CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND GIVEN IN 1891 BY HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE DA 958.N19A3 ""'""''"' ^'*'"'' ^m'ilinm\,imS^,SXSi ^"'^ letters ... 3 1924 028 149 411 Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924028149411 THE LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS THE EIGHT HON. IR JOSEPH NAPIER, Bart. LATE LORD CHANCELLOR OF IRELAND; VICE-CHANCELLOR AND M.P. FOR THE DUBLIN UNIVERSITY ; LL.D., D.C.L., M.R.I.A. AN INTRODUCTION BY HIS DAUGETER. FORMING A SUPPLEMENT TO "THE LIFE." DUBLIN: HODGES, FIGGIS, AND CO, GRAFTON STREET. LONDON ; LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. AND NEW YORK : 15 EAST 16"^ STREET. 1888. W CONTENTS, Introddction, Lettees to Lady Napiek, Letters to Mes. Gaedinek, Letters to Me. Mark Napier, Family Letters, MiscELLAKEODS Letters — including those from Lord Brougham — Earl of Derby — Earl Stanhope — John Buskin — Sir John Taylor Coleridge — Sir Stafford Northcote — Earl Cairns, &o., &c., Beiee Sketch oe the Connection or Sik Joseph Napiee with the College Histoeical Society, ..... PAGE 1 11 16 21 41 68 102 LECTUEES, ESSAYS, AND ADDEESSES. Edmund Burke, ........ 109 William Bedell, . . . . . . . 212 , Address to Dublin Historical and Liteeaey Society, . . 243 Address to Dublin Oratorical and Literary Institute, . . 262 Address to College Historical Society, .... 278 Laboue and Knowledge, ...... 289 Address to Glasgow Young Men's Cheistian Association, . . 317 Lectuee on the Irish Difficulty, . . . . . 339 Opening Aijdress, Dublin Aeteenoon Lectuees, . . . 364 Introductory Lecture on Butler's Analogy, . . . 383 Analysis of Butler's Argument on Presumption against Miracles, 397 The Communion Service of the Church of England and Ireland, 422 Suggestions for Consideration on the Athanasian Creed, . 440 Clerical Subscription Commission : Answer to Dean Milman, . 472 Letter from Archbishop Longley, ..... 495 NOTE. The Publishers regret that, owing to want of space, they have been obliged to omit one or two Lectures, and some other Letters, which would have been most interesting, but would have brought the Volume beyond the prescribed limits. ILLUSTRATIONS. Portrait of Sir Joseph Napier . . . Frontispiece. Coat of Arms of the Napier Family from Window in Gray's Inn Hall . . . .To face page 40 Tlie two folloiving Letters, being of very special interest, are reprinted from " The Life of Sir Joseph Napier." To Right Hon. Benjamin Disraeli, Prime Minister {afterwards Earl of Beaconsfield), concerning the appointment of the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council. Whitehall Gardens, Friday. My dear Mr. Disraeli, I have to express to you my grateful appreciation of the kindness with which you have acted with respect to the arrangement for my taking the vacant seat on the Judicial Committee Council. It is a satisfaction to me to receive this honour from my old political chief, who has always acted towards me with kindly and considerate regard, which I have not forgotten. Your faithful and obliged friend, Joseph Napier. Fro77t Right Hon. B. Disraeli, Prime Mitiister {afterwards Earl OF BEACONSFIELD). Whitehall Gardens, February 6th, 1875. Dear Sir Joseph, I cannot allow the Commission of the Great Seal to terminate in Ireland without offering, on the part of Her Majesty's Government, our thanks for the zeal, industry, and learning with which the Lords' Commission fulfilled the duties of that high office. I shall feel obliged to you if you will convey to your late colleagues this sincere expression of our feelings. I know too well that, in the course of the discharge of these duties, you yourself had to encounter one of those calamities which tend for a time to paralyze both the intellect and the will. I will not pre- sume to offer you consolation, but the sympathy of a true friend may perhaps be accepted. Yours sincerely, B. Disraell ERRATUM. Iiitroductior, page 6, line 7, read'' P^ve and simple "for " pure and single. LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS: INTRODUCTION. With a view to complete the picture of my father's life, it has been advised to publish a selection of his Lectures, Essays, and Letters, in addition to those touched upon in his biography published : for his mental qualities were not con- fined to politics, nor to his profession ; and per- haps some of these records, to those who loved- him best, supply characteristics which made upr the man. To this, then, I gladly agree ; for these documents contain matters of permanent value, for future historical reference for others interested in this epoch of his country's history. After his death, reading various notices of my father, and looking over old letters and pamphlets, the thought was forced upon me that there ought to be given to the world some record of a mind at once so pure and so exalted ; of the life of one who combined in himself the lawyer, statesman, and theologian— in whom ability, industry, and 2 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. high principle were united in so remarkable a degree. Stirring events pass by and are forgotten as the river of life flows on, bearing on its surface what, at the time, seems so great, so eventful, but which becomes, in the distance of years, a speck on the wave, while the principles and faith of those who take part in these events remain, and their phi' losophical meditations survive their intellectual combats, to " fire other minds." No portrait of my father would be complete in these days of burning questions, when emotions are stirred to their depths, and bitter feelings are aroused, if he were not depicted as one who could hold his own principles and opinions firmly, and yet patiently listen to others, and let his " mode- ration be known unto all men." In the rush past of events, often to him too strange, too wonderful, he yet could acknowledge that " The old order changeth, yielding place to new, And God fulfils Himself in many ways." In the morning of his life he was one of a crowd struggling to see and hear, hot and eager, and impatient of all obstacles ; but in the quiet of the afternoon and the calm eventide of life, there was the pause, the breathing time, the looking around on the grandeur and vastness of the scene of God's world of seething humanity. He could see things in God's own light. INTRODUCTION. 3^ " I read, I write, I meditate," he says, sitting in his sunset chamber, " and find as I get older that I get more moderate and better settled in my views. It is a privilege to have it said of me— ' Lenior et melior fis accedente senecta.' " It is very gratifying to know that the biography of my father has had so wide a circulation in England, and that his memory has thus been honoured, even by men who differ from him in religious and political views. Mr. Gladstone writes (as he always honoured my father) — " He (Sir Joseph Napier) cannot but be con- sidered as a man beyond his age. This is, per- haps, the highest praise, but it implies almost a necessity, a stinting of the most precious por-, tions of immediate reward." I regret I have to agree with Lord O'Hagan, that " fame acquired by an Irishman creates no thrill of joy in the hearts of his countrymen," and that " honours accorded to him by every part of the world,, are accepted in that country without response."* This has induced me to publish this second volume ; and with my father's old letters, my mother has put in a few of the many she re- ceived from those in high positions in Church and State, down to one, not less valued, from the humble missionary. ' * Spoken at the unveiling of Burke's Statue, Trinity College, ' Dublin, 1868. 4 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. A curious proof of consanguinity, however distant, is the mysterious one of family resem- blance. My father was always reckoned very Hke the Napier ancestors, of which the following is a remarkable instance :— Once, entering a pub- lisher's in Bond Street, who had worked for Sir W. Napier, he said, " Sir, you need not tell us your name ; you have the Napier face." Nor were mental resemblances wanting. Entering his University at the early age of fifteen, at the end of his first year he published a Paper on "The Binomial Theorem," showing the turn of his mind, which characterized the founder of the family, Baron Napier, of Mer- chistown, inventor of Logarithms. I got a beau- tiful photograph of his bust in India, and sent it to my mother, thinking she would put it in this second volume. My father's mind was essentially legal, and he had a thorough love for his profession. But this could not dim still grander and higher qualities. Those who knew him as I did, thank God, knew the firmness of his faith and the sublimity of his creed. He instilled into his children, from their earliest days, a deep sense of the great things of God : and his Sunday teaching, and other les- sons, retained a never-to-be-forgotten place in their minds, although other influence came in to mould them, and various schools of Christian INTRODUCTION. 5 thought claimed them. Nor did his family ajone absorb this interest; but, like other Lord Chan^ cellors, my father, in his early days, delighted in being a Sunday School Teacher. Work was to him a necessity. When, in after years, his powers were waning, it was beautiful to see the joy that overspread his countenance as he listened to his grandchildren repeating to him the hymns and scriptures he had once taught his own children. His Lectures on Burke and Bedell, and other Essays and Letters, reveal some of the tender parts of his nature — his love of art and poetry, his imaginative faculty. He held it would be a cold and cheerless world if order and beauty, taste and feeHng — if, in a word, all the grace and poetry of life — were exchanged for a selfish and material grossness. The Afternoon Lectures* in which he took part (they were chiefly got up for the benefit of ladies) were prepared with loving care, for he considered that woman should have her place in literature, as well as in the economy of life, and that she- would help to purify and exalt its character. He used to say his favourite books were Butler, Bacon, and Burke ; but he had also a special affection for Wordsworth, saying that his writings supplemented those of Bishop Butler, showing the place of the imaginative faculty in the analy- * See his two Lectures on Literature and Art, 1864. 6 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. sis of the nature of man. Wordsworth's poems were his constant companion during his tours among the English lakes, on one of which he addressed the working-men of Keswick.* He concluded by allusion to the Lake Poets, the profound and gentle Christian poet of Rydal in particular, as the pure and single, the wise and truthful, philosopher. He contrasts the cottage of Rayrigg with the chateau of Voltaire, on the banks of the Lake of Geneva. "Blessed be God," he adds, "whatever be the result of any such comparisons in the rival forms of external nature, your lakes and valleys are not clouded by the gloomy associations which the evil heart of unbelief has in other lands brought down upon nature's loveliness and nature's grandeur." No young man feared to bring his difficulties to him ; he would always listen patiently. His own faith firm and strong, he could yet feel for others who had doubts and fears ; for such it was that he delivered his Lectures on Butler, They have been collected into a volume, two lectures from which are republished in this book.f His endeavour was to reduce the profound philosophy of the great theologian to simplicity, for minds of smaller grasp or leisure. He * See his Lecture on " Labour and Knowledge." f Lectures on Butler's Analogy. Dublin : Hodges, Figgis, & Co, INTRODUCTION. 7 rthreaded his way through the intricacies of the author's argument in a manner that evoked ad- miration and dehght. In the year 1866, his party going out of office, he made, with his family, a tour in the Tyrol and Italy. A little book of Professor Jex Blake's was his vade mecum in visits to picture galleries, and that, also, he has marked. " The Trans- figuration," " The Doubting of Thomas," the ■mighty power of Michael Angelo, " The Cenci" — all these he loved to dwell upon ; of the many he wearied, the few he loved to rest upon. In one place, speaking of a;rt, he says, " We can scarcely be familiar with literature, and not be friendly with art. ' There are ideas,' says Butler, ' which we express by words — order, harmony, proportion, beauty — the furthest re- moved from anything sensual. Now, what is there in these intellectual images, forms, or ideas, which begets that approbation, love, de- light, and even rapture, which is seen in some persons' faces upon having these objects present to their minds ? Mere enthusiasm. Be it what it will, these are objects, works of nature and of art, which all mankind have delight from, quite distinct from their affording gratification :to sensual appetites.' " Much of what he felt and saw during Lis tour 8 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. will be found in the Letters, and also in his Lecture on Bishop Bedell. But let me quote from this Lecture a line or two upon a different subject: — "Godly, well-learned bishops, well- educated and enlightened clergy, an instructed people — in a word, a free Church in a free State — is the sum and substance of the highest policy." Turning from the Lectures to the Letters — the correspondence extends over half a cen- tury — one is reminded of his own words — " Days passed among old letters, though there has been some sweetness in them, yet the sadness has outweighed the sweetness, as most of the writers have been long dead ; weeding one's papers makes the past seem full of ghosts."* How much more must one feel that, when, with filial tread, one ranges through the correspond- ence of a parent passed away. Of the Letters I now publish, some are deeply interesting — to the memory of a husband and father of whom we were justly proud, and as the "Life"t was to the general reader, showing at once the large circle of men of varied emi- nence with whom my father was associated and acquainted, and the wide range of topics with which he was familiar. * See the Lecture on " Old Letters." t Widely circulated and most favourably reviewed. London : Longmans & Co. INTRODUCTION. 9 In arranging former letters for the Life many of them ought to have been inserted, and so now with these, in the supplernent, the difficulty of the task is increased by the fact that my father never dated his letters. Though he could plead the example in this of the eminent Lord Chan- cellor, Lord Lyndhurst, yet one could wish that his usual exactness had not been wanting here. However, some hint of his, or some recollec- tion in his family, has generally supplied the missing note of time. The choice of Lectures has been determined chiefly by the desire to exhibit the various as- pects of the writer's mind and character, and the manifold directions of his intellectual ac- tivity. An unexpected indication of the intrinsic value of what might seem ephemeral utterances, ap- pears in a note in the third volume of Mr Lecky's History of England. Writing on Edmund Burke, the historian says — " Sir Joseph Napier has in- vestigated with great care the circumstances re- lating to the Beaconsfield estate, and to a small property at Clogher, which was also in the Burke family, in a Lecture on ' Edmund Burke,' delivered in Dublin, in 1867, to the Young Men's Christian Association. This Lecture contained several particulars about Burke's pri- vate life which will not be found elsewhere, and lO LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. a very complete answer to some obscure slanders on the subject." My father had a filial affection for his Church and University, and gave the best of his time and efforts to their service. The Guardian ^ays — " The Church of Ireland owes much to Sir Joseph Napier's great legal ability. His forethought and wise and temperate counsels in the reconstruction after its disestablishment are well known and ought never to be forgotten." He was also devoted to the Inns of Court, where he studied ' law ; and the Benchers of Gray's Inn showed their -appreciation of their distinguished alumnus by placing his Coat of Arms in the Memorial Window of their hall. It is next to those of H.R.H. the Duke of Connaught. This volume has been compiled in the hope that it may lead others to look up and around in this everyday world, and, like him, to — " Carry music in their heart, Through dusky lane and wrangling mart ; Plying their daily task with busier feet, Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat." GRACE GARDINER. Rawalpindi, Aj>rt7j i888. LETTERS. LETTERS TO LADY NAPIER. From The Marquis of Salisbury to Lieut.-Colonel W. Macdonald Macdonald. Hatfield, April i6th, 1887. Dear Sir, I am very much obliged to you for the " Life of the Right Hon. Sir Joseph Napier," which you and the General Committee of the National Club have been good enough to send mei I had the honour of his acquaintance to a slight extent when first I entered Parliament, and look back to his memory with deep respect. Yours very truly, Salisbury. From The Marquis of Salisbury, Prime Minister, to Lady Napier. Hatfield House, Hatfield, July ^ist, 1887, Lord Salisbury presents his complimeftts to Lady Napier, and begs to acknowledge, with thanks, her letter and the interesting extracts appended. No one would deal with the history of the Agrarian Question 12 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. in Ireland without recognising the statesmanlike foresight and valuable efforts of Sir Joseph Napier in the early stages of the controversy. If his warnings had been listened to, much subse- quent error and danger would have been avoided. If Sir Joseph Napier's name has not been mentioned re- cently, it is that the measures under discussion have not brought the earlier history of the Agrarian Question into debate. Lord Salisbury remembers that it was freely alluded to in i860 and 1861. From The Right Hon. W. H. Smith, First Lord of the Treasury. Downing St., Whitehall, Ju7ie 2?,th, 1888. Dear Lady Napier, Pray accept my grateful thanks for sending me a copy of " The Life of Sir Joseph Napier." I cherish a very warm regard for his memory, and it is very agreeable indeed to me to possess valuable reminiscences of his useful life. Believe me, dear Lady Napier, Yours very truly, W. H. Smith. From The Archbishop of York to Lady Napier. Bishopthorpe, York, November, 1887. My dear Lady Napier, The Life of your husband is a most interesting book, the record of a noble and beautiful life, of which every part has been devoted to the highest and best objects. I am sure that no one can study it without great advantage. I shall always remember LETTERS TO LADY NAPIER, '' 1 3 with pleasure the intercourse I have had with so excellent a man. This book will perpetuate the recollection of a career and an example that ought not to be forgotten. With every good wish, I am, Ever yours most truly, W. Ebor. From Field-Marshal Lord Napier of Magdala. July ird, 1888. Dear Lady Napier, I am much pleased to learn that in a continuation of "The Life of Sir Joseph Napier" you will give to the world his Lectures, Essays, and Letters, which will throw a valuable light on the history of his time, and on his services to his country and to the Irish Church. Sir Joseph's Life and works cannot be too widely known. In our colonies there must be many who would be much interested in them, especially Irishmen ; and I hope that a copy may find its way to some of the principal libraries of Canada and Australia. Believe me, with much respect, Dear Lady Napier, Yours sincerely, Napier of Magdala. From The Bishop of Winchester. Farnham Castle, February "jth, 1888. My dear Lady Napier, I am much obliged to you for sending me the reviews of the " Life of Sir Joseph Napier," which only do justice to his many good and noble qualities. I have been much interested in read- ing his Life. I had the highest esteem and regard for him, and only regret that ray acquaintance with him and friendship for him 14 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. began so late in his life and in my own too. However, I knew/ him,, probably, in the full ripeness of his character. I was par-' ticularly struck with the union in him of a firm hold of his ownj opinions and a kindly sympathy for those whose opinions he could not approve. Everyone knows that he disliked what is called Ritualism ; yet I remember that when the " Public Worship Act" was passed, which Mr. Disraeli (as he was then) supported in the hope that it would stamp out Ritualism, Sir Joseph ex- pressed to me his apprehension that it would turn the Church Militant into the Church Litigant. The country and the Church are the poorer by the loss of such a man. May I hope that you, my dear madam, poor as a bereaved heart must be, are the , richer in hope from the knowledge he is where we all long to be. Ever, my dear Lady Napier, Most faithfully yours, E. H. WiNTON. ' From The Canon of Winchester. Bournemouth, April 2'^th,\%Zi. '. My dear Lady Napier, It is most kind of you to allow me now to speak of the pre- cious volume you have given me, to my friends. It is to nie intensely interesting. I am reading it with no ordinary pleasure and profit too. Of course I have only got a certain way in the work at pre- sent, but it seems to me well done as far as I have gone. It certainly brings out veify brightly your beloved and ho- noured husband's character and labours and honours. It might have been well if those letters you mention had been inserted from such distinguished men. But there is a gratifying succession of remarks about the eminent labours, which were s6 truly and justly appreciated by some of the greatest men of the time. I think you may fairly dismiss from your kind heart all dis* appointment at the manner in which the Life has been written. : The whole is so honourable, so noble, so pious, and sp highly LETTERS TO LADY NAPIER. 1 5 estimated, that we may well thank God that such a bright ex- ample of all that is good and great has been at length published. I have had much writing to-day about Church matters, and am not very able to write more. We unite in kindest Christian love to you. We often think of you, and wish the choicest blessings for you. Ever your affectionate friend, W. Carus. From The Lord Chancellor of England. House of Lords, S. W., July <)tk, 1888. Dear Lady Napier, I am very heartily obliged to you for your kind letter and present of Sir Joseph Napier's Life. I venture thus to address you, as I have had the honour of being presented to you now more than forty years ago. When I was a boy at Boulogne-sur-mer, you had a daughter born,* whom you desired to call Grace ; but some of the French officials demurred, upon the ground that Grace was not a Christian name recognised by the French law. At that time I had several walks with Sir Joseph, and I was particularly impressed by the kindness with which he, a cele- brated and learned lawyer, conversed with a lad just going to the University. I did meet him once or twice in after life, and none who knew him, even as little as I did, could fail to be struck with his kindly, amiable spirit, as well as by his great learning and wisdom. His is, indeed, a history of which a wife may be proud, and I anticipate much pleasure from reading the volume you have been good enough to send me. I have no doubt it will give me more reason still for admiring one whose memory I have ever held in reverence. Believe me, dear Lady Napier, Faithfully yours, Halsbury. * The daughter born, forty-four years ago, was registered Marie Louise, christened Grace, now Mrs. Gardiner, who has done so well to keep alive her father's, memory. 1 6 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. From The Bishop of Exeter. The Palace, Exeter, March ith, 1888. Dear Lady Napier, I beg to thank you for your kind letter, and the enclosure of your husband's speech on the Sabbath. How delightful for you to know the seeds of truth your hus- band sowed were imperishable. Yours truly, E. H. ExoR. LETTERS TO MRS. GARDINER. From Rev. D. Heron. Muorce, November, 1887. My Dear Mrs. Gardiner, I return, with many thanks, the " Life " of your father. I have read it with the deepest interest. It is a record of a truly beautiful and noble life. I admire the high principles on which, the subject of it invariably acted, and the faithfulness to his convictions of truth and duty which he always evinced. The feature in your father's life which more than any other com- mands my admiration — I might say, my veneration — is his fearless advocacy before the politicians and great men of the world, of the paramount claims, in all cases, of God's Word, and his easy, loving acknowledgment in his speeches and writings of loyalty to the Lord Jesus. Would that this charac- teristic were more seen in the public men of India. You have indeed, you and your children, a rich and noble inheritance in the character and life of such a father. D. Heron, Missionary. LETTERS TO MRS. GARDINER. 17 From The Rev. Teignmouth Shore. Dear Mrs. Gardiner, I regard the Lectures and Essays as valuable in relation to the Biography, because it exhibits a very beautiful aspect of your father's character. I am strongly of opinion that the greater number of theni ought to be preserved, if possible, in a separate volume. > I send herewith a list of those which appear to me to have a distinct interest and value. To attempt to give an abstract of any of these, or a mere running commentary upon them, in preference to reprinting them in extenso, would be, to my mind> a great pity. From Professor {now Sir) William Thomson. The University, Glasgow, February 26t/i, 1883. Dear Madam, I received some time ago, from the Master of Trinity College, Cambridge, your letter of the 23rd of January, and I was on the point of answering it when I received your letter of the 23rd of February, on Saturday last. I had delayed my answer to make some enquiries of my brother. Professor James Thomson, on the subject. I find that we have no memorials left among my father's letters, or otherwise ; but both my brother and I well re- member the name of your father as having often been mentioned to us by our father as one of two or three of the ablest pupils that he had had in Belfast. We think we remember the three nanies of Whiteside, O'Hagan, and Napier, as being the three cleyerest pupils that he had had. I am sorry, however, that I am not able to give you any of the more particular information or memorials that you desired. Believe me, yours faithfully, William Thomson. 1 8 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. From the Right Hon. Spencer Walpole, M.P. 109 Eaton Square, March Ml, 1883. Dear Madam, I am very glad to hear that you are thinking of publishing a short Biography of your excellent father, the late Sir Joseph Napier. His virtues and abilities well deserve such a memorial of him. I only wish I had any letters of his which would help you in the furtherance of so good an object ; but I do not think that I have any at all— certainly none, excepting those of a purely official character. Our intercourse, though constant while Par- liament was sitting, was necessarily interrupted during the recess ; and I do not recollect that we ever carried on anything more than an occasional correspondence. Wishing you well through such an undertaking, I am, dear Madam, Yours very sincerely, S. H. Walpole. From A. J. B. Beresford-Hope, Esq., M.P. Bedgebury Park, Cranbrook. Dear Mks. Gardiner, I am shocked to see that, with a great press of occupations, I must have left your letter — which greatly touched and interested me — so king unanswered. You only do me justice when you say that I loved and re- spected your eminent father. Still I never knevv him so inti- mately as to make me a valuable contributor to your memoir. If the following sentence, as a quotation from a letter of mine, would be of any use to you, pray use it. May I be allowed to offer my testimony to the honour, the sincerity, and the deep religious conscientiousness of Sir Joseph Napier ? The world could appreciate his intellectual capacity, in considering the high dignities which he so worthily filled ; but LETTERS TO MRS. GARDINER. I9 these were only one side of his character. His Church opinions were pronounced, but were always upheld with charity and can- dour, while he was always glad to co-operate with men of differing views. Believe me, dear Madam, Yours very sincerely, A. J. B. Beresford-Hope. From OcTAVius A. Blewitt, Esq. Royal Literary Fund, 7 Adelphi Terrace, W.C, March 22nd, 1883. Dear Madam, Sir Joseph Napier became connected with the Royal Literary Fund in 1852 by becoming a Steward of the Anniversary Dinner of that year, under the presidency of Lord Chief Justice Campbell. I believe he was also present at the Dinners of 1861, '62, '64, '67, and '68. Whenever he was present he was called upon to propose or answer to a toast. For many years after 1852, through my old friend, Mr. White- side, your father corresponded with me on literary subjects, as he mentions in his Lectures ; and also professed great friendship for me, of which I was naturally very proud. He was once elected a member of the Committee, and presided over at least one of their meetings ; but he lost his seat by his inability to attend. Believe me, dear Madam, Yours very truly, OcTAVius A. Blewitt. 20 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. From W. St. J. Wheelhouse, Esq. Pension Chamber, Grafs Inn, February 27M, 1883. Dear Madam, I send you a rough draft of the Coat of Arms now occupying the middle top compartment of the most easterly window in the South Front of Gray's Inn Hall (these windows having, for many years past, been specially reserved for our " great men"). There are six compartments in each window. May I say that you will find him "in very good company"? — though I am sorry to add that Mr. Justice Manisty is the sole now survivor of the six ; — Mr. Justice Manisty being, as I dare say you know, one of the Judges of our Supreme Court in England. If at any time you would like to see whatever we can show you, I shall have very great pleasure in promoting your so doing any day it may suit you to call (say about one p.m.) at Gray's Inn, and asking for the Steward, or Yours sincerely, W. St. J. Wheelhouse. CORRESPONDENCE WITH me; maek napiee, A DISTINGUISHED MEMBER OF THE SCOTCH BAR ; S^tiiff principal of % fflnutttg fionrt; JUDGE. OF DUMFRIES-SHIRE; AUTHOR OF SEVERAL PROFESSIONAL AND LITERARY WORKS;' AN ASSIDUOUS STUDENT OF THE HISTORY OF Hrs COUNTRY; AND (as sir JOSEPH) ' ' A DESCENDANT OF THE NAPIERS OF MERCHISTON. . Merrion Square^ ' Wednesday. Dear Mr. Mark Napier, I hope you got the copy of the Lectures on Butler which , \ forwarded to you. I will send you in a few days what I have written on the disputed chapter — Par): II., chap, ii.— ^and to which I have appended a very able analysis of Butjler's .argument by Mr. Mansel of St. John's College, Oxford. I incline to think that a dissolution of Parliament is not very far off. This, however, is merely my own conjecture. I do not think there is any disposition in the Conservative party to dis- turb Lord Palmerston, although they feel that he has got into his position, and holds his headship of the Liberal party, rather under " false pretences." , . Believe me, most faithfully, Joseph Napier: *C 2 22 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. To the Same. Monday. Dear Mr. Mark Napier, I read the judgments in the Yelverton case as given in the Times. I confess I came to the conclusion that a Scotch fraction and an Irish cypher could not make a unit — much less " a pair." The whole affair is a desecration of marriage, but I am not so confident as to the final decision. There was plainly not a valid Irish marriage, and I confess the leaning of my opinion was, that there was not a good Scotch marriage. But as this depends on a careful consideration of all the facts — which are spread over a wide period — there is room for doubt and difference. I did not confide in her veracity, and would not act on her evidence. He is a grossly sensual and weak man, who was regularly ensnared by the wily " pursuer." I have no sympathy with either of them — both are profligate in morals — and whether they be tied by the law or left loose, has no great interest for me, further than this — that I desire to see the marriage relation saved from desecration. I have a very high opinion of the Lord Justice General, who, I observe, dissents from his brethren, Lord Curriehill and Lord Deas. My head is nearly cracked to-day with clearing off correspon- dence ; so excuse this scrambling scrawl. Mrs. Yelverton (other- wise Longworth) still keeps the House of Lords in fling. I hear that the general impression is against her, and that the judgment will probably be reversed. Westbury's judgment will be racy. Give my very kindest regards to Mrs. Napier. To the Same. — Politics and Social Science. I suppose your Law Term has begun. I am under sentence for an uncertain term, doomed not to labour hard. I leave the work of garrotting to my friends in the House of Commons. I do not know exactly what their tactics are ; but I would suppose that it is not desired to embarrass Lord Palmerston, unless he be the victim of combination and division in his own Cabinet. LETTERS TO MR. MARK NAPIER. 23 I have not yet heard when the Social Science Association, propose to hold their meeting in Edinburgh ; but I hope it will be so arranged as to enable me to avail myself of the kind invi- tation of you and Mrs. Napier, to whom I beg to present my, kind respects. To the Same. On the Scottish Bar and Lord Palmerston. Merrion Square, Wednesday. One of our Fellows here has asked me whether a graduate in Arts, who has attended a Law Class in a College for one Session, can be called as an Advocate to the Scotch Bar, after studying for two Sessions in a Scotch University. This refers to the class of men who are in India who have not been called to the Bar, but wish to qualify for judicial appointments. What is the minimum time within which one of these could be called after entering on his Scotch career, supposing him already to have got a degree in Arts, and to have availed himself of such facilities as ' India affords ? Lord Palmerston seems to have got on admirably. His speeches, &c., were excellent, showing clear good sense, and that thorough sympathy with the public feeling which gives him so much power. But his day is almost setting. After him — " the deluge." To the Same. — A Political Extract. I should not be surprised at a recall early in the year, for my belief is, that the Nemesis is at hand to execute justice on those ' who, by fraud and under false pretences, turned us out, and gave ' us a sermon on " Rest and be thankful." To the Same. — The ''Edinburgh" re Butler. Wemyss Bay, on the Clyde, Tuesday, iZth. I have been reminded of you by reading the "diatribe " in the Edinburgh Review, in which the writer seems to think that 24 " LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. superlative abuse is equivalent to positive evidence. I have not your pamphlet beside me, but I read it very carefully in Dublin, and I do not find that the critic in the Review has fairly met the clear and exhaustive comment in your pamphlet. The real diffi- culty on his side is — to sum up the evidence — to show some proof of a reliable kind on which our belief is to be founded. Instead of which he merely plays on the credulity and the pre- judices of the grievance-mongering section to which he belongs. His admission at the close seems to say he is not able to dis- place the case made by the pamphlet. To Mrs. Mark Napier. Wemyss Bay, Thursday, loth. Dear Mrs. Napier, 1 heard that the article in the Edinburgh Review was written by the Rev. Cunningham of Crieff. Whoever is the writer may be a good scold, but he is a feeble advocate, and his con- clusions are lame and impotent. The criticism in the Courant is very cleverly written ; but I think you need not much disquiet yourself with the Review. If the pamphlet had not cut deep, it would not have been noticed, and if it could be refuted by refer- ence to reasonable proof and by fair argument, it would not have been met by flippant scurrility and appeals to sectarian prejudice and credulity. It is not so easy to part with a pair of martyrs, whose memory had been canonized by the presbytery, and had in honour by the children of the Covenant ; and to rob them of the testimony of Macaulay, or rather to make that testimony valueless, must have been in their eyes the highest form of high treason. People of sense and candour will naturally ask now, Where is the evidence of the martyrdom ? The stream cannot rise above its source, and until some reliable positive proof can be adduced and appealed to, rant and abuse must go for what they are worth and nothing more. Believe me, dear Mrs. Napier, very faithfully, Joseph Napier. LETTERS TO MR. MARK NAPIER. 25 To Mr. Mark Napier. Dear Mr. Mark Napier, I hope Mrs. Napier is now quite well. I presume she is at Portobello, getting the benefit of the sea air, which is far better for her than either London or Edinburgh. I had a busy time in watching the passage of the Subscription Bill, and checkmating the Bishop of Oxford, which I managed effectually at the last. I was enabled to prevent both him and Lord Shaftesbury from interpolating their respective crotchets, and so preserved the moderate and impartial character of the measure free from sectional desecration. Sir Geo. Gray behaved very well, and gave me full scope for securing what I desired. I have not a fault to find with the Act as it now stands. I expect that we shall soon have a stout fight on the question of the Established Church. Ireland, Scotland, Wales, England — that will be the order of attack. If " the rule of three " is to be the test of our policy, we must all go to the wall — put up with universal suffrage and all its consequences. But I am not dis- posed to think that, when we are roused to fight, we shall not have a powerful party in support of our institutions. Commercial prosperity begets selfishness and short-sighted policy — looking merely to a daily balance. It is of the earth, earthy. Men must be reminded that the Church is a Divine institution, and not a branch of the Civil Service. I see you have sent old Black to the right-about. I only wonder how the Lord Advocate escaped. I suppose the Govern- ment influence saved him and the power of patronage. How does your new Lord get on— the former David Muir ? I believe he was a steady, good lawyer, and a highly respectable man in private life. I liked Gordon very much. I spent a most agreeable evening at his house when we visited you in Edinburgh, and it was something to make an evening agreeable to me, who enjoyed the benefits of 6 Ainslie Place, which rather spoiled one for any other mansion. Here I have no news. I am away from the din of every kind of strife and bustle — procul negotiis. I expect my son from circuit on Friday. I ride almost every day with my daughter. 26 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. And I know of nothing to stir me up until the beginning of October, when I have to attend the Church Congress at Norwich, and read a paper on the position of the Irish Church. Awaiting your absolution, and with kindest regards to Mrs. Napier and your daughter, I am, most faithfully, your friend and kinsman, Joseph Napier. To the Same. — Elections in Ireland, &c. Barsby Lodge, Ryde, Tuesday. I was amused on calling in London at a publisher's in Dover Street who had worked for Sir William. When I came in, he said, " Sir, you need not tell me your name ; you have the, Napier face." If I have any of the distinctive lineaments, either of mind or body, of the noble clan of Napier, I am proud of it. Still I remember — " Sed genus, et proavos et quae nan fecimus ipsi vix ea nostra voco." We are pleasantly and peaceably settled after a quiet season in London, but a stirring period in the elections. I went over to Dublin to vote in the city and in the University. On the whole, we have done very well in Ireland. We have considerably more than one-third Conservative — nearly two-thirds Protestant. In two counties we have been beaten by mob violence and terrorism, for we had a majority of electors if free to vote. The tendency generally seems to be to political indolence — a policy by which men may talk Liberalism, wink at Radicals, &c., but keep the Whigs in office, and so range with those who " say and do not." I think that this Parliament is merely pro- visional, because old Pam must soon be shelved, and then parties will gravitate into their natural position. There must be a party of movement and a party of order. I hope the latter may be the stronger. In Scotland I see the commercial element getting into the counties. As men make money in the towns, they build and purchase in the counties. LETTERS TO MR. MARK NAPIER. 27 To the Same. A description of Sir Joseplis fatnily. — Question of right to an old Baronetcy. I have two sons and three daughters, all living and prosperous. My eldest son has been called to the Irish Bar, and is likely to do very well. I have another who is a handsome young oflScer, and has already got his Lieutenancy in the 23rd Royal Welsh Fusiliers. My eldest daughter is married to a son of the Bishop of Meath, and is happily and usefully placed in an attractive glebe and quiet parish. I have two young ladies undisposed of, who are most cherished companions, now that I am compelled to live in freedom without hard labour. I might think of getting the extinct baronetcy revived, but I never thought of a peerage. It was usual in earlier times to make the Lord Chancellor a peer, but this has been discontinued, and I think wisely. Enough to make Na peer an Irish Chan- cellor. To the Same. Merrion Square, Tuesday, 2W1 , 1863. Just as I had finished your pamphlet, I had an attack of ill- ness, from v/hich I am only beginning to recover, and am pro- hibited from any effort or exertion for some time. I had been too continuously occupied with "head-work" — the circulation was disturbed. I lost a good deal of blood, and could not get through any kind of business. So I put all work aside, and now I must not take too much liberty with myself. I read the pamphlet twice. I think it is quite conclusive. It has brought conviction to ray mind fully and clearly. If you have at hand a little work recently published, entitled " Earl Stanhope's Miscellanies," look at two letters of Macaulay, one in pp. 115-16, the other in 125, and note how truly of him it may be said : — " Quam temere in nosniet legem sarcumus iniguam V I had intended to have given you more precisely the view I takfe of the evidence which you adduce, but I must forbear at present, and content myself with giving you the result — that I 28 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. take you to have made out your case ably, clearly, and con- vincingly. I got a letter from the local secretaries as to the Social Science Meeting. I have mislaid it ; but if you know or see any of them, would you say on my behalf, it is my purpose, God permitting me, to attend the meeting ? To the Same. — The Bishop of Oxford. Saturday, wthjtine, 1864. • I will hail your genealogical contribution, which I have for some time been anxious to procure. If you despatch your opponents as successfully as you did in the case of the Wigtown Martyrs, you will have achieved a triumph. I return on Wednesday. I have been contending with and conquering Sam of Oxford, on our Commission, as to subscrip- tion. I wish to avoid the excesses of both Puritan and Prelatist, and abide by the cautious and wise moderation of the Church herself. I have carried my point against him, and have the three Archbishops on my side, and the three Regius Professors of Divinity in Oxford, Cambridge, and Dublin. There is a lull in politics. War would be unpopular. The greed of gain seems to have more influence than the feeling of national honour. Gladstone lost his head, and got into a fog. He will be made use of by the Radicals ; but I doubt if he will be able to place himself at the head of more than a restless section. It is not unlikely that after the Conference there will be an outburst. To the Same. — '^ No leisure for Genealogy" Merrion Square, Tuesday, 20th January, 1865. , I got the books quite safe, and return you many thanks. I have been so busy with various duties at this time that I have no leisure for genealogy, nor do I expect it for some months. LETTERS TO MR. MARK NAPIER. 29 But I hope to make myself master of the materials which you have so kindly supplied, should God spare me in health and strength. What I would wish, if I do not ask too much from you, is to have the proper drawing prepared on paper (coloured) for Gray's Inn, and to forward it direct to the steward, and to have another copy on vellum for myself I leave it in your hands to -secure its exactness and propriety. To the SaMe. Merrion Square,, Tuesday, , 1866. I have had a letter from Lord Chelmsford, which leads me to expect that I may soon hear what is intended as to myself. The Peerage man (Editor of " Debrett ") has written to get the earliest information to have (if possible) in his new volume for next year. I am therefore anxious to know as soon as I can how I really stand on the Napier pedigi'ee. To the Same. Letter about expected honours. Baronetcy, &c. Merrion Square, Thursday, < • , 1866. The Chief Justice has just called to say that he sees they have made four Privy Councillors and two Baronets. I am not in this batch. Newspaper correspondents say I am to be a Baronet and a Privy Councillor. Until I hear from some " lawful authority," I will say nothing more on the subject. Political ingratitude is here proverbial. Well, at all events, I have resources of Which they cannot deprive me ; and — " A man's a man for a' that." I hope all goes on satisfactorily as to the marriage. Of course it must be a trying event to you ; but I most sincerely hope that n the end it may add to your happiness. ■30 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. To the Same. Important Letter on Lord Derby's Leadership, and other topics. Merrion Square, Monday, 12th December, 1866. I returned on Saturday from Nidd Hall, where I spent a few days with Miss Rawson, who is one of your many friends dis- persed throughout the kingdom. I had got Mrs. Napier's letter giving the account of your daughter's " betrothment," and I could readily enter into the feelings of both under the circumstances. For my own part, I am always desirous that such a union as mar- riage should be based on mutual afifection, and without undue influence from other considerations, which, although not to be overlooked, are yet to be regarded as subordinate. I most sin- cerely trust it may turn out happily in every respect, and by increasing the domestic circle, widen the sphere of happiness for you all. I enclose a letter from Mrs. Napier, in which (to use a judicial phrase) I entirely concur, and do most heartily hope we may have you over here with us as proposed. When I got your Mrs. Napier's letter, I was at York ; I sent the substance of it to Brussels ; but, strange to say, it was in one of four letters which I posted at different times after I left Switzerland, none of which were received at the foreign Post Offices by Mrs. Napier. I was " on the whirl " in Yorkshire, and so postponed replies to all my letters until my return here. I am in expectation of hearing about the baronetcy soon. Meanwhile I should be very grateful to you if you would give me some general outline of the Luton Hoo Baronetcy. As I under- stand, it was created by James I. (of England), and has become extinct by forfeiture, or some fatality. My brother (as I believe you know) had some kind of abnormal investigation, which was formally in his favour. It occurred to me that it would be meritorious to revive and restore what was " Napier privilege and property ; " and I think it might lead to a final arrangement if I had the correct abstract of the extinct title. I found everywhere a very kindly appreciation of the line I LETTERS TO MR. MARK NAPIER. 31 took in relieving Lord Derby, and upholding the standard for the administration of justice in Ireland, so far as I could at the time ; but I am bound to say that I think the policy of the Government has been timid and somewhat sneaking, and that it will heat their enemies, and cool their friends. Towards Lord Derby I feel (as I have always felt) a dutiful attachment ; but some of his officials are disposed to a time-serving policy, which never can suit a Conservative party. Their new allies in Ireland will use them, and betray them as may be convenient. I do not think the present Cabinet can last six months, and what may follow is an enigma which I leave for future solution. I doubt very much whether Lord Derby has any desire to leave his present easy position, and yet there is no other head to whom we can look up. He has many fine qualities, and great ability ; but of late he has not, I think, looked after his men as a leader should who desires to keep up his commandership. Our men have been left to drift, when they should have been carefully piloted, and thus have they got on the rocks on more than one occasion. To the Same. On being appointed Vice-Chancellor. Merrion Square, Wednesday, , 1867. I heard of the accession to the clan, and beg to congratulate you on the happy event. I was in Switzerland during the end of August and the greater part of September. I went to St. Montz in the Engadine, high up in the world, where I breathed a pure and bracing air. It is a place singularly adapted to revive me, and I had just had a long and tedious spell in the Jerusalem Chamber on the Ritual Commission. We resume in November. Since I returned I have been appointed to the high and honourable office of, Vice-Chancellor of the University, in the place of Blackburne. Lord Rosse (Chancellor) appointed, with the cordial and general approval of the Provost and leading members of the College. It was settled in summer, but the ill- ness of Lord Rosse delayed the appointment. It has been 32 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. formally executed, and I have been sworn in. I fear we shall soon have to elect a new Chancellor ; but I believe I am not likely to be deposed so long as I choose to hold the office of Vice- Chancellor. The Chancellor's place has never been held by a Commoner, although a Na-peer. If I wished I could have a good support in the Senate, but I think it would not be judicious at present. I am disposed in favour of Lord Cairns. Grace tells me that we are to have the protection of your son-in-law, and the pleasure of your daughter's presence in Dublin at an early date. I shall be truly glad to make his acquaintance, and to renew my former acquaintance with her. If she still inclines to a scamper on horseback, I will be ready to accompany her, at least with as mucli speed as I can manage. I will have a busy week with Dizzy and the Reformers. I hope for the best, but one cannot but feel that the experiment is fearful. May God overrule all for good. We must now try to make the best of it, and there is no use in moping and predicting perils. I have my hands full with the work of two Commissions, and the duties incidental to the new post of Vice-Chancellor. But I like work, and I thank God that I am in good health, and in full force. To Mrs. Mark Napier. The Papers laid before Sir Bernard Burke. Merrion Square, Saturday. My dear Mrs. Napier, Do not trouble him about it, until he is properly able to give attention to such matters. I have had my papers before Sir Bernard Burke, who is our great authority here on pedigree matters, &c. He speaks in very higli terms of the great authority of Mr. Napier in all genealogical matters. Mrs. Napier has been very ill, confined to her room for upwards of a week, and now she begins slowly to recover. iviost faithfully, Joseph Napier. LETTERS TO MR. MARK NAPIER. 33 To Mr. Mark Napier. On his brother's title, used for some years. MefTton Square," Monday. I thought I had mentioned that the proceedings which my brother carried through the Court in Edinburgh, took place about 1843 or 1844. As I am anxious on account of the probable communication from Lord D. before the end of the year, 1 should greatly desire to be able to say who and what I am. To the Same. — Party fears, — On the Baronetcy. Merrion Square, Wednesday, I have not as yet heard from Lord Derby, but I expect a letter soon. If he offers a baronetcy, I should greatly desire to get the old title confirmed by new Letters Patent, rather than have a new creation. I have written to my nephew to get his consent, which I hope to get. May I ask whether, according to the law of Scotland, the finding of the Mercer's jury, as returned to the Court of Chancery, is evidence to support the claim ? Is there no one at Luton Hoo who would give information as to the links of the alleged pedigree, or is there no available means of testing its general accuracy ? I suspect that Lord Russell and Co. will soon make an on- slaught on Lord Derby ; and the leaders are so time-serving, and some of them so timid, that I have little expectation of their holding on. To the Same. On Baronetcy T^eceived from the Queen, f of servicis rendered. Whitehall Gardens, Wednesday, , 1867. I got the official communication from Mr. Streatfield, last night, enclosing the sheet of the Gazette in which the Queen's *D 34 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Warrant is announced. I am placed at the head of the batch of four. So all is right at last. I thought, on the whole, that it was better not to entangle this dignity, conferred for services, with the old baronetcy ; and, therefore, I gave up the territorial addition. It might have been unpleasant for my nephew either to refuse or to allow the assumpr tion of Luton, and I think it is more appropriate, as to this new creation, to give the true and simple addition. I am described in the Patent as " our right trusty and well-beloved councillor, Joseph Napier, of Merrion Square, in the city of Dubhn," I need not say how grateful I am to you for all the inferdsl: you have taken in this and other matters dear to the clan of Napier — one of which I am very proud to be. S. Warren wrote to me, and happily said — " Honours happiest thrive When rather from our acts we them derive Than our foregoers." But I could say, in reply, I am the more happy to claim both from the new and old treasury of honour. I am here for a few days, and return on Saturday. I have just seen MacDonald MacDonald, who gave me a good account ,of you. He is in great deliylu with your gallant son-in-law, to whom, he says, he took a great fancy. Politics are passing into a new stage of transition, so that I feel relieved by being quite free from official obligations. I fear that the experiment to be made in favour of Popery in Ireland, and Democracy in Great Britain, is very perilous. May God defend the right ! With kindest regards to Mrs. Napier, and your daughter. To the Same. Same subject — also disappointment with some party moves. Merrion Square, Monday, , 1867. I was in London when your kind letter arrived. I am much pleased to find that you approve of my adhering to " Merrion 'Square." I thought it mighlf be felt by my nephew as ndt LETTERS TO MR. MARK NAPIER. 35 generous to appropriate Luton Hoo. As Scotland supplies Mercliiston, and England I,uton Loo, it is but fair to give Ire- land a share in the local habitation, as she has in the name. " I am glad to be out of politics. The new regime is devoid of manliness and principle. It takes the colour of the stalk ori which it crawls and the leaf on which it feeds. made such a mess of his department, from lack of plainness and pluck. Wavering, amiable, feeble in purpose, sensitive, and conscien- tious, he was utterly unfit for the office he held. I heard the debate in the Lords on Thursday, and I thought the defence broke down. Cairns could not make it better than Lord Derby had tried and failed to do. To the Same. Shows a family connection with the Napier s of Luton. . Friday. I got the work on Prescriptions, which seems a very solid volume, and must have cost much labour and research in the preparation. I value the gift, and thank you very much for it. ■ It is said that in the event of the Conservatives resuming office, the Duke of Richmond is to be the Viceroy of Ireland. As to the inscription, it must have been put up about 1826 or 1827. My father died in 1830, and was then 74. He put up the stone after he was 70. I think my grandfather, Joseph Napier, died about 181 2. My great-grandfather came from Luton to Ireland. To the Same. References to Scott and feffrey. — Prefers appointment of Trench rather than Stanley to Archbishopric of Dublin. Merrion Square, Saturday. We must not let our good fellowship die out — though I am not apprehensive of forgetting the happy week we spent together in Edinburgh, or the genial hospitality which I met in Ainslie Place. We had a quiet visit at St. Martin's, where I met the 36 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Bishop of St. Andrew's, who seemed a kindly, agreeable man; We had a free conversation, and he sent me afterwards his publication about a United Church. I have set about reading the Life of the old Baron again, and as I proceed, I the more fully appreciate the diligence, the research, and the spirit with which you got it up. I hope you will be able to complete for me the genealogical note of my pedigree ; but take your own time, and do not inconvenience yourself. I merely wish to have it within what we call " a reasonable time." I wrote to Lord Neave, and ventured to ask him for a copy of his song on the Scotch Matrimonial Law, which my son is very anxious to get. I suppose this is a busy time, and that until Term is over I may not hear. I got the resolutions and Corre- spondence about the Speculative and Historical Societies. I have sent copies to the Secretary of the Speculative. The Societies joined in 1783, and cemented the union in 1795. There was a letter signed by Jeffrey as President and Scott as Secretary. It is probable the Speculative Society will print this new matter in an Appendix to the special Report of the Centenary Banquet. We feel somewhat relieved here by the withdrawal of Stanley and the nomination of Dean Trench. I think that, on the whole, the selection is good, and likely to be serviceable to the Irish Church. I hope you found Lady Ruthven in full force. I liked her greatly, she seemed so natural— so full of quick intelligence, and so genial. We look forward with pleasurable anticipation to seeing you and Mrs. Napier, with such of your young people as can accompany you, here on our own soil and in our own home- stead, as soon as convenient. To the Same. " The Claimant^ — On certain clerics and other topics. Merrien Square, Saturday. I left London before I could conveniently answer your kind letter, and also thank you for your interesting volume, which I have added to my book stock as your special gift. I marvelled LETTERS TO MR. MARK NAPIER. 37 (I confess) at your having been softened by the Tichborne traitor, whom I from the first instinctively beUeved to be a " Satanic " impostor. There were a few small things that made an impression that became indelible. But I admit that there were grounds for suspending judgment, so far as this was prac- ticable, and so long also. I hope you find Bournemouth to answer your expectations, and that you are deriving benefit from it. My friend, H. Reeve, our principal officer of the Judicial Committee of Council, has gone there for a fortnight, and puts up at the Hotel (Newlyn's). He is a fine, genial, sensible man, with a highly cultivated mind and a kindly heart — one of the very best specimens of a Whig of the^ old school. I am satisfied you will be much pleased with him, if you come in contact with him. He is merely gone down for a rest and good air — a lucid interval in official work. Public affairs are in a sorry mess. Gladstone's general miis- management has damaged the national prestige sadly. I do not see my way as to the future at all. I hope against hope. I go over on the 22nd April to attend a Conference on the 24th for'* the settlement of the judgment in Bennett's case. These clerics suppose that they have the benefit of clergy, and are above law. I do not much approve of prosecutions by a Company (limited) ; but where there has been wilful violation and defiance of law, I would make the offenders feel that they are sub lege. Our Synod meets here in the next week. We have difficulties to meet that will require discretion and forbearance ; but I am not without hope that we shall be able to pull through. Every man nowadays is a king in his own eyes, and deference is no longer a part of the " grace of life." The shallow and super- ficial are naturally rash and presumptuous, and yet I trust that "truth will prevail" — " adversa rerum immersabilis unda." When you have unemployed leisure and a " currens calamus" at hand, you may be tempted to send me a line to report pro- gress. Meanwhile, with kindest and best regards (in which Lady Napier unites) to you and Mrs. Napier. 38 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. To the Same. Party fears. — Disestablishment and " Reform!' We have no fixed principles upheld and expressed by known political parties. I have been surprised to find how well our men have kept together under Lord Derby ; but when he goes (and he cannot be long at the head), all will be division and confusion. Gladstone seems crazed, and cannot be trusted for a day. has no influence of character, and with no appreciation of the moral and religious elements which are the life and soul of the nation. He will try to follow popular indications, but not to give them sound guidance. The rebels here, if I mistake not, are not to be executed. There is a sympathy for treason amongst the friends of Bright and Co. But I must conclude. Gladstone seems to have given himself over to the Irish priestly party and the English Radicals. They seem resolved on pulling down the Irish Establishment ; then the Scotch will follow ; then in Wales ; and then — when England must look to the support of her local M.P.s against all the others — where is her majority to be found who will stand by the English Church in selfish isolation ? I met the Lord Advocate- We were speaking of the probable effect of the Reform Bill in Scotland and Ireland. He thinks that in Scotland it might be difficult to make matters worse than they are. There is much difference of opinion as to the effect in England. To the Same. — Fragment on the Bennett Case. I have now to work up my comment on the Chancellor's opinion in the Bennett Case, which is vapid, diffuse, illogical, and. tnost likely to do incalculable mischief. I hope, however, to get the matter set right in the end, although I strongly suspect that Bennett will get off. He is likely, I think, to have a majority of the high, the broad, and the secular portion of the Committee. The Government are in extremis. I do not see how they can Stand, unless it be that the want of cohesion and of sufficient popular support is not available. ' LETTERS TO MR. MARK NAPIER. 39 To the Same. " The Bennett Prosecution " rather mischievous than useful. — Fear of Gladstone starting a crusade against National Churches. Folkestone, Tuesday, 1st. For a long time I have been meditating to write to you for auld lang syne. I have been detained by an arbitration between the Postmaster-General and a Railway Company ; I have to act As umpire, and in the interval between the close of the claimant's case and the openiiig of that of the P. M. G., I have come down- here. Lady Napier has been waiting for me, and when free (as I expect to be on Saturday), we leave for Germany. Our Irish Church work requires me to be at my post in Dublin on or before the 4th October. I was indeed grieved to hear of your severe illness, but hope that you may be not only set up again, but re-invigorated. I lead an easy life, with work sufficient to keep me from rusting, but not such as to press on me and wear me. I expect to have to take part in the Bennett Case next November. These prosecutions are rather mischievous than useful. They embitter controversy on subjects, mysterious if not awful, and with which angry controversy should not be associated. Except where things are done with a view to symbolize or signify some special view of doctrine which pleases some and greatly offends others, I incline to think it is safer and wiser not to interfere with liberty of opinion. Liberty of common worship is another matter. The Government have got a well-deserved rebuke from the House of Lords, and I believe that the sound feeling of the country will accord with this vote. Gladstone {mejudice) will end by a crusade against the Na- tional Churches, when next in opposition. I see you expect to have great doings in Edinburgh. The Scott Centenary and the British Association meeting must put you all on your mettle. I look back with pleasure to the happy visit we paid to you and Mrs. Napier on a former occasion, when we were joyously and hospitably received, and spent a week of real festivity, intel.- lectual and social. 40 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. We must live in the hope that we shall have fitting oppor- tunity, not far off, for renewing our friendship and kinship feeling — remembering our common privilege of belonging to the clan Napier, " sans tache." With kindest regards to Mrs. Napier. To the Same. — " This is not your rest!' " This is not your rest," is written upon all things which the contemplative spirit can look upon with the eye of faith. May God direct us and support us, so as to keep us in a plain path of duty. To the Same. Gray's Inns. — Baronetcy. — Opinions worthy to he recorded. Merrion Square, Tuesday, , 1862-3. Within a week or two I got a communication from the Benchers of Gray's Inn, to the effect that they resolved to put up my name and arms, &c., in their hall, with the other judicial and official persons who have been thus commemorated as members of the Inn who have held high places and offices. They request a copy of my armorial bearings, crest, motto, &c. This led me to look over the paper which you so kindly drew up for me some years ago, and the enclosed, of which I did not before know the existence, nor of the tombstone on which the inscription is. It seems to have been put up by my father in memory of my grand- father, for whom I am called Joseph. What my father had in- scribed may be thoroughly trusted, as he was a man of the strictest veracity, and quite incapable of any exaggeration or misstatement. Might I now ask a great favour ? I want to have executed two copies of the motto, crest, and arms, to which I am properly entitled, and which I take to be the " Sans Tache!' the hand and crescent, and the St. Andrew's Cross engrailed, with the four roses (ruby) on the shield. One of these I propose to send to Gray's Inn, the other to keep ; and, as I presume they could be done with exactness in Edinburgh, I will be happy to remit to you, with many thanks, whatever may be the cost of the execution by a competent person under your direction. FAMILY LETTERS. 4 1 To his Wife. Parliamentary. — Lord Brougham. — Speech. — Independence of Judges. I had a very severe attack of cold, and the weather has been close and wet, so that I have got no exercise. Last night I spoke nearly an hour and a-half. But I had a most singularly attentive audience, and was at the close cheered on all sides of the House. Lord John Russell was peculiarly complimentary, and I feel that I have advanced materially a great and useful work. If I had been disposed for mischief, I could have put the Government in an embarrassing minority ; but I have had the full approbation of all the sensible and able men on both sides in the line I adopted. To-morrow evening I must defend the independence of the judges ; and although they did not act generously in 1852, yet I will not allow myself to be influenced by any other feeling than my duty to the country as a Christian senator. I am most anxious to be well prepared for the 21st. The debate will be looked to with deep interest. We had a depu- tation, headed by the Archbishop of Canterbury, Lord Shaftes- bury, myself, Mr. Wigram, Lord Dungannon, and other members of both Houses. We waited on Lord Palmerston on the subject. As I am to take a prominent position in the debate, it is my intention to make diligent preparation, and, the Lord helping me, to do my duty faithfully. There is an invitation for you and C to an evening party at Lord Malmesbury's on Saturday. Everyone asks are you coming over. And indeed, I think, you ought to come, were it only for a month, during some part of the season. 2 o'clock. I had a visit here from Lord Brougham yesterday. He is to present me with other books, and he cheered me on heartily in my Parliamentary course. 42 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. To the Same. Parliamentary. — Church Discipline Bill. — Opinion of ■ Political Life. National Club, Friday. I have had hard and weary work. I did not get to bed untiL two o'clock, after being engaged on a Select Committee, at a con- sultation, and then in the House from six o'clock in the evening. Joey came to me after the consultation. He looks remark- ably well, indeed. I got him under the gallery, and he remained and took tea with me at the House. To-day Captain Baxter takes him down to Windsor, and to-morrow we go into lodgings for the week. Joey has heard at school a dull account of Rhyl ; but I hope you may find it healthful, which is the main thing. To-morrow morning Joey and I are invited to breakfast with Mr. and Mrs. Shirley at ten o'clock. I intend to take him with me to see the Whytes, the Capes, and the Primate. 1 am to be at a second consultation with Sir F. Kelly at three o'clock, and must spend the evening in preparing for the argument on Monday. I fear the English bishops have blown up the Church Discip- line Bill. How I would rejoice to be relieved from the harassing toil of political life. To an Irish Conservative, it is irksome and odious. If he be honest and discreet, he is subjected to so much suspicion and misconstruction ; and if he be a thorough partizan, lie is brought into such nasty collision. Joey's report is very good, and will give you both pleasure and satisfaction. He certainly appears to have been a good boy, and attentive in every branch of his business. To the Same. Your note, &c., has just arrived. I got it on returning from the Levee, where we all were obliged to attend, as the Queen (it is said) notices everyone who neglects attendance when the FAMILY LETTERS. 43 Prince acts for her. She is not able at present to encounter the fatigue, as her confinement approaches. I have had so much correspondence recently, and am so much less equal to it than I used to be. I have been with the Eglintons. Lady Eglinton inquired after you most affectionately. I saw him this morning on busi- ness ; he invited me for to-day, but I had a long invitation for ' Mr. and Mrs. Warner's. He is very anxious about my statement on the 17th, which I hope I will do satisfactorily. The Marquis and Marchioness of Londonderry entertained me on Saturday — a small select party, very friendly and very elegant. Her daughter-in-law. Lady Seaham— a most pleasing, • intelligent person— 1 took to dinner. I went in Court dress, as I had to go to the Levee at ten o'clock that night. Lord Fitzwalter was asking for you this morning. To the Same. — Disraeli's Speech. I Whiiehall Gardens, Tuesday. I postponed writing until I received the parcel which arrived . this morning. We were late in the House. Disraeli made one of his bril- liant displays, and blew up the Government policy most terribly. . I wrote to Mr. Jeffery to use his own discretion in allowing Joey to come up, and only to do so in case his conduct had been quite satisfactory. He came up in high spirits. Lord Clancarty is here, and his son William came from Woolwich, so that thfr two youngsters soon coalesced. Lord Clancarty took the greatest fancy to Joey, and he went back by the early evening train quite happy. I also introduced him to Mr. Powys, who goes out on Saturday to see his nephew, and will take the parcel. Joey is not to come in again until you come over; but on Saturday week I propose to run down and see the arsenal, and take him with me after school on next day. We dine to-day at Mr. Christopher Hamilton's, who is married to a sister of Lord Elgin. He is one of our stout Conservatives, and has an enor-' mous income. . . ; 44 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. To the Same. Indian Mutiny, 1857. — China Question. Monday. I was so wearied on Saturday that I felt the relief of the partial rest of that day and the better rest of yesterday. I was, however, very sorry to be away from home, when Joey and Grace leave you so soon. I hope I may be released before Thursday ; but it is not possible to know before to-morrow night, from the peculiar state of the business, and the Irish Bills, on which my. attendance is a public duty. The news from India is awful. I could not read it without deep emotion. How full of Satanic cruelty are the dark places of the earth ! Oh 1 what a blessed thing to have the light of the Gospel and the preventing grace of God to keep us free from such bondage of sin. I think I never read such awful fiendish villainy. The ferocity of the wildest brute beasts is nothing to the savage cruelties of these Orientals. Every day convinces me how right we were about China. England is now involved in wars with the Eastern world, and God alone knows how it is to end. My belief is they will get a hum- bling, if this course be not stopped. I got Miss Whately's note, and will present the Petition. I think I will get Lord Shaftesbury to present the one for the Lords. I cannot find out any desirable person coming over to the Association to ask to be our guest ; but you might find out from Dr. Lloyd which of the German visitors might be acceptable. Whenever I know my day of departure, I will write. To the Same. National Club, Monday. I had a very calm passage, and found everything in readiness for me here. It is a very comfortable house, with every con- venience. Dr. Whiteside and J. W. went with me last night to the Evening Service at Westminster Abbey, where we heard FAMILY LETTERS : TOUR IN ITALY. 45 Stowell preach an excellent evangelical sermon, though I thought he exaggerated the view of verbal inspiration in a way I cannot accept. In the morning I was at the Temple, where I heard a very clear, instructive, and well-delivered sermon, and a beautiful service. Who should sit within one of me but the Bishop of Ossory ? Neither of us shewed any sign of penitence, and so we separated. There is to be a great debate in the House this evening, which I am going down to hear. To-morrow there is a very special meeting of the Club. It is now quite prosperous and full of members. Every one of my old friends whom I have seen is quite glad to meet me again. At the Commission I met the two Arch- bishops, Sir J. Coleridge, Walpole, our Primate, the Bishop of Oxford, Lord Harrowby, &c., &c., all most civil and glad to have me here. Believe me. Your affectionate J- To his Daughter. Tour in Italy. — Pictures. — Opinions on state of Italy. Tempietta, Rome, January 16th, 1861. My dearest C , The city has much exceeded what I had expected ; it is pro- vided with everything except truth and freedom — though the stranger is not hindered in seeking for himself, and providing for himself. The English church is very tidy and commodious, close to the city gate, but outside ; there are libraries, with a limited collection of English books, but one or two good shops, where very nice books are sold. The shops, generally, are very good ; and the view of the town, from the heights around, most classical, and to me most interesting. But there is a mere mirage of old Rome, and myths of all kinds are current. St. Peter's is truly grand and beautiful ; it grows into gigantic magnificence as the eye becomes trained to appreciate its marvels. But the Colosseum, and the Forum, with its majestic desolation, are to 46 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. rae far more attractive than the " idol's temple," where the knee! is bent before the bronze image of St. Peter. If he were there,: would he not say— " Stand up, I myself also am a man"? 1. enjoy a quiet walk here and there, when I can look on the Scene,- and think on the events of ages gone, and the doings of the; great men of the great Empire of Rome. For the palaces and villas — the pomp and luxury of Roman degeneracy — I have no great £^ciuf, though it is needful to visit some to see pictures of rare excellence. That of Beatrice Cenci,' in the Barberini Palace, is the most truly touching portrait I ever beheld. I could not look on it, I cannot think on it, without; strong and deep emotion. I thought the " Dismissal of Hagar," which I saw at Milan, was tlie perfection of the portraiture of female sorrow; but this of Guido far exceeds it. It is a grief too deep and burning for tears — it is hallowed by its intensity and subdued stillness. A fiice of loveliness, innocence, tenderness^ helplessness, bereavement, you feel as if you could give all the sympathies of your inmost soul to solace this " child of misfor- tune," and weep with her tear for tear — if tears could be shed by eyes sanctified with sorrow, and the sustained agony of her afflic- tion. Oh ! what a world is this if we had not hope in Christ — if sin and suffering were not overshadowed by the great economy which tells us of the glory yet to be revealed — when the creature itself shall be delivered into the liberty of the glory of the children of God. I saw the splendid pictures in the Vatican, which are indeed magnificent. I am inclined to give the palm to Dome' nichino's " Last Communion of St. Jerome." At all events, it bears to be put in competition with Raffael's grandest work — : " The Transfiguration." This Vatican collection is very select and admirable. I do not enjoy a mass of pictures heaped in rooms, or crowded together. I like the few and the excellent, and leave the others to the truants who abound, and muddle away months in this lounge of itinerant life. On Saturday we saw the Catacombs of St. Agnes ; we traverse^ many a passage, with the places of the dead, and the recesses of secret worship, provided by the early Christians, who had to struggle through the difficulties of dark days. There is, I suspect, great tampering with these places, in order to make out argu- jnents for Papal pretences, and to invest with traditional reve-, FAMILY LETTERS : TOUR IN ITALV. 47 ketice the unscriptural practices of a corrupt Church, which has fchanged the truth of God into a lie, and worships the creature rather than the Creator, who must be worshipped in spirit and in truth, and enjoins us to walk hy faith, not by sight. These places, however, have a solemn interest, and it is well to see what we can of early Christianity in its first struggles. Though this place has much to interest, and I would say to ele- vate the mind, it is sad to see such a specimen of " Catholic Christianity." I heard, however, of a Bible being openly exposed for sale ; and as Roman Cathohcs here admit that the people and working clergy of Rome are all for Victor Emmanuel, there is a hope even for Rome. Let the Word of God have free course, and it will yet be glorified. It was indeed joyous to see it openly and freely exposed for sale at Florence and Naples. Piedmont has a free spirit. We propose to leave this on the ,13th for Genoa, and in the next week to be in Turin ; in the next, about the end of February, in Paris. Dear Grace has been ill for a few days with her head, which is very sensitive, and will require to be carefully dealt with. We are very nicely placed here on the Pincian Hill, and everything within easy range. The appearance of the city, in fine weather, is very classical and beautiful, though sombre — perhaps because it is sombre — and with such rich variety of structures, and more than sevenfold undulations. I have been endeavouring to understand the realities of Italy — politically and religiously — so as to judge of its future ; but I have not made up my judgment, nor will I until I visit Turin, and have had a good conference with Sir J. Hudson. At present I am well satisfied with the policy of our Derby Cabinet, which I think Was wise and sound. To-day I dine with Mrs. Monck, widow of the late Bishop of Gloucester. You may remember our meeting them at Chamouni. They come to Rome every winter, and stay until May. All the household go to the reception in the evening. On Friday evening we go to old Lady Lurgan. I have not yet seen the Pope ; but 1 will not be presented to him. I regard him as a usurper, though I believe he is an amiable man. Grace is up, and much better ; and Posie is preparing to ride in Rotten Row .fashion, I will rejoice to head homeward. I am so glad to hear 48 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. of your happiness, and the prosperity of the parish. Give my affectionate regards to PauUis. I write on my own account, so as to leave others no cause for not writing. Ever your affectionate Father. To his Son. Merrion Square, Monday. My dear Willie, Though I did not expect so large a majority against us, I did anticipate a defeat, for I saw that the Budget and Treaty tempted trade and commerce, with all their raammonism. Whiteside's speech seems to have been a very able reply to Bright, though rather more personal than the style of the House usually warrants. It showed both research and readiness ; but he must be in very dull spirits, as I have had not a line from him for a week and more. To the Same. Dunoon, N.B., Monday, %fh , 1856. The scenery around is very beautiful, but the want of horses is severely felt. The steamers are dirty and crowded, so as to be unpleasant. There are, however, some agreeable walks. We went to Arrochar on Thursday, arid walked over the hill to Tarbet, which is on the banks of Loch Lomond (opposite to Ben Lomond), "fhe scenery is most impressive and beautiful. I find the British Association conimences its labours on the 14th September, at Aberdeen. We Will thus have a clear fort- night for seeing Glencoc, Staffa, the Lakes, Inverary, the Tros- sachs, &c., ahd we will be probably a week at Edinburgh. To the Same. — Studies. 1856. Our return to Ambleside enabled us to make acquaintance with Mrs, Arnold and her interesting household at Foxhow. FAMILY LETTERS : TOUR IN ITALY. 49 Certainly we had a most agreeable and instructive tour. I think I now understand much of Wordsworth's pure and profound views ; the study of his life, with the poems, and the views of the scenery, enable one to enter into his gentle and good philosopihy. When you emerge from your Mathematics, I hope to give you some aid in your Ethics ; and then you can begin Jurisprudence. It will be more of a delight than a duty, dear Willie, if I can make you an enlightened jurist. A Nisi Prius buffoon I despise; but a sound and enlightened advocate, skilful and honourable, is well worthy of your highest ambition to attain. I think I can mould your course of study satisfactorily. To the Same. — Fermoy Case. — Disraeli. National Club, Thursday, , 1857. I was deeply grieved to hear of the melancholy fate of young Borough. What a trial of his afflicted parents. May God enable them to sustain this weighty sorrow, and sanctify it to them. I expect to be able to leave this at the farthest on Wednesday evening. I have got over the argument in the Fermoy Case, and the debate on the Abjuration oath. The former awaits the decision of the judges, but it is expected that it will be in my favour. It was considered a great honour to me to be chosen to appear for the Lords, as they were directed to choose from the entire Bar of England and Ireland their own man. There were five counsel against me. Sir F. Thesiger and Sir F. Kelly were heard, and I answered both. There were nine of the judges present, a great many peers, and amongst them the Lord Chan- cellor, Lord Lyndhurst, Lord Campbell, and Lord St, Leonards. I have two long cases here for opinions, several matters in the House of Commons, and an arrear of letters, &c., so that my hands are quite full of business. The weather has been both wet and chill. It is a little more genial to-day. The growl about the peace is heard, though in subdued tones. I think there will be a break-up and a dissolu- tion, and an entire reconstruction of Government, with a view to administrative reforms. Sp. LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Disraeli bolted from us yesterday, and caused much dissatis-, faction amongst our men. We had a good force, and the majority against us was very much smaller than I expected. How do you go on with your T. C. D. studies ? I will be able to let you know on Saturday with as much cer- tainty as God's permission may allow. Give my affectionate love to each and all at home, and believe me, Your ever attached Father. To the Same. TeiHpidta, Rome, \st February, 1861. The post leaves this twice a week. I have deferred writing till I hear from you. I wrote from Florence and from Naples. Your letter from Naples has been, I fear, lost in the execrable post. Here we have been a month. You have been called to the Bar. Gone to London to an office there. I advised you to get the Lord Justice to propose you at the Benchers, and agreed that Whiteside would sign your certificate. It is nearly thirty years since I was called, in 183 1. I began Circuit in the spring of 1832. You will, I hope, begin in 1862, and, on the whole, I think you should prefei" the North-East. I presume you will take, in the first instance, to the Common Law. Judge Hill could give you excellent advice about the best office. There is a capital man, a son of Sir J. T. Coleridge, in very good business. Indeed, there are so many able men, the difficulty is to make a wise selection. The Criminal Law is easily mastered, if you once thoroughly understand the Law of Evidence. The examination of witnesses requires great training, and is only to be learnt by careful practice. You should make yourself well up in the Law of Contracts, and in some of the excellent chapters of Selwyns, then " Prince Broom's Maxims," a most useful book. For Ire- land, the Law of Lanrdlord and Tenant ; but this you can grapple with on your own soil when you return. I think you decided wisely not going to Sessions. A barrister may go anywhere that he may be required for the protection of his client ; but I think that in going to Sessions, he should be careful not to seem to seek FAMILY LETTERS. ST' employment there. I suppose you had no difficulty in framing your Watercourse plaint. The great case on the subject is Mason and Hill in 2nd New. There, I think, the law is clear and intelligible ; the two usual cases are diverting the accustomed flow, and throwing back AA'ater on the wheel. I used to be a great hand at these cases on Circuit ; but Gilmore and Holmes were the best men we had. 2nd February. Rome, Pagan and Imperial, is very grand and very impres- sive. Yesterday I saw the Vatican Library, and some of the choice manuscripts. It is a wonderful place, exhibiting the rarest specimens of human skill in the construction, decoration, and furnishing with learning's treasures. One of the high functionaries of the Chief Court of the Rota has made my acquaintance. He is a very kind and very intelli- gent man — dignified and courteous — speaks English very well, and instinctively fond of Jurisprudence. We talk law and politics. His impression evidently is that Napoleon will, in the end, gain ascendancy in Italy, and have his own " Murat " at Naples. It seems on all sides assumed that Rome will soon be transferred in temporalibus to Piedmont, and that this is the almost universal desire of the people. The fact is the old system is effete and rotten ; but what is to replace it ultimately is the prob- lem, and the course of events has brought Piedmont into the van — though I think it has moved with an ambitious and accele- rated pace, which will meet with the repulse of reaction, though it may not lead back to the old despotism. In the confusion which is yet probable, France looks to profit — Austria shoved out — the Papacy pent in the Vatican — Sardinia dependent on the material aid of French bayonets — and the sympathies of the Latin race and the " Catholic " religion giving to the interven- tion of France the influence of the guiding power. It is obvious, I- think, that there was some secret understanding and arrange- ment at Warsaw, which will shew in the course of the spring ; and I fear our Russell policy is neither worthy of England nor wise in our generation. We will be estranged from the old allies of England, and we make no new friends who can be of any value to us in our European relations. - - ^ 52 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. I have no doubt if you were here you would enjoy it very, much. But it seems to me absurd to talk of the need of spending months to see it. Ancient Rome is one thing, Papal Rome and picture galleries are another. Anyone of energy and observa- tion, in good health, and not a devotee, may get his appetite satis- fied in a fortnight, and his taste gratified in a month ; but to be poking and lounging about churches, and " holy families," and images, and statues, and pictures, and old inscriptions, and broken sculpture, and hearing lying legends and myths, and seeing the tomfooleries which go forward in one cycle of stupid servility, does seem to me to be a mere wasting of human life, and un- worthy of manly minds. I am therefore glad to say that we propose to leave this about the 20th for Genoa, where we will stay a day or two, and thence go to Turin about the zsth. I should think that we will be in Paris in the first week of March, and in London before the end of March. I have had enough of vagrancy. I really must resume my studies, and improve my knowledge of Law and Equity. I have not heard from Ireland, but I observe that in your aunt Whiteside's letters to Anne, she says that in the North they are still pelting me about education. I suppose Drew is at the head of this. Whilst I feel not less attached to the old friends who stood to me faithfully in my public life, I cannot but thoroughly condemn the sinful violation of the Pauline charity, without which all this cry for the Scrip- tures is but sounding brass. I am as friendly as ever I was to the Parochial Schools, where they can be efficiently kept up ; but if the State schools involve nothing against conscience, and provide what the Parochial Schools cannot give to the general population, and do not give even to their own children, then I feel it to be a duty binding on a Christian citizen to make use of this as the best practicable system in those places in. which a better is not available. The Irish clergy are now retiring from the State education of the people, and the Church will gradually cease to be the State institution for education. Will it continue to be the State Church either of or for the people educated ? Here we are on the Pincian Hill. The Seven Hills are diffi- cult to trace out, but they are discoverable. There are very good walks and great gallops over the Campagna. P and J — - both ride, but I do not like to mount the hacks I see here., FAMILY LETTERS. 53 There is a great supply of dowagers and devotees. The eccle- siastics I have met are very courteous to me, and I find nothing in the place which justifies the bigotry by which it is often assailed, as if under an external blight. The people seem quiet, orderly, comfortable — excellent shops, great social intercourse, a most convenient Protestant Church ; and I have not heard any bigotry or intolerance broached in any quarter, or any unchari- table allusion to any form of Protestantism. Still the system of ■government is essentially wrong, and, doubtless, in its inner working, inflicts many a secret injury, as it suppresses all the aspirations of freedom, and the reasonable hopes of human progress. The Appian Way, with its lines of sepulchres and monuments here, is one of the most impressive of all the sights after the Colosseum and the Forum. I have been in two sets of Cata- combs. I think they show clearly how simple was the faith of the early Christians. But there is great obscurity over their history. It is wonderful how obscure all the period of these early struggles is, and how it is buried under legends and lies without end. It is refreshing to turn to the clear page of the Scriptures, to see Paul and Peter in the Acts and their Epistles, rather than to hear the wretched traditions which have been trumped up here about both. Believe me, your affectionate Father. To the Same. — The Lakes of Killarney. Rosanna, Cork, Thursday. We were in time ; but we cut ourselves rather close in start- ing. The day improved as we proceeded, and became fine at last. We arrived safe in Cork, and got a genuine Irish car to bring us out, with a driver who knew everybody, from " the Captain " to the new Bishop, and gave us gossip and information, more Hibemico. 54 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. This place is very beautifully situate. We are on a kind of terrace elevation. The river Lee winds most beautifully through ' the valley beneath, and the city is about three miles towards the ■ sea. We went yesterday to Queenstown — to Passage by train, thence to Queenstown by steamer, and afterwards came up by steamer to the quay of Cork. The town is very smart and extensive, and many pretty seats about it on the sides of the hills. The scenery along the river is very pleasing ; but it has not the grandeur which I had anticipated. There is a want of high mountain, and Cove did not impress me with the extensiveness which the ideal had prefigured to my mind. But, on the whole, it is very fine and very pleasing. We go, God permitting us, to Bandon, Bantry, Glengariffe, Killarney. There is a railway to Bandon, and from that we car it. The weather has kept up, and is bright and beautiful. But that I feel you are better employed, I could heartily wish you were with us. I was so delighted and profited by the admirable conclusion which is now given from a MS. of Dugald Stewart, and published in the new volume. He was a wise, thoughtful, and enlightened man. The law of the association of ideas, and the power of habit, are most admirably turned to a moral account in his valuable suggestions for social and individual improvement. Indeed, this may be learned, with perhaps more study, from the profound views of Butler. I hope you will yet relish both, and not merely appre- ciate their wisdom, but apply it for your own progress. Ever your affectionate Father, To the Same. Description of a Tour in South dnd West of Ireland. Saturday Morning, before breakfasts Friday, i8ih. At ii a.m. C ', P , Lord Radstock, and myself set off on a good " outside," and went direct to J. L 's house, which is very beautifully situate, and from an adjacent hill FAMILY LETTERS; TOUR IN KILLARNEY, &C. 55 of very easy ascent, one of the finest views of the Lower Lake, &c., is had. We were most kindly received — first had a walk in his garden, were regaled with peaches, and then he came as our guide through Muckross. We met Mr. Herbert with Mrs. H., going on a circuit of morning calls. He rebuked me for not writing to inform him of my coming. He arranged to send his grand boat for mother this morning, and bring us all to his beautiful place, which is fit for royalty ; so we expect the royal galley after breakfast to-day. We drove through Muckross, with J. L as outrider; saw the house, which is new and most elegant ; but the old Abbey is more replete with interest from its great antiquity, and having the tombs of the MacCarthymnes and the O'Donoghues, & and as to America, I would implicitly rely on you also. Why has the Athenceum been labouring to malign the memory of Burke? Is there any Warren Hastings sympathy in that quarter ? With reference to Ireland, it is open to show what Burke's -policy was from the first, and how it ought to enlist the MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS. 87 gratitude of one party, and show the other what bitterness and division might have been saved by the adoption then of what Burke saw must in the end be conceded. His views of com- mercial policy, also, and of English connection, and his en- lightened principles of toleration in connection with the most devoted attachment to the Protestant religion and the Established Church. The liOngford Election has thrown us back. It has em- boldened the priestly party, and if the game be played in other places, it may increase our internal divisions, and embitter the connection with England. Sir Robert Peel's impulsive and oifensive speeches have excited great irritation. A Longford, priest was asked — " What did the election cost Major O'Reilly?", His reverence said — " Oh, it didn't cost much — about three rows of pins " 1 However, I am disposed to think the Romish party have made ■ a great mistake in not backing up Italian nationality and spiritual headship. They could then have used the English feeling in aid of " hish Catholicity" and in derogation of Anglicanism in . every form, spiritual and temporal, in Ireland. As the matter stands, they are inflamed to ferocity against the Whigs, whose policy seems Garibaldian in Italy, Shaftesburian in England, Lemon Peelian in Ireland. Ever your old friend, J. Napier. Froifi Sir John Taylor Coleridge. Th& Bar in America.^Our need now " of tJte great, simple, authoritative mind of Butler!' — The Lushington Judgment. HeetKs Court, July 24, 1863. My dear Napier, f Sincere thanks to you for your interesting and kind letter, and the three lectures which followed it. When I look at the subjects you handle, and anticipate how you have performed your task, I • really am ashamed to make you so poor a return as I do by this ■ 88 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. post. But xa.X%fa ■x^pusiioi? — one can only do what one can do — and you must take theni only as evidence that I make such return as I can, and wish it were more worthy. The " Recollections" is an American reprint, I know not where made, but I received some copies, and I send you my last, for the curiosity of the thing. I have always found our cousins there very loyal to English lawyers, from Story downwards. I correspond with some of them on both sides in northern politics, and like them much. I suppose you look at the Quarterly. Some time ago I con- tributed one or two articles on little works regarding the Bar, by Horace Binney, of Philadelphia, which, if you passed over, you may perhaps turn to, not for the sake of what I said, but what I extracted. One paper was really curious, on Washington's Last Address — a judicial examination into the authorship. My hint to you was singularly unneeded, when you can employ yourself in lecturing and examining on Butler. Have you not felt in these distressing controversies how much we want his mind now ? We have clever and learned men in our Universities and on our Episcopal Bench ; but we want the great, simple, authori- tative mind of Butler. I hear (but it is mere rumour) that Lushington's judgment will not be sustained in the Privy Council. The history is curious. My son, who was one of the Bishop of Salisbury's counsel, be- sought him not to begin. He persevered, saying it was a case of conscience with him in regard to his Consecration oath. Lush- ington decided many points against him, a few for him. Then his conscience interfered again. He objects to the Court of Appeal, and though he was compelled to go to it as respond- ent, he would not appeal, and his counsel were compelled to go there with their right hands tied behind them. Yet the Bishop is an excellent, most amiable man, and an admirable administrator of his diocese. Thank you for what you say of my son. Alas ! he has more work cast on him than strength to bear it. His course has been singularly brilliant, and he is now quite in the front rank, by the confession of Bench and Bar. But I am anxious about him. I am now going to our station, in the hope of meeting him and bringing him home for twenty-four hours' rest between two towns on his circuit. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS. 89 I hope some appeal may bring your son over to London, and that John and I may make his acquaintance. I dare say you are intensely interested in his progress. I am sure I have been so, and am, in regard to John's. But I am just now jubilant at a grandson having come out eleventh of 120 candidates for Winchester College — the son of my second daughter, whose husband, an excellent and very able fellow, is Rector of a parish less than six miles from me. I wish, indeed, that the Judicial Committee were opened in Ireland and Scotland. It would be an immense improvement, and it seems to me quite unobjectionable. Moreover, we want help sadly, especially during the Session, when our peers nearly- desert us, excepting Kingsdown, an admirable judge ; and we^ can be little helped by Romilly or Cresswell. Joanna and Fanny Patteson have settled at St. Mary's Church, close to Torquay, in a new house, which they like much ; but the latter is now at Aix-la-Chapelle, taking a course of the baths and water for her health, which is but indifferent. They had resolved before they settled to devote two years to a visit to their brother, the Missionary Bishop at N. Zealand, but he wisely and very unselfishly dissuaded them from coming out. Did you know him ? He is a remarkable person — the delight of his dear father's eyes, who gave him up, however, without a struggle. It was the trial of his life, and so nobly sustained. I must leave off, and remain, with kind remembrance to Mrs. Napier, Most truly yours, J. T. Coleridge. From, the Same. — On Sir Joseph's Chancellorship. 6 Southwick Crescent, Hyde Park. April Tp, i860. It is only just now that I received your very kind note, and the volume of your Reports at the Athenaeum, and I am on my way, as soon as this meeting is over, to Hampshire, to perform the last duty to the remains of a most dear old College friend. 90 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. But I will not delay to thank you most heartily for your kindness. I assure you I value and shall value both very much. I cannot but congratulate you on your having performed your duties as Chancellor with so much good acceptance and so well, and I shall be very glad to see you called to the same duties again. You are not yet what Bethell says he is — conviva istur, and I trust you would sit down again to the Table with a good appetite. I return to London on Wednesday, and after two more meet- ings here, go down to my own home in the far West on Friday, there to stay until compelled to come up again ; that will be, I dare say, before you leave London, and then I will certainly try to see you. I am my son's guest when in town. With kind remembrance to Mrs. Napier. From Sir Stafford Northcote, afterwards Earl of Iddesleigh. Dublin Church Congress. — Fenian Conspiracy. Pynes, Exeter, January 4, 1868. My dear Mr. Napier, It will give me great pleasure to add my name to the list of the Vice-Presidents of the Church Congress, though I cannot foresee whether I am likely to be able to attend it. I trust that we may be spared a Fenian outbreak, though v/e may reckon on a very uneasy and anxious winter. If we can lay hands on the leaders, and keep them when we catch them, I think we may paralyze the conspiracy; but our police system needs some fortifying and perhaps recasting. Believe me, Yours very faithfully, - SxArroRD H. Northcote. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS 91 From Archbishop Longley. Report of Royal Commission. — Irish Church Establishment " doomed." Melsted Rectory, April 14, 1868. Dear Sir Joseph, I was aware of the two alterations you mad? in the copy of our Report ; and I feel no difficulty in giving them my sanction. I entirely approve of the insertion in our Appendix of the Paper you drew up, commenting on Mr. Russell's evidence. If left unconfuted in the instances in which he has fallen into mistakes or overstated his case, our plea would not be so well substantiated. , . As to the Irish Church, I fear the Establishment is doomed — all we can hope for is to save as much of the endowments as possible from the wreck. Believe me, Dear Sir Joseph, Very truly yours, C. T. Cantuar. From Earl Cairns. 2nd May, 1870. My dear Napier, Nothing could be more agreeable to me than to take a part in the centenary of the Historical Society of Trinity College, Dublin; but, alas ! I am tied here by endless engagements every day this week. We have had a delightful winter at Mentone, and are all the better for it. The Land Bill is rather in a mess. I hope myself that it may pass divested of some of its objectionable features; I shall be very glad to see you when you come over. Yours sincerely, : CAIRNS,- , . 92. LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. From Dean Liddell, Vice-chancellor OF Oxford. Invitation to the Deanery. Hollington House, Newbury, September i7,th, 1873. Sir, I understand that you propose being present in Oxford at the " Union " Festival on the 22nd of October. In this case, it will give me great pleasure if you will honour me by becoming my guest on the occasion. I am, Yours very faithfully, W. G. Liddell ( Vice-Chancellor of the University of Oxford). To The Rev. Canon Carus. Macaulay at the Martyr^ Memorial, Oxford. Merrion Square, Thursday. My dear Canon Carus, * * * The anecdote as to Lord Macaulay was suggested by what I saw and heard at Oxford. It occurred in 1853, I think — on the occasion of the great commemoration when Lord Derby was installed as Chancellor. I had the honour of getting an honorary degree in company with Lord Macaulay and others. In moving about the town, I found him at the Martyrs' Monu- ment, and having gone to some other place, and after some interval returned to the hallowed spot, I found him still standing, in a fixed posture and with a staid expression of deep thoughtful- ness. " I could stand here for a day" said he, " thinking of those who suffered and the witness they bore." I am not sure that these were the ipsissima verba — but they were to the same effect. The martyrs — the martyrdom — the testimony — the triumph of truth MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS. 93 and freedom — these were the thoughts, and seemed to keep as if spell-bound the mind of that eminent and accomplished man, as he gazed on the monument with fixed and sustained attention. I got acquainted with him in the House of Commons, and found him very kind ; and from one communication which I had from him, in which he spoke of his " dear friend Wilberforce," I had reason to believe that he was a man who had " the root of the matter " in his heart. I am glad to find you are going to Oxford, to guide and encourage the youthful minds there who may desire to be in- structed. This is a great crisis. From The Earl of St. Germans. In regard to Sir Josephs Bill concerning landlord and tenant. Dover Street, December I2,tlh 1852- Sir, I received on Saturday evening your letter of that day and the papers which accompanied it. I hasten, in reply to your letter, to assure you that I never thought, and consequently never said, either in public or in private, that any of the pro- visions of your Bills for amending the Landlord and Tenant Laws of Ireland had been taken from a Bill framed by Mr. Tighe Hamilton. I spoke indeed of Mr. Hamilton's Bill in the House of Lords on Friday evening ; but I only said that I thought it in many respects preferable to the Bills which had been brought in by the Government. I had not then seen your Bills, and derived all the knowledge of them which I possessed from the statement that you made when you laid them on the table of the House of Commons. Being thus but imperfectly informed as to the provisions of your Bills, I was to blame for instituting a comparison between them and those of Mr. Hamilton's Bills. This, however, was all of which you can complain. I certainly did not accuse you, directly or indirectly, of plagiarism. 94 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. The Times report of what took place in the House of Lords on Friday, which is the only one that I have seen, contains nothing calculated to produce the impression under which your letter was written. Lord Derby's second speech, as there given, distinctly refers to " a charge made in the other House of Parlia- ment." You must, I think, have been misled by a report of the conversation in some other newspaper which I have not seen. The report in the Times is substantially correct, and I therefore beg leave to refer you to it. I regret exceedingly that you should have thought me capable of imputing to you an unhandsome or ungenerous proceeding. I may differ in opinion with you on some political questions ; but no such differences will ever make me unmindful of your title to the respect, esteem, and confidence of all parties. I should as soon have thought of questioning your abilities as your honour. I am much obliged to you for the copies of the Bills, and will not fail to study them with the attention they deserve. You will, perhaps, permit me to .communicate to you any remarks on them that may occur to me. Believe me to be. Sir, Your very faithful servant, St. Germans. From The Right Hon. C. Shaw Lefevre, afterwards Lord Eversley. On his resignation of the Office of Speaker. Eaton Square, March i^th, 1857. Dear Mr. Napier, I am much pressed for time, but 1 cannot delay thanking you for your truly kind and gratifying letter — the more so, as it expresses approbation of that part of my conduct which does not so immediately belong to the ordinary routine of official life, and which I hope to maintain in whatever situation I am placed. I shall quit the Chair of the House of Commons with great MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS. 95 regret, for it has afforded me the privilege of becoming acquainted with yourself and many excellent men for whom I entertain a sincere regard, and whose friendship I shall still hope to retain. Believe me to be, Yours most faithfully, C. S. Lefevre. From The BISHOP OF Ely, Asking Sir Joseph to a Meeting for Anglo-Continental Society. Ely House, Dover Street, W., July i,th, 1865. SiR, I venture to ask a favour, and I trust you will forgive me if I am verj' bold. A meeting of several persons interested in the Italian Mission and Anglo-Continental Society has been arranged for Friday next, at my house. No. 37 Dover Street, Piccadilly (Friday, the 7th). The Archbishop of Dublin, Bishop of Oxford, Sir Roundell Palmer, Lord Ch. Hervey, Archbishop Wordsworth, Archdeacon Bickersteth, Canon Hawkins, Mr. Meyrick, and others have promised to come if possible. Many of us feel that your presence would be very desirable. The difficulty which I feel is that the meeting is to be at dinner at 7.30, and you may think it very impertinent in me to ask you to dine with me. If you will kindly consider it as official, and yyill honour us with your company, we shall all be thankful. I have the honour to be. Your very faithful servant, E. N. Ely. 96 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Frofti the Same. — Same subject. 37 Dover Street, W., July t^th. Many thanks for promising to join our Conference. I very gladly drop official style, but I thought you might naturally think me impertinent for venturing to ask you to dinner. I hope I said Friday, "jth, at 7.30, for I know I had some confusion between Thursday and Friday. From The Right Hon. Henry Reeves. On the work of the Judicial Committee. Privy Council Office, December 2%th, 1868. My dear Sir Joseph, I shall send you by this post the six first cases in our List as it now stands, and I enclose a copy of the List itself, or of what remains of it. These cases all relate to the affairs of one family, and should be read together. They will serve to give you a pretty fair idea of the curious details of Indian life and property, which form the chief business of this tribunal. When the List is reprinted in January, the order of the cases will in some degree be altered, as I shall advance the Common Law cases, in order that they may be heard by a Common Law judge. I have received and read with the greatest interest your paper on Burke, for which I beg to offer you my cordial thanks. I profess myself a very devoted, though humble, student and ad- mirer of your great Edmund, and I have the honour to be the Treasurer of " The Club," which Sir Joshua and Burke founded ; but with all my admiration I cannot deny that Burke's passionate vehemence sometimes overpowered his judgment. Your details about his early life are especially interesting. Believe me. Your faithful servant, Henry Reeves. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS. 97 From Lord John Manners. Dublin Church Congress. — General Uneasiness. Belvoir Castle; Grantham, January ^rd, 1868. Dear Mr. Napier, You are most welcome to enrol me among the Vice-Presidents of the Church Congress to be held at Dublin, which I hope and believe will be eminently successful. I am greatly obliged by your interesting information on the : subject of Fenianism. The Duke of Cambridge, who was to have paid my brother a visit here yesterday, at the last moment felt obliged to remain at his post in London. I never remember so general a feeling of insecurity and alarm. But one result will be the increased efficiency of all our police and internal defensive arrangements. Sincerely reciprocating all your kind wishes for the New Year, Believe me, Yours very faithfully, John Manners. To The Earl of Harrowby. Church Questions. Merrion Square, Saturday. Dear Lord Harrowby, I have directed two copies of the draft Report (as I would frame it) to be sent to you by this day's post. I propose to leave on Monday morning, to pull up at Stafford, and proceed to Sandon. We can talk over matters when wC; meet, but the more I reflect, the more opposed I am to Walpole's, abridgment of the history of subscription, and to the way in which this is used to make up our Report. .: H 98 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. It is not natural nor explanatory ; it does not seem to flow from the regular execution of our commission to consider, alter, and simplify existing forms consistently with the declared agree- ment of the clergy with the doctrines, and conformity to the ritual, of the United Church. I thought the best way was to follow the promptings which led me to construct the new form with the aid of what took place in the conferences of our Commission. What we want is a truthful, natural explanation of the " sim- plified and altered form ;" and to secure this I thought the best way was to give the very reasons by which it was finally com- pleted and adopted. Believe me, Dear Lord Harrowby, Your very faithful, Joseph Napier. From A. J. B. Beresford-Hope, Esq., m.p. Church Parties. January ^rd, 1868. My dear Sir Joseph, I am much flattered at the invitation to become one of the Vice-Presidents of the Dublin Church Congress, and shall have great pleasure in acting as such. You will allow me, as one who cares more for the Irish Church than I fear English churchmen generally do, to add that I accept the position as an earnest that at the Congress (which will be more completely the Irish Church by representation than any gathering has ever before been) the High Church element of the. "United Church" will have fair play, and a favourable hearing. I quite recognise the temptation which may present itself to the. minds of members of the Irish Church, from their daily contact with Romanism, to look with disfavour and sus- picion on High Churchmanship. But as myself personally anxious to maintain your Church, I look on the yielding to that temptation with profound sorrow, conscious as I am that the too prevalent apprehension in England, that the weight of the Irish side of the United Church is somewhat exclusively thrown into MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS. 99 one side of the balance, has tended to an enormous extent to chill the zeal of a great section of the English Church as to its maintenance. I have to thank you very much for the kind tone of your rejoinder to my observations which reached me yesterday. I hope and pray that we may continue to the end to deliberate in the same spirit. It was fortunate that the Dean of Westminster's optional disuse of the initiatory Lord's Prayer in the Communion Service was not pressed. I cannot now give any non-doctrinal alterations more likely to have disgusted the more liturgical sec- tion of the English Church, than one which would seem to place the Communion Service below Morning Prayer, as this would have done, by making the sequence of the two services a reason for abridging the Communion Service. I fully believe that the greater elasticity imported into the use of the Prayer Book, by the now frequent optional division of services (a reform mainly due to High Churchmen), is, and will be, of enormous benefit. But the proposal of the Dean would have been antagonistic to its free working, by inviting the combination of services through the abridgment of that one which was the central and most im- portant act of worship. With all best wishes of the New Year, Believe me. My dear Sir Joseph, Yours very sincerely, A. J. B. Beresford-Hope. From John Ruskin, Esq., to Right Hon. Sir Joseph Napier. Denmark Hill, S., March 21st, 1868. My dear Sir, I cannot at present come out in the evening ; but, With yoar kind permission, I will wait upon you on Tuesday at 12. I fear that I cannot lecture in Ireland— though it is but ^ private sorrow, unconquerable in its associations, that must prevent me. , Ever faithfully and respectfully yours, J. Ruskin. 100 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. From the Same, to Mr. William Napier. Winnington Hall, Northwich, Cheshire, May 26th, 1863. Dear Mr. Napier, I was taken by surprise by your departure with your sister on ivlonday. Had I known you were not going to stay to dinner, I should not have been drawing all the while you were in the garden. But whatever better opportunity I might so have ob- tained, I could not have expressed to you either my own sense, or Joanna's, of all your graceful and pleasant kindness to us, of which since, whenever either of us began to speak, you cut us short with a new story. I will let you have your own way in cutting me short even now, and the rather because I could not easily tell it you, if I were to assume your permission. I have been writing some formal notes, and some difficult ones, to-day, and I am tired, and cannot well put into words the truth of what I want to say of the regard I should have for you, if you cared for it, supposing I were to carry out my (quite earnest) purpose of being much in Ireland. Neither can I at all say what I would fain say to your sister and to Lady Napier — so I must content myself for the moment with so much of newspaper letter as you will care to read to them — to the effect that we crossed yesterday morning over a bright sea, too rough to leave poor Joanna any time of prudent rest on deck ; but the little time she had was made pleasant to her by a shake of the hand from her friend Colonel Clarke, who crossed with us, and to whom she therefore desired me to tell you she had given the message you had taken charge of — not better — but more directly. I find I shall be detained here until Monday next. When you are writing to your father, will you kindly mention this to him, that he may not think I have returned to town without waiting on him ? And with sincere regards to Lady Napier and your sister, Believe me, gratefully yours, J. RUSKIN. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS. loi From Rev. Robert Walsh, to Mrs. Gardiner. The Parsonage, Malahide, Co. Dublin, February 23. Dear Madam, I have received yours of the 21st. I can only say it gives me much pleasure to comply with the request it conveys. The Histori- cal Society owes much to the interest Sir Joseph Napier took in its welfare. He became its President at a time its fortunes were very low ; he saw it become under his presidency what it is now— a flourishing institution. Many a member has been indebted to him for kindly help and counsel, and many a young man of ability and desert found his start in life made easier by Sir Joseph Napier's thought and effort for him. I shall always retain a grateful recollection of your father's kindness to myself, and though I could wish the abler pen of Dr. Chadwick had under- taken what you ask, I esteem it a privilege to have a part, however small, in the work you propose to the memory of a good man I so much respect. Believe me, very faithfully yours, Robert Walsh. BRIEF SKETCH Of the connection of the late Sir f. Napier with the Historical Society, Trinity College, Dublin. THE connection of Sir J. Napier with the Historical Society may be said to have extended over the long period of fifty-eight years. It was begun as a member in the year 1824 ; it was continued as President for twenty- eight years until ended by his death. The Historical Society of Trinity College, Dublin University, was founded for the benefit of the students so long ago as 1770. Indeed, an earlier origin might be claimed for it, in a Society of a somewhat kindred nature, started by Edmund Burke in 1747, and which appears in time to have merged into the Historical Society. The Society was established for the cultivation of History, Oratory, and Composition ; its objects being very similar to those of the Oxford and Cambridge Unions and of the Speculative Society of Edinburgh. Since its foundation it has numbered among its prominent members most of the distinguished Irishmen who have been Graduates of the University of Dublin. It has also been identified with the h story of Ireland in some of the sadder scenes of her story, by the fact that Emmet, Wolfe Tone, and other revolutionary leaders, were members. The Society held its meetings once each week during the portion of the academical year in which the students attended College lectures and examinations. Each session was opened by an address from the Auditor or President usually on a subject connected with History or Oratory. The Auditor held office for one year. He was the most distinguished member of the previous year, and selected because of that by his fellow-members as their chief execu- tive officer. The President was elected for life, or for as BRIEF SKETCH — COLLEGE HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 103 long as he wished to continue President. He generally presided at all important meetings, and was selected, be- cause of former connection with the Society, from amongst those who had attained a high position in professional or political life. At the ordinary weekly meetings a debate took place on some appointed historical, social, or other question. Speakers were nominated on either side, and at the close of the session a gold and a silver medal were awarded to those whom the votes of the members declared were the two best speakers during the session. There were also medals awarded to the highest answerers in his- tory at an annual examination, and to the best essayists on a given subject for an English Composition prize. Besides the inducements thus offered for the promotion of these important elements in a young man's education the Society brought students of various creeds and politics together in social intercourse. It was the beginning of many a life-long friendship ; and in a country where creed and politics are so fruitful in social animosities, it taught many a man " to agree to differ" in a kindly spirit with fellow-members of other ways of thinking. During the later years of his University studies, and the earlier years of his professional life. Sir J. Napier had been a member of the Historical Society, which then carried on the traditions of the University Society. At that time the heads of the University had ostracized it from its natural home, though the students, and many of the Fellows, were members. It held its meetings outside the walls of the University, and independent of her patronage. At a time of great political excitement, the University Governing Body had practically expelled the Society, and it had not yet been re-admitted. Of this ex- tern Historical Society Sir J. Napier was a distinguished member. As Auditor he closed one of its sessions with an Address. His influence and position among his fellow- members showed that they appreciated the talents which were yet to win the coming greater prizes of life. It is probable Sir J. Napier maintained that friendly interest in I04 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. the Society " old " members so often display. The records of the Society naturally contain little information on this subject ; but the interval was not a long one, after which they tell of an active interest, which was continued to the close of his life. In 1843 the Society had been re-admitted within the walls of Trinity College, Dublin. The Provost — Dr. M'Donnell — became its President. Sir J. Napier took an active part in the proceedings of the restored Society. His name is to be frequently found amongst the names of those attending its meetings. He was also frequently one of the appointed speakers of the opening night of the Session. On the resignation of Provost M'Donnell, in 1854, he was unanimously elected by the members as their Presi- dent. On the occasion of the opening night of the first session after his appointment, at the close of the proceed- ings, and after the Auditor had delivered his Address, Sir J. Napier initiated his new relation to the Society by im- pressing on the members the importance of English Com- position as a part of a young man's education. At the request of the Society he consented to print and circulate his speech. He soon showed in even a more practical way his desire to encourage the study of Composition. He instituted an annual prize of books, designated " The Napier Prose Composition Prize," for the best essay on a subject selected and announced by himself some six months previously. In 1859 he substituted for this prize a gold medal of equal value with the medals awarded by the Society for Oratory and History. The first to win a " Napier Gold Medal " was Mr. Edward Gibson, now Lord Ashbourne, and Lord Chancellor of Ireland. The medal excited keen competition : many who won it, or competed for it, are now filling distinguished positions in life. The members knew their President took great pains to bestow it justly, and they appreciated the kindly spirit in which, at the close of the proceedings of the opening night of each session, he announced his decision. His closing speech on this annual occasion became an institution. BRIEF SKETCH — COLLEGE HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 105 During the long period of twenty-nine years, in which he was President, unless prevented by illness or declining health, he never once failed to be at his post. Even the pressure of official or professional duties was never permit- ted to be an excuse. As Lord Chancellor, and in the height of his busy practice at the Bar, he found time to take the chair. The members appreciated their President's loyalty to them. This Annual Opening Meeting of each session was a great occasion. It was nearly always crowded. The Auditor commenced the proceedings with an Address. Resolutions were proposed by appointed speakers : those were always chosen as men of mark — generally former members, who were now filling leading positions in pro- fessional or political life ; but besides they were men selected for their oratorical gifts. It was after these had spoken the President rose to speak. The members knew their President had always something to tell them worth listening to. The interest of the meeting, even at that period of it, was sure once more to rise while the President announced his decision as to his Composition Medal, and gave his reasons, and then reviewed the work of the past session, or spoke upon such topics affecting the welfare of the Society as he thought well to notice. But it was not only on these public occasions the con- nection with the Society as President was faithfully main- tained. Sir J. Napier took a pleasure in promoting the welfare of the members individually. Not a few young men of promise owed their first successful start in life to help he gave, or influence he exerted on their behalf. Members were made welcome when they visited him to consult about their own career, as well as about the con- cerns of the Historical Society. Though the Society is more than a century old, it was necessarily chiefly worked and managed by young men. Youth is not always judi- cious ; and on a few important occasions the members had good reason to feel indebted to the wise guidance of their President, or to his friendly intervention on their behalf with the College authorities. How great the influence of I06 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. the Society over which he thus presided, may be to some extent estimated by the number of distinguished Irishmen who in their College days were leading members of it. The following list is by no means a complete one of those who were either medalists or officers during the twenty-nine years Sir J. Napier was President. Of course, in the nature of the case, the latter half of these twenty- nine years has yet to tell its story, as young men but fifteen years entered on their careers have yet to win suc- cess. The following names, therefore, chiefly belong to the earlierhalf of the period of Sir J. Napier's Presidency : — Rt. Hon. Lord Ashbourne, I,ord Chancellor of Ireland. Rt. Hon. D. R. Plunket, m.p., First Commissioner of Rt. Hon. G. Fitzgibbon, Lord Justice of Appeal. [Works. Rt. Hon. Lord Ardilaun. Very Rev. G. A. Chadwick, d.d., Dean of Armagh. R. O'Shaughnessy, m.p. A. E. Miller, q.c. A. G. RiCHEY, Q.c, late Professor of Feudal and English Law. W. E. H. Lecky, Historian and Essayist. Rev. T. T. Shore, d.d., Chaplain in Ordinary to the Queen. D. H. Madden, q.c, Solicitor-General for Ireland. Ven. H. Stewart, d.d., late Archdeacon of Dromore. Very Rev. A. Daunt, d.d., late Dean of Cork, and Canon of St. Patrick's Cathedral. Anthony Traill, ll.d., f.t.c.d. H. J. Wrixon, Solicitor-General for Victoria. A. Wilson, Judge of High Court of Judicature, Bengal. Rt. Hon. J. Naish, Ex-Lord Chancellor of Ireland. The Society recognised with much regret, in the failing health of their President, the reason why during the few closing years of his life he was unable to continue the active part and interest in its proceedings he had taken for so many years. It retained a grateful recollection of these years of effort and concern in its behalf And on Decem- ber 13th, 1882 — the occasion of its first meeting after his death — it adjourned as a mark of respect to his memory, after having passed a resolution testifying to the eminent services rendered by him as their President for twenty-nine years. LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND ADDRESSES EDMUND BURKE. [A Lecture delivered before the Church of Ireland Young Metis Christian Association, May 28th, 1S62.] OUR country is poor indeed in its public monuments, but rich in its illustrious men. The warrior has his column, and the poet his statue ; but the divine and the statesman — they who have stirred the spirit, purified the feelings, and enlarged the heart of humanity — are yet without honour in this their native city. Ussher has been described by Johnson as " the great luminary of the Irish Church, and a greater " (he added) "no Church could boast of, at least in modern times." Burke he has also described as " the first man everywhere." Sir James Mackintosh has said that " he was the greatest philosopher in practice whom the world ever saw." His wisdom has been incorporated into the learning, his elo- quence into the literature of England. Ussher and Burke were born in the city of Dublin ; they were sons of our time-honoured University ; a bust and a portrait is the homage of their country to these, the wisest and the best of that noble contingent which Ireland has furnished to the service of mankind. The leading facts of the life of Burke, and the general features of his character, are (or, at least, ought to be) known to every educated man. The elaborate and inte- resting biographies of Prior and of Macknight have done much to facilitate the study ; our distinguished country- man, the late Dr. Croly, has illuminated with brilliant no LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. eloquence the political part of his history. Mr. Sergeant Burke has given us an excellent and instructive memoir ; and in the " Dictionary of Universal Biography" there is an admirable and compendious sketch of Burke from the pen of our friend Dr. Waller. Besides these, we have a sketch of the character of Burke by Lord Brougham ; it exhibits the hand of a master — and in many respects, it is worthy not only of the author but of the subject ; but takeft as a whole, it has left the impression on my mind, that it is not impartial, that it is unjust. Mr. Buckle has done greater justice to Burke in a very able sketch in his work on civilization (Vol. I., 414), and there is another of an earlier date and of superior excellence from the pen of a ready writer, the late Mr. Hazlitt, who was induced (as we find from a foot-note), in a lucid interval of candour, to do justice to the character of Burke, when (as he says) he thought he might do this without injuring a cause. (Hazlitt's" Political Essays," p. 361.) Dr. Waller kindly directed my attention to an American publication, " Alli- bone's Dictionary," which contains a valuable article on Burke, in which are collected the comments of distinguished rten ; of those who have placed him in the front rank of genius with Shakspeare and Bacon — those who have com- pared him with Cicero — and those who have regarded him as of genius altogether unrivalled ; exhibiting the rarest and finest combination of intellect and imagination, of wisdom and eloquence, that has ever been brought into the service of the State. This comprehensive and elaborate article concludes by pronouncing that " so long as virtue shall be beloved, wisdom revered, or genius admired, so long will the memory of this illustrious exemplar of all be fresh in the world's history, for human nature has too much interest in the preservation of such a character, ever to permit the name of Edmund Burke to perish from the earth." When His Excellency the Lord Lieutenant auspiciously suggested on a late occasion in this Hall, that the time had EDMUND BURKE. Ill arrived for a national tribute to the memory of Burke, it revived a hope which I had cherished for years, of having a national memorial. I thought I might help by an Address to give it an impulse. This has brought me before you. Whilst I appeal to the generous hearts of all classes of my countrymen, I rejoice to find that the good work has been already begun by Mr. Gaskin and his fellow-labourers, who deserve to be successful. I desire on this occasion especially to address the young men of this Association, whilst I endeavour to unfold the character, rather than narrate the life of Edmund Burke. A tale of sixty-eight eventful years cannot be fitly told from any platform in an evening lecture. I will be satisfied if I excite some of you to the patient study---encourage any of you to a thoughtful analysis and contemplation of his character. It cannot otherwise be appreciated. The most exact model of the Cathedral of St. Peter at Rome could no more give you an adequate conception of the real magnificence of that gorgeous temple, than the most faithful outline of the character of Burke could convey a suitable impression of his colossal grandeur. The mind must be gradually pre- pared and expanded by repeated study and reflection. The family of Burke is a branch from the ancient stem of DeBurgh. Richard, a respectable solicitor, about the year 1725, married Mary Nagle, of Ballyduffe, daughter of Patrick Nagle, who was descended from Sir Richard Nagle, Attorney-General for Ireland in the time of James II., and whose family was connected by marriage with that of Edmund Spenser, the poet. Edmund Burke was the second son of Richard. In his published correspondence, he writes of the 12th January, 1775, as the anniversary of his birth-day. In another letter (2Sth February, 1767), addressed to the Lord Mayor, Dublin is designated " my native city." In the books of Trinity College, there is the usual record, to which he was a party ; it was made at the time of his entrance in the month of April, 1744, and he is described In it as having been born in Dublin, and as 112 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. then in the sixteenth year of his age. On the mural tablet at Beaconsfield, where he was buried, he is described as aged tiy ear s,yN\Me.n he died on the gth July, 1797. The change in the calendar began with the ist January, 1752. Taking this change into account, we find that the 1st Jan- uary, 1728 (old style) must have been his birth-day. When he entered college, the year began in March. The Janu- ary immediately before his entrance was at the end of 1743 ; in April he had entered on his sixteenth year, which would be completed on the ist of January, 1744; if so, he was born in January, 1728. In July, 1797, he was aged 6Z years, and allowing for the change as to January, which began with 1752, this leads also to the conclusion that he was born in 1728. He has fixed the day as 12th January (new style) — i.e., ist January (old style) — he was 68 on the 12th January, 1797 — i.e., 1st January, 1796 (old style). I cannot find any reliable statement which may not be reconciled with this account of the time and place of his birth. I have not been able to find any registry of his baptism, though the most diligent search has been made in the diocese of Cork, and in Dublin by my friend Mr. Monahan, in whose parish of St. Michan's; Richard Burke, the father, resided for several years. We have traced him in the applotment books, which seem to have been most carefully kept, and from 1735 to 1746 inclusive, he is de- scribed as the rated occupier of the house on Arran Quay, with the number 7 prefixed. The applotment for the years immediately preceding 1735 is not forthcoming; but in 1747, the house seems to have passed into the hands of a Counsellor Dillon, and Richard Burke then appears as the occupier of No. 3 Ormond Quay (afterward3 No. s) — and there he made his will, and there he died. It appears by his will, that several of his children, who had died young, were buried in St. James's churchyard ; but there is no registry in the parish of St. James, of an earlier date than 1742 — otherwise the baptism of Edmund might probably have been discovered there. An old house, now No. 7 Arran EDMUND BURKE. II3- Quay, is on the same side with the Four Courts, from which it is not far distant. It is not indeed quite certain that we can at this time identify the house, or that it is now in existence ; great changes have taken place in the locality, and some of the buildings, perhaps all the numbers, are of modern date. St. Michan's parish, however, did not then, nor does it now, extend westward beyond Arran Lane, and therefore we are able to make a nearer approach to the classic spot, than has yet been suggested. Edmund Burke had, when a child, a delicate constitution, and was sent at an early age to the residence of his mother's family at Ballyduffe in the County of Cork. They were members of the Roman Catholic Church, and appear to have been warm-hearted and affectionate in their treatment of their young relative, who in after life has referred to these happy days of his childhood, with a tenderness and simplicity which impart a charm and a grace to his elevated and generous nature. Several of his letters to the Nagle family have been published in the XlVth and XVIth vols, of the New Monthly Magazine.* No one who desires to study the character of Burke should omit to read these letters. They are full of interest. Near to the district, in which was the home of his child- hood, was the ancient castle of Kilcolman, the residence of Edmund Spenser. Here he was visited by Raleigh, whom Spenser called the Shepherd of the Ocean ; here he com-. : posed the first three books of the Faerie Queen. Spenser describes himself as " keeping his flock under the foot of the "mountain Mole ; among the cool shades of green alders, by the shore of Mulla, and tuning his oaten pipe, as was his custom, to his fellow-shepherd swains." We may well suppose that the impressible nature of the ' young Edmund Burke must have been soon influenced by the associations which were bound up with the names of; • Vol. XIV.,pp. 380,453. 529;. Vol. XVI., p. .153. .1 114 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Spenser and Raleigh. The historic ruin, the stately flow of the Blackwater, beautiful and abounding ; the tale of Raleigh, the maritime hero who prepared the way for colonizing distant regions of the earth — the memory of Spenser, the poet of nature and the friend of virtue — these must have kindled the genius and fed the imagination which was left to expand in its native luxuriance. Here may have been dropped into his youthful bosom the seed of that living interest in human destiny and progress which afterwards impelled him to the noblest efforts of his maturer years. He had a mission of which he was then unconscious — a preparation which he knew not of For the manly exercises of youth, he was disqualified by his delicacy of constitution. This threw him inward upon himself : he was gentle and thoughtful ; his books were the more precious, sympathy the more grateful. In the month of May, 1741, he was sent, with his elder brother Garret and his younger brother Richard, to school at Balli- tore ; it was kept by a worthy Englishman, Abraham Shackleton, a member of the Society of Friends. He learned there, amongst other things, the ordinary classics ; and he was daily instructed in the Holy Scriptures, by that excellent man, who added the rare but impressive com- mentary of a consistent example of pure and practical benevolence, in himself and his household. The favourite friend and companion of Burke at school was Richard Shackleton, son of his master. Richard, who was a few years older, has given a description of him in these words : " Edmund was a lad of most promising genius ; of an inquisitive and speculative cast of mind, which was im- proved in him by a constitutional indisposition that pre- vented him from suffering by those secessions from study, which are the consequence of puerile diversions. He read much while he was a boy, and accumulated a stock of learning of great variety. His memory was extensive ; his judgment early ripe. He would find in his own mind, in reasoning and comparing in himself, such a fund of enter- EDMUND BURKE. IIS tainment that he seemed not at all to regret his hours of solitude ; yet he was affable, free, and communicative, as ready to teach as to learn. He made the reading of the classics his diversion rather than his business. He was particularly delighted with history and poetry, and while at school performed several exercises in the latter with a manly grace." In a very interesting work which has just been published, the " Leadbeater Papers," you will find many pleasant details of the school at Ballitore and of Edmund Burke's connection with it. It has been published by a granddaughter of Richard Shackleton ; the annals were drawn up by his daughter Mary Leadbeater, and there are sixty-four letters of the young Edmund to his friend Richard. " My father," says Mrs. Leadbeater, " used to delight in detailing instances of Burke's singular aptitude, and how he soon attained a superior station among his school-fellows, many of whom he readily assisted in their exercises. He showed thus early his capacity for exerting bis abilities on a sudden emergency, and of turning the ideas of others to useful account. The boys of the school had got leave to go to Athy to see the judges of assize enter the county town ; the condition of the leave was that each of the senior lads should write a description of the spectacle in Latin verse. Burke soon finished his task ; but another lad of duller capacity, who tried in vain at verses, earnestly appealed to Edmund to help him, remind- ing him how often he had helped him before, but this was the hardest task he ever got. Burke asked him, what had struck him as most remarkable in the procession, and was told in reply, that he saw nothing remarkable except a fat piper in a brown coat. Immediately he commenced, and spon completed a humorous poem in doggrel Latin. It began thus— ' Piper erat fattus, qui brownum tegmeh habebat.' " Mrs. Leadbeater describes him as then full of genial humour, and with an instinctive and invincible, hatred ta I-I^ LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. oppression. A cabin, which was too near the highway, had' been ordered by the surveyor of roads to be pulled down, and when the young Edmund saw the melancholy task performed by the unwilling occupant, he observed with great indignation, that if he were in authority such tyranny should never be exercised with impunity over the defence- less. He urged his schoolfellows to join in rebuilding the cottage ; but this was stopped by Abraham Shackleton. I cannot find that before he went to this school, he had got what might be called regular instruction, or been sub- jected to any proper school discipline. It may be that his own eloquent words, in speaking of America, are not in- applicable to his own case : — " Through a wise and salutary neglect, a generous nature has been suffered to take her own way to perfection." The very first of the letters to Richard Shackleton, now published in the " Leadbeater Papers," is one of April, 1744, describing his arrival in Dublin from Ballitore, after twelve o'clock at night, and how he was sent on the very next morning, after breakfast, to " Trinity College, near Dublin," as he describes it. He gives the details of the examination for entrance, and his introduction to the Provost, " an old sickly-looking man." " I cannot express," he says, " nor have I the knack of ■ doing it, how much I am obliged to your father for the extraordinary pains and care he has taken with me, so-as^ to merit the commendation of my tutor, and all I can do is tx) behave myself, so as not to bring a scandal on him or his school." This letter is addressed to " Dear Dicky," atid- signed " Ned Burke." In the next he gives an account of' the course of study in his first year : nine first chapters of- Burgersdicius, the six last iEneids of Virgil, the Enchiridion; of Epictetus, with the Tabula Cebetis, which he Says his tutor recommended as a very fine picture of "human Ufe:- " Though the- course of study which then obtained there," says Richard Shackleton, " was not at all adapted to his taste, yet he went through his College exercises with repu- tation and Success, atid seems to have extracted from every- EDMUND Burke. iij' science -Cvhatever was firie and useful in it, leaving th? "rest to the mere scholars and pedants." This, perhaps, is rathe^ too general ; with the aid of Dr. Carson, I Jiave been enabled to be more precise. . . . . ) In Trinity Term of this year, 1744, the thanks of th(j House are recorded as having been given to him for dili- gence at Greek Lecture. But I do not find any other evidence at this time of a close attention to his ^Collegl course. His letters to his friend Richard are genial and natural ; he discusses in one the case of a young marl crossed in love, who poisoned himself with arsenic.- Hi describes him as a clerk of an acquaintance of his father, " a lad untainted in his character with any sort of crime, and universally beloved by all that knew him." " This accident," he says, "has altered my sentiments concerning love, s6 that I am not only convinced that there is such a thing as love, but that it may very probably be the source of ai many misfortunes as are usually ascribed to it. This may, I think, be a sufficient example to show to what lengths ah unrestrained passion, though virtuous in itself, may carry a man, and with how much craft and subtlety our great enemy endeavours to work our destruction." It would seem that about this time Richard had wisely begun to im- press upon him the importance of diligence at his studies For immediately after the October examination a most interesting letter (i 5th October, 1744) was written by Burke, acknowledging the value and the need of diligence. " I know what is good, like the Athenians," says he, " but don't practise it, like the Lacedaemonians." He acknowledged that he is disposed to be restless and desultory. " I am too giddy ; this is the bane of my life ; it hurries me froni my studies to trifles, and I am afraid it will hinder me froni knowing anything thoroughly. I have a superficial know- ledge of many things, but scarce the bottom of any." The remarkable part of this letter is that which was intended as a reply to the distinctive views of Christianity which ^chard Shackleton had pressed upon him. This is takeii Il8 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. up again in another letter of the ist November, 1744, which is published in the FitzwilHam Volumes ; I will add the extracts from these letters in an Appendix. Remembering that they are the production of a youth not yet sixteen years of age, whose childhood had been spent with his Roman Catholic relatives, and his boyhood at Ballitore, they are not a little remarkable. In another letter of January, he gives a description of his daily life in verse, in order, as he says, that he might lay out what ornaments he could spare on a subject in itself dry and barren. As to his studies in the College, he says — " But here the muse nor can nor will declare What is my work, and what my studies there." I suspect that they were desultory — that he drifted away into general reading, going with the current of his own inclination. I cannot delay on many of these letters, but they will repay with instruction, if not with delight, your attentive perusal. They show the growing energy of his intellect, the increase of his general knowledge, and the genial goodness of his heart. There is a happy one of July 4th, 1 745, written to tell Richard Shackleton that he had at last taken his advice as to diligence, and had succeeded, as Richard foretold. "This day's judgments," he says, " were given out for last examinations, and I have got the premium in my division, and perhaps would have answered better than I did, had we not had Wilder for our examiner. Please to acquaint your father with this, for I am persuaded that as my improvement while under his care gave him pleasure, it will continue to do so, though I am not imme- diately so at present, and that this account won't be disa- greeable. I'll either choose the Modern History, or the Spectator and Rollin." He means, of course, his choice of books for his premium. The ambition of authorship seems soon after to have seized upon him ; he made some ac- quaintances, whose talents and taste encouraged this — especially his friend Dennis, who had published a paper— EDMUND BURKE. 119 Brutus's Letter to the Town — relative to a theatrical quarrel, in which the College men took a conspicuous part. But there was not much encouragement for authorship in Dublin at this period. The public had no sort of literary curiosity, " for " (says he) " books either in prose or verse seldom enter the conver- sation of even people of fortune, and those who have leisure enough ; so that an author's first cries cannot be heard, but he is stifled in his birth." In May, 1746, he went in for Scholarship. He was examined, as he says, for two days in all the Roman and Greek authors of note, and was asked by Dr. Foster (who examined him in Catiline's speech in Sallust) from whose school he came. He was elected a Scholar of the House, and at the end of July he revisited his friends at Ballyduffe. It may be doubtful whether he had a preference for the classics from his own taste, and the course of his preparation at Ballitore, or that the meagre and antiquated curriculum of science in the university at that time, did not attract or stimulate his faculties, or afford scope for their due development. But I can well conceive how he would have luxuriated as a student in the rich philosophy of Bacon, in the living pages of Locke and of Butler ; how he would have relished the admirable Dugald Stewart. There is a disquisition on the course and method of classical instruction, in reply to his friend Richard, writ- ten from Ballyduffe at the close of July, 1746, which shows that he had made good progress in classical knowledge and in the science of classical teaching. As the premiums were then given for general answering in classics and science combined, and the curriculum of science was quite unsuited to a mind of such grasp and energy, we may not be sur- prised that he had not gained more College honours. The science course was rather adopted to force him into other lines of reading, and so he took to poetry, history, and literature. He now begins to speak of his "favourite, Shakspeare." Pope, Addison, and Cowley had already been mastered. I.20 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Before he had left College for Ballyduffe, after he had got his Scholarship, he had found the means of gratifying the taste which now began to develop itself freely. As i Scholar of the House, he had free access to the Library. In the middle of July he writes : " I have got a good many new acquaintances, and some odd too, whose characters may divert us when we meet. Quicquid agunt homines— votum, timor, ira, voluptas, guadia, discursus, nostrae sunt deliciffi. i spend three hours almost every day in thfe public library, where there is a fine collection of books— ^ the best way in the world of killing thought. As for other studies, I am deep in metaphysics and poetry. I have read some history. I am endeavouring to get a little into the accounts of this our own poor country." Doubtr less he was then reading Ussher, of whose researches into Irish history he makes profitable use in his writings on Ireland. The effect of this access to the Library, however, was injurious to mental discipline. In fact, there are various forms of dissipation ; it may be intellectual, aye, even reli- gious, as well as sensual ; in each and all we drift when we ought to steer. In a letter of 19th August, 1746, he speaks of an indolence that had possessed him to such a degree, as to have been lost to himself and his friends. It is not improbable that it was to this period of his life that he afterwards referred, in a conversation with Charles Butler, as mentioned in the Reminiscences. " Mr. Burke once mentioned to the Reminiscent, that at one time, for want of a distinct object to which he might direct his studies, his mind became perfectly inactive, and reading was an unpleasant exercise to him. He accounted for it by sup- posing, that after the first years of youth are passed the mind requires more substantial food than mere reading, so that to call forth literary application it is necessary to superadd the stimulus of an ardent wish to attain a par^ ticular object, to the attainment of which literary exertion will conduce and therefore pleases. He observed that, for the want of such an object, the generality of. those who ,; -- ■ E-DMUND BURKE. • 12:1 "have'distifiguished themselves in their youthful studies, fall into an idle, desultory reading which ends in nothing." In the following March he announces that he began to ■shake off idleness. For some time previous nothing would tgo down with him but poetry — though he read more than he wrote — but only read from impulse — an intermittent effort ; and reverting to the two preceding years, he de- scribes how he was first caught by natural philosophy, then by logic and metaphysics, then by history, and lastly by- poetry. In fact, having now got the highest classical re- ward, and having no course of science open to encouragfe and arouse his diligence, and not having been habituated to an early mental discipline, nor trained from a child according to method and system — he was carried away into desultory and discursive study. He was captivated with poetry ; yet Burke, with all his imagination, was not a poet. His language was copious and his imagery luxuriant ; but the subject-matter of his speeches and writings was the real , and the actual — it was not poetical, Many of the illustrations, with which he strengthened as well as decd- •rated his argumerit, may be poetical, but still it is the argument of an inductive philosophy. In October, 1746, he was reading Cicero's Offices, which he simply describes as " a blameless piece." He adds : "I got yesterday Waller, -whom I never read before, nor did you, I believe ; for it would be needless to tell you, if you had, that he is one of the most charming poets of England." He does not in- deed quote Waller's lines to " my Lady Carlisle," but he comments on his softness and his grandeur. He did not then suppose that Beaconsfield, which had been the home and the grave of Edmund the Poet, would yet be the home rand the grave of Edmund the Statesman ; his childhood had been brightened by the memory of Edmund Spenser, and his life was to close near the grave of Edmund Waller. In April, 1747, his name appears on the College Books, with others, who were cautioned for neglecting morning lecture. ' I suspect that about this time .he had begun Jiis 122 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. speculations on the sublime and beautiful, for he had been trying, without success, to get a second-hand copy of Longinus for his friend Dick, in the preceding January, and he says, " Rather than you should want it, I bought a new one. 'Tis, I think, a very good translation, and has no bad notes." I remember in my day in Trinity College having been rebuked by the present Bishop of Ossory for having neg- lected to study with attention one of the appointed text- books, Burlamaqui's " Natural Law ; " I had divided all my time between Butler's " Analogy " and the higher mathe- matics. It was enough, said Mr. O'Brien, that the heads of the College had ordered Burlamaqui to be read, and to set this aside for any favourite study, however excellent in itself, was against discipline and against duty. No doubt he was right, though at the time I did not appreciate the justice of his censure. Burke, however, had not the pro- found Butler nor any mathematics in his undergraduate course ; a refuge in general literature seemed almost un- avoidable in his case. He had now arrived at a stage of life when the youth properly becomes his own educator, when the character of the man is fashioned. Exulting in the conscious growth of knowledge, in sympathy with the great deeds of history — with the high passion of poetry, he was rich in the posses- sion of time and the accompanying consciousness of freedom and power. On the 2ist of April, 1747, the Club was formed which was the germ of the Historical Society. It met in George's Lane. I have got the original record, which has been kindly lent to me by Judge Berwick. Burke was one of the four original members ; Dennis was another. Here we can trace Burke from week to week — busy in speech, diligent in com- position — now an essay on society, afterwards on painting— at times speaking in a historic character — again the critic of Milton. The record is full and complete ; a considerable portion is in the handwriting of Burke himself. There is EDMUND BURKE. 123 the substance of an extempore comment of great excellence by Burke, on the " Sermon on the Mount." It is easy to trace his earnest and persevering disposition — that pouring out of the very fulness of his heart, without regard to the temper of his audience, which afterwards made him so un- manageable in debate. He gets the thanks, on one occasion, " for the matter of his oration, but not for the delivery of it." On another, he is praised for a paper on malice, " on account of the agreeable turn he had given it, different from the common manner." His father had designed him for the Bar — his name was already entered in the books of the Middle Temple. He did not, however, go to London until 1750. How the in- termediate time was spent, I can merely conjecture. As a Scholar of the House, he was still connected with the Col- lege, and he had free access to the Library. It is probable that at this time he composed much of his treatise on the " Sublime and Beautiful," and also collected the materials which he afterwards used in his historical writings. The facility of acquiring knowledge, the wonderful power of assimilation by which he digested whatever he read, and the ample leisure which he had at this time, after his studentship had closed, may in some degree explain the richness and the ripeness of the scholarship by which he was soon afterwards distinguished in London. His father, Richard Burke,has been described by Richard Shackleton as an attorney in middling circumstances ; a man of fretful temper and punctual honesty. Edmund Burke has qualified this. He says his father "was for many years not only in the first rank, but the very first man of his profession in point of practice and credit — ^until by giving way to a retired and splenetic humour, he did in a manner voluntarily contract his practice." In 1747 he changed his residence, and went to Ormond Quay. At the close of this year, the College friend, Dennis, writes :— " My dear friend Burke leads a very unhappy life from his father's temper, and what is worse, there is no prospect of bettering 124 LECTURES, "ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. it He mu'st nr)t stir- out at night by any means, and if- he stays at home, there is some new subject for abuse. There is but one bright spirit in the family, and they'd willingly ■•destroy it. All the little oddities which are found in itien -of genius, and are below their care, are eternal matter for .railing with him. Pity him and wish a change is all I can do." He then adds that Burke told him that morning (21st 'November, 1747) he wanted peace of mind, and his trouble was so great that he often forms desperate resolutions. His only refuge could have been in reading and writing, :with an occasional "visit to his friends at Ballyduffe, until at last the tirne came for his going to London. At that time it was " in parts beyond the seas." About ten years eigo I found at Dundalk an octavo volume containing the -narrative of a journey from Dublin to London at a period 'still more recent than the departure of Edmund Burke for 'the great metropolis. He gives, in a letter to a school- • fellow, his first impressions of London. But firsf he refers 'to -what he felt after leaving Ireland : " My mind was occu- pied with many thoughts, and my eyes often filled with tears' when I reflected on all the dear friends I left behind." He describes what he observed in England — " the country Seats" sprinkled on every side, some in the modern taste, some in the style of old De Coverley Hall, all smiling on the neat but humble cottage ; every village as neat and 'compact as a beehive, resounding with the hum of industry, and inns like palaces. What, a contrast to our poor country, where you'll scarce find a cottage ornamented with a chimney ! But what pleased me most of all was the progress of agriculture, my favourite study and my favourite pursuit, if Providence had blessed me with a few paternal acres. , , " A description of London and its natives would fill a :volUme. . The buildings are very fine : it may be called the •■sink of vice ; but its hospitals and charitable institutions, 'whose turrets pierce the skies, like so many electrical con- ;ductors,.. avert the wrath of Heaven." After giving h?s EDMUND BURKE. - i2§ impressions of Englishmen and Englishwomen, he proceed/ to comment on the neglected state of men of genius, and' the cultivation of literature notwithstanding. He speaks of the occasional eloquence in the House of Conimons, as' superior to that of Greece and Rome in their proudest days.' It is easy to see that he had found an atmosphere more congenial than that of his native city. - He was deeply impressed, as we rhay well believe, by- his visit to Westminster Abbey. " Some" (says he) " would' imagine that all these monuments were so many rnonu-' ments of folly; I don't think so; what useful lessons of morality and sound philosophy do they not exhibit?' ...... They show besides how anxious we are td extend our loves and friendships beyond the grave, and tc* snatch as much as we can from oblivion — such is our na-i tural love of immortality yet after all, do' you know, that I would rather sleep in the southern corner' of a little country churchyard than in the tomb of the" Gapulets ? I should like, however, that my dust should mingle with kindred dust. The good old expression,' 'family burying-ground,' has something pleasing in it, at least to me." ^ May he not have felt, when leaving Dublin, that the Irish Bar was not to be his final destination ? Chafed as he had been at home by an unsympathizing severity ; cheered- onward by the expansive energy of those great' faculties with which God had so wonderfully endowed him I- stored with an abundance of ripe knowledge, and gifted with an earnest and impassioned nature^hopes of the future may have mingled with memories of the past, when' the tear trickled down his manly and modest cheeks There may not have been any settled purpose of resisting his father's wishes, but there may have been a presentiment that these wishes might yet be overruled by the course^ of Providence. ' '' > That he loved literature, and looked forward to it as a source of support, cannot -be -doubted. -At .this -time 126 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. William Burke, who was connected in some undefined way with Edmund's family, was his companion in London. It would seem that, on account of his health (and there may have been other reasons), they made occasional ex- cursions to Bath and to Bristol, and other parts of England. At the end of August, 1751, Edmund wrote to Richard Shackleton from Monmouth, in which he speaks of himself as having been "so long an invalid and a traveller, and either too weak or too much hurried to set about any- thing." He refers to his former attempts at poetry. " Though a middling poet" (he says) " cannot be endured, there is some quarter for a middling lawyer. I read as much as I can (which is, however, but a little), and am just beginning to know something of what I am about, which till very lately I did not. This study causes no difficulty to those who already understand it, and to those who never will understand it : and for all between those extremes, God knows, they have a hard task of it. So much is cer- tain, though the success is precarious, but that we must leave to Providence. I am now at Monmouth, where I live very satisfactorily, am well, and know by experience of the contrary what a blessing that is." The friend to whom he had unbosomed himself about the unhappy life he led, in consequence of his father's temper, is mentioned at the close of this letter to Richard Shackleton. " Dennis," he says, " has acquainted me of his good intentions towards me." He left Monmouth, and spent the term time in London, and the rest of the winter in Croydon. " About the beginning of summer," he says, " finding myself attacked with my old complaints, I went once more to Bristol, and found the same benefit. I thank God for it, and wish I had grace to take in its full extent your very friendly and rational advice." His account of the various surmises at Monmouth about himself and, William Burke is most entertaining, especially from the fact that they could spend so much of their time at books, and received so^any letters. Their old landlady, however, EDMUND BURKE. I27 declared, " I believe that you be gentlemen, but I asks no . questions." This is put in amusing contrast with the case of a little parson, equally a stranger, who spent a good part of his hours in shooting and other country amusements, got drunk at night, got drunk in the morning, and became intimate with everybody in the village. He surprised no- body — no questions were asked about him. His next letter to Richard Shackleton is from Battersea, August loth, 1757. What had he been doing in the five ■ intervening years ? It is quite plain that he had given up the Law as a profession, and had been undecided as to his future course in life. He had made a trip to France ; he had thought of going to America. This project was com- municated in a letter to his father, but was received with . grief and anger. He had written to his father from London, in March, 1755, and expressed his deep regret at what had occurred. " I have nothing," he says, " nearer at heart than to make you easy ; and I have no scheme or design, however reasonable it may seem to me, that I would not , gladly sacrifice to your quiet and submit to your judgment.'* After announcing his readiness to do whatever his father might direct, he concludes : " I feel to the bottom of my soul for all that you have this long time suffered from your disorder, and it grieves me deeply to think that at such a time your sufferings should be at all increased by anything which looks ill-judged in my conduct. May God make ■ them lighter every moment, and continue to you and my mother very many very happy years, and every blessing 1, 1 ought to wish you for your care, your tenderness, your in- dulgence to me." At this time he was twenty-six years of age. Thus was he kept for England by the providential severity of his father, and his own sense of dutiful submis- ' sion. The latter held him back from going to America, the former from returning to Ireland. But how was he to subsist in England ? He now had completed his treatise on the "Sublime and Beautiful " which was ready for publication. His attention, I?8: LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. moreover, had been drawn to the works of Bolingbroke,' > which had been published about two years before, and . were pubHcly denounced " as subversive of rehgion, govern- .. njent, and morahty." In 1736, Butler, with his profound, wisdom, had laid prostrate the sophistry of the Deistical school, and now Burke was led to deal in a like spirit with the polished fallacies of Bolingbroke. He composed thcj spiall but celebrated work entitled, " A Vindication of Natural Society." It was published in 1756, without the name of the author. It was written in a most successful imitation of what was then supposed to be the inimitable style of Bolingbroke ; it proceeded on the principles on which this author had assailed revealed religion. The j design was (as afterwards declared by Burke himself) to i show " that without the exertions of any considerable ' forces, the same engines which were employed for the' destruction of religion, might be employed with equalj success for the subversion of government ; and that: spe- : cious arguments might be used against those things which ! they who doubt of everything else will never permit to be questioned." This work was, therefore, a finished repre- sentation of Bolingbroke carrying out his own principles in his own peculiar style, to their legitimate but monstrous results. Bolingbroke was thus made to be his own execu- j tioner. "Who now reads Bolingbroke?" asks Burke, in; his Reflections on the Revolution in France. Again, he. says, " I do not often quote Bolingbroke, nor have his ; works in general left any permanent impression on my ■ mind. He is a presumptuous and superficial writer.'' ; The treatise on the "Sublime and Beautiful" was published , in this year, 1756, with the name of the author. It ^x- ; hibited much excellence of style, and attracted considerable attention. Johnson commended it in very corriplimentary language; Blair, Hume, and other eminent men signified; their approbation. Amongst these was one who afterwards- became one of Burke's dearest and most devoted friends, the celebrated Sir Joshua Reynolds^ In 1 7.5 7. .ja .new: EDMUND BURKE. 129 edition was demanded, and to this was prefixed the in- troductory chapter on Taste. A copy was sent to his father, who received it with paternal pride, and remitted the acceptable present of ;^iOO as a substantial token of approval to his truant son. Early in this same year, Burke married the daughter of Dr. Nugent, the physician whom he had consulted on the state of his health, and who kindly brought him to his own quiet residence, where he would be under his immediate and vigilant care, which the precarious state of his health seemed to require. His marriage proved to be a happy one : all who afterwards came in contact with Mrs. Burke agree in the appreciation of her character. " She was soft, gentle, reasonable, and obliging," says Fanny Burney ; and in the comparatively straitened circumstances in which they had to eke out life, she managed his affairs with prudence and discretion. Every care, he said, vanished when he crossed his own threshold. From a letter of loth September, 1760, which is given in the New Monthly QJoX. XIV., p. 382), it would seem that he had occasion to enlist the services of a mutual friend, Mr. Vesey, in bringing about a reconciliation with his father, who was, no doubt, disquieted and disappointed in the course which Edmund had pursued, without a provision or a profession to enable him to maintain a family. In 1758 (February) his son Richard was born ; another son was born in December, but died in its childhood. This was to him an eventful year. His attention had been already directed to America. He had diligently studied the history of the European settlements there, and in 1757 he had composed a part, if not the whole, of a work on this subject, which has been greatly and justly commended. He then projected the publication of the Annual Register, which has occupied so important a place in the history of our periodical literature. His aim was an elevated one. It was the instruction and enlightenment of those of the public who were capable of appreciating what is wise and *K I30 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. politic in public affairs, but had not the leisure or the opportunity to investigate for themselves, or the capacity, without assistance, to form safe conclusions on the complex and concrete problems of political and social life. The time was eventful. The British arms had been victorious in Hindostan, and triumphant in America. Clive was the hero of the East, Wolfe of the West. Empires had been secured by conquest ; but how were they to be preserved ? Johnson and Goldsmith had begun the noble work of puri- fying the literature of England. There was no daily press, with its spirited and suggestive comment ; the education of the general public had scarcely at all begun. Politicians, under the guise of statesmen, were intent on turning to their own account the popular feelings and the national prejudices, which were earnest and patriotic, but narrow and unenlightened. The men of literature, above the age in which they lived, laboured for a noble end, and by far more worthy means. The Annual Register came out in 1759, under the direction of Edmund Burke. It was designed for the instruction and entertainment of a class of general readers. It placed before them, at the outset, a lucid and instructive history of the American campaign ; and in each succeeding year it contained a summary of public affairs, drawn up with clearness and impartiality. The spirit of Burke pervaded the whole. About ;£'ioo a- year was his recompense for this invaluable labour. To him, moreover, it proved to be a training school. At the end of 1758, on Christmas Day, he met Dr. Johnson at dinner, for the first time, in the house of Mr. Garrick. The great subject of conversation was Bengal ; and to the surprise of those present who knew the extra- ordinary powers of Johnson, and his impatience of any kind of contradiction, he quietly submitted to the correc- tions of the young Irishman. A few years before this, whilst walking in St. James's Park, Burke had been accosted by a young Armenian, Joseph Emin, who had made away from his father jn Calcutta.. He had been filled EDMUND BURKE. 131 with an irresistible desire of visiting England, and acquaint- ing himself with the ways of a nation which he believed was destined to be the rulers of India : he had worked his passage to London. His autobiography has been pub- lished. It was revised by Sir W. Jones. He describes Burke as a tall, noble-looking man. Burke was taken with him on the first impression, and brought him to his cham- bers. On leaving, Burke offered him the last half-guinea he then had, which was declined by Emin. There was something in his own circumstances which awakened the sympathy of Burke. He lent him books, assisted him in his reading, made him the copyist of the manuscripts of his two publications, and recommended him to the notice of others by whom he was befriended. He was a man of great energy of character and heroic enterprise. From him, doubtless, Burke learned much about India ; and, it may be, Emin had assisted him in acquiring the knowledge of Bengal by which he was enabled to edify Dr. Johnson. Burke had a providential escape in 1759. The consul- ship at Madrid was vacant, and had not been filled up for some months. Through Dr. Markham, the head master of Westminster School, the Duchess of Queensberry was induced to exert her impressive influence on Mr. Pitt to get this situation for Burke. Happily the application was not successful. " There's a Divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will." He was reserved for a higher mission. Mrs. Montague speaks of him about this time, that " however excellent as a writer, as still more estimable for his virtues. He is in- genious and ingenuous ; modest and delicate ; and in all serious subjects full of respect and veneration." He now came in contact with the gentleman who bears the historic name of " single-speech Hamilton," who then had a seat at the Board of Trade, of which Lord Halifax was the presi- dent. Hamilton became acquainted with Burke through the intervention of the Earl of Charlemont, who had been 132 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. already captivated by the talent which Burke had displayed in his writings. Burke now gave his attention to the trade and commerce of England, and the principles and details of our colonial policy. Hamilton had engaged him as a helpmate in his studies. In 1761 Lord Halifax was appointed to the Viceroyalty of Ireland, and Hamilton was the Chief Secretary. Burke was offered the post of private secretary to Hamilton. At this time his father had been reconciled to his marriage, as appears from the letter to which I have already referred, which was written in September, 1760, to Mr. Vesey, in which he says, " I can- not express how much I am obliged to you for your kind and successful endeavours in my favour. Of whatever advantage the remittance was, the assurance you gave me of my father's reconciliation was a great deal more pleas- ing." On the 2 1st July, 1761, Horace Walpole met Burke at the house of the newly-appointed secretary, Mr. Hamilton, where they dined. " There were," says he, " Garrick and a young Burke, who wrote a book in the style of Lord Boling- broke that was much admired. He is a sensible man, but has not worn off his authorism yet, and thinks there is nothing so charming as writers, and to be one. He will know better one of these days." He arrived in Dublin with his wife and children. His father was then living on Ormond Quay, and soon after made his will, which bears date on the 4th November, 1761. Edmund is one of the witnesses to it. I have got a copy of it. It was made in the prospect of his approaching death. " I bequeath and resign my soul," he says, " to y° Almighty God, my Creator, believing and hoping for a remission of my sins, and everlasting life by the merits and passion of Christ Jesus my God, my only Saviour and Redeemer." He desires, if he dies in Dublin, to be buried in St. James's churchyard, near his departed children. With reference to Edmund and Richard, he speaks of them as having been " before otherwise provided for by me." EDMUND BURKE. 1 33 Their legacies are, therefore, small. Burke has himself stated that about ;£'iooo had been already expended by his father on his education in the Temple, and that he died worth very near ;^6ooo. He gave small legacies to the two children of his son " Ned ;" and he makes Garret, his eldest son (then a solicitor), his residuary legatee. Some years afterwards, in the House of Commons, Onslow, who was the son of a Speaker of the House, and grandson of another Speaker and descendant of another, spoke of those who were descended from Parliament men. Burke proudly and promptly replied : " I am not descended from Members of Parliament, nor am I descended from any distinguished characters whatsoever. My father left me nothing in the world but good principles, good instruction, good example." May I add, that this was a noble bequest from an upright parent to a wise and virtuous son ? How happy for him, moreover, that he was now permitted to receive the last blessing of his dying father. Early in 1763, Hamilton had completed an arrangement for securing a pension of ;^300 a year to Burke, from the Irish Treasury. Such grants were not unusual, but seldom so meritorious. Before he actually got the pension, Burke wrote to Hamilton, and explained that it would be neces- sary to have some occasional leisure to enable him to keep up his literary position, which he had latterly neglected. It is plain that he felt that he had heretofore sacrificed too much of his time and labour to his new patron, and his sensitive nature shrunk from the possible imputation of dishonourably relaxing his efforts after he should have se- cured the pension. He, therefore, stipulates beforehand that if he cannot have the reasonable leisure which he asks, the pension should be postponed. The pension was granted, however, and Burke returned to London with his patron. It would appear that Hamilton afterwards insisted on his right to the undivided services of Burke for life, as if he had bought him in the slave market. This led to a cor- 134 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. respondence, conducted, on the part of Burke, in a respectful but a manly spirit ; and it ended in his giving up the pen- sion, of which Hamilton had the meanness to take an assignment to his own nominee. It is a passage in the life of Burke which greatly redounds to his honour. He was a poor man ; he had no profession ; he had a young wife and a child whom he loved tenderly, altogether depen- dent upon him ; he incurred the hostility of a man of poli- tical influence and large connection ; he gave up the pension, which he had honourably obtained, rather than forfeit that self-respect and independence of spirit which were dear to him as life itself. On the loth April, 1765, this transaction was wound up. " Six of the best years of my life," says Burke, " he took me from every pursuit of literary reputation or of improvement of my fortune. In that time he made his own fortune (a very great one), and he has also taken to himself the very little one which I had made." Other letters have recently appeared, which are to be found in the published correspondence ; his character, in this transaction, is exhibited in a very favourable light, indeed. It is not to be overlooked that these six years proved to be a providential preparation for the new scene in which Burke was soon to take a leading part. In 1764 the Literary Club was founded by Reynolds, who, with Johnson, Burke, Goldsmith, Dr. Nugent (Burke's father-in- law), and Bennet Langton, with one or two others, were the original members of this famous Association. It is familiar to all the readers of Boswell's Johnson ; great justice has been done to it in the graphic narrative of Mr. Forster, in his admirable biography of Goldsmith. The object was ' social and literary ; politics were advisedly excluded. Such companionship must naturally have re-animated Burke's literary propensities, and interfered with the de- signs of Hamilton to appropriate to his own use Burke's time and talents. This led to the separation which took place in 1765. Not long after Hamilton had stripped him of the pension, a political crisis took place. A change of ' EDMUND BURKE. 135 ministry was at liand. The taxation of America by Eng- land was the great question of the day. America was now in a ferment. Rioting and resistance had begun. In a later to Henry Flood, dated May 18, 1765, Burke says of the expected change — " There is a strong probability that new men will come in, and not. improbably with new ideas. Nothing," he says, " but an intractable temper in your friend Pitt, can prevent a most admirable and lasting sys- tem from being put together ; and this crisis will show whether pride or patriotism be predominant in his char- acter ; for you may be assured, that he has it now in his power to come into the service of his country upon any plan of politics he may choose to dictate, with great and honourable terms to himself and to every friend he has in the world, and with such a stretch of power as will be equal to everything but absolute despotism over the king and kingdom. A few days will show whether he will take this part or that of continuing on his back at Hayes talking fustian, excluded from all ministerial, and incapable of all parliamentary, service; for his gout is worse than ever, but his pride may disable him more than his gout." The change took place — a new ministry was formed — the pride of Pitt prevailed over his patriotism. The Mar- quis of Rockingham was placed at the head of the admini- stration. "No man," says Lord John Russell, "ever carried into public affairs a purer love of the public welfare. His good sense was never at fault — his judgment clear ; his power of expression in writing not inferior to his judgment ; his capacity for uniting and guiding men of separate views and jealous tempers, generally acknowledged." He was not an orator — he was indisposed to speak in Parliament ; he had not a strong constitution, and was deficient in physical energy. The ruling desire of the king and the courtiers by whom he was surrounded, was to undermine party as unduly conti'olling his prerogative ; and the per- sonal ambition of Pitt unhappily assisted the designs of the Court. Lord Rockingham had a-task of great difficulty, 136 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. in which he had every right to claim the support of all the true Whigs of the Revolution — those wfho sought to unite indissolubly liberty with order and justice, to restrain the prerogative of the Crown and the power of the people, so as to keep both within the settled limits of the Constitution. But he had besides a peculiar 'claim on Pitt, for his policy was wise and pacific — to heal the breach with America, and put an end to domestic struggles and intrigues, which were injurious to the cause of constitutional freedom. Pitt was imperious and impracticable ; he was also vain and ambi- tious. His health was unequal to sustained exertion, and his opinions on trade and finance were old-fashioned, nar- row, and unsound. Through William Burke and Mr. Fitzherbert, who was then a member of the Literary Club, and had been ap- pointed to the Board of Trade, Edmund Burke was recom- mended to Lord Rockingham as his private secretary. But scarcely had he been appointed, when the Duke of Newcastle, one of the Cabinet, came to the Marquis to warn him of the trap which was supposed to have been laid for him. The Duke had heard confidentially that Burke was a Jesuit, educated at St. Omer's ; that his real name was O'Bourke ; it was part of a Popish plot to get him into the confidential position of private secretary to the Premier ! The Marquis, with the straightforward simplicity of his noble nature, frankly placed before Burke all that he had been told. It was soon displaced. The Marquis was fully satisfied with the choice he had made. But the sensitive nature of Burke was pained and wounded. He felt that the lurking suspicion might mar the freedom of his inter- course with the Marquis, and therefore suggested, as the better way, to break off the connection. The Marquis was too high-minded and honourable ; the instinct of his nature told him that all was right ; he insisted on Burke remain- ing with him, and thus began a connection which soon ripened into an intimacy, which was not interrupted for eighteen years, and only terminated with Lord Rocking- EDMUND BURKE. 137; ham's death. The Duke of Newcastle, on ascertaining the- truth of the matter, ever afterwards treated Burke with entire confidence and affectionate regard. Lord Verney was the patron of the borough of Wen- dover, which had been represented by John Hampden ; through William Burke and other friends, the return of Edmund Burke for this borough was secured, and he now took his seat in Parliament in January, 1766. The House of Commons had already engaged his earnest attention. < He has told us that he sate in the gallery when Grenville brought forward his proposals for taxing America. His: commercial studies, since 1759, had unconsciously prepared him for his new position, and had already suggested to his mind a very different view of the policy of Grenville from that which seemed to prevail in the Parliament by which it was adopted, where an insignificant minority in the Com- mons opposed it in a languid debate ; and in the Lords there was neither debate nor division. His preparation was strikingly providential. He had been engaged in pre- paring for publication an abridgment of English History. He had made considerable progress in the study of English law ; he had examined the early and (what he aptly called) the interior history of Ireland, and put together his reflec- tions on the course of the English misrule, the obvious consequerices of an unsound policy. He had already ac- quired a great deal of knowledge of India. He had made himself thoroughly acquainted with the history of the European settlements in America ; and from the oppor- tunity afforded by his connection with Hamilton, he had investigated the principles and details of trade and com- merce. In addition to all this general preparation, he has stated the special preparation he made when he entered Parliament, to enable him to deal with the great question ' of America. England and America had been recently united against France and Spain, and been triumphant. The war had necessarily interrupted the commerce of the country. After the war, commerce speedily revived. The 138 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS.' complicated system of Revenue Laws led to contraband trading. The naval service was employed in the attempt to put this down by force. The country became disquieted; and discontented ; military force was now to be provided, and a supply was needed to keep up this force. The policy- of Grenville consisted in taxing America for the protection of a monopoly for England. His character has been graphic- ally sketched by Burke. He came from the narrow school of English law. He passed through the routine of office ; but neither could give him largeness and liberality of mind — the comprehensive sagacity, that insight into the purposes of society and the relations of things, which is different from reason only by being above it, and which is the ulti- mate measure of civil right and the basis of policy. As a war minister, Pitt was unrivalled ; but the war had ceased. Pitt had now, for a policy of peace, a political dogma — no taxation without representation. This was his specific. He would restrain the American trade ; he would prohibit their manufactures ; he would bind and fetter them with all the chains of English monopoly, but he would not tax them directly for the purpose of supply. Burke felt the greatness of the crisis. He was then (as he has told us) in the vigour of his manhood ; he came not from a school forensic or official, though he had made- progress in the study of law, and had seen a little of the^ mechanism of office. He came from the higher school of literature and philosophy. There he had graduated in his-' tory and in poetry ; in classics and in morals. But this was not all. " I did not come into Parliament," he says,^ " to con my lesson. I found it necessary to analyze the whole commercial, financial, constitutional, and foreign in-: terests of Great Britain and its Empire. Then in the vigour of my manhood, my constitution sunk under my labour. I seemed to myself very near death." What a^ noble preparation for duty, in a public trust ! Thus could' he look on the whole question with the eye of a statesman ; not, as it appeared to Pitt, an isolated denial of the mere EDMUND BURKE. 1 39 right of England to tax, but as a concrete question of con- stitutional and commercial policy. Here were colonies founded by the Saxon race, who carried with them the indomitable spirit and imperishable traditions of Saxon freedom ; the freest and boldest offshoot of the Reforma- tion ; proud of their descent and connection ; with the energy of an expanding commerce, which could not be confined with paper chains. The bounds of their habitation were in the ocean, fixed by Him who hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth — and hath spread out the paths of the seas as the great highway of free intercourse and commerce. Bacon had proclaimed that nature could only be conquered by obedience ; Burke soon perceived that the penal policy of Grenville could not be maintained, and that the partial policy of Pitt, though it might be palliative, could not be remedial. He had sprung up in Parliament like Pallas from the head of Jove. The profound historian of Greece has said of Pericles and Epaminondas, what is no less true of Burke : — " It is alike true of both, and the remark tends much to illustrate the sources of Grecian excellence, that neither sprang exclusively from the school of practice and experience. They both brought to that school minds exercised in the conversation of the most instructed philo- sophers and sophists accessible to them — trained to varied intellectual combinations and to a larger range of subjects than those that came before the public assembly." (Grote's Greece, Vol. X., p. 491.) There was no precedent, as Burke observes, for the case of America, and therefore all solid reasonings were to be derived from its actual circumstances. As colonies founded' for commerce, as colonies of the English race and religion, ' it was needful to take into account the principles of trade and commerce, as well as the essentially free spirit of the English Constitution, sensitive above measure on this very matter of taxation. The right to tax America, as a ques- tion of mere power, was involved in the dependency of the I40 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. colonies on the mother country ; it could not, perhaps, be given up altogether without renouncing that dependency, but it might be given up almost, without prejudice to the dignity of the mother country. It was only to be used (if at all) in an emergency of the last resort, which had not arisen, and was not likely to arise. It was odious and op- pressive to the Saxon spirit ; it was not restrained within the customary limits of a free grant of the local legislature ; it wounded their pride and inflamed their hostility. It was the sting of a system of revenue laws which were mischiev- ous, to preserve trade laws which were worse than useless. We have no published report of the first speeches of Burke on this great question. But we have an account of his labor- ious preparation, and the unexampled effect which these speeches produced upon the house. Johnson wrote at the time, " They filled the town with wonder." Grenville's policy [was reversed — Pitt's was rejected. The legislative supremacy of the mother country was maintained as a con- stitutional right, but to be exercised for the purpose of protection only. But what is meant by protection? To protect men (as Burke has finely said) is to forward, not to restrain their improvement. Else what is it more than to avow to them, and to the world, that you guard them from others, only to make them a prey to yourself? "This fundamental nature of protection," he says, " does not be- long to free but to all governments, and is as valid in Turkey as in Great Britain. No government ought to own that it exists for the purpose of checking the prosperity of its people, or that there is such a principle involved in its policy." Thus the assertion of the right which soothed the temper of England, was softened by the acknowledgment of the duty which satisfied the spirit of America. Peace and economy, commercial and constitutional freedom, were the main points of the charter which Burke was now labouring to stereotype as the creed of the Rockingham party. He had a firm and enlightened conviction that the general laws of the moral as of the material world were, EDMUND BURKE. 141 wisely arranged for the good of man ; that the knowledge of these laws, in order that we might follow their benign guidance, was the key to human progress and to human welfare. He felt that government was not the mere exer- cise of power — a right to make others miserable ; it was a sacred trust from God, a delegated authority to restrain evil and promote good. To the abuse of this authority, to the ignorance or disregard of these discoverable laws, he traced the inevitable consequences, which were of God's appointment. A foresight which sometimes seemed to be to a degree prophetic was simply philosophic. The Marquis of Rockingham naturally attracted the affection and the reverence of Biirke. His high sense of honour, his directness, his excellent common sense, his wise moderation — his prompt appreciation of the growing claims of commerce, and his readiness to hear the views and wishes of the leading merchants and manufacturers — led to the inauguration of a healing and healthy policy — a policy which would, moreover, have led to the gradual removal of that undue and corrupt influence of the Court party, which was not more opposed to the true spirit of the Act of Settlement, than it was to the good of the people ; a policy which would have led the way to that commercial freedom which seems to have been designed to follow in the wake of civil liberty, as this was the consequent of the great work of the Reformation. Regulations, however re- strictive, are not commerce. Taxation, whether internal or external, is not revenue. Penal laws are not morals. Abso- lutism, with all its ritual accompaniments, is not the liberty wherewith Christ has made us free. Notwithstanding the honourable motives, the wise and liberal policy of the Rockingham Cabinet, the ambition of Pitt and the intrigues of the mercenaries of the Court party brought about another change of Administration. The Duke of Grafton, who had served with Lord Rockingham, was the nominal chief of a new Cabinet on a plan arranged by Pitt, who was now made Lord Privy Seal, and Earl of 142 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Chatham. In a small publication, entitled " A Short Account of a Short Administration," Burke placed before the public a summary of the measures which had been car- ried by the Rockingham party in the year and twenty days in which they held office. The Marquis was desirous to get employment for Burke in the new Administration ; and the Duke of Grafton strongly urged Pitt, now Lord Chatham, to seek the ser- vices of Burke. The Duke said that he had the means of knowing his integrity — that he might thoroughly be trusted. And in a letter of October 17, 1766, to Lord Chatham, he says : " Of those whom I should wish, and Mr. Conway also wishes, to see to support him is Mr. Burke, the readiest man upon all points, perhaps, in the whole house." Lord Chatham replied : " The gentleman your Grace points out as a necessary recruit, I think a man of parts and an in- genious speaker. As to his notions and maxims of trade, they never can be mine!' He had promised the first open place at the Board of Trade to Lord Lisburne. There was no room for the Irish Commoner — the young Irishman of whom General Lee had then written to the Prince Royal of Poland, that he " had astonished everybody by the power of his eloquence and his comprehensive knowledge in all our exterior and internal politics and commercial interests. He wants nothing but that sort of dignity annexed to rank and property in England, to make him the most consider- able man in the Lower House." He was distanced by this Lord Lisburne. Chatham, who in the House of Commons had congratulated Burke on his first success, and his friends on the value of the acquisition they had made (as we learn from the excellent Earl of Charlemont) — Chatham, at this crisis of the American question, turned aside from Burke as from a basilisk. With a view to complete a job for his brother-in-law, James Grenville, he made Charles Townsend his Chancellor of the Exchequer — Townsend whose char- acter Burke has so inimitably sketched — who treated Chatham's distinction of internal and external taxation as EDMUND BURKE. 143 simply ridiculous, but pledged himself to find a revenue nearly sufficient to meet the expense properly required for the colonies. And of this Chatham was apprised. De- spising the wisdom of Burke, and enduring the folly of Townsend, Chatham and his composite Cabinet, which Burke has painted in colours that have not yet faded, in- augurated a system of taxation affecting British manu- factures and therefore not properly within trade regulations ; duties were imposed and to be -collected in America, in a way which marked their imperial origin and purpose ; thus inflicting indirectly on the colonies, against the soundest principles of commercial policy, what Chatham had so strenuously contended to be against constitutional right directly to impose. With such a ministry Burke could have no communion. He had become one of a party with a creed of en^ lightened policy, and a purpose of promoting the best interests of England. He was comparatively a poor man ; he had not the influence of social position : but he had so far won his way by the self-elevating power of industry and virtue, under the blessing and guidance of God. His nature was earnest and artless ; he had not the finesse that is often miscalled sagacity, nor the cunning, which (as Bacon says) is but the counterfeit of wisdom. Lord Charlemont has described him as amiable and excellent, but sometimes allowing his zeal to carry him beyond the bounds of prudence. Horace Walpole says, that of all the eminent men he ever met, Burke had the least political art., This exactly squares with what we might collect from his own admissions. He had no reserve— no kind of con- cealment ; whatever the subject was, he poured forth the affluence of his thoughts and feelings. Sir Philip Francis happily remarked, " You always see both the best and the worst of him." There can be little doubt that politics and party now engrossed his attention, and must have greatly interfered with the literary intercourse which was so agreeable to 144 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Goldsmith and Johnson. Goldsmith, who looked up to Burke with pride and with affection ; impulsive and genial — with a heart overflowing with that charity which embraces everything human — bringing into gentle relief those truths which are of aspect the most benign, and those suggestions and hopes for the erring which are mo-st full of consolation — could never recognise the purposes of any party less comprehensive than the whole family of man. Johnson with his sturdy common-sense, could fully appreciate the working of party as a necessity in a free country, which even Butler admits it to be, and an instrument of sound policy, which Burke has shown it to be. But Johnson hated the Whig party with a perfect hatred. He could not, of course, encourage Burke in his hot political pursuit " I can live very well with Burke," he said ; " I love his knowledge — his genius — his diffusion and affluence of con- versation ; but I would not talk to him of the Rockingham party." Burke had from the first commanded the esteem of Johnson by his conscious self-respect, his kindliness, his boundless knowledge, his high cultivation, and his moral consistency. " What I most envy Burke for is " (says Johnson) " his being constantly the same." The palm of superiority everywhere and in everything was at all times freely conceded by Johnson to Burke, his connec- tion with the Rockingham party always excepted. The publication of the Cavendish debates, or, I should rather say, of a part of them (and it is not creditable to Parliament that the whole should not have been printed), enables us to follow Burke's career in the House of Commons from 1768 to 1771. It was an eventful period. Strangers were excluded from the gallery ; there were no public reporters. The debates which have been published were taken down in shorthand by Sir H. Cavendish, then a member of the House. Junius's letters have done much to excite an in- terest about some of these debates, but perhaps not less interest about the great unknown himself Burke had been long and often suspected to have been the author of these EDMUND BURKE. 145 letters. I do not delay upon the subject. It is now put beyond doubt that Burke had nothing whatsoever to do with them. I have gone through these debates. I find Burke taking an active share in the discussion of every important ques- tion r but his position was unfavourable to his personal influence. He was in opposition, in a divided minority. The servile adherents of the Court party sneered at his manly wisdom — what they could not refute they could resist — and they took refuge in impatient interruption. For a prudent politician, I would say with Johnson, he spoke too often and too unreservedly ; but, as Johnson added, " No one could say he did not speak well." He spoke earnestly, for he felt not less than he thought, and from the abundance of the heart, as well as the profusion of the intellect and imagination, he spoke copiously. Coarse minds repudiated the refined and thoughtful wisdom, which with them passed for subtlety and dogmatism. " The spirit thoroughly faithful to itself Is to society's unreasoning herd A domineering instinct." There are two letters which, in connection with this period of his public life, deserve our attention. One is in the Fitzwilliam Correspondence, Vol. I., p. 276 ; the other in the " Leadbeater Papers," Vol. H., p. 109. They throw much light on the course he took, and why he took it. " It is but too well known " (he says) " that I debate with great vehemence and asperity, and with little management either ,of the opinions or persons of many of my adversaries ; they deserve not much quarter, and I give and receive but very little." Whether it arose from the intensity of his nature and the conscious superiority of his knowledge, or from the want of an early discipline of deference — an habitual allowance of those equities which a free assembly, like the House of Commons, always enforces — and having come into the House in the full maturity of his powers, and with L 146 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. habits fixed — certain it is that he was on some occasions too didactic, on others too impatient ; and, considering that at that time official or social position was almost necessary to command attention in the general business of the House, it cannot be doubted that in this part of his career his zeal and honesty of purpose are more conspicuous than his judgment or discretion. But when he took up his pen, there was nothing but wisdom. The " Observations on the Present State of the Nation," which were published in reply to a pamphlet supposed to have been composed by Grenville, is a remarkable specimen of his masterly ac- quaintance with details as well as principles. And in the next publication, the best perhaps of all his political writings, I mean the " Thoughts on the Present Discontents," we have what was meant for the Rockingham creed. It was revised, and in some respects altered, by the leaders of that party. It cannot fail to instruct the historian, the philo- sopher, and the statesman. It is evident throughout that he ^kept in view the one object of consolidating the Whig party, on what he held to be genuine Whig principles — to restrain on either side the encroachments of the Crown and the excesses of the people. On the success of this seemed to depend the prosperity of England. Whilst this effort was almost a forlorn hope, and, notwithstanding, called forth all the energy and taxed the resources of Burke, Goldsmith wrote his celebrated poem of " Retaliation," which was not pub- lished until after his death, He died early in 1774. Burke was deeply affected at the death of his friend and country- man. He burst into tears when he heard of it. Goldsmith had looked on Burke as a being from another sphere, and would not allow the superiority of Johnson. " Is he like Burke " (said he) " who winds into his subject like a ser- pent ? " It is curious that Goldsmith's humorous descrip- tion of his friends, including Burke, in the " Retaliation," was published on the i8th April, 1774. On the very next day Burke made his great speech on the repeal of the Tea EDMUND BURKE. I47 Duty in America. This we have now in print The Ministry with blind fatuity clung to this miserable impost, as if resolved to humiliate America. The paltry sum of ;^ 1 6,000 a year could not raise a question of revenue. Burke has truly said that — " Nothing can read so awful and so instructive a lesson, as the conduct of the Ministry in this business, upon the mischief of not having large and liberal ideas in the management of great affairs. Never have the servants of the State looked at the whole of your complicated interests in one connected view." The American trade of tea, just at this time, had become im- portant, to realize the benefit of the East India conquests. Three-fourths of the duty of teas exported to America was taken oiif as drawback, the remainder was to be collected in America by English Commissioners appointed for the purpose. What was capable of being easily collected without any risk was given up — what must necessarily have roused the hostility of America and injured the trade was enforced. Dugald Stewart has given a valuable dissertation on the men of business or detail, and the men of abstraction or philosophers (El. Phil., Vol. I., p. 229), and refers very happily to the character of Grenville, which Burke has drawn. The observations of Burke, he says, "are ex- pressed with his usual beauty and felicity of language, and are of so general a nature that, with some trifling alterations, they may be extended to all the practical pursuits of life." " In a perfect system of education, care should be taken to guard against both extremes, and to unite habits of abstraction with habits of business in such a manner as to enable men to consider things either in general or in detail, as the occasion may require." He ends this important chapter with an extract from Lord Bacon — " Expert men can execute and judge of particulars one by one ; but the general counsels and the plots, and the marshalling of affairs, come best from those that are learned." In the ninety-fifth aphorism of the "Novum 148 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Organum," you will find that Bacon compares the men of experiment with the ant — they only collect and use ; the reasoners with the spiders, who make cobwebs out of their own substance. The bee takes a middle course : it gathers its material from the flowers of the garden and of the field, but transforms and digests it by a power of its own. This is the course he commends to philosophy, by which a closer and purer league may be made between the experimental and rational faculties, and from which (he adds) much may be hoped. I call Edmund Burke, emphatically, the Bacon of Statesmen. In the great question of America, his in- ductive philosophy was as practical as it was profound ; there was the happy combination of the most comprehend sive and exact reasoning on the principles of the Constitu- tion and of commerce, with the most careful observation of all the realities — the antecedent and existing circum- stances ; the temper, habits, feelings— nay, even the pre- judices of the colonists ; it was, indeed, a question of political and social philosophy of the highest order. When we now look back at the astounding folly of Grenville, the narrow commercial prejudices, the fitful temper, and political phdantry of Chatham ; the fatuity of his wayward, vacillating, composite Cabinet ; the petty intrigues and influence of the Court, and not the considera- tion of the great interests of commerce, or the welfare of the colonies, swaying the decisions of the Ministry ; then the servility of Lord North and his followers — the wilful disregard of the very first principles of political and eco- nomic science ; and when we think how these principles were again and again expounded and enforced by our illustrious countryman with a power, a perspicuity, and an eloquence never surpassed, and then compare the results which followed the fatal policy of ignorance, weak- ness, and folly with what might have been the fruit of the enlightened wisdom of Edmund Burke — contented colonies, commercial freedom, the relation of interest and affection EDMUND BURKE. I49 with England, even if not always one of acknowledged dependence — may we not read a lesson of the high crimi- nality of State ignorance, of the tremendous penalties which it may bring upon a country, whose rulers, blinded by pre- judice, or misled by servility, dishonour the law of liberty, and despise the light of truth ? On the 22nd March, 1775, Burke brought forward his resolutions for conciliating America. There was yet an opportunity for retreat, and on this occasion he made a speech which (says Lord Russell) " combining profound knowledge of the vast sub- ject on which he spoke, wisdom in devising remedies for pressing evils, eloquence in expounding his views, beauty of language, and fertility of fancy, has no superior in the records of Parliamentary discussion. Other occasions may have produced a close phalanx of argument or a splendour of diction, or a quickness of reply, which have won equal or more admiration at the moment; but as a work of human genius and a lesson of statesmanship, this speech will ever command the veneration of the student of English history and English eloquence." A few years afterwards, he made that celebrated speech on the employment of Indians in the war with America, which seemed (says Lord Russell) to have anticipated the eloquence, if not the glory, of one of his greatest orations against Hastings. Horace Walpole describes it as the chef d''(£uvre of wit, humour, and just satire, and also of pathetic description. At one part. Lord North was almost suffocated with laughter ; at another. Colonel Barre was in tears. " I wish," he writes to his friend, " I could give you an idea of that superlative oration. He was pressed to print it, but says he .has not time during the session." Governor Johnstone said he "rejoiced there were no. Strangers in the gallery, as Burke's speech would have excited them to tear the ministers to pieces as they went but of the House." Horace Walpole significantly observes^ " They were much more afraid of losing their places." On the fall of the Rockingham Administration, he came ISO LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. over to Ireland. He wished to avoid any negotiation with the new Cabinet. Chatham's views and his were not re- concilable. On the question of the mere right of taxation, indeed, he probably would have relaxed, for, in the end, he seemed willing to leave it as an open question. It had, by the course of events, become shadowy and abstract, and scarcely worth contesting in the House of Commons. On the question of policy — the right, under the circumstances — how striking is the contrast between his sound practical wisdom and the narrow, limited views of Chatham 1 " You ought not to tax at all ; all the circumstances show con- clusively that it is at present unsound in policy, and must be perilous in event. If you ought rrot to do it directly, neither ought you to resort to a device which indirectly violates your own dogma, and directly conflicts with the freedom and prosperity of trade and commerce." Such was the substance of Burke's appeal. Is not the reply of Chatham simply this ? " I abide by my Constitutional dogma. I adhere to my commercial policy. I must not, it is true, directly tax the property of America, for the purpose of supply ; but I can and I will tax British commodities in America ; I will, moreover, maintain the monopoly of England in their market— the right of England to fetter their trade and. limit their manu- factures ; and I will collect in America, under another name, the duties which I will indirectly compel America to pay as a tax in aid of imperial supply." " It is useful" (says Dr. Arnold in his History of the later Roman Commonwealth) " to see what dreadful actions the best men of ancient times were led unhesitatingly to com- mit, from the utter absence of a just law of nations, and the fatal habit of making their country the supreme object of their duty!' Chatham loved England, and gloried in her proud pre-eminence. But the time had arrived when, in the course of Providence, navigation and commerce began to invite a freer intercourse of nations — when the sound principles of colonial policy, combined with the free spirit EDMUND BURKE. I51 of the English Constitution, had unfolded a new page of political philosophy for the advancement of national pros- perity and human progress. Chatham could not even spell the lesson which Burke had read and inwardly digested. Chatham had enabled the mercenaries of the Court to break up the Rockingham Cabinet, and cheat the country of their saving policy. Capricious in his temper, and in- termittent from his health, he left Charies Townsend to commence what was then left to Lord North to complete — • the humiliation of England and the independence of America. When Burke came over to Ireland, his first visit was to Ballitore. " I cannot forget," says Mrs. Leadbeater, " the first visit of this illustrious man. Edmund Burke was expected ; we naturally loved every friend of our parents, but to these predilections were superadded sentiments of respect and admiration in the present instance, which caused his visit to be expected with impatient wonder. The chaise stopped at the big gate, which unfolded wide, and my imagination still presents the graceful form of Edmund, as I beheld him from the nursery window leading in his wife, a pretty little woman, with no covering on her head but her beautiful, unadorned auburn tresses. On Elizabeth Shackleton expressing surprise that she wore no cap, in which respect she was singular at that time, she said that she dressed conformably to her husband's taste ; how- ever, she promised to put on one, and next morning ap- peared in the first French night-cap that was ever seen in Ballitore. The plain dress of Edmund disappointed my expectation, and I thought the postillion's habit, daubed with livery lace, much more elegant ; the sight of our guest's laced waistcoat, however, a little reconciled me. Yet when, in taking a survey of the family of his friend, he stood over me, as I sat in a little chair, and viewed me through the glass which assisted his short sight, I felt so abashed and confused, that I directly annexed the idea of austerity to his countenance ; nor could the testimony of 152 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. many witnesses efface that idea till I afterwards saw him in London, in the year 1784, when, with a very uncommon sensation of pleasure and surprise, it was at once put to flight ; for never did I see so much benignity and intelli-- gence united, as in the manly beauty of that countenance, in which were blended the expressions of every superior quality of the head and of the heart." His next visit was to his sister, Mrs. French, at Lough- rea. Garret Burke had died in the preceding year. His mother, his brother Richard, himself and his wife, all met together at Mr. French's hospitable mansion. The warm- hearted people of Galway received him with an Irish welcome, and the freedom of the city was presented to him in a silver box. What a day of joy to his mother's heart, to see her gentle Edmund, now a celebrity of the English Parliament, and the pride of Galway itself 1 Her letter on the occasion is quite delightful : " My dear Nelly, I believe you will think me very vain, but as you are a mother, I hope you will excuse it. I assure you that it is no honour that is done him that makes me vain of him, but the good- ness of his heart, which I believe no man living has a better, and sure there cannot be a better son, nor can there be a better daughter-in-law than his wife." These were the days of the genuine old Ireland jollity. Loughrea was in its glory. " This is" (writes his mother) " a very agreeable town to live in, and I believe there is not a little town in Ireland that has so many families of fortune as there are here. I hope to be in Dublin about the middle of next month, where I will find a great change from a very good table here — two courses ; abroad, a coach and six to take the air — to return to a leg of mutton, and good strong boxes to walk in." When on this visit, he was found one day in the town of Loughrea, in the midst of a number of children who were gathered around a show-man with his movable theatre, during a fair. Burke was making a bargain with the show-man for the admission of the entire group, when EDMUND BURKE. 1 53 Mr. French and other friends came up and caught him in the act. Mr. French proposed to join in the expense. " No," he said, " this must be my own pleasure. I shall, perhaps, never again have the opportunity of making, at so small a cost, so many human beings happy." He next visited his friends in the county of Cork. There was a property there called Clogher, which had been leased by Lord Doneraile to Edmund and Edward Nagle, for a term of thirty-one years, ending about the ist May, 1762. He further demised the same lands to Charles Butler, a Protestant, for the term of 999 years, to commence from the ist of May, 1762. The Nagles were Roman Catholics, and as the law then stood, they could not acquire a greater interest than for thirty-one years. Before the month of July, 1757, John Reade, of this city, took the usual proceeding of what was called a Protestant discoverer, by filing a Bill in the Equity Exchequer, in which he stated the making of the lease to Butler, and that Butler had executed a declaration of trust to Edward and Edmund Nagle. A decree was made in favour of Reade, who then became entitled to the leasehold interest. It is, however, more than probable that all this was a contrivance the more effectually to evade the operation of the odious and oppressive laws ; that Reade was a friendly party, and was put forward in order to prevent any selfish member of the' family, under the title of his conformity to Protestantism, from proceeding to appropriate the whole of the property, in which he could in justice have but a limited interest. In the leasehold each of the next of kin might have a dis- tributive share. The Nagle family had applied to Garret Burke to become the leaseholder ; and on their solicitation, and on an arrangement with them, he consented. It is likely that in this way Reade's name had been used as a formal plaintiff, for, on the 2nd July, 1757, Reade conveyed all the interest he acquired under the decree to Garret Burke. What was then the precise nature of the sub-interests, I cannot say ; but I find on the registry a deed of the 1 5th 1 54 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. July, 1758, by which Robert Nagle mortgaged his interest in these lands to the Rev. W. Nash for ;£'io, and other considerations not mentioned. Garret Burke seems always to have lived on terms of intimacy and affection with the Nagle family, and he left several of them complimentary legacies in his will. Garret appears to have had a steward on the property, to have made improvements and planted trees, and as to the part not occupied by himself, to have protected the interest of the Nagle family according to their own arrangement. In his will he says : " As to the lands of Clogher Shanagh and Killevulling, which I hold under Lord Don- eraile for a long term of years, I leave and bequeath the same to my said brother, the said Edmund Burke, and all my right, title, and property therein, to hold to him, his executors, administrators, and assigns ; and as to the lower part occupied by me only, on account of some improve- ments and planting several trees thereon, I beg he may not sell the same ; but in case it should appear to be to him inconvenient to hold at the distance he lives, and that he may not be imposed upon in the value, I was offered a guinea an acre for them, which are computed to contain forty-nine acres and upwards." When Edmund visited the property in 1766, he saw, the members of the Nagle family, heard their own state- ment as to the arrangement with his brother Garret, and proceeded to deal with it, in accordance with these repre- sentations, in the most kindly spirit. In the letters in the New Monthly Magazine, there is a series, beginning in 1765, from which it appears that, in every way he could befriend the family and connection, he was forward and generous. All the customary gifts and presents in the neighbourhood, which his brother had been used to bestow, are directed to be continued, different members of the family are provided for in various ways, and the most friendly intercourse kept up without interruption, until the claim, to which I have to advert, was made on behalf of Robert Nagle, in 1777. EDMUND BURKE. 1 55; Burke's letter on the expected death of his uncle Nagle (Vol. XIV., p. 386) is characteristic :— " We shall all lose, I believe, one of the very best men that ever lived ; of the clearest integrity, the most genuine principles of religion, and virtue, the most cordial good-nature and benevolence that I ever knew, or think ever shall know. However, it is a comfort that he lived a long, healthy, unblemished life, loved and esteemed by all that knew him, and left children behind him who will cultivate his memory, and, I trust, follow his example ; for, of all the men I have seen in any situation, I really think he is the person I should wish myself, or anyone I greatly loved, the most to resemble. This I do not say from the impression of my immediate feeling ; but from my best judgment, having seen him at various times of my life, from my infancy to the last year, having known him very well and knowing a little (by too long habits) of mankind at large." This was in March, 1768. From this worthy man, Edmund Burke had learned what was the nature of the arrangement with his brother Garret as to the Clogher property. To have it carried out in its proper spirit, he appointed his cousin. Garret Nagle, as his agent ; and it would seem that no act of kindness was omitted, nor one of his kindred forgotten, during the many years of his toilsome public life. The correspondence speaks for itself. For eleven years matters went on, with- out a claim or a complaint from any quarter. I find upon the Registry a deed of 7th August, 1768, by which Robert Nagle covenanted to convey to the Rev. W. Nash the half of the said lands, or such part of them as the said Robert Nagle should recover the possession of, at half the rent pay- able to the head landlord. It was not, however, until the month of November, 1777, that an application was made for the first time to Edmund Burke on behalf of this Robert Nagle, who had nearly twenty years before mort- gaged whatever interest he had to Mr. Nash for ;^io, and, nine years before, covenanted to convey to Nash whatever he might chance to recover ; and at last he submits his 156 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. case and claim, stating that in Garret Burke's time he had turned Protestant in order to entitle himself, as a Protestant discoverer, to file a bill for vesting in him the whole interest, and charging Garret Burke with having betrayed the trust reposed in him by the family. The fact, that all the other members of the Nagle family acquiesced in what had been done — that the respected head of the family had put Ed- mund Burke in possession of the facts — that for eleven years the property had been managed by one of themselves, as the agent of Edmund — that neither this Robert Nagle nor his mortgagee had made application to Edmund Burke when on the property, and when all the parties to the ar- rangement with Garret were alive and at hand — ^that, during the eleven years after he had visited it, they had been silent — and that what Robert Nagle sought was to appropriate the whole to himself, on the false pretence that Garret Burke had acquired it dishonestly, and not under the family arrangement, which had been religiously re- spected — it is not surprising that Edmund should have written, on the 9th December, 1777, in answer to this stale, dishonest demand : " I could not admit his claim, made as he made it, without affecting my brother's memory, and without bringing to beggary the motJier of this unhappy man, his brother, and a very large family of children, his and your nearest relations. Your father, I think yourself, I am sure Garret Nagle, all told me that this would be the infallible tvent of his success in his suit." The whole of this letter I will print in an Appendix. If anyone can read it, in con- nection with the facts I have stated, and retain the most lurking suspicion as to the justice and the generosity of Edmund Burke, I do not envy that reader his head or his heart. The following extract from a pamphlet, said to have been published by the late Sir G. Cockburn, is to be found in a recent number of the Notes and Queries : — " To elude the persecuting rigour of the penal laws in Ireland, a Roman Catholic family made over their estate in EDMUND BURKE. I57 trust to a brother of Mr. E. Burke, a practising attorney in Dublin ; but he thought proper to avail himself of their confidence, claimed and held the estate for himself, and bequeathed it to his elder brother. Mr. O'Connor was employed by this unfortunate family to carry on a suit in the Irish Exchequer to recover this estate. But as the rigid letter of the law was decidedly against their claims, Mr. O'Connor appealed to .Mr. Burke's humanity in their favour. He candidly acknowledged the cruelty and in- justice of the penal laws, and fairly and liberally owned that he would with conscientious pleasure restore the estate, if he did not apprehend that his doing so would throw an indelible stain on his brother's memory." To this extract there is added a comment which begins thus-: " The general truth of these statements is strengthened by a letter from Edmund Burke, dated gth December, 1777." This is the letter to which I have already referred. I have examined every document which I have been enabled to get at, which could throw light on this transaction ; I have communicated with Mr. Nagle, the respected Master of the Crown Office of the Queen's Bench ; I have carefully read the correspondence between Edmund Burke and the Nagle family for many years after he got this property under his brother's bequest, and especially the letter of gth December, lyyy, and I hesitate not to condemn, root and branch, the discreditable publication in the Notes and Queries. The Nagle family never made any claim on Garret or Edmund Burke, for the restoration of any estate, nor ever suggested any breach of trust or confidence. The only claim made on Edmund Burke was made in 1777, not by or on behalf of the Nagle family — not by any complainant establishing that the family arrangement (whatever it was) had in any respect been departed from — but by a single individual, seeking to avail himself of the Popery Laws in derogation of rights and interests which it was the sacred and the bounden duty of Edmund Burke then to protect. It now appears from Garret Burke's will that he himsdf occupied IS8 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. but a small portion of the Clogher property. No record can be found of any proceedings ; I can find nothing but the recital about the suit of Reade. It is not possible to suppose that if Garret Burke had acted with any unfair- ness, the heads of the family would not, in 1766, have sub- mitted the matter to the consideration of Edmund, when on the spot. As to Edmund Burke, could an upright man have acted more honourably or generously than he did ? He receives from the family — from the most respected of its members — their own account of the arrangement with his deceased brother ; he appoints one of themselves to carry it out ; he disturbs no possession, he changes no in- terest, he violates no trust. But when, at the end of eleven years, a claim is made, which, on its own showing, was selfish and dishonest, subversive of the ascertained family arrangement, an impeachment of the honour and good faith of Garret Burke, and not merely without the sanction of one Roman Catholic member of the family, but, according to the expressed opinion of several of them, calculated to work the grossest injustice, even to the aged mother of the man who made it — in rejecting that claim, Edmund Burke acted with a just regard of what was due to his brother's memory, the protection of the Nagle family, and his own high character for honour and humanity. It is false, then, that Garret Burke claimed and held the estate for himself, in breach of any trust or confidence whatsoever. It is equally false that Edmund Burke was appealed to on behalf of the Nagle family, or that he owned that he would with conscientious pleasure restore the estate, if he did not apprehend that his doing so would throw an indelible stain on his brother's memory. It is false that the general truth of these charges is strengthened by the letter of 9th De- cember, 1777. They are each and all displaced — utterly falsified by that very letter. The family made no claim whatsoever, and the only claim which was made by Robert, the conformist, was rejected mainly on the ground that it would defeat the very arrangement under which the EDMUND BURKE. 1 59 family alleged that Garret had been induced to take the assignment. I cannot conceive a greater desecration than this of the honoured memory of the illustrious dead. Without a par- ticle of evidence, against all the plain inferences of reason and justice, to rely on the loose, unscrupulous slanders of a disappointed adventurer, who had been baffled in the attempt to break up, for his own benefit, the arrangement by which all the other members of the family, abided, and from which neither Garret nor Edmund Burke had been shewn to have departed, either in the letter or in the spirit — and next, to paraphrase the rejection of this baseless and dishonest claim repudiated by the family, as an admission by Edmund of a conscientious claim on behalf of that same family, whom Edmund Burke is thus charged with despoil- ing, in compliment to his brother's memory — surely this cannot receive the sanction of any honourable or conscien- tious man. I have dwelt on this perhaps tediously ; but the memory of Edmund Burke is dear to me, his character is now the property of his country. I read the calumny with indignation ; I refute it with gladness. On the 1 6th January, 1767, the freedom of the city of Dublin was presented to him by special grace "in con- sideration of his distinguished abilities so frequently exerted for the advantage of Ireland, in Parliament." In his reply to the Lord Maydr, written from London on the 25th February, 1767, he says : " The honour which I have lately received from my native city has been much heightened by the polite and obliging manner in which your Lordship has been pleased to convey it to me." He concludes by ob- serving that " they cannot overrate my intentions for the welfare of Ireland, for the total of which, if I were not soli- citous, I should ill discharge my duty as a member of this Parliament." This recognition of an imperial trust has been stereo- typed in his memorable speech at the Bristol election in 1774. The altered position of Lord Verney in the county l6o LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. of Buckinghamshire made it needful to change the repre- sentation of Wendover. The honourable return for Bristol is familiar to most of you ; and you remember that cele- brated address, which has always been referred to as the most unexceptionable exposition of Parliamentary duty. I would advise our younger friends to read the speeches at Bristol in 1774, before they study the speeches on America in Parliament ; after these speeches, then to read the " Thoughts on the Present Discontents," and then the " Observations on the State of the Nation." And this may be well followed up by reading the celebrated letters to the Sheriffs of Bristol, and to the other gentlemen of that city — with the memorable and admirable speeches on the occasion when Bristol disgraced itself by rejecting the man who had honoured the constituency by his transcen- dent talents, his comprehensive knowledge, his consistent integrity, and his manly spirit of independence. He had advocated religious liberty because he believed it to be a part, and a vital part, of religious truth, and he hated every form of injustice, partiality, or oppression. He supported the claims of Ireland to share in commercial advantages which were available to England, because he believed that commercial freedom should be available to all, on the terms of equal justice and of common interest. These were the grounds, on which he was now obliged to retire from Bristol, and take refuge in Lord Fitzwilliam's borough of Malton. There was another charge, indeed, made against him — that he had supported a Bill for the relief of insolvent debtors. To this we are indebted for his unrivalled sketch of Howard, the hero of humanity. I dare not begin to give extracts from Burke, for I know not where I could fix the limit of selection. Hazlitt has truly said : " To do him justice, it would be necessary to quote all his works ; the only specimen of Burke is, all that he wrote. He brought his subjects along with him — he drew his materials from himself. The only limits which circum- aqribed his variety were the stores of his own mind. His EDMUND BURKE. l6l mine of wealth was a profound understanding — inexhaust- ible as the human heart, and various as the sources of nature. He, therefore, enriched every subject to which he applied himself, and new subjects were only the occasions of calling forth fresh powers of mind which had not been before exerted." I may, however, observe, in passing, that Sergeant Burke has published a volume of extracts, en- titled " The Wisdom and Genius of Burke " — a book of gems, selected with a nice discrimination. I have brought Burke again to England, after his visit to Ireland, which I have described. He was now much in communication with the heads of his party, and especially with the Marquis of Rockingham and the Duke of Port- land. I have already adverted to Beaconsfield, in connec- tion with Edmund Waller, Burke's favourite poet. This was near to Hillingdon, where Lord Rockingham then resided, and convenient to Bulstrode, where the Duke of Portland resided. There was a demesne called " Gre- gories," or Butler's Court, close to Beaconsfield, which then belonged to a Mr. Lloyd, who desired to dispose of it. His price was ;^20,ooo for the house as it stood, fully fur- nished, and six hundred acres of land; Doubtless the Marquis must have desired, for many reasons, to see Burke in possession as a proprietor and a neighbour ; and by his delicate and judicious assistance this was already accom- plished. In April, 1768, the treaty was concluded. On the ist of May, 1768, Burke writes to Richard Shackleton : " As to myself, I am, by the very singular kindness of some friends, in a way very agreeable to me. Again elected on the same interest, I have made a push, with all I could collect of my own, and the aid of my friends, to cast a little root in this country. I have purchased a house with an estate of about six hundred acres of land in Buckinghamshire, twenty-four miles from London, where I now am. It is a place ex- (Ceedingly pleasant, and I propose (God willing) to become a farmer in good earnest. You, who are classical, will not M l62 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. be displeased to hear that it was formerly the seat of Waller the poet, whose house, or part of it, makes at pre- sent the farm-house within an hundred yards of me." Mr. Lloyd died before the transaction was completed, and his property was administered under the direction of the Court of Chancery. The Court by its decree directed the contract with Mr. Burke to be carried into execution. I have been furnished with copies of the proceedings, and of the documents, from which I find that there were incum- brances and charges on the property, which were paid off by Burke in the month of February, 1769, amounting to the sum of £6,611 17s- lod. There was a further sum of ;£'io,400 advanced to Burke in mortgage by Caroline Williams, and £'^,600 advanced on another mortgage by Admiral Sir Charles Saunders. These two mortgages re- mained outstanding until the sale of the property by Mrs. Burke, in 1 8 1 2, when they were paid off out of the purchase- money. The furniture and effects in the house were valued at .£'2,823 8s. Not long before this. Garret Burke had left Edmund almost the whole of his property — his house and effects in Dublin, his mortgages, judgments, and all costs due to him from clients — and made him his sole executor and residuary legatee. Garret was a bachelor, had suc- ceeded early to his father's business, was his executor and residuary legatee, and was very successful himself in his profession. It is obvious, therefore, that the property which Garret had left to Edmund, and which probably had been realized in cash just about this time, enabled him, with an advance which he got from Lord Rockingham, and with the sums secured by the two mortgages, to complete his purchase. He had not to resort to the Clogher estate, which continued to be managed as the Nagle family had themselves ap- proved. It would have been easy to have raised more on mortgage ; but it was not necessary. Lord Rockingham, with that delicacy of feeling which characterized him, merely took a bond for the amount of his advance, just to EDMUND BURKE. 163 relieve Burke from the pressure of obligation ; for it now appears that he wrote a discharge upon it, and cancelled the obligation ; this was not communicated to Burke until after the death of his lordship. Lord Fitzwilliam, who in- formed Burke of what had been done, added that the Mar- quis never did an act in his life which gave him greater satisfaction. Through the courtesy of Mr. Dupre, the present pro- prietor, and his respectable solicitor, Mr. Young, I have been furnished with all the information which can be derived from the title-deeds and the proceedings in Chan- cery. I got the copy of Garret Burke's will from the office in Dublin. There is nothing discoverable in the whole transaction which is not consistent with the honour of Burke ; but until this day, it has been a theme for in- sinuations intended to disparage his memory. One author, who wrote a History of Buckinghamshire, has ventured to announce that Lord Verney was so closely attached to Lord North and Fox, that in his zeal he gave Burke ;C20,ooo to purchase Butler's Court. Fox had not even entered the House of Commons when the purchase was contracted for. Burke was at that time in the height of opposition — resolute opposition — to Lord North. But the money of the two mortgages at least was not supplied by the liberality of Lord Verney. This was honestly repaid in 18 1 2, when it was deducted out of the produce of the sale of the property. Another authority, Mr. M'Cormick, gives Lord Rock- ingham the merit of the entire advance of £20,000. Lord Verney, who became involved in much embarrass- ment, and who may have had pecuniary transactions with William Burke, afterwards, about 1779, made a general demand against Edmund, which he repeated in 1782, but without specifying its nature or amount; and in June, 1783, filed a bill in Chancery stating that in, or shortly before, 1769, he had been applied to by William Burke to advance :^6,ooo, to be secured by bond and the assignment of a 164 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. mortgage from Edmund, and that in March, 1769, he paid the ;^6,ooo to the account of Joseph Hickey, an attorney of WilHam or Edmund Burke, and that it was, soon after the month of March, applied for the benefit of Edmund Burke, in the discharging the money then due on his estate. Now, in the first place, this is a mere unsupported asser- tion of a man who appears then involved in several suits in Chancery ; William Burke was absent in India, and no account is given as to the drawing out of the money so as to show how it was in fact applied, or for whose use or benefit. It does not appear that any bond from Edmund had ever been required, or any assignment of a mortgage or other security whatsoever for any such advance. All the incumbrances had been paid off in February, and yet the statement in the bill is, that Lord Verney paid in the ;^6,ooo on the 14th March, and that it was applied for the benefit of Edmund Burke after the said month of March. But we have the sworn answer of Edmund Burke to the unsworn statements of this bill. In this, Burke denies that he ever had authorized any application to Lord Verney for such a loan, or that he ever obtained it, or that Hickey was concerned as his attorney or agent, though he may have been attorney for William Burke ; that the money he required was voluntarily offered by another friend, and did not come from Lord Verney, and was applied on or about the 20th or 21st February, 1769, in discharge of the incumbrances. It does not appear that Lord Verney ever took a further step in the suit — in fact, he was completely put out of Court. Whatever may have been his money transactions with William Burke, however the balance would have stood between them, there is no ground whatsoever on which a charge could then have been fastened on the property, or an imputation on the character, of Edmund. The contract for the purchase was completed early in 1768. According to the arrangement, as we now see it in all its parts, Burke could not have required more than one or two thousand pounds (if so EDMUND BURKE. 165 much), in addition to what he may reasonably be supposed to have had of his own. What could have been more natural than for the Marquis of Rockingham to have offered whatever he might require on the occasion ? What could be more creditable to all parties than the simple solution, which is now confirmed by the letter of Lord Fitzwilliam ? And, just as in the case of Clogher, it was not until after the lapse of years that any complaint was preferred. " Believe me," said Bishop O'Beirne, " if there be an obscure point in the life or conduct of Edmund Burke, the moment the explanation arrives, it will be found to redound to his honour." I have found it so, in the two instances to which I have been induced to direct my attention by the insinuations of the anonymous assail- ants in the Notes and Queries of very recent date. The last of these attacks shows the animus with which all have been written. Two autographs of Edmund Burke — a bond and bill of exchange — were bought in July last, and these have been formally published in the Notes and Queries of the 26th April, in order to show that Edmund Burke had been in great want of money, and had very little credit. What a miserable attempt at calumny is this ! The English trader, who had just invested some of the gains of speculation in an estate, in the pride of an upstart, said to a noble lord : " After all, my Lord, who is this Mr. Burke that they make such a fuss about ? Why, he is nobody. He has not got our number of acres, my Lord!' But that men, connected in any way with the literature of England, should stoop to the task-work of slandering the memory of Edmund Burke — sneering at his "honest poverty" — the honourable efforts by which he sought to relieve the severity of his toilsome and laborious life— his desire to gain a position which might increase his influence without any compromise of his independence — that, without any solid imputation upon his honour and integrity — against the evidence that points to the simple, natural conclusion on which no unworthy 1 66 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. suspicion ought to be suffered to cast even a passing shadow — that they who should be the foremost in the defence should be the fiercest in the assault upon his honoured name and memory — is deeply to be lamented. Have they forgotten the well-known history of Crabbe, or of Barry — the noble generosity, the genial sympathy, of Edmund Burke towards the unbefriended, struggling sons of genius ? " He is not with me, nor I dare say with you, the less a hero for being unfortunate," writes Edmund Burke of Emin, the Armenian. " He has attempted great things, gone through infinite labours and infinite perils, and is at last where he set out, poor and friendless in Bengal!' {J)ublin Univ. Mag., May, 1833.) This was his very title to Burke's special interference on his behalf It was the same in the case of Barry and of Crabbe. " To esteem a man's being friendless as a recommendation — dejection and incapacity of struggling through the world as a motive for assisting him — in a word, to consider these circumstances of disadvantage, which are usually thought a sufficient reason for neglect and overlooking a person, as a motive for helping him forward — this is the course of benevolence which compassion marks out and directs us to ; this is that humanity which is so peculiarly becoming our nature and circumstances in this world." Such is the mild wisdom, such are the monitory words of Butler. Slanderers of Edmund Burke, go and do likewise ! Miser- able and pointless, indeed, is the last effort to dishonour his good name. Richard Burke, the younger brother of Edmund, was called to the Bar in 1778, and the bond which has been so heartlessly paraded is probably the common security which was required to be lodged before the call. It was executed by Richard and Edmund Burke to Christopher Hargrave, of Lincoln's Inn. The bill is for £Z77> in favour of William Burke, who was just about leaving England for India, and may have required, either as a repayment or an advance, this sum of money. It is not a little remarkable that, just about this period, a EDMUND BURKE. 167 number of the Roman Catholics of Dublin, in their ap- preciation of the services of Edmund Burke, in procuring a relaxation of the penal code, had resolved on presenting him with a sum of five hundred guineas, as a token of their gratitude, which he unhesitatingly declined. If he was then pressed in his private circumstances, the more credit- able was his spirit of independence ; if the bill was given to William Burke merely as a matter of convenience at the time, the insinuation attempted is as baseless as it is un- generous. I must pass hastily over the great plan of economical reform which he introduced in 1780. Lord Russell says : "It is one of the greatest achievements of his eloquence." It was a good beginning ; it helped to purify the channel of government, and to raise the moral character of the House of Commons. He looked to a plan of retrench- ment, the reduction of sinecures and emoluments, the abolishing of occasions for peculation and jobbing, the abating of the corrupt influence of the Court party, or of the Minister of the day, as a more urgent and more practi- cal measure of reform, than organic changes in the repre- sentation, which might only open a wider field for the exercise of that very influence which he sought to eradicate. As on other great occasions, he had mastered his new subject in all its aspects and its details. He presented it in one complete, comprehensive exposition ; his object was to economize on principle. He kept in view the leading maxim, that efficiency leads to economy, and that a service which is made thoroughly efficient in all its departments, is the most likely to be the least expensive to the country. In all the movements of progress patience and perseverance are required. There is a time of preparation — a sowing of the seed — a growth — a ripening — and a harvest. When the Rockingham Cabinet returned to office early in 1782, Burke was himself appointed to the office of Paymaster. Lord Rockingham may have at first selected this for him, in con- sideration of his fidelity to his party, and his invaluable 1 63 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. services as their chief counsellor. The emoluments of the office made it one of the most lucrative, and the receipt of these emoluments continued long after the tenure of the office had expired. The balances usually in the hands of the Paymaster were considerably in excess of the require- ments of the service, thereby enabling him to realize large sums by retaining the interest, for which he was not accountable. Upon his resignation, he was permitted, and if he died, his representative was permitted, to retain the balance until the final adjustment of his accounts by the auditors. This was generally delayed for several years to come. After Burke's great speech in February, 1780, when he was supported by William Pitt in his maiden speech that was so favourably received at the time, Lord North had to take up the matter, and appoint Commissioners to enquire into the state of the public accounts, and Burke was enabled to give effect to his own policy, and the report of the Commissioners, by the measure which he introduced and carried in June, 1782. The Paymaster was made merely the hand by whom the army services should be paid, but no longer allowed to be the banker of the army. The custody of the cash was transferred to the Bank of England ; the salary was reduced to ;^4,ooo a-year during the tenure of office, without the banking profits. Edmund wrote on the 24th April, 1782, to William Burke — "The office is to be reformed according to the bill ; there is enough of emoluments ; in decency it could not be more." He was the first Paymaster who gave up to the public the large profits that had been previously considered as the rightful emoluments of the Paymaster not only during the tenure of his office, but afterwards until his accounts were audited and closed. The auditing came on in a settled course of rotation, and so as to give abundant opportunity to each who held the office to make his fortune at the pub- lic expense. When it is remembered that in this way Lord Holland, who had been Paymaster, had realized for his own profit, after his resignation in 1765, until 1778, when his EDMUND BURKE. 1 69 accounts were audited and closed, about £24S,^g4 of in- terest on his balances, and that Edmund Burke secured for the public benefit all the proceeds beyond the bare salary of ;^4,ooo a-year to the Paymaster for the time being, him- self being the first to accept the reduced allowance — we may be the less surprised at the payment of ;^ 140,000 by Lord Holland, for the gambling debts of his son Charles James Fox, and the more surprised at some of the calum- nies that have been hatched in Holland House against Edmund Burke. For the present, I would simply say — " Look here, upon this picture, and on this." It was at this time (June, 1782) that Miss Burney first met Burke at dinner, in the hospitable mansion of Sir Joshua Reynolds, at Richmond Hill. Her description of him is graphic : " He is tall ; his figure is noble — his air com- manding — his address graceful — his voice is clear, pene- trating, sonorous, and powerful — his language is copious, various, and eloquent — his manners are attractive — his con- versation delightful." When she describes Richard Burke as humorous and entertaining, but with a forwardness of manner that she disliked, she adds, " How unlike his brother !" From all I can trace in the records of the Club in Dublin, and in the Cavendish Reports, his manner in debate was by no means in keeping with the matter of his speeches. His accent was racy of the soil ; though he had (as It is said) got Macklin (the actor) to cure his Scotch friend Wedderburne of his peculiarities, he does not seem to have remedied his own. His action was sometimes vehement — his temper inflammable — his manner persistent ; he did not modulate his voice nor sufficiently adapt himself to the inexorable requirements of the Hoiise of Commons. It was on great occasions — when there was a spring-tide of feeling — when he had deep water and wide sea-room — that his wonderful powers were exhibited, as well by the im- mediate impressions of eloquence as by the enduring lyo LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. influence of his own wisdom. Nothing in his hands was ephemeral. His effusions on the most passing events, on the lightest things of the time, are stamped with a worth and value for all time. There is an under-current of thought — a wisdom in his aphorisms — which, uniting with the gorgeous grandeur of his imagination, have made what he thought and spoke and wrote an enduring monument. Too didactic and deliberate sometimes, too curious and refined in his developments for the rapid demands of gene- ral debate — yet this has embalmed his eloquence. And so (as Coleridge says of him in the Friend) he " has taken away for Englishmen" (may I add, for Irishmen?) "all cause for humiliation from the names of Demosthenes and Cicero; — has left our language a bequest of glory un- rivalled, and all his own, in the keen-eyed yet far-sighted genius with which he has almost uniformly made the most original and profound general principles of political wisdom, and even the recondite laws of human passions, bear upon particular measures and events. While of the harangues of Pitt, Fox, and their elder compeers, on the most import- ant occurrences, we retain a few unsatisfactory fragments alone, the very flies and weeds of Burke shine to us through the purest amber, imperishably enshrined and valuable from the precious material of their embalmment." In 1780 there was a proposal made for bringing new blood into the Ministry ; and, amongst others, of getting Burke and Charles James Fox to accept office. As to Fox, said the old King, in communicating with Lord North, "If any lucrative, not ministerial, office can be pointed out for him, provided he will support the Ministry, I shall have no objection to the proposition. He never had any principle, and can therefore act as his interest may guide him. Messrs. Townsend and Burke would be reed acquisitions'' There is in this an undue severity on Fox, whose early education had inflicted on him habits for which his father was mainly responsible ; but under the influence of the example and friendship of Burke, he had taken and main- EDMUND BURKE. 171 tained a high political position. In a letter of 26th Octo- ber, 1777, Burke writes of him to his cousin, Garret Nagle, on the occasion of Fox's visit to Ireland : " Don't you like Charles Fox ? If you were not pleased on that short ac- quaintance, you would on a further, for he is one of the pleasantest men in the world, as well as the greatest genius that perhaps this country has ever produced. If he is not extraordinary, I assure you the British dominions cannot furnish anything beyond him." {New Monthly, Vol. XIV., P- S3 3") He was twenty years younger than Burke. But the royal estimate of Burke is not a little remark- able, remembering how unswerving he was on the great questions in which the King took so strong an interest ; how unsparing in his efforts to reduce the influence of the Court, but ever with a due and dignified regard to the genuine principles of the Act of Settlement, and the equi- ties of the British Constitution. How was it, then, that in 1782 he did not get a seat in the Cabinet ? He was made a Privy Councillor, it is true, and he got a valuable office ; but if ever there was a man fitted for a seat in the Cabinet, that man was Edmund Burke. It is often said that our countrymen, with their impulsive tempers and mercurial temperament, tainted with the angry controversies which so often embitter and divide us, do not show the desire for handling imperial policy, nor the acquaintance with the larger topics of imperial government, which indicates an enlightened capacity, and gives security for dealing with the general interests of this great empire, with that large liberality that alone deserves the name of statesmanship. Whether this can be justly urged as an excuse for the habitual exclusion of Irishmen from a council where Eng- lish and Scotch Ministers, not always the most enlightened, nor the least provincial, are unhesitatingly admitted, I will not here discuss, though I cannot, indeed, deny that I feel the degradation. In the case of Edmund Burke, where was the wisdom so comprehensive, the knowledge of every part of the empire so profound, where was the mind so 172 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. enlightened ? If (as Bacon says) the general counsels, and the plots and the marshalling of affairs, come best from those that are learned, who was then so learned, so ready in all that concerned the prosperity and the pre-eminence of England, as our own Edmund Burke ? The death of Lord Rockingham a few months after his return to office dissolved the Cabinet. It was a great affliction to Burke in every way. His exquisite sketch of his deceased friend, inscribed on the monument erected to his memory, is per- haps unequalled for purity and depth of feeling, tender and chaste expression, for truthful and touching delineation. Lord Shelburne succeeded to the office of Premier; but Burke would not serve under him. He had been under- mining the Rockingham Administration before the death of the Marquis, but his own regime was a short one. In March, 1783, Burke writes to his friend Richard Shackleton: " We have demolished the Earl of Shelburne ; but in his fall he has pulled down a large piece of the building ; he had indeed undermined it before. This wicked man, and no less weak and stupid than false and hypocritical, has contrived to break to pieces the body of men whose integ- rity, wisdom, and union were alone capable of giving con- sistency to public measures, and recovering this kingdom from the miserable state into which it is fallen Adieu, my dear friend, and know the value of the sweet spot of the world, and the sweet state of life, in which God has placed you, far from these storms." — ("Leadbeater Papers," Vol. II., p. 133.) In the coalition Ministry which was formed under the headship of the Duke of Portland, Burke resumed his office of Paymaster, but again without a seat in the Cabinet. In 1784 this Ministry was broken up by the King, in conse- quence of the celebrated India Bill ; but before I take up the memorable part of the life of Burke connected with the affairs of India, I may notice one or two matters collateral which will be interesting to many. It has been said that before he began his political life, he had sought the Chair of Logic in the University of Glasgow. EDMUND BURKE. 173 I have been informed by my respected friend Professor Buchanan, that from all- he has ever learned on the subject, the fact was, that Burke had felt his way, but did not actually come forward as a candidate, when Mr. Clow was elected. In 1784, when he was chosen to be Lord Rector, on his visit for the purpose of Installation, he was accom- panied from Edinburgh by Lord Lauderdale, Adam Smith, Dugald Stewart, and Professor Dalzel, who has recorded that Burke was highly gratified with his reception. He was re-elected in the following year. "In my early College days " (says Professor Buchanan, in a letter to me) " there was a floating tradition among our collegians, that at one part of his speech, in his inaugural address, he suddenly paused and got embarrassed, but that, quickly recovering himself, he adroitly turned his hesitation to rhetorical ac- count, ascribing his embarrassment to the circumstance that he had not been accustomed to address so learned an audience." Mr. Dalzel, quite as full of admiration of Burke as Johnson himself was, has noticed his rare conversational powers, and has added that " when dining with the Uni- versity after the ceremony of the Installation, he delighted everybody." No report of his address has been preserved. There is an anecdote of Burke which has always struck me as affording one of the most striking and beautiful proofs of the largeness and childlike lovingness of his Chris- tian heart. He was returning at night from the House of Commons, when he was accosted by a female, whose tone and manner caught his attention. A poor victim of sin and shame, she was now wayfaring, deserted, and destitute. He began to moralize, she to implore his charity ; she told him her tale of sorrow — it went straight to his heart. By this time he had reached the home which was always to him a refuge from his cares. Here he had befriended Barry ; here he had saved for mankind the genius of the poet Crabbe. The suppliant now before him was but a poor child of misfortune — her touching story spoken with the idiom of truth, that falsehood cannot imitate ; her 174 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. seeming desolation touched his sj'mpathizing heart — ^just as his door was opened to admit himself. " Are you will- ing," said he, "to give up your present life of sin?" He was answered with that fervour which marked the sudden transition from despair to hope. She would, indeed she would. " Walk in then," said he. He directed her to be taken care of, and in the morning handed her over to the charge of his faithful wife. I have never heard what was her destiny afterwards ; but the God of love and mercy — He who delivered her by the hand of His servant from the depth of her desolation — could also save her from her sin ; and His Word has assured us " that he which converteth the sinner from the error of his way, shall save a soul from death, and shall hide a multitude of sins." It would appear that in 1779, when a proposition had been on foot for bringing in some of the Rockingham party into the Ministry, one of the reasons for their refusal to join was this, that the question of the East India Company and their possessions was not at all noticed. They looked upon it as of vital consequence. Lord Clive had returned to Eng- land in 1767, and he writes at that time to a friend : " It is certain that both the Directors and Parliament are superla- tively ignorant of our affairs abroad ; notwithstanding the great lights received in the late enquiries, yet still they re- main in the dark, and comprehend nothing about it." In 1766 Burke had spoken on the subject in the House. Of this speech Flood wrote to Lord Charlemont — " Our friend Burke acquitted himself very honourably." Sir M. Fether- stonehaugh wrote to Lord Clive — " The finest piece of oratory was Burke's." In taking his survey of the empire of England at that early time, India was not overlooked. In Grote's " History of Greece" (Vol. XII., p. 357) the learned author refers to the distinction which Aristotle drew for his royal pupil Alexander between the colonies of Greeks and the barbarians (non Hellenes) ; he recom- mended him to behave to the former as a leader or presi- dent or limited chief — to the latter as a master. This EDMUND BURKE. 175 distinction (says Mr. Grote) substantially coincides with that pointed out by Burke in his speeches at the beginning of the American War, between the principles of government proper to be followed by England in the American Colo- nies and in British India. Aristotle had noted the differ- ence between Europeans and Asiatics. The former were courageous and energetic, but wanting in intelligence or power of political combination ; the latter intelligent and clever in contrivance, but destitute of courage. And Mr. Grote well observes, that the distinction intended by Aris- totle was between a greater and a less measure of extra popular authority — not between kind and unkind purposes in the exercise of authority. India required the exercise of power guided by wisdom and restrained by justice ; but avarice and ambition had usurped the office of assessors to an authority which had originated in commerce and was established by conquest. I need not go behind the enquiries which took place before the Secret and the Select Com- mittees of the House of Commons in 1781. Dundas, the Lord Advocate, presided over the one, aided by Francis, who had been for several years a member of the Bengal Council. Burke was the most diligent member of the Select Committee. The scenes and transactions disclosed to these Committees exposed a course of policy carried on under Warren Hastings, which Lord Russell has tersely and truly described as " conceived in an Indian spirit of trick, perfidy, cruelty, and falsehood. His means were violent, his end was subversive of morality." He had baffled every attempt at local enquiry ; and the well-known fate of the Brahmin Nuncomar had made all accusation terrible; not to himself, but to his accusers. Dundas brought the matter fully be- fore the House of Commons, who at his instance resolved, in effect, that Hastings should be recalled ; that he had in sundry instances acted in a manner repugnant to the honour and policy of the nation, and thereby brought great calam- ities on India ; and that the policy pursued deserved some signal mark of the displeasure of Parliament. This was 176 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. confirmed by the Directors ; but the proprietors of Indian , stock, only concerned in the gains and profits, and caring not about the means, however cruel or perfidious, by which their dividends were increased, interposed and reversed the order of the Directors. Thus he was enabled to baffle Par- liamentary control, as he had already defeated every attempt at local enquiry. Indian conquests at this time gratified the national pride, which had been humiliated by the loss of America, and so may have much influenced the estimate then formed of Clive and Hastings. "A man," says Butler, "whose temper is formed to ambition or covetousness, shall even approve of them sometimes in others." The lust of private gain, and the love of national glory, were sufficient to transfigure the tyranny over the feeble and oppressed Hindoo, and to dignify it with the title of the British Go- vernment of India. England had begun to forget what her great Bishop had told the House of Lords in 1740, that " the fundamental laws of all governments are virtuous ones, prohibiting treachery, injustice, cruelty ; and the law of reputation enforces those civil laws by rendering these vices everywhere infamous." Several years had elapsed since Burke had nobly written : " The poorest being that crawls on earth, contending to save itself from injustice and oppression, is an object respectable in the eyes of God and man." This was in his letter to the sheriffs of Bristol in 1777, in which he has also said : " Nor can any reason whatever be given why one people should voluntarily yield any degree of pre-eminence to another but on a supposition of great affection and benevolence towards them." He threw himself heart and soul into this Indian enquiry, with a diligence never surpassed ; his giant intellect grappled with questions the most abstruse — language, laws, and customs — the history and the habits of the millions who had been brought under our dominion ; his elevated morality, his passion for justice, his large and generous heart constrained him to track Warren Hastings in all his EDMUND BURKE. I77 crooked deviations from the immutable standard of that eternal equity whose seat is the bosom of God. He vexed his righteous soul over the career of Hastings, until at last he felt that he had a mission to unmask and denounce the wrongs of the oppressor. The independence of America and the legislative equality of Ireland had been recently acknowledged during his tenure of office. The India Bill of Fox was the next great measure of policy. The speech of Burke in its sup- port is indeed much to be remembered — much for its glowing eloquence, more for its lofty wisdom. The fate of that Bill, the fate of the ministry by which it was proposed, the undue influence of the Sovereign, and the servility of the Peers, we can look back upon with complacency ; but how must they have affected the spirit of Edmund Burke ? Still he was not daunted ; and in the new Parliament, under Pitt as Premier, upon which the influence of the Hastings party (and their name was legion) had been brought to bear at the General Election, he made his memorable speech on the Nabob of Arcot's debts, which exposed the frauds and corruptions of Indian Mammonism, and brought before the conscience of England the iniquity, the cruelty, and the oppression of her Indian rule. The distance of these scenes, the ignorance and the indifference of the English public, the opportunity for avarice and ambition to riot uncontrolled, the energy and the boldness with which Hastings carried forward his work of conquest, the in- fluence exercised by means of the Indian patronage, of which so many families in England had the benefit, and by means of the plunder in which so many adventurers par- took ; besides all this, the inflamed prejudices of the Sovereign against the authors and supporters of the India Bill — must it not have been almost a forlorn hope for Burke to persevere further in the exposure or accusation of Hastings ? But he was resolved. He had a moral mission. He saw that this great empire in India could only be maintained N 178 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. by a moral title, by the exercise of a righteous authority-w that England would not be allowed to hold India, merely to place her Belial and her Mammon among the gods of the heathen. Hastings had returned to England, and Burke soon commenced his celebrated course of impeachr ment. When he opened his first charge in the House of Com- mons, Dundas, who was then Secretary for India, and had been in communication with Hastings, seemed as if pre- pared to screen him if he could ; but there stood recorded his own resolutions carried in 1782. He shuffled — he thought Hastings had been highly culpable, but not criniU nally responsible — and then relied on the staleness of the charge, and the recent acts of Hastings since the con- demnatory resolutions, which he set off against his former delinquencies. No man, except Burke or Francis, was better acquainted with the whole matter than Dundas ; he had evidently prepared Pitt to support Hastings, whose powerful influence in Parliament had been given to the Ministry, and the general understanding was, that the friends of the Government should vote against the impeach- ment. On the first charge, therefore, Burke was beaten ; but Pitt had not spoken on this charge, but had anxiously listened to the debate, and evidently been shaken in his reliance on Dundas. On the second charge he spoke. For a short time he seemed to be the apologist, but suddenly became the accuser. This took the House by surprise ; it was sudden and unexpected. He came over beside Wilber- force, and told him he could no longer in conscience stand by Hastings. The simple and natural explanation is, I am confident, the true one : he had depended on Dundas, but the debate undeceived him ; his clear intellect, his con- science, and his moral conviction told him that the attempt to screen such a delinquent was unrighteous and unjustifi- able. The charges were carefully sifted ; Hastings was heard at the bar of the House in his own defence ; ample time was given for the most complete consideration of the EDMUND BURKE. 179 . case in all its bearings; Pitt, aided by Dundas, minutely and carefully examined into the charges, the evidence, and the defence. What was the result ? " The truth is " (says Dundas, in a letter to Lord Cornwallis) " when we exa- : mined the various articles of charges against him, with his defences, they were so strong, and the defences so perfectly unsupported, it was impossible not to concur." On the second reading of the resolutions, which were finally agreed . to in Committee, and afterwards proposed to the House,; Pitt spoke without reserve. After referring to the crimi- nality of several parts of the different charges, he said : " In all of these, there were instances of the most violent acts of injustice, tyranny, and oppression — acts which had never been attempted to be vindicated except on the plea of, necessity ; what that necessity was had never been proved ;, but there was no necessity whatsoever which could excuse such actions as these, attended with such circumstances." After pointing out what might be a case of necessity, he said : " But was this the principle on which Mr. Hastings went ? No, he neither avowed the necessity nor the exac-, tion ; he made criminal charges, and, under the colour of them, he levied heavy and inordinate penalties, seizing that which, if he had a right to take it at all, he would be highly criminal in taking in such a shape, but which, having no right to take, the mode of taking it rendered it much more, heinous and culpable." In reference to the charge as tQ Cheyt Sing, he said that Hastings was " doubly criminal, for the offence of rapacity and extortion, and for creating the necessity of that offence by prodigality and profusion j and a still higher aggravation arose from the manifest and palpable corruption attending that prodigality ; to what else could be attributed the private allowances made to Heyden Beg Khan, the minister of the Nabob Vizier, and the sums paid to the Vakeel of Cheyt Sing, when it is; remembei;ed that the one led the way to the treaty of Chunar, and the other to the revolution in Benares ?" Nor was all this to be compared in any respect with the inveSf i8q lectures, essays, and letters. tigation of a grand jury. There had been the laborious enquiries of two Committees, who had made no less than seventeen reports ; and also a full and protracted inves- tigation before the House itself, with liberty to Hastings to make his own defence ; and then the deliberate and careful revision by Pitt himself, having at his side the most com- petent man in the House to guide him circumspectly, and not the least willing to relieve Hastings from the criminal charge. So complete and conclusive was the result, that when Burke moved at last, " that there is ground for im- peaching the said Warren Hastings of high crimes and misdemeanours," the resolution was carried without the appearance of one dissenting vote. Lord Russell justly observes: "There is no sufficient reason to doubt the jus- tice of a decision by which crimes committed in the East were subjected to a prosecution founded on the general maxims of law and the eternal precepts of morality." Who has not lingered over the description of the pomp and pageantry of that scene in Westminster Hall at the opening of the impeachment, which Macaulay has so ex- quisitely painted in his brilliant colours, still fresh and glowing? Fanny Burney was there, inhaling the Court influence, which had transformed Hastings into a martyr ; she describes Burke as he entered the Hall : " He held a scroll in his hand, and walked alone, his brow knit with corroding care and deep labouring thought — a brow how different to that which had proved so alluring to my warm- est admiration when first I met him, so highly as he had been my favourite, so captivating as I had found his man- ners and conversation in our first acquaintance, and so much as I had owed to his zeal and kindness to me and my affairs, in its progress. How did I grieve to behold him now the cruel prosecutor (such to me he appeared) of an injured and innocent man." And then, as to the speech of Burke : " All I had heard of his eloquence, and all I had conceived of his great abilities, was more than answered by his performance. Nervous, clear, and striking, was almost EDMUND BURKE. 181 all he uttered." She then describes some of his digressions, and his agreeable irregularity, and adds : " When he nar-r rated, he was easy, flowing, and natural ; when he de- claimed, energetic, warm, and brilliant. The sentiments he interspersed were as nobly conceived as they were highly coloured. His satire had a poignancy of wit that made it as entertaining as it was penetrating ; his allusions and quotations, as far as they were English, and within my reach, were apt and ingenious ; and the wild and sudden flight of his fancy, bursting forth from his creative imagina- tion, in language fluent, forcible, and varied, had a charm for my ear and my attention wholly new and perfectly irresistible." In Lord Auckland's " Memoirs," lately pub- lished, there are some letters which refer to this scene, Mr. Storer, who figures much in the book, speaks of " the Pro-consul of Asia attacked by the Irishman Burke ;" but afterwards he says of the speech : " He was very cool, and was not extravagant in action, tone, or manner, as you have often seen him in the House of Commons." Again : " The manners, at least the hours, of London, are com- pletely changed. Everybody is up by 9 o'clock ; the ladies have finished their toilette by that time, and are at the door of Westminster Hall, pressing and squeezing to get good places within. Wonderful have been the effects of Burke's eloquence. Even she who has drawn tears from so many others, has shed them on hearing Mr. Burke's description of India. Mrs. Siddons, they say, was, like Niobe, all tears, and Mrs. Sheridan fainted away." There is a letter of Lord Sheffield to Mr. Eden which deserves notice. " Burke's charges made a very consider- able impression and alteration in the silly public ; but as none but downright enemies to Hastings will come forward to give evidence against him, and as such evidence will be slighted, and arguments alone will not do, I suppose the opinions in the end will not be unfavourable to Hastings." His Lordship adds, that Hastings had declared in his de- fence that profit was a justifiable and proper motive for going to war. 182 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. In the Committees of the House of Commons all the evidence which could bring the whole truth forward was got at, without any technical obstructions. Besides, before the House itself, the accused was heard on his own behalf — a privilege which is always favourable to innocence, but generally fatal to guilt. There he was convicted. At the bar of the Lords he had all the benefit of the narrow rules of evidence by which at that time the truth was kept back, and, witnesses adverse to the prosecution or treacherous to the prosecutors were enabled so to guard their evidence as to defeat justice — rules which have since been condemned and repealed. Indeed, the India Bill of Mr. Pitt had recog- nised the insufficiency of English procedure to get at the truth, in the case of offences committed in India, which deserved condemnation in England. With all this Burke had to contend, and the advocates of Hastings did not scruple to avail themselves of every crotchet which could embarrass. They declined any defence until all the charges were exhausted, thus accumulating difficulty and heaping up confusion. Had each charge been taken separately, a conviction on some would probably have been had. But the adjournments and delays, the discussions on evidence, the whining of Hastings himself, the wrangling of the lawyers, the occasional vehemence of Burke, excited by moral indignation and physical temperanient, all contri- buted to nauseate the public, who at last began to think that all this perseverance in accusation savoured somewhat of persecution. I have observed that Hastings himself made his own defence in the Commons, and the insufficiency of his defence had been noticed by Dundas in his letter to Lord Cornwallis. In the Lords he had the protection of the rule of law which does not admit the accused to be made a witness. But we are told that whilst listening to Burke's speech, he felt, for at least half an hour, such a deep sense of his guilt, that it was not until he took refuge in his own contemplations, that his conscience was quieted. If he was EDMUND BURKE. I'gj" really guilty, this is all quite natural ; if he was not guilty, I am unable to explain it. " Those courses," says Butler, "which if men would fairly attend to the dictates of their own consciences, they would see to be corruption, excess, oppression, uncharitableness ; these are refined upon— things were so and so circumstantiated — great difficulties ^ were raised about fixing bounds and degrees ; and thus ' every moral obligation whatever may be avoided. Here is scope for an unfair mind to explain away every moral" obligation to itself" Again he says : " There is not a word in our language which expresses more detestable wicked- ness than oppression ; yet the nature of this vice cannot be" so exactly stated, nor the bounds of it so determinately marked, as that we shall be able to say, in all instances, where rigid right and justice end and oppression begins.' In these cases there is great latitude left for everyone to determine for and consequently to deceive himself." Erskine, when he defended the publishers of a defence of Hastings whilst the impeachment was pending, made the " bold bad" case for him, that the British dominion in India had been acquired, and could only be maintained, by fraud and force. Other eminent men have rather recom- mended him to mercy than made out his defence ; they mix up the gains and the successes of his policy with his Cruelties and his crimes, and, by a kind of set-oiT, seek to reduce the criminality. Macaulay takes into account the' school in which he was brought up, and the temptations he had to encounter ; but give me leave to say, that these were not the matters for Burke to consider when he had to deal with a system of government on which the happiness of millions of the feeble and oppressed, the fate of an empire,' and the character of England depended. To penetrate with an elevated morality English dominion in India, was the teaching of his philosophy, the great object of his righteous efforts. He had to expose and denounce a course of cupidity and fraud, of rapacity and oppression. " The mind of Burke," says Lord Russell (and he speaks 1 84 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. in this with the spirit and in the tone of a true English statesman), " comprehended the vast extent of the question, and his genius animated the heavy mass of materials which his industry had enabled him to master. For years he persevered in his great task. Neither the dilatory plea of a dissolution of Parliament, nor the appalling earthquake of the French Revolution (to none more appalling than to him), ever distracted his attention from his great Indian enterprise. The speeches delivered by him in Westminster Hall are great monuments of industry and eloquence ; they surpass in power those of Cicero when denouncing the crimes of Verres. Finally, though the impeachment ended in an acquittal, its results were memorable and beneficial. Never has the great object of punishment, the prevention of crime, been attained more completely than by this trial. The Lords and Commons of England, assembled in West- minster Hall, in the presence of the judges, the bar, the aristocracy, and the public, heard the whole record of Indian transactions unrolled before them, and the acts of our agents brought to the test of English law and Christian morality. No palliation, no plea of necessity, could alter the character of those acts ; and no man who could aspire to civil or judicial authority in India would ever dare to repeat con- duct which, during seven years of a solemn process, before an august tribunal, had been denounced as wicked, oppres- sive, perfidious, rapacious, and cruel. The conscience of mankind was brought in presence of negotiations, treaties, usurpations, conquests, veiled in the haze of an obscure distance, and covered by the jungle of strange manners and uncouth phraseology. The sentence was pronounced not by the peers, but by the universal opinion of right and wrong. Mr. Hastings was acquitted ; but tyranny, deceit, and injus- tice were condemned. India was saved from abominations disgraceful to the English name, and the hands of Corn- wallis, Minto, Bentinck, and Auckland have swayed an empire where Cheyt Sing was despoiled and Nuncomar was executed." EDMUND BURKE. 185 The Chancellor (Lord Loughborough) voted for a con- viction. But the tribunal that had stooped to the royal mandate, in throwing out the India Bill, was not likely to be very scrupulous about the acquittal of Hastings. Lord Campbell, indeed, has intimated more than his doubts as to the sound judgment or right feeling with which Burke managed the prosecution ; but he was scarcely competent to pronounce on this. It was not an Old Bailey indict- ment. The tribunal was political ; management would have been unavailing. No one, indeed, ought to have known better than Lord Campbell that the best managed prose- cution could be defeated, even in the House of Lords, notwithstanding the establishment of the guilt of the accused. Burke's was a noble proceeding, if we can appreciate the moral chivalry which sustained him to the close. The best years of his mature life, with no interest but duty, with no reward but from his conscience ; the unbought advocate of the friendless and the oppressed, he poured forth that mighty eloquence which will ever adorn our literature, whilst goodness is honoured and genius is admired. The grandeur of Michael Angelo, the glow of Titian, and the grace of Raphael, are all here resplendent. There is not, I believe, in any literature a more elevated morality or ma- jestic eloquence than in that magnificent peroration with which, at the close, he wound up this almost superhuman effort in his last reply. 'Tis said, he was vehement, vituperative, extravagant ; and language is almost exhausted in finding epithets to abuse him for having been abusive. As he modestly said in the House of Commons, he had been very much mis- represented. But, indeed, in such a cause, and with such a heart, he could not have been tame and temperate. The hero who sweeps the battle-field — who plants the standard of his country upon the ramparts of the enemy — may be called impetuous ; it is the impulse of his chivalry which has carried him triumphant. The mighty river of Egypt i86 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. is extravagant in its overflowings ; but it carries with it a rich deposit, full of bounty and of blessing. The tempest is extravagant when it pours forth the torrent and the thunder ; yet it sets the bow of promise in the cloud — it purifies the air and unveils the azure sky. The missionary seems extravagant when, with burning zeal, he traverses the desert and the ocean. The great Apostle seemed ex- travagant even to madness ; yet, measured by a high and holy standard, he spoke " the words of truth and soberness." The labour had now worn him down. It began to tell Upon his health. The angry debates on the Regency Bill had also helped to shake his constitution. The sword was how too sharp for the scabbard. But, when withdrawn from the irritation of debate, his pen was as powerful as ever. The reply of the Prince of Wales to the communica- tion from Pitt, on the Regency Bill, is said by Lord Stan- hope to be one of the best State Papers in the English language. " This masterly performance," he says, " came from the pen of Burke ; and it may well enhance our just admiration of Burke's transcendent powers, when we find him, on so lofty an occasion, enabled to adopt a wholly different style, lay aside his gorgeous imagery, and rise clear from those ■gusts of violence in which he had so recently indulged." About this time the French Revolution began to alarm him. Early in 1790, in the debate on the Army Estimates, he went at considerable length into the subject, in which he spoke of England as the protector, assertor, or avenger of liberty ; and of France, as at that time, in a political light, expunged out of the system of Europe. At the close of this eloquent speech, he said, " he was near the end of his natural, probably still nearer to the end of his political career ; that he was weak and weary, and wished for rest." Mr. Fox spoke after him, and said, that he " had listened to this speech with the greatest attention, and that, some observations and arguments excepted, he admired it as one •of the wisest and most brilliant flights of oratory ever £dmund burke. ' Ysy delivered in tliat House." It was on this occasion that Fox paid him that memorable compliment which, on a subsequent occasion, he perverted to another purpose. " Such was his sense of the judgment of his right hon- ourable friend — such his knowledge of his principles — such the value which he set upon them — and such the estimation in which he held his friendship — that if he were to put all the political information which he had learnt from books, all which he had gained from science, and all which any knowledge of the world and its affairs had taught him, into one scale, and the improvement which he had derived from his right honourable friend's instruction and conver- sation were placed in the other, he should be at a loss to decide to which to give the preference." Fox's speech on this occasion was studiously moderate and conciliatory to Burke, and calculated to impress him with the conviction that there was no reason to' apprehend any difference which could separate them. Sheridan, how- ever, declared that he differed from him altogether as to the French Revolution, and spoke so intemperately, that Burke announced that he must now publicly declare that he and Sheridan from henceforth were separated in politics. In the end of the autumn of this year, Burke published his Reflections on the Revolution in France. Of this delight- ful and eloquent work, I may say, in the words of Dean Bagot : — " A book like this brings profit, and repays The author's toil with European praise ; This into future years prolongs his name, And crowns his memory with immortal fame." " I wish," said Horace Walpole, " I could repeat every page by heart." But there is a comment on it which I value, because it comes from a statesman who thoroughly under- stands the English Constitution. In speaking of what h6 calls " the brilliant and memorable work of Mr. Burke," Lord Russell says : " To all who wish to know the spirit of the British Constitution, its due subordination of orders, its 1 88 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. temperate solution or avoidance of difficulties, the study of this book by day and by night is invaluable." He does not think it is a safe guide as to the Constitution of France. Soon after its publication, the Board of our University agreed to mark their appreciation of Burke. On the nth of December, 1790, the resolution was passed "that an honorary degree of LL.D. be conferred on the Right Hon. Edmund Burke, as the powerful advocate of the Constitu- tion, as the friend of public order and virtue, and conse- quently of the happiness of mankind, and in testimony of the high respect entertained by the University, which had the honour of his education, for the various endowments of ,his mind, and for his transcendent talents and philanthropy." This resolution was communicated to him by the Provost ; and he received it on the morning of the 17th December, the very day on which the important discussion began as to the abatement of the impeachment of Hastings, by the dissolution of Parliament. On this occasion, all the lawyers were on one side, the statesmen on the other ; but the latter prevailed. The reply of Burke to the Provost, which was directed by the Board to be inserted in the registry of their proceedings, was furnished to me by my friend Dr. Lloyd. It is no inconsiderable addition to the testimonies, rich and various, to the elevated feelings and character of Burke ; and it confirms what I had otherwise concluded, that his connection with the College had been one of early affection and unabated reverence — that his College life had been remembered as " Sunshine in a shady place." To the students of the University it speaks significantly. " My dear Sir, — I find it difficult indeed to make a proper acknowledgment to you, for the very flattering mark I received of your continued friendship and partiality to me, in your letter of the thirteenth of this month. This proof of your private friendship is as valuable to me as the public distinction which I owe to your motion, and which EDMUND BURKE. jgg' comes through your hands, though you will believe that I feel the approbation of the University as one of the greatest honours which could be conferred upon me. Uhe Univer- sity is, indeed, highly generous in accepting, with so much indulgence, the produce of its own gifts. I am infinitely happy that that learned body has been pleased to recognise, in the piece it condescends to favour, the unaltered subsist- ence of those principles of liberty and morality, along with some faint remains of that taste of composition, which are infused, and have always been infused together, into the minds of those who have the happiness of being instructed- by it. " I received this most honourable testimony of your approbation just as I was going to the House of Commons yesterday, to recommence my tenth year's warfare against the most dangerous enemy to the justice, honour, laws, morals, and Constitution of this country, by which they have ever been attacked — I mean the corruption which has come upon us from the East, and in which I act with every- thing respectable in every party in the House. Though I had been for some days ill in health, and not very full of spirits, your letter enabled me to go through a long and' fatiguing day, if not with strength, at least with resolution. I thought that the University which had bred me, called- upon me not to disgrace in my last stage the lessons she had taught me in the early period of my life, and I hope,' old as I am, I shall prove as docile to her lessons as when I was subject to her discipline. " Excuse my not saying all that my heart would dictate on this occasion, to you and the gentlemen of the Univer- sity, but the consequences of a late day disable, and I hope will excuse me. But believe me when I assure you, that I am ever, with the most perfect respect and affection, my dear Sir, " Your most obliged and faithful humble servant, "Edmund Burke; " Duke Street, St. James's, ^'■December i8, 1790." igo LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. On the isth April in the following year, in a debate on the war with Russia, Mr. Fox entered again on the question of the French Revolution, and wound up his speech by say- ing, that " he considered the new Constitution of France as the most stupendous and glorious edifice of liberty which had been erected on the foundation of human integrity, in any time or country." Burke immediately rose to reply, but was put down by a cry of " question " by the friends of Fox, though not with his approval. It is quite intelligible, however, when we remember the public separation from Sheridan ; and Lord Russell now lays it down in his Life of Fox, that " the separation of Mr. Burke from his party, was a natural consequence of the position he had assumed in his book." The party had evidently resolved to get rid of him, though at this time Fox had not read the book. In his correspondence, there is a letter of 26th May, 1 791,, to Lord Holland, in which he says : " I have not read Burke's new pamphlet ; but I hear a very different account of it from yours. It is in general thought to be mere mad-, ness, and especially in those parts where he is for a general; war, for the purpose of destroying the present government of France. There is a pamphlet by one Mackintosh which I hear a great character of, though it is said to go too far in some respects." Burke very legitimately expected to have the oppor-, tunity of replying to the extravagant assertion of Mr. Fox as to the French Constitution, and the recommitment of the Canada Bill seemed to be a fitting occasion. This was fixed for the 21st April. Fox called on Burke, who told him what he intended to say, and showed him his, authorities. There was no reserve or concealment. Fox, however, was anxious that Burke should postpone the dis- cussion ; but as no other more fitting occasion seemed; ikely to occur, Burke declined to forego this. Theyi walked together to the House, and then found that Sheridan had got the discussion postponed until the 6th May. A conversational discussion took place, in which Fox referred to the opinion he had already expressed, and EDMUND BURKE., 19I said that when the Bill came again to be discussed, from the great respect he entertained for some of his friends, he should be extremely sorry to differ from them ; but he did not wish to recede from anything he had formerly advanced. Burke closed the conversation in a very earnest but temperr ate speech. He alluded to the pain he felt at the anticipa+ tion of meeting his friend as an adversary and antagonist. He referred to the way in which he had been prevented from answering Fox's panegyric on the French Constitu- tion, but acquitted Fox of any share in this. He added that should he and his friend differ, he desired it to be recollected, that however dear he considered his friendship, there was something still dearer to his mind — the love of his country. I have taken this from the fourth volume of Fox's speeches. I find the accounts of Lord Stanhope and Lord Russell not at all sufficient to enable one to judge aright of the separation question, for which it is necessary to read the report of the speeches in the order of time. At the end of the report of what Burke said, this follows : " Mr. Fox had thus openly given a challenge which was accepted by Mr. Burke, and a determination of calling the latter to order was likewise avowed." The 6th May arrived. Mr. Fox had the interval to advise his friends to give Burke a fair hearing, and also for himself to read the book, to enable him to judge of Burke's positions. Burke began to speak, and when he got into the subject of the French Constitution, he was ■called to order, and an altercation began. Fox said ironi- cally it was a day of privilege to abuse any government ; that although nobody had said a word on the subject of the French Revolution, his right honourable friend had risen up and abused that event. Burke tried in vain to explain why he thought himself in order, and at last Lord Sheffield moved that dissertations on the French Constitu- tion were not regular or orderly, &c. Fox seconded the motion. Mr. Pitt, however, opposed it. Fox then prO' 192 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. ceeded to make a long speech. Now before this time, be it remembered, he had thrown out the challenge for the discussion on this very occasion, and that too, after having been fully apprised of what Burke was about to advance. But he had not yet read the work which contained the deliberate opinions of Burke on the Revolution. Notwithstanding all this, he argued that Burke was out of order, whilst he himself went on to advert to the French Revolution, on which he said he did indeed differ from his right honourable friend. Their opinions, he had no scruple to say, were as wide as the poles asunder, and he would not retract a syllable of what he had said. He stated that " he had been warned by high and most respectable authorities, that minute discussion of great events without information did no honour to the jjen that wrote or the tongue that spoke the words." And having referred to the principles on which he thought the Revolution was justified, he said if such principles were dangerous to the Constitution, they were the principles of his right honourable friend, from whom he learned them. It was not until I followed the discussion from its opening on the 9th February, 1790, until its close in 1791, that I was able to appreciate the force of Burke's " Appeal to the Old from the New Whigs," or to judge correctly of the share which Fox and his friends had in causing the separation which followed. It would seem to me that after that Burke had openly separated from Sheridan, but -was given to understand by Fox that there was no likeli- hood of any rupture with himself, who then spoke so tem- perately and so kindly. Fox was constrained by his party to go ahead, and so he began to break out on the French Revolution, and at last on the debate on the Russian war made his famous comment on the new Constitution. " Alas ! they had been friends in youth : But whispering tongues can poison truth, And constancy lives in realms above, And life is thorny and youth is vain : And to be wroth with one we love, Doth work like madness in the brain." EDMUND BURKE. 193 Fox had been taught by his party that Burke's book was "mere madness," and doubtless, that the best thing they could do was now to get rid of him as lumber. And so, notwithstanding the challenge given and accepted on the 2 1st April, and the expression of regret that Burke had been prevented from replying in the debate on the Russian war, and the declared opinion of Pitt that Burke was in order, Fox not only supported but seconded a motion to suppress the discussion on the French Revolution ; in his ' speech he insinuates that Burke had written and spoken without the requisite information, reiterates his encomium on the Revolution, and refers to Burke as the person from whom he had got his principles. A more galling and, I would say, ungenerous speech, under the circumstances, I could not conceive. He knew how earnest, how deep, how solemn were the convictions of Burke as to the Revolution ; and was he to be bearded, and bullied, and silenced by a factious party now led on by his friend whom he had loved and trusted ? , What could follow but a reaction of feeling, necessarily causing complete political separation and the loss of friendship, which Burke valued less than the love of country ? The scene which took place I do not dwell upon. The last passage in Burke's will, which was written a few years later, is in these words : — ■" If the intimacy which I have had with others has been broken off by political differences on great questions concerning the state of things existing and impending, I hope they will forgive whatever of general human infirmity, or of my own particular infirmity, has entered into that contention. I heartily entreat their for- giveness. I have nothing further to say." It was after this was penned that he walked down on a summer even- ing to the House of Commons, and sent in Mr. Rose, the Committee Clerk, to beg of Mr, Fox to come out and see a dying man. Fox instantly came ; they went into an ad- joining committee-room ; Burke shed tears, and doubtless there was an interchange of mutual forgiveness. Mr. Ser- 194 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. geant Burke has given unexceptionable authority for this interesting anecdote. It is also confirmed by the fact, that Burke had visited Erskine at his residence on Hamp- stead Hill, somewhat about this time. " What a prodigy he was," says Erskine. " He came to see me not long be- fore he died. ' Come, Erskine,' said he, holding out his hand, ' let us forget all. I shall soon quit this stage, and want to die in peace with everybody — especially you.' " The continuation of this anecdote, as given by Lord Camp- bell in his Life of Lord Erskine, has been corrected by the Right Hon. Thomas Erskine, and is given in a note. " Upon being conducted by my father to his garden through a tunnel under the road that divided the house from the shrubbery, all the beauty of Kenwood (Lord Mansfield's) and the distant prospect burst upon them. " Oh ! " said Burke, " this is just the place for a reformer ; all the beauties are beyond your reach." His political life had virtually closed ; he only remained to finish the impeachment. He attended in the House of Commons to receive the thanks of the House, which were voted to the managers, and then he modestly retired to his country residence, where he discharged the duties of a good farmer and a good neighbour with exemplary diligence, In 1792, Miss Burney met him at Mrs. Crewe's. " I esteem and admire him," she says, " as the very first man of true genius now living in this country. ' The French Revolu- tion,' he said, 'which began authorizing and legalizing injustice, and which by rapid steps had proceeded to every species of despotism, except owning a despot, was now menacing the universe, and all mankind, with the most violent concussion of principle and order.' When he had expatiated jjpon the present dangers even to English liberty and property, from • the contagion of havoc and novelty, he exclaimed — r' This it is that has made me an abettor and supporter of kings. Kings are necessary, and if we wish peace and prosperity, we must preserve them. We must all put our shoulders to the work — aye, and EDMUND BURKE. I9S stoutly too.' On Charles Fox's name being mentioned, Mrs. Crewe told us that he had lately said, upon being- shown some passage in Mr. Burke's book, which he had warmly opposed, but which had in the event made its own justification, very candidly—' Well, Burke is right ; but Burke is often right, only he is right too soon.' ' Had Fox seen some things in that book as soon ' (answered Burke), ' he would at this moment, in all probability, be first Minister of this country.' " I need not now go further into this question. It has been handled with great ability in the Dublin University Magazine, of March, 1853 — a periodical which has always done justice, generously and ably, to our great Edmund. Remember this — the eminent philosopher and statesman, whom Fox described as " one Mackintosh," whose reply to Burke was generally considered to have been the best which was atternpted ; that in December, 1796, he wrote to Burke-^" Since that time a melancholy experience has undeceived me on many subjects, in which I was the dupe of my own enthusiasm. I can with truth affirm that I sub- scribe to your general principles, and am prepared to shed my blood in defence of the laws and Constitution of my country." I do not dwell upon the remarkable comment of Dumont, or the more memorable adhesion to Burke's views of our own Henry Grattan, nor do I claim for Burke ■any special foresight beyond that profound and cgmpre- hensive acquaintance with the course of events, and the great principles of liberty and order, which he acquired by study, observation, and reflection. " I learn from history," says the wise and enlightened De Tocqueville, " that not one of the men who witnessed the downfall of the religious and social organizations that have passed away, was able to guess or even to imagine what would ensue But it is no less the duty of honest people to stand up for the only system which they understand, and even to die for it, if a better be not shown them." It is clear, at all events, that Burke saw further than any 196 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. of his contemporaries ; but if, instead of ranging himself on the side of established order, he had joined with the new Whigs in abetting popular excesses, and so breaking in upon the genuine principles of the English Revolution, it is difficult indeed to say what might have been let loose upon England, and what might have swept over Europe. Those who charge him with inconsistency, overlook the very excellence and essence of his political philosophy, which never tampered with the great and immutable principles of truth and freedom, but always took into account the realities and the moral facts to which those principles had to be applied. There was in his syllogism what he so aptly called — the minor of circumstances. The science of statesmanship was not with him a dreamy discussion of abstract or metaphysical theories, but a moral and a social branch of inductive philosophy. In his retirement he was visited by a deputation from Trinity College who were on their way to London, in order to secure, if possible, the appointment of a proper suc- cessor to Hutchinson, who was then expected to resign the Provostship of Trinity College, in favour of Wolfe, the Attorney-General. The late Dr. Miller was one of the deputation, and has given an account of what took place. Lord Charlemont gave them a letter to Burke, and they waited on him at his residence, and were informed he was dining in the village with a party. The letter was sent to him, and at eight o'clock he came to them. The conver- sation was so discouraging to the deputation that they thought of returning home, and whilst discussing anxiously what they should do, Burke returned from his party, was less discouraging, and advised perseverance, though he did not expect success. They determined to proceed to London at six in the morning, and when at that hour they were starting, they were agreeably surprised to see Burke, who had walked in from his villa to see them again, and to cheer them on their way. " He told us," says Dr. Miller, " that he had been thinking of our business the whole EDMUND BURKE. 197 night ; that he thought it possible we might be successful ; that the effort was in any event respectable, and that he wished us success with all his heart." He came up to the next levee, in order (as Dr. Miller supposes) to countenance the deputation. No change took place in the Provostship until the death of Hutchinson in the next year, and as this event was im- pending, a report had got up, that Burke was himself to be the successor. We have now two letters from Burke on the subject of the appointment ; one to Mr. Windham, dated the 15th August, 1794, the other to the Duke of Portland, dated the 14th of September, 1794 — they are in the fourth volume of the Fitzwilliam Correspondence. Burke earnestly protests against such a high trust being made in any way a political job. " Religion, law, and order depend on this more than upon anything I know." He mentions the effort made, by the deputation, and advises that the place be given to one of the body — " and, for a thousand reasons, only to an ecclesiastic ;" that " the sense of the body should guide the choice ;" and he adds, that " it contains persons of great solidity, great erudition, and very enlarged and capable minds." The letter is the more interesting, from his state of mind, as it was written soon after the death of his loved son. The letter to the Duke of Portland is strikingly beautiful, instructive, and affecting. Hodgkin- soh, afterwards the Vice-Provost, was sent to the Duke, on the part of the College ; he had an interview, and got his assurance that all would be right. He also saw Burke, and reported that these words were used by Burke : " If you separate learning from religion, learning will destroy reli- gion." The history of France had taught him what a scourge to a nation unsanctified, unbelieving intelligence might become. The old friends of his younger days were dropping away one by one. Goldsmith was gone ; Sir Joshua Rey- nolds was gone ; Johnson was gone ; Abraham Shackleton, his dear old venerated master, and, at last, Richard, his 198 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. loved friend, whose affectionate attachment had never abated until his heart had ceased to beat. His literary friends never wavered in their attachment; the noblest blood of England had sought his counsels and courted his companionship. Lord Charlemont and Henry Grattan, like "the high-souled Windham," loved him to the last. Noscitur a so cits. A patent for a peerage was now ordered by the King. It was a tardy tribute, but still it was a graceful and gene- rous recognition of services otherwise unrequited. His isolation, at this time, clearly proved how high and how honourable were his motives ; and whatever he wrote for public purposes, his letters on France, his " Thoughts on Scarcity," and other public matters, exhibited the mellowed wisdom of a master mind. "It was desired," says Lord Stanhope, " I cannot say, with truth, to honour Mr. Burke, but rather to honour the peerage by his accession to its ranks. There was also, as I have heard, the design, as in other cases of rare merit, to annex by an Act of Parliament a yearly income to the title during two or three lives." The correspondence with Pitt is given in the very inte- resting memoir of Pitt by Lord Stanhope : it is, indeed, creditable to Pitt, and in some parts very touching. In the midst of all this he was bowed to the earth by a stroke of affliction, which left his home desolate and blighted his earthly hopes. The child of his young affection — the son of his bosom, whom he so tenderly loved, to whom he looked as the bearer of the title he had won, and the inheri- tor of the property that he had with toil and effort secured — he was now cut off ; but a few months after Richard, his loved brother, had been taken to his rest. All, all were gone ; he was now left in solitude and sorrow. In the celebrated letter which he wrote in reply to the Duke of Bedford, the finest diatribe in any language, for dignified rebuke, and unequalled in the solemn severity and the classic beauty of its composition, he says : " The storm has gone over me, and I lie like one of those old oaks which EDMUND BURKE. 199 the late hurricane has scattered about me— I am stripped of all my honours, I am torn up by the roots, and lie pros- trate on the earth 1 There, and prostrate there, I must unfeignedly recognise the Divine justice I greatly deceive myself, if, in this hard season, I would give a peck of refuse wheat for all that is called fame and honour in the world." " Oh ! Thou who driest the mourner's tear, How dark this world would be, If when deceived and wounded here, We could not fly to Thee." He made his will. After alluding in touching terms to his son's recent death, he says : " According to the ancient, good, and laudable custom, of which my heart and under- standing recognise the propriety, I bequeath my soul to God, hoping for His mercy through the only merits of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. My body, I desire, if I should die any place very convenient for its transport thither (but not otherwise), to be buried in the church of Beaconsfield, near to the bodies of my dearest brother and my dearest son ; in all humility praying, that as we have lived in perfect unity together, we may together have a part in the resurrection of the just." What a grandeur there is in this simple, solemn sur- render of himself to the infinite mercy and the sovereign grace of God ! The closing hours of Burke have been exquisitely described by Mr. Willes in his able sketch. And here let me recall the memorable conversation which Boswell has recorded in the Tour to the Hebrides, when, with Dr. Johnson, on a rough sea, in a small boat : " We spoke of death. Dr. Johnson on this subject observed, that the boastings of some men, as to dying easily, were idle talk proceeding from partial views No, said he, there is no rational principle by which a man can die contented, but a trust in the mercy of God through the merits of Jesus Christ." Disquieted through life, he found peace in his dying hour, when at the last he was brought 200 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. to feel this simple, child-like trust in the fulness of re- deeming love. The dying words of Pitt, we learn from Lord Stanhope, when rising in his bed as he spoke, and clasping his hands fervently together — " I throw myself entirely upon the mercy of God through the merits of Christ." The wise and the learned, the scholar and the statesman, here, and here only, have found rest for their souls. But I must draw to a close ; and yet what a field have I left untraversed ! His admirable contributions to our jurisprudence — his Libel Bill — his celebrated Report on the proceedings in the House of Lords — his care of the emigrants — his many works and labours of philanthropy — his Negro code — his letters on the most familiar topics, all bearing the stamp of genius ; many, indeed, replete with his habitual wisdom ; but time would fail me to go over even a summary of his rich bequests to literature, law, and religion. Nor have I dwelt upon Ireland — his views of its eafly history, its claims on religious liberty and commer- cial freedom ; its right and title to complete equality with England, and their mutual and insuperable dependence on each other. It was the last public topic on which he poured forth his thoughts, as he lay at Bath, emaciated and exhausted, in the presence of approaching death, before he was removed to Beaconsfield, there (to use his own pious words) " to be nearer a habitation more permanent, humbly and fearfully hoping that my better part may find a better mansion." Dear Edmund Burke — what a debt we owe to thy memory ! In his lifetime a statue was suggested — sug- gested here in his native city ; but his own words were — ■ " Such honours belong exclusively to the tomb, the natural and only period of human inconstancy with regard either to desert or opinion." The time has at last arrived, and now, under the generous auspices of one who loves Ireland, we will begin the good work in good earnest. In Beacons- field he sleeps in the grave ; no monumental marble testifies EDMUND BURKE. 201 that the life he Hved for England, or the labour he exerted for France, has been gratefully remembered. A mural tablet in the church, a recent inscription on brass, over the spot where his remains are mouldering, the offering of a few kind members of the De Burgh connection — these are the memorials to this illustrious man. To him I may apply the lines of his own loved Milton — ' ' What needs my Edmund for his honoured bones The labour of an age in piled stones ? Or that his hallowed relics should be hid Under a star-ypointing pyramid ? Dear son of memory, great heir of fame, What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name ? Thou in our wonder and astonishment Hast built thyself a living monument." The memory of the just is blessed — and a generous country will not be unmindful of her illustrious dead. We will yet look on his statue, we will think of the man ; our souls will expand with generous emotion, and from the contemplation of his virtues, we may catch a por- tion of his spirit. Goldsmith will be at hand. I think I hear his gentle spirit speaking thus : — " There stands our great Edmund, whose genius was such, Some blame it indeed, none have praised it too much. So large was his heart and so lofty his mind, That he held not with party, but clung to mankind. Too honest for tactics, and when disobedient, 'Twas to follow the right as the truly expedient. Too upright for office, and seldom in place. He has left a remembrance no time can efface." When we call to mind how every part of his life has been exposed — the correspondence so various— the critics so censorious — how blameless were his morals — how gene- rous his affections — his self-respect — his sustained integrity in times of trial and temptation — how he remembered his Creator in the days of his youth, and trusted in the God of his salvation as he sank in life's decline— must we not admire his virtues, and reverence his goodness, whilst we 202 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Stand amazed at his wisdom, and wonder at the greatness of his genius ? Teacher of statesmen ! Saviour of states ! Thine were no blood-stained triumphs. From east to west, from India to America, from the rising of the sun to the going down of the same — Hke the path of that glorious luminary above the shadows and the storms of this troubled world, thine was a heavenly track of bright beneficence. Thy martyr life of duty, closing in faith and hope and charity, shall in no wise lose its reward. Advocate of the oppressed — refuge of the exile — friend of the friendless ! — the poor outcast, blighted by sin, flung on a cold world to wither and to perish, found sympathy in thy heart, a shelter in thy home. She could not recom- pense thee ; " thou shalt be recompensed at the resurrection of the just." APPENDIX TO LECTURE ON EDMUND BURKE. The Rev. J. H. Monahan has at last made out Burke's house on Arran Quay. He found in the College Library a survey of Dublin in 1750, which shows the state of every house as they then stood. From this it appears that what was then called Arran Lane included what is to the east of No. 8 Arran Quay, and that the ten houses which in the applotment book are severally described as on Arran Quay, are those between Lin- coln Lane and what is now No. 9, inclusive. The seventh of these was the house of Burke. It is now No. 12. It appears in the books as having gone into the hands of Counsellor Dillon, and afterwards of Counsellor Taaffe. The name Taaffe is now over the shop door ; it has belonged to that family for more than eighty years. I have got a tracing of the whole taken from the survey, and I have compared it with the applotment, and it leaves no doubt whatsoever as to the identity of the house. I feel more than the delight of Niebuhr, when he thought he had made out the site of the house of Cicero, near the Forum. I cannot sufficiently express my thanks to Mr. Monahan for his persevering and successful exertions. As to the Clogher property, I have, with the help of Sir Bernard Burke, ascertained that on the ist July, 1790, it was conveyed by Edmund Burke to Edmund Nagle, who paid him _;^3,ooo for it, and afterwards sold it for more. It is now obvious that Garret Burke had advanced this amount when he got the title. The old method of lease and loan is familiar to Irish lawyers. The bill of discovery and decree was used to secure his title at the time. The property had originally be- longed to the Nagles, but they had parted with it for value to Lord Doneraile. At the time of the making of the lease for 999 years, Lord Doneraile was owner in fee. 204 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. For a very interesting account of Beaconsfield, see the " Double Sojourn of Genius at Beaconsfield," by Mr. Sergeant Burke, to whom I am under great obligations, for the help he has afforded. Arran Quay, October i^th, 1744. I AM sure I should not be displeased at hearing all the praises you could possibly bestow on a belief which you profess, and which you believe to be the true and pure doctrine of Christ. We take different roads, 'tis true, and since our intention is to please Him who suffered the punishment of our sins to justify us, He will, I believe, consider us accordingly, and receive us into that glory which was not merited by our own good deeds, but by His sufferings, which atone for our crimes. Far be it from me to exclude from salvation such as believe not as I do ; but in- deed it is a melancholy thing to consider the diversities of sects and opinions amongst us. Men should not for a small matter commit so great a crime as breaking the unity of the Church; and I am sure if the spirit of humility, the greatest of Christian virtues, was our guide, our sects and our religions would be much fewer. Give me leave to add also, that since it is our misfortune to have so many different opinions, we should not hide our talent in the earth, but exert it with all diligence in the great affair for the accomplishment of which we were sent into the world — to witness salvation. God, all merciful, all good, has given us a guide, a talent to direct us in the slippery paths of the world ; let us then, my dear friend, earnestly and heartily set to work, pray- ing the Divine Being of His infinite mercy to help us in our un- dertaking by the saving and enlightening assistance of His Holy Spirit, while we seek what manner of serving Him will most please our great Creator ; for it is impossible that all can be equally pleasing to Him who has declared that as there is but one God, so there is but one faith and one baptism. Oh, my friend, what an account will those have to give who, as if they were asleep, pass their lives without the least consideration of this ! Will it be a sufficient excuse for them to say that their intention was to serve God in that way ? No, no ; it is the EDMUND BURKE. 205 business of everyone to search whef ler their way be good ; and if any man who knows this to be his duty — as there is no Chris- tian but does — if (I say) he wiUingly neglects this, and be found in a wrong way, he will not be held guiltless before God. Then, my dear Dick, let us take this into consideration (for indeed it is a serious affair,, and worth the attention even of our whole lives), and implore the assistance of the Holy Spirit, which leads into all truth, and endeavour to walk piously and godlily in the path our great Redeemer has showed us ; confiding very little in our strength, but casting ourselves upon Him who died for us, and with great humility asking His assistance in knowing what man- ner of serving Him will best please Him, that we may not be in the number of those whose ignorance is justly imputed to themselves. If we do this, I do not in the least doubt but that God, of His great mercy, will guide us in the right road. I very much approve of the method you laid down for our correspondence ; I will, as much as I can, observe it. I must own that I can't, with any freedom, write better ; so you must excuse me in that part, and in point of style, but I hope to improve in that by degrees. I do not know to whom I could write with greater freedom and less regularity than to you, for as the thoughts come crowding into my head, I cannot forbear putting 'em down, be they in what order or disorder they . will. You will excuse me for this, and for what mistakes and in- congruities you may find in my future letters ; because you will believe that whether what I say be well or ill expressed, it comes from a sincere heart, and from one who is sincerely your friend. God gives me good resolves sometimes, and I lead a better life ; they last for a time or so, sometimes more, sometimes less, and then, through the fickleness of my temper and too great confidence in myself, I fall into my old courses ; aye, often far worse. You see my weakness, dear Dick, and my failings ; plead and pray for me ; we will pray for one another reciprocally. Praise be to His holy name for all things ; for every impulse of His grace He gives me I praise Him, and trust that He will continue 'em to me, and make me persevere in 'em. Let us lead the best' life we can, and make it our study to please Him the best we can, both in faith and works. I could write a great deal more with pleasure ; I dare not say you would be tired with reading, but that I find my paper almost gone. 206 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Arran Quay, November ist, 1744. I AM of your opinion, that those poor souls who never had the happiness of hearing that saving name, shall in no wise be damned. But, as you know, my dear Zelim, there are several degrees of felicity — a lower one, which the mercy of God will suffer them to enjoy ; but not anything to be compared to that of those who have lived and died in Christ. This is sincerely my belief of those ; but I assure you that I don't think near so favourably of those sectaries you mentioned ; many of them breaking, as they themselves confess, for matters of indifference, and no way concerned in the only affair that is necessary, viz., our salvation ; and what a great crime schism is, you can't be igno- rant. This, and the reasons in my last, and if you consider what will occur to yourself, together with several texts, will bring you to my way of thinking in that point. Let us endeavour to live according to the rules of the Gospel, and He that pre- scribed them, I hope, will consider our endeavours to please Him, and assist us in our designs. This, my friend, is your advice, and how hard is it for me to follow it ! I am in the enemy's country — the townsman is beset on every side. It is here difficult to sit down to think seriously. Oh ! how happy are you who live in the country ! I assure you, my friend, that without the superior grace of God, I will find it very difficult to be commonly virtuous. I don't like that part of your letter wherein you say, " you had the testimony of well-doing in your breast." Whenever such notions rise again, endeavour to sup- press them. It is one of the subtlest stratagems the enemy of mankind uses to delude us, that, by lulling us into a false peace, his conquest may be the easier. We should always be in no other than the state of a penitent, because the most righteous of us is no better than a sinner. Pray read the Parable of the Pharisee and the Publican who prayed in the temple. You see that 1 tell you what I think amiss in yours — why don't you use the same freedom with mine ? Do, I beg you, because we shall be both of us improved by it. I have a great deal to say ; but as this is a holiday, and I am going to the College, to evening EDMUND BURKE. 20/ prayers, I must write no more, but defer it till another time. I was going to say something of natural philosophy, something of which I now read ; and as you have lately been studying astro- nomy, I beg of you to communicate to me some of your observa- tions, by which we may mutually improve. E. Burke. My dear Sir, The present unhappy state of public affairs has required my daily, and almost hourly, attendance in the House of Commons. I have, therefore, not had a single moment's time to answer your letter of the isth of November, from the County of Kerry, and which inclosed one from Mr. John Hennessy to you, until this day. I am equally surprised and shocked at the picture that gentleman has drawn of what he supposes the effects of my con- duct. He indeed obligingly attributes it to my ignorance of the true state of the rights and sufferings of the claimants. But if that ignorance had arisen from any neglects imputable to me, the fault would have been nearly the same as if I had been unjust and inhuman with the clearest knowledge of the case. I am sorry that I am obliged to remind you of the circum- stances of a matter of which you must yourself be at least as well informed as I am. I will now in a few words lay them before you. In the year 1765, my brother died, and, among other things, bequeathed to me his interest in Clohir, which is the subject of yours and Mr. Hennessy's letter. I understood that, during my brother's lifetime, whilst the transaction was recent, and all the parties and witnesses living, the affair was litigated ; that the litigation had proved unsuccessful ; and that a decree of a Court of Equity had established him in peaceable possession. I suppose tha,t nobody will think me unjust ip supposing that I had a fair title to what was so left, and so confirmed. In this light things appeared to me ; and 1 believe facts so stood, when, about a year after the death of my brother, I was for two or three weeks in your country ; that is, about eleven years ago, in the autumn of the year 1766. 208 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. It only remains for me to account for what has happened since. Not having been able to visit Ireland in all that long space of time, nor consequently to look after the rights of others, or even of myself, I did what I thought most effectual towards remedying the ill consequences of my ignorance with regard to the one or to the other. I placed that affair, together with all the rest of my little concerns in Ireland of whatsoever nature, in the hands of my friend the late Counsellor Ridge, implicitly re- signing myself to his direction, and referring wholly to him every application that should be made to me in relation to any Irish business. His great integrity and his sound knowledge in his profession gave me all the reason in the world to be persuaded that he never would advise me to the assertion of any right which I could not support in law, and which in honour and conscience was not justifiable. From that time to this I have met with no disturbance. I am persuaded no better method could be found out to prevent any ill effects which might happen from my long absence and consequent ignorance of my affairs. I most certainly never desired or remotely wished him to controvert for a moment the just rights of any man living. I think I should not have done so for interests of the greatest magnitude in the world, much less for one which, though in my circumstances not to be neglected by me, is as nothing in comparison of those which I slight every day of my life in favour of what I think fair and honest. Indeed, it is little worthy of any injustice either to obtain or hold. So far as to my just presumption in favour of my legal right. But I must say, that I should think it a very poor account of my conduct, if satisfied with having such a right, I had reason to think there had been any original wrong in the obtaining it, though not by my act or consent. But your father, a man I believe of as perfect integrity as ever lived, is my authority for the fairness of the original transaction. I apprehend it is mis- stated in the case which you have transmitted to me. For he expressly told me, that it was carried on not only with the clearest light into its true nature, but at the earnest entreaty of the parties — my brother, who was in his disposition timid and cautious, having for a long time declined to meddle with it. The narrative says, that on some doubtful intentions of my deceased EDM,UND BURKE. 209 brother, and on having received an unsatisfactory answer, Mr. Robert Nagle immediately went to Dublin, and equipped himself with a new religion, in order to entitle himself as a Protestant discoverer to bring his bill for vesting in him this whole interest Whether he would not have acted more honestly, and in th^ €vent more prudently, in endeavouring by some means to enforce the agreement he had made, if the performance, as he says, had been evaded, is more than I can say, unacquainted as I am with the intricacies of the unhappy laws on which this business turns. Most certainly, those who have adhered to that agreement hayq no reason to complain of their condition. But by thus endear vouring to set aside his own act, and to get the whole interest into his own hands, to which if his original title had been yaUd in law, he would have been entitled only to a part, he did all that he could do for the ruin of his own family. His distress, what- ever it may be, is of his own making. I could not admit his claim, made as he made it, without affecting my brother's rnemory, and without bringing to beggary the mother of this unhappy man, his brother, and a very large family of children, his and your nearest relations. Your father, I think yourself, I am sure Garret Nagle, all told me that this would be the infallible event of his success in his suit. As to his mother, whose situation Mr. Hennessy paints in such strong colours, I thought I had in some measure relieved instead of causing it. I saw her when I was in Ireland. I then gave something, I forget what, for her relief, and directed in general terms that she should have such helps to put her at ease as she asked. If she had asked for more than she has done, she should have assuredly had it ; for I trust I am not altogether grudging or penurious on such occasions. This J know, that she seemed perfectly satisfied ; whereas I understood from herself, th^t she had considered her son's success and her being turned out of her own little tenement, as one and the same thing. As to Garret Nagle, he knows whether I have been a sharp or oppressive landlord to him, either as to the term of his lease or to any other particular. There are some others who hold leases under my title, on what I conceive to be very mode- rate terms. If you or any judicious person had told me they were otherwise, I should instantly have thought it my duty tp make an abaterpent. These people are all dependent, perhaps, for their existence on my right. P 2IO LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. The question, therefore, in point of humanity (to which Mr. H. appeals), was whether I ought to suffer Mr. R. Nagle to con- tinue in a distress brought on by his own act, or by admitting his new claims, rejected by a Court of Law, or to subvert and ruin several innocent families, who are, or ought to be, in a thriving condition under me ? I did in general know that he was in bad circumstances; and though he has not been wholly without relief, I was informed that, as he daily threatened new bills, it would be dangerous to give it to him on the terms on which I heard he proposed it from time to time to Mr. Ridge, that is to say, as a sort of composition for his demand. I believe I was recom- mended to be the more cautious on that head, as I believe he knew me naturally disposed to every possible act of kindness to any of your name, or connected with you by any sort of aflSnity. Had it been recommended to me by any of you, I should cer- tainly have done all I could to accommodate him in any way. However, until the hour of your letter, I never received directly or indirectly, from any of them, or anyone else, any sort of pro- posal for eleven years. I now understand what you and the friends of that family wish, though I am surprised that Mr. Kiernan, to whom I must leave in a great measure everything of this kind, was not communicated with. If by letting the lease you mention, and giving the hundred pounds you mention, that family can be set to rights, I shall be, just as I always would have been, willing, voluntarily and cheerfully, to do it, provided it may be done with perfect safety to the derivative interests of all kinds, even to the smallest ; for I do not know with what conscience I can consent to sacrifice them, unless I am actually driven to it by the utmost process of law. It is, in truth, rather for them than myself that I have ever been willing to trouble myself much about this affair. When I speak of the lease, I mean a lease for twenty-one years ; for, as the rest of the term is desired as a sort of compensation for what they have lost, I am not willing that such a charge should stand against me. If they lost any advantage, they lost it by no fault of mine ; and I am not answerable for not complying with proposals which I never received and never refused. It is this, and not the difference of the term (which on calculation is not very much), that makes me not so willing to comply with the proposal for thirty-one years. In other respects, I must leave EDMUND BURKE. 21 r the affair to be settled between you and Mr. Hennessy and Mr. Kiernan, to whose joint opinion (if you can come to it) I shall leave the matter. I must expect to be kept out of future litiga- tions ; and I wish, on that head, when you have adjusted the measures, that Mr. O'Neal should be consulted. He has been kind enough to offer me his assistance in my general affairs. I have been several times broke in upon by business, and interrupted in this letter. I have only to add, that if the power- ful friends of these people, whom you mention, are as willing to accommodate them as I am, and will give to that the money they proposed in their favour to expend in a contest with me, they will put them much more readily and much better at their ease, and show them much more their friends. Indeed, I have been ill able to attend to this or any private business. I am much fatigued, and cannot yet attend myself to anything but my immediate duty. Let this be my excuse (it is a true one) for doing nothing as yet in the affair you recommended to me in a former letter. Love to all friends. I am ever, My dear Sir, Most sincerely yours, Edm. Burke. Westminster, ^ih Dec, 1777. WILLIAM BEDELL. [A Lecture delivered before the Church of Ireland Young Men's Christian Association, March ijth, iS6j.] ABOUT thirty-five years ago, I made my first speech in public. I moved a resolution that was seconded by a young parochial clergyman, both eloquent and wise, who afterwards became a successor of Bishop Bedell in the diocese of Kilmore, and is now the Lord Primate, who presides on this auspicious occasion. It is not without a feeling of thankfulness that, after the lapse of so many years, I find myself again supported by his friendly pre- sence. When in the diocese of Kilmore, His Grace de- lighted to honour the memory of the good and gentle Bedell. The new cathedral of Kilmore, which has been erected by the efforts and the bounty of His Grace, is a suitable remembrancer of one whose life was devoted to the preparation of living stones for the Church of Christ. Nearly three centuries have elapsed since William Bedell was born. It was an eventful period. A few years before his birth, the Council of Trent had closed its sittings, and the English Reformation had been completed under the great Queen Elizabeth. It was the beginning of a vital struggle between absolutism and freedom — between the word of man and the word of God. The Council of Trent had proceeded to reinforce the Papacy ; the English Refor- mation to purify the faith and worship of the Church. The one sought to concentrate Papal power, by teaching for doctrines the commandments of men ; by increased rigidity WILLIAM BEDELL. 213 in its ritual and ecclesiastical system ; by bringing bishops and clergy under sworn vassalage, and by suppressing liberty of opinion ; whilst Protestantism, guided by the Scriptures, retraced its steps with firmness and freedom towards the primitive forms of Christian faith and life. The Reformation was, in fact, the restoration — the going back to the faith and usage of the early Christian Church. After the lapse of three hundred years, we are well war- ranted in trying these rival systems by the Scriptural test — " By their fruits ye shall know them." William Bedell was a native of Essex — a son of the English Church. His life has been written by Bishop Burnet ; but I am sorry to say, it is now discovered to be a slipshod performance. It appears, from the learned research of the Archdeacon of Cashel, that the life of Bedell has yet to be written. Mr. Mason's work is valuable, especially with reference to the use of the Irish language for the religious instruction of the Irish people ; and it gives extracts from the registry of proceedings in Trinity College, which Bedell kept when he was Provost. Dr. Todd had transcribed this registry, and lent his copy to Mr. Mason. I have been furnished, by the kindness of the Lord Primate, with the copy of a manuscript still more interesting, supposed to have been written by a son of the good Bishop, and which has been preserved in the Bodleian Library at Oxford, but has not yet been published. There is also a memoir made up of recollections by a son-in-law ; but I find, in the recent volumes of Notes and Queries, much additional light thrown on the subject by Mr, Mayor, of the University of Cambridge, who has given references to State papers in England, as well as to authentic letters and publications. Mr. Mayor (who is most competent) has undertaken the ofiice of the biographer of Bedell ; and we may hope soon to have a volume worthy of him of whom Coleridge has said, that " in all ecclesiastical history he has read of no man so spotless." In this state of things, I do not propose to go into a 214 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. detail that could not be complete. I have not had access to the necessary documents ; and wishing not to exceed the reasonable limits of a lecture, I will direct your atten- tion (not unprofitably I hope) to three periods of the life of Bedell which are associated with topics of enduring interest. First, we have his chaplaincy at Venice ; next, his con- nection with Trinity College as its Provost ; and thirdly, with the Irish Church as Bishop of Kilmore. Bedell had been a graduate of the University of Cam- bridge. He was a Fellow of Emmanuel College, where he had been trained under Dr. Chaderton, one of the eminent scholars to whom we are indebted for the Authorized Ver- sion of the Holy Scriptures. Here he established a repu- tation for learning and piety. It has been recorded of him, that whilst he continued to reside at Cambridge, he, with others, set on foot a design of preaching in places adjacent to the University, where there were no pastors able to teach and lead the people in the ways of truth, peace, and life. About the year 1604, Sir Henry Wotton was sent by James I. as the English ambassador to Venice. He was a man of great accomplishments — of sound judgment, and intelligently attached to the Reformed Church. His life has been written by Izaak Walton with consummate ability, and affords (especially at the close) a lesson of divine in- struction that comes home to the heart. To those who have not read it, I earnestly commend that inimitable sketch. The chaplain who had accompanied Sir Henry to Venice returned to England at the end of September, 1606. There has been recently published in the Notes and Queries a letter from Sir Henry to the Earl of Salisbury, dated from Venice on the 23rd of February, 1606-7 (y°u must bear in mind that the year then ended in March), in which the writer says — " I have occasion at the present of the begging of your Lordship's support and encouragement for one Mr. Bedell, whom I shall be very glad to have with me in the place of chaplain, because I hear very singular commendation of his good gifts and discreet behaviour. It WILLIAM BEDELL. 21? may, therefore, please your Lordship, when he shall take the boldness to present himself before you, to set forward also this piece of God's service." Soon after this, Bedell repaired to Venice. It was the crisis of the memorable conflict between the Pope and the State. This conflict is the subject of a recent popular volume by Mr. Trollope — " Paul the Pope, and Paul the Friar." Venice had long held a distinguished place among the Italian States. Her extended empire seemed as if it would be the most durable which had been formed on any con- stitutional principles since the days of the Romans. In the eighth century she had established relations with France, Turkey, and Egypt ; in the fourteenth century, with England. Her commercial enterprise, and the free intercourse which followed, led her to maintain religious tolerance and civil right, when other States were the dupes of superstition and the victims of tyranny. Her early con- stitution was remarkable for the allowance, both in religion and politics, to private enterprise and liberality, and hence she abounded with pious and charitable institutions. The widow and the orphan had their refuge ; the penitent female a suitable asylum ; there were hospitals, a board of health, a poor-law ; and the code of her jurisprudence was enlightened and equitable. The printing press was early introduced and zealously encouraged ; a love of learning and a thirst for knowledge prevailed, and provision was liberally made for mental culture, Rome, on the other hand, had naturally been an asylum of learning that had escaped general desolation ; and the rudeness of the world was favourable for the establishment of the empire that culminated in the Papacy. It began with seeming moderation, but soon advantage was taken to extend the Papal influence. A kingdom not of this world was transformed into an empire of the earth, earthy. Venice, like England, had in her early Constitution the germs of civil freedom. The bishop received his investi- ture, his ring and staff from the Doge. No synod was 2l6 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. permitted without the permission of the council. The repub- lic retained the right of censure on Venetian bishops arid cardinals ; the parish priests were nominated by proprietors in the parish ; the clergy were prohibited from meddling in political affairs, and there was a complete toleration for foreign rites. Venice never became, nor aspired to be- come, the seat of an archbishop. Their patriarch was but the Bishop of Venice : he could only convene the clergy of the city. The office was generally held by one of their no- bility ; and to guard against Papal encroachment in the event of a vacancy, they always had a new bishop-elect in readiness to succeed. Thus it was that the State had re- mained free from ecclesiastical intrigue ; and, from an early period, she took a firmer tone and asserted her right to domestic sovereignty. In the beginning of the thirteenth century. Pope Inno- cent had in vain attempted to compel her to submit to his dictation. The historian tells us that Venice did not tremble at his holy censure, nor is there any record of her submission on that occasion. This civil independence of a State is the proper expression of the secular element in society. It is embodied in our own Magna Charta ; it is found in our ancient Common Law. Towards the close of the sixteenth century a change took place in the conduct of the affairs of Venice. Up to that time they had been managed by a few patricians, ad- vanced in years, and chosen from a small circle of families ; but now a majority in the Senate, including the younger members, struggled for and obtained a share in the admin- istration : these were strongly opposed to all ecclesiastical pretensions, and to the intolerant and ambitious designs of Spain. The young statesmen and the men of letters formed a Society, of which the illustrious Leonardo Donate and the celebrated Fra Paolo Sarpi, the historian of the Council of Trent, were members ; and the Venetians, ani- mated By the spirit of these enlightened and patriotic men, were the first of all the Roman Catholic Statps to WILLIAM BEDELL. ' 217 acknowledge Henry of Navarre as King of France. At the opening of the seventeenth century, the election of Paul V. to the Papal chair brought on a crisis. This Pope had been bred a canonist ; and, from his studies in the canon law, had been led to take a transcendental view of the im- portance of the Papacy. He was prepared to assert, and push to all their logical consequences, those claims which the canonists express by "plenitude of power" but which Bishop Butler more accurately describes as " an open usur- pation of all human and divine authority!' The dissensions between the Church and the States of Italy had been inter- mittent, according to the policy of the Pope for the time being. Several of these States regarded the pretensions of this new Pope as extravagant, but thought they would soften down ; and no State seemed disposed to withstand his encroachments but the free State of Venice. There were causes of contention, many and irritating — excom- munications by the Papal Nuncio, and civil protection against them provided by the Senate ; there were Papal exemptions in favour of the rich, and to the prejudice of the poor. There was also the interference with the press by the prohibitions at Rome, by which the printing trade at Venice was seriously prejudiced. Leonardo Donato had been raised to the rank of Doge, and his friends were admitted to a share in the administration. The Pope now insisted on having two ecclesiastical convicts given up ; and also that a mortmain law, which had been passed to prevent the acquisition of real property by the clergy, and another law, restraining the building of new churches with- out the leave of the State, should be repealed.. The Ve- netians resisted, and the Pope was inflexible : then came the interdict with all its terrors. The conflict rose to its height. Bellarmine was the champion of the Church- Paolo Sarpi the counsellor of the State. He was one of the most distinguished men of that remarkable era. Like Caspar Contarini, and many other enlightened Italians, he had accepted the great truths of the Gospel with a willing 2l8 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. mind and a loving heart, but still clinging to the unity of the Western Church, of which the Papacy had been the traditional bond. There is a little volume of letters written from Venice by Bedell to the tutor of the then Prince of Wales, which Mr. Mayor has kindly allowed me to make use of In one of these I find the following passage : — " Master Paolo and his scholar Fulgentio, Jesuits both, of great learning, piety, humility, discretion, integrity of life, and, which is especially to be considered as to our purpose, in great account with all sorts, and deservedly — having in the late controversy served their country so faithfully, as the Pope cons them little thanks for their labour ; the former for a long time lived in Rome, and is holden for a miracle in all manner of knowledge, divine and human, the chief counsellor of this seigniory, in their affairs ecclesiastical. These two, as I know, having practised with them, to desire nothing in the world so much as the reformation of the Church ; and, in a word, for the substance of religion they are wholly ours." Their opinions had great influence with several of the Senate and the nobility ; and just before Bedell had arrived, hopes had been entertained of a real work of reformation. To use his own words : " The admirable consent of thit State to stand out — the learned writings of their divines against the Pope's pretended authority — the banishment of the Jesuits — the sermons : some invective against the abuses of Popes and their vices — some laying the general grounds of reformation as the time would bear, in the doc- trine of the authority of the Holy Scriptures — explicit faith against blind ignorance masked with the name of Church belief — the grace of God, whereby we are saved — the slavery of our free will to sin — these were great signs — great causes of health. But all of a sudden this hope was dashed by the peace concluded with the Pope, which was done a few days before my arrival here." I need not dwell on the mode in which this truce was brought about. The result was — to quiet the State, and WILLIAM BEDELL. 219 stay the movement which might have liberated the Church. The encroachments of the Papacy on the civil indepen- dence of the State, Venice had firmly resisted ; but in this she exhausted her efforts. She had not learned how vital is the watchword of Italian freedom, to which Cavour pointed with his dying hand as the last prayer of his heart for Italy — a free Church in a free State. Paolo Sarpi drew up the rescripts in reply to the de- mands of the Vatican. Civil authority was shown to be a trust which God had committed to the State, and it was the State that conferred property and jurisdiction on the Church. The State was her protector, and could not be lawfully subjected to foreign supremacy. A greater Paul had taught the Church in Rome that all power is from God, and that every soul should be subject to the higher powers. " To the king as supreme," are the words of St. Peter himself. A proclamation was issued, with a title-page, on which St. Mark is seen, with the book of the Gospels and uplifted sword, announcing the resolution of the Senate to maintain the sovereign authority, "which acknowledges no other superior in worldly things save God alone." " Once did she hold the gorgeous East in fee. And was the safeguard of the West : the worth Of Venice did not fall below her birth — Venice, the eldest child of Liberty. She was a maiden city, bright and free : No guile seduced — no force could violate : And when she took unto herself a mate, She must espouse the everlasting sea." Bedell's account of Venice at this time is very interest- ing. There were then not a few encouraged by the sympathy of England. " The King's name " (says Bedell) "made the Venetians stand the more upon points of honour, and doth still animate them not to yield a hair in all their negotiations with Rome." With Paolo and Fulgentio he studied daily the Holy 220 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Scriptures. He finished a translation into Italian of the treatise of Sir Edward Sandes, with annotations for their use, and he proposed to begin the good work of founding a congregation for pure worship. Deodati, the translator of the Italian Bible, was brought to Venice. Paolo assured them there were not less than 12,000 in the city more or less enlightened with the truth, and alienated from Rome ; but that until there was some civil occasion of breach with the Pope, nothing could be moved among the nobility. Bedell observes that a summary of Scripture had been published at Venice in 1567, before the Bible in Italian, and that this embraced all new and fundamental points of faith, without Popish corruption. The liturgy of the French Churches was already in Italian, and ours was in Latin, and Bedell then began and soon finished a transla- tion of it into Italian. But the peace had cooled down the opposition ; the traditionary tide returned ; the intrigues of France, the fear of Spain, and the caution of commercial policy, prevailed over higher considerations, so that worldly interests regained their ascendancy. " So hard a thing is it," says Bedell, " to follow Christ with the condition of the cross, and leaving all." " The fathers prevented my offer of myself," he adds, " saying it was not fit or convenient, in regard of jealousy of state, although my poor desire had not been backward — the matter itself being of such import- ance, as I could wish with the Apostle to bestow and spend myself in it." The opportunity was lost, but the lesson remains. It appears from Dr. Wordsworth's recent tour in Italy, that at the present time, by reason of the conflict with Rome, there are in Italy no less than thirty- four episcopal sees left without a bishop. The ancient metropolitan see of Milan waits for a successor to the venerable Ambrose, who never knew of Papal supremacy. If Italy is to be free under a king, she must have loyal bishops, godly and well learned — an educated clergy and an instructed people. The learned author of an Italian treatise, lately pub- WILLIAM BEDELL. 221 lished at Milan, thus speaks of the present state of things : " It is a lamentable truth, attested by the unanimous voice of the clergy and laity, that the teaching of the ecclesiastical seminaries of Italy, for training the priesthood, is in a deplorable state of decline. . . . The instruction is miserable in regard to the subjects taught, the mode of teaching, and the quality of the teachers." He refers to what has been said by one of the best priests in Italy, of the present age : — " We have abandoned the study of the Scriptures and of the Fathers, and have declined to the age of those wretched text-books which are used in our seminaries, and which will one day be regarded as the most trashy and repulsive compositions that have been produced in the eighteen centuries of the life of the Church — books without spirit, without principles, without eloquence, and without method. The biblical studies which have made so much progress in other countries are jejune, or rather null, in our seminary. The reading of the Holy Scriptures is neglected, and the study of Church his- tory is treated with indifference." In speaking of the effect of bringing up the clergy as a caste under a separate system, the priest says : — " They are shut up in the narrow cells of their own minds ; they are under a rigid and heartless discipline of fear ; they never attain to any noble spiritual elevation ; they become mecha- nical, material, sensual. This, for the most part, is the condition of the ecclesiastical seminary at Milan, which contains five hundred students, the future teachers of the people — the priests of the Church of Lombardy. When they come into contact with the people, they will be unable to sympathize with them ; the clergy will be anti-social, and society will be anti-hierarchical." Italy must bear in mind that if she will have her clergy a separate caste and her Church unreformed; the keeper but not the witness of Holy Writ, she may have her times of civil independence- lucid intervals like those of Venice ; but genuine freedom and true faith, which God has joined together, cannot be put asunder by the hand of man. 222 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Bedell returned from Venice to England in 1613, and resumed his parochial work. Before we bring him to Ire- land, let us glance at the measures which were adopted before that time to give to this country the benefits of the Reformation. Two things were admittedly required — the education of a native clergy, and the instruction of the people. We had then to begin where Italy has yet to begin — with a Scriptural foundation. In 1547, a proposal for a University was put forward by the first Protestant Archbishop of Dublin, George Browne. You will find it in Mr. Shirley's Papers on the Irish Church, page 5. In page 126 there is a detailed financial plan for the endowment of a College, dated in October, 1 563, and indorsed by Sir William Cecil. Many of the letters which Mr. Shirley has published abundantly testify how general was the ignorance of the clergy, who had no sort of education. Dr. Todd has given us, in the well-known Introduction to the Calendar for 1833, many interesting details in connection with the early history of our own old Alma Mater, the foundation of which was laid on the auspicious day of which this is the anniversary — the 13th of March, 1591. Enactments had been passed for establishing parochial and diocesan schools for teaching English. It seems to have been supposed that English habits and the English language might be enforced by Act of Parliament. Bacon, with enlightened wisdom, pointed out in a letter to Cecil the true policy. He advised a course of toleration ; provision to be made for the advancement of religion by faithful preaching, where the people were capable ; and (to use his own weighty words) — " The re- continuing and replenishing the College begun at Dublin ; the placing of good men to be bishops in the sees there ; and the taking care of the versions of Bibles and cate- chisms, and other books of instruction, into the Irish lan- guage." Trinity College was an early child — a fair daughter of the Reformation. In the charter of Elizabeth, she is de- WILLIAM BEDELL. 223 scribed as intended to " endure for ever." She was founded for the youth of Ireland to cultivate science and religion within those precincts, where the tree of knowledge has been planted at the side of the tree of life. In Ussher, the first of her students, she gave to the Church one of her most illustrious prelates — the first fruit of that career of enlightened progress in which, with a wise liberality, she has provided, for all who are willing to partake, the bene- fits of knowledge hallowed by the influences of religion. In her inner shrine, she guards, with vestal care, the un- quenchable light of the Reformation ; her outer court, spacious and well-ordered, is consecrated to freedom. " They dreamt not of a perishable home, Who thus could build." The spirit of our reformed religion required that our clergy should not be brought up as a separate caste, but should be trained in the society of those who are intended for other departments of life. The liberal studies, the ex- tended range of information, the careful culture of the mental and the moral powers, all that properly deserves to be called education, is assuredly not less necessary to qualify for the sacred office of the Christian ministry, than for the work of the secular professions. The College had gone through a crisis of internal dis- cord before the appointment of Bedell, who in the year 1627 was selected to fill the office of Provost. James I. had recently died ; Charles I. succeeded to the throne. One of the latest acts of James was the elevation of Ussher to the Primacy. I will not weary you with details, familiar to many and accessible to all ; but I cannot forbear to observe, that in the selection of Bedell as Provost there was an evident desire to advance the prosperity of the University and the good of the Church. Ireland had been convulsed by civil war — the victim of imperfect conquest, unstable policy, and debasing ignorance. Church property was pillaged; the churches were in ruins; the clergy 224 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. impoverished and uneducated ; the kingdom, divided against itself, was under sentence of desolation. Like Ussher, Bedell had the advantage of a good school at the first ; he had been seventeen years at Cam- bridge, where his character was formed and his reputation established ; he became a Scholar, afterwards a Fellow and Catechist of his College. He began his parochial labours at Edmondsbury, from which place Sir Thomas Jermyn presented him to the benefice which he held when he was chosen Provost. He had a peculiar skill in languages and grammar, and a power of mastering any subject to which it became needful that his attention should be directed. An exact Churchman and an earnest Christian, he con- formed to the discipline of the Church with the same con- scientious fidelity that he held and taught her Scriptural doctrines — animated by the catholic spirit of Scriptural comprehension which breathes in her formularies. His moderation became known unto all. His intercourse at Venice had enabled him to understand more perfectly the secret working and the resources of the Papal system ; and he had learned the lesson which is of the very essence of the Christian life — the lesson of charity and forbearance in judging others, He had found within the pale of another communion men of a like spirit — ^men who loved the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity. Engaged in the active labours of his ministry — appreciated and beloved by his parishioners — he sought no higher preferment than this post of paro- chial duty. Before honour is humility. When the Pro- vostship had become vacant, and other attempts to fill it up had failed, Bedell was at last thought of. Sir H. Wotton's testimony had been required to satisfy the King. " I am bound " (says Sir Henry) " in all conscience and truth to affirm of him, that I think hardly a fitter man could have been propounded to your Majesty in your whole kingdom, for singular erudition and piety, conformity to the rites of the Church, and zeal to advance the cause qf God. This is the man whom Paolo Sarpi took into his WILLIAM BEDELL. 225 very soul, communicated to him the inwardest thoughts of his heart, and professed to have received from him more knowledge in all divinity, both scholastic and positive, than from any he had ever practised in his days." Such was the testimony of this most competent witness. Ussher had been led to take an active part in having him elected ; and when the offer of this responsible ofifice was made to Bedell, his reply is truly characteristic. " I am married," he says, " and have three children ; therefore if the place requires a single man, the business is at an end. . I have no want, I thank my God, of anything necessary for this life. I have a competent living, of above .£'100 a-year, in a good air and seat, with very convenient house near to my friends ; a little parish, not exceeding the compass of my weak voice. I have often heard it, that changing seldom brings better to those that are well. And I see well that my wife (though resolving, as she ought, to be contented with whatsoever God shall appoint) had rather continue with her friends in her native country, than put herself into the hazard of the seas and a foreign land, with many casualties in travel, which she, perhaps out of fear, apprehends more than there is cause. All these reasons I have if I consult with flesh and blood, which move me rather to reject this offer (yet with all humble and dutiful thanks to my Lord Primate for his mind and good opinion of me) ; and, on the other side, I consider the end where- fore I came into the world, and the business of a subject to our Lord Jesus Christ, of a minister of the Gospel, of a good patriot, and an honest man. If I may be of any better use to my country, to God's Church, or of any better service to our common Master, I must close mine eyes against all private respects, and if God call me, I must answer, ' Here I am.' For my part, therefore, I will not stir one foot, or lift my finger, for or against this motion ; ■ but if it proceed from the Lord — that is, if those whom it concerns there do procure those who may command me here to send me thither — I shall obey, if it were not only Q 226 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. to go into Ireland, but into Virginia ; yea, though I were not only to meet with troubles, dangers, and difficulties, but death itself, in the performance. Sir, I have, as plainly as I can, showed you my mind ; desiring you, with my humble service, to represent it to my reverend good Lord, the Lord Primate. And God Almighty direct this affair to the glory of His holy name, and have you in His merci- ful protection." After a time he was induced to accept the office. He came over to Dublin himself, and we have, under his own hand, a letter to Sir Nathanael Rich, who had been edu- cated at Emmanuel College, and shortly before had been sent to Ireland to inquire into matters concerning the public revenues of that kingdom and the King's service, as well in the government ecclesiastical as civil. There was confusion and dissension in the College. After some pre- liminary matters, he writes thus : — " Having taken vpo me y° place, I endeavoured to sow vp the rent betweene y° fellowes ; & to y'. end appointed a Communid y^ next Sonday {A thing intermitted these ii yeares). Then ordered the members of o^. governing Senate, I mean y° seniors ; removeing (as by o'. charter we were bound) such as by tyme after their Degree of M'. of Arts were to be removed. Next we chose officers, gave graces in the house for Degrees, reformed some abuses in the Chappell &= Hall : as y' Evening Prayers were in the Hall, and Philoso- phicall Acts in the Chappell. But my next care was about the Statutes, which being part latin, part English, & in sheetes of Paper some stich'd together, - some loose, a heape w' out order, w'. long p'ambles, & sometyme vnnecessary , and in many things defective : w'. the cosent of y° greater part of the Seniors, I digested into a new forme, and at last perfected as I hope & published in the Chappell. The state of the Colledge in respect of the Revenew & Treasure should have been the thing I would next have entered into consideratio of. But it required a long tyme. And this in short I fownd, there was not money enough in the chest to pay y^ Commons & the stipends when y^ day should come. I consigned all the Bookes of former accounts into the handes of the Vice-Provost (M'. Lloyd) and the Auditor (S'. James Ware) desiring him to set me downe the Estate of the Colledge especially in respect of Areares. Which hitherto he sayd he could never doe, in as much as he had not so much as a Rentall of the Colledge revenewe, but had made vp every years account, only out of what was taken out of the chest, and disbursed. Wherein not- w'standing sundry Bursars had left in their hands large summes of the Colledge money, never satisfied. And to mend the matter a custom was brought in of WILLIAM BEDELL. 227 giveing to the Senior Fellowes at ther departing a Viaticum as they call it. Which also was demanded by those Fellowes who now left their places. But to these Viaticums I have I hope given a Viaticum. And when ever I shall retorne to the house, I hope to look a little better to the Accounts : & if it be possible to recover some of those hundreds w"'' I doe already by a superficial! view perceive are vnjustly w'helde fro the CoUedge, partly received & never accounted ; partly lent (as is p'tended) but w' out assent of the greater part of y° Seniors ; partly lent indeede, but never repayed ; & as it is now hoped to be granted for a Viaticum to the form' Provost. S', you may by this w'"" I have in short run over, conceive what a world of busines I am put into ; yet I repent me not of my iorney, though I have not had there one houre voyd of paines, trouble, or thought, nor do looke to have when I shall retourne, for many moneths. But if I shallbe able to setle the Colledge in a good state, for their maners, lawes, revenew, and studies, whereof in respect of many diffi- culties in each I have great reason to doubt, yet the state of y= Country con- sidered, now wholely assubjected to Romish superstition, & as it seemes, in respect of religion euen abandoned by those y' should have the care and charge of it, I have little hope euer to have comfortable day there. Unless w'. the Aple I could rejoice in Labours, & troubles, & euen to be offered vp, on the sacrifice and service of y° faith of God's people, which I do some tymes wish, & have some comfort I confess even in y'. very wishing. But I should enter into a Sea to goe about to relate vnto y" the p'sent state of religio in Ireland. Your self I beleeve would scarce beleeve it possible y'. in a few yeares since y'. being there, it should receive such a headlong downefall. I shall reserve y'. to o'. meeting, which shallbe I hope ere long, when I shall receive the Colledge, and my Lord Primates letters, or advice y'. they are in London for me. At w"^ tyme also I hope to make my excuse & satisfaction for my not seeing my Lord of Canterbury at my parting, being in truth required by my L Primate to repaire to Dublin ai' all possible speeds. I hope y" have in part made my excuse, & in any occasiS will further doe it. Meane while desiring y" to remember my [humjble service to the Earle of Warwick my ever honoured Lord I committ y" to the protection of o'. good God, and rest S' Yours ever in Christ Homingerth October the g"" to be commanded 1627. W. Bedell. [Indorsed.] To the Worsh" and my Very good friend S' Nathaneel Riche at Warwick house d'. these in London. 228 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. The Vice-Provost Lloyd turned out to be a most unruly and unmanageable Welshman, who kept the whole place in a broil ; and, perhaps, no better illustration could be given of the progress of the College than to place in con- trast the description which has been handed down of the then Vice-Provost Lloyd, with the mild wisdom and the modest merit of him who now adorns the name and the office which were then dishonoured. The state of discord which grew up after Bedell's return to England had induced him to intimate a desire of resigning the office of Provost. Several of the Fellows addressed a letter to him. " Some reports," they say, " have possessed very many in this king- dom that you intend to resign your place of Provost in this College, and to continue your residence in England, which reports as we hope are most untrue, and such thoughts are far from your heart, whose zeal and affection doth aim, above all things, at the glory of God and the good of His Church ; both which you cannot anywhere so much as in this kingdom further advance, if it please you to continue and persist in your former zealous and godly resolutions : as we know no man so worthy of this government as your- self, so our affection and duty do ever, according to your deserts, prefer you before all others. Your first endeavours among us do assure us of prosperous success in the godly estimation of the students of this society, and pronounce much future happiness to arise to this Church and Com- monwealth by your longer residence and godly labours." But there was a faction in the College animated by another spirit, which led Bedell to write to Ussher in these words: — " The arts of dutiful obedience and just ruling also in part I did, for seventeen years, endeavour to learn under that good father, Dr. Chaderton, in a well-tempered society: the cunning tricks of packing, siding, bandying, and skir- mishing with and between great men, I confess myself ignorant in, and am now, I fear, too old to be taught." Ussher had discovered the true value of Bedell — his ear- nestness and simplicity of purpose — the strength and the WILLIAM BEDELL. 229 influence of his gentle goodness — his lofty reverence for duty — and the genial kindness of his heart. He had been led to suppose that Ussher himself had disparaged him in his absence, as a weak man and unsuited to govern the College ; but when he found Ussher so urgent for his re- turn, advising him to have faith in God, and not to consult with flesh and blood, he yielded all private considerations, and resumed his office. So early as 1 5 50, instructions had been sent to the Lord Deputy from England, to have the service of the Church in the English tongue where it was understood by the people ; " and where the inhabitants understood not the English tongue, then to cause the English to be translated truly into the Irish tongue, unto such time as the people may be brought to understand the English, giving straight order for the observation thereof" The Prayer Book, as it stood in 1 549, had been translated into French for the use of the King's subjects in Calais and the Channel Islands ; and this translation was amended afterwards so as to cor- respond with the English original. But so far from his attending to the injunction for Ireland, we now find that, in the January following, the Lord Deputy gave an account of having caused the whole service of the Communion to be translated into Latin ! Mr. Shirley has published an extract from this letter of the Lord Deputy, which is appropriately dated from Maynooth, and another paper from the State Paper Office, which shows that this device came from the English Council. It seems to have been the policy of an influential party to discourage the use of the Irish language, and to frustrate every attempt to turn it to account for education and public worship. The Act of Uniformity (1560) thereupon recited, " that as in most places there could not be found English minis- ters to serve in the places appointed for common prayer ; and if some good tnen were provided, that they might use the service and administration of the sacraments as prescribed, in such language as they might best understand, the due 230 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. honour of God should be thereby much advanced; and for that also that the same may not be in their native language, as well for difficulty to get it printed, as that few in the whole realm can read the Irish letters ;" and then it pro- ceeds to enact — " That in every such church where the common minister or priest hath not the use or knowledge of the English tongue, it shall be lawful for him to use the service and administration of the sacraments in Latin !" Compare this with the injunction of 1550 — how striking is the contrast ! In 1 571, Queen Elizabeth sent to Dublin the celebrated font of Irish types which afterwards fell into the hands of the Jesuits, and were carried off to Douay. An order was obtained that the prayers of the Church should be printed in the native language and characters, and a church set apart in the shiretown of every diocese, where they were to be read, and an Irish sermon preached to the people. All this, you observe, was before the foundation of the College. The Church Catechism in this year, 1571, was translated into Irish ; but nothing further was done for the space of thirty years, and then the New Testament in Irish was printed. It was the work of William Daniel, who was educated in Trinity College, and was one of the first of its Fellows. In 1608 he was made Archbishop of Tuam, and published an edition of the Prayer Book in the Irish lan- guage and character. In the Preface, which is written in English, this excellent man takes courage and gives good counsel. " The blessed Trinity," he says, " hath already founded a College upon our eastern shore, wherein learning and religion begins to flourish, and (rising with the sun) to spread the beams thereof already to some parts with much comfort and joy. And I nothing doubting but that in God's good time, by the means thereof, and by the like schools of good learning [the chief est means of reformation), the country that doth now generally sit in darkness shall in time see great light to their everlasting comfort." " Having, out of an understanding heart, wisely con- WILLIAM BEDELL. 23 1 sidered that the Hturgy of the Church, coming in the cloud of an unknown tongue, can leave no blessing behind it, as both the Apostle teacheth, and this poor Church can testify by woful experience, it pleased your Lordship [the Deputy, Chichester] to impose upon myself the burthen of trans- lating the Book of Common Prayer (the liturgy of the famous Church of England) into the mother tongue, for the comfort of the mere Irish Churches, to the end that the ignorant may understand how grossly they are abused by their blind malicious guides, which bear them in hand, that our Divine service is nothing else but the service of the devil. My good Lord, I was as willing to undergo this burthen for the good of the Church, as your Lordship was zealous to command the same ; and having translated the book, I followed it to the press with jealousy and daily attendance to see it perfected — pained as a woman in tra- vail, desirous to be delivered." " I humbly pray your Lordship to send it abroad into the country churches, together with its elder brother, the New Testament, to be fostered and fomented. God's bless- ing and mine be with them." James I. had complained that the College had not satisfied expectation in providing a native ministry for the Irish, although a liberal provision had been made for this special object. A number of scholarships had been re- served for native students who spoke Irish, but no attempt had been made to encourage the study of the language until the time of Bedell resuming his office in 1628, when it was ordered that there should be an Irish lecture, at which all the native scholars were required to be present ; and Irish prayers should be read in the chapel upon holidays. He had revised the College Statutes, written them out anew with his own hand, and submitted them, when he was in England, to the Archbishop of Canterbury. " He disliked the rule," says Bedell, " as to students wearing gowns always in the University, but ' only if it might be' when they went into town ; whereas, he said, that of all 232 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS, Other should have been provided for. I answered, the streets of Dublin were very foul." This is a badge of dis- tinction by which Dublin has since obtained a world-wide notoriety. The substance of the code by which the College has been long and successfully governed — under which it has grown into the fulness of its prosperous condition — was, in a great degree, the work of Bedell. He intimated to Ussher the importance of making the College something better than a mere seminary for the clergy ; and he suggested the advantage that would accrue to the country from en- couraging the faculties of law and medicine, and thus spreading around the generous influences of well-ordered learning. The primary purpose of the foundation was the education of the ministry of the Reformed Church — a purpose best promoted by the free admission of those who desire to receive liberal instruction. It is for the common good that all should mingle in the free inter- course and with the fresh feelings and the sympathies of ingenuous youth ; the same basis should be laid, by train- ing their faculties, and enabling them profitably to pursue their special studies, with enlarged and cultivated minds. It is a contrast not without significance, that whilst the Church of Rome refuses to the laity of her own com- munion any share of the instruction given in her seminary, for which an annual public provision is made that exceeds the rental of Trinity College, we offer to all, without dis- tinction, our educational advantages. Prizes and emolu- ments are open to free and honourable competition as far as can be allowed without prejudice to that Protestant foundation which secures to the Roman Catholic as well as to the Protestant laity the common privilege of both. This is not the work of a spurious liberality, but the reflec- tion of that perfect law of liberty which is the glory of the Reformation. Bigotry will rend, and indifference will cast lots ; it is the happy distinction of Trinity College to be as free from the intolerance of the one, as the secularity of WILLIAM BEDELL. 233 the other. Our University has proved itself worthy of the public confidence in its curriculum of literature and science ; its schools of medicine, surgery, and law ; and another school that has won an honourable reputation by unrivalled success in training for the civil and the military service of the State some of the best of the youth of Ireland, thus realizing Milton's description of complete and generous education, " that fits a man to perform justly, skilfully, and magnanimously, all the offices, both private and public, of peace and war." In the midst of this free and healthful atmosphere, the school of divinity has been established ; and the wisdom of moderation is there happily blended with an earnest love of truth. Forgive me if I have lingered over a topic from which the hour calls me away. Nor can, I part from it without a passing tribute of grateful affection to the venerable Insti- tution — " Where I was awed — religiously possessed With a conviction of the power that waits On knowledge, when sincerely sought and prized For its own sake." There I learned to love the studies which are still my solace and delight. With the protection of her interests. — the sacred interests of learning and religion — are associated the happy memories of my public life, and the friendship of the wise and good — by me never to be forgotten. May her peaceful progress continue, like the path of the just, shining more and more unto the perfect day ! Bedell's care and government of the College as Provost had been noticed at headquarters as having wrought a great reformation. In 1629 the See of Kilmore and Ardagh had become vacant, and he was now chosen to fill the office of a bishop. The state of the Irish Church was deplorable. The Court of Rome had recently succeeded in planting throughout the country the complete organiza- tion of a rival system. In Mr. King's admirable history, 234 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. and the instructive volume of sermons on the Irish Church, which were preached in Westminster Abbey, and have since been pubHshed by Canon Wordsworth, you may read what I cannot more than glance at, but it explains much of the past and present of Ireland, and with refer- ence to the future should be studied with thoughtful attention. The appointment of such a man as Bedell at such a crisis was an earnest of good-will to the Church and the people. The Papal policy is truthfully described by the late Bishop Doyle, in a passage which has been quoted by the present Attorney-General (Mr. O'Hagan) in a published argument : — " Thus it was that in bad times, in times of turbulence and barbarism, the claims of the Popes to the sovereignty of almost every kingdom in Europe grew up in silence, and were admitted and sanctioned by nearly all the ruling powers. It must be quite obvious that those claims had not their origin in the Gospel, nor in the doctrine of the Catholic Church, but in the state of society, in the mistaken zeal or in the ambition of some Popes — a zeal or an ambition excited and directed by an insatiable avarice, pride, and thirst of power in their followers and dependents." It was and it is quite obvious, though the eye of " infallibility " did not see it. Happy had it been for Italy and for Ireland, if what Bishop Doyle has admitted to be quite obvious had been the creed of Rome in the time of Pope Paul V. — happier still; if the policy of the pious Bedell had been adopted. We have Sir John Davis's graphic account of the district in which Kilmore is situate, drawn up in 1 607, on the occasion of the tour of the Lord Deputy Chichester, whom he accompanied : — " As for the vicarages, they are so poorly endowed, as ten of them being united will scarce suffice to maintain an honest minister. For the churches, they are for the most part in ruins ; such as were presented to be in reparation, are covered only with thatch. But the incumbents, both par- sons and vicars, did appear to be such poor, ragged, WILLIAM BEDELL. 235 ignorant creatures (for we saw many of them in the camp), as we could not esteem any of them worthy of the meanest of those livings, albeit many of them are not worth forty shillings per annum. This country doth lie within the diocese of Kilmore, whose bishop (Robert Draper) was and is Parson of Trim, in Meath, which is the best par- sonage in all the kingdom, and is a man of this country birth, worth well nigh ;^400 a year : he doth live now in these parts, where he hath two bishoprics, but there is no divine service or sermon to be heard within either of his dioceses. His Lordship might have saved us this labour of enquiry touching matters ecclesiastical if he had been as careful to see the churches repaired and supplied with good incumbents, as he is diligent in visiting his barbarous clergy, to make benefit out of their insufficiency, according to the proverb which is so common in the mouth of one of our great bishops here — that an Irish priest is better than a milch cow." Such was the state of the diocese to which Bedell was now promoted. He had every qualification for his high and holy office. He grappled boldly with every form of ecclesiastical abuse. He enforced residence, and put down pluralities ; he convened his clergy, and, in the true spirit of a chief pastor, pressed on their consciences the sacred responsibility of their office. The exactions and impositions by which the people were oppressed under the ecclesiastical courts, vexed his righteous soul ; for he had a passionate love of justice, and in a memorable contest with the chan- cellor of the diocese, which for years he fought single- handed, he manifested such a firmness of purpose, such moral courage, and such a spirit of self-sacrifice, as is, I believe, unexampled in the history of the Church. " My Lord " (he says, in a letter to Laud, then Bishop of London), " I do thus account, that amongst all the im- pediments to the work of God amongst us, there is not any greater than the abuse of ecclesiastical jurisdiction. 236 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. This is the opinion of the most godly, judicious, and learned men that I have known, and the demonstration thereof is plain. The people pierce not into the inward and true reasons of things ; they are sensible in the purse. . . . . Let us preach never so painfully, and live never so piously ourselves, so long as the officers in our courts do prey upon the people, they account us no better than publicans. And so much the more deservedly, because we are called spiritual men and reformed Christians." To every form of unjust or unnecessary exaction, prac- tised on the people or on the poorer clergy, he offered an uncompromising resistance, as a thing forbidden by the Holy Scriptures and against the spirit of the Reformed re- ligion. Abuses — not yet rooted out, though much abated — that still defile our Church, especially in England, this godly man denounced with unflinching courage. He hesi- tated not to remind the Primate of the reform that was re- quired in his own court ; with untiring energy he attended in person throughout his united dioceses, so as to secure some measure of justice to the people, and save them from an iniquitous and oppressive system. The extent to which injustice was carried at that time is scarcely conceivable by many whom I now address. For my own part, I say ad- visedly, I hope the day is not distant, when the righteous policy of the good Bishop of Kilmore will be thoroughly carried out, in the true spirit of the Reformation, through- out the United Kingdom. " The thing most to be wished," he says, " were some good reformation in Church matters, but I believe rather nothing will be done than anything much bettered." It is not many years — not more, I think, than seven — since the Bishops of the Irish branch of the Church exhibited a different spirit from that which left Bedell without any support or countenance in reforming Church abuses. Our late revered and beloved Primate at the head, and our present much esteemed and honoured Primate, then Bishop of Kilmore, as the junior Bishop, at WILLIAM BEDELL. 237 the foot, offered to surrender all the episcopal patronage in the ecclesiastical jurisdiction, to enable the Legislature to provide a complete reform, by which abuses might be re- moved, unreasonable exactions suppressed, and public con- venience secured by a system of registries, and by a code of discipline for the United Church, adapted to the exigen- cies of the time. The inveterate and traditional abuses of the English system, and the interests and patronage in- volved, have hitherto frustrated this excellent project, and stopped the way of a reform that is most necessary. There is no true friend of our Church who will not rejoice in the exposure and removal of every abuse and every grievance, whether in England or Ireland — every impediment to the free actiqn of those higher influences by which alone, under the blessing and favour of God, she can strike root into the hearts of a wise and understanding people. There is an idiom in truth that falsehood cannot imitate — and there is a genuineness in a good man that wins the affections and respect of the people. The most trustworthy writers on the Irish character agree in this, that there is nothing which the people more quickly appreciate, than justice administered in its own spirit. The efforts of the Bishop to save the poor people from a grinding system of exaction and oppression, soon endeared him to them as the poor man's friend and best protector. But there was another way to win their affections — a way that Parliament had proscribed and State policy discouraged — the use of the . Irish language. " The people have souls," said the godly . Bishop, " and they ought not to be neglected till they can learn English." He endeavoured to get ministers who had skill in the Irish tongue, for the parishes where there were many of the native people ; and he himself set to work to learn the language, and was enabled, at last, to complete that enduring monument which consecrates his name and memory — the Old Testament in the Irish tongue. He adopted the policy that Archbishop Daniel had already 238 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. commended, which our excellent Irish Society has made use of, with honesty of purpose and remarkable success, and assuredly it deserves the cordial support of every true- hearted Christian. In all his reforms, Bishop Bedell sought for guidance in God's holy Word. He appealed to the text in I Cor. xiv. 19 — " Yet in the church I had rather speak five words with my understanding, that by my voice I might teach others also, than ten thousand words in an unknown tongue." This was his warrant for preferring humbler men, able to converse with the natives and per- form divine offices in their own language, rather than placing over the people men of greater abilities and learning that wanted the language. And as in the case of pluralities, to set an example and take away every show of argument, he resigned one of his bishoprics, Ardagh, and retained but Kilmore only ; so in a like spirit he began the study of the Irish language in his fifty -ninth year, and by patient dili- gence attained a good perfection, by which, as I have ob- served, he was enabled to leave that precious legacy to Ireland, the Bedell Bible. His difficulties were many, subject, as he necessarily was, to be imposed upon by pretenders and men of inferior character, who, with Irish cunning, found out his ways and practised on his generous nature. This, I believe, affords the true solution of the rebuke which he got from Primate Ussher, who gave him credit for his good intentions, but manifestly distrusted the soundness of his judgment in respect of the management of his diocese. At length, how- ever, these two godly men came together, on the memo- rable visit of Bedell to the Primate, when all misgiving was cleared up, and all distrust removed. " floly and heavenly spirits as they are, Spotless in life, and eloquent as wise, With what entire affection do they prize Their Church Reformed ! — labouring with earnest care To baffle all that may her strength impair ; WILLIAM BEDELL. 239 That Church, the unperverted Gospel's seat, In their afflictions a divine retreat ; Source of their liveliest hope and tenderest prayer ! The truth exploring with an equal mind, In doctrine and communion they have sought Firmly betvveen the two extremes to steer : But theirs the wise man's ordinary lot To trace right courses for the stubborn blind, And prophesy to ears that will not hear." I could have willingly enlarged on the course pursued by Bedell in his episcopal office — and followed him in or- daining ministers — in his whole career of exorcising out of his diocese injustice and oppression— in his sympathizing intercourse with all classes of the people — in the visitation of his clergy — in his diocesan synod — in his correspondence with Laud — in his interviews with the wise though imperious Strafford — in the Convocation of the Clergy in 1634 — in his care of all the churches committed to his charge. And then I might have traced him in his household, where all was sanctified by prayer and praise, and the pure Word of God ; and at last, in that terrible crisis of the great rebel- lion, when God was his hope and strength, a very present help in trouble. But time does not allow me to enter upon a narrative which I would not abbreviate, and I could not paraphrase. Never had the Church a more true-hearted, faithful, and efficient prelate — a genuine son of the Reform- ation. " Bedell's character was a noble one — distinguished by simplicity, courage, modesty, firmness, and single-minded- ness." This is the summing up of our Chairman, the Lord Primate ; and few, if any, have given greater attention to the personal history of this faithful servant of Christ. In the Holy Scriptures and in primitive usage, he found the effective remedy for every evil, and the true principle of reformation. For the real efficiency of the Christian Church, no nostrums are needed — no refined policy is re- quired. God's ways are not as our ways ; and His Church, which He has purchased with His own blood, must be ^maintained in the way and by the means which He has 240 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Himself appointed. Look through the world — study his- tory — and you will find this — what men sow, sooner or later that shall they also reap. Godly and well-learned bishops, an educated and enlightened clergy, an instructed people — in a word, a free Church in a free State — is the sum and substance of the highest policy. It is not the work of usurpation, nor of arbitrary power ; it cannot be upheld by ignorance nor by credulity ; it is an edifice which all must help to build up patiently, and faithfully to preserve in the spirit of freedom and with the love of truth. Much of the personal history of Bedell I must leave for your own private reading. It is a history that Coleridge has said should be circulated through every parish and vil- lage in the kingdom. At the last he fell into the hands of the rebels ; they took possession of his house and of his property, but not a hair of his venerable head was injured. The old castle remains in which he lived as a prisoner ; and when he was liberated, he was suffered to go to the house of Mr. Sheridan, where he afterwards died. The parting address to his family, spoken from the bed of death, and recorded by Burnet, fitly closed a life of faith and patience. " Be of good cheer — whether we live or die, we are the Lord's." These were his last words. He had expressed a wish to be laid close to the remains of his beloved wife, near a sycamore which his own hands had planted — there to be buried without pomp or ceremony. But when his family and attendants were proceeding to the spot, the rebel chief of the district, with his troop, met and escorted the funeral procession. His body was committed to the earth, there to rest till the archangel's trump shall sound. In silent prayer his few and faithful relatives and friends parted with one who had been indeed their father in God. The rebel chieftain, with his company under arms, gathered around the grave ; and a Roman Catholic priest, who had been one of his tenants — had witnessed his blameless life, and doubtless often shared his kindness — stood close at hand. They WILLIAM BEDELL. 241 came not to revile an alien or to curse a heretic ; they paid him the last honours of a soldier, and he was hallowed as a saint. " O'er the grave where our hero was buried," the rebel troop discharged a funeral volley, and " left him alone with his glory." The kind-hearted priest thought of the gentle spirit that had shaken from its emancipated wings the dust and the dews of mortality, and soared aloft amongst " the just made perfect;" he breathed forth that memorable prayer — " Oh ! may my soul be with Bedell ! " May the spirit of Bedell be with us in this divided land ! That faithful, fearless, loving spirit, subdued the enmity and won the affections of all. His were not carnal weapons — the bigot's scowl — the tongue of strife — the nar- row heart. The pencil of inspiration has fitly traced his epitaph : " In all things approving himself as the minister of God ; in much patience, in afflictions, in imprisonment, in labours, in watchings ; by pureness, by knowledge,' by long-suffering, by kindness, by the Holy Ghost, by love unfeigned ; by the word of truth, by, the power of God, by the armour of righteousness, on the right hand and on the left ; as unknown, and yet well known ; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet ' making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing all things."* * See the eloquent and suggestive remarks of Canon Stanley in his admir- able Lectures on the Jewish Church, pp. 200- 1 . 242 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. To Mr. Mark Napier, referring to Lecture on Bishop Bedell. i Thursday. Dear Mr. Mark Napier, I am happy to hear that Mrs. Napier has found anything to interest her in what I forwarded. Mrs. Tottenham (wife of the Chaplain at Turin) got a copy of the Drogheda Address, and Sir James Hudson read it. She wrote to me to say that their views entirely coincided with mine, and that the exposition of what Italy required was, in their opinion, well founded. I have gone into the subject in a recent lecture on Bedell, who was Chaplain to Sir H. Wotton at Venice in 1606-13, afterwards Provost of Trinity College, Dublin, and Bishop of Kilmore. I hope to send you a copy in a few days, when it will be published. I will look in return for your coming pamphlet. If there are any of the University men who would be likely to take an interest in the question as to Butler's argument on miracles, if you let me know their addresses, I would order copies to be sent. Believe me, most faithfully, J. Napier. ADDRESS Delivered before the Dublin Historical and Literary Society, 21 St June, 1828. .Gentlemen of the Historical Society, We are assembled together on this evening for the pur- pose of reviewing the history of our late exertions, and of brightening the anticipations of the future by reflection on the past. Such periodical pauses in our career unbend the bow of the mind ; they furnish resting spots for contem- plation ; not suffering experience to lie fallow, as a useless and unprofitable waste, but rendering it the source of valuable and salutary admonition. Were every object in life pursued with an earnestness and avidity proportionate to its importance ; did the interest and anxiety excited in the human breast bear an exact and constant ratio to the utility of those means which are afforded of cultivating the higher and the nobler powers of the mind, no stimulus would be wanting to urge us on in the ardent pursuit ot intellectual pleasures but the spontaneous operation of our own emotions. But when we come to the consideration of those nobler objects in connection with the nature of the being on whom they are designed to operate, we find, that the impression which they are calculated to produce will be strongly modified ; and as the power of habit enables us almost to mould the human mind, we possess the means of rendering that impression forcible and lasting. It is a truth as well known as it is important, that the less affected the mind is with sensual objects, the more eager is it to 244 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. indulge in intellectual enjoyment ; the less conversant it is with low and grovelling desires, the more it thirsts for what is elevated and refined. If then the cultivation of the mind tend to strengthen and invigorate our ardour for laudable and noble pursuits ; for the prosecution of the various objects of refined research and zealous inquiry; to nurture the seeds of virtue ; to mature the principles of morality^; to annihilate the effects of our. pernicious appe- tites ; to repress the influence of sensual desires and worse than unprofitable indolence, — if these noble ends are to be thus attained, would it not be a natural inference, that the means, so far from being voluntarily unheeded and ne- glected, would be sought out with the most anxious care and unwearied diligence ? Experience tells us that how- ever natural this conclusion may be, it is by no means true ; for the. pursuit of these means is more frequently characterized by the fitful starts of caprice, and the limping pace of indifference, than the steady progress of anxious and unwearied industry. In the natural world we observe many gazing with vacant admiration on the wonders of created nature ; but it is only the man of a cultivated mind that observes with advantage, that "traces in the stars the poetry of heaven, a mystery while a beauty," and observes the glories of Omnipotence reflected in the mirror of creation. In the moral world, while the former is insen- sible to the traits of moral beauty, the latter will feel the Promethean fire glow within his bosom. In the history of the great and mighty men who have now gone down like the evening lights from the firmament, he will mark the track of glory they have left behind, and from the contem^ plation of their virtues, catch a portion of their ardour. As then the objects of meditation will always be in accordance with the cultivation of the intellectual faculties, indolence must necessarily tend to unfit the mind for the reception and enjoyment of moral truths or mental pleasures ; its attendant evils becoming a security to its continuance. Besides, the xnind: of man js, from -its nature, subject to ADDRESS TO DUBLIN HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 245 incessant change, and must therefore either be advancing in knowledge and refinement, or retrograding in ignorance and debasement : " non progredi est regredi." Hence every handmaid of mental improvement becomes deserving of high regard and anxious solicitude ; more especially when it contributes not alone to the satisfaction and delight of an isolated individual, but to diffuse the fruits of culti- vation generally through society. It is this which points out to man the advantages of a reciprocity of good feeling amidst all with whom he is associated, by demonstrating the subserviency of individual efforts in forming the com-' bined happiness and vigour of well-organized society. This feeling of mutual dependence, as well as of general benevo- lence, casts a gloom on the dreariness of solitude, while it illumines social enjoyment, and calls into active operation the finest feelings of which our nature is susceptible. To- cultivate these generous principles, to give them proper force and due direction by a contemplation of the various relation and dependence of man on man — to remove the asperities of selfish solitude, and to chasten and correct the opinions of untried energy, is the leading object of social combination. It appears to be a part of the great system of Providence, that a feeling of our individual weakness should infuse if\^to our minds a constraining bond of union, and by the influence of moral compulsion connect mankind in society. It is ^ principle we trace in the phenomena of nature ; the material world pointing with a steady hand to the advantage of co-operation in effecting stability ; show- ing us that the particles which form combined strength and durability would, if left in the unassisted singleness of existence, be impotent and ineffective. For what purpose have I indulged in these general reflections ? Because I considered them as essential, in order to awaken the lethargic mind, and to stimulate the generous principle of honourable emulation ; by pointing out, on the one hand, the expanded and noble domains that are open for the excursions of the human mind — the 246 ■ LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. rich stores of exalted pleasure and lofty pursuit, which the cultivated intellect alone could enjoy ; and on the other hand, by illustration, to inculcate the benefit of co-operation in imparting strength and vigour to those powers and faculties by which we are to soar into the regions of in- tellectual delight. We confess the importance of these ob- jects by our uniting voluntarily for mutual improvement ; and if there be amongst us individuals who sit in listless apathy, neither excited by an anxiety for improvement, nor stimulated by a laudable ambition, they furnish pal- pable evidence of the vitiating principle of indolence. By, their enrolling themselves amongst our members, they con- fess that they are conscious of the value and importance of the means that are afforded here of cultivating the powers of the mind ; whilst by their inertia, they prove themselves mere sluggish masses, upon which the best and most exalted motives cannot be brought to act ; content to re- main uninfluenced by a desire of improvement, and im- movable in indolence. They are suffering the strength and energy of youth to be impaired and disabled by wilful ignorance and obstinate sloth ; and their minds will soon resemble a neglected wilderness. They are allowing the precious moments of early life to pass away like the idle wind ; they are omitting the nurture of the fresh greenness of their youth, till the vigour of manhood will anticipate the decrepitude of age. In the morning of life, in the spring-time of existence, when we are preparing those intellectual weapons by the proper employment of which we may hope to enlighten the Senate, to animate the Pulpit, or adorn the Bar, we are too apt, whilst indulging in the visionary dreams of youthful expectation, to form a false estimate of our merits and defects. We listen to the voice of self-complacency (for there is no greater flatterer than self) ; and the ardour of youth, before it has been tempered by matured experi- ence, and corrected by sober judgment, serves to colour our impressions with gaudy and evanescent beauty. Such. ADDRESS TO DUBLIN HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 247 being the natural bias of the human mind, it becomes a matter of great importance to counteract its tendency. The false notion which we might otherwise entertain of our own capacities, might often embitter the pangs of dis- appointment, and deprive occasional success of its real and . intrinsic utility. It might suffocate genius, where its ardour should only be damped ; and in the destiny of some self- 1 elated individual, might realize the fabled misfortune of; Icarus. By bringing young minds into collision, we correct all the evils of solitary study ; we create new intellectual habits — a quickness of perception, a facility of detecting, inconsistencies in others, while we are rendered conscious of our own defects ; thus viewing, as in surrounding mirrors, the powers and faults we may possess, we are enabled so to arrange the lights of eloquence as to conceal what is de- fective and illumine what is excellent. Intellectual caloric will be often elicited, when otherwise it might have lain dormant ; whilst judgment and experience will correct the false estimate we may have formed of the distance of the object of our anxious solicitude. The purpose and design of our Society are particularly deserving of attention. If it be of advantage that the language of a country should be spoken with purity, fluency, and ease — that we should be enabled to express our thoughts with elegance and precision — the art of oratory, which combines the acquirement of grammatical accuracy, lucid arrangement, and harmonious disposition of language, with intellectual improvement, is deserving of our industrious and earnest attention. We assemble for the purpose of cultivating this art, which can only flourish in a land of freedom, but withers within the precincts of cowardice or despotism ; which has made nations and , empires pant for independence — the herald of high senti- ment, the harbinger of heroic enterprise. It involves within its comprehensive sphere the varied pursuits of literature and genius ; it calls to its assistance the powers of Reason, 248 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. to Convince — of Imagination, to delight — and of Knowledge, to instruct ; and works upon the richest materials human ability can furnish, disposing them in their due arrange- ment, and imparting to them strength and beauty. The materials may exist in many a mind, but, as an ingenious philosopher has remarked, " only as stones exist shape- lessly in the quarry, that require little more than mechanic labour to convert them into common dwellings, but that rise into palaces and temples at the command of architec- tural genius." * We have first to acquire the materials with diligence, and then to dispose and arrange them with' taste and judgment. Imagine not for a moment that mere volubility of language will compensate for a deficiency of strength and substance ; the purling ripple of shallow water is readily detected. Nothing can tend more to emasculate the reason and enervate the understanding than empty declamation — " vox et przeterea nil." The voice of sound experience has ever declared that the mind of the orator should be enriched with the stores of various knowledge and solid information. We have this truth clearly detailed in the language of one with whose name we are constrained to associate the remembrance of whatever could convince the understanding or captivate the fancy, who, in speaking of eloquence, says — " Est enim et scientia comprehendenda rerum plurimarum, sine quH verborum volubilitas inanis atque irridenda est." f In order then that we should make a beneficial use of the means of improvement which a Society formed for the cultivation of Eloquence is calcu- lated to afford, we must be persevering in the acquisition of an extensive fund of sound and useful information. The fruits of every science will contribute to assist us. The in- dividual who is best acquainted with the structure and powers of the human mind, and with the nature of our emotions, will be best enabled to convince the reason and * Browne's " Philosophy of the Human Mind," Vol. IL, p. 390, Lect. 42. t Cicero de Oratore, Lib. I. ADDRESS TO DUBLIN HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 249 to please the taste. He who has carefully examined the classic page of former days will be the better provided with the materials of illustration, and the conclusions derived from analogical reasoning ; he who has impartially searched into the origin of society, and the policy of government, will be the more prompt in detecting any deviation from the original and immutable principles of right and justice ; he who has most frequently exercised the weapons of reason will be the most likely to have their polish preserved and their edges keen, whenever they may be required for use ;■ rust both conceals the brightness and corrodes the metal- Without some such solid materials, derived from research and study, all harmony of words is unavailing : fine-spun sentences, devoid of stability of reasoning, burst like the inflated bubble ; and, in the words of the Athenian law- giver to the Lydian monarch, " The man who has better iron will make himself master of all this gold." Remember then, for I feel anxious to impress the importance of this truth forcibly upon your minds, that the most essential requisite of an orator is solid and substantial knowledge. The art of eloquence is the power acquired of arranging the valuable materials of knowledge, in the order best cal- culated to please, and best adapted to edify. The Roman orator says, " Sapientiam sine eloquently parum prodesse civitatibus, eloquentiam vero sine sapientia, nimium obessa, plerumque prodesse nunquam." In oratory we have to express with force and elegance the operations and deduc- tions of our minds : to throw a light on language, which has been aptly denominated "transparent thought;" to- convince and persuade, " delectando pariterque monendo." The extempore speaker has then the difficult double task to perform at one and the same time — to think, and clearly to express. Extemporaneous oratory has been decried by every experienced speaker as a pernicious practice, and one in which we should not voluntarily indulge. If the subject be difficult, the reasoning or the diction must one or other be sacrificed ; for the close attention which each 2S0 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. of these demands would tend to embarrass the operation of the other — whereas, in the words of Sallust, " Utrumque per se mdigens alterum alterius auxilio eget." * How then is the aspirant to oratorical excellence to proceed ? He must attentively examine the nature and bearing of the question proposed for discussion. He must commit to" writing the different steps of the reasoning, render himself certain of the accuracy of the premises, and be cautious that his conclusions have been logically drawn. He is then to consider the question under different aspects, and to^ adopt the one which appears to strike with force and beauty ; to reflect coolly on what positions should be per- mitted to work their own advancement in the conviction of his hearers ; and in this he must be guided principally by his experience of what had most forcibly and spontaneously operated on his own mind, when an opportunity had been afforded. He must then seek for natural and happy illus- tration, in order to strengthen and confirm his deduction by collateral aid ; and last of all, he must select clear and forcible language. An abundant and useful wardrobe of words can only be acquired by the attentive perusal of the best works of classic authors, and by observing their happy modes of just expression. From Johnson, he may derive strength and power, if he be careful to avoid his measured pomp and gigantic formality. From Addison, he may extract that lively force which, like the vein of the marble, appears to exist only on the surface, but is found to per- vade the entire block. Sterne will shew him the beauty and force of idiom ; Goldsmith, the power of simplicity ; Stewart, the polished excellence of philosophical disquisi- tion ; while Burke and Browne will afford the richest imagery in a full and luxuriant vintage. The ancient orators and writers of Greece and Rome afford further resources ; in the spirit-stirring fire and electric energy of Demosthenes, bearing his character in his name, the * Catilin. Bell. ADDRESS TO DUBLIN HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 25 1 - nation's strength ; the powerful and pathetic excellence of iEschines ; the calm philosophy, the laboured ease, the perspicuity and brilliance of Cicero ; all these are precious flowers, from which the young rhetorician should be sipping literary sweets, and should hoard them with the active in- dustry of the bee. For any pains he may bestow, he may feel assured he will be amply repaid ; and though he may find that much toil is necessary, in order to reach the high summit of excellence, yet when he do arrive there, he will perceive a beautiful and expanded horizon to burst upon his view, and gratefully reward him for his labour.- By the process I have suggested, of subjecting his early productions to the " lims labor," he will soon be enabled to think with accuracy and express with elegance ; and diffi- culties will diminish, while the facility will be gradually increasing. Let no individual, then, attempt to speak on a subject' which he has not previously and cautiously examined. ' The more carefully he has reasoned beforehand, the less embarrassment he will feel in expressing his thoughts ; and the more he has been habituated to the calm oratory of the pen, he will be the less liable, on any emergency, to be taken by surprise, or to disappoint expectation. Mr. Brougham, in his eloquent address to the students of Glasgow University, says — " I should lay it down as a rule admitting of no exception, that a man will speak well in proportion as he has written much ; and that with equal talent he will be the finest extempore speaker, when no time for preparing is allowed, who has prepared himself the most sedulously, when he had an opportunity of de- livering a premeditated speech. All the exceptions I have heard to this principle are apparent ones only." Let us for a moment revert to the consideration of some of those mighty men whose eloquence has brightened the history of a nation's fate, and endeared the recollection of their honoured names. The noble and elevated style of Chatham, the philosophic imagery of Burke, the skilful . 252 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. rhetoric of Pitt, the pathetic and overpowering eloquence of Sheridan, the philanthropic vigour of Fox, and the com- manding and captivating brilliance of the lamented Can- ning, were not the accidental attributes alone of natural genius, but the result of diligent and laborious study. By- Societies founded on principles similar to ours, the cradle of their early fame was rocked, their various powers were fostered and matured, and their respective capacities de- veloped. In our own country, famed for its native elo- quence, we find that all its illustrious orators received their primary impulse from that assembly, the name of which awakens so many mingled associations, " The College His- torical Society" We indeed bear a portion of its title for our designation ; but in the words of Lucan, " Stat magni nominis umbra" — occasionally refreshing it in our remem- brance, by chanting a requiem over its grave. Some of us, it is true, have prostrated ourselves, perchance, more than once, and invoked our " Magi " to suffer it to live again — " Qu6d si Threicio, blandius Orpheo Auditam moderere arboribus fidem ; Non vanse redeat sanguis imagini."* Fortunately we have not been favoured with a para- lyzing protection, but we remain insensible to the superior advantages which are bestowed upon us. True, we do not enjoy the importance which must necessarily be derived from " the letters patent" " the sanctioned charter " of our " Bounteous Mother ;" but does this in any way, or rather, • About three years since a petition was presented to the Senior Board, in the University, requesting permission to revive the Historical Society. It was even submitted by the petitioners, that any salutary restrictions the Board should think proper to impose, in the shape of ^'securities" should be con- ceded. This petition, which was signed by upwards of 400 students (amongst which were the names of all the senior students of standing and respectability, and all the resident Scholars, but one who was not devoted to literary pur- suits), was treated in such a manner as is consistent with the appellation of " the silent sister;" namely, with silent contempt. — " Tantse ne animis caelestibus ADDRESS TO DUBLIN HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 253 should it in any way, diminish the utility of the present Society ? Consider that we are not under the fostering care and anxious solicitude of a cautious Dean, whose Ulyssean ear could not listen with security to the Syren strain of any generous or happy sentiment ; we are not assailed with inquisitorial scissors, in order to trim the question for discussion into the ielegant shape and form which the etiquette of University literature might dictate ; with philosophic taste and classic elegance ; with cautious prudence for the welfare of those, " quibus maxima de- betur reverentia." We do not enjoy these blessings, but we should not despair on that account of conferring much benefit upon each other, even beyond the protection of a University.* We have happily several instances of men putting forth their strength not until they had bidden " a long farewell " to collegiate discipline ; and amongst these I may appeal with satisfaction to the names of our emi- nent countrymen, Swift, Goldsmith, and Edmund Burke — ■ names which shed lustre on the University from which they emanated, that tinge its reputation with honour, as the sun will adorn with brilliant hues the dewy mists that partially obscure his rising glory ; names which afford great examples of character acquired and reputation se- cured, even beyond the magic circle of University patronage. And remember, that even under the watchful superiur tendence of the " seven wise men" we find the College Historical Society produced orators of commanding and stupendous eloquence. I might allude to some of those who have now gone to the solitude of the tomb, but have left behind the ever-living memory of their virtues. I might appeal to the efficacy of their eloquence, in asserting their country's rights, and vindicating her honour and her glory ; * Lest some of the remarks in the above paragraph should be misunder- stood, we beg to state, that they refer to the usage of our University in the time of the College Historical Society. It is particularly to be observed, that no reference whatever is intended to the present Dean of the University, than whom no man CQuld be more justly ai»4 deservedly respected. 2 54 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. in stemming the adverse current that finally, aided by de- spicable corruption, swept away the bulwarks of our inde- pendence and prosperity. I prefer, however, with one ex- ception, to direct your attention to some who live amongst us, and still continue to adorn the records of native elo- quence and genius. The sweet-flowing and placid energy of Bushe ; the vigorous and manly fire of the immortal Grattan — " Nee viget quidquam simile aut secundum ;" the classic elegance of North ; the irresistible force and impetuosity of Plunket, with the lion-lash of powerful sarcasm, and the enlarged conceptions of an able and philo- sophic mind : these are men who have not only reflected a splendour on our University, but diffused a brightness over our country ; whose influence shall be experienced in days yet to come, when scholastic mustiness shall be smothered in Lethean slumber. In the cultivation of their oratorical powers, they called to their assistance the valuable efforts of laborious investigation and historical research. But we are not unfrequently told that reputation similar to theirs cannot now be acquired, for the times are changed. In the language of an eloquent writer, " What are the times ? The sun produces the seasons, and the earth produces the harvest ; but it is a change in the dispositions of men which unmakes the times ; for truth remains for ever the same, unchangeable and unchanged, and rests upon the basis of its own immutability."* The times are changed because w& are changed ; we who enjoy all the advan- tage of the experience of former times, and the additional benefit derived from the advancement of knowledge, fettered by few restrictions, and subjected to no unjust or oppressive jurisdiction. We have the example of all those eminent men whom I have already mentioned, to direct our steps and excite our energies ; let us not, then, imagine * Dr. Drennan's Letter to Lord Fitzwilliam. ADDRESS TO DUBLIN HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 255 that it is possible to attain to excellence without employing the means which all experience tells us are necessary and indispensable. To borrow the expression of the ancient philosopher, " there is no royal road " to eloquence ; we need not expect to discover an Aladdin's lamp, by which we may rear a fabric of splendour in the course of a single session. I cannot point to any instance of a man becoming a great orator, who had not laboured assiduously both to acquire comprehensive knowledge and command of language. The orators of former days, as well as those of more recent times, have described the toils they have undergone in attaining to eminence. The persevering in- dustry of Demosthenes and Cicero ; the unabated diligence of Erskine ; the assiduous attention of Grattan and Curran ; and the indefatigable labour of Brougham — prove to us that every means were employed to enrich the mind with abun- dant materials ; to write much, to correct, to polish ; to send forth nothing to the world but the immediate or ulti- mate result of mature and studied deliberation. Cicero describes Cato as deriving pleasure in his old age from the revision of the speeches of his earlier years : " Causarum illustrium quascunque defendi, nunc quam maxime con- ficio orationes." Having said so much on the importance and advantage of diligent preparation — having, I .hope, confirmed the jus- tice of my observations by a reference to real examples — I must implore you to weigh these remarks with calm and serious attention. The preparation for our debates is not such as might be fairly expected, and our approbation is more frequently bestowed on the noisy ebullition of ex- temporaneous oratory, than the sound produce of diligence and previous industry. We stigmatize, as devoid of talent, the person who appears only able to deliver a prepared speech ; but I must say, that if such individuals as display the solidity of preparation are not more encouraged, the purposes of this Society will soon be frustrated. The selection of questions for discussion is a matter oi 256 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. no slight importance, and too much neglected. Questions involving the principles of political economy should be more frequently chosen, as they afford substantial matter to employ the reason, and tend to check the natural incli- nation of the young orator for florid imagery. I would re- commend also, most strongly, that questions connected with modern policy, should not any longer be suffered to adorn our "Index Expurgatorius." It is impossible on several questions to speak with satisfaction, without alluding to the circumstances of recent times and existing governments ; and the mystified style which our present law obliges us to adopt, so far from operating as a pre, vention, only increases those consequences which we are anxious to avert. It has been urged that it is expedient, in order to prevent the irritation which political dissension might cause, and preclude discord and disunion. Should we not rather infer, that by discussing these questions of modern policy, a more lively interest would be excited ; and that by setting forth our opinions, substantiated by fair and manly argument, those unnatural asperities which now unfortunately exist in our country, and which have no ne- ■ cessary connection with a difference of sentiment, might gradually be removed. That the feelings of gentlemen, united together for their common benefit, should amalga- mate dissentient and unchristian principles. We might then be taught to differ, but not disagree : and as was beautifully remarked by Drennan, " resemble the solar beams, which, while they contain an assemblage of distinct colours, afford light and heat to the world by their intimate coalescence." Our artificial dissensions here might thus tend to curb and finally subdue that culpable virulence which not unfrequently debases and degrades the man in real life. It is an unfortunate circumstance that such a feverish excitement should rage in our country, that the ferocious monster of party spirit should not be suffered to sink into slumber, but be roused from its lair, by the empty brawling- of disaffected demagogues; should we, however, ADDRESS TO DUBLIN HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 257 on this account be debarred from the consideration of the existing position and circumstances of our own and other countries, by fair and rational discussion ? And is there an individual amongst us, who would find it impracticable to merge the mad violence of the partisan in the feelings of the Christian ? I am confident that the discussion of modern questions would rob angry principles of their sting, and might thus tend to hasten that period, which I sin- cerely hope is fast approaching, when imaginary grievances will no longer enjoy galvanic existence — when men, in- stead (as Bacon remarks) of " dashing the tables of the law, one against the other," will unite for the general good arid permanent prosperity of Ireland. With regard to the rewards which this Society holds out for the encouragement of excellence, it seems to have caught the national infection of employing a paper cur- rency.* Upon mature deliberation, I must say, that the conferring some substantial honour on the individual who may distinguish himself most, during each session, and thus turning our circulating medium into gold, would be of great advantage, and is deserving of consideration. I would also suggest the formation of a library, to con- tain the orations of some of our most eminent statesmen, some standard books of history and general literature. Important results have often followed small beginnings ; and I can myself testify that a library, which at its com- mencement only dignified the interior of a tea-chest, swelled in a very few years to a collection of most valuable and useful volumes ; because no book was purchased but what was demanded by the cravings of useful knowledge and practical information.! * The only reward at present conferred is a written return on each evening of meeting of the name of the person who is considered by a majority to be the best speaker. t The hbrary here alluded to is the library belonging to the Mathema- lical department of the Belfast Academical Institution, and which, like, that Institution, is found to be of increasing importance, " Mobilitate viget vires que acquirit eundo." S 258 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. I must now advert to a topic of more disagreeable character, and that is the unpardonable apathy of several of our members. Since the union of the two Societies, I believe, nay, I am confident, the best possible feeling has prevailed amongst us ; yet, in one respect, this matrimonial speculation has not proved so beneficial as might have been anticipated. There has not been a spirit of emulation produced at all commensurate to the augmentation of our numbers. As this appears to be a growing evil, I call your particular attention to its existence. The senior members, with I believe one laudable exception, treat us as a charit- able institution that claims their annual subscription : we seldom are favoured with their presence, and still more seldom hear their voice, except in the earnest exclamation of " order ! order ! " I can only say, that if they consider themselves as perfect orators, those who are anxious for improvement will be delighted to hear living examples, whose eloquence has been " matured by age, and modelled by experience :" and should their conceptions of themselves be at all below perfection, we must infer that they never have derived any advantage from their membership, or that they are insensible to the utility which this Society is cal- culated to afford. There is a cold listlessness which charac- terises our meetings, where the apathy of indolence seems to smother the generous ardour of young men, who should be anxious to suffer no opportunity of mental improvement to escape. There is but seldom exhibited the fire of energy, or the diligence of industry ; or when it is exhibited, it is damped and chilled by the frigid indifference of the hearers. Promiscuous conversation too often usurps the place of earnest attention ; the yawn of indolence is sub- stituted for the plaudits of approbation, and well might the empty benches say of their Absentee Landlords, " O fortunatos nimium sua si bona norint."* Gentlemen, I beseech you to contemplate the melan- • Virgil. Georg. IL, lin. 458. ADDRESS TO DUBLIN HISTORICAL SOCIETY, 259 choly consideration of marking time only by its loss. It is intellectual suicide ; it will demand hours of unwearied toil hereafter, when the vigour of youth will perchance be fled, and the ardour of emulation will have evaporated. By patient industry alone can you ever expect to arrive at excellence or greatness, to adorn society, or to benefit mankind. If you feel anxious not to be classed with those who are described as " fruges consumere nati ;" if you have a desire to throw a mellowed radiance over the evening of your days, you must not think lightly of the precious moments of early life. You enjoy the exalted privilege of being permitted to explore the rich and varied mines of literature ; you must not stop to lift the golden apples, but submit to early toil, arid. acquire habits of regularity and diligence. You have the examples of the great and good who have gone before you ; you have the experience of eminent men declaring to you, " that knowledge is power," that industry is strength, and that indolence debases the understanding and corrupts the heart. In this Society there is a large and extensive prospect opened to your contemplation. While large unwieldly bodies lie at anchor, as guard-ships of ignorance, only showing the force and direction of the current of advancing knowledge, you have here the privilege and the power of floating down the stream, and participating in the delights which crowd upon you as you move along. Awaken, then, all your energies, and prepare for worthy achievements ; let the next session of your meeting together derive a new tone, rather from the consideration of what you might effect, than what you have effected. Select important and interesting questions for discussion ; apply to the con- sideration of them useful knowledge, sound reasoning, and well-selected and forcible language. First provide the solid material, and then fashion and adorn it with repeated strokes of the chisel ; correct and re-correct ; every exer- tion will give increased facility. In the language of a judi- cious writer, " foster the flowers that bring on the fruit, and 26o LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Strip off the barren blossoms that merely encumber the stem."* Be industrious, be in earnest — our countrymen are more frequently admired for their talent, than com- mended for their industry ; be it your endeavour to unite the artificial excellencies of diligence to the innate bloom of genius. To Ireland I might well apply the words of Cicero : " Ingenia vero (ut multis rebus possumus judicare) nostrorum hominum, multum cceteris hominibus omnium gentium prsestiterunt."! If, then, we value our own interests — if we have an ardent anxiety for the welfare and tranquillity of our country, let us be diligent and industrious. Let us employ the proper season in the acquisition of knowledge, in order that we may be enabled to dispense it liberally to those around us in maturer years ; it will be the support of our manhood, and the solace of declining age. We must first pass through the ordeal of industry ; as the butterfly that flutters in its gaudy vesture was once the caterpillar that crawled from leaf to leaf For myself, circumstances may prevent me from ever enjoying the opportunity of again addressing you. I can' not be insensible to the advantages I have derived whilst among you, in correcting the misconceptions of youthful vanity, and directing into a more beneficial channel the faculties I may have happened to possess. But under any circumstances, I shall watch with much delight your pro- gress and improvement ; hoping that each of you may in after life be enabled to look back with pleasure and satis- faction on days then gone by. That when the plaister shall decay and fall off from the edifice which your exer- tions shall have reared, the lasting inscription shall remain in clear and legible characters ; and above all, that you may experience the proud delight which the independence created by honourable industry must necessarily afford. • Edinb. Rev. No. 89— Art. " Moore's Life of Sheridan." t Cic. de Oratore — Lib. 1. ADDRESS TO DUBLIN HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 26 1 That the closing of each succeeding session of this Society may resemble the evening stillness of a summer sky, which not only speaks of the bright and beauteous day that is then declining, but gives us anticipation of a still more glorious morrow. Again I would say at concluding, to be diligent is to be useful, to be industrious is to be happy. Suffer not the recorded warnings of experience to pass unheeded by ; but recollect the emphatic remark of the philosophic biographer, " that negligence and irregularity long continued will make knowledge useless, wit ridiculous, and genius contemptible." * * Johnson's Poets — Life of Savage. ADDRESS Before the Dublin Oratorical and Literary Institute, 8th January, i84.g. Gentlemen of the Institute, On a former occasion when I addressed you from this chair, I asked your indulgent consideration, as I was pressed by peculiar duty ; but the desire of giving you such encouragement as might arise from an interest thus manifested in the success of the Institute, and the convic- tion I felt that suggestions for your improvement would be accepted in the spirit which gave them birth, induced me to conclude, that an Address might not merely be accept- able, but useful, though simple in construction, and rather intended to be practical than profound. The like feelings have influenced me on this occasion ; I claim the same candid allowance for observations put together amidst the varied pressure of many cares : they are tendered to you not for criticism, but for your instruc- tion. I may say, however, in the outset, I feel the import- ance — the grave responsibility — which belongs to such an opportunity as now presented. The young, the generous mind, full of impulse, clothed in the morning freshness of early life, susceptible of those powerful impressions for good or for evil, that may decide the character of manhood, now listens with docile attention. It would profane the feeling with which I desire to speak on this occasion, if I allowed one sentiment of ambitious pedantry to interfere and mar the simplicity of practical suggestions, to appro- ADDRESS TO DUBLIN ORATORICAL INSTITUTE. 263 priate this Institute to your moral benefit, by dealing with it as an interesting part of a wise economy, by which you may be usefully disciplined for the duties of maturer years. The peculiar, or rather the avowed, object of the Insti- tute, is the cultivation of literature and oratory. If the attainment of excellence in either were the absorbing desire by which you are merely influenced, I would not acknowledge the merit of such ambition. Not that I would withdraw such accomplishments from the circle of liberal education ; but I place them in the circumference, and not in the centre, fully acknowledging that in their just position they are lawful, and may, under proper guid- ance, be often employed in the service of virtue. It is of great importance that on such a topic there should be no confusion of ideas ; for truth is never bene- fited by obscurity or vagueness. The benignant hand of God has bestowed on man many elements of power, which, by an appointed agency, he is left to improve and mature. Their excellence results in the equipoise of the whole. The individual man of healthy frame, cultivated intellect, disciplined morality, and instructed heart, is a noble item of society. Each depart- ment enhances and augments the good of every other ; and every duty borrows peculiar grace from the influence of the whole. To cultivate any one element of this com- bination is a part of the duty of cultivating all, and so pre- serving the symmetry and increasing the strength of their united power. But if the vigorous body and the powerful intellect, with reckless morals or impure faith, demand the cultivation of mind alone, and seek for the elegancies of literature, and the principles of a heartless philosophy as the proper business of education, I cannot, I own, enter upon the question of comparing such intelligence with general ignorance. It may be beyond human power to answer with comprehensive accuracy which of these in its results may merit more emphatically a commom condem- nation. The choice of evils assumes the anomaly, that to 264 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. choose evil at all might become a duty; and the statement of the proposition is its simplest, perhaps surest, refutation. The wise and understanding heart is not produced (so far as man is an agent) by the monastic spirit which scowls on the progress of mind, nor by the secular philosophy that sneers at the training of religion. All partial education is in principle defective ; but even when the system may not be open to the charge of an imperfect partiality, it may be quite disproportionate in reference to the position in life which those who partake of it may be intended to occupy. You will sometimes meet with men of education who are made more keenly sensible of the difficulties and dis- appointments of life, but not the better prepared to dis- charge its duties. Knowledge has given one form of power, that is, at best, valueless to them, and not conferred another more especially required. An intelligent energy to combat difficulty under discouragement — a general sub- mission to what may be intended for discipline — all this is wanting. The balance of power in the man has not been preserved ; the department in which progress would have been valuable, because appropriate to the sphere of duty, has been unduly neglected ; and energies that ought to have been regulated have exerted influences for evil. In truth, you may observe, there is a twofold species of education ; or rather, education involves two integral con- siderations. There is an education for duty requiring all the influ- ences of pure religion, and the discipline of our moral nature. This education is needed for all. There is a special education for particular positions in life, in which regard is to be had to the proper business which may constitute the general occupation of the time and energy of the pupil. These two are neither to be separated nor confounded ; for although they are evidently distinct, they are not inde- pendent of each other. I have made these observations to illustrate the view I ADDRESS TO- DUBLIN ORATORICAL INSTITUTE. 265 take of the lawfulness of intellectual cultivation. Its ex- tent and its utility must depend on many personal consi- derations, to be estimated rather according to general principles than precise rules ; and I am anxious that on such a question your opinions should be clear — exhibiting both cautious candour and sound intelligence. Never be afraid of the many-sidedness of truth. The pursuit of literature has too many charms to endure the rudeness of indiscriminate rebuke. Calculated as it is to improve the taste, it also tends to cherish a class of finer feelings, which are as sensitive as they are strong. The purity of diction, the persuasiveness of manner, the power of chaste expression, which literature encourages, ought not to be undervalued. The communication of knowledge may often much depend for its efficiency on the grace of style, and the force of language : they feather the shaft, which otherwise might fall wide of the mark : they give celerity to its flight, and precision to its aim. In this department written composition is entitled to peculiar notice. I shall have to recur to the topic ; but I may now observe upon it, that the habit of recording with the pen the productions of the mind is of paramount im- portance. Mere facility of utterance too often induces a flippancy of thought ; and when the tongue is very busy, the best powers of the mind may be very inactive. Thoughts expanded on the page before us are more likely to be deliberately considered and more clearly expressed — to be arranged in order, and with method ; an advantage that cannot be too highly appreciated. Whatever may be the privilege of a mind trained in composition, accustomed to sober reflection on the topics which are connected with the general exigencies of life, I cannot doubt that for the young student it is perilous to anticipate the result of dis- cipline in diligent study and habit of composing, by a childish feasting on the mere luxuries of oratory. I need not occupy any considerable portion of your attention, in order to classify for your guidance the writers 366 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. whose works should be the subject of study. The range of ancient classics which, in the visible improvement of school education, forms part of ordinary instruction, de- mands great attention. It may be, that in the gaiety and giddiness of boyhood, the silent processes which form the habits and taste may not be exactly appreciated ; but even there, many influences are active, though not at first ex- perienced, nor sensibly manifested. ' You have survived that interesting stage of life ; and when I announce to you the importance of an intelligent acquaintance with the select and model writers of Greece and Rome as generally necessary to form the accomplished scholar, I know I but echo the opinion of those most com- petent on such a matter to speak with wisdom and authority. I would not be understood to suggest that this important portion of study should be considered a sufficient substitute for a sound acquaintance with select authors in our own language. The pathos of Homer is not lost in the metres of Pope, or the pure verse of Cowper ; the stem morality of Juvenal echoes again in the austerity of Johnson ; the graces of Virgil and of Dryden, the philosophy of Cicero and of Burke, may form parts and counterparts of study : and there may yet remain the sweet simplicity of Gold- smith, the persuasiveness of Addison, the moral energy and unrivalled candour of Butler. But the time would fail me in suggesting all the sources from which knowledge may not merely be heaped upon the memory, but stimulate and mature the mind ; the rich treasures of our own literature, which leave you no plea for ignorance, but the miserable excuse of indolence or inattention. Let me here observe, that it is not unusual — and it is as unwise as it is uncandid — to condemn or reject an author, if in his many thoughts some dogmas we dislike, or some arguments we suspect or deny, njay be discovered. In such a spirit of unprofitable fastidiousness we waste the lesson of wisdom which, in a page without spot, may be taught in truth and soberness. The labours of the bee ADDRESS TO DUBLIN ORATORICAL INSTITUTE. 267 might teach us that sweet and nutritious stores may be sipped and collected by a wise industry even from the wildest flowers ; and thus impart the lesson that ours should be the effort to appropriate what is excellent, even where it may require an effort to separate it from a per- nicious accompaniment. In this department of literary study, where you will range amongst the productions of genius and fancy, let me especially caution you against encouraging mere senti- mentality. It wastes the affections — exhausts the springs of feeling — and enervates the judgment. The genuine impulses of the heart are intended to be carried out into the activity of conduct ; and conduct generated by sound feeling consolidates the character into a fixed habit of virtue. There is a beautiful reproductive power in this exquisite moral economy, which testifies of the wisdom and goodness of Him by Whom we " are fearfully and wonderfully made." It is adapted to all the realities of a life of duty, to promote private happiness and public pros- perity. But the brooding over passive impressions, which haunt and disturb the imagination, divert the energies of the soul, and bury all virtuous effort in the language of extravagance, is not merely unsafe, it is injurious. In this sentimental philosophy will be found all the specious sophistry which lures the ignorant or the distressed into crime and disaffection. ' It cannot bfe satisfied with plain realities ; differences which sincerity justifies, and which can alone be softened usefully by individual moderation, are covered by the flimsy veil of sentimental hypocrisy. Jacobinism is falsified into fraternity, and Communism is merely social, because it is gregarious. All this unhealthy system is high-sounding and hollow. It begins with its delusions, and ends with its destructiveness. The discipline you desire belongs not to this school ; but as the character is vitally affected by the training of the feelings and affec- tions, a watchful jealousy is needed, when surrounded by the temptations of elegant literature, the glow of genius, and the flash of fancy. 268 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. It might be supposed by some that exposure to such perils is a sufficient reason for denying the lawfulness of literature as a subject of your study. What part of the entire economy of life, affording opportunity for improve- ment, is not exposed, I would ask, to the peril of abuse ? But as the peril increases, it is the more important to note the seductions against which we should be ever watchful ; to avoid them with modest caution ; to keep before us the proper purposes of study; and above all, to spread out all our diligence to the light and warmth of sacred truth, assured that no energy below can truly prosper if secluded from those influences which must come down from above. The study of History occupies, and most properly, a large share of your attention. It may, perhaps, be well to remind you, that we are sometimes prone to judge of men of other days, without endeavouring to place ourselves in their exact position, and enter into all their difficulties and feelings. This may arise from the absence of that fixed equity of judgment, that habitual fairness of mind, which requires very great attention and gradual training to acquire. From the position in which we view the past, we are tempted to judge of motives by remote results, and attribute previous design where even anticipation had not existed. The complexity of life, with all its incidents, is moulded into its results by Him " who shapes our ends, rough hew them as we may ; " but when, in their present fulness, the whole series of events is disclosed to us, we should not forget how different was the position of those whose undisclosed future was our recorded past. The student of history who desires real improvement will not overlook that remarkable portion of the moral government of God that is traceable in His dealings with nations. The equities of individuals are not necessarily to be disposed of in this preparatory stage of existence ; but the destinies of nations are differently circumstanced : and although the survey even here cannot be accurate unless, as it is comprehensive, there is enough to satisfy the ADDRESS TO DUBLIN ORATORICAL INSTITUTE. 269 simplest mind which examines the subject with directness and candour, that it is by righteousness a nation is exalted. The concentration of power, which justifies the continu- ance of conquest, must be truly moral ; and the more it harmonises with the rule of the Divine government, the more universal and enduring will be the sway of its sceptre. I cannot part from this topic without directing your attention to the work of an old and venerated friend, the late Dr. Millar. His " Philosophy of History," revised by his patriarchal hand, has been recently reprinted in a cheap and convenient edition. It merits all that attention which modest learning, chastened experience, and matured piety can claim for the labours of one who has left behind a memory which embalms him. Perhaps I ought not to omit to notice, that what may properly be dealt with as a national act, must in its nature be considered rather with reference to the principles of outward acknowledgment than as the result of individual conviction. This distinction you will find to be of import- ance ; for otherwise the dealing with a nation could not be estimated by those who could not know the sincerity of motives, though they could accurately judge the tendency of any movement or measure, properly to be considered as one for which the nation is responsible in its aggregate or collective character. I venture next, but with much diffidence, to approach the subject of Oratory. It is impossible not to feel the difficulty of dealing with this topic, and yet, to be handled usefully, it must be discussed without reserve. A happy facility of expression is undoubtedly of much importance ; and such a familiarity with the use of speech, as may save us from the embarrassment which, often discomposes the mind by the struggling of the tongue ; but on this occasion I feel it the rather incumbent to point out some of the dangers to which you are exposed in this attractive de- partment. A prattling fluency is not, perhaps, difficult 270 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. to acquire ; and thoughts which float upon the surface may be readily misapplied in the business of a vulgar sophistry. Avoid, anxiously avoid, that pernicious habit of speaking merely for the sake of speaking. I would especially recommend a diligent preparation for every debate ; the careful collection of details, and the methodi- cal distribution of them into the order of argument. Put much of your thoughts on paper beforehand; endeavour, if I might so say, to create trouble in the task ; for the difficulty of preparation for any duty, if rightly used, is the best security for its useful performance. Avoid the habit of understating or undervaluing the arguments with which you have in, reality to grapple ; and do not advocate any side of a question against your own conviction. It is true, that in the profession to which I have the honour to belong, and which some of those whom I address may yet adorn, the rule I propose is not con- sidered to apply in the sense in which I- am pressing it on your attention. But the reason is discoverable without requiring the disturbance of any principle of morals. Human law is composed of many positive and artificial rules for the control of general conduct, and it deals with outward actions as injurious to society. The results with which the law is conversant are such, properly, as are dis- coverable by its own rules and processes, and upon which a human tribunal may finally pronounce. Thus, where a man is accused of crime, it is not the province of law to go beyond the region in which its established rules have jurisdiction, to assume or suggest his guilt. The advocate, therefore, has the justifiable duty to see that the rules of law are accurately observed in the prosecution of the legal enquiry in which he is engaged. Whether an objection allowed by the law should be relied upon as an answer to a charge or the defence to a claim, may be a question of conscience for the client, but can no more enter into the duty of the advocate in discussing it than of the judge who decides. It is in the use of the objection, not in its ADDRESS TO DUBLIN ORATORICAL INSTITUTE. 2/1 discussion or decision, that the moral question arises ; the objection, which may be the sword of fraud, may be the shield of honesty. Therefore it is that a system which must be administered for general advantage, , must, of necessity, be prejudiced in its true perfection, if a rule of general application might be fixed in a case where an advocate's assistance was refused, because on materials necessarily imperfect, and in the absence of the true elements of decision, a partial, though well-intended, dis- approval had induced the advocate to be silent. Your position, however, is altogether different. You deal with questions on which opinion ought to be sincere, and not embarrassed in its formation by the ambition of victory in debate. The exception to the rule, as I have stated it, is admitted with reluctance, and not without much distrust by the common opinion of society, from which we may observe how strongly this testifies against the conflict of argument and conviction, Should it be the province of some whom I address to discharge forensic duty hereafter,. I trust you will not have reason to regret the moral benefit of sincere advocacy in your preparation in this place. It is well to blunt tempta- tions which, though they must at some time be encoun- tered, ought not to be prematurely courted ; and although I am fully satisfied that the exception, as explained, is justified by its peculiarity, I would rather isolate it, and fence it round, than encourage its influences beyond its foundation. I have urged some rules by which the opportunities of debate may be made subservient to a healthy discipline. The observation of real life may illustrate the importance of a discipline in all things. Observe the mind matured and trained, steering amidst the intricacies of a life of duty with safety and success. Contrast the fitful and irregular deviations of the undisciplined adventurer, drifting in every current, and veering with every passing breeze. Impulse masters him— discouragement disheartens, and difficulty 272 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. overwhelms him. But in reference to the want of careful- ness in the particular departments of literary and oratorical preparation, is it unusual to see sentimentality degenerating into vice, and eloquence corrupted into crime ? But even in earlier stages of decline, " Knowledge has become useless, wit ridiculous, and genius contemptible." The sober-minded student will zealously guard against the abuses of these attractive pursuits. He will see that the struggle of discipline may sometimes deny him the passing excitement of an evening's display, but will enrich his nature, his habits, and his character, with less captiva- ting but more enduring realities. This Institute should be profitable or it should not be supported ; and the most satisfactory answer to its possible abuses will be found in its real utility. To be avoided, abuses must be analyzed and noticed ; nor will your generous minds ascribe to me any desire to be austere, because I urge the value of a discipline which giddiness may condemn as too grave for youth. I cannot but feel that I share in the responsibility of what you may here accomplish. Before I was called to a post of public duty, you sought me as your President, and I have ever found you desirous of guidance for good. There are amongst you, I cannot doubt, some who may yet occupy important positions in life, and mingle in its activities powerful influences. The generation now ad- vancing into manhood may have to fight the battle of our national prosperity. It is an hour of solemn interest — a time in which the maintenance of the highest forms of truth, and the exercise of the most disinterested duties, may, so far as man is concerned, be much more the effort of a faithful few than the labour of the many. Amongst large masses of society, secondary influences prevail where, perhaps, their sources have never been traced. The pre- cepts of a pure faith, where its standard of morals is publicly accredited, may be so honoured by a public opinion that a virtue may go out from it ; and thua it is ADDRESS TO DUBLIN ORATORICAL INSTITUTE. 273 that in well constituted society, with all its gradations and influences striking downwards, a permanence is acquired which is only lost when the fountain of influence is ex- hausted, or its channels obstructed. Preparation is your watchword now; it must soon be active exertion. But both are individual and personal. The paralyzed powers we sometimes notice, the despondence of some, the im- patience of many, the prostration of all, declare to us that whatever be the causes, we have not an adequate instru- mentality to grapple with the difficulties of this season of our country's agony. It is, therefore, as the many are weak, the few should seek to be strong ; and I advert to this for no other purpose than to urge on you, that every opportunity of real improvement should be cherished as a peculiar blessing. How great a boon to your country, if even you begin the duties of manhood with that moral attention which sound reflection commends ; accustomed to expose those fallacies by which discontent has often been fanned into disaffection ; and the neglect of the appointed means, which, in the unchangeable laws of wisdom and goodness, must be used to secure prosperity, has been often sought to be corrected by other processes than those of industry and virtue. Every one of you thus disciplined will aug- ment the moral power, and brighten the hope of our un- happy country. I have glanced at the difficulties which may hereafter beset your path in life ; but remember, the whole economy of life involves difficulty, discipline, and progress. It begins in the divine arrangements of the domestic constitution. Authority softened and commended by all the influences of tender sympathies and affections, trains us to subordi- nation, and duties are to be performed, the obligation of which we cannot evade, for they spring from a relation of divine appointment. Processes are silently active long before their energy is nianifested. The fresh feelings now receive impressions and impulses which go forward into T 274 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. manhood, which derives its character from the training of the child. I do not propose to intermeddle with the administration of family life ; but I notice it as one of those agencies which consecrate the loveliest forms of life to its noblest purposes. It gives the key-note to life's general duties ; it inculcates order — cherishes affection — commends unity, and hallows peace. The cold analysis of a rational philosophy cannot fathom its mysteries ; it assures us that there are principles of power within us, slumbering in the deep recesses of the heart, which cannot be severed from our moral existence. And when boyhood brightens into man's estate, the deep springs of emotion supply an unexhausted flow of feelings which rank amongst the high mysteries of our being. The great and venerable institutions of society strike their roots into this region, and transmit influences which never can be subjected to the test of reason alone. And thus there is a secret of power not only in the individual, but in society itself ; it assumes the varied forms of prin- ciple, prejudice, and passion ; and one of the purest evi- dences of the pure religion which hallows the Christian name, will be found in its wonderful adaptation to man, in regulating every latent emotion which , experience can dis- cover or philosophy detect. I am anxious to impress upon you the perilous fallacy of summoning to the bar of reason, however impartially disposed, agencies that are mainly intended to act upon our affections. It is but another form of that fallacy which regards the culture of the mind as the education of the man, separating the light of intellect from the warmth of the heart. It is of much practical importance to keep this fact in remembrance, that man is not merely an intellectual being. It may satisfy you of the unreasonableness of expecting to convince by demonstration, however logical, where the truths involved cannot be withdrawn from the influences of feeling. And it may also teach you, that as the powers of ADDRESS TO DUBLIN ORATORICAL INSTITUTE. 275 reason are various, and the strength of emotion not less so, and the discipline , which matures, or the neglect that withers, forms another element of that variety of character which abounds in busy life — how practical is the duty of modest deference, and how sound is that spirit of modera- tion, which exhorts a meekness of wisdom, which is indeed pure, but also peaceable ! I have already observed, on the constant element of difficulty in discipline ; a moral attention to duty is con- stantly needed. It is the slumbering indolence which mis- spends the period of active life, that brings down angry messengers to rouse us into energy and action. These, like the storms in nature, which correct and purify stagna- tion, are not merely necessary, but merciful. It is not your proper destiny, however, to lounge or dream away life's precious hours, but to engage in its busy bustling realities with manly vigour. But do not persuade yourselves that its difficulties are few, or its temptations easily encountered, nor that you may not require the aid of every weapon with which truth can combat error. It is not merely in the course of outward duties that these trials arise. The difficulties of opinion are not inferior to those of conduct. The sophistries, the delusions, the disturbing temptations, which at the outset may assail you, require a shield which no human hand can thoroughly fashion. How many a chivalrous youth would brave the terrors of the battle-field, and yet cower before the sneer of scorn or the scoff of sensuality ! In reference to opinions on many subjects of general interest, it is of great consequence you should not entangle yourselves in any way, by which you might be embarrassed in adopting sound conclusions. But it might be well to remind you in this restless age, that there are standard truths which cannot be discarded without peril and without presumption. Like the silent stars, which exert their central influences, and preserve the harmonies of systems ; where every new discovery confirms the reality of the 276 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. science which reposes on the fixed laws of nature. Hold first principles in reverence ; and rather believe they are sometimes disturbed by other influences than doubt their unchanging verity. Cultivate a spirit of moderation — gentleness, and fair- ness of mind. It is in this wisdom, that neither slumbers in stagnant indolence, nor runs in reckless haste — neither worships an idol nor forgets a prayer — in this spirit of goodness that you will be the most likely to adopt the safest conclusions for the general conduct of life. I had observed on the influence of conduct on character, by which feelings carried out in duties, and ripened into habits, are permanently incorporated into our moral nature. Affections which loathe the plainness of duty lose their power, and enfeeble the system they were intended to in- vigorate. What encouragement, yet what responsibility ! How carefully should every step be taken, especially on the very verge of manhood's duties. I cannot disclose to you with what feelings I contemplate your future progress in life. This is not a mere casual meeting : you have presented many hearts to receive impressions which may yet be hallowed. The very position in which you have placed me re- minds me that its influence may give power to what other- wise might be unheeded. The season, too, invests all our feelings with its peculiar influences. We have (as the year now past closed upon us once and for ever) sat under that serene loveliness of Christian associations that casts a soft splendour over every nobler emotion of the soul. Every lurking sympathy, every dormant affection, has exhibited the energy of life ; and now, as another year opens upon us, and hope has brightened with its cheering rays thoughts and memories which were not cloudless, could there be a time more suited for profitable meditations to send us on our way rejoicing ? And yet we have many monitors that make us sorrowful. The mother of Augustine, in the days ADDRESS TO DUBLIN ORATORICAL INSTITUTE. 277 of his youthful folly, poured forth to the venerable Ambrose, in the multitude of maternal tears, her anguish for her child. " Courage, daughter" (said the venerable prelate), " the child of such pious tears will not be left to perish." Oh ! thus may it be with the loved land of Burke and Ussher that has given to the world the early lights of a pure Christianity, and in later times the bravest and the wisest of the living and the dead ; and if the tear of sorrow and the pious prayer shall bring down blessing and guid- ance from above, be yours the ambition by preparation for duty now, to be subjects of that heavenly guidance, and channels of that divine blessing. ADDRESS Delivered before the College Historical Society, November 2^th, i8ss- Gentlemen of the Historical Society, At this the first public meeting of the Society which has been held since you have chosen me to fill the office of President, I desire to acknowledge in this Hall and from this Chair, how much I value the honour which has been thus generously conferred upon me. And it seems to me to be a duty which I owe to you, to record here, with such authority as may properly belong to my office, the views which I advisedly take of the position of this Society in the system of the University, and its claims to the con- fidence of all who would encourage enlightened progress. To be connected with a Society ennobled by such great traditions, and upon which the lights of other days have shed such lustre, nay, such splendour — to attend in this Hall, where, year after year, we are instructed by the elo- quence, the research, and, I will add, the genuine good sense displayed in the Addresses which the Auditors have delivered, and which have been so well sustained to-night by the graceful, and modest, and admirable Address of my young friend Mr. Pigot — to mingle here with ingenuous and cultivated minds, for moral and intellectual improve- ment, to which the choice offerings of history and literature so richly contribute — this is, indeed, a privilege not to be lightly esteemed. But, Gentlemen, to preside over such a Society, is not merely a privilege ; it is an honourable and ADDRESS TO COLLEGE HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 279 responsible office. I feel it to be both. I feel it the more especially at this time, when peculiar circumstances call upon us to reconsider the uses to which this Society may be made subservient, and the proper place in our Univer- sity education which it is fitted to occupy. It is not a supplemental part, it is integral ; and this Society must not be treated as an unwelcome intruder, only to be en- dured, but it is to be regarded as an established Institute, which has a lawful claim to be generously encouraged ; and on its behalf I will add, that it is bound, by its im- proved efficiency, to give completeness to a liberal Univer- sity education. I do not purpose to revive the stale dis- . cussion of the abuses to which such a Society may afford occasion : corruptio optimi pessima. I would merely re- mark, that the argument which might go to suppress liberty, because it may lead to licentiousness, is assuredly not sound, and cannot be allowed. What are the uses, what are the capabilities of this Society, and how may these be turned to the best account ? It is to be judged, according to the practical wisdom of Bishop Butler, not by its perversions, but by its genuine tendencies. Its illustrious founders (and, I may say, in passing, "there were giants in those days"), its splendid traditions, testify on its behalf that it is worthy of a promi- nent place in the system of the University. To study the philosophy of history, to cultivate English literature, to acquire facility of clear and elegant expression, and encou- rage accuracy of thought by the practice of composition, conference, and debate — to accumulate useful knowledge with genial confidence, and mature opinion by an inter- course generous and manly, calculated to cherish indepen- dence of spirit, with a temper of forbearance, moderation, and good-will — these are the objects which have been bequeathed to us as a precious legacy for our present benefit, and which we are to transmit without damage or diminution to those who may succeed us. In the admirable and judicious remarks of Professor 28o LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Dugald Stewart on the true character of education, he embodies the celebrated passage from Milton, in which it is said, " that education only can be considered as complete and generous which fits a man to perform justly, skilfully, and magnanimously, all the offices, both private and public, of peace and war." The crisis of war has called for a revision of our system, or at least of our curriculum of education. Defects and omissions have been detected, and we have at once acknowledged that the remedy should be prompt, liberal, and efficient. But in this there is a temp- tation against which we ought to be upon our guard. The settled course of education is not to be rashly modified, merely to meet a pressure under which there may be a disposition to sacrifice sound and solid training in our time- honoured University, to a superficial rivalry with other Institutions, which work at the mint rather than in the mine, and are content to issue an available currency, though it may not be the sterling standard coin. Nee temere nee timide, is the rule' by which we must be guided. In the exact sciences — in the studies of our admirable Engineer- ing School, which has been worked with such great ability and such untiring zeal by the learned and respected Professors under whose care it has acquired a reputation so well deserved-:— in these we have sustained the character of the University with credit and honour. In classical literature, in history and composition, in the very branches of knowledge which strike, as it were, their second roots into the soil of this Society — we have not been equally successful. This bears practically upon our present po- sition and duties, and has mainly influenced me to bring under your deliberate attention, the capabilities of this Society, and the share which we might properly take in giving effect to such reforms as may not merely secure a supply of students generously and completely educated,, but impart to the great subject of education a life, a spirit, and an interest, which may realize valuable results for our- selves and for our country. ADDRESS TO COLLEGE HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 28 1 The policy of advancing merit by public patronage has been, at least in one department, inaugurated. The edu- cational influences of such a policy, faithfully carried out, must soon tell upon the community. It may be more than doubtful, indeed, whether a single examination, with so much hap-hazard in it, can satisfactorily test the real merit of candidates, whilst it may encourage a system of cramming with a view to conjectural success ; but in the end, I am confident that the education which is most com- plete and generous will be the most successful ; and I trust that no consideration of passing popularity — no temptation of temporary success, will induce our University to give way to a temper of restless change, or seek a substitute, to displace the sound training and the valuable discipline of exact science and standard classics. "Raw haste, half- sister to delay," must find no altar within these walls. Let us consider, for a moment, the comprehensive character of education, and the part allotted for our peculiar labour. There are great fixed laws of moral government and social economy with which we should be made acquainted, so that we may bring our life into harmony with principles which regulate individual duty and promote the common weal. We begin with language. The study of words is the fit preparation for the study of things. The study of elegant words, in classic authors, cultivates the taste, gives exact- ness to thought, and grace to expression. The certainties of Arithmetic and Geometry, and the exercises of Logic, train and mature the reasoning faculty. The quality of preparatory instruction may be largely influenced by the sanction or preference supposed to be given here to par- ticular courses or books, whilst, on the other hand, the real value of a University education may largely depend on the previous training of the home and the school. Juncta juvant. The student enters the University when he is supposed to be capable of self-control, and in a condition to avail himself of a course of liberal study. He has arrived at a 282 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Stage of life rich in peculiar advantages. With energy and spirit, he exults in the conscious growth of knowledge ; in lively sympathy with the generous actions recorded in history, and with the high passion of poetry, he is rich in the possession of time and the accompanying conscious- ness of freedom and power. Such in substance is the sug- gestion of the philosophic Wordsworth in his admirable letter under the signatnre of " Mathetes," published by Coleridge, in the third volume of " The Friend," which ought to be a study for your most thoughtful hours. Here, then, we have the student beginning to master knowledge, which, by the activity of his mind, he gradually appro- priates. Just at the right season, the Historical Society invites him into its ranks. Has he entered upon the study of history ? Has he considered its deep philosophy ? Has he yet come in contact with the comprehensive reflections of Niebuhr, or the more simple but not less instructive lessons to be found in the lectures of the good and gentle Arnold ? These, and others of this great School, are to be studied where no undue pressure may restrain the flow of youthful feeling, which ought never to be repulsed or chilled. Here you bring your deductions to the test of open discussion, where they are canvassed with the rigour, but without the asperity, of controversy, where you find a sympathy which converts opponents into assessors. The interference of coercive authority might so restrict the freedom of debate as to discourage the growth of generous opinion ; and those great movements which indicate the course of human progress, might not be presented or viewed in that bold and grand outline which constitutes their genuine value for the instruction of the student. But whilst I thus assert its importance, and claim for you as a right, an exemption from any inter- ference with your own proceedings, it may be seasonable to remind you that your efforts in this Society, if only desultory or capricious, or without adequate and careful preparation, cannot be expected to realize for you any ADDRESS TO COLLEGE HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 283 solid benefit. If either your proper attention to the strict course of the University be distracted or diverted by any attractions which may here entice you, or if your attend- ance degenerate into a lounge, to satisfy the cravings of indolence or repair exhaustion, I have not a word of en- courageriient to offer ; such waste of opportunity is only to be deplored and denounced. But to the earnest, reso- lute students who look forward to a life of honourable and successful industry — to you I say — search history to be instructed, exercise yourselves much — very much — in com- position and criticism ; study poetry and oratory to acquire elegance of expression, refinement of feeling, elevation of thought, and sober self-possession ; economize and redeem time, gather up its scraps and fragments, so that nothing be lost ; adjust the periods of your graver and lighter studies, and always remember how respon- sible a work you have to accomplish honourably in your University career. The ancient and modern classics must constitute a very important part of a complete education, and the system in which they are depreciated must be unsound and imperfect. In this practical age there is a very dangerous tendency to idolize what is at once marketable, and therfore taken to be more peculiarly use- ful, and this may much disparage studies which exercise a most powerful though indirect influence upon the train- ing of the student. The elegance and refinement of poetry may thus be despised unduly and unwisely. The genuine poet, like the true orator, appeals to the deep feelings and universal sympathies of mankind. He binds together by passion and knowledge the vast empire of human society as it is spread over the whole earth and over all time ; he lives in the contemplation of the true, the beautiful, and the good, by which he divests life of its material • grossness. Who can rise from the sweet and simple verse of our own artless Goldsmith, without feeling in his soul the gentle benevolence and tender simplicity which breathe through every line ? Who has ever studied 284 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. without profitable delight, the thoughtful melody of Wordsworth, revealing the profound harmonies of nature, man, and heaven — the links of good by which all human things are connected — the sublimities which belong to life in its origin and its destiny ? Who does not hail with gladness the deep flow of thought and feeling which has so purified our modern literature, given to the material universe a speech and a language before unheard, and bound up an exquisite, nay, a Divine philosophy, with all that is pure in thought, elevated in sentiment, deep in feeling, and graceful in expression ? What mild wisdom is to be found in the soft words of Tennyson — " Beauty, Good, and Knowledge, are three sisters, That doat upon each other, friends to man, Living together, under the same roof, And never can be sundered without tears." Gentlemen, believe me, your education cannot be com- plete or generous if the events of history be not studied in the spirit of enlightened philosophy, or the great ap- peals of the poet and the orator to the sympathies and feelings of man, be not apprehended in the spirit in which they have been conceived. History is not an old altnanac, poetry is neither rhyme nor metre, oratory is not mere fluency of speech, classical study is not the vulgar cram- ming that sometimes chokes, but never fattens, its victim. Have I not said enough to awaken a laudable ambition in you to make this Society worthy of these attractive subjects of study ? I might appeal directly to its spirit- stirring traditions ; they live in the hearts, they are treasured in the memories of some of our Vice-Presidents, who stand, as it were, between the living and the dead. The Angel of Death, within a recent period, has swept away one illustrious name from the list of our officers — I mean William Conyngham, the late Lord Plunket. He was trained in this Society. Here he learned, for here he practised, the severest discipline of preparation ; here ADDRESS TO COLLEGE HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 285 his vigorous and manly mind was laboriously exercised ; here he cultivated that noble eloquence which combined the symmetry and the grace of the statue, with the strength and the solidity of the quarry ; and he has left on record the instructive testimony, that he never succeeded in pro- ducing a great impression, without the most careful and elaborate preparation — a lesson which he had learned within these walls. When but a stripling he began the battle of life, which he fought so triumphantly. " Nitor in adversum, nee me qui csetera vincit Impetus." And when I allude to his habitual preparation, I find, that it was not the manufacture of fine sentences, nor mere flights of fancy. His was the preparation of thought, conference, reading, reasoning, and illustration. He con- sidered the many-sidedness of the subject, and seized vigorously on the most striking propositions which it in- volved. He discussed its niceties and its difficulties with intelligent and sagacious friends, until he was thoroughly penetrated by the mature convictions which he thus brought regularly to the birth ; and then, with the aid of his early and continued study of standard authors, and his eminent skill as a logician, his style was at once simple, nervous, and classical, with that unpretending plainness which is so essential to the excellence of an orator, and that felicity of illustration and command of imagery which were so sparingly but so successfully em- ployed to give to massive strength both force and beauty. I have, perhaps, taken up too much of your time with topics which are somewhat trite ; and yet it was a wise saying of the late Dean Sydney Smith, that we do not so much require to be taught new truths, as to be reminded of those which it is our wisdom to remember, but our weak- ness to forget. This, I would observe, that there never was a time when the students of the University had such extended opportunities for cultivating knowledge. I may 286 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. particularly notice the removal of the department of English Literature from the lumber-room of the College, and its formal admission into the course of the University; the provision made for the class of Political Economy, and the better encouragement which is offered to Classical studies ; the School of Oratory settled under the conscien- tious care of our accomplished Professor, whose sympathy has been manifested by his habitual attendance at our public proceedings. These all combine to encourage the diligent student to avail himself in due course of such advantages, so valuable for the purposes of his future suc- cess in life. For any of the learned professions, the best preparation is the discipline and cultivation of an enlight- ened University education ; and this must at least include an intelligent study of history and classical literature. But there is more to be considered in education than mere scholarship. We may meet with men who are honourable and influential, but somehow they seem to despise the great laws of human association, with which they have never perhaps been acquainted, and they are insensible to many influences by which life is penetrated. Now I am most sincerely anxious that the formation of sound and generous sentiment should not be disregarded in the con- sideration of our educational duties. I speak not of senti- mentality, which buries every virtuous emotion in the Ian:- guage of extravagance ; but I advert to that enlightened, elevated feeling which springs from the thoughtful study of the moral and social relations of man, and the sympathies which belong to the high mysteries of his being. The mere man of science, the secular or scholastic pedant, the cold and heartless economist, the fluent linguist, have no more right to appropriate the title of an educated man than the snow which glistens on the lofty Alp, or the glacier descending into the valley, to be confounded with the flowing river or the swelling ocean. I want for you com- plete and generous education — education which trains the faculties, expands the affections, and cultivates the finer ADDRESS TO COLLEGE HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 287 feelings of ingenuous youth. Never was it more needed than now. We cannot fail to observe that modern science tends to the development of individual liberty, and teaches that men should, as far as possible, be left to follow their own interests. It is the more important that when you go out upon real life, your views of duty should be sound and elevated, well prepared to give effect to such policy and such principles as may most permanently secure the well- being of the community. I am now looking above and beyond the uses of the Society as a mere place of prepara- tion for professional success. For this, I think, it may be used most legitimately and profitably ; but I also affirm there is in its very system of self-culture within the Univer- sity, another excellence, special and peculiar. For this I can find no substitute in any other department ; and the testimony of experience on this point is too powerful to be resisted. But, Gentlemen, let it indeed be genuine self- culture — the culture of conscientious students, not willing to drift, but resolved to steer, and so to use every profitable occasion for its proper purpose : — " No desponding, no repining, ■ Leisure must by toil be bought : Never yet was good accomplished Without hand and thought." I will not further expatiate on the value or manner of preparation for your debates. It will be to me a source of pleasure to communicate freely with you, collectively or in- dividually, on whatever concerns your success, and to con- fer with those in the University who may be willing to help forward your future proceedings in the way most likely to be useful. I am resolved that no available means shall be overlooked which may enable us to sustain the character of the Society and the credit of the University. There is one aspect of our proceedings which I delight to contem- plate, and I may, m concluding, direct your attention to it. We meet together in that spirit of kindly intercourse, which neither requires the compromise of one sincere conviction. 288 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. nor sanctions the intrusion of one uncharitable feeling. To cultivate such a spirit is an element of Christian life. It has been beautifully said by one not more eloquent than wise, that charity must in its comprehensiveness embrace everything human, must shed its light upon the just and the unjust, detect the soul of good in things evil, steal rigidity from virtue, and bring into gentle relief those truths which are of aspect the most benign, and those suggestions and hopes for the erring, which are most full of consolation. How often do we find in the collisions of life, distortion and suspicion, where much has been misconceived, much that is redeeming, overlooked ; and our only security is to be found in the culture of that divine charity which " thinketh no evil," and without which, even the eloquence of angels is but " a tinkling cymbal." In this spirit, in which we are now assembled, let me add — " It is good for us to be here." We call no man master ; we set not up a tabernacle for leader, sect, or party ; we stand here in the presence of truth, before its pure ray is dimmed or dis- persed by the lower clouds of prejudice or passion. For myself, I am touchingly reminded of other days and happy hours which I have spent within the walls of this our Alma Mater. It is a feeling deeper than delight, and nobler than pride, which at this moment fills my heart, when I look upon the members of the College Historical Society, from this Chair, to which their choice has elevated me. I am here simply as one of ypurselves — " Commilitone me utemini." ' ' For the last secret that we learn is this, That being is a circle after aU, And the last line we draw in after life Rejoins the arc of childhood when complete ; That to be more than man is to be less." LABOUR AND KNOWLEDGE. \Lecture delivered at the Mechanics' Institute, Keswick, 18^6.'] ON the present occasion, I must be content to remind yoii of old truths, which I have the satisfaction to believe are not new acquaintances : for it is safer, if not wiser, t6 learn thoroughly the lessons of standard truth, rather than to grope about for some new path of progress, whilst known paths are neglected. We meet to-night not to lounge away a listless or leisure hour in mere unprofitable amusement, but as thoughtful and intelligent citizens of a great com- munity, to consider the condition and cheer the hearts of that section of our people which is exclusively, but per- haps somewhat inaccurately, designated by the title of the working-class; for this would seem to imply that they, and they only, were habitually occupied in active duties. It is encouraging to find that a Conference is taking place about this time at Brussels, to consider, amongst other things, the improvenient of the condition of this working-class. May He, without whom nothing is strong and nothing holy, now direct our minds and hearts, and give us a spirit of pure and peaceable wisdom', whilst dealing with a subject which has become so deeply interesting, vitally connected as it is with the future of England. Those who are commonly called the working-classes — what and who are they, and whence come they? They are our fellow-creatures — our fellow-citizens — increasing u 290 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. and multiplying around us. Can we look upon these millions without being stirred in our inmost souls — with- out a throbbing impulse, to do them good as far as in our power ? It is recorded of Xerxes, the Persian monarch, when he surveyed his mighty army collected together in its ex- tended encampment, the thought that in less than one hundred years not one of them should be left — that all should have passed away — this so overpowered him, that he burst into a flood of tears. This gush of emotion came from those depths of human sympathy which are very mysteries of our being. He felt as a man. Our great poet (a high priest of nature) has said — " What a piece of work is man 1 How noble in reason, how infinite in faculties !" Another of our poets has said of man — " As more than any thing we know, Instinct with Godhead, and by reason and by will Acknowledging dependency sublime. " How, then, shall we, in a great Christian community—^ how shall we regard the working-classes ? As men or as animals — as things or as persons ? Are they to be isolated as beings doomed to a life of toil and hopeless ignorance ? Is labour to be the special burthen of some, and idleness the proper business of others ? Or, on the other hand, is activity and is diligerjce in the various departments of labour, under its many aspects — is this a law binding on all classes of society ? Are all equally entitled to a Sabbath rest, and reasonable recreation ? Should all be invited to partake of the benefits of knowledge, which is increased daily — should these be as freely shared as the greater blessings of revealed religion ? This is assuredly the gracious plan and undoubted purpose of Him who has not left Himself without a witness — He who has made and perpetuated the Sabbath for man — He has commanded. His Gospel of free salvation to be proclaimed to every nation, ay, to every creature. He deals with man without LABOUR AND KNOWLEDGE. 29 1 respect of persons — with man as an immortal spirit, placed under a law of discipline in a life of duty. He has or- .dained human life as an institution for eternity. A life of manual labour, however humble be the workman, is still the life of an immortal and accountable being — one whose mind and spirit are to be taught and trained for inter- course with heaven. Whether we look to the working-classes in their higher or humbler relations, we must regard them in a moral, not less than a social aspect. Now, it is a vital truth that there are laws stereotyped in the moral government of the world, by which the course of the life of man, with its lights and shadows, its seasons of progress or decline, is divinely re- gulated ; and it is our wisdom to search for these laws, as it is our duty and our interest to conform to their require- ments, by which prosperity is generally to be secured. There are other laws by which nature is governed, which palpably operate on the social condition of the human family. These also are constant, and discoverable, so far as they are discernible, by observation and comparison of phenomena extending far and wide. The study of these belongs to what is called economic science, and takes its proper place, not in the centre, but in the circumference of the circle of knowledge. The law of labour connects itself both with the moral and the social departments ; and on our observance of this law, in connection with both, moral progress and material prosperity are in a great degree dependent. This is a truth, as I have suggested, of vital import. To give to the working-classes a settled habit qf thoughtful reflection ; to preserve a well-regulated appetite for wholesome knowledge — a spirit of contentment comr bined with providence and self-respect, with a hopeful desire of gradually rising to a higher platform in society, by the self-elevating agency of industry, intelligence, and virtue ; — this is a work well worthy of the purest philan- thropy, but a work not to be accomplished otherwise than by patient diligence and prayerful perseverance. The soil 292 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. must be carefully prepared, the seed skilfully sown, weeds unsparingly removed ; genial influences from above must descend, to give life and energy to agencies from beneath ; the seasons of slow growth must precede the coming forth of the blade, then of the ear,' then of the full corn in the ear ; — all to be crowned by the ripe harvest. We are not allowed, in any department of the Divine economy, to sow with the one hand and reap with the other. The formation of Associations such as this (and I am happy to find them so general) has grown out of a con- viction, felt by many who are hard worked, that it would be a refreshing privilege to enjoy an occasional hour of leisure in gaining useful information, cultivating their minds, and thus intelligently improving their general cha- racter and condition. Such a movement claims a generous and encouraging response from all who wish well to our working-classes, for it may be guided for good to all classes of society. The workman is greater than his work, mind is nobler than matter, science and skill are superior to bodily toil. The faculties which God has given to man to be trained by the discipline of daily life, under an economy of Divine wisdom and goodness, cannot be left uncultivated without incurring the penalties which the unchangeable laws by which the world is governed have righteously imposed. The responsible cultivation of these faculties thus comes before us with all the claims of a sacred duty — a duty tp be performed not merely notwithstanding, but the rather because of the requirements of our holy, our glorious Chris- tianity. For it has been well and truly observed by a great authority, that it would be unworthy of revealed truth to suppose that there could be an opposition between the fullest development of these faculties, distinctively conr ferred on man, and that religion, which is designed to train these faculties to their highest ends. The Christian faith, as Coleridge justly observes, is the very perfection of hu- man intelligence ; it is adapted to every stage of human LABOUR AND KNOWLEDGE. 293 progress. And this we might well expect ; for no system could be true which opposes, none false which promotes, the movement of our moral being towards the highest perfection of which it is capable. It is, indeed, disheartening to find that the general pur- suit of knowledge is sometimes denounced by men whom we desire to respect ; but they speak of it as if it were not merely delusive, but as something sinful and forbidden — as if it only ministered to human presumption, or fostered a spirit of unbelief, and fed the passion which eventuated in the sin of our first parents. The profoundest of philoso- phers. Lord Bacon, has well and wisely explained the true nature of this sin : it was the attempt made, in the spirit of disobedience and ungodliness, to discover the sources of good and evil in separation froin, and independent of, the will of the Creator. The same great authority has told us that "knowledge is power;" and inspired wisdom also as- sures us, " that if the soul be without knowledge, it is not good." " Add to your faith virtue, and to virtue know- ledge." In a frequent recommendation of knowledge, and a spirit of searching but sober inquiry after truth for its own sake, the Holy Scriptures are distinct and decisive. Nothing is found to be so presumptuous as ignorance ; no- thing so congenial to that debasing indolence which is the very hot-bed of crime and sin ; nothing is more essentially 'hostile to all improvement. Labour is first to be regarded a.s a primeval law imposed upon man after the fall ; and in so regarding it, we will find that the attainment of know- ledge is a common, because a consequent, duty. Both are connected with the gracious purposes of Him who made man in His own image. Experience tells us of the weary and exhausted spirit under the weight of wasting indo- lence — the credulity and corruption which are the spawn of ignorance. The frequent refuge of the idle and the uninstructed, in frivolity, mischief, and crime, demonstrates the fixed and essential opposition of sloth and ignorance to the well-being-or the progress of man. 294 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. By the law of labour it may have been intended that man might, in some degree, be enabled to re-conquer a lost dominion over the material world, and also to disci- pline his immortal spirit for a higher and nobler sphere of active being hereafter. Now, observe, that I do not here speak of labour in any one department. This is a common error so to isolate it. The merchant is not less a labourer than a mechanic, nor the professional man than the mer- chant. The purest occupation of the Christian life is de- scribed by the inspired Apostle as " the work of faith and labour of love." Labour is thus associated with Divine charity, and charity never faileth — ^^a union which ought always to be preserved indissoluble. The action of knowledge on labour, and the importance of connecting these together, have, in our own day, been happily exhibited, and I would invite your attention to a few striking illustrations. The average produce of wheat by the acre has been about twenty-four imperial bushels ; this has been increased nearly four-fold. The produce of oats has been trebled, potatoes five-fold, turnips nearly six-fold. All this has been brought about by the discoveries of science, skilfully applied in the improvement of agricultural industry. Chemistry has disclosed to us, for instance, that wheat is composed of elements principally obtained from the atmo- sphere, and from the dews and the rains which seasonably descend upon our earth. Of 1,640 lbs. produced by an acre of wheat, upwards of 1,500 are derived from these common natural sources ; eighty-nine out of every hundred from the air alone. The soil simply acts as the receiver and storehouse of supplies taken from the elements, and given out, as occasion requires, to the growing plant. The preparation of the soil for thus receiving and distri- buting the bounty of Providence is, therefore, a principal object of intelligent labour, and, in truth, constitutes " the tillage of the land," which the Divine Word faithfully assures us " will satisfy with bread." Wheat is composed LABOUR AND KNOWLEDGE. 295 of oxygen and carbon in nearly equal quantities, which constitute about nine-tenths of the whole. It also consists of hydrogen, nitrogen, and inorganic matter. These ele- ments are found in charcoal, air, and water. Water supplies oxygen and hydrogen, air supplies nitrogen, which is ab- sorbed from it by the soil, and when combined with hydrogen, forms ammonia, which is so valuable in manure ; for the application of manure which yields ammonia enables the plant to take in a much greater quantity from the air, than it could do without this artificial stimulus. Again, it is found that porous bodies, such as charcoal and cellular earth, attract and contain gaseous matter many times their own size. Charcoal will retain ninety tirnes its own size of ammonia ; so that the seasonable supplies of vegetation may be stored in the soil, and by the action of heat and moisture, gradually given out to the plant. In the profitable use of manures, the aid of science is absolutely indispensable. The part of manure which is most valuable is what is soluble in water, and what may be evaporated by heat : a significant hint to those who collect the heap within view of the cottage, and expose it to the action of the sun and rain, in the dunghill or the cess-pool^ polluting the pure air, and wasting the useful portion of the manure itself by what really and truly turns out to be the extravagant folly of indolent and uninstructed improvi- dence. Ignorance may thus waste in abridging health and comfort, what cheap and common knowledge would require to be used for the increased production of wholesome food ; a striking illustration of the harmony which subsists in the ■laws by which industry is governed, in its application to the common purposes of life, and the laws which regulate the comforts, the decencies, and the duties of the humblest rank of society ; all are, in fact, most graciously bound up together. The careful pulverizing of the soil, to make and keep it porous and cellular ; the regular removal of weeds, which would steal the supplies that are the lawful property 296 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. of the growing grain or vegetable ; the seasonable applica- tion of manures at the proper stages of growth, and accord- ing to the exigencies of the soil ; — these are but samples' of the many channels into which knowledge is the profi- table conductor of labour, and from which ignorance is' content to be excluded. • The process of draining, by which a change of tempera- ture equal to a month of summer may be produced, has been but recently made available to any great extent. In truth, the good providence of God has bestowed most bountifully an abundant supply of wholesome- food, in- tended to be made available for our use by knowledge and labour. Labour, so needed for man's discipline ; know- ledge, so capable of promoting man's happiness ; each and both prefer their claims upon us, and promise us an abun- dant recompense. Then, is it reasonable, is it common sense, to suppose that we can reject such claims, and at the same time escape the penalties which are so justly — ■ nay so mercifully — annexed to the neglect of agencies thus accredited, and which the fixed laws of Divine wisdom have appointed as the proper means by which prosperity and progress, in departments which are so important to common life, are to be advanced ? • It is with great satisfaction that I read that, at the recent meeting of the British Association which has been held at Cheltenham, the President refers to the results arising from the remarkable progress and extension of chemical science, which has taken place within the last twenty years. This had been much caused by the method of analysis which Liebig (the greatest of modern chemists) lias taught, and which has led to a general facility in ob- taining results on which calculations might be based. The ■conclusion seems to be now accredited, that plants rooted in a soil well charged with all the requisite mineral ingrcr dients, and in all other respects in a condition calculated .to allow of healthy vegetation, may, sooner or later, be able to draw from the atmosphere whatever else may be LABOUR AND KNOWLEDGE. :297 required for their full development. This important result has been further confirmed in Northamptonshire, where, by the careful pulverizing and stirring of the soil, after it has been brought into a proper condition, the most luxu- riant wheat crops have been obtained for several consecur live years, without the further application of manures. : In the recuperative powers of the soil, the auxiliary resources of science, the increase of consumption, and the convenience of the markets, what favourable prospects have been opened for the intelligent and industrious farmers, ready and resolved to avail themselves of their many privileges in this highly-favoured country ! May they under the law of labour and knowledge, become prosperous ■and happy. Let us now turn from the country into the town — from agriculture to manufactures — from the sources of supply by "which our food is obtained, to the agencies which minister to other demands, and meet the multiplied desires of man. Here we are ' encountered by difficult and complex social questions, which we are bound, however, to examine, and to endeavour to solve them without evasion. The power of steam and the use of machinery have placed us in a new era of civil society. " An inventive age Has wrought, if not with speed of magic, yet To most strange issues. I have lived to mark A new and unforeseen creation rise From out the labours of a peaceful land, Wielding her potent enginery to frame And to produce, with appetite as keen ' As that of war, which rests not night or day, Industrious to destroy ." The power which is latent in one bushel of coals is sup- posed to be equal to a day's work of one hundred stage- coach horses. The wonderful pyramid of Egypt, which is said to have employed 100,000 labourers for upwards of 298 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. twenty years, might have had all its materials lifted into their final position by the agency of 480 tons of coal. The special and providential agency by which the materials of an earlier epoch in creation have been at last condensed into the intense energy which the bituminous substance in coal possesses, prepared, as it would seem, for the period of a great development of man, in intercourse and action — this must fill the mind of the thoughtful with wonder, and the heart of the thankful with gratitude to Him " in whom we live, and move, and have our being." This mighty power, available now in so many depart- ments of progress, is only exceeded in its results by the still more wonderful discovery of electric communication. This mysterious messenger can encircle the earth in one- eighth of a second : 19,500 words can be transmitted and written out at the distance of more than 1,000 miles, and in less than one hour. Electricity also has its share in the triumphs of manufacturing skill. In works of ornament and design, skill and science seem prepared, if not in some degree to supersede physical effort, at least to put it under a new economy. This must call forth the more diligent and general culture of the higJter faculties. Mind thus acquiring ascendancy, demands a corresponding moral supremacy, which Chris- tian civilization must gradually bring into the active service of daily life. The Shifting wind, the sudden storm, and the frequent and capricious calm, contracted commerce, further retarded by the sluggish and reluctant intercourse of nation with nation. This fettered the merchant, and often discouraged and obstructed the missionary ; but now the agencies of steam and electricity — the one with a cer- tainty almost moral, the other with the speed of an angel's wing — these seem to prepare mankind for the day in which the laws of Divine Wisdom shall be put in human minds and written in human hearts — subduing selfishness, super- seding fitful impulse, and hastening on the times of the restitution of all things — the consummation of the great and gracious promises of that economy which, in whatever LABOUR AND KNOWLEDGE. 299 form it may be hereafter manifested, we are at least assured that it must establish, at last, the kingdom of the Redeemer. The action of knowledge on labour has a different aspect in reference to manufactures from what it has in the department of agriculture. In the latter, the great agencies which are made available for increasing production, are rather furnished by the bounty of God, than fashioned by the skill of man. The farmer is rather called on to apply than to invent what may render his daily labour more pro- ductive. There is a limit to agricultural production in the very nature of fixed property in land which is not to be found in the inexhaustible variety of manufacture, in which, moreover, from the rivalry and competition of capital and commerce, man has sought out many inventions ; and this has caused a most remarkable change in the character of an extensive and increasing section of our people. Large masses are now brought together in towns, and absorbed in the growing demands of a life of very peculiar and very exacting toil. Now, assuredly, there must be a momen- tous difference between the human agent and the material ' mechanism, which at present seem to divide between them the extended operations which produce clothing, and various matters of comfort and luxury, for so many millions of the human family. This mechanism is truly wonderful ; the manufacture, beauteous often, as if creative power had fashioned it — deli- cate in the design and graceful in the finish. I can admire this triurhph of skill and industry; but the reflection haunts me— it cannot be shut out— what is the price which hu- manity pays before the manufacture is made up for the purchaser ? It may be that with the extended prosperity of our various manufactures is bound up, more or less, the na- tional welfare ; but of this I am satisfied, that the moral and social well-being of the manufacturing population is a far higher aim, and a far nobler object, to which other considerations are but secondary, whether we consider our individual or our national destiny. 300 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. It is not many years ago since a publication, which obtained a public premium as the prize essay on juvenile depravity, brought under my notice the state of the manu- ;facturing districts. From this it appears that the improve- ments in machinery, and the application of new powers in .production, had subjected to exhausting toil the young and the tender ; had sometimes emptied the school, broken up the home, and dried up the sources and springs of moral, and therefore of social, progress. Just look at the account ,of the working-classes — upwards of £^ofxx>,ooo are stated to be consumed yearly in intoxicating liquors — a sum which amounts to nearly the most prosperous half year of the exports of production and manufactures from the United Kingdom, and falls little short of an entire year of these exports at the time when the prize essay was written. :More than 28,000,000 of demoralizing publications were then annually circulated amongst these classes ; the little children, proper and peculiar objects of tender care at home, and of the training of the parochial or district school, were too often prematurely doomed to pine under , the exhaustion of the mill ; others, just emerging from childhood, earning independent wages, live with their parent^ as lodgers, paying for themselves ; thus violating the sanctities of family life — whilst debasing, sensual indul- gence is but too often the refuge from the fatigues which attend on the weary, wasting sacrifice, exacted by the spirit . of Mammon. ' ' Our life is turned Out of her course, wherever man is made An offering or a sacrifice, a tool Or implement ; a passive thing employed As a brute mean, without acknowledgment Of common right or interest in the end ; Used or abused as selfishness may prompt. Say what can follow for a rational soul Perverted thus, but weakness in all good, And strength in evil ? " Not for these sad issues Was man created ; but to obey the law Of life, and hope, and action." LABOUR AND KNOWLEDGE. 301 The scale of wages is found, to a certain extent, to in-" fluence the attendance at the schools, for this more or less interferes with the claims upon the labour of the children. And the extent of demoralization, and consequent statistics of crime, register the advances of that flowing and rising tide which threatens to inundate if timely and adequate remedies are not liberally provided. What are these reme- dies ? How are they to be supplied ? I have called your attention to unchangeable laws of moral government, and also to laws of economic science, which are fixed and con- stant, and under and in accordance with these, the intellectual; moral, and religious activity of an industrial community must keep pace with its material prosperity. Here is the key to the whole problem. We left the agriculturist with new duties rather than new difficulties ; we found him in the simplicity of peaceful life, and reminded him of the avail- able agency which moderate intelligence may render subservient to the increased supply of produce. We are prepared to condemn him if he should wilfully disregard the plainer injunctions of the great law of labour under the guidance of knowledge, and persevere in the old habits which ignorance may have nurtured, at the extravagant cost of diminished and unremunerative production. We have come to the manufacturer. The new spheirfe of duty here unfolded is not so much found in varying the details of that labour which science has so elaborately appropriated to every new post which it occupies, but em- phatically in the moral field, where the superiority of man over material mechanism is to be maintained, and never to be lost sight of ; and here are we required to save from a perilous exhaustion the very springs of moral existence, in one of the most important sections of our people. Here labour, in its higher, i.e., in its moral and religious depart-, ments, must imitate the improved action of mechanism in the lower. In its comprehensive equity, the law of labour calls for this great adjustment to be in readiness before invention and science can safely move onward, in demands 303 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. otherwise desolating, for they would spare neither age nor sex — they would, in fact, perpetuate the ceaseless and heartless toil which they should gradually soften, and in some degree at least help to supersede. The Education Report tells us of admirable schools and excellent teachers in one great and influential country; but by reason of the occasional interference of manufacturing prosperity, this admirable educational agency is sometimes) deprived of its proper influence, and a great opportunity, for the training of the young is thus thrown away. The very excellence of the schools, by giving peculiar facility for the speedy learning of simple and common acquire- ments, may be turned into a snare, in furnishing a pretext for prematurely removing the young pupil to the mill, where the lessons of the school are soon effaced, and the training of uninstructed toil, with all its moral or (as L should rather say) immoral accompaniments, soon mani^ fests its power — " And poverty and labour in excess From day to day preoccupy the ground Of the affections ; and to Nature's self ' Oppose a deeper nature." This must be set right, or we must take the inevitable consequences, which can only be averted by the frank and prompt recognition of the principles which I have been so anxious to put forward in plainness before you. Con- formity to the requirements of an enlightened system of labour as the law of human life, is a condition of individual and of national prosperity; and as this prosperity grows in material wealth, it demands the corresponding activity of the greater agencies by which man is, and by which alone he can be, trained for immortality. It is by the diligent use and application, not by the dis- covery, of improved machinery, that production is multi- plied ; it is by the like use of the well-conducted school, the decent home, and the consecrated temple of God, with LABOUR AND KNOWLEDGE. 303 its attendant privileges, under the influence of a well- regulated spirit of progress, and in faithful dependence upon the Divine blessing, that this higher department of labour can supply the demand so urgently made upon it by the rapid extension of commerce, and the overpowering success of manufacturing skill and enterprise. In such a period of prosperity — in this day of freedom, the earnest friends of truth and virtue must be up and doing ; their elevated department of labour must be open to the enlightened influence of spirited improvement. I rejoice to find that excellent examples have been set by many true Christian masters, who have satisfactorily solved the problem of manufacturing life, keeping it " in health and wealth " — and long may it so live ! — in accordance with -the highest sense of Christian duty; with the laws which connect therewith the greatest prosperity, securing the happiness of the operatives by the most suitable arrangements for promoting their religious, moral, intel- lectual, and social welfare. May God bless and prosper their righteous efforts ! We should encourage in every way this good example, so that it might soon cease to be exceptional. " With the sense of admiration blends The animating hope that time may come, When strengthened, yet not dazzled, by the might Of this dominion over nature gained ; Men of g.11 lands shall exercise the same In due proportion to their country's need, Learning, though late, that all true glory rests, All praisCj all safety, and all happiness. Upon the moral law." The modern dogma, that property has its duties as well as its rights, is not less obligatory upon the capitalist than upon the landlord. And let it be observed, that the trustee of the one talent was not released from the respon- sibility imposed upon the owner of the ten. Property, influence, opportunity — great or small, frequent or occa- 304 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. sional — each is but a trust for promoting the glory of God; and the good of man. To some extent, however little, we are all of us responsible. The arrangements of every parish should secure for the young, in the proper season for training them in the way in which they should go, a suitable and sufficient educa- tion, to which the decencies of home, the instruction and discipline of the school, and the ministrations of religion; should respectively contribute, and each be allowed its. proper time and season. We should circulate cheap and;' wholesome publications, and provide opportunity in various ways for the diffusion of useful knowledge, displacing the vile and vulgar productions of infidelity and lust. Recre- ation, cheerful and reasonable, occasionally permitted; a; genuine Sabbath-rest secured for all, in accordance with its high Scriptural sanction ; and a Saturday afternoon conceded, by which the great purpose of the Sabbatl^ might be more fully realized, as by the old Saxon law of Edgar, the Sabbath began at three o'clock on Saturday • this is the arrangement of a simple but Scriptural policy. ; The plan of early closing, now becoming so general^ gives some valuable leisure to our young men, which may be redeemed for purposes of mental and moral cultivation. Associations like this Institute, with its useful library, evening classes for instruction, occasional lectures, in which the living voice and power of sympathy feather the shafts of instructive and pleasing exposition ; if all this be accom- panied by the good example and generous encouragement and support of those who occupy the higher positions, or exercise local influence, what a goodly prospect opens out before us ! For on each and all of these agencies we can, in humility and hope, ask for the blessing of Him who has so wisely and so graciously placed the sources of prost perity in the fresh springs of duty. No legislative interference is here demanded ; and for my own part, I am more and more inclined to treat it in general as a trespasser; let us throw ourselves in full LABOUR AND KNOWLEDGE. 305. fidence upon the power of a pure and simple Christian poHcy. Christianity, in the fulness of its Divine resources, faithfully applied as the rule of common life, is alone suffi- cient to hold us up under the weight and pressure of accu- mulated prosperity. We must be strong within — sound, intelligent, and energetic ; and in every department and in every condition of life, avail ourselves of the great agencies which are worthy of a free people and a Christian nation — thus may we rejoice in truth and freedom. There is in nature a remarkable analogy by which we may be instructed — it is this : any interference or meddling with- out, generally interrupts the beautiful process of crystal- lization ; it is encouraged and continued to completion by energies and action from within, undisturbed from without. The strong current of opinion has set in with us in favour of removing hindrance and restriction, and giving increased facility to individual enterprise and action. Freedom, reli- gious and civil, is now a household word. A question of deep and solemn interest has sometimes been mooted as to the future destiny of England ; whether its great empire is to culminate, decline, and fall, or to advance in prosperity, and preserve its pre-eminence ? Historians and statesmen have glanced at this, but seldom touched it save with a trembling hand, and in a spirit of gloomy apprehension. Wherein is to be found the sure solution ? " The nation and kingdom which will not serve Thee shall perish," is the assurance of the inspired Prophet. Now I have endeavoured to show that the sources of in- dustrial prosperity are in the inexhaustible springs of duty ; and here we have our whole national destiny bound up with the faithful discharge of our individual duties as a Christian people. A profound writer, wise and philosophic, accustomed to observe human nature, and analyze national life, has recently published a disquisition on the great French Revolution, and has worked out the conclusion, that the acquisition of property had so largely gone beyond the concession of political power, as to disturb and break X 3o6 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. iip civil society altogether. This may be true ; but we should seek not merely for truth, but for the whole truth; and then we will find, that however necessary it may be to regulate the distribution of political power by the scale of property, it is still more necessary, because more vital, to have the heart and life of the nation penetrated by Chris- tian principle, as the only real security for the safe and permanent trust of political privilege. With this security, ■public opinion is healthy, enlightened, and influential ; without it, there can be no confidence in what a day may bring forth. It was just as I had written this reflection, that I found an authoritative exposition of this question, Vecorded by one whose name and memory live in the hearts of the wisest and best — who enjoyed the high pri- vilege of representing the great county which honoured him by its independent selection, and was more than re^- compensed by the honour thus reflected upon itself. I speak of William Wilberforce — the good, the gentle, the faithful, the eloquent ; in a word, the Christian statesman. He smashed the fetters of the slave, for he was the friend 'of the oppressed, and the hero of humanity; he smote the rock of practical Christianity, and the stream gushed forth, to irrigate the barren field of unprofitable profession, and give it freshness and fertility. " It is only," says he, " b^^ educating our people in Christian principles that we can ■ hope to advance in strength, greatness, and happiness. By their efficacy alone can we escape the operation of those causes which have assimilated other States to the human frame in its infancy, manhood, and decay. But the reli'- gion of those States was founded on false principles. They went on from stage to stage of intellectual improvement, emerging from ignorance to knowledge, till the light of day beamed upon the fabric, and betrayed the rotten im- position upon which it was built. The pillar of our great- ' hess is raised upon that basis of all intellectual and moral improvement, the Christian religion." If, then, we would •perpetuate our name and nation, it is by the enlightenment LABOUR AND KNOWLEDGE. 307 ■of knowledge, sanctified by religion, the action of Christian -love and sympathy, the diligent discharge of every form of Christian duty. There is a balance, an adjustment, to be maintained in the nation as in the individual. In the in- dividual, we may notice the great superiority of the man whose powers, though moderate, are all well-cultivated, when compared with another who is defective in moral or spiritual strength, though strong or sharp in intellect. Lord Bacon speaks of the work of man as showing its comparative imperfection, by requiring separate parts to be finished at intervals — the picture or the statue are in this way completed by piecemeal ; but in God's creation, the plant or the tree grows together in all its parts, increas- ing in strength without loss of symmetry. So that educa- tion, the proper growth and training of man, consists in the nurture and harmonious increase of all his powers in due proportion. The whole man thus increases gradually in strength of body, spirit, mind. This is in truth education. What is thus so material to the well-being of individual man, becomes applicable to the nation at large. The whole mechanism, material, intellectual, moral, and religious, should move with uniform and well-regulated speed, else it is liable to break up by the defect or excess of action in any one department. How wonderful is the , lesson taught in the beautiful consistency of God's provi- dential bounty 1 Facility of intercourse and production has been accompanied' by the corresponding increase of gold, so recently discovered at the very crisis at which it was required, to regulate the scale of prices, and render our general progress so available to promote the increase of human happiness. Without this there might have been a great derangement of the dealings of mankind ; and by the diminution of prices (regulated as they are by the supply of gold) much distress might have been occasioned by the very means of multiplying production. It is by : the diligent observation of the laws which so graciously jegulate human progress, by assigning to everything its 308 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. proper time and place, and by a dutiful obedience to the enlightened policy and the combinations which these laws commend, that we may hope to keep our position in the advancing march of civilization. We stand before the world as a. great and privileged people — between the OJd and the New World — a hand for each, a heart for both. We have inaugurated the free intercourse of nations. Our mission is, in the very spirit of Christianity, to carry peace and prosperity to every part of the habitable globe ; and it is gratifying to find, at the Conference now taking place at Brussels, that the great privilege and duty of free inter- course, and its action on the well-being of nations, have been so ably and so largely acknowledged and advocated. From this we may reasonably expect still happier results. We are not, however, to be impatient or precipitate. The course of the Divine dealings is slow and gradual. Man sometimes thinks, by some outward arrangements made on the impulse of the moment, to adjust and per- petuate enduring relations ; but it is, as Edmund Burke, with his habitual wisdom, observes of the economy of the world, " the disposition of a stupendous wisdom, moulding together the great mysterious incorporation of the human race ; the whole at one time is never old, middle-aged, or young ; but, in a condition of unchangeable constancy, it moves on through the varied tenor of perpetual decay, fall, renovation, and progression." In comparing our position and prospects with those of other nations, we have reason to thank God, and take courage. Representative government in other leading States of Europe seems to have no resting-place, demon- strating this, that truth and freedom cannot be permanently separated. Better far (as an old divine says), better to build up hay and stubble upon a rock, than gold and silver upon the shifting, sinking sand. I do not suggest this to encourage a spirit of self-sufficiency, but to main- tain a feeling of self-respect, and gratitude to God, and to awaken a due sense of the responsibility which so peculiarly aiccompanies privilege in every form. LABOUR AND KNOWLEDGE. 309 It is not by sudden, or fitful, or impulsive efforts that the good work of enlightening and elevating the working- classes can be best accomplished. We must move forward slowly but surely. We are not called upon to invent, but to apply ; for the proper means of securing the right ends are appointed and accredited ; and I am happy and thank- ful to find that the conscientious use and application of them are every day evidently becoming more general. There is a source of unexplored strength and power in our people. There are capabilities in immortal man many and various, such as may recompense Christian cultivation beyond all ordinary conception. What a noble privilege for the highest as for the humblest, in their allotted sphere- of duty, to assist in helping forward this great work of progress ! The discipline of life is intended to be one of difficulty ; to our working people it may be attended with both toil and trouble ; and yet for each and all of us it is intended to be one of solemn duty, to frame and fashion us by the formation of habits which mould the enduring character, and by conduct which forms these fixed habits. Co-operation and sympathy are always encouraging ; and how delightful it is when we see the glare of wealth soft- ened by the generous philanthropy which lightens the pressure of poverty and the gloom of ignorance ! I may observe, perhaps, as connected with the estimate to be formed of an Institute such as yours, that I am not insensible to the abuses to which it might, perhaps, be readily perverted ; but I will judge of it, as I do of other things, not by its possible perversions, but by its genuine tendencies. Good sense, wise moderation, and the prac- tical disposition with which God has so much blessed the English people, will, I trust, be here called in aid ; and I would add, that whilst the co-operation, the encourage- ment, the guidance, and the sympathy of the classes above should always be at the service of those below, yet no amount of effort can permanently elevate the social con- dition of the latter, otherwise than by soberly instructing 3IO LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. their minds and hearts in such a way as may render them thoughtful, virtuous, and happy. Look steadfastly at the laws by which the human being, whether isolated or social, whether in his individual or national life on earth, is evidently intended to be made truly prosperous. These laws can in no instance be disregarded or set at defiance, without the peril and the penalty which will as surely follow, as the recompense and the blessing may be ex- pected to attend the willing observance of their wise and beneficent injunctions, for in keeping of them there is great reward. But all must be done in humble dependence on the blessing and guidance of God. The Eddystone Lighthouse was built on a rock. So confident was the builder in the strength of his work, that he uttered the presumptuous wish that he might be there to face the greatest storm that ever blew from the heavens. His challenge was accepted ; and the same night the yawning ocean swallowed in its raging waters the workman and his work. Another archi- tect reconstructed the edifice with all the resources of human skill and science, but crowned the whole with this' Scriptural inscription, " Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build;" and now it stands a beacon and a blessing to the toiling mariner. Human effort is not to be superseded ; but the Divine blessing must always be sought in sincerity, for of ourselves we can do nothing. I feel that I have already trespassed unreasonably on your patient and indulgent attention. I do not address you in the sentimental mood of a passing stranger, merely stopping to scatter a few perishing flowers upon some honoured grave, but as one who, not for the first time, has felt an interest in the success of every effort by which improvement has here been wisely and faithfully carried forward. The name of Keswick is associated with the valuable and valued labours of one of my oldest and dearest friends, Dr. Whiteside,* and it is bound up with * Now Vicar of Scarborouirli. LABOUR AND KNOWLEDGE. 311 the sacred memory of one by whose practical wisdom and profound learning I have often been thankfully instructed, your own admirable and lamented Southey, so long and so. suitably the guardian-spirit of the head of this lovely and favoured district, the Jieart of which once throbbed with the living Wordsworth, the profound, the gentle Christian poet of Rydal — the pure and simple, the wise and truthful; philosopher : a district which held also in its impassioned embrace the generous and single-hearted Arnold, and. often refreshed the weary spirit of the great and good Wilberforce, who so happily called it " the paradise of England." What a moral loveliness is suffused over this delightful region by the memories of these honoured ancj illustrious dead ! Comparison is often, and perhaps un-r wisely, challenged of lake with lake, and mountain with mountain, for each has its own distinctive attractions ; and again, the scenery of foreign lands is set in contrast; with your mountain, lake, and valley. The cottage of Rayrigg, with its green slopes and grassy meadows, has been compared with the chateau of Voltaire on the banks of the giant lake of Geneva. Blessed be God, whatever be the result of any such comparison in the rival forms of external nature, your lakes and valleys are not clouded by the gloomy associations which the evil heart of unbelief has in other lands brought down upon nature's loveliness and nature's grandeur. Geneva, with its blue waters, beautiful as they are, has its Ferney and its Lausanne, but, alas ! associated with Voltaire and Gibbon ; Windermere, with its more simple and graceful modesty, has its Rayrigg and its Ambleside, but associated with these — -its Wilber- force and its Arnold. These precious adjuncts, the faithful and devoted friends of humanity, of whom the world wag not worthy — men whose names are dear to the hearts and consecrated in the affections of the wisest and the best of mankind — men who have left behind a memory which embalms them ; contrast them with those who, with satanic energy, have struggled to rob humanity of its brightest, and 312 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND ADDRESSES. dearest hopes, its most glorious consolations — to discredit and subvert our pure and holy faith, and make us of men most miserable — to bring down upon human life the dark- ness and desolation of blind unbelief and daring blasphemy, and shut out from a benighted world the bright and cheering beams of the glorious Gospel. Here, then, in the pure love- liness of nature, and in the purer gifts and privileges of grace, you have everything which could be needed to help you forward in peaceful and progressive prosperity. The very mountains which lift up their majestic summits to the skies, in their varying aspect teach the many-sidedness of great truths, and the influence of position from which, and of circumstances under which, , the same substantial truth may be so variously appre- hended. The placid lake, with its calm, unruffled bosom, reflecting the serene sky, and seeming sometimes to hold the high heavens in the very depths of its crystal waters, may speak to the meditative mind of the gracious descent of that heavenly peace which passeth understanding, into the humble and thankful heart of faith and prayer; and the secluded spots of loveliness in the valley, where beauty almost reposes in the lap of grandeur, may teach the thoughtful and contemplative student of nature, rising on the wings of faith and hope, and reading with the eye and spirit of love, that in simplicity and retirement, in the lowly and modest walk pf humble but contented life, the truest, the purest, the best sheltered happiness may often be found. It is not in a nsentimental or pantheistic spirit that the grandeur and beauty of creation are to be con- templated, but as the handy-work of Him " by whom and for whom all things were created." And it is thus placed under the light of the Sun of Righteousness. " Thy creatures have been my books," said the illustrious Bacon, " but Thy Scriptures much more. I have sought Thee in Thy fields and Thy gardens— I have found Thee in Thy Word and in Thy Temples." How gladdening to me — how it gives me hope and LABOUR AND KNOWLEDGE. 313 confidence to reflect, that in all that 1 have urged upon you this evening, I am sustained by the great authority of the honoured names of those whose memories are associated with many of these fair scenes of creation in which they may even now be ministering spirits. With ' each and all truth was the soul and source of genuine freedom ; and the expression of the Divine will, whether recorded in the Inspired Word, or suggested by the glorious works of their Almighty Author, was the rule of faith and life. The awful solemnity of all human life ; the inestimable worth of each individual man ; the power in duty faithfully discharged ; the hope and the happiness of the human family in its humblest ranks ; and the responsibility under which all of us, and especially of those in elevated positions, are placed, and from which there is no escape — these were the mighty themes which so largely filled their sympathizing hearts and enlightened minds — the more earnestly as observation and conference matured conviction, and the experience of life stirred and solemnized reflection. How greatly was I struck a few days ago in reading the wise and touching observation of Southey on the latter days and the hours of sore trial of the poet Cowper. Alas ! how little did he think that they might be adapted to his own solemn and sad bereavement ! Clouds and darkness sometimes, in the unsearchable ways of an all-wise God, are suffered to gather around and hang upon the lofty summit, on which has often shone the purest and brightest beams of heaven.. By undue or protracted separation from ordinary life — by excessive or exclusive working of great mental faculties — by the unvarying pressure of peculiar circumstances or special duties — by some providental interference with the balance of the human being (as mysterious perhaps in its ordinary adjustment as in its occasional disturbance) — by all or any of these may our day of life's solemn and eventful discipline be suddenly and unexpectedly shortened. This may teach a lesson of humility, by showing us how the 314 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. highest gifts of intellect, and the graces of life in its- loveliest forms, may be fearfully darkened, even though, blessed be God, they will not thus be blighted for ever. It tells us also that humanity, in all its forms and: all its conditions, has to encounter trials and afflictions wrhich are common in their purpose, though peculiar in their manifestation ; and, above all, it reminds those who enjoy the blessing of health and strength, that they should work whilst it is called day, not knowing in what pro- vidential form, nor at what moment, they may find the shadows of night closing around them, when they can no longer work, but must wait for the morning light of eternity. I have endeavoured, inadequately I fear, but not un- profitably I hope, to point out the combined claims of labour and knowledge in all the departments of industry^ spiritual, moral, intellectual, manual — the claim upon every class — the clergy and the laity, the manufacturer and the mechanic, the peer and the peasant, the student and the operative — each has his post of duty in the battle of our national life. In what I have criticised or condemned, it has not been in a censorious spirit ; it has been with a view of remedy — just as in our late campaign, the sacrifices occasioned by a system of administrative incompetence and neglect, forced upon us, from the instinct of self-preserva- tion, the duty of rectifying the errors which were so gra- ciously and opportunely exposed, and have been to a great degree remedied. Let us apply the lesson of wisdom to other departments. Even in a financial aspect, nothing is so expensive as duty neglected. I would suggest, moreover, that the war of classes — now past and gone, I hope — may leave behind a like lesson of remedial activity. There is in every class a disposition to look at the extreme to which the opposite class is liable, rather than to reflect upon and avoid that to which itself may perilously tend. Each class has a real interest in the increasing prosperity of every other. Our LABOUR AND KNOWLEDGE. 315 Blessed Lord spake but few admonitions with a political application ; one, however, should never be forgotten — " A kingdom divided against itself shall be brought to desola- tion." How fearful is the sin — the desolating sin — which foments the strife and schism of factious division ! Class arrayed against class, section striving for mastery over section, whilst ignorance, distrust, jealousy, pride, mam^ monism, go forward to do the work of social disorgani' zation ! But where fellow-citizens unite, with common sympathies — Saxon spirits and Christian hearts — encour- aging every legitimate occasion of kindly or profitable intercourse — diligent in the several departments of labour, wisely distributed — in a rivalry, not of the thorn and the brier, which shall show the sharpest prickle, but of the vine with the olive, which shall bear the richest fruit — then may this Christian co-operation be compared to the beam of heaven, with its rays of distinct colours, which, by their intimate coalescence, give light and warmth to the world. Go on in this spirit. May this Institute be an instrument of increased usefulness, not only in imparting special instruction available to many, but aiding in what is more properly called education, by which good habits are formed, good feeling is cherished, good sense nurtured, and the temper of charity, which is greater than faith or hope, maintained in its Christian fulness. Party politics are wisely excluded — for here your country is your party ; controversial theology is here excommunicated, for Chris- tianity is here your religion — Christianity in its Divine and comprehensive simplicity, as it shines in the' beams of the Sun of Righteousness, when He arose upon the nations with healing in His wings — a system of love and of saving grace, with few doctrines to be believed, but many duties to be performed — Christianity, pure and refreshing, as it gushes from its Divine fountain. Can I, then, despair of our working-classes, whilst society is seasoned with this saving salt ? The eye of the prophet turned instinctively to Him who is the great source of life, to quicken and 3l6 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. reanimate the dry bones, as they lay in the solemn stillness of death in the vision of the valley. May the breathings of that Almighty power quicken and sanctify every agency working for and with our working-classes ! May the gracious Spirit, who at the first breathed into man the breath of life, ever stir the soul and animate the heart and spirit of England, and bind up her destiny with Ihe hopes and the happiness of the whole human race ! ADDRESS Delivered to the Young Men's Christian Association, at Glasgow, ^th October, i86j. 1H AVE consented to address you on this occasion, that I might give you a practical proof of the interest that I feel in the successful working of this Association, which has become one of the established institutions of the City of Glasgow. The changes effected within living memory in this locality — the industrial energy — the manufacturing skill — the commercial enterprise — the intellectual activity and the religious earnestness of this great community — all bear witness to a law of human progress, beneficently or- dained by Him, from whom cometh down every good and every perfect gift. His dealings are the application of the eternal truths of His Providence to the particular circum- stances of man. The laws of the moral and the material world are wisely ordered for our discipline and our happi- ness ; and the study of these laws, in order to mould our institutions and form our habits in accordance with their requirements, opens out that course of improvement in which man is privileged to be a fellow-worker with God. We are encouraged to bring our life into harmony With principles which minister to our individual well-being, and advance the common weal. They are, in truth, but the expression of the Divine Will with which we become gradually acquainted in the discoveries of science and the disclosures of Revelation — the faithful and patient study of God's works and of His Holy Word. We find that it is 31 8 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. His purpose that the intellectual, the moral, and the reh'- gious progress of man, should keep pace with our outward prosperity. It is therefore with much satisfaction I find that this Association includes in its fundamental plan these several heads of improvement ; and however much may remain to be accomplished in working out effectively in detail and with completeness the comprehensive design, I earnestly hope that it may be kept steadily in view, as worthy of your unabated efforts to realize to the full. The will finds out the way ; and in such a community, with its time- honoured and venerable University, I confidently expect that arrangements will ultimately be made to effectuate in the best manner practicable the declared object of this Association — " the intellectual, moral, and religious improve- ment of the young men of Glasgow!' " This, indeed," says Lord Bacon, " is like the work of nature ; whereas the other courses I have mentioned are like the work of the hand. For as when a carver makes an image, he shapes . only that part wherein he works, and not the rest — as if he be upon the face, that part which shall be the body is but a rude and unshapen stone still, till such time as he comes to it ; but contrariwise, when nature makes a flower or a living creature, she forms and produces rudiments of all the parts at one time." You wisely propose to follow the guidance of nature. We have the material world without — the moral world within — and the Word of Revelation, which contains the key of the Divine cipher. Science and art — philosophy and religion, scatter their teeming truths around, to be gathered with patient diligence, with humility and thankfulness. Our whole nature is designed for culti- vation ; the health of the body, by cleanliness, regularity, and temperance ; the mind, by study and conference ; the moral nature, by the obedience of faith — the active disci- pline of virtue ; the spiritual nature, by private devotion and by public worship. Thus may we combine symmetry ■with strength, and balance the complex forces, which are ADDRESS : GLASGOW YOUNG MEN'S ASSOCIATION. 3 19 designed to act and re-act on each other. The Christian student seeks to preserve the harmony of his nature, when he dedicates himself in body, soul, and spirit unto God, as a reasonable service. He feels it to be at once a duty and a privilege to avail himself of every opportunity of general improvement. The narrow uninstructed mind is not the fitting companion for a large and loving heart. You cannot have failed to observe the change that has teen wrought in recent times in the character of labour. In some departments (for instance in agriculture) what was at one time coarse toil and mere animal drudgery, has been elevated to an industrial pursuit; in which capital, skill, and science have increased production, and ministered not only to the wants but to the comforts of society. Science has unfolded laws of nature — art, of beauty. The applica- tion of science and art has given to some departments of labour an altered aspect. Labour has been regarded in a light that came not from above, and in forgetfulness of its Divine appointment. The Divine right and the sacred purpose of leisure and rest were overlooked, when labour was supposed to be the special burthen of some, and idle- ness the peculiar privilege of others. Labour is a law binding on man as man. " It is " (says Edmund Burke) " the common doom of man, that he must eat his bread by the sweat of his brow, — that is, by the sweat of his body, or the sweat of his mind. If this toil was inflicted as a curse, it is (as might be expected from the Father of all blessings) tempered with many alleviations, many comforts. Every attempt to fly from it and to refuse the very terms of our existence, becomes much more truly a curse, and heavier pains and penalties fall upon those who would elude the tasks that are put upon them by the great Master Workman of the World, who, in His dealings with His creatures, sympathises with their weakness, and speaking of a Creation wrought by- mere will out of nothing, speaks of six days of labour and one of rest." It is a fact revealed that God our Creator— 320 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. without whom was not anything made that was made, is also the Lord our Redeemer ; and He has assured us that " the Sabbath was made for man." The blessing of rest was provided before the sentence of labour was pronounced. Thus are they connected in, the Divine economy — the one as a law of universal obligation, the other as the gracious provision of Divine goodness and mercy. Man, in every class, is designed for a life of diligence and duty; but on the other hand, rest is to be regarded as the right of all who are bound by the law of labour. There is a common error in speaking of a working or labouring class, as if it could only include those who are engaged in manual toil. There is a like error in regarding rest as mere indolent inaction. " Absence of occupation is not rest, The mind that's vacant is a mind distress'd." " Let us here " (says Hooker) " not take rest for idle- ness. They are idle whom the painfulness of action causeth to avoid those labours whereunto both God and nature bindeth them. They rest which either cease from their worlt, when they have brought it unto perfection, or else give over a meaner labour because a worthier and better is to be undertaken. God hath created nothing to be idle or ill employed." The day without morning or evening was appointed as the day of sacred rest ; on the other days " man goeth forth unto his work and his labour until the evening" Thus has the period of rest weekly and daily recurring, been set apart under God's appointment; and whilst labour is one of the earliest laws, rest is one of the earliest privileges of humanity. In truth, it takes pre- cedence of labour ; it was preparatory before it became restorative. The seventh day of the Almighty Creator, when He rested from the work of Creation, was the first day for created man. For the Christian, God has provided that the Lord's Day should remind him not only of the work of Creation ended, but of the work of Redemption finished, and the work of the Comforter begun. " This is ADDRESS: GLASGOW YOUNG MEN'S ASSOCIATION. 32 1 the day which the Lord hath made — we will rejoice and be glad in it." The early closing movement is but a tardy recognition j of the Divine right of appropriate rest. It is one of the cheering proofs of the progress of society to find that the changes which have been brought about in labour by the discoveries and application of Science, have been accom- panied by a growing desire for the mental and moral im- provement of those who are occupied with their daily work. To bring about the happy result by which labour has been elevated, Science has contributed ; but let it never be forgotten, that the privilege of leisure and rest has been secured by the authority of God's Holy Word. How could the seventh day have been rescued from the grasp of Mammon — the workman saved from the grinding exaction of the covetous spirit that would sa.cn?ice persons on the altar of things ? How — but by the influence of the Divine Word cherished in the hearts and fearlessly honoured by the best and the wisest of our people ? How could you have gained for yourselves the full evening of leisure — the early release on the Saturday — ■ the uninvaded privilege of the Sabbath — if all this had - not been required by a voice from Heaven ? Blessed truth for man, that rest is a Divine right ! If it were ' of man — an appointment of human authority — they who had bound might lose ; but as it is of God — a provision of His own Almighty goodness and wisdom — then it is . in all its fulness the birthright of man, which he may indeed despise and barter away, but of which he cannot- lawfully be deprived. When he parts with the birthright he forfeits the blessing. How may the hours of leisure be most profitably turned to good account, according to the purpose for which God has given them ? This is a large and all- important question. Your Association proposes to answer itj so far at least as your resources and opportunities Y 322 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. admit. You tell the young men of Glasgow, that the; privilege which has been conceded to them places them undei: a weighty responsibility. What each might be unable to realize for himself, may be accomplished by ah Association, in which the feelings of mutual dependence tends to chasten and correct the excess of self-reliance ; which seeks to provide a course of improvement, under, the auspices and with the generous aid of the wisest and most influential of the citizens. In this arrangement, the whole community has a real interest. " A day of rest, recurring every week, and hours of exercise, of leisure, of intellectual improvement recurring in every day, elevate; the whole man — elevate him physically, elevate him in- tellectually, elevate him morally; and his elevation, physi- cal, moral, and intellectual, again falls on the commercial prosperity of the country which is advanced with it." Such were the impressive words of an eloquent states- man, the late Lord Macaulay. Intellectual improvement takes precedence in your programme. I am one of those who think that the science of language — the study of words — is the fit preparation for the study of things. The certainties of Arithmetic and Geometry, and the exercises of Logic mature the reasoning faculty. It is at least as important to learn to think accurately as to express our thoughts in appro-, priate language. The study of facts relative to nature, and to man unfolds the laws which regulate our social condition, and leads the mind to regard things in differ- ent aspects as they appear to others, and thus tends to correct limited or partial views. If we are ambitious to make a great advance in some one department of secular knowledge, success is seldom attained without a sacri-, fice of that symmetry of the mind, which is, I think, of the very essence of a sound and liberal education. To, those who seek for special excellence in some department of mechanical or scientific knowledge, with a limited or selfish object, and without reference to the general cul- ADDRESS : GLASGOW YOUNG MEN'S ASSOCIATION. 323 tivation of their immortal nature, I cannot suppose that this Association has any peculiar attractions. But for those who can appreciate wholesome literature, who^ desire to cultivate the study of language, to learn the, lessons and listen to the philosophy of history, unfolded in the biographic sketches of representative men ; for those who seek to become acquainted with the outline and the principles of economic science — to learn how to observe and classify the facts of real life, and deduce those in- ferences, by which many current errors and popular fal- lacies are exploded — for such, provision may be (if not already) made, by the arrangement of Evening Classes, in aid of the periodical Lectures. These (if I may judge from the programme for this session) are likely to be of the highest value. I know how difficult it is, on the one hand, to avoid arrangements too methodical to be gene- rally attractive, and on the other, a lack of discipline, under which the young men would be left to drift when they ought to steer. But if the Association is to accom- plish its professed purpose, those who join it must exercise a vigilant self-control, and seek the guidance of such as are most competent to give them counsel. If the attend- ance of any should degenerate into a lounge, to indulge his indolence or repair his exhaustion, I have not a word of encouragement for him ; I have but to deplore and denounce a waste of opportunity. But to the earnest and resolute — to those who look forward to a life of honourable and successful industry — to you, I say — learn how to study history for lessons of present guidance ; to appreciate literature, adapted as it is, when pure, honest, and truthful, to refine and elevate the mind — ; to give liberal and enlarged views, and enable you to understand the hearts of men. I would especially observe that, in this practical age, there is a very dangerous ten, dency to grasp at what seems, for the time being," to be most marketable, and this leads to an undue deprecia- tion of studies which exercise a, powerful though indirect ^24 ' LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. mfluence upon the mind and character. The Classics are often disparaged — poetry is sometimes despised — litera-' ture is regarded as a sentimental luxury. All this is not- Only a mistaken but a mischievous erron The genuine poet, like the true orator, appeals to the deep feelings and universal sympathies of mankind. Imagination ha^ not been given to us without a Divine purpose. By it we idealize the present, and thus we are, in some degree^ enabled to divest life of its material grossness. The true] the beautiful, and the good are present to the p6et, who binds together by passion and knowledge the vast eni' pire of human society — over all time — over all the wide earth. " The engrossing cares of business, and the quick knd varied delights of pleasure, with the piquant relish of all that is seen and tangible, keep the attention fixed on the things that are merely secular. We must look for some powerful aid to lift men up out of the world of sense." Such are the words of a very distinguished student of the University of Dublin, in ah' address of sirigular ability, delivered before the Theological Society of Trinity College, by the Auditor, Mr. Dowden. In speaking of the functions of the imagination in subser- viency to religion, he has added — " In the manifestation of Jesus, in the helping men to the pefception of Mis Divine character, in the unfolding of its beauties, in the displaying to the affections the distinct conception of theii- object, lies one of the noblest offices of the Christian ministry;" The imagination enables Us to modify lif6— ' to invest the actual with the ideal — a part Of the - ap- pointed process of our ■ mysterious nature, by which wiS are aided and encouraged, under the guidance and with the help of the Holy Spirit, to go on unto perfecticftil You may see, then, how narrow and imperfect (to say the least of it) is that view of education which would limit it to any special form of fragmentary instriictionJ It is in the harmonious training of all the faculties — fK3 fiistructiOn_ of the mind— the disciptine of the imagiHatfon ADDRESS : GLASGOW YOUNG MEN'S ASSOCIATION. 325: — the expanding of the affections, a process by which the' head is enhghtened and the heart is enlarged. We sometimes meet with men of property and position who* seem to despise the great laws of human association, with which, perhaps, they have never been acquainted, and they are insensible to many influences by which life- is penetrated. But the formation of generous sentiments must not be left out of view as an integral and vital part ■ of Education. I speak not of a sentimentality that buries" every virtuous emotion in the language of extravagance,-' but- I advert to that sound and elevated feeling which- springs from the thoughtful study of the moral and social relations N. of man. Never was it more needed than at present. You cannot fail to observe that modern pro- gress-tends to the development of individual liberty, and suggests that men should generally be left to follow their > own interests. Those who are not sufficiently instructed to keep within the limits of regulated freedom, " give way to that laxity of practice and indifference of opinion iii which they too easily shelter themselves from rigour and • constraint." We see every day more clearly exhibited, the penal consequences of ignorance; nothing is so pre-., sumptuous — nothing so extravagant in wasting the bounty of the gifts of God. The progress that has been made in social economy and outward prosperity, has been in a great degree accomplished by a more accurate and ex- tensive acquaintance with the laws of the material world-^ and by a cheerful submission to their beneficial require- j nients. But these, after all, we have reason to believe,- are subordinate and subservient to the moral order under : which man is placed — an immortal and accountable.! creature — in whose heart God has written the eternal and . immutable law of His moral being. Moral improvement, ' then, holds its place in your programme—specified rather ' for distinctness than with any purpose of separating it ' from intellectual or religious improvement. God has joined- them .together, and they are never put aspnder..^ 326 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. without injurious results. But in this moral department there is a special peculiarity that is of the most vital consequence to dwell upon. Moral improvement requires the formation of moral habits ; and these must be ac- quired according to the method that God has appointed as under the eternal laws of the moral system. This metlj^od requires us to be diligent in duty^-to act upon our moral convictions — in a word, to be " fellow-workers with God." In the great work of Butler on the Analogy of Religion to the Constitution and Course of Nature, this subject is treated in a way that has entitled the illustrious author to be classed in the first rank of Moralists. That law of our moral nature by which passive impressions are weakened by repetition, whilst practical principles are strengthened by exercise, is there expounded with singular and (I would add) with solemn perspicuity. " But," says he, " going over the theory of virtue in one's thoughts, talking well and drawing fine pictures of it ; this is so far from necessarily or certainly conducing to form a habit of it in him who thus em- ploys himself, that it may harden the mind in a con- trary course, and render it gradually more insensible, i.e., form a habit of insensibility to all moral considerations. For, from our very faculty of habits, passive impressions, , by being repeated, grow weaker." Every moral being has a vital interest in this immutable law of his immortal nature. And here, in this Association, where you meet ■ to learn from books and lecturers, to deepen and extend , your moral convictions, how needful is it to warn you , at the outset, that these convictions if not carried into ; conduct, if they do not lead to the faithful discharge of, the daily duties of your station, and of the relations of , life in which God may have placed you — they may be " the savour of death unto death ;" the source of a - moral paralysis — a habit of moral insensibility. Our' blessed Lord, in opening out the spiritual ethics of the Gospel, in the Sermon on the Mount, has given to this ^ ADDRESS : GLASGOW YOUNG MEN'S ASSOCIATION. 327 law of our moral nature, a vital place in the economy of Redemption. He who hears those sayings and doeth them — he it is who builds securely upon a rock. He who hears and doeth not, builds upon the shifting sand. The. passive impression in his case becomes at last insensible — the foundation fails — the superstructure tumbles into ruin. We have, then, in this teaching of Him who spake as never man spake, an infallible recognition of this im- portant and immutable law of our moral nature. To know or to hear the highest truths may become a blessing or a curse according to the use which we make of them — according as we continue in them— as we act upon them — become doers of the word and not hearers only. You cannot fail to remember the many instances ini which this lesson of Divine wisdom is taught and enforced in the New Testament. Never is it urged in the way of leading us to make a merit of our works, as if salvation were our rightful recompense. The duties required of us are the fruit of faith that works by love — -the grateful offerings of that love which is the fulfilling of the law. This obedience of faith — this work and labour of love— this practical Christianity forms the habits which mould the Christian character. This character, as finally fashioned by the "appointed discipline of life, capacitates for the enjoy- ment of that reward of grace which is not the less free as a gift, because it has been so mercifully adjusted as to. provide not only for our happiness but for our security. I; say, our security — for virtuous habits help us in resisting the temptations which are part of our moral discipline; The acquired habit comes in aid of the reason — of the moral faculty, in controlling passions which cannot be lawfully gratified. '.. I know not a subject more solemn than this — that immortal beings placed here in God's world, as His ret sponsible creatures and destined for eternity— are her^ daily and hourly fashioning (as it were) by repeated strokes anuodying personality. Each touch may be imperceptihle 3,28 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. in itself, but the result is an indestructible character. The analogies of nature teach us that all growth is gradual and continuous, with appointed seasons and with exact limit- ations. From the seed sown until the harvest reaped, there is sometimes an unseen but always a seasonable and a living progress unto maturity. Youth is the sowing season of human life. Opportunity may here be lost that can never be recalled. We talk of this life as if it was something shadowy and unreal ; but however transient and temporal are the things that are seen, the life of man on earth is eminently real. In eloquent and impressive language Mr. Gladstone has said — " So surely as the day and the night alternately follow one another, does every day when it yields to darkness and every night when it passes into dawn, bear with it its own tale of the results which it has silently wrought upon each of us for evil or for good. The day of diligence, duty, and devotion, leaves us richer than it found us ; richer sometimes, and even commonly, in our circumstances ; richer always in our^; selves. But the day of aimless lethargy, the day of pas- sionate and rebellious disorder, or of a merely selfish and perverse activity, as surely leaves us poorer at its close than we were at its beginning." Thus, then, if you are in earnest in here seeking for help in " moral improvement," you may find a powerful incentive to a life of duty, as a security which God has appointed against influences which might dry up the very springs of your moral being. Let me commend earnestly to your patient and prayerful study, the weighty chapter in Butler's Analogy to which I have referred. Its teaching has been enforced with the earnestness and the warmth of his large and generous heart, by your own beloved and memorable Chalmers, who has illustrated with all the many charms of his elevated and impressive eloquence, the profound practical wisdom of the illustrious Butler. It is the subject of a truly valuable lecture of Archbishop Whately, published in the volume which contains the ADDRESS: GLASGOW YOUNG MEN'S ASSOCIATION. 329 series of lectures delivered in Dublin in 1862, before the Young Men's Christian Association in connection with the United Church. I may perhaps, also, without any kind of pretence, but with a heartfelt anxiety for your moral benefit, refer to the published lectures on the Analogy, delivered by myself, in which I have commented on this chapter on habits, and endeavoured to show how it con- sists with the great facts of man's moral degradation by nature, his redemption by the finished work of Christ, and his regeneration by the work of the Holy Spirit. The genius of Scott has given us the inimitable sketch of Old Mortality, with mallet and chisel, and with indomit^ able spirit striving to repair the ruins of time — deepening and renewing the lines which the winds and the rains of heaven ceased not to obliterate. Oh ! for a pen like his to sketch .'Young Immortality,' moulding a work for eternity — an imperishable sculpture for the sanctuary of Heaven. The illustrious parent of modern philosophy called himself " the servant of posterity," as significant of the hope that consoled his chastened spirit in the day of his humiliation, that succeeding times would do justice td his memory. The " heir of eternal life " is sustained by a better hope, a stronger consolation. You have recently seen those noble vessels, in which science and skill have combined to give a power of resist-i ance superior to the power of aggression. No expensd has been spared in experiment or in construction — the energies of science have been tasked— the efforts of mechanical skill exhausted, in crowning these princes of the ocean. Shall we not feel as deep an interest in the moral security of our young men ; in having them pro- tected against the aggression of moral evil^the assaults of a power of untameable energy? Here we have not to invent but to apply. The moral law — the facts and the principles of our moral nature — the mode by which it can be " habit clad " — if I may use the expression — this is of God's appointment. If it is our policy, as a people, to act 330 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. upon the results disclosed by science, and to provide against the possible invasion of our peaceful shores-^-is it not our wisdom as Christians, who have to resist the un- tiring assailant of our immortal nature, to avail ourselves of the means which God has provided for our moral security ? Religious improvement may be distinguished, but can- not be separated from moral. They are connected by deep and divine harmonies ; and indeed, you will find in every false religion some denial or displacing of the moral law': It is a pregnant proof of the Divine origin of the Holy Scriptures, that moral truth is upheld throughout, in all its integrity — whilst in matters of external nature, to which reference is made for a subsidiary purpose, the language is accommodated to the common understanding, though never so as to offend the true spirit of science. It is adapted to the occasion, and subservient to the primary purpose of the Divine message, that might have been frustrated by the use of words, which would have been then unintelligible, or might have seemed palpably untrue.' " To seek Heaven and Earth in the Word of God," says Bacon, with his habitual wisdom, " is to seek temporary things amongst eternal. And as to seek divinity amongst philosophy, is to seek the living amongst the dead ; so, to seek philosophy in divinity, is to seek the dead amongst the living. The scope or purpose of the Spirit of God, is not to express matters of nature in the Scriptures, other- wise than in passage, and for application to man's capacity, and to matters moral or divine. And it is a true rule, 'auctoris aliud agentis, parva auctoritas' — what a man sayS incidentally about matters which are not in question, has little authority." The most exact philosopher, in common intercourse, scruples not to speak of sunset and sunrise, and the like. And so in Scripture you find the occasional adoption of so much of the current popular belief, as serves to illustrate or explain parts of the Divine Message. This condescension to man— ^to the humble and the simple-r- shews how God intended His blessed Word to be available ADDRESS.: GLASGOW YOUNG MEN'S ASSOCIATION. 33 1 and open to all ; free and accessible as the wondrous works of creation. But the very purpose of Revelation required that one jot or tittle of the moral law should not be repealed or superseded. And so it is that in the Bible, the most recondite truths of our moral nature are asserted or assumed ; the law is immutable — our nature is immortal. I have already referred to the great law, by which duty is indispensable to our moral life ; and in a degree which we may not be able to apprehend, it is important to our progress in religious knowledge. "If any man shall be willing to do His will, he shall know of the doctrine whether it be of God." A willing obedience is the path to a higher knowledge of Divine truth. Nor is it merely that you should come out (as it were) on great occasions, but that in your humblest duties you should exercise the functions of your moral life. The learned editor of the noble edition of Lord Bacon's works, recently published, has observed — " It is a fact worth knowing, for it may serve as a caution and encouragement both, and it is one of those which the reverence of posterity is too apt to overlook or keep out of sight — that the various accom- plishments for which Bacon was distinguished among the men of his time, were not given to him ready-made. The secret of his proficiency was simply that, in the smallest matters, no less than in the greatest, he took a great deal of pains." The physician will tell you, that what is called insensible perspiration, is one of the most important func- tions of the body. The religion of common life is the true response to the constant beating of the believer's heart. In carrying out the work of religious improvement, the intelligent study and enlightened knowledge of the Holy Scriptures must take precedence. Just consider what a singular volume the Bible is. Unique in its one- ness, as it is unrivalled in its variety, it has been confronted with nature and with man from age to age, and has been " a light unto the feet and a lamp unto the path " of those who have most thoroughly explored nature and most pro- foundly studied man. " Scripture," says Edmund Burke, 332 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. - ^- "is no one summary of doctrines regularly digested in- which a man could not mistake his way ; it is a most' venerable but most multifarious collection of the records- of the divine economy ; a collection of an infinite variety- of cosmogony, theology, history, prophecy, psalmody.^ morality, apologae, legislation — ethics carried through dif-J ferent books, by different authors at different ages, for different ends and purposes. It is necessary to sort out what is intended for example, what only as narrative, what' to be understood literally, what figuratively ; where one precept is to be controlled and modified by another — ^what used directly and what only as an argumentuni ad homi-' nem ; what is temporary and what of perpetual obligation " — what appropriated to one state and to one set of men,' and what the general duty of all Christians." This won-' derful variety is treasured in that sacred Record, empha-^ tically called "The Book," with its Divirie unity, the unity of the Spirit. The history of your own people furnishes a • pregnant comment on the practical wisdom of what Burke- has suggested. Precepts of the Old Testament designed-* to be local and personal, have been misapplied in violation-" of the great principles of the New. Remember this — ^that to misapply a principle is, in effect, to violate it. We may have to take into account not only facts and circumstances with which we are compelled to deal, but likewise other^ principles equal in authority. This admits, if it does not ' always require, an instructed and a thoughtful spirit, to keep, us safe in our course of discipline and duty. It is"' quite true, and we should be deeply thankful for it, that^ the Bible is designed for the humblest and the unlettered, as well as for the wise and learned. We must not limit ^ the influence, as we cannot define the operation, of the Spirit - of Truth— ' " Whose love, whose counsel, whose commands have made Your very poorest rich in peace of thought i And in good works ; and him who is endowed Witli scantiest knowledjje, master of all truth ' Which the salvation of his soul requires." -. ,. . . _ >_ - - - ■' ADDRESS.:- GLASGOW- YOU N-G MEN'S ASSOCIATION. 333 " But the possessor of the one talent was not suffered, without rebuke, to be unprofitable. As in natural and civil knowledge, progress may be made by study and diligence (in various forms — so is there a " going on unto perfection " in religious attainments. When Bacon speaks of his hope of providing a better guidance in the investigation of truth, :he says, " wherein, if I have made any progress, the way has been opened, to be by no other means than the true and legitimate humiliation of the human spirit " — " the rentrarice into the kingdom of man, founded on the sciences being' not much other than the entrance into the kingdom pf heaven, whereunto none may enter, except as a little <:hild." You will do well to study diligently the remarks of this wonderful man in reference to the use of reason in religion. They are to be found in the 9th Book of the ?' De Augmentis Scientiarum," Vol. V., pp. 113-115 (last .edition). Reason has its proper place and office in philo- sophy, politics, and religion ; but the realities of life, the facts of nature, and the truths of revelation, are not to be set aside in Order that our reason may be exalted above measure. Bacon has shewn this generally^Burke espe- cially in politics, Butler in theology. " The men of experi- ment (says Bacon) are like the ant, they only collect and juse ; the reasoners resemble spiders, who made cobwebs out pf their Own substance. But the bee takes a middle course ; it gathers its material from the flowers of the garden and the field, but transforms and digests by a power of its own." There is no department of knowledge in which you may Hot find something which may be available in expanding, if not deepening, your views of Holy Scripture. But it is unreasonable to expect to find, even in the best authors, jvhat is quite suitable to us, or free from all objection; you must use the discrimination, as well as the diligence, of the :bee. And here much may depend on the chastened .sobriety, the healthy vigour, the wise moderation which the faithful and prayerful study of the Bible, may, un- der .God's guidance and blessing, have imparted, Keep 334 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. yourselves in sympathy with thoughtful and sober-minded men ; the peril of extreme opinions cannot be overstated. You might impair your simple common sense, and narrow the heart without instructing the mind. I commend to you earnestly the study of Butler's writings, to enable you fully to apprehend the structure of your moral nature. And as I have given you a friendly caution as to the perils that you may encounter in the study of moral truth, so let me especially warn you against a danger that is imminent at the present time, in the study of the Bible itself The most sacred truths of religion may come to be considered rather as subjects for intellectual scrutiny and criticism, than for the renewing the heart, and restoring the harmony of life. Religion may thus be studied without the awaken- ing of those emotions and sentiments which the truths of religion are naturally fitted to produce. It is the parallel of what Butler has noticed as to the truths of moral science. If we view the truths of Revelation or of moral science merely in a rational aspect, we may repress the emotions which are proper to each, and which are designed to exer- cise a practical influence. In the lectures on Butler to which I have already referred, I have explained the views which I have been led to adopt on matters of controversy, now agitated with reference to the Holy Scriptures. There is not one of the current sceptical objections that ought to embarrass any well regulated and instructed mind. Difficulties there are, as we might reasonably ex- pect, for difficulty is a part of the discipline of life. I may give you one instructive example of the removal of a diffi- culty. Dr. Chalmers says he never experienced so great a deliverance, as when he was enabled to reconcile the free grace of the Gospel with its moral demands. He had not sufficiently considered the emotional element of our com- plex nature. You may have seen the spectral image of the moon before day begins to decline ; it scarcely attracts more than a passing notice. But when that glorious orb has brightened into majesty, and nature is wrapt in repose ; ADDRESS: GLASGOW YOUNG MEN'S ASSOCIATION. 335 when the soul is in deep harmony with solitude and silence, and all above seems mystery and beauty — and under this transforming influence we think of beloved ones who have parted from us in the journey of life — the founder of our hopes — the child of our affections — the partner of our de- parted joys — " Departed — never to return " — the trembling tear— the tender prayer and the spell of sympathy bear witness that we are wonderfully made. There are particular affections of our nature excited by appropriate objects, and these exercise a powerful influence over conduct and character. This had not escaped the" sagacity of Butler, in whose lessons of wisdom Dr. Chal- mers much delighted, and these at last enabled him to solve the problem that had given him much disquietude. He saw the light that was reflected from the exquisite parable of the creditor and the two debtors ; that in pre- senting Christ as the grand object of our affections, God was drawing us with the cords of a man. We love Him because He first loved us — Him who workcth for us, who worketh with us, who worketh in us — and therefore tells us to do all our duties heartily as unto Him, and not unto man. This is the victory that overcometh the world. There are some other points of interest which I might be disposed here to deal with ; but I am reminded that it is altogether unnecessary, where you are provided with teachers so eminent and so willing to instruct and to guide you, with pure and peaceable wisdom, in the faithful study of that blessed Word that is able to make you wise unto salvation. Though I have treated the heads of improvement in the order in which your programme has placed them, I must now place them in the Apostolic order of — faith — virtue — knowledge. Religious improvement takes pre-' cedence — the influence of the mother's love before the' mother's learning. The most profound historian of mo- dern times (Niebuhr) has observed that religious reform 336 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. should go before political ; the Reformation preceded the Revolution. The fig-tree that was luxuriant with leaves was barren of fruit — the order of sequence peculiar to its species, was inverted, and it incurred a sentence which teaches a solemn lesson of the importance of the order that God has fixed in the Divine economy. It is just about three hundred years since the English Reformation, in the beginning of the reign of Elizabeth. Its professed policy was to purify the faith by an appeal to the Holy Scriptures; to open these Scriptures to the people, and to liberate opinion. This recognised the great truth of the sufficiency of the Scriptures, and the right of private judgment. About the same period, the Council of Trent reconstructed the system of the Church of Rome. Their policy was to stereotype the dogmas of their new Creed under an authority that was assumed to be infallible. It proscribed the exercise of private judgment ; it corrupted the faith, and it enslaved opinion. The two systems have been under trial for three centuries — let us judge of the tree by the fruit. In the year 1848, the late Archbishop Murray selected a Roman Catholic Priest whom he sent to Rome on business connected with the Church of Rome in Ireland, and in a letter written from Rome by this envoy, which was afterwards published, he refers to the freedom of his Church under the English Constitution in tliese words : " Hence it is clear that in no other Euro- pean nation, the exercise of religious liberty is safer and sounder." We have a still more striking and more recent testimony from Cardinal Wiseman at the late congress convened at Malines, where Montalembert, the eloquent advocate of the Papacy, earnestly contended for liberty of conscience and the free exercise of private judgment. He has (however unconsciously) vindicated the Reformation ; but he may have forgot that private judgment has its duties as well as its rights. It is a moral liberty to be perfected and preserved by the agencies of the Gospel. There must be free education, in order to remove the ADDRESS : GLASGOW YOUNG MEN'S ASSOCIATION. 337, influences which sustain the throne of intolerance that must give way before the light of "the perfect law of liberty." This has a large signification — it implies civil liberty as well as religious freedom. ^ " Who would be free must first be wise and good." Thus then, our enemies themselves being the judges, the Reformation has been the protector, if not the parent, ot the freedom, which they have yet to realize. Sardinia,' with the instinct of a people destined to be free, has already followed in the wake of England. The very steps, that were taken in the reign of Henry VIII, and con- solidated in the beginning of the reign of Elizabeth as, part of the Reformation code, have been taken by Sardinia. The work so auspiciously begun, in order to make her Church national and domestic in its discipline, must be continued in making it also Scriptural in its doctrine ; and then, by education and patient perseverance, she may elevate her people to the rank and station of a free and Christian community. Is it not indeed instructive to look at the Papal States and at Spain — to trace the effects of that ungodly intolerance, which is of the earth earthy — and on the other hand in the far west, to observe how liberty has become licentious — a cloke of maliciousness ? Let us stand fast in that liberty, wherewith Christ hath made us free. Let us rest and be thankful. The institu- tions of our free country are worth preserving — the herit- age of generations yet unborn. I fear that I have already trespassed too long on your indulgence. I know that I might have spoken in a way more likely to be attractive to a general audience. I might have alluded to Scotland as the land of story and of song, the land of my forefathers, that frcftn the days of my childhood, I was taught to venerate. I might have eulogised the stern grandeur of her mountain solitudes — the loveliness of lake and river, the lowlands laughing with fertility. And above all, I might have dwelt on the Z 338 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. charms of her native literature — the humour, the tender- ness, and the melody of her poets — the mild wisdom of her philosophers — the " Good Words " of her godly minis- ters. But I resolved to speak profitably, if I could, to the young men of this admirable Association. We have met to-night in that spirit of kindly intercourse which requires not the compromise of one sincere conviction, nor sanc- tions the intrusion of one uncharitable feeling. To culti- vate such a spirit is an element of Christian life. It has been beautifully said, by one not more elegant than wise, that " charity must, in its comprehensiveness, embrace everything human, rnust shed its light upon the just and the unjust, detect the soul of good in things evil, steal rigidity from virtue, and bring into gentle relief, those truths which are of aspect the most benign, and those suggestions and hopes for the erring, which are most full of consolation." How often do we find, in the collisions of life, distortion and suspicion, where much has been misconceived, much that is redeeming overlooked, and our security is only found in the culture of that Divine charity, which " thinketh no evil." We have met in the name that assures us of the gra- cious presence of our Lord and Master. " It is good for us to be here." " Sun of my soul, my Saviour dear ! It is not night if Thou art near. Oh ! may no earthborn cloud arise. To hide Thee from Thy servant's eyes ! '' Be Thou the guiding light of these, the young men of Glasgow. May their course through life, like the deep flow of their lordly river, be ever onward and abounding — " Till in the ocean of Thy love They lose themselves in Heaven above." THE IRISH DIFFICULTY. Lecture delivered before the Dublin Young Men's Christian Association, 8th February, i86§. IT has been well observed by Professor Dugald Stewart, that " toxorrect an error or to explode a prejudice, is often of more essential importance to human happiness, than to enlarge the boundaries of science." Many years have elapsed since I first heard of what has been called (^par excellence) " the Irish difficulty." It had become a kind of proverb, and had been in some degree looked upon as " a lion in the path " of our national progress. It has more or less haunted the minds of people in Ireland with, the apprehension that there is some irremovable (though undefined) hindrance to improvement, something that must ever render their efforts unavailing and hopeless ; sufficient to paralyse their energies, to nourish and excuse inaction. The existence of such a feeling is fatal to progress. Let me remind you that faith in social progress is a guarantee of order as well as of prosperity; There is a Divine law that regulates that progress ; that subjects society to its. imperative requirements ; that calls upon us not only ta encounter difficulties, but to make them subservient to the higher purposes of human life. Under the belief that the common notion of " the Irish difficulty " is a prejudice that should be exploded ; and desirous (as I am) that the young men of this Association should be encouraged to acquire, truthful, temperate, and manly notions as to their rights and duties as citizens of the United Kingdom, as 340 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND ADDRESSES well as to the proper claims that their native country now has and hereafter must have upon them as patriotic Irish- men, I venture to bring before you the subject of "the Irish difficulty." In the Divine economy difficulty is generally designed to be subservient to man's moral discipline. It is used to arouse and stimulate us to exertion ; to impress us with a conviction of our dependence on God. On the other hand, it is sometimes the penal consequence of opportunity neglected — of " indolence and irregularity long continued." The fig-tree that was luxuriant in its rank foliage was barren of fruit ; the law of its natural condition had been contravened, and it was smitten with a blight, under a judicial sentence. A lesson of the deepest wisdom is lodged in the parable. It may be our lot, indeed, to encounter much difficulty which we have not consciously created ; but for the manner and the spirit in which we meet it, we cannot but be responsible to God and our neighbour. " The Author of our being is the Author of our place in the order of existence; and having disposed and marshalled us by a Divine tactic, not according to our will, but according to His, He has in and by that disposi- tion virtually subjected us to act the part which belongs to the place assigned us." It is about seven hundred years since Ireland (or rather a part of it) came under the dominion of the monarch of England. Whatever else is doubtful, this is clear, that the Pope of that day was an accomplice in the transaction ; and native chiefs, whose name was legion, were accessories after the fact. Long before that event took place Christianity had found its way into the land. The early Church of Ireland, the Church of St. Patrick, was episcopal and domestic, and it recognised the divine and supreme authority of Holy Scripture. " Type of the wise, who soar but never roam, True to the kindred points of heaven and home. THE IRISH DIFFICULTY. 341 I may refer you to the volume recently published by my friend Dr. Todd on the Life of St. Patrick — a work characterized not more by profound research than by the temperate wisdom and the spirit of impartiality with which it has been composed. It conclusively establishes the' fact that our ancient Church existed for several centuries before the English invasion and the Papal intrusion, and that those politicians in England who have recently been: looking out for a programme for their party, and propose to free Ireland from the Church as " a badge of conquest," have by a curious infelicity proscribed the only Institution tliat is emphatically our own ; it was the gift of the King- of kings ; we have it by Divine right. In a celebrated pamphlet published in 1810 by Thomas Moore, our native melodist, and one of the Roman Catholic historians of Ireland, he says that the testimonies cited by Ussher abundantly prove " that to as late a period as the twelfth century the Pope had not exercised a legatine authority in Ireland, nor taken any share in the election of her Bishops or Archbishops." And he adds, that " neither by France nor by Catholic England was the interference bf Rome more effectually excluded than by Ireland herself during the times of her native monarchy." I may also refer to Burke's Works, Vol. VI., p. ^6 (Bohn's Edition). At an early period the Christian religion had been ^embraced and cherished by pious men in Ireland with great zeal, and that led to an extensive adoption of the contemplative life, and to the cultivation of learning and the useful arts. Edmund Burke has observed that " the scheme of Christianity is such that it almost necessitates an attention to many kinds of learning. For the Scripture is by no means an irrelative system of moral and divine truths ; but it stands connected with so many histories, and with the laws, opinions, and manners of so many various sorts of people, and in such different times, that it is altogether impossible to arrive at any tolerable know- ledge of it without having recourse to much exterior 342 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. inquiry. For whicli reason the progress of this religion has always been marked by that of letters." ' Ireland was blessed by the advent of Christianity, and by the learning that is the handmaid of that religion. •' The king's daughter, all glorious within," had " her virgin companions." Science flourished in the seventh and eighth centuries. Then came the Danish invasion and all the desolation of war ; then the destruction of the retreats of learning and of piety. That was followed by civil distrac- tion, ignorance, poverty, and barbarism. The Church degenerated and the State became decomposed, so that a pretext was afforded for the intervention of England to restore civil order and religious life. At that rude period Rome exercised a growing influence over the religious mind of the West. From the Imperial City had come much of the learning that had been pre- served from barbarian spoil. The Papal power was at first used with moderation and sagacity, until it grew into a strength that was difficult to be resisted. Every available instrument was used to increase it. Every turn in the affairs of the countries of Christendom was watched with a view to push forward the Papal power to the utmost. The Papacy was a State as well as a Church : it sought to establish a kingdom emphatically of this world. Its inter- vention in the affairs of Europe is impartially described by the late Bishop Doyle, as quoted by Judge O'Hagan, in a published argument : — " Thus it was that in bad times, in times of turbulence and barbarism, the claims of the Popes to the sovereignty of almost every kingdom in Europe grew up in silence, and were admitted and sanctioned by nearly all the ruling powers. It must be quite obvious that those claims had not their origin in the Gospel, nor in the doctrine of the Catholic. Church, but in the state of society, in the mistaken zeal, or in the ambition of some Popes — a zeal and ambition excited and directed by an insatiable avarice, pride and thirst of power in their followers and dependents." THE IRISH DIFFICULTY. 343 So far then we find that the ancient Church of Ireland was National and not Papal, and that Papal encroachment on the Civil Government was not Scriptural, nor was it in accordance with true Catholic doctrine. We will further find, that the ancient Constitution of England in the Common Law of the land, as well as the Church of the Reformation in the Thirty-seventh Article of Religion, maintains that the King is, under God, Supreme Governor of all estates in the realm, whether they be civil or eccle- siastical. St. Peter himself, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, has admonished us to " submit ourselves to every ordinance of man, for the Lord's sake : whether it be to the king, as supreme." The vindication of that fundamental doctrine of our Church and State has been difficult and costly ; it fills up many an important chapter in history. But it was vital to freedom ; freedom for every class in the community. The monster difficulty of Ireland has been mainly- occasioned by dividing the kingdom against itself That has been done in disregard of the Apostolic injunction. A greater than St. Peter has told us what is the penalty of such division — the fate of a kingdom that becomes so divided. Long before the era of the Reformation there were stringent laws enacted from time to time in England to restrict Papal intervention and prevent encroachment. In the celebrated prosecution of Lalor, by Sir John Davis, for exercising jurisdiction in Ireland, as Vicar-General of the See of Rome, though he was first indicted upon the statute of Elizabeth, that was afterwards abandoned, and he was then indicted upon the old law enacted in the time of Richard II. Dr. O'Connor (himself a Roman Catholic) in his well- known historical address observes— " Lalor was justly prosecuted on the Catholic statute of proemunire, enacted in the Catholic reign of Richard II., for the security of a . Catholic State. He was prosecuted on that statute for ■' 344 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AJSTD LETTERS. ' exercising' jurisdiction within the reafni of Ireland." But • the struggle against foreign interference has not been cbii- ' fined to this kingdom. The celebrated Gallican liberties 'can never be blotted out of European history, and there Is ' not a country in Europe, with the exception of the Roman ' States, in which the right of the civil authority to restrain • Papal interference has not been more or less exercised. England (as Lord Plunket once observed) was pre- ■ doomed to be free. The very first clause in Magna " Charta is — " First, we have granted to God, and by this ' our present Charter have confirmed for us and our heirs • for ever, that the Church of England shall be free, and shall have all her whole rights and liberties inviolable. We have granted also and given to all the freemen of ' our Realm, for us and our heirs for ever, these liberties ' underwriten, to have and to hold to them and their heirs of us and our heirs for ever." '• How, then (it is asked), how is it, that under the Crown — the free Constitution of England — how is it that Ireland should appear so often as an aggrieved complainant, as if she were " let and hindered " in the path of progress, tir ' had come under the spell of a blighting and adverse influ- ence? That is a large question. True it is, Ireland is under the same Crown and the same free Constitution as ' Great Britain ; true it is, there is civil liberty and equality, and religious freedom is secured by that Constitution to ' all creeds and classes. But how remarkable is the contrast between the historical antecedents of the two countries ? The solid foundation of England's prosperity was laid in the work of the Reformation. It was national. It was allied with deep religious feeling in hearts, narrow and exclusive, perhaps, but earnest and resolute. It was asso- 'ciated with that indomitable love of freedom that is an ' instinct of the English people. The policy of Elizabeth, ^- guided by the wisdom of the incomparable Cecil, and sus- ■' tained by the spirit and energy of the nation, upheld the "Queen's- sovereignty over all estates of the realm >• and the THE IRISH DIFFICULTY. 345 Caribnicar Scriptures (and these only) were declared by the Church to be the rule of faith. That was also estab- lished by the State. On those fundamental positions was raised the structure of civil and religious liberty. I have already referred to the parable of the fig-treei. Civil liberty comes in its natural order, as attendant on religious freedom. Niebuhr has observed on the provi- dential course of events in England — the Reformation first, and the Revolution afterwards. The Reformation 'settled the faith of the Church upon the abiding truth of the sure Word of God ; and the Revolution settled the freedom of the State upon the basis of the Protestant Religion. The liberties of England were bound up with ' the imperishable work of the Reformation. How different was the course of events in Ireland ? The Anglo-Norman Church of the English Pale had been "dissociated from Irish sympathies, and by an intermittent 'connivance with the Papacy, was kept up as a political convenience for England. At the time of the Reforma- 'tion, the wrse counsellors of Elizabeth had their attentioh drawn to the anomalous condition of Ireland. The master- spirit was Cecil. There is a State Paper in the first year 'of Elizabeth's reign, corrected in Cecil's hand, in which the '" Lord Deputy is instructed by the Queen, that he and all and every of her council in all their doings and governance, ■should set the Service of Almighty God before their eyes, and ^prefer the same in all cases. They are ordered to use the rites and ceremonies of the service of God, at the best in their houses, which is by law here approved and appointed" and ' Cecil has added in his own hand, "for doing whereof her ' Majesty's will is, that none of them shall be impeached or ■ molested." There is, in October, 1563,3 scheme drawn up for a College to .be erected in Dublin. It is endorsed in Cecil's ■hand. In another State Paper, in 1565, entitled (in the autograph of Cecil), "Advices for ordering of Shan ' O'Neyle," there is the following programme -.-^ ' ' 346 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. " To cause the people to resort to Common Prayer, and to be instructed to understand the articles of their faith and commandments of God, and to place convenient ministers for this purpose in places convenient." " Alas I" (says Mr. Shirley, from whose interesting collection of State Papers on the Church I have made these extracts) " it was much easier to plan such desirable educational schemes, than to carry them into effect, which, indeed, the distracted state of the country rendered absolutely impossible." I believe that to be the plain truth of the matter. No preparation had been made at all suitable for the reception of so great a change. Quite the contrary. A disturbed and divided kingdom convulsed by civil discord and Papal complicity, and the hostile designs of the great Roman Catholic States against England at that period, sufficiendy explain the failure of what was approved by Cecil and advised by Bacon. Ireland was said to be the back-door of England. A careful perusal of the State documents and of the writings of Lord Bacon, has led me to withdraw confidence from Froude's description of the policy of Elizabeth as to the Irish Church. It is too great a subject to discuss minutely at present. My immediate object is to direct attention to this, that the Reformation in Ireland was but limited and partial in its introduction ; it was not (as in England) popular and national ; that the historical antecedents of the country, and also the course of English government, had tended to array much of the national feeling and to excite the energy of the Papal hostility against the movement. The subject is ably explained by Dr. Todd in the work to which I have already referred, and well deserves to be studied by all who desire to understand that important epoch of our national history. I may refer also to Burke's Works, Vol. III., p. 320 ; Vol. VI., p. 36. If the native language had been turned to its true account, and the old domestic Church beyond the English Pale had been induced to return to the faith of the period THE IRISH DIFFICULTY. 347 when the simphcity of the Gospel was not clouded or cor- rupted — if the policy of public instruction, commended by Bacon and Cecil had been patiently and perseveringly pursued, the Pi'otestant religion and domestic government might at last have been made acceptable to the great body of the people. What an amount of difficulty could have been banished for ever by such a course of policy ! There is a remarkable passage in a recent judgment delivered by Mr. Justice Keogh, in the Court of Common Pleas, that deserves to be remembered. " Let it not be supposed," he says, " that by this I mean that then, for the first time, or in the fifteenth or sixteenth century. Protestantism itself existed. I am far from think- ing so, either as to England or elsewhere. According to my notions, he who reads history aright, will find that Protestantism, in its noblest sense, as embodying the struggle against prescriptive authority and ecclesiastical domination, for the liberty of private judgment and free- dom of opinion in matters which should be, of all others, beyond man's control, was almost coeval with Christianity itself." The Reformation was not an innovation, it was a restoration. In 1688 the civil liberty of England was finally settled. It was secured by the eventful struggle that took place in the battle of the Kings on the soil of Ireland. But what for England was the overthrow of a faction, was in Ireland the subjugation of a people. Nearly a century of penal policy afterwards elapsed, before the memorable era of 1782, the next great epoch in Irish history. It is not to revive animosity that I refer to historic facts. I desire to call attention, calmly and impartially, to the relative posi- tion of the two countries, growing out of the course of events, before the period of the Legislative Union. We, of this generation, are not responsible for those events ; but every candid mind is bound to consider them, in order to form a correct estimate of our present position. 348 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. The late Lord Plunket, with characteristic eloquence, said, that " Ireland was conquered into a state of freedom." A greater Irishman — a citizen of this, his native city — one whose name and memory should be enshrined in every Irish heart — our own Edmund Burke, in his memorable speech on conciliation with America, told the Parliament of England, " that it was not EngHsh arms but the English Constitution that conquered Ireland. The benefit of Eng- lish laws and liberties," said he, " was not at first extended to all Ireland. Mark the consequence. English authority and English liberties had exactly the same boundaries. Your standard could never be advanced an inch before your privileges. Sir John Davis shews, beyond a doubt, that the refusal of a general communication of these rights was the true cause why Ireland was five hundred years in subduing." The Constitutional conquest was almost com- plete before Burke died. " What grievance," he asks, " has Ireland, as Ireland, to complain of with regard to Great Britain, unless the protection of the most powerful country upon the earth ?" " Ireland, as Ireland, whether it be taken civilly, constitutionally, or commercially, suffers no griev- ance." He repeatedly referred to the question of separation from England, and stated that it would be fatal to England and utterly ruinous to Ireland. He maintained that any attempt at separation was " a struggle against nature" The course of providential arrangement has brought the two countries together. " By such a separation," said Burke, " Ireland would be the most completely undone country in the world ; the most wretched, the most dis- tracted, and, in the end, the most desolate part of the habitable globe." The Legislative Union, therefore, seems to have fol- lowed as the natural result of the relative position and ■the historical antecedents of the two countries. I have ■adverted to our relative position at the period of the Reformation ; again, at the period of the Revolution ; let me now advert to the time and conditions of the Union. THE IRISH DIFFICULTY. 349 The Roman Catholic was then assured that when the two kingdoms should be incorporated into one, civil privileges might and should be extended to- him, which could not have been granted without distrust, whilst Ireland was a separate State, and the Protestants were in the minority. Those privileges were afterwards conferred by the Imperial Parliament. In an address to the mem- bers of their Church, dated in the year 1830, signed by the twenty-seven Roman Catholic Prelates in Ireland, they say : — " And that Legislature which gave to you, without, reserve, all the privileges you desired, is not that Legislature entitled to your reverence and love ? We trust that your feelings on this subject are in unison with our own, and that a steady attachment to the Constitution and laws of your country, as well as to the person and government of your gracious Sovereign, will be manifest in your entire conduct." " Labour, therefore, in all things to promote the end "Which the Legislature contemplated in passing this Bill for your relief, to wit, the pacification and improvement of Lreland. Let religious discord cease ; let party feuds and civil dissensions be no more heard of ; let rash, unjust, and illegal oaths be not even named amongst you ; and if sowers, of discord or sedition should attempt to trouble your repose, seek for a safeguard against them in the protection afforded by the law." ^ That law, when it is firmly and impartially adminis- tered, is equal to the work of subduing sedition. To use the impressive words of the late Chief Justice Bushe, on a Special Commission in 183 1, when speaking of unlawful combination — " it has never been able to stand against th^ venerable authority of the laws, vigorously and calmly brought to bear upon it." The Protestants of Ireland had been assured that they would occupy under the Union, an improved position. The State, the Church, the Legislature of Ireland were tp be united with the State, the Church, and the Legislature 3 so LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. of England. It was an international treaty, in its very- nature permanent, because on each side there was the giving up of the separate and independent existence of a State, a Legislature, and a National Church. The weaker party could only be effectually secured by the peculiar character of the treaty. It professed to be based upon the union of the two national Churches as the fundamental article of the treaty. They had long before been one in doctrine, discipline, and ceremony, with the same Articles of Religion, the same Ritual, the same Holy Scriptures — the same Supreme Governor, the same relation to the mixed monarchy and to the settled Constitution of Eng- land. In State documents, for centuries before, they had been occasionally described by the collective name of " this Church of England and Ireland." In the injunctions of Edward Vlth, in the English Articles of 1552, in the injunctions of Queen Elizabeth, the collective title is used. The first of the Irish Canons of 1634 (which is said to have been drawn up, under the immediate supervision of Strafford) is entitled, " Of the. agreement of the Church of England and Ireland in the profession of the same Christian Religion." The like description is contained in the body of the Thirty-first Canon. The two Churches — each a branch of the Catholic Church of Christ — constituted, under the Crown of England and Ireland, one Episcopal Church ; but they were two distinct National Churches of the two kingdoms at the time of the Union, and the effect of the Act of Union was to incorporate them into the one National and United Church of England and Ireland. It was a union and incorporation of the two separate establishments, by which the Protestants of Ireland were assured that " they would be identified with the property -and population of the empire, and placed on such a strong and natural foundation, as to be above every apprehension and fear from adverse interest." That Imperial Constitution, under which Her Majesty's THE IRISH DIFFICULTY. 35 1 subjects claim to be civilly equal and religiously free, must now be considered as the guarantee of public order and the charter of the rights and liberties of all classes of the community. Its fundamental article is imbedded in the centre of the Act of Roman Catholic Emancipation, 10 Geo. IV., c. 7, s. 24. Whatever abridges the protection or impairs the legitimate influence of that Constitution, creates a difficulty, and so far as it originates or is adopted in Ireland, is an Irish difficulty. In making the union of the National Churches the basis of the union of the Kingdoms, you will find that the foundation was well and truly laid, in accordance with the soundest views of enlightened policy. Edmund Burke looked to the Church in Ireland " as a great link towards holding fast the connexion of religion with the State and preserving the connexion of England and Ireland." " I wish it well" (he adds), "as the religion of the greater number of the primary land proprietors of the Kingdom, with whom all establishments of Church and State, for strong political reasons, ought, in my opinion, to be warmly connected. I wish it well, because it is more closely combined than any other of the Church systems with the Crown, which is the stay of the mixed Consti- tution — because it is, as things now stand, the sole con- necting political principle between the Constitutions of two independent Kingdoms. I have another and infinitely a stronger reason for wishing it well. It is that, at the present time, I consider it as one of the main pillars of the Christian Religion itself The body and substance of every religion, I regard much more than any of the forms and dogmas of the particular sects. Its fall would leave a great void, which nothing else of which I can form any distinct idea might fill. I respect the Catholic Hierarchy and the Presbyterian Republic. But I know that the hope or the fear of establishing either of them is, in these king- doms equally chimerical, even if I preferred one or the other of them to the Establishment, which certainly I do not." 353 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Such were the views of that profoundly wise, hberal, and patriotic Irishman, who has been well described by Sir James Mackintosh, as "the greatest philosopher in actiorr the world ever saw." No man soared higher into the region of principle ; none descended lower into the region of reality and fact. He was not insensible to the special circumstances and peculiar condition of Ireland ; on the contrary, he accepted them as God's appointment, He sought, in a true philosophic spirit, to conquer nature by obedience — by following her benign guidance, observ- ing her processes and submitting to her laws. There are laws of the moral order of the world as fixed and as imperative as those by which the world of matter is governed. There are social and economic laws that regu- late all human progress, whether it is impeded by our default, or helped forward by diligence and duty. In keeping of these laws, there is great reward ; and, on the other hand, disregard or disobedience is followed by an appointed penalty. The most difficult of our diffi- culties may turn out to be a penal infliction. But I was directing your attention to the ground and the reason of making the union of the two Nationa^l jChurches the basis of the union of the two kingdoms. It was essential to the completion and the permanence of the union of the two States under the mixed monarchy and the free Constitution of England, as finally secured by the Act of Settlement. The evidence of a Roman Catholic layman, well ac- quainted with Ireland and Irish interests (the late Anthony Richard Blake), delivered on a memorable occasion, was this : — " The Church is connected with the State by an ^indissoluble union, and must, therefore, stand or fall with it." And he added what I am about to read to you : — " The Protestant Church is rooted in the Constitution ; it is established by the fundamental laws of the realm ; it is rendered, as far as the most solemn acts of the Legis^ lature can render any institution, fundamental and perpe- THE IRISH DIFFICULTY. 353 tual ; it is so declared by the Act of Union between Great Britain and Ireland. I think it could not now be disturbed without danger to the general securities we possess for liberty, property, and order ; without danger to all the blessings we derive from being under a lawful Government and a free Constitution. Feeling thus, the very conscience which dictates to me a determined adherence to the Roman Catholic Religion, would dictate to me a determined resist- ance to any attempt at subverting the Protestant establish- ment, or wresting from the Church the possessions which the Law has given to it." Such, then, having been the character of the Union, whatever tends to prevent the treaty from being fully realized is a difficulty that ought to be removed. I have stated in Parliament what I still hold it to be a sound opinion : that it is much to be regretted that all the ques-' tions that were involved in the Union, were not closed and settled at the first, and both Protestants and Roman Catholics in Ireland at once put in the position which they' had a right to expect under the arrangement, as citizens of the United Kingdom. I can answer for the Protestants of Ireland, that whatever be the difficulty of making good the explicit assurance given to them, of a complete identity of privilege with their Protestant brethren in England, it is a difficulty which they will gladly help to remove. What- ever be the peculiarities of their condition in Ireland — however we haVe been brought into a position of compara- tive disadvantage, I hold it to be clear and certain, that the destiny of the great Protestant Institutions of the United Kingdom, as now secured (the Church and the Crown), is one and the same in the two countries. The truest Protestant in either country is the stedfast friend of that living progress that is the expression of a healthy energy in society. He will abide by Scriptural truth, and desire to spread its influence ; he will abide by Constitu- ' tional freedom, and preserve it unimpaired. He will not forget that our Church is not only a keeper and a witness A A 354 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. of Holy Writ, but a help meet for a free State that is pledged to be the guardian of the rights and privileges of every loyal subject of the Queen. As part of the National Church of England and Ire- land, the Irish branch has (I freely admit) a difficult and responsible duty to perform in the circumstances in which she is providentially placed. She has to diffuse the equi- ties and reflect the genial influence of the British Con- stitution, with which she is indissolubly connected, and she has to do that public service without any compromise of those higher duties, for the due discharge of which she is directly responsible to her Lord and Master. But there are some great facilities for the performance of her obliga- tions. " Her clergy " (as our eminent countryman, the late Dr. Croly has so eloquently observed), " not too high for the humblest duties, nor too low for the highest offices, with that degree of learning, which without turning them into pedants, renders them associates for the most intel- lectual orders of the community, with that degree of pro- perty which, without rendering them insensible to the necessity of exertion, or burying the desire of honourable distinction in luxurious indolence, yet places them beyond the caprice of congregations craving for novelties in doc- trine — with that principled respect for authority which renders them obedient to the throne, yet with that respect for themselves which places them above being the slaves of power ; the Church of England and Ireland equally exempt from the loose extravagances of fanaticism, and the sullen tyranny which stifles opinion in its birth, gives the broadest field to that of love of freedom and the strongest excitement to that intelligent enquiry, without which the truth of Scripture can seldom be found, and religious liberty never can be secured among men." The aspect of the Church as the National Church, and of her ministers as public servants, is not hidden from the observation of the people in many districts, where in the Rector of the parish the poor man finds a considerate and THE IRISH DIFFICULTY. 355 kindly friend, and the rich man meets an intelligent com- panion. Where the rights of property are not forgotten^ and absenteeism has but ill provided for the claims of the tenantry upon the friendly counsel and the considerate regards of the proprietor, the presence of an educated and kind-hearted minister of Christ, impressed with the highest sense of duty to God and his neighbour, bound by his ordination vow, " to maintain and set forth quietness, peace, and love," and imbued with the sanctifying inilu- ences of family life in a Christian household, is, beyond all question, a benefit (if not a blessing) to all sorts and con- ditions of men around him. Such a man is " a light of the world, holding forth the Word of life." Surrounding darkness can never be a sufficient plea for extinguishing a solitary light. The old customs of Ireland tended to confine the use- ful arts which require skilled labour, and those arts which depend, to a certain extent, on natural genius, to certain races in succession. And although that was sufficient to preserve them from total decay, it was an obstacle to general improvement, and made the people cling tena- ciously to their own old-fashioned ways and habits of life. That Irish peculiarity and the influence of clanship, by which the people were ever led to look for and expect protection and guidance, has made it doubly important to have them brought everywhere, and in every practicable form, under the influences of civilization. I was much pleased to find that in the volume which Lord Brougham has recently published on the British Constitution — the result of early study and an experience almost unequalled for the extent of enlightened and intel- ligent observation — he says : " In Ireland, where the posi- tion of the clergy is exceedingly difficult, from the great preponderance in number of the Roman Catholics and the influence of the priesthood, the good conduct of the clergy is exemplary, although they are almost unavoidably drawn occasionally into party feuds ; but they are a contrast, and 3S6 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. should be an example to their brethern of the Romanist persuasion." I read to you a remarkable extract from the Address of the Roman Catholic Prelates in the year 1830. Ireland had then emerged into the light of the British system. The Union had checked the flow of patriotic feeling. The State policy by which it was followed up, and the agitation that was consequent, tended in a high degree to cherish a spirit of sectarian strife and animosity. War prices kept off for a time a pressure that was gathering; but it is a lesson which it is well for you to keep in con- stant remembrance, that sooner or later men must pay the penalties of crooked courses. In the history of our country, in the history of all human progress, whether it moves forward freely, or with interruptions and back- slidings, there is not one interruption or one retrogression that cannot be referred more or less to ignorance or dis- regard of some discoverable law of the Divine Government of the world. Ireland had been left unprepared (I have pointed out to you how) for the reception of the Reformation. There must be a preparation of the soil for the sowing ; a seed time ; distinct periods of unseen growth, and of ripening into maturity. The errors of centuries had accumulated, so as in a great degree to shut out the light and warmth of truth from Heaven. Civil liberty was afterwards, in a manner, forced upon us, and the energies which freedom gradually released, were in the end desecrated in sectarian strife and internal discord. What followed, notwithstand- ing the authoritative address of the Roman Catholic Pre- lates ? Instead of a diligent and general effort to repair the disruption of the past ; instead of an abjuring of all the ungodly and unlawful courses, so plainly and pithily denounced in that address — courses that have been the main elements of " the Irish difficulty," the monster impediments of progress and prosperity, " the sowers of discord and sedition " were welcomed back to their work of division, " the abomination that maketh desolate," THE IRISH DIFFICULTY. 357 The system of extermination was inaugurated, by which it was Sought with ruthless hand to exhaust the ministry of the National Church, to confiscate her property, and quench the light of her ministrations. Then came the years of organized sedition against constituted authority ; the memorable era of Repeal agitation, quickening the energies of popular passion and trading on popular cre- dulity. Ignorance, improvidence, tenacity of old here- ditary customs and habits, sectarian strife, enmities of race and religion, were all working together under influential guidance, combined in what Burke has described as " a struggle against Nature." God is not mocked. If we sow the wind, we must reap the whirlwind ; if we sow faction, we must reap confusion ; if we sow folly, we must reap deceit. That period of paroxysm had in some degree passed away before the great change of economic policy took place in 1846. Instead of being invigorated by prepara- tion, we were paralysed by strife and division. We had but a limited commerce, few manufactures, a mere fraction of skilled labour ; population multiplied by improvident marriages; farms injudiciously subdivided ; proprietors im- poverished ; tenure complicated ; land clogged with incum- brances ; agriculture pursued as a necessity of life, but scarcely recognised, and still less understood, as a depart- ment in which skill and capital were required. Our land was suddenly stricken with sterility. Protecting duties were withdrawn ; the storm that had been gathering burst upon us with the terrible but the remedial effects of God's messenger in Nature — they always purify, though they often desolate. We were then united to England with her world-wide commerce, her unexhausted resources and unsurpassed skill in manufactures ; her agriculture advanced ; her people self-reliant, intelligent, and industrious ; a country of gra- duated order and regulated freedom. What a contrast to our condition, when we were called on to start with 3S8 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. England in a new career of free commercial competition ? The one country, like an abounding river, sometimes over- flowing, but soon regaining its appointed channel, and holding its course onward, with a living energy. The other like the glacier formed long ago in the cold solitude of an Alpine height, slow and sullen in its descent into the valley, encountered by many an obstruction, carrying with it earthly impurity ; split and shattered in its cheerless . movement, until at last brought under the influences of a , genial temperature and melting agencies, it is released,, drop by drop, from its icy bondage. Now let me ask — What is the lesson to be derived from the foregoing contrast ? It is not that we might have secured as large an amount of prosperity as England, or that we could have freed ourselves from all the disadvan- tages to which we are specially subject. But I wish you to see plainly and clearly, that the difficulty that may be regarded as a chief impediment in the competitive struggle of industrial life, has been, not altogether, but in a great degree, the result of our neglect of duty or oppor- tunity, or our abuse of privilege. The physical order of the world is subject and sub- servient to the moral. All things were made for Him by whom they were made. " The good and perfect and ac- ceptable will of God " is disclosed in the benignant course of nature, and fully revealed in the grace and truth of the Gospel. All is beneficent. To know and to conform to that Divine will, is the key to all progress. In agriculture, in commerce, in manufactures, and in every branch of. lawful industry — in public health, and the various depart- ments of moral, social, and economic science, there are, laws as settled as the earth on which we tread — laws in keeping of which there is a great reward, and with pe-. nalties appointed for ignorance, neglect, or disobedience. These are not local or partial regulations ; they govern our world, and all the movements therein. The remedies for difficulty are to be found in the. THE IRISH DIFFICULTY. 359, acquisition of knowledge and in the performance of duty. We are not to revenge on Government or on society the inflictions which we have brought down upon ourselves. No Government, no power of Parliament, can repeal or modify one provision in that code which God has stereo- typed. To struggle against laws that are the expression of the Divine will, is a hopeless, if not a sinful, effort. To study and submit — to know and to apply — to see wherein our strength and our capabilities consist — to accommodate ourselves to the conditions of the age in which we live, and the circumstances in which we are placed — is at once our wisdom and our duty. We have a long lee-way to pull up ; but if we read the past faithfully, we may enter on the future hopefully. There is a proverb, that I learned in the North in my younger days — " a stout heart to a stiff hill." There is no real force- of character to be found, no proper self-respect can exist, where the moral element is deficient or depreciated ; there cannot be a healthy public opinion without general intelligence and moral liberty. We are, I admit, sometimes ungenerously and (I would add) unwisely dealt • with by English journals, in their wholesale and indiscriminate sneers and censures. There are amongst us those who are proudly conscious of the injustice of that treatment. We are burthened with the entire pressure of what ought to be diffused over past centuries of English policy and past periods of Irish strife. But on the other hand, we have not, as a people, acquired that conscious self-respect and manly self-reliance that always command the respect of others. We have not mutual confidence ; we are wanting in true patriotic feeling ; we have not a protective public opinion, founded on moral manliness and cultivated intel- ligence. We busy ourselves so much about the opinions of our neighbour, that we sometimes overlook our own practical duties. We are more occupied about our con- tentious differences than in an honest effort at united action for the common good of the country. 360 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Look at the matter plainly. What real impediment is there in the way of our advancing in the path of such prosperity as is allotted to our climate and soil, and to the^ capabilities of our people ? I have gone over the evidence given before Colonel Dunne's Committee, in the last Session of Parliament, the most recent repository of Irish grievances. The pressure of taxation, the effect of absenteeism, the imperfect drain- age of land, the flux of emigration, the depression caused, l^y three bad seasons, the changes going on in the small farm system and in the uses of land, and the stingy expen- diture of public money in Ireland as compared with the profuse outlay in England — these, I think, constitute in the main, the sum and substance of Irish complaint. I do not say that it is exact, nor do I say that it is exhaustive. But what is the good of moaning over grievances ? We get up deputations, but what is their value ? " Behold, we know not anything ; I can but trust that good shall fall At last— far off— at last, to all, And every winter change to spring. " So runs my dream ; but what am I ? An infant crying in the night ; An infant crying for the light ; And with no language but a cry." Nearly three hundred years ago Lord Bacon made this profound and noble appeal : — " And surely when I set before me the- condition of these times, from the height of men's wits ; the excellent monuments of ancient writers, which as so many great lights shine before us : the Art of Printing, the traversed bosom of the pcean and the world ; the leisure wherewith the civilized world abounds, and the inseparable quality that attends time itself, which is ever more and more to disclose truth ; I cannot but be raised to the persuasion that the learning of this third period of time, blessed beyond former times by sacred and divinely inspired Religion, will far surpass the learning of Greece THE IRISH DIFFICULTY.. 36I and Rome ; if men will but' well and wisely know their ' own strength and weakness, and instead of tearing and rending one. another with contradictions, and in a civil rage bearing arms and waging war against themselves, will conclude a peace, and with joint forces direct their strength against Nature herself, and take her high towers and dis- mantle her fortified holds, and thus enlarge the borders of. man's. dominions, sjo far as Almighty God of His goodness shall permit." To this elevating and spirit-stirring appeal to man, Dugald Stewart has appended a wise annotation, to pre- vent misapprehension of the import of the figurative expressions: "According to Bacon himself, the only way of subduing nature is by studying and obeying her laws — a maxim which will be found to hold equally true when ap- plied to the moral and to the material world, and which might form the text of a volume on the subject of Political Economy." Difficulties would vanish like the morning cloud, if we were once resolved to secure prosperity by such a course of wisdom in practical life, as Bacon has here commended to man as the minister and interpreter of nature ? Young men of this Association, let me add one word emphatically to you before I close. Let me press upon . you, as the hope of the rising generation, the sin of every form of strife that tends to divide your country against itself I have not sought to entangle you in any of the controverted questions on which difference of opinion pre- -' vails, nor have I offered a specific solution of any. I have thought it more for your moral benefit, to suggest prin-. ciples by which you should be guided in forming your own . unbiassed and independent judgments. Above all, I have . sought to impress you with an abhorrence of every form of factious strife and division. I have told you to be self-reliant. Be so, in humble dependence on God, and not unmindful of your duty to your neighbour. " The, thing to be lamented " (says Butler) 362 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. " IS not that men have so great a regard to their own good or interest in the present world, for they have not enough ; but that they have so little to the good of others. And this seems plainly owing to their being so much engaged in the gratification of particular passions unfriendly to benevo- lence, and which happen to be most prevalent in them, much more than to self-love." Our blessed Lord, in one of the most beautiful of His paralbles, has reminded us "That we have all of us, one human heart." He has taught us that alien race and hostile creed neither quench nor repel " the charity that suffereth long and is kind." " The charities that soothe, and heal, and bless, Are scattered at the feet of man, like flowers. The generous inclination, the just rule, Kind wishes and good actions and pure thoughts — No mystery is here." Such are the peaceable fruits of our common Chris- tianity^ The Dean of Westminster has suggested in his Lectures on the Apostolic Age, that we have had the St. Peter epoch of the Church in its passage out of Judaism until it settled down into an organized Christian system ; then the Pauline period, in which was fought the fight of faith that triumphed in the Reformation. The next period is that of love, 'the work of Christian faith. He happily associates this period with the name of the beloved Disciple. It is the want — it is the work of the age in which we live, abounding as it does in discovery — in the comforts and- conveniences of life — in the many conquests of nature; an age of free and rapid intercourse, and of the increase and advancement of knowledge. It is emphatically the time to bring the pure principles and the Divine energy of Christianity to bear (as much as . THE IRISH DIFFICULTY. 363 in our power) on the working of society ; in the household, in the association, in all the actions and the intercourse of our daily life. Let heresies of duty be regarded as not less opposed to the Divine rule of life, than heresies of opinion to the Divine rule of faith. Above all, remember that the highest subject for your understanding — the noblest object of your affections — He, in whom the Divine and the human meet in the fulness of a mysterious perfec- tion, our Great Exemplar triumphant over every difficulty, to whom " all power is given in Heaven and in earth" — " King of kings, and Lord of lords,"— the greatest and mightiest of beings — " was the gentlest, and the kindest ' and the best." OPENING ADDRESS At the beginning of the Second Session of the Afternoon Lectures on Literature and Art, April, i86f. THE volume of Lectures on Literature which were delivered in the session of the last year, is the appro- priate prologue to the course for the present session. The research and the genius which these lectures exhibit have been much appreciated. It was, however, thought that it might be acceptable, at the opening of a new session, to have some general view presented of the design of the Lectures, and to have atten- tion directed to the opportunity for the thoughtful of both sexes, to hear from some of our distinguished professors and their associates, suggestive lessons drawn from the refreshing sources of literature. The programme of this year has been extended to Art, and the course includes the labours of constructive and imitative genius. These are worthy of being placed with the finer creations of poetry. Man is the minister and the interpreter of Nature. But what is Nature that he is appointed to interpret ? Is it merely that outer world of matter — that physical order of things, regulated by laws which we can collect by patient and philosophic induction ? Or does it not include a kingdom within — " the human heart by which we live, its tenderness, its joys and fears"? This to interpret is the privilege of man, and it gives to literature a heavenly and a human mission. I speak of literature in all its catholicity, without separating it into secular and sacred. It is (I have OPENING ADDRESS.: AFTERNOON LECTURES. 36-5 sometimes thought) a fertile source of moral mistake, to place what is called ^^ secular" in such a contrast with what is called ^^ religious" as to suggest contradiction, and in some degree to stamp the former as the currency of unbe- lief. In the same spirit, time is contrasted with eternity, as if the one was but a passing shadow, and the other an enduring reality — in forgetfulness that to all of us time is the very part of eternity that is eminently and vitally real. It is that portion in which everything that elevates the mind and refines the feelings ; that expands the affectiotis and puts kindliness in the heart ; everything that deepens and widens sympathy, acts permanently on man as ah immortal being. We cannot interpret truly the world without and the world within — we cannot trace the analogies, the inwarcl connection, the secret harmonies and unity of the whole, without cultivating faculties which rank among the mys- teries of our being. Of these, imagination has been de- signed to exercise a powerful influence, and it seems to have been given for a purpose that has not been sufficiently considered in the comprehensive work of Education. To this faculty, literature and art in their highest achievements must appeal ; on its enlightened culture they are mainly dependent. The history of man, and the hopes which have cheered him onward in his progress, point out how " the ideal " is adapted to sustain and to elevate. The faculty by whose intervention the heart and spirit of man have been thus influenced, cannot be safely regarded as of inferior importance ; it cannot be neglected without obvious peril : " There lives No faculty within us, which the soul Can spare, and humblest earthly weal demands, For dignity not placed within her reach. Zealous co-operation of all means Given or acquired, to raise us from the mire And liberate our hearts from low pursuits." These were the words of the gentle poet who, as Dean Alford has happily said, "has taught us many feelings 366 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. which we knew not that we had, or which, if we knew, we were ashamed to own." His pure and peaceable wisdom has instructed us to look for the value of things in their inward realities, and not in their mere outward displays, which we are too apt to look upon — *' Unrectified, unguided, unsustained. By God-like insight 1" The minister of Nature must be submissive and pa- tient ; the interpreter, intuitive and enlightened, bringing the creative energies of his own spirit to bear on all that comes under his observation. He will find that the book of Nature and the book of Revelation, with the whole his- tory of man between, are but integral and cohereut parts of one comprehensive whole. Lord Bacon hjis observed, that " Poesy seems to bestow upon human nature those things which history denies to it, and to satisfy the mind with the shadows of things when the substance cannot be obtained. For if the matter be attentively considered, a sound argument may be drawn from poesy to show that there is agreeable to the spirit of man a more ample great- ness, a more perfect order, and a more beautiful variety, than it can anywhere (since the Fall) find in nature, whence it may be fairly thought to partake somewhat of a divine nature." We find that " the ideal " attends upon the out- ward and the actual to give it a truer significance, and, as it were, a moral finish : " Nothing resting in its own completeness Can have worth or beauty ; but alone Because it leads and tends to further sweetness. Fuller, higher, deeper than its own." The fine thought of Bacon reappears in a suggestive sentence of Hooker : " All things besides, God excepted, are somewhat in possibility, which as yet they are not in act." True it is, that one example (and one only) stands out in all history without a parallel, the perfect embodi- ment of an ideal transcending all our conceptions, in which, the Divine and the human meet in the fulness of perfection; OPENING ADDRESS : AFTERNOON LECTURES. 367 the highest subject for the understanding — the noblest object of the affections. By the aid of the imaginative faculty we gain an in- crease of power over nature ; we are the better enabled to enter upon the study of human life and to interpret the hearts of men. And we may also be enabled more vividly to apprehend and be the more intensely impressed by the character of our Great Exemplar, in the fulness of its his- toric reality and its heavenly beauty. It was not for the purpose of raising the selfish affections of hope or fear that the imagination would seem to have been designed ; it was given not to encourage us in idealizing the future, but that we might spiritualise the present, and, above all, to influ- ence those affections of our nature which find their com- pleteness and satisfaction in the love of God. Literature then, in its true conception, has a high moral element. The poet descends and lives beneath the surface of life, and in his reading of its outward form, he must have spiritual discernment as well as creative power. Historic insight is another form of the power of interpretation ; an ■ intuitive perception into the nature of man, the purposes of society, and the relation of things. History belongs to literature. The delicate appreciation of character, the exhibiting of the movements of the inner life of humanity, the presenting to the mind and heart such adequate and distinct concep- tions as are worthy of being called " philosophy teaching by examples," the embodiment of the real in the language of fiction, the lesson of truth in the legend, the symbol or the representative fact — this it is that has placed history by the side of poetry. The historian and the poet deal with man in his moral and social relations. They increase the common stock of imperishable truth, which is the inherit- ance of the human family, and neither can execute his high functions without the human-heartedness and genial spirit which give life to all literature. The imagination may go to waste in rank luxuriance ; its energy may be exhausted in unreality and exaggera- 368 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. tion ; it will drift, if it is not steered ; it will be occupied with evil if it is not exercised in good. Nature abhors a vacuum. Can we doubt then that this faculty was intended ' to be responsibly cultivated ? Burke, with his characteristic wisdom, has observed, that however impatient of control or impulsive in its infancy, " imagination cannot be usefully ■ exercised without a stock of knowledge, and that the ac- tive faculties of man are at first employed in selecting and rejecting materials for that stock." It is of paramont im- portance that we should learn to read to understand and appreciate the beauty and order of the world around us ; that we should study the workings of the human heart ; the present in the light of the past, and the future in the light of both. To know — to think — to feel — to act — are the preroga- tives of our nature ; literature keeps these prominently before us as functions of our daily life. There is an aspect of modern literature which may not be uninteresting or unprofitable to notice, and it may sug- gest topics which deserve a more critical treatment than I can attempt to give on this occasion. I allude to the influ- ence that has been exercised by the female writers who have shed a lustre upon the literature of the nineteenth century. We have had Woman sketched by our greatest poets, from Shakespeare to Tennyson, but woman's account of Woman must be her own revelation. The song of the Troubadour, the romance of Chivalry, and many a tale has told of woman's love and woman's devotion ; but we must have in her own living words, the sympathy, the tender- ness, the self-sacrifice of her nature ; the weakness that is strong, the gentleness that is earnest ; the intensity of emotion ; the quick and delicate perception of the true and right that is peculiarly her own. If woman in her distinctiveness has an appropriate place in the economy of human life, she should also have an appropriate place in literature, which is the expression of life in its reality and completeness. I cannot better fortify what. I have suggested as to the moral value of literature, OPENING ADDRESS : AFTERNOON LECTURES. ^6§ than by calling attention to the acknowledged fact, that in its progress it has opened a place for woman to come for^ ward as an interpreter of the heart which throbs in the inner life of that humanity in which she shares and suffers by the law of her being. She is a help meet for man in the household, for the training of the young and tender, and in. all the offices that sanctify human affection; meet in the intercourse of life, to refine and chasten feeling; meet in both, to give to humanity its designed complete- ness. Therefore she has her proper sphere in literature, the character of which she has helped to purify and exalt in its leading departments. It might have the air of pedantry, if I were to parade a, list of names. But there is one much to be remembered — ~ one whom I had the privilege of knowing, though but for a season — I allude to the late Elizabeth Barrett Browning.' To her, literature is deeply indebted. In one of her early: poems (" The Drama of Exile ") she has given in words of truth and tenderness a portraiture of woman — woman suf-^ fering and rejoicing ; with blessing in her tears, strength in her weakness, peace in her conflict, and triumph in her submission. She has taken a wide survey, with a boldness, of imagination that makes it difficult at times to follow her ; but there are passages of exquisite beauty, which speak in the truest idiom of the heart. One extract may here suffice : — " Something thou hast to bear through womanhood. Peculiar suffering answering to the sin : Some pang paid down for each new human life. Some weariness in guarding such a life : Some coldness from the guarded ; some mistrust From those thou hast too well served — from those beloved Too loyally, some treason Thy love Shall chant itself, its own beatitudes After its own life working. A child's kiss Set on thy sighing lips shall make thee glad ; A poor man served by thee, shall make thee rich ; A sick man helped by thee, shall make thee strong. Thou shalt be served thyself by every sense Of service which thou renderest.' B B 370 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. It is somewhat more than three years since I saw her for the last time : " A being breathing thoughtful breath, A traveller between life and death ; A perfect woman nobly planned To warn, to comfort, and command." She lay weak and wasted, in the subdued softness of a Roman sunset ; her eye sparkling with genius and her voice trembling with emotion, as she pleaded the cause of her loved Italy. It was the cause in which she took an interest that never abated until the day of her death. In words of wisdom she pointed to the moral aspect of events then passing ; she expressed her abiding faith in the wisdom and goodness of God, and her undying hope of human progress. Nor can I forget the lofty spirit in which she ended with reflections on the responsibilities of public men and the sacred rights of humanity committed to their charge. The light of declining day, as it melted into the shades of evening, solemnized the scene which I have vividly before me : the setting sun — the sinking life ; his softened splendour — her chastened spirit ; the fair promise of a morning, bathed in brighter sunshine — the better pro- mise from above — " Daughter of genius ! bright shall be Thy morrow of eternity." It seems to be generally admitted, that in the literature of novels woman has been peculiarly successful. It is her distinctive excellence to take notice of the smaller incidents of life in their natural occurrence and their natural connec- tion. Of these, after all, much, very much, of the interest of life is made up. Literature that searches into the inner workings of humanity cannot be complete without the con- tributions of such an interpreter. The household facts, the variety of circumstances which are linked together in the order of Providence, are more vividly observed by woman, with her tender nature, her delicate perception, and her OPENING ADDRESS: AFTERNOON LECTURES. 37 1 peculiar instinct. Her opportunities bring under notice the home department of life, and quick sympathy and purity of feeling enable her to give the ideal finish to the fiction of the novel. It has been observed, that woman studies character in its bearing upon the happiness or unhappiness of others. There are cases in which it is difficult to discover any special or distinctive characteristic of the sex of the author. Some female writers exhibit qualities which we would have expected to find in males only. On the other hand, feminine qualities are to be found in eminent male authors, in some remarkable instances. There is perhaps a peculiar excellence and a peculiar deficiency connected with the respective characteristics and conditions of each sex. The progress of society and the benign influence of Christianity have been bringing woman back to the posi- tion from which she had been displaced, and as we advance towards " the times of the restitution of all things," woman gradually regains her place and office as a help meet for man. This is the case in modern literature. Exceptional instances occur (as I have suggested) in which contribu- tions to literature have been made which have not the special stamp of male or female, but may be simply and accurately described as human; yet we should not over- look the broad distinctive characteristics, the generic differences ; we should not encourage imitation or rivalry, nor induce the assumption of independence that might only foster jealousy and contempt. There is much that peculiarly belongs to woman to reveal — much that her nature and the opportunities of her position enable her best to know, and most to feel. When this is given as her own experience of life, and especially when it is her own interpretation of a woman's heart, she takes up a position and she has a province in literature which cannot be called in question. There is in literature (as in other things) a division of 372 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. labour, by which the work as a whole is profitably con- ducted. But in assigning to woman what seems to be a somewhat limited province in literature, I am far from seeking to impose a like limitation on her studies. " We wish" (said the late Mrs. Jameson, and this excellent lady had a right to demand attention), " we wish to have some higher kinds of industrial, professional, and artistic training more freely accessible to women. We wish to have some share, however small, in the advantages which most of our large well-endowed public institutions extend to men only. As I am sure men have no reason to fear women as their rivals, so I hope women will in all noble studies be allowed henceforth to be their associates and companions." This in some degree represents the laudable and en- lightened feeling with which these Lectures have been founded, and the generous response of several of our dis- tinguished Professors, who have come from their Colleges to give you the ripe results of their learning, the mellow fruit of literature, cultivated by native genius. If I have taken a correct view of the true character of literature, you will understand why it appeals to every nation and each successive age, to male and female. It is their testimony to the truth of life — the interpretation of man; that is, of collective and complete humanity. Litera- ture may exhibit the deep impress of nationality, the dis- tinctive characteristics of sex, or lineaments individual andr peculiar. Like the light of heaven, radiated and reflected from surrounding objects, it is not a mosaic of fragments, but an assemblage of colours, in themselves distinct, which in and by their intimate coalescence animate and cheer the world. The scattered rays of truth converge from every, quarter. It is in the combined effect of the whole that we are to seek for the profitable result, to which it may have been the . privilege of any to have contributed, and by which it should-. be the privilege of all to be instructed. The recent success of female authors has been accom- OPENING ADDRESS : AFTERNOON LECTURES. 373 panied by a remarkable movement in social reformation, ■ which has been greatly advanced by the excellence of woman's teaching and the influence of woman's example. She has faithfully pourtrayed character in its bearing on human happiness and misery ; she has shown the healing power of sympathy, the moral and mysterious action of heart on heart. Our own Goldsmith, with the tenderness and simplicity of his genial nature, had long ago suggested how evil might be overcome with good. In this respect, indeed, we may trace in him and may observe in Dickens the quick and delicate perception of the unequal pressure to be found in life, with its attendant ills and sorrows, which ' sympathy can mitigate, and the charity which " suffereth long, and is kind " may lighten, if not remove. So far they have excellencies in common with female writers who have been distinguished in modern literature, and have adorned our human nature. Woman fails in the literature of imitation : she was not designed for a copyist. She fails in the literature of rivalry : she was intended to be the companion, not the competitor of man. She succeeds in literature that is in harmony with her nature — a literature of gentle influence, of kindly na- tural instruction ; the instruction of pure and tender feeling ; the instruction which is gradually unfolded in exhibiting the growth of character under the influence of events, which in the moral economy and by the discipline of life mould and mature an undying personality. This literature will gain by every fresh endeavour to be more true to nature ; not indifferent to the moral interests of man, for it must never underrate their value ; but it must not forget that it is not more perilous to make vice attractive, than to make virtue nauseous. Moral platitudes or vapid sentiment, commonplaces threadbare and conventional, without hfe or interest, never influence living thinking men. The greatest of moralists has warned us of the danger of " going over theories of virtue in one's thoughts, talking well and drawing fine pictures oi it ; that this may harden 374 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. the mind and render it gradually more insensible to all ; moral considerations." It is a lesson of wisdom faithfully to exhibit man, not under the supposed influence of mere selfish passions, or governed by cold calculations of interest or utility, but with the natural affections which God has given him — affections to be nurtured by the charities and chastened by the discipline of life. Our intercourse in society, our whole treatment of human nature, may be modified by the view which we take of the motives by which that nature is influenced. It is worthy to be remem- bered, that the human affections do not come forth at command ; they are called out by their appropriate objects, around which they entwine themselves and grow after a law of their own. To exhibit this law in operation is a high function of a true literature. Nor is it merely to give a pho- tograph — we must have a painting, in which " the ideal " of the artist has a noble office to discharge. Psychology, . moral, mental, and physical science — in truth, whatever bears on the life, the duty, or the destiny of man — may . have an influence to exercise on the author's work. Litera- ture grows with the growth of truth, with the interpretation • of nature. It would be more than interesting to explore the sources and to follow the tributary streams ; to notice where they have been diverted or obstructed ; to show how the general advance of knowledge, and the mild wisdom of' thoughtful men, have given to literature a truer direction. I merely advert to the excellence of the delicate perception and nice delineation of character, and of its natural growth under the normal influences of life — an excellence for which we are mainly indebted to the accomplished female authors by whom our modern literature has been purified and adorned. There are those indeed who grovel in sensation inci- dent, or mawkish sentimentality ; others who exhaust their energy in masculine imitation, and in their disobedience to nature they have not prevailed ; they are non-natural inter- ; preters. They have neither part nor lot in the matter with , OPENING ADDRESS: AFTERNOON LECTURES. 375 those who have nobly won their laurels in literature ; who have enriched it with pure thought, tender feeling, healthy- morality, and chaste expression. Nor is the last of small importance. Language should be exact and elegant. A power is gained when we have language so at command, that we can use it with ease in the natural and harmonious expression of thought and feeling. To the female, this is especially important, on account of the influence which belongs to the mother's teaching. This it is that blends one generation with another, and it seals the importance of having woman familiar with literature that is true to nature and rich in expression. In the Lectures of the last session there was much to encourage the study of such literature. The admirable reading on Shakespeare has suggested to me that it might be followed up by a course that would lead to a complete study of the great poet of human nature. A fresh delight has already been imparted by the learned and excellent Professor, and he might confer a further boon that would (I am sure) be very gratefully acknowledged. Mrs. Jameson has left a memorial of woman's study and woman's appre- ciation of Shakespeare. Mr. Blewitt, the respected and efficient Secretary of the Literary Fund Association, has furnished me with one or two anecdotes' about the works of Shakespeare, which I will give you in his own words. " During my residence in Rome, I was on terms of friendship with the late celebrated Cardinal Mezzofanti, whom Lord Byron has so graphically described as a Briareus of languages, adding that ' parbleu, he beat me in my own idiom.' I believe that when he died, the Cardinal spoke at least fifty languages. In one of our conversations on English literature, he mentioned his admiration of Milton and Shakespeare, and said that he had never possessed a copy of the latter. I always carried with me in my travels a copy of Tilt's beautiful pocket edition, illustrated by' ^76 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Stothard and Harvey, and bound by Charles Lewis, the facile princeps of English binders. I showed him this copy, and he was so delighted with it I begged him to accept it. A short time afterwards, being about to visit Naples, I called to take leave of him, when his sister said that the Pope (Gregory XVI.) had that morning sent for him very early to go to the Vatican and spend the day with him. At the same time she said : ' I don't think I shall shake hands with you to-day, for I am very angry with you. You have given my brother a book, and he has taken into his bedroom all the pieces of candle he could find, and I am, quite sure he is reading that book half the night' " He mentions another anecdote of having gone to see, one of the finest works of Albert Dlirer at Nuremberg ; a young lady, the daughter of the proprietor, acted as, cicerone. In reply to a remark upon the picture, in Ger- man, she answered (writes Mr. Blewitt) in such beautiful, English, that I concluded at once that she had been 'v\ England. She said, however, that she had never been out of Germany ; and on my complimenting her on her com- mand of our language, she said that she had been induced, to acquire it, by the desire to read Shakespeare in the language in which he wrote. , The literature of Germany has not been overlooked in our programme. It will be duly honoured by the genius and learning of my friend Dr. Anster. We can scarcely be familiar with literature, and not be; friendly to art. " There .are ideas," says Butler, " which we express by the words — order, harmony, proportion, beauty . — the furthest removed from anything sensual. Now whatr is there in these intellectual images, forms, or ideas, which, begets that approbation, love, delight, and even rapture which is seen in some persons' faces, upon having these, objects present to their minds ? ' Mere enthusiasm 1' Be it what it will, there are objects, works of nature and of art,, which all mankind have delight from, quite distinct from their affording gratification to sensual appetites, and from. OPENING ADDRESS : AFTERNOON LECTURES. 377 quite another view of them, than as being for their interest and further advantage. The faculties from which we are capable of these pleasures, and the pleasures themselves, are as natural, and as much to be accounted for, as any sensual appetite whatsoever, and the pleasure from its; gratification." It would be a cold and cheerless world, if order and' beauty, taste and feeling — if (in a word) all the grace and poetry of life were to be exchanged for a selfish and ma- terial grossness. The laws of beauty and order are of God's appointment. The application of these laws con-: stitutes art. There is a desire implanted in man to symbolize the spiritual, to embody and express the ideal, in outward and' visible representation. The artist interprets this desire. His office is to suggest an unseen perfection. He must purify and elevate his own spirit, for (as Kingsley has well said) " It is only the pure soul that will perceive purity ; the noble soul, nobility ; the beautiful soul, beauty, whether in earth or in heaven itself" The help of art as a handmaid to literature is strikingly shown in the use of wood-engraving in the illustration of books of natural history and science. The perfection tO; which this has been brought, has been appreciated by scientific travellers. The author can incorporate his figures with the text in a volume that is portable and easy of reference. This could not be done with copper-plate illus- trations. When Mr. Bates undertook his exploration of. the Amazon region in South America, one of the few works ; of reference he took with him, was the " Pictorial Museum , of Animated Nature," written by the late William Charles Linnaeus Martin. The Indians, to whom he showed the book, recognised the native animals from the accurate figures in it. But the artist is not merely a copyist ; there are depart- ments of art in which there is scope for the finest cultiva- tion of true genius. In these, art deals with generic forms 378 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. to which all that is personal, local, or transient, must be subordinated. The ideal must be completed within, before it can receive its outward expression. Barry (to whom Edmund Burke addressed the memorable letters) is said to have been repulsive in his exterior, and coarse and vehement in his language. " But " (says Isaac D'Israeli) " a pious and learned lady, who had felt intolerable uneasi- ness in his presence, did not, however, leave this man of genius that very evening without an impression that she never had heard so divine a man in her life. The conver- sation happening to turn on that principle of benevolence which pervades Christianity, and on the meekness of the Founder, it gave Barry an opportunity of opening on the character of Jesus with that copiousness of heart and mind which, once heard, could never be forgotten. That artist indeed had long in his meditation an ideal head of Christ, which he was always talking of executing. ' It is here,' he would say, striking his head. That which baffled Leonardo da Vinci, who left his Christ headless, having exhausted his creative faculties among the Apostles, his imaginative picture of the mysterious union of the Divine and human nature, never ceased (even when conversing) to haunt the reveries of Barry." The embodiment of art can only be compared generally with that of language. In both there should be a faithful rendering of minute details, but in due subordination to general truth. There are in both higher qualities of ex- pression, the suggestion of secondary meaning, and the appeal to the deep feelings within, by which we are brought under the wand of the artist or the author. It was a happy thought to introduce art into the pro- gramme of these Lectures. Our people have exhibited many striking proofs of excellence in works of design and artistic skill. In ornamental art, Ireland has an historic reputation. It is the excellence of decoration that it should be so modulated as not to interfere with the form and out- line of the object. In no country has this quality attained OPENING ADDRESS : AFTERNOON LECTURES. 379 the perfection which it reached in Ireland. The carvings and ornament of the rudest stone-work were the richest and fullest, and at the same time the most submissive to the form designed by the author for the subject to be ornamented. That ornament should appear to grow na- turally out of structure is the simple and beautiful lesson of Nature, ever bland and maternal, teeming with instruc- tion that is infinite in its variety and unsearchable in wisdom. I observe that in the programme for this session, archi- tecture has found an accomplished exponent in my friend Mr. Samuel Ferguson. I can leave this interesting subject in his safe keeping. But I must here suggest, that as by the laudable efforts and munificence of the Lord Chancellor, a National Gallery has been founded, and already richly supplied, it is but natural to expect that we may have some competent lecturer to conduct us into the attractive do- mains of painting and sculpture. It may be asked — nay, it has been asked — is it meant to set up literature and art to reform and renovate mankind ? Is revealed religion and all its appointed agencies to be ignored or displaced ? Far from it. For myself I will say I would not lend my humble sanction to any association, or to any scheme, however specious, that would displace or dishonour that religion which is enshrined in the hearts of the best and wisest of men. But the circle of knowledge has a circumference as well as a centre ; the firmament lit up with stars, " the poetry of Heaven, a mystery and a beauty," speaks a language as universal as that of the sun in his strength. In all that is around me in creation, I can trace the wisdom and the goodness of God ; and in the study of the laws by which Nature is governed, of the motives by which man is influenced, and the ways in which character is moulded, I find an incentive to unceasing diligence, and also an inducement to pious submission. The laws of the moral and the material world are ordered for the discipline and the happiness of man; and the 38o LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. search for these laws, in order to form our habits and mature our character, opens out that hopeful course of human progress, in which man is invited to be a fellow- worker with God. There is a marvellous oneness and consistency in truth — a harmony that will be disclosed in proportion as man is the more dutiful to God and obedient to Nature. In the history of man we can trace a continuous though unequal' progress ; and there is not a reverse that may not be referred to ignorance or disregard of some discoverable or revealed law of the Divine economy. Our own admirable literature has disclosed to us har- monies of nature, man, and heaven, and it has taught us to trace the links of good by which all human things are con- nected. To the sincerely religious, this kindly instruction is peculiarly adapted. Partial and narrow views of God's dispensations, ignorance of the great laws of human asso- ciation, insensibility to influences by which life is pene- trated, may not diminish the depth of religious feeling, but it assuredly contracts the affections of the heart. And on^ the other hand — " Creed and test Vanish before the unreserved embrace Of catholic humanity." It has been beautifully said by one who loved literature with pure and simple affection, " Charity must in its com- prehensiveness embrace everything human, must shed its light upon the just and the unjust, detect the soul of good in things evil, steal rigidity from virtue, and bring into, gentle relief those truths which are of aspect the most benign, and those suggestions and hopes for the erring which are most full of consolation." The works of literature that thus speak to the heart of man, come to us as messengers with food from heaven — " Silent companions of my lonely hour, Friends who can never alter or forsake." OPENING ADDRESS: AFTERNOON LECTURES. 381 They rescue man from the iron grasp of a gross material- ism ; from the fangs of a heartless and a false philosophy. Such literature combines the wholesome teaching with the loving sympathy of a mother. It appeals to the whole complex nature of man, as God has framed it — " fearfully and wonderfully made." In the gradual diffusion of know- ledge, the freer intercourse of nations, and the interchange of present thought and past experience, we are each and all encouraged to be hopeful yet humble, tolerant but truthful. The leaven of truth is seen everywhere fermenting in the whole mass of knowledge ; there is a present confusion and a seeming disturbance ; but is not this the natural ante- cedent of clearness and repose ? Here you are invited to' take a more thoughtful interest in literature and art. You are offered the guidance of learning and experience ; your attention will be judiciously concentrated on select authors, so as to make the study of them profitable, and also plea- sant. There is much of education that must be conducted by ourselves : much that depends on our use of oppor- tunity ; and, so far as the scientific study of literature is concerned, I know no better (for I know no other) oppor- tunity available to many of those whom I have the honour to address. I . have endeavoured to direct your attention to the moral influence of the imagination, its connection with those affections of our nature which are nurtured by what is passing and perishable, but are themselves imperishable as immortaHty. I have pointed out its connection with literature, and I have demanded for literature that it should be judged by its genuine tendencies, by the uses to which we may make it subservient. I have adverted to the immutable laws of beauty, har- mony, and order. There is beauty in form and colour, beauty in the blush of the rose, and greater beauty in the blush of maiden modesty ; a heavenly beauty in all that is pure and chaste and spiritual. " If" (to put the question 382 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. home, in the impressive words of Butler), " if we are con- stituted such sort of creatures as from our very nature to feel certain affections or movements of mind, upon the sight or contemplation of the meanest inanimate part of the creation, for the flowers of the field have their beauty," — and here I may interpolate — " The meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears," — " certainly there must be somewhat due to Himself, the Author and Cause of all things ; there must be some move- ments of mind and heart which correspond to His per- fections, or of which those perfections are the natural object. And that when we are commanded to love the Lord our God with all our heart, and with all our mind, and with all our soul, somewhat more must be meant than merely that we live in hope of rewards or fear of punishments from Him ; somewhat more than this must be intended, though these regards themselves are most just and reason- able, and absolutely necessary to be often recollected in such a world as this." The allegory of Homer, the philosophy of Butler, the sublime and immortal ode of Wordsworth, the choicest lessons of literature and art, point to " the golden chain which has again bound the earth, with all its varied in- terests, to the throne of God." INTRODUCTORY LECTURE ON BUTLER'S ANALOGY. [From Lectures delivered before the Dublin Young Men's Christian Association, during 1861-62.!^ IT is usual for those who, for the first time, visit the city of Rome, to ascend some central elevation, and look around on the principal objects of interest to which their attention will be drawn. The far-famed Seven Hills, the crumbling palace of the Caesars, the majestic Colosseum, and the classic Forum, the triumphal arches of Titus and of Constantine, the graceful Pantheon, the Vatican, and St. Peter's — these will all be noticed — their relative position, and their combined effect. This is the prelude to a careful and repeated visit to each in succession' — an inspection of all that can be found therein to delight or instruct, which is studiously examined in detail. From time to time points of view are discovered from which the outstretched city, surrounded by the solitude of the Campagna, and per- meated by the yellow Tiber, may be seen under different aspects, in the glow of the noon-day sun, and again as he sinks in the west, and sheds a softened splendour on monuments of Imperial and Papal magnificence. The varied view of the whole, the separate inspection of the prominent parts, will be followed up by a panoramic survey from the lofty dome of St. Peter's — when, the mind aroused, the heart enlarged, and the spirit elevated, the 384 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. expanded scene spreads itself on every side, in all the ful- ness of its acknowledged grandeur. In offering myself as a guide to such of you as desire to understand, and are resolved to study, the great work of Bishop Butler, " On the Analogy of Religion to the Constitution and Course of Nature," I have been induced, in accordance with the illus- tration which I have used, to avail myself of this occasion, in order to lay before you, in the first instance, what I take to be the general plan and outline of the work, before we proceed to examine in detail the several component parts of the whole. We are here on a moral eminence. It is the Saturday evening. The business of the week has closed — the bustle of the world is shut out — the Sabbath draws on. The new year has just opened, hallowed by the remembrance of past mercies, and by the hope of future blessings. May our hearts be lifted up in thankfulness and prayer, humbly seeking that the Holy Spirit may be our guide and teacher, and may give to each of us a wise and understanding heart — the spirit of a sound mind ! There is a brief but appropriate sketch of Bishop Butler in the number of your magazine which has just been published; It is desirable that you should read, in addition to this, the excellent memoir which is given in Bishop Fitzgerald's edition of the Analogy. It is well to know the character of the eminent author, and the circumstances under which his great work was prepared for publication. For logical completeness, candour in controversy, cautious moderation, moral thoughtfulness, practical wisdom, and love of truth, Bishop Butler has left in his memorable work " monumen- tum aere perennius." The style is not popular, the reason- ing is often subtle and profound, and cannot be adequately comprehended without a sustained attention and repeated study. With a view the more effectually to answer objec- tions, which had been put forward in his day in order to discredit religion, he meets his opponents on their own ground. He tells us that he argues on their own principles, that is to say, notwithstanding their principles; and he butler's analogy. 385 deelined to "avail himself of abstract principles, which he, himself thought to be true and of the utmost importance, but which he does not make use of in the argument, be- cause they are by others thought to be unintelligible or not true. He adds, that for the purpose of avoiding the use of language formed upon the principles so disputed, he has been obliged to express himself in a manner which will appear strange to such as do not observe a reason for it. The reason and the result are, therefore, to be carefully noted as we read the book. My desire is, to make the, Bishop his own interpreter — to interest you in the diligent study of this volume, and assist you in patiently following the course of the argurnent until you feel that you have, mastered it. You will find the value of this as an exercise of the mind, and the moral effect may, I trust, be found to be an adequate recompense for the labour that will thus be, profitably employed. Some preliminary suggestions may here be given to the student of Butler. His words must have their exact and emphatic meaning given to them ; and his own explanations, to be found in various parts of the work, are the proper glossary by which the meaning may be decisively fixed. It is, moreover, incumbent on the reader to make himself familiar with the treatise as a whole, before he concludes that there is in any part an error or omission. A word will be discovered which has a saving operation, and properly qualifies the argument or, the assertion. Sometimes a sentence will be found which supplies in a fit place the explanation or the statement which removes what otherwise might have been considered a difficulty or a defect elsewhere. Bishop Fitzgerald has given the verbal alterations which the author made in the later editions, and these show with what scrupulous exact- ness and care the language was revised to the last. Every,, word seems to have been weighed, and its place cautiously chosen. The right word was put into the right place. The work itself, as has been observed, was carefully and closely worked up out of twenty years' hard thinking. Single C C 386 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. words, limiting and saving clauses, studiously moderate statements, must be attended to by those who desire to apprehend and appreciate the exact point of the argument and the real purpose of the author. His great object was to repel and overthrow the current objections made to the credibility of religion. He seeks to lay a solid foundation for his argument, in the acknowledged dispensation and course of Providence in the routine of daily life — in matters of fact which are obvious — matters of common experience, and open to the observation of all. Thus descending to a level with his opponents, and arguing on common data which Atheists only could dispute or deny, he sets up the credibility of religion, and then completes his masterly argument by summing up the proper positive evidence by which religion is proved to be true. Let me call your attention to the title of the volume which you may hear of as " Butler's Analogy," — sometimes it is given as " Butler's Analogy of Natural and Revealed Religion." This is likely to mislead. It is " The Analogy of Religion (natural and revealed) to the Constitution and Course of Nature." Religion, which is commonly divided into natural and re- vealed, is compared with that system of Providence which regulates our common daily life. Natural religion is the moral system of the world, discoverable by human reason ; revealed religion is the dispensation of God to man, dis- closed by Divine Revelation. The truths which religion teaches as to our present duties and our future destiny — the position which man occupies in the Divine economy as a moral, immortal, and accountable being — his relation to God — the privileges and obligations incident to this rela- tion — the scheme of religion, its publication, and the proof which God has given of its truth, — these were the materials of a controversy in which speculative difficulties and objec- tions were put forward as sufficient to overthrow the whole system of religion, natural and revealed, as altogether in- credible. Many years had elapsed since Lord Bacon had challenged as a folly the contentious controversies of the butler's analogy. 387 schools of philosophy in their rival theories of physical science. He taught mankind a more excellent way, modestly and patiently to observe the operations and course of nature, and note the sequences in their appointed order. This was the province of man, as the minister and interpreter of nature. This was to be carried on with docility and submission ; for, as he emphatically observes, " that it is no less true in this human kingdom of know- ledge than in God's kingdom of heaven, that no man shall enter into it except he becomes first as a little child." — (3 Vol. 224, Spedd. ed.) " Therefore " (as he says), " from a closer and a purer league between these two faculties, the experimental and the rational, such as has never yet been made, much may be hoped." — (95 Aph. 4 vol., 93.) Much has since been realized. In this spirit of true philosophy. Bishop Butler has proposed to meet speculative objections by practical answers. He assumes as already established by the consideration of final causes, by the abounding evi- dence of the power and wisdom of the Creator which creation supplies, he takes it as admitted " that there is an intelligent Author of Nature." This is all that he postu- lates. He suggests that, instead of indulging in mere hypothesis and speculation, which, on the subject of reli- gion, must be altogether imperfect, as it is unbecoming for such a creature as man, we should turn our thoughts to what we experience to be the conduct of nature with re- spect to intelligent creatures, which may be resolved into general laws or rules of administration, in the same way as many of the laws of nature respecting inanimate matter may be collected from experiments. " Let us compare," he says, " the known constitution and course of things with what is ' said to be ' the moral system of nature ; the acknowledged dispensations of Providence with what reli- gion ' teaches ' us to believe and expect." This comparison brings out the analogy — the resemblance of relations. There is a likeness which we recognise ; the things com- pared may be traced up to the same general laws, and • 388 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. resolved into the same principles of the Divine conduct. We • find a unity of design, which is the source of analogy — a uniformity of operation, which is the source of experience. This unity of design is perceived in the many relations which the material and the moral worlds bear to each other. There is an analogy in the laws by which their phenomena are regulated, and the methods of investigation peculiarly applicable to each. It must, then, be allowed to be just, as Butler observes, "to join abstract reasonings with the observation of facts, and argue from such facts as are known to others that are like them." This is almost > the language of Lord Bacon ; it is altogether in the spirit of the inductive philosophy. The introduction to the " Analogy " may be properly studied in connexion with the 8th chapter of the second part of the treatise in which he explains and defends the use which he has made of the argument from analogy. This mainly consists in refuting objections, in which it is irresistibly convincing. This is the negative use of it, and it makes way for the affirmative proofs and positive arguments by which religion is autho- ritatively established. When employed as a medium of proof, it may authorize a probable conjecture, inviting further examination, or it may materially confirm and fortify an independent proof. We must, therefore, not be disappointed if we find in some parts of the treatise that the argument from analogy, taken by itself, does not seem convincing. This only occurs when it is used as a medium of proof, for it will be found that wherever it is used for its genuine purpose^ — to repel and refute specu-: lative objections — the masterly hand of Butler has laid: prostrate the sophistry and the scepticism which the . enemies of our faith have called to their aid, in support of unbelief In matters which involve our relation to God, there is a Divine and there is a human aspect in which they may be viewed. The former has reference to the character of' God — the reasons and the design of the Divine economy ; butler's analogy. 389 the latter to our own obligations — our proper business in this present life — the connection of our duties with our destiny. Religion, as Butler reminds us, "is a practical thing, and consists in such a determinate course of life as being what there is reason to think is commanded by the Author of Nature, and will, upon the whole, be our happi- ness under His government." The design of this treatise (he says) is not to vindicate the character of God, but to show the obligations of men ; it is not to justify His pro- vidence, but to show what belongs to us to do. It is on this eminently practical view of religion — the doing of God's word, the keeping diligently what He has com- manded, the obedience of faith, which is the proof of love and the purpose of life — on this depends the power of the argument from the analogy of religion to the constitution and course of nature. What is the course of nature in this respect ? In the concerns of our daily life, to enable us to act with a due regard to our temporal interests, we do not ask for mathematical demonstration. The practical question in all cases is, whether the evidence for a course of action be such as, taking in all circumstances, makes the faculty within us, which is the guide and judge of conduct, determine that course of action to be that which we ought to pursue. This is what is called a prac- tical proof; such a proof as will be admitted fully suffi- cient in reason to influence the actions of men who act upon thought and reflection. It is matter of experience that the evidence on which we are naturally induced to act in common matters throughout a very great part of life is doubtful in a high degree. This is a matter of fact Whether, and how far, we ourselves contribute to this doubtfulness is a question which deserves our conscien- tious consideration. Sufficient evidence is afibrded to enable us to act our part in life. We cannot have, we do not demand, overbearing evidence nor conclusive demon- stration ; but we look for that which will satisfy conscience and ought to determine conduct. Should we require 39° LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. another kind of evidence in religion ? Is not the evidence on which we are appointed to act in the affairs of life adapted to our moral nature and sufficient for our moral judgment ; and will not evidence of the like kind be suffi- cient to regulate conduct as the discipline of virtue? Without faith it is impossible to please God — without be- lieving that He is — that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him. This is pre-supposed ; this is to be tested and exercised. Evidence which may fail to satisfy speculative curiosity is sufficient and quite suitable-for the discipline of Christian life. Probability (as Butler remarks) . is the very guide of life. But observe what he means by probability, and how it is distinguished from demonstra- tion. Demonstration admits of no degrees ; its conclusion is not only certain but necessary. Probability, in the proper — not in the popular — sense, admits of every variety of degrees, from the highest moral certainty to the very lowest presumption. A matter is properly said to be pro- bable when it is like some truth or true event — like it in itself, in its evidence, in some more or fewer of its circum- stances ; and this, by the constitution of our nature, is adapted to beget that presumption, opinion, or full convic- tion, which it does necessarily produce in us. Analogy is thus found to be of weight in various degrees towards determining our judgment and our practice. Origen, the great teacher of Alexandria, whose proper name is said to mean the Son of Light, had observed that he who believes the Scripture to have proceeded from Him who is the Author of Nature may well expect to find the same sort of difficulties in it as are found in the constitution of nature. Butler quotes this with marked approval ; and, in the spirit of it, he adds that he who denies the Scriptures to have been from God upon account of these difficulties may, for the very same reason, deny the world to have been formed by Him ; and if there be an analogy or like- ness between that system of things and dispensation of Providence which Revelation informs us. of, and that system butler's analogy. 391 of things and dispensation of Providence wliich experience, together with the reason, informs us oi—i.e., the known course of nature — this is a presumption that the system of rehgion and the course of nature have both the same author and cause, at least so far as to answer objections against the former being from God, drawn from anything which is analogical or similar to what is in the latter, which is acknowledged to be from Him. Identity of authorship, according to Origen, leads us to expect identity of charac- teristics ; and, on the other hand, identity of characteristics, according to Butler, leads us to presume or apprehend identity of authorship. If the authorship of one volume be admitted — of another be disputed or denied, on the ground of opinions or expressions contained in it, which are said to be decisive against the alleged authorship — and if the like opinions and expressions be found in the volume of which the authorship stands confessed, the objection to the identity is refuted — nay more, the presumption that they are from the same author is fortified and every proof confirmed. Butler has taken up the two great volumes of Nature and of Revelation. The authorship of the former is admitted. The style of the Divine authorship is traced throughout both ; like principles, like procedure, like ano- malies and difficulties to be solved in each, like purposes to be answered by these in the discipline of life. The per- plexity of life itself, as disclosed in the book of Nature, disappears when we find in the book of Revelation that it is an institution for eternity, and the speculative objections which tempt men to doubt or deny the truths and facts of Revelation also disappear when we turn to our experi- ence of the course of nature, to the facts of common life. These are subject to the same d priori difficulties ; but we do not allow ourselves to be reasoned out of what we feel, and see, and know. We rely on our consciousness and our common-sense ; the speculative difficulties, what- ever be their abstract or intrinsic value, cannot here pre- vail. If they be false, we must reject them as unfounded ; 392 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. if they be true, we must equally reject them as inappli-' cable. Our nature and condition compel us to treat such objections as if they were false, when we have to act in bur daily life. This is the ground-work of the argument from analogy. The treatise is divided into two parts. In the first part, three leading points are dealt with — first, a future life, in which happiness and misery will be apportioned as reward and punishment, and this apportionment will be regulated according to a moral rule of distributive justice. So far man is shown to be an immortal, moral, and ac- countable being. The first chapter deals with the fact of a future life, and the analogies by which it is rendered f)robable and credible. The second chapter shows that we are under the natural government of God ; that pleasure and pain as reward and punishment follow upon our ac- tions, and that we are enabled to foresee that such will be the consequences of these actions. The third chapter car- ries forward the argument, and shows that we are under the moral government of God, as the righteous governor of the world. This naturally leads to the consideration of the second of the three leading points, namely^the pre- sent life, as a preparatory stage of existence. It is found to be a state of probation, and therefore attended with difficulties and dangers in the temptations by which we are tried and proved. This is the subject of the fourth chapter. It is a state for moral discipline in virtue and piety, in forming habits of active benevolence and passive resignation, and also for the manifestation of character. This is the subject of the fifth chapter. The third leading point is the consideration of the argument against the moral government of God as a fact, and the proof of this fact — an argument based on the doctrine of necessity ; and also, the objection that this moral government is not re- concilable with wisdom and goodness. In the sixth chap- ter the argument of necessity is thoroughly exposed and completely answered. In the seventh the second objection butler's analogy. -393 is overthrown. There is then a short concluding chapter, summing up the whole argument as it has been applied to natural religion. The leading proposition in the first part, that there is a moral governor of the world, and that virtue is His law, is established in two ways — by external and by internal evidence. The former is found in the profession which has been made in all ages and countries ; in the reception of this truth in the first ages ; in traditional evidence that it was taught by a revelation. Thus we have general consent, antiquity, and evidence of a revela- tion to establish the truth of God's righteous government. The internal evidence is found in the reason of the thing ; in the principles of moral liberty and moral fitness ; in the presages of conscience and the moral faculty, and in the distinct natural intimations which are given to us in the constitution and course of nature, and pointed out and reasoned upon in the third chapter. In the second part the author deals with revealed religion. He first considers the general objections against it, then the special objec- tions against it, and then considers the positive evidence in support of its truth ; these he sums up, and clears from objections. The general objections are twofold : first, that before any system of Revelation is proposed, it must be superfluous, because unnecessary ; and next, that it must be incredible, and could not be proved by miraculous attestation. The first of these objections is fully met in the first chapter, and in the second chapter the other objection is disposed of. There is then the further objec- tion against a proposed system of Revelation, either as a system, or a wise and good scheme. The third chapter disposes of the one ; the fourth of the other. The special objections which are made are answered by special analo- gies. There is first the objection founded on the alleged intricacy of means ; next, on the idea of mediation ; and thirdly, on the want of universality. The appointment of a Mediator and Redeemer is nobly vindicated in the fifth chapter, which cannot fail to edify the faithful student. 394 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Objections to this great fundamental truth of Christianity having been scattered and routed, and the other objections to the system of Revelation having been repelled and cleared away, the positive evidence is brought forward with advantage, The direct proofs furnished by miracles and prophecy — the indirect, many and various, by wliich Revelation and the religion which it teaches have been divinely accredited — are then presented with cumulative force and effect. Light is thus sown for the righteous — for those who, in an honest and good heart, keep the Divine Word which they have heard, and bring forth fruit with patience. I have thus given you a cursory sketch of this admirable treatise — the general scope and outline of it — the nature of the argument from analogy, and the general principles on which Butler has brought it to bear upon the great practical subject of religion. We must go through it with patience — may I add, with prayer ? We must take it chapter by chapter, dig deep in the mine for the rich ore which diligent search alone can secure. Criticism has censured Butler as having dealt rather with the credentials than with the contents of Christianity, but I cannot think the censure has been deserved. The avowed object of the work is to relieve religion from objections which were levelled at its credibility; and surely this has been accomplished to the full, so as to leave with- out excuse all who neglect so great salvation as God has offered to man. But, in addition to this, the clear and comprehensive summary of the leading facts and guiding truths of Revelation, the uncompromising advocacy of the great doctrine of the Atonement, the solemn earnestness with which we are reminded of the relation in which we stand to God the Son and God the Holy Spirit, as well as to God the Father, and also reminded of the responsible duties which flow out of these relations — all these satisfy me that he did not shun to declare the whole counsel of God, so far as the plan of his treatise and the course of the argument would fairly admit. He has chosen the method BUTLER S ANALOGY. 395 of St. Paul as his model — to begin on common ground, on a level with those whom he sought to convince. The first part, as an argument against objectors, may be taken as complete for the mere purpose of controversial triumph ; but when we use it for Christian instruction, we must treat it as an integral part of the whole, receiving and reflecting the light which radiates from the second part. When we hear of a reward for the righteous, sounding from the harp of David — ' the great reward in the keeping of the com- mandments ' — we interpret the reward as of grace, not of debt ; we read the inspired intimation in the light of the glorious Gospel of the Redeemer. When we turn to the instructive chapter of the Analogy, on the moral discipline of life, the formation of character by habits and conduct, the connection of our destiny with our duty — we should place it in connection with the great chapter on the Atone- ment. May we not then be led to appreciate more fully the force and truthful power of the words of our blessed Lord, that whosoever cometh to Him, and heareth His sayings, and doeth them, he it is who builds upon a rock — his foundation is secure ? We thus see how the believer, trusting in Christ, taught by the Holy Spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God, by the discipline of life adapted for its moral purposes, may go on from strength to strength ; conduct forming habits, habits fixing cha- racter, and character capacitating for the joy of heaven. And thus the analysis of our moral nature and the moral system of God, and the light thrown upon both by Revela- tion, make clear and consistent what otherwise we could not reconcile — salvation and reward ; the one not of works, the other according to works. The righteous Judge, who freely gives the one, Himself awards the other, in both remembering mercy. Let me then commend this work to your earnest, patient, and prayerful study. It is adapted, under God's blessing, to invigorate your minds and elevate your hearts. Difficulties, whether of belief or of practice, are part of our trials here on earth. We must 396 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. seek the aid of Him without whom we can do nothing. We must seek for the guidance of the Holy Spirit, who can lead us into all the truth. " Lord, I believe, help Thou my unbelief." In one of his many letters to Mr. Mark Napier, Sir Joseph Napier writes: — I have been very busy with a tough chapter in Butler, on which I have to give a lecture to-morrow night — Chap. II., Part II., of the Analogy. The highest authorities differ on the merit, or rather the meaning, of the great Bishop in this chapter. I think he is right, and can be fully upheld in his argument. I need not repeat how grateful 1 feel for the trouble you are taking for me. I only wish you had been in such health as that it would not have taxed your strength at all. It was pleasant to know that our volume gave you some agreeable reading. The sketch of Burke was really more troublesome than if I had expanded it into an octavo. I am glad to find it meets your approbation. I wrote it con amore. To the Same, just after the Lecture on Butler's Analogy. I feel that so far as God enables any of us who can, we ought to try to elevate and instruct others by such means as seem likely to be useful, and upon which we can ask His blessing. His be the praise. My visit to the district, and especially to Keswick, will be, I trust, a source of happy recollection and profitable to me both in health and spirit, and I look forward to another visit with hope and pleasant anticipation. ANALYSIS OF BISHOP BUTLER'S ARGUMENT ON PRESUMPTION AGAINST MIRACLES. THE consideration of the preliminary objections which , have been made to the credibility of Revelation as miraculous, included that of the supposed peculiar pre- sumption against any Divine interference with the course of Nature after it has been settled and during its continu- ance ; or, in other words, the supposed peculiar presump- tion against miracles in general. Butler proceeds to establish, first, that if there is a peculiar presumption against miracles in general, i.e., against any miraculous in-, terposition, it appears to be relatively unimportant ; and there is certainly no such presumption as to render miracles in any sort incredible ; and next, that as the moral system of the world enables us to see reasons for such interpo- sition, this gives a positive credibility to the history of miracles, in cases where these reasons hold. Thirdly, that if we compare miracles as a class, not to the ordinary but to the extra-ordinary phenomena of nature, then it is by no means certain that there is any peculiar presumption at all, from analogy, even in the lowest degree, against miracles as distinguished from other extraordinary pheno- mena ; but that this is of no importance to determine, as the only material question is, whether there is any such presumption as to render miracles in any sort incredible. It is the degree, not the fact of the presumption, that is important. Remember that the presumption supposed by 398 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. the objector is put forward as a bar to an examination of the evidence, in any case of an alleged miracle. But the objector is met on his own ground, and before he leaves this position, Butler examines the only argument which can be drawn from analogy (and to analogy the objector himself appeals), and he shows that a presumption beyond comparison greater than that which the objector has sup- . posed, may be removed by evidence, and therefore that there is no preliminary bar to the examination of the evi- dence in a case of alleged miraculous interposition. It is here that the difficulty is generally felt in following Butler ; and to avoid, or, at least, to remove this difficulty, a sus- tained attention is required. The supposed peculiar pre- sumption which he treats as small and as not to be estimated, is (as I conceive) simply and merely the naked presumption {prior to any evidence) against the interference of God, in any respect or on any occasion, with the settled course of nature. It is assumed for the sake of argument and under certain limited conditions ; for, so soon as we look to the moral system of nature, this presumption disappears. Miracles are left at last in all their distinctiveness as significant of a Divine interposition for a religious purpose ; and in no respect is the contrast weakened between the settled course of nature and the miraculous interference of God. I believe that it is by mixing up the consideration of this contrast with the previous question as to the sup- posed peculiar presumption against any interference at all ; by thus complicating, however unconsciously, what Butler had designedly disentangled, that much of the difficulty has arisen in following or adopting his argument at this stage. His caution and exactness are the more apparent, as he expressly forbids the comparison of miracles as a class, to ordinary facts as a class ; he had described what in its very notion a miracle is, and so as to show this com- parison to be inadmissible. But the happening oi par- ticular events of a known class is referred to — not the PRESUMPTION AGAINST MIRACLES. 399 uniform physical sequences of nature, but matters which we cannot reduce to general laws, and which are, therefore, called accidental. We have to wait on testimony to certify their happening ; and before any evidence, the presumption against the actual happening of a particular accidental event is such, that it is often beyond the limits of definite calculation ; and this may be expressed by saying, that there are millions to one against its happening at all. It is (as I have observed) the objector who has appealed to analogy in support of his objection ; and, therefore, Butler had only to show that there was no valid argument from analogy in favour of the objection. First, he says, we have no parallel case ; but if we look to the whole course of nature, to the facts which are within our ken, what is the utmost that we are warranted to presume from analogy against miraculous interposition ? The course of nature (as he explains in chap. 4) consists not only of uniform and occasional phenomena which by experience and analogy we can bring under general laws, but also of a class of events which cannot be referred to such laws, and are, therefore, called accidental ; and of phenomena which are called extraordinary. To compare miracles to matters which are reducible to general laws, is inadmissible in the very nature and reason of the thing ; but we may look to the other matters, and see if there is any analogy that can be derived. Now, what do we find in respect of many matters in the course of common life, which is a part of the course and order of nature ? " The most seemingly im- probable events in human history may be perfectly credible on sufficient testimony, however contradicting ordinary ex- perience of human motives and conduct, simply because we cannot assign any limit to the variety of human dispo- sitions, passions, or tendencies, or the extent to which they may be influenced by circumstances of which, perhaps, we may have little or no knowledge to guide us." These are the words of Mr. Baden Powell in his essay against miracles in the " Essays and Reviews." Where experience 400 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. cannot lead, nor analogy guide us, we are altogether de-; pendent on testimony ; for in the class of events which we; cannot bring under general laws, the unknown reciprocal, connection and mutual influence of countless circumstances,^ the action of causes that we cannot estimate or control, leave us without the means of getting at the truth of events which have been brought to pass, unless we have recourse to testimony. Before any evidence, the presumption may be; as great as we can well express ; indeed, so great, that if any of such events should happen to come into one's head,' without any kind of proof, everyone would conclude that they were false. Why so? Simply because there is no evidence of the facts. Where these avenues of knowledge, viz., experience, analogy, and testimony have been closed, it is a law of our nature that we cannot believe events to be true and real which happen to come into our head from another approach. The presumption before evidence against such events is great,, simply because our ignorance with regard to them is great. We are in a dim twilight in which we are unable to see all that is around us ; dark and ■, distant objects are concealed from observation. When we come to consider miraculous interposition, we have no case ; that is strictly parallel ; and then, leaving religion out of consideration, we get into total darkness with reference to; the probability of any interruption of the course of nature. ; We are unable to say how the matter stands as to the happening of an occasion for God's interference ; and the. presumption against it is, certainly, not such as to render miracles in any sort incredible. Now, with reference to the difficulty in comparing the two presumptions — perhaps it, mainly arises from the circumstance, that the question is one of degree. When we are left without the light of ex- perience and of analogy, and find ourselves in a twilight,: we must make use of the lamp of testimony ; when we pass into total darkness, this lamp is not the less available nor less required. It is very easy to distinguish between the light of day and the darkness of night, but most. PRESUMPTION AGAINST MIRACLES. 40I. difficult to say at what precise moment twilight ends and darkness begins. There may be just at that critical period a small additional hindrance to our vision, beyond that which had previously hidden from our eyes obscure or remote objects ; yet its relative importance, though it be peculiar, may be as nothing, and it is in itself incapable of estimation. The transition from facts that are usual to those that are often stranger and more improbable than fiction, and from these to the extraordinary and exceptional phenomena of nature ; the place also which testimony admittedly holds in making known what experience and analogy could not teach us — thus instructing the ignor- ance by reason of which a presumption arises before evi- dence and by evidence is removed ; all this may assure us that miraculous interposition (if not in its nature incredi- ble) may be established also by testimony, in which, by a law of our nature, we instinctively confide. This has been extremely well put by Professor Jellett, in a very instructive sermon preached in Trinity College Chapel, which I have had the advantage of reading, and to which I am permitted, by his kindness, to refer: — " As we know but imperfectly the laws of human thought, and the circumstances under which that thought is developed, we are obliged to have our information from testimony, and are willing to accept its evidence, though it may contradict the positive anticipations we had formed. And shall we say that we know so perfectly the laws of the Divine mind, and the circumstances under which He forms His decision, that we can always afford to reject the evidence of testimony, and treat the matter as one of positive science ?" The argument, then, from particular contingencies, so far as it can be applied, is against the objector, and so is that which is derived from the extraordinary phenomena of nature. Our first information as to these may depend altogether on testimony unaided by experience or analogy. If here we shut out evidence, because of a supposed pre- sumption against such seeming excrescences on a system: D D 402 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND ADDRESSES. assumed to be settled and complete, how could we arrive at any knowledge of those wonders of the universe of which some are at once " a mystery and a beauty "? But as testimony is here admitted, and thus we are at last enabled to bring within the cosmical system of nature, marvels of creative skill and power disclosed to the induc- tive spirit that waits patiently upon God, as He reveals Himself in His works to those ministers and interpreters of nature who diligently seek Him — where is the analogy to justify us in shutting out testimony as to other marvels which may be found to be lights of a higher system of morality and mercy ? Have we not then found that parti- cular events, extraordinary phenomena, and the moral system, bear witness respectively against the objector, so as to discredit his supposed presumption against the credi- bility of Revelation as miraculous ? I am enabled through the kindness of Dr. Salmon to give you what he has said, in one of his divinity lectures, when speaking on the subject of Natural Religion, as pre- paring the way for Revelation ; he says — " When she has ascribed to God those attributes which she has discovered from the study of our own nature, will, goodness, and wisdom, she sees nothing incredible in the statement, that God may interfere in a manner different from that of His every-day working, in order to point man to a worship which may be accepted as authoritative, to give a weighty support to true ethical doctrine (such support, I mean, as shall induce men to practise it), and which shall reveal to them a future life. Nay, it needs not this ; once admit the existence of a personal God, and His interference with the ordinary course of nature is not incredible, even if we could tell no reason why such an interference might be expected. For anyone who considers the narrowness of human expe- rience, must make allowance for the possible existence of causes of which we have no knowledge." Again — " I have shown that there are many points in which we can feel that Natural Religion is painfully PRESUMPTION AGAINST MIRACLES. 403: defective, and on which we can readily believe that God might be pleased to grant us greater certainty and fuller information. And I have said, that besides these reasons which we can see, no one can venture to say that there may ■ not be reasons unknown to us making it necessary that God should co}nm.unicate with men" This is, in fact, the substance of that part of Butler's argument which is contained in his second and third " particular observations." To view the matter as Butler did, we must not forget his habitual acknowledgment of ■ the unlimited power of God, and the limited knowledge of man. The course of nature he has described as that " course of operation, from its uniformity or constancy, called natural, and which necessarily implies an operating agent " (p. 36). He assumes, from the first, the existence of an intelligent Author of nature, and asserts, that " the very notion implies a will and a character which we are led to consider to be moral, just, and good, and in consequence of this, His will and character. He formed the universe as it is, and carries on the course of it as He does, rather than in any other manner" (pp. 1315-7). And in another part he says : — " What is natural as m,uch requires and presupposes an intelligent agent to render it so, i.e., to effect it continually or at stated times, as what is supernatural or m.iraculous does to effect it for once. And from hence it must follow that persons' notions of what is natural will be enlarged in pro- portion to their greater knowledge of the works of God and the dispensations of His Providence. Nor is there any absurdity in supposing that there may be beings in the universe, whose capacities and knowledge and views may be so extensive, as that the whole Christian dispen- sation may to them appear natural, i.e., analogous or con- formable to God's dealings with other parts of His creation, •■ as natural as the visible known course of things appears to us" (pp. 31-2). In reference to the limited capacity and narrow expe- rience of man — the connection of actions and natural events- 404 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. with one another, and their possible natural relation to other' actions and events, much beyond the compass of this present world, he observes : " Nor can we give the whole account of any one thing whatever — of all its causes, ends, and necessary adjuncts ; those adjuncts, I mean, without which it could not have been. By this most astonishing connec- tion, these reciprocal correspondences and mutual relations, everything which we see in the course of nature is actually brought about. And things seemingly the most insignifi- cant imaginable are perpetually observed to be necessary conditions to things of the greatest importance ; so that any one tiling may, for aught we know to the contrary, be a necessary condition to any other. The natural world then, and natural government of it, being such an incomprehen- sible scheme, so incomprehensible, that a man must really, in the literal sense, know nothing at all who is not sensible of his ignorance in it ; this immediately suggests, and strongly shews the credibility, that the moral world, and government of it, may be so too. He further suggests that " the natural and the moral make up together but one scheme, and it is highly probable the first is carried on merely in subserviency to the latter " (p. 126). By way of illustration, I may refer to the treatise of Dr. S. Clarke on the Evidences of Religion, pp. 219-224. His views are clearly stated, and may help you in understanding the text of Butler. In dealing with the antecedent presumptions which he has compared, Butler takes them as they stand prior to evidence, and as relative to the ignorance of man. It is the comparison — not of degrees of credibility after proof, but of presumptions before proof, in cases in which, from the very nature and reason of the thing, we are altogether dependent on testimony. A case has been put in which a definite number of contingencies are placed in the same circumstances, so that some one must turn up ; and as each has the same definite number of chances to one against it, and it is certain that some one of this class must turn up, PRESUxMPTION AGAINST MIRACLES. 405 it is said that here the antecedent presumption does not in the least render incredible the particular event which is alleged to have actually taken place. The presumption before proof is (as Butler himself has observed) altogether removed by almost any proof But an event, or set of events, which may result from countless circumstances, and may be such as to defy expectation, and to be incapable of being estimated in a definite form by any calculation of chances beforehand, is not exactly parallel with the limited contingency and its alternatives. Butler does not say that of the events against which the presumption may be mil- lions to one before proof, there may not be differences and degrees of credibility after proof , i.e., that some may not be more, some less readily believed ; nor does he say that there may not be a like difference between an ordinary and a miraculous narrative. This raises an entirely different question from that which he discusses. It is very easy to construct a comparison of an ordinary and a miraculous narrative, and to present a very striking contrast of credi- bility in these extreme cases. But a contrast almost, if not altogether, as striking might be made out between two cases selected for the purpose, one from the ordinary, and the other from the extraordinary departments of nature. We do not ignore the difference of day and night when we compare twilight with darkness, where the question is properly one of degree throughout, and not merely the contrast of extremes. When it is urged, that in the case of a miracle there remains what is described as an " impro- bability after the fact," which Butler is said to have over- looked ; I answer that he has disposed of the presumption prior to evidence, and excluded any such presumption as would render miracles in any sort incredible ; and I then ask, what is there left to give to the objection any meaning other than this — that a miracle remains a miracle ? The account of the contingency, in the illustration to which I have referred, may be supposed to be more cre- ■dible {i.e., more readily believed) than the narrative of a 406 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. miracle which cannot cease to be a miracle ; but, so far from overlooking this, it seems to me to be the very ground on which Butler insists that miracles must be compared not to the ordinary but to the extra-ordinary phenomena of nature in the way he has clearly explained. The natural and the miraculous (according to Butler and Clarke) may be more or less in contrast when viewed in their relation to the knowledge and belief of man ; but with reference to the power of God, all are alike. To a mind so profound — solemnized by his deep consciousness of the moral relation of man to God — a mind at once elevated and humbled — how illusory must the supposed presumption have appeared. It was, after all, like " the baseless fabric of a vision." It could only be supposed to exist by keeping the moral system out of view, and regard- ing miracles merely as exceptions to the physical order of nature. In meeting the unbelieving objector on his own ground, the miracle is, in the first instance, regarded in its physical aspect ; but, when the preliminary objection has been re- moved, the moral element is brought forward, and the whole question is viewed from an altered stand-point. Be- fore coming to this, it is the cautious definition of Butler which has justified him in the language which he has used in speaking of a miracle at all ; and this reminds me that I should call your attention pointedly to a twofold view of miracles. There is in every visible miracle what I may call the overt act — the objective reality or effect produced, and this is the proper subject of direct testimony ; the moral inference, that this has been miraculously brought to pass, is to be drawn from the facts in connection with all the attendant circumstances. Thus there is a physical and there is a moral question. Hume published his Essay on Miracles some years after the publication of the first edition of the Analogy of Butler, and he has contended that the report of a miracle could not be believed, as testimony was incompetent to prove it. PRESUMPTION AGAINST MIRACLES. 407 He did not say that miracles were impossible, but it came very much, to the same thing, if they could not be proved by testimony. It is not now denied that testimony may prove all the facts of a miracle, and the accompanying circumstances ; but it is insisted that it is not competent to prove that the effect has been caused by the special inter- ference of Divine power. " What is alleged " (says Mr. Baden Powell in his essay recently published in " Essays and Reviews," p. 107) is a case of the supernatural, but no testimony can reach to the supernatural — testimony can apply only to apparent sensible facts ; testimony can only prove an extraordinary and, perhaps, inexplicable occurrence or phenomenon ; that it is due to supernatural causes is en- tirely dependent on the previous belief and assumptions of the parties." I think it is instructive and important to trace the changes which have taken place in the assault on miracles ; and this will enable us to see how completely Butler has dealt with the question in his compendious but suggestive argument. I take Hume's theory ; not indeed as Mr. Mill represents it, as if, in effect, it amounted to a kind of harmless truism of no practical value ; but, as I find it to be — a mischievous compound of an arbitrary and erroneous definition of the word miracle, and an unwarrant- able abuse of the word experience. " A miracle," he says, " is a violation of the laws of nature ; and as a firm and unalterable experience has established these laws, the proof against a miracle from the nature of the fact is as entire as any argument from experience can possibly be imagined." But in the same essay (Vol. ii., p. 136, Dub. 1779) he makes this confession :— " I beg the limitations here made may be remarked when I say, that a miracle can never be proved so as to be the foundation of a system of reli- gion. For, / own that otherwise there may possibly be miracles, or violations of the usual course of nature, of such a kind as to admit of proof from human testimony, though, perhaps, it will be impossible to find any such in all the -records of history. Thus, suppose all authors in all 408 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. languages agree, that from the first of January, 1600, there was a total darkness over the whole earth for eight days, suppose that the tradition of this extraordinary event is still strong and lively among the people ; that all travellers who return from foreign countries bring us accounts of the same tradition without the least variation or contradiction ; it is evident tJiat our present philosophers, instead of doubting the fact, ought to receive it as certain, and ought to search for ■the causes whence it might be derived!' According to this statement, it follows that experience is not " unalterable," •and testimony is competent to prove that the settled uni- formity of nature has been interrupted, and " the proof against a miracle from the nature of the fact" is not "as entire as any argument from experience can possibly be imagined." The real difficulty with Hume seems to have been con- nected with the use to be made of miracles as " the founda- tion of a system of religion." It was a difficulty indigenous to the " heart of unbelief" But, I must say, that he has both asserted and conceded more than I am prepared to admit ; for I cannot admit that a law of nature could be violated at all. " The laws of nature " (says Dr. Salmon in his sound and admirable lecture) " are nothing more or less than the most general statements of the results of our ob- servation of the processes and facts of nature. If a new fact comes under our notice, inconsistent with the laws of nature, such as we have laid them down, we are not to say that a law of nature has been transgressed, but merely that we have interpreted the laws wrongly, or that our statement of them has been defective For no fact that possibly can take place can be a violation of the laws of nature. . . . And the progress of modern science is nothing else than the patient observation of such new facts, and the consequent correction and widening of our state- ment of nature's laws." In truth, the inductive philosophy requires us to enlarge our experience by observation and by testimony, and forbids us to measure creation by our PRESUMPTION AGAINST MIRACLES. 409 uninstructed capacity, or to stereotype our ignorance by the efforts oi d. priori speculation. The 109th aphorism in the Novum Organum of Bacon (Vol. iv., p. 99) is here very suggestive. How could we know the universal experience of which Hume speaks, except by testimony and communi- cation ; and how could individual ignorance be removed, error corrected, or experience enlarged, unless we receive from testimony what by a law of our nature it can give, and we should take. Individual experience, after all, is merely fractional ; and, therefore, our first lesson, and every subsequent increase which our experience receives, must "have, each in themselves, some positive value. If Hume's main position were sound, it would seem as difficult to en- large our experience beyond our individual observation, as to make a unit by the addition of cyphers. Archbishop Whately, in his well-known Treatise on Logic, has thoroughly exposed the inexcusable liberty which Hume has taken with the word experience ; and, in the celebrated " Historic Doubts," His Grace has most happily shown the absurdities to which Hume's sophistry necessarily leads. Hume must have felt the difficulty of his position, for he suggests a distinction between what is contrary and what is not conformable to experience (p. 122). But this does not relieve him. The Indian prince who refused to believe the first relations concerning frost reasoned justly (he says). But he is afterwards compelled to admit that testimony was competent to enlarge the experience, which in this very case it seemed to contradict. And, indeed, this example shows the inherent fallacy of Hume's position. In the note that may be found (p. 479), he proceeds to modify what he had put forward in the text (p. 122). " No Indian, it is evident" (he says in the note), " could have experience that water did not freeze in cold climates. This is placing nature in a situation quite unknown to him ; and it is impossible for him to tell a, priori what will result from it. It is making a new experi- ment, the consequence of which is always uncertain." That 4IO LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. is to say, the a priori speculative objection was erroneous ; it was founded on mere ignorance, which, under the circum- stances, could only be removed by testimony. Here then the sceptic contradicts and confutes himself There are facts, which although seemingly against experience and analogy, are, for this very reason, the proper subject of testimony that instructs those who could not otherwise have their ignorance removed, or their experience enlarged. " Such an event," continues Hume, " may be denominated extra-ordinary, and requires a pretty strong testimony to render it credible to people in a warm climate : but still it is not miraculous, nor contrary to uniform experience of the course of nature in cases where all the circumstances are the same. The inhabitants of Sumatra have always seen water fluid in their own climate, and the freezing of the rivers ought to be deemed a prodigy ; but they never saw water in Muscovy during the winter, and, therefore, they cannot reasonably be positive what would there be the con- sequences!' They would not reason soundly, then, if they would refuse to hear testimony to prove the prodigy ; and, if so, you may naturally ask, how could the Indian prince be said to have " reasoned justly " ? And if neither Ought to have relied on mere ignorance as a bar to the reception of testimony, has Mr. Hume reasoned justly when he lands himself in such palpable contradictions ? It is contrary to experience, he says, that a miracle should be true. To whose experience ? If he means that it is contrary to all human experience, then I say this is begging the whole question, for he assumes that this experience is known to all, and that testimony to establish the fact alleged must necessarily be false. If he means that it is contrary to the experience of those who have not been eye-witnesses of it, then I say this is the very case in which, according to all analogy, we should receive testimony for the purpose of enlarging this experience. This is the very basis of all in- ductive science. The consciousness of our ignorance sug- gests that we should be slow to reject a narrative as PRESUMPTION AGAINST MIRACLES. 41 1 incredible, merely because it is beyond or even contrary to our very limited experience ; the ignorant and uninstructed, the pretentious and speculative, may reject as incredible and absurd what the patient follower of Bacon would receive as the wise words of " truth and soberness." Hume's theory, then, breaks down altogether when it is applied to common life, or to the extraordinary phenomena of nature. It ought (says Mr. Starkie in his excellent work on the Law of Evidence, 4th ed., p. 833, n.) to be stated thus : " Human testimony is founded on experience, and is, therefore, inadequate to prove that of which there has been no previous experience." But, as Mr. Starkie well observes, "the negation of experience is perfectly con- sistent with the just operation of the principle of belief or faith in testimony,' which is a law of our nature ; and this negation cannot reasonably be supposed to destroy this principle. Negative evidence is, in the abstract, inferior to positive, because the negative is not directly opposed to the positive testimony — both may be true!' Again — " That there may be and are general and ever-unalterable laws of nature may be admitted ; but that human knowledge and experience of these laws is unalterable (which alone can be the test of exclusion), is untrue, except in a very limited sense ; that is, it may be fairly assumed that a law of nature once known to operate will always operate in a similar manner, unless its operation be iinpeded or counter- acted by a new and contrary cause!' Butler has shown, by his appeal to analogy, that testi- mony is competent to establish facts, notwithstanding a very strong presumption against them, provided this is not such as to render the facts alleged in any sort incredible. Hume might have said, in these cases, that it is more pro- bable that testimony should be false than that facts, which neither experience nor analogy could certify without testi- mony, should be true ; but here the experience of human life and events (some of which are commonly said to be more strange than fiction) would have repelled, if not 412 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. refuted, this fallacy. It does not follow, that because some testimony may be false, all testimony should be discredited at the outset ; and I may add, that nothing is more con- trary to experience than that the testimony of suck wit- nesses as have accredited the miracles of Revelation, should be false. The case of extra-ordinary phenomena, even of a prodigy, Hume admits to be provable by testimony; and that i priori objections, founded on our previous ignorance, could not be relied on in such cases. Butler most appropriately refers to this very analogy, and to the presumption which naturally arises in the minds of those who have but a limited knowledge of such matters, when they hear of such phenomena for the first time. The absence of previous experience may properly and naturally induce caution, if not hesitation, in the reception of evidence, which may, therefore, be the more carefully sifted. But such inexperience, however constant, is not sufficient to raise a preliminary bar to the reception or examination of the evidence that must be considered in connection with the probabilities in favour of testimony, and the moral suggestions which the special circumstances supply. If we but look to the lessons of experience in the advance- ment of knowledge since the inductive method has been adopted, we may see that new facts or phenomena, which had not been observed or known before, and could not be accounted for by the laws already observed, have been the means by which more general, and, therefore, more perfect, laws have been ascertained. The definition of a miracle as a violation of the laws of nature is founded on an assumption and a fallacy, for it assumes all the circumstances to be the same where the effect is natural and where it is miraculous. The action of the frost, as related to the Indian prince, was the influence of a new and, to him, unknown cause, that made all the difference in the result. So long as, in deference to his own ignorance, he took for granted that there could be no other causes in operation but those of which he had expe- PRESUMPTION AGAINST MIRACLES. 41 3, rience, he could not believe the testimony as to the effect. But the testimony was sufficient to establish the truth of the effect, produced by the action of the unknown cause. And so in the case of a miracle, there is the direct inter- position of an act of the will of the Intelligent Author of nature and moral Governor of the world, " whose will," as Mr. Mill has said, " being assumed to have endowed all the causes with the powers by which they produce their effects, may well be supposed able to counteract them." What are called the laws of nature, are but some of the expressions of His will with which we become gradually acquainted in the discoveries of science and the disclosures of Revelation. His interposition, then, is not a violation of these laws. It is but the subordination of the lower to a higher rule of the one comprehensive system. Just as in our jurisprudence, equity interferes with com- mon law, and mercy with criminal justice ; but equity does not violate law, nor is mercy opposed to justice. We have it confessed by Hume, and admitted by Baden Powell, that testimony is sufficient to establish facts, though they are extraordinary or even inexplicable — matters beyond the range of experience and the reach of analogy. There is no possible matter, however strange it may seem, how unlike the ordinary tenor of our experience, which yet we may not be justified in believing to have actually occurred, provided that we have competent testimony to the fact. Mr. Mill, therefore, plainly and properly states that mira- cles, as extra-ordinary facts, are as susceptible of proof as any other extraordinary facts. In all cases in which infor- mation is communicated, if it is found to be either unusual or improbable, and, therefore, unexpected, we naturally sift the evidence and scrutinize all the circumstances, and, especially consider the credit due to the witnesses. Much may depend on the circumstances in the case of an alleged miracle — the occasion, the manner, and the agent em- ployed. But no peculiar species of testimony is required different from that offered to prove other events, and 414 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. especially such as are unusual or improbable. The amount that may be required in any of these cases is not a general question, but depends not merely on special circumstances, but on the personal condition of the individual to be con- vinced — his moral antecedents, his intellectual attainments, his emotional temperament. But this is not peculiar to the credibility or the proof of miracles. The testimony of competent and credible witnesses is all that can be required ; and as miracles are relative to the course of nature, the same persons can attest miraculous facts who are suitable witnesses of the corresponding facts that are natural. This is very ably discussed in Mr. Newman's Essay on the Miracles, in the fifth volume of the " Encyclopedia Metro- politana." I may here also refer you to a masterly discussion of the causes of doubt and disbelief, and the proper force of testimony, in the celebrated sermon of South on the unbelief of Thomas. When I read it, I could not but re- member with satisfaction the happy expression of Hannah More, as to the old divines—" I like the lean of their fat.'* Well, then, our case is so far made good, that the facts of a miracle can be established by testimony, and by the same kind of testimony as that by which facts not mira- culous may be proved. The amount of testimony is an individual, not a general, question ; and it is a question not peculiar to the case of miracles. Then wherein is the difficulty now said to exist? It arises not before the evi- dence, but after the proof of the facts. What has Hume said was proper to be done in the case where he admitted that testimony might prove what he assumed to be a violation of a law of nature ? " Our present philosophers, instead of doubting the fact, ought to receive it as certain, and ought to search for the causes whence it anight be derived" Agreed. What then ? If we find in such a case that there is no natural solution ; if it cannot be proved to be a pre- tence like that of the alleged melting of the blood of St. Januarius at Naples, before we can say that it is altogether inexplicable, we are bound, according to the soundest PRESUMPTION AGAINST MIRACLES. 415 philosophy, to consider whether it may not be a sign from God. Now, in connection with the facts, there may be such attendant circumstances incontrovertibly estabHshed by the evidence, such declarations accompanying the acts done, such an appeal to the moral and religious elements of our nature, as ought to bring clear conviction home to us that it is a miracle — that here is the finger of God. It is a moral inference, for the miracle has a moral element and a moral end. The question is, whether in the whole matter, as it is presented and testified, there is enough to leave us without excuse if we refuse to hear the voice from heaven. Our moral nature is as real as the material world around us. It is not because we are enabled to trace in the latter some of the laws by which physical order is regulated, the uniformity of which consists with that watch- ful Providence without whom a sparrow falls not to the ground ; a uniformity, moreover, without which we could not have a miracle at all — it is not because of this order in the material world, that we are to ignore other facts as real : the freedom and responsibility, the weakness and dependence, the religious instincts and the moral sugges- tions that are the mysteries of our being. There is a spiritual and a moral system, as well as a cosmical order, in the universe. The spiritual and the moral transcend the material. " The case of the miracle," says Professor Jellett, " is no question of the universality of the law of causation which the Christian theory obeys as perfectly as its oppo- nents. The question is, whether, in addition to the causes which we see in operation every day, another cause, the direct interference of God, has acted at certain rare inter- vals ; and whether this be true must be decided by con- siderations of the general probability of such unusual interference, the most important of these being the plausi- bility of the special case which can be made out for such special interference ; and secondly, direct testimony that the alleged effect has been produced. General physical rea- sonings do not really affect the question. All that such 4l6 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. reasonings can establish is, that if no other cause act but those which we see usually operating, and the laws of' whose operation we know, a certain effect will invariably follow. But they do not and cannot tell us what effect will be produced under the influence of a new cause, the laws of whose action we know imperfectly or not at all. Information in such cases can only be given to us by testi- mony. In fact,'where the new cause is human interference, this is quite conceded." The provision made for this new cause, in the exercise of our responsible freedom, may well teach us that He who could so establish the moral and the material world on unchangeable laws conformable to His eternal nature, that they should be unaffected by human interference, is able also to provide for His own gracious interference with the material world, in order to restore the moral harmony that man had interrupted. The creature has interfered with the higher system, and caused disorder ; the Creator with the lower, to restore the moral order of His own creation. There is a tribute, though unconsciously paid, to Butler, in what we find in the concession of Hume and of Baden Powell, and still more in the exposition of Mr. Mill. It is instructive to compare the summing up of his views at the close of this chapter, with a summary which Mr. Mill has furnished, and to which he has kindly allowecj me to refer. Butler says : — " Upon all this I conclude that there cer-' tainly is no such presumption against miracles as to render them in anywise incredible ; but, on the contrary, our being able to discern reasons for them, gives a positive credibility to the history of them in cases where those reasons hold ; and that it is by no means certain that there is any pecu- liar presumption at all from analogy, even in the lowest degree, against miracles as distinguished from other ex- traordinary phenomena." The summary of Mr. Mill, to which I have referred, is in these words : — " My view of the general question is briefly this : that a miracle, considered merely as an extraordinary fact, is as susceptible of proof as other extraordinary facts. That as PRESUMPTION AGAINST MIRACLES. 417 a miracle, it cannot, in the strict sense, be proved, because there never can be conclusive proof of its miraculous nature ; but that to anyone who already believes in an intelligent Creator and Ruler of the universe, the moral probability that a given extraordinarj?^ event (supposed to be fully proved) is a miracle, may greatly outweigh the probability of its being the result of some unknown natural cause/' I have already observed that for " proved " and "proof," the words "^demonstrated" and "demonstration" should be substituted. Butler has assumed throughout the existence of an intelligent Author of Nature, and has shown that He is the Moral Governor of the world ; that, although there cannot be a strict demonstration of a fact, there may be a convincing proof ; that, from the facts which testimony can establish, with all the attendant cir- cumstances, the moral inference proper to be drawn may be clear and certain ; that there is no antecedent pre- sumption to make the miracle incredible, and there may be moral reasons to give a positive credibility to the narrative. Is not this sustained by the summary of Mr. Mill, and is it not, in all that is material, logically accurate, and morally sufficient ?* Where is now the supposed peculiar presumption against miracles in general ? In Mr. Mill's clear and compendious summary it has vanished before the belief in an intelligent Creator and Ruler of the universe. This is the only "previous belief and assumption of the parties" (to use the words of Mr. Baden Powell) that Mr. Mill requires, to -make that a miracle properly so called, which he who ber lieves not in a personal God (the atheist and the pantheist) ■ will consistently regard as the result of some unknown .natural law of the material world. Can this presumption, then, be other than as Butler has described it? Can this be too strong for testimony to overcome if it is found to pass away with the unbelief that has given it birth ? Can it be estimated by those who believe in a God ? • See "Aids to Faith," p. 29. Hampd. Phil. Ev., p. 236. 41 8 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. " Once admit the existence of a personal God, and His interference with the ordinary course of nature is not in- credible, even if we could tell no reason why such an interference might be expected." Thus the question of miracles resolves itself, at last, into that of atheism_ There seems to be no consistent position between the dis- belief in a personal God and the acknowledgment of " the pure word by miracle revealed." " I had rather " (says Bacon) " believe all the fables in the Legend, and the Talmud, and the Alcoran, than that this universal frame is without a mind ; and, therefore, God never wrought miracle to convince atheism, because His ordinary works convince it." His eternal power and Godhead, " the invisible things" of the Creator, from the time of the Creation, are therein manifested, because God has so created the world as to leave impressed on it this testimony as to Himself. Hence it is that Bacon speaks of miracles as " new creations," which are connected with the work of redemption, " whereto all God's signs and miracles do refer" (Vol. VH., p. 221, and see p. 243). The discoveries of modern science bring out more palpably the special character of the miracles of Revelation. These gather around the great central fact which stands unique in its sublime and solemn majesty — the finished work of man's redemption. Science, as she progresses, shuts us up the more to the acknowledgment of the mys- tery of God manifest in the flesh ; for the miracles by which this has been attested are found incapable of other solution than this — they are signs from God. How con- sistent, then, that these should stand out in such striking contrast with the course and order of nature, as God's witnesses to His gracious interference with the course of justice ! The great poet speaks from the heart to the heart in that noble passage — " Therefore, Jew, Though justice be thy plea, consider this — That in the course of justice, none of us Should see salvation ; we do pray for mercy.' PRESUMPTION AGAINST MIRACLES. 419 Here we expect — we implore the Divine interposition — the mercy that is itself a miracle. The religious affections, the instincts of our nature, speak in the voice of prayer, by which we acknowledge that He who has so settled the order of the world as to leave nothing to chance, nothing that is not provided, is the " Divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will." Events which sensibly affect our destiny we instinct- ively call providential, when some special occasion re- minds us of the watchful providence of God. We should remember that the hairs of our heads are numbered — that " in Him we live and move and have our being." In the significant words of Butler : " What is natural as much requires and presupposes an intelligent agent to render it so, i.e., to effect it continually, or at stated times, as what is supernatural or miraculous does to effect it for once." In considering the question of the miracles, we are not asked to investigate some isolated wonder occurring sud- denly by surprise, without warning and without connec- tion. Mr. Smith, the respected minister of St. Stephen's Church, has in his valuable treatise on the Christian Miracles, admirably expounded their connection with the moral system and the work of redemption. This is all- important. For, as Dr. Johnson has wisely observed : " Although God has made nature to operate by certain fixed laws, yet it is not unreasonable to think that He may suspend those laws, in order to establish a system highly advantageous to mankind." " Here then we rest, not fearing for our creed The worst that human reasoning can achieve To unsettle or perplex it." It is now conceded that the facts set forth in the nar- rative of our historical religion are the proper subject of 420 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. testimony, and that by testimony they may be accredited. This is indeed the great concession. The power of God had been at first denied, then, the sufficiency of testimony ; but the assailant at last retreats to his native home in the '.' heart of unbelief" The special difficulty is acknow- ledged to be, exclusively, the moral difficulty of him who does not believe in a personal God ; we need not pursue it further. I feel that I have drifted into a digression, for which I ask your indulgent consideration, as the subject is one oi great interest and importance in its general aspect. Nor is it in other respects merely an academic question. For if I have been enabled in any way to vindicate the accu- racy of the illustrious Butler, to expand his argument, and place it in a light that may enable some of you to appre- hend it with exactness and satisfaction, I have so far done a service to his honoured memory, and to the cause of re- ligion, which was dear to his heart. I feel indebted, more than I can express, to those esteemed friends with whom I have communicated on this somewhat difficult chapter; they are of " the excellent of the earth" — men of learning, candour, and piety. Nor can I conclude this lecture with- out acknowledging a deep sense of gratitude to God, that He has led me here to examine these evidences of His power and His goodness. The miracles were works of mercy ; the doctrines were words of truth — " Mercy and truth are met together." They point to the moral order yet to be completed in " the restitution of all things," in " the new heavens and the new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness" — when each " Inspired By choice, and conscious that the will is free, Shall move unswerving, even as if impelled By strict necessity, along the path Qf order and of good." PRESUMPTION AGAINST MIRACLES. 421 Letter to Mr Mark Napier. I HAVE been very deep in a chapter in Butler, which has been a puzzle to some of our wiseacres, and I think I have made out the meaning. I have to give a reading on it to the Young Men's Association in connection with the Church, on the 31st. I will afterwards send you a copy. It is a curious instance of the tendency of theological men to construe an author by the light of their own dogmas. After all, good forensic training is an admirable exercise for the mind. With very kind regards, I am, 1 Very faithfully your obliged, J. Napier. THE COMMUNION SERVICE OF THE Cturri} of CEnglanli anU IrclantJ. T HE title or heading of this Service in the authorized Book of Common Prayer is this : — THE ORDER FOR THE ADMINISTRATION OF THE LORD'S SUPPER; OR, "IbolB Communion. What is meant by the " Holy Communion " ? It is the partaking of a heavenly Feast by communicants at the Lord's Table.* Accordingly, the Twenty-eighth Article of Religion says, " To such as rightly, worthily, and with faith receive the same, the Bread which we break is a par- taking [communicatio] of the Body of Christ, and likewise the Cup of Blessing is a partaking [communicaiio] of the Blood of Christ." "The Body of Christ" (says this Article) "is given, taken, and eaten in the Supper only after an heavenly and spiritual manner : and the mean whereby the Body of Christ is received and eaten in the Supper is faith." In the Twenty-ninth Article it is stated that " such as be void of a lively faith in no wise partake of Christ." * I Cor. X. 1 6. THE COMMUNION SERVICE. 423, The Rubric directs a form to be Used " when the Minister giveth warning for the celebration of the Holy Communion": — "I purpose, through God's assistance, to administer to all such as shall be religiously and devoutly disposed the most comfortable Sacrament of the Body and Blood of Christ ; to be by them received in remembrance^ of His meritorious Cross and Passion ; whereby alone we obtain remission of our sins, and are made partakers of thej Kingdom of heaven." The Communion is described in this form as " Hj heavenly Feast," to which those who are invited are re- minded that they should come " in the marriage-garment required by God in Holy Scripture, and be received as worthy partakers of that holy Table." Here we have the Church's summary of the nature and purpose of this Sacrament. We proceed next to the Ser-' vice itself ; First, there is the Offertory, during which " Alms for the Poor, and other devotions of the people "* are directed to' be Collected " m a decent basin, which is to be brought reve-; rently to the Priest, who shall humbly present and place it upon the holy Table" The Rubric then directs that " z£//4««. there is a Communion, the Priest shall place upon the Table so much Bread and Wine as he shall think sufficient.:, Whether there is or is not a Communion, the prayer is used in which we humbly beseech God " most mercifully ta accept our alms and oblations" ''If there be no alms or oblations" this part is to be left unsaid. A question has been made, whether the word " oblations', : in this prayer, includes the Bread and Wine (if any) " placed upon the Table." This should be answered as a question' of construction. From the Offertory Sentences, it is obt vious that the collection may consist of offerings as well ag alms — " other devotions of the people ;" and the whole is to be. disposed of to ''pious and charitable uses" aa proivided * Acts xxiv. 17. 424 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. by the Rubric at the close of the Service. There may be a collection without a Communion, and there might be a Communion of poor communicants without a collection. The words of the prayer are proper in the former case, but not in the latter, for then confessedly there are no " alms " to be accepted. We find in' the special Office for the Communion of the Sick, there is no reference to any kind of offering or oblation whatsoever. The prayer for the acceptance of alms and oblations is not a part of this Office. Alms and oblations are the offerings of the communi- cants ; but the Bread and Wine are directed by the Rubric to be provided by the Curate and the Churchwardens, at the charges of the parish. Waterland has truly said : — "We consider not the elements when presented before God, as properly our gifts to Him, but as His gifts to us, which we pray may be consecrated to spiritual uses."* From the failure of the attempt that was made at the time of the last revision of the Prayer Book, to insert the words, " offer up, and" before the word "place " in this Rubric, we have a key to open its meaning.f There is another matter not less decisive. In the Rubric which provides for the consecration of more Bread or Wine (if required), nothing farther is directed than to use the form, prescribed in the prayer of consecration. It is assumed that all the Bread or Wine that was placed on the Table at the first, and afterwards consecrated, has been spent before the supplemental consecration is to take place, and it cannot be said, that the additional Bread or Wine is a part of the " oblations " previously presented. On the whole, it is plain that the word " oblations," in the prayer, is applicable to, and does not include more than, the Offer- tory Collection. So far, thereforp, the Service seems to be clear and consistent; and the answer given as to the meaning of * Vol. IV., p. 740. Ed. 1843. t Proctor on tlie Book of Common Prayer, p. 343. THE COMMUNION SERVICE. 425. oblations, in the prayer, appears to be decisive. The re- jection of the words, " offer up," which were proposed to be. inserted in the Rubric in 166 1, is the more to be noticed for the reason given in the admirable Preface to the Prayer Book : — " Of the sundry alterations proposed unto us, we\ kave rejected all such as were either of dangerous consequence, (as secretly striking at some established doctrine, or laudable. Practice of the Church of England, or indeed of the whole Catholic Church of Christ), or else of no consequence at all, but utterly frivolous and vain." We pass from the prefatory to the introductory part of the Service. The communicants are supposed to be con- veniently placed for the receiving of the holy Sacrament. A form of Exhortation is then to be used, in which they are reminded of what is required for all such as shall be meet partakers of those holy mysteries, which were insti- tuted and ordained by our Lord " as pledges of His love, and for a continual remembrance of His death, to our great and endless comfort " — " to the end that we should alway remember the exceeding great love of our Master and only Saviour Jesus Christ thus dying for us, and the innumer- able benefits which by His precious blood-shedding He hath ordained for us."* Compare this exhortation with the form of warning, and observe the complete harmony between them. The confession and precatory absolution follow, before we come to the prayer of consecration of the Bread and Wine placed upon the Table. This prayer requires to be deliberately considered. Here it is proper to follow the wise suggestion given in the Preface to our Prayer Book — to " take the pains to compare the present Book with the former " — the revised and authorized Liturgy with that set forth in the First Prayer Book of 1 549. * See Exod. xii. 14; Deut. xvi. 2, 3. 426, LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. In the former Prayer Book, the Priest is directed to set the Bread and Wine upon the Altar, and then turning to the Altar, he was to say or sing the prayer that begins with what is called the Canon, in which the congregation is said- to have assembled " to celebrate the commemoration " of the death of Christ. Then follows a prayer for the sanctifying and blessing of the Bread and Wine on the Altar. In this, it is said that our Lord "did institute and in His holy- gospel command us to celebrate a perpetual memory of; that His precious death ;" and the Priest (" turning stjll to, the Altar, without any elevation, or showing the Sacrament to the people") is directed to invoke the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the Bread and Wine — " to bless and sanctify these thy gifts and creatures of Bread and Wine " (making upon them the sign of the cross), " that they may be unto us the Body and Blood of thy most dearly beloved Son Jesus Christ." This is followed by the prayer of oblation in these words : — " Wherefore, O Lord and heavenly Father, accord-' ing to the institution of thy dearly beloved Son, our Saviour Jesus Christ, we thy humble servants do celebrate and make here before thy Divine Majesty, with these thy holy gifts, the memorial which thy Son hath willed us to make" &c. God is then asked to accept " this our sacrifice of praise' and thanksgiving :" there is next the offer of our soul's and bodies as a reasonable, holy, and lively sacrifice unto Him ;^ and a prayer for all who shall be partakers of this Holy Communion, that they may " worthily receive the mosf precious Body and Blood of Christ." But before the celebration of the memorial has been made, which is here said to have been commanded, there has not been any partaking in common ; a receiving with faith or in remembrance has not been required of any com- municant. An objective oblation has been offered at the Altar, by the officiating Priest, as the mediator and inter- cessor for the people. The language is consistent ; there THE COMMUNION SERVICE. 427. is an altar, an oblation, a memorial celebrated, and so forth. Now turn from this to the reformed and authorized Liturgy. Here we have " the celebration of the Holy Com- munion." This includes the consecration of the Bread and Wine, the partaking in common, in remembrance, with faith and thanksgiving. The whole is the act of the Priest and the people together. The Rubric directs that " there shall be no celebration of the Lord's Supper except there be a convenient number to communicate with the Priest according to his discretion." The Homily on the subject, which is incorporated with the Thirty-fifth Article (and is thereby made a part of it), says, " Herein thou needest no other man's help, no other sacrifice or oblation, no sacri- ficing priest, no mass, no means established by man's, invention."* The prayer of consecration is directed to be said by the Priest " standing before the Table " — not " turning to the Altar'.' The Bread and Wine are to be so placed " that he may with the more readiness and decency break the Bread before the people, and take the Cup into his hands" — not "without shewing the Sacrament to the people" The Canon is altogether omitted. The word " continue " is substituted for " celebrate',' as to the perpetual memory of the death of our blessed Lord. Instead of the prayer for the blessing of the Bread and Wine placed on the Altar, the following is substituted in the prayer of consecration at the Table : — " Grant that we \i.e., the Priest and people], receiving [not offering] these thy creatures of Bread and Wine, according to thy Son our Saviour Jesus Christ's holy insti- tution, in remembrance of His death and passion, may be partakers of His most blessed Body and Blood." Every word that might express or imply an oblation in any form is carefully excluded. It is not a memorial celebrated by an offering on the Altar, but a Sacrament to be received in * Horn, 378. 428. LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. remembrance at the Lord's Table. The prayer of oblation is consistently and designedly omitted, because no oblation is contemplated. The word " celebration " is applied to the complete Service of the Holy Communion taken as a whole. The Bread and Wine are consecrated with the Word of God and prayer. St. Paul speaks of them as the bread which we break and the cup which we bless (i Cor. x. i6). "We are all partakers of that one bread" (v. 17). This includes all the faithful in whose name the prayer is said by the Priest at the Table. As this preparatory Service precedes the Communion, and assumes the rightly receiving by all to be the remembrance commanded, the prayer of thanks- giving and of self-dedication to God has been transposed,, so as to be used by all, after all have communicated, and not before. In the Prayer Book of 1549, in which the oblation offered up by the Priest was regarded as the memorial to be celebrated, the prayer of oblation and of thanksgiving, &c., were consistently combined. In the Reformed Service, the prayer of oblation was, with not less propriety, altogether omitted, and the prayer of thanks- giving transferred to the post-Communion service. The comment of Archdeacon Wilberforce, in which he censures this omission and transposition, is very decisive as to its true import and effect. This is the opinion of one who joined the Church of Rome. " The Service was divested of its sacrificial character, and no longer bore wit- ness as in early times to the great event which is transacted at the Altar. This was done both by mutilating the prayer of oblation which had been retained in the Book of 1 548,* and by placing it after, instead of before, the Communion.''^ The alterations made in this prayer are of the highest importance. Here we have the Church's authorized doc- trine of the Eucharistic Sacrifice. It is offered by Priest * I.f., the First Prayer Book, sometimes referred to the date of 1549. t Wilberforce on the Eucharist, pp. 378-80 (3rd Ed.). THE COMMUNION SERVICE. 429 and people as a sacrifice 01 praise and thanksgiving, not before, but in the Holy Communion as one entire spiritual service. All who receive with faith are offerers alike ; and none other is an offerer, whether he is a priest or a layman., " The which thing because we ought chiefly at this Table to solemnize, the godly Fathers named ' Eucharistia,' that is. Thanksgiving ; as if they would have said — now, above all other times, ye ought to laud and praise God." * The post-Communion prayer describes the whole com- pleted Service as ^' this our sacrifice of praise and thanks- giving!' No other sacrifice on the part of Priest or people is suggested, but that of offering themselves to the service of God. We see, then, what the Church means by Holy Communion ; what is meant by the Eucharist ; and what by the Eucharistic Sacrifice. It is a spiritual and com- memorative service of Priest and people, in which the most comfortable Sacrament of the Body and Blood 01 Christ is administered to those who are religiously and devoutly disposed, and is partaken by all who rightly, worthily, and with faith, receive the same in remembrance of His meritorious Cross and Passion. The Minister is directed, first to receive in both kinds himself, and then to minister in order to the other com- municants. The form now used in delivering the conse- crated bread and wine to each communicant, " contains the most antient and simple words of delivery, adding the prayer formed with them in Gregory's time, and continued in the Missal ; and also the favorite words of the stanchest Reformers, implying that each individual is to take and eat and drink, with an application of the merits of Christ's death to his own soul." f There were other alterations made in this Service to which it is proper to advert. In addition to what has been already noticed, the Articles declared that the Sacrament? * Horn. 380. t Proctor on the Book of Common Prayer, p. 35»- 43° LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. were not ordained to be gazed upon, but that we should duly use them : that the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper was not by Christ's ordinance reserved, carried about, Hfted up, or worshipped ; that transubstantiation is repugnant to Scripture, overthroweth the nature of a Sacrament, and hath given occasion to many superstitions. Every word was weeded out of the Service which might be supposed to imply that Christ was otherwise present than in the heart and soul of such as rightly and worthily receive with faith the holy Sacrament.* The posture of kneeling is declared to be for a signification of humble and grateful acknow- ledgment of the benefits of Christ therein given to all worthy receivers, but that no adoration thereby is intended, or ought to be done either unto the Sacramental Bread or Wine there bodily received, or unto any corporal presence of Christ's natural Flesh and Blood. The Service was mainly compiled by Cranmer and Ridley, who were assisted by other eminent Reformers. Waterland says : " I may spare myself the trouble of re- citing the sentiments of Bishop Ridley and Bishop Latimer and Mr. Bradford of that time, and of Bishop Jewel, who came not long after, for they all agreed in the main things with Archbishop Cranmer, who may therefore be looked upon instar omnium, while in him we have all." He de- scribes Cranmer as one whose method was " not to strike out any new hypotheses or theories by strength of wit, but to inquire after the old paths, and there to abide. He was a judicious man and a well-read divine, and more particularly in what concerns the Eucharist." f " I may shut up this account" (he says) " with the ex- cellent words of Archbishop Cranmer, as follows : — " ' The first Catholic Christian faith is most plain, clear, and comfortable, without any difficulty, scruple, or doubt : that is to say, that our Saviour Christ, although He be * Hook. E. P., Vol. IL, B. V., ch. Ixvii., pp. 5, 6. t Vol. IV., pp. 601, 603. THE COMMUNION SERVICE. 431 sitting in Heaven in equality with His Father, is our life, strength, food, and sustenance ; who by His death de- livered us from death, and daily nourishes and increases us to eternal life. And in token hereof. He hath prepared bread to be eaten and wine to be drunk of us in His Holy Supper, to put us in remembrance of His said death and of the celestial feeding, nourishing, increasing, and of all the benefits which we have thereby : which benefits, through faith and the Holy Ghost, are exhibited and given unto all that worthily receive the said Holy Supper. This, the husbandman at his plough, the weaver at his loom, and the wife at her rock, can remember and give thanks unto God for the same : this is the very doctrine of the Gospel, with the consent wholly of all the old ecclesiastical doc- tors.'"* Such is the admirable summing up of the opinions — " the one voice "^of the mighty men who settled our Reformed Service.f We are further provided with an exposition of this Service, that is not less authoritative from its intrinsic excellence, than from its being the final interpretation adopted by the Queen in Council. In this it is stated that, " At the date of the First Prayer Book of Edward VI. (1548-9) the doctrine of the English Church as to the real presence, and the nature of the Holy Communion, was undecided ; the Book therefore enjoined no change in the form of the Altar, but spoke of the rite itself as the Lord's Supper, commonly called the High Mass, and of the structure indifferently by the names of the Altar and the Lord's Table. It contains a prayer for the conse- cration of the sacred elements, in which the sign of the * Vol. IV., p. 610. t Ridley's summary is as follows :— " The whole substance of our sacrifice which is frequented of the Church in the Lord's Supper, consisteth in prayers, praise, and the giving of thanks, and in remembering and shewing forth of that sacrifice once offered upon the altar of the Cross, that the same might continually be had in reverence by mystery, which once only and no more was offered for the price of our redemption."— (Disp. at Oxford, Works, p. 211.) 432 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. cross is to be used. The bread is to be unleavened and round as it was aforetime. The corporas, the paten, the chalice, the vestments, are all articles directed to be used in the Roman Catholic Ritual, and spoken of by those names in the Missal. But by the time when the Second Prayer Book was introduced, a great change had taken place in the opinion of the English Church, and the conse- quence was, that on the revision of the Service, these several matters were completely altered." After having specified some of the alterations, and referred to the Articles of 1 562 as setting forth with great precision the distinction between the Lord's Supper and the Sacrifice of the Mass, the Judgment proceeds to say : — " This change in the view taken of the nature of the Sac- raments naturally called for a corresponding change in the ancient Altar. It was no longer to be an Altar of sacri- fice, but merely a Table at which the communicants were to partake of the Lord's Supper." In another part of the Judgment, it is said that " the distinction between an Altar and a Communion Table is ,in itself essential and deeply founded in the most important ■difference in matters of faith between Protestants and Ro- manists ; namely, in the different notions of the nature of .the Lord's Supper which prevailed in the Roman Catholic Church at the time of the Reformation, and those which were introduced by the Reformers. By the former it was considered a sacrifice of the Body and Blood of the Sa- viour. The Altar was the place on which the sacrifice was to be made ; the elements were to be consecrated, and, being so consecrated, were treated as the actual Body and Blood of the Victim. The Reformers, on the other hand, considered the Holy Communion, not as a sacrifice but as a feast to be celebrated at the Lord's Table, though, as to the consecration of the elements, and the effect of this consecration, and several other points, they differed greatly amongst themselves." The distinction stated by Cudworth, in his learned THE COMMUNION SERVICE. 433 discourse on the subject, is cited with approval : — " We see, then, how that theological controversy, which had cost so many disputes, whether the Lord's Supper be a sacrifice, is already decided ; for it is not ' sacrificium,' but ' epu- luml not a sacrifiice, but a feast upon sacrifice ; or else, in other words, not ablatio sacrificii, but, as Tertullian excel- lently speaks, participatio sacrificii — not the offering of something up to God upon an altar, but the eating of something which comes from God's altar, and is set upon our tables. Neither was it even known amongst the Jews or Heathens, that those tables upon which they did eat their sacrifices, should be called by the name of altars . Therefore, he (St. Paul) must needs call the Communion Table by the name of the Lord's Table, i.e., the Table upon which God's meat is eaten, not His Altar upon which it is offered."* I may here observe, that this treatise of Cudworth is noticed by Archdeacon Waterland as setting forth the prevailing doctrine of our divines both before and since : " that there is not any proper or material sacrifice in the Eucharist, but a symbolical feast upon a sacrifice, that is to say, upon the grand sacrifice itself, commemorated under certain symbols."-]- Cudworth published his treatise in 1642 ; and in 1661 the abortive attempt was made to in- troduce the words " offer up" into the Rubric as to placing the Bread and Wine on the Table.:[: The injunctions of' Ridley and of Queen Elizabeth, as to Tables and Altars, are set out in the Judgment. To the allegation that the Communion Table is generally so arranged as to be more like a fixed structure than a movable table, the answer is given, " that the distinction between an Altar and a Table is in itself essential; that the circumstances which constitute the distinction, how- ever trifling in themselves, are, for that reason, important." * Liddel v. Westerton. Brodrich and Freemantle's Eccl. Judgment, P.O. 144-152. t Vol. IV., p. 725. I Ante, p. 425. 434 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. This interpretation of the Articles and Formularies was pronounced by some of the most eminent judicial autho- rities in England, attached members of the Church, and in every respect entitled to our deference. The late Arch- bishop of Canterbury, and the present Bishop of London, concurred in the Judgment, which was reported to and adopted by the Queen in Council. It is not lawful for any minister of the National Church to impugn or oppose what has been thus settled by lawful authority. ■ It is binding as the law of the National Church. It is no more open tc be impugned or opposed by a minister of the National Church, than the exposition of an Act of Parliament by the House of Lords on a writ of error, could be opposed oi set aside by any subject of this Realm. It does not appear that any attempt has been made to show that the Reformed Service, as it has been established, is not of the character and import so clearly stated in this Judgment. But a method of impugning is sometimes adopted, by manufacturing a catena of extracts from the voluminous writings of theologians, from which doctrine is extracted, in derogation of that established by law. These should never be taken on trust without eJcamining the context, and having regard to other considerations that are material to a right understanding of the authors. Amongst the names of those from whose writings selec- tions are thus made, we find several of the Non-Jurors — seceders from our Church ! In an able comment of Mr. Goode, on a catena, he says : — " The true test of the consonancy of the authors under review with the teaching of any particular divine is this — not whether this divine used certain phrases that they use to express their doctrine, but whether they use or would be willing to use certain other phrases and statements which that divine used, and by which he showed what his real views were."* * Goode on the Eucharist, Vol. II., p. 958. THE COMMUNION SERVICE. 435 Two passages from Waterland (and many such might be added) illustrate the force of this remark, and may be used as tests when his name is found in a catena : — " The Fathers well understood that to make Christ's natural body the real sacrifice of the Eucharist, would not only be absurd in reason, but highly presumptuous and profane ; and that to jnake the outwai'd symbols a proper sacrifice, a material sacrifice, would be entirely contrary to Gospel principles, degrading the Christian sacrifice into a Jewish one, yea, and making it much lower and meaner than the Jewish, both in value and dignity. The right way, therefore, was to make the sacrifice spiritual, and it could be no other upon Gospel principles!' * " No one has any authority or right to offer Christ as a sacrifice, whether really or symbolically, but Christ Himself Such a sacrifice is His sacrifice, not ours ; offered for us, and not by us, to God the Father He is not the matter or subject of our sacrifices, but the Mediator. We offer not Him, but by Him." f The Articles and the Formularies, including the Ru- brics and the Homilies incorporated with the Thirty-fifth Article, are part of the law of Church and State. It is in these, and not in the writings of Non-Jurors or in de- tached extracts from other divines, that we are, in the first instance, to seek for the authorized doctrine of the National Church. They are by law established, and as such they must be interpreted according to rules of law. These rules are not arbitrary or conventional, depending on technical distinctions ; but, on the contrary, the well- considered deductions of sound reason and common-sense, commanding assent from their intrinsic propriety and justice. "The most important of all these rules," says • Vol. IV., p. 762. t Vol. IV., p. 753- 436 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Dr. Lushington,* " and which must be applied before all others, is that where anything has been clearly expressed by the words of the Articles, no other meaning should be attempted to be put upon them by reference to any authority whatever Indeed, it is manifest that if this rule be not observed, the Articles could no longer be considered as settling the doctrines therein contained as the doctrines of the Church, but it would be open to anyone to try the truth of the Articles over again, and to contend that their plain interpretation was not correct, but ought to be reformed according to the authorities cited. Hence all would be doubt, uncertainty, and confusion : for it is an easy matter, among the voluminous stores of theo- ■logical learning, to select particular passages which, taken alone, might, by the ingenuity of disputants, if admitted ;as a standard of comparison, tend, priind facie, to show ■that another meaning might be put on the Articles, dif- ferent in some respects from that which the ordinary rules of construction would affix." f What is here said as to the Articles, may be applied to the Formularies, to this extent — that the doctrine therein distinctly stated, or plainly involved in or to be collected from that which is expressed, must be taken to be the doctrine established by law, " as this Church and Realm hath' received the same." When a subject on which an author treats has not • been discussed in his own time, it is not uncommon for a writer of eminence to furnish a store of materials for controversy rather than to give out distinct conclusions, by which he is prepared to abide. " How inconsistent [Jeremy] Taylor often is!" says Coleridge (and he could appreciate his characteristic excellence as well as his cha- racteristic faults).| In another part of the same volume, * Ditcher v. Denison. Brodr. and Freem. 163. t Special Report of Proceedings at Bath, 1856. t " Notes on English Divines," Vol, I., p. 194. THE COMMUNION SERVICE. 437 where he comments on the use which Taylor himself makes of a catena, he says : " It would require a volume to show the qualifications with which these excerpta must be read. There is no one source of error more fruitful than this custom of quoting detached sentences!' * When we use the test of the Articles and Formularies to try the lawfulness of doctrine which may have been preached in one of our churches, the language used by the preacher should be interpreted in the sense in which it must be supposed to have been understood by those to whom it was addressed. If, when it is thus taken in its common acceptation, it is found to be inconsistent with the plain sense and import of the Articles and Formu- laries, it is unlawful. In the case of a learned treatise there may be such limitations stated, such explanatory comment and such a glossary superadded, that a careful or learned reader cannot be misled ; but a sermon preached is not generally so guarded, and may altogether mislead those who are unused to scholastic distinctions, and are unequal to lofty flights.f The aeronaut may be at ease and Self-possessed, when the novice who has ventured on an ascent, may become giddy and confused. Two rules should be carefully attended to, if we desire that our Church should continue to be National : — 1st. To ascertain the meaning of the Articles and the Formularies of the National Church, from the words in which they are expressed, and by the settled rules of interpretation. 2nd. To judge of the teaching or preaching of any minister of the National Church by the meaning naturally ♦ "Notes on English Divines," Vol. I., p. 310- See, also, Hare's Charges, Vol. III., p. 229. t See the loth Irish Canon of 1634. 438 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. conveyed to those to whom his words have been advisedly addressed. We must not suffer ourselves to be diverted, in any case, from the direct comparison of what is taught by the preacher, with the estabHshed standard of the Church. To test it by a reference to the garbled opinion of divines, however eminent, whose authority could not be admitted to set aside what the Church has declared and the State has established by law, is worse than irrelevant ; it is nei- ther lawful nor expedient. " The Court is most anxious," says Dr. Lushington, " that its Judgment should not be misunderstood ; that it should not be supposed to express any opinion that the clergy of this Realm should be re- strained in their just liberty of fully discussing or inter- preting what is really a subject (to use the words of Lord Stowell) of dubious interpretation, or of advocating in such cases their own opinions. What the Court condemns is the imposition, by reference to extraneous sources, of a meaning contrary and repugnant to that which the plain words of the Article import, which, in fact, is tantamount to the alteration of the Articles themselves." * We have a National Church, and the law of Church and State, which every minister of that Church is solemnly bound to obey, prohibits him from teaching or preaching any doctrine that is inconsistent with that which is set forth in the Articles and Formularies. The final inter- pretation which is given according to law, cannot be lawfully opposed or impugned by a minister of the Church. The obedience of our actions may be compelled : the de- ference of our thoughts may be claimed : neither Church nor State can go further. The Church and the State re- quire that he who is authorized, and has solemnly pledged himself, " to minister the Doctrine and the Sacraments, as this Church and Realm hath received the same"\ should' * Brodr. and Freem. 164-5. t Office for the Ordering of Priests. THE COMMUNION SERVICE. 439 not use his authority to oppose or impugn any part of that which he is bound to minister honestly to the people. " That any clergyman should assume the liberty of incul- cating his own private opinions in direct opposition to the doctrines of the Established Church, in a place set apart for its own public worship, is not more contrary to the nature of a National Church than to all honest and ra- tional conduct." * ♦Judgment of Sir W. Scott (Lord Stowell) ia Stone's case. E. & F., P. C. C, 350. SUGGESTIONS SUBMITTED FOR CONSIDERATION ON THE ATHANASIAN CREED. (1876.) SINCE the close of the last session of the General Synod of the Church of Ireland, Episcopal Visitation Charges have been delivered. There is not any objection to have the grounds on which the Synod proceeded in their last session calmly and deliberately reviewed, for the subject is certainly one of the deepest interest and importance to the Church of Ireland. As all her members, Episcopal, Clerical, and Lay, are bound by the constitution and laws to which they have solemnly pledged their submission, it is incum- bent on each to contribute his help to the best of his ability and opportunity, in aid of the responsible settle- ment of the question at issue. The recent Charges of the Bishop of Derry and of the Archbishop of Armagh claim attention at present. It is satisfactory to find from the admission made by the latter that " he has had ample opportunity for a calm and con- siderate review of the questions that were decided " in the Synod during the last session. This would lead us to ex- pect a statement of everything relevant and material that can be brought forward in support of the side of the issue upheld by the minority. The other side has been ably sustained by the Episcopal expositions of the Bishops of Meath, Killaloe, Ossory, and Limerick, and (to some ex- tent) by the Bishop of Down. THE ATHANASIAN CREED. 44I First of all then, it is to be noted that the question is strictly Liturgical. It is on the omission of the rubric which directs that the people are to join with the officiating minister, in saying or singing at Morning Prayer, instead of the Apostles' Creed, on certain appointed days, " the Con- ■ fession of our Christian faith, commonly called the Creed of St. A thanasius ;" and next as to the insertion of a rubric directing the Liturgical use of a definite portion of this Psalm (Quicunque Vult), instead of the Apostles' Creed, on these days, by the minister and people standing. That portion, which would thus be left without a rubrical direc- tion for Liturgical use, is that which on the one side is said not to be strictly part of the Church's Creed or Confession ! whilst that portion of this Psalm which is affirmative and declaratory of doctrine (and this part only) would be re- tained for Liturgical use by the people and the ministers in the public worship of our Church on the days ap- pointed. No question has been made that suggests the removal of the Psalm Quicunque Vult from the place which it occupies in the Book of Common Prayer. The full effect (whatever it may be) of the Eighth Article will remain without interference ; nothing is sought to be varied but in relation to the Liturgical use of THE FIVE VERSES of the Psalm which are known as the " admonitory clauses" The General Synod has proceeded on the view taken by the majority of our Bishops, that these five clauses are not credenda* of the so-called Creed ; and further that the compulsory use of them in public worship (as they stand in the Liturgy) by the people and the minister, offends the conscienceis of many, to whom they are a stumbling-block. The Synod therefore could not regard this compulsory use as edifying in public worship, when we ought with one mind and one mouth to glorify God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, and which therefore we ought not to * Chron. Conv. 292, May 7th, 1873. 404, May gth, 1873. 442 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. make an occasion of stumbling to any of our brethren who are thereby offended or made weak. It does not appear that any further progress has been made with the retranslation of the Quicunque Vult, that was directed at Lambeth in 1871, and afterwards made and reported in 1872. The laity of the Church of England have had the express assurance of the Report of the Bishop of Gloucester's Episcopal Committee, that several of the clauses which they are at present directed by the law of their Church, to join with the minister in publicly reciting, have been mistranslated, and do not therefore convey the milder meaning that may (as is said) have been intended by the document, to the reception of which the Pope gave his sanction, " ut quasi regula fidei habeatur." The amended translation would seem sufficient to mitigate objection so far as relates to some of the admonitory clauses; but there would remain the second clause, which is perhaps the most open to popular objection. I find, however, in the Report of the Revision Committee of our Synod, 7th October, 1871, the Lord Primate in the Chair, Notice was given by the Bishop of Cork on behalf of the Archbishop of Dublin — That in the Creed of St. Athanasius, these words be substituted for the second verse — " Which faith it behoveth every one to keep whole and undefiled : " and these words for the forty-second— " This is the Catholic Faith, which it behoveth every- one to keep whole and undefiled." Afterwards on the 9th October, the Lord Primate in the Chair, on the motion of Dr. Salmon, it was unanimously resolved— " That ' the damnatory clauses ' of the Creed of St. Athanasius be not used in public worship." Notice was given by the Lord Bishop of Cork on behalf of the Archbishop of Dublin of his intention to move — That the first clause be as follows — " Whosoever would be saved, before all things it behoveth him to hold the Catholic Faith." THE ATHANASIAN CREED. 443 This was moved on the loth October, but was rejected. His Grace then withdrew his other proposals, which had not then been considered by the Synod. If this suggestion of the Archbishop of DubHn, together with the recommendations of the Bishop of Gloucester's Committee, should be adopted ; or if the suggestion of the Cambridge Professors, as to the freedom with which (as they advise) it is the privilege and the duty of the Church to deal with the admonitory clauses, should be acted on, in accordance with the opinion in their Report made to the Bishop of Gloucester's Committee, it would be quite open to settle the question, without involving the apprehension of consequences or causing the distress and disquietude, the fear of which (it is but too plain) deterred the Convocation of York from taking decided action on the motion of the Dean of Chester in 1872, and in 1873 on the motion of the Bishop of Manchester for discontinuing the compulsory use of the Quicunque. It may be admitted that there should be in the document of Instruction some form of admonition for Clergy and people, but it must now be conformable to the Reformation rule of faith, i.e., the Canonical Scriptures, and to them only. I presume that the superseding of the recital of the Apostles' Creed will not be adhered to, but that further change seems so far inevitable ; and that until we secure what will be on the whole the best practicable form, we shall retain without wavering the position to which we have attained. The Sermon of Dr. Pusey, and the second part of Butler's Analogy, especially chaps. II., III., and VI., would supply ample materials for framing an admonition on the respon- sibility for our faith. The issue raised being what I have stated, and the Synod having, with the approval of the majority of the Bishops, so far proceeded on the grounds that I have pointed 'out, the onus is at present on the dissentient pre- lates and their associates in the Synod, to show some flaw in the argument or failure in the proof by which the course of the Synod has been sustained. 444 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. The Bishop of Derry opens his elaborate Charge with a well-merited eulogium on the late Bishop of St. David's, whom he describes as " a great prelate and deep thinker." No man could gainsay the vigour, penetration, and grasp of his intellect, or his fairness and moderation — his habit of mind was eminently judicial. Doubtless he had no liking for restless change nor for revision that was not shown to be needful ; but when any dqmand for revision was sustained by sound argument, he never met it with an unreasoning and obstinate " non possumus " opposi- tion. With reference to the question that we have to deal with, no one has expressed himself more clearly, as may be seen in his opinion recorded in the Appendix to the 4th Report of the Ritual Commissioners. It is in these words : — " I protest against the compulsory use of the Athanasian Creed as not only an evil on account of the effect it produces on many of the most intelligent and attached members of our Church, but a wrong in itself It may be impossible to ascertain the extent of the evil, or the proportion of those who are offended by the Creed to those who acquiesce in it, or even find themselves edified by it. But this appears to me a point of comparatively little moment. The important question is, whether those who are offended by the Creed have just and reasonable grounds of objection to it. I think they have. It appears to me that in adopting such a document, the Church both overstept the bounds of its rightful authority, and exercised the usurped authority in an uncharitable and mischievous way. Nothing (as it seems to me) could have warranted such a step but a special revelation, placing the Creed on a level with Holy Writ. It may be possible for theologians to show by technical arguments, that it is a legitimate development of doctrine implicitly contained in Scripture ; but this, however fully admitted, would not justify the Church in exacting assent to their conclusions under the penalty of eternal perdition. This was, in fact, creating a THE ATHANASIAN CREED. 445 new offence against the Divine law, and introducing a new term of salvation, on merely human authority. Look- ing to the period when this innovation was first imposed on Christians, we may find much excuse for its authors. But viewed in the light of the fundamental principles of a Reformed Church, it appears to me, as forming part of our public Services, utterly indefensible. I strongly disapprove of the explanatory note which has been appended to the Athanasian Creed. I believe not only that it must fail to serve the purpose for tvhich it was adopted, but that it will aggravate the evil which it was designed to remedy. If the ' Condemnations ' have hitherto been generally mis- Understood (which I do not believe to be the case), it is too late for any Commission, even if it could speak with autho- rity, to correct the error of public opinion on this head ; and if this was possible, it could not be effected by an ex- planation which is vitiated by the ambiguity of the term ' wilfully,' on which the whole meaning depends. The un- successful attempt will be generally regarded as the admis- sion of an evil, which ought to have been treated in a different manner or left untouched." His general indisposition to unnecessary revision made him very scrupulous in requiring to be satisfied that a par- ticular case pressed on him was urgent and well sustained in reason and justice. A Bishop (it is said by the Bishop of Derry) cannot be a free enquirer as to a Creed of the Church. But the claims of truth may imperatively require of him to make diligent, full, and impartial inquiry into incidental matters, that become material. Doubtless, the Bishop of a Diocese is especially (because officially) bound to guard the deposit of the Christian faith; to preserve and help to perpetuate it in its integrity for the Church. The Bishop of Derry, by lawful enquiry, might have easily found in one of the volumes of Ecclesiastical Documents published A.D. 1871, by two eminently learned Scholars of the University of Oxford, a venerable precedent of the form of an Episcopal 446 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. confession of faith presented to the Archbishop of Canter- bury by the Bishop-elect of Worcester, at the close of the eighth century. In this document a portion of the Psalm Quicunque is used (consisting of eleven verses), and from this coni&ssion, four of the five admonitory clauses {a\\ ex- cept the first) have been omitted. There is not any intima- tion from any quarter that this omission was improper — much less that it was a mutilation of a Creed of the Church. The clauses of this Episcopal formula are set forth as con- tinuous in the document ; and they are introduced in the following terms : — - " Insuperet orthodoxam, catholicam apostolicam fidem, sicut didici, paucis exponam verbis, quia scriptum est qui- cunque vult salvus esse," followed by eleven verses. The Bishop-elect superadds his acceptance of the decrees of the first six General Councils. (Haddan and Stubbs's "Councils and Ecclesiastical Documents," Vol. III., p. 526.) Here, then, is an early Episcopal compendium of the " Creed " which he had learned {sicut didici), and which it was his sacred duty to preserve and perpetuate as " an orthodox Catholic and Apostolic profession of faith." And with the Quicunque Vult before him, as it existed in the year 798, he omits all the admonitory clauses after the first, and this was used and accepted as an "orthodox, Catholic, and Apostolic " confession.* The whole of the Synod's treatment of the document {i.e., the Quicunque Vult) rests, says the Bishop of Derry, " upon the theory of separable clauses " — but he adds, " if the clauses are ideally separable, they are practically inse- parable." What is really meant by this figurative language ? When dealing with a document that has more than one operative character, and may be used in any one of these at election, this is practically effected in law by passing over for the occasion, and omitting to use, any clause that is not appropriate to the instrument in the character * If the Quicunque was not then completed, it cannot claim to be treated SIS an inseparable whole. THE ATHANASIAN CREED. 447 selected. Cases under the Stamp Laws frequently occur, in which an additional stamp is required on account of each of the several distinctive characters in which the document is capable of being used. It often happens (says Mr. Preston, in his learned work on Abstracts of Title, 3 Prest. Abstr., p. 58), that a deed contains not only a simple conveyance from one person to another, but also contains releases from persons who have charges or col- lateral interests, &c., and of course each part of the Deed must be considered and analyzed, and the same effect allowed to it, as if these distinct Acts were contained in distinct Deeds. The ideal part of the process involves a careful analysis in order to distinguish ; the practical part is simply to omit (as occasion may warrant) such clause as is not appropriate for use on the occasion. To call this " muti- lation" can only mislead. It is but a figurative and " ideal " phraseology. The Bishop-elect of Worcester must have taken some of the clauses of the Quicunque to be separable, not only ideally but practically separable, when he left them out of his formula, and thus practically separated them from the portion that he retained for use. That the " admonitory clauses " can be (and have frequently been thus) distinguished as a class is beyond question. As to the principle of separability, the Bishop of Derry admits that it is lawful, but he contends that it is not expedient in the present instance to resort to it. This, how- ever, is a different question, and must be answered upon a due consideration of the alternative proposed — that is, the synodical declaration. What does the Bishop of Salisbury say to this — commended so highly and deservedly as he is by the Bishop of Derry? The Archbishop of Canterbury (as we are informed by the Bishop of Salisbury) suggested to the Bishops of his Province, that the qualification which each of them had in his mind, of the meaning of the ad- monitory clauses, should be embodied and expressed in the form of a note, so as to indicate the sense in which they were willing to understand the words of these clauses. 448 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. His Grace thought that there were certain classes of per- sons who might thus have their consciences reheved, and gradually the difficulty would diminish. But he admitted this would not go beyond a remedy for clerical use, and would not be applicable to the common use of people ■assembled for public worship. The people who usually meet for public worship in mixed congregations, have not been trained to this artificial use of words. The laity have been for the most part familiar with the ordinary meaning of words taken in their plain and popular sense ; with them the very power of ordinary language lies in the fact that it is the spontaneous expression of thought. Hence, the established judicial rule is, that whatever is appropriated to public use must be taken to have been published in the sense in which men of average intelli- gence would naturally understand the words according to the ordinary sense of mankind. And if any one occasion could be noted as of greater importance than another, to which this rule applies, it would seem to be where people meet together at the time of Common Prayer, for the public worship of the Almighty, professing to join in a common tribute of loving adoration and praise, with one mind and one mouth to glorify God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, " in a tongue under- standed of the people." The Bishop of Salisbury, in the very able Appendix to which the Bishop of Derry has so emphatically directed our attention, says, in page 27, that he at first thought the proposal of the Archbishop of Canterbury to be wise and healing, and that he felt ready to lend his aid to it. But (he adds) " further thought has entirely changed my mind respecting it. I, like others, accept these verses of the Creed, with a gloss. I freely acknowledge it. But when I attempt to put my own gloss into words, I find myself wholly at a loss to do so. The attempt breaks down under nie. I cannot word my own gloss without practi- cally annihilating or taking well-nigh the entire force and THE ATHANASIAN CREED. 449 power from the words." He then proceeds to examine the several proposals that have been made, and shows their insufficiency. Of one, that he says is the most innocent, he asks, " Would it not have the effect of simply annulling the clauses altogether ? Would it not kill the clauses in the process of extracting their sting?" He condemns it as " feeble and unsatisfactory." " Better by far," he adds, " expunge the clauses altogether than, while you let them stand in all their terrible apparent strength, evacuate them of all their force by so weak and unsatisfactory a device." Again : — " If, then, none of these methods approve them- selves, is there any other by which the objections sup- posed to be reasonable, and the distresses certainly real, which are felt by niany may be obviated, short of disusing this venerable and, in its affirmative statements, most valu- able exposition of the Catholic Faith? Those who may ■ think proper to read the Sermon here printed will have no doubt what my answer to this question will be — ' I would omit the damnatory clauses altogether.'" He proceeds on the principle that " God has reserved to Himself the ultimate appeal in matters in which man's agency (and therefore man's fallibility) is intermingled." He holds that this is so in the making of Creeds, and that the Church of England, however convinced of the truth of the doctrines set forth in the Creeds, has not the power nor the authority to go beyond a sentence of excommunication ; pronouncing the damnatory clauses (he affirms) is ultra vires. The use, in the public services of the Church, of damnatory clauses (he contends) cannot give them any authoritative sanction —for, as he affirms, " it is notorious that not only now, but for centuries past, these unhappy clauses so interpreted have been a sorrow and a stumbling-block to many faithful people."* The effect of such manipulations for clerical use, when • See also the Speech of the late Bishop of St. David's (Conv. Cant.) (U. H. oFeb., 1872). G G 4SO LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. they succeed, are perilous. They lead those who receive them to be satisfied with a loose interpretation of exact and express statements ; and, in fact, that they need not look for the meaning of a writer in his own mode of ex- pressing it, however precise, but to take up contentedly with inadequate, forced, and vague explanations of his language, however ill they agree with what he says, pro- vided they make him contradict something which it is supposed he designed to contradict. It cannot be neces- sary to dwell on how hazardous a mode this is in general, of seeking for an author's sense, and how calculated it is to favour evasions or misrepresentations of his meaning. (See O'Brien's Sermons on Justification, p. 498, Note S, 2nd edit.) The attempt in this matter has failed to complete a Synodical Declaration ; and there is nothing left that can properly interfere with the natural sense and ordinary meaning of the plain words of the admonitory clauses. It would be most undesirable to establish so vicious a pre- cedent in the use of words in our Liturgy, as that of imposing or accrediting a meaning that might be for the clerical mind sufficient, but to the laity in general would seem, at the best, both forced and evasive. Language for popular use, not required to be special, from the nature of the subject, ought not to be such as in its natural sense to suggest a meaning that is not really intended. The Bishop of Derry has had the conscientious courage to call these two as his leading witnesses — the late Bishop of St. David's and the Bishop of Salisbury. After this, it would seem no longer open to him to contend that the admonitory clauses should be regarded as an integral and essential part of " the Confession of our Christian faith." After the publication of this remarkable Sermon, which was preached in July, 1872, at Salisbury, another (to which the Bishop of Derry has not alluded) was preached before the University of Oxford by the Rev. Dr. Pusey on Advent Sunday in the same year (1872). In an elaborate Appendiji THE ATHANASIAN CREED. 451 to this, there is put forward what professes to be an answer to the Appendix of the Bishop of Sahsbury. With those who regard the definite faith that is put forward in the Quicunque Vult as on a level with the Holy Scriptures, or as not less infallible and obligatory, Dr. Pusey's arguments may find favour ; but with those who hold that a document that has been completed by human agency is not on a level with God's holy and inspired Word (the only rule of faith adopted by our Reformed Church), the case is different. The Sermon of Dr. Pusey to which this Appendix is added is in itself a very able and valuable exposition of Holy Scripture on the subject of the responsibility of the intellect in matters of faith ; but as to the Quicunque, the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God. In the second Charge of Bishop Moberly, delivered subsequently in his diocese in the year 1873, he explains with gjreat deliberation his settled view on the question of dealing with the damnatory clauses; and also with the doctrinal clauses of this Creed. In p. 53 he says : " Let me then say first, that I accept with all my heart the whole of the doctrinal statements of that Creed. I am most thankful for them, and entirely desire that they should be retained for occasional use in the public service as a defence against errors which have endangered the faith in old times, and to the revival of which the Church would be dangerously liable if these doctrinal statements should be disused or forgotten. But I am distressed at what are called, and (I will venture to say) not unjustly called, the damnatory clauses. In what appears to me to be the plain and the historical sense of the words, they seem to say what I consider it to be beyond the powers of the Church to say, and in that sense I hope and believe that they exceed the truth." " The Synodical Declaration does not heal the sore. In some degree it tries to hide it. I accept it so far thank- fully as the expression of the sense in which the members 452 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. of the Convocation of Canterbury are able to understand the clauses. To my own mind those clauses sound stronger, harder, sadder than the declaration allows. They seem to be, what I have no doubt they were histori- cally intended to be, the sentence of absolute, final, irre- versible loss and ruin to all except those who keep whole and undefiled the Catholic Faith as contained in the Creed. Historically speaking, men, both within and without the Catholic Church, have often not shrunk from pronounc- ing terrible sentences of reprobation." He winds up this part of the Charge by saying, that it is the " anxious expression of an opinion which in candour and honesty ought not to be suppressed." * The Bishop of Derry commends the statement of the Bishop of Salisbury, in the Appendix to his Sermon, as putting forward " with unrivalled clearness and power" the grounds of rejecting the damnatory clauses. He thus sanctions the premises which lead to the conclusion that in the Charge of 1873 has been in effect stated. It clearly shows that the only remedy available, to which, in some form at least, sooner or later, resort must be had, is the omission of the damnatory, without prejudice to the re- tention of the doctrinal, clauses. Neither of the Convo- cations in England, nor both together, have the power which we have in our Synod, and therefore it may be quite natural for them to seek and wait upon the largest help that may be afforded, whether in a Pan-Anglican Synod or elsewhere ; but would it be in like manner proper for us to wait upon the intervention of any other body (and especially of a body without a lay element in it) to super- sede or otherwise control our own decision, advisedly and responsibly to be made in accordance with the funda- mental laws of our own independent Legislative Body, that regulates the Liturgy of the Church of Ireland ? I may admit that we ought not to decide finally without "the * See Swainson's " Plea for Time," p. 6 (1873). THE ATHAN ASIAN CREED. 453 fullest consideration, the most acknowledged need, and the highest authority" that it is within our power and according to our duty to resort to ; and I will be thankful for any help given to inform our judgment on whatever is material and relevant. The Bishop of Salisbury has not been able to point out any authority in England to wait for, that would be complete, to warrant such a change which he re- gards as ultimately necessary, and therefore he proposes a temporary expedient for preparing the way " for the only real remedy which he believes the case to admit ;" but as a remedy for the difficulty, he admits the expedient to be " valueless." The Bishop of Salisbury advises "that they should wait for the assembling of a Pan-Anglican Synod ; an authority not so complete as we fain would have it, but not inadequate to warrant such a change, which," says he, " ultimately, I regard as necessary. That in the meantime they might use the third suggestion, i.e., some such note as should declare that " these clauses are no otherwise to be understood than as the general sentences of the necessity of belief and the danger of unbelief are set forth to us in Holy Scripture. As a remedy for the difficulty before us, such a note " (he says) " is in my judgment valueless ; but as a temporary expedient, and as preparing the way for the only real remedy which I believe the case to admit, it would be useful." Dr. Pusey in his Appendix has protested against a majority of a Pan-Anglican Synod being allowed to pre- vail over the Convocations of the Church of England ; much less then should we not allow it to prevail over the Synod of the Church of Ireland, where our laity are represented. It could not be affirmed that our Synod has not full and exclusive power to regulate the ritual of public worship in the Church of Ireland. In the case of the Archdeacon of Dublin as to the Lectionary of our Church, and in the Report of the Committee (of which several of the leading 454 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. legal members of the Synod were members) it is said " that an exemption from the obligation of the law as it •was altered would be especially injurious in cases such as that then in question, because control over the arrange- ments of Divine Service seems essential to a religious body which regulates its ritual by a settled law."* The ministry of the Church is for the people, and not the people for the ministry, and therefore the public services of the Church are to be regulated by its supreme Legislative Body, with a view to the edification of the people. Every particular national Church "hath authority to ordain, change, and abolish ceremonies or rites of the Church ordained only by man's authority, so that, all things be done to edifying." We used our liberty in establishing a Lectionary that we deemed to be most meet for the peace and greater edifying of our own people, and I do not see why in the present matter we might not exercise a like liberty. If any change in any of the Articles of Religion (which we have received and approved as the basis of our com- munion with the sister Church of England and other sister Churches) should be in question, I freely admit that this should not be dealt with by us until after conference and (if possible) agreement with our brethren of the sister Church of England, and the other sister Churches through- out the world with which we have solemnly pledged ourselves to maintain cgmmunion. But we must bear in mind that neither of the statutes which have been passed in the last Session of the Synod, and which await completion in the next, can interfere, nor do they in any respect purport to interfere, with the reten- tion of the Psalm Quicunque Vult as it stands in the Book of Common Prayer in its appointed place, after the end of the Order for Morning and Evening Prayer through- out the year, and before the Litany. These statutes relate to the Liturgical use of a certain specified portion, and the * See Report of Revision Committee, new note at top of p. 47. THE ATHANASIAN CREED. 4S5 Liturgical disuse of another specified portion, of this Psalm in Divine Service at the time of Common Prayer on three annual occasions in the Church of Ireland. This is exclu- sively a Liturgical question. We cannot delegate to any other body than the General Synod the duty of regulating this Liturgical use for our own people. There is a sound and material distinction between the retaining of this Psalm as an accredited document of the Church, to be used as the law of the Church shall permit, and our using it Liturgically in our public Service, as part of the Service to be used compulsorily by the people, instead of the Apostles' Creed. There is a fitness which we all feel in the rubrical direc- tion that both people and minister should join in saying the Creed which we designate the Apostles' Creed, in the public Service. It is the Creed of our baptism and of our Cate- chism, and it may well be supposed that all worshippers in our Church should be in a condition to join in saying this Creed in the public Services of the Church. We have also what is commonly called the Nicene Creed. The Rubric before it, after having directed the Priest to read the Gospel (the people all standing up), goes on to say : " And the Gospel ended, shall be sung or said the Creed following, the people still standing as before." Here there is no rubrical direction imposed on the people, that they should join with the minister in the public recital of this Creed. This is left to their own option as each may think fit. But in the case of the Quicunque Vult (commonly called the Creed of Athanasius) we are put under compul- sion. Its antiquity is matter of doubtful disputation, and also the compulsory use by the laity in any other branch of the Catholic Church except the Anglican has not been shown. Whether it is properly to be called a Creed or not, Waterland, in his Introduction, says that—" In compli- ance with custom, and to save myself the trouble of cir- cumlocution, I commonly speak of it under the name of 4S6 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. the Athanasian Creed, not designing thereby to intimate either that it is a Creed strictly and properly so called, or that it is of Athanasius' composing." As to the Creeds received in England (A.D. 1230), he says that the Athana- sian has the name of a Creed, " which yet," he adds, " was not its most usual or common title in those times, only the schoolmen, for order and method sake, chose to throw it under the head of Creeds." 1240. In this age (he says) Walter de Cantilupe, Bishop of Worcester, in his Synodical Constitutions, ex- horts his clergy to make themselves competent masters of the Psalm called Quicunque Vult, and of the greater and smaller Creed (that is, Nicene and Apostolical), that they might be able to instruct their people ; from whence we may observe (he adds) that at this time the Athanasian Formulary was distinguished here among us from the Creeds properly so called, being named a Psalm, and some- times a Hymn, suitably to the place it held in the Psalters among the other Hymns, Psalms, and Canticles of the Church, being also sung alternately in churches like the others. As to the supposed difficulty about the 28th and 29th verses of the Quicunque, I am quite willing to have the question further considered as to the 29th clause, and par- ticularly as it assumes a new aspect in the revised transla- tion presented in the Report of the Episcopal Committee. In this the 28th verse is : " He that willeth to be saved, let him thus think of the Trinity. The 29th in this translation is : " Furthermore it is necessary to eternal salvation that he also believe faithfully the incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ." These (if they shall be adopted) might suggest further modification, if within the power we have of making alterations. In case it should be resolved to leave the Quicunque intact, and to discontinue its compulsory use in the public services of the Church, we might retain it as a historic document in the Prayer Book, for a purpose of instruction — its primary purpose. We are not in a THE ATHANASIAN CREED. 457 condition to decide finally on the 29th, until we shall have pronounced finally on the 28th. It may here be noted that the 28th and 29th verses are omitted firom the Epis- copal formula of the Bishop-elect of Worcester. The Bishop of Derry has fallen back on Baxter's well- known commendation of the doctrine of the Trinity, of which Baxter speaks as being best explained in the Athanasian Creed. But there is no question at issue or in controversy upon this matter. We all agree with Baxter, as to the fundamental doctrines of the Church set forth in the Creed proper. We are now only concerned with the question as to the Liturgical use of the damnatory clauses, to which Baxter never gave his assent. Although at one time he seemed not indisposed to accept the explanation of Mr. Wallis and others, yet, when at the latter part of his life Baxter subscribed the Articles (including the Eighth), he explains what he meant thereby as to the Eighth Article ; that it was " subject to two declarations, one being that ' God of God,' in the Nicene Creed, does not affirm two Gods ; nor the damnatory clauses taken for part of the A thanasian Creed, though they be part of the Liturgy assented and consented to" — (Baxter's Practical Works, Vol. XV., p. S3 1.) In the discussion in the Convocation of Canterbury, 1 2th Feb., 1873, the Dean of Westminster said in explana- tion — " I was accused of making two statements without foundation ; one with regard to Chillingworth, and the other with regard to Baxter. Chillingworth condemned the damnatory clauses, and never withdrew his condemna- tion. Baxter, afer the Revolution, signed, as one of the last acts of his life, the Articles before the Court. The instrument delivered by him to the Court before which he signed the Articles is still extant, and contains a passage of peculiar interest. He declared that his approbation of the Athanasian Creed was confined to that part which was properly a Creed, and that he did not mean to express any assent to the damnatory clauses." 458 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. " I trust I shall not be again charged with making statements without foundation." (Chron. Convoc. of Can- terbury, L.H., p. i6i.) A point I have here to answer. It is this : The Bishop of Derry remarks " that no man of candid mind would be satisfied by permanently ceasing to repeat publicly certain statements in a Creed of which he is still obliged to declare at the most solemn moment of his life that it is thoroughly to be received and believed. That statement is either true or false. If it is false, away with the assent ; if it is true, repeat it to the people." But the point is as to compulsory use by the people in public worship. Is it suitably ex- pressed, and is its compulsory use for edification ? But further, as to the clergy. At the present time, under the law of our Church, what the clergy have to declare as to their belief is this : " I believe that the doctrine of the Church of Ireland therein set forth \i.e., in the Articles and Formularies] is agreeable to the Word of God." It is now ten years and upwards since this matter of clerical subscription was settled in the Clerical Subscrip- tion Commission. The Lord Primate, the Archbishop of Dublin, and I served on that. The present Bishop of Chester (Jacobson), then Regius Professor of Divinity at Oxford, was also on that Commission. We were espe- cially careful not to interfere with (so as in any wise to diminish the effect of) subscription to the Articles ; but we were most anxious to relieve the oppressive rigidity of the subscription required under the Uniformity Act, the pres- sure of which had been met by a loose and untenable laxity of interpretation — a recoil from the oppressive rigidity of the form enacted. The grievance had con- tinued for upwards of 200 years ; a persevering effort was made to have the formula remodelled and adapted to what the truth and justice of the case required, and at last these arguments prevailed. The Commissioners could not agree upon a statement of their reasons ; but we were unanimous in the result, and the Report was signed by every one of THE ATHANASIAN CREED. 459 the Commissioners, Clerical and Lay One object we had was to make the assent to Articles and Formularies general and comprehensive ; to omit the rigid assent and consent to " every part thereof," but to include the whole of the doctrine that was set forth tkerem ~tha.t is to say, the doctrine of the Church dogmatically declared, whether in Articles, Rubrics, or Prayer Book, and what Was found in any part of these was to be treated as belonging to a con- sistent whole. The collateral and subsidiary clauses of the Athanasian Creed were not taken to be a dogmatic statement of the Church's doctrine, and were not held to be set forth in the formula, as a part of the Church's doctrine ; they were dicta introduced diverso intuitu — in terrorem, to constrain assent to the doctrines that were distinctly and dogmaticallj' stated. Indeed, I may observe that in the Convocation of Canterbury and of York, it was never suggested that the admonitory clauses were included as articles of faith, or as part of the Church's doctrine set forth in the Creed. I cannot therefore agree that there is any of our clergy to whom the reference of the Bishop of Derry is applicable ; they are at least as free as Baxter was, and as Arnold, Barrow, and others have been with reference to the Eighth Article, and for the same reason, i.e., that the damnatory clauses were not taken to be part of the Creed of St. Athanasius, either expressly or constructively referred to in the Eighth Article as belonging to the doctrine of the Church. I have already drawn attention to what appears in Waterland, as to the title of Psalmus, Hymnus, Sermo, &c., being used to distinguish the "Athan- asian Formula" from the two Creeds proper which were Creeds in the strict ecclesiastical sense. But this was composed not as a Creed proper, non per modum symboli, ut ex ipso modo loquendi apparet, sed magis per modum cujusdam doctrine; sed quia integram Fidei veritatera ejus doctrina breviter continebat, auctoritate summi Ponti- ficis est recepta, ut quasi regula Fidei habeatur. Thus then, when kept distinct from the two Creeds proper, it was 46o LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. called a Psalm, Hymn, Sermon, &c., of which titles Water- land gives numerous instances, before the Reformation ; but as containing (in the judgment of the Roman See) a complete system of the Christian Faith, it was received by Papal authority. The three Creeds were then considered as a complete collective embodiment — " the tria compendia" of the Christian Faith. The Fides Apostolica for simple instruction ; the Nicene for definitive explanation ; the Athanasian for defensive completion. See Ref LL. c. 5. The two first finally contained only statements of the fundamental articles, which were accepted in the Church from the beginning, and afterwards were embodied in Creeds; the third had (in addition) statements in terrorem, to constrain assent to the doctrinal credenda — the Catho- lica Fides. The second had had anathemas, like in cha- racter to the in terrorem statements in the third, but they had been dropped with the sanction of General Councils, thus signifying the prevailing opinion of the primitive Church against the method of commending God's truth by human threatenings ; and the third had never been submitted to any General Council. In their plain and ordinary sense these minatory clauses convey that the Catholic Faith is what is set forth definitely in the Qui- cunque Vult, and that whosoever shall not have believed and kept whole and undefiled this definite Faith, without doubt he shall perish everlastingly. We have not any reliable account of the historical occasion on which this document was completed in its pre- sent form, and we cannot therefore qualify the sense of its words ; and in any event we must always bear in mind, that where the people assemble for common prayer in an ordinary congregation, they will naturally understand the words of these clauses as they find them in the authorized Prayer Book, in their natural and ordinary sense, without gloss or annotation, or any qualification plainly and dis- tinctly expressed in the same authorized service, as part of it. There is no ground for saying that the words used in THE ATIIAN ASIAN CREED. 46 1 the damnatory clauses are not plain and unambiguous; and in the absence of any express qualification, or of any surrounding or historical circumstances from which a qualification could fairly be implied, the popular meaning is not only natural but (I may say) inevitable. I cannot think, therefore, that the Bishop of Derry has supplied any argument or authority to lead us to suppose that we have not been soundly and correctly advised by the majority of our learned and respected Prelates ; but on the contrary, the Charge under consideration confirms in a satisfactory manner not only the correctness but the mode- ration of the course that has been taken by the Synod. Having gone through this elaborate answer and expo- sition of the Bishop of Derry, I proceed to the Charge of the Lord Primate, of which I am compelled in conscience to say that I read it with regret and surprise. The injustice and wrong that I feel has been done to the Synod and the Church of Ireland, by the manner in which their proceedings have been described and dispar^ aged, may in some degree perhaps be repaired by following the precedent that we have in the case of the Ritual Com- missioners, after His Grace, in a Charge of a former year, called forth a vindication that was put forward in the spirit of meekness by the late Rev. H. Venn (one of his col- leagues), who simply set forth and explained the several proceedings of the Commissioners, so as to enable the pubHc to judge not only of their diligence and moderation, but also of the good that was accomplished for the National Church, by this seasonable and laborious effort to make the Prayer Book more expansive in its use, more free to be profitably used for public worship by the people. The Report of this Commission was published after the Church of Ireland had been disestablished and dis- endowed. We had been left to shift for ourselves as best we could after spoliation ; but we were enabled, by a Con- vention held under an Imperial statute, to constitute our General Synod as the supreme Legislative Body of our 462 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Church ; and with His Grace as our president, we in- augurated in solemn form our new ecclesiastical consti- tution. We solemnly declared our purpose of maintaining the Articles of Religion, and the Formularies that we had in use when we were part of the United Church of England and Ireland, and we pledged ourselves to continue to use the same, subject to such alterations only as should be made therein from time to time by the lawful authority of the Church of Ireland. ■ Articles of Declaration were then solemnly made in the name of the Blessed Trinity, and inaugurated by solemn Declaration of Agreement on the part of the Archbishops and Bishops of the Ancient Catho- lic and Apostolic Church of Ireland, together with the Representatives of the Clergy and Laity of the same — all were bound. After pledging our adherence to the faith of Christ as professed by the Primitive Church ; the mainten- ance of the three orders of the Christian Ministry, Bishops, Priests, or Presbyters, and Deacons ; the receiving and approving of the Thirty-nine Articles, and the use of the Prayer Book and Ordinal of 1662, subject to alterations made by legislative authority; the maintenance of com- munion with the SISTER Church of England and with all other Christian Churches agreeing in the principles of this Declaration, and that we would set forward, so far as in us lieth, quietness, peace, and love among all Christian people ; the Declaration concludes : — " The Church of Ireland, deriving its authority from Christ, who is the Head over all things to the Church of Ireland, consisting of the Archbishops and Bishops, and of Representatives of the Clergy and Laity, shall have chief legislative power therein, and such administrative power as may be neces- sary for the Church, and consistent with its Episcopal constitution." If the members of the Synod have bond fide conformed to the Constitution that we thus settled for our own government, they cannot be arraigned for the lawful exercise of their lawful liberty ; the authority of the Synod THE ATHANASIAN CREED. 463 ought not to be treated with contempt and set at defiance, and our Church threatened with schism, and the secession of some who are to follow " a mother Church of England " unknown to us here. We know of no other there than our sister Church of England, with which we are, and desire to remain, pledged in faithful communion. But at present I am chiefly concerned with the grave question properly brought under consideration, to which the Bishop of Derry (as was his right) confined his attention in his Charge, and endeavoured to show that his view of the issue before us was better sustained in argument than that adopted on the side of the Synod. But what positions has the Primate now propounded that are relevant, or sustained by authority to which the Synod ought to defer, rather than to the reasons which the great majority of our Bishops, with the much-respected Provost of Trinity Col- lege, and the Regius Professor of Divinity, have furnished for our guidance ? I have gone carefully over this con- demnatory and minatory document, in which I looked for a learned and exhaustive statement of the case of the episcopal minority. I fully knew that whatever was avail- able was at His Grace's command. I was struck by the significant omission of all reference to the patient, un- fettered, and deliberate conferences that we had in the Revision Committee, beginning in 1871; I cannot, more- over, forget the help we had from the discussions in the two Convocations of England, in 1872 and 1873 especially, fully reported at the time in the Guardian ; the discussions in our own Synod after the resolutions were reported, sifted, and revised there in 1872, 1873, 1874, 1875, very different indeed from a synodical debate under a limitation of ten minutes' speeches. No notice has been taken by His Grace of the labours of the Ritual Commission, the Report of which had been published in 1870, and on which His Grace was a Commissioner, and a subsequent com- mentator, and had exact knowledge of what had really taken place— that there had been on six several occasions 464 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. a very searching discussion of the question of the compul- sory use of the Psalm Quicunque Vult, commonly called the Creed of St. Athanasius ; and that upwards of two- thirds of the Commissioners (with the Archbishop of Canterbury at their head) had signified opinions to the effect that the compulsory recitation of this document, as it stands in the Book of Common Prayer, should be alto- gether withdrawn from public worship. I saw that further explanation was necessary, and I think it ought to be put forward with authority by the Synod. The full explanation and account of the Ritual Com- mission as to this is in pp. 8, 9, and 34 of Mr. Venn's pamphlet, and in p. yt, et seq. of the publication of the Dean of Westminster. Both of these were members of that Commission. The question that we had to deal with came to be disposed of by our Synod in 1875 ; it had been under intermittent discussion since October, 1871. I can bear witness that there was the opportunity for a most exhaustive discussion before the decision took place in 1875 ; and I do not believe that a more searching and able discussion (having regard to the relevant and material points) could have been reasonably secured. It is so far satisfactory to find that His Grace admits that "the time that has elapsed since the close of the Synod has afforded ample opportunity for a calm and considerate review of the questions that were there de- cided, and their probable effect on the future of our Church." Now I am not going to be diverted from the grave question that is properly brought under our con- sideration, by stepping aside into a discussion of the general question of Revision, or the merits of the " great men of the Reformation." I know not which set of men are referred to, or which was the Primate's " Covenant of Peace." Was it made in 1549, 1552, 1559, 1603, or 1662 ? Having carefully considered the Episcopal and other expositions bearing on this grave and important subject, and not forgetful of the information that I acquired when THE ATHANASIAN CREED. 465 actively engaged more than ten years ago, on an occasion when a very important branch of this question was inci- dentally dealt with by the able and learned men on the Clerical Subscription Commission ; and having had re- cently to deal directly with it when, in another form, it was before the Ritual Commission, I have felt it to be my duty to keep clear of what appears to me in the main to be irrelevant and confusing. My duty in now reconsidering the whole case, is to regard it on its material issue, to ' weigh and estimate the comparative value of the rele- vant authorities and arguments on both sides — in effect, whether the admonitory clauses of the Psalm Quicunque Vult ought to be continued to be the subject of compul- sory and open use by the people, assembled for public worship with the minister on the appointed occasions in our churches in Ireland. I hold that this ought not to be continued — because first, I think that they are not dis- tinctly declared to be part of the Articles, or any part of the Formularies that dogmatically declares her doctrine. I do not believe these collateral clauses to be articles of faith. I believe the compulsory public recitation of them as part of a public confession of their Christian faith, by the people who join in public worship, to be not only not edifying, but an offence and occasion of stumbling to many of them, and I repudiate the charge of mutilating any Creed of the Church. I am fully prepared to go with the Primate whenever he can set before me sound argument, or refer to competent authority, to sustain the contrary of the position to which I have referred, which compels me in reason and conscience to agree with the view of the General Synod, guided by the authority of the majority of our Bishops. I have gone over with the greatest care and diligence every speech that was made on the subject in the English Convocations ; I have considered them as dehberately as I could : but as at present advised, I am J not able to come to any other conclusion than what the' Synod has adopted. H H 466 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. We must bear in mind that before we took any step in our Revision Committee on the subject of the Athanasian Creed, it had been brought by the Bishop of Gloucester before the Upper House of the Convocation of Canterbury on the 14th June, 1871. His Lordship moved for "the appointment of a joint Committee to consider and report upon the desirableness of revising the existing translation of the Athanasian Creed, and of introducing any changes in or additions to the Rubric prefixed to the Creed in the Book of Common Prayer, provided that they be only such changes or additions as shall not in any way affect the authority of the Creed, as a standard of doctrine in the Church of England." After referring to the unsatisfactory state in which the question had been left by the Ritual Commissioners, and to the urgency for the Bishops of England coming to some distinct conclusion on the subject, and having also referred to the defects of the existing translation that had been adverted to " by one whom all here present will respect, both for his learning and for his known moderation (the Bishop of Chester), who made such comments on the defects of the existing translation, as led many of the members to regret that their powers did not enable them to deal with this view, he suggested that a great deal would be done by this act of duty on the part of the Convocations, by helping to provide that no words should find a place in the English version which are more stern than those in the original." " We are now" (said his Lordship) "by the providence of God in days when good men weigh earnestly the weight of words that they repeat solemnly ; and it is well for us to remember that although the faults of our age are many, there is a deeper love of reality in us all, and that the words that might have been used forty or fifty years ago with a sort of conventional ease are now very often thoughtfully weighed before they are solemnly uttered in the form of a public confession of faith. Therefore if by THE ATHANASIAN CREED. 467 retranslations we can in any degree moderate or remove these difficulties, I venture humbly to say that it is our duty, in the name of the Triune God whom the Creed brings before us, to put our hands at once to this easy and necessary work." The then Bishop of Winchester (Wilberforce) agreed that the Bishop of Chester was for many reasons well able to give one of the best opinions upon the question — and' he would be excluded, if the consideration of the question should be confined to the Province of Canterbury. It was then arranged that the question should be considered by both Archbishops and the Bishops of both Provinces. Accordingly a meeting of the United Episcopate was con- voked at Lambeth at the beginning of July, attended by the two Archbishops and by nearly every Bishop of both Provinces. The following was unanimously carried : — " That the undernamed Bishops be requested by this Meeting to undertake a revision of the text and a re- translation of the Quicunque Vult; and that the Professors of Divinity in the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge be requested to act with them in the work. The Bishops named were London, Winchester, Gloucester and Bristol, Ely, Chester, and Salisbury. We have the Report that was drawn up by the Bishop of Gloucester, and, by the desire of the Archbishops and Bishops present, was pub- lished and presented to the clergy and laity of the English Church." But there it has been left. No relief has followed. The laity are better assured of the wrong imposed on them. We cannot fail to observe how a slip-shod laxity, which is very common, was corrected in this instance by the Episcopate assembled at Lambeth ; i.e., the slip-shod habit of using " the Athanasian Creed " instead of " the Quicunque Vult," i.e., the Psalm in which the so-called Creed of Athanasius is contained (as was carefully noted by the Bishop of Meath in our Revision Committee and Synod). It is specified in the Articles of 1536, in which it . 4.68 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. is declared as to this Creed, then supposed to be the Creed of St. Athanasius, that it is " comprehended in the Psalm Quicunque Vult." In fact, the Psalm had got the name of a Creed in a secondary and improper sense, because it con- tained what constituted the subject-matter of a Creed, in a proper sense. The Psalm comprehended a Creed, and more than a Creed ; but this did not alter or extend its " Credenda," or in any wise augment the " Catholica fides," the authorized credenda of which constituted the Creed proper. It would not have been open to interfere with this doctrinal Creed {i.e., the Creed proper), for this had been put under the protection of the Eighth Article, which had guaranteed the three Creeds as the embodiment and ex- pression of the fundamental doctrine of the Church ; but as, under the Sixth Article, whatever is not read in the Canonical Scriptures, nor may be proved thereby, is not to be required of any man, that it should be believed as an article of t lie faith, or be thought requisite or necessary to salvation, it was necessary to have the doctrine of the Creeds confirmed by the Eighth Article as part of the Church's doctrine. Accordingly the Eighth Article con- firmed the doctrine of the three Creeds in their cognate sense and collective import, forming together a triple com- bination and embodiment of doctrine. Waterland there- fore says in relation to this Athanasian formula, that " our Church receives it because the truth of the doctrines con- tained in it may be proved by most certain warrants of Holy Scripture, as is expressly said in our Eighth Article." The doctrines fundamental that had been preserved and perpetuated under the three Creeds were tested by the Canonical Scriptures, and by them only ; but this did not extend to any part of the Athanasian document beyond that in which the doctrines of the Creed proper were com- prehended ; any other part, however appropriate to it as a Psalm or Sermon, or Exposition, &c., was not an integral or essential Article of the Catholica Fides. Indeed, it is manifest that the Commissioners of 1689 attended to this THE ATHANASIAN CREED. 469 distinction, for otherwise the difference of their treatment of " the Articles " and the " Condemning Clauses " could not have been either requisite or admissible. And all who have since acted on this distinction, and have founded upon it a different treatment of the two classes of clauses, are precluded from ignoring this distinction and difference at their will and pleasure, and also from confounding the import of the proper with that of the improper designation ; the general secondary designation and the limited and primary title of the Creed proper. Deviations from strict accuracy may often be of little or no practical importance ; but without such accuracy it is plain that the closest reasoning may sometimes be involved in perplexity. Had the exact distinction between the proper Creed of the doctrine and the nominal Creed of the document been attended to, the fallacy so often misused as to the Eighth Article could not have been made current. The Bishop of Chester, in his speech at York, Feb. 21, 1872, has fully appreciated the distinction. He refers to the language of Bishop Jewel in speaking of the Creed con- tained in the Hymn Te Deum, to show that the word has " a large secondary sense." Afterwards he says : " I am not unwilling to part with what are called the admonitory, the cautionary, or, less correctly, the damnatory clauses. It has been said by several authorities (by Waterland himself among them*) that these are not essential portions of the Creed. I am ready to part with two verses of the Formu- lary, the second and the forty-second, if it is found im- possible (as I fear it will be) to provide by an amendment of the translation a remedy for the feeling (a morbid feeling it may be) with which many regard them." Notwith- standing, he opposed the motion for discontinuing the usual recitation of the Formula as it exists. But if they are not essential portions, why should the use of them be compulsory on the laity, whom they offend ? That they * He also quoted passages to the same effect from Dr. Arnold. 470 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. are not Credenda is forcibly put forward by the Bishop of London, in the Upper House of Convocation of Canterbury, on May 3rd, debate in 1873. "We do not beHeve" (he says) " in a monition or a condemnation, but in a doctrine ; and it is not one of the doctrines that the Church requires us to beHeve, that everyone who does not beheve every statement in a Creed, without doubt shall, perish ever- lastingly. There is a manifest distinction between the solemn admonitions appended to the Creed, warning against unbelief, and the doctrines themselves contained in the Creed, and of which it requires us to express our belief .... I am not objecting to a solemn warning against unbelief, but I am endeavouring to argue that these clauses are not part of the Credenda which the Church proposes for our belief I believe that every proposition of the Creed may be proved by Holy Scripture, while the damnatory clauses cannot, unless modified by explanations and restrictions, and I cannot then consider them part of the Creed. Therefore it appears to me that those clauses, like the anathemas of the Nicene and Constantinopolitan Creeds, may be removed without touching — I will not say in any vital part, but in any part at all — the great funda- mental doctrines of the faith." He also was opposed to change at present in the use. Although it may have been considered perilous to go forward, and with consistent courage to act upon what can- not be (or at least has not been) displaced or denied, it reduces the practical question to one of the highest discre- tion — whether the occasion has arrived at which we ought to incur the risk of discontinuing the compulsory use of these clauses. I would prefer avoiding compulsion on either side, and rather encourage and seek for (if it may be had) a voluntary and amicable adjustment. Where reli- gious feeling is high and earnest, it may be raised to a white heat by overbearing opposition or imposition. I see no insuperable difficulty in arranging terms and conditions by which we shall have a settling season and cooling timej THE ATHAN ASIAN CREED. 47 1 the strong learning charitably to bear the infirmities of the weak, and, like our blessed Master, not pleasing ourselves, but each seeking to please his neighbour for his good to edification — for even Christ pleased not Himself More especially, let us pray for the good estate of the Catholic Church, that it may be so guided and governed by God's good Spirit, that all who profess and call them- selves Christians may be led into the way of truth, and hold the faith in unity of spirit, in the bond of peace, and in righteousness of life. CLERICAL SUBSCRIPTION COMMISSION. IN Eraser's Magazine for the present month (March) the first article purports to be " The Speech of the Dean of St. Paul's, Friday, April 22nd, 1864," at the Clerical Subscription Commission. At the close it is stated in italics : — " Much doubt was entertained whether this motion came within the terms of the Commission ; it was not pressed by the Dean." The speech was read by the Dean to his colleagues, from a manuscript, which he afterwards handed in, at their request, in order that it might be printed as a confidential document, for their mature consideration. As a member of the Commission I was furnished with two copies, and, after much deliberation, I prepared and sent in the answer which is published in the following pages. It was printed (as the Dean's paper had been) as a confidential document, and copies were supplied to each of the Commissioners. After an anxious and exhaustive consideration of the whole subject of Subscription, the Commissioners unanimously agreed upon the Form that is given in the Report which they recently made to Her Majesty the Queen. To that Report the Dean is a party ; and no other member of the Commission is more ex- pressly pledged than the Dean is, to an unqualified CLERICAL SUBSCRIPTION COMMISSION. 473 approval of that Form, in the foreground of which stands prominent — Subscription to the Articles of Religion.* The publication in Fraser seems to suggest that the proposal of the Dean for confining subscription to the Book of Common Prayer had been met by a prehminary objection of form, and that afterwards it had not been considered on its merits by the Commissioners. Such an inference would be unfair to me as the author of a delibe- rate answer to the Dean's paper ; and it would be unjust to my colleagues, who had both papers printed for the use of the Commissioners, and who gave to the subject of Subscription, in all its bearings, a searching and candid consideration. Having offered to the editor of Fraser the option of publishing the answer, which he has declined, I submitted the whole matter to the Archbishop of Canterbury, as the Chairman and head of the Commission. I have the sanction of His Grace for the present publication, which has been made necessary by the publication in Fraser. Merrion Square, Dublin, March, 1865. * Keble's Hooker, Vol. II., p. 525 ; III., p. 401. MR. NAPIER'S ANSWER TO THE DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S. The Dean of St. Paul's has communicated to us a Paper elaborately and elegantly composed. I have felt it to be a duty to consider it with care and deliberation. He con- tends " that confornlity to the Liturgy is the best and surest attainable security for the declared agreement of the clergy with thfe doctrines of the Church," and that subscription to the Thirty-nine Articles is not only unne- cessary, but in a high degree objectionable. This he would abolish, retaining the subscription to the Book of Common Prayer. On the other hand, the Dean of West- minster, at the close of " the concluding note " appended to his well-known letter to the Bishop of London, affirms that " there would be a manifest unfairness to one or other of the two great sections of the Church of England, if, on the one hand, subscription to the Book of Common Prayer were abolished, retaining the subscription to the Articles, or if, on the other hand, the subscription to the Articles were abolished, retaining the subscription to the Prayer Book." In this " concluding note " he proceeds to lay down what seems the legitimate result of the foregoing argument, i.e., the argument in his letter. Thus we have his own summary, in which he proposes to retain " the declaration of conformity to the Liturgy established by law," and to superadd a form of approval or submission to " the ANSWER TO DEAN MILMAN. 475 doctrine of the Church estabhshed by law." But what is "the Liturgy established by law" ? It is the doctrine de- clared in the Articles and in the dogmatical parts of the Book of Common Prayer. Happily, therefore, the Dean of Westminster has set aside the logical, in favour of what he designates " the legitimate result," in which the principle of subscription is conceded, and the substance of it secured. Looking at the question as one of principle, it is scarcely open to contend that the Church ought not to require of those who are to ' be her commissioned ministers, that they should in some form sufficiently- express their assent to the doctrine which they are to teach and preach. This must of necessity involve a refer- ence to the documents in which this doctrine is declared. These are the Articles and the Formularies drawn up by the Church, adopted by the Legislature, and established by the law of Church and State. The Articles were framed by the Church avowedly "for the avoiding of diversities of opinion, and for the establishing of consent touching true religion." Accor- ding to the royal declaration prefixed, they " contain the true doctrine of the Church of England agreeable to God's Word." They do not profess to furnish a Complete body of dogmatic theology ; but they define what was received, they clear what was obscured, and they condemn what is repugnant to the Holy Scriptures. They embody and express the Church's authoritative decisions on the matters therein determined, and, in a peculiar though not exclusive sense, they constitute the Church's code of doctrine. " They were framed " (says Lord Stowell) " by the chief luminaries of the Reformed Church with great care in Convocation, as containing ' fundamental truths deducible in their judgment from Scripture,' and the Legislature has adopted and established them as the doctrines of our Church down to the present time." " But," says the Dean of St. Paul's, " the doctrines of the English Church are not only more simply but more fully, assuredly more 476 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. winningly, taught in our Liturgy than in our Articles." Now, although the Dean has insisted on the great import- ance of " the utmost nicety and precision of language " in the discussion of this (as he calls it) " momentous question," I cannot suppose that he meant to convey by what he has here said, that all the doctrines declared by the Church are to be found in the Liturgy. That there are declarations of doctrine therein is true, but to a limited extent. The Book of Common Prayer was compiled, not for the determining of controversies of faith, but for the establishing a uniform order of Common Prayer and the administration of the Sacraments. The Preface thereto speaks of "particular forms of Divine worship, and the rites and ceremonies appointed to be used therein, being things in their own nature indifferent and alterable, and so acknowledged." These (it, is observed) "upon just cause may be altered and changed, and therefore are not to be esteemed equal to God's law." It is also stated that " for the resolution of all doubts concerning the manner how to understand, do, and execute the things contained in this Book," recourse is to be had to the Bishop of the Diocese, and if he be in doubt, he may send to the Archbishop. All this shows the char- acter and purpose of the Book. The Articles were drawn up in pursuance of the authority of the Church to deter- mine controversies of faith in accordance with Scripture; the Prayer Book was compiled in execution of the power of the Church, so far limited that nothing should be or- dained that is repugnant to Scripture (Twentieth and Thirty-fourth Articles). The provisional element in the Prayer Book is as distinctive as the permanent element in the Articles. It was a provident arrangement to have a code of doctrines by which controversies then intended to be closed might thereafter be decided according to the plain meaning and the natural construction of the Church's ANSWER TO DEAN MILMAN. 477 authoritative determinations. Great might be the per- plexity if such inquiries should be transferred from direct and express declarations of the Church, to deductions and inferences (not made by the Church) from words in which doctrine is blended with devotional feeling. It is a prin- ciple of our law that no man should be reasoned into a penalty. The parts of the Prayer Book which are in their nature dogmatical are declaratory of doctrine ; but the devotional services have been adjudged not to be evidence of doctrine without reference to distinct declarations thereof in the Articles, as well as to the faith, hope, and charity by which the Formularies profess to be inspired or accompanied.* Devotional expressions intended for the use of all members of our Church must, from their very nature, be understood, not in an absolute or unconditional, but in a qualified or charitable sense, and therefore are not declaratory of doctrine. The very excellence of the Liturgy as a code of devotion renders it unfit to be the peculiar test of doctrine. It tends to profane devotional feeling, if we associate the harmony of prayer and praise the incense and homage of the heart, with doubtful dispu- tations. Although a deficiency in the Articles may be supplied, or a doubt may be removed by a distinct declar- ation of doctrine in the Prayer Book, yet the occasion for this is found to be exceptional. The fact of the Creeds having been incorporated into the Articles shows the anxiety of the Church to have a distinct code of doctrine, and to keep the Book of Common Prayer for the pure and peaceful purpose of undisturbed devotion. The Dean of St. Paul's is disposed to look upon the Articles as somewhat obsolete, referable to what he calls "controversies of the day." All the Articles, with the exception of the Twenty-second, were subsequent to the doctrines enacted in the decrees of Trent. These, at least^ are not obsolete. It had become necessary for the Church, as a witness for revealed truth, to restate explicitly such of * Moore's Report of the Gorham Cnse, p. 467. 478 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. the positive doctrines as had been corrupted or obscured, and to renounce and condemn errors which are repugnant to the Holy Scriptures. This was the real work of the Reformation. Its noblest vindication is to be found in the Articles of Religion. " They are negative," says the Dean of St. Paul's. The Law given from Sinai is negative. " They are controversial," he adds.' So are some of the Catholic Epistles, and two at least of the Creeds contained in the Book of Common Prayer, to which the Dean would retain subscription. " They contain things hard to be understood." So do all the Epistles of St. Paul. The errors and excesses against which the Articles were directed are as lasting as the fanaticism, the ignorance, and the folly of man. It is not the barren study of obso- lete controversy that is imposed on the theological student by requiring an intelligent subscription to these Articles of Religion on taking Holy Orders. He is reasonably expected to have studied the great movement of the Reformation ; for surely it is fit and proper that he who is to minister the doctrine of the Reformed Church should not only be acquainted with primitive truth, but with the principal heresies by which that truth has been and may be again assailed. He may thus be enabled to detect subtle forms of unbelief, and furnished with the means of exposing and refuting them. Who can say truly of any controversy that has been, that it may not be, at any tims, revived, or that the authoritative condemnation of any error may be safely cast aside ? The recent example of the Forty-second Article of 1552 is instructive. Had it not been withdrawn afterwards, on the assumption that the error to which it referred was exploded and obsolete, the Church would not now be subjected to the misrepre- sentation of having impliedly sanctioned what she had expressly condemned. What amount of knowledge is sufficient to qualify a philosophic historian of the Church, or to secure an ex- haustive exposition of the Articles, I need not stop to ANSWER TO DEAN MILMAN. 479 discuss. It is enough to say, that he who seeks to obtain the Church's commission, should be prepared to attest by- subscription, as an unequivocal act, his agreement with the doctrine that he is to be appointed to teach. But let me ask the venerable Dean, whether the Book of Common Prayer can be thoroughly understood and fully appre- ciated without references to controversies which have been encountered by the Church ? What has he to say as to the Nicene and Athanasian Creeds? Every sentence, almost every word, in the former is associated with con- troversial conflict. It is an ancient banner, emblazoned with the record of victories achieved over the impugners of the Catholic Faith. The latter tries to express in terms of the pure intellect the sublime mystery of the Godhead. What part of the great charter of the Church demands from the theological student a higher exercise of faith and reason, a more exact acquaintance with the history of heresy in its subtle and shifting forms ? But " the Articles are fenced about with inhibitions," says the Dean. From their very nature, they must be in a great degree negative and restrictive in fencing truth against the encroachments of error. It might as well be objected to a chart that it laid down for the mariner the shoals, the quicksands, and the sunken rocks, and recorded the soundings. These are its " inhibitions." The course of the voyage, the coast and harbour scenery, might perhaps be exhibited or described " more winningly" in a way not only suitable but quite sufficient for popular use. With this the pas- senger might be satisfied ; but for the master of the ship, however agreeable or useful as a supplement, this would be obviously unsafe as a substitute. To him the authentic chart, with its cautionary and instructive inhibitions, is indispensable. Whether, therefore, the doctrines of the Church (so far as they are to be found in the Prayer Book) are there set forth " more winningly " than in the Articles, I need not now dispute ; but that the doctrinal teaching of the Prayer 480 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. Book is as full or as complete as that of the Articles, I emphatically deny. Where in the Prayer Book are Pela- gian perversions met as in the Ninth Article, and where is the great doctrine of justification stated as in the Eleventh? Where is the Scriptural position of works in the Christian scheme declared, as in the Eleventh, Twelfth, and Thirteenth Articles ? Where is the sinlessness of Christ, and of Him alone, so explicitly declared as in the Fifteenth, a special bulwark against heresies, not only not obsolete, but rife in our own times ? One of the most dangerous doctrines of modern rationalists is denounced with Apostolical severity in the Eighteenth Article.* Where have we in the Prayer Book an equivalent for the great foundation Article (the Sixth)? I might easily extend the contrast. It is not necessary for me to do more than to establish that the Prayer Book is not of itself sufficient for the acknowledged purpose of subscription. It is consistent and concurrent, but it is not co-extensive, with the Articles. It is satisfactory to find the Dean of St. Paul's explicitly avowing that he has never found any difficulty in recon- ciling with his own conscience his subscription to the Articles. Such a testimony from one so learned, so liberal, so exact, and so accomplished, ought of itself to silence cavil. He commends " the wonderful wisdom," " the signal moderation," and " the comprehensive spirit in which the Articles have been framed." The Dean of Westminster, in a like strain, says that " they may be taken as an excellent framework of theological instruction ;" that there is " a balance of statement which renders them singularly well adapted for the purpose of a national con- fession." It is not unworthy of notice that where one Dean would seem to waver between general praise and particular objection, the other is distinct in his special approval. This is exemplified in their comments on the Seventeenth Article, and the Article on the Sacraments. * As to the "virtuous heathen," see Butlers Analogy, 203 d., 220 (Oxfor n edition). ) ANSWER TO DEAN MILMAN. 48 1 When the accuser becomes the apologist, his eulogy should be accepted with caution. In this very matter of the Articles, I cannot forget the elaborate admissions of Mr. Newman, in his celebrated letter to Dr. Jelf, when he was anxious to cover his retreat in a damaged cause. I do not, however, mean to suggest that the praise bestowed on the Articles by either Dean is not as genuine as it is deserved, and I claim the right to retain it altogether on the credit side. There is not one of the special objections of the Dean of Westminster which has been adopted by the Dean of St. Paul's. They are generally inapplicable to the authentic and established code of the Thirty-nine Articles, authoritatively construed. It is said by the Dean of St. Paul's that the Articles are not a sufficient safeguard against new assaults, and that there is in theology a pro- gressive as well as a permanent element. The latter he would confine to what is elementary. But who is to decide what is elementary? and is there to be no stability in what has been established b)'- the Church in accordance with the standard of the Holy Scriptures ? In this — in- deed, throughout his entire argument — the Dean has for- gotten that he was bound to show that the Prayer Book, taken by itself, was not open to a like objection of insuffi- ciency. The Articles, like the successive Creeds, had to meet specific heresies, and to guard against the continu- ance or revival of these heresies in the Church. The objection to them as incomplete would affect every safe- guard which the Church has from time to time provided in her dogmatic defences. It is not reason (I must say) to maintain that a test is worthless and should be abandoned, if it is not absolutely perfect for every occasion. A chemical test is not abandoned if it does not detect every species oi poison ; it may, notwithstanding, be of great practical utility in detecting the most common. New assaults may be multiplied, but " the foundation of God .=*-andeth sure." Should further protection against fresh assaults be needed, this does not prove that the. old established defences should be altogether abandoned. I I 482 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. The Dean has conveniently divided the Articles into distinct groups. The first set, which are conversant with what he calls " primary and fundamental truths," he describes as " exquisitely subtle," and adds, that " as far as such subjects may be made intelligible, nothing can be more clear and distinct than their definitions." If it is proper for the purpose of subscription that the doctrine should be definite, we have it in this group suitably defined in the most exact and intelligible form. Now, whether the subscription is to be regarded as a personal test or a moral security, or both, it is reasonable, if not self-evident, that the doctrine to be professed by the sub- scriber should have been explicitly declared by the Church. If the Church should not have so declared what she requires to be professed by her commissioned minister, it would open a door to the inconvenience and injustice which may arise out of " inferential interpretation." In this event, some tribunal would have to disentangle the doctrine. If, indeed, the Dean could show that this could be done with a greater reverence for truth, or a greater respect and security for Christian liberty, than has been exhibited by the framers of the Articles, his argument would have force ; but I cannot understand how the very excellence of this group of Articles, as part of a code of doctrine, can be urged as a reason for superseding the group altogether. Whatever may be the legitimate influence of the Liturgy, from the Scriptural spirit which it breathes, in its solemn melody, its holy fervour, its spiritual suggestions, and all its tender associations, I would leave in full and undisturbed operation. I would, therefore, retain the dogmatic declarations of doctrine, as such, in the code of Articles — clear, definite, intelligible (so far as may be), and, above all, " agreeable to God's Word." Heresies have been suffered in the Church, that they which are approved might be made manifest ; and in the providence of God they have called for dogmatic determinations, which can only ANSWER TO DEAN MILMAN. 483 stand if made in accordance with the sure warrant of Holy Scripture. Can it be reasonably contended that if the established doctrine is to be honestly professed, it should not be thus explicitly declared ? Does any part of it re- quire to be so wrapped up for the purpose of subscription as to conceal its Scriptural exactness ? The second group to which the Dean refers relates to the Holy Scriptures ; these he reserves for a separate and subsequent consideration, and I will follow the order of his argument. On the third I need not dwell further than to say that the Dean of Westminster has supplied whatever may be needed to complete and correct the com- ment of the Dean of St. Paul's, who closes his criticism on this group by a " testimony of profound respect for the quiet caution with which the framers' of our Articles laboured to give a practical turn to these inevitable ques- tions, to guard against perilous abuses, rather than insist on precise definitions." This is not faint praise. The next group relates to the sacraments. As to these he contends that the Sacramental Offices in the Prayer Book are more instructive than the Articles. I do not purpose to weigh or measure their respective contributions to a right apprehension of this important subject. Juncta juvant. The Offices may supplement, though they do not supersede, the teaching of the Articles. The Dean of St. Paul's objects that these Articles are directed especially against Romanist errors ; but the Dean of Westminster, more in accordance with the spirit of the Reformation, fastens upon this as an especial mark of their excellence. Idolatry of the symbol is a formidable error, and required a special safeguard against it. I have already observed that the Dean of St. Paul's has overlooked that his argument fails unless he proves that the Prayer Book of itself suffices where the Articles are insufficient. In no part of his argument is this over- sight more palpable than where he attempts to show that the Articles have not been found adequate to protect the 484 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTER-S. Church in the three instances to which he successively refers. How strange that he should forget that in each instance the Church had the double protection of the Articles and the Prayer Book ; and if both have failed, how could the Prayer Book be of itself sufficient ? His sword is two-edged, and cuts away his own proposal as to the Prayer Book, when it cuts at all. He first alludes to what I may call a prefatory case — the case of Archdeacon Denison — which, he says, went off on a technical informality. But before the final result, the Archdeacon mainly relied on a well-known objection to the authenticity of the Twenty-ninth Article ; and the Archbishop of Canterbury and Bishop Carr, with Dr. Lushington as their assessor, decided that the Twenty- ninth Article was authentic, and that the sacramental doctrine propounded by the venerable Archdeacon was repugnant to this Article. The propriety of this decision on the merits has not (I believe) been impugned by authority.- The very fact that in the first instance it was attempted to impeach the authenticity of the Twenty-ninth Article, and at the last to fall back on a technicality un- connected with the question of doctrine, shows that, in the opinion of those who advocated the cause of the Arch- deacon, there was not a well-founded hope of escaping on the merits from the grasp of the Article. So far, therefore, the Articles were protective ; it was never suggested at any stage of the argument that the Prayer Book could of itself have met this case. But he comes next to the instance of the great Tractarian movement of " so-called Romanisers." And here the argument of the Dean is sui generis. Is it that the Articles had failed to protect the Church against the apostacy of men who sought to enjoy her endowments and hold the doctrines of Rome, which our Church had renounced and condemned ? Or that she was, or could have been, sufficiently protected by her " ambiguous For- mularies"? This is not the case made by the Dean. He ANSWER TO DEAN MILMAN. 485 suggests a way of dealing with the Articles by which he seems to think that " the Romanisers " might have found shelter within the Church, and secession might have been avoided. True it is, the natural interpretation of the Articles seemed, to some at least of the leaders of this party, as irreconcilable with the tenets which they con- sciously held. " Ambiguous Formularies " were not so inflexible. These men were learned and subtle ; every liberty that could be taken with language was to them familiar. They proposed to empty the decrees of Trent and the Articles of our Church respectively of their known historical meaning, and by a process which no form of words could withstand, they tried to make the Articles seem to comprehend the very errors which they were mainly designed to condemn. This was what Mr. New- man describes in his letter to Dr. Jelf, as " interpreting the Articles in the most Catholic sense they will admit." But after all, we had a sure protection in the Articles, first from what the Dean of St. Paul's has himself, in another part of his able paper, suggested to be " the real key and the true rule for the interpretation — -the design and aim of the lawgiver, the animus imponentis ;" next, from the wise rules of judicial construction lucidly applied to the Articles by Lord Stowell, and since established by the judgment in the Gorham case. This very controversy with the Romanisers has given us the valuable and in- structive judgment of Sir Herbert Jenner Fust in Mr. Oakeley's case (i Robertson, Eccl. Rep. 353), in which he shows the contrast and the contrariety of the enactments of Trent and the declarations made in our Articles. We have also the instinctive honesty and directness of the English mind, which could not, and never will, endure the duplicity and deceit of any form of non-natural interpre- tation. I care not what name it may assume, whether " the Catholic sense," or " the comprehensive construction," if the result is to end in complicity with condemned doc- trine. 486 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. The Dean has come to the rescue with all the chivalry of a " Dean errant." He is not so much the defender of the movement as the apologist of the men. The great moralist, Bishop Butler, has taught us, in his memorable sermon on Balaam, the significance of the moral law, by which a man may become the greatest dupe of his own dupli- city ; and therefore I am not surprised that the secession was but partial, and that some could reconcile it with con- science to abide in our Church. There is in the movement much that may be explained, little that can be excused, and nothing that can be commended, except the secession at the end. Our Scriptural Articles, speaking throughout with the idiom of truth, that falsehood cannot imitate — not " with the stammering lips of ambiguous Formularies," but with the plainness and honesty of their truth-loving framers (men who never could have stooped to explain or compli- ment away the truths which they held to be vital) — were found to be incapable of any natural interpretation, by which those who seceded could reconcile their inward con- victions with the declared doctrine of our Church. They were constrained to secede, and, in so doing, they proved that the Articles were protective. I say, then, the Dean's argument breaks down ; his select instances put him out of court. His next instance is the Gorham case. But here the Sacramental Office in the Book of Common Prayer, though said by the Dean to be more instructive than the Articles, was not more protective. If he is not prepared to question the sufficiency of the Prayer Book in reference to Baptismal Regeneration, it is in vain to object to the insufficiency of the Articles. It may be that, from insufficient attention to the Scriptural use and exact meaning of words, confusion of thought and verbal con- troversy have arisen, that might have been avoided. This is not owing to any deficiency either in the Articles or in the Prayer Book, which agree in substance. Be this as it may, the Dean commends the decision, and rejoices to find that there was nothing either in the Articles or Formularies ANSWER TO DEAN MILMAN. 487 which made it necessary legally to condemn Mr. Gorham. Let me then ask, how does he here show that the Articles should be cast aside as lumber, and that it is for the interest of the Church to retain subscription only to the Prayer Book, as of itself a sufficient protection ? How does this prove that subscription to the Articles is " a very immoral trial of the conscience"? But he comes next- and last to the recent case, which has stirred up so much controversy about " the inspiration of the Scriptures." He here deals with the second group of Articles ; he gives a lucid analysis of them, and points out what he considers to be the questions which the Church has left open. This is not the occasion to enter upon a criticism of the list which he has drawn up. The positive value of this group of Articles depends on the importance of the questions which they' have authoritatively closed. I will take the two leading points, as given by the Dean. The Scripture, and the Scripture alone, is the rule of faith, and the Canonital Books alone are " the Scripture." These (to use the Dean's exact and expressive words) are " the two great truths on which rested the Reformation." Tra- dition -and the Apocrypha are excluded as of inferior, because of human, authority. The Canonical Scriptures are "God's Word written"— that "Holy Writ" of which the Church is " a witness and a keeper " — and they are . declared to be of supreme authority because Divine. To this standard the Church refers as the ultimate test of all her teaching and of all her ministrations. If, then, we have in the Articles the very basis of the Reformation, if here is the centre of all the Church's operations in defence of truth and in denunciation of error, and if no substitute can be shown in the Prayer Book for these great funda- mental declarations, the argument of the Dean against the subscription to the Articles is illusory, as it is plainly inconclusive. Doubtless, other and important questions have been left open ; but there may be enough to show that in the abstinence of the Church there is exhibited a 488 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. wise moderation. " There are," says the Bishop of St. David's, in his masterly and luminous Charge to his clergy in 1863 — "there are many things in which our highest wisdom is to resign ourselves to the consciousness of our ignorance, and to the certainty, that on this side the grave we shall never know more of them than we do." The work of the Holy Spirit may well be considered as one of these things. Whether in the regeneration of the baptized infant, or in the inspiration of the prophet or apostle, we can neither define His operation, nor fix the limit of His influence. In making the standard of Canonical Scripture as of supreme, because of Divine, authority, the Church has acknowledged that the whole has been given by inspiration of God. Let us be content with the moral certainty that the framers of the Articles and Formularies unreservedly believed in the special operation of the Holy Spirit, as having sufficiently qualified and guided those who wrote the Scriptures. It is not for man speculatively to deter- mine how or in what measure the Divine element has been blended with the human. There may be sufficiency with- out perfection ; and we should collect the gracious purpose of God from what He has done and given, not from any preconceived notion of what we think He must have de- signed. There is, then, a class of controverted questions on which we have no dogmatic decision, and we have to collect what we can by way of inference and deduction ; but this is not dogmatic. We should be satisfied with the sunshine in which we may live and walk, without curiously seeking to measure the passing shadows. But, after all, consider the result of what the Dean has here suggested. Does it show that the Prayer Book is of itself sufficient, or that there is no positive value in the Articles ? Far from it. The Church has, indeed, left a large liberty to her members, which they are bound to use responsibly, and as the servants of God. Even in the controversies which she has professed to close, she has amply provided for ANSWER TO DEAN MILMAN. 489 differences of subjective apprehension and different aspects of Scriptural truth as viewed from several stand-points. A sect or a party may be founded on a narrow and partial interpretation ; but it is the privilege and the mission of the Church of Christ to vindicate revealed truth in its fulness, as it is set forth in the pure Word of God. When the Dean, therefore, refers to distinguished names in the Church, of those who have been of her household, and points to their differences as incompatible with the unity which the Articles professed to encourage, he overlooks the directing and moral influence which the Articles may have exercised over the hearts and consciences of many who have joined " the cloud of witnesses." Many have been led in the same direction without having been com- pelled to move in the same track. " For the love of God " (says the illustrious Bishop of Worcester, John Hooper, in a letter to Sir William Cecil) "cause the Articles that the King's Majesty spoke of, when we took our oaths, to be set forth by his authority. I doubt not but they shall do much good. For I will cause every minister to confess them openly before their parishioners." He could appre- ciate the moral effect of such a declaration. It may be that the liberty conceded by the Church has been abused, and that no complete remedy has been provided by the Articles to meet the occasional excess. But, on the other hand, the nature and extent of this liberty is often mis- understood. It is not the partial view of a section or mere private opinion that is the true measure of it. It is secured by comprehension without compromise. The members of a sect may insist on an adherence to some narrow or frag- mentary creed ; they are thus compressed and packed together. But the doctrine of the Church is not the less definite because it has a Scriptural latitude adapted to differences of subjective apprehension. Men are prone to substitute their sect or their section for the Church itself, and their partial opinion for the whole truth, and to regard 490 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. some of the very differences for which the Church has provided, as a mark of schism or an abuse of liberty. The solar beam is composed of distinct colours, but in their intimate coalescence they give the light of heaven to the earth. It has been the object of the Church to provide for Christian liberty and for Christian unity. Her Articles were obviously intended to encourage unity, and to be articles of peace. This peace, however, was not to be obtained by unauthorized interpretation, nor by a slavish ■ or an unreasoning submission to the mere letter, but by an intelligent and honest assent to the substance and spirit, to the main principles and distinct statements. The argument of the Dean is not helped by the epithets "hard and inflexible." Truth may be severely exact without forfeiting its sacred character. Had the Church authority to determine controversies of faith? Has she exercised this authority in accordance with God's Word ? Has she an established doctrine, and has it been explicitly declared? Is she to commit this doctrine to faithful men, able to teach others, and is she to give this commission without having tested the faithfulness or the competence of those who are to minister her doctrine ? These are the questions to be answered, and they are not to be evaded, nor are they answered by any form of hard words. The Church has a higher office than to satisfy the demands of contending parties. She has to provide for the vindication and transmission of revealed truth, which she is bound to keep pure and undefiled, and to commit to faithful men. Her commission must not be compared with admission to a learned secular profession. The one is of Divine institution, the other merely human. The one confers a public and official authority, the other personal privilege. The commission to minister the doctrine of the Church is the decisive distinction. The substance of the Articles and the spirit of the Prayer Book should always be combined. The rules for the true construction of both are now judicially settled, and it is in vain to huddle up ANSWER TO DEAN MILMAN. 49 1 blind charges of uncertainty and perplexity, which the Dean has assumed to be well founded. They are at once met by a reference to the authoritative decisions on the subject. As to the Articles, they are to be construed in the ■ plain, usual, and grammatical meaning of the words, so far modified as to avoid absurdity, contradiction, or repug- nance throughout the whole. In the Prayer Book, we are not to confound what is devotional with what is dog- matical. We are to distinguish. We are to apply the well- known rule — secundum subjectam materiem. What is dog- matical is to be dealt with as if in the Articles. But the devotional services are not to be treated as declaratory, nor to be construed by the hard rules of a rigid logic. These are the Church's prayers, inspired by faith and hope and charity. They must be interpreted as the language of devotion, by the rule of piety, and according to the analogy of Scripture and apostolic example. The sense is not here to be taken as of course absolute and unconditional. It may be relative and qualified, and is to be ascertained by a careful consideration of the nature of the subject and the true doctrine applicable to it. A reference to Simeon's Works (Vol. II., p. 259) reminds me that some of the current difficulties both in the Articles and the Prayer Book are Bible difficulties, which we may expect to give way before a more exact and intelligent study of the Holy Scriptures. Other difficul- ties arise out of a strict and literal construction of par- ticular passages taken by themselves ; but this may be generally met by the rule of interpretation which directs us so to modify the letter in one place as not to raise a palpable contradiction to what is clear and accepted in another, and that we are bound to prefer the meaning by which we neither disappoint nor defeat the intention with 'which, after a careful perusal of the whole, we are morally convinced it has been framed. This is a summary (though I fear it is an imperfect 492 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. one) of what I take to be the fair result of the recent decisions. They introduce no novelty. It is but the appli- cation of established rules of construction to the docu- ments which constitute a part of the law of Church and State. Adopted as these documents have been by both, it must have been intended by both that the Articles and the Prayer Book should be so understood and so inter- preted as to be reconcilable and consistent. The Church does not exact subscription to them separately, but as one transaction. It gives an undue advantage to the objector to allow him to deal with them separately. "There is hardly a statement" (says the Dean of Westminster) "to which any objection can be raised in the Articles which is not neutralized by some countervailing expression in the Prayer Book." How often do we find that there is a larger truth that grows out of and reconciles seerning con- tradictions ! This should never be forgotten by the thought- ful and candid reader of the Bible, nor in the use of the Articles and Prayer Book. In requiring subscription to the Articles and the Prayer Book thus taken together, there is (according to the Dean of St. Paul's) " a very dangerous, a very objectionable, a very immoral trial of the conscience." These are hard words ; but hard words are not a substitute for strong or sufficient reasons. There are (as the Dean himself admits) " primary and fundamental truths " in one group of the Articles set forth not only with the utmost nicety and precision of language, but as intelligibly as the subject admits. There is another group, in which the two great truths on which (as he also admits) the Reformation rests, are set forth with unexceptionable ' clearness and moderation. Is it an "immoral trial of the conscience" to require these to be subscribed by the commissioned minister of the Church reformed ? Does it cease to be " a temptation to gulp down all without thought or with- out inquiry " (these are the Dean's words) if the doctrines ANSWER TO DEAN MILMAN. 493 are no longer declared in distinct, intelligible, and definite statement, specially and naturally adapted for a test and a profession of belief ; and if they are presented only in " the more winning " forms of the Liturgy, as if they were a nauseous medicine deceptively administered in syrup to a wayward child ? Concealment in any form must more or less defeat the moral purpose and effect of the subscription. " It is," says Lord Bacon, " in the nature of a confession, and therefore more proper to bind in the unity of faith, and to be urged rather for articles of doctrine than for rites and ceremonies and points of outward government." That there are expressions and passages in the Articles which might be the subject of revision and amendment, I freely concede. But this is not peculiar to the Articles; I would say as much of the Book of Common Prayer, and not less of the Authorized Version of the Bible. Whether as to these I may be disposed to " offer the sacrifice of a willing silence to the public peace of the Church," or to join with those who desire to see such amendments pru- dently and responsibly made, is relevant to the present discussion. The Dean of St. Paul's does not propose to discriminate, but to destroy ; he does not suggest amend- ment, but abolition. If the Articles are not fit to be sub- scribed, they ought to be superseded and suppressed. They ought not in such case to remain as a part, as the main part, of that doctrine which " this Church and Realm has received," and the ministration of which in its fulness is made the subject of a deliberate pledge solemnly given on receiving Priest's Orders. Should any presume to minister if he could not morally subscribe the doctrine ? Has the Dean of St. Paul's considered this consequence of his proposal ? He cannot escape from it. Subscription or non-subscription has no effect on the doctrine as de- clared and established. It does not create nor abridge the obligation which the law of the Church and the law of the State imposes on him who takes Holy Orders — an 494 LECTURES, ESSAYS, AND LETTERS. obligation altogether irrespective of subscription. The sub- scription is to attest his moral and believing assent to this doctrine, and so far as it is not fit to be subscribed, it is not fit to constitute a part of the Church's code. The Eiean does not seek to prune ; he lays the axe to the root of the tree : " cut it down, why cumbereth it the ground ?" His argument is directed against all the Articles as a code of definite and dogmatic doctrine; the language of some, and the seeming inutility of others, is only brought for- ward in aid of the general attack which he makes upon the whole. An ancient mansion may not be the less convenient for a modern household because it has some old-fashioned apartments seldom (if ever) occupied. Whatever may be said of obsolete expressions or questionable passages in the Articles or the Prayer Book, it has not been shown that there exists any real impedi- ment to giving a general honest assent to both as the Church's repository of doctrine and devotion — " Truth's consecrated residence, the seat Impregnable of liberty and peace." ANSWER TO DEAN MILMAN. 495 Letter from Archbishop Longley, on Clerical Subscription. Lambeth Palace, S., March 14th, 1865. Mv DEAR Mr. Napier, I felt quite sure that Dean Milman would give to the world, in some shape or other, his views on the subject of Subscription, as expressed to us in his memorandum, read at the Commission. I have talked over the subject with Lord Harrowby; and he agrees with me in thinking that you would be quite justified in publishing the answer which you put in, mentioning no more of the incidents at the Commission respecting the Dean's Paper and yours, than may be necessary for correcting any erroneous state- ment of the Dean's. Believe me, My dear Mr. Napier, Very truly yours, C. T. Cantuar. PRINTED BY CHARLES W. GIBBS, i8 WicKLOw Street, DUBLIN. Wiiwliiiiriift'liiiii™^