greatest simplicity of aim. A perfect singleness of 
 design runs through the records, and that is, the moral perfection of 
 the soul." 
 
 I pass over the proofs by miracles, because T think 
 he fails to exhibit them free from the great objection — 
 of our incompetency to judge of these things. They 
 may be true or not : man's reason cannot deal witb these 
 things. They failed to convince several of his disciples, 
 and we may well be excused, from having no power to 
 judge of them. 
 
 Towards the close of the Essay he sums up after this 
 manly fashion : — 
 
 " Jesus stood apart from other men. He borrowed from none, and 
 leaned on none. He rose to a higher form of human nature than had 
 yet been realized or imagined, and deliberately devoted himself to its 
 promotion, as the supreme object of his life and death. He spoke with a 
 calm dignity, an unaffected elevation, which separated him from all other 
 teachers. Unsupported, he never wavered; sufficient to himself, he 
 refused alliance with wealth and power. Yet, with all self-subsistence 
 and uncompromising energy, his character was the mildest, the gentlest, 
 the most attractive, ever manifested among men. His philanthropy 
 comprehended the true wants and the true good of man ; and while it 
 compassionated his sufferings, it saw in the soul the deep fountain of 
 his miseries, and laboured, by regenerating this, to bring him to a pure 
 and enduring happiness. If Christianity had such a founder, it must 
 have come from Heaven." 
 
 " Since the death of Christ, a spirit of humanity, unknown before, has 
 silently diffused itself over a considerable portion of the globe. The 
 character of Christ has withstood the most deadly and irresistible foe of 
 error and unfounded claims, — time. It has lost nothing by the improve- 
 
219 
 
 ment of ages. Man has risen to purer philosophy, his views have become 
 enlarged ; but he must still look upward, if he would see and understand 
 the character of Christ. He is still above mankind. Nothing purer has 
 dawned on human thoughts. Then Christianity is true" 
 
 " I know our religion has been questioned by intelligent and good 
 men. Such men have questioned it, because they have known it chiefly 
 by its corruptions. In proportion as its original simplicity shall be 
 
 restored, the doubts of the well-disposed will yield We were 
 
 made for religion ; and unless the enemies of our faith can change 
 our nature, they will leave the foundations of religion unshaken. The 
 human soul was made to look above material nature. It wants a Deity 
 for its love and trust, and an immortality for its hope ; and Christianity 
 meets these deep wants of man. I have no doubt as to its final 
 triumph." 
 
 I wish these long extracts may please and comfort you 
 as they have me. This is a kind of argument, ad- 
 dressed to the reason of man, and generously allowing 
 for the weakness and infirmity of the judgment under 
 disbelief, which is unusual ; at all events, it is a manner 
 which much gratifies me. I like to be dealt with as 
 a rational being, and I dislike very much to be called 
 upon authoritatively to believe what I cannot comprehend 
 — to believe it, or to be a cast-away. I have never seen 
 such a definition of Christianity before — never seen it in 
 so simple a form, nor under such a commanding aspect. 
 It has always been a difficulty to me to read the Scriptures, 
 and to forget at the same time the gross additions of 
 man's illustration, and the subtle and mystical interpreta- 
 tion of the priesthood. I shall study it after another 
 manner now. 
 
 I would again caution you — beg of you to remember, 
 that these extracts do not stand in the same order and ap- 
 proximation in Channing's book. I have endeavoured 
 only to give an abridgment of the Essay — something 
 that will convey to you the spirit of the composition in 
 his own words, rather than in mine. 
 
 CXXI. 
 
 September 7, 1845. 
 This is the first exposition I have seen of the principles 
 of Unitarian Christianity, and I have been surprised to 
 see so little real difference between that church and our's. 
 
220 
 
 The greatest difference seems, Christ is God, on the one 
 hand ; and on the other, that Christ is the Son of God : 
 but both say, he is the Saviour of mankind. The differ- 
 ence therefore seems of amazingly little importance to 
 me. The practical influence and teaching are the same : 
 both strive for the same end, — man's purity and safety ; 
 by the same aid they would bring it to pass, — by Jesus 
 Christ. The one teaches faith as the cause of all reli- 
 gion, its precursor, and therefore the great, desideratum. 
 The other, that faith is important just as motive is im- 
 portant, and stands as principle does to good deeds,— 
 it is good only as it will impel you to act. One holds up 
 the theory of religion ; and the other, the practice of re- 
 ligion. Taking Jesus as the standard, his words and 
 deeds alone, the Unitarians have the best of the argu- 
 ment : taking St. Paul and St. John as the standard, 
 our Church has the victory. 
 
 Channing says, — 
 
 *' We regard the Scriptures as the records of God's successive revela- 
 tions to mankind, and particularly of the last and most perfect revelation 
 of his will by Jesus Cfirist. Whatever doctrines seem to us to be clearly 
 
 taught in the Scriptures, we receive without reserve or exception 
 
 Our leading principle in interpreting Scripture is this, — that the Bible is 
 a book written for men, in the language of men, and that its meaning 
 is to be sought in the same manner as that of other books. All books, 
 and all conversation, require in the reader or hearer the constant exer- 
 cise of reason ; every word, and every sentence, must be modified and 
 explained according to the subject which is discussed, according to the 
 purposes, feelings, circumstances, and principles of the writer, and 
 according to the genius and idioms of the language which he uses. Did 
 the Bible consist of words which admit but a single sense, there would 
 be no place for the principles now laid down. Perhaps however, of all 
 books, the Scriptures correspond least to this description. It has infinite 
 connections and dependences. Nothing stands alone. It is the com- 
 pletion of a vast scheme of Providence, requiring great extent of view 
 in the reader. Its style no where affects the precision of science. Its 
 language is singularly glowing, bold, figurative, and demanding more 
 frequent departures from the literal sense than that of our ace, and 
 consequently demanding more continual exercise of the judgment. We 
 find that the different portions of the book refer perpetually to the 
 times when they were written—to modes of thinking, to controversies in 
 the church, to feelings and usages, which have passed away. We find 
 too, that some of these books are strongly marked by the genius and 
 
221 
 
 character of the writers. With these views, we feel it our bounden duty 
 to exercise our reason perpetually, to look beyond the letter to the 
 spirit, to seek in the nature of the subject and the aim of the writer his 
 true meaning. 
 
 " Without these principles of interpretation, we frankly acknowledge 
 that we cannot defend the divine authority of the Scriptures. Deny us 
 this latitude, and we must abandon the book to its enemies." 
 
 Now this is the boundary line, the real dividing point, 
 of the two churches. The one says, our reason is insuf- 
 ficient to guide us in this reading, we therefore must take 
 it as we find it : and the other says, I have no other 
 means of reading at all, but by my reason ; I am com- 
 pelled to use it for every sentence I read. Again, how- 
 ever, it seems a mere quarrel about words ; for neither 
 reads literally — they are compelled to modify. The one 
 says, the Scriptures are absolutely the words of God ; 
 but they would explain God's obscurity in several parts. 
 The other reads the Scriptures as the words of man, but 
 says, their authority is infallible. I confess, both sides 
 puzzle me. 
 
 " We grant," Channing says, " that the use of the reason, in inter- 
 preting Scriptures, is accompanied with danger. But look back on the 
 history of the Church, and say, whether the renunciation of reason be not 
 still more dangerous. Say what we may, God has given us a rational 
 nature : revelation is addressed to us as rational beings." 
 
 And he says — 
 
 " If God be infinitely wise, he cannot sport with the understandings 
 of his creatures. A wise teacher discovers his wisdom in adapting 
 himself to the capacities of his pupils, not in perplexing them with 
 what is unintelligible, not in distressing them with apparent contradict 
 tions. He who knows the precise extent of our minds, and the best 
 method of enlightening them, will surpass all other instructors in 
 bringing down truth to our apprehension, and in showing its loveliness 
 and harmony. A revelation is a gift of light. It cannot thicken our 
 darkness, and multiply our perplexities." 
 
 This is the preface to his statements of Unitarian 
 doctrine. And then he proceeds, in this bold and decided 
 manner, to challenge the Trinitarians : — 
 
 " We believe in the doctrine of God's unity; or, that there is one God, 
 and one only. We object to the doctrine of the Trinity, that there 
 are three infinite and equal persons. We challenge our opponents to 
 
 L 
 
222 
 
 produce one passage in the New Testament, where the word God means 
 three persons — where it is not limited to one person, and where, unless 
 turned from its usual sense, it does not mean the Father. Can a stronger 
 proof be given, that the doctrine of three persons in the Godhead is not 
 a fundamental doctrine of Christianity ? We ask for only one passage 
 mentioning a three-fold being, or that he is three persons, Father, Son, 
 
 and Holy-Ghost We believe in the unity of Jesus Christ— that 
 
 he is one mind, one being, distinct from God. The doctrine of the 
 Trinity makes Jesus two minds — one divine, and one human. Where 
 is this spoken of in Scripture ? 
 
 " Jesus, in his preaching, continually spoke of God. The word was 
 always in his mouth. We ask, Does he, by this word, mean himself ? On 
 the contrary, he most plainly distinguishes between God and himself. 
 How this is to be reconciled with the idea, that the manifestation of 
 Christ as God was. a primary object of Christianity, our adversaries must 
 
 determine He is continually spoken of as the Son of God, sent 
 
 of God, receiving all his powers from God, judging justly because God 
 has taught him, and as able of himself to do nothing. Could it then 
 have been the great design of the sacred writers, to exhibit Jesus as the 
 Supreme God ? In many places of Scripture, human beings are called 
 gods, who are said to be partakers of his divine nature, to know and 
 possess all things, and to be filled with all God's fullness. These passages 
 we do not hesitate to modify, and turn from the obvious sense ; and we 
 maintain, that we adhere to the same principle in explaining, as we do, 
 the passages which are thought to support the godhead of Christ. 
 
 " Christ's equality furnishes them, they tell us, with an infinite atone- 
 ment, for it shows them an Infinite Being suffering for their sins. When 
 pressed with the question, whether they really believe that the Infinite 
 God suffered and died on the cross, they acknowledge that this is not 
 true, but that Christ's human mind alone sustained the pains of death. 
 How have we then an Infinite Sufferer ? This language seems to us an 
 imposition, as if this attribute could be satisfied by a sophism and a 
 fiction." 
 
 And then he gives this common-sense definition of 
 God's law upon man : — 
 
 " God is an infinitely just God, and his justice is in harmony with his 
 mercy. By mercy we understand, not a blind instinctive compassion, 
 which forgives without reflection, and without regard to the interests of 
 virtue. It defers punishment and suffers long, that the sinner may 
 return to his duty ; but leaves the impenitent and unyielding to the fear- 
 ful retribution threatened in God's word. We ascribe to him, not onlj- 
 the name, but the disposition and principles of a father. We believe 
 that he has a father's concern for his creatures, a father's desire for their 
 improvement, a father's equity in proportioning his commands to their 
 
223 
 
 powers, a father's joy in their progress, a father's readiness to receive the 
 penitent, and a father's justice for the incorrigible. 
 
 " We object to the teaching, that God brings us into life wholly 
 depraved, propense to all evil, which exposes us to damnation before we 
 have acquired power to understand our duties, or to reflect upon our 
 actions. We object to the teaching, that God selects from this corrupt- 
 mass a number to be saved, and plucks them, by a special influence, 
 from the common ruin ; that the rest of mankind, though left without 
 that special grace which their conversion requires, are commanded to 
 repent under penalty of aggravated woe ; and that forgiveness is pro- 
 mised them on terms which their constitution infallibly disposes them 
 to reject, and in rejecting which they awfully enhance the punishment 
 of hell. 
 
 " We rejoice to say, that nature, conscience, common sense, the 
 general strain of Scripture, the mild example and precepts of Jesus 
 Christ, counteract this blighting and miserable persuasion. It tends, 
 however, to discourage the mind, to give excuses to the bad, to feed the 
 vanity of the fanatical, and to offer shelter to the malignant." 
 
 And then he says— 
 
 " I now proceed to give our views of the mediation of Christ, and of 
 the purposes of his mission. We believe, that he was sent by the Father 
 to effect a moral or spiritual deliverance of mankind, — that is, to rescue 
 men from sin and its consequences, by his promises of pardon to 
 the penitent, and of Divine assistance to those who labour for progress 
 in moral excellence— by the light which he has thrown on the path 
 of duty — by his own spotless example — by his threatenings against in- 
 corrigible guilt — by his glorious discoveries of immortality — by his 
 sufferings and death — by his resurrection, which powerfully bore witness 
 to his divine mission — by his continual intercession— and by the power 
 with which he is invested, of raising the dead, judging the world, 
 and conferring the everlasting rewards promised to the faithful. 
 
 " We can endure no shade over the pure goodness of God. We 
 earnestly maintain, that Jesus was sent by God's mercy to be our 
 Saviour ; that he is nothing to the human race but what he is by God's 
 appointment ; that he communicates nothing but what God empowers 
 him to bestow ; that our Father in heaven is originally, essentially, and 
 eternally placable, and disposed to forgive ; and that his unborrowed, 
 undeserved, and unchangeable love is the only fountain of what flows to 
 us through his Son." 
 
 Whatever may be thought of this definition of Chris- 
 tianity, it has delighted me ; it has liberalized my ideas of 
 the Unitarians, and puts the difference into a nutshell, of 
 no great importance, I think. Neither party can prove 
 l 2 
 
224 
 
 the truth of their position ; and Christianity must be 
 left to the different readings of men. Most certainly 
 there is nothing worth quarrelling about: the very 
 quarrel is an insult to Christianity. 
 
 CXXII. 
 
 September 11, 1845. ' 
 As to the letter you speak of, — it is buried in my 
 strong box, never more to be seen, unless you have the 
 honour of publishing our clever correspondence! How 
 think you, in your good old age, will these effusions 
 appear to you ? Will they astonish your memory, and 
 make you feel indistinctly of your being — of its con- 
 tinuance and oneness ? If you change your name, not 
 
 even yourself will believe that Mary was the great 
 
 element of your existence. When you hereafter see, how 
 like a toiled deer some of these raised ghosts will pre- 
 sent you — when you see, how your poor heart panted for 
 escape, and yet loved the weaved net of man's subtle 
 management, — what then shall you think ? However 
 the case may be, my counsel is, Be decided ; do what you 
 mean to do, and don't temporize with your nature. Out 
 of indecision no good ever came. Still understand, that 
 due consideration is not indecision. The true difference 
 between is only seen by our practised judgment. 
 
 It is pleasant to me to hear you confess I have some 
 power over you, and particularly as it is of a worthy 
 kind ; nevertheless, such is my modesty, I do not calculate 
 upon a great quantity — not enough, at all events, to 
 make me presume upon your confession. If I can deepen 
 your cogitations, so as to make you cautious in acting 
 from mere impulse, and to ask carefully for the moving 
 power upon you, I shall be richly rewarded ; as, indeed, 
 while I am teaching you, I am teaching myself. 
 
 One of the great differences between a thoughtful mind 
 and a clever spirit is this: — the one makes a self-appli- 
 cation of surrounding circumstances for its own improve- 
 ment, and the other calculates how they will or may be 
 made to act upon another. Keep the bright image of 
 your own sanctity before you, and all things will go well 
 with you ; for this robs despair of its darkness, and the 
 weary heart of the poignancy of grief. . v 
 
225 
 
 But, to change the subject : — Have you read Sir W. 
 Molesworth's speech to the Electors of Southwark, in 
 yesterday's Times ? Here is a symptom of the great 
 change "taking place in public things— in the mode of 
 presenting them to the public mind. Our great ones, so 
 called, are beginning to see, that there is a thoughtfulness 
 even in our common people, something worthy of being 
 attended to. I have never read a more manly address, 
 one of more moral courage, and likely, too, to arouse 
 deep meditation even in an uneducated man. It has the 
 purpose of appealing to the understanding, and casts the 
 issue upon principle alone. This is the key even to a 
 sinner's heart, even to a grovelling spirit : they feel 
 compelled to have faith in a true man's utterance, though 
 they do not comprehend much of it. Such men as these 
 are the pioneers of the spirit and power of a people ; 
 and if they have faith in the seed they sow, and exhibit 
 the unfolding bud faithfully in themselves, the ripening 
 fruit cannot but be abundant. 
 
 To keep men in the dark, to hide the great truths of 
 life, because the common mind is supposed unfit to deal 
 with them, has been tried for thousands of years, and 
 always with unhappy results. It is time, therefore, to 
 begin another teaching ; for man is now inquisitive, he 
 can acquire, and, by usage, may comprehend many of 
 the profoundest laws of his governance. I believe that 
 speech of Molesworth's won him his election, although 
 it had not much to do with the merits of the case. The 
 voters felt flattered by this appeal to their reason ; and, 
 though Pilcher offered Mammon's gifts, they preferred 
 the sway of the mind. This is a secret worth knowing. 
 
 Read also, in the leading article of the same paper, 
 the congratulations of the Editor, not only to the Queen 
 of England, not only to the princes of the continent, 
 but to the general world, on its improved common sense, 
 and on the unfolding of the charitable spirit of the family 
 of man ; and then say, our public teaching is not im- 
 proving, and the common man is unfit for sacred truths 
 unless veiled and symbolized ! 
 
 The more I think of Moses' first instruction of Israel, 
 his design to lead them into a righteous sense of duty, I 
 am the more struck by his magnanimity and greatness 
 
226 
 
 of heart. How he failed — how he humoured the turbu- 
 lent spirit of a set of misled demagogues, and spoiled the 
 simplicity of his great work, is indeed most melancholy. 
 He wanted faith for continuance in duty, and, as the 
 Scriptures say, that was the reason why he saw not the 
 crown of his labour— led not his people into Canaan. 
 He substituted expediency, and claimed it as a merit. 
 His own skill he thought as good as God's purpose; i.e. 
 he feared, he doubted of righteousness. See Kitto's 
 masterly examination of this question. 
 
 There is a beautiful Essay of Channing's on Christ's 
 oneness, firmness, and simplicity — his unwavering sted- 
 fastness to abide by his task, through all hazards, through 
 any extreme, though violent death was the end of it for 
 himself. There is a large teaching for us all here : no 
 man has faith enough in this sense. 
 
 I am so struck by many of Channing's observations, 
 they so deeply move my mind — so change the current 
 of my old way of thinking, and deduce such various and 
 new consequences from things I have seen so long, as to 
 have an influence over me almost like a change of spirit. 
 Man's spirit is a creator, it can give new life to all things. 
 I feel that mind alone has the power of happiness; that 
 material objects must be spiritualized, to satisfy the soul. 
 Have you ever thought of that saying of Christ's, " All 
 things are yours ?" The Pope, indeed, took it to be a bond 
 fide gift of material things and power, but you under- 
 stand something else of it, different and better. To the 
 crowd, however, the calculation is a difficult one; the 
 cast seems perversely to go on the wrong side ! 
 
 CXXIII. 
 
 September 13, 1845. 
 Suffer me to send you a few extracts from Channing's 
 Essay on Self-denial. 
 
 u In insisting on the great principle, that true religion consists in 
 strength of moral purpose, in the soul's resolute determination of itself 
 to duty, I am satisfied that I express a truth which has a witness and 
 confirmation in the breast of every reflecting man. 
 
 " Every one of us who has adhered to duty, when duty brought no 
 recompense but the conviction of well- doing, who has faced the perils of 
 
227 
 
 a good cause with unshrinking courage, who has been conscious of an 
 inward triumph over temptation, conscious of having put down impure 
 motives and exalted good ones in his own heart, must remember the 
 clear and authentic voice, the accents of peculiar encouragement and 
 joy, with which the inward judge has at such seasons pronounced its 
 approving sentence." 
 
 " Think you it demands no power to calm the stormy elements of 
 passion, to moderate the vehemence of desire, to throw off the load of 
 dejection, to suppress every repining thought, when the dearest hopes 
 are withered, and to turn the wounded spirit from dangerous reveries and 
 wasting grief to the quiet discharge of ordinary duties % If there be a 
 man on earth to be envied, it is he who, amidst the sharpest assaults 
 from his own passions, never falters in his allegiance to God and the 
 inward monitor. So peculiar is the excellence of this moral strength, 
 that I believe the Creator regards one being who puts it forth with 
 greater complacency than he would look on a world of beings innocent 
 and harmless through the necessity of constitution. I know not that 
 human wisdom has arrived at a higher view of the present state, than 
 that it is intended to call forth power by obstruction, the power of 
 intellect by the power of knowledge, the power of conscience by tempta- 
 tion, pleasure, pain, and the alternations of prosperous and adverse life. 
 When I see a man holding faster his uprightness in proportion as it is 
 assailed, fortifying his religious trust in proportion as Providence is 
 obscure ; hoping in the ultimate triumphs of virtue, more surely in pro- 
 portion to its present afflictions ; cherishing philanthropy amidst the 
 discouraging experience of men's unkindness and unthankfulness ; 
 extending to others sympathy which his own sufferings need, but cannot 
 obtain ; growing milder and gentler amidst what tends to exasperate and 
 harden ; and, through inward principle, converting the very excitements 
 to evil into the occasions of a victorious virtue, — then I see an explana- 
 tion, and a noble explanation, of the present state ; then I see a light 
 thrown over the present state which more than reconciles me to all its 
 evils." 
 
 I leave these extracts alone in your hands; I could 
 not but injure them. 
 
 CXXIV. 
 
 September 15, 1845. 
 
 What a very useful creature you must be in P ! 
 
 you seem made to help other people, without drawing 
 many prizes yourself. But your time will come. Have 
 faith in the work of goodness; for its reward is for ever, 
 
228 
 
 and will bear the closest retrospection, and is fitted par- 
 ticularly for the time of the yellow leaf. 
 
 If I found fault with you, I should say, the superficies 
 of your nature are too much exposed to view, and the 
 inward spirit lies hidden too constantly, and kept unexer- 
 cised, and therefore wanting in its natural power. You 
 are too much afraid of trusting yourself, and avoid the 
 meditating upon your impulses, and so possibly do not 
 
 quite comprehend Mary . Your mental eye cannot 
 
 be too much exercised within. Act more upon yourself, 
 and suffer other persons to act less upon you. Is not 
 this impertinent now, think you ? 
 
 If the quotations from " Self-denial " have pleased 
 you, keep them as a sort of adjunct to your morning 
 prayer; it will act like the fly wheel to your mental 
 engine — keep your action under a uniform spirit, and 
 instil one great law, to regulate and sustain your every 
 deed of goodness. 
 
 He that says, " I don't know why I did certain things," 
 is nearly mentally blind. We can and ought to know 
 why ; and seeing why, is the easy way to overcome and 
 set aside many foolish and injurious consequences. This 
 is one explanation of the words " Watch and pray," Jest 
 you be not ready at the day of account — ready to meet 
 and contend with the results of your own improvidence. 
 One good thing connected with my counsel is, that I 
 probe myself; the words say to me, as Nathan said to 
 David, " Thou art the man." And I often wince when 
 setting up my fine indignation, as poor David did. 
 
 Let us test our sentiments by our duty — it will re-act 
 upon the monitor; for, like all things, it grows by usage, 
 by cultivation, and the sun's light ; and also, like all 
 things, it sleeps the sleep of death in a dark habitation. 
 Channing believes virtue and active goodness to be so 
 important, so conducive to man's happiness, as to believe 
 the conscience to be God's greatest revelation to man. It 
 is deposited in man's bosom, this germ is, for expansion, 
 for free action and growth. And his appeals are directed 
 to man, bravely to unfold it as his everlasting banner, 
 and to stand by it for ever. 
 
229 
 
 cxxv. 
 
 September 17, 1845. 
 My wife has just been telling me of an old maiden 
 lady who visited her yesterday, and who in other times 
 had been her governess. " She is 84," she says, " and 
 looks as healthy as possible. Poor old creature ! I hear 
 she lives just as she used to live, upon what would be 
 thought to starve any one else. She cooks a mutton 
 chop on Sunday, eats one half then, and the other half 
 on Tuesday. Other days have only potatoes and bread 
 and butter. Yet she looks in good condition. When I was 
 at school with her, she had half a dozen boarders, who 
 always complained bitterly of the food and its quantity. 
 Her maxim was,' Young ladies should never feed grossly.' 
 They were ' to get up from dinner with an appetite;' 
 and she practised what she taught. She always kept 
 her state, though, and made her penury look like high 
 principle. Her poor maid had the worst of it ; for she 
 was kept cold as well as hungry. She never cooked in 
 the kitchen. The meat was baked or stewed at the 
 baker's; potatoes were cooked in the school-room. This 
 old lady is now ' a visitor,' a lay reader, a counsellor of 
 economy, and a pot searcher, among the poor. ' Do 
 you know, madam,' she said to me, 'I have just called 
 on one of your father's tenants, a poor creature constantly 
 complaining, but who was eating new bread with her tea. 
 * Dear me ! ' I said to her, l how extravagant, to eat new 
 bread.' ' Law, madam!' the ignorant thing said, i God 
 A'mighty sends new bread; why may we not eat it? 
 1 You foolish woman,' I rejoined, l God Almighty does not 
 design new bread for such as you.' " So much for the 
 woman, and her teacher. This is enlightening the poor 
 by a queer process, I thought. 
 
 This is a different way of counselling the poor from 
 that recommended by Channing " On the Elevation of 
 the Working Classes." He says there — 
 
 " Man owes his growth, his energy, chiefly to that striving of the will, 
 that conflict with difficulty, which we call Effort. Manual labour is 
 a school in which men are placed, to beget energy of purpose and cha- 
 racter. They are placed indeed under hard masters, physical sufferings 
 L 5 
 
230 
 
 and wants, and the vicissitudes of all human things ; but these stern 
 teachers do a work which no compassionate friend could do for us ; and 
 true wisdom will bless Providence for their" sharp ministry. I believe 
 that difficulties are more important to the human mind than what we 
 call assistances. No business or study which does not present obstacles, 
 tasking to the full the intellect and the will, is worthy of a man." 
 
 " We must enlarge the labourer's conception of God. We must pre- 
 sent Him as the Father of our spirits, as ordaining all things wisely, as 
 looking with parental joy on our resistance of evil, as desirous of com- 
 municating Himself to our minds for ever. This one idea expanded in 
 the breast" of a labourer, is a germ of elevation more fruitful than any 
 
 other teaching He should be taught also, what a true man is. 
 
 He is a creature of reason ; has a conscience to discern right and wrong. 
 He should be taught that his neighbour is as precious as himself, and 
 his rights are as sacred as his own ;— to act therefore according to truth 
 and justice, however it may conflict with his seeming interest. That he 
 is a free-being, created to act from a spring in his own breast, to form 
 himself, and to decide his own destiny. That, though he is encompassed 
 with a thousand warring forces, and by the influences of a sinful world, 
 he is yet endued by God with power to contend with all which threaten 
 to overwhelm him. He should be taught, that he has a value in himself, 
 separate from the community ; that he exists for his own sake, for the 
 unfolding of his own nature, for his own virtue and happiness. .... 
 One great thought breathed into a man may regenerate him. Great 
 ideas come to us, less from laborious teaching, than from indirect influ- 
 ences, and from the native workings of our minds. Revelations of his 
 own soul, of God's intimate presence — of the deformity of wrong-doing, 
 of the might of moral principle, of the inward sources of happiness, — 
 these revelations come of themselves to a humble, self- improving man. 
 .... Sometimes a thought of this kind forms an era in life. It changes 
 the whole future life. It is a new creation. And these ideas are not 
 confined to men of any class. They are communications of the Infinite 
 Mind to all minds open for their reception ; and labour is a far better 
 condition for their reception than luxurious or fashionable life. One 
 purpose should be habitually predominant, that;is, to gain a larger, 
 clearer comprehension of all the duties of life. Thought cannot take 
 too wide a range ; but its chief aim should be, to acquire juster and 
 brighter conceptions of the right and the good, in every relation and 
 condition in which we may be placed. Let this be our highest aim. 
 This will throw a grace over our common employments, make them 
 sources of innocent cheerfulness, and give us strength, and courage, and 
 stability, amidst the sudden changes and sore temptations and trials of 
 life." 
 
231 
 
 In the next lecture, on much the same subject, he 
 
 says — 
 
 " Every human being is a volume worthy to ' be studied. The la- 
 bourer has the page always open before him ; he is, indeed, every day 
 writing a volume of instruction in his own life. No work can teach us 
 so much as the secrets of our own souls, in the workings of our own 
 passions, in the operations of our own intelligence, in the retributions 
 which follow our own good and evil deeds, in the dissatisfaction with 
 the present, which form part of every man's biography. The study of 
 our own history from childhood, of all the stages of our development, 
 of the good and bad influences which have beset us, of our mutations of 
 feelings and purposes/ and of the great current which is setting us 
 towards future happiness or woe, — this is a study to make us nobly wise ; 
 and who of us has not access to this fountain of Eternal Truth ? . . . . 
 The common notion, that the privileged few are made to think, the rest 
 to labour, I protest against. Is not the intellect as universal a gift as 
 the organs of sight and respiration ? " 
 
 If you cannot understand this teaching to be useful as 
 a detail, at least you will confess this to be the true germ, 
 the proper base to work from. If it be true that the 
 uneducated poor cannot be made to comprehend its use- 
 fulness, still the question presents itself — Do they pos- 
 sess any more appropriate teaching? is our pulpit elo- 
 quence more simple to their understandings ? I would 
 doubt the fact. As to the fashionable employment of 
 the bulk of our lay readers, of them I have a very hum- 
 ble opinion, for any good. 
 
 CXXVL 
 
 September 20, 1845. ' 
 I have a few more passages I desire to send you, from 
 the Essay before quoted : — 
 
 " The mind is more essential to human nature than the limbs. Is 
 not thought the right and duty of all ? The work of the intelligent is, 
 not to do other's thinking for them, but to help them to think more 
 vigorously and effectively. Great minds are to make others great. . . . 
 God is revealed in his smallest work, as truly as in his greatest. God 
 has not shut up the evidence of his being in a few books, but has written 
 his name on the heavens and on the earth, and even on the minutest 
 animal and plant ; and his word, taught by Jesus Christ, was not given 
 to scribes and lawyers, but taught to the poor, on mountains, in streets, 
 and on the sea-shore." 
 
232 
 
 " The precious, the living, the effectual part of a poor man's faith, is 
 that of which he sees the reasonableness and excellence ; that which 
 approves itself to his own intelligence, his conscience, his heart ; that 
 which answers to deep wants in his own soul, and of which he has the 
 witness in his own inward and outward experience. All other parts 
 of his belief, those which he takes on blind trust, and in which he sees 
 no marks of truth and divinity, do him little or no good.". 
 
 And then follows this wholesome, but, to many, 
 unpalatable admonition to rank and caste : — 
 
 " It is objected, that the distinction of ranks is essential to social orden 
 and that this will be swept away by calling forth the energy of thought 
 in all men. I reply, that it is a libel on the Creator, to suppose that He 
 requires, as the foundation of communities, the systematic depression of 
 the majority of his intelligent offspring. Men may work in different 
 departments of life, and yet recognise their brotherly relation, and 
 honour one another. Undoubtedly men will prefer, as friends and 
 common associates, those with whom they sympathise most. But to be 
 prosperous, is not to be superior. The distinctions should be of the soul, 
 of strong principle, of usefulnesss, of moral culture, and of fidelity. To 
 make dress and upholstery a superiority, is to exalt the outward above 
 the inward — the material above the spiritual. 
 
 iC Not very long ago, the intercourse of the higher orders in Europe 
 was sulhed by great indelicacy and fierceness ; but time has worn out 
 these stains, and the same cause is removing what is repulsive among 
 those who toil with their hands. But allow these opinions to have a foun- 
 dation, suppose high fences of rank to be necessary to refinement of 
 manners, and that we have reason to look with envy on the past, one 
 thing is plain,— the past is gone, the feudal castle is dismantled, the 
 distance between classes greatly reduced. Unfortunate as it may be, 
 the people have begun to think, to ask reasons for what they do, and 
 suffer, and believe, and to call the past to account. They will no longer 
 be quiet when trodden under foot ; but ask impatiently for a reason why 
 they too may not have a share in social blessings. Right or wrong, 
 people will think ; and is it not important they should think justly ! It 
 is plain, nothing can avail us but a real improvement of the mass of the 
 people. No stable foundation can be laid for us but in men's minds. 
 Mightier powers than institutions have come into play among us, — the 
 judgment, the feelings, the opinions of the many ; and all hopes which 
 do not rest on the progress of the many, must perish." 
 
 " The last ground of hope for the elevation of the labourer," he after- 
 wards says, " and the chief and the most sustaining, is the clearer 
 development of the principles of Christianity. The future influences of 
 this religion are not to be judged by the past up to this time. It has been 
 made a political engine. But its true spirit, the spirit of brotherhood and 
 
 
233 
 
 freedom, is beginning to be understood ; and this will undo the work 
 
 which opposite principles have been carrying on for ages Through 
 
 the development of the Christian spirit, we shall perceive the evil 
 doctrine, worthy of the arch-fiend, that social order demands the depres- 
 sion of the mass of men." 
 
 At the close of the lecture, he says — 
 
 " In these lectures I have expressed a strong interest in the mass of 
 men. My mind is attached [to them because they constitute the ma- 
 jority of the human race. My great interest is in human nature, and in 
 the working men as its most numerous representatives. Some persons 
 may fancy this mere passion' or poetry. No matter. The pity of these 
 people I can return. Their wonder at my credulity cannot surpass the 
 sorrowful astonishment with which I look on their indifference to the 
 fortunes of their race. When I behold it manifested in its fairest pro- 
 portions in Jesus Christ, I cannot but revere it as the Temple of the 
 Divinity. I do, and I must hope for its progress. 
 
 " I am not blind, however, to its dangers — to the doubtful issue of the 
 great movement now going on, if not wisely directed The pre- 
 sent civilization of the Christian world" presents much to awaken doubt 
 and apprehension. It stands in direct hostility to the great ideas of 
 Christianity ; it is selfish, mercenary, sensual. I trust, however, that 
 the existing social state contains in its bosom something better than it 
 
 has yet unfolded I see new wants and aspirations beginning to 
 
 unfold themselves. Let what is won give us courage. Let faith in a 
 parental Providence give us courage ; and if we are to be disappointed in 
 the present, let us never doubt that the great interests of human nature 
 are still secure under the eye and ear of its great Almighty Friend. 
 
 CXXVII. 
 
 September 23, 1845. 
 In Channing's Essay, " The Present Age," he has 
 portrayed Wordsworth in a manner to please you. Look- 
 ing at Wordsworth's poetry under the same view as 
 your's, it changes what appears to so many a mere affec- 
 tation, into a great sympathy for the lower classes of the 
 human family. He says — 
 
 " The works of genius of our age breathe a spirit of universal sym- 
 pathy. The great poet of our times, Wordsworth, has gone to the feel- 
 ings of our universal nature, for beautiful and touching themes. This 
 man can see everlasting beauty under disguises and humble forms ; he 
 can discern, and reveal it, in the ordinary walks of life, in the common 
 human heart. He has revealed the loveliness of the primitive feelings. 
 
234 
 
 of the universal affections, of the soul. The grand truth whieh pervades 
 his poetry is, that the beautiful is not confined to the rare, the new, the 
 distant, and to scenery and modes of life open only to the few ; that it 
 gleams in the lowliest flower ; that it lights up the humblest sphere ; that 
 the sweet affections lodge in the lowly hearts; that there is sacredness, 
 dignity, and loveliness in lives which few eyes rest on ; that even in the 
 absence of all intellectual culture, the domestic affections can quietly 
 nourish the disinterestedness which is the element of all greatness, and 
 without which intellectual power is a splendid deformity. .... Words- 
 worth is the poet of humanity ; he teaches reverence for our universal 
 nature — he breaks down the factitious barriers between human hearts." 
 The portrait of Scott too, is interesting : — 
 
 " He had this feeling in an inferior degree. He had a childish love of 
 rank, titles, and show ; and, in general, looked with a keener eye on the 
 outward life than into the soul. Still he sympathises with his race. 
 He was just to his human brethren. A reconciling spirit breathes 
 through his writings. He seizes on the interesting and beautiful features 
 in all conditions of life ; gives us bursts of tender and noble feelings even 
 from rude nations ; and continually knits some new tie between the 
 reader and the vast varieties of human nature which start up under his 
 teeming pen. He had the eye to catch the stream of sweet affections 
 
 as it wound its way through humble life His e Jeanie Deanes/ 
 
 and his ' Jewish Maiden,' are his highest conceptions of female noble- 
 ness." 
 
 Of Dickens he says — 
 
 " He has sought and found subjects of thrilling interest in the 
 passions, sufferings, and virtue of the mass of the people. He shows 
 that life in its rudest forms may wear a tragic grandeur ; that, amidst 
 follies and sensual excess, provoking laughter or scorn, the moral feel- 
 ings do not wholly die ; and that the haunts of the blackest crimes 
 are sometimes lighted up by the presence and influence of the noblest 
 souls. He has, indeed, greatly erred in turning so often the degradations 
 of humanity into matters of sport ; but the tendency of his dark pictures 
 is, to awaken sympathy with our race, to change the unfeeling indiffer- 
 ence which has prevailed towards the depressed multitude into sorrowful 
 and indignant sensibility to their wrongs and woes." 
 
 I think these extracts a happy commentary, an eluci- 
 dation indeed, of the spirit of his previous Essay. It is a 
 masterly proof of the soundness of his argument, and 
 exhibits the practical power of his teaching. If com- 
 mon men have the germ of the noblest feelings within 
 them, they can be developed. It is the diamond un- 
 polished. In speaking of the trail of circumstances — 
 
235 
 
 how the present is the expression of what has preceded, 
 he says — 
 
 " Communities fall by the vices of the "great, not of the small. 
 Whence came the French Revolution 1 Not by the Jacobins, but by 
 the antecedent governors of France. The priesthood, the statesmen — 
 the profligate, the shameless— the Court, and its prostitutes,— these made 
 the nation bankrupt, broke asunder the bonds of loyalty, and over- 
 whelmed the throne and its altars. We remember too vividly the effect, 
 without thinking enough of the guiltier cause. Bloodshed is indeed a 
 terrible spectacle, but there are other things almost as terrible as blood. 
 There are crimes that do not make us start and turn pale, like the 
 guillotine, but are deadlier in their workings." 
 
 It would be well if the timid, and if the haughty too, 
 would comitate on the following passage, which is the 
 summary of the subject : — 
 
 " When I hear the "Revolution quoted to frighten us from reform, 
 I must ask, whence it came ? The true answer is, from the intolerable 
 weight and tyranny of the rulers — from the want of culture among the 
 mass of her people — from the corruption of the great, too deep to be 
 purged away, except by destruction." 
 
 Of our present sin in high places, he says — 
 
 " Grasping accumulation and display are at the root. It is not only 
 in the field of battle that men fight. They fight on the Exchange. 
 Business is war, a conflict of skill, and too often of fraud : to snatch 
 the prey from our neighbour, is the end of all this stir. Religion is war ; 
 Christians gather together to gain victory for their sect. Politics are 
 war, breaking the whole people into fierce and unscrupulous parties, 
 which forget their country in conflicts for office and power. But still 
 T have hope. I would not live without hope. History, Philosophy, 
 and Christianity, promise a better era." 
 
 CXXVIII. 
 
 September 26, 1845. ! 
 You are good enough to say, that my long extracts 
 please you ; and if so, you must be glad to see the fol- 
 lowing quotations from the Essay on the Evidences of 
 Revealed Religion. There is a manly simplicity, and a 
 fearlessness also, in testing the great objections hitherto 
 made to the Christian religion, and an earnest boldness 
 in challenging inquiry into its mere fitness for man's 
 mind, that makes its study as delightful as it is perfectly 
 new to me. 
 
236 
 
 The first part of the Essay relates to the miracles in 
 support of its divinity, which, because, as I have before 
 stated to you, of my complete difficulty of comprehend- 
 ing them in any other sense than as simple authority, 
 and not as argument, I shall pass over. After rapidly 
 running through much of the argument before used in 
 another Essay, upon the complete distinctness of Christ's 
 power from the power of all other teachers, and from all 
 the principles of teaching then or before existing, he 
 proceeds to speak thus of the expectation of the Jews : — 
 
 " Jesus came to a nation expecting a Messiah ; and he claimed this 
 character. But, instead of conforming to the opinions which prevailed 
 in regard to the Messiah, he resisted them wholly and without reserve. 
 This undisguised hostility to the dearest hopes and prejudices of the 
 nation— this disdain of the usual compliances by which ambition and 
 imposture conciliates adherents — this deliberate exposure of himself to 
 rejection and hatred, cannot easily be explained by the common prin- 
 ciples of human nature, and excludes the possibility of selfish aims in 
 the author of Christianity. One striking peculiarity in Jesus is the 
 extent, the vastness of his views. While all around him looked for 
 a Messiah to liberate God's ancient people, Jesus came declaring himself 
 to be the deliverer and light of the world ; and in his whole teaching 
 and life you see a consciousness, which never forsakes him, of a relation 
 to the whole human race. This idea of blessing mankind, of spreading 
 universal religion, was the most magnificent which had ever entered man's 
 mind. No conqueror, legislator, philosopher, in the extravagance of am- 
 bition, had ever dreamed of subjecting all nations to a common faith." 
 
 " Compare next these views of Christ with his station in life. He was 
 of humble birth and education, with nothing in his lot, with no extensive 
 means, to infuse vast thoughts and extravagant plans. That a young 
 man, in obscure life, belonging to an oppressed nation, should seriously 
 think of subverting the time-hallowed and deep-rooted religions of the 
 world, is a strange fact : but with this purpose we see the mind of Jesus 
 thoroughly imbued, and, sublime as it is, he never falls below it in his 
 language or conduct, but speaks and acts with a consciousness of superi- 
 ority, with a dignity and authority becoming this unparalleled distinc- 
 tion. And then add the calm confidence with which he looked forward 
 to the accomplishment of his design. He fully knew the strength of 
 the passions and powers which were arraj-ed against him, and was per- 
 fectly aware that his life was to be shortened by violence ; yet not a 
 word escapes him implying a doubt of the ultimate triumph of his 
 religion." 
 
 " The views hitherto taken of Christ relate to his public character and 
 office. If we pass to what may be called his private character, we shall 
 
23? 
 
 receive the same impression of inexplicable excellence. The most 
 striking trait in Jesus was, undoubtedly, his benevolence ; and although 
 that virtue had existed before, yet it had not been manifested in the 
 same form and extent. Christ's benevolence was distinguished, first, by 
 it's expansiveness. Love to man as man, love comprehending the hated 
 Samaritan, the despised publican, was a feature which separated Jesus 
 from the best men of his nation and the world. Another characteristic 
 of the benevolence of Jesus was its gentleness and tenderness, forming a 
 strong contrast with the hardness and severity of the spirit and manners 
 which then prevailed. But its most distinguishing feature was its 
 superiority to injury. Revenge was one of the recognised rights of the 
 age in which he lived ; some few sages had condemned it, yet none had 
 inculcated the duty of regarding one's enemies with that kindness which 
 God manifests to sinful men, and of returning curses with prayers and 
 blessings He joined strong feeling and self-possession, an indig- 
 nant sensibility to sin, with compassion to the sinner ; an active devotion 
 to his work, with calmness under opposition and ill success ; the superi- 
 ority which became the Saviour of the world, to the tenderness and 
 gratitude of a Son. Such was the Author of our religion." 
 
 " His religion might be shown to abound in circumstances which 
 contradict and repel the idea of a human origin. For example, its 
 inculcation of universal charity — the stress which it lays on inward purity 
 — its substitution of spiritual worship for the forms and ceremonies 
 which had every where usurped the name and extinguished the life of 
 religion— its preference of humility, and of the passive virtues, to the 
 dazzling qualities which had usurped man's admiration — its consistent 
 discoveries of immortality — its adaptation to all conditions — its pure yet 
 practical morality — its high and generous motives — and its fitness to 
 form a character which plainly prepares man for a higher life than the 
 present ; these are the peculiarities of Christianity." 
 
 " But, passing by these topics, I will make one remark on this reli- 
 gion, which strikes my mind very forcibly. Since its introduction our 
 human nature has made great progress, and society experienced great 
 changes ; and, in this advanced condition of the world, Christianity, 
 instead of losing its application and importance, is found to be more and 
 more congenial and adapted to man's nature and wants. Men have 
 outgrown the other institutions of that period, its philosophy, its modes 
 of warfare, its policy, its public and private economy ; but Christianity 
 has never shrunk as intellect has opened, but has always kept in 
 advance of man's faculties, and unfolded nobler views in proportion as 
 
 they have ascended The religion bears marks of having come 
 
 from a Being who perfectly understood the human mind, and had power 
 to provide for its progress. It was an anticipation of future and distant 
 ages ; and when we consider among whom our religion sprung, where 
 but in God, can we find an explanation of this peculiarity 1 " 
 
238 
 CXXIX. 
 
 September 27, 1845. 
 The next Essay of Channing's is on the " Christian 
 Ministry," and is indeed deserving the deepest attention 
 of all people, but particularly of our ministry. I should 
 have little hesitation in asserting, that nearly all of our 
 preachers have a great deal to learn, not of theology, 
 but of the manner of teaching it. They speak above the 
 comprehension of their congregations, and then complain 
 of apathy, as if any soul could attend to what he cannot 
 understand. 
 
 " A minister should have power to act on intelligent and free beings, 
 by [means ■ proportioned to their nature, — power to call into healthy- 
 exertion the intellect, conscience, affections, and moral will of the hearer. 
 .... He is to speak not of this world only, but of invisible and more 
 advanced states of being, of which a presage and earnest may be found 
 in the enlightened and purified mind. He has to speak of virtue, of the 
 love which is due to the Universal Father and to fellow-beings, of the 
 intercourse of the soul with its Creator, and of all the duties of life, as 
 hallowed and elevated by a reference to God and the future world. He 
 has to speak of sin, that essential evil, that only evil, which, by its un- 
 utterable fearfulness, makes all other calamities unworthy the name. 
 
 " The first purpose of a minister's function is to enlighten the under- 
 standing — no easy task, for religious truth is not obvious and irresistible. 
 Obstacles neither few nor small, are found in the invisibleness of its 
 objects ; in the disproportion between the Creator and the finite mind ; 
 and in the errors' and superstitions which have come down to us from 
 past ages, and which exert an unsuspected power on our whole modes 
 of religious thinking. The tone of authority with which it has been 
 taught, the terror and obscure phraseology in which it has been 
 shrouded, and the unlovely aspect which it has been made to wear, have 
 concurred to repel from it deliberate and earnest attention, and to 
 reconcile men to a superficial mode of thinking, which they would scorn 
 on any other subject. The result is, that it is indistinctly apprehended, 
 is shadowy and unreal to the multitude, more so than any other truth. 
 The loose conceptions which prevail, among the high as well as the low, 
 do not deserve the name of Christian knowledge. The loftiest minds 
 among us seldom put forth their strength on the very subject for which 
 intelligence was especially given. A great revolution is needed here. 
 And does it need no power, no energy in the teacher, to bring religion 
 before the intellect as its worthiest object, to raise men's traditional, 
 lifeless, superficial faith, into deliberate, profound conviction ? " 
 
239 
 
 " It is an important branch of the minister's duty, to turn the indivi- 
 dual mind upon itself ; to rouse it to a resolute, impartial survey of its 
 own responsibilities and ill-deserts ; and to place the man before a 
 tribunal in his own breast, as solemn and searching as that which awaits 
 him at the last day. It is indeed not so difficult to rouse the timid and 
 susceptible, to terrify weak people into the idea that they are to answer 
 for sins inherited from the first fallen pair, and entailed upon them 
 by a stern necessity. But this feverish action of the conscience is 
 its weakness, not its strength ; and the teacher who would rouse the 
 moral sense to discriminating judgment and faithful feeling, has need of a 
 vastly higher kind of power than is required to darken and disease it. 
 
 " The Christian minister has a great work to do in the human heart. 
 He must call forth towards God the profoundest awe, attachment, 
 trust, and joy, of which human nature is capable. Religion demands 3 
 that He who is supreme in the universe should be supreme in the 
 
 human soul His great purpose, I repeat it, is to give vitality to 
 
 the thought of God in the human mind, to make his presence felt, to 
 make Him a reality, and the most powerful reality of the soul. He must 
 inculcate a piety characterized by wisdom as much as by warmth ; to 
 mediate between the reason and the affections, so that with joint energy 
 and in blessed harmony they may rise together and offer up the indivi- 
 dual soul to God With many devout people, the natural move- 
 ments of the soul are depressed, the social affections damped, the grace, 
 the ornament, and innocent exhilarations of life frowned upon ; and a 
 gloomy, repulsive religion is cultivated, which, by way of compensation 
 for its privations, claims a monopoly of God's favour, abandoning all to 
 his wrath who will not assume its own sad livery, and echo its own 
 sepulchral tones. Through such exhibitions, this most ennobling of 
 all sentiments, dilating the soul with vast thoughts and an unbounded 
 hope, has been thought to contract and degrade it. 
 
 " It is the minister's duty to rouse men to self-conflict, to warfare 
 with the evil of their hearts. The sorest calamities of life, sickness, 
 poverty, scorn, and death, form a less amount of desolation and suffer- 
 ing than is included in that one word, sin, — in revolt from God, in 
 disloyalty to conscience, in the tyranny of the passions, in the thraldom 
 of the soul's noblest powers. 
 
 " To redeem man from sin was Christ's great end. To pierce them 
 with a consciousness of sin is an essential part therefore of a minister's 
 
 duty He should exalt the man, spiritualize his faculties, and 
 
 point him to the great end of being. Perhaps I shall be told, that men 
 are incapable of rising to this height of thought and feeling. But let 
 us never despair of our race. There are sublime instincts in man. 
 There is a want in human nature which the world cannot supply ; 
 a thirst for objects on which to pour forth more fervent admiration and 
 love, than visible things awaken ; a thirst for the unseen, the infinite, the 
 
240 
 
 everlasting. Most of you have had moments when a new light seemed 
 to dawn, a new life to stir within you ; when you have been touched by 
 moral greatness and disinterested love ; when you have longed to break 
 every chain of selfishness and sensuality, and enjoy a purer being. It 
 is on this part of our nature that religion is founded. To this Chris- 
 tianity is addressed." 
 
 He then goes into the question of the young minister's 
 education, and makes many observations that I think 
 very original and very striking. Among them, he 
 
 says — = 
 
 " The mind grows by free action. Confine it to beaten paths, and 
 you rob it of elasticity and hope. Teach the young man that he has a 
 divine intellect, for which he is to answer to God. Encourage him on 
 all great questions to hear both sides. Guard him against silencing 
 its whispers and objections. Do not give him the shadow of freedom, 
 by telling him to inquire, but prescribing to him the convictions at which 
 
 he must stop I know the objections to this course. It puts to 
 
 hazard, we are told, the religious principles of the young. The danger 
 is not unreal. But I know no method of forming a manly intellect, or 
 a manly character, without danger. Peril is the element in which 
 power is developed. Remove the youth from every hazard, keep him 
 in leading-strings lest he should stray into forbidden paths, surround 
 him with down lest he should be injured by a fall, shield him from wind 
 and storms, and you doom him to perpetual infancy. All liberty is 
 perilous. Freedom of will is almost a tremendous gift. Freedom, 
 however, is the nurse of intellect and moral vigour. Better expose the 
 mind to error than rob it of hardihood and individuality. .... Keep 
 not the destined teacher of mankind from the perilous field where the 
 battle between Truth and Falsehood is fought. Let him grapple with 
 difficulty, sophistry, and error. Truth is a conquest ; and no man 
 holds her so fast as he who has won her by conflict." 
 
 Here speaks a veritable man, a fearless man, made so 
 by knowledge and wisdom ; and so I finish my quota- 
 tions from Channing. 
 
 exxx. 
 
 September 28, 1845. 
 
 I have again taken up Emerson's Essays, to see what 
 
 harmony exists between these two luminaries of the new 
 
 world. I have often thought they dealt with and 
 
 exhibited the same principles, though in so different a 
 
241 
 
 manner. Many thoughts have occurred to me, in 
 meteor fashion, of something I cannot comprehend, 
 some "writings on the wall" of my intelligence, the 
 import and character of which I cannot make out. I 
 go to books for the shape and signification of them, 
 and so get some faint explanation, some embodying of 
 my incongruous ideas. Shall I seem altogether wild 
 to you, altogether presumptuous, if I quote a few sen- 
 tences that give an inkling of my whereabout ? 
 
 " Intellect," Emerson says, " lies behind and above genius : genius 
 is only its constructive power. Its vision is not like the vision of the 
 eye, but is in union with the things known. The intellect goes out of 
 the individual, floats over its own personality, and regards it as a fact, 
 and not as / and mine. No other can see the problem of existence. . . . 
 As a ship aground is battered by the waves, so man, imprisoned in mortal 
 
 life, lies open to the mercy of coming events The mind that grows 
 
 eannot predict the times, the means, the mode of that spontaneity. 
 God enters by a private door into every individual. Long prior to the 
 
 age of reflection is the thinking of the mind What am I ? What 
 
 has my will done to make me what I am ? I have been floated into 
 
 this thought, this hour, this connexion of events We do 'not 
 
 determine what we will think : we only open our senses, clear away, as 
 we can, all obstruction from the fact, and suffer the intellect to see. 
 Logic is the procession of the proportional unfolding of the intuition. 
 All progress is an unfolding. A true man never acquires after college 
 
 rules The walls of rude minds are scrawled over with facts, 
 
 with thoughts : they shall see the light of them as they have power. 
 When the time of reflection comes, when we take pains to observe, 
 when we keep the mind's eye open, then we learn the secret law of 
 facts. We often all but apprehend, we dimly forebode the truth ; and 
 in some moment, as of pure spontaneity, the truth flashes in. So now 
 labour, and then wait, and see what the great soul showeth." 
 
 " Perhaps, if we should meet Shakespeare, we should not be con- 
 scious of any steep inferiority ; only, that he possessed a strange skill 
 of using, of classifying facts, which we lacked. For, notwithstanding 
 our utter incapacity to produce like him, see the perfect reception his 
 wit,' and immense knowledge of life, and liquid eloquence, find in us all. 
 The whole series of natural images lies in your intellect, though you 
 knew it not ; and a thrill of passion flashes light into your dark chamber, 
 and discovers all. It is long ere we discover how rich we are." 
 
 " The constructive intellect produces thoughts, sentences, designs, 
 systems. It is the generation of the mind. To genius must always 
 go two gifts, — the thought, and the publication. The first is always a 
 miracle, a revelation, which no frequency can familiarize, but which 
 
242 
 
 must leave the inquirer stupid with wonder/ The ray of light passes 
 invisible through space, and only when it fails on an object is it seen. 
 When the spiritual energy is directed on something outward, then is it 
 a thought. Not by any conscious imitation of particular forms are the 
 grand strokes of the painter executed, but by repairing to the fountain- 
 head of all forms in his mind. A good form strikes all eyes pleasantly, 
 long before they have any science on the subject. We may owe to 
 dreams some light on the foundation of this skill ; for see then what 
 cunning draughtsmen Ave are. Wonderful forms spring before us, and 
 the mystic pencil has no awkwardness, no poverty, but can design and 
 
 group well It is true also, that the discerning intellect is always 
 
 greatly in advance of the creative. A new thought is often only an old 
 one with a new face. The truth is in us, before it is reflected from 
 another object; and the profound genius will cast the likeness of all 
 creatures into every product of his wit. 
 
 iC We have the choice of knowledge and repose. The idle will accept 
 the first creed, the first philosophy, the first political party he meets. 
 He who loves truth, and seeks it, will keep aloof from all moorings, 
 and afloat. He respects the highest law of his being too much to be 
 imprisoned in a party. Happy is the contemplative man. As long 
 as I hear devoutly, I am not conscious of any limits to my nature. 
 The waters of the great deep have ingress and egress to my soul. Silence 
 is a solvent that destroys personality, and gives us leave to be great 
 
 and universal. Entire self-reliance belongs to the intellect In 
 
 reading the oldest records, in reading the oldest opinions, I am present 
 then. I am present at the sowing of the seed of the world." 
 
 These are extracts from the Essay on Intellect. They 
 deal with the hidden spirit of man, with the invisible 
 creative power of the soul. Because you may not 
 understand them at first reading, they are not therefore 
 obscure. The words of Christ's majestic and myste- 
 rious power will explain them. It is the union of the 
 Divine Spirit with man's nature. 
 
 CXXXI. 
 
 September 29, 1845. 
 I thought I should have received your notice to quit 
 to-day: I am agreeably disappointed. I feel my hold, 
 my tenancy, very insecure however ; cannot" you give me 
 a lease for a term of years? I am thankful nevertheless 
 for what I get: — the young ones are the impatient and 
 the importunate. You say you are in some sorrow j but 
 
243 
 
 is it usual for sorrow to express itself in such a merry 
 manner ? You seem " a rule of contrary :" high pressure 
 produces dejection, and low pressure, joy ! And then 
 see what an eccentric whirl is this : — " There is nothing 
 to answer in your last letters ; though there is much on 
 which I could comment, only I am idle." Capital logic 
 this, young lady ! People say, the best definition of 
 idleness is emptiness. You are a sort of locomotive 
 at rest, and turning off the '[extra steam, — a fizzer, for 
 want of useful direction. However, it is pleasant even 
 so displayed, for one sees the power could be great and 
 serviceable : but the " engine-man " must be a knowing 
 hand ; a mere stoker would make l{ a blow-up " of it. 
 
 That's hilarious enough about your age and dress. 
 Like so many of you, it is impossible for you to forget 
 you have not yet fetched your errand; — wherein, as 
 some say, lies an enigma. 
 
 Your " belief and strong trust" is better without a 
 form. Let the ear and the eye be cognisant, earnest, 
 and ready always for action. Perhaps many things are 
 better guides than sectarian doctrines. 
 
 Your remarks on Paley I think very just. His book 
 is striking, his style is simple and pleasing, and the 
 illustrations natural and familiar in the best sense of the 
 words. But, after perusing the work, and asking for the 
 effect, it is difficult to say what precise knowledge you 
 have gained. Channing acts more upon the intelligence, 
 provokes thoughtful effort and examination ; he probes 
 deeper, and deals more pertinently with its appositeness 
 for the soul of man. 
 
 If you feel a little overdone with my long extracts, 
 you know your remedy — I suppose you have begun 
 fires. 
 
 The Essay of Emerson's, "The Over Soul," is the 
 most difficult to comprehend of any part of his book. 
 1 confess, I cannot clearly see its design. Sometimes I 
 have thought he intends to convey the idea of one great 
 soul for the universe, made up of parts, of which man's 
 universal mind is the sum. Jt is a mystic thing, sha- 
 dowing forth intense thought, but has not much defini- 
 tion. There seems some great idea in the man, but as 
 yet it has not received complete form; or, possibly, 
 
244 
 
 the want of sight is in me. How readest thou the 
 following? — 
 
 " There is a difference between one and another hour of life, in their 
 authority and subsequent effect. Our faith comes in moments ; our 
 vice is habitual. Yet is there a depth in those brief moments, which 
 constrains us to ascribe more reality to them than to all other experi- 
 ences. For this reason, the argument that would silence man's hope of 
 himself, is for ever invalid and vain. A greater hope abolishes despair. 
 We give up the past to the objector ; all experience, and yet we hope. 
 We grant that human life is mean ; but how did we find out that it was 
 mean ? What is the ground of this uneasiness of ours, of this old 
 discontent ? What is the universal sense of want and ignorance, but the 
 fine inuendo, by which the great soul makes its enormous claim ? . . . . 
 Man is a stream whose source is hidden. Always our being is descend- 
 ing into us, from whence we know not. I am constrained to acknow- 
 ledge a higher origin than the will I call mine. We rest in unity, in that 
 Over Soul, within which every man's particular being is contained and 
 made one with all other. We live in succession, in division, in parts. 
 Meantime within man is the soul of the whole." 
 
 And again, how understandest thou this ? — 
 
 " All goes to show, that the soul in man is not an organ, but animates 
 and exercises all other organs ; is not a function, like the power of 
 memory, of calculation, of comparison, but uses these as hands and feet. 
 It is above the intellect, is the vast back-ground of our being, in which 
 they lie. From within us a light shines through us upon things, and 
 makes us aware that we are nothing, but the light is all." 
 
 " This sovereignty," he says, " is independent of time and space. As 
 the influence of the senses is removed, so we 
 
 ' Can crowd eternity into an hour," 1 
 e ^Or stretch an hour into eternity.' " 
 
 " Some thoughts always find us young, and keep us so. Is the teach- 
 ing of Christ less effective now than it was when first his mouth was 
 opened \ The emphasis of facts and persons to my soul has nothing 
 to do with time. And so, always, the soul's scale is one ; the scale of the 
 senses and of the understanding is another. The things we now esteem 
 fixed shall, one by one, detach themselves, like ripe fruit, from our 
 experience, and fall. But the soul looks steadily forwards, creating a 
 world always before her. The soul knows only the things of the soul ; 
 all else are weeds for her wearing." 
 
 But attend to this passage : — 
 
 " One mode of the Divine teaching is the incarnation of the Spirit in 
 a form— in forms like my own. I live with such beings, answer to like 
 thoughts, express and possess the same instincts. I am certified of a 
 
245 
 
 common nature. Persons are, however, supplementary to the teaching 
 of the soul. In youth, we are mad for persons ; but as we advance, we 
 seek a common nature and an impersonal acquaintance. In groups, on 
 great questions of thought, we become aware of unity. It reaches over 
 them like a temple, and we think and act with unusual solemnity. The 
 action of the soul is oftener in that which is felt and left unsaid, than in 
 that which is said in conversation. I feel the same truth, and yet know 
 that something higher in each of us overlooks this by-play, and ' Jove 
 nods to Jove ' from behind each of us. . . . Men descend to meet for 
 ordinary conversation. We are wiser than we know." 
 
 If men would but believe this: — 
 
 K That which we are, we shall teach — not voluntarily, but involunta- 
 rily. Character teaches over our head. The infallible index of true 
 progress is found in the tone the man takes. No man can help being 
 deferential to a higher spirit than his own. If man has not found his 
 home in God, he will involuntarily confess it, let him brave it out how 
 he will. If he have, the Deity will shine through him, under whatever 
 disguise of unfavourable circumstances." 
 
 Again he says — 
 
 " The same high principle flows into a man's intellect, and makes 
 what we call Genius. It is always religious ; and not anomalous, but 
 more like, and not less like, other men. The soul is superior to its 
 knowledge, wiser than any of its works." 
 
 But how will you understand this religion in man?— 
 
 " Let man believe that the Highest dwells within him, that his own 
 soul is the habitation, if the sentiment of duty is there. But let him 
 greatly listen to himself, withdrawing himself from other men's devotion. 
 His prayer must be his own, made his own. That faith that stands on 
 authority, is not faith. The position men have given to Jesus for many 
 centuries is a position of authority. It characterises themselves. The 
 soul gives itself, alone, original, and pure, to the Lonely, Original, and 
 Pure, who, on that condition, gladly inhabits, leads and speaks through 
 it. . . . Behold, it saith, I am born into the Great, the Universal Mind. 
 I am somehow receptive of the Great Soul, and thereby I do overlook 
 the sun and the stars, and feel them but the fair accidents and effects 
 which change and pass. More and more the surges of everlasting life 
 enter into me, and I become public and human in my regards and 
 actions." 
 
 M 
 
246 
 
 CXXXII. 
 
 October 2, 1845. 
 I had a book lent to me the other day, Lord Chan- 
 cellor King's, " On the Constitution, Discipline, Unity, 
 and Worship of the Primitive Church." There is much 
 valuable information in it, as exhibiting the common 
 opinions upon Christianity at that time, and the mode 
 in which its doctrines were taught. Ft appears that 
 schism was an early weed, and strife in full flower from 
 the very beginning. This history begins about the end 
 of the first century, and continues only to the end of the 
 third. It deals with the acts of the early fathers, as 
 they are called. It is divided into two parts. The 
 second part is chiefly interesting to me; it treats more 
 particularly of the modes of worship : — 
 
 " When the congregation was assembled," he says, " the first act of 
 divine service was the reading of the Scriptures ; then Psalms were 
 sung ; then a sermon was preached ; and lastly, prayers presented. The 
 subject of the sermon was a commentary or explanation of the lessons 
 read. They lasted one hour. They began them with a short exordium, 
 and then explained verse by verse ; showing the natural signification of 
 the words, and then the spiritual sense, and concluding with a suitable 
 application of all by way of dehortation from vice and impiety* 
 Always accommodating their discourses to the capacity of their 
 hearers ; so that if their hearers were prudent and understanding, they 
 treated of the profound mysteries of the Gospel ; but if they had 
 attained no great knowledge, then they concealed from them the deep 
 and recondite points. They offered their prayers standing, at least 
 always on a Sunday, for that was a day of rejoicing, and not of humilia- 
 tion ; to be kept holy indeed, but not in sackcloth. They wore no 
 official habit. The minister prayed, as most, to affect the people, 
 whose mouth he was to God ; and they assented by saying, Amen. 
 They had no form of prayer, but prayed according to their best ability 
 therein. But the Lord's Prayer was frequently repeated, and made 
 the foundation or rule of their petitions. Cyprian says, ' What prayer 
 can be more prevailing with God than that of his Son, who is the 
 Truth, proceeding out of his mouth V Tertullian says, of this prayer 
 'In the compendium of a few words, how many speeches, parables' 
 examples, precepts, are contained ! How many duties towards God. 
 Honour to God in the preface, faith in the first petition, hope in the 
 second, resignation in the third, petition for life in the fourth, confes- 
 
247 
 
 sion of sins in the fifth, watchfulness against temptation in the sixth.' 
 The priests prayed with the eyes shut and the hands lifted up, and the 
 people did likewise in hearing prayer." 
 
 The third chapter of this second part treats of baptism 
 and the creeds : — 
 
 "" 'Children were baptized, and even received the Lord's Supper. The 
 last ceremony alwaj^s followed, baptism being its antecedent, almost as 
 if it was one ceremony. Origen says, ' Children were baptized for the 
 remission of sins, to cleanse them from original impurity, which is 
 inherent in them.' The mercy and grace of God was to be denied 
 to no one, for all mankind are equal and alike in the sight of Cod." 
 
 Speaking of the Creed, he says — 
 
 " All learned persons are agreed, that the Apostles' Creed was not 
 written by the Apostles : it was not composed certainly in the first 
 -three centuries. The questions they asked of adults who were baptized, 
 were,— Dost thou believe in God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ; in 
 •the remission of sins, and eternal life through the Church ? " 
 
 The Catholics have some support here at least for 
 their po wer of the Church. 
 
 " The Creed was composed," King says, " by adding to this origin, as 
 above taught, at various times, and as new heresies sprang up, and so got 
 or continued the name still of the Apostles' Creed. As for the other 
 articles of the Creed, viz., such as are predicated of Christ, as his ' being 
 conceived of the Holy Ghost,' 'born of the Virgin Mary,' and those 
 other two, ' the holy catholic church,' and ' the forgiveness of sins,' 
 1 conceive them to be introduced as against heresies. For instance, 
 4 was conceived by the Holy Ghost,' was in opposition to the Ebionites 
 and Corinthians, who taught that Christ was born in the ordinary way. 
 Again, ' was born of the Virgin Mary,' in contradiction to the Simo- 
 nians, who affirmed Christ to be a man, not really, but phantastically, 
 or in appearance only. ' The remission of sins,' against the Basilidians, 
 who held that not all sins, but involuntary ones only, would be 
 remitted. ( The holy catholic church,' thereby excluding all heretics 
 from the pale of the saved. e The descent into hell' was brought 
 into the Creed in the end of the fourth century ; and ' the communion 
 of saints,' last of all. 
 
 There is a great deal more about the ceremonies of 
 
 the Church, but the inquiry fatigues me direfully. So 
 
 good-bye, King, and the ancient fathers also. I have 
 
 no great opinion of them. However, they had enough 
 
 m 2 
 
248 
 
 to do, doubtless, to keep their coach in a straight line : 
 they cared less, one would think, about the passengers, 
 as supposing, I presume, the one would carry the other 
 safely. 
 
 It is melancholy to perceive throughout religious 
 history, that as men set up opinions as being of more 
 importance than actions — as something to swear by, 
 rather than something to work from — they struck into 
 diversities of every possible shade of minute difference, 
 and quarreled thereon with a rancour, a demon savage- 
 ness, almost in inverse proportion as they slightly varied 
 from any one standard. The anti-christians were not 
 hated in any corresponding degree. Could they have 
 differed so much, or so cruelly, if they had kept to the 
 spirit of Christ's teaching, had kept to his working 
 love? But they must decide how and in what manner 
 Christ was God, and God was man ; and so enforce, 
 what they could not know, as the sole medium of 
 God's salvation for man. Is it now a settled question ? 
 Alas! poor humanity! 
 
 CXXXIII. 
 
 Sandgate, October 4, 1845. 
 
 I wish you would not apologize so much for not 
 writing, but set up a letter, like a cold pie, to be taken 
 in hand at your leisure, when the appetite serves. It is 
 the form of the thing, the looking forward to a labour, 
 that frightens you. To say you want solitude for 
 writing, is true enough ; the thing that is strange is, 
 that you should ever write in company : you might as 
 rationally attempt to talk profitably to several persons, 
 at one time, on different subjects. To me it seems 
 odd, that you have no leisure, no privacy, in even- 
 day : you are like a fish always swimming on the 
 surface of the water, open to the hindrances of both 
 elements. I went to see an old gentleman the other 
 day, who was so fond of his own room as to have 
 painted on the door, " No admittance, but by invitation." 
 I advise you to adopt a little closet of that fashion. 
 You will enjoy society all the better. 
 
 The difference between the Unitarians and other 
 
249 
 
 Christians, I know, is called great. I meant to convey 
 to you, that I do not think the difference great. Both 
 say, Jesus has power to save, independently of the man ; 
 if so, he is God: the name of Son, or equal, is of no 
 consequence to me. Channing, however, teaches that 
 Jesus acts upon the man by being his director, guide, 
 and advocate; but still so as to demand man's co- 
 operation. This seems to me also the definition of the 
 gospel salvation, though St. Paul teaches something 
 more. Trinity in unity is supposed, by many deep- 
 thinking men, to have been instituted to repel the charge 
 of polytheism, made by the Greeks. As to the autho- 
 rity of the Athanasian Creed, that's " all leather and 
 prunella," — outward binding, for convenient holding 
 together, not the spirit of any useful teaching upon the 
 understanding. 
 
 And then your fear, " How is man's salvation to be 
 achieved?" By this teaching, according to the Gospels 
 and to common sense, by holding Christ as the exam- 
 ple, "the way, the truth, and the life; " by induction of 
 principle, by faith in right and duty, by trust in God's 
 mercy and loving-kindness. What do you now get by 
 the present plan ? Real progress in religion ; or the 
 pretence of it? Can you get less by illumining man's 
 mind according to and consistently with his power of 
 understanding you ? And that, too, is another mistake 
 of your's, of supposing man is not enough interested in 
 his fate — that " he is more interested in his petty wel- 
 fare, in some vanishing success, than in his eternal fate." 
 Everything marks man a selfish creature ; he is always 
 deeply interested in hjs future welfare, the moment he is 
 persuaded it is for his benefit; and he would be as much 
 or more deeply interested in his eternal fate, if you 
 could convince his understanding that you hold the key, 
 that you know the path, and that your way of walking 
 there is the right one. It is your imperfect knowledge 
 of the subject you desire to inculcate, that gives indeci- 
 sion, and variation, and error to your several teachings. 
 Man's understanding rebels ; it rebels against receiving 
 for truth what has not the appearance of truth according 
 to the principles of his conscience and his reason; this 
 
I 
 
 250 
 
 confusion it is, that upsets your dogmas,, and overthrows 
 your spiritual persuasion. 
 
 Your account of the railway navigators is graphic, 
 and shocking enough. They are indeed a rough people, 
 and as near a wild and lawless tribe of the ancient 
 Britons as one would desire to see. Yet they have 
 many good points in their character. They are abusive 
 to other persons chiefly because they do not understand 
 " your gentility." But even of their abuse you have 
 to remember, their awful words have not the same sig- 
 nification to them as to you, do not carry the same 
 import and intention. I know a gentleman who has the 
 making a line of railway for Messrs. Grissell and Peto, 
 and he has told me many things greatly to their honour. 
 He says also, that they are as easily directed as children, 
 if well understood ; and, on the contrary, just as difficult 
 as New Zealanders under unfit direction. Of religion 
 they know nothing; and, because they know nothing of 
 it, they are irreligious, in your sense of the word. Being 
 free, and feeling independent, they are bold enough em- 
 phatically to tell you so ; but, by the same cause of 
 ignorance, one half of the poor of the land, and one 
 third of the remainder of our people, could exhibit the 
 same w 7 ant of comprehension, and present the same 
 negative result to all your learned lore and industry. 
 Yon have not the key to their comprehension. I am 
 illiberal enough even to think, that seven-eighths of 
 the community are mere professors — they get something 
 to talk about, but not much to act upon, from your 
 doctrinal teaching. I do not mean, they are without 
 good principles ; but that your creeds, and definitions, 
 and inclosures, &c, &c, are good but for very little to 
 them. Almost all the difference between the enlightened 
 and the ignorant is matter of expression and distinctness 
 of comprehension. We all possess a like common na- 
 ture ; within us wakes or sleeps every idea of man. 
 
 Equality you don't like. You admit, or appear to 
 admit, that intelligent power should give equality : why, 
 that is all we ask for,— freedom to act. As for your 
 transmitted authority, that is the abuse, the damning 
 fact. Equality does not contemplate intimacy, but free- 
 dom for our power, according to its value, and not to 
 
251 
 
 be judged of as from what rank it comes. Equality is, 
 equal laws, equal privileges for all ; but by no means 
 denies superiority of standing by merit of works and 
 goodness. It is a low view of equality to suppose it 
 intends " open doors" for all. But even your intimacy 
 wants purifying; it should depend on accordance of 
 spirit, whereas it depends on mere rank, on carriages 
 and upholstery. Your ideas of a good teacher seem 
 to depend on words spoken from the acknowledged au- 
 thority: I presume to think, that deeds, modes of acting, 
 the spirit of principle — that these things teach better 
 than mere authority of station, come from whence they 
 may. 
 
 CXXXIV. 
 
 October 11, 1845. ] 
 Dating this letter reminds me, that this is the great 
 fair-day of my native town, the grandest day of my 
 boyhood, — always remembered, if not with the pious 
 spirit properly belonging to old St. Michael, yet with 
 the hearty zeal proper to a boy's idea of St. Michael's 
 feast. You have heard me tell some funny stories of 
 my young days, so I may as well tell you of another 
 little freak of mine. I always saved all the money I 
 could for a month or two beforehand, for the luxury of 
 one great day of fullest satisfaction, — to have a feast, 
 '}■ something like a holiday," as Punch says. I was, 
 however, generally too sanguine, too early and too ra- 
 pidly feasted, so that by one o'clock my money was 
 all gone. How to remedy this bad policy was the ques- 
 tion ; it was useless to think of walking among the 
 splendid temptations, and not eating! One feast day, 
 therefore, my father came to me while I was in bed, 
 at twelve o'clock — " Why, my boy," said he, " what 
 are you lying here for ? do you know it is fair day ? — 
 arn't you well ?" " O yes, father," I rejoined, " I am 
 very well; and I can hear the drums; but it won't do 
 yet. If I get up, my money will be gone in two hours. 
 J want to feel what it is to spend my money like a 
 gentleman, in the afternoon." Wordsworth says, " The 
 boy is father of the man •" but I don't think I have often 
 
252 
 
 had such foresight, and took such sensible means, such 
 a sure plan, to carry out a great design ! It was a mere 
 animal fact, but there was some poetry in it too. When 
 hearing the drums, I filled in a good many pictures 
 for future enjoyment, and so got a double portion. The 
 imagination had first its feast ; which is a good arrange- 
 ment, as the thing does not work so cleverly afterwards, 
 in many things besides boys' luxuries! 
 
 My finding fault with you has one main object, — to 
 provoke you to unfold yourself, with this little addition, 
 that I may participate in the benefit. Nothing is free 
 from selfishness, you see. I know well your worth as 
 "a pet;" I have reckoned safely there. I hold all 
 things easily, lightly in hand, as the jockeys say. But 
 I desire also to draw something out of you, to teach me 
 some good guidance for another race ; — so that you are 
 " a pet" of more value than a lap-dog, and rather of 
 another order. 
 
 I shall make you orderly by and bye. You are pro- 
 gressing outwardly, and write better and more logically : 
 orderly exterior is the mark of orderly interior. What 
 a gain it is> to feel in no hurry in whatsoever you have 
 to do, and so not understanding the thing as a task to 
 be quickly disposed of ! Therefore keep on your piece- 
 meal work in writing, and your efforts will secure a 
 leisure, and germinate as they are exposed to the sun. 
 Here is good guidance for you : — " Don't look back, 
 to square your sentences into consistency ; never fear 
 that, but speak from a true heart only as you feel. 
 When you seek to say something smart, then you are 
 in danger. If the feeling be good for much, it is always 
 orderly." 
 
 cxxxv. 
 
 October 12, \UB. 
 Emerson's " Essay on History " is deserving your 
 most careful reading. I think the following general 
 ideas very striking : — 
 
 " There is one mind common to all individual men. He that is once 
 admitted to the right of reason is made a freeman to the whole estate. 
 
258 
 
 A man is the whole encyclopaedia of facts. Epoch after epoch, kingdom, 
 republic, are merely the applications of his manifold spirit to the mani- 
 fold world. The human mind wrote history, and the human mind must 
 read it. There is a relation between the hours of our life and the cen- 
 turies of time. Its genius is illustrated by the entire series of days. It 
 embodies the emotions of men. But always the thought is prior to 
 the fact. Every reform was once a private opinion ; and thus I have the 
 key to the problem of that age." 
 
 And then, to exhibit how the mind must be dealt with, 
 he says — 
 
 " The fact narrated must correspond to something in me, to be credi- 
 ble or intelligible. We must fit in and feel the actions of others, or we 
 shall learn nothing." 
 
 In this manner we gather experience and knowledge, 
 he implies ; for he adds — 
 
 " This throws our actions into perspective, and so I may see my own 
 vices without heat, in the distant persons of Solomon, Alcibiades, and 
 Catiline." 
 
 He says again — 
 
 S£ It is remarkable that, involuntarily, we always read as superior 
 beings. Universal history does not, in its stateliest pictures — in the 
 sacerdotal, the imperial palaces — in the triumphs of will and genius— 
 any where make us feel that these are for our betters. We sympathise 
 in the great moments of history, in the great discoveries of men. We 
 honour the rich, because they have externally the freedom, power, and 
 grace which we feel to be proper to man, proper to us." 
 
 " The student of history must attain and maintain that lofty spirit 
 where facts yield their secret sense. This life of our's is stuck round 
 with Egypt, Greece, Gaul, England — war, commerce, church and court — 
 as with so many wild flowers, grave and gay. History must be thus, or 
 it is nothing. .... The difference between men is in their principles of 
 association. The progress of the intellect consists in the clearer vision 
 of causes, which overlooks surface differences. The eye is fastened on 
 the life, and slights the circumstance. It is a unity of cause, and a variety 
 of appearance only. Nature is a mutable cloud, which is always and 
 never the same. She casts the same thought into troops of forms. There 
 is at the surface infinite variety of things ; at the centre there is sim- 
 plicity and unity of cause." 
 
 You say, he is sometimes a dreamer: is this to dream 
 of history, of events, of men ? But let me show you how 
 he applies this text— how he brings these powers to deal 
 with history. 
 
 m 5 
 
254 
 
 " The costly charm of ancient tragedy, of all old literature, is, that the 
 persons speak simply — speak as persons who have good sense without 
 knowing it before, yet the reflective habit has become the predominant 
 habit of the mind. Our admiration is not of the old, but of the natural. 
 Adults acted with the simplicity and grace of boys 
 
 " I see," he continues, " that men of God have always from time to 
 time walked among men, and made their commission felt in the heart 
 and soul of the commonest hearers. Jesus astonishes sensual people. 
 But as they come to revere their intuitions, and aspire to live holy, their 
 
 own piety explains every fact, every word The priestcraft of the 
 
 East and West— of the Magian, Brahmin, Druid, and Inca— is expounded 
 in the individual's private life. The cramping influence of a hard for- 
 malist on a young child, is a familiar fact explained to the child when he 
 becomes a man, by seeing that the oppressor of his youth is himself a 
 child tyrannized over by those names and words and forms, of whose 
 influence he was merely the organ to the youth. The fact teaches him 
 
 how Belus was worshipped, how the pyramids were built Again, 
 
 in that protest which each considerate person makes against the super- 
 stition of his age, he re-acts, step by step, the part of old reformers, 
 
 and, in the search after truth finds new perils to virtue The 
 
 advancing man finds how deep a property he hath in all literature, in 
 all fable as well as in all history." 
 
 " The beautiful fables of the Greeks," he says, " being proper crea- 
 tions of the imagination^ and not of the fancy, are universal verities. 
 What a range of meanings, and what a perpetual pertinence has the 
 story of Prometheus ! Besides its primary value as the first chapter of 
 the history of Europe (the mythology thinly veiling authentic facts, the 
 invention of the mechanic arts, and the migration of colonies) it gives the 
 history of religion with some closeness to the faith of later ages." 
 
 Then follows the explanation of the story, too long- 
 to quote, but full of deep interest, if only for its in- 
 genuity. 
 
 And then see this sweeping summary — how, like the 
 organ's swelling notes, it leaves the grandeur of the great 
 song before us : — 
 
 " Man is the compound of time ; he is also the correlative of nature. 
 The powers of man consist in the multitude of his affinities — in the fact, 
 that his life is intertwined with the whole chain of organic and inorganic 
 being. A man is a bundle of relations, a knot of roots, whose flower and 
 fruitage is the world. All his faculties predict the world he is to inhabit, 
 as the fins of the fish foreshow that water exists. The lovely attributes 
 of the maiden child predict the refinements of civil society. A mind 
 might ponder for ages, and not gain so much knowledge as the passion 
 of love shall teach it in a day." 
 
£55 
 
 Read again this Essay on History, and new light shall 
 break in upon you. " The unity of the universal mind is 
 in righteousness; its disseverance, in evil and sin." How 
 the oneness of our being is expressed in these few words, 
 "What we did in youth is still influencing us, still to 
 be traced in our nature." The good we do connects us 
 with the family of man ; the evil dissevers us from God — : 
 t% our fatal shadows, that walk by us still." 
 
 CXXXVL 
 
 October 1 3, 1845. 
 
 I sit down to read ; but there is a little sprite within, 
 that says, " Write, and you shall see better ; the light 
 will make all words luminous." If I answer, " I smo- 
 ther my correspondents already," it rejoins, " Write for 
 yourself then ; your labour will not be lost, though they 
 throw your words to the winds." In obedience thereto, 
 I take my chances of wearing out your patience. 
 
 The Essay on " Self-reliance" delights me more and 
 more at every perusal. See what a prince of mottoes is 
 this, from Beaumont and Fletcher's " Honest Man's 
 Fortune;" 
 
 " Man is his own star ; and a perfect man 
 Commands all light, all influence, all fate ; 
 Nothing to him falls early or too late. 
 Our acts our angels are, or good or ill, 
 Our fatal shadows that walk by us still." 
 
 " Always the soul hears an admonition in original and true words, let 
 the subject be what it may. The sentiment they instil is of more value 
 than any thought they may contain. To believe your own thought, to 
 believe that what is true in your own private heart is true for all men, — . 
 
 this is genius There is a time in every man's education when he 
 
 arrives at the conviction, that envy is ignorance, that imitation is suicide; 
 that he must take himself for better and for worse, as his portion ; that 
 though the universe is full of good, no kernel of nourishing corn can 
 come to him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground which 
 
 is given to him to till None but he knows what that is 
 
 which he can do ; nor does he know until he has tried. Bravely let him 
 speak the utmost syllable of his confession. We but half express our- 
 selves, and are ashamed of that divine idea which each of us represents. 
 A man is relieved and gay, when he has put his heart into his work and 
 done his best." 
 
" Trust thyself. Accept the place the Divine Providence has found 
 for you, your society and the connexion of events. Great men have 
 
 always done so Conformity is a chain upon society. What I 
 
 must do, is all that concerns me; not what people think. Do your 
 work, and you shall reinforce yourself. A man must consider what a 
 blind-man's buff is this game of conformity. If I know your sect, I 
 anticipate your argument. Do I not know that he is pledged to himself 
 not to look but at one side, not as a man, but as a parish minister ? 
 Their every truth is not quite true. Meanwhile nature is not slow to 
 
 equip us in the prison uniform of the party to which we adhere 
 
 For nonconformity the world whips you with its displeasure. And when 
 the herd growl and mow, it needs the habit of magnanimity and 
 
 religion to treat it godlike, as a trifle of no concernment A 
 
 foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds. I suppose no true 
 man can violate his nature. If I speak my honest thoughts, I cannot 
 doubt they will be found symmetrical, though I mean it not, and see it 
 not. We then pass for what we are. Character teaches above our wills. 
 . . . . Your genuine action will explain itself : your conformity explains 
 
 nothing Let us affront, if need be, the smooth mediocrity of the 
 
 times, and hurl in the face of customs this fact, — that there is a great 
 responsible thinker and actor moving, wherever moves a man. A man, 
 Csesar, is born, and. for ages after we have a Roman empire. Christ is 
 born, and millions of minds so grow and cleave to his genius, that he is 
 confounded with virtue and the possible of man. An institution is the 
 lengthened shadow of one man. All history resolves itself "very easily 
 into the biography of a few stout and earnest persons." 
 
 And then he gives this caution: — 
 
 " Our reading is mendicant and sycophantic. We see things through 
 a borrowed medium. Why this deference to great names ? When men 
 shall act with just views, the lustre will be transferred from the actions 
 of kings to those of educated men." 
 
 And see then this great thought: — ' 
 
 " We lie in the lap of immense intelligence, which makes us organs of 
 its activity, and receivers of its truth. All things are made sacred by 
 relation to Divine wisdom, — one thing as much as another." 
 
 " But man," he says, " is timid and apologetic. He dares not say, 
 ' I think,' but quotes some saint or sage. Man postpones and remem- 
 bers ; he does not live in the present, but with reverted eyes laments the 
 past, or, heedless of the riches that surround him, stands on tiptoe to 
 foresee the future. He cannot be happy and strong until he lives with 
 nature in the present, and above time. " 
 
257 
 
 And then with a trumpet tongue he says - - 
 
 " Who has more soul than me, masters me ; round him I must 
 revolve by the gravitation of spirits : who has less, I rule with like 
 facility. We do not yet see that virtue is height— that a man who is 
 plastic, and permeable to principles, by the law of nature, must overpower 
 all cities, nations, kings, who are not. Virtue is the governor, the 
 creator, the reality, the resolution of all into the Ever-blessed One." 
 
 What think you of this fine saying? — 
 
 " Man goes abroad to beg a cup of water of the urns of men. We 
 must go alone. Isolation must precede true society. But your isola- 
 tion must not be too much, nor dare too much. Dwell up there in the 
 simple and noble regions of thy life, obey thy heart, and thou shalt 
 re-produce the fore-world again 
 
 " In the will, work and acquire. Nothing can bring you peace but 
 yourself. Nothing can bring you peace but the triumph of principles." 
 
 I think these Essays could easily be turned into blank 
 verse, and would then make a splendid poem. The 
 style, that you call unpolished, is full of sinew — such 
 power as needs no ornament of mere cadency. Its ful- 
 ness of thought and deep sense are support enough for 
 blank verse. How he challenges the actions of the soul, 
 the understanding, and the heart of man ! He stands 
 above all forms, and beckons to where the great intelli- 
 gence of the spirit soars. Pity it is if he be wrong, for 
 he abideth by God's gifts. He appeals to man to act 
 for to-day, because all past and all future is here, is 
 wrapped up in it. 
 
 If he could make people believe that "our deeds 
 follow us like a giant by our side," we might be warned 
 of what we raised about us, for good or for evil. Some- 
 times I think of when I shall be a spirit, and what then 
 I shall think of my life's journey and its ambition. 
 Such a "possession" now would give a " new birth" 
 to every creature ; for " old things would pass away, 
 and all things would become new." May I not become 
 a spirit now, as well as hereafter ? 
 
258 
 CXXXVII. 
 
 October 14, 1845. 
 How much I am pleased by the pictorial ideas of 
 Emerson : — 
 " An institution is the lengthened shadow of one man." 
 " We live in the lap of immense intelligence." 
 1 " The rugged battle of fate, where strength is born, we shun." 
 
 " Prayer is the contemplation of the facts of life from the highest 
 point of view. I am beholding myself afar off, to see better." 
 
 With this man, the mind's action — the musing thought — 
 is the essential element that germinates into the great 
 deeds of life. How much is expressed by — 
 
 " The difference between men is in their principles of association." 
 
 This is the cup where man mixes the fate of his life. 
 
 Nevermind your reading slowly; I don't like your 
 labour the better for its quantity. I read still slower 
 than you do, and yet think I read too fast. That some 
 of my extracts should please you better than others, is 
 natural enough — and useful too, if you will but tell me 
 wherefore. 
 
 Such a man as Channing talking of " internal convic- 
 tion," does not speak the patois of ordinary people; but 
 speaks of the soul's admission of a superintending God, 
 of his greatness, his love and mercy. Enthusiasm is 
 where the heart leads the judgment; stoicism is the 
 contrary. The happy medium is " a cultivated piety, 
 characterized by wisdom as much as by ivarmth." This 
 is the entrance-door to good theology. 
 
 It seems odd to me, that you object to imaginative 
 prose writing — require there the strictest meaning of 
 words, without symbol or picture, and yet love poetry 
 with a true poet's sympathy. I love imaginative prose 
 writing, " signs, and tropes, and graphic thought," so 
 that they really illustrate the argument; and I dislike 
 poetry, because — or rather, when — it is not strictly 
 logical, and when the metaphor is not pertinent and 
 clear. You almost love any extravagance " in fit metre.''" 
 Emerson's thought is always poetic, and Channing's 
 always polished and elaborate* The latter says all that 
 
259 
 
 can properly be said to explain his meaning ; the other 
 only shadows forth the great idea — strikes the key-note, 
 or a few bars of his anthem — and then leaves you to 
 gather his spirit, to fill out his song. But I won't 
 attempt to take you from your plan ; indeed, you are a 
 true zebra : you u look handsome," but hate harness ; 
 you can " trot pretty " when left to your own will, but 
 woe to the man that shall have you in his shafts. Never 
 mind your scolding me — I rather like it. I sometimes 
 give you pain on the principle, and in the manner, the 
 doctors remove incrustations, — to provoke a better growth 
 below — to unfold you. 
 
 CXXXVIIT. 
 
 October 15, 1845. 
 
 There are a few verses in the Times of the 8th instant 
 worthy your sympathy and admiration, full of earnest 
 hope in man, and for man's liberty: the thoughts will 
 remind you of Channing's generous and great aspira- 
 tions. In the Times of the 9th inst. you may see an 
 eulogy on the chief judge of America, now dead, full 
 of manly thought and glowing eloquence, which, if not 
 written by Channing, is written by a true disciple. 
 Tell me if it be not the best encomium you ever saw. 
 What " wishy-washy " things those French praises 
 seem alongside of this flowery wreath ; so natural, and 
 yet so sensible, and so useful to the young and aspiring. 
 Channing has written many things of this kind ; but 
 there is not one in his collection so good as this. Such 
 a sweep he takes over the world, with such an eagle 
 vision he searches the bright intellectual existence of his 
 great contemporaries, and also of those " gone to sleep." 
 Of Bacon, Coke, Blackstone, Hale, Mansfield, Eldon, 
 Stowell, — of Brougham, Cottenham, Denman, Camp- 
 bell, Follett, he draws the pictures, or salient points, by 
 a few strokes of the master's hand, and boldly compares 
 his friend. Not, indeed, in the miserable taste of the 
 usual American boasting, but as a generous friend 
 would praise all great merit, wheresoever it may be 
 found. 
 
 And now for another bit of gossip in another field. 
 
260 
 
 In this, at least, I shall surprise you with my daring ; 
 if, indeed, your loud laugh may not supersede it. I 
 have been cogitating on a plan to pay off the national 
 debt, by a process like " as the oak spreads from the 
 acorn." I have been reading this last week for the ex- 
 tant knowledge of the day, as it relates to the funds. 
 I perceive ray system is not a new one ; but still there 
 is a difference, " as small as a grain of mustard-seed;" 
 and in which, by unfolding, " the birds of the air may 
 take their rest." If " Sir Robert " — your friend — 
 would give me his surplus of this year's revenue, I 
 would, without other cost to the country — at least, with- 
 out any other new cost to the people — in 200 years, clear 
 off every farthing of the national debt !— I would, though 
 a sinking-fund is the laughing-stock of the cleverest 
 actuaries of the day ! If my two hundred years alarms 
 you, tell me in what time the present system will do it ; 
 and tell me, at what apparent cost? Three millions of 
 money put out to compound interest at 3J- per cent, will 
 double itself in 25 years — this is sure; and, indeed, I 
 will not move one advance without your full consent, so 
 be patient. If I bought three millions of stock in the 
 funds in the first year, and continued purchasing yearly 
 with the interest arising therefrom, I should possess six 
 millions of the funds in 25 years. If this be true, I 
 should possess 12 millions in 50 years ; and 24 millions 
 in 75 years; and 48 millions in 100 years ; and 96 mil- 
 lions in 125 years ; and 192 millions in 150 years ; and 
 384 millions in 175 years; and 768 millions in 200 
 years. All this reckoning is in geometrical progression, 
 as true as it is familiar to every school-boy. 
 
 I am going to write to " Sir Robert," and to speak to 
 the Times about it. Of course I am to be " chief com- 
 missioner" for this operation; and, as the work is 
 simple, I shall be content with a small per-centage on 
 the transfer, say a quarter per cent — I should think John 
 Bull will "stand that" for such a boon ! The quarter 
 per cent is only two millions ! ! 
 
 1 
 
261 
 CXXXIX. 
 
 October 16, 1845. 
 
 Emerson's Essay, " Compensation," is a marvellous 
 work, full of what you call dreamy ideas. The man 
 does seem to dream too, but somehow one gets an inkling 
 that the man had some of the main thread in his hand 
 belonging to the web of our wonderful existence, which 
 is weaving -for evermore, though unseen by the crowd. 
 
 " Life is ahead of theology ; the people know more 
 than their preachers teach." How startling this asser- 
 tion is to common thinkers ! but may it not be said, 
 that the rebel thoughts of man arise against our theo- 
 logy because of the offence to man's understanding ? 
 Out of the irreligion of the greater number — of them 
 that turn away from our popular dogmas — what is the 
 cause ? Want of self-preserving power, or want of com- 
 prehension ? Are they blind to their own interests, or 
 blind only to your mode of representing them ? 
 
 How would you read these bold lines ? — 
 
 " Every excess causes a defect ; every defect an excess. Every 
 faculty which is a receiver of pleasure, has an equal penalty in its 
 abuse. For everything you have missed, you have gained something 
 else ; for everything you gain, you lose something. If the gatherer 
 gather too much, Nature takes out of the man what she puts in his 
 chest. The waves of the sea do not more speedily seek a level from 
 their loftiest tossing, than the varieties of condition tend to equalize 
 themselves. Has the ambitious man power over others— it is generally 
 at the cost of his manly attributes. With every influx of light, even, 
 comes new danger ; he must bear witness to the light, and so outrun 
 the sympathy of his fellows. ... If the government is cruel, the go* 
 vernor's life is in danger. If you tax too high, the revenue will yield 
 nothing. ... The true life and satisfaction of man seem to elude the 
 utmost rigours or felicities of condition, and to establish themselves with 
 great indifference under all varieties of circumstance. Justice is not 
 postponed ; a perfect equity adjusts its balance in all parts of life. 
 Every secret is told, every crime is punished, every virtue rewarded, 
 every wrong redressed—in silence and certainty. The specific stripes 
 may follow late after the offence, but they follow because they accom- 
 pany it. Crime and punishment grow out of one stem." 
 
 All this is great teaching and worthy of acceptance by 
 every rational creature, and every rational man feels its 
 
262 
 
 righteousness, however he may evade its law. Emerson 
 adds — 
 
 " While thus the world will be whole, we seek to act partially, to sun- 
 der, to appropriate. We try to detach the sensual sweet from the moral 
 sweet. The soul says, Eat ; the body would feast. The soul says, Have 
 dominion over all things, to the end of virtue ; the body would have the 
 power over things to its own ends Steadily is this dividing coun- 
 teracted. Up to this day, no projector has had the smallest success. 
 Life in vests itself with inevitable conditions, which the unwise seek to 
 dodge ; but no ; if he escapes in one part, they attack him in another 
 more vital part. So signal is the failure, that the experiment would not 
 be tried but for the circumstance, that when the disease begins in the 
 will, the intellect is infected ; so that the man ceases to see God whole in 
 each object, but is able to see the sensual allurement, and not the 
 sensual hurt: — he sees the mermaid's head, but not the dragon's tail, and 
 thinks he can cut off that which he would have from that which he 
 would not have." \ 
 
 And what would the man of the common world say 
 to this summary ? — 
 
 " All things are double. Measure for measure ; love for love 
 
 Give, and it shall be given unto you. .... Who doth not work shall 
 
 not eat Bad counsel confounds the adviser — the Devil is an 
 
 ass. You cannot do wrong without suffering wrong. All infractions of 
 love and equity are speedily punished. They are punished by fear . Fear 
 is an instructor of great sagacity. One thing he always teaches, — that 
 there is rottenness where he appears." 
 
 And then he winds up the argument as follows: — 
 
 " Benefit is the end of nature. He is great, who confers the most 
 benefits. He is base, who receives favours and renders none. Beware 
 of too much staying in jour hands. The league between Virtue and 
 Nature engages all things to assume a hostile front to Vice. There is no 
 such thing as concealment. Commit a crime, and you cannot wipe out 
 the foot track. Always some damning circumstance transpires. The 
 good man has absolute good, nothing can do him harm ; disasters (sick- 
 ness, offence, poverty) prove beneficial. Every man in his life needs to 
 thank his faults. No man thoroughly understands a truth till he has 
 contended against it. Our strength grows out of our weakness. Whilst 
 we sit on the cushion of advantage, we go to sleep. The wise man 
 always throws himself on the side of his assailants. Blame is so far better 
 than praise. In general, every evil which we do not succumb to is a 
 benefactor." 
 
263 
 
 Only believe there is no escaping the consequences of 
 your actions ; only believe there is a third party to your 
 dealings : only believe that benefit is the great end ; and 
 that the Almighty is building, and not another; and 
 what other guide do you want? 
 
 CXL. 
 
 October 17, 1845, 
 I am out of a book just now, and, according to my 
 custom, I have got the Edinburgh Review, to see what 
 may be afloat. The April number has "a strong 
 article" about the subtleties of Oxford and Mr. Ward's 
 "withdrawal," that seems of much consequence to the 
 initiated, but does not interest me. But I have been 
 much pleased to see a brief history of a university, its 
 rise and progress, as exhibited at Oxford. To me it is as 
 full of information as a quarto. 
 
 " Oxford consisted originally of a collection of teachers, united by no 
 condition beyond mutual convenience, and subject to no discipline 
 except the spiritual power of the Bishop of Lincoln, the diocesan, and 
 the temporal jurisdiction of the town. It was the interest of all parties, 
 that each man's pupils should reside under his roof. Hence arose the 
 boarding-houses, called inns and hostelries, and afterwards colleges and 
 halls. The masters of the houses were the rulers of the little scholastic 
 world. They selected a rector, or principal, to keep order amongst 
 themselves, who afterwards received the name of Chancellor. But the 
 important step, that which raised Oxford from a collection of schools 
 into a university, was their uniting for the purpose of ascertaining the 
 progress of their pupils, and granting them certificates of proficiency and 
 licence to teach. These became, in time, the modern degrees of Bachelor 
 and Master; the first of which gave the applicant merely a limited power 
 of lecturing ; the second, which was at first synonymous with Doctor, au- 
 thorized him to teach generally, to preside at the disputations which were 
 then the tests of knowledge, and to be Master of a House. As the heads 
 of houses, being ecclesiastics, and therefore deprived of lineal heirs, 
 could not give inheritance, but succession only, incorporation was 
 suggested, and granted by the crown. Such was the origin of colleges.". 
 
 Here you have not only the consequences, but the 
 causes that produced the institution ; here is the origin- 
 ating motive, as well as the details^ of her government. 
 
264 
 
 I think this an excellent summary, short and full — the 
 acorn and the oak seen at one moment of time. 
 
 In this same number of the Review there is an article 
 about the labouring poor, but written feebly. It ac- 
 knowledges, however, that the common people are in the 
 right path to provoke useful attention to their case, by 
 popular movement. In the following passage you may 
 see where power lies : — 
 
 " Ideas, unless outward circumstances conspire with them, have in 
 general no very rapid or immediate efficacy in human affairs ; and also, 
 the most favourable outward circumstances remain inoperative, for want 
 of ideas suitable to the conjuncture. But whemthe right circumstances 
 and the right ideas meet, the effect is seldom slow in manifesting itself." 
 
 We have got the strong circumstances, of poverty, 
 uneasiness, and movement; are we not getting the ideas 
 together, to give them effect? Only let the thoughtful 
 admit, that productive industry is the wealth of the coun- 
 try, and not money, and away go all hindrances, all 
 checks — protections and prohibitions — against the free 
 circulation of all commodities ; and then will be added 
 the peaceful prosperity of all classes. We shall then 
 soon see the one-eyed policy of waiting for other nations 
 before we become generous, and of keeping up high 
 prices for the sake of remunerative traffic. Very few 
 can understand, that low money price is advantageous in 
 barter, that the real value of anything is only what it will 
 exchange for. If my hat will exchange for your pair of 
 shoes, what is it to either of us what the money price is? 
 And this is true for any number of things, or for the 
 commerce of a whole country. Foreign trade would he 
 doubled if our money price was equal to theirs ; and if 
 so, we could receive food ad infinitum., because we can 
 render manufactured goods ad infinitum — our produc- 
 tive power is limitless. 
 
 CXLI. 
 
 October 18, 1845. 
 What think you of this dualism : — 
 
 " When one age has been made unhappy by excess of religious zeal, 
 the next has been still more so by the uncontrollable reaction which is 
 
265 
 
 the natural punishment of extremes. The austere Puritans of Cromwell 
 were followed by the debauched courtiers of Charles. Even Christianity 
 may be perverted and disguised by false forms and false proportions — by 
 falsehood of doctrine, and falsehood of spirit — until it becomes a question, 
 which evil is the greatest — the evil of superstition or of unbelief." 
 
 How like you this summary of the fruits of the divi- 
 sions in our churches — our Puseyism ? 
 
 " The elements of discord, which have been so long smouldering, 
 cannot peacefully subside. Our high churchmen fondly thought their 
 time was come. Having beat off the Dissenters, they conceived that the 
 religious temper of the age might be turned to good account, and the 
 faded glories of a priesthood be revived. As usual, the mischief began 
 at Oxford. The new, or if they like it better, the old religion, as nursed 
 and hatched at Oxford, was a serpent, and could only creep. The 
 bishops laid their hands upon it, and it got dragon's wings. For months 
 together, the dioceses of London and Exeter had all the interest of a 
 seat of war. The middle classes had a stout battle to fight there. They 
 have fought, and have won it. A narrative in the style of Hudibras 
 should commemorate the victory ! . . . . We remember hearing, a few 
 years back, of a sermon by Mr. Mountain. There was a derivation in 
 it of the word laity. It came, he said, from the laity being to be led. 
 But what a passage are these late transactions in the history of church- 
 men, swelling with conceit of apostolical succession ! Within and without 
 their commission is written, 'Feed my sheep.' Notwithstanding which, 
 the fold has been teazed and worried by the shepherds, until it has 
 broken out into open insurrection. Nor could peace be restored on any 
 other terms than by the shepherds submitting to retread their steps, 
 under the guidance of the sheep." 
 
 This is witty, and full of fine irony; — only somehow, 
 they seem to have a few difficulties in the Scotch church, 
 of not much more religious value. 
 
 Did I quote to you from Lord Chancellor King's book, 
 "that the laity always governed the early church — 
 elected its officers, and had full legislative management. 
 By degrees it was taken out of their hands, &c." The 
 Editor of this Review says — 
 
 " The devout and ardent Dr. Arnold was in his grave before the 
 commencement of these diocesan campaigns. How little could he have 
 expected that the mongrel Romanism, against which he prayed as against 
 a deadly poison, would have so suddenly and so rashly thrown itself into 
 collision with the plain honesty of the middle classes, and have been 
 broken to pieces, like a potter's vessel, by their good feeling and good 
 
266 
 
 sense. What a rapid practical termination to the pretensions of the 
 priesthood ! What a summary and complete refutation to all denials 
 of the right of private judgment, and of the right of laymen to a portion 
 in the government of the church J" 
 
 He says also — 
 
 " The last two centuries have not perhaps been fertile in very great 
 men ; but our rational liberty and tranquil civilization have done infi- 
 nitely more for our security against superstition and fanaticism, than had 
 been previously accomplished during many hundred years by genius 
 and virtue, in all their noble efforts to make fanatics wise." 
 
 Is this from the spread of education, or of Christianity 
 as it was taught ? — for what was taught, is the question. 
 The highest and noblest qualities in our teachers can do 
 little, this passage implies, without acting upon an enlight- 
 ened people; they are powerless but to educated men. 
 
 I have forgotten to tell you that the Editor is revising 
 the disturbances of the English, Scotch, and Irish 
 churches. Of the Scotch church he says — 
 
 " The two cases of England and Scotland, in their schisms, differ 
 indeed. By the theory of the Ultra -Presbyterians, they recognise no 
 other headship than of Christ, and they claim a formidable independ- 
 ence. They entertain an almost republican fellow-feeling with the 
 people, and, in the last resort, they go no further for the real living and 
 visible authority of the church, than the body of the people in commu- 
 nion with it The party of the schism in England has been that 
 
 of the Ultra-Episcopalians, nominally members of a church of which the 
 supreme civil magistrate is the undoubted head; they are, nevertheless, 
 ambitious of making themselves into a mystery and a power — are for 
 bringing men back under the ceremonial law of words, and forms, and 
 rites, and are not only separating the clergy from the laity, but for 
 drawing a broad, impassable line between them." 
 
 So that the one government seems anxious to stand 
 apart from the people as a kind of mysterious power; 
 and the other, to identify itself more and more with the 
 people, even against the sense of the established church 
 of Scotland. 
 
 " In classing the churches of the three kingdoms," he 
 says, " we have been accustomed to consider the Church 
 of Scotland as really national ; that of England as semi- 
 national ; that of Ireland as anti-national." I am not 
 sure this opinion is the true one, but it is deserving 
 
267 
 
 the inquiry of all thoughtful men. There can be no 
 great permanency in anything half national ; and no- 
 thing but trouble can come from any institution anti- 
 national. Of the Irish church he says — 
 
 " Its position is so truly monstrous, so much more like that of an 
 ecclesiastical garrison than a national church, that it would be ridiculous 
 to stop and criticise it. Nobody can defend it, on the principles on which 
 any other national church that ever existed was deemed defensible, or 
 ever was defended. Nobody can open a rational book on church 
 establishments, without finding the arguments in their behalf proceeding 
 from first to last, upon facts and reasonings by which the Church of 
 Ireland stands utterly condemned. . . . Were it to last by any possi- 
 bility another hundred years, is there a man alive who could believe 
 that, of itself, it would have brought over a hundred converts, nominal 
 or real ?" 
 
 And again he says — 
 
 " We are as convinced, as of our existence, that there can be no peace 
 for Ireland until the nominal union between the Church of England, 
 and what only a parrot or a mocking-bird can call the Church of 
 Ireland, has been dissolved. If the Irish church were merely a failure, 
 a pure waste of the national funds for religious instruction, that would 
 be bad enough ; but it is so much money spent, and successfully spent, 
 in the interest of the Spirit of all evil." 
 
 Constrasting the establishment of the church of Scot- 
 land, the Editor says — 
 
 " There cannot be conceived a greater contrast to the Irish church, 
 than has hitherto been presented by the church of Scotland. The one 
 was re-established on the decisive averment, that " it was agreeable to 
 the inclinations of the people." If states had consciences, the principle 
 for establishing the other would have, as publicly, recited directly the re- 
 verse! . . . The testimonies of our best judges are, that the Scotch church 
 has produced all the good effects, both civil and religious, which can 
 possibly be supposed to exist in any other. Here were to be seen a 
 clergy, poorly endowed, equal in station among each other, little raised 
 above their flocks ; but they were learned, respectable, and independ- 
 ent ; and they exercised, generation after generation, an extraordinary 
 influence over a pious and orderly population." 
 
 I need not exhibit to you the discussion upon the po- 
 pular election of ministers, or the church's patronage. 
 Burke says, " Permit no election ; it is pestiferous, 
 unless vou are sure of the influence of two or three 
 
268 
 
 ruling minds." Paley says, " I call upon those who 
 have the ordering of such matters to reflect, how the 
 converting the best part of the revenues of the church 
 into mere annuities for the gay and illiterate youth of 
 great families was starving out the little clerical merit 
 that was left in the country." These are the extremes 
 of the two sides. The happy medium would seem, that 
 the inhabitants should present two persons, or more, for 
 the bishop's acceptance of one'of them. 
 
 K Clergymen have got into the evil habit of imagining, that, from 
 some supposed peculiarity in religion, they are entitled, in whatever 
 regards the church to be considered as something higher than mere 
 advisers. But the privilege to which they thus pretend, can never stand 
 an instant where Protestantism has been really received ; for the very 
 corner stone of Protestantism is the right of the people, directly or 
 indirectly, to the substantive authority in the church. .... Lord 
 Clarendon had found them such wretched counsellors to his royal 
 master, that, in the bitterness of his heart, he left it as a warning for 
 posterity, that clergymen were the worst informed and took the worst 
 measures, of any class of persons who could write and read. He and 
 Sheldon, archbishop of Canterbury, came to a resolution, as bold and 
 singular in its way as the shutting up by Cromwell of the House of 
 Commons : — By nothing more formal and constitutional than a verbal 
 agreement between themselves, they transferred the right of taxing the 
 clergy from Convocation to Parliament. In little more than fifty years 
 Convocation had dropped out of the English constitution." 
 
 In a nutshell you have here the causes and conse- 
 quences of the disturbances in our trinity of churches. 
 
 CXLII. 
 
 October 18, 1845. 
 The reason that you do not so well like " Self-reliance" 
 is, " because of its selfishness." You take the one 
 extreme view of selfishness, and I take the other; — so 
 much depends upon the point of view in all things. 
 How odd you should persist in calling Emerson a 
 dreamer. When you visit a ruin of Gothic architecture, 
 are you not dreaming of what was., rather than of what 
 is before you. The Catholics early found out this 
 demand and power of types ; they have fed their people 
 through symbols, and so taught them the facts of ever- 
 
269 
 
 lasting life. They differ chiefly from us in the manner 
 of teaching. I cannot help believing, their mode is best 
 for uneducated men, and ours for intelligent men. An 
 untaught mind gathers nothing from a definition of 
 words; all abstract principles are Greek to them. 
 
 I went, on the 15th, to hear the pastoral charge of the 
 Bishop of Winchester. One thing surprised me, that his 
 visitation raised no curiosity in Kingston. These people 
 would go in troops to hear a Missionary discourse, or a 
 statement of the progress of the church in foreign parts ; 
 but of their own church at home — of its temporal and 
 spiritual welfare, they care very little. Why is this ? 
 Js it a religious principle, or a humbug ? 
 
 The address of the bishop was good, and full of com- 
 mon sense, — earnest in trying to persuade his clergy to 
 take up and to fix deeply on themselves the great prin- 
 ciples of our religion, and to think less of the minor 
 points ; and then the effect would be harmonious, because 
 possessing the true spirit of Christianity. " A truth may 
 be made untrue by pushing it to extremes," he said; 
 *' and good customs may be perverted to bad influences 
 if unwisely forced,— so much depends on fitness of time 
 and audience. The preaching of faith is the true ground- 
 work, but faith is not the entire building; the super- 
 structure, the effect, is in action upon the heart, in good 
 works ; — just as high principle is the motive-power of 
 our best social deeds. So also good customs are nothing 
 of themselves, no, not the best of our ceremonies, but as 
 they lead the mind to piety. When they offend, they 
 are injurious, because they miss their proper aim." 
 These are not his exact words, because my memory will 
 not carry them, and he spoke also more in the customary 
 form of religious people ; still however, as near as I can 
 remember, they give the spirit of his argument about 
 Puseyism. 
 
 He complimented his clergy upon the peace his diocese 
 had maintained, and the evils they had escaped by keep- 
 ing aloof from the disturbances of this question ; which 
 peace, he said wisely, was worth their sacrificing to, 
 even much of their private sentiment, for the sake of 
 their flocks. " This was the age of inquisitiveness and 
 activity, and the people must be dealt tenderly with. 
 
 r i 
 
270 
 
 We had enemies of all kinds about us, men ever ready 
 to unsettle us, and the wily power of Catholicity was not 
 the least. Our division was their strength, and their 
 strength was a fast-growing power therefore; their 
 statistics would verify both facts. So, my brethren, we 
 have need to be watchful of our flocks, risking nothing 
 foolishly, nor taking up obsolete forms because of some 
 fancied ancient divinity about them." 
 
 His archdeacon, Wilberforce, has drawn two prizes 
 since my report of his "Charge" at Epsom. He is a 
 clever man, of fine practical ability, and has a clearer 
 look-out, I think, than the bishop : his energy seems 
 more prompt; he seems more fully to understand the 
 active and fearfully inquisitive spirit of the age, and 
 therefore to see his way better before him. 
 
 If you are fond of quack medicines, do read in the 
 Times of the 15th an extract from the Lancet, and, 
 par consequence, you'll increase your doses daily, in 
 mere faith. I never read such scalding indignation, 
 such witty damnation, in my life. It is not humour, but 
 something very like it, and yet the man was swearing 
 like a trooper as every sentence flowed forth of his brain. 
 I don't know whether Wakely is now editor of that peri- 
 odical; but this article seems his, for he is "a dreadful 
 man to swear." 
 
 Mr. Times is also very witty about Trafalgar Square. 
 I am no judge, but much of the quizzing that seems so 
 fashionable about " the finest site in Europe," seems to 
 me hypercriticism. The column is surely a beautiful 
 tiling, and comparing it with that thing with the Duke 
 of York sticking on the top, — why, it is a dolphin to a 
 porpoise : there never was an uglier devil than that. 
 The fountains may be queer things; but, to me, the 
 queerest fact is the situation. I am not reconciled to the 
 association of running water with the noise and bustle of 
 the streets. A fountain should be connected with green- 
 sward, flowers, and retirement. I long to see Niagara. 
 I do think, some fine day, I shall start off to see this 
 wonder; as soon as the railway is tunnelled under the 
 sea — not at all unlikely, so they say ! 
 
 But what an ingrate the Times is ! No one person, 
 excepting always our friend Mr. Hudson, ever received 
 
271 
 
 such benefit from the railways as the Times; and yet, in 
 this paper, as if loving to cut his own head off, there is a 
 severe and alarming notice to the public about the trick- 
 ery and the responsibility of all persons connected with 
 "these mad speculations." Their patriotism should be 
 amply rewarded, to gain an equivalent for the loss of 
 advertisements. 
 
 CXLIII. 
 
 October 19, 1845. 
 
 In No. 165 of the Edinburgh Review there is a long 
 article on "The Vestiges of the Creation," a book deal- 
 ing with the abstrusest form of the most hidden science — 
 geology. It has, however, run through four editions. 
 The Editor is very uncommonly angry with the book, 
 and takes more pains to confute it than I can understand ; 
 for if it be so very contemptible an affair, why spend 85 
 pages to prove it wrong every way? The author endea- 
 vours to prove that all things had one common nebula ; 
 that all changes and varieties have arisen by electricity ; 
 the earth was so formed, and all organic things — by God, 
 of course. From one class of animals sprung another, the 
 chain always becoming more elaborate, until the two 
 last were — monkeys, and then man. This enrages the 
 Editor — this is the violation of his faith. 
 
 But what will your woman's feelings say to these 
 a ungentlemanly " remarks ? — 
 
 * Who is the author ? We thought we could trace ( a woman's foot.' 
 We now confess our error. We were led to this delusion by certain 
 charms of writing— by the popularity of the work — by its ready bound- 
 ing over the fences of the tree of knowledge — above all, by the sin- 
 cerity of faith and love with which the author devotes himself to any 
 system he has taken to his bosom But let us not be misunder- 
 stood. Within all the becoming bounds of homage, we would do honour 
 to the softer sex, little short of admiration. In taste, in sentiment, and 
 instinctive knowledge of what is right and good — in discrimination of 
 human character, and, what is most befitting of all, the moral duties of 
 common life — in every thing which forms, not merely the grace and 
 ornament, but is the cementing principle and bond of all that is most 
 exalted and delightful in society, we would place our highest trust in 
 
 woman But the ascent up the hill of science is rugged and 
 
 thorny, and ill-fitted for the drapery of a petticoat ; and ways must be 
 N 2 
 
272 
 
 passed over which are toilsome to the body, and sometimes loathsome to 
 the senses. No man living, who has not partaken of this kind of labour, 
 or, to say the very least, who has not thoroughly mastered the knowledge 
 put before his senses by the labours of other men, has any right te toss 
 out his fantastical crudities before the public, and give himself the airs 
 of a legislator over the material world." 
 
 This is a " do : " as sure as you are a woman, he knows 
 the authoress ; else, why this elaborate review of woman's 
 competency? What has that to do with the question, if 
 he confesses he was wrong in once thinking the author a 
 woman ? But this is his art, to hide the severity of his 
 attack; for, right and left, with indignation and con- 
 tempt, he endeavours to overwhelm the temerity of the 
 "woman's foot?" There are some inquiries, too. that he 
 could not discuss with a woman, about foetal generation, 
 &c. ; and this plan, you see, saves his delicacy. Doubtless, 
 however, the popularity of the book is a little marvellous, 
 for a drier subject could not be imagined, and therefore 
 there must be some very seductive charm somewhere 
 about it. I am much inclined to buy the book! 
 
 The next article is a short review of Mrs. Norton's 
 "Child of the Islands," which he commends greatly. I 
 like the pictorial effect of this stanza, but I dissent alto- 
 gether from the logic, or result obtained : — 
 
 " God hath built up a bridge 'twixt man and man, 
 Which mortal strength can never overthrow ; 
 
 Over the world it reaches its dark span — 
 The key-stone of that mighty arch is Woe ! 
 
 Joy's rainbow glories visit Earth, and go 
 Melting away to Heaven's far distant land ; 
 
 But Griefs foundations have been fixed below. 
 
 Pleasure divides us : — the Divine command 
 
 Hath made of Sorrow's links a firm connecting band.'' 
 
 1 believe God has done no such thing, but man has. He 
 has designed no woe, but man has created it by his own 
 folly. This is just that morbid religion I dislike so 
 much — a view of God's providence I will never assent to. 
 That which a father would do for his family, presuming 
 he had certain knowledge of cause and effect, that God 
 does for the human family. The religion (to violate the 
 word) is untrue, and an offence. 
 
 The third article is a review of the " Life of Luther." 
 
273 
 
 Hallam says, "This man had no great intellectual depth; 
 he had a strong mind, but one not much cultivated." 
 The author of the article differs from Hallam, and calls 
 him "a great man in the best sense of the word; he 
 simply wanted polish, which perhaps for such a work 
 as his would have spoiled much of his power and useful- 
 ness." J think both are right. This, again, is the simple 
 difference of sight occasioned by the place from whence 
 we view the man and his objects. If we look at him 
 alone through his intellect, he was not a great man, in 
 the school definition of the term ; but if we look at him 
 through his work, carried by indomitable courage, by 
 constancy of purpose, and high principle, then, who 
 shall say he was not a great man ? His measures were 
 wise, and founded on the knowledge of our common 
 nature; even his violence was well-timed, and acted as 
 a great encouragement to the timid. I believe it to be 
 a vulgar charge, that his reform began in envy and 
 lust. These feelings have no great endurance, and could 
 not have sustained him against such fearful odds. 
 
 It is very remarkable too, that all men extol refined 
 eloquence, classical knowledge, &c, and yet few men are 
 much affected by this manner. Earnest, simple, unpo- 
 lished pleading is deprecated, and yet this is the only way 
 to act upon masses of men. He has no great intellect, is 
 the cry; though he alone, by the weapons of simple rea- 
 soning and earnest zeal, gave new life to man's piety 
 and intelligence. The Editor says — 
 
 " He consistently asserted the moral power of truth throughout his 
 whole career. In January, 1521, he writes to Spalatin — ' You see 
 what Hutton wants. But I am averse to strive for the gospel by vio- 
 lence and bloodshed. By the word of God was the world subdued, by 
 this word has the Church been preserved, and by that word shall it also 
 be repaired.' Again he says, i We have a right to preach, but none 
 whatever to compel. Let us speak; the rest belongs to God. What 
 shall I gain by force ? Grimace, forced uniformity, and hypocrisy. But 
 there will be no hearty sincerit} r , no faith, no love. Where these are 
 wanting, all are wanting ; and I would not give a straw for such a 
 victory." 
 
 If this be not greatness of mind, then we nickname 
 things against our reason. The Reformation, though a 
 great work, is not the greatest work of Luther's. He 
 
 __ 
 
274 
 
 has freed man's intellect, given liberty to his intelligence, 
 upon the greatest question that ever stirred the ham an 
 heart. He made Christianity free to the world, and 
 offered it to the examination of the highest intelligence 
 of the human mind. 
 
 In the fifth article of the same number of the Review 
 is the Life of Moliere, well worth your reading. Poor 
 Moliere was kept, like our Shakspeare, a poor player 
 all his days. He had a refined intellect, classical know- 
 ledge, was courted by the most splendid court in the 
 world, — and what did he do for man ? I am glad, how- 
 ever, I know more of him. Love was a wild-flower in 
 him ; his proper manhood had no governance over it. 
 He was its slave, after admission to its sanctum. He 
 had the aid, too, of a fool of a wife, and then was not 
 free from base chains. He felt his weakness, and saw 
 her vice; and then could not help adoring. He was a 
 severe observer of others' follies, flogged mankind un- 
 sparingly, and himself too, designedly; and yet sinned 
 as much as the worst of them. 
 
 Here is the scholar and the eloquent man in contrast 
 with the unpolished greatness of Luther, both having & 
 large field to act upon, in masses of mankind. Which 
 is the great man, even for his power simply, without 
 relation to the particular purpose of either ? 
 
 CXLIV. 
 
 October 20, 1845. 
 I long to quote a few sentences of Emerson's Essay, 
 "Spiritual Laws," I have just been reading. 
 
 " If in the hours of clear reason, we should speak the severest truth ? 
 we should say, that we had never made a sacrifice. In these hours the 
 mind seems so great, that nothing can betaken from us that seems much. 
 Distress never, trifles never abate our trust. No man ever stated his 
 griefs as lightly as he might. The intellectual life may be kept clean 
 and healthful if man will live the life of nature, and not import into 
 his mind difficulties which are none of his. A few strong instincts and 
 a few plain rules suffice us. The whole course of things goes to teach 
 us faith. We need only obey. Place yourselves in the middle of the 
 stream of power and wisdom, then you are without effort impelled to 
 truth and perfect contentment." 
 
275 
 
 The next Essay, on " Love," is full of bewitching 
 painting. I presume you have read that with great 
 Care. This Essay, at least, was no mystery to you ; you 
 could understand the secret springs he teaches, and 
 wherefore they act so powerfully from such apparently 
 slight causes. At least here he is no " dreamer," talks 
 of no unreality here, because you know the unfolding — 
 how the germ spreads into visible beauty, like a flower. 
 You know what he means by " this enthusiasm that 
 seizes on man at one period, and works a revolution 
 in his mind and body ;" though, as yet, you are not 
 " united to your race by new pledges of domestic and 
 civil relations;" as yet, at least, you have not "given 
 permanence to human society." But is this true? — 
 
 " It is a fire that, kindling its first embers in the narrow nook of 
 another's bosom, glows and enlarges, until it warms and beams upon 
 multitudes of men and women, and so lights up the whole world, and all 
 nature, with its generous flames." 
 
 Still, if so, what a drawback is this ! — 
 
 tt Every thing is beautiful, seen from the point of the intellect, or as 
 truth. But all is sour, if seen as experience." 
 
 Alas, that it should be so ! However, let us try, say 
 all of you. 
 
 " With thought, with the ideal, is immortal hilarity, the rose of joy. 
 Details are always melancholy." 
 
 Hear this, and be thoughtful. You have decidedly 
 the best* of it in the imagination. Look, again, at this 
 retrospect, if you cannot understand : — 
 
 " To many men it may seem, in reviewing their experience, that they 
 have no fairer page in life's book than the delicious memory of some 
 passages wherein affection contrived to give a witchcraft, surpassing the 
 deep attraction of its own truth, to a parcel of accidental and trivial 
 
 circumstances In looking back, they may find that several 
 
 things which were not the charm, have more reality to the groping 
 memory than the charm itself which embalmed them." 
 
 Store this, again, in your memory ; and believe also 
 what follows : — 
 
 " Be our experience in particulars what it may, no man ever forgot 
 the visitations of that power to his heart and brain, which created all 
 
276 
 
 things new ; which made the face of nature radiant with purple light — 
 the morning and the night varied enchantments ; when a single tone of 
 one voice could make the heart beat, and fix trivial circumstances ux 
 the amber of memory." 
 
 And then see the bewitching picture he draws of 
 love's sentimentality. I may presume that you under- 
 stand the old man — that you can paint, indeed, faster 
 than he can, and so become " a fine mad woman." 
 Remember, however — 
 
 " If, from too much conversing with material objects, the soul was 
 gross, and misplaced its satisfaction in the body, it reaped nothing but 
 sorrow ; body being unable to fulfil the promise which beauty holds out, 
 By conversing with that which is in itself excellent, lovely, and just, the 
 lover comes to a warmer love of these nobilities, and a quicker apprehen- 
 sion of them ; and so is the one beautiful soul only the door through 
 which he enters to the society of all true and pure souls," 
 
 " Love awaits a truer unfolding than that which presides at marriages. 
 It is not at its true work when the snout of sensualism intrudes into the 
 education of young women, and withers the hope and affection of human 
 nature, by teaching that marriage signifies nothing but a housewife's 
 thrift, and that woman's life has no other aim Things are group- 
 ing themselves according to higher and more interior laws ; for real 
 affinities, the longing for harmony between the soul and the circum- 
 stance. Thus even love, which is the deification of persons, must become 
 more impersonal every day. .... At last they discover, that all which 
 at first draws them together was deciduous, has a prospective end. The 
 purification of the intellect and the heart, is the real marriage, foreseen 
 and prepared for, and wholly above their consciousness." 
 
 Then the grand closing passage comes in like solemn 
 music' — like simple divinity speaking of the eternal hope 
 in the heart of man. 
 
 CXLV. 
 
 October 21, 1845. 
 Do you believe in the communion of friends, in the 
 silent, unseen interchange of like spirits? Do you believe 
 in approximation without visible cause, as if a " third 
 party " introduced you? In Emerson's Essay, " Friend- 
 ship," he says — 
 
 " Our intellectual and active powers increase with our affection. The 
 moment we indulge our affections, the earth is metamorphosed ; thece 
 
277 
 
 is no winter, and no night. Who hears me, who understands me, be- 
 comes mine. Thus we weave social threads of our own, a new web of 
 
 relations A friend is a person with whom I may be sincere ; 
 
 before whom I may think aloud. But with ordinary people, in their 
 presence, hypocrisy begins. We parry and fend the approach by com- 
 pliments, by gossip, by amusements, by affairs. We cover up our 
 thoughts under a hundred folds. To most of us society shows, not its 
 face and eyes, but its side and back." 
 
 " It turns the stomach, where I looked for a manly furtherance, to 
 find a mask of concession. Friendship demands a religious treatment. 
 Let my friend be to me a spirit, a message, a thought, a sincerity. I 
 can get politics, and chat, and neighbourly conversation, from cheaper 
 
 companions The only way to have a friend is to be one. The 
 
 essence of friendship is entireness, a total magnanimity and trust." 
 
 These extracts are worthy your consideration. A 
 lesser devotion is not worthy the name of friendship, not 
 worthy of its solemnity. 
 
 The Essay, " Prudence," has many striking ideas, and 
 much sound and homely wisdom in its teaching. "My 
 prudence consists in avoiding, and going without." I 
 have lived many years without finding this out. Now 
 I find, the less I have, the less I want. When I pass 
 through the temptations and brilliancy of our great 
 town, I can say, I want none of you. I envy no longer 
 the carriages and all the brilliant aids of social life. They 
 are to me now something like a mockery; such is the 
 comfort of poverty, or rather such are the riches of con- 
 tentment. 
 
 " Prudence," he says, " is the virtue of the senses. It is content to 
 seek health of body by complying with physical conditions, and health 
 
 of mind by the laws of the intellect The world is filled with a 
 
 base prudence, a devotion to matter, as if we possessed no other faculties 
 than the palate, the ear, and the eye. But culture, revealing the high 
 origin of the apparent world, and aiming at the perfection of the man 
 
 as the end, sees prudence as a name for wisdom and virtue If a 
 
 man completely immerse himself in any trade, or in any pleasures, 
 for their own sake, he may be a good wheel or pin, but he is not a 
 
 cultivated man Prudence takes the laws of the world, whereby 
 
 man's being is conditional, as they are, and keeps these laws, that it may 
 enjoy their proper good." 
 
 Inscribe these sentences upon thy chosen tablets.. 
 n 5 
 
278 
 
 Suffer me to give a few sentences from the Essay on 
 " Heroism," and I will have done. 
 
 " The essence of greatness is the perception that virtue is enough. 
 The characteristic of a genuine heroism is its persistency. All men have 
 wandering impulses, fits and starts of generosity. But when you have 
 resolved to be great, abide by yourself, and do not weakly try to recon- 
 cile yourself with the world. The unremitting retention of simple and 
 high sentiments in obscure duties is hardening the character to that 
 temper which will work with o honour, if need be, in the tumult or on the 
 scaffold. It may calm the apprehension of calamity in the most sus- 
 ceptible heart, to see how quick a bound nature has set to the utmost 
 infliction of malice and wrong — * 
 
 -—— — -' Let them rave : 
 
 ' Thou art quiet in thy grave.' " 
 
 CXLVI. 
 
 October 22, 1845. 
 I think I forgot to tell you, that, in the Bishop of 
 Winchester's charge, he recommended his clergy to keep 
 steadily before their congregations the leading principles 
 of the Reformation, and wherefore the separation took 
 place. I suppose, in obedience to this mandate, we had 
 here a lecture on the perfectness and fulness of faith, and 
 the utter worthlessness of works, in contradistinction to 
 the Romanists' doctrine of the co-operation of man and 
 the necessity of works. I approve most of the latter, 
 refine and define faith as they may. Our minister said^ 
 no man's works could give him confidence of salvation. 
 Be it so. But show me the man who will confidently 
 declare his own salvation by his measure of faith. 
 There is always another condition annexed — "if he 
 believes truly and fully." He is compelled to trust in 
 mercy, that his faith be received, just as the other trusts 
 in mercy that his works may be blessed. I cannot see 
 
 the difference in the knowledge of the men The 
 
 works are always miserable, say they ; but of their faith, 
 what say they? If they would make faith a principle, 
 a spiritual power upon us, to work in us and by us, then 
 I receive such faith as being necessary before works, 
 \ because no man can usefully act upon himself until he 
 
 has taken up this great principle, and has solemnly 
 
279 
 
 determined to make it his great law. This seems to me 
 the faith as taught by Jesus, and such as I can compre- 
 hend. If J am in error, then it is the error of my con- 
 science and my reason ; and the doctrine is above my 
 power to deal with it. If faith is a lip service, a thing 
 to talk of and not to work from, I leave it. It has always 
 surprised me that our clergy should ask for works, 
 believing they are useless. I remember that the conse- 
 quences of evil deeds are direful; and therefore I 
 believe, that the consequences of good works are blessed 
 by God. I care very little for the assertion, that no 
 man's work is good. Man's faith is as imperfect ; the 
 work, indeed, is the measure of his faith. 
 
 And so you are a believer, though fearfully believing, 
 in that scandal against Mrs. Norton. I confess, it has 
 some doubtful points on the face of it; but look at the 
 solemn denial of the woman, the bitter grief it occasioned 
 her, and the heroic defiance she has thrown before the 
 world, in living words of deep-toned remonstrance, 
 — can you see these things and not believe in her 
 innocence! 
 
 I think nothing of the fashion of the day in traducing 
 O'Connell — calling his means, low means ; and his prin- 
 ciple, love of money. Actions of this kind must be made 
 appropriate to the mass he has to act upon : he acts ac- 
 cording to the necessity of the case. The "Rent" is a 
 double good ; — it keeps the whole of Ireland alive to the 
 object, and fairly pays the hire of the labourer. Don't 
 suffer yourself to be blinded by fine notions of patriotism. 
 Agitation is the only means open to his power upon the 
 government, and upon Ireland. I saw a letter, in the 
 Times of the 20th, from Lord Brougham to a French 
 Count, full of good sense, but stating that O'Connell's 
 party was really of no consequence to the nation. He 
 may mean, that the party cannot prevent the kingdom 
 from acting freely and vigorously in whatever may con- 
 cern its foreign relations, and so far he may be correct ; 
 but if lie means that its consequences are small upon our 
 social state, I differ very greatly from the opinion. 
 That Irish party has as great an effect upon England as 
 an awkward wife has upon an imperious husband. 
 Nevertheless this man will work a great good for Ire- 
 
280 
 
 land; and the cost of it will be cheap, though a great 
 inconvenience, if he succeeds in making Ireland an in- 
 tegral part of the nation — if he redeems her from the 
 position of a conquered province. 
 
 It is true, I am an advocate for railroads ; but pray do 
 not therefore imagine that I like the gambling trans- 
 actions connected with them. These are carried to a 
 miserable extent by crowds who ought not to have 
 anything to do with railroads, who have no spare capital, 
 and never think of investment. I have not a share, and 
 never had. I cannot help thinking there will be a des- 
 perate floundering in the share market; and, after the first 
 weeding, the property will be held by the right parties, 
 and at the right prices. The property is sound in most 
 of the established railroads, and will increase in true 
 value, though it may much diminish from the present 
 prices. They must defer hundreds of their schemes for 
 many years, or otherwise there will be direful work in 
 the money market. 
 
 CXLVII. 
 
 October 23, 1845. 
 
 I am much pleased with your letter received this 
 morning; it is a free attempt to deal with questions that, 
 however both of us may fail in making much of, cannot 
 but be useful to our intelligence, if only in simple exer- 
 cise. If any one sneers at your labour, ask for the 
 effect of ordinary conversation, for the effect of the 
 common gossip of the world, how far it humanizes and 
 improves the character, and unfolds the best powers of 
 the mind. How often you must be struck with the 
 germinating offshoots from a dry subject, and see that 
 busy thought ripens fruit upon the suckers, if only 
 placed well before the sun. " The illumination comes," 
 Emerson says, " from sources we wot not of;" though, 
 I presume to think, not from foreign power, but from 
 our own culture, being the consequence of an enriched 
 mind. 
 
 Pray do not make such long apologies; I cannot 
 afford the room for them in your letters. Send them to 
 your other friends, for the sake of filling the sheet : there 
 
281 
 
 they niay look graceful; to me they are an hindrance 
 only. 
 
 You don't quite Understand my plan of paying off the 
 national debt. If I buy three millions of stock, I shall 
 stand in the shoes of the late holders. As they were 
 paid the interest, so must I be. My plan is, to keep up 
 the tax as it is for 200 years, instead of for eternity,, 
 That is my secret! Now therefore confute it. Your 
 complaint of the length of time for my operation is 
 positively laughable, looking at what we have done, and 
 of what we are likely to do for centuries. Some people 
 imagine that it is a good thing to have a national debt, 
 as a place of deposit. So it may be; but somehow, that 
 the people should pay 28 millions a year for this accom- 
 modation to some 80,000 persons, does seem paying 
 smartly for others' good. 
 
 The cheaper we make our commodities, the better for 
 us. A cheap manufactory commands a great trade ; and 
 so also, a nation that sells cheap deals with all the world. 
 It is better to make twelve transactions at 2J per cent 
 profit, than six transactions at 5 per cent. As to your 
 supposition, that we should benefit our neighbours too 
 greatly, — do you understand that for us to be prosperous, 
 other nations must be poor ? The richer they are, the 
 better for us, as long as we are the most industrious, and 
 know how to apply our labour skilfully. Most people 
 like to deal with wealthy customers. 
 
 I have just been to an eighteen-penny fish dinner at 
 Billingsgate, — a capital feed, and crowded by voracious 
 mouths. Suppose they charged 3s. each, how many 
 would they get daily ? In like manner, if we can sell 
 100 pieces of cloth where the Germans can sell but 50, 
 our profit of 5 per cent is as good, aye better, than their 
 10 per cent, — we employ twice the number of our crowd- 
 ing population. If you desire to see the effect of prohi- 
 bition and protection, look at the wine-growers of France. 
 They make more than they can sell, and we make more 
 cotton goods than we can sell : what should these parties 
 do, if they were not fools? If we produce nothing, can 
 we buy anything? Can the wine-growers of France buy 
 even French calicoes, if they cannot sell their wine. See 
 their petition to the French Chamber. 
 
282 
 
 You have thought justly, I think, about the Oxford 
 Tracts. The people are too far advanced to suffer them 
 to have much power over their understanding. Every 
 reflecting mind, now, demands that every new dogma, or 
 old dogma revived, shall be consistent with man's reason 
 and conscience. The priesthood is known to consist of 
 men only — of such men as have very little more of 
 spiritual power about them than the generality of intel- 
 ligent people. 
 
 CXLVIII. 
 
 October 24, 1845. 
 What think you of this predicate in the Edinburgh 
 Hevierv? — 
 
 " The good which one active character effects, and the wise order 
 which he establishes, may outlive him for a long period : and we all hate 
 each other's crimes so much, by which we gain nothing, that, in pro- 
 portion as public opinion acquires ascendancy in any particular country, 
 every public institution becomes more and more guaranteed from 
 abuse." 
 
 Said I not to you, that the old maids were really useful 
 in every village ! 
 
 In the last number of the Edinburgh Review, there 
 is a critique on Guizot's "Essays and Lectures on 
 History:" it will much interest you. The Editor has 
 extracted the outlines, so as to give a good picture of the 
 beginning of society immediately after the fall of Rome. 
 Here you will see the origin of many puzzling things, 
 and also the real history of the progress of nations. 
 It will surprise you to see how little kings have had to 
 do with the advance of mankind. The government, 
 generally, has been more of a hindrance than a help for 
 this purpose ; and it seems that the whole effect of what 
 may be called progress, has arisen out of or through the 
 efforts of a few leading spirits acting upon the general 
 intelligence of the middle classes. What may be called 
 the picture of a people, is expressed in their laws, man- 
 ners, and pastimes. Some one has said, " The history of 
 a village is written on the village green. " This is true 
 also of any place or country. 
 
283 
 
 Guizot says— 
 
 " In our survey of civilization, we cannot help being convinced that 
 it is still very young. Assuredly human condition is far from being as 
 yet all that it is capable of becoming. Let any man question himself aa 
 to the possible good which he comprehends and hopes for, and then 
 contrast his idea with what is realized in the world, and he will be satisfied 
 that society and civilization are in a very early stage of their progress." 
 
 What think you of this hypothesis? — 
 
 ** Liberty of thought — taking reason for the starting point and guide- 
 is an idea essentially sprung from antiquity, an idea which modern 
 society owes to Greece and Rome. We evidently did not receive it 
 trom Christianity. A strongly organized and energetically governed 
 society saved us. It is not too much to affirm, that, at the period in 
 question, the Christian Church saved Christianity. It was the Church, 
 and its institutions, its magistrates, its authority, which maintained itself 
 against the decay of the Empire from within, and against Barbarism from 
 without — which won over the Barbarians, and became the civilizing 
 principle, the principle of fusion between' the Romans and "the Barbaric 
 world." 
 
 So speaks Guizot. The Editor says — 
 
 " That, without its compact organization the Christian hierarchy could 
 have so rapidly taken possession of the uncultivated minds of the 
 barbarians ; that, before the conquest was completed, the conquerors 
 should have universally adopted the religion of the vanquished, if that 
 religion had been recommended to them by nothing but its intrinsic 
 superiority, — we agree with Guizot in thinking incredible. The true 
 explanation is to be found in the power of intellectual superiority." 
 
 How admirably the following short sentence describes 
 the two chief historians of France : — 
 
 " Guizot is the philosopher of the period of which Thierry is the 
 painter." 
 
 Guizot says — 
 
 " The activity of a great man is portrayed, or expressed, by his under- 
 standing better than other people the wants of his time, its present 
 exigencies, what society needs to enable it to subsist, and to obtain its 
 natural development. He knows how to wield the powers of society, and 
 to direct them skilfully to the realization of this end. Hence proceed 
 his power and his glory j it is in virtue of this, that as soon as he appears, 
 he is understood, accepted, followed, — that all give their willing aid to 
 the work which he is performing for the benefit of the whole. But he 
 does not stop here. When the real wants of his time are somewhat 
 
284 
 
 satisfied, the ideas and the will of the great man proceed further ; he 
 indulges in combinations, more or less vast and spacious, but which are 
 not, like his previous labours, founded on the actual state, the common 
 interests and determinate wishes of* society, but are remote and arbitrary. 
 He appears to extend his activity and influence indefinitely, and to pos- 
 sess the future as he possesses the present. For some time he is 
 followed, believed in, and obeyed. The public, however, soon discovers 
 that it is impelled in a direction in which it has no desire to move. 
 Hence, disquietude first, and then uneasiness ; he is followed but slug- 
 gishly and reluctantly; next, he is censured and complained of; finally, 
 he is abandoned and falls." 
 
 Lo ! was the man drawing the portrait of "Sir Robert," 
 or of Guizot? or, is the picture applicable to all great 
 men who boldly pursue their great plans for the benefit 
 of mankind? 
 
 In page 406 you will find the nucleus of our present 
 social state, as distinguished, but still emanating, from 
 the oneness and tyranny of the old governors of the 
 earth, — in the history of feudalism ; in its expansion 
 into local government and popular representation — into 
 English liberty. I would particularly recommend this 
 picture to you, for it is drawn by the hand of a master. 
 By it you may understand the varying branches of our 
 present state, from the origin and roots. See October 
 Number, 1845. 
 
 The Editor, in running over the outlines of English 
 history, and comparing them with the history of France, 
 says— 
 
 " Early English history is made up of the acts of the Barons. The 
 immediate cause is to be found in the Conquest. The Normans did not, 
 like the Goths and Franks, over-run and subdue an unresisting popula- 
 tion. They encamped in the midst of a people of spirit and energy, 
 many times more numerous, and almost as Avarlike as themselves. 
 That they prevailed over them all, was but the result of superior union. 
 They were an army ; and an army supposes a commander and military 
 discipline. From these causes royalty was, from the beginning, much 
 more powerful among the Anglo-Saxons than it ever became in France 
 while feudality remained in vigour. But the same circumstances which 
 rendered it impossible for the Barons to hold their ground against regal 
 encroachments except by combination, had kept up the power and the 
 habit of combination among them. In French history we never, until 
 a late period, hear of confederacies among the nobles : English history is 
 
285 
 
 full of them. We had a powerful king, and a powerful body of nobles. 
 To give the needful authority to any act of general government, the con- 
 currence of both was essential ; hence Parliaments, elsewhere only oc- 
 casional, were in England habitual. But the natural state of these rival 
 powers was one of conflict ; and the weaker side, which was usually that 
 of the Barons, soon found that it stood in need of assistance. They were 
 not strong enough, as Guizot says, to impose at the same time on the 
 king their liberty, and on the people their tyranny. As they had been 
 obliged to combine for the sake of their own defence, so they found 
 themselves under the necessity of calling on the people in aid of their 
 coalition." 
 
 " There can be no doubt, as Guizot says, that this simultaneous 
 unfolding of the different social elements has greatly contributed 
 to make England obtain, earlier than any of the continental nations, 
 the establishment of a government at once orderly and free. From 
 the same causes, national good sense, and intelligence in public affairs 
 formed themselves at an earlier period. Good sense in politics con- 
 sists in taking account of all facts, appreciating them, and giving to 
 each its place : this, in England, was a necessity of her social condition 5 , 
 
 a natural result of her course of civilization Whoever observes 
 
 attentively the genius of the English nation will be struck by two facts — 
 the sureness of its common sense and practical ability ; and its deficiency 
 of general ideas and commanding intellect, as applied to theoretical 
 questions." 
 
 Could you learn more of our origin and progress, the 
 spirit of our laws, freedom, and civil equality, if you 
 had a disquisition filling a folio? To me this appears a 
 perfect picture of English life then, and of the fruits we 
 have reaped by its consequences. 
 
 CXLIX. 
 
 October 25, 1845. 
 Emerson's Essay, "The Over-Soul," is no doubt diffi- 
 cult to comprehend. By the passage, " Thus is the uni- 
 verse alive. That soul which within us is a sentiment, 
 outside of us is a law. It is God:" — I understand by it 
 that he intends to convey, that God has given us of the 
 intelligence of himself; within, is close likeness to God's 
 spirit. We feel it as a sentiment of spirituality, but its 
 oneness and universality is God. Here is no presumption 
 of character about the thought, but only of degree. 
 
286 
 
 I beg of you to read Sergeant Talfourd's address to the 
 Subscribers of the Manchester AthenaBum, in to-day's 
 Times. It is the highest philosophy of common sense 
 (not commonly addressed to ordinary people) dealing 
 with the spirit's purposes, in a manner to act upon the 
 comprehension of unlettered men. I am always delighted 
 to see our great men speaking of the soul's highest pow- 
 ers to ordinary people ; they cannot soar too loftily, and 
 ask too much, so that they will adapt their language to 
 the apprehension of common people. The highest of 
 all imaginable spirituality was taught by one man, in 
 words that children may comprehend. The thought is 
 never too high, but only the expression of it is made so. 
 In every man there is the germ of greatness, — it requires 
 but the unfolding. 
 
 I walked to a neighbouring church the other day, to 
 hear a very clever German. He is the appointed minis- 
 ter of the English Church. He has not lost the German 
 accent entirely, nor, as it seems to me, the early impres- 
 sions of the Catholic Church. He chaunted the service 
 throughout; has no clerk, but cultivates the children's 
 talent for the responses and for singing. He preached hi 
 the surplice. Candles and flowers were on the stone 
 altar; and indeed the chancel was painted beautifully, 
 in devices expressive of the mystic union of God and his 
 Church. The church has been newly built, and in ex- 
 cellent taste. The seats are free and uninclosed. I 
 remember only one or two passages in the sermon. He 
 said, To give any thing usefully, the receiver must com- 
 prehend its usefulness — to persuade a man, you must 
 come to the level of his powers; — that to offer a faith of 
 abstract quality, however beautiful and consistent in itself, 
 for the comprehension of unlettered men, without modi- 
 fication and symbol such as the man can comprehend, 
 is to lose the labour, and to confuse the intelligence of 
 the congregation. " I am about to administer the Lord's 
 Supper," he continued " and I invite you to come to me 
 before the clay appointed, that I may explain the symbol of 
 your salvation ; for the Church, for her servants, are the 
 expositors of this mystery." This seems very like Catho- 
 licity, all this. 
 
287 
 
 In reading again the early numbers of the Edinburgh 
 Review, one is surprised to see the great change that has 
 taken place in the conduct of the work. Then the Editor 
 adopted a short critical analysis of the book reviewed, 
 and gave a few quotations to show its spirit. But now 
 the book is rarely reviewed, but an essay is written on 
 the same subject, which evidently teaches the judgment 
 of the reader to deal with the original in a critical spirit, 
 and often astonishes one by its superior knowledge of the 
 subject. This latter mode, if not so amusing, has the 
 great merit of doing something better than finding fault, 
 and fairly puts to good issue the book and its com- 
 mentary. It requires a very superior ability to the 
 other mode ; for thousands are capable of seeing defi- 
 ciencies, but only a few could venture boldly into this 
 competition. 
 
 CL. 
 
 October 28, 1845. 
 
 Just for the practice of the thing, for my information 
 at least, do tell me how O'Conneli is misleading the Irish 
 people — the Irish poor. A good starting point would 
 be, to take up the condition of the people before O'Con- 
 nell's influence was exercised, and contrast it with their 
 present condition ; and, to exhibit the political informa- 
 tion of the same classes — in every rank if you please — 
 contrast the wild animal fury, the ever ready quality of 
 rebellion at that time, with the present equally ready but 
 better directed animal power. And was her people more 
 industrious, less savage, more faithful, more loyal than 
 now? Was her cry then for solid justice, and now for 
 the sham of justice? Has O'Conneli obtained nothing 
 for Ireland — thrown off no slavish shackles ; and has he 
 not made the country less like a conquered province? 
 
 Indeed, you appear to forget the oppression, the sub- 
 jugation, and you argue as if the government of Ireland 
 was carried on in good faith, as of one united people, 
 under one law, with the same advantages ; — but is it so ? 
 Show me that O'Conneli is disturbing a generous system 
 — prove to me that he is a demagogue, and not a patriot, 
 and then I will admit your severity to be just. We pro- 
 
288 
 
 fess to speak of the United Kingdom, and yet deal with 
 Ireland as we have never dared to deal with Scotland, 
 nor with America. This left-handed justice is a greater 
 crime than O'Connell's agitation, dark as its movements 
 are, and foreboding as it does a direful struggle between 
 what should be, what professes to be, a brotherhood of 
 one great and united people. 
 
 What do they ask for, inconsistent with their rights, 
 if we are one people? If they are a province, they are 
 entitled to domestic government, like a federal state ; and 
 therefore the cry of Repeal is a proper one. Ireland 
 with a local legislature could have very little greater 
 effect upon England than the city of London has upon 
 our government. And although I am not an advocate 
 for this separation, I believe it would embarrass the Queen 
 less than the present, and long-continued, state of affairs. 
 I should like to try it. 
 
 In No. 3 of the Edinburgh Review is a good article 
 on Gentz' "Etat de l'Europe." One passage quoted from 
 Gentz is worthy your attention, as exhibiting a picture of 
 English industry and skill from a man whose judgment 
 cannot be much warped by prejudice: — 
 
 " With regard to the alleged monopoly which England is said to usurp 
 or enjoy," Gentz observes, that "advantages to which these odious names 
 have been applied, are nothing more than the natural and fair rewards of 
 superior skill and industry ; and that it would be an injury to the world 
 at large, if they were to be intercepted or withdrawn. The real source of 
 the commercial greatness of England is to be found in that honest, in- 
 dustry and distinguished skill which will scarcely „ be imputed to any 
 nation as a crime, and which her rivals should rather imitate than descry. 
 
 As to the charge of England having exerted herself to depress 
 
 and discourage the industry of her neighbours, it is confuted by the 
 absurdities it involves. The rude and the beggarly can never be good 
 customers ; and they who have nothing to sell, will not long get any 
 thing to buy. She sells only to buy with advantage ; and could not 
 subsist, if the surrounding countries did not supply her with commodi- 
 ties as valuable as those which she furnishes to them in return 
 
 What is called the monopoly of England, therefore, is nothing else than 
 the preference which good and cheap articles will always obtain in the 
 market, over those that are dear and defective." 
 
 Here is the truth of our power, and the necessity of 
 our policy, exhibited to us. You will here see the need 
 
289 
 
 of our foreign exchanges, and that these exchanges 
 should be made with an industrious people, or with a 
 highly favoured country in natural advantages. Our 
 manufactories are mines of wealth, as if gold were dug 
 with a spade, to buy and appropriate the industry and 
 abundance of other nations for our particular enjoyment ; 
 and with this benignant result, that whatsoever benefits 
 us, benefits other people in like proportion. Both only 
 give of their abundance in fair barter. 
 
 In the same number of the Edinburgh Review is 
 " Hayley's Life of Cowper." Have you read the book? 
 What an easy and graceful letter-writer was this sensi- 
 tive Cowper. A series of letters, or a kind of essay, on 
 general subjects, particularly on morality, would have 
 influenced the public mind more than his poetry — would 
 have had more marked success than the " Spectator." He 
 was competent to take up Addison's cloak. What an 
 apparent anomaly it is, that such a dejected mind should 
 be able to write so wittily, so playfully, and yet with such 
 pertinent truth. He seems to have a keener sense of 
 fun than other people, and yet no man teaches wisdom 
 better. 
 
 In No. 4 of the Edinburgh Review you may see 
 M Darwin's Temple of Nature;" an article well worth 
 reading. Darwin appears to me to have held much 
 the same opinion as the author of the " Vestiges of the 
 Creation." I see, in to-day's Times, that Sir R. Vivian 
 is believed to be the author of " The Vestiges." Darwin, 
 in speaking of his plan, says — 
 
 " The poem which is here offered to the public, does not pretend to 
 instruct by deep researches of reasoning ; its aim is simply to amuse, by 
 bringing distinctly to the imagination the beautiful and sublime images 
 of the operations of Nature, in the order, as the author believes, in which 
 the progressive course of time presented them." 
 
 The Editor of the Review says — 
 
 " The author does not simply mean to describe the known pheno- 
 mena of nature : he returns to Chaos and Old Night ; and attempts to 
 penetrate the veil which must for ever conceal his mysteries from mortal 
 eye, and affects to disclose an imaginary order and progress of things, 
 from sluggish and unorganized matter, upwards, into living, intelligent, 
 and moral existence. He has attempted to show, that the object has 
 
290 
 
 been accomplished solely by the slow and spontaneous operation of 
 certain primary and general laws, impressed on rude matter by the great 
 Author of Nature." 
 
 Why, " The Vestiges," then, is only a second-hand book ! 
 
 Darwin says, " That heat from cheraic dissolution 
 springs, and with strong repulsion parts the exploding 
 mass ;" another change ensues of lymph or gas, and then 
 attraction begins again in new combinations. 
 
 " Hence without parent, by spontaneous birth, 
 Rise the first specks of animated earth : 
 From Nature's womb the plant or insect swims, 
 And buds or breathes with microscopic limbs. 
 Rings join to rings, and irritated tubes 
 Clasp with young lips the nutrient globes or tubes. 
 In branching cones the living web expands, 
 Lymphatic ducts and convoluted glands ; 
 Aortal tubes propel the nascent blood, 
 And lengthening veins absorb the refluent flood ; 
 Leaves, lungs, and gills, the vital ether breathe, 
 On earth's green surface, or the waves beneath. 
 Next, the long nerves unite their silver train, 
 And young Sensation permeates the brain; 
 Through each new sense the keen emotions dart, 
 Flush the young cheek, and swell the throbbing heart. 
 Last, in thick swarms associations spring, 
 Thoughts join to thoughts, to motions motions cling ; 
 Whence in long trains of catenation flow 
 Imagined joy, and everlasting woe." 
 
 If this be too much matter of fact for your ideas of 
 poetry, you will like at least the entree of the god of love 
 into our world : — 
 
 " Now on swift wheels, descending like a star, 
 Alights young Eros from his radiant car ; 
 On angel wings attendant Graces move, 
 And hail the God of sentimental love. 
 * * * » 
 
 Warm as the sun-beam, pure as driven snows, 
 The enamoured God for young Dione glows ; 
 Marks her white neck beneath the gauze's fold, 
 Her ivory shoulders, and her locks of gold ; 
 With holy kisses wanders o'er her charms, 
 And claspsthe beauty in Platonic arms ; 
 
291 
 
 O'er female hearts with chaste seduction reigns,^ 
 And binds society in silken chains." 
 
 The next article is " Lady Mary Wortley Mon- 
 tague's Works." She was a clever woman, but not very 
 loveable. To an expostulation from her lover, about 
 her gay and somewhat unsteady character, she answers, 
 in this spirited manner: — 
 
 " I have showed, in every action of my life, an esteem for you, that 
 at least challenges a grateful regard. But, in recompense for so clear 
 and so disinterested a proceeding, must I ever receive injuries and ill- 
 usage ? I have not the usual pride of my sex — I can bear being told 
 I am in the wrong ; but tell it me gently. Perhaps I have been indis- 
 creet : I came young into the hurry of the world. I cannot answer for 
 the observations that have been made on me : all who are malicious 
 attack the careless and the defenceless ; I own myself to be both. 
 I know not anything I can say more, to shew my perfect desire of 
 pleasing you and making you easy, than the proffer to be confined with 
 you in what manner you pleased. Would any woman but me renounce 
 all the world for one ? or, would any man but you be insensible of such 
 a proof of sincerity ?" 
 
 This answer would not have satisfied me. That such 
 ideas, " of renouncing all for one," " of abandoning the 
 world," and being confined with a man, should enter the 
 head of a girl on the point of marriage, astonishes me, 
 and exhibits a calculation I cannot help thinking de- 
 grading to a woman. But, just to prevent any mistake 
 about the hereafter, she says — 
 
 " You think, if you married me, I should be passionately fond of 
 3'ou one month, and of somebody else the next. Neither would happen. 
 I can esteem, I can be a friend ; but I don't know whether I can love. 
 Expect all that is complaisant and easy, but never what is fond, in 
 me." 
 
 I confess, there is a good deal of true courage in 
 the following quotation : — 
 
 " I have not spirits to dispute with you any longer. You say, you 
 have not yet determined. Let me determine for you, and save you 
 the trouble of writing again. Adieu, for ever : make no answer. 
 I wish, among the variety of your acquaintance, you may find some 
 one to please you ; and cannot help the vanity of thinking, should 
 you try them all, you will not find one who will be so sincere in her 
 treatment, though a thousand more deserving, and every one hap- 
 pier." 
 
292 
 
 The result of this marriage was unhappy. It seems, 
 indeed, to have been a marriage of convenance. He 
 was much older than she was j and, it would appear, his 
 rank and wealth won her. 
 
 Have you ever heard it observed, that a superior mind 
 is more poetical, more fanciful in its expression, in old 
 age, than in its youth. It is observed of Bacon by 
 Macaulay, that " in his young days he adopted a severe 
 style of writing, but as he grew old he grew poetical, 
 warm in fancy, and full of imaginative ardour." This 
 clever woman has the necessary severity of youth, in 
 expression at least, whatever may be thought of her 
 later style. This is a happy passage, I think : — 
 
 " The world is past its infancy, and will be no longer fed on spoon 
 meat. A collective body of men make a gradual progress in under- 
 standing, like that of a single individual. When I reflect on the vast- 
 increase of useful as well as speculative knowledge the last three 
 hundred years has produced, I imagine we are now arrived at that 
 period of life which answers to fifteen. I cannot think we are older, 
 when I recollect the many palpable follies which are still almost 
 universally persisted in." 
 
 CLI. 
 
 October 30, 1845. 
 
 I have been reading the review of "Richardson's 
 Correspondence," in No. 9 of the Edinburgh Review. I 
 suppose the infatuation of the women of his day is 
 familiar to you. One lady compliments him outra- 
 geously, and says, she is sorry he is not a woman, and 
 blest with the means of shining as Clarissa Harlowe; for 
 a person capable of drawing such a character would be 
 able to act in the same manner, if in a like situation. 
 She must have thought the temptation rather agreeable, 
 one would think. 
 
 There is a letter in the correspondence, from Mrs. 
 Klopstock, full of heart and naturalness. I'll quote a 
 little of it for you. It will look like a contrast to 
 Lady Mary Montague's love affair. She is telling 
 Richardson of her courtship and marriage, apparently 
 as if he had asked her for the information. She says— 
 
293 
 
 ** After having seen him (Klopstock) for two hours, 1 was obliged to 
 pass the evening in company which never had been so wearisome to me. 
 I could not speak, I could not play. I thought I saw nothing but 
 Klopstock. I saw him again the next day, and the following ; but the 
 fourth day he departed. It was a strong hour, the hour of his depart- 
 ure. He wrote soon; after, and from that time our correspondence 
 was a delightful one. I sincerely believed my love was friendship. 
 I showed my friends his letters ; but they rallied me, and said I was 
 in love. I complained, they must have a very friendless heart if they 
 had no idea of friendship to a man as well as a woman I per- 
 ceived, at last, it was love, but I would not believe it But 
 
 Klopstock, after eight months, said plainly, that he loved, and I 
 started as for a wrong thing. I answered, it was not love I felt, but 
 friendship ; we had not known each other long enough to love (as if 
 love must have more time than friendship.) This was sincerely my 
 
 meaning then Afterwards we loved, and we believed that we 
 
 loved ; a short time after this, I could tell Klopstock that I loved. 
 .... We married — and I am the happiest wife in the world. In 
 
 some few months it will be four years that I am married, that I 
 am so happy, and still I doat upon Klopstock as if he was my bride- 
 groom. ...... And as happy as I am in love, so happy am I in 
 
 friendship— in my mother, in two sisters, and five other women. How 
 rich I am ! " 
 
 I saw just such a being as Mrs. Klopstock, the other 
 day at Sandgate, who came to consult my partner's wife 
 about taking the next house, belonging to a friend of 
 her's. After some little chat, she said, " I am a widow: 
 I am afraid to take such a large house. I have not 
 much money. I teach the French language; and I have 
 object to make boarding-house for some ladies. Do you 
 think my plan is not too great risk for me? Some ladies 
 here have urged me to try, but I have much fear. I am 
 told you are merchant's wife, as I was, and I have 
 ventured to consult you on my plan. You will forgive 
 me — yes, you English ladies feel sympathy for me. Ah ! 
 I have lost my husband, my children, my fortune, 
 every thing, in America. But I will struggle : if I can 
 keep myself, support by my labour myself, I shall be 
 happy ; I shall not be miserable for all my friends." 
 Poor thing ! we dissuaded her from the venture, and, 
 I think, properly so. She will soon make a better ven- 
 ture, I hope ; for she was really beautiful, and young, 
 >and very interesting. 
 
 o 
 
 i 
 
294 
 
 Just work for me these two or three sums, that's a 
 dear ! If thirty millions of money be required to set the 
 railroads afloat, to commence the works,— how much of 
 the very same cash will be applied to pay the second 
 call to go on with the works ? 
 
 If eight hundred millions of cash be required to finish 
 the railroads now contemplated, — what sum of money, 
 as a circulating medium, will be necessary to carry the 
 job through ? Will twenty millions ? 
 
 Of the thirty millions already spent in the railroads, 
 where is it? and what part of is now afloat? Is all 
 afloat, or is some part of it buried ? 
 
 Is not the labour of the country, mental and manual, 
 the real power for constructing railroads ? Is more 
 money necessary than will keep these things in action ? 
 What is paid for one railroad, I happen to think, will 
 pay for another ; not indeed by the same pocket, but by 
 another's. 
 
 I ask these questions of you, because there seems a 
 great difficulty to understand where the money is to come 
 from to carry on this trade. If they will not speculate too 
 fast, but give themselves time, there is no limit to our 
 power. Every thing, every difficulty, is in the question 
 of time. A banker, of Lombard Street, was saying to 
 me the other day, "Where is the cash to come from?" 
 "Where that came from, that paid for the Western, the 
 Birmingham, the Midland, &c. — from men's pockets !" 
 I replied. No part of that is buried, nor dormant even ; 
 for whoever received it, has it to spend again. A man 
 can wear out a jacket, but not a sovereign. Labour also is 
 as inexhaustible as the light. The test of short cash is, 
 are there more sellers than buyers in the funds ? That the 
 funds are sold cheaper, is a proof only of other occupa- 
 tion of the cash. I don't think there is ten millions of 
 money devoted solely to railway purposes at one time. 
 Perhaps there never will be fifty. The accumulated 
 cash of England every year must be much more than 
 that ; I mean, the profit funds of our people, after paying 
 every expence, must be a much larger sum than fifty 
 millions. 
 
295 
 
 CLII. 
 
 November 1, 1845. 
 
 There is a capital Punch this week, full of choice fun. 
 " Kitty Lorimer" is a very useful ballad. But what will 
 you say to " The Men who carry other people's bills." 
 Poor old Duke! what an Irish blackguard they make of 
 him ! As for " Sir Robert," the hit is capital — " The open- 
 ing of the ports" — " Try Cobden's corn plaister." What 
 spirit, too, in the wood-cut to " The Knight of the Magic 
 Loom." And that little bit, ' The Fox counselling the 
 Chicken ;' it deserves a far better commentary. And 
 then O'Connell as a sturdy butcher's boy — oh ! it's too 
 bad. " Punch's Prospectus" is worth reading : there are 
 not many men of fun, who so well know their own profit. 
 Are you pleased with the " Political Dictionary?" " Bed 
 of justice" is good; and "Beggary," and " Benevolence." 
 " Jeams on Time Bargains" is very shrewd too. And 
 " Jacques in Capel-Court" is a capital travestie. There 
 is one line in u The House of Brunswick " wcx th a crown 
 — "The foundation's crumbling away, forgetting the prin- 
 ciples it was built upon. Those Britons, who can behave 
 like bricks, may be of use to the House of Brunswick in 
 its present trying juncture." Look at the "Voluptuous 
 Chancellor ;" his left leg looks drunk : but what are the 
 " Shades" behind? 
 
 Did you like Hudson's speech at the London Tavern, 
 as chairman of the Eastern Counties Railway? (In yes- 
 terday's Times.} They tell me, he injured the property 
 by that speech : wherefore I know not, not possessing 
 their Shibboleth. But see the amount of cash received, 
 for one week, on seventeen railroads — .£130,000 ! and 
 steadily increasing also. What wonder people should 
 get cracked. Have you read the clever article in Black- 
 wood, about the " Glenmutchkin Railroad." There is a 
 great deal of truth about it — it wants a little discount for 
 colour. It is not so extravagant as the following transla- 
 tion of Milton's : — 
 
 " O Hell ! what do mine eyes with grief behold ! 
 Into our room of bliss thus high advanced 
 Creatures of other mould." 
 o 2 
 
296 
 
 ? Puissances de 1'Enfer, voila done cette race, 
 A qui notre Oppresseur a promis notre place ! " 
 • See De Lille' 's Translation criticised in the Edinburgh Review, 
 ctober, 1806. 
 
 CLIII. 
 
 November 2, 1845. 
 I would recommend you to read, in the July number, 
 1806, of the Edinburgh Review, the critique on the 
 "Historical View of Christianity;" wherein the Author 
 attempts to prove, or at least to strengthen greatly, 
 Christianity, by quotations from its enemies. The Edi- 
 tor of the Review says of this attempt : — 
 
 " We should take care, when we contend with infidels, not to employ 
 any slippery weapons which may drop out of our hands. . . . Christianity 
 is often attempted to be supported, in its Divine mission, by appealing 
 to its spread, and the promise of the Author, illustrated by the grain of 
 mustard-seed. But the infidel may answer, — that Mahomet, in the 
 seventh year of the Hegira, predicted that the splendour of the empire 
 he should found would eclipse that of the Persian monarchy. The 
 prediction was verified ; but that would not be admitted to furnish un- 
 equivocal and unexceptionable proof of the Divine mission of Islamism." 
 
 In speaking of the religion of the ancients, the Editor 
 
 says — 
 
 " The plan of the old mythology appears to have been contrived with 
 great skill and beauty. It was a system of Nature concealed under the 
 veil of allegory. A thousand fanciful fables contained a secret and 
 mystic meaning. The history of the revolutions of the physical world 
 was interwoven with the fictions of the imagination ; and the gods of the 
 people were considered by the statesman and the philosopher as symbols, 
 emblems, or personifications, which were indicative or illustrative of the 
 system of nature and the universe, as well as of the powers and attri- 
 butes of that Supreme Being who governs all things. The illiterate, 
 however, overlooked the meaning, and the fable itself was religiously 
 believed. History was lost in mythology ; the marvellous was blended 
 with every thing ; and popular superstition then, as always, was incapable 
 of being sufficiently glutted with improbabilities." 
 
 And again he says — 
 
 " The religious errors of the multitude were confirmed by their civil 
 institutions ; were connected with the practice and cultivation of the 
 most delightful of the arts— with poetry, painting, and sculpture ; and 
 
297 
 
 seemed to be sanctioned by the general voice of mankind, the Greek and 
 the barbarian, the philosopher and the peasant. It might then be 
 deemed inexpedient to disturb the repose of the world by an exposition 
 of the absurdities which were apparently revered by all, and which, in 
 fact, were only ridiculed by a few. Enlightened men might consider that 
 the progress of refinement would gradually produce— what it appears 
 to have produced — a general indifference to the ancient superstitions. 
 The contempt which men of education felt, and frequently expressed, 
 for the vulgar creed, seems to have been gradually extended to all 
 ranks. . . . But," he adds afterwards, " mankind in general are too 
 prOne to superstition to endure its absence long ; and the doctrine of 
 pure monotheism was too subtle and refined for the ignorant and un- 
 taught multitude." 
 
 The Editor afterwards says — 
 
 " While the ancient fabric of Paganism was thus insensibly melting 
 away, any foreign god was yet welcome to the Pantheon, and every 
 kind of heathen worship was at once received and ridiculed at Rome." 
 
 He then proceeds to deal with the introduction of 
 Christianity there, and says — ■ 
 
 " Human nature is ever prompt to inquire in "» subjects which are 
 inscrutable to the limited understanding of man. ? he Christians were 
 indefatigable in gaining proselytes. They astonished the multitude by 
 the history of prodigies ; dazzled many by their descriptions of celestial 
 enjoyments ; alarmed more by their denunciations of eternal tortures ; 
 and probably amazed all by the confidence with which they proclaimed 
 the approaching dissolution of nature, and the coming of the kingdom 
 of heaven Those writers who maintained the cause of the an- 
 cient religion, were driven to the dilemma of maintaining the polytheism 
 of the people, which they did not believe; or to have sunk the gods into 
 emblems of the physical elements, to abstractions and symbols of 
 various attributes of a sole and omnipotent Deity, which would have 
 been, in the eyes of the people, to have abandoned the cause of Pagan- 
 ism. .... Paganism, as it was explained by philosophers, was unin- 
 telligible to the vulgar ; as it was understood by the vulgar, it appeared 
 ridiculous to philosophers." 
 
 The Editor then recurs to the design of the author, of 
 proving Christianity from its enemies, and says it is full 
 of danger: — 
 
 " The experience of our lives has not helped to convince us, that the 
 zealous are apt to be accurate, or the enthusiastic prudent. The author 
 quotes Gibbon's sly and ironical remarks on the miracles of the Jews 
 
29S 
 
 as proof of the truth of Bible story. ' The contemporaries of Moses 
 and Joshua,' says Gibbon, ' had beheld with careless indifference the 
 most amazing miracles. But, under the pressure of every calamity, the 
 belief of those miracles has preserved the Jews of a later period from the 
 universal contagion of idolatry ; and, in contradiction to every known 
 principle of the human mind, that singular people seems to have yielded 
 a stronger and more ready assent to the traditions of their remote 
 ancestors, than to the evidence of their own senses.' " 
 
 The Editor appears as much puzzled as you can be, 
 as to the demonstration of this passage, as to the way in 
 which it supports Christianity. 
 
 CUV. 
 
 November 3, 1845. 
 
 Guizot is a very eminent man, no doubt — a man of 
 great industry, as well as possessing fine abilities. His 
 labour, however, has nothing uncommon about it; or, at 
 least, hundreds produce as great results. Our Brougham 
 Is an instance of greater labour ; he has accomplished 
 very notable things in a larger range than Guizot. But 
 the uninitiated forget the power of practice, and the out- 
 lay of early days—how the ground has been prepared 
 long before — the silent operations begun years ago. 
 These men bring into a focus what has been spread 
 throughout the field of their rich imagination, and so 
 give, almost at one time, the entire expression of long 
 remembrance and matured judgment. 
 
 You are perfectly correct in saying, that no translation 
 conveys fully the author's work ; one cannot enter into 
 the " presence chamber'' of another's mind, and there- 
 fore cannot give the real — at least, not the full — intention 
 of another's expression. A literal translation is never 
 perfect in the thought; and if one assumes to give its 
 spirit, then we gather too much of the translator's mind 
 and manner, instead of the author's. However, I have 
 to confess, that a translated book is better to me than 
 the original ; for I am compelled to appeal too often to 
 the dictionary, which distracts my attention, so necessary 
 to enjoy any book. ■ 
 
 I still think that, by and bye, you will see more clearly 
 the necessary preparation of education to civilize man, or 
 
299 
 
 even to adopt beneficially the Christian religion for man's 
 practical good — the humanizing of his spirit. The evi- 
 dence of this is spread over Christendom. If your posi- 
 tion, of its polishing and civilizing the barbarians, of 
 their progress in morals consequent upon taking the new 
 faith, be true, show me the examples, where education 
 has not interfered. So far as I know, where general edu- 
 cation has had no influence, the religion has been debased, 
 and has wrought little good among the people. Its good 
 is in its practical wisdom, more than in our mere belief 
 in its authority. To understand it, is better than simply 
 to have faith in it, 
 
 Face every danger, every trial, to the utmost ; look it 
 well in the face, and examine every feature ; it is astonish- 
 ing to all of us, to see how ugly parts diminish, how 
 dangerous appearances lessen, and how strong we are to 
 overcome every depressing fear. This examination is 
 just as necessary with our loving dependencies, our warm 
 trusts, and all things that appear to carry such smiling 
 faces^ Many of our " gorgeous palaces" are then found 
 "like the baseless fabric of a vision," — no /ood home 
 for habitation. 
 
 For the life of me, I cannot write to you as to a young 
 sensitive thing. You are certainly not a man ; but I talk 
 away as wildly to you, as much " en dishabille" as if you 
 were a boy-friend of mine. I have disembodied you at 
 all events, and hold intercourse only with your mind ; 
 and yet, somehow, I shouldn't like to think you — an ugly 
 old woman ! 
 
 Well, we won't quarrel about the Whigs. In my 
 estimation they reduced the national burden ; in your's, 
 they increased it. They took off a great many taxes — 
 only think, for us, of the Post Office. Only out of one 
 eye were you looking, when commending the income 
 tax as a great redemption. But I am glad you like it, 
 as it will become a fixture, and will change places with 
 the corn -laws. 
 
 No, indeed; Mr. O'Connell is no thorn to a true- 
 hearted Englishman ; so much, you see, depends upon 
 the ground from which we look at a thing. As to his 
 speech about the statues in the new Houses of Parlia- 
 ment, that is unworthy of him, because it leads to no- 
 
300 
 
 thing, unless to keep distinct their religious chain from 
 ours. But have we clean hands? Do we mob the Pope 
 and his Host — call them names very little short of sa 
 many devils ? do we so well separate the chaff from the 
 wheat ? 
 
 You must have obtained a knowledge of the low rent of 
 land in Ireland, very different from the public statements ; 
 for from them I learn, that the high rent of land there is 
 a great curse, the whole system of letting is a curse, and 
 the prices are cursedly obtained. " What is it they 
 want," say you ? Integration— oneness, and like liberty, 
 and their own religion. Make them like Scotland. 
 Why not? 
 
 O'Connell's claim of a local parliament is no anomaly^ 
 whether desirable or not. The American states have all 
 local parliaments, but still they are united as a people; 
 and he asks for the same thing. The man, however, has 
 told you ten thousand times that he resorts to this de- 
 mand in mere despair. " Give us equal laws, equal' 
 liberty, and equal chances in the government of the 
 united people, and we will be content." These are their 
 true wants ; and can you deny them safely and right- 
 eously ? This is the law of brotherhood and good faith ; 
 as it is, it is the law of the strong over the weak — a hate- 
 ful tyranny. 
 
 I join cordially with you in your commendation of 
 Father Matthew. One would think that our ministry,, 
 even if for no- better reason than selfishness, should see 
 the good he could do them, the advantage they might 
 gain by his aid, in humanizing the people. But here, 
 as if some d — d fatality were upon the connexion of the 
 two countries, they will give him nothing, even though 
 he has involved himself miserably, for their convenience 
 as much as for the benefit of the people of Ireland* 
 These ministers could not suffer the Maynooth grant to 
 be a simple good, a step in the right direction ; but 
 they must proclaim, open-mouthed, " it was a fire to 
 divide their ranks;" verily, they have their reward* 
 
CLV. 
 
 November 4, 1845. 1 
 When you read " Sartor Resartus," tell me what the 
 author intends to teach ; for, I confess, I only guess at 
 his intention. He exposes the folly of substituting ha- 
 bits — clothes, as he calls them — for principles; of being 
 guided so much by others' minds, by the fashion of others' 
 intelligence, instead of resting on our own judgment. 
 He exposes the effect, the unfair artificial power, it has 
 upon us — how much it prevents the natural man being 
 seen ; and, instead of producing individuality of charac- 
 ter, it produces a conglomerate existence, a mere mush, 
 making men of more nearly equal value, indeed, but of a 
 very low standard. 
 
 Yesterday I sent you a copy of my letter to Sir Robert 
 Peel on the National Debt. I posted it on Sunday 
 evening ; and this morning I have his answer, through 
 his secretary: — 
 
 " Sir, — I am desired by Sir Robert Peel to acknowledge the receipt 
 of your letter of the 1st instant, and to thank you for your intentions in 
 this communication of a plan ; in which, however, there is no novelty. 
 
 " W. H. Stephenson." 
 
 So that you see, just now, I cannot be of use to my 
 country ! But it does seem odd to me, that some such 
 plan has not been adopted — that the present plan of the 
 " sinking fund" has been preferred. I should like to 
 know wherefore ; and would ask, if I could persuade 
 myself I might fairly intrude upon the secretary's time. 
 I think, however, I'll send my plan to the '* Times" 
 and so offer myself to like neglect, or to a broadside of 
 ridicule. Why should it damage me? I want only to be 
 right, and don't mind some chastisement to obtain it. 
 
 Yesterday I bought Macculloch's new work, "Taxa- 
 tion and the Funding System." I should have deferred 
 my communication until after I had read this book. 
 This question, "Taxation and the Funding System," 
 how best they are managed, is the most important one 
 England has to deal with ; for we are, in every prime 
 sense of the word, a commercial people, and therefore 
 should know how commerce is affected by our commer- 
 cial, political, and municipal laws, 
 o 5 
 
302 
 
 I am glad you desire me to make no apology for the 
 offence of forgetting your sex while writing to you. Do 
 you remember what Madame de Stael said ? " She would 
 rather be adored as a beautiful creature than admired as 
 an intellectual woman." This somewhat alarms me ; 
 but yet I have the consolation of knowing you are a 
 beautiful woman ; I merely prefer your spirituality ! I 
 must learn to be genteel ; is this a decent beginning, or 
 can you see through it too distinctly ? 
 
 I saw a newly imported young Irishman yesterday 
 gloriously drunk. He could not keep his feet still ; they 
 would dance. His'young wife was with him, with a baby 
 in her arms. " Ah, now," said Paddy, " let me smoke 
 into his eye; it will bring him up to snuff." And the 
 good wife, to indulge him and to get him home, suffered 
 him to puff in the child's face. " Ah, honey, now," he 
 bawled out, " come along, but I'll show you a thing or 
 two along the streets ;" and away he went, dancing, and 
 flourishing his shilalagh. True Irish, thought I, back 
 and belly, blood and bone. 
 
 (In closure.) — Letter to Sir Robert Peel. 
 
 November 1, 1845. 
 Sir, — It will not appear singular to you, that another man is found 
 to address you on the subject of paying off the national debt. So I 
 venture to ask your attention to these ideas of mine. 
 
 If yon will purchase, with the balance of your present financial year — ■ 
 say, three millions, of the public funds, and keep it as a nest egg, and 
 purchase yearly other stock with the interest and its accumulations, it 
 will place, at the end of 200 years, the whole amount of the national debt 
 in the hands of the Government ; in other words, it will then free the 
 country from paying 28 millions of money yearly as interest, and spunge 
 out this dead weight upon the energies of the country. 
 
 We know that three millions, at 2>\ per cent, at compound interest, is 
 doubled in 25 years. Therefore 
 
 In 25 years, the purchases would amount to £6,000,000 
 
 In 50 £12,000,000 
 
 In 75 £24,000,000 
 
 In 100 £48,000,000 
 
 In 125 £96,000,000 
 
 In 150 £192,000,000 
 
 In 175 £384,000,000 
 
 In 200 £768,000,000 
 
303 
 
 I have put the calculation in round numbers for simplification ; and also 
 below the truth of the figures. 
 
 If you ask for the benefit of this plan, and complain of the time, I 
 refer you to the operation of your present sinking fund, and ask, how 
 that appears less like a yearty and continuing tax. If you say the cost 
 is great, I will ask you to prove what it will cost the country beyond the 
 three millions, that the country can escape paying without this plan. 
 The difference is, as regards the interest, whether we shall pay it for 200 
 years, or for all time. 
 
 It is said, that money fructifies best in the pockets of the people ; but 
 this plan does not take away from them annually a farthing they may 
 retain now, or hereafter. We are not a poor country, short of capital 
 for all purposes of fructification ; and besides, the very interest of this 
 operation, being bought in stock, goes at once into general circulation — 
 the seller of the stock takes the money. 
 
 I need not point out to you the ultimate advantage to England ; nor 
 indeed the moral power it would give us, during the operation, before 
 other nations. If the fact be possible as I have put it, it is not possible 
 to calculate accurately how much the country will benefit by it. I have 
 the honour to be, Sir, &c &c. 
 
 CLVI. 
 
 November 5, 1845. 
 Mr. Times, as you know, is a clever fellow ; and 
 though he has a warfare to cany on of a very mixed 
 kind, " both great and small" — has to fire at great men 
 and small circumstances, yet he does not seem very 
 particular in the choice of his weapons, but takes up 
 what may be handiest, whether too great for the occasion 
 or too little. Now see an instance : To-day he desires 
 to call O'Connell li a kicking beast," and just see what 
 tools he uses for fixing this sonorous stigma upon the 
 man. He brings up a condensed philosophic phalanx 
 enough to batter a host — makes a preparation important 
 enough to shove all Ireland into the sea. 
 
 " In order to master a system, it is always necessary to get at its 
 leading idea. Unless you are familiar with the air, you cannot enter 
 into the thousand beauties of the overture. Thus, expediency is the 
 leading idea of one moralist, authority of another, heroism of a third, 
 and progress of a fourth. The leading ideas of political parties are as 
 specific as they are numerous. Unity of thought and tone is essential 
 to interest, as well as to success ; so everybody, by a sort of specific 
 
304 
 
 instinct, takes care always to keep his point in view, and, in fact, to be 
 saying the same thing perpetually in an infinite number of disguises. In 
 order, then, to understand people, you must analyse them into their 
 simplest element. This done, you have a key to the whole man, and 
 everything that he says and does. You have discovered his character- 
 istic — that which most distinguishes him from the rest, of his species. It 
 is the prominent operation of his mind." 
 
 So here, now, is the acutest wisdom, the highest theory 
 of man's faculties, to exhibit — what ? that O'Connell is 
 chiefly a kicker ! 
 
 With the unenlightened, such a beating of the drum, 
 such a summoning of his choicest troops, will appear ex- 
 travagant and ridiculous. But what will the thoughtful 
 make out of it? Will they not apply his theory to the 
 real issue between O'Connell and our Government — be- 
 tween his object and our object— between the oppressor 
 and the oppressed ? and then look to see how his " mind's 
 characteristic" is fitted to remedy a great wrong — to rescue 
 his country from the foul domination of a low-purposed 
 tyranny? So applying " the key" now presented, what 
 sober man can say that " heroism " is not his great " idea," 
 it being the love of his people, and the desire of their pro- 
 gress as a country. This is the " air of the overture," 
 and the " key" therefore to its " thousand beauties." 
 The manner is mere matter of taste. 
 
 Not understanding this key, doubtless many jarring 
 bars strike dismally on the ear ; but what would the 
 same untutored intellect make out of the splendid and 
 wild power of Weber's " Freischutz ?" I have heard 
 many people call that " a most infernal row," and with 
 just as much reason. The man's "kicking" is only a 
 small part of his plan ; but it aids the general effect, like 
 discord in music. His " air" running throughout, " now 
 dimly seen, now bright and clear," is, equality of power 
 and privilege, one brotherhood, and no slaves. This is 
 prominent; for the rest, it is matter of taste and musical 
 necessity, to obtain public attention. That music that 
 may be proper for Germany may be quite unfit for Italy; 
 in like manner, the political action that may have enthu- 
 siastic influence upon Ireland, may be useless, and even 
 ridiculous — aye, appear even a savagery, to the even tenor 
 of our political habits. What then ? what does that 
 
305 
 
 prove ? That he should adopt our calm reasoning, our 
 logical demonstration, in his intercourse with the masses 
 of Ireland ? Why, is not French eloquence thought by us 
 an inflated affair ? and is not our's thought by them a 
 shopkeeping oratory ? Does it work well for its object ? 
 And looking backwards at what has been done, and how 
 done, can you complain of his policy, of his judgment, 
 as far as the work is concerned ? 
 
 Don't understand, however, that I like his taste, or 
 rather Ireland's taste. But this I like, that the man has 
 taken up a cause worthy a patriot, and has determined 
 to carry it through to the best of his power. I care very 
 little for parts — for this illustration, or for that ; however, 
 I never forget that he can handle other weapons, can sing 
 a syren's song when he will, and so charm an accom- 
 plished audience, if need be. To underrate him, to call 
 him names, because he deals against you with vulgar 
 weapons, is not only to lose your labour, but to exhibit 
 your gentility beaten, and to deprive yourselves of the 
 necessary energy to defeat him. Buonaparte was run 
 down for his breach of all the old rules of war, and the 
 consequences were, the total defeat of all his enemies! 
 
 But to call such a man a "kicking ass," — to say, his 
 prime object is only to abuse, to tell lies, and bully — to 
 call that " the key" to the man, — is not this a madness? 
 Does it persuade one Irishman of the fact ? Does it put 
 England into a better condition to contend with his 
 power? — is it not senseless, if it does not? He is a bully 
 with power, and we would become one without power — 
 voild la difference ! 
 
 CLVII. 
 
 November 8, 1845. '. 
 I have been endeavouring to write to The Times 
 about my precious plan, but have had great difficulty to 
 please myself. You know my natural modesty, and 
 therefore you can tell something, can understand some- 
 thing of my hesitation and fear; but then you know, that 
 great modesty wins nothing of the public, at least silence 
 does not. I have chosen to place the measure boldly 
 before " The Times," for they, as well as the public, are 
 
306 
 
 too busy to listen to humble pleading. Their answer is 
 like saying, If it be good for anything, let us hear its 
 merits at once. I inclose the copy for your criticism ; 
 tell me how I may improve it — in its arrangement, 
 tone, distinctness, and proof. I am too near to see it 
 well, and too prejudiced to know how it may appear to 
 others. 
 
 CLVITI. 
 
 November 9, 1845. 
 
 I am much pleased with your description of the neigh- 
 bourhood of Corfe Castle. When Mr. and I were 
 
 going through Wales in the autumn, he introduced me 
 to the poetry of the hills. How often he would pull up, 
 when we came upon a new prospect, and direct my atten- 
 tion to parts I should otherwise have passed over un- 
 seen, where "hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps 
 arise." In Radnorshire and Merionethshire the features 
 of-the country are all vast and picturesque. This pecu- 
 liar combination one seldom sees in our islands. Perhaps, 
 however, the idea of the picturesque would not present 
 itself to many persons ; the many would say, the view 
 was only wild and desolate. The grouping, the peculiar 
 combination of the hills, surprised us, and the effect of 
 light and shade was very singular; some were green, 
 some blue, some black, and some appeared white. Not 
 a tree, not an animal, not a bird even, was to be seen for 
 miles 3 only ourselves seemed living there, and to our 
 fancy we appeared alone upon the earth. 
 
 No nation will submit to task-masters, who can relieve 
 themselves from the domination. In Ireland, in America, 
 Englishmen conducted all affairs — they made the laws, 
 and enforced them. America asked for representative 
 government, and was refused. She asked for the admi- 
 nistration of her laws, and was refused. She asked to 
 be free from the imposition of taxes for the benefit of 
 England, and was refused. She asked for a federal go- 
 vernment, and we sent an army as our answer. Do 
 you still ask how we behaved badly to America, when 
 the Romans granted all these things to her colonies, ex- 
 cept indeed the paying of certain tribute ? It is a mistake 
 of your'sto say, that America desired a division from the 
 
307 
 
 beginning of her agitation. Washington, Franklin, and 
 other men, have strongly denied it. The Americans felt 
 they were no longer in leading-strings, that there was no 
 longer a necessity to treat them like an infant colony, and 
 naturally and properly, as I think, rebelled against the 
 domination of the mother-country. The same child of 
 Independence is growing in Canada, and, for the honour 
 of man, I cannot but rejoice in the increasing and sturdy 
 demand of her people. Ireland, however, is so placed, so 
 connected with us, that nothing but misery for both coun- 
 tries could result from her entire separation. But so much 
 the more reason is there to sympathise generously with 
 her, "to do as we would be done unto," if the circum- 
 stances were reversed. And can you, can any one, really 
 say that we should be satisfied in their position ? 
 
 I have just been to church, and have heard a good 
 sermon on the privileges and responsibilities of the head 
 of a family. He said, " A man is responsible for the good 
 conduct of his servants, so far as bad conduct arises 
 through his neglect." This is well put, and worth re- 
 membering. He added, " Religion is not a thing of 
 public prayers, nor even of private prayers, but a life- 
 governance, a universally acting spirit, of one common 
 purpose, equal in every moment of a man's life. It is 
 not confined to the man, but extends to and upon every 
 person he acts with or for ; it acts upon the servant's 
 labour, the tradesman's dealings, and goes into the spirit 
 of every command and every desire. It is not so much 
 a graceful principle, as a duty." This is fine practical 
 teaching. 
 
 I was much pleased with the following passage, 
 which I give to the best of my remembrance. It was 
 delivered in a subdued tone, peculiar to earnest regret 
 and grief: — 
 
 " I cannot think of any one punishment greater for a man, than, at 
 the day of judgment, when both master and servant shall be turned ^to 
 the " left hand," going away to their doom,— if the servant should say to 
 the master, f For twenty years I was your servant — under your care, 
 your control, — and never one word did you utter to direct me aright, or 
 to place me in the way of God's influence — no, you never cared for my 
 soul. You used me as a slave, you directed me as a task-master ; I 
 was made to increase your gains, to minister to your pleasures ; I was 
 
308 
 
 your machine, your instrument ; but to you I was never as a man ; as 
 a fellow-being I met no sympathy from you. But now. you would be 
 glad of my sympathy, of my fellowship, though, alas ! it is put off until 
 we are both among the accursed for everlasting.' " 
 
 How can you say that I pretend to know woman? I 
 don't know her, nor does any other man ; nor woman 
 her sex, nor even herself. She acts too much from the 
 moment, by feeling 1 , by passion, — and not from a oneness 
 of character, under a staid nature. Man is too much 
 her guide; he acts upon her as easily for error as for 
 truth — for evil as for good. Oh! don't wince; lam 
 speaking of the species, and not of you ! I do not com- 
 plain of the sincerity of Lady Montague, but of her 
 coldness, of her want of knowledge of what she owed a hus- 
 band ; — it should be entire amalgamation. The woman's 
 answer of " Lo ! I come," does not admit the idea of a 
 sacrifice — of giving up the world and its admiration. 
 She (Lady Montague) was weighing these things in one 
 scale, and the husband in the other. Such an affair would 
 disgust any man who means to make a wife a part of his 
 being — his solace, his prudence — his bosom-friend. 
 Just contrast the manner of Margaret in " Deerbrook ;" 
 how few words were used, and yet they convey love's 
 complete repose and trust — that a new centre had arisen 
 for her nature to hover round. 
 
 As for your indignant denunciation of pounds, shil- 
 lings, and pence, — in that I quite agree with yon, when 
 it is a prime moving power. I think it would be a good 
 social alteration, that every woman should go penniless 
 to her husband, take herself alone. Then goodness 
 would be cultivated as the attraction, and the chances 
 would be divided fairly among the female world. Men 
 have three qualities to choose from, — goodness, beauty, 
 and riches. If the latter were struck out, the two former 
 would improve rapidly, by the natural process of man's 
 choice. Riches seem, with the many, all-sufficient ; 
 beauty, not quite sufficient; but goodness is completely 
 insufficient for their choice. A perfect wife, after all, 
 is one good and beautiful. Now, in fairness, tell me 
 what a perfect husband is; and also, what women 
 choose from, generally. 
 
309 
 CLIX. 
 
 November IS, 1845. ' 
 1 have just finished the first volume of Landor's 
 " Imaginary Conversations," in which there are many 
 striking thoughts, and much bad taste, I cannot help 
 thinking. He is amazingly confident of his own powers, 
 and indignant beyond measure at the public neglect. 
 Almost at the very beginning, he says — 
 
 " There fiever was a period when public spirit was so feeble in England, 
 
 or political abilities so rare I have admitted in my work a few 
 
 little men, such as emperors and ministers, of modern cut, to show better 
 the just proportions of the great, — as a painter would station a beggar 
 under a tfiumphal arch, or a camel against a pyramid." 
 
 What think you of this claim on public attention t — 
 
 " Should health and peace of mind remain to me, and the enjoyment 
 of a country, where, if there is none to assist, at least there is none to 
 molest me, I hope to leave behind me completed the great object of my 
 studies, an orderly and solid work on history ; and cherish the persuasion 1 , 
 that posterity will not confound me with the Coxes and the Foxes of 
 the age." 
 
 What think you of this bitter satire put into the mouth 
 of Richard I. when going to the crusades ? — 
 
 " O, Abbot, in sailing along the beautiful shores of the Mediterranean, 
 I see the solitary majesty of Crete, mother of a religion, it is said, that 
 lived 2000 years. Onward, and many bright specks bubble up along the 
 blue Egean — islands,'every one of which, if the songs and stories of the 
 pilots be true, is the monument of a greater man than I am. I leave 
 them, and for whom ? to join creatures of less import than the sea-mews 
 on their cliffs— men praying to be heard, and fearing to be understood — 
 ambitious of another's power, in the midst of penitence — avaricious of 
 another's wealth, under vows of poverty — and jealous of another's glory, 
 in the service of their God. Is this Christianity ?— and is Saladin to be 
 damned if he despises it ?" 
 
 The best " Conversation" is between the Lord Brooke 
 and Sir Philip Sydney. The following are striking 
 sentences : — » 
 
 " Goodness does not more certainly make men happy, than happiness 
 makes them good. We must distinguish between felicity and prosperity; 
 for prosperity leads often to ambition, and ambition to disapointraent ; 
 
310 
 
 while the reaction of goodness and happiness is perpetual Piety, 
 
 warm, soft, and passive as the ether round the throne of Grace, is made 
 callous and inactive by kneeling too much ; her vitality faints under 
 rigorous and wearisome observances." 
 
 '* Desire of lucre arises here (among his peasantry) from the necessity 
 of looking to small gains ; it is, however, but the tartar that incrusts 
 economy." 
 
 " We labour to get through the moments of our life, as we would to 
 get through a crowd. Such is our impatience in everything but the 
 emendation of our practices and the adornment of our nature, one 
 would imagine we were dragging Time along by force, and not he us." 
 
 Of man's great objects, or rather of his pursuit of 
 great objects, he says — 
 
 " When we have fixed, as we imagine, on the object most desirable, 
 we start extravagantly ; and, blinded by the rapidity of our precipitate 
 course toward the treasure we would seize and dwell with, we ,find 
 another hand upon the lock— the hand of one standing in the shade, — 
 'tis Death !" 
 
 " God hath granted unto both of us hearts easily contented, hearts 
 fitted for every station, because fitted for every duty." 
 
 What think you of this political creed ? — 
 
 " The aggrandisement of our neighbour is nought of detriment to us ; 
 on the contrary, if we are honest and industrious, his wealth is ours. 
 We have nothing to dread, while our laws are equitable, and our impo- 
 sitions light." 
 
 This, also, is worth knowing : — 
 
 " He who has very much of his own, always has a project in readiness 
 for somewhat of another's : he who has little, has not even the ground 
 on which to lay it. Thus one sharp angle of wickedness and disquietude 
 is broken off from him." 
 
 " As one drop of water hath an attraction for another, so do felicities 
 run into felicities : and I wish that misfortunes bore no resemblance to 
 this in their march and tendency ; but these also swarm and cluster and 
 hang one upon another." 
 
 " Great men lose somewhat of their greatness by being near us ; 
 ordinary men gain much." 
 
 " How many arguments is it worth to your adversary, if you appear 
 to act from another motive than principle !" 
 
 I was much amused by the following very lively pas- 
 sage between James I. and Isaac Causabon : — 
 
311 
 
 " Our bishops" (says the King) " sit in the House of Peers, to give 
 them counsel on such discipline as may be propounded by the clergy. 
 If any one of mine, in his pruriency, should cast his wild eye askance, 
 and ruffle his mane, and neigh and snort to overleap this boundary, I 
 would thrust the Bible into his mouth forthwith, and thereby curb his 
 extravagance. For, Mr. Isaac, we do possess this advantage : our 
 bishops acknowledge in spirituals the sole authority of that sacred book ; 
 whereas your Papist, when you push him, slinks off from it as he lists, 
 and has recourse to Doctors and traditions, which is anywhere and no- 
 where. If you follow him up into this whispering-gallery, and press him 
 close, he flies at your throat, and swears, by God's help, he will throttle 
 you," 
 
 I have read through, very carefully, M'Culloch's 
 " Taxation and the Funding System ;" and though he 
 quizzes all quackery of paying off the National Debt, 
 and exposes to ridicule and biting sarcasm every plan 
 hitherto proposed or adopted, still I cannot help believ- 
 ing it would be very difficult to confute the soundness of 
 the one I advocate. He says, as his summary, or 
 finale — 
 
 " To borrow money to pay money, is an absurdity ; and to pay off 
 the debt by borrowing of the people, is an absurdity." 
 
 So it is, doubtless ; but to pay off the debt by making 
 the people contribute the funds, is no absurdity — no 
 greater than it would be to clear an insolvent estate by 
 setting aside a part of the rents. The great question is, 
 the consequence of such a debt — what is the best man- 
 ner of mitigating its increasing peril? We have been 
 so long accustomed to this hideous incubus, as to think 
 its dead weight a fine balance against the too energetic 
 increase of wealth — a sort of social sponge, that holds 
 conveniently the accumulations of the people's industry. 
 
 CLX. 
 
 November 15, 1845. 
 Your friend's opinion of Carlyle, I could show you in 
 the Edinburgh Review. Carlyle does not profess to set 
 up another system; rather, indeed, he dislikes all mere 
 systems, where mental mechanism has so much more 
 power than principle. He prefers simple worth, a true 
 
312 
 
 heart, and a stedfast faith in right and duty, to any 
 amount of doctrinal belief. Let a man adopt the prin- 
 ciple of holiness, and infuse it into his being ; to such 
 a man, what are your systems, your observances, your 
 creeds, and sects? To those who are disturbed by 
 doubts, he says, " All doubt is cured by action ! " — 
 do what you find to do, and your fears shall fly away. 
 Belief is to action as the blossom is to fruit — they are 
 as essential to one another. Faith that produces no la- 
 bour of love, is worth no more than the blossom that bears 
 no fruit. You will misunderstand Carlyle, if you think 
 action means merely the mechanism of the hands and 
 feet. We can only be happy as we can assimilate with 
 justice, love, truth, and greatness. 
 
 How do you like the following extract : — 
 
 " How vast the region, where Thy will, 
 Existence, Form, and Order gives ; 
 Pleased the wide cup with joy to fill, 
 For all that feels, and breathes, and lives ! 
 
 Lord ! while we praise Thee, let us learn 
 
 Beneficence to all below ; 
 Those praise Thee best, whose bosoms burn 
 
 To spread the gifts from Thee that flow. 
 
 Happy the man who dares be just, 
 Stedfast when duty says, " Thou must ;" 
 
 Though interest tempt him to the deed, 
 Though the seducing passions plead. 
 
 The Lord is just : He made the chain 
 
 Which binds together guilt and pain : 
 The Lord is just : he loves to shed 
 
 His blessings where the virtues tread." 
 
 This is an extract from William Taylor's Hymns — the 
 Unitarian William Taylor, of Norwich. 
 
 How do you like the following extract from one of his 
 letters to a friend in Paris for the first time ? — 
 
 " Go at once and climb the turrets of Notre Dame. Man ! what 
 a panorama! Look here! — I like these masses of stone, which mind has 
 moved, which the arranging hand of man has piled into dwellings, 
 
313 
 
 arched into temples, laid out into streets — where centre the roads of a 
 thousand miles, the produce of millions of acres, the picked intellect 
 of a hundred departments, the best works of human art, in literature, 
 picture, architecture, sculpture. — the brain of France, the wonder of 
 Europe, the result, of ages. Such are the ideas that crowd on the mind 
 at the view of great cities : and the grand events of which they have 
 been the nest and the seat, and the imperial authority which they 
 exercise over distant men and distant ages as to opinions, laws, and 
 institutions, — all these thoughts become associated with the walls and 
 gates and bridges, with the pinnacles and spires, which cluster in grey 
 profusion about and underneath." 
 
 CLXI. 
 
 November 29, 1845.. 
 In William Taylor's Life, which I am now reading, 
 there is a long correspondence given between Southey 
 and him. They were very intimate many years ; even 
 after Southey became so sturdy a Tory and high-church- 
 man. I cannot say, the letters possess much interest for 
 the general reader ; indeed, I am much surprised to see 
 that they discuss no great principles : their letters are 
 made up chiefly of domestic chat, and questions of words. 
 I send you two or three extracts of the best kind. I 
 think the following worthy examination : — 
 
 " Rome, which has been the most stable of all nations, always 
 depended on foreign supplies of food. Sicily, Egypt, Lombardy, Flan- 
 ders, have been remarkably agricultural, and have passed quickly away. 
 The agriculture of Spain was once carried to great perfection. France 
 is but beginning to be agricultural ; yet it may be safely prophecied, that 
 as her manufactures decline, the market for produce becoming less, her 
 poor lands will again be suffered to wilder into sheep-walks, whenever 
 they require troublesome or costly cultivation. Husbandry cannot 
 dispose of any surplus produce until industry has first built her cities of 
 commerce and manufactures. Ireland is an insu.^ ) of the want of 
 ready sale for agriculture." 
 
 This was written about the year 1800. 
 
 The following is the best apology I have seen for our 
 school teaching, our classical literature : — 
 
 " Our delight in Shakspeare and Milton connects us by sympathy 
 with our countrymen ; our predilection for Homer [and Virgil, with the 
 educated public of theJIworld. It is of great importance to the facili- 
 
314 
 
 tation of human intercourse, to the consentaneity of general opinion, and 
 to the constriction of intellectual attachments, that a few writers should 
 by universal agreement be universally read : they form a common stock 
 of information to the whole refined public. There is thus a great road 
 to the hearts and breasts of the excellent everywhere, which elevates 
 the citizen into the patriot, and expands the patriot into the cosmopolite. 
 It is useful therefore, as well as pleasing, to recall frequently to the 
 general attention the literary heroes of Rome and Greece — those ever- 
 burning lamps of the temple of humanized society." 
 
 In speaking of the Scripture history, he says — 
 
 " The account of the creation, of the deluge, and of the building of 
 the Tower of Babel, appear to be Babylonian documents, first obtained 
 during the Captivity : but the history of Abraham seems to be an 
 original account, contemporary with the patriarch, which had been 
 preserved by his descendants in the land of Goshen, and brought from 
 Egypt by Moses. Many documents contemporary with Moses ap- 
 pear to be transcribed with entire fidelity, especially those inserted 
 in the book of Numbers. In the Exodus there are symptoms of epic 
 embellishments ; and there are directions for the priesthood, which 
 cannot have originated in the wilderness, but imply a long-established 
 worship, and a curious progress in the arts of manufacture. In the 
 Leviticus, again, there is a great deal of legislation which must have 
 been subsequent to the conquest of Canaan. These circumstances do 
 not invalidate, they corroborate, the historical importance of the Jewish 
 Scriptures, and encourage the antiquary to lean on them with confidence 
 as satisfactory testimonies of fact. The earliest sketch of the distribution 
 of the primeval nations is that contained in the tenth chapter of Genesis. 
 It is geography in the form of genealogy, as Bochart, Schlotzer, and 
 Michaelis have observed ; as if we were to say, London is the son of 
 Middlesex, the son of England ; or as Ferishte does say, Dekka is the 
 son of Hind, the son of Asia." 
 
 " Languages are confluent, not diffluent. The doctrine of an original 
 language is opposed by the observations of all who have travelled among 
 savage nations, and is contradicted by the universal analogy of ex- 
 perience." 
 
 In speaking of the advantages of commerce, as con- 
 trasted with the effects of war, he says — 
 
 " To public industry, public opinion assigns an inferior rank and a 
 secondary value ; yet, where are we to seek the chosen nests of human 
 happiness and culture, but in the cities of the industrious and the 
 commercial ? . . . . Commercial men can afford to make early and 
 disinterested marriages. What is the consequence ?— that the most 
 
31-5 
 
 accomplished and meritorious women in the country are every where 
 the wives of merchants— the women who are selected not for their 
 property, but for their properties. The domestic habits and interior 
 elegance which result, are obvious. Whoever compares them must be 
 struck with the superior character of our merchants' wives. And these 
 are the mothers of our Israel." 
 
 The following passage is liberal to the church of old, 
 and good deduction also. In speaking of the ascend- 
 ancy of the church in barbarous times, when rude 
 kings were constantly at war, and constantly changing, 
 he says — 
 
 " The quiet multitude wisely sought for the fixed shelter of the' 
 Church. Priestly power, at that era, was more subservient to peace, to 
 judicial equity, to the definition of property, to domesticity, to plenty, 
 and to public amusement, than the eternal feuds and wars of the 
 Barons and the Kings. It is probable, that no force feebler than 
 superstition could have given any laws to the barbarous invaders. The 
 tacit consent of the wise went with the progress of ecclesiastical 
 authority. Not the virtues of the Popes, not the confidence of those 
 instructed in the domineering persuasion, were the causes of that power, 
 but its real and felt expediency, then and there .... The influence of 
 the clergy may be incompatible with the higher degree of civilization, 
 it is certainly favourable to the lower ; and it will be found to have 
 been progressive in Europe only while it was wanted to keep alive the 
 very elements of literature and justice." 
 
 The Editor of the Life says of this man — 
 
 " The freedom with which William Taylor investigated the Scriptures 
 has incurred the imputation of impiety and profaneness from many who 
 possess neither the knowledge of those venerable writings which he 
 studiously cultivated, nor the respect for them which he sincerely 
 cherished. It is true, that he regarded them as human productions ; 
 his conceptions of the Supreme Spirit was too elevated, too reverent, to 
 allow him to think otherwise ; and he therefore considered them as 
 liable, not only to the errors and imperfections from which no work of 
 man was ever exempt, but also to the additional obscurity in which 
 their high antiquity and transmission by manuscript through long 
 centuries of barbarism could not fail to involve them. But he did not 
 on that account ridicule their histories, or sneer at their injunctions ; his 
 philosophy saw truth in every thing— often indeed disfigured or con- 
 cealed — and endeavoured to hunt it out, fearless of the difficulties and 
 dangers that beset the way. Every religion had its commencement in an 
 age of ignorance, when the fiercest passions and most brutal sensuality 
 were to be overawed and subdued. It was well therefore, nay, it was 
 
316 
 
 absolutely necessary, that every priesthood should invest their oracles 
 with a divine character, by ascribing to them a superhuman origin. 
 But to exact on this point the same submissive credulity now from the 
 unlettered, is an error, which, if persevered in, must prove more and 
 more injurious to religion in proportion as education advances and 
 knowledge is diffused ; it cannot consist with those exalted views of 
 divine perfection which enlightened piety rejoices to contemplate." 
 
 CLXII. 
 
 November 29, 1845. 
 Taylor says — 
 
 " The real Aladdin's lamp is that on the merchant's desk. All the 
 genii — white, olive, or black — who people the Earth, it puts in motion, 
 even at the antipodes. It builds palaces in the wilderness, and cities in 
 the forest ; and collects every splendour, and every refinement of luxury, 
 from the fingers of subservient toil. Kings of the East are slaves to the 
 lamp ; the winds blow, and the sea rolls, only to work the behest of its 
 owner .... The chief causes of prosperity among the numerous classes 
 of Great Britain is that spirit of emigration, which, happily, is a natural 
 affection. There is no country in which so large a portion of her 
 people have travelled ; none in which so many are constantly employed 
 in migratory operations ; none in which the tombs of the natives are so 
 distant from their cradles. Discontent with every situation which can 
 be bettered, is the meritorious profession of all ranks : a lubber, a sta} r - 
 at-home, is with us a term of reproach. He who expatriates himself 
 confers a benefit on his remaining fellow-citizens. His industry, 
 wherever it is employed, will be exchanged for some of the productions 
 of his mother country. Where the Roman conquers, he inhabits, says 
 Seneca. Where the Briton inhabits, he conquers ; and that is a purer 
 praise. He plants there the industry that will fertilize the soil, and the 
 laws that will civilize the people. His invasions are made with the 
 pruning-hook and the plough ; his levies and contributions are an 
 interchange that enriches: — the corn springs along his path, the city 
 climbs beside his resting-place." 
 
 These are sentiments worthy all honour, more humaniz- 
 ing than any propagated by Mother Church, because 
 man can see the benefit to himself, and is made sensible 
 of the good he is doing the family of man. 
 
 The following is a good summary of our three chief 
 historians — of their merits as writers and teachers: — 
 
 " Gibbon is the greatest of our historians for learning and research ; 
 for judgment and sagacity in the conciliation of testimony, and in the 
 
317 
 
 appreciation of character ; for force of thought and stateliness of diction 
 he is alike admirable. The fault of his matter is the disproportion of its 
 iparts ; of his style, to narrate in abstractions. The second rank must be 
 •conceded to Hume. Of Robertson's high merit we are amply convinced. 
 His best history, however, is Charles V. Where can you find a single 
 striking maxim in the writings of Robertson ? He is deficient in thought- 
 fulness. Hume also wants research : but Hume displays the thinker, 
 ^exercises the philosopher, and instructs the statesman." 
 
 I think the following view of education masterly and 
 complete : — 
 
 " Nothing is so important as education. It diffuses virtue ; It is the 
 anchor of personal happiness. It involves the destiny of all civilized 
 classes ; it is the providence which prepares the fortunes of the coming 
 age. The only amelioration of whieh human society is susceptible, 
 consists in the perpetually increasing proportion of the well-educated. 
 Our only advantage over the ancients must depend on the greater extant 
 number of men analogously instructed, which facilitates the diffusion of 
 public advantages." 
 
 What think you of this fine portrait of Milton ? — 
 
 J * The national culture of Britain was founded by the Reformation. 
 Protestantism was an appeal to the people, and was compelled to use the 
 language of the multitude. All our popular classics are subsequent to 
 the ecclesiastical revolution. Shakspeare is the earliest poet, Lord 
 Bacon the earliest prose writer, who is a student's manual in England. 
 Third in the order of time and popularity, among our elder classes of lofty 
 name, may be classed Milton. No preceding poet but Shakspeare, no pre- 
 ceding prosaist but Bacon, is acknowledged to have surpassed him, in 
 matter or in manner. For native force, Milton is the inferior of these two 
 men ; he has combined their forms of excellence indeed, but he has 
 not all the genius of Shakspeare, nor all the intellect of Bacon. For 
 acquired accomplishments he is their superior: he was better read 
 than either, and displays more ancient learning than Shakspeare, and 
 more fine literature than Bacon. The flowers he has to strew are 
 numerous, beautiful, and rare ; but they are not home-grown — they were 
 gathered far and near, one by one, with toil and choice. Both in his 
 poetry and his prose, Milton is the artist, the rhetorician, the compiler : 
 like the garden fountain, he pours through marble urns a shining and a 
 copious stream ; but the supply is oftener from the cistern than from the 
 spring." 
 
 "A strong sense of justice, a daring pursuit of study, a love of the fair 
 and good, the high consciousness how greater far than rank or wealth 
 are the gifts of genius and virtue,— such are the lofty sentiments he is 
 
 P 
 
318 
 
 able and worthy to inculcate. One rises from his book dilated as it 
 were, and purified ; may it long form the manual of our youth, and the 
 canon of the patriot." 
 
 This, I think, is fine writing, and beautiful portraits, too, 
 of three great men; to me it is like a picture, they 
 group and yet contrast so admirably. I confess, how- 
 ever, I do not agree with his opinion of the " Paradise 
 Lost." He says — 
 
 " It is rather eloquent than picturesque ; it excels in expression, not 
 in imagery ; and is then finest when it approaches nearest to oratory. 
 Nor is the design of the fable fortunate in its knot and solution, or 
 progressive in its interest and splendour." 
 
 I have thought exactly the reverse of this judgment, 
 except the last sentence; I do think its grandeur lies in 
 the beginning. 
 
 I think his judgment admirable on the best manner 
 of governing Ireland: — 
 
 " Whatever faults the Catholics may retain, these faults are only 
 curable by a diminished segregation ; it is exactly by huddling them 
 into camps, parliaments, magistracies, and colleges, along with their 
 fellow-Gitizens, that their body-spirit and their educational prejudices can 
 be best and quickest gnawn into. As long as you give a common topic 
 of complaint peculiar to the sect, so long will the sect preserve its 
 cohesion, its animation, its self-will, its spirit of encroachment." 
 
 There is a great deal more in the following passage 
 than meets the eye : — 
 
 a All the knowledge which comes to us from words makes a feebler 
 impression than that which comes to us from visible objects ; we are 
 always glad to have some visible token, some sensible nucleus of 
 association with which to connect important clusters of ideas. The 
 worship of relics is a taste of this kind; and so is, I think, the veneration 
 of ruins. They call back and concentre on one token long trains of 
 thought." 
 
 The Catholics have always made good use of this senti- 
 ment. 
 
 What think you of Charles Butler's postulate: — 
 
 " The Unitarians are an increasing sect, and will, I think, swallow 
 up every other denomination of Protestantism ; they have already 
 made great havoc among them : they are not to be computed by their 
 separate congregations." 
 
319 
 
 That he should not have seen how much more likely 
 they are to catch educated Catholics in their web, seems 
 somewhat astonishing to me. 
 
 CLXIIT. 
 
 November 30, 1845. 
 At the close of " Taylor's Life/' the Editor complains 
 of a review of Taylor's " Historic Survey of German 
 Literature." I have just read this critique in the Edin- 
 burgh Review ; and, though it is severe, I cannot help 
 thinking there is a measure of justice in it. The work is 
 confessedly made up of a selection from his papers to the 
 Monthly Review, to which he was a large contributor. 
 I recommend the article, in the Number for March, 1831 ; 
 it is written by Carlyle, who is at the head of our critics 
 on German literature. Two or three passages I cannot 
 help sending you — they are so peculiarly graphic, so ex- 
 pressive of the man's mode of thinking. 
 
 " Such is Mr. Taylor ; a strong-hearted oak, but in an unkindly soil, 
 and beat upon from infancy by Trinitarian and Tory south-westers. Such 
 is the result which native vigour, wind-storms, and thirsty mould, have 
 made out among them ; grim boughs dishevelled in multangular com- 
 plexity, and of the stiffness of brass ; a tree crooked every way, 
 unwedgeable, and gnarled. What bandages or cordages of our's, or of 
 man's, could straighten it, now that it has grown there for half a century? 
 We simply point out that there is excellent tough knee-timber in it, and 
 of straight timber little or none." 
 
 After complaining, in another passage, of Taylor's 
 want of discrimination in poetry, of his too great love 
 of stimulating poetry, and of his strong appetite for 
 strange prose, he says — 
 
 " Such is the table which Mr. Taylor has spread for pilgrims in the 
 prose wilderness of life. Thus does he sit like a kind host, ready to carve; 
 and though the viands and beverage are but, as it were, stewed garlic, 
 Yarmouth herrings, and blue- ruin, praises them as stimulant, and cour- 
 teously presses the universe to fall to." 
 
 These passages are severe and witty, perhaps a little in 
 excess, but still apparently reasonable— so much depends 
 on taste. 
 
 p 2 
 
I 
 
 320 
 
 At the close of the review, he adds — 
 
 " We have spoken free! y ; we have answered freely. Far as we differ 
 from him in regard to German literature, deeply as we feel convinced 
 that his convictions are wrong and dangerous, that they are but half true, 
 and, if taken for the whole truth, wholly false and fatal, we have nowise 
 blinded ourselves to his vigorous talent, to his varied learning, his since- 
 rity, his manifest independence and self-support. Neither is it for speaking 
 out plainly that we blame him. A man's honest, earnest opinion, is the 
 most precious of all he possesses ; let him communicate that, if he is to 
 communicate anything. That reserve and knowing silence, long so 
 universal among us, is less the fruit of native benevolence, of philosophic 
 tolerance, than of indifference and weak conviction. Honest scepticism, 
 honest atheism, is better than that withered lifeless dilettantism and 
 amateur eclecticism, which merely toys with all opinions ; or than that 
 wicked Machiavelism, which in thought denjnng everything, except 
 that power is power, in words, for its own purposes, loudly believes 
 everything." 
 
 But how do you read this passage ? — 
 
 " Late in man's life, yet clearly at length, it becomes manifest to the 
 dullest, that mind is stronger than matter, that mind is the creator and 
 shaper of matter ; that not brute force, but only persuasion and faith is 
 the king of this world. . . . The true autocrat and pope is that man, the 
 real or seeming wisest of the past age, crowned after death, who finds his 
 hierarchy of gifted authors, his clergy of assiduous journalists ; whose 
 decretals, written not on parchment, but on the living souls of men, it 
 were an inversion of the laws of nature to disobey. In these times of 
 our's, all intellect has fused itself into literature : literature, ' printed 
 thought,' the molten sea and wonder-working chaos, into which mind 
 after mind casts forth its opinion, its feelings, to be molten into the 
 general mass, and to work there; higher, higher it rises round all the 
 edifices of existence. Woe to him whose edifice is not built on the true 
 basis, for the power or powers exist not on earth, that can say to that 
 sea, Roll back, or bid its proud waves be still." 
 
 Here is the key to the moving spirit of the world — to 
 man's determination to do and to think for himself; and 
 here is exhibited the utter folly of stopping the progress 
 of the species, and here also is exhibited the wisdom of 
 learning to guide it usefully. 
 
321 
 
 CLXIV. 
 
 December 2, 184S, 
 I have been reading again the " Imaginary Conversa- 
 tions," and hope the two or three extracts herein may- 
 please you. The following I like much : — 
 
 " My thoughts are my company. I can bring them together, select 
 them, detain them, dismiss them. Imbecile men cannot do any of these 
 things. Their thoughts are scattered, uncertain, cumbersome ; and the 
 worst stick to tl;em the longest ; many indeed by choice, part by neces- 
 sity, and the others by vain remorse."J 
 
 Of the powerful man he says — 
 " He is one who can control the storms of his mind, and turn to good 
 account the worst accidents of his fortune. A great man must be able 
 to do this, and have the intellect which puts into motion the intellect 
 of others." 
 
 This I think happy : — 
 
 V Humanity is the great idea whereon all government is founded : 
 whatever is beside it, is usurpation." * 
 
 When pressed hard on God's law, as defined by our 
 Church, he said — 
 
 " I meddle not with infinity or eternity. When I can comprehend them, 
 I will talk about them. Your metaphysicians kill the flower-bearing 
 and fruit-bearing glebe with delving, and turning over, and sifting ; and 
 never bring up any solid and malleable mass from the dark profundity 
 in which they labour. The intellectual world, like the physical, is inap- 
 plicable to profit, and incapable of cultivation, a little way beyond the 
 surface,— of which indeed there is more to know, than you will undertake 
 to manage." 
 
 In a "Conversation" between Penn and Lord Peter- 
 borough, in which the latter complains that all things 
 are of short continuance and hardly worth pursuit — even 
 Christianity, even purity — Penn answers — 
 
 " Thou speakest untruly. Of long continuance have been folly and 
 wickedness : shall wisdom then and righteousness be transitory or 
 illusive ? Is that which is inconsistent and wrong of a nature more 
 stable than that which is consistent and right ? Is there singleness in 
 falsehood \ is there duplicity in truth ? Why then shall corruption stand, 
 
322 
 
 and incorruption sink ? or why shall the good bend voluntarily to drink 
 from the cup of the damned the last and bitterest of its dregs, despair I" 
 
 I think this well put and forcible, and new also. 
 
 Of good policy, Penn says — 
 
 " One would think it requireth little exhortation to warn men against 
 the two mischiefs thou hast pointed out : whereupon I would ask the 
 grossest fool and sensualist, whether he does not eat a heartier dinner, 
 and digest it better, by keeping in good humour ; and the most dishonest 
 rogue that ever touched a fleece, whether he gaineth not more by being 
 trusted than by being distrusted, and whether he has not a better chance 
 of being trusted for honesty than for dishonesty ? Teaclj men to calcu- 
 late rightly, and thou wilt have taught them to live religiously 
 
 Industry has never failed while she has kept both eyes on one object,, 
 nor until she has risen from her business and gone into partnership with 
 Speculation*" 
 
 CLXV. 
 
 December 7, 1845. 
 I am now reading the "Autobiography of Sir Egerton 
 Brydges ;" a curious book, full of gossip, in which, 
 though there is abundant twaddle, there are many things 
 worth hearing, and worth thinking upon. He was a sin- 
 gular character, in whom it is difficult to see which pre- 
 ponderated — his generous good sense, or mawkish sensi- 
 bility. He had an original mind, good imaginative powers, 
 but still he had no one object, no great purpose before 
 him ; he was waiting to be directed, and was never em- 
 ployed according to his ambition. He felt himself fit for 
 any large design, and yet never began any labour that 
 could put him in the road to it. His case is not a sin- 
 gular one; but ites singular, to see how all these people 
 bitterly complain of their not being found out, before 
 they will give evidence of their fitness for useful employ- 
 ment. He says — 
 
 " I was of a grave, shy, and recluse character ; it was long before I 
 made acquaintance with any one. Every one thinks me cold, and deems 
 me repulsive, while I consider myself repelled. I was doomed at once 
 to suffer from coldness of appearance, and imprudent warmth of actual 
 feeling." 
 
 This is the key to the man's failure in life. 
 
323 
 
 Again he says — 
 
 " They who have a real conceit of themselves are calm and self* 
 possessed, they are neither irritable nor over- punctilious." 
 
 He could see this, and yet acted under the same real 
 conceit of himself, and in the most irritable and punc- 
 tilious manner. He knew that " In youth we expect too 
 much, and are therefore exposed to daily disappoint* 
 ments and mortifications." He knew also, " When we 
 are older, and have brought down our wishes to our ex- 
 perience, then we become calm, and begin to enjoy our- 
 selves. " He knew these things, and yet turned into the 
 paths that always gave him trouble, and was unhappy in 
 every stage of his life. He says again, as if determined 
 to convict himself, to show the world that he never de- 
 served success, though always morbidly craving for it, 
 " Almost all success, both in public and in private life, 
 depends not on talents and virtue, but on management 5 
 and perhaps the most important rule of all for this pur- 
 pose is perseverance. He must rely on himself; for, 
 as Gibbon observes, ' He who trusts to the advice of 
 others is sure to be misled/ " He knew this necessity of 
 perseverance, and yet was too idle, or too proud, to do any 
 one thing for his interests before the world. Even his 
 own estate he suffered to become involved, because he 
 would keep no check, nor ever see an account of his 
 steward's. And then, like a sentimental boy, he says, 
 " Unfortunately, in all my ambition, I always found 
 cold water thrown ; and I had a morbid timidity, which 
 submitted to such chills." Wherefore then complain, 
 if he would not struggle as other men struggle to serve 
 their ambition ? 
 
 But it is painful to read this confession : — 
 
 " I am now seventy years old, neglected, traduced, misrepresented ; 
 but I feel it necessary to say something in my own defence. I have 
 worked hard without reward : I have not indeed worked in the track I 
 would have done if I had received more cheers. I have done the work 
 of an antiquary, a bibliographer, when I might have done better things. 
 If the want of worldly success is the proof of want of talent, I stand 
 truly low in intellect ; the meanest have distanced me with ease. I 
 deeply grieve at the loss of time and opportunity, at the waste of 
 energies, and at the'[loop-holes afforded for the poisoned arrows of fools ! 
 
324 
 
 But perhaps it was this beloved and dangerous poetry that in 
 
 part seduced me : and Cowley might have spoken truly when he said 
 with such inimitable beauty — 
 
 * Where once such fairies dance, no grass doth ever grow.' " 
 
 He was of an ancient family, and proud beyond com- 
 mon measure of his birth ; and yet he continually 
 preaches, that intellect, mind, is all in all, and alone 
 worthy of worship ; though every one of humble birth 
 is a mere upstart who took the prizes of life from his- 
 hands. And yet this man could say — 
 
 " Perhaps there never was a being who did not flatter himself that he 
 possessed some quality by which he was entitled to be distinguished. 
 No doubt, in the generality of cases, it is a mere self-delusion ; but in 
 proportion as we are lenient to ourselves, we are severe examiners of the 
 pretensions of others. Is it possible for any one to estimate his own 
 talents or genius correctly ? He knows what passes within him better 
 than others can know ; but the doubt is, whether he can form a righi 
 judgment upon it." 
 
 Verily, we are droll creatures* 
 
 And now see this sweet little bit of egotism : — 
 " I have been an enthusiast in literature for fifty years, but without 
 much effect. What my enemies sa}- may be easily guessed, c Why, it 
 is your want of capacity.' This, T assure them, is not exactly what I am 
 inclined to admit. That my labours have been profitless, is no certain 
 proof of their demerit." 
 
 Every page almost of his works breathes a spirit of 
 pride in his rank and blood ; and yet to none besides is 
 he so bitter as to his nearest relatives. He resembled 
 a great deal that one juryman who found eleven obstinate 
 fellows with him — he quarrelled with them all. He 
 says — 
 
 u I have never received a particle of aid, or friendship,, or even civility 
 from relationship, since, at the commencement of manhood, I entered into 
 the world." 
 
 After running through a distinguished list of them > 
 he adds — 
 
 " I know nothing personally of any of these relations — great in 
 rank, riches, and political power. They may have disclaimed me — I 
 
 disclaim them all They were slaves to the world and all its 
 
 mean glitters and compliances ; bigoted aristocrats, with an affectation 
 of humility which could deceive none but fools." 
 
325 
 
 But he says, further on— — 
 
 " It is natural for me to have a fondness for the old aristocracy of 
 England, and to feel a disgust at the modern dilutions of it with infusions 
 from the dregs of the people, and more especially from monied parvenus. 
 Time has made the old nobility ; — a job and a minister's smile can make 
 a new noble." 
 
 This is miserable taste, and poor bitterness. One would 
 think he had lived long enough to discover there is nothing; 
 valuable about rank but its usefulness; that it deserves no 
 honour but as it is a great example of order and morality, 
 and greatness of mind. A man who has deserved his 
 patent of nobility is the great man. An offshoot may 
 be worthy or not ; and is just as likely to be either as the 
 new noble, " made by a job or a minister's smile." 
 
 If you would know the secret of this bitterness, — he 
 was a candidate, or a claimant rather, for the barony of 
 Sudely and Chandos, and lost his claim through the 
 apathy of his relatives, and the opposition of the new 
 nobility, as he thought, of the House of Peers — of course, 
 not because he was not entitled to it ! 
 
 CLXVI. 
 
 ! December 9, 1845. 
 
 I have just returned from a visit to my native place, 
 which is a droll place too. A woman fell in love with a 
 man 39 years of age, and could not be persuaded to 
 give up the freak. Her relatives and children opposed 
 the match rudely, even took measures to confine her to 
 her house. She told them, nothing could alter her deter- 
 mination ; if they " fastened the doors, she would jump 
 out of the window ;" and lo ! absolutely she accom- 
 plished her purpose last week, and eloped with her 
 swain. She was 81 years of age, upon my honour. In 
 the same small town also there are living three women 
 who have had 71 children— one 25, another 24, and the 
 third 22. The youngest of these women is now 86. 
 These things are secrets thousands of you would like to 
 know something about. Such enduring passion ! such 
 munificent mothers ! 
 
 Free-will is a contingency — the expression of preceding 
 p 5 
 
326 
 
 causes. I am good, because I have learned to be good j 
 I am evil for the same reason. I act freely from com- 
 pulsion of previous laws. Your love is free, but still the 
 consequence of the law of your nature — you are still 
 restrained by what has gone before — all is God's 
 chain. 1 am afraid I have not made this plainer, this 
 Gordian knot. 
 
 Tell your brother not to bribe you against writing so 
 much to me. I'll bid against him. However, pray 
 don't write before him, unless he is fast asleep; his talk* 
 ing to you is at my cost. I know well I can then expect 
 nothing but the outermost peel, a sort of cutaneous erup- 
 tion of your mind ; whereas I want always the free-will 
 expression of foregone culture and principle. 
 
 CLXVIL 
 
 December 12, 1845. 
 I was one of a committee from our Guardians to visit 
 the Industrial School and the Lunatic Asylum (both 
 at Tooting) the other day. There are 800 boys and 
 girls rammed into one old house there, with the addition 
 of some shed-like erections. To my surprise, they were 
 in good health, and seemed well-cared for. The master 
 told us, they lost only five last year ; and certainly 
 they had only six in the infirmary in bad health. They 
 had no besetting illness, not even any cutaneous erup- 
 tion, and yet they are the children of the very poor and 
 the dissolute. We afterwards visited the lunatics, who 
 are managed on the enlightened system of the present 
 day. Humanity and gentle decision seem the great 
 principles of the government. This is a great gain for 
 our most unfortunate fellow-creatures. 
 
 There was a woman there belonging to our Union^ 
 who knew two of our committee, and addressed them in 
 a cheerful and sensible manner, so much so as to make 
 me believe at once she had very little necessity for her 
 confinement. However, as we were passing on, one of 
 the visitors said, " But, how well you look, Mrs. Pitt !' r 
 " Sir," she replied, " that is a great mistake of your's — 
 I am not Mrs. Pitt; I saw that poor creature die — I 
 buried her. in fact. Cannot vou understand I am in the 
 
 I 
 
327 
 
 place of her — her representative ?" She has the persua- 
 sion that she is another being. Her husband failed in busi- 
 ness, and failed also in his duty to her. This double be- 
 reavement turned her brain. She remembers something 
 of her sanity, and the difference seems to be another life 
 to her. The links of her being are there, but not joined 
 together. Oftentimes I have dreamt after this fashion, 
 and felt the delusive certainty of being quite another 
 person. The wild images of a dream make a sleeping 
 insanity — there is but a step between us. 
 
 And so now, Tory, what a mess you are in ! What 
 will you do now ? — who now will guide you ? You are a 
 body without a head, limbs without direction ! If, now, 
 one could persuade men to think only of their country, 
 to forget their unfair ambition, to keep simply within the 
 range of the people's good,— what a government we 
 might have, from these men who think so much alike, 
 and stand so far apart ; if common sense and business 
 habits Avere alone to guide us. We have worn out all 
 mere rhetoric — brilliancy of speech and fine talking — 
 — set them aside like china ornaments. Earnest pur- 
 pose, rational economy, and lofty determination, are 
 rapidly gaining ground. We have but to rub out the 
 words Whig and Tory — to root up these old and foolish 
 land-marks, and substitute the principle of honest deal- 
 ing towards all the family of man, and then we should 
 become as much enriched as we should become pleasant 
 in the sight of God. 
 
 Oh, poor rank ! Look at that duke there, counselling 
 the poor, for the purpose of keeping up the corn laws — 
 counselling the half-starved, whose sweat is spent for 
 his advantage ! — Oh ! that pinch of curry-powder ! 
 What an offence against Him who gave the earth for the 
 family of man ! And then for the leading direction of your 
 party eloquence; hear what your pet poet says : — 
 
 " The commercial sj^stem has long been undermining the distinction 
 of ranks, and introducing a worse distinction in its stead- Mushrooms are 
 starting up from the dunghill of trade, nobody knows how ; and family 
 pride is therefore become a subject of ridicule in England. The com- 
 mercial spirit is universal in England ; it extends to every thing, and 
 poisons every thing — literature, arts, religion, government, are alike 
 tainted ; it is a lues which has got into the system of the country, and is 
 
328 
 
 rotting flesh and bone Governments who found their prosperity 
 
 upon manufactories, sleep upon gunpowder. If the French could esta- 
 blish manufactories at home, and annihilate, or greatly reduce ours, they 
 would do precisely the best possible thing which could be done for England, 
 
 in the best possible way The tendency of the present system is to 
 
 convert the peasantry into the poor ; her policy should be, to reverse this, 
 and to convert the poor into peasantry, to increase them, to enlighten 
 them ; for their numbers are the strength, and their knowledge is the 
 security of states." 
 
 " Who said this?" South ey, upon my honour I 
 
 Many a one of you will also read the following words, 
 of the same great man, under queer sensations : — 
 
 " The faculty of conscience, when it is wisely and earnestly directed, 
 is an infallible guide of conduct ; but that which will make a good man 
 act well, will not always make him talk sensibly." 
 
 I recommend this to you : — 
 
 " The repentance of the wise is in his works ; that of the fool, in hi& 
 tears." 
 
 This man must have wept bitterly for his politics. 
 
 In enforcing God's law upon the heart, he quotes these 
 words : — 
 
 " Who is that man, saith the Lord, that will not give up his heart to 
 me, when I have promised to guide it ? " 
 
 The great question will always recur, Who is the inter- 
 preter ? 
 
 Have you read his " Espriella's Letters from England 1" 
 They would amuse you, at all events. He says there, 
 " The first introduction of the translated Scriptures into 
 our churches was injurious, and caused schism;" and 
 he relates the following anecdote as illustrative of the 
 fact. " One day a priest was reading the 25th chapter 
 of Ecclesiasticus, ' All wickedness is but little to the 
 wickedness of woman. Of the woman came the begin- 
 ning of sin, and through her we all die. Give the water 
 no passage, neither a wicked woman liberty to gad 
 abroad.' One of his female auditors sat swelling with 
 anger till she could bear it no longer. l Do you call 
 this the word of God ?' said she ; * I think it is the word 
 of the devil ;' and she knocked down the Bible, and 
 left the church." 
 
329 
 But what think you of these words of his ? — 
 
 " Ireland is the vulnerable part of the British empire. The exem- 
 plary attachment of the Irish to the .religion of their fathers' is beyond 
 all praise, and almost beyond all example. Nothing but the complete 
 re-establishment of that religion can ever conciliate them to the English 
 government, or reclaim them from their present savage state ; and this 
 hierarchy is too well aware of the consequences ever to consent to this.' 
 
 CLXVIIT. 
 
 December 14, 1845. " 
 We have had a stranger preaching to us this morning 
 from St. John's doubt of Christ's mission, — " Art thou 
 he that shall come, or do we look for another?" To my 
 surprise, he boldly allowed the doubt, and quoted also 
 the apostles' doubts before and after the crucifixion. If ? 
 seeing this want of faith in his friends, with every ad- 
 vantage of personal devotion, and miracles acted before 
 their eyes — if these men could not believe him to be 
 God, neither by seeing, by faith, nor by argument, what 
 need is there for the deep denunciation against all unbe- 
 lievers, accusing them of all vileness therefore, and every 
 wicked design in their unbelief? St. Paul's belief had no 
 merit; and perhaps this fact formed his ideas of election. 
 The whole argument of the clergyman rested here: — 
 " The book is given to us for our choice; there it is, for 
 reception or rejection. It exhibits this important proof, 
 — it is still the test of man's character. If we reject it, 
 we reject it because of sin, because its precepts conflict 
 with our propensities." How would he apply this to the 
 apostles, to St. John? Were they more than blind and 
 bewildered ? 
 
 CLXIX. 
 
 December 15, 1845. 
 You are a provoking creature ; to me you are a cran- 
 berry tart. Have I still the labour to go through of 
 convincing you that I like to see the other side of my 
 own settled opinions, and that I can bear a generous 
 conflict ? I like to know what you Tories have to say for 
 yourselves. I study you daily, and with much more 
 
330 
 
 anxiety than I do the Whigs. I really like your poke 
 at me — "Don't you find a little self-conceit a useful 
 addition to your progress ?" Yes, truly ; only the self- 
 conceit is in too great advance of the progress ; ray brass 
 is not much rewarded. 
 
 I think you do not quite understand what expediency 
 is. It is a guide for the day — a fitful, changing thing, ac- 
 cording to light and deviating circumstances. Principle 
 is a life governance, a faith in right and duty. A man of 
 expediency may be a clever man, often successful, but 
 never greatly so. A man of principle is a great man, 
 often unsuccessful, but always solidly useful, and sure 
 of the ultimate success of his projects ; and patient to 
 wait for it, even after his mortal end, if need be. What- 
 ever great benefit has come to pass has been of slow 
 growth ; and, indeed, not often has the originator seen 
 the complete victory. Your "Sir Robert" has fought 
 on all sides, and successfully very often ; tell me now, if 
 you can call him a great man? " Lord John's" princi- 
 ples will be something; his reward he will see from 
 "the stars among;" in his life he will reap little 
 honour. 
 
 I had forgotten your sister. After such a separation, 
 you must have a great deal to say to one another. But 
 it does seem funny to me, that you should declare you are 
 naturally taciturn. It resembles my assertion of natural 
 timidity. I confess the evidence, in both cases perhaps, 
 is Men au contraire. I remember your sister as a young 
 girl ; she so stands before my imagination now ; and I 
 call to mind some little passages of her wooing. Be- 
 tween that day and this, what a gap — what an interval — 
 what hopes and fears have assailed us ! I wonder if she 
 will say with me, that quietness is the greatest advantage 
 she has gained — common work-a-day content the richest 
 prize of life. Present my best compliments. Plow 
 many children has she? 
 
 Have you read any of Priestley's works ? I am read- 
 ing the critique of his Life in the Edinburgh Review, 
 No. 17. He was the most voluminous writer of his 
 day; and nothing has astonished me so much as the 
 manner of its accomplishment. 
 
331 
 
 His Editor says— 
 
 " But what principally enabled him to do so much was regularity ; 
 for it does not appear that, at any period of his life, he spent more than 
 six or eight hours a day in business that required much mental exertion. 
 In his diary I find — i Studying the Scriptures, one hour ; political 
 writers, half-an-hour ; philosophy and history, two hours ; classics, 
 half-an-hour ; composition, one hour ;— in all five hours.' " 
 
 He says, indeed, " that lie composed as quick as he 
 could write, and without much labour at any time ;" — 
 the fruit of practice, constant reading, and a well- 
 directed understanding. 
 
 Priestley says of himself— 
 
 " My memory is truly humbling to me. I have so completely 
 forgotten what I have myself published, that, in reading my own 
 writings, what I find in them often appears perfectly new to me." 
 
 To my ignorance all this seems impossible. 
 
 His death is as remarkable as his labour. The Editor 
 says — 
 
 " On Sunday he was much weaker. He desired me to read to him 
 the 11th chapter of John. He then dwelt on the advantage he had 
 derived from reading the Scriptures daily, and advised me to do the 
 same, saying, * It will prove to you a source of the purest pleasure.' 
 After a time, he added, * We shall all meet finally ; we only require 
 different degrees of discipline to prepare us for final happiness.' On 
 Monday morning after having lain perfectly still till four o'clock, he 
 called to me, but in a fainter tone than usual, to give him some wine 
 and tincture of bark. I asked how he felt. He answered, he had no 
 pain, but appeared fainting away gradually. About an hour after, he 
 asked for some chicken broth, of which he took a tea- cupful. About 
 an hour after, he desired, in a faint voice, that we would move him on to 
 a cot alongside of the bed. He died in about ten minutes after, but 
 breathed his last so easily, that neither myself nor my wife perceived 
 it at the time. He had put his hand to his face, which prevented our 
 observing it." 
 
 CLXX. 
 
 December 18, 1845. 
 My girls came home from school yesterday, and have 
 been in here this morning explaining their studies, and 
 showing me some of their handy-works. Whatever 
 
332 
 
 their progress may be, the system seems a good one. 
 It is intended to provoke thoughtful exertion, as well as 
 mechanical labour. They learn grammar chiefly through 
 composition ; a far better way than keeping alone to the 
 dull rules. I like their examples ; they exhibit a decent 
 knowledge of grammar, and some original thought. I 
 suppose the commendations of the masters go for nothing, 
 and therefore I need not mention them. — Oh, please to 
 send those French letters back you have kept so long. 
 I am rather odd in the fancy of keeping records of 
 children's mental growth. I have a box of odds and 
 ends of this kind; and, like a fond old father, I fancy 
 these memorials will give my children pleasure when they 
 become men and women. I have an old school-book of 
 mine, wherein I first began to copy out verses that de- 
 lighted me. You cannot conceive the pleasure, and the 
 absolute boy-possession that is upon me, when repeating 
 these pieces I so often wept over in youth. It is 
 not a fancy, something remembered and conjured up, 
 but an absolute re-entry into a boy's bright hopes and 
 motive powers. For the time, I forget my grey hairs, 
 as perfectly, as entirely as when I dream of my young 
 days. Oh ! laugh if you like — I don't admit many 
 people to this sanctum. 
 
 Yesterday I read again the critique of Byron's " Hours 
 of Idleness" in the Edinburgh Review — that stinger, 
 that made a man and a poet of him. Every young man 
 in the kingdom should read it, and think then of its 
 consequences. It exhibits what a determined purpose 
 may accomplish, if there be but the germ of the right 
 spirit within us. What encouragement there is for us, 
 against any odds, so that the energy be there, the manly 
 intelligent courage. Even now, after the proof of the 
 man, I cannot but think the Editor was justified in his 
 censure : no poet can discover the germ of his latter spirit 
 in the " Hours of Idleness." 
 
 What think you of this portrait of woman as an 
 author? it is from the critique on Madame Cottin's 
 " Exiles of Siberia:"— 
 
 " To this delicacy of principle, which is virtue, she adds delicacy of 
 hand, which is taste. It implies nice and sensitive perceptions, a mind 
 quickly seeing, an artless indication of emotions natural, but not vulgar. 
 
333 
 
 This exquisiteness of tact, this play of features, belong" to the tiom J 
 positions of Madame Cottin ; they may fairly be considered as cha- 
 racteristic of the best authors of her sex." 
 
 In speaking of the place where woman gains this, 
 knowledge, he adds — 
 
 " It would be a subject of interesting inquiry, whether this'power b& 
 original, or formed by circumstances. To woman the reciprocation 
 of social kindness is in some sense a business ; to man, only a recreation; 
 It is their field duty, from which household cares are their repose. 
 Men do not seek the intercourse of society as a field to be cultivated, 
 but merely to throw themselves on its bosom to sleep. Women, on the 
 contrary, resort to it with recollections undisturbed, and with curiosity 
 all alive. Thus, that which we enjoy and forget, keeps their attention 
 and their feelings in constant play, and gradually matures their 
 perception into instinct." 
 
 And further on he adds — 
 
 " To similar causes the softer sex owe their exquisite acquaintance 
 with life and manners ; their fine discernment of the smaller 
 peculiarities of character, which throw so much light and shade over 
 the surface of ordinary society. Of the deeper varieties of the mind 
 they know little, because they have not been accustomed to watch 
 its movements when agitated by the vexing disquietudes of business, 
 or ploughed up into frightful inequalities by the tempests of public 
 life." 
 
 In what work, native or foreign, can I see a good 
 portrait of English manners ? Southey's " Espriella's 
 Letters," which might have been the vehicle of most 
 instructive amusement, and full of happy portraiture, 
 (for he could have done it well) is good for nothing as 
 a picture of manners and customs. Our novels are our 
 best references for domestic life, and our newspapers for 
 our social existence. They are true enough ; but there 
 wants some master hand to cull these flowers, and so 
 exhibit, in one place, a good portrait of the national 
 character. 
 
 Southey's " Colloquies" will please you, woman and 
 Tory as you are. The framework of that book is a 
 lovely dream ; and the introduction to the chapters, the 
 story told, or the walk of the ghost beside him, is always 
 enchanting. His notions of political economy are, to 
 speak simply, stupid beyond measure. A pretty mess 
 we should have been in " if our commercial activity hac| 
 
334 
 
 Stopped at the point of Sir Thomas More's life." It is 
 worth thinking, whether we should not have become a 
 province of France, if our gold had not flowed freely. 
 Without this, the produce of our commercial activity, 
 all the kingdoms of Europe might have been essentially 
 changed; and if not, what would support our vast popu- 
 lation? would agriculture? See now, how we employ a 
 very limited portion of it in agriculture; and if they 
 had no better customers than themselves, one among 
 another, why, even they, now half starved, would then 
 die in thousands. 
 
 CLXXI. 
 
 December 20, 1845. 
 
 I like that action upon you from the dead, which you 
 describe so well ; it is the heart's solemn prayer — cherish 
 it. It should be distinct, however, from that maudlin 
 impression which makes you envy death. To a simple 
 being, who never goes out of his way after fancied misery, 
 life is never so persecuted. Misery (not grief) is chiefly 
 the consequence of brooding over difficulties and troubles, 
 and is alleviated just in proportion as we look firmly in 
 the face of these things, and ask their import ; perhaps 
 they all have an import, or may be made so for our 
 benefit. 
 
 O'Connell is at the head of all the powerful minds of 
 Ireland. He is a "humbug" only by necessity, and 
 uses it as an episode, as the indirect introduction" of 
 great principles into the unlettered mind of the masses. 
 If the exhibition of a refined mind were necessary to 
 enforce his policy, he could give it to your heart's con- 
 tent. But he knows well that the gross public read 
 better out of another book. The sense is hidden below, 
 and to be read only by the priesthood of the scholars of 
 the country. If you are to act upon the comprehen- 
 sion of any audience, you must talk within the powers 
 of their alphabet. 
 
 Sydney Smith was a wit, and a clever fellow into the 
 bargain: some say, he loved money quite as well as 
 principle. His denunciation of " Lord John," that you 
 quote, has some truth about it, and a good deal of yellow 
 ochre. "Lord John" is not equally useful in bringing 
 
335 
 
 about results with Sir Robert Peel. He is not so good 
 " a whip," but he knows the science of " driving" better. 
 Without your Peel, where would your coach go ? We 
 have twenty Lord Johns. 
 
 I have just heard that Lord John has resigned. So 
 now you have the reins again ; and so long as Sir Robert 
 keeps with you, is able to guide you, you'll do. He is 
 so clever a whip, can turn sharp corners so skilfully, 
 and keep his team so close together when essential, as 
 to make your heavy weight represent a good deal of 
 life and vigour. Our Whigs never adhere enough — 
 they think too much for themselves. Your longer-eared 
 breed, if a master whip has the guidance, always obtain 
 their objects better, and, it must be confessed, if supported 
 by a good opposition, work more usefully for the country. 
 Our Whigs act like a good spur to your old gate post. 
 
 CLXXII. 
 
 December 21, 1845. 
 Because I fear that you have no very correct opinion 
 of the wrong inflicted upon Ireland, I send a few extracts 
 from No. 25 of the Edinburgh Review, having relation 
 to the conquest by William III. and to the treaties then 
 entered into and ratified by Government : — ■ 
 
 " The war carried on in Ireland against King William cannot deserve 
 the name of a rebellion — it was a struggle for their lawful prince, whose 
 zeal for the Catholic religion could not by them be considered as a crime. 
 This was terminated by the surrender of Limerick, upon conditions, by 
 which the Catholics hoped to secure to themselves the free enjoyment of 
 their religion in future, and an exemption from all those civil penalties 
 and incapacities which the reigning creed is so fond of heaping upon its 
 subjugated rivals." 
 
 " By the various articles of this treaty, they were to enjoy such privi- 
 leges in the exercise of their religion as they did enjoy in the time of 
 Charles II.; and the King promised, upon the meeting of Parliament, 
 1 to endeavour to procure for them such further security in that par- 
 ticular, as may preserve them from any disturbance on account of their 
 said religion.' " 
 
 These and other articles King William "ratifies, for 
 himself, his heirs and successors, as far as in him lies, 
 and confirms the same, and every clause and matter 
 therein contained." This is the celebrated treaty of 
 
336 
 
 Limerick ; and it diffused comfort, confidence, and tran- 
 quillity among the Catholics. It was signed 3d October, 
 1691. 
 
 " In 1695, the Catholics were deprived of all means of educating their 
 children. Then they were disarmed, and then all the priests banished. 
 In 1 704 it was enacted, that no Protestant was to marry a Catholic. No 
 Papist to purchase land. None to be in a line of entail ; but the estate to 
 pass on, as if the Papist were dead. No Papist to hold any office, civil or 
 military. Not to vote at elections. Not to hold advowsons. In 1709, 
 they were prevented from holding an annuity for life. Papists keeping 
 schools, to be prosecuted as convicts. No Catholic can serve on grand 
 juries ; cannot be high or petty constable ; nor vote at vestries. In 
 George II.'s reign, Papists were prohibited from being barristers. Persons 
 robbed by privateers, during a war with a Popish prince, to be indem- 
 nified ; the money to be paid by the Catholics alone. Any priest cele- 
 brating a marriage between a Papist and a Protestant to be hanged." 
 Oh ! but hear this : — 
 
 il During all this time there was not the slightest rebellion in 
 Ireland!" 
 
 *• In 1715 and 1745, while Scotland and the North of England were 
 up in arms, not a man stirred in Ireland ; yet the spirit of persecution 
 against the Catholics continued till the 18th of his present majesty, 
 George III. ; and then gradually gave way to the increase of knowledge, 
 the humanity of the sovereign, the abilities of Mr. Grattan, the weak- 
 ness of England struggling in America, and the dread inspired by the 
 French revolution." 
 
 " Such is the rapid outline of a code of laws, which reflects indelible 
 disgrace upon the English character, and explains but too clearly the 
 cause of that hatred in which the English name has been long held in 
 Ireland. It would require centuries to efface such an impression ; and 
 yet, when we find it fresh and operating at the end of a few years, we 
 explain the fact by every cause which can degrade the Irish, and by 
 
 none which can remind us of our scandalous policy Heavy 
 
 oppression is removed ; light insults and provocations are retained ; the 
 scourge does not fall upon their shoulders, but it sounds in their ears. . . . 
 It is really difficult to say, which is the most utterly destitute of common 
 sense— the capricious and arbitrary stop we have made in our conces- 
 sions to the Catholics, or the precise period we have chosen for this 
 grand effort of obstinate folly." 
 
 This was written in 1808. 
 
 These are facts capable of proof; and if your blood 
 does not boil against such oppression, you are incorri-* 
 
337 
 
 gible. To me such conduct is an outrage and a blas- 
 phemy. It clearly meant extermination, and was backed 
 by the devilish desire of robbery. I wish I could write 
 a good ballad ; every verse should end, " The treaty of 
 Limerick, the treaty of Limerick." 
 
 The opening of this article (a review of ParnelPs 
 " Irish Popery Laws") has this remarkable passage, 
 fitted exactly to this day: — 
 
 " Whenever it can be made clear to the understanding of the great 
 mass of enlightened people, that any system of political conduct is 
 necessary to the public welfare, every obstacle will be swept away from 
 it, and, as we conceive it to be by no means improbable, that the country 
 may be placed in a situation where its safety or ruin will depend upon 
 its conduct towards the Catholics, we sincerely believe that we are doing 
 our duty in throwing every possible light on this momentous question. 
 Our statesmen must be presumed to be open to the influence of reason ; 
 or, if they were not, to the influence of prudence and discretion, when 
 they perceive the public opinion to be loudly and clearly against them. 
 To lie by, in a timid and indolent silence— to suppose an inflexibility in 
 which no court ever could under pressing circumstances presume — and 
 to neglect a regular and vigorous appeal to public opinion, — is to give up 
 all chance of doing good, and to abandon the only instrument by which 
 
 the few are ever prevented from ruining the many It is folly to 
 
 talk of any other ultimatum in government, than perfect justice to the 
 fair claims of the subject. The concessions to the Irish Catholics in 
 1792 were to be the ne plus ultra. Every engine was set on foot to 
 induce the grand juries in Ireland to petition against further concessions ; 
 and in six months afterwards Government were compelled to introduce 
 themselves those further relaxations of the penal code, of which they 
 had just before assured the Catholics they must abandon all hope. Such 
 is the absurdity of supposing, that a few interested and "ignorant indi- 
 viduals can postpone, at their pleasure and caprice, the happiness of 
 millions." 
 
 " Toleration never had a present tense, nor taxation a future one. 
 Little or nothing is to be expected from the shame of deferring what 
 
 it is so wicked and perilous to defer To us such kind of conduct 
 
 conveys no other notion than that of sordid avaricious impudence ; — it 
 puts to sale the best interests of the country for some improvement in the 
 wines and meats which a man uses, and encourages a new political 
 morality, which may always postpone any other great measure as well as 
 the emancipation of the Catholics." 
 
 If this be not sound reasoning, and earnest pleading, 
 and, moreover, as applicable to Ireland to-day as it was 
 
338 
 
 in 1808, though Catholic Emancipation is carried, and 
 twenty other great grievances removed (so overflowing 
 is the cup of our iniquity) ; if this be not an excuse for 
 the rough energy of O'Connell, " that great humbug," 
 and for all the miserable agitation in his train ; if the 
 exhibition of these laws, their iniquity, dishonesty, and 
 robbery, be not fully made out and properly denounced, 
 — then indeed, " I am an ass, and the son of an ass :" 
 that's all. 
 
 CLXXIII. 
 
 December 22, 1845. 
 
 In the Times of this day, you will see these words : — 
 
 ' " It is the boast of this sera, that it unites the ancient factions, and 
 reconciles the discordant theories of government. Tory and Whig are 
 passing away. They are only remembered names. They have no 
 place in the system that is. Fragments and specimens survive. We 
 can contemplate, examine, classify, describe, and admire ; but revive 
 we cannot. Behold the visible consummation which history at last 
 reveals. Public necessity and public importunity fight their way through 
 the ruin of cabinets to the foot of the throne. Almost at the same hour 
 the heads of the two ancient and antiquated parties present themselves, 
 and declare the impossibility of constructing ministries out of existing party 
 
 material Providence and the people have spoken, in that deep 
 
 tone which has shaken all things, all classes and parties. ... Sir Robert 
 Peel must be the popular premier ; and that people, from whom he 
 virtually receives his present policy and trust, he now determines faith- 
 fully, honestly, and impartially to serve." 
 
 So now, here is a new creed for your political leaders to 
 set by heart. Introduce it to vour friends ! 
 
 In the same way it may be said, that our pioneers in 
 the region of thought are already tired of Catholic and 
 Protestant. Religion is taking another mode of guid- 
 ance; and the people are getting indoctrinated therewith. 
 Soon it will be woven into the web of society. The 
 public mind will generalise, will cut off particular distinc- 
 tions, and be earnest chiefly for the national good, poli- 
 tically and religiously. As the kings of old legislated 
 for the kingship, so also have the "Whigs and Tories 
 
339 
 
 legislated for the aristocracy; but now is the people's 
 turn. Look well to what comes of it ! 
 
 Thousands of people care nothing for Sir Robert or 
 Lord John j they are looking for measures, for deeds 
 to be done j and both these men know it well. 
 
 About seven years ago there was a calico printer 
 living in Watling Street, with whose " house" we did 
 business. About five years ago he published a pamphlet 
 on trade, which was thought very creditable to him. 
 Some time after he went to Manchester, to superintend 
 the printing department; and occasionally attended a 
 debating society, and spoke there on the science of trade, 
 and its etfects on the community. He became a favour- 
 ite, and advanced step by step in the estimation of his 
 townsmen. He has since visited many places in Eng- 
 land, demonstrating the absurdity as well as the injury 
 of the corn laws. I heard a captain of the navy say 
 to-day to a London banker, " Did you see what a set 
 they had in Guildhall on Monday preaching about the 
 corn laws? — and that Cobden there too — God bless us !" 
 To-day the Times says, " It is generally believed Mr. 
 Cobden has been offered the place of vice-president of the 
 Board of Trade." So now, " this fellow " is picking up 
 the cloak of Huskisson, and worthy too, thousands think, 
 to wear it. Oh, you great ones of the earth ! when will 
 you read by Nature's alphabet, and forget something of 
 the jargon of your schools, your darling Shibboleth? 
 
 CLXXIV. 
 
 December 25, 1845. 
 One more quotation for poor Ireland, and I have done. 
 It is from Mr. Newenham's " View of the Natural, Po- 
 litical, and Commercial Circumstances of Ireland :" — 
 
 " With a situation so eminently favourable for commerce— with 
 districts as fertile as any in Europe — with vast advantages in artificial 
 navigation— with excellent roads— with a climate so mild as for the 
 unhoused labourer to pursue his avocations without danger throughout 
 the year— with an abundant supply of minerals and fossils— with a soil 
 luxuriant beyond common measure— with a singular assemblage of all 
 the various requisites for becoming the great emporium of the com- 
 mercial world,— how has it happened, that Ireland has not been what 
 
340 
 
 Sir William Temple said it might become, — ' one of the richest countries 
 in Europe V How did it happen that a spirit of industry, and a spirit 
 of commercial enterprise, became completely extinguished among the 
 active, quick-sighted people of Ireland V 
 
 li It is impossible," says the Edinburgh Review, — 
 — " In this place to go through the disgusting detail of the various 
 commercial regulations which, aided by the penal laws, have produced 
 this melancholy effect. They were dictated by English traders, and 
 were among the worst that ever came from such suspicious advisers. 
 As one example however, for the sake of the palpable effect, the known 
 result by proof, we give the following : — * The progress of the Irish 
 woollen manufacture,' says Mr. Newenham, ' having still continued 
 to give increasing inquietude to the monopolizers of England, the 
 Parliament resolved to take decisive measures to preclude all com- 
 petition. The English Lords accordingly presented an address to 
 William III., stating that the consequences of its growth in Ireland 
 would be, through their natural advantages, the injury, and perhaps 
 ruin, of the home trade ! A similar address was presented by the 
 Commons. His Majesty was pleased to say in answer, ' Gentlemen, 
 I will do all that in me lies to discourage the woollen manufacture of 
 Ireland.' This," says the Editor, " was the answer of the most liberal 
 and enlightened prince of the age ; and was spoken, not of an enemy's 
 country, not even of a distant colony, but of a part of the dominions of 
 the crown of England. This is no solitary case ; by the 18th of 
 Charles II., and not repealed till the reign of George III., the importa- 
 tion of all cattle into England, alive or dead, of whatever sort, was 
 declared a common nuisance, and forbidden on pain of forfeiture." 
 
 Further on, the Editor says, in refering to the effects 
 of this barbarous policy on the Protestant landlords of 
 Ireland : 
 
 " The fetters which they had been forging for others, necessarily 
 shackled their own advance. The rich Protestants felt the need of a vent 
 for their produce, as well as the farms of the poor Catholics. Time 
 brought to their conviction, that by dastardly, servile, and useless com- 
 promise, they had sacrificed their own wealth and honour by sacrificing 
 their country ; and this conviction, joined to the critical situation of 
 Great Britain, gave rise to a spirit of conciliation, which to have delayed 
 must have terminated in complete emancipation of trade, or complete 
 separation. ' The truth is,' says Mr. Newenham, 'that had it not 
 been for want in the former case, and fear in the latter, on the part of 
 Great Britain, we should have been always degraded; and, to want and 
 fear, Irishmen have had to look for what should be conceded by liberality 
 and sound policy, even until now.' " 
 
341 
 
 Now then, you may know something of O'Connell's 
 repetition of " England's necessity is Ireland's opportu- 
 nity." And besides, it may illustrate the sage recom- 
 mendation of Southey, to annihilate our own manufac- 
 tures — at least, "to reduce them to the point of Sir 
 Thomas More's life-time/' Verily, a man may sing 
 well, and talk very unwisely. 
 
 CLXXV. 
 
 December 27, 1845. 
 Have you seen Punches Almanack? Poor Caudle 
 is married to Miss Prettyman; and, for fear of a repeti- 
 tion of the late Mrs. Caudle's arguments, he begins play- 
 ing with her tools. I must say, he is an apt scholar. 
 
 " * It is rather extraordinary, Mrs. Caudle, that we have been married 
 four weeks, and yet you can't make me a cup of tea. But I don't know 
 how I should expect it. There never was but one woman who could 
 make tea to my taste, and she is now in heaven.' — [She wants to go out 
 with him to see some sights.] * Nonsense ! It is quite enough for women 
 to go out to hunt for husbands ; when they have caught them, let 'em sit 
 at home, and sing with the kettle and the cat : their best place is their 
 fireside.' — [He brings home a great dog, and she expostulates against the 
 inconvenience, and that he may at least be tied up.] ' No, Madam ; 
 liberty — I could'nt deny liberty even to a dog.' — ' The beast will Mil my 
 cat ?' — « Perhaps he may. But cats are plenty enough ; and besidesj'you 
 may prevent it — lock her up in the cellar. — And yet I talk of liberty'} 
 To be sure I do. But there's your great defect ; you cannot see, 
 liberty is one thing for dogs; liberty for cats is another. That's what 
 I call a moral distinction ; entirely.' " 
 
 Capital! as between Tories and Whigs— the poor and 
 the rich — England and Ireland — and several other things 
 besides. 
 
 I have just been reading a critique on " Mrs. Mon- 
 tague's Letters." She was also, like Lady Mary W. 
 Montague, a clever woman, a witty writer, but too fond 
 of effect. What do you think of this opinion of her's 
 on marriage ? — 
 
 11 As for modern marriages, they are great infringers of the baptismal 
 vow ; for 'tis commonly the pomps and vanities of this wicked world on 
 
 Q 
 
342 
 
 one side, and the sinful lusts of the flesh on the other. For my part, 
 when I marry, I do not intend to enlist entirely under the banners of 
 Cupid or Plutus, but take prudent consideration and decent inclination 
 for my advisers. I shall never run into Aaron's idolatry, nor could I ever 
 bow the knee to Mammon. To say the truth, he is the God of our 
 fathers and the God of our mothers." 
 
 In contrasting the effect of education on young girls, 
 she gives these witty examples of bad taste among her 
 acquaintances : — 
 
 " His wife he has always kept in the country, to nurse seven or eight 
 daughters after his own manner ; and the success has answered the 
 design. In their diversions there is nothing like Blind-man's-buff. He 
 brought them to our races, and carried them to the ball, where, poor 
 girls ! they expected to be pure merry, and to play at Puss-in-the-corner 
 and Hunt-the-whistle ; but seeing there was nothing but footing, they 
 fell asleep. In Buckinghamshire, your Grace saw a fine importation of 
 
 the S 's. They have not one article of behaviour so untaught as to 
 
 seem natural. These have not one manner that appears acquired by 
 art. The two families would make a fine contrast. Pray but figure the 
 Catharinas advancing to meet these jumping Joans. To be sure, seeing 
 Madame courtsey so low, they would think she meant to play at leap- 
 frog, and would jump over her head before she got to the extremest sink 
 of her couitsey." 
 
 Here is another picture for you : — 
 
 ** One sees a good deal of the world at Tunbridge. There is one man 
 drilling waters to cure him of the ill consequences of sloth and avarice, 
 and the melancholy remembrance of having denied himself the benefits 
 of his time, and others the assistance of his money. There the splendid 
 South-Sea Director would wash away the recollection of his iniquity, and 
 by magnificence gild his crime, till fools admire and envy it. How many 
 adorn their guilt and misery, to catch that approbation from others their 
 own heart denies ! These waters would be of great use, could they but 
 make Directors void the worm that never dies : but Conscience is a dragon 
 not to be charmed by all the sweetest songs of the syren Pleasure ; and, 
 in the midst of these diversions and the gaiety of company, they seem to 
 me not to be able to speak peace to their souls." 
 
343 
 
 CLXXVI. 
 
 December 30, 1845. 
 If you want a key to the eloquence of our parliament- 
 ary men, see this advice of " Single-speech " Hamilton, 
 in his " Parliamentary Logic :" — 
 
 " It seldom happens but that some one person in a debate asserts 
 something so extravagant, as to be ridiculous and untenable. You may 
 easily manage to treat this as the argument of all that is spoken." 
 
 " Either over-rate and aggravate what is asserted against you, and then 
 you will be able to show it is not true ; or under-rate it, and then admit 
 it in a degree, and with an apology." 
 
 " If your cause is too bad, call in aid the party : if the party is bad, 
 call in aid the cause: if neither is good, wound the opponent." 
 
 " Admit, if you can with safety, what your opponent says, and show 
 it proves nothing. Men are more careful that what they say shall be 
 just, than that it shall be conclusive to the point. To admit, is good 
 sense ; to prove it nothing, is something more — it is just reasoning." 
 
 " Pre- consider what you mean shall be the finest part of your speech, 
 and, in speaking, connect it with what has incidentally fallen in debate ; 
 and when you come to that premeditated and finest part, hesitate and 
 appear to boggle, — catch at some expression that shall fall short of your 
 idea, and then seem at last to hit upon the true thing. This has always 
 an extraordinary effect, and gives the air of extempore genius to what 
 you say." 
 
 " Watch your opportunity, and speak after a person whose speaking 
 has been tiresome." 
 
 This is all sharp reasoning, and seems uncommonly 
 instilled into the House of Commons' oratory. And as 
 for shifting, changing sides, he says — 
 
 " Every obligation ceases when it becomes impossible." 
 
 Only persuade yourself of the impossibility of carrying 
 the measures of your party, and you may go to the other 
 side ! How many M.P/s, think you, have been taught 
 by this " Parliamentary Logic ?" 
 
 Have you read any of Alfieri's works ? What an ano- 
 malous mental frame this man had. He passed a most 
 dissipated youth— even, indeed, as far as middle age ; and 
 passed through it ignorant of literature, and unambitious 
 of knowledge. He was always of a fierv temperament s 
 Q 2 
 
344 
 
 impatient of the shadow of all controul, and devoted to the 
 liberty of mankind, in thinking, in theory. And yet at 
 forty he began to study, and studied most diligently and 
 with painful exertion, and succeeded, so as to write the 
 best tragedies of Italy. And although his nature was pas- 
 sionate in every thing, these tragedies are the severest in 
 style and sentiment — more coldly classic, than any quiet 
 man could be expected to write in these modern days. 
 He was devoted, without any affectation, to the free and 
 great minds of Greece and Rome, and to generous and 
 bold aspirations for liberty everywhere ; and yet, when 
 the French Revolution came, he hated the movement 
 with an intensity and bitterness as little to be expected 
 of him, as the most sober tragedy could be expected 
 from the most headlong and impetuous debauchee. . . . 
 He loved women with generous warmth and enduring 
 constancy, and yet never married. He kept, during 
 his life, though at different times, several women, 
 chiefly other men's wives, and yet behaved to them 
 all with admirable gentleness and constancy, feeling 
 always the liveliest devotion and affection ; and in no 
 case but one, abandoned them, and that was a pain, an 
 affliction to him : its cause was, her dissoluteness and 
 degrading vices. All this is the most singular and 
 astonishing exhibition I ever read. I have here given 
 you the summary of his life, as quoted more fully in 
 the 30th number of the Edinburgh Review. 
 
 CLXXVIT. 
 
 January I, 1846. 
 There is some significance in this date: -I wish you 
 joy of it, at all events. I have been dipping again into 
 Lady Mary W. Montague's letters. She appears to 
 have had enough of private troubles to have made her 
 sincere and sympathising towards other persons, but yet 
 she displayed very little of charity towards other beings 
 in like distress. Her letters to her husband, during 
 twenty years, seem cold and empty things. Not a word 
 is there of their great interests. It is a puzzle to know 
 why they separated, and yet corresponded so constantly, 
 and always without an object. Such cold-blooded ani- 
 
345 
 
 mals I cannot endure. Not a spark of nature, not a 
 warm expression even, for what has been, or for what 
 will come to pass, is to be traced in these parents of a 
 family of dependent children. No doubt he was a diffi- 
 cult man, hard to be pleased ; no doubt, too, she was a 
 vain woman, fond over-much of public admiration. She 
 was not vicious, however. Only think of Pope's vanity 
 in trying to lead her astray ! I like the easy way in which 
 she put him by, and quizzed him. I believe this to be 
 the root of his antipathy afterwards. 
 
 How do you like this philosophy of the Times? — 
 
 " It is not often that the old year has given way to the new with so 
 sure a promise that the change of date would be a substantial change of 
 times. This year has an auspicious coincidence : the days begin at once 
 to lengthen, and a new light to dawn upon the fortunes of man. We are 
 turning the corner of a great impediment and an ancient prejudice. 
 The winter is the season of rest, of recollection, and design. We may 
 think now awhile on what next to bestow the labour of our hands, or the 
 still more grievous anxieties of heart and mind. The impetuous current 
 of human affairs seems to slacken, that we may pause and survey. But 
 the natural breaks of time are little more than the steps of a slowly upward 
 
 career We are now entering on a year which cannot fail to be 
 
 distinct and memorable— a year which History will mark for her own, 
 and gather upon her starry zone, when vulgar times are forgotten. Well 
 then does it behove the great actors of this glorious scene to act their 
 parts simply, nobly — to be courageous and single-minded, and, what- 
 ever be their success for the time, to make sure that witnessing and 
 
 admiring ages shall detect no moral flaw Do just, and fear not, 
 
 we say to our rulers. Do what you think right, and neither smoothe 
 your words, nor cut down your intentions to the level of sordid and 
 narrow-minded men." 
 
 These words, I think, are written in a fine generalizing 
 spirit; they are the expression of a deep thinker, of 
 great political foresight. To such a man, it should be 
 held as a profanation to mix among the heated partisans 
 of the day ; yet such is the anomaly of this world, he is 
 as unstable as the best of them. 
 
 How likest thou this mocking spirit ? — 
 
 " A cry of disappointment and indignation, such as would hardly be 
 
 endurable even if it were the momentary burst of the lowest rabble, is 
 
 become the customary language of many decent, orderly, and average 
 
 men. Gentlemen deeply interested in the preservation of order and 
 
346 
 
 confidence daily announce to us, with unfeigned terror and disgust, that 
 
 a traitor presides over the counsels of the Throne The great 
 
 Wizard of the State has puffed away in a moment the phantom of 
 Protection himself had conjured up. After the mind of a great and 
 powerful class had been cherished and cushioned in the lap of Protection, 
 obedient to the spell of the Magician, the whole fabric falls to the ground. 
 All is void darknesss and blank disappointment. Such is the event, such 
 the lesson of the last year. Little as we may sympathize with these 
 unfortunates, we cannot deny, that they who make these public com- 
 plaints must have something like justice in their cause." 
 
 Oh, poor Tories ! and is it come to this, that we are to 
 pity you ? 
 
 Edward, my oldest boy now, goes to business to- 
 morrow, to take the place of poor George ; and he goes 
 with the greatest anxiety of his mother. She has the 
 moral courage to send him, and to contend against her 
 maternal fears, — " Why should we fear?" for though 
 the other poor fellow had but a short time allowed to 
 him, why may we not hope for lengthened days, for suc- 
 cessful issue, in this trial ? Her own position is full of 
 anxiety just now, and yet she bears up with a courage 
 superior to mine. It makes good the saying, that real 
 troubles are always easier to be borne than imaginary 
 ones. She has had a full measure of trials, and yet has 
 kept a trusting spirit, that strengthens under calamity. 
 Her religion is not of words, but of stedfastness, of love, 
 of confidence in God. It is consistent ; — even in the ten- 
 derest anxiety for her children's welfare, connected with 
 unwailing submission to God's decrees. She is a true 
 mother, and a true sister of the wise women of England. 
 
 January 3, 1846. 
 
 P. S. — I took the boy to town yesterday. His mother 
 said a few words to him — of her hopes in his good con- 
 duct, through his good sense ; and desired him to be 
 careful of his health in all things, for her sake. These 
 few words, backed by fast-flowing tears, pleaded more 
 eloquently than a volume of advice. Boys don't like 
 long speeches ; they wisely prefer to know your inten- 
 tion — your heart. Without knowing it, they are good 
 inductive reasoners. I saw the tears trickle down his 
 face, as we were driving up, and therefore spoke little to 
 him. His mother's imprint, then fixing, I thought of 
 
347 
 
 more importance. In his very young days, he was the 
 most passionate and wayward child we had ; but he has 
 grown out of this humour, and remains now a quick- 
 feeling and very generous boy. He has fine animal 
 spirits, which I hope to see grow into manly courage and 
 earnest determination to plead with the events of life, 
 and so strive for success as to be worthy of it. 
 
 CLXXVIII. 
 
 January 4, 1846. 
 I have been pleased, this morning, in reading the fol- 
 lowing witty observations of Lady Montague:— 
 
 " The English are easier infatuated than any other nation by the 
 prospect of universal medicines. I attribute it to the fund of credulity 
 which is in all mankind. We have no longer faith in miracles and 
 relics, and therefore, with the same fury, run after receipts and 
 physicians. The same money which was given for the health of the 
 soul, is now given for the health of the body, by the same sort of people 
 — women and half-witted men." 
 
 This is clever, and true of the nation now ; and exhibits 
 her mode of thinking well, and wherein she shone so 
 brightly. 
 
 In writing to her daughter, July 23, speaking of Lady 
 Orford, she says — 
 
 " To quote an old saying, ' Cowards more blows than any heroes 
 bear.' It is as certainly true, ladies of pleasure (improperly so called) 
 suffer more mortifications than any nun of the most austere order that 
 ever was instituted. The most submissive wife to the most tyrannic 
 husband is not such a slave as I saw her at Florence : contempt is 
 joined with intimacy in these cases, and there are few men who do not 
 indulge the malignity that is in human nature, when they can do it, as 
 they fancy, justifiably." 
 
 In another letter, she says — 
 
 !? I pity poor Lady D . No rich widow can marry on prudential 
 
 motives. If she thought justly, she would know that no man ever was 
 in love with a woman of forty, since the deluge at least. A boy may be 
 so ; but that blaze of straw only lasts till he is old enough to distin- 
 guish between youth and age. All she can hope is a cold complaisance, 
 founded on gratitude, the most uncertain of all foundations for a lasting 
 union." 
 
348 
 
 She was a true and blind lover of the aristocracy. Of 
 Swift and Pope she says— 
 
 " Both contemned the aristocracy. It is pleasant to consider, that, 
 had it not been for the good-nature of these very mortals, these two 
 superior beings were entitled by their birth and fortune to be only a 
 couple of link-boys." 
 
 So that you see, God has never made a gentleman, but 
 left the process to man's polish, or conviction. Perhaps 
 though, she means, He keeps a peculiar breed of noble 
 qualities in certain families. I confess, Swift and Pope 
 were no very bright examples of a noble nature ; but, even 
 as they were formed, they were an honour to a crowd of 
 the true breed. I am thankful we have also " turned 
 this ancient prejudice" very much. 
 
 ' Now here I will give you an example of one " entitled 
 by his birth and fortune " to be a gentleman — one of the 
 high breed ; and, because there is no need to go away 
 from her circle, I will take her own son : — 
 
 " He was remarkable for his eccentricities. He ran away from West- 
 minster School to become a chimney-sweeper ; and, when restored by 
 accident to his parents, he again left them to join himself to a fisher- 
 man ; after which he embarked as a cabin-boy for Spain, and hired 
 himself there as a servant to a muleteer. He was recovered, and placed 
 under a tutor, and With him visited the West Indies and other foreign 
 countries. On his return he was elected member of parliament, and 
 for a while conducted himself with all the propriety becoming his birth 
 and fortune ; but soon his fondness for novelty gained its usual ascend- 
 ancy, and he embarked for the East. At Constantinople he adopted the 
 habit and manners of the Turks : he kept a numerous seraglio of wives, 
 sat cross-legged, wore a long beard, and behaved with all the pomp 
 of Oriental consequence. In early life he had married a woman of 
 mean birth, with whom, however, he had never cohabited ; and hearing, 
 while at Constantinople, of her death, he determined, by a most extra- 
 ordinary plan, to alienate his property from his relations, against whom 
 he had a particular dislike. He caused therefore to be inserted in the 
 English newspapers an advertisement for a young woman as a wife 
 who was already advanced in pregnancy ; and a proper person was 
 accordingly provided. But before the romantic hero could return, thus 
 to impose on the world his false heir, death arrested his purposes. He 
 died aged 62. He was the author of some works which possess some 
 merit ; and he contributed some interesting papers to the Philosophical 
 Transactions." — See Lempriere , s Biographical Dictionary. 
 
349 
 
 Can any reasonable being say, that the native qualities 
 of the mind, whether good or bad, are confined to any 
 class ? Education, in its general sense, is the key to the 
 enlightened man. Birth and fortune have nothing to do 
 with the elementary principles of the spirit. There is 
 something in physical breeding, but nothing in mental 
 descent. 
 
 CLXXIX. 
 
 January 5, 1 846. 
 1 have been nearly all day reading a Unitarian con- 
 troversy ; and I suppose I may say, it includes nearly 
 all the merits of the dispute. At all events, the dispu- 
 tants in this case seem clever men, and well informed 
 upon the subject, so far as man's knowledge can give 
 information. The great impediment to proof lies in the 
 looseness of the Bible terms ; there is no strict definition 
 of sense there ; and how, then, can strict conclusion be 
 arrived at ? As an argument, I think it ably managed ; — 
 they kept closely to the point in issue, and agreed before- 
 hand their texts, and took the Scriptures as the sole 
 authority, both admitting them to be divine. I give you 
 the postulates of the parties: — 
 
 l* Mr. Porter's Propositions. 
 
 " There is one self-existent God, 
 the Father ; who is God alone, to 
 the entire exclusion of the alleged 
 proper Deity of the Word. 
 
 The Lord Jesus Christ, the Son 
 of God, is (even in his highest capa- 
 city, nature, or condition) a created 
 Being, deriving his existence, wis- 
 dom, power, and authority, from 
 the Father ; and inferior to him in 
 these and all other attributes." 
 
 Mr. Bagot's Propositions. 
 
 " There is one God, Jehovah; 
 who is God only, to the entire 
 exclusion of the alleged godhead 
 of every creature. 
 
 The Lord Jesus Christ, the Medi- 
 ator, is the Word made flesh, perfect 
 God and perfect man; possessing, 
 as the Word, the same eternity, 
 knowledge, power, authority, pre- 
 rogative, and godhead with the 
 Father, and one with him in all his 
 attributes." 
 
 Thus you will see they started fairly, and defined their 
 course well. It happens, however, so far as I can see, 
 that both prove their cases admirably, if only their read- 
 ing be the right one. What one proves by one text, the 
 q 5 
 
350 
 
 other disproves by another ; simply because no one knows 
 the intention of the original words taken as a whole, and 
 perhaps also, in a lesser sense, because we do not know 
 enough of the spirit of oriental language. 
 
 The great difference seems to me to consist in the Tri- 
 nitarians reading too literally, and the Unitarians with 
 too much reference to man's judgment, in what they 
 believe to be God's words. The strong point of the 
 Unitarians is man's strength of mind ; and that of the 
 Trinitarians is the absolute truth of the written word. 
 Both are compelled, however, to read as if the sense was 
 not fixed, so many passages appear to conflict. 
 
 I am surprised to see that the Churchman keeps his 
 temper best, and argues more to the point; his per- 
 suasion is more fixed. The other has to lean on man's 
 deduction from terms that do not seem very definite to 
 himself. The one understands Scripture with some re- 
 serve, the other without any. This great advantage has 
 come to me herefrom, — I shall never more give myself 
 any trouble about the question. There is no possibility 
 of arriving at any certain conclusion, even from Scripture 
 alone ! 
 
 In reading Lady Montague's Letters, notice the pub- 
 lic examination of the betrothed, in the baths of Constan- 
 tinople. The Turks do not make the same unmeaning 
 thing of the question, " If any of you know any just 
 cause or impediment, &c." With them it is a searching 
 inquiry. Lady Montague says afterwards, u If it was 
 the custom to exhibit the body, very little attention would 
 be paid to the face." Hannah More says, on the con- 
 trary, " A woman's power lies in her veil ; the imagin- 
 ation of the man is every thing; exposure is always 
 dangerous." How hold you ? 
 
 CLXXX. 
 
 January 6, 1846. 
 
 There is a good article in the 30th number of the 
 
 Edinburgh Review on " Female Education," which I 
 
 would recommend you to read, and to distribute among 
 
 your friends. It was written in 1810, but still the com- 
 
351 
 
 plaint is applicable over a wide field of the popular edu- 
 cation of this day. He says — 
 
 " A century ago the education of women was chiefly in housewifery ; 
 now it is for accomplishments. The one great evil of this is, that the 
 effect is not enduring. If we spent our lives in parties, in these displays, 
 there would be some reason ; but, in fact, the object of these accomplish- 
 ments is merely the provision for the little interval between coming 
 into life and settling in it : it leaves a long and dreary expanse behind, 
 devoid of all useful guidance. No woman, no mother, who has passed 
 over the few first years of life, sings, dances, or paints, or plays on mu- 
 sical instruments. No woman of understanding can possibly conceive she 
 is doing justice to her children by such kind of education. The object 
 should be, to give children resources that will endure as long as life 
 endures — habits that will ameliorate, not destroy — occupations that 
 will make solitude pleasant, and age venerable ; instead of which we 
 seem to prefer a short-lived blaze, a little temporary effect, the general 
 consequence of which is, to deprive the remainder of life of all taste 
 
 and relish We would appeal to any man, whether a little spirited 
 
 and useful conversation, evincing rational curiosity, is not well worth 
 the highest exertions of any mere physical accomplishment. A woman 
 may enliven a party for an hour ; but a mind full of ideas, and with 
 that elastic spring which the love of knowledge conveys, is a perpetual 
 source of exhilaration to all that come within its reach. It diffuses a 
 calm pleasure over existence— better loved as it is longer felt — and 
 
 suitable to every variety and every period of life But if these 
 
 objects are of the importance which we attribute to them, the education 
 of woman is important ; for the formation of the character of her chil- 
 dren seems, at least in early life, almost entirely to depend on the 
 mother. It is certainly in the power of a sensible and well educated 
 mother to inspire such tastes and propensities as shall early decide the 
 destiny of the future man ; perhaps, too, not more by the intentional 
 exertions of the mother than by the gradual and insensible imitations of 
 the child. There is something extremely contagious in greatness and 
 rectitude of thinking, even at a very early age One of the great- 
 est pleasures of life is conversation; and this pleasure is enhanced by 
 every increase of knowledge. It gives fecundity of thought, quickness, 
 
 vigour, words, images, and illustrations ; it decorates everything 
 
 Another useful consequence of knowledge is, the respect and importance 
 it communicates to age. Women hazard everything upon one cast of 
 the die;— when youth is gone, all is gone. No human creature gives 
 his admiration for nothing; either the eye must be charmed, or the 
 understanding gratified. A woman must talk wisely, or look well. No 
 man mourns over the fragments of a dancer, or drops a tear over the relics 
 
352 
 
 of musical skill. They are flowers destined to perish. But even the decay 
 of great talent is always the subject of solemn pity ; — when their last 
 memorial is over, their ruins and vestiges are regarded with pious affec- 
 tion Nor is it only in the business of education that women would 
 
 influence the destiny of man. If women knew more, men would learn 
 more ; for ignorance would then be shameful, and it would become the 
 fashion to be instructed. They would therefore improve the stock of 
 national talent, and increase the pleasures of society, by multiplying 
 the topics upon which the two sexes take a common interest ; and 
 make marriage an intercourse of the understanding as well as of the 
 affections." 
 
 CLXXXI. 
 
 January 9, 1846. 
 In the Edinburgh Review for February, 1811, you 
 may see a good picture of the Hindoos' Pantheon, which 
 is interesting to us, as exhibiting man's foot-prints in the 
 course of ages. The Indian worship seems to have been 
 earlier, as a system, than that of Egypt. The use of 
 images for the purpose of heightening devotion was 
 their custom. The Osiris of the Egyptians seems the 
 same god, to have the same attributes, as Iswara, the 
 working and present god of the Hindoos. There were 
 superior gods, or principles, for both people ; and one 
 Great Cause— always a Trinity. In like manner, too, as 
 Isis was the consort of Osiris, so was Isa that of Iswara: 
 the Nile and the Ganges were alike typical or typified 
 as the prolific mother. See now the theogony of the 
 Brahmins : — 
 
 " One great and incomprehensible Being existed from all eternity. 
 Everything we behold, and we ourselves, are portions of Him. The soul, 
 mind, or intellect of God and Man, and of all sentient creatures, are 
 detached portions of the Universal Soul, to which, at stated periods, they 
 are destined to return. Our individuality is an illusion. It considers 
 itself as a separate existence, and no longer a spark of the Divinity, a link 
 of one immeasurable chain, an infinitely small but indispensable portion 
 of one great whole." 
 
 This is exactly the new theory of the German meta- 
 physics. 
 
 " The first created beings were the Hindu Triad,— Brahma, Visnu, and 
 Iswara. The first was the Creator ; the second, the Preserver ; the third, 
 
35B 
 
 the Destroyer, — not in its vulgar sense, but as renovator and imitator of 
 form — the destruction of that which precedes. Hence the phallus, the 
 emblem of production, becomes that of the god of destruction. From 
 his own substance the Divine Being, the Trinity, then formed the god- 
 dess Pracriti, or Nature. She is the consort of the Trinity, who govern 
 the universe. As the wife of Brahma, she is the mother of mind — of 
 expression and harmony ; as the wife of Visnu, the mother of abund- 
 ance and of fertility ; as the wife of Iswara, the mother of intellectual 
 strength, of mind over matter. These were the gods produced by the 
 Deity. All other beings were produced by Brahma. He was the 
 father of the kings of Hindostan. Menu was the first king ; as Menes 
 was of the Egyptians. Ha, daughter of Menu, married the high-priest 
 Budha, priest of Iswara." . . . . " One inference," the Editor continues, 
 " important to all students, is the perfect coincidence of the Indian 
 and Egyptian traditions relative to the foundation of their monarchical 
 governments. We cannot tell, indeed, how and where they diverge. . . 
 What a remarkable proof is the division into castes, which prevailed in 
 both countries. There were four — learning, military service, agriculture, 
 and the mechanical arts. The deification of their heroes succeeded that 
 of their ancient gods ; they became in time confounded with them." 
 
 Their mystic tales always elucidated principles, and 
 were well understood as such by their priests, though 
 not by the people : — 
 
 " Ganges was originally a nymph of wonderful beauty, who inhabited 
 Paradise. She fell in love with Brahma, and dissolved into a river ; she 
 was the mother of the Sea." 
 
 " The nymph Sobha (beauty), for the same cause, was divided among 
 gems, flowers, and black-eyed damsels." 
 
 " The fair Xama (patience), likewise, was dispersed, part among the 
 pious anchorets, a portion on the sick, another on the studious." 
 
 How do you read these passages ?— 
 
 " Brahma was born into the world again ; being the son of Saturn, 
 king of Crete, and of his wife Rhea." 
 
 The Greeks, you know, copied the Egyptian worship 
 almost literally, except the names. Plutarch says, 
 
 " At the birth of Osiris, a voice was heard, announcing that the Lord 
 of all was come into the world." 
 
 What said Solomon? "There is nothing new under 
 the sun." 
 
 " We have hazarded the assertion," says the Editor, " that the 
 mythology of all civilized nations of antiquity was susceptible of 
 
354 
 
 elucidation from a collation with that of the Hindus. . . . Zoroaster, the 
 reformer of the Persian religion, unquestionably lived in the reign of 
 Darius Hystaspes. He contended against the Magi, who had degraded 
 their fine allegories into a base superstition ; he replaced the mind in its 
 power, and joined purity of intention and active goodness to the need of 
 public worship and obedience." 
 
 This is the origin of the fire worship of Persia : — 
 
 " One day the King, Hushong, retired to the mountains. Something 
 appeared in the distance, of enormous magnitude, black, tremendous, and 
 glossy. Its two eyes seemed fountains of blood ; the smoke which 
 issued from its mouth obscured the air. The prudent Hushong con- 
 templated it circumspectly ; he seized a stone, and prepared to assail it. 
 He threw it with the force of a hero— and the serpent no longer annoyed 
 the world. The stone struck upon a rock, and both fell to pieces by 
 the percussion. A brilliant flame sprung from the contact ; and thus 
 fire became the production of stone. The king prostrated himself before 
 God, and offered devout supplications for having thus obtained the 
 sacred fire, for which he erected a sanctuary on that spot. He said, 
 ' This fire is a divinity ; let it be worshipped by all.' Night came — the 
 mountain was covered with fire," &c. 
 
 Every word is significant here ; and, in a striking alle- 
 gory, exhibits, with peculiar precision, the encroachments 
 of animal passion, " huge, black, and glossy ;" the spirit 
 of man overcoming it by the force of his soul ; and then, 
 how this spirit of man, when urged in accordance with 
 the will of God, exhibits a bright flame for ever, worthy 
 of all honour, preservation, and sanctity. Though night — 
 intellectual darkness — again comes on, still, wherever 
 this fire is, this spirit kept alive in the soul — there 
 shall be light indeed, and God indeed. 
 
 Even this simple definition has good teaching in it : — 
 
 " The Indian Menu, founder of the first kingdom, was the offspring 
 of the Sun, or Savita. His name is derived from the root, man, think ; 
 and signifies a thinking being. Man is called Manava in Sanscrit, a 
 patronymic derived from Menu. The word man in Gothic and English 
 has manifestly the same origin." 
 
 See this ancient name of the Eternal: — 
 
 " One awful and mysterious monosyllable comprises the name of the 
 Hindu Triad. Two vowels, A and U, typify Brahma and Visnu. By 
 the rules delivered by the Sanscrit grammarians, to preclude cacophony, 
 
355 
 
 these coalesce in 0. M denotes Iswara. The mysterious monosyllable 
 therefore, carefully concealed from profane ears, is OM." 
 
 All religion is a continuation of, and seems grounded 
 upon, the fear of the undue growth of animal power. It is 
 an endeavour to lift mankind out of the "lusts of the flesh" 
 into the region of the soul — to where the spirit acts; 
 and to teach order, probity, purity, obedience — goodness. 
 No teaching of direct purpose has ever been thought 
 sufficient to effect this. The teachers have resorted to 
 the wonderful, the awful,— through fable and allegory, to 
 allure the wild nature and evil-directed spirit of the 
 people. As education advances, so will the spirit of our 
 teaching. Moses' attempt to lead the people of Israel 
 into a simpler and greater worship of God, failed only 
 because the spirit he acted upon was unenlightened by 
 education. He tried the effect, and forgot the cause; 
 he taught wisdom before he enlightened the understand- 
 ing. That saying, that no man can believe in God but 
 by faith first given of God, is true; for the mind must 
 be first fitted to receive this knowledge ; and you know, 
 " All that is given, is given of God." 
 
 CLXXXII. 
 
 January 11, 1846. 
 
 Would a man be very bold to say, that Jesus knew all 
 the old mythologies of the world, their great and leading 
 feature, the sovereignty of spirit ; — that he knew this 
 intention, and taught it more directly ; that he disdained 
 to use a fable, but taught it boldly, as being the very 
 spirit of God ? He acknowledges the oneness of all intel- 
 ligence, He was of the Father, " I in Him, and He in 
 me." He was before the world was, being of that which 
 created all things; he was as nothing in his indivi- 
 duality, as distinct from the Father, but all things in 
 the fullness of the Godhead. He preached this, — that 
 soul was Eternity ; and man, not an emanation, but of 
 the substance of the Eternal One. And this is the my- 
 thology of the Egyptians and Hindoos. 
 
 How noble is the pleading in this sense, so teaching 
 the majesty of the divinity within us. This was the first 
 attempt we know of, of man's standing unaided, and 
 
B56 
 
 claiming for himself, and teaching, the majesty of 
 man's spirit, we being " the sons of God." He said, 
 I am Intellect, and I conquer the world — I am a 
 spirit, and I overcome all things ; and whoso will 
 follow in my steps shall sit with me in the kingdom 
 of heaven. And then see how he looked down on 
 man's ambition for the governance of his fellows, and 
 rather set up the ambition of developing his own soul. 
 How he lauded the spirit's labour ; what honour he paid 
 to man's righteousness ! How earnestly he pleaded for 
 the majesty of the soul, for its expansion and great aim, 
 being " one with God." In the old mythologies, they 
 tried to act rather upon the mass ; but he acted upon indi- 
 viduals, making every separate man the glory of himself 
 by conformity to the will of God. Excepting Emerson 
 and Channing, I know of no author who has put this 
 power of Jesus before the world. Other teachers point 
 alone to his mediation ; but these men exhibit the teach- 
 ing of Jesus as desiring to develope the man, as encou* 
 raging the growth of his soul. 
 
 To-day I have heard one of our Church's doctrinal 
 sermons, upon man's utter un worthiness — the poverty of 
 every thing he thinks, of every thing he does ; and yet 
 accompanied by the earnest call to do this worthless 
 work. Now, this is a mockery. If I can do no act 
 but what is vile, I may as well sit still ; but no, the 
 curse of a fruitless struggle is added. This man said, 
 u If redemption by Christ was out of the question, and 
 it depended upon our deeds for salvation, every man 
 would go to hell ; aye, if it remained only upon our 
 motives to deeds, upon our sincerity of general intention, 
 even in that case, they are so vile in the sight of God, 
 that our perdition could not be avoided." No Hindoo 
 myth is darker than this ; and none more contrary to 
 man's reason, of all the wild hypotheses of the most 
 benighted people of old. And yet he appealed to man's 
 reason against the absurdity of the Catholics in address- 
 ing God in Latin, though he knew the same veiling was 
 dictated by Moses in the ministerial acts of Aaron : — 
 the Jews could not even hear his voice. I hope you 
 have been more edified to-day than I have been by 
 our monitors. 
 
351 
 
 How do you like these sayings of Emerson's ?— - 
 " A poet should delight in the common influences of life — his cheer- 
 fulness should be the gift of sun-light. Only a great mind can love 
 simplicity with a true heart. We are like the hunted hare, — we return to 
 our starting point to die. We are never sincere till we can * rejoice and 
 be glad' with the very simplest elements of life." 
 
 " We struggle violently after what is always close to our right 
 hand." 
 
 Your quotation of the "transcendental and extraor- 
 dinary," is one of those bold metaphors peculiar to him 
 and Carlyle. They use a language that is not meant to 
 be read too literally; like that of Scripture, the mean- 
 ing is often beneath the surface. " Tipsy with water/' 
 expresses deep emotion through purity; but the mul- 
 titude will only laugh. " Possessing him like an insa- 
 nity," is another odd way of expressing the consolidation 
 of all thought into one train of reasoning. 
 
 clxxxiii. 
 
 January 13, 1846. 
 Of the second series of Emerson's Essays, I like the 
 " Poet" better than any one I have read. But then, 
 what a poet ! He makes him an imaginative logician ; 
 not many can fill up this definition. Surface sense, in 
 good harmony of words, is the general quality of our 
 poets, so far at least as I can understand them. With 
 him, poets must speak of the high signification of things. 
 He is so far an immaterialist as to see only the spirit of 
 a cart-wheel : its revolving exhibits to him the laws of 
 gravity, and the "round-about" of all the great facts of 
 life; its noise is expressive of man's passions, and has 
 about as much effect upon the motion as the passions of 
 men have upon God's over-ruling providence. He ap- 
 pears to think the differences of men's minds are only 
 working His one result, by a pre-ordained law. Our 
 individuality is nothing, but our whole is the Over-soul — 
 the act of God. 
 
 Of the poet he says — 
 
 " Mere amateurs have not the perception of the instant dependence 
 of form upon soul. The highest minds have never ceased to explore the 
 
358 
 
 double meaning, or, shall I say, the centuple meaning of every sensuous 
 fact. He stands among partial men for the complete man : he is repre- 
 sentative, and apprises us, not of his wealth, but of the common wealth. 
 For all men live by truth, and stand in need of expression. Notwith- 
 standing this necessity to be published, adequate expression is rare. We 
 need an interpreter ; we cannot report the conversation we have had with 
 Nature. Yet, in our experience, the rays or appulses have sufficient 
 force to arrive at the senses, but not enough to reach the quick, and 
 compel the reproduction of themselves in speech. The Poet is the man 
 to whom these powers are in balance — the man without impediment, who 
 sees and handles that which others dream of ; and is representative of 
 man, in virtue of having the largest power to receive and to impart. For 
 poetry was all written before time was ; and whenever we are so finely 
 organized, that we can penetrate into that region where the air is music, 
 we hear those primal warblings, and attempt to write them down ; but 
 we lose ever and anon a word, or a verse, and substitute something of 
 
 our own, and thus miswrite the poem Our poets are men of talents 
 
 who sing, and not the children of music. In the order of genius, the 
 thought is prior to the form, and has, like the spirit of a plant, an archi- 
 tecture of its own, and adorns nature with a new thing Such is 
 
 the hope, but the fruition is postponed Oftener, this winged man, 
 
 who will carry me into the heavens, whirls me into the clouds, then leaps 
 and frisks about with me from cloud to cloud, still affirming that he is 
 
 bound heavenward Nature offers all her creatures to him as a 
 
 picture-language. ' Things more excellent than every image' says 
 Tamblicus, ( are expressed through images.' All form is an effect of 
 character ; all condition, of the quality of life ; all harmony, of health. 
 The beautiful rests on the foundation of the necessary. The soul makes 
 the body. We stand before the secret of the world — there, where Being 
 passes into Appearance, and Unity into Variety." 
 
 " We are symbols, and inhabit symbols. Workmen, words and things, 
 birth and death, are all emblems ; but we sympathise with the symbols, 
 and being infatuated with the economical uses of things, we don't know 
 that they are thoughts The religions of the world are the ejacu- 
 lations of a few imaginative men. The history of hierarchies seems to 
 show, that all religious error consisted in making the symbol too stark 
 and solid, and, at last, nothing but an excess of the organ of language." 
 
 " The true poet," he says, " hears a voice, and sees a beckoning. 
 Then he is oppressed with wonder ; what herds of demons hem him in ! 
 He pursues a beauty, half-seen, which flies before him. By and bye, 
 he says something which is original and beautiful, which he knows not to 
 be his — which is as strange and beautiful to him as to you. Once 
 having tasted of this immortal ichor, he cannot have enough of it, and, 
 as an admirable creative power exists in these intellections, it is of the 
 last importance that these things get spoken. What a little of all we 
 
359 
 
 know is said ! Hence the necessity of speech and song ; hence those 
 throbs and heart-beatings in the orator, — to the end, namely, that 
 thoughts may be ejaculated as Logos, or Word." 
 
 And then read his counsel to the true man, however 
 infantine his speech now : — 
 
 " Doubt not, Poet, but persist. Stand there, baulked and dumb, 
 stuttering and stammering ; stand and strive, until at last rage shall draw- 
 out of thee that dream-power which every night shows thee is thine own, 
 —a power transcending all limit and privacy, and by virtue of which a 
 
 man is the conductor of a whole river of electricity Nothing 
 
 walks or creeps, or grows or exists, which must not in turn arise and walk 
 
 before him as the exponent of his meaning Thou shalt lie close 
 
 hid with Nature ; thou must pass for a fool or a churl for a long season. 
 This is the screen and sheath in which Pan has protected his well-beloved 
 flower. And this is thy reward, — that the ideal shall be the real to thee, 
 and the impressions of the actual world shall fall like summer rain to thy 
 invulnerable essence. Thou shalt have the whole land for thy park and 
 manor, the sea for thy bath and navigation ; the woods and the rivers 
 thou shalt own; and thou shalt possess that wherein others are only 
 tenants and boarders, — thou true land-lord, sea-lord, and air-lord ! 
 Wherever snow falls, or water flows, or birds fly ; wherever the blue 
 heaven is hung by cloud, or sown with stars ; wherever is danger, and 
 awe, and love, — there is Beauty, plenteous as rain, shed for thee ; and 
 though thou shouldest walk the world over, thou shalt not be able to find 
 a condition inopportune or ignoble." 
 
 These are great thoughts. " Such is the hope," indeed, 
 of a poet, " but the fruition is postponed." No man 
 has ever yet fulfilled this picture, in song or oratory ; 
 but no man but a true poet could ever draw this outline 
 of the true inspiration. 
 
 CLXXXIV. 
 
 January 16, 1846. 
 The next Essay, " Experience," is excellent. Who 
 was that genius that stood at the door by which we en- 
 tered life, and gave us the Lethe to drink, that we may 
 tell no tales ? Oh ! the old tales of the world, how full 
 of meaning they are ! Will another genius tender to us 
 another cup at our exit? I hope so. 
 
360 
 
 '" Every roof," he says, " is agreeable to the eye, until it is lifted ; 
 then we find tragedy, and mourning women, and deluges of Lethe, and 
 the men ask, ' What's the news \ ' " 
 
 " The history of literature," he says," is a sum of very few ideas. So 
 in this great society, wide-lying around us, a critical analysis would find 
 Very few spontaneous actions, — it is almost all custom and gross sense." 
 
 " To the true man," he says, " grief in experience is less formidable 
 than in its approach ; — Ate Dea is gentle, 
 
 " Over men's heads walking aloft, 
 With tender feet, treading so soft." 
 
 The description of the effect upon him of the death of 
 his son seems cold, but I cannot disprove a word, nor 
 know how to make more of it : — 
 
 " Something which I fancied was a part of me — which could not be 
 torn away without tearing me, nor enlarged without enlarging me, falls 
 off from me, and leaves no scar. It was caducous." 
 
 I confess I often feel astonished at the little effect upon 
 me of the death of my son George ; and his mother is 
 often uttering;, as if in self-reproach, " So soon to be for- 
 gotten ! " With Emerson I think — 
 
 " Excessive grief turns out to be scene-painting or counterfeit. The 
 dreariest events are summer rain, and we the para-coats that shed every 
 drop. Nature does not like to be observed in these final acts. Our 
 relations to each other are not interlaced, but casual and oblique. Dream 
 delivers us to dream, and there is no end to illusion." 
 
 There is some humour in the following passage : — 
 
 " I am thankful for small mercies. I expect nothing, and rejoice in 
 moderate goods. In the morning I awake, and find the old world — wife, 
 babies, and mother, country and native town, and the dear old spiritual 
 world, and even the dear old devil — not far off. If we take the good we 
 find, asking no questions, we shall have heaping measure. The great 
 gifts are not given by analysis. Everything good is on the highway. 
 We grow impatient of so public a life, and run hither and thither for 
 nooks and secrets. The mid world is best. Nature, as we know her, 
 is no saint. The lights of the church, Ascetics, Gentoos, and Grahamites, 
 she does not distinguish by any favour. Her darlings, the great, the 
 strong, are not children of our law, do not punctually keep the com- 
 mandments." 
 
 In another place he implies, our acts could forward 
 nothing: individually we are a nonentity; in the mass, 
 
361 
 
 we have no great object; so the need is, that God should 
 direct all : — 
 
 " Power keeps quite another road than the turnpike of choice 'and 
 will — namely, the subterranean and invisible tunnels and channels of life. 
 God delights to isolate us every day, and hide from us the past and the 
 future. We would look about us, but he draws down the impenetrable 
 screen of the pure sky. The ardours of piety agree at last with the coldest 
 scepticism, — that nothing is of us or* our works — that all is of God." 
 
 How striking is this ! — 
 
 " Most of life seems to be mere advertisement ; information is given 
 us that we are very great ; our tendency is of more consequence than 
 our actions. It is not what we believe of the immortality of the soul, but 
 the universal impulse to believe, — that is the material circumstance, and 
 is the principal fact in the history of the globe. Thus journeys the 
 mighty ideal before us ; it was never known to fall into the rear." 
 
 And he closes the over-arching vault of God's ac- 
 tion, which somehow he calls Experience, saying — 
 
 " I never despair ; since there never was a right endeavour but it 
 succeeded. In the solitude to which every man is always "returning, he 
 has a sanity and revelations, which, in his passage into new worlds, he 
 will carry with him. Never mind the ridicule, never mind the defeat ; 
 Up again, old heart! it seems to say — there is victory yet for all justice ; 
 and the true romance, which the world exists to realize, will be the trans- 
 formation of genius into practical power ; " — we are builders only as we 
 comply with the plan of the great Architect. 
 
 The Essay on " Character" opens thus : — 
 
 " Our greatest men seem to be men of few deeds, and not of much 
 speech, and yet their influence has been great on the general mass. 
 Character has taught the age." 
 
 " It is conceived of as a certain undemonstrable force, by whose im- 
 pulses the man is guided, but whose counsels he cannot impart. Man 
 ordinarily a pendant to events, only half attached, and that awkwardly, 
 to the world he lives in, in these examples appears to share the life of 
 things, and to be an expression of the same laws which control the tides 
 and the sun, numbers and quantity." 
 
 And then he continues — 
 
 " The reason why this man or that man is fortunate, is not to be told. 
 It lies in him ; that is all that any body can tell about it. He has the 
 habit of fronting the fact, and not dealing with it at second hand, through 
 the perceptions of somebody else ;"— he exercises the ordained means. 
 
 
362 
 
 " Truth is the summit of being ; justice is the application of it to 
 affairs. All individual natures stand in a scale, according to the purity 
 of this element in them. This natural force is no more to be withstood 
 than any other natural force. All things exist in the man, tinged with 
 the manners of the soul. Thus, men of character are the conscience 
 of the society to which they belong." 
 
 See this contrast: — 
 
 " Feeble souls look at the profit or hurt of the action. They never 
 behold a principle until it is lodged in a person. They do not wish 
 to be lovely, but to be loved. They worship events. The hero sees 
 that the event is ancillary ; it must follow him;" 
 
 CLXXXV. 
 
 January 18, 1846. 
 
 Your mistake as to the superiority of the aristocracy 
 arises from your confusing mental and animal qualities. 
 Your example of the horse is worse than bad proof; it 
 proves my case. You may easily prove the superiority 
 of form, or perhaps it should be said, difference of form ; 
 but I should be glad to see your argument for supe- 
 riority of natural intelligence. Manners go for nothing: 
 they are clearly taught. From the consequences of all 
 education, there is no preference to be given to any 
 class. The rjerm of intelligence is equally divided among 
 all classes. I admit no severance by design of God, and 
 particularly none in the intellect. Whatever distinction 
 there is, may be traced to food, exercise, habits, and the 
 artificial amenities of life. 
 
 I saw these words of Schiller's, in a Cape of Good 
 Hope newspaper yesterday. If those exported ladies 
 and gentlemen are amused after this fashion, I congra- 
 tulate their good taste. 1 suppose the native breed are 
 hardly arrived at this class of familiar reading : — 
 
 " Man is made free ! Man by birthright is free, 
 
 Though the tyrant may deem him but born for his tool. 
 
 Whatever the shout of the rabble may be — 
 Whatever the ranting misuse of the fool — 
 
 Still fear not the slave, when he breaks from his chain ; 
 
 For the man made a freeman grows safe in his gain. 
 
And Virtue is more than a shade or a sound, 
 
 And man may her voice, in this being, obey ; 
 And though ever he slip on the stony ground, 
 
 Yet ever again to the god-like way, — 
 To the science of good, though the wise may be blind, 
 
 Yet the practice is plain to the child-like mind. 
 
 And a God there is ! over space, over time — 
 
 While the human will rocks, like a reed, to and fro— 
 
 Lives the Will of the Holy— a purpose sublime, 
 A thought woven over creation below ; 
 
 Changing and shifting the All we inherit, 
 But changeless through all,— .One immutable Spirit." 
 
 I should like to direct your attention to Emerson's 
 Essay, " Nature." I think the following passage re- 
 markable, though not many will understand its speak- 
 ing:— ■ 
 
 " At the gate of the forest, the surprised man of the world is forced to 
 leave his city estimates of great and small, wise and foolish. The knap- 
 sack of custom falls off his back with the first step he makes into these 
 precincts. The incommunicable trees begin to persuade us to live with 
 them, and quit our life of solemn trifles. How easily we might walk 
 onward, absorbed by new pictures, and by thoughts fast succeeding each 
 other, until by degrees the recollection of home is crowded out of the 
 mind, and we are led in triumph by Nature. He who knows the most 
 — he who knows what sweets and virtues are in the ground, the waters, 
 the plants, the heavens, and how to come at these enchantments— is the 
 rich and royal man." 
 
 Again he says — 
 
 " Man is fallen : Nature is erect, and serves as a differential ther- 
 mometer, detecting the presence or absence of the divine sentiment in 
 man. The difference between landscape and landscape is little; but 
 
 there is a great difference in the beholders But Nature may be 
 
 as selfishly studied as trade. Astronomy becomes astrology to the sel- 
 fish ; psychology, mesmerism ; and anatomy and physiology become 
 phrenology and palmistry." 
 
 The Essay on " Politics" deals with the highest prin- 
 ciples of man's governance: — 
 
 " Institutions," he says, " are not aboriginal, though they existed before 
 we were born ; they are not superior to the citizen. Every law was a 
 man's expedient to meet a particular case ; they are all imitable, all alter- 
 
364 
 
 able Society is an illusion to a young citizen. It lies before him 
 
 in rigid repose, rooted like oak trees. But the old statesman knows that 
 
 society is fluid The wise man knows that foolish legislation is a 
 
 rope of sand, which perishes in the twisting. They only who build on 
 ideas, build for eternity. . . . The form of government which prevails, 
 is the expression of what cultivation exists in the population which per- 
 mits it ; so much life as it has in the character of living men, is its force. 
 .... The history of the state sketches in coarse outline the progress 
 of thought, and follows at a distance the delicacy of culture and of 
 aspiration." 
 
 In another Essay I meet the following remarkable 
 passages: — 
 
 " All the agents we deal with are subalterns, which we can well afford 
 to let pass ; and life will be simpler, when we live at the centre, and flout 
 the surfaces. There is a power over and behind us. We seek to say 
 thus and so, and over our heads some spirit sits, which contradicts what 
 we say. It rewards actions after their nature, and not after the design 
 of the agent. ' Work,' it saith to man, ' in every hour, paid or unpaid ; 
 see only that thou work, and thou canst not escape the reward ; no 
 matter how often defeated, you are born to victory." 
 
 " As soon as a man is wont to look beyond surfaces, and to see how 
 this high will prevails without an exception or an interval, he settles him- 
 self into serenity. Let a man fall into the divine circuit, and he is 
 enlarged. We work, to escape from dejection and a sense of inferiority. 
 It is quite in vain : only by obedience to his genius — only by the freest 
 activity in the way constitutional to him, does an angel seem to arise 
 before a man, and lead him by the hand out of all the wards of the 
 prison." 
 
 " That which befits us ? is cheerfulness and courage, and the endea- 
 vour to realize our aspirations. The life of man is the true romance, 
 which, when it is valiantly conducted, will yield the imagination a higher 
 joy than any fiction. All around us, what powers are wrapped up under 
 the coarse mattings of custom, and all wonder prevented ! It is so won- 
 derful to our neurologists, that a man can see without his eyes, that it 
 does not occur to them that it is just as wonderful that he should see 
 with them ; and that is ever the difference between the wise and the un- 
 wise ; the latter wonders at what is unusual, the wise man at what k 
 Usual." 
 
365 
 
 CLXXXVI. 
 
 January 22, 3846. 
 I have just been reading the " Life of Fichte." He 
 was one of those odd beings who, under right inten- 
 tions, are always in discord with surrounding circum- 
 stances; one of those beings who never fit in well with 
 society. He had indomitable courage and pertinacity, 
 and an excellent opinion of himself; perhaps this made 
 him difficult to be dealt with. He was, however, a good 
 son, an excellent husband, and always of high moral 
 worth. In writing to his betrothed, and speaking of his 
 difficulties in early life — of which, indeed, he had a host — 
 he says — 
 
 " Providence either has something else in store for me, and hence 
 will give me nothing to do here, as indeed has been the case, or intends 
 by these troubles to exercise and invigorate me still farther." 
 
 Here the key of success, of all success, is manifested ; 
 this patient courage, and this faith in a superintending 
 will, is man's surety. " No matter how often defeated/' 
 as Emerson says, " you are born to victory." 
 
 Of a project for engaging him in the ministry, he thus 
 writes : — 
 
 " I know my opinions. I am neither of the Lutheran nor Reformed 
 Church, but of the Christian ; and were T compelled to choose, I should 
 (since no purely Christian community exists) attach myself to that 
 community in which there is most freedom of thought and charity of 
 life ; and that is not the Lutheran, I think." 
 
 In writing to his future wife, at another time, on reli- 
 gion, he says — 
 
 " The surest means of acquiring a conviction of a life after death, is 
 to act in this life so that we can venture to wish for another. He who 
 has sacrificed so much for virtue that he looks for recompense in a future 
 life, needs no proof of the reality of such a life ; he does not believe it — 
 he feels it. And thou, dear companion for this short life and for eternity, 
 we shall strengthen each other in this conviction, not by arguments, but 
 by deeds." 
 
 I call this good « sweet-hearting," 
 
 n 
 
866 
 
 After long struggling, this man became the leading 
 teacher of Germany ; he worked his way there alone, 
 and unaided but by his merits. The King of Prussia 
 gave him a commission to rebuild the form of university 
 education, and to institute a university in Berlin. This 
 was the crown of his ambition. It was completed in 
 1807. 
 
 " Its chief feature," says the Editor, " was its perfect unity of purpose, 
 the complete subordination of every branch of instruction to the one 
 great object of all teaching, — not the inculcation of opinion, but the 
 spiritual culture and elevation of the individual. ... It was thus a 
 school for the scientific use of the understanding, in which positive or 
 historical knowledge was to be looked upon only as a vehicle of in- 
 struction, not as the ultimate end. Spiritual independence, intellectual 
 strength, moral dignity, — these were the great ends to the attainment of 
 which every thing else was but a means." 
 
 He adds, that — 
 
 " Fichte died as he had lived,— the priest of knowledge, the apostle of 
 freedom, the martyr of humanity. No man of his time, perhaps of any 
 time, exercised a more powerful, spirit-stirring influence over the minds 
 of his fellow-countrymen. The impulse which he communicated to the 
 national thought extended far beyond the sphere of his personal influ- 
 ence ; — it has awakened, it will awaken, high emotion and manly 
 resolution in thousands who never heard his voice. The ceaseless effort 
 of his life was to rouse men to a sense of the divinity of their own nature — 
 to fix their thoughts upon a spiritual life as the only true and real life — to 
 teach them to look upon all else as mere show and unreality, and thus 
 to lead them to constant efforts after the highest ideal of purity, virtue, 
 independence, and self-denial." 
 
 Of this man, Carlyle says — 
 
 " He was a colossal, adamantine spirit, standing erect and clear, like 
 a Cato Major among degenerate men ; fit to have been a teacher of the 
 S(oa, and to have discoursed of beauty and virtue in the groves of the 
 Academe." \ 
 
 I should like to have given you a synopsis of his par- 
 ticular system of ethics ; but I find it too long, abbre- 
 viate it as I may, at least to convey to you the outline 
 within the limits of your patience. Can you gather any- 
 thing from this hotchpotch of mine ? — 
 
367 
 
 " But although we are immediately conscious that our will, our moral 
 activity, must lead to consequences beyond itself, yet we cannot know 
 what those consequences may be, nor how they are possible. In respect 
 to the nature of these results, the present life is, in relation to the future, 
 a life of faith. In the future life we shall possess these results ; and thus 
 the future will be, in relation to the present, a life of light. This life is 
 the beginning of our being : the outward work is freely given to us as a 
 firm ground on which we may commence our course ; the future life is 
 its continuance, for which we must create a starting period in the present. 
 By free determination, in the effort after moral perfection, we have laid 
 hold of eternal life. Our faith in dut}*-, and in the objects of duty, is 
 only faith in Him, in His wisdom, in His truth. He is thus the Creator 
 and Sustainer of all things ; for in Him alone, above all thronging 
 forms which people our dream of life, e we live, and move, and have our 
 being.'. ... He is the One Being— the I am ; — for whom reason has 
 no idea, and language no name. Sublime and living Will, compassed 
 by no thought, I may raise my soul to Thee ; for Thou and I are not 
 divided. Thou art best known to the childlike, devoted, simple 
 heart; Thou workest in me the knowledge of my duty, of my vocation 
 in this world — how, I know not, nor need I to know. . . . Only from 
 our idea of duty, and our faith in the invincible consequences of moral 
 action, arises the belief in a principle of general order in the world ;— 
 and this principle is God. . . . The Deity is thus not an object ot 
 knowledge, but of faith — not to be approached by the understanding, 
 but by the moral sense — not to be conceived of, but to be felt." 
 
 He continues — 
 
 " The great fault of man is, that he will impersonate the Deity ; 
 always give a substance to spirituality ; and make comparisons of finite 
 sense, to the infinity of the Jehovah." . . .' s . . " Consciousness be- 
 comes the manifestation — the self-revelation of the absolute — and this 
 only. And thus Idealism assumes the form of a sublime and perfected 
 Realism." 
 
 "From this point of view," the Editor says — 
 
 — " Fichte now looked out on human life and action, and saw in it no 
 longer the peculiarities of the individual, but the harmonious although 
 diversified manifestation of the one idea of universal being, the infinitely 
 varied forms under which God becomes manifest in the flesh." 
 
 In all this, in every word of this, there is the consist- 
 ency and spirit of Christ's teaching : his faith means the 
 same thing, his definition of the Deity is the same por- 
 trait, and his knowledge of his providence is painted in 
 the same effect. Such is the circle of metaphysics. 
 s 2 
 
m 
 
 CLXXXVII. 
 
 January 22, 1845. 
 Indulge me by reading "The Lost Cause of Protec- 
 tion," in the second page of yesterday's Times. It is 
 full of good sense. You will also see a quotation from 
 the Prussian Universal Gazette in the same paper, wor- 
 thy the attention of your country gentlemen. It says — 
 
 " The Protective men affirm, that half the corn lands in the kingdom 
 would be thrown out of cultivation, if the duties are taken off. To all 
 this a short but decided answer may be returned, What effect has all 
 this agitation and impending abolition upon the value of land in Eng- 
 land ? Its value has never been higher than at the present moment. 
 The landed proprietors know full well, that in a densely populated 
 country like England, small in extent, but colossal in wealth, the value 
 of land regularly rises, without reference to the price of an individual 
 production of the soil. Assuming the very worst contingency, -viz., that 
 rent may be reduced, the landed proprietor would only be placed in the 
 same position as the fundholder ; he would have relatively a large 
 capital, although the annual income has been reduced." 
 
 and, he might have added, more power to purchase the 
 necessaries and conveniences of life with the diminished 
 rent, than with the larger amount before collected. 
 
 But oh, what a switch the Editor of the Times uses 
 upon your friend Lord Ashburton ! At least, to indulge 
 me, do read the " leader" on the Hants Agricultural 
 Society. The wit cannot but delight you, however you 
 may wince from sympathy; — it is an Irishman's fun 
 with his shillalah ! 
 
 But is it not somewhat unkind of Sir Robert to an- 
 swer the Duke of Richmond so rudely ? To the simple 
 assertion on the part of the Duke, " We have placed 
 him in power; the power that raised him can also bring 
 him back to powerlessness." " What !" says Sir Rob- 
 ert, " make a tool of me! It is I who have done them 
 honour by guiding them hitherto. If they think that I 
 am to be servile, let them resume their ancient standing, 
 just where their own faculties would have kept them, 
 and then let us see what they will make of it." He has 
 shown you, that he alone is of more importance than 
 
the whole heap of you, ferment as you may. Disraeli 
 has put the case well: and if the progress of man is of 
 any value, then he has highly commended Sir Robert, 
 however inadvertently ; but if adhesion to what is and 
 what was, if the stop of the human mind, is the great 
 good and great safety, then he has severely lashed the 
 minister. Just as men see through party spirit, or by 
 philosophic light, will they make the application of this 
 philippic. 
 
 Any way, the corn laws are now condemned ; the 
 execution is deferred a little, but they must be hung: 
 the last resort of mercy is already against them. Poor 
 agriculturists! that you should only be laughed at in 
 your misery. The Times says, " It is the fate of drunk- 
 ards and children to refuse wise guidance." 
 
 Once more, read the " leader" of Tuesday, as to the 
 amount of your burdens, as to your pet poor rates. The 
 Editor says — 
 
 " You cannot claim greatness and suffering also. It appears that 
 the commercial interests of the country pay a larger amount of poor 
 rates than you do ; and therefore you have less property to be rated, or, 
 you are greatly undercharged." 
 
 By and bye, I verily believe, such is your obstinate re- 
 sistance against all change, hereafter you will hardly 
 be an important class in our community ; and the 
 aristocracy generally is very little better. Punch says — 
 
 \b " That the chaplain of Newgate is decidedly against the abolition of 
 hanging ; it is a wicked interference with his vested rights. He hopes to 
 see k deferred at least to his death." 
 
 Just so, precisely so, as reasonably so, is your pre- 
 cious cry against the repeal of the corn laws : — as to 
 them that are to be hung, as to them that are to starve 
 meantime, why, "what has that to do with it?" as the 
 lamented Mrs. Caudle said. 
 
 CLXXXYIII. 
 
 January 25, 1846. 
 Fichte had a most exalted notion of the functions and 
 influence of a teacher. To him, he was the first being 
 
370 
 
 upon the earth — first innately, as well as by his work. 
 On his own tomb were inscribed these words, said to be 
 written by himself: — 
 
 " The Teachers shall shine 
 
 as the brightness of the firmament ; 
 
 And they that turn many to righteousness, 
 
 as the stars, for ever and ever." 
 
 I have just finished reading the lectures, the inaugural 
 discourses rather, on the opening of the Berlin Academe. 
 They are striking, and take up high ground, and propose 
 a great object to his pupils : he attempted to make 
 knowledge a sanctity. All this is well; but the mode 
 of teaching is transcendental, I think. If the student 
 cannot or will not understand that the Divine Idea is 
 something extra to the man — an emanation from God, 
 and working in man — for all knowledge and all principle 
 — then the fabric falls for him. He makes precisely the 
 same use of the word Divine Idea as St. Paul makes 
 of the Holy Spirit : — Whatever you have of good is 
 given to you ; of evil, it is all your own. 
 
 In the first page of the first lecture, " On the Vocation 
 or Morality of the Scholar, he says — 
 
 u Generally speaking, when we hear the word morality, the idea is 
 suggested of a cultivation of character and conduct by rule and precept. 
 But it is only true in a limited sense, that man can form himself upon 
 precept. It must be in him, independent of all manifestation, and 
 before all manifestation." 
 
 True; but the germ is everywhere; it is part of our very 
 nature, but still to be unfolded by ourselves. If not, what 
 is accountability made of? And further on he says — 
 
 " In individual human beings the eternal Divine Idea takes up its 
 abode as their spiritual nature ; and then we say, this man loves the Idea, 
 and lives in the Idea ; when, in truth, his person is only the sensible 
 manifestation of this existence of the Idea, and has, in and for itself 
 alone, neither significance nor life." 
 
 What is this but saying, " Man is made up of soul and 
 body ; the soul is of God." But then, so is the body also. 
 Is man's life one thing, or two things ? 
 He adds, very wisely — 
 
 " The student should say, I am ; but, as surely as I am, is my exist- 
 ence a thought of God ; for He alone is the foundation of all being, and 
 
371 
 
 besides Him is no being. And so does his own person ever become 
 holier to him through knowledge, and knowledge again holier through 
 the holiness of his person. Thus his whole life, however unimportant 
 it may outwardly seem, has acquired an inward meaning, a new signi- 
 ficance. And in order to become a partaker in this life, neither 
 the student of science, nor the follower of any other human pursuit, 
 needs peculiar talents : but only a living and active integrity of purpose, 
 to which the thought of our high vocation and our allegiance to an 
 eternal law, with all that flows from] these, will be spontaneously 
 revealed." 
 
 The following is good counsel : — 
 
 u Jesting is not suited to youth ; they know little of man who 
 think so. Where youth is wasted in sport, it will never afterwards 
 attain to earnestness and true existence. To remain without occupa- 
 tion of any sort — to cast a dull unmeaning gaze around us, will soon 
 make our minds dull and unmeaning. Youth is the age of newly 
 developed power ; everywhere there are still impulses and principles 
 destined to burst forth in new creations. The peculiar character of 
 youth is restless and uninterrupted activity. To see it slothful, is the 
 sight of winter in the time of spring, the blight and withering of a 
 newly opened flower." 
 
 The lecture, " On the Scholar as a Ruler," is the 
 best, I think. In that, his large principles are applied 
 practically to life, and to future life also. He says — 
 
 ft He who undertakes to guide his age, and order its constitution, must 
 be exalted above it. The true ruler possesses a living and compre- 
 hensive idea of that department of human life which he undertakes 
 to superintend, and knows what is its essential being, meaning, and 
 purpose. He perfectly understands the changing and adventitious 
 forms which it may assume in reality, without prejudice to its inward 
 nature. No part of its present condition is, in his view, necessary and 
 unchangeable, but is only an incidental point in a progression which 
 is constant^ rising towards higher perfection." 
 
 True, O king ; but where are these rulers ? 
 
 Here, however, is the key to many great ideas deve- 
 loped practically in life : — 
 
 " Great spirits of the fore-world often rule over succeeding ages long 
 after their death, by means of men who are nothing in themselves, but 
 only continuations and prolongations of their life." 
 
 It is common enough to say now, that Sir Robert is a 
 deserter; tell your friends to call him a prolongation and 
 continuation of a Whig!, 
 
an 
 
 CLXXXIX. 
 
 January 28, 1846. 
 
 Your "yachting gentry" obtaining French goods in 
 abundance from Guernsey, proves nothing. The question 
 is, what are the staple commodities of the island ? are 
 they chiefly French or English? They are acknowledged 
 to be of English manufacture, as three to four; therefore 
 the English goods are fitted to compete every where 
 against French manufactures. 
 
 I told you, I had sold the little property my brother 
 left me. Well/ I thought I would not give the Devil, 
 that " old cockfighter," a chance in that transfer, at all 
 events. I told the purchaser s attorney to act for me, and 
 deposited the deeds in his hands at once. The purchase 
 was to be completed by the 1st of November, or to bear 
 interest from that date. I was to discontinue all acts of 
 ownership at Michaelmas, and he paid the man in 
 possession from that date. Well, things proceeded beau- 
 tifully. I went down to sign the conveyance, and took 
 the cash, and welcomed the purchaser, and said, "Aha, 
 Old Scratch, no fight this time!" " Oh, by the bye," 
 I added instantly to the purchaser, " I had forgotten 
 the interest; I want the interest from Nov. 1 to Dec. 10, 
 this day." (" Thank me for putting you in mind of 
 that," said the cockfighter: "I have reserved this," 
 he added, aside: " What, part so! without rumpling a 
 feather!") The purchaser replied, "I can't pay the in- 
 terest, I have not had possession." " That was not my 
 delay, but the law's delay," I rejoined ; " the provision 
 is simply for time, as usual. However, I'll ask advice, 
 and write to you." I consulted two attorneys, and a large 
 buyer of land ; and their opinions were, " The claim is good 
 and customary, whether actual possession is had or not." 
 I wrote two or three times about this, but felt there was 
 no chance of convincing him : at last I wrote to say, 
 " I trusted that he would receive in a friendly spirit a 
 communication from my attorney about the claim ; for, 
 without doubt, he felt himself as justified in resisting the 
 amount, as I did in demanding it; the law therefore 
 must decide it." (" Capital," said Old Scratch, " this is 
 as it should be ; now, have pluck, both of you.") The 
 
373 
 
 fight, however, was short, but no child's play. This is 
 his answer : — 
 
 " Sir,— Your behaviour has been unhandsome and unjust, and your 
 claim has been stated improperly and dishonestly to your lawyer, 
 or otherwise he would not have felt justified in making the demand. 
 However, I do not choose to go into a law-suit for the amount; — 
 inclosed is a check for the sum. Your's, &c." 
 
 I call that a first-rate " set-to," like a real Chicken. I 
 replied after this fashion : — 
 
 " Sir, — I feel sorry you should have allowed yourself to use such 
 ungentlemanly observations. If I replied under the same ' unhandsome 
 and unjust behaviour,' I should say, I do not choose to be robbed ; — 
 inclosed is a receipt for your money. Your's, &c." 
 
 (" Have you already done ?" said the Devil, disap- 
 pointed and vexed. " Well, I thought you had more 
 pluck.") 
 
 And so you call me sensitive and imaginative, do you? 
 Can you stand fire like that? One funny thing about 
 this is, that the man writes ordinarily a round-about 
 letter; but this one is terse, apposite, and pushed with 
 energv. It is his wife's hand-writing; I think it her 
 "blood" also. 
 
 This " old cockfighter" has lost power over me, in the 
 main, ever since I understood his peculiar manner. I 
 think now a man is a great goose to let himself out for 
 sport, even to this admirable tactician. When you feel 
 your feathers ruffling (for I have seen hens fight), think 
 of the fun for him— think how he is patting you on the 
 back. Such remembrance is good philosophy. 
 
 Here is another little story for you: — " Oh ! he is an 
 idle fellow, that doctor," said a friend of mine; " he 
 attends more to his singing-birds and entomology than 
 to physic. With you," he added, " you read to amuse 
 yourself, also too much ; but I confess you make some 
 little use of it — though not much, I must say. However, 
 there is something in it," he added, after a pause, and 
 as if unwilling to depress me too greatly : " such men 
 as you, however, think that life was made for thinking 
 purposes, and for anything rather than for getting money, 
 sad donkies as you all are." So now, you may know the 
 worth of opening the intellect in the estimation of rich t 
 B 5 
 
374 
 
 The three eldest children go to school to-morrow, and 
 with them goes ^£125 for a half j^ear's education ; there 
 is some reason therefore for looking to L. s. d. One has 
 need to do something else than read. Only, the rich 
 men will not allow there is need to do any thing else 
 than getting money. Can you tell me exactly for what 
 purposes we were created ? I should not be greatly sur- 
 prised if you said, " To get married." My wife would 
 say, " For the multiplication of mankind ;" for which she 
 has manifold advantages; — so much depends upon the 
 point of view from whence we look upon life's offices ! 
 
 cxc. 
 
 January 28, 1846. 
 At least, though no great politician, it has been impos- 
 sible for you to refuse reading " Sir Robert's" grand and 
 vast project upon imported articles ; — ay, down to satin 
 slippers and blond lace he has descended, to give every 
 soul, male and female, an interest in his handy-work. It 
 is a greater display of moral courage, and has a larger field 
 of action, of more important consequences, than any other 
 one political deed that has been submitted to the judgment 
 of this people for centuries. I believe it will be as benefi- 
 cial as it is comprehensive. Its principle is noble, and the 
 detail is most workmanlike and efficient. It is even 
 generous, while it is unswerving and radical ; — like the 
 able surgeon, he cuts deep into the offensive sore, for 
 mercy's sake. No man in the kingdom can say, he has 
 leant towards the commercial interests ; it would be dif- 
 ficult even to deny, by any proof, that he has not greatly 
 favoured the agricultural interest. I foretell, that com- 
 petition will be much severer for the former than for the 
 latter, by foreigners. However that may be, both have 
 need to bestir themselves ; and many old streams must 
 be diverted, and new ones opened — and wherefore ? — see 
 the righteousness of the answer, — to rescue a too abund- 
 ant population from misery and want. The minister 
 has proclaimed at last, that wealth is out of this question, 
 a comparatively unworthy object ; that the people must 
 be fed, and be fed by the fair reward of their labour; 
 that, for the benefit of the millions, the hundreds must 
 
375 
 
 give way, if need be. Now, the man is recognised, and 
 his comfort is recognised as the right, the proper result 
 of every man's industry. Class legislation is given to 
 the winds ; for at last we begin to discover that the power 
 of a nation consists, not in the old error of numbers, 
 but in the well-being of its common people — not even in 
 the amassed riches of a few, but in the useful industry 
 of the many; that power to create riches is there, as well 
 as the power to pay the taxes. 
 
 See now, how he has stepped away from the long- 
 cherished position of continental reciprocation ; and seen 
 at last, that our real interests have very little to do with 
 their narrow-mindedness. See his courage too, in boldly 
 showing the way, and confidently calculating upon the 
 issue of our example. Oh ! what ages have we been 
 learning, that God has one equal design in creating man- 
 kind; that the whole earth should be the common table; 
 that man should be fed, not here alone, nor there alone, 
 but from wheresoever the food is most abundant, and 
 other comforts of life accumulated ! 
 
 I would not rob the minister of an atom of his honour. 
 I, for one, feel delighted to see a great man veering away 
 from his life-education of political error, and acknow- 
 ledging by deeds that his mind is opened, and that " old 
 things have passed away." To his honour it has to be 
 said, " Alone he did it;" for it is quite evident his party 
 have been forced into his views. He has brought the 
 great fact to bear ; he is the able builder, under an archi- 
 tect somewhere in the rank of the Whigs ! He is the one 
 man to accomplish this vast undertaking, to bring the 
 light of the pioneers of political knowledge fairly and 
 practically before the face of the people! 
 
 The year's balance sheet also, in to-day's newspapers, 
 is worth your reading, woman though you be. Of the 
 53 millions of money collected last year, do look down 
 the column, and tell me, who have paid it? It is in a nut- 
 shell : Customs, 19-J millions; Excise, 13J millions; 
 Stamps, 7| millions ; Land and Assessed Taxes, 4J mil- 
 lions ; Property Tax, 5 millions ; Post Office, f of a mil- 
 lion; — the remainder is not worth speaking about. But 
 how disposed of? — to whom ? Funded debt,28f millions ; 
 Army and Navy, 18^ millions; and among the aristocracy, 
 
376 
 
 for salaries, 2J millions. In fact, as a body, what they 
 contribute they receive again; as a body, they pay nothing. 
 The poor, and the class above the poor, by reason of their 
 numbers, and by the non-reason of class legislation, pay 
 nearly the whole, and receive back — stripes and groans. 
 
 This is a synopsis, a proven statement, of the country's 
 work, that you may put under your eye-lid, and suffer 
 no inconvenience from ; but still it is big enough to choke 
 any great grumbling beast of an agriculturist, if you 
 shove it down his throat at the present moment. 
 
 Pray forgive the Times for the contempt he has added 
 to the sop of the minister, in giving three years grace to 
 the corn-laws. He means it kindly, when he says, 
 " Oh ! those odd halfpence thrown to the aristocratic 
 mendicants, the tenfold degradation, so to pacify" — the 
 rogues. " If they felt like other men, they would at 
 once refuse the degrading dole. But we cannot hope 
 for this." " No kind of boon is to be omitted," he adds. 
 "What cannot be given, is to be lent. . . . No three years 
 law is to be allowed to the warehouseman to clear off his 
 heavy stock," but he must stand the brunt at once. 
 These are hard words, " heavy lines," as old people say, 
 against you ;— but consider the occasion, and forgive 
 him — pray do ! 
 
 I think the manufacturing and commercial interests 
 will lose suddenly much more than the agricultural in- 
 terest in the three years. However, for the honour of 
 trade, that we may manifestly set forth our hopes, and 
 abide patiently in a sturdy trust in our energies, I 
 earnestly desire to see no complaint on our side. It is 
 hardly in human nature to be expected, among so many 
 of every variety of man, that we should be unanimous ; 
 but I do think our leading mercantile men will show a 
 brave spirit and a disinterested Jove for the common 
 people, and consent to the sacrifice cheerfully. If they 
 do, it will put your wail in fine contrast. 
 
 Can you believe now, that my old statement is true, — 
 that relative value is alone important in exchange — that 
 industry is more important than money. Ireland is a 
 remarkable exemplification of this dogma. Their low 
 price of produce gives them no advantage; for them 
 high prices would be no benefit. Without industry, i. e. 
 
377 
 
 useful employment, they can buy nothing, and eat 
 nothing. And yet they have as fine a country, for every 
 purpose, as any under the sun. 
 
 CXCI. 
 
 ■ January 29, 1846. 
 
 I have been much interested by "The Rationale of 
 Religious Enquiry," by James Martineau. At least 
 (though many would think it no commendation) it is 
 full of good common sense and manly reasoning upon 
 the great mystery of Christianity. There is no attempt 
 to take advantage of what is not stated precisely ; but a 
 sound and critical examination is alone given of the im- 
 port and teaching of the religion. 
 
 After speaking of the newly-acquired dominion of the 
 Romans over Palestine, and the small consideration 
 they attached to it and to its people, he says — 
 
 " The inhabitants, the Jews, were the most unpopular of nations,— 
 a people out of date ; having the prejudices of age, without its wisdom, 
 and the superstition of the East, without its loftiness. They had been 
 deserted by the tide of civilization, now flowing on other shores, and were 
 left without the refreshment of a sympathy. They detested, they despised, 
 they suspected, they writhed under authority. Their affections were for 
 the past, and not for the future ; and their worship was one of hope, not of 
 love." 
 
 This is the field upon which Christ came to act. And 
 see also, how true to history, and how picturesque, is the 
 introduction of Jesus to his labour : — 
 
 " In a hamlet of this country, sequestered among the hills which inclose 
 the Galilean lake, a peasant, eighteen centuries ago, began to fill up the 
 intervals of worldly occupation with works of mercy, and efforts of public 
 instruction. Neglected by his own villagers of Nazareth, he took up his 
 residence in the neighbouring town of Capernaum ; and there, escaped 
 from the prejudices of his first home, and left to the natural influence of 
 his own character, he found friends, hearers, and followers. He mixed in 
 their societies, he worshipped in their synagogues ; he visited their homes, 
 he taught on the hill-side, he watched their traffic on the beach, and 
 joined in their excursions on the lake. He clothed himself in their 
 affections, and they admitted him to their sorrows, and his presence con- 
 secrated their joys. Their Hebrew feelings became human when he was 
 near ; and their rude nationality of worship rose towards the filial devotion 
 
378 
 
 of a rational and responsible soul More than human power fol- 
 lowed his steps; and in many a house dwelt living memorials of his 
 
 miracles That the awe of Deity which was kindled by his acts, 
 
 and the love of goodness which was excited by his life, might not be 
 confined to one spot of his country, twelve associates were first drawn 
 closely around him, to observe and learn, and then dispersed, to repeat his 
 miracles, to report, and teach. They were with him when the recurring 
 festivals summoned him, in common with his fellow-citizens, to leave 
 awhile Capernaum for Jerusalem. They beheld how his dignity rose 
 when his sphere of action was thus enlarged, and the interest of his 
 position deepened, — when the rustic audience was replaced by the crowd 
 of the metropolis, and village cavillers gave way to priests and rulers ; 
 and the handful of neighbours in the provincial synagogue was exchanged 
 for the strange and gaudy multitudes that thronged the vast Temple at 
 the hour of prayer." 
 
 " In one of* these exhibitions, the fear of the established authorities, 
 and the disappointment of a once favouring multitude, whose ambition he 
 had refused to gratify, combined to crush him. It was soon done. The 
 passover at Jerusalem was its assizes also : the betrayal and the trial over, 
 the execution was part of the annual celebration, a spectacle that furnished 
 an hour's excitement to the populace. But there were eyes that looked 
 on with no careless or savage gaze, of many that had seen his recent life 
 in Galilee. The twelve, too, lingered closely round the event ; and 
 they say, that he came back from death, spoke to them oft for forty days, 
 and was carried, before their view, beyond the precincts of this earth." 
 
 " Here was a series of events, deeply interesting indeed to those who 
 were immersed in them ; but of which, even on the spot where they 
 occurred, it might have been expected, that within one generation their 
 very rumour would have died away, lost in the stir and cares of life. .... 
 They are, moreover, the simple records of a private life, coming in almost 
 at the death of ancient history, and overshadowed by its pageantry ; the 
 miracles themselves rendered insipid, except for their benevolence, by its 
 prodigies. Yet this fragment of biography did not die; — it not only 
 lived, but it gave life ; it recast society in Europe, and called into being 
 a new world." 
 
 He adds — 
 
 " Providence thus sent out these events upon a mission. To inquire 
 after their end, to go in quest of the design, is to seek a reply to the 
 question, What is Christianity ? 
 
 And now see how Christianity presents itself to an 
 inquiring mind freed from all prejudices, at least, in its 
 favour: — 
 
379 
 
 " Let me then conceive myself to take up the Christian records for 
 the first time, strip off the feelings with which habit has invested them, 
 and Jay open my mind freely to the impressions which they would make. 
 .... It is obvious at once, that in the New Testament I have a com- 
 posite work, whose unity is purely nominal, proceeding from men who 
 had no knowledge of each other's labours, still less any idea that the 
 results of these labours would ever be congregated into one work. Thou- 
 sands of Christians, multitudes of churches, there must have been, 
 familiar only with one or two ; and a century of Christianity without the 
 entire collection. The book is a somewhat casual association of faithful 
 records (for many books are excluded), the venerable remains of the 
 early Christianity, the production of its fresh and early time, born in the 
 midst of its conflicts, and impressed with the energy of its youth. The 
 next impression is, that 1 have to do with realities. . . . They (the books) 
 vary in particulars, but the general spirit is the same. ... A pure, 
 vivid, and single image of Christ is reflected from each. The writings 
 have various and doubtful reasonings ; they have inconclusive appeals 
 to the Old Testament ; they have strong traces of the peculiarities of 
 the minds from which they sprung — the confused yet technical order of 
 Matthew — the exaggerations of Mark — the distinctness of Luke — the 
 tenderness and orientalism of John — the impetuosity of Paul, with 
 thought at the bottom, and confusion and genius on the surface, and 
 affectionate vigour every where ; — but, through all the errors and 
 delusions which were rife in that age and country, the character of 
 Jesus shines forth in beauty identical and unique , as if it had left an 
 impression which it was impossible to mistake." 
 
 In the Second Lecture, on " Catholic Infallibility/' he 
 gives this graphic account of Catholicity : — 
 
 " No instructed man can deny that the Roman Catholic church 
 presents one of the most solemn and majestic spectacles in history. 
 The very arguments that are employed against its rites remind us of 
 the mighty part which it has played on the theatre of the world. For 
 when we say, that the ceremonies of its worship, the decorations of its 
 altars, and the evolutions of its priests, are conceived in the spirit of 
 Heathenism, how can we forget that it was once the witness of ancient 
 Paganism, the victor of its decrepid superstitions, the rival yet imitator 
 of its mythology ? When we ask the use of the lights which burn 
 during the mass, how can we fail to think of the secret worship of the 
 early Christians, assembled at dead of night in some vault beyond the 
 eye of observation ? When we wonder at the pantomimic character of 
 its services, its long passages of gesticulation, are we not carried back 
 to the times when the quick ear of the informer and persecutor lurked 
 near, and devotion, finding words an unsafe vehicle of thought, 
 
B80 
 
 invented the symbolical language which could be read only by the 
 initiated eye ? .... It evangelized, too, the prophecy of the East, 
 and gave some sobriety to its wild and voluptuous dreams. It stood 
 by the desert fountain, from which all modern history flows, and 
 dropped into it the sweetening branch of Christian truth and peace. 
 Traces of its labour, and of its versatile power over the human mind, 
 are scattered throughout the globe. It is not difficult to understand 
 the enthusiasm which this ancient and picturesque religion kindles in its 
 disciples. It has bid defiance to the vicissitudes of fifteen centuries ; it 
 has beheld the transition from ancient to modern civilization, and forms 
 itself the connecting link between the old world in Europe and the 
 new; — it is the associate of history, the patron of art, the vanquisher of 
 the sword." 
 
 *' From a religion which has had to wind its way through the 
 darkest ages and the foulest recesses of society, it is no doubt very 
 easy to gather a multitude of superstitions and crimes. With such a 
 temper, of sweeping together these errors and scandals, and leaving them 
 as a disgrace at the door of the Vatican, I have no sympathy. In 
 society and nations, as in individuals, the human capacities unfold 
 themselves in succession; — memory, imagination, passion, before 
 intellect. And during the period when those earlier faculties held 
 the ascendancy, and in fixing on objects of veneration the understanding 
 was not yet consulted, the Catholic religion was well suited to human 
 wants, — the essential truth of Christianity found a living access to the 
 heart and conscience of mankind." 
 
 *' At this stage of human progress we no longer stand. To our 
 acts of veneration now, the suffrage of the understanding has become 
 indispensable. The ideas of faith and of truth have approached more 
 nearly to each other. It is here that the Roman Catholic religion breaks 
 down." 
 
 Lecture III. is on " Protestant Infallibility." "That 
 was a noble fight," he says — 
 
 " Which was fought by Luther and his printing press, when they 
 rescued the Bible from the grasp of priests, and turned it from the cha- 
 racter of an incorporated tyranny into the patent of universal freedom. 
 If that book is to fulfil its appointed function, as the sinner's conscience, 
 as the mourner's friend, and the oppressor's foe, it must be accessible to 
 
 all men, in all stations of life and moods of mind So far, then, 
 
 as the Reformation effected the diffusion of the Scriptures — the book of 
 duty, the book of liberty, the book of life — it should be regarded by 
 gratitude in all times. In order to produce its beneficent effects, the Bible 
 must be left to its natural agency ; must fairly come in contact with the 
 opened and unbiassed mind of men." 
 
381 
 
 " The real seat of unerring truth/' he says, speaking 
 of our Church's dogmas — 
 
 — " Is in the original conceptions of Christ's understanding ; the 
 infallibility which resides there alone, the Protestant transfers to his own 
 peculiar interpetation ; he assumes it as an absolute fact, not merely 
 that the ideas of Christ were true, but that his own are identical with 
 Christ's. ... He brings me his own peculiar notions, which he deno- 
 minates, " the truth of God, which cannot lie ;" he proposes to eradicate 
 mine, which he entitles " delusions of Satan." Passing by my 
 understanding, he goes direct to my will ; wielding not arguments, but 
 motives — not evidence, but fears ; telling me, not of proofs, but of 
 perils — not of reasons, but of ruin ; and aiming to throw, not my 
 judgment into a calm, but my feelings into a tempest. Has this man 
 the least idea, that he has any thing to learn in religion, as the human 
 mind may learn from another ?" 
 
 This is a manly complaint against the violation of 
 man's reason. To ask man to forego that guide, is as 
 rational as to ask of animals to give up their instinct. It 
 was given to man as his guide, with just the same inten- 
 tion as instinct was given to the lower animals. 
 
 Lecture IV. on "Rationalism," professes the same 
 faith in the dictates of reason. He says — 
 
 ft How can a man judge of the Creator's design upon us, but by our 
 reason ? That God may have a design above the comprehension of 
 his creatures, is no doubt a certainty ; but still the question must recur, 
 Did he intend man to know it, to judge of it, to be guided by it 1 .. If 
 the essential ideas of Christianity lay in any of the disputed interpre- 
 tations, — if it was the design to impart as truth any one of those 
 notions which still exist as controverted opinions, this confession would 
 be fatal to the evidence of the Gospel ; it would prove that the 
 institution has failed in its primary intent, has misunderstood the minds 
 it was addressing, and consigned its truth to a vehicle unfitted to convey 
 it, and therefore that it could not possibly be Divine. . . . We are 
 exhorted to prostrate our reason before Scripture. If this high-sounding 
 phrase simply means, that we are not to take our speculations to the 
 New Testament, and then palm them upon the sacred writers, the 
 principle is both true and important. Many of the vagaries of 
 theologians have arisen from the neglect of this rule — from the 
 determination of men to find their own fancies in the Scriptures. But 
 this is an abuse of the reason. The business of the understanding in 
 the interpretation of Scripture is the same as in the case of any other 
 book, — to furnish itself with all such knowledge of language, of history 
 
382 
 
 of localities, of the sentiments of the age and nation, as may have any- 
 bearing upon the writings ; and then to give itself freely up to the 
 impressions which they convey, without any attempt to modify them 
 by any notions, whether derived from an ecclesiastical creed, or an 
 individual theory previously in the mind. . . Is it for man to urge the 
 reasonableness and beauty of the Scriptures, and then to say, you 
 cannot deal with them by the process of the reason ? It is impossible to 
 attain to any conviction more than rational ; there can exist no 
 obligation to set aside the suggestions of the understanding ; — the 
 last appeal must be to the judgment of the human mind." 
 
 I have often thought that we cold-blooded people 
 read the Scriptures in quite another sense from what an 
 Eastern Christian would, even at this day. No one can 
 read of the common expressions of those people, and 
 understand them in a comparative sense of our under- 
 standing such words used by us. In like manner, the 
 Scriptures have always been understood by the Eastern 
 nations in a manner very different from our literal inter- 
 pretations. It is a strong and very remarkable fact, 
 that always they have been Arians. The Catholics 
 read and make one kind of interpretation ; the Calvinists, 
 another ; the Unitarians, another ; the Anti-superna- 
 turalists, another — to say nothing of the thousand shades 
 between each one of these divisions — not so much from 
 the perversion of the intelligence, as from the obscurity 
 of the original language, or our want of knowledge of 
 Oriental customs and habits of thought. 
 
 CXCII. 
 
 February 1, 1846. 
 I like you to think of me about as I am. I don't 
 mind your having a queer opinion of several moods of 
 my mind. I confess to many eccentric movements, all 
 the wrong way ; but the one thing you charge me with, 
 I never feel. (This is the exact preliminary of every 
 sinner against every accusation.) No, I cannot be snap- 
 pish about politics with you. The fact is, a great many 
 of my assertions and my explanations sadly want the 
 countenance beside them ; for then, what may appear 
 snappish is understood as good-tempered banter. I 
 have been told many times, that, were it not for my 
 
383 
 
 laughing face, I should be as troublesome a fellow as 
 need be ; for my expressions are generally too direct — 
 too severe. However, always believe I like to hear of 
 my faults, I like to know what impressions I convey. 
 Emerson says, "Character teaches over our heads; — 
 we may talk, but above us stands the explainer to the 
 other party, and translates for us." I do wish, whether 
 true or not true, that every one would believe this asser- 
 tion ; for, doubtless, it is the apparent success of dupli- 
 city, which makes the trade vigorous in the world. 
 
 It is an odd thing — and I am ashamed to say so — 
 but I am of opinion, that the most independent class of 
 voters we have is the mechanics' class. A farmer or a 
 country tradesman is rarely independent ; as a class at 
 least, they are more easily guided, more easily herded, 
 than the ,£10 householders. The country gentlemen too, 
 do they exercise the franchise irrespective of local policy 
 or friendship ? Certainly not. I think they are as sub- 
 servient as any class. The ballot-box is the sanctum of 
 a man's opinion ; and always, as opinion is enlightened, 
 the ballot-box is resorted to; — see every mode of voting 
 among gentlemen. Educate our people; give some 
 power of judging to our lower classes ; and then adopt 
 the ballot-box. The hustings speeches are improved 
 everywhere, which is a good sign of the times. Our 
 public men will reason now with the common people. 
 It is worth while remarking the attention Cobden gains, 
 even under the dry details of mercantile facts, and upon 
 political economy. And it is worth while remarking 
 also, the little attention Mr. Ferrand has obtained under 
 the exercise of the roughest agitator's tools, — using such 
 a mode of persuasion, indeed, as would have set the 
 country in a flame fifty years ago. Both these facts tell 
 well for the progress of the human mind ; if ,not of its 
 enlightenment, at least of its rational intendment. 
 
 Disraeli does not intend to argue with the House; 
 what he means is, to provoke his party to act in oppo- 
 sition to the Minister, by shewing them the contemptible 
 tools they are, how used up, and laid by ; he wants to 
 rouse their spirit through the flashes of indignant and 
 bitter sarcasm. For this purpose his plan is a good 
 
 It is 
 
384 
 
 only because of the very peculiar mark of your party— 
 that you can do nothing without a distinguished leader — 
 that he does not succeed, and brilliantly. The " third 
 party" you speak of, is the great party now, and is 
 growing daily in importance, — public opinion. There 
 is nearly an end to the boast of going unshackled into 
 the House of Commons, which has meant long enough, 
 thinking more of your party than of your constituents. 
 Members must begin to understand, that the word repre- 
 sentative has a real and direct signification of speaking 
 the sense of the voters. There must become a closer 
 connexion between these parties; every appearance is 
 significant of this change. To the Duke of Richmond's 
 indignant question, " Have the people no representatives 
 in the House of Commons, that they should listen to 
 this new power, this League ?" the answer is, Because 
 this large portion of the people feel they are not repre- 
 sented there, they listen here. If the classes felt them- 
 selves represented, they are not asses enough not to see 
 that their power lies in the members of the House of 
 Commons. One great effect of the new voters created 
 by the League fund will be, to set up this sturdy claim 
 to true representation. I confess, I don't like the plan 
 of creating votes — I think it an abuse ; but it is not half 
 so bad as bribery and intimidation. 
 
 CXCIII. 
 
 February^ 1846. 
 Quinet's " Ultramontanism" is a very popular book 
 in France, and one that has also interested me a good 
 deal. I am half afraid to send you my extracts, as I 
 have so overloaded you lately after that fashion. Per- 
 haps you will allow me to give three or four short 
 passages that I think worthy your contemplation — I 
 hope, at least, they will cause you to read the book 
 carefully. In the Lecture, " Roman Church and Sci- 
 ences," he says, speaking of the obstinacy of the church 
 and of its hatred of all movement, — 
 
 " The Church, which at first contained all the elements of social 
 life, becomes gradual^ unpeopled as we emerge from the middle ages. 
 At every period of moderntimes, an institution, or some one element 
 
385 
 
 of life, is detached from it. First, the state leaves it, and becomes 
 secular; next, art, which becomes Greek or Roman; then individual 
 liberty, which is identified with Protestantism. Even words change 
 their meaning : the Church, which formerly comprehended all Christian 
 humanity, signifies at last merely the body of the clergy. Experiments 
 and mathematics are about to be proscribed, physics condemned, 
 
 geometry excommunicated Such is the problem which, for the 
 
 first time, is plainly proposed in the world ; it is the divorce between 
 the Church and Science." 
 
 " You pity the eternal restlessness of the thinking mind," he adds, 
 speaking to the Church, " and boast that, for yourselves, there is no 
 
 longer any movement They will not see," he adds, " that this 
 
 avidity in the mind of the philosopher, the scholar, is precisely what 
 
 is most sacred in him The academician, convinced that his work 
 
 is finished, and everything said ; and the priest, convinced that he has 
 consummated the knowledge of God, are absolutely on the same level. 
 .... Yes, we want this perpetual aspiring towards new conquests, for 
 it is nothing but the progress of the intellect. Every man who works, 
 prays ; every man who discovers, creates. Science is catholic and 
 
 pious, and is enveloped by revelation The Church has been 
 
 punished for her blindness, and yet will not learn. She commands us 
 to be instructed by every blow of fortune ; and yet this divine lesson is 
 not for her : for this reason, — for a punishment to be profitable, we 
 must believe it to be just. They boast of being martyrs ; and what 
 Providence wished them to receive as a lesson of humility, they have 
 fashioned into a lesson of pride." a 
 
 CXCIV. 
 
 February 6, 1846. 
 I have been reading a little book of Novalis's, " Fre- 
 derick Hardenberg." In the sketch of his life prefixed, 
 there is the following picture of his love, and of his 
 death also :— 
 
 " To complete his studies, he went to Wittenburg. At Jena he 
 became acquainted with F. Schlegel and Fichte, both of whom exercised 
 a great influence on his life. About 1794 he removed to Armstadt, 
 where an incident occurred, that seems to have altered the form of his 
 existence. He there contracted an acquaintance with Sophie Von 
 
 K , whose beauty and simplicity won his heart. Tiek said, ' No 
 
 description can express the grace and harmony of that fair being ; 
 beauty and softness peculiarly blended in and encircled her.' They 
 became betrothed. Sophie fell sick of a dangerous fever, and in a short 
 time she died. This event almost overpowered the heart of Novalis. 
 
386 
 
 From that time he lived another life — regarded the visible and the 
 invisible as one, and distinguished life and death only as longing for 
 the latter. He melted into a conscious existence of mere spirit, felt 
 a higher sympathy with whatsoever was pure and immaterial. From 
 the sacredness of his sorrow, from his heart-felt love, and the pious wish 
 for death, all his conceptions are to be explained. About this time he 
 wrote his best things — ' full of solemnity, immensity, as if he were 
 wandering among other worlds.' . . . . i Never till now,' he said, ' did 
 I know what poetry is ; songs and poems arise spontaneously within 
 
 me, of quite a new and different character On the 25th, he 
 
 breakfasted and talked cheerfully till eight o'clock ; and bade his 
 brother play on the harpsichord a little ; but in the course of the music 
 he fell asleep ; — soon after he was found to be dead, as if he yet lived, 
 so calmly did he breathe his last. He had not quite completed his 29th 
 year." 
 
 There was a passion to awaken into spirituality ; it 
 sublimated his soul. This is Emerson's view of its 
 genuine power. It is his delineation of perfected love. 
 What a history is in that one line — " He regarded the 
 visible and the invisible as one." And that other, too — 
 " Songs and poems rise spontaneously within me ; not 
 until now have I known what poetry is." Do you know 
 any thing of this spontaneity of great thought — of the 
 outlines of the beautiful and unearthly things that flit 
 before the soul ? Have you ever felt a wonderment at 
 creations rising up within you — by what agency you could 
 not divine ? If not, you cannot understand Novalis. 
 
 I will give you a passage or two from Novalis's 
 book :■ — 
 
 " When men remove the power of the invisible from themselves, 
 they begin a hard intercourse with one another, that lessens their affec- 
 tions to and dependence on each other ; covetous skill takes its place, 
 and the coarser fruits of knowledge and wealth. .... There is an oscil- 
 lation, a change of movements, essential to periods. The result is only 
 a renovation, a resurrection in a new and more suitable form. Christi- 
 anity was once glorious by its power and majesty, until a new worldly- 
 inspiration ruled its destruction. An inconceivable laziness was deeply 
 rooted in the clergy, now become too secure. The laity passed them by 
 in civilization. As they forgot their duty, base desires were engendered 
 in their minds, and the coarseness and meanness of their ideas became 
 more disagreeable by the station they held in society. Thus gradually 
 fell away that esteem and confidence, which are the pillars of a spiritual 
 
387 
 
 as of a temporal state. Rome had silently lost her peculiar majesty long 
 before any violent insurrection had broken out." 
 
 But in reviewing the effect of the Reformation, he 
 
 says — 
 
 " Justly did the insurgents call themselves Protestants, because 
 they solemnly protested against the usurpation of an improper, and 
 apparently boundless, power over conscience. They placed many 
 things on a more just foundation indeed, but forgot the necessary result 
 of their proceedings, — they tore themselves away from Christian unity. 
 Princes mixed themselves up with these discussions for the sake of their 
 sovereign power and influence. Thus religion lost her great political 
 peace-making power, and Christianity her own proper principle of an 
 
 uniting, individualizing character In the mean time, Luther 
 
 mistook this character of unity, by introducing the holy all-availableness 
 of the P)ible. And thus philology was unhappily made too manifest 
 and hurtful ; for nothing so destroys the sensitive nature of religion as 
 the mere letter. In former days, there was mixed with the Catholic 
 faith the authority of councils and the spiritual head of the church. 
 These were annihilated at the Reformation ; and the mere barren con- 
 tents, the raw abstract sketch of religion, appeared the more marked in 
 these books, and made every free examination and manifestation 
 extremely difficult for a religious mind. Hence there appears in Pro- 
 testantism so little of a heavenly and supernatural feeling: — the dryness 
 of its religious mind is remarkable ; and the time approaches when we 
 shall see a great practical unbelief. .... There is a new power, still 
 unripe, awaiting its day, and of a germ that is mighty and spiritual" 
 
 Such are his hopes. But of the day we have, he 
 
 says — 
 
 " The Reformation was a sign of the times ; for the whole of Europe 
 it was significant. The wise of all nations had silently grown up to 
 maturity, and, under the delusive impulse of their vocation, offered the 
 most resolute resistance to antiquated restraint. The man of science is 
 instinctively the enemy of the priesthood, according to the old constitu- 
 tion : knowledge and faith will always be placed in opposition to each 
 
 other by these combatants The original personal hatred against 
 
 the Catholic religion by degrees was turned against the Bible, and, last 
 of all, against religion itself. It extended to all enthusiasm ; it anathe- 
 matized imagination and sentiment, morality, and love of art, the past as 
 well as the future. It represented the endless creative music of the 
 universe as nothing more than the uniform clapper of an immense mill, 
 moved by the stream of chance, without architect or guide, a true per- 
 petuum mobile ! . . . . France was, happily, the seat and centre of this 
 new belief ! They call their great undertaking " The Enlightening t " 
 
388 
 
 ' ct In Germany," he says, " this was carried on more deeply and 
 systematically ; the system of education was altered, and a new ra- 
 tionalistic form was attempted to be given to the old religion. Thus 
 arose the modern society of Philanthropists and Illuminators. What a 
 pity that Nature should still remain so wonderful and incomprehensible 
 — so poetical and infinite in its beauty — in spite of all these attempts to 
 modernize her ! . . . . The history of modern infidelity is extremely 
 remarkable ; it is the key-stone to all the wonderful phenomena of later 
 
 times Religion has, however, arisen ; and every true friend of 
 
 her's must recognize and proclaim this advance, even if it be not as yet 
 sufficiently remarkable. That the time of her resurrection has come, no 
 historical mind can deny. From the destruction of every positive insti- 
 tution, she raises aloft her glorious head, as the new foundress of the 
 world. The Spirit of God moveth over the face of the waters, and a 
 heavenly island is seen on the receding waves, to become the abode of 
 renovated humanity, the well-spring of eternal life." 
 
 You must remember this was written about the year 
 1800, immediately after Robespierrre's death, whose 
 New Age of Reason you must not forget. 
 
 His hopes he discloses in this manner: — 
 " The sacred personality, the all-capability of the inward man, appears 
 to be stirring in every direction. Every thing at present is only indica- 
 tive ; but to an historical eye, they disclose a universal individuality, a 
 renovated humanity, when a loving God and His Church shall unexpec- 
 tedly be united again ; when the mind in its thousand different powers 
 shall inwardly conceive a new Messias ! And then we shall rightly 
 
 appreciate the importance of the gift of religion Where there 
 
 are no Gods, spectres rule ! Come then, ye Philanthropists and Encyclo- 
 paedists, accept conditions of peace, and receive a brother's kiss;— there 
 is something above your beloved understanding, and I will introduce you 
 to it, — the powerful trumpet- sound of a passing angelic herald !" 
 
 " Where is that ancient, lovely, and alone-sanctifying faith in the 
 government of God upon earth — that heavenly confidence which men 
 had in each other — that all-embracing spirit of Christianity ? Active 
 and vigorous was the old Catholic faith of Christendom. Its all-presence 
 in life, its deep humanitj', its friendly sj'mpathy with men, its joy in 
 poverty, its obedience and fidelity, clearly prove it to be the true 
 religion, and they include the grounds of its constitution. Christianity 
 must again become living and effective ; she must again form herself 
 nto a visible church, without ny regard to landmarks, that so she may 
 receive into her bosom those souls that thirst after heavenly things." 
 
 Whether it may be expected to gather mankind to- 
 gether into a unity of religion on the broad grounds of 
 
389 
 
 love and peace, and under the spiritual new birth of 
 inward sanctity— whether that is to be done without 
 other landmarks, I know not ; but I think it is clear, that 
 as yet the times are not ripe enough for so beneficent 
 a termination. The history of all religions is a more or 
 less gross personification of spirituality. Until I found 
 out this secret, I was an unbeliever, through personi- 
 fication. It was a mistake merely of the shadow for the 
 substance, because it looked more form-like to my un- 
 accustomed sight. To me now the word is not the fact, 
 but significant of the fact. Jesus Christ has made 
 manifest in the flesh what was written in the heavens ever 
 since the beginning of the family of man. He has 
 translated God to his people for evermore. 
 
 cxcv. 
 
 February 10, 1846. ' 
 If you 'can get the 41st number of the Edinburgh 
 Review, you will see an interesting critique upon Ma- 
 dame de StaeTs " Sur la Literature" Her book was 
 published in 1802, in the palmy days of the French 
 Republic — "the august republic of France," as she 
 calls it : — 
 
 " These proud anticipations," the Editor says, " are now (1812) 
 among the most curious and interesting parts of the work ; and when 
 compared with the events that have already succeeded, cannot fail to 
 excite in the mind of the thinking reader, a sentiment of mingled 
 distrust and compassion for the bright and feeling vision of human 
 prosperity — a disposition to laugh at the miserable miscarriage of so 
 many vast pretensions, and to mourn over the ruins of so many glorious 
 hopes." 
 
 Though this be true, yet the general mind of France 
 received more enlightenment in that interval, between 
 1802 and 1812, than any other nation of Europe ; and 
 the progress of the elite of literature in that time certainly 
 stands distinctly before that of any other people. 
 
 " We look upon this work," the critic says, " as the 
 best of Mad. de StaeTs publications; and we look upon 
 lier as, beyond all comparison, the first female writer of 
 her age." And then he adds — 
 
 S 
 
390 
 
 " Her knowledge, however, we must say, seems to be more of evil 
 than of good. The predominant, sentiment in her fictions is despair of 
 human virtue ; and their interest is founded almost entirely on the 
 inherent and almost inevitable heartlessness of polished man. The 
 impression therefore, though pathetic, is both painful and humiliating ; 
 it proceeds upon the double error, of supposing that the bulk of 
 intelligent people are as selfish as these victims of fashion and 
 philosophy, from whom her characters are selected ; and that a 
 sensibility to unkindness can survive the extinction of all kindly 
 emotions." 
 
 Now, I cannot help thinking this is pushing her de- 
 monstrations to excess. He himself indeed adds, " In 
 this work, however, she recognises the progress of 
 human nature, and pushes it, indeed, to rash and ques- 
 tionable conclusions." So that, it would appear, she 
 paints darkly, but hopes strongly. She fears poor 
 human acts, but still recognises and points to its re- 
 demption through intelligence and virtue. 
 Further on he says — 
 
 " In the range which she takes she has need of all the lights and 
 all the aids that can present themselves ; for her work contains a 
 critique and a theory of all the literature and philosophy in the world, 
 from the days of Homer to the 10th year of the French Revolution! 
 To go through all this with any tolerable success, and without 
 committing any very great blunders, evidently required a great 
 allowance of learning, and an extent of general knowledge, and a power 
 and comprehensiveness of thinking, that has very rarely been the 
 ornament of great scholars." 
 
 The work therefore is no light attempt to while away 
 the time, nor to give amusement to those who skip over 
 the surfaces of printed books. 
 The Editor says again — 
 
 u It is quite true, as Madame de Stael observes, that the power of 
 public opinion, which is the only sure and ultimate guardian either of 
 freedom or of virtue, is greater or less, exactly as the public is more or 
 less enlightened ; and that this public never can be trained to the habit 
 of just and commanding sentiments, except under the influence of a 
 sound and progressive literature." 
 
 Surely this is yielding the lady's claim ; at all events, it 
 is a striking and pertinent remark up( 
 improvement. 
 
391 
 
 The Editor, however, disputes these hopes afterwards ; 
 and appears to have a humble opinion of man's acquire- 
 ments, looking at the general effect ; for he says — 
 
 " Men acquire, instead of reason. Instead of meditating, they 
 remember. And, instead of the glow of inventive genius, we meet with 
 fastidiousness, a paltry accuracy, a more paltry derision, — a sensibility 
 to small faults, and an incapacity to great merits. We think," he adds, 
 to my astonishment, " strong sense and extended views of human nature 
 are more likely to be found now than 200 or 300 years hereafter." 
 
 This is a discouraging view of the progress of human 
 nature, and a very questionable one. But, even if true 
 of really great things, of profound learning in some few 
 hands, what can we say of the general diffusion of intel- 
 ligence, and the improvement of the middle classes of 
 society ? 
 
 CXCVI. 
 
 February 14, 1846. 
 A gentleman I often meet with on the omnibus, was 
 yesterday denouncing O'Connell for so abominably rob- 
 bing the poor of Ireland by his " rent." " What should 
 you think of a counsel who ably defended a poor family 
 — rescued them from distress and tyranny — and then 
 set up a claim of his own, that would create a new mis- 
 chief, of equal importance to the sufferers? That is 
 O'Connell's action upon the Irish poor, and indeed a 
 very liberal version of his deeds." " I don't defend this 
 line of policy," I replied ; " however, there are some 
 good reasons for its necessity in his case. One is, the 
 rich will not pay him; another is, the man has sacri- 
 ficed a lucrative practice, and devoted his T^est energies 
 for the good of Ireland, and is entitled to public suste- 
 nance. There is also one other little reason — namely, 
 he is thereby kept alive in the memory of every man 
 in Ireland, which is an important moral as well as 
 physical advantage. But now, let us test ' this cruel 
 distress' upon the poor of Ireland. £22,000 was col- 
 lected as * rent' last year. There are six millions of 
 poor Catholics, one million of whom are adult males j 
 
392 
 
 and if one million subscribe each six pennies in one 
 year (one halfpenny a month), that will make a fund of 
 «£2o,000. Say, if you please, a quarter of a million 
 only pay any thing; they would have to give a half- 
 penny a week. Divide it any way, and, among the 
 numbers, the affair is almost a joke." He seemed per- 
 plexed, but hardly knew how to disprove the calcula- 
 tion : he could not say, that one halfpenny a week could 
 " cause much distress" in any family. 
 
 CXCVII. 
 
 February 20, 1846. 
 
 I have been much pleased to-day in reading an Essay 
 on the " Literary History of the Middle Ages," in the 
 46th number of the Edinburgh Review. I recommend 
 it to your notice. 
 
 The Editor says — 
 
 " The causes by which literature is promoted, are so nearly the same 
 with those by which human happiness is advanced, that one cannot be 
 surprised at the deep interest which mankind have taken in tracing its 
 progress through the different stages of society. It is in fact regarded, 
 and with justice, as the most infallible criterion of the point of civili- 
 zation at which any people have arrived." 
 
 " It is not however so much, perhaps, to its ultimate connexion with 
 the happiness of individuals, that literature is principally indebted for 
 the favour which it has enjoyed. As the manners of men are refined, 
 and the taste for the coarse or boisterous enjoyments of the barbarian 
 declines^ no amusement is found to occupy so delightfully the vacant 
 hours of life, even to those whose principal pursuit is amusement. No 
 pleasure is so little subject to wear itself out, by exhausting either the 
 materials or the faculty of enjoyment. It is one of those tastes which 
 grow by indulgence ; of which the objects become more numerous, and 
 the emotions more requisite, the greater the cultivation which it receives. 
 It is more independent of the will of other men, more independent in 
 point of all external circumstances, than almost any other source of 
 enjoyment. The objects about which it is conversant, too, fill the mind 
 with a consciousness of its own elevation ; while it traces the innume- 
 rable events which are passed, or pierces through the veil that covers the 
 future, — ranges over the globe upon which it is placed, or flies from 
 planet to planet, and world to world, through the regions of infinite 
 space. ■ The indulgence of a literary taste is attended with the delightful 
 
393 
 
 conviction of gaining a higher claim upon the love and esteem of 
 mankind, and of acquiring a greater command over the feelings and 
 passions which render men odious to their fellow-creatures. * If the 
 riches of both Indies,' said the elegant and amiable Fenelon, ' if the 
 crowns of all the kingdoms of Europe were laid at my feet, in exchange 
 for mj love of reading, I would spurn them all." 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 PRIKTJJD BY R. MACDOXALD, 30, GREAT SUTTON STREET, CLXKEWJUflTEI,],. 
 
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