FREDERIC HARRISON BY GERALD HEWES CARSON A. B. University of Illinois, 1921 THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTS IN ENGLISH IN THE GRADUATE SCHOOL OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS, 1922 URBANA, ILLINOIS Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2016 https://archive.org/detaiis/frederickharrisoOOcars UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS THE GRADUATE SCHOOL J <^nk. I -192- 1 HEREBY RECOMMEND THAT THE THESIS PREPARED UNDER MY SUPERVISION BY ENTITLED rlsJijic^ H~OU\AiX3 ( TH BE ACCEPTED AS FULFILLING THIS PART OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF A^/o, )/7 E/?j//sh tn?^n ^ In Charge of Thesis Head of Department Recommendation concurred in* -Ci. V ^ 1'*^ — C. Committee on Final Examination* ^Required for doctor’s degree but not for master’s ‘•, ,4 -'^ ' ■ >t{g: ^te^ wpw^- : B. ' ■„l’r . ■'ftr'^TW !■ r’’ J! 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Liberalisirt; the urimean Y/ar; tne Hapoleonie succession; Brinish iru- perialisiTi; Italian independence, — — 18 III. Conversion to Positivism, — • - - ^:S3 IV. First Publication, -- — -- -- 2b V. Controversy, -- -- -- -- — — — 28 VI. Harrison's agenda (aetat. 30), — — ...30 VII. 1861-1871, — - — 53 VIII. Travels, 35 > *• ' ‘ ■'f ' . «. !^ .il , ' \ ^<-^:yi,. '“■ •“«$*' PS- ?®l?^ - * * 1 ' , f ,--p hi iv>".' »< v'l.trv.'. r: • - - • • /fi - ^ •-.HMM >f i»| , .T jf f , 4 r •*•■"■■’ i. -i; - / .1 , . . J*IK ' j c/c^ A5- i.' JL' . . IX .:u ^^h.7 'X ■■ * , # ‘ ' t ^ . ,* V. ,■ .- f ;:J- J:'./ ^ ■ '‘ ' • •- ■ .,, .. ' ' W’.'« i^vr^i ‘fa . '* ' « i 1 ^ • ■' I » ■ ,'*“'i ‘ * ’ ,m'H ' >fi : .-■• -,\ w;t'*i';'t.- f- f “ t . i»- O''! <'3 : U ;i/?Ti . XTtA • - a- ij,., , -^,1 u i’4)b;o 1 . ' . /• > •,, »A,' • ,, . ' ' 1^ . ‘.a ■ ■" '*'vlV , . - ' ■“• ^ 1 *^, ^ r • . •.: ■' • wtJ* * ■ I ' t '■} A . >v™ .' ' ' .yjf ! y f/r^-2^ ■ ,r,‘J '. ' . 'm '. /,'• ■ . ‘.A.-'’..' wi'f.h *Ai' ' ']’■> -¥ ' • Conoen us teige IX. 18’?l-iyiU, -*• — 37 X, Visit to America’, — — 44 III. Po slxiVi Wk. '*'• _JWL ■ Wm :> i'C :: \ . i i-f ''tlavayy ', |f -rr‘j^ t.^;/; .,/ 1-1 . ttS ^*>4 .-.t. : -li- ;. ''J™ 5s . 'A^ V’i^Jii^VM.,: 4Q«, o4S ^ :i *v' 0rr. -M ,> Ic* I& BJ ' Y'‘V 'JiM'illJ. • I, ..:#y« '■.'lA . '/.Ai^- -:'nflt'Vt-l 'iWi- •l^i 'W4 *4** * v-d* "tu^ <■ ■ft-t'lA''v« ■ '■ II •-tf-v.^ .■n*T ; utii'i c»i . . f "A. .( fr '.Tip 'ijun • w 'Hi r , ■ . , ^'^ Wi. I", t'fO' ;»U'e»‘iii. 54 <''- *io . ^ .» .. , " -Ji: .vJ,. uw 3 * |ft^ y;’0 t" n'u% / i#0‘i Kr^. i A ;r '.V i y ' *>W'' ^ ■'^‘" ^ ' ‘ '■' " ' it ' ' ^ '*’ A " :s> " ■; ■■ I'l. .\ i>; ‘yj.ti»^'r I ' ^ 4 ^■ u It'i ,i-- , . •V-'''’ . ' ,' ' • ^' *-'■ ■ ' itirfSK; ^ . Vl ■ 'J • .' \ ''CW:* attr • u. 4t /IVnJ^^ft'tiifin^Tnfmw n ■ ' ; •|^^■ ' .. ' )T^ - ' J , . '*/“ j I.**" J\i V *J i'. Kg, ' ,, 2 . II. In the early, hard years the elder Harrison formed careful hahits which clung to him throughout his life. He was an economical man, and it was not until he was in his thirtieth year that he ventured to assume the estate of a husband. In October, 1829, how- ever, at St. Pancras Church, he married Jane B^ice, daughter of Alexander Brice, a granite merchant of Mil- bank, whose family, originally from Ulster, viras of Scotch-Irish descent. In the great quarto Prayer-book of the Har- risons it is entered that on the 18th day of October, 1831, at noon, in the Parish of St. Pancras, was born 1 baby yrederic Harrison, who v/as duly christened on December 29 of that year, the eldest of five sons, the son of High Gnurcn parents, v/ith a High Church god- father, Robert Hichen, partner of the parent Harrison, in attendance. The other godfather. Sir John Cov/an, was a wine merchant, and subsequently became Lord Mayor Ox London. Under such highly auspicious circumstances did little ^prederic make his first public appearance. It is a strange misfortune that Harrison does not leave to us any very intim.ate or extended account of his parents, pheirs was evidently a home of culture and refinement, in which the ini'luence of the church 1. The boy was named after his father, the final '‘k" being left off of his Christian name for identifi- cation. t*Tl— . ■ JT- ■' ■'Iff* ^Tm'V "' r. aim ^'I. 3 iui Qv; '’lOT ^'i‘i- V. (? ' *U- -*^. i V V i, 4 V 'l^wiicfe "Uk'. *ih^- ^vr« 1 * .’ : , (,.'i : ♦;, i • *'>.f ' j.».;- i »>• j':'; • ■ ,it<(-Vi-' ^,. 0 ,; rtfi uj^ ■ V . . . '•'i& ■ ^ ■ ■- '■ ^ f'u,M jArra.; -^wpy:4. «-!Hr - ' , ' '. ■'lii'*/’ ' ^' D '■ 'kiL' r:^-' ' 'rt' 1^41 was a constant, abiding force. Both parents were regular coimnuni cants, and fejnlly prayers were read dally by his father, Harrison says, "with admirable feeling", gven while Frederic was very small, he was taken by his father to the National Gallery and the Royal Academy. "My special leaning was to sculpture", he writes in his autobiography, "and as a small boy I had very firm notions of tne respective merits of the ’Theseus* and the 'Illssus*, the 'Laocoon* and the ’Apollo Belvidere*". At ten years he knew the parts and the arrangement of the Parthenon. Nor was the drama neglected. Both parents read beautifully, the father interpreting Shakespeare, Harrison says, "v/ith a vigour, clearness, and grctce which I have never heard surpassed", strangely enough, the Harrison children received no treiining in music, though the Harrisons seem( to have been in no wise deficient in its appreciation. So it was not until he was sixteen years old that Frederic heard the sym- phonies of rBeethoven and Mozart. After that he lis- tened 7/ith delight to string (quartettes, and heard all the great violinists of the ' 40 ' s, even seeing in 184 ? Mendelssohn himself conduct a concert. Muswell Hill, where the Harrisons lived for the first years of Frederic's life, was still a (quiet country village, where life passed in leisurely fashion, not always, perhaps, without monotony. Yet there was Mm ■ J , ' •.^^^•Jl»v.‘■. V 0 -iHa# •’;< •; ii-i 4 ' . ■•■ V' '• i C ^ r p '. 'y''*'w\: . '■' ^ ■“ '1 ‘ '''/■". . ■■‘'■'Hffi t fV , 1 <1 •.|«»* 4 .i . ,JjZ i\ HJ V? • ' ■ •'' •' * . ^ ‘j t o'iiXA* ■ 6 •« ^4a::'fev. ' 'uijfiy# inir^k- •1 s . *■ 0 . ♦ ’ .i» . . ■V Vr f.'i ■:^.-^'#*.'|‘■.'^o^ 4 V«■«,. . . ♦. „'.;^ 55 ^f.*\-:j . iTki psr‘V'-’’>^^' , U'-‘.M«^-i •?■ . V '\.r^ PW I i irl. .. li V n. •" ; '.'^ ; : „ ' , *cift */ »/, r » ^■' •^■’ ■•'* '-"' 4' «»ff • iSfe?-jcy.tiK C* ,'v K.: , i''' ■ ‘ ■ iF43: ' 4'y 'v ■^■'1 r'*’ W’* ’ ’ .S'' '■• '•'.!’' ■ “'■ ”“■ ■■' ** 1' ■‘" ' ’ " ^T43*.4-' !i€i.*jji ■*>a^»'>*:!^- ^^'■', 4 . ,> ;!-i;W'* »'\, i ' 4' ., '..vifr 4^'‘- ^ Vji ' r “vy ■‘!„ /v 4 • i-i 'r^P . ■■ ■"' ^r' 4 variety, too. There were freq.uent trips to London; concerts picture galleries, and the dentist to be seen. Once or twice a year the virhole household was transported to the seaside. They also enjoyed the privileges or more ex- tended travels. The boys spent four summers on the Con- tinent; two at Boulogne, and two in Normandy. The High- lands of Scotland v/ere also visited. Promi what we have seen of the efforts of the Harrisons to surround their children witn cultural ad- vantages, at an age when most children have yet to learn that they have an intelligence as well as a body to dev- elop, it is not surprising uo learn xhat they had defin- ite, and perhaps somev/hat austere ideas on the subject of education. Mrs. Harrison was herself an educated woman. "She and my father studied v/ith great care the principles of education, and were never weary of inviting and com- paring views of all capable persons whom they knew. They strongly adopted tne ideas of 'Home Education' expounded by Isaac Taylor, for whose moral and religious thoughts my parents v/ere en- thusiasts. It v/as the age of the Mrs. Barbaulds, Mrs. Markhams, and Harriet Martineaus; and I fear that the sterner and duller idea of education was tiie one that principally attracted them." ^ j'rederlc was allowed to read poetipy or fiction, and he had never even heard as a child of the ordinary nursery rhymes, songs, and tales which with most children represent the first steps in literature. 1. Autobiographic Memoirs V.I, p.9. w fA ' ■■ ’^'' j- y ' rr:^* ■* '^' ■ .1 s ■ >* ' * ;j|,'^'b*.'wji- ;^y ■TT ■* ' '^‘' yy;'" '3^.'. " ■ “ * ' ' V\ 'iii('""'^''*v “I , 4 ^X^i ''(t, ®4'V ’ ',A ftftfll *y. 4Vi^ |5|‘| ■^ ' s: -;'V' '<■ ‘ u -> If." . 'W » ,i »^4' .'i ■ /; t.» r.tlihfV/:*^* "Ti »y f.‘ . 'V:* « * '‘Jfio '*. t-'-U* /;• ^^'ivU'w ,'Jtt ,t '* ’ , ' VH^st X > l'*xf'' *Af\: yiv-iV t,.-'ri*_./>n:'.fljf idfft'-VyOii.,. ; I T- . , t fji -i>L Jf y^; , »l(^ /Jj; yj I ’ •* •■t'l'Ut^'' Pi' ■ - - - :: ■. '. yai .. . . ♦ ~.Xi.f^ l" . ^ytl^ -ix 'i l rt f>,.Xji, V.rU^’ . I ■ xvi -VW^H ia r, ' ■• »/i iirf.u / . •'o V ■- Tvy>- • -tN • '.V , • I ^ ns Vi m :Ij.' ■ii-'’”fia"’'a''koaifc '* i,'j ■. ■ -.a . ...r^L ‘ - " . I. >‘lj 7ft i»S5'' .■? >; "*•7^' ■'■ ' I fi \ir ' t ■• . < .1, ^ .. j (.*.-ww;,»i,,. -, :y*b. !^2(f f nftr7 :^. W. •I* :’ ^^v 'V r ;‘'3'. «.: .) fij jt^;< 1 •.) ',u. la i' f \ '•.■TO..;' btj'V ' *• ’’ V' ^ '•'W'Ik '■ i'lft * I i 64 ■,^k% 5 . His geographic studies never revealed to him the lo- cation or even the existence of fairyland. Haturally he never made the acq.uaintance of Jack the Giant-Killer and Cinderella. However deficient this scheme of education may have been in stimulating the imagination, it was calculated to make a good positivist. Similarly, a like regime, twenty-five years before, administered by James Mill, had produced a great utilitarian. The Harrison family enjoyed some urbanities which relieved the drabness of a life v/ithout electric lights. "So far as I can remember, a dinner party then was very much v/hat it is now, — except that the host carved his joint, — the dishes, and the wines, and the plate, and the govms, and the talk, which I can remember as a child, when I came in with the dessert to eat strawberries at my mother’s side, were curiously like what I see and hear when I dine with any quiet family in St. John’s Wood now. I remember how the merits of the new singer, or actor, or painter v/ere debated; how the v/onderful achievement of the ’Rocket’ coach was celebrated; and how the gigantic growth of London was denounced by the elders.” ^ ¥/ith the indignation of five and a half years, Frederic learned in 1838 that King William IV was dead, and was to b e succeeded by a girl. He v/as taken to see the ceremony of the coronation, however. Among the im- pressions which v/ere Indelibly traced on his mind, Har- Autobiographic Memoirs, i. p,i2. 'A' iv* '•>,. 'i ^.. :r.-.., -{it vir3 ; '.r ■ i: ' '. S-i. .'^ - i ‘ I ifA % %i it C aiw; 'i^'k . to' t*i >i *♦ " -Jtt i^a-rr -J^ . Beans ' R\^ ' V m iSv- . ‘ A 'V ; i 'iji ' »v - ;•; an ^:tr ^ ^ . it * - I , il*' ,r.-> ,.rd-\t ■ ' /£ s '.^ -■fe-' .'i3 , i.' - ’ttii^;^!^:} .->-^ Tj- >..ii < ii..*a;:i; _ ,.'t.'. 1 iAt4*V•'«'^^; _ ■"■ . , . .’ . t.* :. '* fA . t c cl;;:.© t'# Uff'-’'* ■ . '• -* , i '•> S' ^ '0.^^^:*, ■ i ^* :. - , s'ri^ i(?| If- t awr'^, gy' ■ ' m\ [.'/-' ..-M-ift fi^:..^ . -:\ij^t A in xTv..p ■ '-it , I ilf»*: • .. *■ 4>a«' ■ , , 'fc# tgr h4u»'.«f ’ j3B /:j,'i..c ^ fM-.'^'v.fi^.-...'. I jvi.i. X :/: .> .v' '^S;- ;i^-. • -tl :«Wtt ■ly. ll Hi ;c’ - '■4 «t * T ^ '<< ,.. . li ' ' T ^ .3* 1 '* I* i. '>‘iWJs'X' ^'' ,♦• t*A*f ■\<. , tOV ' Jj ‘ ^C. :MHifi7:^X3^ ,A:r'i;^-'f^x/t; * i-4." it a.»^ WO.'itsv: >4 ki-jiftlia^.^ ■- ! •Ti-i'V>j '. i. • ’’■-i'isi.i ■ ts'irt X|P 4jc*vCi4^^;S i - i ,U» %''’tS'ACi ir • .]|^*^ .• f^.' ,M«;..rv/'^'5^;■■. I’:' j\i ,' ■'•$ rf, 6 rison speaks of "The sense of vastness of the city and people, the intense concentration of all minds on the public festival, the civic enthusiasm (one can hardly call it loyalty) for a charm- ing girl who succeeded to three commonplace Old men, the ambassadors and their trains, the Abbey and its associations, the splendid shows in the procession, the soldiers, and the horses, and the martial music 5 the h\im of the huge crowd, and the expectation of all men; the glow, and discipline, and breadth of the vast sight." 1 One feels, in view of t'nis remarkable sensitivity to impression on the part of little prederic, that his fru- gal parent had indeed done v/isely in incurring the "for- midable expense" involved in moving the whole fsmily up to London, and the purchase for them of "such excellent seats in so central a spot" as a gallery outside a house in Great George Street, facing the Abbey, Palace Yard, and Westminster Bridge. III. In 1840, Prederic being nine years of age, the Harrisons moved up to London. Frederic was placed in the day school of Joseph King, whose ideas on education, the Harrisons agreed, after a long interview with him, were sound, and in harmony ¥/ith their ovm. King "had thorough- ly saturated himself with the new school of German phil- ology as it existed in 1840." So thoroughly did he do his v;ork as teacher, that Harrison recalls that "when I 1. Ibid. I. p.25. DU -T ■ ■../' : ^gK -■; '■•' mS’^’ V pii;w ' ( if P- u’^ !ii- \ ■ » ■ • r“’f: '. M • "J . '> .>»;^ ■ 1' ^cr,;r> l^ «rv ** ^ ^ *0 fiT?:,,,rii^|*i’i * . j .'^r.v •>. «•■ -<%■ .’ ’ ^ ■ '«'' *' * '^ ' -■ i' • w v-titon'i: .-rut.V ', ..\■ _ i »'■ *' ait5\''' V ■ ^ m^ /*■ >ta» ,«u,/- »^t.-v^.yfli: af.'M ^' > ji!aw fc ^^ f 'JO ci4' > • . Veit) ; t * 'rx ® -. . i'Vv'**''^**'* I f 'li z^ . ' ii. A went to King’s college gchool after two years of this system I could read Homer and Virgil, Herodotus and Livy accurately, and was completely and correctly grounded in all the ordinary rules of grammar involved". Within the same period, Harrison learned to read "a Greek play, the ’Odyssey’, and Herodotus, and was master of the Greek accidence and syntax, though never having seen any Greek gramimar". Among Harrison’s contempor- aries at this school were a nephew of Sir Ed^vin Landseer a son of the actor Macready, a son of Charles Dickens, and two sons of Richard Bethell, first Lord Westbury. Harrison was removed to King’s Qollege school in April 1843. Here he developed "a real passion for Latin composition and some gift for it", although his Latin verses "were simply modern verses in the Swin- burnian vein, with little that was classical in the rhythm and turn of expression". At various times in his career at King’s day school and at King’s college School, ;prederic composed ^ngllsh verses on "assignment" The lines which are preserved are regular, scan nicely, but are otherv/ise about what any intelligent schoolboy not devoid of a sense for words would turn out on oc- casion. A typical example may be taken from "The Ship- wreck of St. Paul”: "The air was mild, the sky serene. The v;aters gently foam, Ho dark or threatening cloud was seen, When Paul set sail for Rome." ^ 1. Ibid. I. p.74. ’f »* 4 .1 . ( -Tfif fe.Vi' 5 *f’‘ liiV /V».' (’ni » ' '' •'• , ■'♦,■- ■*' v " li'>v I • .'« j{ i •im€^ T . ;■ o' li ■4 ’’iiiYi ' ^ 4 , V ;iV4#f . , , «|| t; Ja’v a£4-,iW *^{t^.. 1 C ftih- ■ It . 'i.iVr V ixa /t^i*' tV' ■■ - ^ & -t ♦ .• * 3 : A OittA r*' 1 , -• ^ #rr < S^ MU .n ■ > .i.j % r’^0^t.,'*tTiCit', it» *iiij ; ■"'•‘I- J-vi ,'. 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X^‘ li t /*<•♦? ■‘•^''^^2^ r i t* i Itx" |. {, '•! t'\J 7 4*1/ ’ k' ■ :J ■ •Iwl . ■•:'■■• '.'lit?'* _ . . .- , * ’ I”' fity’Ui «A4nlt ' -'ii.L 4 , I I v*-» •4'-9»ili '''-^» '‘ *'f#. .1 i it-'t XifiiH. J *>t»'4Af'u' i© jjiy» ,© ' .-4r iUflp'* 4KIO*!' .1 'y. VI H t'l M • X j\Y luUlfr\A>« "2 iio*! . .vr^viwj 'i.-f,'3 Km «■ , ^ *"”■': 'n ai 4i -‘u 4tk4 tfc , •■ ' JLi\'»;l "'^ ,( *'- AIT » ^ x'•'>• ,4 . |Tj|B il ... **"•' *♦ ■'Jfi*’' i V’ T#- j -V/- I'tfmyt’ . >§ ' ri«f‘^:V"r4i ' f' t --Ai 10 . As a youth, Harrison’s religious faith was sin- cere, grounded upon the uheology expounded hy the moder- ate wing of Anglican divines. He prayed honestly, and rememhered in nis old age that he "had no dcuht whatever of receiving the Holy Ghost if I asiced for it with suf- ficient fervour;... Hor had I any doubt that I received in my lips and drank the body and blood of Qnrist." His religious experience is curious in that he records in it no crises; none of the emotional experiences of despond, exultation, conviction of sin, or sudden, devastating tides of scepticism which have been the lot of most men who vmre, as Harrison unquestionably was, of a deeply religious nature. He sloughed off Anglicanism by imper- ceptible degrees between the ages of eighteen and twenty- four. While he did fall into prolonged fits of melan- choly in his adolescence, such as seem inseparable from sensitive natures, he tells us that he "was never seriously ai'flicted with spiritual despondency.” V. The times were stirring when Frederic Harrison entered young manhood. The Time -Spirit was restless and iconoclastic. In 1848-49 Europe was swept by a succession of revolutionary events which seemed to shadov; forth a rebirth of the principles of the prench j^evolution, and which must inevitably have made a politician of every young man who had a sense for history in the m^aking. BQgllshmen everywhere talked of socialism. communls;n, ft I ‘I ■/.‘if t>mi T'; JiiU ,'’fr.t!!W;,ii :K^:4i’iVi!7n ^ r6 ji*/ >iiflr. ' ■' , f a * ' . ' ■' \ ,n ' ‘ ‘ ' ' '«.( .- ' ’ .1 -.i^. n '4^ftc/w- - *.. ..^i.- 'ic^ ■ ;.,* atuhff^yr ;% : :^'lia;**,'i lo ru'i^ s,iX .Slfflll ' -V-l'*. • ' *- . .. .4. t'Si : > . , ^ . ^''' . ' 'iV' v'f .>«-r •» r> : '^ 4 ; •,!? tt f r >*-J- ^2*,'n.;»1t^ff •• »M>. ' -'‘*TL^'i: '": ■ 5,' ''ij’ ■ ■ “m. ’ \ ' ’ ‘ * » 5 f 4 ,. 5 ,0 J1 •i&lh 1 *1 r : 1 .w W-. ;i4f;*r :^4!'VM;pv "'i ,, itm. Xla^tt^hd r:j\i 1 - t - ^ ‘ . -.A > • - ^ j 1. 1 ‘V • . * J ?f!F;'i ■ ^ ■ .. -•'■ '. '*' S^',’ '‘'- ‘ i 11 and imperialism, T/hile the aristocracy and the pros- perous middle classes shuddered at the threats of the Chartist Movement, and the demagogic utterances of Bright and Cohden. Impressed hy the complexity of the modern life about him, Harrison was too much interested in the procession of events, his sympathies were too fully enlisted here and there, for him to dogmatize or to explain av/ay what he saw by whatever abstract pol- itical theory he may have acc[uired at Oxford. "Gradually I settled into a deep, lasting and passionate sjonpathy with the popular cause every¥;here and in all 'forms. Having no her- editary or acquired prejudiees in favour of any class or of any special type of society, I slowly parted with my boyish liking for conquerors, cavaliers, and princesses in dis- tress, and took my side v/ith the cause of Op- pressed nations and the struggling people. I had seen the niiar’tist movement in London and had heard great debates in Parliament, and I became a convinced free trader and an ardent nationalist . " ^ At this time the greatest theological contro- versy of the century was in full tilt. Its cause had emanated from Oxford, where the High church group, led by J.H. Hewman, Keble, Pusey, and others alarmed at the dangerous latitudinarianism which the fashionable liberal thought of the day introduced into theology, reacted strongly toward Catholic creed, ritual and discipline. Four years previous to this time, of course, pr. lev/man had embraced CQ'l'holicism. This epochal reversal of con- viction had scuttled the Tractarian Movement, while its 1. Memoirs and Thoughts, '^.y. 1906. p.6 . . ... i iz ..^ ' I f y r. f • ■ . N. - c>r -V •10 . I u tio .1 v-AV-IV f . c ’ V 4 !*...> : ; - ' ■ ' i > •• ^ . ' ■■ • . 1 > ’ '?>|V ,, 1 -. 5 - «, • \ 'i I X '. j »■ .'.• oaV S '' ■’ '•' i ' . f ^ •i 12 possible significance liad given pause to the hardiest High ^hurchman. father ITeman was preaching eloquently at the nev/ly established Birmingham Oratory (1849), and was looking tentatively toward the establishment of an oratory in London. Indeed, a powerful cross-current of Catholicism ruffled the smooth, easy flow of the latitu- dinarian current of thought. In the midst of all this hullaballoo, with some vague notion of the - positive attitude of mind toward these perplexing questions, Harrison went up to Oxford as scholar of Wadham collage. (October, 1849). He was in the bud- ding maturity of his eighteenth year, a free, sophisti- cated, and slightly cynical young spirit. Never before, nor in his subsequent life, I daresay, was Harrison less encuTiibered with illusions. Having learned that all things may be challenged, that, as ^omte said with specious bril- liance, ’’all generalizations are false — including this one”, we may easily understand that he felt a profound respect for nothing. He remembers, in his memoirs, that he ’’didn’t look to Oxford with any particular reverence”, for he ’’had already lost all fiaith in its theological and political traditions”. Its authorities, its possible honors and prizes, inspired only an ’’uncureable distaste”. The Oxford system he thought "very wooden”, and tne lec- tures "bores”; the Warden ” a miserly, clumsy pedant; ’’the commoners "raw lads, without interest or knowledge of the world.” These sentiments remind one of the cocksure young Ruskln of gentleman-commoner days, as he 1 L t»'i nS,Tv;?,f?’nCC I si ^ Xi tiV^v . .^inx/six^^tiu: ;.K . ; • 1’ W;- I v'., -■ rS'-' *■ •v''' ’’ •- • ' -' ' '■ *'2 V-S ^1* '::'0 : *«i^'(K ^Xw^ia^f 3^ -r -i.t, ^ *rMfo4 •■ ;i^‘ i n fi’&'r*, >w .’/ tt* ■ ■** ' '**'*■ i| ‘ V ■* r • ot: i-'(6‘'.‘‘0 -jii ot; *.*(6‘'.'‘() -i .. -. jV/ 40»ni'tlir '■' ''^■ '■ 'i ■ ■.^■T Mh ^’r .ti4fkX . »i4kXCcn •X *- *y* C jM ^ :%i y.-'-tti I •7^-K , .■ 1. ^ 1\.4> ■ ' J a ” , „■ 7 i: t i,s ..'' ^ ^ '‘\.''j-^“‘ 7', .._ '^'ij ■ ' ’%,^ ;h U>- ,Vi*» J'^a■^sj^X^^^ ■ ;f -‘ ■"'»■ -V ,&5^ •"':'ii^ ' ■ .. ' i 4;>jxd ..n niX tj»a /Xlq- ita/., Hat iM bM ; ■IS* yXT^ , -■■ '»pR - , r^XiS^t ' jjrlil. \'*UuJL,-Or'.'^. ■'■ '" ■ ' '' ( ' ■ ‘ ;I«i*viw".'. *''^ If ’ c?( .'f'l a-j ^ v.c'" *' h ' r^ ■ M vr r ■•■•#» v^ \ 'IT' ^0 hi.'y, ■»’ . ' IW3iP^«’^^t*',t»*{;:.A 'E^i.!^' ^ ' f' “ - ‘ . 'I .> . *Lj- •V; N ’'' *■> " :*Jil ^< ,' -^ ' si|- i.'t, f ■ ii*:Sy+';itv‘' « tJ LtiJH | ^ jPj3i;'r '0 ^ C-V 1 • ’'iiv' L -v-vf s - • '• ii '■ • '-r S ^ j ^n . .*wlU '*' J ISt, K-' ' _ , 1' „;jS^’; ,-t — -^t‘ ';JQli4 tf-^iJ- ;1 ^■^- IL ^ '• * w ' r ’ • ^ ';jaU4 »yw..r.. ;i • - ,.-•1 ■ if' ■■ ,1- 1' i-^'Ji .V -'• M |Nh . •■ ^-. .> r(ti ' iyjkp'34 iSl^Ji''#’ , i' <-'%;* 4 ‘ *1^'; ^‘*\» , * i- '1 '> )• - » eJ. It f 4^ ' 4 •-->■*. l y*i /jf -iTY,' .'5^.it; •'•v.Xwfi *%t c - «*i;4 ‘ A^i.jivl f. ' . ^ - - ■ ’ -». ri '.' ■''' , mar, : . .. .. ^ m.. -■£/: -vi % ^ r6»i ■vXiuiJt.'; ■•4'tO’^' iJ ^X^iixur-::^ Is'i nt --■pwfcC); ..fiiJi' 4WJ., ; 5. 2jA^i«fc ' '#^, ^ J,:f ■ 14 . F.D. Maurice, Sir James Stephen, Dean Milman, Plato, Bjrron, Tennyson, Kehle, Coleridge, Carlyle, James Mill, Crete, Lewes, Spencer, and the tv/o Martineaus. These were the years in v/hich were published Kingsley • s"Alton Locke", and "Yeast", and Ruskln's "Modern Painters", and the "Seven Lamps of Architecture". They were all thor- oughly pawed over at these undergraduate "tea-fights". In 1853, Harrison took an "honorary" fourth class in history, contlnuJ.ng in residence for two years as Librarian of the Union and as fellow and tutor. Then, in accordance with his father's earnest v/ish, ne proceeded to Lincoln's Inn, where he arrived in November 1858, to begin tne study Oj. law. VI. By this time, Harrison's religious views had departed far frora tnose of tne youtn who cajne up to Oxford six years before. The mutation had been accomplished by a process of slow, cautious, evolution. "I remember a conversation I heid with E.S. Beesley on my ovrn views. I said that I was then (a year" or so after I came up to Oxford) in the state of gestation . and that it would take me nine months oefore i came to birth. In the meantime no one could know whetner I was a boy or a girlj and I was not going prematurely to decide that question'.' His emanciimtion 11*0111 iniierlted beliefs v/as first l-)Oli iiical . As a disclTile of Cobden and Bright he was a hot Radical long before he had ceased to be an ardent Christian. In tne year in which ne attained his majority, 1. Autobiographic Memoirs. I-p.97. i ' ll i I II h l fc i rfm ^ m .,....' '■ .e»trrv?a«a'^ ■\-t r'».ii *■•• '■V 1 ■*?•■' ' ' • ,t''W( XfV '' V '1 =■• ~ '• ' * ^ ■ H^Vr. . -■.>•-■!■•.• ..v-; »r^rv:-r’V ^ ^s-'r^uk- ' r*:S r- iii y- '*-,”‘7' »s3fl % -\- i. i ?■.-.. .,• L*.— -i A ’9^i- ^•4nAfr . f.c -VT ■ ■ ‘ \y, •^,i - - - V- ,...\, j-.-', ' I ^ . i ■>'■ ''.^ .» :. «. T ■ ■ i 4 ■ % . i J X. T ^ ' 'k <^^r. ' Afi: *. t ■ ‘ -I tri fe* ■■-vD* i p ■f * j'' ^■{J;^'"' ' ' *V t%h^' I'r' - ^ ■ . ^ ■ * 1 - ■ ■ :> i‘ 4 - n ’ 1 ^'‘;: ^ C,'f^(#^ , • t-. 4 | .X ' » *' *i - t *■-'- ' - y. > Villi' ^ *i'i£^- 4 .., ,-. . ■ s... ,.w.: u ». , .•■ »> , ,if' 7 r*yoi<’'-' A' ■ TT:... '.. • ■ <;li 4 ,-,. V 3 - .isH: '*'r..nn% f V ' .1 , f^y i,’- •;- tirj.i ,S(,. I • I, -‘-'■■"Si'--"' ''*^.S>/;. ♦- ..ii .till, vy : .£ ^v,^^v 4 , w. ■^ 4 ' 1 • -‘<‘, ' ' r -Yi '>T :■ ■ Br ^•^.' « _ .*'’ «“♦ 15. he refused a pressing invitation to Join his family at tne spectacle of the Duhe of 'Wellington’s funeral be- cause of his strong anti-militaristic views. By this time, however, his reading had included Harriet Martin- eau’s redaction of Comte's positive philosophy. His remark that "August Qomte seemed to explain them all" (theologies)^ gives a strong hint as to the sex of the offspring. In the last year of his Oxford residence, Har- rison had his memorable and sole interviev/ ¥/ith ^omte in Paris. Comte received him graciously, and q.uestioned nim on his studies. He learned that Harrison still called himself a Christian. Finding further, that his greatest deficiency was in the direction of science and mathematics, (;iomte exclaimed that that accounted for his mental condl- tionl Harrison mentioned several points in the positive system xvhich perplexed him, on each of which Comte "spoke for ten minutes or more with extreme volubility, precision, and brilliance, and at a pause, asked me if he should con- p tinue this topic or pass to another". Comte" spoke en- tirely as a philosopher — much as J.S. Mill would speak - not at all as a priest." Harrison was at this time fully convinced of the validity of. the arguments of the philoso- phy of experience as against those of the intuitional school, and accepted Comte’s viev; of history and society without, as yet, applying it to religion. 1. Ibid. I -96. 2. Ibid. I -98. W 9 L. -\./ .: *-. ' Xlz “ . ‘ ' ' '■ ‘ ■ ' - • i ■ ;‘-Dti 4 * '/*;.-* in bi^i t. : -'4 . _ Kv '' T J' , ,, * *" , ,', ^ ■ ^ '•■in,, ■ '’X /.4 n VtS' f .V- ,: --.i,*' .•’* i. * •■ 4 - .'* fip i ’' ' ■•■'V ^ ‘ i"’'‘.. .VUKSiHt 'i^l; ’ .^'iillKfl ^ •' r ■-' ^ F' -’T.-;H , '’C*. . ,, , f C ipsra f'V _ ' 1 * *yt^ -'^ 'r- '' * "i ’ J&AV’J^CJ *^>^4 •” [ ■■ :, '-’^ , •'' '’,T ' V^ 'V ?,r.rX •',/ 2 ^ ir<:: f:''.'iltX>ir i ■•'*< v'' • r,ii=-ifc'’n< 2 j 4 j^ ■ ■’ , ' '" 'jWJi . j _^' . '* t 'fc ,»•'•• ^tUfXxii^ ~yvlw 6 «!n » W_,r. Tjd ,%-£>•/ i.:Uj^ ao^tin^oU > -‘ e n j. Tdd V.. .1 ■V C’ stB f ■' ;F' 1, ;*.•'« ’ -.^Sv ’i''!'* >'!;i|i'' 3 .X '-d'^ ■^- -•115 — r'fw-' ,*'• ■-•■ ,, >■• ‘.- ■■• .■ 4 ..V .4 ■ '. iV;i]. 4 i^ -;U^ ;r' ..’■* ' * s. :,.: >'• v>j;i. .irt t ‘.';7 xJl 1^1.1 j . I »-'* i...' .». o**ofti ^.’v ■ -TT n 'y.; j, b[ ' ' ’ ' '. , ■ ' ^ „,. :• ' , ; ■ j t , . ' ',,. ’..-' ‘'■■•'* i> •’ ' < I '1' > 'i('’ ■ Xj,' ‘ -f f "* ' 'ip ■ " '•-M' ' —HjWj:'; s-ss-ii;# :> n, '.„'Jt:*i ■ • '^. •' ■" # #fii‘ -“SMto : •■ II The Middle and Later Life of Frederic Harrison I. Harrison's wary approach to the law was not one calculated to arouse very sanguine hopes for his future in the heart of his practical-minded father. Frederic v/rote to the elder Harrison: "I should he sorry if your interest in me led you to form any very definite plans or hopes for me; for surely, hov/ever anxious I may he to follow your wishes — my career can he no other than my mould of mind, my feelings, and faculties reciuire; and I should he sorry you should propose for me any result for which my whole nature is unfitted. Yet, whatever it may he, and I assure you it is a subject On which I speculate very little, I trust it may not he altogether useless or unhappy. Every- thing tends to confirm my original plan of taking the har. But I hope you will not form expectations too definite, remember ing the somewhat gueer fancies I have got in my head." Indeed, it was less with the resolve to succeed in a legal career, than the determination to amend the de- ficiencies of his education as pointed out by Auguste Comte, which actuated Harrison at this time. He ad- dressed himself grimly to elementary textbooks on astron- omy, geology, physics, and biology; attended lectures by Richard Owen, Huxley, Tyndall, Livering; studied anatonom- ical collections in the British Museum, and dipped into fat medical encyclopoedias. Harrison enumerates two im- 1. Aut Ohio graph is Memoirs. I - 141. .i ''.'J'T f^i:^*-'- : *• o :'J ■«'i. “B?' ?'■■'■■■ ■ ".Sj- * i rrav N I * . Ui. i^' i:>% \ "*■ ; xi z.'wnjf' i'- t i t«^f 'iJ'i .> t. -;o ^ ^ B . ' -ti i».u‘kf '-ftt* V *iw' •vVa ' _. li to .4 M I.* 4 - t.* 4 ^•n^l.>.l^^^^‘J^/£,^V, . if^l , , • »ia - *' r ^ ■ '-^ ■ T r;„ 5 \ ."■ ‘ »*A R:‘";«A ^v> ^iVXX^ X - --.. •1 I; i/u •,.- •■ I ^ '^jr*.;; w *v. \n *x^V o ; O'. *-. :'.-,-:.'%'' 4 . — •. ■• 'i':,y. ' 'f:.!*.. -' " V>il ’,'5 *- '4 ^^■'•■ . • .' ‘ 'A' tU aVi*. ■j-'/ .i'v IX (, ij.-.' 4 ..f: I. *»a\ i'' ‘i?f r .||||^^.^v,(; . ■^'^ v.S^^to ;.* ’•jt" yi 3 | 0 < >’ ,j!l -t iy?|' ;■ -< •ulti ! ,j^ ^i v,;i /li’ Jv; •- tf . .1 ^, rtv*. Sr- • '’. H ^ * j' ^ ■'/ *.' ' -Vlt/rf'T •■ . .. ' _»;«'. *41 iv„*»• ■^ i''i.*f » '■ • ■> r it..' ♦... iiv *:.wi!^.'.‘ •’(' ' J5*''\ . VjW;-.: 4 r;-€i;ulAi «!fc‘ v t i f :’.'• '• < . ■• ' .•■ '■■ " ' . ' ' • ■*%;. •-• A- ' .’■« (;■' ,1 fV m * '■ \/ '■■/■T''i 'Sij-’W *s ,l 5 ":, ‘ 4 *■.' ^ 4J •• _d I /: . V pj ,»p, 1 '»^r •_ ' . u. ^ -|i: o. 2 l^J£; -.S ' :. ' , I' 17 portfeurt benefits which he incurred in this study: It ac-’u q.uainted him iilth Comte's classif icatiD n of the sciences. Furthermore, he "was saved first from a pedantic specialism; ... secondly, from the presumptions folly of attempting to settle ultimate principles by vague hy- potheses and so-called intuitions, without even an elemen- tary conception of true physical law." The latter half of this remark gives out the motive of all his subsequent teaching, and defines an attitude of mind fundamental to his thinking. This formidable program of self-development^we may easily bell eve_^" cruelly interfered" with Harrison's legal studies, nor in truth was his attitude toward his profession propitiatory. "I took an invincible antipathy to the whole con- veyancing trade. In 1855 it was a Jungle of antiquated fooleries kept up by the pedantry and the interest of those who profited by it. I never even could bring myself to take inter- est in the absurd artifices of its cumbrous style (though it had a style of its own), and I confess I looked with undisguised contempt on the pundits who took interest in it for its own sake, aS the excellent J. Williams cer- tainly did."^ Harrison continued diligently to neglect the law for history and philosophy. He Joined the Working Men's College, of which, at this time, F.D. Maurice was pres- ident, and which numbered Kingsley, and Ruskin among its active sponsors. 1. Ibid. I - 149. Harrison was a pupil of Joshua Williams at Lincoln's Inn. iA ^_'i *>iJi, ' • {^ ^»4WWNim«l ' ' w:‘n ’Ti’^Finw i?». iT‘f i%h ^4 •' ■ ' I * % ' - i.' ^:’i'^' s^trST^ I . * . ,. afiot^Uie-e*;! -viJi. -r,w\ ; , ^'.^uv6rv»'s 's *V*^ '* .; jirf^'tV'i... 4rrT^tiy .j ' * ,^i , ' ' ^ 3 t 1 ' ^' ''*^' - r '' i' "' • k- - * '% ‘j^A. . . t-tf.' ” . •■ rf af if » t^-jMt/r, ou ii-jr4f i„ ^ (. . c4’'^?(ir‘'*"^Uv iV.i.H' ni^*4:',..t21. , I .. ^ ; ■" ■ -\ ^ , ^^.v,yy- Im-y 1 ,;_ fiur . /, .;uw .‘4 *ra 5 :*i^t >o ' . T * 0 ^'"t.. I •• *_4f ■■ '.y. • * .v%4v i'4x *'ij;Av'r f ■ ■ ■’,’§ K < f ‘ ' ,, :. ■^- . ' ■ ' ■ '■ ■ t ' V .l'3t i'/v; ■ -’.ua 'iSi-i') 3!'n . ^ ' •rTi'i •'' -■ ‘ • ftE»' . \ V w1 Av ; I UJrf> ,A/f . '. (,»' ir ^ .7 ^ ,’ /■ « | nfi * : ' :4 • .%; »'^i. '‘^ ' .‘^ti *. \ £.,. f' jtUo*»\Lvi- jiT} '■( i-v>^* ■Ts-TiV t UVt " ^ V . 4 .r,^ u .■»:■. ^ s? .Tit:, ^ ;, ,».> i* : 4i V 4 ‘ ^>*‘i L*'"' i'i '"*t'».( »sijBi'. 'CilK‘ iiiikt i'itiitAi i-'.iJ*%'^‘ 'm h r > '. ■ . ' ■•■ 'V- ■' Lti l^o; • JiJL ^’f 4'V? - ^ S; - ;5 ,.4’" '.V ^ mi m . ";l * “■ ' ' :•■*,■>• ■»- -' • ' ■'•*' ••»?' ■' ' ” |r' ‘|,. ■;. ' t ™ »# “ jiyVMMi 6«« J,\ li'.'*(Sir# i'tatsrt *six r-' i ’ ■ ' ' 41"' ' e* fc* 1 ■ ■'■ ■;:: . ' ■• : :■?.:>. /4'..,^ ■ :. ' ■<-' .H ' ■>, j'V ^ -LS^fe v.' ';?srt , .j, ‘ “431^ -.. ■■ ,,*■ _. -^‘^r.,, 18 . II. Harrison attended regularly the sermons of Maurice at Lincoln's Inn Chapel. He credits Maurice with having achieved his definite and final ahandonment of orth- odox faith by presenting eloquently and forcefully the narrow, sensuous, revolting side of the Old \^nx>tA -■•.r* \‘j i.frt,'u[»■» J^. ai? ^ f -=A ^.v--.-^-' • • ■•■‘ V V,-, ^ ^ JL.<.■, . » , ‘\.ii tfc® , '^:r*' a iyw •i7v\. *-r:^’,*i^; iia- ./ 'OitfciijO’-'i :.„ ' ,. ;v^ ' .ur/jc/^Vf \^', ,Jl^ .y,», . I.. nJ^i-yAi .• nt’’ 1" • ; ’ ayh »■ . s it ■ ,_. Be?'.,.'’':'' Irl Tn After three years study, in 1858, Harrison having ’’picked up enough law to carry me on decently through a mortgage, or will, or the pleadings of an equity suit”, was”called” to the "bar. He summarizes his situation at this time with mellow irony. ”I was now twenty-six, and I fear aimless and useless. Having a modest income axld no am- bition of any kind, I had no particular aim in life, except to improve myself, and make up my own mind . ” 1 It was, as Harrison himself noted, a slow process. There were, hov/ever, signs of something stirring. ”In the seven years that had passed since I took my degree, I had become rooted in a conviction of the universal reign of Law, of the possihility of a real Social science, and in Comte’s scheme of historical evolution.”^ His acquaintanceship was widening; he was forming con- tacts which were to he important later in life. "At the house of Richard Congreve I made the acquaintance of f^eorge Rliot and of George Henry Lewes. At the house of john Chapman, ;p;ditor of the”Westminster Review" , I made the acquaintance of Francis Hewi'aan, Herbert Spencer, R.W. Mackay, and other writers in tne •‘Review".’’’^ Harrison’s social-mindedness manifested itself in his continued concern for the welfare of the Working Men’s College, which he describes as flourishing "on 1. Ibid. .1-153 S. The Creed of a Layman. II. Y. 1907. p.S8. 3. The Creed of a Layman, p.22 A'xv^Twk* ■«»!-’ • A ^.. V .*i* . . ; ^ ' iH't ' [• .111' It I ' !' v' . » - ■ ^ ■ ' I ’, L-. M rt'ej;/ ' py t f.v > . . 'SJ 'ijf ' , ■ , ^ !.v, ,;\ V v”" ,-V: ■ '. ' ■ '’'V ■ •■ V''« ll J'ui A' ' 4,-.HIHi»/ 1 yvo/ w .‘.'y ;. 'n' :il tM ) r-'-feift /■=• .. >x i ; 1 ,. wx«,)OtT ^ ^ ,;i. '.:.... .. *w;Ad» * '• ''v^wiK fi* •>?»! i**’ • » • ■ -''> V : ' V-^'_ ■ .R'^- /^ .. ' ■ /#! . . * c/ .tf . ' ‘ . *' V V. “I V. 'lAl ' >.fE;; to , '■ -vt^ th} - t i,,.; .^^>■h yjt.'.A-'ti %v’ <»'.'.t-4t'.T|- -- ^ 45^*.- .^Tcv. vt,0; j ' .Syi>-'jpu . ' ■^'' ‘ ' ', A -i, /’• • -y. I 4 ' • A.:: .;y., ■* t- * -W-' ♦• • 'I ■' • ' ''4*f . ,/< 'i • ■ . *« • iii/ ^f(A • ,r>. o,ta^: . 4 ^ ■ 1 ’. -J ■ '' r:;',' '•“ ^ ' •' ^ .. .'■ Ik '— .' \ . ■' ■ ... I--..' iji., ■ Sfl •:« ■ ■.: „,i* . , ' y ; ,*< i^-.v ■JA' S»|J»I,'. . J5 • ^ •'lll-iiit . 'i.4-.l '. .<■. . ^ i' , . i / fV. ' 20 the basis or the Christian Socialism ox Maurice and the muscular pnristianity of Tom Hughes, as a useful and well-conducted school of secondary education on the es- tablished and moderate lines, with some Christianity, a little arm-chair Socialism, and a mild infusion of real working men."^ His allegiance to the liberal thought of the day became complete between 1853, when he left Oxford, and 1860. It is instructive to study his position in the light of the political movements of the times, as that of a typical liberal. The Crimean War roused Harrison to vehement protest. He tried to get up a debate in the Oxford Union on the subject. In 1855 he reacted violently and anti- pathetically to Tennyson' s"Maud" . "The appeals to patriot- ism", he wrote, "are intsrv/oven with an unworthy philos- ophy. Admitting the wild music of many stanzas, they trench on the spasmodic school." John Bright won the enthusiastic approval of the pacifistic young Oxford rad- icals by his eloquent speeches against the war. "Every day I admire that man more", Harrison vvrote ah*ter learn- ing how Bright held Parliament spellbound by his great speech of February, 1855. During the political Juggling of the war minis- tries, Harrison nourished the hope that out of it all would come one great good, an opportunity for the principles of moral suasion to assert themselves. "I 1. Autobiographic Memoirs. 1-159. .jHyjjfei if y. .8*1 ' .'I' - ■ ; ' 1 M ' ‘ V- * fa ,;h;jl,:..r jfA.,0 V .r ^ 'i ' V . .1 i. t ♦ # n , • j)H %,v'i V "* u, a rm^ •' ,.•.#/ ,>w.' %o - •• .••■■. . ■ kNJ-' / ' ^' k.f ’ > - i. j.*, -li.' a. I ’ i V « fejjer ♦ ;ri tiait'pL’iB < nl/i tlSP-.' •*! 4^- 4' * .'4! \ -i' :i!^ h ^ : ■ ■ ’. f i\ -, V; V *"'1 (t*'*'".'??.. ■ r *»i- ‘‘-v V/ i • ii; ■»: A o>x . *j*i *ci >ju •. . •*' M ‘ ' ■ « j Hi . . • V -V - <^i vf J' ,M« '■■f.*. ' v ' jM.,< ' 7 , t- . T-Acv in '^ 4 ^' Hs,. . ‘T'!i m , • w LVJjIk ' .* . -jo. ' .'. 4 |' |./ ' i/>i .»' '” 73 HP 7 ^ '-’^Ttw^Afti 4 r* :■.••; ^.c.- ">v£ .1 f ■' s; ^ , ■■' . , -.n. j .- ■ -lAX ii '*f4 ■^iLi!i * » V 1 ^ < , - . t PM ■ '■•■Vl' ;. >.-• mfi ?• iWlo’ ''4’ i'.;. ' .®il 'tW-i5 1^1: . . B 'U! ' ftC -«/**% 'V.* » r ' j>ii« 4 '..v » • ' % -'id ' - .«<“?• ■• - • *1 ^ I ,8' ?T- Vw " t . .> t *ft*T£! ' » » 0 »8 '* I .C-Ui ^'1 •s^ , . >■.' ,^. 0 rtJ-,wTn V- it: j' I' i i •«» riv:-. ‘■.•i io ?;* ■; ^ V j ■»>.,■! ., .ifi . 1 ^'-;^^* •?#! ? 1 ** .. .«’:*':si*i-» "'IHjI . 1 J., ,ir^. 21 see the rise or a real People’s party", ne ivrote to a friend. "The really honourable contest is this moment beginning, numbers against property, that is man against things, in which the true appeal to the individual’s moral responsibility comes into light. Louis Napoleon and the j^npress Eugenie presented France with a son in March, 1856. The news, with its sinister possibility of fixing the succession and pro- longing the Napoleonic despotism, caused Harrison to take up his pen in an apprehensive, furious mood. "This young serpent who has just been hatched into this troubled 7/or Id is sure to wriggle into some place v/here he can be mischievous some thirty years hence, unless the French manage to scotch the whole nest at once." The hope, so far as the uni'ortunate babe was concerneci, was almost prophetic. The young prince’s career was ended in his twenty -third year by a Zulu assegai. Harrison’s views on British imperialism and the white man’s burden were stated passionately on the occasion of the outbreak of the Sepoy rebellion in 1857. He tells us in his autobiography "I wrote furious letters to any friend v/ho talked to me about 'the mission of the Anglo-Saxon race’, 'the inferiority of Orientals', 'the boon of British civilization', 'the value of the modern coirjmercial spirit.'" Harrison was pessimistic about the 1. Autobiographic Memoirs. 1-165 2. Ibid. 1-169. ■ » iAm , ! ! f ¥ ' I IMfff if] " ^ ’ i* ■■ ' * •‘* . . .' - ■• .. i'»i '• ' --^ '» ■ f ij. .*»>o . ' C{. • "? if.* :.. -t-ir'p '«wt^ * ii coi -f //V ^ brju^^x '.. 3- .0.4* •^,- *:-V- • , '.< ’: ,/‘i 03^ ' :^^mm,. taillf '•i. ’ ' J 'V'W : ■>< ■ -1 ■'.' 'f ' h. . J-*f* .»• **J • 'v^ *.v*» = -■ ’ nor >> i* t . V : V . .; *,s , - uj# wtA ‘ • • . .♦ -.'■ ’Tf-^Bi .%■. '-,. ' ,- ii ■,. ,s» * ■ f * ■'■ *i *jQ c ir,i ;.v i y^' ^r rt/jR, <» : J ;, f4M^ 5h - ,: tV < . /\ .Ju.- 9.4 ’ 'igr«-v.‘ i ' t.-* j^ *' V o,i 'f. *‘4L^ »^ '-£lv«i .* “v^ ' j^amrrjCy *4f 22 whole British regime in India,, He thought the hope of the assimilation of Western culture by an eastern people a vague, delusive dream. He justified his views on his- torical grounds with copious citations. All in a heat, he asked in November, 1857, "Can 30,000 cursing soldiers, as many lying traders, and 300 canting ruissionaries, not fit for a day school, overthrow one of the oldest and most elaborate of oriental systems?" This opinion he modified later in face of the apathy of India, as a whole tov\rard the revolt, and the apparent willingness of the people to submit to British dominion. Harrison remained from this time henceforth, however, an ardent anti -imperial 1st. No liberal could have been more sincere in his sympathy with the national aspirations of Italy in 1859 than Harrison. He se^ to v/ork with great energy to organ- ize an Italian committee in England for the purpose of arousing and directing public interest in the cause of the people. Bright, after being sounded out, proved tepidj "he only talks about ’Reform', and knows nothing of the 'state of Europe'". Many liberals remained neutral or hos- tile because of distrust of Napoleon, parrison did suc- ceed in interesting Francis Newman, and the two of them together, with a group of frieiids who rallied to their assistance, printed letters in the newspapers, particular- ly the London "Daily News", championing powerfully the cause of Italy. Their hopes rail high v;hen Napoleon es- poused it. But they were stunned and crushed into silence by the armistice of Villef ranee, July 6, 1859, which ap- ' X’ 'OT ' ..i ^4,5 V ' IT,. •/•■’V'v>'Ty n*%«flp •‘■If ! Orif 'fe- vi/.v«l ... i ,1'i‘i. -r L” •. I ■ t\i*ji"\ z.ji?.<':^. r • ■ JilJr % >- « ,v / tf.* Ttn uv>i:i o* Fjttijj l*,i‘ . • 1 \d'X - -.^ «>, '-iV •' . „ J )' ,y ,i' >i- U'!n ;»'. .IT^ ,3 U4. .-^:.;;.3 o 9-* - 3T , p' * '.' ' ■- hjist s*. --'^l .. ";J’''“r*4:3 ,»r .J|<^■ :’frfi y’itii« , .^1 * «» . A Oi ^ • I. , ■*• '*'iv'4(vlW=Al «' ^ V- ; • V ■'SH® %lp ■■ i »«;l ■•'•0 V - U^:£ •'.' ^-. : ' fh,. ■-^'’ ,' i'Miil iin' ■ r » -t‘ ■»'•'!*> ■ • ■•-f| -nv*' T**.' i\K w -4'jf( ■n ;''f , V:-'- ' :*-* ■ ’^* . '■ ^ '’ ' ■■ ’’‘”;*U '” C ^ r ' . ■ •■- .- JUf ' *!' :,• .'v't y i# '4V4o n^ 7'^ ' '••/. »tv tt.5 •T‘r-r: iKJ ,\T ■ Ui^ Siitf ■nfi.i'i t - ■■' • ,i ^ ,^- . 4 4xi.i«€ -r r r Vk,- ■ ,.. ■ ’•i.--/..^. •it>« .«J ••is ii »/^ w,w4 ,k tv.- • 1 •U# ■ • *, » * ' .f » . ,s. hi.3 ■• - 'i •••»vl • . ■> ■^••■/‘to- y mt ai.) ,i , ilia 'j n>it^C:l t. \ k •’'■■ .1'.. 1 ^' . ■>' ‘i!»ll N-' r IP I . . :^: ^U'-'y < -vri: »A ^-Lti I ../ s)S^ "•.•f - . -.y':v7'iKyPtO '! f ' 'Jfl ,|j^ r.''j* ; r , J i. '■'■»;■■. «,'i .‘•‘ ■ . . V , ’ ■ '. '••'Vl ,vAacK-*,t.^njf^ -’inf -U, 0 .* »t V*»Il,‘4^ 't i«^'' ’O IP A'. ' .. , I ■ . ■ ’ ’ w ' ■' .»’■■ , ■ *■ -i . .'-Lj tf- - •til fJ‘ V ^,.'|^VA'i '- ' ' <:, "V.i r p ^ ^ ^ *' ' « * ’ ■ ^ t: . Jiliriui^; '' V 1 ' : ''' ^ I: ^ 3 . peared at 1‘irst blusn to be notjaing less txian a betrayal of the Ix-alian cause. Hope revived on Hraneis Joseph's manifesting an eager desire for peace, i^eeling that "the resettlement of Italy would entirely depend upon the wisdom and the energy of the ItaJian statesmien and the people, and to a very large extent upon the support of England" Harrison wrote "I now saw clearly that much more v/as to be done in ini‘luencing public opinion, now the war was for the moment ended, than in the midst of a cam.pa.ign. I made up my mind to go to Italy and study the situation on the spot, and I left England for Turin in August 1659". ^ Armed with introductions fromi Italian republicans in London, English Italianissimi, and the credentials of several London newspapers, Harrison invaded Italy, visit- ing Genoa, Leghorn, Elorence, and the towns of Tuscany, Bologna, Ravenna, Parma, Milan and Lugano. His letters to the London "Post" and the "Hews" during Septemiber and October were very favourably received, and, due to the exceptional ox^portunities he enjoyed, embodied the most authentic information sent out of Italy during the event- ful fall of 1859. III. V7e may conveniently date Harrison's comiplete adhesion to the positivist philosophy from January 1, 1861, when he was thirty years old, just beginning his practice at Lincoln's Inn. On that date he confided to his diary a complete summary of his philosophic beliefs 1. Ibid. Auto. 1-192. ■ ■ -^{S* ■ | ~ M > - .: ,tWm^ r . 1 #$*? ^iisT ^ tijn v ..j. f ’I, ’ ‘ £ 2 £^«rr-; : . j|.i; ^^( 4 . i 1"*-* r'-^ ‘ lB®i" •'•■•‘■' ^r.¥'k»lQ^"^V5;^ *iO't‘^?3|K' ‘ ’ ' ^ ■' • . • . »r, .iJ "■4 *» .!*»**«•*«•*«' "- • .Vs'isW^ • rff . .^4 >• *■ |.f i .._ -*i ... . . ^ '■. * ■ Jy i: i r"-; *■ . Si fi^' fi! ,> - [ ; ■*■< ■ fi ■' -• r 'i t*' * ’*■'■'* ' '-v^' ' ' ’''■^'i * . i dLi AOV* '!»,.- ■ ■<» r/dif-w ,c...v.);,.T|i «.; vsWtald/i^o tiiiSsMio^^ V - 'JR 1 * *« ",.,>) >', ■ ^ I^Mh^ ; • .■ ..i/> >.•/>*; r> : : 1 H ;,'>. i'' . V, pi (t ir : "’^iJifl .-1^ -> * .< fi -tit., T-t,, Ji 2 k«J 5 J’ • ■ , 1 ... 'i ' < ' , ,.f ?-M r air,; ,. 5 ^. I « I*’ » . ■ ' .W • .a f '^JT- , « f *r , iVi*. , r aVoiLlia ' pn .tJ^_.,^,^,-:'. loKai. . fijfff-Mii I -^"tiMii: l^|l^B ^■MirigitrtMBi -- ,_ '"i '<•• ^ . 24 8.nd religious aspirations. The coni'ession of faith began with the declaration "I believe that before all things needful, by an » ^ i. fi , i ■ lA ■ ■ 'i ’ ?»*■' ‘ .if 1 - i WSWo- ' 2 ' 1 'f \k *'~!7 ^ - V .•• ‘-a.h ;V'ii;' . tO;* v . .v f A (W ■■■* ‘ i tf'iiV'i W ■ B|V'ii;' .-fOe* V . .V r , ’ < ;v* ^Hjx ,:L -..■ ■■ u-4T ., ;--•, ,tM. ' ■ ' -' -V 'i^it -.'StaBL •jr ■' * ,(:'i»wi^.'.*^ 4 -'■r;i^ jv^ 'd.': I ~.’i ifc L iT.m^ fi 'j:-»''j'; 't_v. T* i'i ''r 1 ■■*’ ^ • <>, " «t{ '*1 ' -'■ «;.v , rVftii;? '■ '■'^i ,#•'-■■• ' '■'^i M ' & ■ ■; ■ til.- «.- f .■ ■ . V - . ■* '.‘‘ui^kjM .?»-tvu.!t.- ‘ • •) '*^ •>.-?»» ,ni . ' j .. .' >i'‘ 1 .' t- >w Ja ’*'' * S- '- i* '** I *'iO tf- . . I 'H J •V mj. ' f* ■-^■- -si.'flr ■ .i’ u 4 j: ; »r_: |U'*» . ->u •* V h/ij .? 4 ,.'fqi r'/.-wfit ^tii 'I t’ ■jttO ' .. ' ' ; '■•i ■ _i , ■'.• *. ■ . • . ^ V . f ( r". ■ . ' k^.. . ^ • - ■■■ '■'• ■'■ ,.».M.«>i^ i. ■»:;'' J •’ /IV ■*w \ ■ . I ■"' .r.*' '’‘■■■" '>.1 r,^-. ?■-,• i ! - .*' ife;.i',,:^^i; ■'irit ' . '’.A,, k- 4' \ .TT ..'I'l?' .; !i fTI/ .(v"'^’. iV. 25 . IV. Harrison made his bow to literature in the "V/estminster Review" in October, 1860, when he was twentj''-nine years old, as the author of a criticism of the faiLOUs "Essays and Reviews" (1860) which aroused his indignation. He said of it "The more I read the book, the more I felt its real imiiortance as a manifesto of latitudinarianism, and its cynical insincerity, shallov/- ness, and muddle-headedness." Harrison's sense of the fitness of things was outraged by the spectacle which pre- sented itself to him from all sides, of men who in their private minds partially or wholly repudiated Christianity, remiaining tranquilly, and he felt cynically, in their pul- pits. "I had heard Maurice, Mansel, H. Bristow Wilson, and Benjamin Jowett",he virrote, "propound from the pulpit what I felt, and still feel, to be radical rejection of the forrual creeds and Articles of religion."^ Dr. Joihi Chapman, editor of the "Vifestminster Review^", previously mentioned as an associate of Harrison's at this time, con- sented to publish an article on the subject. Harrison set to v/ork on a criticism of the seven essa,ylsts of the "Essays and Reviews", designed to exhibit them as dishon- est and insincere, equlvocators v/ho enunciated important priiiciples, pressed them as far as expediency and v/hatever tincture of orthodoxy they still retained would allov/, and then dropped them incontinently. Harrison in his essay l.The preed of a Layman, p.27 A" ’■^4 '■ ^ 4 i|' ,r> ,t» 4 V , #v-J. •-V 3 C ' ’■ ''f: ’ ' A'... . T;f.fr' V ■‘\i' ' - •; n •m. t . -■ . X * .' a>.'« •.') .;• un, - ^ ' #■ * ' . .,■ v.,^a '■ -J -:.-^ ■' : u Ijc.' ^ « -.ne*n' *'■■ jri :4 ' 4 if- ^ i •■ •I . !► lo ,-:*ii'. j kV 3 W^- 4 ^';a r %■*■ •;y 4 Et J-'-; .. , .■ «. V 4»5jt ■;• . ,«1iifc»i^ - .jl- J . :a :. . u ' »’ • t ‘a*%7 iiitnfe^ >■». 4 o- ■< -. ,:i;v-i/> Lt: l >i#r, *: j* liif^ •e$t: ’ ^ 'V' (.' -JiCJI' ^tihKf^X, i 4 ’ V -.‘vftJCvA tvj ■*tM^--: -V-;.. ,*'^ 9 : .j/.i : - .ib:(,d‘tnx ’ ‘ ' '* r',1 'i' 1^ t i ifl^ 3 -rf*v' -i-*-- » \ ^ ' ■' ■* . .’^ •.ccidf ::.i.ixti r>t ■ XmStm ?;./ ■l «.„ y. • i. ■ li . ,'*i '. '■ >.'^.*. .' ' g',., fc«.: J C’Ji.O >*5/>‘.;-j;i|j!|^{> ^’.'XOfir:^ *> \,‘J . *^'-*^ * ,J>(' ^ va;^ A i _ ' "'j ^jQ . ■ ‘ ■-V,' ^»iS ' ‘" /’■ l~' .■> ' %^'i , ‘ ,^tJ‘ I T jV ♦ 4 ^ p»/m ^ 26 . undertool: to press their conclusions to their logical limits, and to demonstrate them as being the latest and most current form of infidelity. The article occupied him about two weeks. "I wrote furlouslj'', neither pausing nor correct- ing, at the rate of five or six pages of print per diem . In its original state it was quite one-third longer than in print. I remember that I v/rote it with passion, without any ’fair copy’, without notes, and that the majority of the pages were without erasure or change of v^ord. I w^rote the whole under violent excitement, look- ing on it as a mblic duty, and not doubting that its publication would cause my expulsion from Oxford, and perhaps my ostracism in clerical society. Chapman came down to Eden park to read the MSS., with v/hioh he v/as delighted, as also with the title -- lleo-Ghristianlty — a new word which I claim to nave added to the language."^ The "Essays and Reviews" fell flat for the first few months after their appearance. Oxford v/as engrossed with Darwin’s "Origin of Species" (1859); the reviews were busy with the excising controversies which clustered round this celebrated book. In fact, the effect of the manif'esto which the " septem contra f idem " Issued so daringly in the cause of liberal religion was decidedly anticlimactie. But with the publication of Harrison’s article, the essays achieved immediate prominence in the minds of the clergy, and in the various reviews, which vied with one another in expressions. of approval and violent opposition. Harrison undoubtedly scored heavily in his first entry into the arena of religious controversy, as a subsequent historian of }5;nglish raticnallsni has noted. Autobiographic Memoirs. I. pp. 206-07. I '• .’ •:■' r*! " ••‘•v'”’'- V' '■■...“^rirv'-t7-^wv-.; ,;s"-|.' ■/ .<‘^. j- . C-' '-".I" '*^1»'*v«ir ^ -‘lif *£♦ craia-u ■Mr<^ ■ . -yl^H-tnh \ ' '* .,, A ''*Jf f .f ■ t 'j .\r V ■ 0 , !! > ^ »', 1 f n ; . "xd If* *4^/ *V‘-/ . / ^ ,L.''/>.af / .V. 'S>'r'£ • ■•■ ■' ; A (. :■' ■■ 4 ■ S«*5^: ■ ^ '. ,-..r4va'\Ar ■v;i' .^Gi .1 ■ . .sri*- , ^ r- „ r ;' . I l^'yfti':'. .■: f.'4 !■ ■ > '' ...•, /’ * it-: ‘ ' vi W.A '.' .S'' !• '"' '•^ .V7''^V i »iaS^'^' <" ■ ■* 'k Mi&ima J 27 "Sharing to all appearances, the conviction of his great master that Christianity as the ultimate form of theology is rapidly approach- ing its extinction, he welcomes and proclaims the unexpected help supplied by its accredited teachers toward the work of demolition. All their reticences are forced, and all their evasions cut off." ^ Harrison undoubtedly took a very tenable position in regard to the voliune produced by the Septe^, There is to be noticed in this connection, hov/ever, the appearance of what was to be ever an attendant evil and a weakness of Harrison’s v^riting. In his anxiety to make his point, and because of the frenzied energy v/hieh animated him as he wrote, he frequently sinned in claim- ing too much and granting too little. "They profess, indeed," he delcared, "to come forward as defenders of the creeds against attacks from without; but their hardest blows fall not on the assaulting, but on the resisting force." 2 This remark, suggesting as it does by delicate innuendo, that there is very likely a wide divergence between their profession and their actual intentions, is sceo’cely just. It v/as certainly unwarranted, llor was Harrison in a position to defend the assertion in the same paragraph tnat "In object, in spirit, and in method, in details no less than in general design — this book is Incompatible mlth the religious belief of the mass of the Christian public, and the broad principles on which the Protestantism of Eng- lishmen rests." 3 1. The History of English Rationalism in the Ilneteenth Century. A.W. Benn. London. 1906. 2 v. v.2 pp. 127-28. 2. The 0reed of a Layman, p.95. 3. Ibid, -p. 95. i : ■..-V'l tv. iSti o-.| Ir .iwf. ff . ” *:'.|WI21, .. ' '.'..a • '' 1 1'-;* iit • ^SkhKtksu T M*-’ -■u,. arx ? !p*' '“A i 't*ixi K' 2 i^ii jdi ' ©uiftix ^i*’ X ':-?v M T',/; V -/i 17-ia "’ ■* ■■■ ;*e * ^u X ( _ ’ .t X •it ^..4 i 1 ' *’ *’’ -M ‘ ' ''-J * •■ ■ - .' ■ ^ :V tl ’V4^ r« I'*: 'K^ i;' p 1'^' I . ^.•. . □•- ■ , \*'-qy if ■ , t ■' “'■ '■* S ,i4 •• *■ ' \ •«!‘| ''.^/v i> - , ■ •3^;. ..Si' if" At 28 V/hen we run over the names of those who brought out the volume; Benjamin Jowett, Regius Professor of Greek at Oxford, Henry Bristow Wilson, former Bampton Lecturer, who had held a college living in Huntingdonshire, Dr. Rowland Williams, Vice-President and Professor of Hebrew at Lampeter, and former fellov/ and tutor at King’s Col- lege, Cambridge, Charles Goodwin, a Cambridge laymajri, Baden Powell, Savilian Professor of Geometry at Oxford, Mark Pattison, who had been a tutor at Oriel, and who became aector of Lincoln College in 1861, and Frederick Temple, Headmaster at Rugby, and a future Archbishop of Canterbury, it is hard to think of them as avowed icono- clasts whose object, spirit, and method were bent on dem- olishing "the broad principles on which the Protestantism of Englishmen rests." Wnatever subsecLuent alterations of opinion these men may have undergone (Pattison died an agnostic) , there is no reason to suppose but that they wrote sincerely, atteiripti ng to find the tertium quid be- tween literal inspiration and the complete doubt by which the sceptical criticism of the day had undermined the authenticity of the Bible. V. Meanwhile Harrison had succeeded, in "Heo- Christianity" , in drawing down upon himself the anathema of some very distinguished men. Bishop Wilberforce of Oxford in the "Quarterly Review", Charles Kingsley at 4J* ' • V ^ If '. am '-I ■ 7 • t ,-., ' rJiiafrtv - ' !■ ^ .^ . ’ "'■■¥' ■I'l' / ■' ,. , -Ji! :, ■ ;.y ■ .;'yy !*'*■»■*■ ■'^:' ~ ‘ " ' ■'>■’" f V ; . •-■v«- '••ilRt-.v. h’ 'VW. , . ..'-41 . 1 vJ ;CJl’ iJ ^;, ^,' XUi rf, - J^' < .^t*',..---** . ■-■M- •* 5 » .•> ■' ... , m . i 1 ' i; I'i'Vtf,'; . ■ J> •I' '•, ' • ’ ’■'' jf ;i '.A v*iS: U>i*v ,1i!' „^‘:o if ‘ V «' '* ' , * •" » \r >»•/ ^i: V \ # jl' ^ X.-*.' • ib.u\ J7/T. ;:'ir . < .?* -W:. ♦ y : • '■ .*' p j tt it -7 i. ► j : f ■■ " iu ; u ' ji.^---' .-r . '...-t a.' •A;. ^^Ari -.'V*: ’if J!‘J , ■■ ■ •■'.‘*'’*71 'i* ?■•■ '''j v"' . ... . :. .^:-4 ^ L-.) .■’’ '• .: •• jt ■ ;*• . ;•'./ ' ;••. r: 'Jr'“- 4 j*'* 3 rfi 29 CaiB.'bridge, and Goldwin SFiith at Oxford, all denounced the article, chiefly for its insistence on "the idea of Law as permeating social equally with physical facts", as in such passages as this; "Step hy step the notion of evolution by law is transforming the whole field of our kno7»r- ledge and opinion. It is not one order of conception which comes under its influence, but it is the whole sphere of our ideas, and with them the v/hole system of our action and conduct, hot the physical world alone is now the domain of inductive science, but the moral, the intellectual, and the spiritual are being added to its empire." ^ This of course was arraiitly Comtian, and heretical b eyond the assimilative powers of the broadest churchman. The occasion seemed auspicious for a spirited defense of the principle of law in the universe, as discovered (sic) by Auguste Comte. Professor E.S. Beesley, Harrison's intim- ate friend, crossed sv;ords with Kingsley in the "?/estminster Review"; Harrison turned his attention to the composition of a reply to Goldwin Smith, refusing "to treat the uni- versal application of law as being in any sense a religious question", or as "the negation of the idea of Providence." Harrison set about his task in thorough fashion. i»The preparation in reading had occupied me for three or four months, puring this time I studied Mill’s "Logic", J. Bain on "The Will", Jonathan Edwards, Hume's "Essays", Hobbes, Spin- oza, Locke, Hegel, Montesquieu, Comte, Sir W. Hamilton, Thomas Brovin, James Mill, Buckle, Sam- uel Clarke, Leibnitz, Pascal, cornewall, Lewis, G.H. Lewes, Hallam, Herbert Spencer." ^ 1. Ibid. p. 137-38. 2. Autobiographic Memoirs. I.- p.263. i»'V ■T , 4i |iMp «I K V ,,. ■'. 15 cr i 1 ® [. 1 . M 1 M '• . ' ’ p«n fikii .Of'lVilM.’. ■ ''.i, , , A| 1 < ^ ', ■ • .. 1 ^ 4 ' 'n'c' at a<* ':i>'. t * ' jspj ’ ' ' ’« -Vi *■■ * -' ' ■'^ f i. 1 \n i"\in . «!> •• . ..**v2 '.’ “j I '- 1 1'' ».W* 'Y' /■■‘‘■S'' . u Pi r*/ms ' ~ *^' ^ „r- '■'■III fi'J . ■ . - ;-.t ' - < i->r hiWf '■'fe ^ • 'r f , ."1 '•it* ■- I 't-i* ■ ‘'1^ - -V. : , -c - ' A,* ‘,f i'lj.' ',• . *^ 'W ^ • ^ ' 'iBHiauri'' ’ ' -'!iw *».;.. ■*i'’i’.M^’ >v.A‘ - *.•. ■' tox,‘. ivT'* •.-'^'ffi, ijit' iW’:'- Nii A»*4Aiij§^': y-/l , ... ..-j'y O'.' i’.i *. ;4*j^f>4 imM ■' V ^ ^ I • '. ^'■' ' 1- . j . _ •' I '' ,t . .i.- » i«( l‘k* if'l* • f’.‘:-w* ^ ■M'ti'mm.w -jii’®* $p|vvv - "‘;T ■ ~- - cio ■'Si ] ** - ' r''’.' 10 , '■ >v; ■ ' 'll 'tijSnWK^^SJlnv :' 1 ^ 'J ' ' ^' ■ ;4' . .. , ■ V .'iv k \.. -m n ■ y:\ * •> » •'■■»■♦- .|'|i XlW^'r^y' : ''^ f “ '’raiiM 30 The article, entitled "Mr. Goldwin Smith on the Study of History" duly appeared in xhe "V/estminster Review", and roused in the Oxford professor "an irritation" which Harrison assures us "v/as surely unreasonable." He v/rote another article suhseq.uent ly which he suppressed, so the controversy lapsed. "I declined all Invitations to con- tinue theological criticism, and in the follov/ing years I ?/as occupied with law, economics, and history." Vl. Harrison had now reached the age of thirty years; his formal education, liberal and professional, was completed; he had a profession, a comfortable inde- pendent incomie, had published aii article which achieved a peririanent place in literature, and was regarded by all who knew him as a promising young mian. The catalogue of his situation and prospects becomes complete when Harrison himself adds that "it was at this time that I finally made up my mind hOY; I would arrange my life," His diary at this period yields an interesting list of agenda. Hirst on the list comes "Religion", on which subject he thought it iii- cumbent that "the first object of thought must be to clear H up the mind". Then comes "knov/ledge of the v/orking classes’ since he saw rightly that any sort of social ameDloration imposed arbitrarily, and from without, v/ould be nugatory. So strongly did he feel this, that he "resolved to know the best of them personally as friends, to feel the q.uality of their minds and hearts, to enter into their spontaneous j . ^ .« i { ,i y ^ ftV^ jy^ 7yij*i iVji ^ i Wtf'ki^Wii fci i li t ’ l l ' i: , r4 t^*U ' \ [ \\ . . ’i .^. - "'.r-ij^U', .‘I ic 'U' ,♦■ , .. ■ . s ‘i. ““ V ^ '^'|K^'-' -'■'!' »;»•> ' ' ■ f'! ft'! 'i ■ •' 'mmimiSIL- i, ■ ,»r ^':. _*«•./'./. --t •J« 1, ■ ^ f. ^ill'^'" '‘-’*3“^'^.' I* , -..H *:.u t‘^vvpt/^1 .^-- • ;.'A . ~\ a ^ v y <.; ■*: L' f n ■;,> ’ ":'} '^■'% ■*' 3' ii* . 'r."! u *;v’ • ' •■/ ’• . • ^ .-f^. ,.I!J [St ‘ «a '■ >. ^'i ' . . % Jt *' ' ’i ’Jlt'^p^ ‘tiiX. aI <-'K.r' 4'i 4#|i .♦Wijif ^H' '4x , n /-•■*. « *•«' « ,- ' n J?i * f :' ■ W l3feiR a . . ? ^ nfr* .^’•^■' -■ ' ' ;• '‘'"'iC' .9 ^ ■• i .;m 31 . institutions and practices, and v/itness by personal K^in- (luiry the sufferings and the necessities which weigh up- on them . " ^ The classes in which education was traditional, Harrison thought, ’’devoted to pedantry, detail, or disi^lay'’. Education for social betterment, then, would be tne means of their awn salvation, and the regeneration of those "educated" in the traditional sense; hence the third urgent problem, v/as noted in Harrison’s diary as "popular education" . "Tnere is needed an education at once general, simple, useful, and moral. In this spirit may it be my lot through life, to attemi.pt some- thing — Having first indeed educated myself." ^ There v/ere many other m'leliorists who thought similarly on these topics. Their activities are represented in the Wording Men’s College, the Cleveland Street Secular Hall, Hewton Hall, Clifford’s Inn, Tonybee Hall, and Rushin Hall. The last item of Harrison’s program, neaded "SociaJ Improvement", was subsumied under ten heads: "¥hat is most urgently needed, I wrote, was the sifting of the great social evils: as to — - 1. The relations of capital and Labour. 2. The hours of labour. 3. The conditions of labour. 4. The labour of women and children. 5. The homes and lodgings of the labourers. 6. Provision for paupers, criminals, and sicl . 7. Sanitary reform. 8. Domestic improvement. 9. Social intercourse between classes. 10. Sobriety, cleanliness, health*" 3 1. Ibid. I. - p.248. 2. Ibid. I. - P.248. 3. Ibid. I. - p. 249-50. 32 Harrison seized an early opportunity that offered itseli* in tne follov/lng year to prove tnat his sociology was not purely theoretical. In 1861 occured a great building trades lockout which arose out of agita- tion in the United Building Trades for a nine-hour day. A group of disinterested lawyers and journalists formed a small committee on which Harrison was active, to Inquire into and present to the public, the facts of the dispute. John Stuart Mill, aEiong others, was invited to act, but he refused to serve on the committee v/hlch inclined to a favourable view of the union demands, because he was not at that time satisfied v;ith the policy of the unions. Harrison's inclina,tion toward empirical sociology received a strong impetus from his experiences in this of'- fair. V/ith entirely honest motives he attended labour riieetings, talked with the union men, installed himself iii their confidence. The impressions he thus gathered be- came, to a large extent. Incorporated into the body of his opinions, and a part of his intellectual tissue. Among them was a permanent distrust of newspapers, whose "systematic and Interested misrepresentation" of this particular case lead him to generalize about the subsi- dized press of England whenever he suspected tnat the per- quisites of "the interests" v/ere at stake. More important v/as the predisposition he gained in favour of the fairness, generosity, and moderation of the laboring classes, and sympathy ;vlth their aspirations. He looks askance at the 33 theorists in these matters. His contempt for "the trash of political economy" attained a Carlylian vigor. In his diary he wrote with energetic finality under the date May 28, 1861, "Nothing can ever he done in England in the way of great social improvement until the cruel jargon of the Economists is discredited."^ adding the challenge "Go among the men, and there learn the folly of it hear them talk of their own lives and xvants, and cease to speak of them as labour machines, and the sophists' science is shattered." At this point it will he seen that he also Joins hands with Ruskin. In the fall of this year, Harrison toured the northern manufacturing tov/ns, making copious notes, and formulating ideas on unionism, strikes, and cooperation which formed the material for a series of articles which suhsequently appeared in the "fortnightly Review". They were ultimately included in his volume "National and Social Prohlems". (1908). VII, I have set forth the hiographical facts of Harrison's youth, and the circumstances of his intellectual development thus far, in such fullness as is possible with- in my limits. I have carried him to his maturity, to a position of firm adherence to the positive philosophy, in whose tenets his first article and last hook were written. The period hitherto treated, while constituting less than 1. Ibid. I, 253. Printed in italics. i w' fc ' . . •■»’ .. H.’ • . 4-*f& < ’ a*.*- ' • : :. • ;L. i. _,„, '■' •■•«KV ..i(‘ ^^.•;, «a ■:■.«; -i.; 3,;.. Vfl.i^;l ■. ‘ ' !' ,,:jci ij? I lT4 t « L i ^h 'l^%» t f\. A *~ . Jk ' r,^ ^ ' ‘.• '•it rvi,. m^ 'Mi: ’' ■'^*'i‘ ^.Ifc \r^'^ .. ^/^•■i*v .<» U "V,>\ fv . i'? • a i * ■’^-* • " , ,r-p %v^'* ' 4;.i>Xw^- t»;r.'‘» '0f,'-%d^ , ■ '*, k^'. 'f’'f 'y / .1^ jOJT^p ; r « ‘ '^’ -'•■/ jr .; ■ S > . . » ■ ' i A, JK ;■' *‘ -A? V ■ : • .. ■ -1 t(i € * ' -<*i U¥Ui^\\ .i-\;, ^ :LWJL»ir : .i'i r •• . “■ one third of Harrison’s life, and the least important third to the biographer, is, as that of his development, the most important of all for the purposes of such a critical study as this pretends to he. Therefore I will present the remainder of the biographical facts at my disposal on a somev/hat reduced scale. The years 1861 to 1871, Harrison says, were the busiest of his life. In that period he wrote about twenty articles in the monthly reviews, on Italy, law, and the science of history, many of them making the exhausting demands upon him of high-pitched controversy. He lectured at the Working Men’s college, at Cleveland Street Hall, and at the first Positivist Hall at chapel Street, con- tinuing the while to contribute articles to the newspapers on trade-unionism. His investigations into the industrial disturbances which these organizations created from time to time made Harrison a recognized authority on labor disputes. He was appointed a member of the Royal Commission on Trades-Unions, which functioned in 1867-68-69. Public opinion was bi.terly hostile to the unions at the time. The majority of the (commission were orthodox in their views. Harrison, together with Lord Litchfield and Thomas Hughes, drew up a minority report, to which Harrison prepared a long and elaborate appendix ’’examining the whole evidence and arguing each point in proposed legislation,” Tills, Harrison tells us, ultimately became the foundation of all subseq.uent debates in Parliament and the Press”, and "has 35 been the foundation of the Trades-Union la;// between 1866 and 1906'.' He adds that "it is probably the most permanent work in which I have been engaged in politics." Throughout this period Harrison was occupied about half the time with legal work. He received three legal appointments in 1869; that of Examiner to the Inns of Court at Lincoln's Inn; Examiner in Jurisprudence, Roman Law, and Constitutional History for the of Legal Education; and secretary to the Royal Commission for Digesting the Law. In August of the next year, Harrison entered into a legal engagement of a quite different sort. He married his cousin, Ethel Harrison, oldest daughter of William Harrison of craven Hill Gardens, W. The ceremony was celebrated quietly at Christ Church, Lancaster Gate, according to the church of England ritual, no Positivist ceremonies having at that time been adopted in A three months’ tour on the Continent followed, which in- cluded in Germany ,... Switzerland, and Italy ma/iy of tne terrible sights which accompanied the b/tter end of the Franco -Prussian war. VIII. V/hat Harrison called "my first bit of real travel" occured in his twentieth year, when he made a carefully studied tour of Switzerland. He sav/ his first mountain snov/ at Schaffhausen, whence Ruskin got his first rap- turous view of the Alps; Cologne "tnen a quaint old seven- I -i : - \ ' ' '' ' ^ .rllp e? 'i i :^ .-. ,' i‘ HJLJs'i .‘ -t-SS 1 I V^’ • i> ^\ ■'' '/'<♦ ^ ■' ’S- '/T •l.V'f’lSS • iW ‘ nJi. ,-.-ITU< •” ■ • . f* .-£, - .1 i-' M;;: - . w.\'.' V . .. CU’:^ xtA‘r- i If rt -' ;■• ‘ ' '* ' 1 l|, ! . " " Jjj; • ♦ *‘ - • • ■ TC'v * f« '' in i* *?► #|^p^ ; 1 1 ^ '.5 • c t^tiy 4^-i.-' r‘ ^ o ' i ' i ‘- •■ • - .►• ^ » 'm' •*'*'"’J5 I* I c,,/ j f n -T tv i,pk J I T-' ^ i J ■': ,4, iO-^m ty ux., - ■• ■.tf:.c- :y ’y ,v*t^f^ ,%■ ••! ■ f .j .■'■f>'V^a^< M ^' 7' ^-‘155 '•■- ■4»^ *' l’rf» i .'’■' v' ^ *r If 4 ..>,*„ I 'IJJIIHHI 'Ih.IWIW.. r-..f *1 , 4!VCtJ ■' ■' >; vy ' Vt‘ * i' . '' ■ '^i ■' . '- . -';4' ' ? -’.V ^ 'V'V'lfe, ■ . .•/*!t' --o .fift ^,y '••• >. f ' . a ■’’' ■ ‘ .. »•> V'* •* '■/■>.:y.' • .' •:? jCV(v; . 4i- ■■fn i , mu v* ii.' ■'• 'f y A M • '!' ■ -Y, '•'■•■ >15'^ ■' ta* ' ' ■' - / ’■R 'A- f: ■’ *• ■ 't' 'a •' "-'’•‘*'1 y . ^: rlk. ■m .h 36 teenth century town"; Baden and the Black Forest, the Rhine Valley, at tnat time unspoiled by railroad or factory. Two years later Frederic, with his brother, Lawrence, went to Italy, travelling in the old style of the Italian vettura celebrated with charming fantasy by Ruskin in "Praeterita," and more recently by a younger ad- mirer of the old Italy, Maurice Hewlett In UThe Road in Tuscany". At Florence Harrison met Robert Browning, with whom he later was to become very intimate. Here he be- came imbued with a deep interest in Florentine and Tuscan art and history. in the interval between leaving Oxford azid going into Lincoln’s Inn, Harrison visited Berlin, v/hich he saw again in 1898. It was on the latter visit that he v/as struck by the contrast between the bourgeois eighteenth century city of forty-three years earlier, and the nev/ cosmopolis, ~ between the disunity of tne dozen duchies of the older Germany, and the solidarity and bustling national pride of the parvenu xiation, already "claiming hegemony of the human race." Harrison tramped over his own English hills in 1861. He visited the gumberland lake country, the York- shire moors, Bolton Abbey. Four to six weeks were allowed for v;alking in the Lake country or for Alpine mountain- eering in the autumn of each year, during this middle period of Harrison’s most constant and varied activity. His less extensive travels were freq.uent and casual, the necessary incident of a busy life. He was on tne continent ;i5t' Mi 'Yv ' ^'' ' ’•*'* ' '■ '"" Tii^''' ' ^‘ ' '' '* ’^^ 'idf m ' ‘‘i ■■ i ■•* AiJj ii'i .' i^ V' 4 ‘-.. • ’' ^ ■"‘''*®*1 "»-Tf * ™ jri’ . ■ ^ . ' *' ^ ■ ^ ' ■ ' "' - m^'" ^ ■‘*j‘“y‘ i ••: I tt if|o ,t^ ■ ‘ *'X r/ ' -«'Vi(r4T 'Sf*' ri ^ • .'Kt ^ &■ ; . . if „ i • it :4-. j*i.fr> ‘ *'• ' ‘"' l;3jt: ,i.Y^ i 'i ,V5 V. " cV' ^c*nu^' r(,./ */i Y-rJ: frt □I r* k . , ) ' /I ■>’.v»V*>.P'->4Jli ■^ ', v-v * ■'( r ^^Vi''*' ' «‘i lir ■ ■ V ' n.-.",' *“*? .. r:- i'v ^'u ff !♦ ;■ ■ ' ’''>® ^ -’Vv ' jl'i «‘>1i,k'^ i t*.«' i.- i 'V /■ <:.i -7- ^,rn; •iijift.! ■ !?*■ , c ‘J f. /I ! '*4 1 V * C- ' 37. very oxten, and knew Paris well. He was, of course, on intimate terms with the Paris group of Positivists, l<^d hy Pierre Lad'itte. His articles on the Franco -Prussian war brought him into personal or epistolary contact with many of tne great men of the day in France; Guizot, Jules Michelet, Louis Blanc, Baiibetta, T^enan, Clemenceau, Edouard Scherer, M. Faure, ciit^rbuliez . In 1874 the Harrisons lived for tv7o montns at Fontainebleau. In October of this year Harrison travelled extensively in the provinces for the "Times", narrowly escaping arrest at one time, because of the tone of his articles, which were reprinted in French nev/spapers of the opposition. With the exception of his visit to America in 1900, whicn is reserved for separate treatment, Harrison's remaining travels may be dismiissed briefly; three visits to Greece and Sicily; two to Turkey, and one to Egypt between 1881 and 1910, axid one to Hollaiid and Germany, alluded to above, in 1898. IX. Harrison in conjunction witn James Bryce, was appointed by the gouncil of Legal Education, Professor of Jurisprudence, International Law, and Constitutional Law, in 1877, in v/hich capacity he lectured regularly for twelve years in the Middle Temple Hall. He became President of ■f; the English Positivist (^ommlttee in 1878 on the retiremeiit of pr. Bridges, holding the position until 1904. Efewton Hall was taken as the permanent Positivist meeting place (1881) under his regime, whose arrangement he managed, and Th A rf,‘ ■' ' ; : ■ V - « I T «!>»« ,. y , ,. T ^ • B» . i tij. }lv', V ■* ,, -i *■’'' ■* <7::.' ^ -* V #, b''iT'-' '? V ' ‘ ’ ... •■' * v...-nN *:^/a <^b«u 4 [, *<>'••“ ,•..«■ ♦.’• 4 <'vi'. ,. ', ^ „■ , ''.j 1>U iV\: ■ . ; I'vj#!, • \ k 3 ^- ^ " I '" 15 ^ ■' 'u %[ V -*■ ’ ' .. ^ ii :"" ■■'•■ ' .V Ci .V i ’if . . t', kt\ a#> ■V ’. i F»f,'‘ ' •-<» *< "■ •">% ^ r'VrT** ,1 ' ' “11 • ‘■’( . 'V ' ' hilik 1 M *' s-,- , f « ^ iii. '.. vt^i ^ {-.. i i-' • «• j. •<1/ 'V r ■.^.: _?a .... \l k. j f* '‘^fjPVy "f* “fi- ■ ’: 14,:/. .. - t/.j> ,*. ..V ,,J4^ r^n- fJ i’ . . ' ' • "^ m ' .M? ' i ••'v*' ,j •J-. M , '..• ; V ^ : ; s .Ji 4 l .■ . 7 /, »■ *•.» i, t Ai> ft' ■■ '.'«^ •M ji f _|F ‘ I* '' Sff'V* 'I • i V < ' ^ ^ f *■ ;V ^r^v> rt.-.;i 0 •■f-y-v. f*V <*'*iiistt-(f:j. up ,. , ;.,v .T r » < ' % ns^H •>'! . v.^ •/ .*{ 5 ^- H 'Ilf r ■ . ■ „ ^ * . . -.-■■i i - -‘■?.V m ,tJ«J Ki. rfiJ li':|£ -ft r/.m^u . 1 Ip'^wJm ^^71. V •*' v.r^w.„^.V'... '’.1 ‘V" »U'.,.4S '* , ^ ■ .,^..Vi!^' ■ •■‘T At I, -v. %< ;^r’V j| 9<« >**5 r ^ >‘ 5 'I ,_j 5 [J 5 i, tn ^ ■ . » • ) ‘ 1 > 1 ! 4 ';' ' ' ■ '*™ • 1 ^ VtS". I 1 ’t •• :.‘’A *i 'fV J*-^ j- •.♦‘i, ‘ . *;» Kt4S •il,/'' ,;i,. ''■ 4 » 4 ,' * .1 ■ ; H;;«| . i<;-;#-.; 1 >. '". » ! y , :L. '-».i "nf ^ 'iwri.-- ..' ''mi .'. V 1 'MI' . ^ ■ *ti't k ^‘'' ■/k V . jf:, ,. , . • : 3 .^. T>r 'Aiii tffl .>iLi rr>^^. " Hi'i? -^Ir:' 39. cacies of English country life» at the local courts. X. In 1900 Harrison was invited by the Union Leagije Club of Chicago to deliver its annual address on Washing- ton's birthday, February 22, 1901. The invitation was extended informally by Joseph H. Choate, United States ambassador to Britain, at Cambridge, where he received the honorary degree of LL.D. in 1900, the year in which Har- rison delivered his Rede Lecture, "Byzantine History in the Early Middle Ages."^ Harrison accepted the invitation, and cai^e over to see us in the following year. America was shown to him by such accomplished and cultivated cicerones as Choate, Theodore Roosevelt, President Laurence Lowell of Harvard University, Ai:idrew Carnegie, and that accomplished hand across the sea, Charles Eliot Horton. These v;ere gentle- men, one might suppose, to be trusted to give Just the proper accent to America. Hor did they fail in their ^ask. Harrisonwas -whirled westward to Chicago immediately, before he had time to pause and consider the astounding warmth of his reception. Sowell did his astute hosts display Chi- cago to him that he was able to write in composed retro- spect of the historical home of Mammon and pork "I heard of nothing but the progress of education , university endovinraents, people’s institutes, lib- 1. Published under this title, London, 1900 Sr.'-'.' ^ ,|_ I: .%B>f ' - ,-.c j * « f 1[u •/ (i-‘ ’ %if . I . ,vHl /':.J I ■.*: . ■ WT* :au..v ■^ • . »» 4 » •:/' ~(4 r^l+n»iii ';■■ ‘.'4 • -. < 3 Tl :'S^ V V'i “ ' **-*T .V . t-4. ’ *5 % : 0 . w '•LI ^ ■ . >, r :, '. . ,1 ’ .'*> *' \t ', ■ ' W^S'nCw ■7»fa*\a' ’ i j .vv, . ‘^ ’*‘*^ f ,A 0m---> V #■ '^t ^ ■"'•'i 'i''”* I ■' kfl-' ■■ ' h '•>•■ - ii*\u rrii,. - 1 ^*, ,. .-• • » . ! . - Jj .ft "?4 ( '». '• <« I Hi-i.' f* J‘ V^ I ViSY-'i *■■/■■ , ... it . • .♦>? J 4 . -(WS .. . L .1 J 40 . raries, museums, art schools, workmen's model dwellings and farms, literary cul- ture, and scientific foundations. I saw there one of the best equipped and most vigorous art schools in America, one of the^hest Toynbee Hall settlements in the world, and perhaps the most rapidly developed university in existence." ^ Harrison's Washington; speech was a great suc- cess. It v/as delivered at the Auditor iuia to five thous- and people. The subsequent orgy of felicitations, handshaking, cheering, and reporters, star-spangled ban- ners, autographs, and banquets completely bev;ildered the distinguished Englishman ivho referred disparagingly to p himself as a "mere magazine writer". An American reviev/ hailed him as having "excited greater interest among the intellectual people of the United States" than any Eng- lishman arrived on these siiores since Matthew Arnold. Vice -President Roosevelt, just back from a hunt in the Rockies, himself, Harrison observed, "very like a grisly bear", acted as impressario, escorting Harrison to the art galleries, theatres, and club luncheons, at which he v/as always sure of being called on for "a few v/ords". He wrote to his wife "Hothing can exceed the friendliness of my welcome. If I were Charles Dickens, Herbert Spencer, and the Prince of Wales all in one person, it could not be g exceeded . " 1. Memories and .Thought . p. 177. S, Reviev/ of Reviews 23:558 3. Autobiographic Memoirs, 11-198. • U h ',. : *.L .,- IP- . - . C ‘ / ^ .» y »' >4.^' r- ^ ;> :< v” '^0,V)( ^it.M Mifi^'<‘ ’'i'- ' vfl'dp ;' i:. - %'r^ ''■ ^^'i' A% 'J(#>»- /•■ tVtft-''.fV '»«^* ' -Vv ' > ^ ■'^-'•“-■■^ ' -' '• .j6i .‘A. V C r'l ' . .. tH’ . I » .f.. 7 TI .<''-• r/f '*^:*;- . ' '■'.•SiV; •*lTj». IS ifi*4. * .Wi Tv»' .'.' « ‘cJK|i'.|. ^Jai' ’■ be>’» ■?. -li -^.v. /ti VjR' 'N'.'i! „:/M '' ■• J -^fVV? :' J » • > * . ■ ■:■>■!■ ■ wf,' .%.. v; >■< l:-l« ’, ' *‘ '*. ' X ,v^ 4 / ‘^?/*' t 4 '■' * r»' r t I • 5 «;"‘. ■'■ * * 1 ' • i ^ ^ . ■ * ' ' ' * /* 5 ? 1 ^' '■ ,.. ■« ii 1 M (/% in 41 A week later Harrison was in Cambridge safely installed in tnat hospitable inn for literary pilgrims, the home of Charles Eliot ITorton, in the midst of Tin- torettos, Veroneses, Turners, Ruskins, books, objects of art, and all the refined impedimenta of an ancient and illustrious man of letters. At Harvard Harrison "harangued" the University on his chief hero, after Comte, King Alfred. Proceeding to Washington, he witnessed the inauguration of President McKinley. Washington lionized him. After taking out Mrs. Sheridan, the widov/ of the dashing cavalry general of the Civil War, at one of Mr. Chauncey pepev/'s dinners, Harrison v/rote happily to his wife "Certainly, they do things well in Washington." . "Eo'w I.;, stood it I cannot think — oysters, ices, charnpagne twice every day." Two lectures on Alfred at Johns Hopkins fol- lowed; a visit to Mount Vernon, and Bryn Mavrr where he entranced the college girls v/ith off-hand reminiscences of George Rliot, Ruskin, Tennyson, and others. Of what all gallant pilgrims concede to be one of our chief national glories, Harrison writes "You cannot imagine these American women till you have seen them at home. Their frankness, their bonhommie , their entire absence of shy- ness, or timidity, or reticence, o r hauteur . or_morgue_j_ It is certainly fine. They say what they think and feel — 'right out'- — and^ are not a bit ashamed to be s chwarmer i s ch . " Ibid. V. II - 205. Vi-. ■ ' V i I Sw''-'f‘.- i ^ -H_ tf] ^ mr* V’« I- - : j i >V A r\ * f vj»:. i - ‘' fitT m . ®=-J- * . ■ •• ' ? ■'■■•- • -^ } ^J^(r r '\WtBW ^ '^MHH •if/ .: ^->1 \» if * ^ . .' ' >■ «kr -« ‘ ■ ■ ■-*1,V, '' ^---' • , ^UMk- i ' ■ !'•< H'itJi - O > ,- ■ -I ^ ‘ K‘,ck; 5 ■'^' < '14 . . 7 » »i® .v'( 4 '"'^■ 0 !)(>i . ■ ■ ; X -^ li j '■ f ^ t.-' A^ja^.-.'^ .jttj •■<;! -i jpb'., v, ' ■■,: fi V L. ' 1 ';' ■ . '?■*.'• ‘i, ••■ ' ^ ‘•>, ,-^', 'V /*'. ' ' «^- '■ w4^Ej. r ^ ■V fi!; '[«'■■■ «a^ >iv ■■ ‘^p - ;j| vV-:,>\ ,' ’. •■:*«¥, ;|>V TB *t " - \ ‘ J"la. ... ^ ^ i«wjaiw(p t ' a riii^ ' ‘IS j VMirir-iXs-'fii'^'i^ I '>«’i 42 . From Baltimore Harrison wrote to his wife of being photographed with Yifilliam Jannings Bryaii, the lately defeated presidential candidate, v/ho was later to become, at the expense of far less study than Harrison hiraself, an authority on evolution. He mentioned too the daily banquets, heaped v/ith "everything I hate." Mutton, not even cold mutton which made such a melancholy exis- tence of Ruskin’s boj'-hood, he never saw. Miraculously enough he could still add, "but I am well". Harrison delivered lectures on Cromwell and the Dutch Republic at Princeton and Corumbia; paused again with the Hortons at Cambridge, and then took wing for his native isle tired, happy, full of oysters, champagne, and impressions. Hov; something as to the nature of Harrison's im- pressions. He found in America a young; nation, a people with the energy of youth, the highest intelligence, and a social and political system "more favourable to material development than any society ever devised by man." He predicts for us, then, enormous material triumphs. Our characteristic note he found to be the free- dom of the individual, th e carrlere ouvert aux talents . The hope which this chance opens to every man and vjoman of wnat ne or she wants, colours our while life; all tilings may be sought and found within our national bound- aries. "The vast continent, with its varieties of climate and soil, produces almost everything ^ except champagne, diamonds, and ancient buildings," 1. Memoriotj and Thoughts, p. 182. ■ .i n':..!.’:. H'’’- ■ • ‘ t'« iiJsAlS* ' *»*• K V r" I K^"., ^ :, VI • u -V’ Ji Ml ■ i . . V ^ - ' ‘ *,V- ‘t ♦* ‘ ' J' ' ><:: * ^ * * rt'vl !fr L' . I ' ■ ' ( \S Jfti tfh'; , V',A. •>, ' f >0 >.' . . * ^^^l^ i 4 % I ^ ; ‘ V V%. »' -^ TT -, -_v M' JIL.- :.nr^^.-. ;«%y fi ■ gf 't fT Xf l^- S'* ■i' .It- ,>1 rts *•-.- v ;♦ '■ J»i, ■ 4l li** 4>'ii'4tJ • , . • • ^ • , ;■ i,) Wii* f '■y. 'i m4w :rpa^ t t ”'i f- . t:^.. ' ^ i*^', V h*!'{^B-i'' ''■ ’ ' i]P> ■ tyn W' 1_H, ;'••■■. '' '-'■>' .V . ‘ iV»i ‘T-‘>, 'US JriTi'' JJ . - , ■' il;' ■.“ ,.»j bkn =;v y*V-'vCas f .**f.V '-. ' :Sf 1*^ f' ^ t ■ V 'f ■' ^ '1 ■■■ ..v( ^ l.v I*'? rSI^L'^ c'^»lPfcr ' *i .iijn»'??‘ V' • ■■•' V? , iit a. ■ -v^v t75, 4 ™v: 7 j tf , - '*'£1 m ,/f ■5' ’ I tSD'n' '/•S 45 Looking at the other side of the shield, Har- rison entertained some misgivings. Will our vast pros- perity he matched hy an equal expansion in the social, intellectual, and moral sphere? Certainly we are yet far from such a balance. Libraries, museuras, laboratories, and a literate public we have. But they do not guarantee literature. Our huge educational system, democratic, bi- sexual, is an instrument ; we may be sobered and chastened in our prosperity, if we pause to reflect on the quality of the product. Harrison's literary monument to his American visit was entitled" George Washington, and Other American Addresses" (1901). It included his Chicago address on the Father of our country, and the informal t alks he made at various times when called upon to furnish remarks and reminiscences. In the Union League address he ap- proached Washington from the European point of viev/, though in a generous and sympathetic manner, pitching him- self, as a writer in the lew York "Hation" said at tnis time, "in a high and stimulating strain." The same writer ventured to msike an appreciative generalization concerning Harrison, based on his Bryn Mawr recollections of great Englishmen of the nineteenth century whose acquaintanceship he had enjoyed, "It is bright and anecdotal, without being garrulous, and its frank admiration for the best in human genius is an invigorating tonic after the vile detraction of contemporaries v;hich is affected by the baser journals and critics, ViThatever else Mr. Harrison may or may not have learned from the writings of . ft j*;-r- ;j - rr.f. r4?*fcr. , ^. •■ ^ CCL—H • i fii>/.i'4^,-'"V . >. Js^Rk ' J <1 vHni;fl'T '1 '■' 'i j» t. z , . .^ . "•*’»r>j.v' #■ ir,‘ 4 T>ii*tu V'-I •/♦V ' ‘AH -.' ■' #u- ^ ■ *iu* , ^**'*:.i‘ ' ■' ' •'’ V '■ '. . ’^'"MW-* * *" . Uifi ' r-' ' 4 .! ■ '- .-jt ,tl *.ls ■' ^ ■ *• ' ^ i " iwwL -.»f- "V ■■ ■iin ■': - fc . ^ ; \ ■■• , ' ,-i . itii ' :.4 • ■ , 4 V" ‘W* •->»'- . -:. ' ' <’4 * ' *‘<^‘ 4 ^ ’ v ••‘'A'- * rnCrftfjfV* /:*' .;.:v f. ' ' f ^ -'.t*:' -v^-- >'((•* rrt ^«^^KBUI^‘‘■''^'f\ r . - ’■ V: /’, : ./‘iSlpi V ., ■ >■« ''f ;.v 5 ^^jCf .. •_ ; '^•iS™sa ■'*... i?M % . ■ ■ . ^ . -' 4 i . * ' A. . . , ■ . ^. ', B ’- " i .‘ I U‘.C«IL . ijri.' • •„ . ,V . ;• '.li n'^lt* C*’.f’-^i -'ti- . iju»< i. .iis^ /I '.■a.* . 1-1 -'I .-.i . ■■'jjf t-- ■■.i- c^.'t 4A44 - ■t ■ W T *«^u\ ' ,11 ,v, h :^ ■ v'l^ai - ' V < 4 ^^ » . *:> .. ';, ■ ■• . ^* • X ^ 't'>i ». ■ '. '''^ .» '•*? ' ■•j' V! ■■'^ ^ - J ^' '. -It: V>; . ‘■ WB ^ :4 .. .■iM.k#' ,,*) ii*.*- • U ' '♦ .n'ao^ . '. ^ •. ' . ♦ ‘^ '"~ ‘ .J U ■• , ',ti -.f ‘ . .-. U ^ xi ,y^t- li Xiuu:' i ' '->r ■Mutj ’ -lx ■>»i^;vY, ■ ■‘■^■/ x’' f r..v. i ijti ■ '> * -• '■' ■■* Aa \ iN/nSy#^©; fv’Xi. t ' . .•< » • r f ' L 6 .' .* ^ ,,. - 3 'is pl,:\ li: 'V. it SUbyt" ^- i . 5 ^.’ m.- r" ___ A ^ ^ ^.■- s%' 'sv*/x.Wj;:'' f-ir .1 • * ' 46 — irripossllDle in the actual moral condition of nations.” The state of suspended animation of fhe government of the United States while the Senate wrangled over the reser- vations to the League of Nations spelt the doom of the League, and the paralysis of Europe. Let us hear this voice from the Victorian Age on a few other subjects v/hich engross our twentieth century intellectual s . "In philosophy the problem of the hour is the Law of Progress. It is inevitable that al'ter a cataclysmic epoch of change, thoughtful minds should ask: 'Is this Progress?"' With clear steadiness of view, Harrison avoids coruusion of change v/ith progress. Our chances, however, should stimulate our best endeavor, he believed, and reiterates the Positivist hope of eluding our human limitations by faith, science, and moral energy, tiwe are meliorists, not optimists. We trust that Man cen better himself and his earth, but has no automatic perfectibility to look to." Let me present a few random dicta as envoy : Harrison welcomes Einstein as one who gives aiiother boost to the philosophy of the relative; he speaks of the charm, sympathy, and "inexhaustible spirit of subtle observation" of the recently-publishe d Letters of Henry Jamies, in "this age of caricatures, diaries, and ahominahle indiscretions"; he outrages the Zionists and Mr. Israel Zangvirill by ridi- culing the idea of a Jewish nation ; ne joins in v/,ith the "home thrusts at credulity and ignorance" of pean Inge^, 1. The Idea of Progress. By pean Inge. London, 1919, Outspoken Essays. By pean Inge, London, 1919. II i ■ • • an^a ■w' ' 'i' ’1- ^“1KfvT<2^ )^< ^-,sy. 'li'^ ‘.^ .;1l| ' . ^ ■ •; V ,' ■ , . . '\. •' li] • I *i .'■ w. .'u/.,v<.i>^i.* ^•... ^ :;.,. rv ,,•; \ ,x,t. “ ■ . •'^. .\r y*r ‘'•3^ '* '.'Jp?/. *!_ ^ ! I t f •' H ,. - - - ^ '■*A ' . .i. • * ; *' «l , t ' Mv-I 'H ' * Hi' ' • if*- ** “ I - ■ « ' f "A‘ • ' , ^ f»* 4 4^ ' • -1 /rtv'7i4 •1 :• 7/»l H# T J * ^ # ■ '^■9K ’ ' '^3 ^ * '' ^ • .Ti* iw;^^ • ‘*».^ r>*. , <• 4 I L.^ t '1 ’ &y»i * 1 . 1 1 iy- i [. r W' w‘ ^y: . . 1^ 1 • j 1 fc ,'? », C»"o.C' i#-i- - 4 ^ V. ^ k r:-.. ^ •7* , ' » » * t. i , f .» ”»-•. ;> t. : , w Tt i.i t _ ' ' , ^ 1 . /. Xv'.-. t %'^i: »* ^i.,1 1^14--.!! 7 ,';' \' *■' i' '41 ''''"IKL 'Ifl * t*f " 'M> 4 '>V4 *4jilv ' ofc>c,i£5Sf^ iwfr av'''c' .. . ■# ■■• * ^^ ■ ^ r ^ -W r< •'“-. 4 ' .;«• .'H v^i?! ;|M,i; ,r»t^k>.u> f #r. :•■' u^\. ifsi r i: ' '■ £' - ' '•' * ' 1 ' ■’04f< ‘ **■' ‘ !• ' *' ' '*''^1 47 . because "in such times as ours, what we want are true things, however hard." "It is a hopeful sign to find a popular Prela.te of our ancient ghurch attacking v;ith resolute vigour and in a scientific spirit such complex social problems as Population, the statistics of birth and maternity, the future of i.our Race, Emigration, the Empire, Patriotism and inter- national Brotherhood. Vfhat popular catchv/ords, what favorite nostrums, and mendacious fallacies are cut to the bone by the Dean’s masterly use of tne logical knife 1 Withal, he speaks as a priest should, his scientific knowledge infused with religion as ‘well as morality. There is nothing in it of the vagueness of the popular sermon, Of the sentimentalism of the philanthro- pist. It is the voice of a thinker on society v/ho is not afraid totell truths to v/hlch the ignorant masses are blind, and which the exper- ienced are apt to conceal or disguise." ^ And YiO'N let us leave him: "Here, down in Bath, I try to possess my soul in peace with lav/, philosophy, and books of the day . " 1. Hovissims Verba. il.Y. 1921. p. 17. d' f I 1 ’ * ItT % k ^ » t w •!«/> vS^. ;.., J^, AtaA^. Tv"''! i :f '■«'/ij;^.iV,; TUttir-?^^ H t. • . ' -l^ # ti 1 j| Kf '"■ttys v.V' .. I n . ■'.. .1 • t|ll . t ' • ' 1 fr ^fvl ’ • . t -'•r^-'**, '♦’* ‘If* » ’ ■ .-'•?! I <»,■ ■ ' ■ /».! i,. u’*;;;?t-*«<'t •; » 4 * X' , ' •. '., • . ■'■ • - t ' • , ’-'f J,»! , . "v-' . ^ , r ri» . 4 'I ■k'V' I 1 ~ r .. *VaAM^n li .s’j^ vv ti *rv lir J '^D */x r' .? ■'J J i. 4^ rj 4 ?J^^ Cf tv •F ffif yi • • ... Cv < 3 li .^47 w '■ Jd^i-'.v *1 ,f. ■ i ^--t rtt/‘/.‘ H ■ ''■,■■ ■X'^iil. \iT^i w w -t-i X fA .f #L 1 “ f?'-. iji I k ■*' '^‘r i£ t »~j ',- <■ i ■i % . 4*1 i^'o, 5 f»Vl-^ ;’’^4 48 III The Positive Synthesis of Human Life I. There has been no more interesting manifestation of the revival of humanism in the nineteenth century, and scare (3ly one so adequate, as the books of Frederic Har- rison, particularly those which set forth his philosophic scheme ojrid sociel program, in the works of Harrison v/e have expressed most vitally the inner life of positivism, a movement which v/as characteristic of a certain phase of cultiV 0 .ted thought in the nineteenth century. Like the penalssance humanist, the positivist is inteiosely in- terested in the world about himj unlike him he does not seek to harmonize the Bible and the classics as a code of ethics, but rejects the former as an article of faith, and the latter as the material for a complete, sufficient education; accepting both, rather, as having the char- acter of monuments of the human spirit, erected in the great mioments of our civilization, to be revered for their literary and cultural power. The outlines of positivisrrt vmich are sketched in roughly here, it is to be remembered, represent the Eng-- lish positivism of Prederic Hai’i’ison, rather than that of Comte himiself . Starting v/ith the sincere belief in the necessity of religion to man, the positivist sets himself to a reconstitution of his view of divinity and hutianity ux^on the basis of deirionstrable knov^ledge. In its insist- f !'■ ■ ^^:? ik> t • ■■■‘' Xi' 'Ml u >’ 'jfl! ^ •, . '. ri,-- 1. .i®'(^.'^.£(.oi/b.i , -■* '•iia ■■'''w u fiffi • ». .-: ■ ‘ j. I-, ■' , V . " Vi , T ^\ ' -I .V. Kri'iP V. ., . ■«. £l s- ■f "vf*v ■ *,;'■• •; • *»-'■' ♦'«.9 » ' ■ V , v ^s'U ■■* 'i‘ .{.‘.I, 'Sk’i V ^ '• -1 ; t '« , ■• \ ^ \\ ’ t'M /tt^. >•: i: i l*lip if • ■■* .Wi ^^•*.?^^' . , ,5 li* ' * ^■^i" .^}'.' ‘ ■ ^- ■ ® *> .. 'i'.. . - '•' • ( ' >'■ ;,.< .‘.’ri., , PP 1 *'^ '■',,■’ '■ . / 'W , j '«©■-. ^ 4/r^.AlHHKl^H .>^W.,'v/i.4‘’: L=i *' .* '!■ . I ■ >’■ (’■ I*.' - . V' .( ■ill '■ . .•■ < 49 ence upon hard matter of* fact, the data of experience, as the basis of speculation, positivisui is affiliated v;ith Hume, Ttrgot and Diderot, and the whole current of eight- eenth empirical philosophy. The work "positive", according to Harrison, is taken to condense seven ideas implicit in positive thought: " real — useful — certain — prec is e — organic — relative — sym - pathetic . " Theology and metapnysics have no place in the positivist rationale. The supreme power which mia.n can recognize about him is Humanity. This means, not as some ironica.l critics have assumed, the apotheosis of our con- temporaries, but "the active stream of Human civilization." It is neither ini'inite, omnipotent, nor perfectible. But it is real . There is nothing contemiptible or ignoble in this ideal. Absolutely , man is a speck; relatively and historically, as regarding the life ne has to live on earth, mian is supreme. The position of posltivismi as a matter of logic is agnostic toward the existence of a higher power, toward immortality, and the other tenets of Cnrlstlan irietaphysics. She Positivists have adapted, however, many terms of deep religious significance to their own uses. Harrison stoutly maintains a claim to such words as "immortality" and "Providence" although in his hands they lose most of the hallowed associations which have consoled hun;anity in past ages. Harrison's immortality consists in the incor- poration of the good men do into the race heritage. The immortality, ror instance, of Milton and Shakespeare con- X rrw, X. _* ' " rm . , V;nits uk ■ 4’^'' •* ‘•^l' 4^ t ji£i*r^#i' J ^ ."*k* • •<■ ' r” ■ X .-o r ^ • \r ,f*T^ I V'^ . t >. ^ ♦►trutu 1 '/.' • tj f.- #i!tkr - {*$. ■■. ^730 1 ^Itd/V,' \ - 'i **. '. ‘ 1 .i;'lv'-"‘ * .: *• W ’ . ■■^ I r> 5»)a ' • * "S i •Vi t -s* i' J . *11 ^ -r».r t,v^,' ^ I I '*■'' : no tj ii -- a.« •'' .*:*, L’‘> . - •' . ,(i .u: t ' • . A -.t 4 'U. Lil * , II-.’ L®**’ '^ ■ ' ■ * ,: • ■:» •' **'7'-' ' maT L»iirV . ’ A'f^ ■ f- t--a ' <4 /mL 4 i ,_, .' ' '’ 'f. n I ' j" ' • 'nr ! • ( *.‘*1 0 .y ''■< : ‘Di, fiit^ ^ ‘ ? U i 0<>V A«I.T1 ' I ♦• j** . ^£«iikJf! 'j..» - iT‘J * *« / •i 4 '''u»i ,. .< ■ j-’v . ”tr»- I ?i,/ ^ ^ ^ i ■ * . »ii i'J' ■' k- :• f*-' * ’ «ri ■ ' .' <>. 4 '. < ,. •. . «iV/■ . V- * . ' , .' tf' . 'V ^ ■ ‘ ■ ■ "■>'■ j . . . JiiBP' •, -.|/.:Ar.*fV •*•: ‘v.^-ra .:i,l . , '* i’i -*i ■>■ '<•’ ■ > r-T'^ -^' “■ ^ ‘•9*^ ' ';iV: ‘.' v' .:- .- .■^’ * .'‘I * I ' * ' L hi. .M ■ ’Is "''■ ■• ' . 4-V* .—,,,. - ft*,' j ~ **o^ '."'■'^B, •'.' < *:3u3t^^,.;-o%J; fii7 B^’'b ' -j M / K', ► r f • ^ ‘ ’ -i'' *'.'■ J '4 ?. 'ViSf 4 -H iTji; [.>"•. .‘^1 ■ '■wl ‘ *■** '■* * *■•• '» ' ■'jC-i.' ' 1 ^, |:£ 9 ^ 4 irfii t*, '''*• r._j ' '•■•■♦‘v'u ;..i : a. , •;• .■•. -^tv t o> ' life i J, •' #' :*0*l ■&*'' . n.;Rt! t.; ix g?y- Ift. Rf- a,, ' *'• iflii , ,i"z«w!WWbPIP^: \ ■ Xi *f ■'^'l ' *w.» •' , .. \p , ■■ ’' 5 ;^ '.f '^L l V -< »J , . (14.-' . ,. ■■ ft !v !' I’X ■>'■ fife ■ -'Ols ■ > M ?A* >S!i ' ' ■' ?it- , h ^.v ‘ . V - -i .k[ .T£ ■: Tk(u v" ! " ... -~ . '■ '■<• V’ K ./.■*£ ,■'■ '' 1,,',/, 40*1 ‘■ 'f'*i.W • C ,v-^ *><*•. ■ *1^ 1, ■. .V’ A^V*' , . 73 T. V,. ; .■■■ . ■ - •., V ^ ^ jl .. rft*r‘.in t ^ L* "^1 ||^. V. " yrv‘;n;1. ■ v4 1 ' 4&'i- ■ " ' '■a I ■*^'' . 1 t I V. ■-^ •- I‘ii '■ tt FJI I ••iiii. i i ■ '■"•’'' 4 S? . ■ , .ir.: ' • >V- ' ’ - .*i^ *. ’ ' . i • ■ im, ' - ^■|‘^'.-' '■y V*' ■ *■ ” • .4 *«4'* 'v‘ ■ ,• y ^ -■fi .ii: '<'^. yl '•> ’ -j J.p -'^■•1;, r'*W* ■'*^'*' '’"I'/rS ■ *' -4'' ^ ^ j' -■ <• ■..'*}•. •hr t - ' Tklt* .i'*'v4&‘v.^ j <■'.-■ s>'' ■ •^'' m *lMK^i^Mtilif< X /“i^U . ej,;. ‘ I 4,.;a*|/iij ‘:"v..i*l'v.. X .i I V v-,T *.,:>. 3'■■ ii«' , i» .^ > # . >r . . k w* •• .♦*'1^ : ^ •■• - y . I :.;jj;.-Tr-«i3i!^#f .|i v.‘ \', V.'^" .•',* _ . „ *■ ^ tr 3 lr' ^ ^ ,-5 vift _*'■•'*' i * Kiizj 1 iswtrT .' , .*.v« ix 52 protlems, was deep. and effective. The whole positivist sociology is based upon the notion of the amenability of society to evolutionary law. The positivist is coni'ronted virith a world capable of improvement, and has cultivated in himself a sense of his individual responsibility for its betterment. While Harrison occasionally is fascinated for the moment by a glittering generality, his ideas on sociology, economics, education, politics, and art, are happily uniform in their concreteness and taken together present a complete, consis- tent, synthetic attitude tov/ard lli'e. I now propose to examine them. It is instructive to approach Harrison’s position by the comparative miethod. One v/ould expect to find con- siderable agreement in treatment of practical problems in two systems of thought so closely associated in their phil- osophical basis and historical development as positivism and utilitarianism. Such is indeed the cs.se. The positivists owe no smiall debt to the utilitarians. V/e often hear the spirit of J.S. Mill in the words of Frederic Harrison. They v/ere in agreemient in their general conception of sociology as a science, on the Comuian classification of the sciences, on altruism as a basis for social organization on the social character of labour and capital, and on the duty of the individual to the social organism. Both sought to guarantee, in the immortal phrase, ’’the greatest good of the greatest number”. They differed, however, on the means of attaining the end they both sought. Harrison • 1 vn*', *J o ',.. - 1 . l>•^ *• . -jHlla iN~ . hf\o> l # ML 1 , I ’ V.' i . - • s”-. , , V i ■■ iv ^^■/ M 'vjr^ f^^r-rv,\u^^'r^''^ ' i V, ' ^, . V r*o. '. • •T- ' ;t .;» 4 ‘ 4 ' ■'?* ‘ ‘f -"7 ' ''‘^?\ - . 4 V*e.o, <.A . ' .•■■•^ .. j(^ill\';' . I ,V ' i»T* V'"' ■ v | J^.' y f ji^ «i w^o.^ i-4 r;i . '^ ♦ ^ '^i J •• .J - ♦ ,• N>. ^ '. Ti,rH.t;;i-i , i'.l l » fV* »i*W ■ ■■ ’ Llr- ' ' ' i' /’ , ■ 'Cj. V -• vi''*, ' /^'' \ B^'r..'- . - ‘ • 1 *.^ .« ■•■T.v.*** . . ■ '-:!{'^ ■•:*|»*' / 'll 4 4 ' f* fc J" y ^ I ^ ' 'ilj^nWflL 4 ^ ^ ^1 »*1 ''’'* i.ir ., -.M. ■ < 4 >l t.^/' ^ajj \ ., .. .«■■■ ««- iS , T--- -TT ' .nc'.-i*,! u »‘.. •iwi2./‘K-: 'i-0 •■■ jj 1 M ^ . f# .;/» ''I •■.^" 'i' • «• TfX\ •j . ,.»»■•?■ 1 , • , • iV'*.': • r^ .:* triH*j.j/#» ryi,’ < "^ ’ . • - t<.‘T 4 . \'WV .li4 ,rTf.V Evr. ' .r ', , ■ ■ ■ r * tj 1 'it' -■•■X X4t*G* V I Levy ■ 5 ^-; 'f.v € • ' X- Vg' I . « . ^ 41 ,. i* * i ■ d-f itself "“f'r >. ■ *• M \ r.iii .'*. ' ■ [. . ' : i *■■■"';- T «jij|^|i ^ » ■•* ' L *’* 't ' T <^-1^;- p.utr.-v. , :.| , / VlU , _, '^'‘ 1 -4 S •• '•'a'*'. ' . . w ■ " • ■ y *1^ ‘ ■■' '“'^Hh/'rafl -i W. ■ J^jBIbw ■ , I ’ • - '**^C ‘ W ' ‘ •f U ,i% .- .^-‘ ■(■*'- '■ »’w " f ■• .:w: - ^ ‘ ■■•'HmkR^’:.' 4 vv. -$ *;r. w^-- ', 7 ^ ,,,, 54. the medieval conception oi' tne individual's daily work as a reciprocal duty, a social 1‘unction. The revival of the relation of lord and yeoman b etween employer and employee, the one affording sustenance and protection, the other giving loyal service and fealty, was an inte- gral part of this scheme. ViTithout pausing to examine the historical ac- curacy of this picture or its present desirability, let us pass on to view the aristocracy of the positivist utopia. "The final and human formi of society" is that which "makes the sole title to honour or to power the exercise of capacities of great value to the community." Harrison arranged for a more active participation in the life of the community for the aristocracy than that of game-preserving or ovming land. With a conviction epual to Carlyle's , Harrison preached the gospel of work as the salvation and destiny of man. "It is, af'ter all, the one uniiarpiness of a man” , wrote garlyle,'*' "that he cannot work, that he cannot get his destiny as a man ful- filled." Says Harrison, "Idleness is the anti-social vice... The first step towards a wholesome, human, and social religion, is a religion which will consecrate labour." Industry "is the only natural and honourable form of activity." The opportunities for the Carlyleian man in the Positivist Utopia are plainly spacious. But what of the aristocracy? As has been shov/n, Harrison would deprive them of their play time, presenting them in- 1. Past and Present. Everyman Ed. p.150. i v'"-vv- *_ ^.'^i.ist * 11 ' / * '.?ir 7 ■ 1-' .fr ’’* ' ■ t >>-.>'. ■ .: • •: ',: '■ ■*(]•! ; "-'J ■MS.* :^’ o< "u-.p'-.T •' . ■ **■'*• ■■■«, ' ' •ii'''''*'' 4*:^j|v'‘ J'l. 'ri i.o>; uXiX.i'r.- *' .r; *.,i.. .j'1# rJ^ •.♦ ' M?'- ■ r. s'i j '**• *'*' '^', "■ '* . ■;<) ~~ - * ' ■' 4 •' I i '-1 ^ '"J. ' -,7(.' ;. I V’" /'' I . *. ii'i A" . jTt .g ■■’“" I . I =?t .», * “ • ' ' , T r , ‘i ^ . ■» I4'^ii4 v-,r*rg- ii*.,ttn > f¥ %u*f '■ . ^dt IS ) . ti-t\ ■>’■ '♦ ’.' ' 'r ‘fe :i: ^. h 'V*‘. ^ ^^'amvA■ld^v '#4^ *0 j j K'>. V’ 4 J- ' \ ^ SF^v- . . t ^ '. n C, ■ -ft , ‘"W«1.-5|5B •• ..wvt t./4;W'V ^'i'. '« jT ..4^.'' *' 4? i,t - ..M <>-• i ‘ f', 4 i -t'! ^4 4 I Oi'*'" "■*. 'fHUi ' V . rtf. ' •, w: .4»'.^giai ' 4 *ur M h . » ': ., .rr *..^. ’ « *«gHl3 - ^.3 f \.'.vV ■ '^ . ■ •■ "SLl #1 > I V- f .’.itj'v"' 4v7.*«Dfl »• Jt^4'e% ' *: 0* rf* I ' ^ , ' ' I .'(' 1''"- ’ , ~.» 4#r. ^ AX. jTU<'a>' ■'^7 -silla&i ■'• ^ 7*Ste»*Sr • • 55 . stead a serious purpose in life. ViThether this medieval, militaristic, regimentation of society for industrial purposes ViTould turn the palate of the modern Englishman or Ac'ierican, will probably never be knov»m. The rights of private property, according to the Positivist theory of v/ealth, are not to be disturbed, but rather confirmed; not, it is true, as moral rights, but as a matter of social convenience, and because private prop- erty redounds to social progress. Here it becomes evident how sharply positivism in its social aspects differs from all forms of communism and socialism. All these seek afar the m.eans of redressing present ills; all seek a radical reorganization of society. It is, in all such programs, a material, physical redistribution; in positivism it is moral. It is necessary here briefly to notice the ante- cedent conditions of industrial organization which, Har- rison believes, will furnish a.n adequate check on the mis- use of thrower of privately controlled wealth. Like the utilitarians, Harrison proposed the limitation of popula- tion, and by the same agencies; postponement of marrie^ge, and continence v^ithin the bonds of matrimony. In addition; the establishment of the minimum wage, the eight-hour day, free education, popularization of the idea of work as a socia.1 duty, the creation of a group of men "whose sole bus- iness it is to counsel, inspire, and moralize society", — and, need one add — "an accepted religion, practical, hunmn; enforced by public opinion and by a recognized 7 ^ • 6 il. \ ■'I ” • •- ■> a'if ' • t - r. 'TTfikiw^ , ■■ ■.'' {,\VM 1 - ' i ‘‘iiJ Cj ; 0<1 1 . , I . ijit ’■ '■' " ' r - '£1 «/fO(t^ 4 r‘ A’^;^ ■,%>!. I \ ^ ‘I (T'i'XfC ■ *! ■ "■ ' ■ • •'. ■ IL _ .fiw ■»*»:>* t«Vi!^' jf ..t.•■J)‘; ...V '«,. •fvltt^; 4 *i'se‘(te.jij,ii, ATI I 15 - ' 5 CS '" • ^ •' ■ ikIJt:/ . '» * .''AA. ;W^ .yjl(' :WH^] • : . 1 V 140*. ItA I .., /'*i 1 t ■ •- l»- - a-:'f...4Bi (*-'M I ^ (fl?'; jS'* t li ■■ ''■•■' \^- '.''}(>> * !i ' -I k. . ‘ ■i'’*»i K jj'i ' t .f! N w*T'v<»Vii; [. . ^,Cdo^> ,'•’. c%. 1 % .* if- V" ' - >l .,, jjfi C t‘ ; . '-T, ^ , , .. 5 ' . w.c; ^f ■ 'i ^ >'i>,A’\»4i i. 4 t.iv u**V.v^ 4 ' : v/.t-tr, .tin . «uv9QRV<') hLi‘'iIk M.w" • ■. 4 *ik: vv(?*v‘%r>^v* 4 Ti. ;fl a./tv.--' v^’ r*^ •!'>- •.i•^;^,/i 4 -i f:;* ■ , '415 X « '/' ■ I f 1 i •!■ i k» Jk ' ■'J l-Tk *yj , , ' *-t / • jf* ? ’■ ,ii, \-f>^> . ‘^^-3 '{!■■ •^' li'Isf’V ,'X «9 .: 4 li ^.iij^,-; • /J ,,,i;i t -Cl,; t'^, O'm y*'hii4^‘* la i.'i , .AV j '!> I church or order of teachers". All social energies, finally, public opinion, the talents of the artistic, intellectual, and philanthropic group, club and plat- foriTi, would constantly insist "that the eEiployirient of capital was a social duty, and that the management, use, and transmission of capita,! stood on the same footing as the functions of a general of an army" , ^thereby restrain- ing m,ost powerfully the idleness, selfishness, oppression, luxury, and instinct for misapproT.)riation of the capital- ist classes. The old antipathies and bitter animosities which "Capital" and "Labour" represent v/ill melt away when we learii to capitalize Humanity. Then "the v/hole condition of Industry would be transformed if those v/ho mcOiage the social capital of mankind v/ere expected to behave as those p do 7/ho direct armies and ships of the common-wealth." Harrison's ideal of revealed economics, in which the industrial hierarchy of Capitalist and workmen will be translated into a similar hierarchy of sociologically in- clined seraphim and cherubim, choiring the gospel of work, depends, it is to be noted, upon their attairjnent of an altruistic, social point of view. Its attainment, hov/- ever, rests upon the "antecedent conditions" which have been catalogued above. Harrison's regeneration of so- ciety depends upon the moral and social education of the individual, which Itself is possible only in a regenerate society. Implicit assumptions debilitate arguments. When we bring them all out here and scrutinize them, we find 1. On Society p.l52 2. Ibid, p.268. ■ . ■ ■ ' ’ " ’ ' * V na'|g«^r*' il .t'Al* ^'a s.c:i --x.. 'It ^ 5i;i;-:r^.‘ "'V "" O' «4Ti^4'*^k ' ' ' '=• '’‘I (, .' ^ 'V- . tu-iM' 1 uV -fi V-'I ■'»'■*' ‘4| Xtu* ■V^ 5»i*]riiar . ' > ^ ' V’* ' 1 nv H \ foilt. ,1'it . * ...-WT.tJjl *-’•'' ' ^ V. 1 -: ■ ' taA .®t': i I ‘ i. ' ■|OtA* Hi' r- 't XV ^i' i :i-' .- I A". i#> ;■ !,.> a- ■ 'Kt V T * .r . '<5^ V 'Wk -*.,*tovi^ ' 'J'!? '.0 ,•!.=■••- i •> “ ,'rD»JWV'V V .-. i» V..OI,; ii/«i..^X‘i5J»a f T.HII... •• . ' • I ' i i» ' 1 ~ i V • 4 / * ■ ' u. .sWifA . . . ■'■ ‘ '' . ' '>A '" '■ ' ’ Ai lif J I*.. ; V liJi : .1 . 'I. ,j4rf''i'x.o* *: «iAi#i* *' OiMti0, • * ‘ ^ ’- ■-■'•- ‘ . 'i ■ ■' I'e*"' •''■ ' '■ ■''' ‘■ i- t 1.. xSvX n,iyf V Vx ■ . X ''“C" ,1 ' . "7 ^ ,7^^ajMgv ‘ u : '•• n «? ;' ■ i. * ‘k jQyjgjiii ^ ^ -y . u i lfcr:r-y 57 . that the arguirient at this point has described a coraplete circle. III. The end oi education is civilization. The pos- itivist vievi? of education demands in the individual a clear conception of his condition and pov^ers, and most of all, of his duty tovi^ard his fellov\^s. He studies "to strengthen his mind, and give it material for the true v/ork of education — the inculcation of human duty." "What we need are clear principles about the moral ns.ture of man as a social being; about the elements of human society; about the ^ nature and capacities of the understanding." Harrison stoutly maintains the supreme impor- tance of the principle of free, widely disseminated edu- cation in guaranteeing the liberty of the individual in the free exercise of this faculties, and the development of whatever capacities for self expression there may be in him. Common education, he wrote, is "the root idea of the Positivist scheme of society." On it rests Harrison's hope of accomplishing the moral revision of society away from the selfish euhlcs v/hieh now pertain in the practical economics of such empirical sociologists as bricklayers, carpenters, bakers, and millionaires. "The first condition of the working world in the Positivist^ scheme is, that it is an edu- cated world." ^ 1. The Meaning of History. H.Y. 1895. p.l3 2. On Society, p. 169. i .J' i 1 4fi T • ^ * A- T. • . S-. ' «5, ■ ^ ft «Lj. fey - ■-./.- ^ tO'-T^xV ^ .«» : i-- V“ ■ • C • * ' ** ■* ‘^- 'v' ' ’ ^ 1 1 4 iio #43 ^ ^*' ' ' ' ff >i^ ..yt«/. • •; «.''<<■ '■*,'? Mr vvrm'yft>,j-^^’'\?‘ 4 ^ ', ■ ,^. ■ a 1'^' >>j^5ii.-. *^' " ^ r.., . f. -.I -a'* ‘’.t' ,.- v^f‘ L;i;.vi;r 'xii^jsir/ .a .(^ t - . tJi: - , i. - in. : .;i‘^ : • ; - ^.vvvi •'. > W%tl I ru'-'i', *» ■' » ' ■ , .4 .<>3 j • : \ •.'I - V. ^ • ;-MTfVN - tri*» P ’ t \i ‘i,*..* i.' * ^ V" ; j-l: rtK «v . ■f\' p ri ■ t ■^*|- ItA- iM. 4 . j »ja :-.;-j : »>’ ii.r 15 j: ail£t;t(^^i. sgi,n ,- 4 ».. ; a .*^. J fu’-*’ A .* ? '■■ r, ^4i ;^0 ■|ij;f« ' i"', ’r ■‘'(.J " ' , ^ S'- ’><.• ' ,t»' riii’iAii;jf - 'liqi n ,i V •‘‘v *lv»i-i'fii4i(vi;; -ut ' 4 ■■ ^ '■■ ia^'Sviv li r'v’^3ii^ ■.-{ I ' . "Vi 'A =J.'.;K- ' '•’/ ‘ ;’i‘ li- 5 8 Education is to be taken in a bigii, serious sense, as " a training in the Poetry of the v/orld, in the elements of Science and History, and a course of Philosophy and Religion." Under this scheme, "workmien would be, socially speaking, gentlemen, and, scientifi- cally speaking, philosophers." There v/ould be created in this way a true moral equality, and an enli^itened pub- lic opinion which would act as a sort of moral centre- board in the ship of state. It would make gentlemen of the masses, and sensitize theiri to the highest Interests of England. In like manner Positivist education would in- evitably enroll emiployers among the socially minded. They viTould constitute a sort of Industrial chivalry, with great latitude for the exercise of the higher disinter- estedness. "Just as in old time, the great swords and neroes or the miedleval world Intervened to protect the weak and to see justice done, so in the new industrial world it will be the part of men, without public functions, pos- sessed of great capital, to intervene to assist the v/orkers at critical times, to maintain them in a just strike, to meet exceptional distress, to prevent local acts of oppression and to supply public services in a crisis." The munificent benefactions of the rich Athenians to their city, the great public spectacles and amusements offered the populace by the Roman patricians, suggest ro the historical mind of Harrison the opportunity for another pareullel, in which the wealthy of the United 1. On Society, p. 176-177. ■■ i»*> f.j., ••■'** i.*f'i-*r>a tf,C' ’ 4 -*-*—■■ , j> 11 ^ tii li' ^ T, -' ■ * ’ * > fr ' ^ ^ •, f 4 *to*;r r«r t’iiri". '..^ i'd>' i> !,)m' r 4i(^tnifj;o tSit^ ;’•'■«!* • iH V^...;' "c ' .a .... t-B "-few- ''■■ ■•.^' ■ -4i..i •: *e..Wi ';p .!jE;4*v.4»^ tfij fc*5/0;O4^'. v' V..‘ “‘ .1 !m ^ X t r;> , y ■. ..i i .J;.\ • •■•■“ jfrj^^rjr L 0 i"'- , r .i%.' i'::,'3% "fi'l*. Av 4>>J ♦■' ' L ^ h; ■ ^ I •’ l.yv . . ^ /' v\ -k l’ I' ;- ti; , , ;^!.- ‘* . '■ i -2 ■' ■ 4 ;'.' . p-L-i (»■' :f '■ '^^->. o<^ t ,u,..'rj^v iw, .:- V7: ». . f'%vt V» ^ ■ as# ‘ ^ .■‘ V. ' All ( %v ‘If y. -!i ■• .., ' } ■' i‘\ A»t ' if >-i. > :;i*P 4 A rt' IJrvr ^ 156 ' ■ ' - — -ifc. ' • "'■■■ ' '■ - v ' ■ '• ''^’-^t-ci '*' ' Vf''''^,V' A'^-v.nti' ^.“-- ’i 'i.‘ t.pi(to>r “j '.CT 59 Kingdom v/illte in the future educated up to a graceful diversion of "cheir private revenues to the uses of so- ciety. Let us tur 2 i to Harrison's word on twentieth cen- tury pedagogy. He attained the ripe vigour or late mid- o die age with t ne ci^se or the nlneteentn century, tne clr- cuiTiStances or his ov/n youth gradually mellowing in his mind, merging tneir more salient outlines in the purple distance. It is the period of lil'e in which eminent men are given to oracular utterance on the contemporary scene. So v/e find Harrison looking about him sharply, scrutiii- izing the early twentieth century with Victorian particu- larity. Harrison lignts upon education, among other topics. When he can announce "I have now an experience of some forty years as student, teacner, and examiner", custom and convention unite in allowing him full freedom to ex- press the "profound conviction" that "At scnool and at college, lads and girls are being drilled like Gerraan recruits — forced into a regulatlo^style of ^ learning, of thinking, and even of writing." ^ This accounts too for the state of literature in his later years. Harrison finds it only moderate in q.uallty and fastidious in its standards. The discovery that literature is in a deplorable state is not ini're- quently made by elderly gentlemen. We need not be deeply concerned that Harrison does not rise above the limita- tions of the flesh. His reasons hov/ever jumr) consistently 1. Mem-ories and Thoughts, p. 10. TO n. ■ ¥1 BP . _r . /fCT-'lr |''< I ' * • - • J ''* r"' “?■ ■''''. : i ,' . . 'i. .-. t^L^ f "* ■»■« '. /tw •^^■■i> 9 gf A. .» ' fi‘ll J W' w li . . A 'm' r^ *■ -Nv" '4 Cv t j -rL^ *";v4 ‘4£|4i^ , . L'^■ ■ ' :-.■ (f ;.. a rxli ‘ ;.,.''^-'T • IWMt- V.’ititi MW .*►.<» "t s^ jt fmvX^ '■}.?' ‘ . P -.;;*l. '^A iCfj.' ,•- t ->^iiii.. iiu -ifi • . \v’oC haivj w rw ; - -'s." . Mii¥''. '• ■’ *' ***•' *' . "f , ( uaJ. (I . *. ■ ~"^ 'H , 1 ‘'J'iT y oi»y.i; 4 ^ «*<•’> iv^O ili^ ;* t 1 (Lt <"XJ<-W ■ 4ii. ' t /(aijtrfeu u , « 'Wir^. * .5 ., ■■ ' : “>7 4 •.^i,:;; r, • • • u,i ;-^ VV'i . . "‘)fV ^ >.» ' 4 NI-- f - '..if •> ’ <^>f r ^ it,-7 Xji i* >!\ •;.' •’. ; ' 'A'. ' ’ '•' • I'jPI '•C'4'tJiiJ !i 4*' <#!/lfc*^ijSI,‘«.lj((# )•• vft ;wj ' ' *i::^ < f- '’■* V I. • - , rr^lji ,, , ’:,W ■IV:/ ■ with his criticism of the educational ideas nov»r in vogue. Universal education is directly responsible for our large body of fair literature and the utter absence of the best. This statu s quo is "the penalty of giving ourselves up to mechanical culture," It is a strange circumstance that Harrison did not perceive that his ovm educational progrem was weak in precisely the same way in which the systera in force is weak. He complains in i^uite the spirit of Mill against the dangerous uniformity which modern science and culture have introduced into European life, while advocating earnestly a scheme which gives to education an universal efficacy and moral ascendency claimed for it by no one but a positivist. Diffusion of the instru- mients and uniformity of the practices of education must evolve a product standardized and trade-marked. IV. Politics in the Positivist view, is a substan- tive part of religion. The theoretical ethic of the Higher Good to v;hich both the civilized and uncivilized nations of Christendom pay lip service, coupled with a practical code of selfishness constitute to Harrison an impossible, anomalous, but remediable situation. The key to Europeaii domestic politics, Harrison virote pro- phetically in 1906, is self-assertion. Hation shoulders nation for primacy; even the moral sciences, literature, art, history, and philosophy are contaminated by the spirit of chauvinism. I qj in .i H Bi — I KP k'.'. > ' i ' •' ■ "' ^ -.t- . . • ■ ' "I i !.<»«: I;v u " ' i *'■ >" ^ '•' R ■■ -T . ■ J , *,-'1^ ■'■ ^ ‘ j . "lo ujj :.rt/.' \;sj«Ar I Utl- " V" f., \ ^O'i^ 0 ■' ’ ' *■' ’ • I .j^.. .. - .la-vr ’. ■■. r-iiu/XMiitJpo^ ^ T ■ '* ‘ tuH. ■ :V- - •.;.. '^u^A'xc '■ . V. 5S®C. ■'•' i .• '' * ‘‘{^’^ <'. Wji^nvi r'‘> vj»vl^ J '■'■JlJ'':»ft|v"■ '■ ii Wi/JirO.-'iia a- 4 Hii-:', '/-if- .’"»! ;• :>i v'lWi.*"'^' A'Pti '■ ."4 . b»\^ . ' ^ ,%0: l.'i s‘> tr^ ^ •.' 1 ''A I ’ -I' ', i * ' vmSii ‘^4 <> *» 1^' . 7i U' tj'CUl vrrrt U*i' ■ ■ . " V '/.t r. ' ,u -^c . ,>*^«'<-; .•» ■ ! ^ ‘ : ^jT-^ . ‘ 1-- ■ ■ ■■ • i . **r t;? ‘ .■:l1jU)^tfvv^‘^b30o4^|^iw ' . - o •'^ * V ’1 - ? .1 i. u i ; f ■ : , «f . I i t\ . 4 1 r^i' I ;ii f’Xt • ! . . V : ->s ^ ^ ,‘. 5p •' .' -v'-* ’*•• ••••-■ ■ > r.? ' " i •:•-■ «^xn( li^Uw- *t64Bi&-^ ■ • ' -*■'** . %! . ", t- I ■ • *jml (f/1 rv iV' • '■•■ Qs •-.'•t .;-.i;'.7 ; ^i^L :j*,» X^. i. > ;'^ . .# r. L' ^ f-i4 » '/ d! WiS ' "^ ' ■ i , * ■ ' f.-.'i^; '' ■ ‘.i • onrv Wf 9 t ij , WilHV,/ 'Vi'» '^■^^.r;■iJ•^» ■^# T . ‘ ... .^, , .. r- i-ili 61 All this is clearly descriptive of the imper- ialistic attitude. Uo where does Harrison align himself more definitely with the liberal tradition in the nine- teenth century than in the spirit in which he attacks questions of international morality. Harrison lived to witness what Cobden, Bright, and the others of the Manchester school of economics did not foresee; that free trade, instead of ushering in the millennium, would re- sult in greater armaments, and keener national animosities. Harrison's attitude in foreign affairs has already been traced in the previous chapter, as part of the history of his personal development. It was consis- tently liberal from the time v/hen, nine years of age, he rejected militarism as represented by the corpse of the Duke of V/ellington, and refused to attend the funeral of the great general, to the end of his life. Turning to the domestic affairs of the British Empire, we find, among the topics which interested Har- rison, University reform, Parliamentary reform, and Irish Home Rule. He was a member of the executive committee of the celebrated Jamaica committee (1866) by which a group of prominent liberals "endeavored to bring to the bar of justice Governor Eyre and the civil and naval officers who had wantonly carried out so-called Martial Law, and put the leaders to death without trial, in defiance of Con- stitutional Law."^ J.S. Mill was President of the com- 1. Autobiographic Memoirs, I. p, 313. V 4^ mym 'll .’> ■■•( I n: « ^ • N', f ^ i.‘_f Jk\ '^. - *’ *. ^ • . - ' i r ' ; 4* ^L \ , ' >• ij N * *. v^r."!' . j _ M-i, t».. -ifolrlv ni 4 wl riw‘W t! .* \i<. :t. ^ '. - v.-.K ''’■■.■?• • MM •'*1 ■-* *.ii' •.’.* £%lU!iO \:fai^4t.2 ; ■•; •. -'■■ ■ '■ ^ M ^ !’ i 'v "T M vs' . # -j *'u - • (i JL >Aio * _ iM '- "tin 51 J ;o ’ 3» V-i-ii *’f ■> - •<■1 • -.-r' • * M.'fi ..'.U C.U ‘■'If ’ -M- *"j ^.* _* I * ' • ^ / ‘ ■* ei*.- , ,t..f. ..ajiijitM ‘»'!>{ I ■ , • t-.V t ‘ V-ji /I ' '^'-1 ''jr; , VI Iff ( iV-'< *-** -V' I !i . 0, .'’’ ' It* i-*S V J ▼ fr -J 1 o#-V4»‘a S' /" ' ‘ '> ,, Jfc.. I ‘: .-‘A™ • >.4» ’' " ‘ ' ■ ''VtJillbVaJI'i. I” C\ta .’f'i.jirt •• ■ ' ; M *^ ^ i ! w. ^ , ly j(j| "' - i'l , • . ,(■ .vO-tosT/- iir4'ifi,5ii'’‘ £i rtfs^i* -l"i ,j' 4 *^W . ' 'uV; ' i 0 : 4 ‘*‘ ..t|J*,‘iv.-'4Jt'^' ' V '■ ,' I ■!:•■'' tffi A' Wi Ulfwr vu.- ^ , 1' r- ^ ■ .v> i|j|^ al. ^ t ' > ’f - ■ . r- * , i'' V afd 62 mittee. Leading members were Jonn Bright, Huxley, Thomas Hughes, Goldwin Smith, and Herbert Spencer. Cariyle, on the other hand, v/as at this time an active member of* a parallel, but opposed, committee formed to defend Governor Eyre and the military officers who had Cfcirried massacre and torture through the island under the pretext of enforcing martial law, Harrison at this time published a caricature of Carlyle's literary style, and his position in defending Governor as the "strong man", entitled "A Hew Lecture on Hero-^/^’orship, " Tne fame of the incident which evoked it, and the suc- cess of the parody make it worth quoting in part. The introduction gives Carlyle's characteristic flavour vvith amusing fidelity. "It may be known to some men (or it may be uiiknown) — in tnis purblind generation it matters little — that 1, Tnomas, have been going about this sad world of ours, my masters, in search of a true Man." The new carlyle finds his "true Man" in the person of Lieutenaiit Brand, an officer charged with murder as a result of his activities in the Jamaica Insurrection. The skit ends in a comic eulogy of the lieutenant, not untouched with asperity. "A youth tnis wno, when he notes unveracity in a man, can say witn beautiful lest geistichest simpleness, "You lie"; and when he is angry says, with no amphilogisms, "I will shoot you." A leader to be obeyed tnis, who v/ill say to a man under him, "D you, do this." And if* he does not, "Give hi^ two dozen." Ahl scrib- blers, laviryers, representatives of the People, Morality-mongers, puppeteidolons; and phanttis- magorio-histriones, do not your own backs tingle at tnose small words, "Two dozen"'/ iiiy friends, let us cnerish this youtn, and it may ' ■ ' ‘Ti ■ j ' iu- iji.; -> T^Jl.; .'i ,T i, ii'C fr-»4 '• ,Ki4jJ “t’-n^C. . AuL ♦ *i\i s'; ' '*'M ^ .amm^ ^ t^■^ J? . ' ui«'i. ^ t'^v^xL -lo ! ••* " ■• • ‘J ' i j ‘ ‘ ’ ’IJiH ^ *' ■ ^ ^ ^ ^ ■ *’ ‘ ’ ■' * ’’ ' *'" ' *^' '' ■ ■ *' ‘ '■'ivu'i '^' J- ^ ? V Tiioi 1 ^";? » ,-t; ^ * . '* ' ' Li f "I ,*• % T ^ •' , ''*■ ‘.'*i^X., 4 ,:JlV' i :.Msi'i . t .» 0 ' *Wifrjt M '0 i * •* ' ■ i’ jp-' * >, ‘i 1 L'. ’ r ;i <» Mtl‘^iC«^’r'' ' '', *^.'^ \it'' ® ■• rj,^ ,,. , ■>' •'•»^ • i' ..^^* tA.-i/A a. . n jr .4 • ■• J p.-g^* ir.vj' -i J’; ‘ v;.'«fci .***■.■• B »*■ • . '.f /»4.fc .it^i 4.;,idl, • ‘ - •’ V' . i!*b ' ' '■•■ « ts *. , d n ^ ■ii ' ■ ■ . • w - *►- % '.^ f * ^ tr- i ! 4 - I'* J •. :.^,r Si'^. 'iV.itiL* TL - ' ■ •-< -Y -. « - ■ 4 t; -- • -s* TTT De well yet in this bewildered God's earth or Devil's earth -- for if it be God's earth or Devil’s earth inq.uire not too cautiously, knov/ing only that it is meant for the man who can go his own way, and make whosoever , gets into his way go everlastingly squelch."'^ Harrison opposed tne annexation of Egypt, tne prosecution of the Boer War, and always viewed the im- perialistic difficulties encountered in India as a just visitation upon England for maintaining a world empire. Harrison reacted violently from the prevalent tendency t(]^rop "England" and "Englishman" for "Briton", "Britain", "Great Britain", or "The United Kingdom." He 3 v/rote in Memories and Thoughts "England is my native land, and the name is good enough for me. Irishmen and Scots can call themselves what they like. So may Can- adians, Australians, Hew Zealanders, and Rhodesians," but, he writes in paraphrase of a famous line penned by a contemporary and compatriot, "In spite of all tempta- tions to belong to these mighty nations, I remain' an Englishman. " V. Harrison ha^- the synthetic mind. He has attempted to embrace history, philosophy, theology, the classics, English and French literature, art, law, the 1. Autobiographic Memoirs. 1-343-44. 2. Memories and Thoughts, p. 261. - — =»' ff. : . aft', — 9 ,:^' ... , .. 41 fc;!*! Mr ^ ?fc ■t -,^i7, , - I ; . %vi5 1 *'i '* l> Jfi*? rtt b^Jlf^. ./'V'i^^* \ , a i h^c ,v'.^ tioso V . \ir< ' i i. **ry'..^ 't^ y ^ u '/i?' ,• ■ v'Ct6U|*‘'^'j'i ■ . ■ 'M :■.., r ■ ,,'''-ir ■ y ,. .-i.' '■ta ' i ' ]SB!- »taiBr^ . -.xa^ ' V% 'TO": rvv " .“i /Miv ' ■ • ■ '*■■ * ‘S#- '"V ^ < ,f^vf*.x;,"^v • ' *'i' Ijn ***■■■ - ■ ’• 'ViraH*^ i' .’■ :; ..wT • ' ‘V.; ^tU'^X-''- -.OSvTT’jl . ,)Aa£^^^V'^ » f^’4^ •> ^ V iVj^u \ . -*.fit^X^«>!i.s^,ty,i, , , ■•■ ' ■ ■ ^1 ‘ - ^ .. : , j - > ’ ' JM AX'* « h’ : -T . 1 ','H 1 . ■' ^ -r ; ,0*-i.. s » 1-i • -rf /fi '■■ u-' ;>“ i ,/ 'v. j U,1 ..“ '\' ij ^ ...# ■4 V • “■ ■• iH ■ fcn ' ^Efco 64 historical develooment and practical application of political, economic, and social theory, and after reach- ing maturity he devoted himself to the serious study of the natural sciences. He has ;vritten on almost every topic v/hich has arrested nis attention. What he has to give varies in value with his familiarity with the sub- ject; hut v/hat he has to give that is in its way uniq.ue, the residuum which remains inevitably with one who turns his pages with any serious intention, is something inde- feasible, the flavor of a deep and attractive personality capable of stimulating interest in every subject about which it plays. The same sureness of touch with which he v;ould pass judgement on a new translation of Euripides, or a new act of Parliament, or v/ith whien he would por- tray the conditions of life in the ideal city, Harrison employs in passing his aesthetic judgements. Hot the least of their merit, one feels, lies in their incorruptible genuineness . What he admires he praises with all the resources of a skilled pen and a frank, generous nature; whatever calls forth his disapproval he condemns with enual vigor, the judgement usually being referred to the principles of a more or less objective standard. Hence the comprehension of the foundations on which his criti- cisms are based constitutes an important and grateful lesson in an age of subjectivity, relativity, and impres- sionism. Of music less than the other arts did Harrison venture to speak with authority. The road to critical. Hj^ (jtjvJ** ;^ 4 i^ '". ■’■■/i^:' . ♦ '• . ■• l-f!' , ■ »y> ■■ =^T -iw-'y > ‘ ^ ' iufl3 I 17 .MV XI? 'jSli^ '' ■ T! 'f»; Vu at (»#*vi*J^’^'‘ • <‘aI •• ^‘ I •. * X... •AC ■f-.. .1 i- , ■*(. f if. W .^w , I. ''S^„ ■' .' j*‘'jlli' -'T 1 k y: 41 ^ r ^ ) .1. •<,'..* * 'tr;;' t 1 * »V^^' ■'■'* ' • It »i'>-'^ ■■•' . y iM'vi, 'I,' . '■ -vv -'v. aHafc.^i i ‘ tjr .'»>'■'•■? .^‘.-'I.fc-r' X,».. .*f.V' ' V ' » I « ^ L-*' ■ ' -i — H ' >■ :.£iM ■• ^ • ■■ yf- . « ^■ /■ ■'!] ’• 'M ' ' ' ^ , • '• 5 H» K'’ ■ ■ ' ** • 1 - ' VA :' t ■ I • '-' * w' ‘ .' •*' .■■•'’...■!![ 65 discerning, appreciation is long and arduous, and almost Impossible v;ithout at least the technical proficiency of the “gifted amateur.” It is a singular fact recorded by Harrison in his autobiography that he was allowed to grov; up without mus- ical training. He was neither taught to sing nor to play any instrument, nor was he encouraged to cultivate an appreciation of music, despite the fact that his mother sang, he remembers, very beautifully. Apparently he took the matter into his ov/n hands, for by 1die time he reached adolescence he seems to have induced his mother to let him profit by the musical opportunities involved in living in a suburb near London. He mentions having heard some great artists of his youth: Jenny Lind, the “huge basso” Lablache, He saw Mendelssohn conduct in 1847, and as a young man of thirty years was present at Patti’s debut. Harrison’s greatest attainment in music was the sympathetic response of the appreciative listener. Being without tecnnical knowledge, he wisely abstained from musical criticism, showing therein a discretion urdiappily missing in most occasional and discursive essayists. Yet Harrison may be heard with respect when he touches upon the moral or socializing influence of music. His tribute in this connection is couched in an elevated tone. “Music is the most social, the most affecting Ib I ; •“i/ g^> >'■ V '* ♦i t » sw. . , , „ , „ jfc ,:.. ,^sfe J|!| i ■ '■ \ t - ^«y h |lf- -1'^' ’ **" f V jtC'iiw* ipr ' * , • * .> \% '•.{>* >• • tk / - ■ : i- ’ . I j'lVi ’,t . ? ’ 4*\ ;'««i!"i CT'-'V '^ l^^'.> ■ .*!' ■“ ’ ' ■ . ioif» ..^s> J yu\ r -r V ' K k - ■* ■* ’ » ^ J w . ..* - - **rt ; -u -^jiv- A.'’’ , '. < : . ; . 3 av.j f*. -^ 1 .*^:? -V 7 .^c©; r . I' .'.vc:-rr*V- « ,TO‘Vl S 4 i< ;--i- /.-i^ '.- ■ . %'■' «.• T' ■. :■ ■,4^^4 JifuTUaC >■ y-i ? . X ■.’t>^‘* 4 ^ ‘ ._ . J ^ U#.. fl.n ,-^.r jjf»- ' V 7»^. ’'. " 0 ■■*.i.'T»*T -U4* ^Vi 'i\ ^r,. . 1 4.?f i.i'< V - .’^ a 'J I - r’.-, i U -<.i^.t^ *rr*r--*'<' <•<£! <% '? '|| - r’.V i U ' '/ • V ' ^- *f WL , ^ E».i.~ 1 ; . ^t ‘ .■•/;' /iM' «'/■ s^ii vlv*- ■ *^o'i*tf?f'.i’ !. ‘'t ,.U . ii : ;!-3 ,»^mV ‘1*^ 'r J ^ i <1 »' r. ■ ■ ,1 titvl'*-' ." Nv.'tj ''»4 lAt'f tt|^|4A ’. •’? ■'* '. / :^' .*.. ; vr - ■* t* i.»' :.vi> 'Hf t' ' • ■ *• w 'i iV J ^•.. ^ *» -. 'Tr-. L. ■ v' • ■» V SvI-*. i|>i iiri^ .Jtt *■ V~ ^ • " .■‘■>»'*f. .w .y‘ >4* »*'• ^ w ’'"Si ■fl *• ‘ ■ ..... 1 " “‘. iv-. -Vt .’ 4!^ r' if* ' • ’’• :i»»ad^ >. -i -'■ ■'i' '"'5’’ ■ V ™ ‘'^i^' to; ■'■'?; fia!i i... . “' U •;» *1 ':. ,J - j .. '/ ' Jklf"a: * • -♦ - p , , ' ‘ . *‘*f> .r '* " ••; ■rf'^SL?-;^ '• r, e-.'xs .•...A'W ■ :'.;\'®IS^- ' Sija ■ < 4 . ' ^ / r ' » ■ ' 3 tit t i 1. 1* . it ^ t:j iC ' ^ ^ • ' , , ' % ' ' ■■ , * .ii' i K ' t . . *• jbW T'-i.' :4^', r^i !•<. . i. r *>,.■. '» ■ ■ ■:,; ', ;r ' --^jj ,' .-.^vX? ’•‘ft ,.i .■: V' '<*'j!JM ■*; »V'^.I^ '.1 . ■'.'■'.* *15 «^^*• V v» B-. , ^ ^ - ■f : 5-j#/vi;4. , 5 ,. .Jt**!;. . . J; !»;' r-' ■■ . ■ ii-si ■' , .f 67 careers of each. If one may see something a hit comic in the conscientious way in which this excellent program of self-cultivation was carried out hy this group of synthesists, there is no doubt, at least, that the occasion held some aesthetic as well a s ethical experience for Harrison himself. In precisely the same spirit the group approached art , ”Art — the history of art in all its branches, the lives of artists — has always formed an essential element of our scheme of education, even of our religious celebrations. Every accessible collection of pictures, statues, fabrics, or anticiuities, every memorable pub- lic building has been systematically studied and its lessons enforced in appropriate lec- tures," ^ The excellence of this procedure suggests somehow the diligent self-improvement of industrious ladies’ clubs in small American cities. Profound reverence for re- ceived judgements rather than genuine experience must ever be one of the lamentable conditions of the demo- cratization of art. The danger must lurk especially near ’when it is the avov/ed intention of the devotee to accept receptively the ministrations of the arts to his religious emotions. If it would appear from v; hat has b een said of the positivistic approach to the arts that they have become for Frederic Harrison too sacred and chaste for the com- prehension of imaginations less untraiimielled , some in- spection of his dramatic criticism will dispel the il- 1. Autobio g. p. S7y. KT, n .** " . 'MW U-ff .■i\ii ' *,’ '» \ a' A i ^.>1 r:4# ?.^' Nt.vfo, «it..i iK'ii'a ‘ • V ^ -'Jw' ' > »Hfl j .• ' ' ' *ito^n*n V \ff¥ ,:■ '.i :.|. ^^v,. -li ? » Cu '■ v‘ ii>'<‘'.f'i' ' -, '* •' r * ■ . • **-*'. - - • . , -;r V » - 'V ^ s« J "' i *'i/w> ,-* 1 t.. ‘i -:y r. ■; mfl, fr,‘ *. k^; } 4 i*w.- ' 'M‘ . ^ f I iK k'« ■-. .i':-, itr-. '.•> •. • I .,. . • , -‘'■- *v. : . 'y^ f ...: . .''y 'V jcriih) J»'4 |' :• p. i«i'. ms^ \i.'' U V it* O. :’l <. '■l♦. *fj.. c ■ ■ . Uivmr'c v;r*; -k 4^ .14 .. ^i..j ^l* .-Jf .- If’ ,» V ' -.A • imwi-U*. a ^ ! 'i, ' . ,''-r'''^.-w • ■■ ► • *. . 'W ^ , ■' >?..■, :,vi 5 ;^V -' * 68 . lusion. y Harrison attended the Frencn. plays in London regularly. lot the least ot the advantages he enjoyed as a heritage irorn a travelled youth was an intimate acquaintance v/ith the test theatres oi* I’rance, (he had seen Rachel at her prime at the The^atre JFrancais) , Ger- many, and Italy. As one who had enjoyed and studied the roles of Rlstori and Salvini in Shakespeare and Al- fieri, he came to have opinions on tne interpretation of Shakespeare, and a very lov/ estimate generally of the state of the drama in England as compared with the contin- ent. A pet abomination was one Samuel Phelps, a popular Shakespearian actor of the *60* s, whose interpretations aroused in Harrison nothing but ’’weariness and disgust.” At last, roused to white heat by wnat seemed to him to be a particularly egregious Macbeth, Harrison found solace in print. After expatiating for several paragraphs on some of his stage aversions, he turns gently to Phelps. "The other day, deceived by the critics and a false friend, I went to see the famous Phelps. As Mr. Phelps (to speak plainly) seems to ne the type of a bad actor, I venture to give you the impression he left on me.” ^ After this candid statement of his purpose, Harrison gives a vehement characterization of Phelps’s ’’stilted elocution”, ’’resonant pomposity", and v;ooden gesture. Here he pauses for a courteous reminder. ”I have no sort of ill-will to Mr. Phelps. I doubt not he is, as he told the Stratford Com- mittee, the first Snake spear ean actor of our day. I have no doubt he is; eind an excellent husband and father." ^ 1. Autobiog. I - 339. 2. Ibid. I - 339. } '* ■ V i:.£*. *. ..,)H U 69 The cumulative effect of all this becomes overv/helming when he iterates the same motil' again witn biting irony. "I nave no sort of ill-feeling tov/ards him, except the gentle antipathy one has to a man who has caused one three hours of in- tense agony," 1 for the benefit of tnose who ho.ve not witnessed the stupidity and mannerism of Phelps, or heard his "regulation hov/1, gurgle, shout", and for the edifi- cation of a Phelps-less posterity, Harrison renders phonetically a specimen of the actor’s delivery. "‘Hear it not, DunCan: for it is a joiell That summons thee to heaven or to hell. ’ This passage is roared by Mr. Phelps in this strain — "ie-urrr eet naut, Duncan; furr eet ees ur knale Thet sam- (rumbling noises) -mauns thee tur haven o'errrr tur hale (gurgling)." 2 The essay closes with the recommendation that Parliament close the theatres so that the public v;ill be spared the critics’ blurbs and the actors’ rant. The writer anti- cipates the "little theatre" movement to some extent in his closing prediction that societies of amateurs, if well-rrianaged and experienced, could do much better. Har- rison signs himself appositely v/ith Prynne’s famous title, "Histriomastix . " It is Chiefly in the field or the pictorial and plastic arts that Harrison sets up as a critic. Here he passes aesthetic judgements based, as befits one always seeking tne nos it if . upon principles clearly conceived 1. Autobiog. 1-3? 9. 2. Ibid. 1-340 • Kl ., '’ V ■ '■• - - ■’- . fi|P'\iiO •• i.' ■ •V'-JJ V. X( H'!*!. '♦* fill. • 1 . ' » ■* V :r ' ' j ^ ' * 4 W * ^ ” 1 ’ 'V,- ,f'ia> 3 -»4 \t;>’ .■^'^S‘V«i^i.1^o%.■n>■^gl^ ,i :.>v^ --.'" ^ ■' ' ' 4 -., '■ - .> 1 ^ S' * •** ‘ * ' *‘ ^ S'. ' <‘'.-W ' -4i .•*•'' •' .R .■^^«t>> 'J'iAr V' - • ^ ■ ''rww #»' ■ ^44,'xiajJfM^^ ^ '■' •* ■'-1 t . 1 % , '■■ V, , f- '’rwww ■■ ™,.- r*. t-\, >' • ••• -i'' «' t •' ■»■■’- M'-' - r SS..f.rifet‘ 4 ; ■ - V,.- ^ V^'^P, ■' * V.'i .r^ Hi '^-'..r/i! y^'t. I M - ■ -^* ■: ■ »f ' ■ ■ ' ■ '. ■ . 4 - V ’ ». l.» I * \ . i lit v-» I"- : Ir ■ .; ^ ^ 4 ;t C--I;’ :;■• V-' *J*r 1^,4 •i.?o<;-j;« 0 ivVf? y - -»-'T..i.J. . ;*r :’ *1 i , •vv.> *’ ■*''■§ ' '''" '. * 4 v ' * kt 'Ii>c . . r ■ .: ■S‘^'..'i ifc'M i / > *>■• '"^41*' ^ •] n ' li > ‘ ' 4 ^ •' 7 "' : ' ^ ' V tl 'i . 7 > .t > ' j . 1 : ‘ 70 , and I’irmly adder ed to* Impressionism, a purely atmos- pheric rendering of the subject, whether in art or in criticism is, to one or Harrison’s clarity ol* mind, the lowest level to which creative work can sink. Beginning somewhat in the manner or the Platonic Socrates, Harrison poses the central, fundamental question, in an essay on "Picture Exhibitions." "I sometimes ask myself, a plain layman vjiio pre- sumes not to have an opinion in these difficult matters, v/hetner we reflect enough upon the limits, sphere, and subjects of painting, on the relations 'of painting to life, to thought, to religion; whether our painters are as clear as they Ought to be on these great antecedent problems: — Fhat can be painted, what ought to be the end of a picture, what, in great ages of art, did the artist regard as his business ana functiOnVi’. 1 In the same essay, from which i will quote at consideraole length, he answers the question of wnat are the proper conditions of art, and whau are the materials with which it may legitimately concern itself. "In all great epochs of art the painter Ifankly accepted certain great canons of religious, social, or artistic convention. He thoroughly felt his art to be the expression of the re- ligious, social, and intellectual movement of his time. He took it to be his business to give to that movement colour and form. His art was not at all self-suff icing and detached, it was simply one of the artistic modes of ex- pressing what was deepest and most commanding in the spiritual world. The painter was the ser- vant; the lYee, willing, creative servant, but the servant of tne priest, the thinker, the poet,. / and the statesman The painter has his own resources in vividness, in colour, in harmony, in suddenness and unity of his blov; on the imagination — it may be also in beauty. But of course he buys these 1. Memories and Thoughts, p. 525. 71 resources at the price that he cannot, ty the conditions of nis art, touch anything hut what ^ seen, that -he is rigorously limited to one moment of time, that he can- not possibJy impart anything; which is not-''- known, that he can 'never explain , never con- tinue a story , teil nothing which it r e-- — ciuires words to tell , and hy that .very in- strument' rle uses he is forbidden, except in partial and exceptional ways, to touch the loathsome, the horrible, and the spasm.odic . Modern art, in casting orf outv/orn conventions of pretty sweetness, of artificiality and inanity, — a necessary task, which it performed thoroughly — has swung into pure, exuberant iconoc].asm, and run the gamut of realism, from the trivis.l, odd, bizarre, and grotesque, to what is disgusting, vulgar, and nauseating. "A dirty old woman vacantly staring at a heap stones, a pig wallowing in fetid mud, a dusty high road between two blank walls, a sand-bank under a leaden sky — such are the chosen spectacles dear to rising genius." ^ As one of the interlocutors remarked ironically in one of Harrison's imaginary dialogues "The nev/ rule is — Paint Just what you see, but tauke care that it is what nobody sees but yourself, and what nobody could like if he did see it. The business of Art is to shake up your Philistines, your Bottles, and Mrs. Grundys out of their humdrum lives to teach them howr queer and how nasty the world can be, and often is." 3 In a suggestive essay on Rodin (1912), Harrison gives in sober, detailed resume, his estimate of modern 1. Memories and Thoughts, pp. 329-51. 2. Realities and Ideals, p. 296. 3. Memiories and Thoughts, p. 36 u. w- r/ 4 ^ 1^ # * • ._ m iV* •*-*, 7i» jd jt-tt^Sn • n nf, t^p^^'^'OppU 'AT ^■- ' •"■. V -f ‘ , '• ‘'".’Vp*’'^ '" * ’ • ■ • ‘ ' ' '■- •.- ; .. " " ;' 1 .'^i .w <■ r' ^ ^ '■ ,, V‘"1 j'n ; ’ ^ ll< ’■'i'5 &V -'V w ■;-r*‘ ^tfT’. c f ,’jO. 4 I •JC,i-.K^ ^ 4..$a^*4-^.;. -ri i^TTarWi.-^ >:^~ '.'•^. .‘J; ' ' I ■ » . .'•’^' ,w**: '■•'^ • T'^, jfiffiK , . „ /'^v, •■•#»’■ .1 . ^‘.' ‘\:aT«!A 4 ifi’^-'T l:^;;; ttj, 3 a.. TOi Ixev :- r ,- .'..-A c » .‘ ■ gt>6^- 1: >;M?‘ j A--»*'.’‘'-' • •; W. rtp&Qjl •- ^ ' 't. -Oy i5J|fi^ tu.-Uittr.-.MSM'm A-?'” "V . 1% My' tf.il.’ ::; ,.' -?XI*X - "V ;r;- . S ^ =iV ;■•■•'' a '■ t vf^Wjai . - , ‘ .V,*'.^ I«. ._. '. v’-" •' .j ‘ ' * ‘ ^ >v ‘TSL^Si' ^ .• »Hjt '.• •■' V •» M»^'--r ; ‘a-. 4 . ti %i ■i ;.. ^ ■ 'fSv i 3 % 9 1 ; J »>: * • i . , ^vv J «iw ^sErtSanM .*‘ Vi-: *.v*4» v4 A:.t44-i/iV \;--“il^*4 •■'O'' i>9j; ■ ' , ,. .■ ''M'. I •.^*, yi’jl! • ;>^ '’Mffls “■ .. . ‘ ■ T v,5^io' ^ w, V * . - .f% 4 4 - iftw?? ■ * . ■• . airAiiiT^lv;, « ^ s I , ( - ' / ' * . . • ■■ / ’. :*r-? I -i-] i /'.-.i • :^j. yi ?.■•* 72 , tendencies in art, and defines still niore scrupulously his view of the ultimate conditions of art. Kodin, as one who was not merely a great artist, the greatest artist perhaps, identified ¥/ith the newer theories, and who viTas in addition a distingu.ished writer, was best equipped to lead in the revolt from the artistic conven- tions which weigned so neavily on his generation. In L * Art Rodin repudiated the Academy and proclaimed the aesthetic principles of the new school. Harrison resumes the central doctrine which he proposes to criticise, thus; "In the first chapter of L* Art Rodin expounds the key of his system. He opens with true and forcible protests against all kinds of academic pose. He simply seizes a spontan- eous movemient which he sees in his model. He does not place him or dictate any set attitude He goes on to say that he does not reproduce the external surfei.ce of what he sees, but the inner s-pirit of what he imagines be- neath the surface, A cast will only give the outside form. Rodin moulds the underlying truth . 'I accentuate those lines which best express tne spiritual state whicn ^ am inter - •preting ." ^ That, says Harrison, is an exact descrliition of the car- icaturist . The artist is confined, so long as he observes the legitimate bounds of his art, to what the eye can see; not the vulgar eye, it is true, but the trained eye. Hor is his art a direct transcript from life, an attempt to rival photographic truth. It is his aim, or should be, to bring out the hignest significance of the expression, with - in the natural limits of humian vision. Harrison finds an 1. Among My Books, p. 329. ' l%‘ 'M 1*. '*■ . " ft..' XT . . * * ■ -v' .i r/' ■ ' ‘i ''^ i'k^BEwK . 1 .'d'-'' .. V ■ ' 'r V S iJk , *i -w vt iir^*i3t.- (I ' h F* XA i-.i. ■ „. , '~:v' : \-' 7 ,,f\' ' HmI ' • '*> ■- •* ' ^yT ’, , 0;«jr 3|(Kvo^ : >’ *• • .1 ! a.v5 ^li C ,10 t \ ' 1 •1V^ ^ 0;^ 3K^.-/. i ^1 (*»«&► 'X f y..f ,' y.li; ■ i\if 9 V«5^ , tr, . ' ■ ; ■ ',^ . %,. . tivfl *fihi t^. , 'it ■ '■ .'i«*i!. • ‘Vt' ' .uv’’ilii|t»i’X''' ia’iiA iifeiiiliibii ^ . -/• » "/O' 4' V Ifc . • i,.,*. ^J^'ftiBBiVOA jSilli^JI.^^ 'f,:.i|ii irr^ .,*, ,.» fcir: ot'dP- --' . *■ * - . ^‘^'‘ ff’lil / ■ .1 -''.fi'i?'.. /. . .' ■— ■■ ••I i‘' •1*'' ''®'S ' ' '■*' ■ <’ ' ''Ju** Hit's fi.^( i4y.i 30^1 X *v . y ^ i t rj T'f' JV " -""I ’ i j^ »g u. .. vj&i .. '"■t ' t% ' V* 'I . apt Illustration of this point in the Monna Lisa of Leonardo and Pater, V3. "ITo photograph of the living Monna Lisa would have given us all that Leonardo saw in that mystical and unf athoma,ble smile. But Leon- ardo did not paint what no eye ever saw or could have seen in the living Monna Lisa, in order to express his. ovm views of the lady's private character," ^ The Justification for the portrayal of physi- cally and moraJly decayed specimens of humanity, such as bawds, criminals, or idiots; the representation of every act, every conceivable situation, whether trivial, umentionable , abnorma,!, or bestial, — all in a spirit of coarse realism or broad satire, rests, of course, v/ith the new aestheticism whose thesis is, that there is no- thing visible which is not a fitting subject for artistic treatmient. "The most repulsive, unnatural, unirientionable act or sight, when represented v^ith striking truth, becomes, they say, a work of art, and according to Rodin, beautiful by its artistic power." Pausing to remiark that this is "an absurd sophism", Harrison continues "Every hour of every day, in every street, or house, or room, v\rith every man, woman, child, or animal, in every hospital, prison, mortuary, or battlefield, are infinite sights v;hich can- not be shown in art." 2 Like Browning's Caliban, the miodern apostle of the beautiful takes up nis position professionally 1. Ibid. p.330. 2. Amiong My Books, p. 335. O n, ^ r— fftUB ^ A Vi :. 4 ja jf'- ? v.vo-cir olf^ P V / ririt;. -■:. ";-i ’'■^^ vn- »>> ^ >i : j. w >^^ ' ' i • ■ ^ tf ®. viij^^M • vtfffwd i' *’ '■ ■ ; **■■» -.-*%nr ->■ -V^V ,« vrT^ Iff"' f*> n W-. * ,’ A' ' i; <# i • r, ^ /' ,' , ; 'i . > -»r- ■»!- ’ t;-'>^oof‘I> ■Y-^wi,'ids;» btei *' ? ■ '■■ •.:-^iiv.'‘ ■'• • iiwi -• ^iN-'- ■' .■•I't '■•«.» ' (« 3 ' *^ . ".'inM 1* 1 , V* %• -••a .1 Si-^- ■ ."O- . .f uo -.^'A' --Odv* f^ij:‘».^Mi| r T .^* 3 ^- 1 ^, ? Vi ^ k 1 - i d« !. - *■ • \i 'it *.*^- . ■ ;^'X' ' ^ :*?JE. ’1:^' ' ' . . 4 4' ■ <-'i' ^ < * • t -1 ■ ■ j f * ',V i^'Pi Kii J. ,. i„ft 'n«^4r-l -• I ■"' '*' ‘.'i 'V>3 i -t 4 }-^ *4 i ‘ffU* . uii • - 'It "' 4 >-' •«■*«>»> •^‘ 1 1 »’ • ■i'.l. ’• T'j-t'.- .>-i: a E 5 ‘ 'ft; Vi.-J r... ' ■■■;"-’■■ ^ '1^ ■(i ' ’-. .'”-4 i'l' .lvA V 4 fet’i*Jr It' ,n‘-. J.C- ■•t.;4|<^riv ,’r.'^o?i, h0 ,i%0 -*' '■■ V. *. ’., i «J ■', ■ ' __ ■, . ,yj^ 4 ' WTj^ m ¥u\ 74 "Flat on Ills belly in the pit's ranch mire, With elbov/s wide, fists clenched to prop his chin,'^ whence he may regard to test advantage the strange beauty to be found in the hospital and the universally intel- ligible trutns of the bordello. Whatever there is to be said for the representation of the ugly and repulsive in art, rests upon the assumption that the creative artist atterapts to set forth the object in its real character and significance. In much of the vi^ork of Rodin, and in all of the work of his disciples, Harrison found neither character nor significance. There was only the aching void of the complete absence of any informing spirit whatever. The "simple and true", "the old, eternal fact", the "sense of universal relation", "that nigher illumin- ation which teaches to convey a larger, sense by simpler symbols", — all these phrases, culled from Emerson's succinct essay on art^, express v/ith Doric simplicity the imponderable, spiritual element in great creative art, which is so lamentably absent in the work of the young pleinalrists, atmospherists, impressionists, Glearly the dominant spirit of our genera,tion is one of change, unrest, ungoverned expansion. In petulant irritation at the conventions of the nineteenth century, the younger generation has supposed that all convention is inimical to tneir art, and may be summarily disiilssed, ignoriiig a large truth which Frederic Harrison has com- pressed for them into very small space: "Convention is the prosody of art." 1. To be found conveniently in Essays and Poems of Emerson , S.P. Sherman, p. 261. I.Y. 1921, As free spirits, witii tiie technique of the lens and the caricaturist, and the stiirm dating theory that the proper subject of art is — everything, they range forth to scour the fetid back alleys of life, to bring forth from these cruelly neglected sources of inspiration what constitutes the real, the vital, the abiding realities of life. But they have failed to animate the v»fealth of materia.l gathered so diligently with any spiritual mes- sage, v/ith the glamour of any fleeting moment opportune- ly seized, or symbolically rendered. Their exaggeration merely sinks to morbidity, grotesquerie, banality, — lastly, lubricity, the "Cult of the Foul." The artistic school which has produced "The Old Strumpet", "Ugolino", "The Maniac", "The Rape in the Stone Age", "L'Esclave Blanche", "Le Repos du Module", aiid the "Turpe Senelis Amor", seems purposed to offer on the altar of Humanity the discovery that men are animals . €fi V .;j* ti^f ti: , id,4 j'5d ‘ < H-'- • '■ ■ V?yI- * '*? S J ^ a -iJr f^.irv".a'i!*> ^ii. i. ,^r ■^.Oi <»,«•.'' ,, ■fin.'fi '. • .<'x.\).iy ■■uw .jt ';4 ..»>v -tyi ,' , K';ii -»>v *yl ^7 ■ . ' ■ -‘1. i;- . ■’.4> » • * ’• v-iUV* •>)? A » • •*• ;V^' 48^ 'ii- • • ;o .■ . ,.y •; .. j . ’ f •^'* j^V. > >-] jf'i ■ - * *'■ -'j ' ■''' tlOT.MivitAX.: •> • . • '^,*v 'V.fi . ,x- .< .,,i»jU«a *1}X E^lyvj i **•’». C.> . # f " '.- * *-t- ■ ! ”• “'■’ i I Wf ' I® 1 « 11.^54. -^:iV ■ ^. ■' ■■'^•■* ■‘^ V^J 'f.'S i A- . * !■ ■ J :i „ ,, M, ^ i.. i; Jj'Vl \..*o' *•■' ‘Y«' . 76 IV The Positivist as Historian I. There is an ancient and fajniliar classil'icatlon of historians by v;hioh they may all, from Herodotus, Thu- cydides, and Caesar, to Bury, Gardiner, Froude, and Free- man, be deftly tabulated, and by which certain salient characteristics may be conveniently associated together, or sepai’ated. Like all rules of thumb, it makes no a,llo;vance for individual variation or idiosyncrasy. By it, historians are separated out according to their affiliation with the literary tradition of historical writing, or the scientific school, represented on either hand classically by Herodotus aiid Thucydides; in modern England by Froude and Freeman. This classification, if broad qualifications are introduced, furnishes an approach to Frederic Harrison as a historian. Harrison’s view of nistory is definitely phil- osophic, according to the positivist theory of Comte. He writes of "the great conception of Comte that human af- fairs, like physical facts, are ordered by law," — the implication that Comte first formulated the conception, being, we may note in passing, a high and entirely un- deserved compliment i The philosophic approach to history is not in- compatible v;lth either of the great historical schools, and indeed is not trustworthy as a basis for classifi- cation. In general, nowever, the literary historian o ^ •C^*^ '.H.jJvV.-^l ',v: »VL-5 ^|..i ;; ,o!/ ‘4f>*' ■ '*^1 ' ' iTSfflRlJ ^ A. « ^ i ♦■ * , « - ' ' -1 ■•.•'.,fj . ’ ' ■'•«*. r3 , ■>,,., '<0 >.v 1-j.t '.^''i*U SJfi -’^^iJ. . 1 * i. v>a H'iit 't0U,4» %r ■ 4^'tp;.3f^4|16[ ' ^ \".a fr- ■ .^’*•'^0 ■» r-Ux*'..? U r . ^ ' i*''^” '■■ '■ I V ■“ '* ' - ■ ' >v ,.^ .' X..' V» mv- C>*. V'-’”i .». . ^tr..-, - . i’ r\^ v:. t Rf '•,. r„ '^' %u 4 ' I ' -^ ' t.i „> •■ ,..' '3 ■ V ' .n' fel* ’ ''■'''L'^lMmyi ■ '■■' 4 ' ■ i|w^ 'S-. !$i£alx4 *£‘ i 'fe - r ' wft' . 4 -(..-< ??. viewB the whole of history as a drejna; the scientific historian, being fully engrossed v/ith his snail period, doesn't bother to view the whole of history at all. We nay v/ell apply Harrison's favorite word, synthetic, to his philosophy of history. "History means the whole series of the laws and phenomena traceable in the development of the human race, including the prehistoric, the uncivilized, and the oceanic v/orld, and including the history of science, of philoso- phy, of religion, of Industry, of manners, of economy, of mechanics, of art: in short, the history of society much more than the history of war or politics." How the tasic of the historian, as Harrison under- stood it, was "to present a broad and glowing picture of a past age in its true proportions. Meither artistic colour now microscopic accuracy suffice to do triis." Possibly v;ith the defects typified by J.A. Proude or Macaulay in mind, Harrison wrote "Brilliant and ingenious writing has been the bane of history; it has degra-ded its purpose, and perverted many of its uses." Again, "In search of an ef- fective subject for a telling picture, men have v/andered into strong and dismal haunts." instead of "a steady flame of enthusiasm for all great spirits", the literary historian usually Introduces into his work a fatal purpose , under whose domination he freiiuently tells a splendid narrative with moving passion, but becomes an eloq.uent advocate, whose special pleading 1. The Philosophy of Common Sense, p. 68. '?^%T T «iW \ mm, u.iJ,,V-C ^4 ^ ‘ 2 i-’ T, • • '"'■ ' ■ ■ ■ !&' ’e* - V ' ,‘‘ ' ■?- > ■ •■'■ ■, \- . “.•Sf *: ’ *Vi- t* J| ,' ^ i. I . . t ».■ ,-.*n»f -‘V’^-^ -.w »?vn ft: y*' *.- 5 ..i^ , -i;{-> Cvc' 4 r ,fl •' •*> • (.‘••' • ,.no m/jt'd* ' L. _j.’ . -li . . r. ■'kwL ■ .i. 3 “Vi*» .--.V r- ‘ ’ -v ,V ‘tin V * ^ . . . .r. sr rv ' L'% ^ ^ - I i P'i :d i : !-• ■ •• ^ ya " 6 ^lr, .vop^*^;> 7 rtUttnr-M- -'i* tii- ^ ■ -'“ ■ /5 V vi .• ” ' ^ \ J ‘ f>, V'T , ,9 r: V'* 'J 1 • . '’ 4 » -1 ftu* if i "?.' .'ilk ’* II-' tiO!l 3 / 4 '.» ' - ■'. • ' ■ ^ ''vy * : .vo^ ■ />^'. ’• ': ■ xt S - "/vv. > C '■■ i ..\ ' '« ; 4 i, ', . ■■ .... . ,..r:v.i- . _ . ';m. /:>: . ■ 'iV ''^.A,/K■,^ ,w- Ut^ifcXi I- >'■ w * *. .„*• C'Y’ y_ '- V ’’■ . ^ f,u Iv «•'•'•'. .s'""'' '"v. ; ;;,^;i^^',eA ;• <’.. >'■ •:,<® 1 v«w.. |fi yf» 4 sst Tk! 4 1 ; v< ■><‘>f>?< 1 lis® <•„ H:'; ' /■ ' A » . A'i . .. y '.^.;£i'.'X'J-’ .'^iiL.-.i,. ...i ,■ ■,-i..U •»$«'{“ .i ' Jl* • * '^,- *i -5 •f>l*, v>t>' 1^ vjmiU [m u ■ ,aoi: ■ ;i' # 1 * I- ^ 'V< i i..*i«’'l|; .^f ,l , v ; ’ A;*f»#W lU- yt', *'■ ' ?i'J0| '';.V-. '.W; J." ■ '■■ r44"fv: &m- . . . 'i *’ ^ x\i ■' ’ ' » , ,7 • ‘7 « t ; N t ■■ tf/'iat- :■ «‘.'»'&»y *v » ' H/. •‘^,vvJ‘ • ^ *7 r.'-'i?*^ * i.r f S;AS -j/i *v.' ,v.«av^ ': .. **t>iut. . .-A -■ afterM-H.',; w r^-t < * f,,V ,j kii t' '^y,.'o'W V . " ' 'il ' " ■ ■ -isnij :»^'i ■ V ; 79 the lire and movement or past ages, and perhaps In his insistence upon literary torra to a generation devoted to research, grossly neglecting historical writing as a species ol‘ artistic prose composition. Despite his admiration or the virtues or the literary historian, Harrison saw too inany i'aults in him rar too clearly to embrace Tully the traditions of his school. ]frcim the scientific historian he Yiras divided however, no less, by his sjTTipathy, and his breadth of philosophic outlook. Such a spirit as his suffered some crtimping and narrowing when confined within the limits which characterize its scholarship, as Harrison saw it; strict and undiscriminating adherence to original auth- orities, intense specialization, within narrov/ limits. As for the usefulness of facts as such, — "Pacts are infinite, and it is not the millionth part of them that is worth kno'wing." Then comes one of those energetic outbursts viThich mark less the maruier or the style than the quality of the man himself. "What some people call the pure love of truth often means only a pure love of intellectual fussiness." The verve of this remiark is typical of Harrison in his critical mood; its vigour an invaluable adjunct to one whose chief business it was for the span of two generations to address adri'ioniti ons to his contemporaries. This pure love of truth or of intellectual fuss- iness sends the scientific historian plunging dovrn into I ^ I I ' 'i« '■' 1 ^ ■'. ? r’STJs . •« i r»n-v, r t"«' •■’>'’/■ • • > . ''i' 4 * '< f^' ;;V-^£- '•feV'ltyiifciir v-S*, , . ^.iw,|E'^>«ju*.i.»-^ te.'*- ' •:* ■'■ T. . . •M ,- i V o ». ■ I ■¥4ivf r-il • 1 , * 1 r ’* jj|, • . J. 'ii.ik -Tfl^r ie b'. !\ .'•#'! . ^ r . ■■ ' .^j— ^ "lOi 4 rr;^»',' «v- - 1 * 40 'I ; ^ lb' »-■ 4 • •^^ > :> <^1 k; ■ ; . '^ 'J‘ r "*C* f-U a - «- ¥ ': l r i> ..i*i *». ’i™ ! ^ V .T- V-: 7 „ . •;. t-5«»< U. ^ T^ . ■■ ■.- ^:fW . ■m 80 "the great graveyard of the past", says Harrison, with- out plan, purpose, or "breadth of view, to exhume the dessieated remains of dead ages, re-enhalming them with the labour of a life-time, into an infinite nuiriher of tomes full of accurate, worthless knov/ledge. "Lives are spent in raking up old letters to sho'w why or some parasite like Sir. T. Overhury was murdered, or to unravel some plot about a maid of honour, or a diamond necklace, or some cons^^iracy to turn out a , minister or to detect some court impostor . " When we revievi; the pitfalls of narrov/ness ard. perversion of fact which oeset the literary histori&m, and the intellectual fussiness which obscures any broad view of his subject for the scientific historian, as Harrisoii exposes them, it is clear that he is closely affiliated with neither. He proceeds independently to a view of history as a branch of social philosophy — the chief recourse of the inquirer in all political, soda]., all human questions whatever; as showing the tendencies 0. f our society and civilization, as being guide and lamp for consistent, rational action. II . At the sarae time he voiced his youthful indig- nation ’With Macaulay who, he wrote "probes the heart and motives of men ... from the love of scandal, not from a sense of sympathy", Harrison gave an elaborate, compre- hensive statemeiit of wvhat the historian should try to accomplish; 1. The Meanin>^ of History, u. 9. 4 ‘ . ,r^*' ' '^r ■; 4 , *- ' ’ , • W/ '<91 ^ ' V * . ‘if ' <»w « » ' iVi >T &'•■.■''•' ‘■f;?-'-^ “ -"^'4 .•_-v-V;'*'''.**‘‘.v«-^ ■■■' O' ’ t' ■‘•f/'H » *iAV.^, Si .V ', ' ‘ '‘■•f'j ' «: ■ '; *. - ■* ■ ■•» ,r T;h' ' ijFW « ■ • v« y t ‘ ^ , , . . - rr.tl*ii r- < ' X 4 ft\ > *. • i^m L> ■ ,»* * vrt ' - yTi * . .'■^'SIE -'.H ^ ^ ' V''i ■ * * ■ i -■» ,^' - O’ V ’ 1 , •; r .'.*,■ 'i H'^ ^?a;i -^ft: * j yj'*f, :^>«i<- ;t|' ’ ‘ •• ^Hvt \(\ " ‘ * .. - ,X ^'":;.fVl ,i^‘-' ^■:---V^}i& .... ^ iWi \‘ 'V ■ • 0 I ‘ ir>x- kfeA : i -al'I ■ ' m\ . 'V.v^y s { . ■ ' ,-‘*' r\ hu'Lh Am i v,„^.. < - \ A '' ■ ■ IK * <» < ! V .1,1111 ! . ■ . ,i •;■({ • »«,(ff"^ ■*l ■ «, 1 ■ ' ^ •-USS^” ^ ■' ,T i< • ' 4 i! ^ • ita'i'i Sfrfli V%/^«UIAIII ,.i . ,v ,.,'A^ ._, ? fi, . K4^£|i^i0R,V' ,' 7,WWk . JtKPSi trS VA ’‘J t i L‘ i'>:V' A > u%^& “ X , ^ V.tt » 'v.... ‘... '-.Av 81 "The first duty of a historian is to bring up before us the great acts and feelings v/hich spring most deeply from the national life what led to them and what 'they lead up to; the second duty is to reanimate the spirits who clung most closely for good or bad round the central movement or its opposing forces — yet always so as to dwell upon their greatness or their meanness with serious care, as of men vfnose good *ws need now^and 'whose evil is still resting darkly on us." This touches closely upon Harrison’s theory of history. By reanimating the spirits of past generations, identi- fied with the great conflicting forces of the time, the historian brings to his own generation a profound sense of the continuity of time and of human experience; of the dignity and aspiration of marikind; most importantly of the lesson which the Past holds for the Present and the future. In the positive philosophy, history is more than a story, a pageaiit, or a drama. It takes on all the moral attributes of a Scripture lesson. It is indeed the Human Bible, v/ith marked correspondences to the Holy Writ. It has its genesis, according to the doc- trine of evolution, ius saints and prophets, its im- mortality, the acts of its own apostles recorded in its pages — all designed, as the Bible, to guide, instruct, inspire, and elevate posterity. In his historical writings Harrison has demon- strated the same q.ualities of mind which distinguish his literary criticism; generous sympathy ivith widely dif- ferent types of culture aiid character, a judicial sanity in weighing achievement, or separating the gold from the 1. Autobiographic Memoirs. I - p. 167. Printed in italics. Vfl 82 dross, and a peculiar, cliaracteristic faculty for the keen appreciation of the value to our culture of a new view of men or movements formerly grasped Imperfectly, or the elaboration of soriie phase of history but faintly glimpsed. The one single "period" to v/hich Harrison devoted himself more than any other, that of the Byzantiiie Um- pire, illustrated his characteristic point of view in these matters. In the Rede Lecture, which he delivered at Cambridge in 1900, Harrison cited the Eastern Empire as striking witness to the essential unity of history. "There is no reason to doubt tnat Byzantium has been a historic city for some 2560 years; during tne whole of tnat period, v/ith no real creak in her life, it nas been the scene of events recorded ill the annals of mankind; it has been fought for and held by men famous ih world history, it has played a substantive part in the drama of civilization. Son singular a' seg,uence of historic interest can ha,rdly be claimed for ahyj_city in Europe, except for Rome herself," Correcting the unders tandlng of the general public, and joining battle v/ith prejudice, bigotry, and rhetoric, have furnished Harrison with a life long oc- cupation. Tne inadequately recognized history of the Roman Empire on the Bosphorus formed a great lacuna in our historical literature which Harrison laboured eirdently and tirelessly to fill. By his Rede Lecture, numerous articles and reviews, a tragedy improvised upon Byzantine 1, The Meaning of History, p. 309-10. i..,: ; «’Aw -i-U SivvViVOi ',|j> i, , f. .':'.•“■ » , 1 * 1 , . w. * i, ,fll.. .*i - . / *♦ ' ^ -i.ri. ^,4 ' r-x^*j£: fc-f=*v‘W#*- ■■ tf-y rti fcHt'-. Ill >9«if B*.. .t«si*'< •Vi^«J'. • 'u’.'CJ'n. .■•■;: jrae's i.f ■ ::ry'-'^' if ’ A*^* ■ \v,. /■-'.. 4 jlt' i'-rai' **'■.■'■' f ' .,,;”c^.'<^'''< ’.; pir^ -!;;v FT ".' I.'v ■’ 1 'i ' “E CO' .’* . '.' ^1 ^ *'' J i'"* r Jffij '**' "'' '' ** ’■ --i' - (jLi\ ' ‘"-r.' .. ■ '■ - ■ \fi.n • A tt<,L’\l' *■. I ,.- ■' y vs n;<‘' 44 .. ^ . m 'it' i I r ^ 1 ■•■, l ■ ■ . • • -••'f - - * * 3 T il? / * » • * • ■ 4 v ft/*- ’ *' ' ' ‘ ^ ^ ■•■ *•’ v'' • I ^ ||ji^>' .TO -Vri;r**. r*,v< ■'®..',,l ^ I'ni H< 'il C < ■ . ' V-! "‘ i.'i M.. -min- '•■W|' .:t. ;i '#■./, 4 :nA(» v-naS '♦'•jitZ*/ r, a t- V I » tt> I I T .,',1 Vv-« , '‘i^ W 'J « • V- ‘'i(>i^i k' ■ V>C|l>t: ^ ' ^ • ' Vi ■ •' fk ,v '9:. ( > \^'VI i- • •'- "jj/ ••I. /. \,- 'i' ■ifsth kOJ.. '• ■. ■ ^ ' .^!jN| f’ L*; if f , • ^itJ . > ■ ' ' 1 * ji,t ,-. k ■'* ">'y, V «'.V »«•; I * ..-t.;' , '*a* v*'>2 ‘. • . / I •- ”' Afi-’i J5!.f A ' >":. ’; ^ *p> * • ‘ i' i 'O' A ' AO' IS,/ " ijL;i * \ M..--. Vv^i^j r-iSjj mT ,*' :■; A.fy-v i., , 1 1 , ,^.Vit.-| ‘/'': .»n' .V 'i ! 84 Thus ends Theophano's life story by a blighting stroke of dramatic irony. It is a crowded canvass, Harrison spreads, con- taining many episodes, lively axid picturesque descriptions of the great medieval cities, Byzantium, Rome, Cordova under the Abassids, painted with the insight of the ex- perienced historian. The qualixy of the action is melo- dremiatic, the style not always free ifom excess, but described by John Morley as "direct, pov/erful, plain, with none of our latter day nonsense of mincing and posturing." In its larger aspects the book presents romantically, but soundly, the political and social force of tenth century Eastern monasticism, aiid the clash of Eastern and Western civilization, as the crest of the advancing 'wave of Mohammedanism beat upoii the Bosphorus. Harrison wrote three short biographies, excellent manuals for the student and general reader, in which he speeiks v/ith an authoritative yet virell-modulated voice on Cromwell, Chatham, axid V/illiam the Silent. Certain attributes are emphasized in more than a casual manner. They bind the trio of great n&ines, eo far apart in the sphere of their action, into something like a unity of spirit, and give some notion of what the positivist his- torian admires in his heroes. it is a fundtunental trait of the positivist mind, as of tne positivist px.ilosophy, to be eminently concerned with practical results, v/ith the immediate end, leaving to' tne metaphysiciaxis theologians and profession- /'V ;' r ’"I! .nva‘'^^!T Y ’-'^/ amiiTiniEU. • t »< * .. Ar |(C * 1, -i4i ri- ', . ,. ?' W 'v^ V , " i ' ■ .i'- /*"!:■ '■ '_’i3V' ^ ' -■’“Si'' '' ■■ t..i._ V-' ri^ ' Tfci* . ■ ', "S' ■ .' '• Wi -lu /y* 1 4> / •^'<' ‘ ^ . V- . » ' , m,X -,*y. i^. -t^ 'e ■, Mm _■" / ' - ^flSi :...'■ <' ■■ ' 'A . MJ ^‘• •- .j. V* i4* ■V.‘/f . , ... '■ r "' ■■' ■ n . ' ■" • ^M‘ '• ii•'^i^®:.' uT?r*n|^;,i' •)ra.: m: } ’ 7ii^ I .' .‘r* .v,./f . .. : ■•’*•* ■i*TJN*iS47 ■< ■ ‘^'1 ■■■ ■IW' . *'■ .•;>» • • • i •.t^4>4Co/» ,inmK va'-TAh- *^V. j: V;,-. ■'■ ': *C ^ ■^'^• l.r ■■ .\,v,, ,,.. H,'k .noii-s^.’i w ' ■ • f ■ >'!' '<-ju|| ifjv:.-,. gro^Kjf .• * ' . j* • 1 ' .\ jyBiX-; '. '. » n ) .' • Afl I E ij ■ - .f 4rT^I«ii“a' ■.' 1 tumJ |If .' : -. ’« ‘ •># . -. . ■ ■•• ■' \ V •-'v'' •{» I'V iiiU'v ^r; tf.JL:''(: : J '4* * M I ■i*./' 1 . ^ \ h^’VL- 1 ^ >a^rM$ JCrO r. . ft ' .M '>.■41 yi 85 al idealists, whatever tlieir tag, to carry on tiieir brisk trade in abstractions. The great ciuality, then, which Harrison saw as uniting Gromv/ell, Chatham, a^id William, which made them so effective in action, was their onDortiinism . It is the keeping the eye on the object, "the sublime common sense" of Cromwell, the active vital principle of faith in Chatham, the "v/ari- ness and patience" and prudence of William, which Harrison celebrates, ^fhen he speaks of opportunism he means some- thing different and higher than what is connoted by the word in common usage. He means courage, prudence, tact, vigor, diplomacy, the willingness to compromise when coTiipromise promises to achieve eventual success. I understand him to mean by opportunism all the practical virtues, exercised, like Matthev/ Arnold’s dogruatism, on the rifjrnt side. Harrison’s attitude toward Cromwell lies some- where between the disparagement o^‘ the traditional view, and that of Carlyle and Theodore Roosevelt. Harrison admires him less as a "strong man", sufficient unto himself, and a law unto himself, than as the representa- tive, in the long triangular duel between the king, Par- liament, and the army, of liberty of conscience, Har- rison’s antagonism tov;ard all sectarianism flares out in his arraignraent of Puritanism. The "morbid fanaticism" of the Ironsides he laid to the hot Hebraism vfnich they imbibed from their Old Testaments. The cruelty of the I : ■ ’rv f '►' ■'^^*^*''*"^' '■'■‘t-f** = i'lL **iu.*t^ , C-r* ,Uj^*,-'i'«iCr . ; > *> ftoare^. -k_ ini.^i kji . .>> i ^ .'. '. . . .ii ■ T‘- ' ; 'Vi 1. c ':-x.' X •4i..‘ .AVJ ?} ..‘ j r •, »'tl?'**li- '><»{*! i‘*t'j ' «i(»ew''': ‘i,M,-i iv. i ttv< , .' • • •■■ ' ' •■'■' :r->.%^. >ii^ '^V^k’ ■ '^J^l , ■ . >*J5 »?X;r-v. . Vt' ; ^^/OSSfc-V 'K‘ ■ i- •■ * ' . ■ 0.5, v>" Ajyjtr;^’ ; W..|v: ,:A.^i :■ .«4 ■ /.. , ij. .; ‘Xl’ ' ’»1 ' ItH ■ ' /H. O' T' ' -. ' ' ■ '^ ,\':'v' "iT^''* ; t«»x - ^1 ■ ' i fv , . . ■ /f , W ' :-i ,•'• i. . „. , I ■■■ ; ' > 'i ’V'' Wi'fj ft>; If .-*j i'gi ■ j -^ifu: V', ^;i^>ijt,j^:;ji. ' ‘ ■' '“ ' ' ..■V. ••i-!' ■; : \. \.y : “ v.- A; .f . .2 :•■• • ■•• H f * r*»lf-’ •. *1 i.^ ' • " 'ivi^' „ , ' • f '- TA- t *or V tsfu^V i ' f i i ‘t’' T I, • .%> i i^j[ fc- ‘'V^ -;^j- -■ .•Hv.i,ii. C:,; ' ■•^A :TNyr.,X :V.^^ IS n\fOT i ji. * ‘:w'';v ' . * * ' ' '♦» ,- ‘ ‘‘N(< (A i 'ViJv'll? 1. '« V .rtu'.,‘i . . . • '.' = -'A v/'iifm. .'/ ff 4 M>fi -ijttt ,^iy ji^i ,^. J I "* ' <^i* ’<•* il . ri , * .* ' - »’ *0 ' 4 . n.tiij; • *? !»'0 ^ , i;i ^ r^V IM .■.,/} ;-T,'t:*s» ifO« f /t'f ^: t’ if.JfT* II i ' ■■ '/ Ml! •■Vvl’7 ^ ^ ' 1**^' A* ; V ; -r if,v>. ft 'iflyj*; "m ■ i? , 0 r^ ., - , Gt' >; jf. *\i^()Jjf.iod' -» *, ^j V'. ,. ,’; *.-. . •• ■ t. ■ •♦wising ,.;.j:tjjp;j:i ^ . .' .IM'. 'i‘-'. *. 87 The United Kingdom which Cromwell founded, Lord Chatham expanded into an empire. The navy Crom- ’well started, Chatham made the world's greatest sea- pov;er. Chatham advanced his imperial ideas hy schemes which sometimes demonstrated not only consummate state- craft but a complete absence of scruples; nor does Harrison gloss the fact. But, as he points out that "the morality of such a national policy cannot nov/ be defended or excused." he points out generously that Chatham is to be judged by the stcindards of his own day, since "the stcuidards of the eighteenth century were not those of the tv;entieth century". (Written in 1905). There is no more attractive figure in the history of the struggle for liberty of conscience than that of V/illiaiTi the Silent, whose stormy, but heroic life v;as founded upon a "noble error", one which he shared with Harrison and his positivist associates, — a "serene vision of spiritual fellowship in humanity — a vision which was opened to him alone amongst the men of thought and the men of action in his age — blinded him, more than a statesman should be blinded, to the madness and theol- •) ogical bigotries in the midst of which his work was cast." In r eligion and in diplomacy ?/illiam exhibited the fundamental virtues of opportunism. The political philosophy of the day was represented by Machiavelli ' s "Prince". Except in his intense patriotism, and his hatred of religious fanaticism, intolerance and bigotry, 1. William the Silent. London. 1905. p.236. nfi’T' TJ' ’ ■ -^ I ; - . ’ •' ita-‘ »4* ‘ ..9E ' • ’’’ . » •’»>•: i-# • ' „ Si ■■ >* ^‘ ■ ' ■?>' ^^»vr.>rrvi . >;/.Ss35'r^^ *%kI b';.'.‘i! r’i.i /i ;>l'(|,'\|^R , *' i ' ‘ t '^4 • ,; . , '■'il '•'iji'i^ -& y .';*w J 1 tj»-- *. ,i' . u'.. •4 ‘ ^ ■ .-r.. - '*■ • ' - .w • -r ■ n I -ft. - ^X, jj i4i% ,4 ^3 . . . , i* -» -•■ JRJAI -, ** -o <^5".‘ wX-' ■ ■ #•'’*!? ■i r . ’"■/ ffc; '•'■'J > ' "■ '•' ''ff™ ''" ‘"'■" i^'^'- >; •' ■" . ■ ..V'j:*- ■'''■•'’■.*'7^ ‘r.v - >•’.• . .V- :V‘ '• ^ ■! ■ "I .. ♦ • j..' . V J# ;V.v. . k)'rV v^au^n^,' - ‘■V®" ■/...■'^•i-rf . ‘MJUii »-i'f .'(it,'«p».:.,.(/i l*> . . ^ ^ ' . ' * t 'i , j» ^ ; '■ ’ ■■'■ ■■ ,, ' *' ''^"* ' :■ I r.A (ti -^wl^ ■ V-'; 4. ■?;•. -i '---.,. . % lifMX 'iri. <‘j r'- \i was a man of his age. Yet his battle v/ith Spain for the independence of the Netherlands, according to Harrison’s estimate, cast a wide influence, "It directly inspired the Revolution in England of the seventeenth century, as also that of America of the eighteenth century; and, hy its intellectual in- fluences, it indirectly contributed to the Revolution in f ranee." ^ ' The final Judgement passed hy Harrison on Cromwell, Chatham and William the Silent Illustrated the breadth of his historical.-horizon. They answer for their acts, not according to a refined code of personal morality, nor to tne idealism of the Sermon on the Mount, but "at the bar of humanity and civilization." It is after a careful, informed, estimate of the residuum of good they left behind them, that Harrison ventures to call crom- 'well, Ohatham, and V/illiam the Silent great opportunists. 1. ?/illiam the Silent, p. 239. / ' ■' '■■ ' 5 ^ I >!.■ ■ ' - r,t A . '■> «- JlT* ‘ > I *»'• U. , •. ^ w i ^ 4 1 4.-4 - ."jrS ^ .8K ^* 4 fc ,a , 1 , . V I .. -, • "“’'t ^ 41 ’* , '_. , .v-.Mii 4^V^te-rv ■■■- -, ‘^0 /r„., -■ ■ '> ■-'•• . ! • 4 '/’'^ 3 V^j •'“ - • . ^ - y :•/ » ; -^ 1 ^ :^ti ' , r# ^v■. . ; ., , S .**' I. #&.. , t V 1 ■ S * *. 1 / ,t ■* T» ^ 1 ' Ji^i 1 • l*(^“‘X'».lI .< Qw* t J W, - ' -I •> r 0^ -V.' li-KTTvV*'--' /• 1 it! , _ •- ,X. /. ’ ^ - - '' /■ ' J ,«;i *1 Xft«iV-ff,v. :»|-i-,V c, ^ i. ■ ‘ S.;~ <>? «? fr.V A'f, V'> V "li 'O''/ •IL V. ' '» a- . 1 ^ 'I * ' , ■' , ■ -Iv A » s ■'■ •' . / II- ■s'.v r mss s • ■• .', 3 % ^ j^‘;Kii^.»: :■ ^ yps >-, 1 ^ > .f .''v, ■'.■^'%'M A' . .A'„- ; ?,. l*h wW^": V The Literary Criticism oi‘ i^Tederic Harrison . I. The tvj-entieth century has produced few enough c ritics with either the inclination or the hardihood to interpret to us, or to defend the gen- eration which we have supplanted. Among their modest number, Frederic Harrison occupied a position almost unique, by virtue of his vast reading and scholar snip, his critical integrity, and his patriarchal age. He v/as reared upon the early Victorians, a contemporary of tne middle Victorians, and flourished as an elderly gentleman v/ho contuanded respectful e.ttentioii, when the late Victorians v»:ere in flower. Harrison was, indeed, the last of the Victorians. Living for more than tv/o decades into the tv/entieth cen- tury, he alone of his contemporaries, with the exception of John Morley, lived to be an effective force in the twentieth century, to which he was attached, it might be said, purely in an advisory capacity. In his own generation he knew Ruskln, Tennyson, George Eliot, Browning, Spencer, Meredith, Trollope, the great Ameri- can literary pilgrims, Lowell, Motley, and Emerson; Huxley, Arnold, Froude, Symonds, Leslie Stephen, Walter Bagehot, Garlyle, Morris, and John Stuart Mill. As a prominent publicist, critic, and the acknowledged leader of a religious and social prograJt, w 'W'. •i '■• ' ^ .. ''/.I' ■ r^ I >• 'if ' ■■ ■:.!', K.&: ;-y >: riM •*»..- .-i] j , T. «C * T j j ./•' • ' ■*• "" ■ Ki- ■,. n- .f- r , ^v ^ ,.jir . t^iVuTtsxa - n V,' ' . ^5 V? ‘ ■ T >* < ,1 JUA> i i'> I f^VV] VVu^r.^ 4 ^ ■• ‘k-!'. ^ « «♦" '- 4 : ',"1 ....... v%t^.tc ...... :v u,. [j ' ' J'* rwl^' Mi: *1311 ’ • ^ .r . ^ ■- • - .'vv.^v^ . .lit .il^, '. v(> ' • ■ I oavj. itf.-- » *jq»^ aOtt! \ 0 .- V •n‘‘' t ■■.r ' .'. • ' *• I."." /' I *i0fir4- SXiy r. “ t.V ;; ^ .1 S ->-.V.Tf ■ ’ ' ‘> ' _ I ’;v . - isn (VI !i* ? * t.i it' '•4 Tir‘ !• «,■' r* >■■* fy? y i -J t ' ■- r OJ t%’f!Wfc'-": '&' cul “ * ' ’ ♦ '' ' •'' '' ■ ’.. "jif'j ■ii ' '" 90 . Harrison obse^rved intiiuately tne political and intel- lectual lire of nineteenth centurjA Englerxa. As a scholar he studied its literature. To the twentieth century he remained in lonely eminence, the unique, revered survivor of a past age. However, it is not as a souvenir, but as a critic of literature, that I present him. If we are to a ccept his own testimony, Harrison was neither a critic nor man of letters. He was a Positivist. "I no more pretend to be a man of letters than I pretend to be a politician", he wrote. And again, "I heve always felt myself more or less of an amateur. i'Tor do I remember to have wasted an hour in thinJcing about style, or about conditions of literary success." Indeed, he was "quite indifferent to literary form". Let us not take such ingenuous disavowals too seriously, while remembering the fundamental truth that his me^Jor interest did lie in other directions. To teach, to moralize, xo reform — in the best sense of the word, if any good sense does remain — to urge upon his contemp- oraries opinions they were ever somewhat reluctant to emorace — the teaching, moralizing, reforming an oeing rrantcly posixivlstlc ana Comxian, was in truxh Har- rison's vocation. Withal he was xhe most literacy of the positivists, as he was certainly the most positivis- tic or men of lexters. An important qualification of a great literary critic is that he make* tew mistakes. It is the one on which the admirer of Harrison would like to dwell V u I y; i>ia t ■-' '^ it <%Ji^ !>' ♦y' tm, ; 44 ^ 4 iHl i:i s*;: , . r ! A t;, „4 r 7 vSiM® JSNTi.'iV-*.^- 1.’ ■ ;. ■"cM,i^V^S»irF.,..iri\V v: f'-- 7 Vr! VJ '* '• 'i\‘‘' *‘ * : i- »- * . «■. * t ' f' »• y V , 4 * ‘>v> :w»tv.yi|? > .t I *1 Jl"'* 5 ii-li \ r. IT. / •: , J-, . J • t i ' K' fi ...... . uy:^,jz /,.,.. A ■;i vs r> ^'. ■’. ^ 'v • . „w „^^ . ..yM. . ‘"W' i ^ * ’ I,' ’ ■ ' , ' ■ I j-f ” ••Vv ' ‘ ■* " ' ' M I- * • T ■ .*>*• 4 ?, ■ . ■• • ■ f ' , r '■•*!»■-■, I . ^ 04>i ^tfR'^.*2 4vjU • . , ,v ,jf.l!5-aj- n*. ‘ dll;*:; ; ft * a yru \i- »H'*i v' f . i ;i . i,i&twK V,.*.. ^ A t<^^: 4 _ U-I^^ o.a _ ,.-- -- ■; at > V'i>i 'il'iV: ■»- «.r ,j' :lf'« ' 1 .^K: <: ,;. .„„ -.f ., _ t/ip,J)'(»tfji. ,.J f f ' t yi#* . . ' ■ '. , ’ ,U ^^Xilteoa^. ' 4 ^ J'i, «?:•' ^»'a '. af£^''. ■ ; •'/ «[ f ", ' ■ *'; 'V-iw ‘ ' ; . t .. . • ‘ r ' ' - . ' - • - I - 44 ‘/£ J fifur* M a. ^v* ! J , j' tim V'', .^v . '£■' V/*^Xt‘l';:®' -'■^. ., . Q '.WJ 5 .- ,%*i ^ !W:. V, 91 longest, and iTiOst glowingly. He nas something of the genius for form and tone with which he credits Arnold, catholic sympathies, and a rare oalance and sanity of mind which make for correctness in his literary judge- ments. He reviewed the wnole of tne work of his poet, or novelist, or essayist, applied nis own clearly con- ceived critical "touenstones" , and responding sensitive- ly to t he weight of the test critical opinion behind him, he placed his man, easily, gracefully, lucidly. II. One is reruinded in this connection of the melancholy fact tnat it is hard to be botn original — and right. The union of correctness and original force, if not well nigh impossible, is, at least, extremely dissoluble. In the mind of Harrison they were never united. For xhe purpose of illustr acting the point, it mety be well to set the distinctive qualities of mind of the original, creative critic, over against those of the right-minded, or scholarly critic. The original man is audacious. He is a trail- breaker, and a pioneer. He v/elcomes, and often insti- tutes innovations. As a literary critic, he is temper- Eonentally inclined to the belief that there are still ini'inlte possibilities for tne develoiEent of new form and expression in literature. He believes that the ex- perience Of his own generation is unique, tnat it nas a unique message for numanity, and that the m»odes of ex- pression of tne past must be expanded or discarded al- f * 'Ti .,j ,,'itsj.i-iA tai 't . ^v^ y'iKcifc'j'Sl* «ht5t ■N * ;. • '. v; ' ■ ^' y ■ * . - t ^ 153^* '•*.■*■ ' ■ ‘’'ioB *4 -'V-Ui ■ v^JP- '7 V'' w^- •♦n ^ ** ''4 *;o J.>r '1 ? '■^..' w«- >iX k^biTs ,X . r>,* : o ■ . y 'i " "%oc '■yi- '■ ,i 7^^ .”. Tiu liij,, .■-> :^’.^c^itt; tl® trl I ' ' <4UH 1^.' Lv»i.‘.‘5 .-la '*^: vt^v .’ '■ yf "“ »?i, t *’ ‘W I tM . i 4 j> '*• * II • ' • *' i-> -'iji. ''£A " ■-' 'i, • '■■’ 1 . -• \M t u .> i i ,‘ u.’ I Jf ’ '* ■ ''‘5-4.; ■ .jBt ^ ' ' ’ '■ . . '■ T>'r.la !' A^cr-s .*ti.,r ‘V 4 ./J ^ B, tv-- ^ -j; - - •. •. md ** *' ' ' '*• -^ '5 i’ ■ 'i{)' ~i' . '^' •' r , ' '*'U ' • ' ' ’’'^ ■■'•i-""''’ •fe^'^^'*''''*V'**' 'V ir'^‘. i ,,■‘''7^70#^ ■■'^£1 .y„ *■ --c tf.i-iS Ji' .>■■■. ^^nwriT^n ilvi I „i I w I JrK' •Ml 93 togetner in face or rhe new needs. Sued a critic v;lli looic witn interest and sympatiiy upon most to ms of experimentation; he will cultivate and contrlDute importantly to the nurture of tne current crop of "young Intellectuals". He is violent in his aversions, most of which centre upon certain literary traditions which he thinks are outworn and pernicious in their influence. His sympEitnies are alv/ays distinguished by their intensity ratner tnan tneir breadtn. Within their limits, he is occasionally capable of .swift, in- tuitive flashes v/hlch scorii the snail’s pace of logic, and arrive unerringly at truths hitherto unsuspected. Outside the range of his own peculiar sympeithies, he is also capable of being grossly unjust, and of falling into appalling absurdities in his literary estimates. In sum, he will be something of a creative artist, working in the medium of crltlclsiri, a discoverer of nev; voices, a revealer of nev! beauty, a critic producing v/ork of uneven texture, — a distinguished, but not irfimortal servant of his own age. The critic notable for his uniform co preset ness is of the scholarly, or synthetic miiid. ’vYith the same catholic, expajisive gesture of the original critic, but Y/ith a cool, balanced, comprehending mind, he examines the grist from all mills v/ith the saDie detached placidity By temperament he shuns and anathemizes all that is im- pressionistic and subjective. He is Justi and even amiable in his dicta, but communicates iio Parnassian fe> ffi'^ V7A0.1 "ik% ■ %'H-^. i.ai^ Uu. t». Mk- ' t0i^ %* * V & ^' '♦ ■ wSM' ! • ft Si*' itcti: it ju-f'vA^: '^fi " ^ m V •• .' .- V A ' '*i{ • fWv: 1 .V ■' 'i^' ‘ -ut' vltj iPv • c W*'’'’ tj KW^-LM' -; . . '^'-l ■. 39 1 ii (■■ •>^*’ ^ f • ' uV* • ^ ■ ' - V ’ . » ■' I ' '** ^ M V. U'. (T • *^‘ Jau4 ’- <'■"*/ ,; ‘1 v>, t:,^' f|f [ Til- S I q' A 0 , ■ ' ' A ■ ■'«• ■ T ^ ■ i:r ;»ijw-^'t.I V 1. ■’ *i, ' * 1 .-' ■ >h >i£*T.r*jf , ;i‘ > .' ti.i> *T^' < k ■. ‘ ’^'<1 . ■’^:!f ' , -'i I t ■ ■ ■ ■ . u.-,.r. . '-. • ",,. '„ (kdiiiM art . fc. .f' ’*'■ ■■ * ■' ''''"■ '" -" ‘ ■/#_.. ■I'.; 4 i‘, ■ •' ^ t ■K ‘i- 'ji '"■ '^' '^T" m f ■••'■« _< :> w h^ ^■Ja. ' -i, 93 I'ire to young entnusiasts. Unlike his volatile anti- type, he proceeds cautiously by tne "touchstone" or com- parative method in forming critical estimates. 7/hlch is to say, he aims to know, in the old phrase, tne best that has been thought and said on whatever subject may be in hand, and to discover whether his generation is saying anything nevi^, and ir so, hov/ well they are SEtying it; lastly, whether it is worth saying. He leans heavily upon tradition, and, barring his espousal of some special literary nostrum or panacea, will not die young. Frederic Harrison, whose critical portrait is sketcned above, had of course pet aversions and alTections aplenty. But fortunately they were primarily religious and philosophical, rather than literary, and where they did encroacn upon literature proper, he was restrained from any important aberration by tne second quality oi the great critic, tnat of "keeping an eye well open to the true proportion of any single book in the great world of men and affairs, and in the mighty realm of general literature". With Arnoldian equity, catholicity of taste based upon a synthetic philosophy, and the dis- position for generous appreciation of a meliorist, Har- rison was able to present in crystalline form the best that was held in solution by the better criticism of his generation. III. Frederic Harrison has nov/here drawn up a formal r ■Tv ''V'l "i"™ ‘VlH 4A„ . „ .0^, ■ f ra ■■ rt..^- - lf.|V ., > y, ' . ^ ' •’'■**. * *1 1^ ^V' ' ■' * '• . ..'■^ 47^. . ' ^,11 ’ ,w vW' ., ■": '.?'*, ' -1 = ^-.V, ^VT ■ ■■ :/'l •,.'♦ f*' ■ fv . ' . '►i ' *. t| '. .; ■ % ^ y^' Vl ','!yL„. ' . . ' ' ^ ‘■V v’.J'. 7*t- /is^'fvj t \ "iU^ ^ r^"' ,„ '''i • ’ ^^- ■i’i *»jJiij' ** . 'O'!! Pr, n?!'- I ^ f V5J . A! : tr? ‘ M '' "■ •» Jv. - • n , ' '» . I* ,-/ '!'--CCS ■ ■> V* 4^'*' 8PP®'f^ :'^ ,'■ ' ;i^ FI <1 )1. » i i h -5 ^v,■. '.u fti» t • ■f:t : ■ '(''•*' . « . _ . ii .’ 2 . V’ •"' *;,,, sS^P^S < '!« .. •JLVr ■^■’^w ■ ■ " - -- ---i-.. 94 statement or his critical apparatus, but the import&Jit elements constituent in it stand out clear 3.y enough in his essa 3 ^s. i'or exam.ple, qualixy or work alone does not surrice. Harrison exariiines the g.uantity as well. ?/ide literariT- contacts are a legitimate item ror con- sideration. Cosmopolitan rame is more impressive than a merely national vogue. Kis reasons ror denying i‘irst rank to Lamb and Keats illuminate nis principles or Judgement . “The rirst rank in prose, as in verse, is reserved ror those who have embalmed great and virile thoughts in perrect Torm That is to say, the supreme seats are i'or v;ork, 'wherein the thought is superior, or at least equal, to the rorm, -wherein the thought is proround, large, various; where there is mass ana volume or splendid achieve- ment, power over vast numibers, all ages, ‘ races, and symipathies . “ ^ Harrison, like Carlyle, conceives or the great poet as something or a seer or prophet or priest. In this vein he expresses his opinion or the limitations 01 * Tennyson's genius v/nen he says that Teiinyson “gave the age a voice, but did not give it a raith." The essay in which this phrase occurs (Tennyson, Ruskln, Mill, and other Literary Estimates, H.Y. lyuu) illus- trates Y^ell the critical raculties 7/hich Harrison possessed, and the service he was able to render in their exercise. However little Tennyson today may need the ser- vices or a calm, sober essayist to call 1‘or a restrained 1, Tennyson, Ruskin, Mill, and other Literarv Estimates. h'.Y. 1900. p. 178. ; j sj^ ^t'xtam ^ii ^^■4J^^>-4v;^>rA6r^^ W 'tlljv i' , * ^ vV |^B\-- ''. '■: t<-w'^«- fi yiVjfSTSSBW _^WilSL v’’« ' i ’ • A» '• • ^ ' ^ 4 ^ » . ;J j3«L^ ■ I. I nHjUMLA ' ’*■ I * ' ^ • ' T ’• ‘'*~ ' ■' *^!5‘l*'' ' i-j • H Krn , 4 .flo<. '«^i4. r“- ” ’Tfr' t* ^ iqr'u' ^;'4’»^*.- > >. ■'^ '• ' * *'V. '■•■>■ s ,, ^ ■. ♦ '?■■•. I '31^''' ■ ' i m^' *■ ! 1 i? X t> a« * ‘ «:^* ,. •■ •'■ ,■ -‘ V- ' . /£! M <|j» -4 .li, .1../.1. • ■-' .• i.fiti'i:- ..... g’aia "V*iif *• • * * • * “ •’*'''>- *i t *• ' j3 1 ' 1' t . <■; <:;v ' ^ i iJAf -I -#^j54a-" • lo/ :ctd i»«^i i . •' * .»c»-t ftj Vi^^vA'^'-; ^ '* |. , .;li- ■'♦ wSl^ A 04*3f •■■I.:--,- %tf ■' "'V- V-/)’..- «i<: " . -441^ v^ '* •".• . 5.*»* ;• .1^,, « L 1 ’>. ► t'l !■- '^7 ■ .('»yyJC, . '.’/ ^ ^Ai>!v4i*7’w ;. •; ...;,.<»Xttw'f ,(5|f|!| '“' ss >y ■-jV' 26 adiuiration or his poetic achievement, such was not the case when Harrison’s Tenny son. Kuskin . Mill appeared. yo • The laureate was bur recently dead, and the storm ot* uncritical, ill-advised adulation still beat about his nar;ie, while eulogistic studies and flatulent monographs were poured forth without any discrimination whatever."^ The insistence by a competent critic on the admiiration of Tezinyson’s more legitimate and permanent qualities at a time when he *#as popularly regarded as having a mission to instil pnilosophy, religion, morality, and patriotism into the life of the English people, constituted nothing less than a conspicuous public service. Harrison's conception of the qualifications of the critic also appear in the same volume, in the latter part of the discriminating essay on Matthew Arnold. Harrison approaches Arnold, in this section, as a phllo- sopner and theologian. His approach is extremely reluct- ant, for he can work up no glov/ over Arnold's controversial writings when they Invade h^^s ov/n special field. With Culture as the appellate court, Harrison finds, Arnold set up as supreme a,rbiter, v/hence he lectured on polities, philosophy, and religion, without system, principles, or doctrine. This is irrational, and to Harrison, irration- ality, irjfi.pulse, intuition, any kind of unanalyzed emotion, employed in such a manner, Yvas unthinkable, — the dead- liest of the seven sins. 1. W.P. Trent. Eorum. 30:119. . o hwl a O MSfel - - .«f^t j ^ j*y„ ■ , - Mf, ■^’YiVjiy <}i ^ aw*««/.rryyi,i T^'.ii~:; ■s:v;’-’-.'fH:- » — i, ii Tx.'>oy> xu^.<: i Ar>4 i .’. . ... . \., '■ ' '■ [ a. ,.o^ Sti-i I'M 4 ¥^.tf . C i -7/ V n _s . ‘.^ ^ ^ »V.U'''‘K V* , ’ ts ■' .£« J. ( 1 t I i«> /i. * ? fl’i , ' , ‘ ' *-*v *.* . * -• *K ** ^ ■ \Sf^' * " “ ' ^ ^ fci’in:Jii.rrI- (i ii6 ii^fL’^' K'I 4 a.tiT.v, •: , .^^Siypi I' J I ' ‘ ■ V - • ; A.TJifi.iXii ‘to ' ‘M . : ' .N • ■>■:; 'Iiellb .s'? t ;iil«’ / : • V :iv-4| rii:. ■' M 96 Principles, standards, a theory, a "touchstone", these, Harrison reels, are the first items of equipment in the hit of the moralist or critic. In an essay on J.A. Symonds, Harrison unfolds still further his conception of the qualifications of a critic, which I have already ascrihed to Harrison, himself, Peeling that Symonds had better commend over his emotions then Ruskin, and a closer f air.iliarity v/ith the whole field of modern lirerarure and art than either Rushin or Arnold, he wrote "The great value of Symonds *s judgemients abour literature and art arises from his uniform combination of comprehensive learn- ing with Judicial temper." 1 The latter quality has been lacking in the work of many illustrious literary men. It is absent in all except the occasional best of the criticism and history of Garlyle , in Proude with his airy emancipation from cold matters of fact, in Macaulay "banging his antithetic drum," WhiJe Harrison possessed precisely that quality illustrated by the defects of Carlyle, Froude, and Macaulay, ttiey, in turn, especially Carlyle, were endowed with tiie imponder- able pov/er coffipleuely denied Harrison, of cornmnni eat mg new and pov/erful ideas by intuitive flashes of broad in- sight, or Of illuminating an historical epoch with a glov»r which will last for all time. 1. Tennyson, Ruskin, Mill, p, 144, K ^ LV S ' I i.> ■•'’ jf. ■ J " I t? ifi'» Hi >-.** , C” » .rij I .; * V-: • / ■ ' ,'■ 3 ' niM ' ” ', ■ 'ii ^ . • ., - . . ,• . ■ ■. - ’ • ,^ . .-' i*. . :,-;l Pi . ^ ■ * **‘N* '*^ ■iHKlM , '. ■>' p. . . s • . ■'■ , .. , • ;■! " ^ . * 3-1 » '-’f'* tl'Jtail Jw J '''Sc's:^ .^t'^t% li.J |£»l5?'fv" , * *' ■ ^li ‘It ‘ V' * - ■ ■ *♦ 1 E^' r,;,'- . ' ^-' . •-'• • ’ V t'i Tb^R'‘i; . v' ■’ ct» 1 * ' ’ ^, ■ ■, .. .:. :im I’ 'a ' ■ . V ,,V / xl iljt t- ‘‘ 1 ^ 'sJh' ^ ’■ L'”'’’’-'’ ’"'■" \v‘® U-'^WI 1 ^ ' ‘it r> ‘ •I “*•• rrft yX ' .KI 14 3b i it :' c 4 r *: . ;i .-^ i j^rtf ■' . .Milt, -nn ■ aJK'*' , :'■ (;m (.wTU ,Mllt. 'lfl' ,';|^;f,'‘. ^ ^ vf li'"’' *1 ' ;Ci 4 ^ ' '^y "’"^ !• ''--I.' -3 ,-,u t. ‘■••' '.'A 1 :,; i 5 vb£M|^ I IV. 97. We should display a singular cbtuseness to huirisn 1‘rallty, if we were to suppose that a man, once having staked his wnole intellectual lire on one dom- intint idea, or set of ideas, would not reveal that attitude in his approach to literature. To one v/ho has read the hooks of Frederic Harrison, who has responded with wnat sympathy he c an to Harrison's earnest, elociuent special pleading, who has felt the rorce of his logic and the edge of his irony, the wonder grows that he is so moderate in his literary propagandizing for the positivistic creed. His critical eye, indeed, Is not altogether free ifom Comtian astig- matism. His ingenuity in bringing to view an unsus- pected positivistic strain in all admirable writers is Inexhaustible, v/hen, on occasion, the veteran of Posi- tivism unfurls his banner. Sometimes the positivism outcrops in a manner which gives a hostile cast to his critical attitude. In an essay on Tennyson, for example, Harrison echoes ironically the Tennysonian sentiment that "we ha.ve but faith, we cannot know," "Tennyson", he wrote, "again for the thousandth time re-echoes most musically our sense of ignorance" in the same key with "hundreds of beautiful essays full of heroics, nope, and vague warnings about something 'behind the veil'". We may obviously infer lYom this tone that faintly trusting in the larger hope is not a temper of mind agreeable to a Positivist. Harrison is v/riting here in precisely the tone v;lth which ne would devote himself 'K'V-'-/ .-tYi/IT ’••.»'• ’■«’. ■' »!'. " /v:^^r ,?«•.?!»* ‘ V '. ’ 4 -’’ •' ’ * '-’■i' r ■' > A, . ‘ 7 ' • vt'” '■- ' -;i)* 5 fa' ‘ •-..,6 r‘:i 't^f-^jf/ ' ^'' '>'■“ 5 ^*.- 1 *^ .*. r , ao :^ 4 -' W &ir boA ->^f(i. Ih It Jr 4 ^^ v» ;Ci lia .: . oa , 4 e'' »v it.' . t 0 : .* * i .' V'/iaofi \ n-^l tv I, »' 41 J '■‘i 1 17 .: .y I ♦ '••^ ^ ' * J ■Y*^i ■’'•***' '*hj *cl< , . j *r rf» . 4 ~ A , j" _ ^ ^'v' ” * "' * ' 4 -i ^ :v) . ci i.r^v i < 4 “ ■ .la ', , ...4 ^7; <1 ^ tjf; ■ ** ■ ^ », *•- • * V / » ihiiv^'J, O'J ^ jjtifiU^inoit ..Witf.tf ,uk^ii»rt,.a''^5f'i^ V l^AVT.-' 1 |M> ’ , ■ wW ;„ • 4 * 4 f«vx: tfO‘>lf^ -•»*-* " ' ;^ ' . *'i ,.• ^c,vo'^,,:, ‘/V ho^yjt^ur.ry i^'Sft'' . r4-.';;'jfTv-» -l^ ' '* ■ ' \ J ’ ** T * ' I 1 i. " 'ft iji»fliir-. .*. i .1 t. ' *.»w ■ , • ^1 f ;»-. i..* 1 . lju.twff ; JT 1 .J: i|=E iT'ti •i''i'wfi‘:. •twpC 4 r»..‘:*'» 4 »:‘ftiif{' , • tfi. f^v n v-‘' J. *'d ;/ foiftii- ' I '-iJi: r Jxjfc r , 4i y.t j tu/j \ c i £{A rr .■»'4f' ^ --^ '' ’ ‘ini • Vf ''yfi-iis" taoc _ t a: tq %Qwi:^ i, '4fiul • ■ / / ■ ! ■ • 'Ml, 98 in a review to a piece oi' agnostic, tneist, or Anglican speculation, i'or controversial purposes its energy is adJiiirable, but its tone deviaues sharply from xbat criticism which is distinguished by ixs Judicial temper. I have alluded above to Harrison’s indefati- gability in searching out common bases, common interests, enthusias2i:.s, sympathies . and aspirations with those who stand at opposite poles from him in all questions bearing on the "eternal verities." He is supple and persuasive, and attacks his task blithely. Then with an almost imperceptible shift of emphasis, he modulates to a totally unrelated key, and hails his accredited antagonists as fellovz-workers in the same vineyard. By this method, he nas inscribed many strange names on the muster rolls of Humanity, kor nis motley, brilliant assemblage of recruits, Harrison gladly oifers vicarious Av or ship at the snrme of Comte. The company is heterogeneous. Let me choose at random a trio wnomi Harrison hailed affably as comrades, - John Ruskin, MattheAv Arnold, and Tnomas Huxley, I know of no important name in the literature of the nine- teenth ceni-ury which would represent a more divergent ana remote point of vievir from the otner two, if it were substituted for one of the three, unless it be that of Jonn Henry Hewman. but this cacophony of antipatnies, Harrison the accomplished organist, reduces to a mellow harmony, rolling forth -with mietjestic sonority the theme of a 7 ' ' '. V, . l K ’ ■ TT; ,.l k! 1 V ‘ ^ .• .‘ilil ■• '<■ ,:iv .•■;i^‘-'»^'‘’'«'l»fi*f’v '• . 1 ‘Xvl5 4 | . .M i!' ■ .. .' f, 4 l‘ ta.,i^'dn» M. J , . * . . ' ' ' ■ ■ ' -iv ♦ ... • r - . . XV / ^,-etii' ifj Kii ^ rC iTi .1 ^ '■ ';• • ,■■ ■ .iw' OyiJlH ^!';,4 ‘O J>lx ;J iV. It, 0 w * ' K Cl '-S TJjpSvM -.. 70 i‘\t/r. ■ ^ ir'", J' ' ' '.. ■? j T|g . f !i^ ’• A^ M '* 3 “ b'<|X 'XM A ■ , . V ; .,trt(^II^! rQ^^iTfri ’TC'ifc.’.,,|,, 'n (» is t - . • '•’- *M5 ’'.Pi ’ ' V >'■ 7 '»V .. -''''> ■ C'* F iJ , ^ PO ' .'. .■< \H^: P' *1 «'■ w 3 i»/ • ■ '*- '■'-' ■•.'it*.' . 04 ^, '.'■^j UH ■ ' '^ ^ <■ • i'^«a ^'.> r.-. -.ji^ 4|l';l^^{'S^- ^ 'flli , 15 *.. fiju; , :ti'.(it/lo , ..IrWiS ^ ‘’ •#^ j ' ', i-'Tj i mn wiwwk** iMrt; , r ' *f W A | . J. ’ ** ’ jtfll K mU Q ,n II .r, ^ •^^r t i wj / Tu- *jS^‘s %«U' V bah%j itQm"'Jtm p. •»»-. ...» I/-. ’ :pii- cmi'f y , f_i. . - - J * ■ V'. fcSL ^ • — ■" 7 -. '' 7 - T; . ^ i V .• ^ ' ; ft.. I •■»''''■-. ''‘7 03 ,'■■ 4 . -x;.i.^;‘i;t^ 7 - ,/ . 77 ... woi'itv.t 4 ; A'. .!’ '•'* aIj! litWMiP' .A. 7 '-tjf '■'V.-V^ 7 . ' ;y'',' t ' . 3 liH ’* 7 ^ ■ ' - i? V- .• i '.JM j ' Beaux-y iimrietn, narinonious, ineiTabie, spherical. Harri- son's reeling ar at-oneness with Rushin was based upon nis ov/n perception that "morally, spiritually, as seen through a glass darhly, I believe uhat his teachers and. my teachers are essentially one." as Harrison can easily manage for Comte a handsome, ir limited, commendation of polytheism, eciually well the Roman Catholic church, he can easily accomplish a curtsey to Arziold, or to Huxley, or Ruskin. With some of the latter's strong affinities in mind, Harrison enumerates medieval architecture, the thirteenth century, and the works of Sir ?/alter Scott as objects of Auguste Comte's transfixed adiriiration, in which respect he (Harrison) will not yield for him (Comte) second place even to him (Ruskin) . It is this medieval and Renaissance period that Ruskiii "adorned with color", Harrison said, and to which Comte gave a philosophy. Such enthusiastic medievalism bursting from tne spirit of a hot liberal has its comic aspects. It is to be hoped that the shade of Ruskin was not insensible to Harrison’s delicate ad hominem argument. It was shorxly aiter Huxiey published his hssays unon dome Controverted Questions (Ib^S) in which he criticized sharply Comte ana tae vhiole Rositivist movement, and referred ironically to the prophetic and pontifical aspects of Harrison's positivistic activities, tha.t Harrison discovered that he, Comte, and Huxley were . all cultlve^ting the same garden. The difference, he come to see, was merely one of emphasis, the positivist ^’^,Jw^i(r‘f.iK..-i ii¥ 6 T?£-:, atsm jJ* * ' .■•■'* '' ^'JJfiH Hjf' -ku'Y^A y. i , *'"■.; , •■■». -■ --'^■*! _ tv”'®'' - ,‘t/\ W 0»«?™7l Pfltf ‘ ■ ■ • — >•' V •?' ’’"> - ’*' - ^ 'ni! < ■ ^iik^'pF'm.'u'..-.. . -* .'?“■ ■■ J;' "u- J’-.v.'»i;,‘'M\. .... . • 1 •-;it'*~: V.' ' if, it fjri a , ’ I *v ' » 'I *v C, \/s ■} r )l . ; » e(|i».^, ;;. , • N t \'Mv^ . - ■ .? t *y; ^ . :*»„ •'^g.} M^*SJ ? ' ' ** ■ • .• '■' .' LX- •• .; ■ ,:ti f {f4.p^ *1 i ''yC' ’ ,''■ -1 ' ' ') -; v.'j-it.,..r / *i -* .'i rc^t^ ><» h fj IV i-.i X( b. t. t.v* e -jfecy»wfl^ •■ ' 4 ' " •”' '* 1 ™ >1 . 1 ^-^ -i V'' ' >b * £( a y fl. I- .' • 1 V , 4m i A K I'T^A. ■ -. 'U w2.- lOU accepting tne agnostic position as a matter or logic, but going on rrom the bare negation in wnicn tne agnostic rested contentedly, to develop a religious and social prograia on the basis or demonstrable knowledge. Karri- son is thus able to write or Huxley, "on the purely intellectual ground ... I would claim nim as in a rair v/ay to become — I v;ill not say a Positivist, ror he hates tnat and all sucn nem.es, — but I will say a col- league with me and my rr lends in tne work oi‘ popular scientific teaching to v;nien we have^long devoted our- selves . " Althougn Huxley "could just as soon bov/ dovm and v/orsnip the generalized conception orAWllderness of A apes" as to v/orsnip Humafiity, he still felt "Inat a man should deteririlne uo devote himself to tne service or humanity - including in- tellectual and moral self, culture under that naiiie; that this should be, in the proper sense of the word, his religion — is not an intelligible, but, I tnlnk, a laudable resolution. And ^ ^ greatly disposed to believe tnat it is the only reli.j.clon wni ch will -prove itsel f to be unassailably accgut - aole so long as tne numan race endures . " This "service of man" — not "vjorsnip of Eumanlty" — Harrison says exultantly, is all that he asksl He has found at last common ground with a redoubtable foe, — and hoisted him by his own petard too. With tne most demure humility, Harrison aligns Huxley beside him as "a rudimentary Positivist." 1. The Philosophy of Common Sense, p. 285. 101 Harrison displays iiis most consuirunate suHtlety in his trea^tment of Arnold, whose philosophical and social principles seemed to him as vague as his Judge- ments seemed, in their pretensions, omniscient. Study of Arnold’s theological criticism convinces Harrison that Arnold, like M. Jourdain> and many others, "was constantly talking Comte 'without knov/ing it." The conclusion of Culuure and Anarchy . says Harrison, is not only "a fine piece of English", hut "the siumnlng up of the mission of Culture is entirely and exactly the mission of Positivism and is even expressed in the very language used by Comte." Let us not he dis- concerted here hy the oblique allusion to Arnold as a plagiarist of Comte. Harrison’s intention was pure and earnest, and he doubtless spoke from a Itill heart. It 'Will be readily seen from the illustrations which have been given that Harrison has set up a very elastic principle, capable of being invoked on occasion, to drive a foe into utter confusion by the proffer a.o:^ a brotherly embrace. As for Ruskin, Huxley, and Arnold, he delivered them, betrayed by a kiss, into the hands of the Positivists. Imagine now their embarrass- ment and chagrin when by chance^ they meet on some golden thoroughfare, by some wall of Jasper or chrysopraset What consternation we may fancy descending upon them, as they proceed together toward the meeting of some paradisiacal metaphysical society to argue tne immor- tality of the soul, inadvertently to fall in with the IT ' -*-^ 1 * 1 - TiTi TirTTinv KVtJrdUk. ? ' * '- ,. ■ ' wf , ' ' -< ,,. • I m^' r : *"■ ,M»^.i iyC,:..' (ono [^4 'JO .li- Vv- iiV/ !Lt ,j«u.vu. v-'tfs la- i»^>t^-ifX!i knU-^-kXm’dL ^v> --L %: ' s®. ■» -r.,'jlraf I- > J 'fl ' '■“ !• * •■‘oi tiio ^il ^ 5 ;i£- ir^' VC- ' •'?, ' • -'E * , . • fc- .*5 .«; . *■'' i..-J : ■ i\ iHtMi . '' ‘ V'iitt *'^' 3 v v:.r Z^,ni - .*' 43 Sj^'^ ' .V;‘i‘, affitf.:- ii I 'v - * ' ’ ,.j ■ T ij-s, '•' ^ '''^ ■ » . i- ■ ' ■ ■■*jj •‘tfi n ■' . V /• ,‘,c4' »U- ■■,if -.. a ’•. ■ ’- .'* I ■«*(.' ■ /, .ivi i \fr - - 102 genial Harrison who greets them as fellow Positivists I One imagines in Rusk in an impeiiuoiis toss of the head, and a fluent, explosive expression of exacerbation; in Arnold infinite c^ulet chagrin, in Huxley an incisive, blistering comment, — in Harrison the synthetic, emol- lient gesture. V. "If there are fashions, habits, and tastes which the rising generation is certain to despise," v/rote Harrison in "Early Victorian Literature" v/ith the slightly cynical acojnen of seventy five years, "it is such as ?/ere current in the youth of their oim parents about thirty or forty years before them. The collars, the bonnets, the furniture, the etiquette, the books of that age always seem to the young to be the last word of all that is awlrward and 'bad form’ , although in two or three generations these very modes regain a cer- tain quaint charm." ^ A glance today at the list of authors who, in Harrison's opinion "from the point of view of the his- torian of ideas, and of manners . . . record the successive influences which, in the last fifty years or so, he.ve moulded or reflected English opinion" , impresses one with the emphatic truth that the teachers of the fathers constitute the antipathies of the sons. Carlyle, Macaul- ay, Disraeli, Thackeray, Dickens, Bronte, Kingsley, Trollope, Eliot — they are not in uhese latter days so 1. Early Victorian Literature, p. lys. Js . iMii ii fc r n' ,i. ^i. f «>|p , 'mw rw«J t: ''• 1 lv-liilt'~ '>.oi/u-'l'i(,'^’j;‘» •'iT ' Hh I { : f • I , ai\ ^ M'‘t J* . ' ■ ' , ’■ ^ ' ' ' ■ ‘ .. - ';' ; ■ ' -V ■■<■.•;. •'yS,™.-J .r-.^ t 4 f.V' 53 iSyiA»'«:- • " ■ ■ ■;^?'|,. ■.- » *•* r» tJ • 'ii* 'u ■ *■ I . : e. ’ f / ' * \ 'i «i; 7 . k>, : vi; jiT . 1 ^ - S’ji * -j )| /' Ct! » .. ./> *■ * * *. • t t \J --^^4 ■' » *■ - u . *-'v * ' ,\. .' ;c dii: i-3‘ fjilt 5-- '/cni * fAt *i' 1' • •“ ' V* ^ . ■’ ■■ o %', V -yf J4iffi(;pr' 1S 1i ' ii ly f: •!_ ft V * T f f'»*J *Tv . i-Jk *,10 ' 4 V - 1 :\ : , i' it ’Ji'ipfsiii- •r.'rj^,; ' 7 ^ »' ■'i w , . '■' ■ ■ ' ■ yfi ' ',‘i' '*^^‘04 rW 'i' y ••'»■ <■ \-r . ▼r; -*iii»» -H. ».| ■ '.'■g^.'S.l ;,.^4 _.. . * '4 ." : ■ r - 4iA' n . li •ry lOS much violently repudiated, perhaps, as egregiously ignored as h eing inconsetiuential. The nev/ generation seeks new voices to expound its philoson'ny, to register its complaints, and record its sensations. Yet these names bulk large in the literature oi* the first half of the reign of Victoria, and an examin- ation of their literature should leave unexplored few nuances of nineteenth century manners and thoughts. The central achievement or the nineteenth century, wrote Harrison in the volume quoted above, was tne discovery of tne reign of law in society; law being understood as the biologist, physicist, ar astron- omer understands it. "This social aspect of thought colours the poetry, tne romance, the literature, the art, and rhe philosophy of the Victorian Age." Wide as may be the differences between the work of such men as Tennyson, Darwin, Mewman, Ruskin, Moriey, or jj'roude, they have in common a characteristic unique of their age, — social earnestness, "enthusiasm for social truths as an Instruinent of reform" , founded upon the believ tnat txie idea of invariable law offered a solution for the progress of society. V/itn its preoccup.^tion witn science and with social energies, English literature in the last century vastly enlarged its boundaries, at tne sarjie time abandoning the Ciceronian prose, aiid classical ideals of tne eighteenth century belletrists. It gained thereby immeasurably in the force and originality of its 1. Ibid. p. It 3 .* ’ iWy iCi t-^lJi. \iiii4W;w^ ,0 l>‘*' 5<' ’ ‘. ^ ' * ■ 1- ‘ , ■* ■I ■ . :^i i)'l!l I ' i*l ,'/Sfe'‘ * ■-*' < ^ »"tc» ^ ^tS ■ ■ '^’ vVnt*!"'- ,r . %..;'V ,i.f -#^)i;d 5ir ^ --i '.:.y*?.j[ it i* J 'JJiS /v J- fr", nhnl‘9sa^i jk 1 I T4 • ' -, '^ ■ vfiif JSBiB ■ ■f; , f M- « • V « >.* ^ * Ki^k>'wV4i I A . ‘ it j* 1U4 profcje, bux. lost trace, in the preponderance of practical, sociological interests^ of the flow of England's Helicon. Hot since Shelley conceived his "Prometheus", nas English poetry "attempted to scale the empyrean of song." As tiie type of modern, scientific thougnt, evo- lution, with its emphasis upon correctness of observation its nard, practical realism, its absorption in the collec tion, classif ication, and interpretation of tne data of experience, crusned out the more spontaneous forms of literature. "Poetry and romance lost something of tneir wilder fancy and uneir light heart." In the same vein, Harrison wrote "Tne age is against the romance of colour, movement, passion, and jollity." An effective lignt is tnrown on tne earlier gen- eration or Victorians by Harrison's study of Carlyle, who illustrates by contrast the q.ualities of the contemporary literature. Wixh passionate ardour he tnrew nimself athwart the spirit of the age, cryixig out v/ildly in nis ovm strange idiom. Despite all handicap, the obscurity of the philosophy of Sartor axiu its (lothic ornamentation; despite -&he savage, gnarled Puritanism whose creed he outlived, but whose intolerance clung to him; despite "the drivel of his Pro-slavery advocacy", and his "ill- conditioned snarling at honest men labouring to reform ancient abuses", Carlyle remained "if not the greatest prose master of our age . . . by virtue of his original genius and' mass of stroke, the literary dictator of Victorian prose", ^reat and fruitful as was Carlyle's genius, and powerful as ills influence remains even to the second and third generation, xie will not live, Harrison concludes. His v/ork was destructive, illuminating in some v/ays prophetic, but in disharmony with his age. Like Kuskin, he set nimselr at deriance of all men, as evolving absolute truth out of nls ov/n inner consciousness. one of the strangest and most unjust of tne vagaries of current taste is the almost total obscurity into which the novels of Benjamin Disraeli and Antnony Trollope have fallen; the one a master of orilllant, audacious satire, the other a master of limpia, supple, melodious prose; tne one painting with quick strokes the political world of nineteenth century England, as seen by an astute statesman; the other relating the parlia- mentary and ministerial world witn London society, so as to give "the best record of actual manners in tne higher English society between 1355 aiid 1875," In his treatment of Disraeli and Trollope, Har- rison has seized upon the typical and permanent qualities, as he did in numerous essays, with Kingsley, Erancis Hev/- man, Canon Liddon, Spencer, Dickens, Eliot, Huxle5»-, and many others, all of vvnom reveal "that which is so char- acteristic of recent English literature, — its strong, practical, social, ethical, or theoretical bait." His sumjiiary of Victorian literature is so comprehensive as to De worthy of quotation in ilill; — 1 f xflfryp^^l i ■^V.A ,, ..„ „‘v 4^5 ' ^'- m* fv»i iH )# #yljj . a; y_f JCf4 .,-iXy ^ ~ii» 1. ■ * V "'\' • i 'V -feM ^n ^ ' ._ _ . * ., '• •. *'**71 *■ •' Lr^a l^A' , wtfv .'O' ‘ti^-vv'^' t V'* • **■ '-f *' - j'.'--. I’^jr.; 4 j'’ -V ■ • • >t*i tfi'::o ..v> ™ «*• '.;. -L- ■ * ^ ./, , . iik . . *1 - ’«, 'V, i» 'T? •( . . ■ . . ' " '■ -*, *i > f 1% ^ 45 ' '■' -S' Ti^^a r^ 'r.- . ,ii, v»^;. >■1. 1 "«i r-vi. . U.4 i iLii ' < ^ '7 ■ ii-. 106 . "It is scientific, subjective, introspective, nisx-orical, archeological: — full of vital- ity, versatility, and ' diligence ; — intensely personal, defiant of all law, of standards, 01 convention: — laborious, exact, but often indifferent to grace, syrmnetry, or colour: — it is learned, critical, cultured: --with all its arfibition and its fine reeling, it is un- sympatnetic to 'cne nignest forms of the im- agination, and quite alien to the drama of action." VI. The idea wnich so many of us so fondly cherish, that tne tv/entieth century will achieve something new or original in the forms of literature, Harrison quashes firmly as "a Juvenile delusion." As a classical scholar, he facile ly summons the past experience of the race to bear out his contention. "In the tv/o or three thousand years that have passed since Homer and Virgil, Sappho and Horace, Plato aiid Cicero, and all that Italiaii, French, and English literature has since a- chieved, tne possibilities of form in which genius can find expression have^been exheiusted for all practicfil purposes."^ In the field oi" ideas the situation is quite different. "The limitless expansion of human life and the ceaseless control over the World will give perpetually new ideas to be told and inexnaustible stores of fresh knowledge to be spread. But human language does not exp6Uid with infinite rapidity, and the forms of huiiian expression are not infinitely num- erous nor infinitely variable." 3 1, Early Victorian Literature p. 13. 3. Among My Books. 1913. H.Y. p. 133. 3. Ibid. p. 133. 10 ?. Literature now is in an expectant, transition- al state. The love of beauty is alive and potent. The search for something new has. produced a chaos of new realism, old idealism, impressionism, obscenity and vulgarity; but the search goes on at fever heat. One by one the old ideals are sloughed off. Every fresh im- pulse, every exploring talent, struggles for expression under the direction of strange, bizarre conventions, ideals but newly erected, or no ideals whatever. In the religious and moral world there is only dreary ne- gation. "Philosophers, scientists, poets, theologians, all celebrate the apotheosis of doubt." The ancient moral and spiritual forces, Harrison recognizes, have v/eakened euid dissolved. The v/orld stands wavering v^lthout intellectual organization, moral discipline, or the consolation of -religion. It expects a new faith; but its ¥/atchmen nave no word of the night.. With all the passion of a Ruskin, Harrison be- lieves in the necessity of a faltn and religion to a society v/hicn is to achieve notable things in art and letters. There, in brief, lies tne explanation of the dearth of great literature in our disillusioned age. A somewhat less elusive basis upon v/hich Har- rison also attempts to account for the present parlous state of English literature, is the commonplaceness and drab uniformity of the society which he sees about him. He places the responsibility squarely upon the educa- tional system, and the Hew Womaii. However our grand- VW"'# .'M . ^::1 ?' ^ V ■ 1*4 Xi* I M i(» , f » I r.* I i itlaJt ,./ .. ■>■ • . ^'■’- ii?: ' *• . H- :•„; *■ '(i . > , 1 . ^ ■■” ■ 'X " ■ '* ;^;^l■^v. fc I : ■{■‘ ^ ■ ' * ' ' II ' ^ • -V .is'-.’., .ivwA-JP" ' ' .io; /. * • P *> y V ■ ti'* I *♦ 4 # . i- • |f- . * !.i . A ' *i( t : • . 'ct -St ' '*'1, ifsr, ki - i • IJ f { ♦‘V-* •; ■• .>'■ I ■^ .!* ‘ ’■ X t * - "-—■‘•U !■• . f ; ,. ts?.;;,C 'Vw; ,|i ’■ # -jir u * X * 7 v jS't ^ r* I - li 'v mJ . ■ ■ V ' ■ - *. V , » .) '. .. _ Jj^h.± ^ ■■'^i \ I I'T- '< ' . tV I .'J ,£ 3 Ejr» ‘ . -. ! L.K.ii '■-:/■'^| 4 ;.,:.. - V - .-.C « F i - - - i^» *'A' li ,‘i (^^'.4, ■•« 't'-. * ,- V. rj,:i^p l' 4 #^ ii* )*■■. :>■)£. '!S ■>,■'. "il ^•' Vi' s • I 'i|£ «■ L ' i rf 'll ^ li ] 108 fathers may have hehaved, our grandmothers, Harrison assures us, "held fast to the traditions of gentle- women," differing essentially in that respect from the contemporary, emancipated womanhood which holds its course towetrd free spirits, economic independence, and lifted norizons. While all melts beneath our feet, the standards of gentility have lapsed into obscurity. Seeking simplicity we have found vulgarity. The quest of democracy has ended in . an arid commonplaceness of social atmosphere. Harrison’s complaint against the uniformity of our education represents at once a more serious, more plausible, and certainly a more gallant explanaxion. "Millions can write good grasmiar, easy and accurate sentences, and imitate the best examples of the age. Education has b een driven at high pressure into literary lines, and a monotonous correctness in literary- taste has been erected into a moral code. Tens of thousands of us can put the finger on a bit of exaggeration, or a false light in the local colour, or a slip in perfect realism." ^ The penalty imposed upon us is a mechanical culture. A great quantity or good lifer ature, — but no great geniuses; "thousands of graceful verse-v/r iters" — but nov great poet; "a torrent of skillful fiction", — and no great novelist; charming painxers, - but no great artist. It is precisely the situation against Which J.S. Mill had v/arned from the middle of the century until the end of his life. But the time spirit was 1. Early Victorian Literature, p. 30-31. iq,4r. I »fr* * • f" ■> Vr v^a>>.^T^ '-wTi™ ' „,?,■ '.^-^w: <^,i( ' ‘;?|IVV' ■•■ <■■ 'jt - 7 , >; >•,! , V ( ■>j ^ ^ ''it 4i, i'.'A' A. k-* M 4<«i.' *1- v>w. . V ' ^1 ■ -' ■' "!»•••'■' • •*»v^ ‘ r 'jy'. i\)l .ycf^N^'fC'Jl'' w>^ j.n-|reo ?o. t:''n^; *Ww|P||Lg‘ JVxj'ij.i « 4a ;-igB vtt’i i>iJ ' fc .•‘JV ■ It , V . jitni .. ' ■ ■ '^ . vju^riv'' ftBA; ^ *V I . i,. !u f . //'V ii"-4 * 4- < ^ , ' ‘ ■ V '' .Ijr^M-'.A rwj ft . < Av tfl ' • •':' t r >i '■ — . ■ ' ‘8 "-'h*. "f Ts * ;-« >A‘ ,4vU * Jt., .-.■i., /jV . '’J '■'■'” V' U.J/ . fft;. ‘ ^. . ■>- f‘* -^oot'#. i '^' j . t' ( i .arf. .' .t 1 .). :; V u . V .w y*"'" itJ* .i,3AA0 1 ■ •"■ • /*'■> rtgtif ' ; J ♦ ‘ y ’ ‘I iff' f ■ 7(j tr t j fj . .7* I , . nn . ' ; j, ! .-' , .j it iiil ^'. ’ • .*< y i jf 'j -^- " j'kit I'i ,; ^ K * ^ • . W\i • » "i- -re »ift*l f Vf ; ;"' US ?. *’M . ?» * ’’il k-T^a^ *>•. /«*'■% ' • ' ; ./''vjj** , ’ T "■■^'■■'S''’^j , ‘ f' , : OMt-/ •* ,mP74/i^v •.. .CjWlji ^ f .. '• r. ti({i»i^ji; t j It ® , n i 1 ii\. iytlf.tt»0 »,li ^0, W'-J;.LJ^iaS,;U'};,'} l,'^nin% 4'<.". .1 f :if - ' *' *■ (V ,' A%’’ ‘v.'^.r «■• m*- • ' ■ *A. *'• *v. > - S •• . ■ ', ra Kv ±. , '.*'Y W- ■ '., ^^;'>LJJ^nHBR■ “*’■•■" v‘4 s*.;i^v/;.r ■ ■■ A'':'?* . m '/s', 'k'.^JUl '■' .W^.M1- , ,• * 109 against his individualism. ‘This is not all. "Thera are other things which check the flow of a really original ' literature, though perhaps a high average culture and a mechan- ical system of education may be xne most potent. Violent political struggles check it; an absorption in material interests checks it: uniformity of habits, a general love of comi'ort, conscious self-criticism make it dull and turbid." ^ • leither all the sins of the hew YiToman, nor the evils of universal education, nor the repressive influence on genius of a materialistic luxurious society, nor yet all the literary crimes of a critical fastidiousness are to be wholly laid at our door as the foundling off- spring of the t'wentieth century. Harrison readily and generously admits collusion. All these influences were up and stirring in the previous century. Our generation surrers the consequences. Our fathers let slip our faith. Until we have a nev/ religion, — perhaps, as Harrison prophesies, a religion of humanity — we must expect our literary genius to blush and blow in the ob- scurity of the modest violet. Meanvmile we reap the whirlv/ind sov/n by the Victorians, VII . Harrison’s practice in writing harmonized very v/ell with his publicly expressed notions on the subject of style. So we meuy attend to the maxims he addressed to a group of Oxford undergraduates in primer-f ashion: 1. Ibid. p.33. .-1 i. ‘^- 1 !-f ii 'j ..,i\' -f • i ^ ■■.1 ■■ 1 9 \ k. i ■■^ f _ _ _. • '.tv w -Jf jfi' t^.' 'T , 1 :: •? *> V- V , ; 'f 't ^ JL ( 'r; ^ W'Ij ^ «• F * » . Vj^ " ^-aj. lo<^.':;\.„ .. ,'^ZIPm '^bv "tit a*’XMwv ., r-iT ft ^ : ,W.', i.-. Iv J m Oik fli*r«po .fit i '‘ tf- ^ : -Jn" ■K.iiiN?*i< 4 *1^4 ,,'Uvi^0M a?;j;-ri‘jp >^ : aoo :r 4 -*• '•♦ ■ I* . } -. •y_i ■■>.../ V ^J\i \ > '*?’*•■ . V- ' 'I'.-few.. I ' » A * '■ * 1 ♦ j *-^ 1 * #* -• Cf2.:*i='w4 •vLf\jO|^tr4'i cl i^i >V r 4 .a 1 J ' * 4 . WO .aV V/ir- ‘, 'A ftr>'j ■ ... . - ^ ' Mm: A ' ■ jar?-- - '.l^il: ;’. l 4 ttirlV' hjf4 f:;^^^. -W '■ ' 4 ’ J jtio tViiij® '*-’.tt.i» >•- •:- ’ A' 4\ VI .lU. v^,». 'S . . !► . "j, "■* > ? ^ %r g‘ , ■> • Mx. -* • » « '^pis ' ■ ' :>0i’tm U f . '^i i, ,><;•. ...' i . .j ’.1 y>;-j\ ti i, ‘ '-w ';i> /i.t f.^v' :i:. it lii •• ■ ' ' ' ' 4 >’T 1 &!|' ..^nl>:r v.»; ji, .'4*, ‘jcrt iwtf. , ,' • > *' ■ ■■' ■• ■ '':^ 3 , ' ' ■> . v'‘, •■ m'^H ■ _ ■ ^ ^;' \ ■■ i' = * I i l Xmh\ i- T)".' #f ^ y 'vvi;'- K. ( " - to .tWi v\ • - ■ ■ ■ ■ ' ■'■ ■■ ■ -*■■" I iri^VJ J! -A >. v’v.. I.>i, 0 .' :A*,,r««y,*;^S^ , " ' • .^ - 'I ' -VT-^V^ife M |is* ;i' *i \.i>;' --/j j " ' .' ’%‘T ••Ar-* .'j -TC . I ' * >m ’ , .»/> . 111 . moderation, and naturalness or a perfect prose style. What is said here of style is advanced only as having to do witn the externals, or technique of lit- erary composition, — as representing those special circumstances wherein the individual v/riter may vary his practice for tne improvement or debasement of nis prose composition. Due recognition is given to tne fundamental fact that personality is an antecedent condition of style, A _ — s tyle esz 1 * homme meme . jsut in the external sense of style, as represented by Ruskin’s flights of fine writing, by Macaulay’s interminable balance and antithesis, by Carlyle’s deliberate cultivation of a highly individ- ual idiom, — in this sense, Harrison was no stylist, let there are many adiuirable qualities to be found in his writings. A classical education, wide reading, clear thinking, and an invariable preoccupation with tne sub- stance of his discourse,- developed in Harrison a prose style at once clear, direct, uncomplex, and devoid of surplusage. His v/ritings contain a wealth of allusion whicn he handies attractively and effectively in touch- and-go fasnion. Take for example a passage from an essay bait- ing the theologians, in wnich he illustrates tne hetero- geneous character of the sacred v/ritings of the Bible. ’’Imagine that Beov/ulf and some Saxon v/ar songs, Bede's nis tor y, King Alfred’s poems, the Saxon Chronicle, Ancren Riwle , Piers the Plowman, Latimer’s sermons, Knox and fox’s homilies. Lord Byron's ’Cain’, and Carlyle’s ’Sartor Resartus’ were boifnd up in one voluble and dubbed tne Britisn Bible." ^ 1 » The Positive Evolution of Religion. p.l?9. ’It’ WT .‘yrr t >.s^rfiigaK- i«i<^tri»>ij» ‘ »• , '•i "ivY ,,fe.C'.: -: .' S;^l(f 'ffi ,1'., ■-:,i .' * '• • - •' ^ \ itf I *.:vOfh''.i« V *rtif .,v. :":V- ,. ■■ • s 1 '■•*.. f *•* » ^Jjr ' il- ''tl" r V* AjTBiilifV’1^' ' '.' »./.!) . '^* JtA, Jj f # ^ t; , • cJ : L \iU ' i i >^.t , 7 U‘f. tA^‘ . A ’V' txM*' , ft< :‘c:l I u'vy ' -1 .K. ^ „ v J.u,r , ’* '■^'^'5^*5* T£( I. . ^|. ■ ^ . I t^tJj t' f 1 V- ♦ •. i ■ V. ' '■ ..'I. - --.^ . ,. )i « > ' ' •.-PjU ' •• -^STfc ■', *■' 9 > n .iC? .'t,‘.!J /'■ , ■ f'*) ;»;*:•**.■' C/' '*. 0 ; V* i . O'; » ♦ t' fti-'T-.' ■- , :r ■ . * • ♦v-'v rtXr >; ,^/V(i irt o ^:^.T■•, ; •/.»■ '..V: '.w £«>;.■' "cc • ■■ « ~ ' ly i‘* * i' • '^•’j {ub>2 V' — — _ Uj.i ,'V >J l'./' .■ • . tOfl :' fi% -I -A -MV^ Vaf 1 j 4 pli'iit A .. V/ ii> ^ f; .-I. '"•> ;,-i> A:/ ■ ,V . ' :/> ./'fek' /lijas:;' « '■' '• ^jryryv,' ■■■,;■ .!;/■• C'^'i ' ' * : '-'’^■•'.ir'*^— r‘ ■ . - ■• ' ‘ •’; '‘‘i? .^O'V.^I^' ;/ ' ' '“ ilS. In suimaaiiion, may be said of Harrison, bbat his style is alv/ays cultivated, lucid, ancL usually cnaste. But it lachs "tnat last, so desirable touch", that distinct, uniq.ue, individualizing stajnp which Vo etokens genius. Energy witnin the limits or courtesy characterizes nis polemics. Harrison was somewnat or an Arnoldian temper in his catholic appreciation of multirarlous excellence. Unlike Arnold, however, ne displays no riashes of pro- found insignt ; he brings to viev/ no sudden, unsuspected aspects of thougnt, no Hidden recesses in the works he analyzes and expounds. He is, I'lnally, an able, correct, but not original, critic. Late in lire he vjrote "As an old man, I stand by tne old books, the old classics, tne old style". It is a succinct statement or nis arfilia- tions. In announcing his allegiance to the classics, Harrison forrelted, or course, all hope of receiving serious attention from the typically t wentleth century spirits. He is separated from them by the chasm which yawns between contiguous generations. Eor tne discern- ing fev; who will attend to him, he offers the inspiriting example of a generous mind v/hi cn devoted itself for three quarters or a century to the expounding or a noble, impractical ethical religion, wno responded delicately to the achievements in art and letters of nis contemporaries, and enthusiastically to the achievements of the great names of tne past. In short, Frederic Harrison repre- sents for us a mind whicn, v/lthout genius itself, in tne v' 4 til Ml , _ V v^'V''-; : ^ ■■^»s3?r ,-r ■; 'AA jiti 4 j,-« ^3 ^ .:yLr1 'V . n hi. ^ -«.’t^ ‘^Jk - ’i ir ^ ^ ^ k •*> . .1* t i'* V • •, ^ :» /* " -^ ■'. '; ^ -\ '.A >•,/ . ,.f5; >;rv ^ --'.hMft >;>- 1— -fi' ' *.. V '>"J f ' >: iTikM '■ ‘j ^.>'W S-'V fs t' . .i' 1 1> I ■ t ■*'/• I :>i> Y’inif .'to: »' -'«■• • ‘ •■ - ■'*<’ •->• tX tm it 4>5?.V - 1 I ■; .. . ^ it - • ;J;'44 -tultfftTr 5 : , irin "• n|i. .^Tii'uii H . "■■ ■ - f* J * ■*■ i- 4 •Vi i j'O^t^ -« -. :i'.i • JT i '* * r -{ >■■ '»-.- J* '-" • •..“#■ tJ: ^ v^aaStii' - »• ' ' •-. ' * » ♦ ' * im kf Hi. . - '^.0 V^4mr:;c^^::-: ' < ” ■.‘'V' i:':W I '.iittijf 1 ^ % , r.- , *1 ' vv .1 . . c «• ^ V •■» 4 ► • fc'\ it' I r w .i. -.u c . :3 '. ■ ••Til !i..-;S?^”r?i' L - • : 't . i«f i.' X*.^ .•t.tofCi « » i'Afc- ‘ gv*>V‘*' /.bCi?! -I?:' 1 ./ t k ^•{^''^ . v>-i\ *■ ' X , • •• j ‘rfrflcrs^jvr... rti%' ' ''i - . ’ ’’^ - _. .4 •',:? wu 4 *' —fr' -■:. .. *fa ». '.j «'irf* .,; ^jc'. s *■,:.. ;. ijj^ ■ ■' ■ :«> > ' , ■ ^' . ■ , not r. K--a*Tb>,;TiUi'.r4ir^ .j /.•«?* ^ .-ki <-x^od®Ksr> 3ruitA4.^'xii*%OT' 0^ •i */li ‘ V‘t. I ■ , . •’v'^ ’ 1 n‘- ."/>•« J -i- ' ’ / ■•■ • - ., • ^ . . i'.v' j • ’ I r^i i ,“;.i/'s«ntK5«^;fc0A i-.t.v U/i ■y'u AT. •i-h ■Mikz. . >.''' I 'v r'hii'iiii*. ''Viui4^:'' , •'‘iii*: •! 113 divine sense or the word, ye& was aole generously to detect it in others, which, in the breadth and the cent or its interests expressed _in extenso the genius or tne Victorian Age, Finis. 114 Sibliogrcinhy . The Pnilosophy of Cortmionsense. frederic Harrison. H.Y. 1907 The creed of a Layman. Frederic Harrison. H.Y. 1907. The Positive Evolution of Religion. Frederic Harrison. H.Y. 1913. Tennyson, Ruskln, Mill. Frederic Harrison. H.Y. 1900. Studies in Early Victorian Literature. Frederic Harrison, London. 1906. Tneophano. Frederic Harrison. London 1904 Oliver CroimfTell. Frederic Harrison. H.Y. 1894. Realities and Ideals. Frederic Hetrrison. H.l. 1908. On Sociexy. Frederic Harrison. London, 1918. Chatham. Frederic Harrison. London, 1905. Byz&tntine History in the Early Middle Ages. (The Rede Lecture. 1900). Frederic Harrison. London 1900. Among My Books. Frederic Harrison. London. 191S. John Ruskin. Frederic Harrison. I.Y. 1903. Tne Meaning of History. Frederic Harrison. I.Y. 1895, Memories and Thoughts, Frederic Harrison. H.Y. 1906. National and Social Problems. Frederic Harrison. N.Y. 1908 Novissima Verba. Frederic Harrison. London. 1931. Autobiographic Memoirs. Frederic Harrison. 3v. London,1911, The Art of Rodin. Louis V/einberg. N.Y. 1918. The Story of Art Throughout the Ages, S. Reinach. M.Y. 1904 TV f ^,. ■ V 'If^ • Z. .-> i. 'J^ nj .5 Vfi,r /< I*-/ ' ‘ VT jlJi *Jti i':' lO' ^ ...1 • ■■;■-■•„ - •>' ■.' \. . » I ■• • 71 %> /i * . ^ , It ; ‘tcMv, ^ , ?!:.t ■ 11 't' ■- "1 \:trtlXL\\ rf-'* ^ •i. 'i (i* *1 .■.&^ *("j ^ . , --•■•■- -f 'TIM ijii.BP'''^-^' I --'tiW ■■ ' ' n :'xi g ■ ^J I •’• a. Hi • i. ,iiii^';ti¥ -■ u'-ii'i'ra^ 14 ? C/'^l' '.W'T'? ■' ■? ^ 1 i .. »-& '< t) ' 'Mlt j U *3 * ^ * jfc ^ 1 ■* . .. .jaiWj'u; . 4 ..I.U'- It i i, 5 * ■ I ■■ ■ ^, '^.l' ' -Hfii ''S • • >•■ ,f-.'.*r^'. . ■..iv.j, •.!■!, . iii't. Lai'S .•;?*-'*oi m. ’ ■ 4 . • '• “ ^ jJfF 31 . ; u:^ri\r»n' ■ i.. ' . ' ' , . . 1^- ‘ I. ..vV'l* ;.>/j ifix»^3'y 51 y vfr, ! . ' • £, t . *. r ^ . 'r ■ ^1' , ll ? ^ fi .-■•a. ;. "./;• i' ,i -^>U *^; 1 "htSM ' t 1 •*■* ' • ^ --I 'XA > >Ui. «fi, . '. ' i« ! -L' •»• . .. ''"V'j- i ^■'i- '■■'*■''• 'i'v^lFaB . ' ' j g^«"V Y :- -.'tit ' ' ’ . r;^i7 .'JHT. , _ . ■ - . 0:0i: " ' "' U l' >' ?;»,; M j'a -'> r/i^ I ■■■■i:-' .' i- .n\ M £»r • k' • r, '• “ 3 :?. ■' i-' a^-.: Biblioccra-'Dliy » (Continued) . The Hletory of English Rationalisra in the i\fineteenth Century. A.W. Benn. 2v. London. 1906. History of Modern Philosophy. A.V/. Benn. London. 1912. Student's History of Philosophy. A.K. Rogers. H.Y. 1912. Liberalism. L.T. Hoohouse. H.Y, Holt's Home University Library. Magazine Articles . (by Erederic Harrison) . De Senectute. Erederic Harrison. Eortn. 115:881. The Art of Translation. Frederic Harrison. Eorum 65:635 9 pt 2:93 The Davm of a Hew Era. Frederic Harrison. H.Y. Times Current History. The Doom of Germany after the War. H.Y. Times Cur. Hist. 7 pt. 2 359. (criticism, reviews,, and personal sketches of Frederic Harrison ) . Frederic Harrison's Historical Romance. John Morley. 19C 56:571 Y/asnlngton, and other ilmerican addresses, rev. Hation 73:474. Frederic Harrison in America. R of R. 23:558. Our latest critic. Dial 31:9. Tne fireed of a Layman, rev. Liv Age 254:185. A Social Reformer. Morton Luce. 19C 89:117. Frederic Harrison as Critic. Academy 58:27. John Ruskin. rev. Ath 1902, 2:443; Atl 90:709; nation 75:389; Dial 34:146. ,:?; \ M I-* t »« ■-.?| . ’ T3 . , . : %ai| y/ . :^^ZsxMl^ 'Hi ■■; ■ _ ■» ■ , V ,, ' ’ ^•\■^' T*# •. f >OiTjv .Ti: • ' ' ' fJ Br 4 11*-, t , , i * ’ i iiTf v ,iv4»hi ,. ^ , 'vX\.{4. ■» -'*1 ^ '-■ : ■ -■-. ■ , ; ■ Ji'i. ( b'r t* * * V af^f3 '•Bis '-V3, "' ^ ^ i*>. •>f» \ .' ' M ^ j[i/, T. 'j’\ *i' »,-.i‘(\ T*// . ■}j i il ■ '• SS’* " •if! » T *' *?^Vk 'J ' /I*' ;-. •(* 14 ^ n\# 'i O / tu ;m ^ 't -r - ”#1, f • r tti ftt *; ^ , . -. ■ i \y* I IC* nw^y ' V i . ' . i ,' *11. -i - I. •l.'^ *.• ■■ 1-^ .» V/'#'. ■■;■ ■'■■’ ,tH . */ - '■, . ’> > V ■■ U'® / ^ * ''*’ ' ; * W ^ Jl ^ *^iii . i\ ; ; *' '^'-^ . V ^ ■" ■ 'sfl»" — ■■ '-^ . .4 >n‘ 4.A^r4f^'i -'Mil .'ft %> f '-h ■ V. .;!^ •?^" ’■-* ■ •:; s' , • Wt4^A j4 C t^Tl f *lti^ [ ^ ^* 1 )^ Ia, t.- ti , 1 / ^ i t d. •^■- 1 •. ;:-6tlti ;Ci ..;. • ,' , -r • ' - ‘ ■ • '., :'';v^4 " :\ tf / :‘AMr •'.. • v»' - "<:4, *4* V* . ,CK' - ,3' ^ i i M X ■ 1 1 n i « ii ^ i|j w_ i i iii»i _ ii | ^ mi wii' o * » i ^ y |f 1 ^ ij I'ti 1X6 Bibl i ogra-phy . (Continued) . Tennyson, Ruskln, Mill. rev. Nation 70:483; Bookm 11:88 Uew Essays of Erederic Harrison. W.V. Trent. Eoruiri 30:119. linety Years of Memories: an interview with Erederic Harrison. Liv. Age 307:552. Frederic Harrison as critic of Tennyson. Dial 31:311. Harrison's Impressions of America. R of K. 24:77. •• TP 4 ^