1 10 4 https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/25778/archive/files/bd7476f1dfcd5742ab857e7c57fabf5e.pdf?Expires=1779321600&Signature=j6rCbk4y-MAhmBczmH%7ElKbsxfrqq%7E19vOfnK2kM7Z-rnUoLbrcMyUx8mp80IdGnf9XYfTLuPzgyE91wGoc0a6Yx6R2DhUfXvZUkLSt3cWpvlscnLx6XTmDrgm82kk-pwcRWRSILEloeMTaOii8ZRw810jN4AunBgQ5brr0mxwWsVaObTsWL1vhwmLEX9T09noYi%7EAJMorqk-P%7EWPZ9EIuh2ynCvk0XTuEqrCu6Sjmc2QNy9TPNZbMhuGqc8Fta51lE4U7ZrdHl0ZD%7Eez05xv0Y8whvRFZsW7NxzCh0B6kNRZa7k9%7Epxtdg2t0dc0ixH8UaSgGk4NHYa07SWbzzn-1w__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM 7faabb94e01617967c32587c91d457fd PDF Text Text 171.4 LVE —...... = The Pleasures of Life BY THE RIGHT HON. SIR JOHN LUBBOCK, BART., M.P. F.R.S., D.C.L., LL.D. Volition MACMILLAN AND CO., Limited 1899 Price Sixpence �9omp. ‘ Give me Health and a Day, and I will make the Pomp of Emperors Ridiculous.’—Emerson. “ As an illustration of the BENEFICIAL EFFECTS of Eno’s ‘ Fruit Salt,’ I give you particulars of the case of one of my friends. His whole life was clouded by the want of vigorous health, and SLUGGISH LIVER and its concomitant BILIOUS HEADACHES so affected him, that he was obliged to live upon only a few articles of diet, and to be most sparing in their use. This did nothing in effecting a cure, although persevered in for some twenty-five years, and also consulting very eminent members of the faculty. By the use of your simple ‘Fruit Salt,’ however, he now ENJOYS VIGOROUS HEALTH, has NEVER had HEADACHE or CONSTI­ PATION since he commenced it, and can partake of his food in such a hearty manner as to afford great satisfac­ tion to himself and friends. There are others to whom your remedy has been SO BENEFICIAL in various kinds of complaints that I think you may very well extend its use pro bono publico. I find that it makes a VERY REFRESHING and INVIGORATING drink.—I remain, dear Sir, yours faithfully, Veritas.” {From the late Rev. J. TV. Neil, Holy Trinity Church, North Shields.} Experience! ‘ Vie Gather the Honey of Wisdom From Thorns, not from Flowers.’—Lytton. HOW TO AVOID The INJURIOUS EFFECTS OF STIMULANTS. THE PRESENT SYSTEM OF LIVING— partaking of too rich foods, as pastry, saccharine and fatty substances, alcoholic drinks, and an insufficient amount of exercise—FREQUENTLY DERANGES THE LIVER. I would ADVISE all BILIOUS PEOPLE, unless they are careful to keep the liver acting freely, to exercise great care in the use of alcoholic drinks; avoid sugar, and always dilute largely with water. EXPERIENCE SHOWS that porter, mild ales, port wine, dark sherries, sweet champagne, liqueurs and brandies, are ALL very APT to DISAGREE; while light white wines, and gin or old whisky largely diluted with pure mineral water, will be found the least objectionable. ENO’S ‘ FRUIT SALT ’ is PECULIARLY ADAPTED for any CONSTITUTIONAL WEAKNESS of the LIVER; it possesses the power of reparation when digestion has been disturbed or lost, and PLACES the INVALID on the RIGHT TRACK to HEALTH. A WORLD of WOES is avoided by those who KEEP and USE ENO’S ‘FRUIT SALT.’ Therefore NO FAMILY SHOULD EVER BE WITHOUT IT. THE VALUE OF ENO’S ‘FRUIT SALT’ CANNOT BE TOLD. Its Success in Europe, Asia, Africa, America, and Australia proves it. The effect of ENO’S ‘ FRUIT SALT ’ upon any DISORDERED, SLEEPLESS, and FEVERISH condition of the system is SIMPLY MARVELLOUS. It is, in fact, NATURE’S OWN REMEDY, and AN UNSURPASSED ONE. CAUTION.—See Capsule marked ENO'S 1 FRUIT SALT.' Without it you have a WORTHLESS IMITATION. Prepared only by J. C. ENO, Ltd., at the1 FRUIT SALT ’ WORKS, London, by J. C. ENO’S Patent. �1 If you want to preserve your hair and prevent baldness YOU MUST USE ROWLANDS’ MACASSAR OIL some kind of grease ; cold water ruins the hair, and most hair restorers dry up and wither it. All doctors will tell you that: is the most perfect restorer, preserver, and strengthener of the hair you can use, and being specially refined and purified, does not have the greasy effect of pomades o’- other oils. It prevents baldness and eradicates scurf, and is also sold in a GOLDEN COLOUR for fair and grey hair. Bottles, 3s. 6d., 7s., and 10s. 6d. Sold by Stores and Chemists. NATIONAL PROVIDENT. — INSTITUTION. FOR MUTUAL LIFE ASSURANCE. PROFITS.—The whole are divided amongst the Assured; already divided, £5,400,000. At the division in 1897 there were nearly 1000 Policies, in respect of which not only were the Premiums entirely extinguished, but Cash Bonuses were also paid, whilst in the case of many Policies the original sums assured are now more than doubled by the Bonus Additions. ENDOWMENT-ASSURANCE POLICIES ARE ISSUED, COMBINING LIFE ASSURANCE AT MINIMUM COST, WITH PROVISION FOR OLD AGE. The practical effect of these Policies in the National Provident Institution 48 is that the Member’s life is assured until he reaches the age agreed upon, and on his reaching that age the whole of the Premiums paid are returned to him, and a considerable sum in addition, representing a by no means insignificant rate of interest on his payments. Applications for Agencies invited. Gracechurch 8t., London, E.C. Arthur smither, Actuary and secretary. BOOKS OF ^Liberal IReligion. PHILIP GREEN, 5 Essex Street, Strand, W.C., will forward, post free, on application, a NEW CATALOGUE of BOOKS of LIBERAL RELIGION and ^THEOLOGY, containing Works by Dr. >hartineau, Stopford A. Brooke, R. A. Armstrong, J. Estlin Carpenter, Dr. Brooke Herford, J. W. Chadwick, M. J. Savage, and other English and American Unitarian and Liberal Religious Teachers. NO HOUSEHOLD BE Philip Green, 5 Essex St., Strand, W.C. WITHOUT SHOULD IT. THE CHEAP EDITIONS OF MRS. HENRY WOOD’S NOVELS. Crown 8vo. in green cloth, 2s. each, or in red cloth, gilt lettered, 2s. 6d. each. SALE OVER TWO MILLION AND A HALF COPIES. Trevlyn Hold. 65th Thousand. Court Netherleigh. 46 th Thousand. East Lynne. 480th Thousand. The Channings. 180th Thousand. Mrs. Halliburton’s Troubles. 150th Thousand. v."’he Shadow of Ashlydyat. 100th Thousand. Lord Oakbum’s Daughters. 105th Thousand. Verner’s Pride. 85th Thousand. Roland Yorke. 130th Thousand. | Johnny Ludlow. First Series. 50th Thousand. Mildred Arkell. 80th Thousand. 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MACMILLAN AND CO., Ltd., LONDON. 70th Thousand. ��PREFACE Those who have the pleasure of attending the opening meetings of schools and colleges, and of giving away prizes and certificates, are generally expected at the same time to offer such words of counsel and encouragement as the ex­ perience of the world might enable them to give to those who are entering life. Having been myself when young rather prone to suffer from low spirits, I have at several of these gatherings taken the opportunity of dwelling on the privileges and blessings we enjoy, and I reprint here the substance of some of these addresses (omitting what was special to the circumstances of each case, and freely making any alterations and additions which have since occurred to me), hoping that the thoughts and quotations in which I have myself found most comfort may perhaps be of use to others also. - It is hardly necessary to say that I have not by any means referred to all the sources of happiness open to us, some indeed of the greatest pleasures and blessings being altogether omitted. In reading over the proofs I feel that some sentences may appear too dogmatic, but I hope that allowance will be made for the circumstances under which they were delivered. High Elms, Down, Kent, January 1887. �PREFACE TO THE TWENTIETH EDITION A lecture which I delivered three years ago at the Working Men’s College, and which forms the fourth chapter of this book, has given rise to a good deal of discussion. The Pall Mall Gazette took up the subject and issued a circular to many of those best qualified to express an opinion. This elicited many interesting replies, and some other lists of books were drawn up. When my book was translated, a similar discussion took place in Germany. The result has been very gratifying, and after carefully considering the suggestions which have been made, I see no reason for any material change in the first list. I had not presumed to form a list of my own, nor did I profess to give my own favourites. My attempt was to give those most generally recommended by previous writers on the subject. In the various criticisms on my list, while large additions, amounting to several hundred works in all, have been proposed, very few omissions have been suggested. As regards those v orks with reference to which some doubts have been expressed—namely, the few Oriental books, Wake’s Apostolic Fathers, etc.—I may observe that I drew up the list, not as that of the hundred best books, but, which is very different, of those which have been most frequently recommended as best worth reading. For instance as regards the Shelving and the Analects of Confucius°I must-humbly confess that I do not greatly admire either ; but I recommended them because they are held in the most profound veneration by the Chinese race, containing 400,000,000 of our fellow-men. I may add that both works are quite short. The Ramayana and Maha Bliarata (as epitomised by Wheeler) and St. Hilaire’s Bouddha are not only very interesting in themselves, but very important in reference to our great oriental Empire. The authentic writings of the Apostolic Fathers are very short, being indeed comprised in one small volume, and as the only works (which have come down to us) of those who lived with and knew the Apostles, they are certainly well worth reading. I have been surprised at the great divergence of opinion which has been expressed. Nine lists of some length have been published. These lists contain some three hundred works not mentioned by me (without, however, any corresponding omissions), and yet there is not one single book which occurs in every list, or even in half of them, and only about half a dozen which appear in more than one of the nine. If these authorities, or even a majority of them, had concurred in their recom­ mendations, I would have availed myself of them ; but as they differ so greatly I will allow my list to remain almost as I first proposed it. I have, however, added Kalidasa’s Safomfato or The Lost Ring, and Schiller’s Wilhelm Tell, omitting, in consequence, Lucretius and Miss Austen : Lucretius because though his work is most remarkable, it is perhaps too difficult and therefore less generally suitable than most of the others in the list; and Miss Austen because English novelists were somewhat over-represented. High Elms, Down, Kent, August 1890. �CONTENTS PART I CHAP. * PAGE I. The Duty of II. The Happiness III. A Song of of V. The Blessing VI.The . . Friends . Value of Time VII. The Pleasures VIII. The Pleasures IX.Science . . Books of 1 ... Duty ...... of Books IV. The Choice . Happiness of of . . .13 . . . 17 . . . . .22 . . . . .25 - . 28 Travel . . . . . Home . . . . .32 ........ X. Education 7 . . . . . 36 .42 �‘ All places that the eye of Heaven visits Are to the wise man ports and happy havens.” Shakespeare. “ Some murmur, when their sky is clear And wholly bright to view, If one small speck of dark appear In their great heaven of blue. And some with thankful love are fill’d If but one streak of light, One ray of God’s good mercy gild The darkness of their night. ‘ ‘ In palaces are hearts that ask, In discontent and pride, Why life is such a dreary task, And all good things denied. And hearts in poorest huts admire How love has in their aid (Love that not ever seems to tire) Such rich provision made.” Trench. �THE PLEASURES OF LIFE PART I CHAPTER I THE DUTY OF HAPPINESS1 “ If a man is unhappy, this must be his own fault; for God made all men to be happy.”— Epictetus. Life is a great gift, and as we reach years of discretion, we most of us natur­ ally ask ourselves what should be the main object of our existence. Even those who do not accept “the greatest good of the greatest number” as an absolute rule, will yet admit that we should all endeavour to contribute as far as we may to the happiness of others. There are many, however, who seem to doubt whether it is right that we should try to be happy ourselves. Our own happiness ought not, of course, to be our main object, nor indeed will it ever be secured if selfishly sought. We may have many pleasures in life, but must not let them have rule over us, or they will soon hand us over to sorrow; and “ into jvhat dangerous and miserable servitude doth he fall who suffereth pleasures and sorrows (two unfaithful and cruel com­ manders) to possess him successively 1” 2 I cannot, however, but think that the world would be better and brighter if our teachers would dwell on the Duty of Happiness as well as on the Happiness of Duty; for we ought to be as cheerful as we can, if only because to be happy our­ selves, is a most effectual contribution to the happiness of others. 1 The substance of this was delivered at the Harris Institute, Preston. 2 Seneca. B Every one must have felt that a cheer­ ful friend is like a sunny day, shedding brightness on all around ; and most of us can, as we choose, make of this world either a palace or a prison. There is no doubt some selfish satisfac­ tion in yielding to melancholy, and fancy­ ing that we are victims of fate ; in brood­ ing over grievances, especially if more or less imaginary. To be bright and cheer­ ful often requires an effort; there is a certain art in keeping ourselves happy : and in this respect, as in others, we re­ quire to watch over and manage ourselves, almost as if we were somebody else. Sorrow and joy, indeed, are strangely interwoven. Too often “We look before and after, And pine for wliat is not: Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught ; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. ”1 As a nation we are prone to melancholy. It has been said of our countrymen that they take even their pleasures sadly. But this, if it be true at all, will, I hope, prove a transitory characteristic. “ Merry England ” was the old saying ; let us hope it may become true again. We must look to the East for real melancholy. What can be sadder than the lines with which Omar Khayyam opens his quatrains : 2 “ We sojourn here for one short day or two, And all the gain we get is grief and woe ; And then, leaving life’s problems all unsolved And harassed by regrets, we have to go ; ” 1 Shelley. 2 I quote from Whinfield’s translation. IE �2 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE PART I or the Devas’ song to Prince Siddartha, inherit ; the glories and beauties of the in Edwin Arnold’s beautiful version : Universe, which is our own if we choose to have it so ; the extent to which we can ‘ ‘ We are the voices of tlie wandering wind, Which moan for rest, and rest can never find. make ourselves what we wish to be ; or Lo ! as the wind is, so is mortal life— the power we possess of securing peace, of A moan, a sigh, a sob, a storm, a strife. ” triumphing over pain and sorrow. If this indeed be true, if mortal life Dante pointed to the neglect of oppor­ be so sad and full of suffering, no wonder tunities as a serious fault: that Nirvana—the cessation of sorrow— “Man can do violence should be welcomed even at the sacrifice To himself and his own blessings, and for this of consciousness. He, in the second round, must aye deplore, With unavailing penitence, his crime. But ought we not to place before our­ Whoe’er deprives himself of life and light selves a very different ideal—a healthier, In reckless lavishment his talent wastes, manlier, and nobler hope ? And sorrows then when he should dwell in joy.” Life is not to live merely, but to live Ruskin has expressed this with special well. There are some “ who live without any design at all, and only pass in the allusion to the marvellous beauty of this world like straws on a river : they do not glorious world, too often taken as a matter go ; they are carried,”1—-but as Homer of course, and remembered, if at all, al­ makes Ulysses say, “ How dull it is to most without gratitude. “ Holy men,” he pause, to make an end, to rest un­ complains, “in the recommending of the burnished ; not to shine in use — as love of God to us, refer but seldom to those things in which it is most abundantly and though to breathe were life ! ” Goethe tells us that at thirty he resolved immediately shown; though they insist “ to work out life no longer by halves, much on His giving of bread, and raiment, and health (which He gives to all inferior but in all its beauty and totality.” creatures): they require us not to thank “Im Ganzen, Guten, Schonen Him for that glory of His works which Resolut zu leben.” He has permitted us alone to perceive : Life indeed must be measured by they tell us often to meditate in the closet, thought and action, not by time. It but they send us not, like Isaac, into the certainly may be, and ought to be, bright, fields at even : they dwell on the duty of interesting, and happy ; for, according to self-denial, but they exhibit not the duty the Italian proverb, “ if all cannot live on of delight: ” and yet, as he justly says the Piazza, every one may feel the sun.” elsewhere, “ each of us, as we travel the If we do our best; if we do not mag­ way of life, has the choice, according to nify trifling troubles ; if we look resolutely, our working, of turning all the voices of I do not say at the bright side of things, Nature into one song of rejoicing ; or of but at things as they really are ; if we withering and quenching her sympathy avail ourselves of the manifold blessings into a fearful withdrawn silence of con­ which surround us ; we cannot but feel demnation,—into a crying out of her that life is indeed a glorious inheritance. stones and a shaking of her dust against “ More servants wait on man us.” Than he’ll take notice of. In every path Must we not all admit, with Sir Henry lie treads down that which doth befriend Taylor, that “the retrospect of life swarms him When sickness makes him pale and wan. with lost opportunities ” ? “ Whoever en­ Oh mighty Love ! Man is one world, and hath joys not life,” says Sir T. Browne, “ I Another to attend him.” 2 count him but an apparition, though he Few of us, however, realise the wonder­ wears about him the visible affections of ful privilege of living, or the blessings we flesh.” St. Bernard, indeed, goes so far as to 1 Seneca. 2 Herbert. �CHAP. I THE DUTY OF HAPPINESS 3 and that “ rather than follow a multitude to do evil,” one should “ stand like Pom­ pey’s pillar, conspicuous by oneself, and single in integrity.” 1 But to many this isolation would be itself most painful, for the heart is “ no island cut off from other lands, but a continent that joins to them.”2 If we separate ourselves so much from the interests of those around us that we do not sympathise with them in their sufferings, we shut ourselves out from sharing their happiness, and lose far more than we gain. If we avoid sympathy and wrap ourselves round in a cold chain armour of selfishness, we exclude ourselves from many of the greatest and purest joys of life. To render ourselves insensible to pain we must forfeit also the possibility of happiness. Moreover, much of what we call evil is really good in disguise, and we should not “ quarrel rashly with adversities not yet understood, nor overlook the mercies often bound up in them.” 3 Pleasure and pain are, as Plutarch says, the nails which fasten body and soul together. Pain is a signal of danger, a very necessity of existence. But for it, but for the warnings which our feelings give us, the very bless­ ings by ■which we are surrounded would soon and inevitably prove fatal. Many of those who have not studied the question are under the impression that the more deeply-seated portions of the body must be most sensitive. The very reverse is the case. The skin is a continuous and ever-watchful sentinel, always on guard to give us notice of any approaching danger ; while the flesh and inner organs, where pain would be without purpose, “ Unaffrighted by the silence round them, Undistracted by the sights they see, are, so long as they are in health, com­ These demand not that the things without paratively without sensation. them “We talk,” says Helps, “of the origin Yield them love, amusement, sympathy. of evil ; . . . but what is evil ? We mostly Bounded by themselves, and unobservant speak of sufferings and trials as good, per­ In what state God’s other works may be, haps, in their result ; but we hardly In their own tasks all their powers pouring, These attain the mighty life you see.” admit that they may be good in them­ selves. Yet they are knowledge—how It is true that else to be acquired, unless by making “ A man is his own star ; maintain that “nothing can work me damage except myself; the harm that I sustain I carry about with me, and never am a real sufferer but by my own fault.” Some Heathen moralists also have taught very much the same lesson. “ The gods,” says Marcus Aurelius, “ have put all the means in man’s power to enable him not to fall into real evils. Now that which does not make a man worse, how can it make his life worse ? ” Epictetus takes the same line : “ If a man is unhappy, remember that his un­ happiness is his own fault; for God has made all men to be happy.” “ I am,” he elsewhere says, “ always content with that which happens ; for I think that what God chooses is better than what I choose.” And again : “ Seek not that things should happen as you wish ; but wish the things which happen to be as they are, and you will have a tranquil flow of life. ... If you wish for anything which belongs to another, you lose that which is your own.” Few, however, if any, can I think go as far as St. Bernard. We cannot but suffer from pain, sickness, and anxiety; from the loss, the unkindness, the faults, even the coldness of those we love. How many a day has been damped and dark­ ened by an angry word ! Hegel is said to have calmly finished his Phaenomenologie des Geistes at Jena, on the 14th October 1806, not knowing any­ thing whatever of the battle that was raging round him. Matthew Arnold has suggested that we might take a lesson from the heavenly bodies. Our acts our angels are For good or ill,” 1 Sir T. Browne. 2 Bacon. 3 Sir T. Browne. �4 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE men. as gods, enabling them to understand without experience. All that men go through may be absolutely the best for them—no such thing as evil, at least in our customary meaning of the word.” Indeed, “ the vale best discovereth the hill,” 1 and “ pour sentir les grands biens, il faut qu’il connoisse les petits maux.” 2 But even if we do not seem to get all that we should wish, many will feel, as in Leigh Hunt’s beautiful translation of Filicaja’s sonnet, that — “ So Providence for us, high, infinite, Makes our necessities its watchful task, Hearkens to all our prayers, helps all our wants, And e’en if it denies what seems our right, Either denies because ’twould have us ask, Or seems but to deny, and in denying grants.” Those on the other hand who do not accept the idea of continual interferences, will rejoice in the belief that on the whole the laws of the Universe work out for the general happiness. And if it does come— “ Grief should be Like joy, majestic, equable, sedate, Confirming, cleansing, raising, making free : Strong to consume small troubles; to commend Great thoughts, grave thoughts, thoughts last­ ing to the end.” 3 If, however, we cannot hope that life will be all happiness, we may at least secure a heavy balance on the right side ; and even events which look like mis­ fortune, if boldly faced, may often be turned to good. Oftentimes, says Seneca, “calamity turns to our advantage; and great ruins make way for greater glories.” Helmholtz dates his start in science to an attack of illness. This led to his acquisition of a microscope, which he was enabled to purchase, owing to his having spent his autumn vacation of 1841 in the hospital, prostrated by typhoid fever ; being a pupil, he was nursed without expense, and on his recovery he found himself in possession of the savings of his small resources. “ Savonarola,” says Castelar, “ would, 1 Bacon. 2 Rousseau. 3 Aubrey de Vere. PART I under different circumstances, undoubtedly have been a good husband, a tender father; a man unknown to history, utterly powerless to print upon the sands of time and upon the human soul the deep trace which he has left : but mis­ fortune came to visit him, to crush his heart, and to impart that marked melan­ choly which characterises a soul in grief; and the grief that circled his brows with a crown of thorns was also that which wreathed them with the splendour of immortality. His hopes were centred in the woman he loved, his life was set upon the possession of her, and when her family finally rejected him, partly on account of his profession, and partly on account of his person, he believed that it was death that had come upon him, when in truth it was immortality.” It is, however, impossible to deny the existence of ewl, and the reason for it has long exercised the human intellect. The Savage solves it by the supposition of evil Spirits. Even the Greeks attributed the misfortunes of men in great measure to the antipathies and jealousies of gods and goddesses. Others have imagined two Celestial Beings, opposite and an­ tagonistic—the one friendly, the other hostile, to men. Freedom of action, however, seems to involve the existence of evil. If any power of selection be left us, much must depend on the choice we make. In the very nature of things, two and two cannot make five. Epictetus imagines Jupiter addressing man as follows : “ If it had been possible to make your body and your property free from liability to injury, I would have done so. As this could not be, I have given you a small portion of myself.” This divine gift it is for us to use wisely. It is, in fact, our most valuable treasure. “ The soul is a much better thing than all the others which you possess. Can you then show me in what way you have taken care of it ? For it is not likely that you, who are so wise a man, inconsiderately and carelessly allow �THE DUTY OF HAPPINESS CHAP. I the most valuable thing that you possess to be neglected and to perish.” 1 Moreover, even if evil cannot be alto­ gether avoided, it is no doubt true that not only whether the life we lead be good and useful, or evil and useless, but also whether it be happy or unhappy, is very much in our own power, and depends greatly on ourselves. “ Time alone re­ lieves the foolish from sorrow, but reason the wise,”2 and no one was ever yet made utterly miserable excepting by him­ self. We are, if not the masters, at any rate almost the creators of ourselves. With most of us it is not so much great sorrows, disease, or death, but rather the little “daily dyings” which cloud over the sunshine of life. Many of our troubles are insignificant in themselves, and might easily be avoided L How happy home might generally be made but for foolish quarrels, or mis­ understandings, as they are well named ! It is our own fault if we are querulous or ill-humoured ; nor need we, though this is less easy, allow ourselves to be made unhappy by the querulousness or illhumours of others. Much of what we suffer we have brought on ourselves, if not by actual fault, at least by ignorance or thought­ lessness. Too often we think only of the happiness of the moment, and sacrifice that of the life. Troubles comparatively seldom come to us, it is we who go to them. Many of us fritter our life away. La Bruyere says that “ most men spend much of their lives in making the rest miserable • ” or, as Goethe puts it: “ Careworn man has, in all ages, Sown vanity to reap despair.” Not only do we suffer much in the anticipation of evil, as “ Noah lived many years under the affliction of a flood, and Jerusalem was taken unto Jeremy before it was besieged,” but we often distress ourselves greatly in the apprehension of misfortunes which after all never happen at all. We should do our best and wait 1 Epictetus. 2 Ibid. 5 calmly the result. We often hear of people breaking down from overwork, but in nine cases out of ten they are really suffering from worry or anxiety. “Nos maux moraux,” says Rousseau, “ sont tous dans 1’opinion, hors un seul, qui est le crime ; et celui-la depend de nous : nos maux physiques nous detruisent, ou se detruisent. Le temps, ou la mort, sont nos remedes.” “ Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to heaven.” 1 This, however, applies to the grown up. With children of course it is different. It is customary, but I think it is a mistake, to speak of happy childhood. Children are often over-anxious and acutely sensi­ tive. Man ought to be man and master of his fate ; but children are at the mercy of those around them. Mr. Rarey, the great horse-tamer, has told us that he has known an angry word raise the pulse of a horse ten beats in a minute. Think then how it must affect a child ! It is small blame to the young if they are over-anxious ; but it is a danger to be striven against. “ The terrors of the storm are chiefly felt in the parlour or the cabin.” 2 To save ourselves from imaginary, or at any rate problematical, evils, we often incur real suffering. “The man,” said Epicurus, “who is not content with little is content with nothing.” How often do we “ labour for that which satisfieth not.” More than we use is more than we need, and only a burden to the bearer.3 We most of us give ourselves an immense amount of useless trouble ; encumber our­ selves, as it were, on the journey of life with a dead weight of unnecessary bag­ gage ; and as “a man maketh his train longer, he makes his wings shorter.” 4 In that delightful fairy tale, Alice through the Looking-Glass, the “ White Knight ” is described as having loaded himself on starting for a journey with a variety of odds and ends, including a mousetrap, lest 1 Shakespeare. 3 Seneca. 2 Emerson. 4 Bacon. �6 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE PART I he should be troubled by mice at night, “ How is it possible,” he says, “ that a and a bee-hive in case he came across a Inan who has nothing, who is naked, swarm of bees. houseless, without a hearth, squalid, with­ Hearne, in his Journey to the Mouth of out a slave, without a city, can pass a life the Coppermine River, tells us that a few that flows easily ? See, God has sent you days after starting on his expedition he a man to show you that it is possible. met a party of Indians, who annexed a Look at me, who am without a city, great deal of his property, and all Hearne without a house, without possessions, says is, “ The weight of our baggage being without a slave ; I sleep on the ground ; so much lightened, our next day’s journey I have no wife, no children, no prsetorium, was much pleasanter.” I ought, however, but only the earth and heavens, and one to add that the Indians broke up the poor cloak. And what do I want ? Am philosophical instruments, which,no doubt, I not without sorrow ? Am I not with­ were rather an encumbrance. out fear ? Am I not free ? When did When troubles do come, Marcus Aur­ any of you see me failing in the object of elius wisely tells us to “ remember on my desire ? or ever falling into that which every occasion which leads thee to vex­ I would avoid ? Did I ever blame God ation to apply this principle, that this is or man ? Did I ever accuse any man ? not a misfortune, but that to bear it nobly Did any of you ever see me with a is good fortune.” Our own anger indeed sorrowful countenance ? And how do I does us more harm than the thing which meet with those whom you are afraid of makes us angry; and we suffer much and admire ? Do not I treat them like more from the anger and vexation which slaves ? Who, when he sees me, does not we allow acts to rouse in us, than we do think that he sees his king and master ? ” from the acts themselves at which we are Think how much we have to be angry and vexed. How much most people, thankful for. Few of us appreciate the for instance, allow themselves to be dis­ number of our everyday blessings; we tracted and disturbed by quarrels and look on them as trifles, and yet “ trifles family disputes. Yet in nine cases out make perfection, and perfection is no of ten one ought not to suffer from being trifle,” as Michael Angelo said. We for­ found fault with. If the condemnation is get them because they are always with just, it should be welcome as a warning ; us ; and yet for each of us, as Mr. Pater if it is undeserved, why should we allow well observes, “ these simple gifts, and it to distress us 1 others equally trivial, bread and wine, Moreover, if misfortunes happen we do fruit and milk, might regain that poetic but make them worse by grieving over and, as it were, moral significance which them. surely belongs to all the means of our “ I must die,” says Epictetus. “ But daily life, could we but break through the must I then die sorrowing ? I must be veil of our familiarity with things by no put in chains. Must I then also lament? means vulgar in themselves.” I must go into exile. Can I be prevented “Let not,” says Isaak Walton, “the from going with cheerfulness and con­ blessings we receive daily from God make tentment ? But I will put you in prison. us not to value or not praise Him because Man, what are you saying ? You may they be common; let us not forget to put my body in prison, but my mind not praise Him for the innocent mirth and even Zeus himself can overpower.” pleasure we have met with since we met If, indeed, we cannot be happy, the together. What would a blind man give fault is generally in ourselves. Socrates to see the pleasant rivers and meadows lived under the Thirty Tyrants. Epic­ and flowers and fountains ; and this and tetus was a poor slave, and yet how much many other like blessings we enjoy daily.” we owe him ! Contentment, we have been told by �CHAP. I THE HAPPINESS OF DUTY Epicurus, consists not in great wealth, but in few wants. In this fortunate country, however, we may have many wants, and yet, if they are only reasonable, we may gratify them all. Nature indeed provides without stint the main requisites of human happiness. “.To watch the corn grow, or the blossoms set; to draw hard breath over plough­ share or spade ; to read, to think, to love, to pray,” these, says Ruskin, “ are the things that make men happy.” “ I have fallen into the hands of thieves,” says Jeremy Taylor ; “ what then ? They have left me the sun and moon, fire and water, a loving wife and many friends to pity me, and some to relieve me, and I can still discourse ; and, unless I list, they have not taken away my merry countenance and my cheerful spirit and a good conscience. . . . And he that hath so many causes of joy, and so great, is very much in love with sorrow and peevishness who loses all these pleasures, and chooses to sit down on his little handful of thorns.” “ When a man has such things to think on, and sees the sun, the moon, and stars, and enjoys earth and sea, he is not solitary or even helpless.” 1 “ Paradise indeed might,” as Luther said, “apply to the whole world.” What more is there we could ask for ourselves ? “Every sort of beauty,” says Mr. Greg,2 “has been lavished on our allotted home ; beauties to enrapture every sense, beauties to satisfy every taste • forms the noblest and the loveliest, colours the most gorgeous and the most delicate, odours the sweetest and subtlest, harmonies the most soothing and the most stirring : the sunny glories of the day; the pale Elysian grace of moonlight; the lake, the mountain, the primeval forest, and the boundless ocean; ‘ silent pinnacles of aged snow ’ in one hemisphere, the marvels of tropical luxuriance in another ; the serenity of sunsets; the sublimity of storms ; everything is bestowed in bound­ less profusion on the scene of our exist1 Epictetus, ? The Enigmas of Life. 7 ence ; we can conceive or desire nothing more exquisite or perfect than what is round us every hour; and our percep­ tions are so framed as to be consciously alive to all. The provision made for our sensuous enjoyment is in overflowing abundance ; so is that for the other elements of our complex nature. Who that has revelled in the opening ecstasies of a young Imagination, or the rich marvels of the world of Thought, does not confess that the Intelligence has been dowered at least with as profuse a benefi­ cence as the Senses ? Who that has truly tasted and fathomed human Love in its dawning and crowning joys has not thanked God for a felicity which indeed ‘passeth understanding.’ If we had set our fancy to picture a Creator occupied solely in devising delight for children whom he loved, we could not conceive one single element of bliss which is not here.” CHAPTER II THE HAPPINESS OF DUTY1 “I am always content with that which happens ; for I think that what God chooses is better than what I choose.” Epictetus. “ 0 God, All conquering ! this lower earth Would be for men the blest abode of mirth If they were strong in Thee As other things of this world well are seen ; Oh then, far other than they yet have been, How happy would men be.” King Alfred’s ed. of Boethius’s Consolations of Philosophy. We ought not to picture Duty to our­ selves, or to others, as a stern taskmistress. She is rather a kind and sympathetic mother, ever ready to shelter us from the cares and anxieties of this world, and to guide us in the paths of peace. To shut oneself up from mankind i°, in most cases, to lead a dull, as well as a selfish life. Our duty is to make ourselves useful, and thus life may be made most 1 The substance of this was delivered at the Harris Institute, Preston. �8 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE PART I interesting, while yet comparatively free if we have done our best to make others from anxiety. happy; to promote “ peace on earth and But how can we fill our lives with life, goodwill amongst men.” Nothing, again, energy, and interest, and yet keep care can do more to release us from the cares outside ? of this world, which consume so much of Many great men have made shipwreck our time, and embitter so much of our in the attempt. “ Anthony sought for life. When we have done our best, we happiness in love ; Brutus in glory; Cfesar should wait the result in peace ; content, in dominion : the first found disgrace, the as Epictetus says, “with that which second disgust, the last ingratitude, and happens, for what God chooses is better each destruction.” 1 Riches, again, often than what I choose.” bring danger, trouble, and temptation ■ At any rate, if we have not effected all they require care to keep, though they we wished, we shall have influenced our­ may give much happiness if wisely spent. selves. It may be true that one cannot How then is this great object to be do much. “You are not Hercules, and secured ? What, says Marcus Aurelius, you are not able to purge away the wicked­ “ What is that which is able to conduct ness of others ; nor yet are you Theseus, a man ? One thing and only one—philo­ able to drive away the evil things of sophy. But this consists in keeping the Attica. But you may clear away your daemon 2 within a man free from violence own. From yourself, from your own and unharmed, superior to pains and thoughts, cast away, instead of Procrustes pleasures, doing nothing without a pur­ and Sciron,1 sadness, fear, desire, envy, pose, yet not falsely and with hypocrisy, malevolence, avarice, effeminacy, intem­ not feeling the need of another man’s perance. But it is not possible to eject doing or not doing anything ; and besides, these things otherwise than by looking to accepting all that happens, and all that God only, by fixing your affections on is allotted, as coming from thence, where- Him only, by being consecrated by His ever it is, from whence he himself came ; commands.” 2 and, finally, waiting for death with a Duty does not imply restraint. People ’ cheerful mind, as being nothing else than sometimes think how delightful it would a dissolution of the elements of which be to be quite free. But a fish, as Ruskin every living being is compounded.” I con­ says, is freer than a man, and as for a fly, fess I do not feel the force of these last few it is “a black incarnation of freedom.” words, which indeed scarcely seem requisite A life of so-called pleasure and self-indul­ for his argument. The thought of death, gence is not a life of real happiness or however, certainly influences the conduct true freedom. Far from it, if we once of life less than might have been expected. begin to give way to ourselves, we fall Bacon truly points out that “there is under a most intolerable tyranny. Other no passion in the mind of man so weak, temptations are in some respects like that but it mates and masters the fear of of drink. At first, perhaps, it seems death. . . . Revenge triumphs over death, delightful, but there is bitterness at the love slights it, honour aspireth to it, grief bottom of the cup. Men drink to satisfy flieth to it.” the desire created by previous indulgence. So it is in other things. Repetition soon “Think not I dread to see my spirit fly Through the dark gates of fell mortality; becomes a craving, not a pleasure. Re­ Death has no terrors when the life is true ; sistance grows more and more painful; ’Tis living ill that makes us fear to die.” 3 yielding, which at first, perhaps, afforded We need certainly have no such fear some slight and temporary gratification, 1 Colton, Lacon, or Many Things in Few soon ceases to give pleasure, and even if JFotyZs. 2 J.e. spirit. I 3 Omar Khayyam. 1 Two robbers destroyed by Theseus. 2 Epictetus. �CHAP. II THE HAPPINESS OF DUTY 9 for a time it procures relief, ere long have of the Universe must in some measure damp personal ambition. What it is to be becomes odious itself. To resist is difficult, to give way is pain­ king, sheikh, tetrarch, or emperor over a ful ; until at length the wretched victim ‘ bit of a bit ’ of this little earth ? ” “ All to himself can only purchase, or thinks rising to great place,” says Bacon, “ is by he can only purchase, temporary relief from a winding stair; ” and “ princes are like intolerable craving and depression, at the heavenly bodies, which have much vener­ expense of even greater suffering in the ation, but no rest.” Plato in the Republic mentions an old future. On the other hand, self-control, how­ myth that after death every soul has to ever difficult at first, becomes step by step choose a lot in life for the existence in the easier and more delightful. We possess next world ; and he tells us that the wise mysteriously a sort of dual nature, and Ulysses searched for a considerable time there are few truer triumphs, or more for the lot of a private man. He had delightful sensations, than to obtain some difficulty in finding it, as it was lying neglected in a corner, but when he had thorough command of oneself. How much pleasanter it is to ride a secured it he was delighted ; the recollec­ spirited horse, even perhaps though requir­ tion of all he had gone through on earth ing some strength and skill, than to creep having disenchanted him of ambition. along upon a jaded hack. In the one Moreover, there is a great deal of case you feel under you the free, re­ drudgery in the lives of courts. Cere­ sponsive spring of a living and willing monials may be important, but they take force ; in the other you have to spur a up much time and are terribly tedious. dull and lifeless slave. A man then is his own best kingdom. To rule oneself is in reality the greatest “ He that ruleth his spirit,” says triumph. “ He who is his own monarch,” Solomon, “ is better than he that taketh says Sir T. Browne, “ contentedly sways a city.” But self-control, this truest and the sceptre of himself, not envying the greatest monarchy, rarely comes by in­ glory to crowned heads and Elohim of the heritance. Every one of us must conquer earth ; ” for those are really highest who himself; and we may do so, if we take are nearest to heaven, and those are low­ conscience for our guide and general. est who are farthest from it. No one really fails who does his best. True greatness has little, if anything, Seneca observes that “no one saith the to do with rank or power. “ Eurystheus three hundred Fabii were defeated, but being what he was,” says Epictetus, “ was that they were slain,” and if you have not really king of Argos nor of Mycenee, done your best, you will, in the words of for he could not even rule himself ; while an old Norse ballad, have gained Hercules purged lawlessness and intro­ “ Success in thyself, which is best of all.” duced justice, though he was both naked and alone.” Being myself engaged in business, I was We are told that Cineas the philosopher rather startled to find it laid down by no once asked Pyrrhus what he would do less an authority than Aristotle (almost as when he had conquered Italy. “ I will if it were a self-evident proposition) that conquer Sicily.” “And after Sicily?” commerce “ is incompatible with that “ Then Africa.” “ And after you have dignified life which it is to be wished that conquered the world ? ” “I will take my our citizens should lead, and totally ad­ ease and be merry.” “ Then,” asked verse to that generous elevation of mind Cineas, “ why can you not take your ease with which it is our ambition to inspire and be merry now ? ” them.” I know not how far that may Moreover, as Sir Arthur Helps has really have been the spirit and tendency wisely pointed out, “ the enlarged view we of commerce among the ancient Greeks; �IO THE PLEASURES OF LIFE but if so, I do not wonder that it was not more successful. I may, indeed, quote Aristotle against himself, for he has elsewhere told us that “business should be chosen for the sake of leisure ; and things necessary and useful for the sake of the beautiful in conduct.” It is not true that the ordinary duties of life in a country like ours—agriculture, manufactures, and commerce,—the pur­ suits to which the vast majority are and must be devoted—are incompatible with the dignity or nobility of life. Whether a life is noble or ignoble depends, not on the calling which is adopted, but on the spirit in which it is followed. The humblest life may be noble, while that of the most powerful monarch or the greatest genius may be contemptible. Commerce, indeed, is not only compatible, but I would almost go further and say that it will be most successful, if carried on in happy union with noble aims and generous aspirations. What Ruskin says of art is, with due modification, true of life gener­ ally. It does not matter whether a man “ paint the petal of a rose or the chasms of a precipice, so that love and admiration attend on him as he labours, and wait for ever on his work. It does not matter whether he toil for months on a few inches of his canvas, or cover a palace front with colour in a day ; so only that it be with a solemn purpose, that he have filled his heart with patience, or urged his hand to haste.’’ It is true that in a subsequent volume he refers to this passage, and adds, “ But though all is good for study, and all is beautiful, some is better than the rest for the help and pleasure of others ; and this it is our duty always to choose if we have opportunity,” adding, however, “ being quite happy with what is within our reach if we have not.” We read of and admire the heroes of old, but every one of us has to fight his ow’n Marathon and ThermopyIse ; every one meets the Sphinx sitting by the road he has to pass ; to each of us, as to Hercules, is offered the choice of Vice or PART I Virtue; we may, like Paris, give the apple of life to Venus, or Juno, or Minerva. There are many who seem to think that we have fallen on an age in the world when life is especially difficult and anxious, when there is less leisure than of yore, and the struggle for existence is keener than ever. On the other hand, we must remember how much we have gained in security? It may be an age of hard work, but -when this is not carried to an extreme, it is by no means an evil. If we have less leisure, one reason is because life is so full of interest. Cheerfulness is the daughter of employment, and on the whole I believe there never was a time when modest merit and patient industry were more sure of reward. We must not, indeed, be discouraged if success be slow in coming, nor puffed up if it comes quickly. We often complain of the nature of things when the fault is all in ourselves. Seneca, in one of his letters, mentions that his wife’s maid, Harpaste, had nearly lost her eyesight, but “ she knoweth not she is blind, she saith the house is dark. This that seemeth ridiculous unto us in her, happeneth unto us all. No man understandeth that he is covetous, or avaricious. He saith, I am not ambitious, but no man can otherwise live in Rome ; I am not sumptuous, but the city requireth great expense.” Newman, in perhaps the most beautiful of his hymns, “ Lead, kindly light,” says : “ Keep thou my feet, I do not ask to see The distant scene ; one step enough for me. ” But we must be sure that we are really following some trustworthy guide, and not out of mere laziness allowing ourselves to drift. We have a guide within us which will generally lead us straight enough. Religion, no doubt, is full of difficulties, but if we are often puzzled what to think, we need seldom be in doubt what to do. “ To say well is good, but to do well is better ; Do well is the spirit, and say well the letter ; If do well and say well were fitted in one frame, All were won, all were done, and. got were all the gain.” �THE HAPPINESS OF DUTY CHAP. II il Cleanthes, who appears to have well every fourth. But if you have inter­ merited the statue erected to him at mitted thirty days, make a sacrifice to God. For the habit at first begins to be Assos, says : weakened, and then is completely de­ “ Lead me, 0 Zeus, and thou, 0 Destiny, stroyed. When you can say, ‘ I have not The way that I am bid by you to go : To follow I am ready. If I choose not, been vexed to-day, nor the .day before, nor I make myself a wretch ;—and still must yet on any succeeding day during two or follow.” three months ; but I took care when some If we are ever in doubt what to do, it exciting things happened,’ be assured that is a good rule to ask ourselves what we you are in a good way.” 1 Emerson closes his Conduct of Life shall wish on the morrow that we had with a striking allegory. The young done. Moreover, the result in the long run Mortal enters the Hall of the Firmament. will depend not so much on some single The Gods are sitting there, and he is resolution, or on our action in a special alone with them. They pour on him case, but rather on the preparation of gifts and blessings, and beckon him to daily life. Battles are often won before their thrones. But between him and they are fought. To control our passions them suddenly appear snow-storms of we must govern our habits, and keep illusions. He imagines himself in a vast watch over ourselves in the small details crowd, whose behests he fancies he must obey. The mad crowd drives hither and of everyday life. The importance of small things has thither, and sways this way and that. been pointed out by philosophers over What is he that he should resist ? He and over again from jEsop downwards. lets himself be«carried about. How can “ Great without small makes a bad wall,” he think or act for himself? But the says a quaint Greek proverb, which seems clouds lift, and there are the Gods still to go back to cyclopean times. In an old sitting on their thrones ; they alone with Hindoo story Ammi says to his son, him alone. “ The great man,” he elsewhere says, “ Bring me a fruit of that tree and break it open. What is there ? ” The son said, “is he who in the midst of the crowd “ Some small seeds.” “ Break one of keeps with perfect sweetness the serenity them and what do you see ? ” “ Nothing, of solitude.” We may all, indeed, if we will, secure my lord.” “ My child,” said Ammi, “where you see nothing there dwells a peace of mind for ourselves. “ Men seek retreats,” says Marcus Au­ mighty tree.” It may almost be questioned whether anything can be truly called relius, “ houses in the country, sea-shores, and mountains ; and thou too art wont small. to desire such things very much. But “ There is no great and no small this is altogether a mark of the most To the soul that maketh all ; common sort of men ; for it is in thv And where it cometh all things are, And it cometh everywhere.” 1 power whenever thou shalt choose, to We should therefore watch ourselves in retire into thyself. For nowhere either small things. If “ you wish not to be of with more quiet or more freedom from an angry temper, do not feed the habit: trouble does a man retire, than into his throw nothing on it which will increase own soul, particularly when he has within it: at first keep quiet, and count the days him such thoughts that by looking into on which you have not been angry. I them he is immediately in perfect tran­ used to be in a passion every day ; now quillity.” Happy indeed is he who has such a every second day ; then every third ; then sanctuary in his own soul. “He who is 1 Emerson. 1 Epictetus. �12 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE virtuous is wise ; and he who is wise is good ; and he who is good is happy.” 1 But we cannot expect to be happy if we do not lead pure and useful lives. To be good company for ourselves we must store our minds well ; fill them with pure and peaceful thoughts ; with pleasant memories of the past, and reasonable hopes for the future. We must, as far as may be, protect ourselves from selfreproach, from care, and from anxiety. We shall make our lives pure and peaceful, by resisting evil, by placing restraint upon our appetites, and perhaps even more by strengthening and developing our tend­ encies to good. We must be careful, then, on what we allow our minds to dwell. The soul is dyed by its thoughts; we cannot keep our minds pure if we allow them to be sullied by detailed accounts of crime and sin. Peace of mind, as Ruskin beautifully observes, “ must come in its own time, as the waters settle themselves into clearness as well as quiet­ ness ; you can no more filter your mind into purity than you can compress it into calmness ; you must keep it pure if you would have it pure, and throw no stones into it if you would have it quiet.” The penalty of injustice, said Socrates, is not death or stripes, but the fatal neces­ sity of becoming more and more unjust. Few men have led a wiser or more virtuous life than Socrates himself, of whom Xenophon gives us the following description :—“ To me, being such as I have described him, so pious that he did nothing without the sanction of the gods; so just, that he wronged no man even in the most trifling affair, but was of service in the most important matters to those who enjoyed his society ; so temperate that he never preferred pleasure to virtue; so wise, that he never erred in distinguish­ ing better from worse ; needing no counsel from others, but being sufficient in himself to discriminate between them ; so able to explain and settle such questions by argu­ ment ; and so capable of discerning the character of others, of confuting those 1 King Alfred’s Boethius. PART I who were in error, and of exhorting them to virtue and honour, he seemed to be such as the best and happiest of men would be. But if any one disapproves of my opinion let him compare the con­ duct of others with that of Socrates, and determine accordingly.” Marcus Aurelius again has drawn for us a most instructive lesson in his character of Antoninus:—“Remember his constancy in every act which was conformable to reason, his evenness in all things, his piety, the serenity of his countenance, his sweetness, his disregard of empty fame, and his efforts to understand things ; how he would never let anything pass without having first most carefully ex­ amined it and clearly understood it ; how he bore with those who blamed him unjustly without blaming them in return; how he did nothing in a hurry; how he listened not to calumnies, and how exact an examiner of manners and actions he was ; not given to reproach people, nor timid, nor suspicious, nor a sophist; with how little he was satisfied, such as lodging, bed, dress, food, servants ; how laborious and patient ; how sparing he was in his diet; his firmness and uniformity in his friendships ; how he tolerated freedom of speech in those who opposed his opinions; the pleasure that he had when any man showed him anything better ; and how pious he was without superstition. Imi­ tate all this that thou mayest have as good a conscience, when thy last hour comes, as he had.” Such peace of mind is indeed an in­ estimable boon, a rich reward of duty fulfilled. Well then does Epictetus ask, “Is there no reward? Do you seek a reward greater than that of doing what is good and just ? At Olympia you wish for nothing more, but it seems to you enough to be crowned at the games. Does it then seem to you so small and worthless a thing to be good and happy?” In Bernard of Morlaix’s beautiful lines — “ Pax erit ilia fidelibus, ilia beata Irrevocabilis, Invariabilis, Intemerata. �A SONG OF BOOKS CHAP. Ill . 13 Pax sine crimine, pax sine turbine, pax sine himself to-be a zealous follower of truth, rixa, of happiness, of wisdom, of science, or Meta Laboribus, inque tumultibus anchora even of the faith, must of necessity make fixa ; Pax erit omnibus unica. Sed quibus ? Im- himself a lover of books.” But if the maculatis debt were great then, how much more Pectore niitibus, ordine stantibus, ore sacratis.” now. What greater reward can we have than this ; than the “peace which passeth all understanding,” which “ cannot be gotten for gold, neither shall silver be weighed for the price thereof.” 1 CHAPTER III A SONG OF BOOKS2 “ Oil for a booke and a sliadie nooke, Eyther in doore or out; With the grene leaves whispering overhead Or the streete cryes all about. Where I maie reade all at my ease, Both of the newe and old ; For a jollie goode booke whereon to looke, Is better to me than golde.” Old English Song. Of all the privileges we enjoy in this nineteenth century there is none, perhaps, for which we ought to be more thankful than for the easier access to books. The debt we owe to books -was well expressed by Richard de Bury, Bishop of Durham, author of Philobiblon, written as long ago as 1344, published in 1473, and the earliest English treatise on the delights of literature :—“ These,” he says, “ are the masters who instruct us without rods and ferules, without hard words and anger, without clothes or money. If you approach them, they are not asleep; if investigating you interrogate them, they conceal nothing ; if you mistake them, they never grumble ; if you are ignorant, they cannot laugh at you. The library, therefore, of wisdom is more precious than all riches, and nothing that can be wished for is worthy to be compared with it. Whosoever therefore acknowledges 1 Job. 2 Delivered at the Working Men’s College. This feeling that books are real friends is constantly present to all who love read­ ing. “ I have friends,” said Petrarch, “ whose society is extremely agreeable to me ; they are of all ages, and of every country. They have distinguished them­ selves both in the cabinet and in the field, and obtained high honours for their knowledge of the sciences. It is easy to gain access to them, for they are always at my service, and I admit them to my company, and dismiss them from it, whenever I please. They are never troublesome, but immediately answer every question I ask them. Some relate to me the events of past ages, while others reveal to me the secrets of Nature. Some teach me how to live, and others how to die. Some, by their vivacity, drive away my cares and exhilarate my spirits ; while others give fortitude to my mind, and teach me the important lesson how to restrain my desires, and to depend wholly on myself. They open to me, in short, the various avenues of all the arts and sciences, and upon their information I may safely rely in all emergencies. In return for all their services, they only ask me to accommodate them with a con­ venient chamber in some corner of my humble habitation, where they may repose in peace; for these friends are more delighted by the tranquillity of retirement than with the tumults of society.” “ He that loveth a book,” says Isaac Barrow, “ will never want a faithful friend, a wholesome counsellor, a cheer­ ful companion, an effectual comforter. By study, by reading, by thinking, one may innocently divert and pleasantly entertain himself, as in all weathers, so in all fortunes.” Southey took a rather more melancholy view : �THE PLEASURES OF LIFE “My days among the dead are pass’d, Around me I_beliold, Where’er these casual eyes are cast, The mighty minds of old; My never-failing friends are they, With whom I converse day by day.” Imagine, in the words of Aikin, “ that we had it in our power to call up the shades of the greatest and wisest men that ever existed, and oblige them to con­ verse with us on the most interesting topics—what an inestimable privilege should we think it !—how superior to all common enjoyments! But in a wellfurnished library we, in fact, possess this power. We can question Xenophon and Csesar on their campaigns, make Demos­ thenes and Cicero plead before us, join in the audiences of Socrates and Plato, and receive demonstrations from Euclid and Newton. In books we have the choicest thoughts of the ablest men in their best dress.” “Books,” says Jeremy Collier, “are a guide in youth and an entertainment for age. They support us under solitude, and keep us from being a burthen to ourselves. They help us to forget the crossness of men and things ; compose our cares and our passions ; and lay our disappointments asleep. When we are weary of the living, we may repair to the dead, who have nothing of peevish­ ness, pride, or design in their conversa­ tion.” Sir John Herschel tells an amusing anecdote illustrating the pleasure derived from a book, not assuredly of the first order. In a certain village the black­ smith having got hold of Richardson’s novel, Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded, used to sit on his anvil in the long summer evenings and read it aloud to a large and attentive audience. It is by no means a short book, but they fairly listened to it alL At length, when the happy turn of fortune arrived, which brings the hero and heroine together, and sets them living long and happily together according to the most approved rules, the congregation were so delighted as to raise a great shout, PART I and procuring the church keys, actually set the parish bells a-ringing. “The lover of reading,” says Leigh Hunt, “will derive agreeable terror from Sir Bertram and the Haunted Chamber; will assent with delighted reason to every sentence in Mrs. Barbauld’s Essay; will feel himself wandering into solitudes with Gray; shake honest hands with Sir Roger de Coverley; be ready to embrace Parson Adams, and to chuck Pounce out of the window instead of the hat ; will travel with Marco Polo and Mungo Parle; stay at home with Thomson; retire with Cowley; be industrious with Hutton; sympathising with Gay and Mrs. Inch­ bald; laughing with (and at) Buncle; melancholy, and forlorn, and self-restored with the shipwrecked mariner of De Foe.” Carlyle has wisely said that a collection of books is a real university. The importance of books has been appreciated in many quarters where we might least expect it. Among the hardy Norsemen runes were supposed to be endowed with miraculous power. There is an Arabic proverb, that “a wise man’s day is worth a fool’s life,” and another— though it reflects, perhaps, rather the spirit of the Califs than of the Sultans,— that “ the ink of science is more precious than the blood of the martyrs.” Confucius is said to have described himself as a man who “ in his eager pur­ suit of knowledge forgot his food, who in the joy of its attainment forgot his sorrows, and did not even perceive that old age was coming on.” Yet, if this could be said by the Arabs and the Chinese, what language can be strong enough to express the gratitude we ought to feel for the advantages we enjoy ! We do not appreciate, I think, our good fortune in belonging to the nineteenth century. Sometimes, indeed, one may even be inclined to wish that one had not lived quite so soon, and to long for a glimpse of the books, even the school­ books, of one hundred years hence. A hundred years ago not only were books extremely expensive and cumbrous, but �CHAP .III A SONG OF BOOKS many of the most delightful were still uncreated—such as the works of Scott, Thackeray, Dickens, Shelley, and Byron, not to mention living authors. How much more interesting science has become especially, if I were to mention only one name, through the genius of Darwin! Renan has characterised this as a most amusing century; I should rather have described it as most interesting : present­ ing us as it does with an endless vista of absorbing problems ; with infinite oppor­ tunities ; with more interest and less danger than surrounded our less fortunate ancestors. Cicero described a room without books, as a body without a soul. But it is by no means necessary to be a philosopher to love reading. Reading, indeed, is by no means neces­ sarily study. Far from it. “ I put,” says Mr. Frederic Harrison, in his excellent article on the “ Choice of Books,” “ I put the poetic and emotional side of literature as the most needed for daily use.” In the prologue to the Legende of Goode Women, Chaucer says : “ And as for me, though that I konne but lyte, On bokes for to rede I me delyte, And to him give I feyth and ful credence, And in myn herte have him in reverence, So hertely, that tlier is game noon, That fro my bokes maketh me to goon, But yt be seidome on the holy day, Save, certynly, when that the monthe of May Is comen, and that I here the foules synge, And that the floures gynnen for to sprynge, Farwel my boke and my devocion.” But I doubt whether, if he had enjoyed our advantages, he could have been so certain of tearing himself away, even in the month of May. Macaulay, who had all that wealth and fame, rank and talents could give, yet, we are told, derived his greatest happiness from books. Sir G. Trevelyan, in his charming biography, says that—“of the feelings which Macaulay entertained to­ wards the great minds of bygone ages it is not for any one except himself to speak. He has told us how his debt to them was IS incalculable; how they guided him to truth; how they filled his mind with noble and graceful images ; how they stood by him in all vicissitudes—comforters in sorrow, nurses in sickness, companions in solitude, the old friends who are never seen with new faces ; who are the same in wealth and in poverty, in glory and in obscurity. Great as were the honours and possessions which Macaulay acquired by his pen, all who knew him were well aware that the titles and rewards which he gained by his own works were as nothing in the balance compared with the pleasure he derived from the works of others.” There was no society in London so agree­ able that Macaulay would have preferred it at breakfast or at dinner “ to the com­ pany of Sterne or Fielding, Horace Wal­ pole or Boswell.” The love of reading which Gibbon declared he would not ex­ change for all the treasures of India was, in fact, with Macaulay “ a main element of happiness in one of the happiest lives that it has ever fallen to the lot of the bio­ grapher to record.” “History,” says Fuller, “maketh a young man to be old without either wrinkles or gray hair, privileging him with the experience of age without either the infirmities or the inconveniences thereof.” So delightful indeed are books that we must be careful not to forget other duties for them; in cultivating the mind we must not neglect the body. To the lover of literature or science, exercise often presents itself as an irksome duty, and many a one has felt like “ the fair pupil of Ascham (Lady Jane Grey), who, while the horns were sounding and dogs in full cry, sat in the lonely oriel, with eyes riveted to that immortal page which tells how meekly and bravely (Socrates) the first martyr of intellectual liberty took the cup from his weeping jailer.” 1 Still, as the late Lord Derby justly ob­ served,2 those who do not find time for 1 Macaulay. 2 Address, Liverpool College, 1873. �i6 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE exercise will have to find time for ill­ ness. Books, again, are now so cheap as to be within the reach of almost every one. This was not always so. It is quite a recent blessing. Mr. Ireland, to whose charming little Book Lover's Enchiridion, in common with every lover of reading, I am greatly indebted, tells us that when a boy he was so delighted with White’s Natural History of Selborne, that in order to possess a copy of his own he actually copied out the whole work. Mary Lamb gives a pathetic description of a studious boy lingering at a bookstall : “ I saw a boy with eager eye Open a book upon a stall, And read, as he’d devour it all; Which, when the*stall man did espy, Soon to the boy I heard him call, ‘ You, sir, you never buy a book, Therefore in one you shall not look.’ The boy passed slowly on, and with a sigh He wished he never had been taught to read, Then of the old churl’s books he should have had no need.” Such snatches of literature have, indeed, a special and peculiar charm. This is, I believe, partly due to the very fact of their being brief. Many readers miss much of the pleasure of reading by forceing themselves to dwell too long con­ tinuously on one subject. In a long railway journey, for instance, many persons take only a single book. The consequence is that, unless it is a story, after half an hour or an hour they are quite tired of it. Whereas, if they had two, or still better three books, on different subjects, and one of them of an amusing character, they would probably find that, by changing as soon as they felt at all weary, they would come back again and again to each with renewed zest, and hour after hour would pass pleasantly away. Every one, of course, must judge for himself, but such at least is my experience. I quite agree, therefore, with Lord Iddesleigh as to the charm of desultory reading, but the wider the field the more important that we should benefit by the very best books in each class. Not that we PART I need confine ourselves to them, but that we should commence with them, and they will certainly lead us on to others. There are of course some books which we must read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest. But these are exceptions. As regards by far the larger number, it is probably better to read them quickly, dwelling only on the best and most important passages. In this way, no doubt, we shall lose much, but we gain more by ranging over a wider field. We may, in fact, I think, apply to reading Lord Brougham’s wise dictum as regards education, and say that it is well to read everything of something, and something of everything. In this way only we can ascertain the bent of our own tastes, for it is a general, though not of course an invariable, rule, that we profit little by books which we do not enjoy. Every one, however, may suit himself. The variety is endless. Not only does a library contain “in­ finite riches in a little room,” 1 but we may sit at home and yet be in all quarters of the earth. We may travel round the world with Captain Cook or Darwin, with Kingsley or Ruskin, who will show us much more perhaps than ever we should see for ourselves. The world itself has no limits for us ; Humboldt and Herschel will carry us far away to the mysterious nebulas, beyond the sun and even the stars : time has no more bounds than space; history stretches out behind us, and geology will carry us back for millions of years before the creation of man, even to the origin of the material Universe itself. Nor are we limited to one plane of thought. Aristotle and Plato will transport us into a sphere none the less delightful because we cannot appreciate it without some training. Comfort and consolation, peace and happiness, may indeed be found in his library by any one “ who shall bring the golden key that unlocks its silent door.” 2 A library is true fairyland, a very palace of delight, a haven of repose from the storms and troubles of the world. Rich 1 Marlowe. 2 Matthews. �THE CHOICE OF BOOKS CHAP. IV and poor can enjoy it alike, for here, at least, wealth gives no advantage. We may make a library, if we do but rightly use it, a true paradise on earth, a garden of Eden without its one drawback ; for all is open to us, including, and especially, the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, for which we are told that our first mother sacrificed all the Pleasures of Paradise. Here we may read the most important histories, the most exciting volumes of travels and adventures, the most interest­ ing stories, the most beautiful poems ; we may meet the most eminent statesmen, poets, and philosophers, benefit by the ideas of the greatest thinkers, and enjoy the grandest creations of human genius. CHAPTER IV THE CHOICE OF BOOKS 1 “ All round the room my silent servants wait— My friends in every season, bright and dim, Angels and Seraphim Come down and murmur to me, sweet and low, And spirits of the skies all come and go Early and Late.” Proctor. And yet too often they wait in vain. One reason for this is, I think, that people are overwhelmed by the crowd of books offered to them. In old days books were rare and dear. Now on the contrary, it may be said with greater truth than ever that “Words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.”2 Our ancestors had great difficulty in pro­ curing books. Ours now is what to select. We must be careful what we read, and not, like the sailors of Ulysses, take bags of wind for sacks of treasure—not only lest we should even now fall into the error of the Greeks, and suppose that 1 Delivered at the London Working Men’s College. 2 Byron. c 17 language and definitions can be instru­ ments of investigation as well as of thought, but lest, as too often happens, we should waste time over trash. There are many books to which one may apply, in the sarcastic sense, the ambiguous remark which Lord Beaconsfield made to an unfortunate author, “ I will lose no time in reading your book.” There are, indeed, books and books ; and there are books which, as Lamb said, are not books at all. It is wonderful how much innocent happiness we thought­ lessly throw away. An Eastern proverb says that calamities sent by heaven may be avoided, but from those we bring on ourselves there is no escape. Many, I believe, are deterred from attempting what are called stiff books for fear they should not understand them ; but there are few* who need complain of the narrowness of their minds, if only they would do their best with them. In reading, however, it is most im­ portant to select subjects in which one is interested. I remember years ago con­ sulting Mr. Darwin as to the selection of a course of study. He asked me what interested me most, and advised me to choose that subject. This, indeed, applies to the work of life generally. I am sometimes disposed to think that the great readers of the next generation will be, not our lawyers and doctors, shopkeepers and manufacturers, but the labourers and mechanics. Does not this seem natural1? The former work mainly with their head ; when their daily duties are over, the brain is often exhausted, and of their leisure time much must be de­ voted to air and exercise. The labourer and mechanic, on the contrary, besides working often for much shorter hours, have in their work-time taken sufficient bodily exercise, and could therefore give any leisure they might have to reading and study. They have not done so as yet, it is true ; but this has been for obvious reasons. Now, however, in the first place, they receive an excellent edu­ cation in elementary schools, and in the �i8 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE second have more easy access to the best books. Ruskin has observed that he is not sur­ prised at what men suffer, but he often wonders at what they lose. We suffer much, no doubt, from the faults of others, but we lose much more by our own ignorance. “ If,” says Sir John Herschel, “ I were to pray for a taste which should stand me in stead under every variety of cir­ cumstances, and be a source of happiness and cheerfulness to me through life, and a shield against its ills, however things might go amiss and the world frown upon me, it would be a taste for reading. I speak of it of course only as a worldly advantage, and not in the slightest degree as superseding or derogating from the higher office and surer and stronger panoply of religious principles—but as a taste, an instrument, and a mode of pleasurable gratification. Give a man this taste, and the means of gratifying it, and you can hardly fail of making a happy man, unless, indeed, you put into his hands a most perverse selection of books.” It is one thing to own a library ; it is quite another to use it wisely. I have often been astonished how little care people devote to the selection of ■what they read. Books, we know, are almost innumerable ; our hours for reading are, alas ! very few. And yet many people read almost by hazard. They will take any book they chance to find in a room at a friend’s house ; they will buy a novel at a railway-stall if it has an attractive title ; indeed, I believe in some cases even the binding affects their choice. The selection is, no doubt, far from easy. I have often wished some one would re­ commend a list of a hundred good books. If we had such lists drawn up by a few good guides they would be most useful. I have indeed sometimes heard it said that in reading every one must choose for himself, but this reminds me of the re­ commendation not to go into the water till you can swim. PART I In the absence of such lists I have picked out the books most frequently mentioned with approval by those who have referred directly or indirectly to the pleasure of reading, and have ventured to include some which, though less frequently mentioned, are especial favourites of my own. Every one who looks at the list will wish to suggest other books, as indeed I should myself, but in that case the number would soon run up.1 I have abstained, for obvious reasons, from mentioning works by living authors, though from many of them I have myself derived the keenest enjoyment; and I have omitted works on science, with one or two exceptions, because the subject is so progressive. I feel that the attempt is over bold, and I must beg for indulgence, while hoping for criticism ; indeed one object which I have had in view is to stimu­ late others more competent than I am to give us the advantage of their opinions. Moreover, I must repeat that I suggest these works rather as those which, as far as I have seen, have been most frequently recommended, than as suggestions of my own, though I have slipped in a few of my own special favourites. In any such selection much weight should, I think, be attached to the general verdict of mankind. There is a “ struggle for existence ” and a “ survival of the fittest” among books, as well as among animals and plants. As Alonzo of Aragon said, “Age is a recommendation in four things—old wood to burn, old wine to drink, old friends to trust, and old books to read.” Still, this cannot be accepted without important qualifications. The most recent books of history and science contain, or ought to contain, the most accurate information and the most trust­ worthy conclusions. Moreover, while the 1 Several longer lists have been given ; for instance, by Comte, Catechism of Positive Philo­ sophy ; Pycroft, Course of English Pleading; Baldwin, The, Book Lover; Perkins, The Best Reading ; and by Ireland, Books for General Readers. �CHAP. IV THE CHOICE OF BOOKS books of other races and times have an interest from their very distance, it must be admitted that many will still more enjoy, and feel more at home with, those of our own century and people. Yet the oldest books of the world are remarkable and interesting on account of their very age; and the works which have influenced the opinions, or charmed the leisure hours, of millions of men in distant times and far-away regions are well worth reading on that very account, even if to us they seem scarcely to deserve their reputation. It is true that to many, such works are accessible only in translations ; but translations, though they can never perhaps do justice to the original, may yet be admirable in them­ selves. The Bible itself, which must stand first in the list, is a conclusive case. At the head of all non- Christian moralists, I must place the Enchiridion of Epictetus and the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius, certainly two of the noblest books in the whole of literature ; and which, moreover, have both been admir­ ably translated. The Analects of Con­ fucius will, I believe, prove disappointing to most English readers, but the effect it has produced on the most numerous race of men constitutes in itself a peculiar interest. The Ethics of Aristotle, per­ haps, appear to some disadvantage from the very fact that they have so profoundly influenced our views of morality. The Koran, like the Analects of Confucius, will to most of us derive its principal interest from the effect it has exercised, and still exercises, on so many millions of our fellow-men. I doubt whether in any other respect it will seem to repay per­ usal, and to most persons probably certain extracts, not too numerous, would appear sufficient. The writings of the Apostolic Fathers have been collected in one volume by Wake. It is but a small one, and though I must humbly confess that I vas dis­ appointed, they are perhaps all the more curious from the contrast they afford to 19 those of the Apostles themselves. Of the later Fathers I have included only the Confessions of St. Augustine, which Dr. Pusey selected for the commencement of the Library of the Fathers, and which, as he observes, has “ been translated again and again into almost every European language, and in all loved ; ” though Luther was of opinion that St. Augustine “ wrote nothing to the purpose concerning faith.” But then Luther was no great admirer of the Fathers. St. Jerome, he says, “ writes, alas ! very coldly ; ” Chrys­ ostom “ digresses from the chief points ; ” St. Jerome is “very poor;” and in fact, he says, “ the more I read the. books of the Fathers the more I find myself offended ; ” while Renan, in his interesting auto­ biography, compared theology to a Gothic Cathedral, “ elle a la grandeur, les vides immenses, et le peu de solidite.” Among other devotional works most frequently recommended are Thomas a Kempis’s Imitation of Christ, Pascal’s Pensees, Spinoza’s Tractatus TheologicoPoliticus, Butler’s Analogy of Religion, Jeremy Taylor’s Holy Living and Dying, Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, and last, not least, Keble’s beautiful Christian Year. Aristotle and Plato stand at the head of another class. The Politics of Aristotle, and Plato’s Dialogues, if not the whole, at any rate the Phcedo, the Apology, and the Republic, will be of course read by all who wish to know anything of the history of human thought, though I am heretical enough to doubt whether the latter repays the minute and laborious study often devoted to it. Aristotle being the father, if not the creator, of the modern scientific method, it has followed naturally—indeed, almost inevitably—that his principles have be­ come part of our very intellectual being, so that they seem now almost self-evident while his actual observations, though very remarkable—as, for instance, when he observes that bees on one journey confine themselves to one kind of flower—still have been in many cases superseded by others, carried on under more favourable �20 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE conditions. We must not be ungrateful to the great master, because his own lessons have taught us how to advance. Plato, on the other hand, I say so with all respect, seems to me in some cases to play on words : his arguments are very able, very philosophical, often very noble ; but not always conclusive ; in a language differently constructed they might some­ times tell in exactly the opposite sense. If his method has proved less fruitful, if in metaphysics we have made but little advance, that very fact in one point of view leaves the Dialogues of Socrates as instructive now as ever they were; while the problems with which they deal will always rouse our interest, as the calm and lofty spirit which inspires them must command our admiration. Of the Apology and the Phcedo especially it would be impossible to speak too grate­ fully. I would also mention Demosthenes’s De Corona, which Lord Brougham pro­ nounced the greatest oration of the greatest of orators ; Lucretius, Plutarch’s Lives, Horace, and at least the De Officiis, De Amicitia, and De Senectute of Cicero. The great epics of the world have always constituted one of the most popu­ lar branches of literature. Yet how few, comparatively, ever read Homer or Virgil after leaving school. The Nibelungenlied, our great AngloSaxon epic, is perhaps too much neglected, no doubt on account of its painful char­ acter. Brunhild and Kriemhild, indeed, are far from perfect, but we meet with few such “ live ” women in Greek or Roman literature. Nor must I omit to mention Sir T. Malory’s Morte d’A rthur, though I confess I do so mainly in deference to the judgment of others. Among the Greek tragedians I include zEschylus, if not all his works, at any rate Prometheus, perhaps the sublimest poem in Greek literature, and the Trilogy (Mr. Symonds in his Greek Poets speaks of the “ unrivalled majesty ” of the Agamemnon, and Mark Pattison considered it “the grandest work of creative genius in the PART I whole range of literature”); or, as Sir M. E. Grant Duff recommends, the Persce; Sophocles (CEdipus Tyrannus), Euripides (Medea), and Aristophanes (The Knights and Clouds') ; unfortunately, as Schlegel says, probably even the greatest scholar does not understand half his jokes ; and I think most modern readers will prefer our own poets. I should like, moreover, to say a word for Eastern poetry, such as portions of the Maha Bharata and Ramayana (too long probably to be read through, but of which Taiboys Wheeler has given a most interest­ ing epitome in the first two volumes of his History of India); the Shali-nameh, the work of the great Persian poet Firdusi; Kalidasa’s Sakuntala, and the Sheking, the classical collection of ancient Chinese odes. Many I know, will think I ought to have included Omar Khayyam. In history we are beginning to feel that the vices and vicissitudes of kings and queens, the dates of battles and wars, are far less important than the development of human thought, the progress of art, of science, and of law, and the subject is on that very account even more interesting than ever. I will, however, only mention, and that rather from a literary than a his­ torical point of view, Herodotus, Xenophon (the Anabasis), Thucydides, and Tacitus (Germania); and of modern historians, Gibbon’s Decline and Fall (“ the splendid bridge from the old world to the new ”), Hume’s History of England, Carlyle’s French Revolution, Grote’s History of Greece, and Green’s Short History of the English People. Science is so rapidly progressive that, though to many minds it is the most fruitful and interesting subject of all, I cannot here rest on that agreement which, rather than my own opinion, I take as the basis of my list. I will therefore only mention Bacon’s Novum Organum, Mill’s Logic, and Darwin’s Origin of Species; in Political Economy, which some of our rulers do not now sufficiently value, Mill, and parts of Smith’s Wealth of Nations, for probably those who do not intend to �CHAP. IV THE CHOICE OF BOOKS make a special study of political economy would scarcely read the whole. Among voyages and travels, perhaps those most frequently suggested are Cook’s Voyages, Humboldt’s Travels, and Darwin’s Naturalist’s Journal; though I confess I should like to have added many more. Mr. Bright not long ago specially re­ commended the less known American poets, but he probably assumed that every one would have read Shakespeare, Milton (Paradise Lost, Lycidas, Comus and minor poems), Chaucer, Dante, Spenser, Dryden, Scott, Wordsworth, Pope, Byron, and others, before embarking on more doubtful adventures. Among other books most frequently re­ commended are Goldsmith’s Vicar of Wakefield, Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels, Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe, The Arabian Nights, Don Quixote, Boswell’s Life of Johnson, White’s Natural History of Selborne, Burke’s Select Works (Payne), the Essays of Bacon, Addison, Hume, Montaigne, Macaulay, and Emerson, Carlyle’s Past and Present, Smiles’s Self-Help, and Goethe’s Faust and Autobiography. Nor can one go wrong in recommending Berkeley’s Human Knowledge, Descartes’s Discours sur la Methode, Locke’s Conduct of the Understanding Lewes’s History of Philosophy ; while, in order to keep within the number one hundred, I can only mention Moliere ,and Sheridan among dramatists. Macaulay considered Mari­ vaux’s La Vice de Marianne the best novel in any language, but my number is so nearly complete that I must content my­ self with English: and will suggest Thackeray (Vanity Fair and Pendennis'), Dickens (Pickwick and David Copperfield), G. Eliot (Adam Bede or The Mill on the Floss), Kingsley (Westward Ho!), Lytton (Last Days of Pompeii), and last, not least, those of Scott, which indeed constitute a library in themselves, but which I must ask, in return for my trouble, to be allowed, as a special favour, to count as one. To any lover of books the very mention of these names brings back a crowd of de­ licious memories, grateful recollections of 21 peaceful home hours, after the labours and anxieties of the day. How thankful we ought to be for these inestimable blessings, for this numberless host of friends who never weary, betray, or forsake us ! LIST OF 100 BOOKS Works by Living Authors are omitted The Bible The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius Epictetus Aristotle’s Ethics Analects of Confucius St. Hilaire’s “Le Bouddha et sa religion” Wake’s Apostolic Fathers Thos. a Kempis’s Imitation of Christ Confessions of St. Augustine (Dr. Pusey) The Koran (portions of) Spinoza’s Tractatus Theologico-Politicus Pascal’s Pensees Butler’s Analogy of Religion Taylor’s Holy Living and Dying Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress Keble’s Christian Year Plato’s Dialogues ; at any rate, the Apology, Crito, and Pheedo Xenophon’s Memorabilia Aristotle’s Politics Demosthenes’s De Corona Cicero’s De Officiis, De Amicitia, and De Senectute Plutarch’s Lives Berkeley’s Human Knowledge Descartes’s Discours sur la Methode Locke s On the Conduct of the Understanding Homer Hesiod Virgil Maha Bliarata Ramayana Epitomised in Taiboys Wheeler’s History of India, vols. i. and ii. The Shahnameh The Nibelungenlied Malory’s Morte d’Arthur The Sheking Kalidasa’s Sakuntala or The Lost Ring Alschylus’s Prometheus Trilogy of Orestes Sophocles’s (Edipus Euripides’s Medea Aristophanes’s The Knights and Clouds Horace Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales (perhaps in Morris’s edition ; or, if expurgated, in C. Clarke’s, or Mrs. Haweis’s) �22 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE Shakespeare * Milton’s Paradise Lost, Lycidas, Comus, and the shorter poems Dante’s Divina Commedia Spenser’s Fairie Queen Dryden’s Poems Scott’s Poems Wordsworth (Mr. Arnold’s selection) Pope’s Essay on Criticism Essay on Man Rape of the Lock Burns Byron’s Childe Harold Gray’s Poems Tennyson’s Idylls and smaller poems PART I Thackeray’s Vanity Fair Pendennis Dickens’s Pickwick David Copperfield Lytton’s Last Days of Pompeii George Eliot’s Adam Bede Kingsley’s Westward Ho >. Scott’s Novels CHAPTER V THE BLESSING OF FRIENDS1 Herodotus Xenophon’s Anabasis Thucydides Tacitus’s Germania Livy Gibbon’s Decline and Fall Hume’s History of England Grote’s History of Greece Carlyle’s French Revolution Green’s Short History of England Lewes’s History of Philosophy “They seem to take away the sun from the world who withdraw friendship from life ; for we have received nothing better from the Im­ mortal Gods, nothing more delightful.”—Cicero. Most of those who have written in praise of books have thought they could say nothing more conclusive than to compare them to friends. All men, said Socrates, have their different objects of ambition—horses, dogs, Arabian Nights money, honour, as the case may be ; but Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe for his own part he would rather have a Goldsmith’s Vicar of Wakefield good friend than all these put together. Cervantes’s Don Quixote And again, men know “ the number of Boswell’s Life of Johnson their other possessions, although they Moliere Schiller’s William Tell might be very numerous, but of their Sheridan’s The Critic, School for Scandal, and friends, though but few, they were not The Rivals only ignorant of the number, but even Carlyle’s Past and Present when they attempted to reckon it to such as asked them, they set aside again some Bacon’s Novum Organum that they had previously counted among Smith’s Wealth of Nations (part of) Mill’s Political Economy their friends; so little did they allow Cook’s Voyages their friends to occupy their thoughts. Humboldt’s Travels Yet in comparison with what possession, White’s Natural History of Selborne of all others, would not a good friend Darwin’s Origin of Species Naturalist’s Voyage appear far more valuable ? ” Mill’s Logic “ As to the value of other things,” says Cicero, “most men differ; concerning Bacon’s Essays friendship all have the same opinion. Montaigne’s Essays What can be more foolish than, when Hume’s Essays Macaulay’s Essays men are possessed of great influence by Addison’s Essays their wealth, power, and resources, to Emerson’s Essays procure other things which are bought Burke’s Select Works by money—horses, slaves, rich apparel, Smiles’s Self-Help costly vases—and not to procure friends, Voltaire’s Zadig and Micromegas Goethe’s Faust, and Autobiography 1 The substance of this was delivered at the London Working Men’s College. �CHAP. V THE BLESSING OF. EE ZENDS the most valuable and fairest furniture of life?” And yet, he continues, “every man can tell how many goats or sheep he possesses, but not how many friends.” In the choice, moreover, of a dog or of a horse, we exercise the greatest care : we inquire into its pedigree, its training and character, and yet we too often leave the selection of our friends, which is of in­ finitely greater importance—by whom our whole life will be more or less influenced either for good or evil—almost to chance. It is no doubt true, as the Autocrat of the Breakfast Table says, that all men are bores except when we want them. And Sir Thomas Browne quaintly observes that “ unthinking heads who have not learnt to be alone, are a prison to them­ selves if they be not with others ; whereas, on the contrary, those whose thoughts are in a fair and hurry within, are sometimes fain to retire into company to be out of the crowd of themselves.” Still I do not quite understand Emerson’s idea that “men descend to meet.” In another place, indeed, he qualifies the statement, and says, “ Almost all people descend to meet.” Even so I should venture to question it, especially considering the context. “ All association,” he adds, “must be a compromise, and, what is worse, the very flower and aroma of the flower of each of the beautiful natures disappears as they approach each other.” What a sad thought! Is it really so ; Need it be so ? And if it were, would friends be any real advantage ? I should have thought that the influence of friends was exactly the reverse : that the flower of a beautiful nature would expand, and the colours grow brighter, when stimu­ lated by the warmth and sunshine of friendship. It has been said that it is wise always to treat a friend, remembering that he may become an enemy, and an enemy, remembering that he may become a friend ; and whatever may be thought of the first part of the adage, there is certainly much wisdom in the latter. Many people seem to take more pains 23 and more pleasure in making enemies, than in making friends. Plutarch, in­ deed, quotes with approbation the. advice of Pythagoras “ not to shake hands with too many,” but as long as friends are well chosen, it is true rather that “ He who has a thousand friends, Has never a one to spare, And he who has one enemy, Will meet him everywhere,” and unfortunately, while there are few great friends there is no little enemy. I guard myself, however, by saying again—As long as they are well chosen. One is thrown in life with a great many people who, though not actively bad, though they may not wilfully lead us astray, yet take no pains with themselves, neglect their own minds, and direct the conversation to petty puerilities or mere gossip ; who do not seem to realise that conversation may by a little effort be made instructive and delightful, without being in any way pedantic ; or, on the other hand, in ay be allowed to drift into a mere morass of muddy thought and weedy words. There are few from ■whom we may not learn something, if only they will trouble themselves to tell us. Nay, even if they teach us nothing, they may help us by the stimulus of intelligent questions, or the warmth of sympathy. But if they do neither, then indeed their companionship, if companionship it can be called, is mere waste of time, and of such we may well say, “ I do desire that we be better strangers.” Much certainly of the happiness and purity of our lives depends on our making a wise choice of our companions and friends. If badly chosen they will in­ evitably drag us down ; if well they will raise us up. Yet many people seem to trust in this matter to the chapter of accident. It is well and right, indeed, to be courteous and considerate to every one with whom we are brought into contact, but to choose them as real friends is an­ other matter. Some seem to make a man a friend, or try to do so, because he lives near, because he is in the same business, �24 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE travels on the same line of railway, or for some other trivial reason. There cannot be a greater mistake. These are only, in the words of Plutarch “ the idols and images of friendship.” To be friendly with every one is another matter ; we must remember that there is no little enemy, and those who have ever really loved any one will have some tenderness for all. There is indeed some good in most men. “ I have heard much,” says Mr. Nasmyth in his charming autobiography, “ about the ingratitude and selfishness of the world. It may have been ray good fortune, but I have never experienced either of these unfeel­ ing conditions.” Such also has been my own experience. “ Men talk of unkind hearts, kind deeds With coldness still returning. Alas ! the gratitude of men Has ofteuer left me mourning.” I cannot, then, agree with Emerson when he says that “we walk alone in the world. Friends such as we desire are dreams and fables. But a sublime hope cheers ever the faithful heart, that else­ where in other regions of the universal power souls are now acting, enduring, and daring, which can love us, and which we can love.” No doubt, much as worthy friends add to the happiness and value of life, we must in the main depend on ourselves, and every one is his own best friend or worst enemy. Sad, indeed, is Bacon’s assertion that “ there is little friendship in the world, and least of all between equals, which was wont to be magnified. That that is, is between superior and inferior, whose fortunes may comprehend the one to the other.” But this can hardly be taken as his deliberate opinion, for he elsewhere says, “ but we may go farther, and affirm most truly, that it is a mere and miser­ able solitude to want true friends, without which the world is but a wilderness.” Not only, he adds, does friendship intro­ duce “ daylight in the understanding out of darkness and confusion of thoughts;” PART I it “ maketh a fair day in the affections from storm and tempests:” in consultation with a friend a man “ tosseth his thoughts more easily; he marshalleth them more orderly ; he seeth how they look when they are turned into words ; finally, he waxeth wiser than himself, and that more by an hour’s discourse than by a day’s meditation.” . . . “ But little do men perceive what solitude is, and how far it extendeth, for a crowd is not company, and faces are but a gallery of pictures, and talk but a tinkling cymbal where there is no love.” With this last assertion I cannot alto­ gether concur. Surely even strangers may be most interesting ! and many will agree with Dr. Johnson when, describing a pleasant evening, he summed it up—“ Sir, we had a good talk.” Epictetus gives excellent advice when he dissuades from conversation on the very subjects most commonly chosen, and advises that it should be on “ none of the common subjects—not about gladi­ ators, nor horse-races, nor about athletes, nor about eating or drinking, which are the usual subjects ; and especially not about men, as blaming them ; ” but when he adds, “or praising them,” the injunction seems to me of doubtful value. Surely Marcus Aurelius more wisely advises that “when thou wishest to delight thyself, think of the virtues of those who live with thee ; for instance, the activity of one, and the modesty of another, and the liberality of a third, and some other good quality of a fourth. For nothing delights so much as the examples of the virtues, when they are exhibited in the morals of those who live with us and present them­ selves in abundance, as far as is possible. Wherefore we must keep them before us.” Yet how often we know merely the sight of those we call our friends, or the sound of their voices, but nothing whatever of their mind or soul. We must, moreover, be as careful to keep friends as to make them. If every one knew what one said of the other, Pascal assures us that “ there would not �THE VALUE OF TIME CHAP. V be four friends in the world.” This I hope and think is too strong, but at any rate try to be one of the four. And when you have made a friend, keep him. Hast thou a friend, says an Eastern proverb, “ visit him often, for thorns and brushwood obstruct the road which no one treads.” The affections should not be mere “tents of a night.” Still less does Friendship confer any privilege to make ourselves disagreeable. Some people never seem to appreciate their friends till they have lost them. Anaxagoras described the Mausoleum as the ghost of wealth turned into stone. “ But he who has once stood beside the grave to look back on the companionship which has been for ever closed, feeling how impotent then are the wild love and the keen sorrow, to give one instant’s pleasure to the pulseless heart, or atone in the lowest measure to the departed spirit for the hour of unkindness, will scarcely for the future incur that debt to the heart which can only be discharged to the dust.” 1 Death, indeed, cannot sever friendship. “Friends,” says Cicero, “though absent, are still present ; though in poverty they are rich ; though weak, yet in the enjoy­ ment of health ; and, what is still more difficult to assert, though dead they are alive.” This seems a paradox, yet is there not much truth in his explanation ? “ To me, indeed, Scipio still lives, and will always live ; for I love the virtue of that man, and that worth is not yet ex­ tinguished. . . . Assuredly of all things that either fortune or time has bestowed on me, I have none which I can compare with the friendship of Scipio.” If, then, we choose our friends for what they are, not for what they have, and if we deserve so great a blessing, then they will be always with us, preserved in absence, and even after death, in the amber of memory. 25 CHAPTER VI THE VALUE OF TIME1 Each day is a little life All other good gifts depend on time for their value. What are friends, books, or health, the interest of travel or the de­ lights of home, if we have not time for their enjoyment ? Time is often said to be money, but it is more—it is life ; and yet many who would cling desperately to life, think nothing of wasting time. Ask of the wise, says Schiller in Lord Sherbrooke’s translation, ‘ ‘ The moments we forego Eternity itself cannot retrieve. ” And, in the words of Dante, “ For who knows most, him loss of time most grieves.” Not that a life of drudgery should be our ideal. Far from it. Time spent in innocent and rational enjoyments, in healthy games, in social and family inter­ course, is well and wisely spent. Games not only keep the body in health, but give a command over the muscles and limbs which cannot be over-valued. Moreover, there are temptations which strong exercise best enables us to resist. It is the idle who complain they cannot find time to do that which they fancy they wish. In truth, people can generally make time for what they choose to do ; it is not really the time but the will that is wanting: and the advantage of leisure is mainly that we may have the power of choosing our own wTork, not certainly that it confers any privilege of idleness. “ Time travels in divers paces with divers persons. I’ll tell you who time ambles withal, who time trots withal, who time gallops withal, and who he stands still withal.” 2 1 Ruskin. 1 The substance of this was delivered at the Polytechnic Institution. 2 Shakespeare. �26 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE PART I For it is not so much the hours that Devil tempts the busy man, but the idle tell, as the way we use them. man tempts the Devil. I remember, says Hillard, “a satirical poem, in which the “ Circles are praised, not that excel In largeness, but th’ exactly framed ; Devil is represented as fishing for men, So life we praise, that does excel and adapting his bait to the tastes and Not in much time, but acting well.” 1 temperaments of his prey ; but the idlers “Idleness,” says Jeremy Taylor, “is were the easiest victims, for they swallowed the greatest prodigality in the world ; it even the naked hook.” throws away that which is invaluable in The mind of the idler indeed preys upon respect of its present use, and irreparable itself. “ The human heart is like a mill­ when it is past, being to be recovered by stone in a mill; when you put wheat no power of art or nature.” under it, it turns and grinds and bruises Life must be measured rather by depth the wheat to flour ; if you put no wheat, than by length, by thought and action it still grinds on—and grinds itself away.” 1 rather than by time. “ A counted number It is not work, but care, that kills, and of pulses only,” says Pater, “is given to us it is in this sense, I suppose, that we are of a variegated, aromatic, life. How may told to “ take no thought for the morrow.” we see in them all that is to be seen by To “ consider the lilies of the field, how the finest senses 1 How can we pass most they grow ; they toil not, neither do they swiftly from point to point, and be present spin : and yet even Solomon, in all his always at the focus where the greatest glory, was not arrayed like one of these. number of vital forces unite in their Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of purest energy ? To burn always with this the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow hard gem-like flame, to maintain this is cast into the oven, shall he not much ecstasy, is success in life. Failure is to more clothe you, O ye of little faith 1 ” It form habits, for habit is relation to a would indeed be a mistake to suppose that stereotyped world ; . . . while all melts lilies are idle or imprudent. On the under our feet, we may well catch at any contrary, plants are most industrious, and exquisite passion, or any contribution to lilies store up in their complex bulbs a knowledge, that seems, by a lifted horizon, great part of the nourishment of one year to to set the spirit free for a moment.” quicken the growth of the next. Care, on I would not quote Lord Chesterfield as the other hand, they certainly know not.2 generally a safe guide, but there is certainly “ Hours have wings, fly up to the author much shrewd wisdom in his advice to his of time, and carry news of our usage. son with reference to time. “ Every All our prayers cannot entreat one of them moment you now lose, is so much character either to return or slacken his pace. The and advantage lost ; as, on the other hand, misspents of every minute are a new record every moment you now employ usefully, against us in heaven. Sure if we thought is so much time wisely laid out, at pro­ thus, we should dismiss them with better digious interest.” reports, and not suffer them to fly away And again, “ It is astonishing that any empty, or laden with dangerous intelli­ one can squander away in absolute idleness gence. How happy is it when they carry one single moment of that small portion up not only the message, but the fruits of of time which is allotted to us in the world. good, and stay with the Ancient of Days . . . Know the true value of time ; snatch, to speak for us before His glorious seize, and enjoy every moment of it.” throne! ” 3 ‘ Are you in earnest ? seize this very minute, What you can do, or think you can, begin it.” 2 There is a Turkish proverb that 1 Waller. 2 Faust. 1 Luther. 2 The word used iiepifiv-qa-qTe is translated in the Liddell and Scott “to be anxious about, to be distressed in mind, to be cumbered with many cares.” 3 Milton. �CHAP. VI THE VALUE OF TIME Time is often said to fly : but it is not so much the time that flies ; as we that waste it, and wasted time is worse than no time at all; “ I wasted time,” Shake­ speare makes Richard II. say, “and now doth time waste me.” “He that is choice of his time,” says Jeremy Taylor, “ will also be choice of his company, and choice of his actions ; lest the first engage him in vanity and loss, and the latter, by being criminal, be a throwing his time and himself away, and a going back in the accounts of eternity.” The life of man is seventy years, but how little of this is actually our own. We must deduct the time required for sleep, for meals, for dressing and undress­ ing, for exercise, etc., and then how little remains really at our own disposal! “ I have lived,” said Lamb, “ nominally fifty years, but deduct from them the hours I have lived for other people, and not for myself, anct you will find me still a young fellow.” The hours we live for other people, however, are not those which should be deducted, but rather those which benefit neither oneself nor any one else ; and these, alas 1 are often very numerous. “ There are some hours which are taken from us, some which are stolen from us, and some which slip from us.”1 But however we may lose them, we can never get them back. It is wonderful, indeed, how much innocent happiness we thought­ lessly throw away. An Eastern proverb says that calamities sent by heaven may be avoided, but from those we bring on ourselves there is no escape. Some years ago I paid a visit to the sites of the ancient lake villages of Switzer­ land in company with a distinguished archseologist, M. Morlot. To my surprise I found that his whole income was £100 a year, part of which, moreover, he spent in making a small museum. I asked him whether he contemplated accepting any post or office, but he said certainly not. He valued his leisure and opportunities 1 Seneca. 27 as priceless possessions far more than silver or gold, and would not waste any of his time in making money. Time, indeed, is a sacred gift, and each day is a little life. Just think of our advantages here in London ! We have access to the whole literature of the world ; we may see in our National Gallery the most beautiful productions of former generations, and in the Royal Academy and other galleries the works of the greatest living artists. Perhaps there is no one who has ever found time to see the British Museum thoroughly. Yet consider what it contains ; or rather, what does it not contain ? The most perfect collection of living and extinct animals; the marvellous monsters of geological ages ; the most beautiful birds, shells, and minerals ; precious stones and fragments from other worlds ; the most interesting antiquities ; curious and fantastic speci­ mens illustrating different races of men ; exquisite gems, coins, glass, and china ; the Elgin marbles; the remains of the Mausoleum ; of the temple of Diana of Ephesus; ancient monuments of Egypt and Assyria ; the rude implements of our predecessors in England, who were coeval with the hippopotamus and rhinoceros, the musk-ox, and the mammoth ; and beauti­ ful specimens of Greek and Roman art. Suffering may be unavoidable, but no one has any excuse for being dull. And yet some people are dull. They talk of a better world to come, while whatever dulness there may be here is all their own. Sir Arthur Helps has well said : “ What! dull, when you do not know what gives its loveliness of form to the lily, its depth of colour to the violet, its fragrance to the rose; when you do not know in what consists the venom of the adder, any more than you can imitate the glad movements of the dove. What ! <jull, when earth, air, and water are all alike mysteries to you, and when as you stretch out your hand you do not touch anything the properties of which you have mastered ; while all the time Nature is inviting you to talk earnestly with her, �28 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE part I to understand her, to subdue be blessed by her 1 Go away, something, do something, something, and let me hear your dulness.” her, and to Surely no one who has the opportunity man ; learn should omit to travel. The world belongs understand to him who has seen it. “ But he that no more of would make his travels delightful must first make himself delightful.” 1 According to the old proverb, “ the fool wanders, the wise man travels.” Bacon tells us that “the things to be seen and observed are the courts of princes, especi­ CHAPTER VII ally when they give audience to ambas­ THE PLEASURES OF TRAVEL 1 sadors ; the courts of justice while they sit and hear causes ; and so of consistories “I ain a part of all that I have seen.” ecclesiastic • the churches and monasteries, with the monuments which are therein I AM sometimes disposed to think that extant; the walls and fortifications of there are few things in which we of this cities and towns ; and so the havens and generation enjoy greater advantages over harbours, antiquities and ruins, libraries, our ancestors than in the increased facili­ colleges, disputations and lectures, when ties of travel; but I hesitate to say this, any are; shipping and navies ; houses not because our advantages are not great, and gardens of state and pleasure near but because I have already made the same great cities; armouries, arsenals, maga­ remark with reference to several other zines, exchanges, burses, warehouses, exer­ aspects of life. cises of horsemanship, fencing, training of The very word “ travel ” is suggestive. soldiers, and the like; comedies, such It is a form of “travail”—excessive labour; whereunto the better sort of persons do and, as Skeat observes, it forcibly recalls resort; treasuries of jewels and robes; the toil of travel in olden days. How cabinets and rarities ; and, to conclude, different things are now ! whatsoever is memorable in the places It is sometimes said that every one where they go.” should travel on foot “ like Thales, Plato, But this depends on the time at our and Pythagoras ” ; we are told that in disposal, and the object with which we these days of railroads people rush through travel. If we are long enough in any countries and see nothing. It may be so, one place Bacon’s advice is no doubt but that is not the fault of the railways. excellent; but for the moment I am They confer upon us the inestimable ad­ thinking rather of an annual holiday, vantage of being able, so rapidly and with taken for the sake of rest and health ; so little fatigue, to visit countries which for fresh air and exercise rather than for were much less accessible to our ancestors. study. Yet even so, if we have eyes to What a blessing it is that not our own see, we cannot fail to lay in a stock of islands only—our smiling fields and rich new ideas as well as a store of health. woods, the mountains that are full of We may have read the most vivid and peace and the rivers of joy, the lakes and accurate description, we may have pored heaths and hills, castles and cathedrals, over maps and plans and pictures, and yet and many a spot immortalised in the the reality will burst on us like a revela­ history of our country :—not these only, tion. This is true not only of mountains but the sun and scenery of the South, and glaciers, of palaces and cathedrals, the Alps the palaces of Nature, the blue but even of the simplest examples. Mediterranean, and the cities of Europe, For instance, like every one else, I had with all their memories and treasures, are read descriptions and seen photographs now brought within a few hours of us. and pictures of the Pyramids. Their 1 The substance of this was delivered at Oldham. 1 Seneca. �CHAP. VII THE PLEASURES OF TRAVEL form is simplicity itself. I do not know that I could put into words any character­ istic of the original for -which I was not prepared. It was not that they were larger ; it was not that they differed in form, in colour, or situation. And yet, the moment I saw them, I felt that my previous impression had been but a faint shadow of the reality. The actual sight seemed to give life to the idea. Every one who has been in the East will agree that a -week of oriental travel brings out, with more than stereoscopic effect, the pictures of patriarchal life as given us in the Old Testament. And what is true of the Old Testament is true of history generally. To those who have been in Athens or Rome, the history of Greece or Italy becomes far more interest­ ing ; -while, on the other hand, some knowledge of the history and literature enormously enhances the interest of the scenes themselves. Good descriptions and pictures, how­ ever, help us to see much more than we should perhaps perceive for ourselves. It may even be doubted whether some persons do not derive a more correct im­ pression from a good drawing or descrip­ tion, which brings out the salient points, than they would from actual, but unaided, inspection. The idea may gain in ac­ curacy, in character, and even in detail, more than it misses in vividness. But, however this may be, for those who cannot travel, descriptions and pictures have an immense interest; while to those who have travelled, they will afford an inex­ haustible delight in reviving the memories of beautiful scenes and interesting expedi­ tions. It is really astonishing how little most of us see of the beautiful world in which we live. Mr. Norman Lockyer tells me that while travelling on a scientific mission in the Rocky Mountains, he w’as astonished to meet an aged French Abbe, and could not help showing his surprise. The Abbd observed this, and in the course of con­ versation explained his presence in that distant region. 29 “You were,” he said, “I easily saw, surprised to find me here. The fact is, that some months ago I was very ill. My physicians gave me up : one morning I seemed to faint and thought that I was already in the arms of the Bon Dieu. I fancied one of the angels came and asked me, ‘Well, M. l’Abbe, and how did you like the beautiful world you have just left?’ And then it occurred to me that I who had been all my life preaching about heaven, had seen almost nothing of the world in which I was living. I determined therefore, if it pleased Provi­ dence to spare me, to see something of this world ; and so here I am.” Few of us are free, however much we might wish it, to follow the example of the worthy Abbe. But although it may not be possible for us to reach the Rocky Mountains, there are other countries nearer home which most of us might find time to visit. Though it is true that no descriptions can come near the reality, they may at least persuade us to give ourselves this great advantage. Let me then try to illustrate this by pictures in words, as realised by some of our most illustrious countrymen; I will select references to foreign countries only, not that we have not equal beauties here, but because every­ where in England one feels oneself at home. The following passage from Tyndall’s Hours of Exercise in the Alps, is almost as good as an hour in the Alps themselves : “ I looked over this wondrous scene towards Mont Blanc, the Grand Combin, the Dent Blanche, the Weissliorn, the Dom, and the thousand lesser peaks which seemed to join in the celebration of the risen day. I asked myself, as on previous occasions, How was this colossal work performed ? Who chiselled these mighty and picturesque masses out of a mere protuberance of the earth ? And the answer was at hand. Ever young, ever mighty—with the vigour of a thousand worlds still within him—the real sculptor was even then climbing up the eastern �30 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE PART I i sky. It was lie wlio raised aloft the waters which cut out these ravines; it was he who planted the glaciers on the mountain-slopes, thus giving gravity a plough to open out the valleys ; and it is he who, acting through the ages, will finally lay low these mighty monuments, rolling them gradually seaward, sowing the seeds of continents to be ; so that the people of an older earth may see mould spread, and corn wave over the hidden rocks which at this moment bear the weight of the Jungfrau.” And the Alps lie within twenty-four hours of London ! Tyndall’s writings also contain many vivid descriptions of glaciers ; those “ silent and solemn causeways . . . broad enough for the march of an army in line of battle and quiet as a street of tombs in a buried city.” 1 I do not, however, borrow from him or from any one else any descrip­ tion of glaciers, for they are so unlike any­ thing else, that no one who has not seen, can possibly visualise them. The history of European rivers yet remains to be written, and is most inter­ esting. They did not always run in their present courses. The Rhone, for instance, appears to have been itself a great traveller. At least there seems reason to believe that the upper waters of the Valais fell at first into the Danube, and so into the Black Sea ; subsequently joined the Rhine and the Thames, and so ran far north over the plains which once connected the mountains of Scotland and of Norway —to the Arctic Ocean ; and have only comparatively of late years adopted their present course into the Mediterranean. But, however this may be, the Rhine of Germany and the Rhine of Switzerland are very unlike. The catastrophe of Schaff­ hausen seems to alter the whole character of the river, and no wonder. “ Stand for half an hour,” says Ruskin, “beside the Fall of Schaffhausen, on the north side where the rapids are long, and watch how ' the vault of water first bends, unbroken, in pure polished velocity, over the arching rocks at the brow of the cataract, covering , 1 Ruskin. ' them with a dome of crystal twenty feet j thick, so swift that its motion is unseen i except when a foam globe from above , darts over it like a falling star ; . . . and , how ever and anon, startling you with its white flash, a jet of spray leaps hissing out of the fall, like a rocket, bursting in the wind and driven away in dust, filling the air with light; and how, through the curdling wreaths of the restless crushing abyss below, the blue of the water, paled by the foam in its body, shows purer than the sky through white rain-cloud • . . . their dripping masses lifted at inter­ vals, like sheaves of loaded corn, by some stronger gush from the cataract, and bowed again upon the mossy rocks as its roar dies away.” But much as we may admire the majestic grandeur of a mighty river, either in its eager rush or its calmer moments, there is something which fascinates even more in the free life, the young energy, the sparkling transparence, and merry music of smaller streams. “ The upper Swiss valleys,” as the same great Seer says, “ are sweet with perpetual streamlets, that seem always to have chosen the steepest places to come down, for the sake of the leaps, scattering their handfuls of crystal this way and that, as the wind takes them, with all the grace, but with none of the formalism, of fountains . . . until at last . . . they find their way down to the turf, and lose themselves in that, silently ; with quiet depth of clear water furrowing among the grass blades, and looking only like their shadow, but presently emerging again in little startled gushes and laughing hurries, as if they had remembered suddenly that the day was too short for them to get down the hill.” How vividly does Symonds bring before us the sunny shores of the Mediterranean, which he loves so well, and the contrast between the scenery of the North and the South. “ In northern landscapes the eye travels through vistas of leafy boughs to still, secluded crofts and pastures, where slow- �CHAP. VII THE PLEASURES OF TRA VEL moving oxen graze. The mystery of dreams and the repose of meditation haunt our massive bowers. But in the South, the lattice-work of olive boughs and foliage scarcely veils the laughing sea and bright blue sky, while the hues of the landscape find their climax in the dazzling radiance of the sun upon the waves, and the pure light of the horizon. There is no conceal­ ment and no melancholy here. Nature seems to hold a never-ending festival and dance, in which the waves and sunbeams and shadows join. Again, in northern scenery, the rounded forms of full-foliaged trees suit the undulating country, with its gentle hills and brooding clouds ; but in the South the spiky leaves and sharp branches of the olive carry out the defined outlines which are everywhere observable through the broader beauties of mountain and valley and sea-shore. Serenity and intelligence characterise this southern landscape, in which a race of splendid men and women lived beneath the pure light of Phoebus, their ancestral god. Pallas protected them, and golden Aphrodite favoured them with beauty. Olives are not, however, by any means the only trees which play a part in idyllic scenery. The tall stone pine is even more important. . . . Near Massa, by Sorrento, there are two gigantic pines so placed that, lying on the grass beneath them, one looks on Capri rising from the sea, Baiae, and all the bay of Naples sweeping round to the base of Vesuvius. Tangled growths of olives, oranges, and rose-trees fill the garden­ ground along the shore, while far away in the distance pale Inarime sleeps, with her exquisite Greek name, a virgin island on the deep. “ On the wilder hills you find patches of ilex and arbutus glowing with crimson berries and white waxen bells, sweet myrtle rods and shafts of bay, frail tamarisk and tall tree-heaths that wave their frosted houghs above your head. Nearer the shore the lentisk grows, a savoury shrub, with cytisus and aromatic rosemary. Clematis and polished garlands of tough sarsaparilla wed the shrubs with clinging, 3i climbing arms ; and here and there in sheltered nooks the vine shoots forth luxuriant tendrils bowed with grapes, stretching from branch to branch of mul­ berry or elm, flinging festoons on which young loves might sit and swing, or weaving a lattice-work of leaves across the open shed. Nor must the sounds of this landscape be forgotten,—sounds of bleat­ ing flocks, and murmuring bees, and nightingales, and doves that moan, and running streams, and shrill cicadas, and hoarse frogs, and whispering pines. There is not a single detail which a patient student may not verify from Theocritus. “ Then too it is a landscape in which sea and country are never sundered. The higher we climb upon the mountain-side the more marvellousis the beauty of the sea, which seems to rise as we ascend, and stretch into the sky. Sometimes a little flake of blue is framed by olive boughs, sometimes a turning in the road reveals the whole broad azure calm below. Or, after toiling up a steep ascent we fall upon the undergrowth of juniper, and lo ! a double sea, this way and that, divided by the sharp spine of the jutting hill, jewelled with villages along its shore, and smiling with fair islands and silver sails.” To many of us the mere warmth of the South is a blessing and a delight. The very thought of it is delicious. I have read over again and again Wallace’s graphic description of a tropical sunrise—of the sun of the early morning that turneth all into gold. “ Up to about a quarter past five o’clock,” he says, “ the darkness is complete ; but about that time a few cries of birds begin to break the silence of night, perhaps indicating that signs of dawn are percept­ ible in the eastern horizon. A little later the melancholy voices of the goatsuckers are heard, varied croakings of frogs, the plaintive whistle of mountain thrushes, and strange cries of birds or mammals peculiar to each locality. About half-past five the first glimmer of light becomes perceptible ; it slowly becomes lighter, and �32 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE then, increases so rapidly that at about a quarter to six it seems full daylight. For the next quarter of an hour this changes very little in character ; when, suddenly, the sun’s rim appears above the horizon, decking the dew-laden foliage with glitter­ ing gems, sending gleams of golden light far into the woods, and waking up all nature to life and activity. Birds chirp and flutter about, parrots scream, monkeys chatter, bees hum among the flowers, and gorgeous butterflies flutter lazily along or sit with full expanded wings exposed to the warm and invigorating rays. The first hour of morning in the equatorial regions possesses a charm and a beauty that can never be forgotten. All nature seems refreshed and strengthened by the coolness and moisture of the past night, new leaves and buds unfold almost before the eye, and fresh shoots may often be observed to have grown many inches since the preceding day. The temperature is the most delicious conceivable. The slight chill of early dawn, which was itself agreeable, is succeeded by an invigorating warmth ; and the intense sunshine lights up the glorious vegetation of the tropics, and realises all that the magic art of the painter or the glowing words of the poet have pictured as their ideals of terrestrial beauty.” Or take Dean Stanley’s description of the colossal statues of Amenophis III., the Memnon of the Greeks, at Thebes—“The sun was setting, the African range glowed red behind them ; the green plain was dyed with a deeper green beneath them, and the shades of evening veiled the vast rents and fissures in their aged frames. As I looked back at them in the sunset, and they rose up in front of the background of the mountain, they seemed, indeed, as if they were part of it,—as if they belonged to some natural creation.” But I must not indulge myself in more quotations, though it is difficult to stop. Such pictures recall the memory of many glorious days : for the advantages of travels last through life ; and often, as we sit at home, “some bright and perfect view of PART I Venice, of Genoa, or of Monte Rosa comes back on you, as full of repose as a day wisely spent in travel.” 1 So far is a thorough love and enjoyment of travel from interfering with the love of home, that perhaps no one can thoroughly enjoy his home who does not sometimes wander away. They are like exertion and rest, each the complement of the other ; so that, though it may seem paradoxical, one of the greatest pleasures of travel is the return ; and no one who has not roamed abroad, can realise the devotion which the wanderer feels for Domiduca—the sweet and gentle goddess who watches over our coming home. CHAPTER VIII THE PLEASURES OF HOME “There’s no place like Home.”— Old English Song. It may ■well be doubted which is more delightful,—to start for a holiday which has been fully earned, or to return home from one which has been thoroughly enjoyed ; to find oneself, with renewed vigour, with a fresh store of memories and ideas, back once more by one’s own fireside, with one’s family, friends, and books. “ To sit at home,” says Leigh Hunt, “with an old folio (?) book of romantic yet credible voyages and travels to read, an old bearded traveller for its hero, a fireside in an old country house to read it by, curtains drawn, and just wind enough stirring out of doors to make an accom­ paniment to the billows or forests we are reading of—this surely is one of the perfect moments of existence.” It is no doubt a great privilege to visit foreign countries; to travel say in Mexico or Peru, or to cruise among the Pacific Islands ; but in some respects the narratives of early travellers, the histories of Prescott or the voyages of 1 Helps. �CHAP. VIII THE PLEASURES OF HOME Captain Cook, are even more interesting ; describing to us, as they do, a state of society which was then so unlike ours, but which has now been much changed and Europeanised. Thus we may make our daily travels interesting, even though, like those of the Vicar of Wakefield, all 'our adventures are by our own fireside, and all our migra­ tions from one room to another. Moreover, even if the beauties of home are humble, they are still infinite, and a man “ may lie in his bed, like Pompey and his sons, in all quarters of the earth.” 1 It is, then, wise to “ cultivate a talent very fortunate for a man of my dis­ position, that of travelling in my easy chair ; of transporting myself, without stirring from my parlour, to distant places and to absent friends ; of drawing scenes in my mind’s eye ; and of peopling them with the groups of fancy, or the society of remembrance.” 2 We may indeed secure for ourselves endless variety without leaving our own firesides. In the first place, the succession of seasons multiplies every home. How different is the view from our windows as we look on the tender green of spring, the rich foliage of summer, the glorious tints of autumn, or the delicate tracery of winter. Our climate is so happy, that even in the worst months of the year, “ calm mornings of sunshine visit us at times, appearing like glimpses of departed spring amid the wilderness of wet and windy days that lead to winter. It is pleasant, when these interludes of silvery light occur, to ride into the woods and see how wonderful are all the colours of decay. Overhead, the elms and chestnuts hang their wealth of golden leaves, while the beeches darken into russet tones, and the wild cherry glows like blood-red wine. In the hedges crimson haws and scarlet hips are wreathed with hoary clematis or 1 Sir T. Browne. 2 Mackenzie, The Lounger. D 33 necklaces of coral briony-berries ; the brambles burn with many-coloured flames ; the dog-wood is bronzed to purple ; and here and there the ’ spindle-wood puts forth its fruit, like knots of rosy buds, on delicate frail twigs. Underneath lie fallen leaves, and the brown bracken rises to our knees as we thread the forest paths.”1 Nay, every day gives us a succession of glorious pictures in never-ending variety. It is remarkable how few people seem to derive any pleasure from the beauty of the sky. Gray, after describing a sunrise —how it began, with a slight whitening, just tinged with gold and blue, lit up all at once by a little line of insufferable brightness which rapidly grew to half an orb, and so to a whole one too glorious to be distinctly seen—adds, “ I wonder whether any one ever saw it before. I hardly believe it.” 2 No doubt from the dawn of poetry, the splendours of the morning and evening skies have delighted all those who have eyes to see. But we are especially indebted to Ruskin for enabling us more vividly to realise these glorious sky pictures. As he says, in language almost as brilliant as the sky itself, the whole heaven, “from the zenith to the horizon, becomes one molten, mantling sea of color and fire ; every black bar turns into massy gold, every ripple and wave into unsullied, shadowless crimson, and purple, and scarlet, and colors for which there are no words in language, and no ideas in the mind—things which can only be conceived while they are visible ; the intense hollow blue of the upper sky melting through it all, showing here deep and pure, and lightness ; there, modulated by the filmy, formless body of the trans­ parent vapour, till it is lost imperceptibly in its crimson and gold.” ' It is in some cases indeed “ not color but conflagration,” and though the tints are richer and more varied towards morn­ ing and at sunset, the glorious kaleidoscope goes on all day long. Yet “ it is a strange 1 J. A. Symonds. 2 Gray’s Letters. �THE PLEASURES OE LIRE 34 thing how little in general people know about the sky. It is the part of creation in which Nature has done more for the sake of pleasing man, more for the sole and evident purpose of talking to him and teaching him, than in any other of her works, and it is just the part in which we least attend to her. There are not many of her other works in which some more material or essential purpose than the mere pleasing of man is not answered by every part of their organisation ; but every essential purpose of the sky might, so far as we know, be answered, if once in three days, or thereabouts, a great, ugly, black rain-cloud were brought up over the blue, and everything well watered, and so all left blue again till next time, with perhaps a film of morning and evening mist for dew. And instead of this, there is-not a moment of any day of our lives when Nature is not producing scene after scene, picture after picture, glory after glory, and working still upon such exquisite and constant principles of the most perfect beauty, that it is quite certain it is all done for us, and intended for our perpetual pleasure.” 1 Nor does the beauty end with the day. “ Is it nothing to sleep under the canopy of heaven, where we have the globe of the earth for our place of repose, and the glories of the heavens for our spectacle? ”2 For my part I always regret the custom of shutting up our rooms in the evening, as though there was nothing worth seeing outside. What, however, can be more beautiful than to “ look how the floor of heaven is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold,” or to watch the moon journeying in calm and silver glory through the night. And even if we do not feel that “ the man who has seen the rising moon break out of the clouds at midnight, has been present like an Arch­ angel at the creation of light and of the world,”3 still “ the stars say something significant to all of us : and each man has a whole hemisphere of them, if he r Ruskin. 2 Seneca. 3 Emerson. PART I will but look up, to counsel and befriend him ” ;1 for it is not so much, as Helps elsewhere observes, “in guiding us over the seas of our little planet, but out of the dark waters of'our own perturbed minds, that we may make to ourselves the most of their significance.” Indeed, “ How beautiful is night ! A dewy freshness fills the silent air ; No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain, Breaks the serene of heaven : In full-orbed glory yonder moon divine Rolls through the dark blue depths ; Beneath her steady ray The desert circle spreads, Like the round ocean, girdled with the sky ; How beautiful is night ! ” 2 I have never wondered at those who worshipped the sun and moon. On the other hand, when all outside is dark and cold ; when perhaps “ Outside fall the snowflakes lightly ; Through the night loud raves the storm ; In my room the fire glows brightly, And ’tis cosy, silent, warm. Musing sit I on the settle By the firelight’s cheerful blaze, Listening to the busy kettle Humming long-forgotten lays.” 3 For after all the true pleasures of home are not without, but within ; and “ the domestic man who loves no music so well as his -own kitchen clock and the airs which the logs sing to him as they burn on the hearth, has solaces which others never dream of.” 4 We love the ticking of the clock, and the flicker of the fire, like the sound of the cawing of rooks, not so much for any beauty of their own as for their associations. It is a great truth that when we re­ tire into ourselves we can call up what memories we please. “ How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection recalls them to view.— The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wildwood And every lov’d spot which my infancy knew.” 5 1 Helps. 2 Southey. 3 Heine, trans, by E. A. Bowring. 4 Emerson, 8 Woodworth. �THE PLEASURES OF HOME CHAP. VIII It is not so much the “ Fireside enjoyments, And all the comforts of the lowly roof,” 1 but rather, according to the higher and better ideal of Keble, “ Sweet is the smile of home ; the mutual look, When hearts are of each other sure ; Sweet all the joys that crowd the household nook, The haunt of all affections pure.” In ancient times, not only among savage races, but even among the Greeks themselves, there seems to have been but little family life. What a contrast was the home life of the Greeks, as it seems to have been, to that, for instance, described by Cowley— a home happy “ in books and gardens,” and above all, in a “ Virtuous wife, where thou dost meet Both pleasures more refined and sweet; The fairest garden in her looks And in her mind the wisest books.” No one who has ever loved mother or wife, sister or daughter, can read without astonishment and pity St. Chrysostom’s description of woman as “a necessary evil, a natural temptation, a desirable calamity, a domestic peril, a deadly fascina­ tion, and a painted ill.” In few respects has mankind made a greater advance than in the relations of men and women. It is terrible to think how women suffer in savage life; and even among the intellectual Greeks, with rare exceptions, they seem to have been treated rather as housekeepers or play­ things than as the Angels who make a Heaven of home. The Hindoo proverb that you should “ never strike a wife, even with a flower,” though a considerable advance, tells a melancholy tale of what must previously have been. In The Origin of Civilisation I have given many cases showing how small a part family affection plays in savage life. Here I will only mention one case in illustration. The Algonquin (North i 1 Cowper. | 35 America) language contained no word for “ love,” so that when the missionaries translated the Bible into it they were obliged to invent one. What a life, and what a language, without love. Yet in marriage even the rough passion of a savage may contrast favourably with any cold calculation, which, like the en­ chanted hoard of the Nibelungs, is almost sure to bring misfortune. In the Kalevala, the Finnish epic, the divine smith, Ilmarinnen, forges a bride of gold and silver for Wainamoinen, who was pleased at first to have so rich a wife, but soon found her intolerably cold, for, in spite of fires and furs, whenever he touched her she froze him. Moreover, apart from mere coldness, how much we suffer from foolish quarrels about trifles ; from mere misunderstand­ ings ; from hasty words thoughtlessly repeated, sometimes without the context or tone which would have deprived them of any sting. How much would that charity which “beareth all things, believeth all things, bopeth all things, endureth all things,” effect to smooth away the sorrows of life and add to the happiness of home. Home indeed may be a sure haven of repose from the storms and perils of the world. But to secure this we must not be content to pave it with good intentions, but must make it bright and cheerful. If our life be one of toil and of suffer­ ing, if the world outside be cold and dreary, what a pleasure to return to the sunshine of happy faces and the warmth of hearts we love. �36 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE ’Twas she discovered that the world was young, And taught a language to its lisping tongue.” CHAPTER IX SCIENCE 1 “Happy is he that findeth wisdom, And the man that getteth understanding : For the merchandise of it is better than silver, And the gain thereof than fine gold. She is more precious than rubies : And all the things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto her. Length of days is in her right hand, And in her left hand riches and honour. Her ways are ways of pleasantness, And all her paths are peace.” Proverbs of PART I Solomon. Those who have not tried for themselves can hardly imagine how much Science adds to the interest and variety of life. It is altogether a mistake to regard it as dry, difficult, or prosaic—-much of it is as easy as it is interesting. A wise in­ stinct of old united the prophet and the “ seer.” “ The wise man’s eyes are in his head, but the fool walketh in dark­ ness.” Technical works, descriptions of species, etc., bear the same relation to science as dictionaries do to literature. Occasionally, indeed, Science may de­ stroy some poetical myth of antiquity, such as the ancient Hindoo explanation of rivers, that “ Indra dug out their beds with his thunderbolts, and sent them forth by long continuous paths ; ” but the real causes of natural phenomena are far more striking, and contain more true poetry, than those which have occurred to the untrained imagination of mankind. In endless aspects science is as wonder­ ful and interesting as a fairy tale. ‘ ‘ There are things whose strong reality Outshines our fairyland ; in shape and hues More beautiful than our fantastic sky, And the strange constellations which the Muse O’er her wild universe is skilful to diffuse.” 2 Mackay justly exclaims : “Blessings on Science! When the earth seemed old, When Faith grew doting, and our reason cold, 1 The substance of this was delivered at Mason College, Birmingham. 2 Byron. Botany, for instance, is by many re­ garded as a dry science. Yet though without it we may admire flowers and trees, it is only as strangers, only as one may admire a great man or a beautiful woman in a crowd. The botanist, on the contrary—nay, I will not say the botanist, but one with even a slight knowledge of that delightful science—when he goes out into the woods, or into one of those fairy forests which we call fields, finds himself welcomed by a glad company of friends, every one with something inter­ esting to tell. Dr. Johnson said that, in his opinion, when you had seen one green field you had seen them all; and a greater even than Johnson—Socrates— the very type of intellect without science, said he was always anxious to learn, and from fields and trees he could learn nothing. It has, I know, been said that botanists “Love not the flower they pluck and know it not, And all their botany is but Latin names. ” Contrast this, however, with the language of one who would hardly claim to be a master in botany, though he is certainly a loving student. “Consider,” says Ruskin, “ what we owe to the meadow grass, to the covering of the dark ground by that glorious enamel, by the companies of those soft, countless, and peaceful spears of the field ! Follow but for a little time the thought of all that we ought to recognise in those words. All spring and summer is in them—the walks by silent scented paths, the rest in noonday heat, the joy of the herds and flocks, the power of all shepherd life and meditation; the life of the sunlight upon the world, fall­ ing in emerald streaks and soft blue shadows, when else it would have struck on the dark mould or scorching dust; pastures beside the pacing brooks, soft banks and knolls of lowly hills, thymy slopes of down overlooked by the blue �CHAP. IX SCIENCE line of lifted sea ; crisp lawns all dim with early dew, or smooth in evening warmth of barred sunshine, dinted by happy feet, softening in their fall the sound of loving voices.” My own tastes and studies have led me mainly in the direction of Natural History and Archaeology ; but if you love one science, you cannot but feel in­ tense interest in them all. How grand are the truths of Astronomy ! Prudhomme, in a sonnet, beautifully trans­ lated by Arthur O’Shaugnessy, has pictured an Observatory. He says— “ ’Tis late ; the astronomer in his lonely height, Exploring all the dark, descries afar Orbs that like distant isles of splendour are.” He notices a comet, and calculating its orbit, finds that it will return in a thousand years— “ The star will come. It dare not by one hour Cheat Science, or falsify her calculation ; Men will have passed, but, watchful in the tower, Man shall remain in sleepless contemplation ; And should all men have perished in their turn, Truth in their place would watch that star’s return.” Ernest Rhys well says of a student’s chamber— “ Strange things pass nightly in this little room, All dreary as it looks by light of day ; Enchantment reigns here when at evening play Red fire-light glimpses through the pallid gloom.” And the true student, in Ruskin’s words, stands on an eminence from which he looks back on the universe of God and forward over the generations of men. Even if it be true that science was dry when it was buried in huge folios, that is certainly no longer the case now ; and Lord Chesterfield’s wise wish, that Minerva might have three Graces as well as Venus, has been amply fulfilled. The study of natural history indeed seems destined to replace the loss of what is, not very happily I think, termed “ sport; ” engraven in us as it is by the 37 operation of thousands of years, during which man lived greatly on the produce of the chase. Game is gradually becoming “small by degrees and beautifully less.” Our prehistoric ancestors hunted the Mammoth, the woolly-haired Rhinoceros, and the Irish Elk ; the ancient Britons had the wild ox, the deer, and the wolf. We have still the pheasant, the partridge, the fox, and the hare; but even these are becoming scarcer, and must be preserved first, in order that they may be killed afterwards. Some of us even now—and more, no doubt, will hereafter—satisfy instincts, essentially of the same origin, by the study of birds, or insects, or even infusoria—of creatures which more than make up by their variety what they want in size. Emerson avers that when a naturalist has “got all snakes and lizards in his phials, science has done for him also, and has put the man into a bottle.” I do not deny that there are such cases, but they are quite exceptional. The true naturalist is no mere dry collector. I cannot resist, although it is rather long, quoting the following description from Hudson and Gosse’s beautiful work on the Rotifera :— “ On the Somersetshire side of the Avon, and not far from Clifton, is a little combe, at the bottom of which lies an old fish-pond, Its slopes are covered with plantations of beech and fir, so as to shelter the pond on three sides, and yet leave it open to the soft south-western breezes, and to the afternoon sun. At the head of the combe wells up a clear spring, which sends a thread of water, trickling through a bed of osiers, into the upper end of the pond. A stout stone wall has been drawn across the combe from side to side, so as to dam up the stream ; and there is a gap in one corner through which the overflow finds its way in a miniature cascade, down into the lower plantation. “ If we approach the pond by the game­ keeper’s path from the cottage above, we shall pass through the plantation, and come unseen right on the corner of the �38 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE wall; so that one quiet step will enable us to see at a glance its whole surface, without disturbing any living thing that may be there. “Far off at the upper end a water-hen is leading her little brood among the willows ; on the fallen trunk of an old beech, lying half way across the pond, a vole is sitting erect, rubbing his right ear, and the splash of a beech husk just at our feet tells of a squirrel who is dining some­ where in the leafy crown above us. “ But see, the water-rat has spied us out, and is making straight for his hole in the bank, while the ripple above him is the only thing that tells of his silent flight. The water-hen has long ago got under cover, and the squirrel drops no more husks. It is a true Silent Pond, and without a sign of life. “But if, retaining sense and sight, we could shrink into living atoms and plunge under the water, of what a world of wonders should we then form part ! We should find this fairy kingdom peopled with the strangest creatures—creatures that swim with their hair, that have ruby eyes blazing deep in their necks, with telescopic limbs that now are withdrawn wholly within their bodies and now stretched out to many times their own length. Here are some riding at anchor, moored by delicate threads spun out from their toes ; and there are others flashing by in glass armour, bristling with sharp spikes or ornamented with bosses and flowing curves ; while fastened to a green stem is an animal convolvulus that, by some invisible power, draws a neverceasing stream of victims into its gaping cup, and tears them to death with hooked jaws deep down within its body. “ Close by it, on the same stem, is some­ thing that looks like a filmy heart’s-ease. A curious wheelwork runs round its four outspread petals ; and a chain of minute things, living and dead, is winding in and out of their curves into a gulf at the back of the flower. What happens to them there we cannot see ; for round the stem is raised a tube of golden-brown balls, all j PART I regularly piled on each other. Some creature dashes by, and like a flash the flower vanishes within its tube. “We sink still lower, and now see on the bottom slow gliding lumps of jelly that thrust a shapeless arm out where they will, and grasping their prey with these chance limbs, wrap themselves round their food to get a meal; for they creep without feet, seize without hands, eat without mouths, and digest without stomachs.” Too many, however, still feel only in Nature that which we share “ with the weed and the worm ; ” they love birds as boys do—that is, they love throwing stones at them ; or wonder if they are good to eat, as the Esquimaux asked about the watch ; or treat them as certain devout Afreedee villagers are said to have treated a descendant of the Prophet—killed him in order to worship at his tomb: but gradually we may hope that the love of Science—the notes “we sound upon the strings of nature ”1—-will become to more and more, as already it is to many, a “ faithful and sacred element of human feeling.” Science summons us “ To that cathedral, boundless as our wonder, Whose quenchless lamps the sun and moon supply ; Its choir the winds and waves, its organ thunder, Its dome the sky.” 2 Where the untrained eye will see nothing but mire and dirt, Science will often reveal exquisite possibilities. The mud we tread under our feet in the street is a grimy mixture of clay and sand, soot and water. Separate the sand, however, as Ruskin observes—-let the atoms arrange themselves in peace according to their nature—and you have the opal. Separate the clay, and it becomes a white earth, fit for the finest porcelain; or if it still further purifies itself, you have a sapphire. Take the soot, and if properly treated it will give you a diamond. While, lastly, the water, purified and distilled, will become a dew-drop, or crystallise into a lovely star. Or, again, you may see as 1 Emerson. 2 H. Smith. �CHAP. IX SCIENCE 39 you will in any shallow pool either the many years ago by Professor Huxley to mud lying at the bottom, or the image the South London Working Men’s College of the heavens above. which struck me very much at the time, Nay, even if we imagine beauties and and which puts this in language more charms which do not really exist ; still if forcible than any which I could use. we err at all, it is better to do so on the “Suppose,” he said, “it were perfectly side of charity; like Nasmyth, who tells certain that the life and fortune of every us in his delightful autobiography, that one of us would, one day or other, depend he used to think one of his friends had a upon his winning or losing a game of charming and kindly twinkle, and was chess. Don’t you think that we should one day surprised to discover that he all consider it to be a primary duty to had a glass eye. learn at least the names and the moves of But I should err indeed were I to the pieces ? Do you not think that we dwell exclusively on science as lending should look with a disapprobation amount­ interest and charm to our leisure hours. ing to scorn upon the father who allowed Far from this, it would be impossible his son, or the State which allowed its to overrate the importance of scientific members, to grow up without knowing a training on the wise conduct of life. pawn from a knight ? Yet it is a very “ Science,” said the Royal Commission plain and elementary truth that the life, of 1861, “quickens and cultivates directly the fortune, and the happiness of every the faculty of observation, which in very one of us, and more or less of those who many persons lies almost dormant through are connected with us, do depend upon life, the power of accurate and rapid our knowing something of the rules of a generalisation, and the mental habit of game infinitely more difficult and compli­ method and arrangement; it accustoms cated than chess. It is a game which young persons to trace the sequence of has been played for untold ages, every cause and effect; it familiarises them with man and woman of us being one of the a kind of reasoning which interests them, two players in a game of his or her own. and which they can promptly compre­ The chessboard is the world, the pieces hend • and it is perhaps the best correc­ are the phenomena of the Universe, the tive for that indolence which is the vice rules of the game are what we call the of half-awakened minds, and which shrinks laws of Nature. The player on the other from any exertion that is not, like an side is hidden from us. We know that effort of memory, merely mechanical.” his play is always fair, just, and patient. Again, when we contemplate the gran­ But also we know to our cost that he deur of science, if we transport ourselves never overlooks a mistake or makes the in imagination back into primeval times, smallest allowance for ignorance. To the or away into the immensity of space, man who plays well the highest stakes our little troubles and sorrows seem to are paid, with that sort of overflowing shrink into insignificance. “ Ah, beautiful generosity which with the strong shows creations ! ” says Helps, speaking of the delight in strength. And one who plays stars, “it is not in guiding us over the ill is checkmated—without haste, but seas of our little planet, but out of the without remorse.” dark waters of our own perturbed minds, I have elsewhere1 endeavoured to show that we may make to ourselves the most the purifying and ennobling influence of of your significance.” They teach, he tells science upon religion ; how it has assisted, us elsewhere, “something significant to if indeed it may not claim the main share, all of us; and each man has a whole in sweeping away the dark superstitions, hemisphere of them, if he will but look the degrading belief in sorcery and witch­ up, to counsel and befriend him.” craft, and the cruel, however well-intenThere is a passage in an address given 1 The, Origin of Civilisation. �40 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE tioned, intolerance which embittered the Christian world almost from the very days of the Apostles themselves. In this she has surely performed no mean service to religion itself. As Canon Fremantle has well and justly said, men of science, and not the clergy only, are ministers of religion. Again, the national necessity for scientific education is imperative. We are apt to forget how much we owe to science, because so many of its wonderful gifts have become familiar parts of our everyday life, that their very value makes us forget their origin. At the recent celebration of the sexcentenary of Peterhouse College, near the close of a long dinner, Sir Frederick Bramwell was called on, some time after midnight, to return thanks for Applied Science. He excused himself from making a long speech on the ground that, though the subject was almost inexhaustible, the only illustration which struck him as appropriate under the circumstances was “ the application of the domestic lucifer to the bedroom candle.” One cannot but feel how un­ fortunate was the saying of the poet that “The light-outspeeding telegraph Bears nothing on its beam.” The report of the Royal Commission on Technical Instruction, which has recently been issued, teems with illustra­ tions of the advantages afforded by technical instruction. At the same time, technical training ought not to begin too soon, for, as Bain truly observes, “ in a right view of scientific education the first principles and leading examples, with select details, of all the great sciences, are the proper basis of the complete and exhaustive study of any single science.” Indeed, in the words of Sir John Herschel, “it can hardly be pressed forcibly enough on the attention of the student of Nature, that there is scarcely any natural pheno­ menon which can be fully and completely explained in all its circumstances, with­ out a union of several, perhaps of all, the sciences.” The most important secrets of Nature are often hidden away in unex­ pected places. Many valuable substances PART I have been discovered in the refuse of manufactories ; and it was a happy thought of Glauber to examine what everybody else threw away. There is perhaps no nation the future happiness and prosperity of which depend more on science than our own. Our population is over 35,000,000, and is rapidly increas­ ing. Even at present it is far larger than our acreage can support. Few people whose business does not lie in the study of statistics realise that we have to pay foreign countries no less than £150,000,000 a year for food. This, of course, we purchase mainly by manu­ factured articles. We hear even now a great deal about depression of trade, and foreign, especially American, competition ; but let us look forward a hundred years —no long time in the history of a nation. Our coal supplies will then be greatly diminished. The population of Great Britain doubles at the present rate of increase in about fifty years, so that we should, if the present rate continues, require to import over £400,000,000 a year in food. How, then, is this to be paid for ? We have before us, as usual, three courses. The natural rate of increase may be stopped, which means suffering and outrage ; or the population may increase, only to vegetate in misery and destitution; or, lastly, by the de­ velopment of scientific training and appliances, they may probably be main­ tained in happiness and comfort. We have, in fact, to make our choice between science and suffering. It is only by wisely utilising the gifts of science that we have any hope of maintaining our population in plenty and comfort. Science, however, will do this for us if we will only let her. She may be no Fairy Godmother indeed, but she will richly endow those who love her. That discoveries, innumerable, marvel­ lous, and fruitful, await the successful explorers of Nature no one can doubt. “We are so far,” says Locke, “from being admitted into the secrets of Nature, that we scarce so much as approach the �CHAP. IX SCIENCE first entrance towards them.” What would one not give for a Science primer of the next century ? for, to paraphrase a well-known saying, even the boy at the plough will then, know more of science than the wisest of our philosophers do now. Boyle entitled one of his essays “ Of Man’s great Ignorance of the Uses of Natural Things; or that there is no one thing in Nature whereof the uses to human life are yet thoroughly under­ stood ”—a saying which is still as true now as when it was written. And, lest I should be supposed to be taking too sanguine a view, let me give the authority of Sir John Herschel, who says : “Since it cannot but be that innumerable and most important uses remain to be dis­ covered among the materials and objects already known to us, as well as among those which the progress of science must hereafter disclose, we may hence conceive a well-grounded expectation, not only of constant increase in the physical resources of mankind, and the consequent improve­ ment of their condition, but of continual accession to our power of penetrating into the arcana of Nature and becoming acquainted with her highest laws.” Nor is it merely in a material point of view that science would thus benefit the nation. She will raise and strengthen the national, as surely as the individual, character. The great gift which Minerva offered to Paris is now freely tendered to all, for we may apply to the nation, as well as to the individual, Tennyson’s noble lines :— “ Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control: These three alone lead life to sovereign power, Yet not for power (power of herself Would come uncalled for), but to live bylaw ; Acting the law we live by without fear.” “ In the vain and foolish exultation of the heart,” said John Quincey Adams, at the close of his final lecture on resigning his chair at Boston, “ which the brighter prospects of life will sometimes excite, the pensive portress of Science shall call you to the sober pleasures of her holy cell. In the mortification of disappoint­ 4i ment, her soothing voice shall whisper serenity and peace. In social converse with the mighty dead of ancient days, you will never smart under the galling sense of dependence upon the mighty living of the present age. And in your struggles with the world, should a crisis ever occur, when even friendship may deem it prudent to desert you, when priest and Levite shall come and look on you and pass by on the other side, seek refuge, my unfailing friends, and be assured you shall find it, in the friend­ ship of Laelius and Scipio, in the patriotism of Cicero, Demosthenes, and Burke, as well as in the precepts and example of Him whose law is love, and who taught us to remember injuries only to forgive them.” Let me in conclusion quote the glow­ ing description of our debt to science given by Archdeacon Farrar in his address at Liverpool College-—-testimony, more­ over, all the more valuable, considering the source from which it comes. “In this great commercial city,” he said, “ where you are surrounded by the triumphs of science and of mechanism— you, whose river is ploughed by the great steamships whose white wake has been called the fittest avenue to the palace front of a mercantile people—you know well that in the achievements of science there is not only beauty and wonder, but also beneficence and power. It is not only that she has revealed to us infinite space crowded with unnumbered worlds ; infinite time peopled by unnumbered existences ; infinite organisms hitherto in­ visible but full of delicate and irridescent loveliness ; but also that she has been, as a great Archangel of Mercy, devoting herself to the service of man. She has laboured, her votaries have laboured, not to increase the power of despots or add to the magnificence of courts, but to extend human happiness, to economise human effort, to extinguish human pain. Where of old, men toiled, half blinded and half naked, in the mouth of the glowing furnace to mix the white-hot iron, she �THE PLEASURES OF LIFE 42 now substitutes the mechanical action of the viewless air. She has enlisted the sunbeam in her service to limn for us, with absolute fidelity, the faces of the friends we love. She has shown the poor miner how he may work in safety, even amid the explosive fire-damp of the mine. She has, by her anaesthetics, enabled the sufferer to be hushed and unconscious while the delicate hand of some skilled operator cuts a fragment from the nervous circle of the unquiver­ ing eye. She points not to pyramids built during weary centuries by the sweat of miserable nations, but to the lighthouse and the steamship, to the rail­ road and the telegraph. She has restored eyes to the blind and hearing to the deaf. She has lengthened life, she has minimised danger, she has controlled madness, she has trampled on disease. And on all these grounds, I think that none of our sons should grow up wholly ignorant of studies which at once train the reason and fire the imagination, which fashion as well as forge, which can feed as well as fill the mind.” CHAPTER X EDUCATION “No pleasure is comparable to the standing upon the vantage ground of truth.”—Bacon. ‘ ‘ Divine Philosophy ! Not harsh and crabbed as dull fools suppose, But musical as is Apollo’s lute, And a perpetual feast of nectar’d sweets Where no crude surfeit reigns.”—Milton. It may seem rather surprising to include education among the pleasures of life ; for in too many cases it is made odious to the young, and is supposed to cease with school; while, on the contrary, if it is to be really successful it must be suit­ able, and therefore interesting, to children, and must last through life. The very process of acquiring knowledge is a privilege and a blessing. It used to be PART I said that there was no royal road to learn­ ing : it would be more true to say that the avenues leading to it are all royal. “It is not,” says Jeremy Taylor, “the eye that sees the beauties of heaven, nor the ear that hears the sweetness of music, or the glad tidings of a prosperous accident; but the soul that perceives all the relishes of sensual and intellectual perceptions: and the more noble and excellent the soul is, the greater and more savoury are its perceptions. And if a child behold the rich ermine, or the diamonds of a starry night, or the order of the world, or hears the discourses of an apostle ; because he makes no reflex act on himself and sees not what he sees, he can have but the pleasure of a fool or the deliciousness of a mule.” Herein lies the importance of educa­ tion. I say education rather than in-, struction, because it is far more important to cultivate the mind than to store the memory. Instruction is only a part of education : the true teacher has been well described by Montgomery : ‘ ’ And while in tones of sportive tenderness, He answer’d all its questions, and ask’d others As simple as its own, yet wisely framed To wake and prove an infant’s faculties ; As though its mind were some sweet instru­ ment, And he, with breath and touch, were finding out What stops or keys would yield the richest music.” Studies are a means and not an end. “To spend too much time in studies is sloth ; to use them too much for orna­ ment is affectation ; to make judgment wholly by their rules is the humour of a scholar : they perfect nature, and are per­ fected by experience. . . . Crafty men contemn studies, simple men admire them, and wise men use them.” 1 Moreover, though, as Mill says, “in the comparatively early state of human development in which we now live, a person cannot indeed feel that entireness of sympathy with all others which would make any real discordance in the general 1 Bacon. �EDUCATION CHAP. X direction of tlieir conduct in life impos­ sible,” yet education might surely do more to root in us the feeling of unity with our fellow-creatures. At any rate, if we do not study in this spirit, all our learning will but leave us as weak and sad as Faust. Our studies should be neither “a couch on which to rest; nor a cloister in which to promenade alone ; nor a tower from which to look down on others; nor a fortress whence we may resist them ; nor a workshop for gain and merchandise ; but a rich armoury and treasury for the glory of the creator and the ennoblement of life.” 1 For in the noble words of Epictetus, “ you will do the greatest service to the state if you shall raise, not the roofs of the houses, but the souls of the citizens : for it is better that great souls should dwell in small houses rather than for mean slaves to lurk in great houses.” It is then of great importance to con­ sider whether our present system of education is the one best calculated to fulfil these great objects. Does it really give that love of learning which is better than learning itself ? Does all the study of the classics to which our sons devote so many years give any just appreciation of them; or do they not on leaving college too often feel with Byron— “ Then farewell, Horace ; whom I hated so ! ” Too much concentration on any one subject is a great mistake, especially in early life. Nature herself indicates the true system, if we would but listen to her. Our instincts are good guides, though not infallible, and children will profit little by lessons which do not interest them. In cheerfulness, says Pliny, is the success of our studies— “ studia hilaritate proveniunt ”—and we may with advantage take a lesson from Theognis, who, in his Ode on the Marriage of Cadmus and Harmonia, makes the Muses sing — 1 Bacon. 43 ‘ ‘ What is good and fair, Shall ever be our care ; Thus the burden of it rang, That shall never be our care, Which is neither good nor fair. Such were the words your lips immortal sang.” There are some who seem to think that our educational system is as good as possible, and that the only remaining points of importance are the number of schools and scholars, the question of fees, the relation of voluntary and board schools, etc. “No doubt,” says Mr. Symonds, in his Sketches in Italy and Greece, “ there are many who think that when we not only advocate education but discuss the best system we are simply beating the air ; that our population is as happy and cultivated as can be, and that no substantial advance is really possible. Mr. Galton, however, has ex­ pressed the opinion, and most of those who have written on the social condition of Athens seem to agree with him, that the population of Athens, taken as a whole, was as superior to us as we are to Australian savages.” That there is, indeed, some truth in this, probably no student of Greek history will deny. Why, then, should this be so ? I cannot but think that our system of education is partly responsible. Manual and science teaching need not in any way interfere with instruction in other subjects. Though so much has been said about the importance of science and the value of technical instruction, or of hand-training, as I should prefer to call it, it is unfortunately true that in our system of education, from the highest schools downwards, both of them are sadly neglected, and the study of language reigns supreme. This is no new complaint. Ascham, in The Schoolmaster, long ago lamented it; Milton, in his letter to Mr. Samuel Hartlib, complained “ that our children are forced to stick unreasonably in these grammatick flats and shallows ; ” and observes that, “though a linguist should pride himself to have all the tongues �44 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE Babel cleft tlie world into, yet, if he have not studied the solid things in them as well as the words and lexicons, he were nothing so much to be esteemed a learned man as any yeoman or tradesman com­ petently wise in his mother dialect only ; ” and Locke said that “ schools fit us for the university rather than for the world.” Commission after commission, committee after committee, have reiterated the same complaint. How then do we stand now ? I see it indeed constantly stated that, even if the improvement is not so rapid as could be desired, still we are making considerable progress. But is this so ? I fear not. I fear that our present system does not really train the mind, or cultivate the power of observation, or even give the amount of information which we may reasonably expect from the time devoted to it. Sir M. E. Grant-Duff has expressed the opinion that a boy or girl of fourteen might reasonably be expected to “read aloud clearly and agreeably, to write a large distinct round hand, and to know the ordinary rules of arithmetic, especially compound addition — a by no cneans universal accomplishment; to speak and write French with ease and correctness, and have some slight acquaintance with French literature ; to translate ad aperturam libri from an ordinary French or German book ; to have a thoroughly good elementary knowledge of geography, under which are comprehended some notions of astronomy—enough to excite his curiosity ; a knowledge of the very broadest facts of geology and history— enough to make him understand, in a clear but perfectly general way, how the larger features of the world he lives in, physical and political, came to be like what they are ; to have been trained from earliest infancy to use his powers of observation on plants, or animals, or rocks, or other natural objects; and to have gathered a general acquaintance with what is most supremely good in that portion of the more important English classics which is suitable to his time of life; to PART I have some rudimentary acquaintance with drawing and music.” To effect this, no doubt, “industiy must be our oracle, and reason our Apollo,” as Sir T. Browne says ; but surely it is no unreasonable estimate; yet how far do we fall short of it ? General culture is often deprecated because it is said that smatterings are useless. But there is all the difference in the world between having a smattering of, or being well grounded in, a subject. It is the latter which we advocate-—to try to know, as Lord Brougham well said, “ every­ thing of something, and something of everything.” “It can hardly,” says Sir John Her­ schel, “ be pressed forcibly enough on the attention of the student of nature, that there is scarcely any natural phe­ nomenon which can be fully and com­ pletely explained, in all its circumstances, without a union of several, perhaps of all, the sciences.” The present system in most of our public schools and colleges sacrifices everything else to classics and arithmetic. They are most important subjects, but ought not to exclude science and modern languages. Moreover, after all, our sons leave college unable to speak either Latin or Greek, and too often absolutely with­ out any interest in classical history or literature. But the boy who has been educated without any training in science has grave reason to complain of “ wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.” By concentrating the attention, indeed, so much on one or two subjects, we defeat our own object, and produce a feeling of distaste where we wish to create an interest. Our great mistake in education is, as it seems to me, the worship of book­ learning—the confusion of instruction and education. We strain the memory instead of cultivating the mind. The children in our elementary schools are wearied by the mehanical act of wilting, and the interminable intricacies of spelling; they are oppressed by columns of dates �CHAP. X EDUCATION 45 by lists of kings and places, which convey man he was. I doubt, however, whether no definite idea to their minds, and have the boys were deceived by the hat ; and no near relation to their daily wants am very sceptical about Dr. Busby’s and occupations; while in our public theory of education. schools the same unfortunate results are Master John of Basingstoke, who was produced by the weary monotony of Latin Archdeacon of Leicester in 1252, learnt and Greek grammar. We ought to follow Greek during a visit to Athens, from exactly the opposite course with children Constantina, daughter of the Archbishop —to give them a wholesome variety of of Athens, and used to say afterwards mental food, and endeavour to cultivate that though he had studied well and their tastes, rather than to fill their minds diligently at the University of Paris, yet with dry facts. The important thing is he learnt more from an Athenian maiden not so much that every child should be of twenty. We cannot all study so taught, as that every child should be pleasantly as this, but the main fault given the wish to learn. What does it I find with Dr. Busby’s system is that matter if the pupil knows a little more or it keeps out of sight the great fact of a little less ? A boy who leaves school human ignorance. knowing much, but hating his lessons, Boys are given the impression that will soon have forgotten almost all he the masters know everything. If, on the ever learnt; while another who had contrary, the great lesson impressed on acquired a thirst for knowledge, even if them was that what we know is as nothing he had learnt little, would soon teach to what we do not know, that the “great himself more than the first ever knew. ocean of truth lies all undiscovered before Children are by nature eager for informa­ us,” surely this would prove a great tion. They are always putting questions. stimulus, and many would be nobly This ought to be encouraged. In fact, anxious to enlarge the boundaries of we may to a great extent trust to their human knowledge, and extend the in­ instincts, and in that case they will do I tellectual kingdom of man. Philosophy, much to educate themselves. Too often, says Aristotle, begins in wonder, for Iris however, the acquirement of knowledge is the child of Thaumas. is placed before them in a form so irk­ Education ought not to cease w’hen we some and fatiguing that all desire for leave school; but if well begun there, information is choked, or even crushed will continue through life. out; so that our schools, in fact, become Moreover, whatever our occupation places for the discouragement of learning, or profession in life may be, it is most and thus produce the very opposite effect desirable to create for ourselves some from that at which we aim. In short, other special interest. In the choice of children should be trained to observe and a subject every one should consult his to think, for in that way there would own instincts and interests. I will not be opened out to them a source of the attempt to suggest whether it is better to purest enjoyment for leisure hours, and pursue art or science ; whether we should the wisest judgment in the work of study the motes in the sunbeam, or the life. heavenly bodies themselves. Whatever Another point in which I venture to may be the subject of our choice, we shall think that our system of education might find enough, and more than enough, to be amended, is that it tends at present repay the devotion of a lifetime. to give the impression that everything is Life no doubt is paved with enjoyments, known. but we must all expect times of anxiety, Dr. Busby is said to have kept his of suffering, and of sorrow ; and when hat on in the presence of King Charles, these come it is an inestimable comfort to that the boys might see what a great have some deep interest which will, at �46 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE any rate to some extent, enable us to escape from ourselves. “ A cultivated mind,” says Mill—“ I do not mean that of a philosopher, but any mind to which the fountains of knowledge have been opened, and which has been taught in any tolerable degree to exercise its faculties—will find sources of inex­ haustible interest in all that surrounds it; in the objects of nature, the achieve­ ments of art, the imaginations of poetry, the incidents of history, the ways of man­ kind, past and present, and their prospects in the future. It is possible, indeed, to become indifferent to all this, and that too without having exhausted a thousandth part of it ; but only when one has had from the beginning no moral or human interest in these things, and has sought in them only the gratification of curiosity.” I have been subjected to some goodnatured banter for having said that I looked forward to a time when our artizans and mechanics would be great readers. But it is surely not unreasonable to regard our social condition as susceptible of great im­ provement. The spread of schools, the cheapness of books, the establishment of free libraries will, it may be hoped, exercise a civilising and ennobling influence. They will even, I believe, do much to diminish poverty and suffering, so much of which is due to ignorance and to the want of interest and brightness in uneducated life. So far as our elementary schools are con­ cerned, there is no doubt much difficulty in apportioning the National Grant without unduly stimulating mere mechanical in­ struction. But this is not the place to dis­ PART I cuss the subject of religious or moral train­ ing, or the system of apportioning the grant. If we succeed in giving the love of learn­ ing, the learning itself is sure to follow. We should therefore endeavour to edu­ cate our children so that every country walk may be a pleasure ; that the dis­ coveries of science may be a living interest; that our national history and poetry may be sources of legitimate pride and rational enjoyment. In short, our schools, if they are to be worthy of the name—if they are to fulfil their high function—must be something more than mere places of dry study ; they must train the children edu­ cated in them so that they may be able to appreciate and enjoy those intellectual gifts which might be, and ought to be, a source of interest and of happiness, alike to the high and to the low, to the rich and to the poor. A wise system of education will at least teach us how little man yet knows, how much he has still to learn ; it will enable us to realise that those ■who com­ plain of the tiresome monotony of life have only themselves to' blame ; and that knowledge is pleasure as well as power. It will lead us all to try with Milton “ to behold the bright countenance of truth in the quiet and still air of study,” and to feel with Bacon that “no pleasure is com­ parable to the standing upon the vantage ground of truth.” We should then indeed realise in part, for as yet we cannot do so fully, the “ sacred trusts of health, strength, and time,” and how thankful we ought to be for the inestimable gift of life. �PAET II ��PREFACE “ And what is writ, is writ— Would it were worthier.” Byron. Herewith I launch the conclusion of my subject. Perhaps I am unwise in publishing a second part. The first was so kindly received that I am running a risk in attempting to add to it. In the preface, however, to the first part I have expressed the hope that the thoughts and quotations in which I have found most comfort and delight, might be of use to others also. In this my most sanguine hopes have been more than realised. Not only has the book passed through twenty editions in less than three years, but the many letters which I have received have been most gratifying. Two criticisms have been repeated by several of those who have done me the honor, of noticing my previous volume. It has been said in the first place that my life has been exceptionally bright and full, and that I cannot therefore judge for others. Nor do I attempt to do so. I do not forget, I hope I am not ungrateful for, all that has been bestowed on me. But if I have been greatly favoured, ought I not to be on that very account especially qualified to write on such a theme 1 Moreover, I have had,—who has not,— my own sorrows. Again, some have complained that there is too much quotation—too little of my own. This I take to be in reality a great compliment. I have not striven to be original. If, as I have been assured by many, my book has added to their power of enjoying life, and has proved a comfort in the hours of darkness, that is indeed an ample reward and is the utmost I have ever hoped. High Elms, Down, Kent, April 1889. E �CONTENTS PART II CHAP. I. Ambition .... 51 II. Wealth .... 54 III. Health .... IV. Love .... V. Art .... 65 .... 70 .... 74 VI. Poetry •VII. Music VIII. The Beauties of Nature IX. The Troubles of Life . X. Labour and Rest XI. Religion . XII. The Hope of Progress . XIII. The Destiny of Man 56 61 79 86 89 92 98 102 �THE PLEASURES OF LIFE PART II CHAPTER I I know, says Morris, “ How far high failure overleaps the bound Of low successes.” AMBITION “ Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights and live laborious days.” Milton. If fame be the last infirmity of noble minds, ambition is often the first ; though, when properly directed, it may be no feeble aid to virtue. Had not my youthful mind, says Cicero, “ from many precepts, from many writings, drunk in this truth, that glory and virtue ought to be the darling, nay, the only wish in life; that, to attain these, the torments of the flesh, with the perils of death and exile, are to be despised ; never had I exposed my person in so many encounters, and to these daily conflicts with the worst of men, for your deliverance. But, on this head, books are full; the voice of the wise is full; the examples of antiquity are full: and all these the night of barbarism had still enveloped, had it not been enlightened by the sun of science.” The poet tells us that “The many fail: the one succeeds.”1 And Bacon assures us that “ if a man look sharp and attentively he shall see fortune; for though she is blind, she is not invisible.” To give ourselves a reasonable prospect of success, we must realise what we hope to achieve ; and then make the most of our opportunities. Of these the use of time is one of the most important. What have we to do with time, asks Oliver Wendell Holmes, but to fill it up with labour. “At the battle of Montebello,” said Napoleon, “I ordered Kellermann to attack with 800 horse, and with these he separated the 6000 Hungarian grenadiers before the very eyes of the Austrian cavalry. This cavalry was half a league off, and required a quarter of an hour to arrive on the field of action ; and I have observed that it is always these quarters of an hour that decide the fate of a battle,” including, we may add, the battle of life. Nor must we spare ourselves in other ways, for “ He who thinks in strife To earn a deathless fame, must do, nor ever care for life.” 1 But this is scarcely true. All succeed who deserve, though not perhaps as they hoped. An honourable defeat is better than a mean victory, and no one is really the worse for being beaten, unless he loses heart. Though we may not be able to attain, that is no reason why we should not aspire. In the excitement of the struggle, moreover, he will suffer comparatively little from wounds and blows which would otherwise cause intense pain. It is well to weigh scrupulously the object in view, to run as little risk as may be, to count the cost with care. 1 Tennyson. 1 Beowulf. �52 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE But when the mind is once made up, there must be no looking back, you must spare yourself no labour, nor shrink from danger. “ He either fears his fate too much Or his deserts are small, That dares not put it to the touch To gain or lose it all.” 1 Glory, says Renan, “is after all the thing which has the best chance of not being altogether vanity.” But what is glory ? Marcus Aurelius observes that “ a spider is proud when it has caught a fly, a man when he has caught a hare, another when he has taken a little fish in a net, another when he has taken wild boars, another when he has taken bears, and another when he has taken Sarmatians ; ”2 but this, if from one point of view it shows the vanity of lame, also encourages us with the evidence that every one may succeed if his objects are but reasonable. Alexander may be taken as almost a type of Ambition in its usual form, though carried to an extreme. His desire was to conquer, not to in­ herit or to rule. When news was brought that his father Philip had taken some town, or won some battle, instead of being delighted, he used to say to his companions, “ My father will go on con­ quering, till there be nothing extra­ ordinary left for you and me to do.”3 He is said even to have been mortified at the number of the stars, considering that he had not been able to conquer one world. Such ambition is justly fore­ doomed to disappointment. The remarks of Philosophers on the vanity of ambition refer generally to that unworthy form of which Alexander may be taken as the type—the idea of self­ exaltation, not only without any reference to the happiness, but even regardless of the sufferings, of others. “A continual and restless search after 1 Montrose. 2 He is referring here to one of his expeditions. 3 Plutarch. PART II fortune,” says Bacon, “ takes up too much of their time who have nobler things to observe.” Indeed he elsewhere extends this, and adds that “No man’s private fortune can be an end in any way worthy of his existence.” Goethe well observes that man “ exists for culture; not for what he can accom­ plish, but for what can be accomplished in him.” 1 As regards fame, we must not confuse name and essence. To be remembered is not necessarily to be famous. There is infamy as well as fame; and unhappily almost as many are remembered for the one as for the other, and not a few for a mixture of both. Who would not, however, rather be forgotten, than recollected as Ahab or Jezebel, Nero or Commodus, Messalina or Heliogabalus, King John or Richard III.? “To be nameless in worthy deeds ex­ ceeds an infamous history. The Canaanitish woman lives more happily without a name than Herodias with one ; and ■who would not rather have been the good thief than Pilate ? ” 2 Kings and Generals are often remem­ bered as much- for their misfortunes as for their successes, for their deaths as for their lives. The Hero of Thermopylae was Leonidas, not Xerxes. Alexander’s Empire fell to pieces at his death. Napoleon was a great genius, though no Hero. But what came of all his victories ? They passed away like the smoke of his guns and he left France weaker, poorer, and smaller than he found her. The most lasting result of his genius is no military glory, but the Code Napoleon. A surer and more glorious title to fame is that of those who are remembered for some act of justice or self-devotion: the self-sacrifice of Leonidas, the good faith of Regulus, are the glories of history. In some cases where men have been called after places, the men are remem­ bered, while the places are forgotten. When we speak of Palestrina or Perugino, 1 Emerson. 2 Sir T. Browne. �CHAP. I AMBITION of Nelson or Wellington, of Newton or Darwin, who remembers the towns ? We think only of the men. Goethe has been called the soul of his century. We have but meagre biographies of Shakespeare or of Plato • yet how’ much we know about them. Statesmen and Generals enjoy great celebrity during their lives. The news­ papers chronicle every word and move­ ment. But the fame of the Philosopher and Poet is more enduring. Wordsworth deprecates monuments to Poets, with some exceptions, on this very account. The case of Statesmen, he says, is different. It is right to commemorate them because they might otherwise be forgotten ; but Poets live in their books for ever. The real conquerors of the world in­ deed are not the generals but the thinkers ; not Genghis Khan and Akbar, Barneses, or Alexander, but Confucius and Buddha, Aristotle, Plato, and Christ. The rulers and kings wrho reigned over our ancestors have for the most part long since sunk into oblivion—they are for­ gotten for want of some sacred bard to give them life—or are remembered, like Suddhodana and Pilate, from their associ­ ation with higher spirits. Such men’s lives cannot be compressed into any biography. They lived not merely in their own generation, but for all time. When we speak of the Eliza­ bethan period we think of Shakespeare and Bacon, Raleigh and Spenser. The ministers and secretaries of state, with one or two exceptions, we scarcely re­ member, and Bacon himself is recollected less as the Judge than as the Philosopher. Moreover, to what do Generals and Statesmen owe their fame? They were celebrated for their deeds, but to the Poet and the Historian they are indebted for their immortality, and to the Poet and Historian we owe their glorious memories and the example of their virtues. ‘ ‘ Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona Multi; sed omnes illacrimabiles 53 Urgentur ignotique Tonga Nocte, carent quia vate sacro.” Montrose happily combined the tw*o, when in “ My dear and only love ” he promises, “ I’ll make thee famous by my pen, And glorious by my sword.” It is remarkable, and encouraging, how many of the greatest men have risen from the lowest rank, and triumphed over obstacles which might well have seemed insurmountable; nay, even ob­ scurity itself may be a source of honour. The very doubts as to Homer’s birthplace have contributed to his glory, seven cities as we all know laying claim to the great poet— “Smyrna, Rhodos, Colophon, Salamis, Chios, Argos, Athenaj.” Take men of Science only. Ray was the son of a blacksmith, Watt of a ship­ wright, Franklin of a tallow-chandler, Dalton of a handloom weaver, Fraunhofer of a glazier, Laplace of a farmer, Linnseus of a poor curate, Faraday of a blacksmith, Lamarck of a banker’s clerk ; George Stephenson wras a working collier, Davy an apothecary’s assistant, Wheatstone a musicalinstrumentmaker; Galileo, Kepler, Sprengel, Cuvier, and Sir W. Herschel were all children of very poor parents. It is, on the other hand, sad to think how many of our greatest benefactors are unknown even by name. Who discovered the art of procuring fire ? Prometheus is merely the personification of forethought. Who invented letters ? Cadmus is a mere name. These inventions, indeed, are lost in the mists of antiquity, but even as re­ gards recent progress the steps are often so gradual, and so numerous, that few in­ ventions can be attributed entirely, or even mainly, to any one person. Columbus is said, and truly said, to have discovered America, though the Northmen were there before him. We Englishmen have every reason to be proud of our fellow-countrymen. To �54 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE PART II take Philosophers and men of Science what as the years roll on, does add to the only, Bacon and Hobbes, Locke and comfort of life. But this is of course on Berkeley, Hume and Hamilton, will the supposition that you are master of always be associated with the progress of your money, that the money is not master human thought; Newton with gravita­ of you. tion, Adam Smith with Political Economy, Unquestionably the possession of wealth Young with the undulatory theory of is attended by many drawbacks. Money light, Herschel with the discovery of and the love of money often go together. Uranus and the study of the star depths, The poor man, as Emerson says, is the Lord Worcester, Trevethick, and Watt man who wishes to be rich ; and the more with the steam-engine, Wheatstone with a man has, the more he often longs to the electric telegraph, Jenner with the be richer. Just as drinking often does banishment of smallpox, Simpson with but increase thirst; so in many cases the the practical application of anaesthetics, craving for riches grows with wealth and Darwin with the creation of modern This is, of course, especially the case Natural History. when money is sought for its own sake. These men, and such as these, have Moreover, it is often easier to make money made our history and moulded our than to keep or to enjoy it. Keeping it opinions ; and though during life they is dull and anxious drudgery. The dread may have occupied, comparatively, an of loss may hang like a dark cloud over insignificant space in the eyes of their life. Seneca tells us that when Apicius countrymen, they became at length an had squandered most of his patrimony, irresistible power, and have now justly but had still 250,000 crowns left, he grown to a glorious memory. committed suicide, for fear he should die of hunger. Wealth is certainly no sinecure. More­ over, the value of money depends partly CHAPTER II on knowing what to do with it, partly WEALTH on the manner in which it is acquired. “ Acquire money, thy friends say, that “ The rich and poor meet together : the Lord is the maker of them all.” — Proverbs of we also may have some. If I can acquire money and also keep myself modest, and Solomon. faithful, and magnanimous, point out the Ambition often takes the form of a love way, and I will acquire it. But if you of money. There are many who have ask me to lose the things which are good never attempted Art or Music, Poetry or and my own, in order that you may gain Science ; but most people do something things that are not good, see how unfair for a livelihood, and consequently an and unwise you are. For which would increase of income is not only acceptable you rather have? Money, or a faithful in itself, but gives a pleasant feeling of and modest friend. . . . success. ■“What hinders a man, who has clearly Doubt is indeed often expressed whether comprehended these things, from living wealth is any advantage. I do not my­ with a light heart, and bearing easily the self believe that those who are born, as reins, quietly expecting everything which the saying is, with a silver spoon in their can happen, and enduring that which has mouth, are necessarily any the happier for already happened ? Would you have me it. No doubt wealth entails almost more to bear poverty ? Come, and you will labour than poverty, and certainly more know what poverty is when it has found anxiety. Still it must, I think, be con­ one who can act well the part of a poor fessed that the possession of an income, man.” 1 whatever it may be, which increases some­ 1 Epictetus. �CHAP. II WEALTH We must bear in mind Solon’s answer to Croesus, “ Sir, if any other come that hath better iron than you, he will be master of all this gold.” Midas is another case in point. He prayed that everything he touched might be turned into gold, and this prayer was granted. His wine turned to gold, his bread turned to gold, his clothes, his very bed. “Attonitus novitate mali, divesque miserque, Effugere optat opes, et quse modo voverat, odit.” He is by no means the only man who has suffered from too much gold. The real truth I take to be that wealth is not necessarily an advantage, but that whether it is so or not depends on the use we make of it. The same, however, might be said of most other opportunities and privileges ; Knowledge and Strength, Beauty and Skill, may all be abused ; if we neglect or misuse them we are worse off than if we had never had them. Wealth is only a disadvantage in the hands of those who do not know how to use it. It gives the command of so many other things—leisure, the power of helping others, books, works of art, opportunities and means of travel. It would, however, be easy to exagger­ ate the advantages of money. It is well worth having, and worth working for, but it does not requite too great a sacri­ fice ; not indeed so great as is often offered up to it. A wise proverb tells us that gold may be bought too dear. If wealth is to be valued because it gives leisure, clearly it would be a mistake to sacrifice leisure in the struggle for wealth. Money has no doubt also a tendency to make men poor in spirit. But, on the other hand, what gift is there which is without danger ? Euripides said that money finds friends for men, and has great (he said the greatest) power among Mankind, cynically adding, “ Mighty indeed is a rich man, especially if his heir be unknown.” Bossuet tells us that “he had no attachment to riches, still if he had only 55 what was barely necessary, he felt him­ self narrowed, and would lose more than half his talents.” Shelley was certainly not an avaricious man, and yet “ I desire money,” he said, “ because I think I know the use of it. It commands labour, it gives leisure ; and to give leisure to those who will employ it in the forwarding of truth is the noblest present an individual can make to the whole.” Many will have felt with Pepys when he quaintly and piously says, “ Abroad with my wife, the first time that ever I rode in my own coach ; which do make my heart rejoice and praise God, and pray him to bless it to me, and continue it.” This, indeed, was a somewhat selfish satisfaction. Yet the merchant need not quit nor be ashamed of his profession, bearing in mind only the inscription on the Church of St. Giacomo de Bialto at Venice: “ Around this temple let the merchant’s law be just, his weights true, and his covenants faithful.” 1 If, however, life has been sacrificed to the rolling up of money for its own sake, the very means by which it was acquired will prevent its being enjoyed ; the chill of poverty will have entered into the very bones. The miser deprives himself of everything, for fear lest some day he should be deprived of something. The term Miser was happily chosen for such persons ; they are essentially miserable. “ A collector peeps into all the picture shops of Europe for a landscape of Poussin, a crayon sketch of Salvator; but the Transfiguration, the Last Judgment, the Communion of St. Jerome, and what are as transcendent as these, are on the walls of the Vatican, the Uffizi, or the Louvre, where every footman may see them ; to say nothing of Nature’s pictures in every street, of sunsets and sunrises every day, and the sculpture of the human body never absent. A collector recently bought at public auction in London, for one hundred and fifty-seven guineas, an auto­ graph of Shakespeare : but for nothing a 1 Ruskin. �56 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE schoolboy can read Hamlet, and can detect secrets of highest concernment yet un­ published therein.”1 And yet “What hath the owner but the sight of it with his eyes.” 2 We are really richer than we think. We often hear of Earth hunger. People envy a great Landlord, and fancy how delightful it must be to possess a large estate. But, too often, as Emerson says, “if you own land, the land owns you.” Moreover, have we not all, in a better sense—have we not all thousands of acres of our own ? The commons, and roads, and footpaths, and the seashore, our grand and varied coast—these are all ours. The sea-coast has, moreover, two great advantages. In the first place, it is for the most part but little interfered with by man, and in the second it exhibits most instructively the forces of Nature. We are, indeed, all great landed pro­ prietors, if we only knew it. What we lack is not land, but the power to enjoy it. This great inheritance has the additional advantage that it entails no labour, requires no management. The landlord has the trouble, but the landscape belongs to every one who has eyes to see it. Thus Kingsley called the heaths round Eversley his “ winter garden ” ; not because they were his in the eye of the law, but in that higher sense in which ten thousand persons may own the same thing. CHAPTER III HEALTH “ Health is best for mortal man ; next beauty ; thirdly, well gotten wealth ; fourthly, the pleasure of youth among friends.” Simonides. But if there has been some difference of opinion as to the advantage of wealth, with reference to health all are agreed. “Health,” said Simonides long ago, “is best for mortal man ; next beauty ; thirdly, well gotten wealth ; fourthly, the pleasure 1 Emerson. 2 Solomon. PART II of youth among friends.” “Life, ’ says Longfellow, “ without health is a burden, with health is a joy and gladness.” Em­ pedocles delivered the people of Selinus from a pestilence by draining a marsh, and was hailed as a Demigod. We are told that a coin was struck in his honour, re­ presenting the Philosopher in the act of staying the hand of Phoebus. We scarcely realise, I think, how much we owe to Doctors. Our system of Medi­ cine seems so natural and obvious that it hardly occurs to us as something new and exceptional. When we are ill we send for a Physician ; he prescribes some medicine ; we take it, and pay his fee. But among the lower races of men pain and illness are often attributed to the presence of evil spirits. The Medicine Man is a Priest, or rather a Sorcerer, more than a true Doctor, and his effort is to exorcise the evil Spirit. In other countries where some advance has been made, a charm is written on a board, washed off, and drunk. In some cases the medicine is taken, not by the patient, but by the Doctor. Such a sys­ tem, however, is generally transient; it is naturally discouraged by the Profession, and is indeed incompatible with a large practice. Even as regards the payment we find very different- systems. The Chinese pay their medical man as long as they are well, and stop his salary as soon as they are ill. In ancient Egypt we are told that the patient feed the Doctor for the first few days, after which the Doctor paid the patient until he made him well. This is a fascinating system, but might afford too much temptation to heroic remedies. On the whole our plan seems the best, though it does not offer adequate encour­ agement to discovery and research. There is probably some cure for cancer if we did but know it. If, however, the substantial rewards of discovery are inadequate, we ought to be all the more grateful to such men as Hunter and Jenner, Simpson and Lister. And yet in the matter of health we can generally do more for ourselves than the greatest Doctors can for us. But if all are agreed as to the blessing �CHAP. Ill HEALTH of health, there are many who will not take the little trouble, or submit to the slight sacrifices, necessary to maintain it. Many, indeed, deliberately ruin their own health, and incur the certainty of an early grave, or an old age of suffering. No doubt some inherit a constitution which renders health almost unattainable. Pope spoke of that long disease, his life. Many indeed may say, 111 suffer, therefore I am.” But happily these cases are excep­ tional. Most of us might be well, if we would. It is very much our own fault that we are ill. We do those things which we ought not to do, and we leave undone those things which we ought to have done, and then we wonder that there is no health in us. Like Naaman, we expect our health to be the subject of some miraculous interfer­ ence, and neglect the homely precautions by which it might be secured. We all know that we can make ourselves ill, but few perhaps realise how much we can do to keep ourselves well. Much of our suffering is self-inflicted. It has been observed that among the ancient Egyptians it seemed the chief aim of life to be well buried. Many, however, live even now as if this were the principal object of their existence. I am inclined to doubt whether the study of health is sufficiently impressed on the minds of those entering life. Not that it is desirable to potter over minor ailments, to con over books on illnesses, or experiment on ourselves with medicine. Far from it. The less we fancy ourselves ill, or bother about little bodily discom­ forts, the more likely perhaps we are to preserve our health. It is, however, a different matter to study the general conditions of health. A well-known proverb tells us that, by the time he is forty, every one is either a fool or a physician. Unfortunately, however, many persons are invalids at forty as well as physicians. Ill-health, however, is no excuse for moroseness. If we have one disease we may at least congratulate ourselves that 57 we are escaping all the rest. Sydney Smith, ever ready to look on the bright side of things even when borne down by suffering, wrote to a friend that he had gout, asthma, and seven other maladies, but was “otherwise very well”; and many of the greatest invalids have borne their sufferings with cheerfulness and good spirits. It is said that the celebrated physiog­ nomist, Campanella, could so abstract his attention from any sufferings of his body, that he was even able to endure the rack without much pain ; and whoever has the power of concentrating his attention and controlling his will, can emancipate him­ self from most of the minor miseries of life. He may have much cause for anxiety, his body may be the seat of severe suffer­ ing, and yet his mind will remain serene and unaffected ; he may triumph over care and pain. It is sad to think how much unnecessary suffering has been caused, and how many valuable lives have been lost, through ignorance or carelessness. We cannot but fancy that the lives of many great men might have been much prolonged by the exercise of a little ordinary care. If we take musicians only, what a grievous loss to the world it is that Pergolesi should have died at twenty-six, Schubert at thirty-one, Mozart at thirtyfive, Purcell at thirty-seven, and Mendels­ sohn at thirty-eight. In the old Greek myth the life of Meleager was indissolubly connected by fate with the existence of a particular log of wood. As long as this was kept safe by Althaea, his mother, Meleager bore a charmed life. It seems wonderful that we do not watch with equal care over our body, on the state of which happiness so much depends. The requisites of health are plain enough: regular habits, daily exercise, cleanliness, and moderation in all things —in eating as well as in drinking—would keep most people well. I need not here dwell on the evils of alcohol, but we perhaps scarcely realise �THE PLEASURES OF LIFE how much of the suffering and ill-humour of life is due to over-eating. Dyspepsia, for instance, from which so many suffer, is in nine cases out of ten their own fault, and arises from the combination of too much food with too little exercise. To lengthen your life, says an old proverb, shorten your meals. Plain living and high thinking will secure health for most of us, though it matters, perhaps, com­ paratively little what a healthy man eats, so long as he does not eat too much# “ Go to your banquet then, but use delight, So as to rise still with an appetite.”1 Mr. Gladstone has told us that the splendid health he enjoys is greatly due to his having early learnt one simple physiological maxim, and laid it down as a rule for himself always to make twentyfive bites at every bit of meat. No doubt, however, though the rule not to eat or drink too much is simple enough in theory, it is not quite so easy in applica­ tion. There have been many Esaus who have sold their birthright of health for a mess of pottage. Yet, though it may seem paradoxical, it is certainly true, that in the long run the moderate man will derive more enjoy­ ment even from eating and drinking, than the glutton or the drunkard will ever obtain. They know not what it is to enjoy “the exquisite taste of common dry bread.” 2 Even then if we were to consider merely the pleasure to be derived from eating and drinking, the same rule would hold good. A lunch of bread and cheese after a good walk is more enjoyable than a Lord Mayor’s feast. Without wishing, like Apicius, for the neck of a stork, so as to enjoy our dinner longer, we must not be ungrateful for the enjoyment we derive from eating and drinking, even though they be amongst the least aesthetic of our pleasures. They are homely, no doubt, but they come morning, noon, and night, and are not the less real Herrick, 2 Hamerton. PART II because they have reference to the body rather than the soul. We speak truly of a healthy appetite, for it is a good test of our bodily condi­ tion ; and indeed in some cases of our mental state also. That “ There cometh no good thing Apart from toil to mortals,” is especially true with reference to appe­ tite ; to sit down to a dinner, however simple, after a walk with a friend among the mountains or along the shore, is a pleasure not to be despised. Cheerfulness and good humour, more­ over, during meals are not only pleasant in themselves, but conduce greatly to health. It has been said that hunger is the best sauce, but most would prefer some good stories at a feast even to a good appetite; and who would not like to have it said of him, as of Biron by Rosaline— “A merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour’s talk withal.” In the three great “Banquets” of Plato, Xenophon, and Plutarch, the food is not even mentioned. In the words of the old Lambeth adage— “ What is a merry man ? Let him do all he can To entertain his guests With wine and pleasant jests, Yet if his wife do frown All merryment goes down.” What salt is to food, wit and humour are to conversation and literature. “You do not,” an amusing writer in the Cornhill has said, “expect humour in Thomas a Kempis or the Hebrew Prophets”; but we have Solomon’s authority that there is a time to laugh, as well as to weep. “ To read a good comedy is to keep the best company in the world, when the best things are said,* and the most amus­ ing things happen.” 1 It is not without reason that every one 1 Hazlitt. �HEALTH CHAP. Ill resents the imputation of being unable to see a joke. Laughter appears to be the special prerogative of man. The higher animals present us with proofs of evident, if not highly-developed reasoning power, but it is more than doubtful whether they are capable of appreciating a joke. Wit, moreover, has solved many diffi­ culties and decided many controversies. “ Ridicule shall frequently prevail, And cut the knot when graver reasons fail.” 1 The most wasted of all days, says Chamfort, is that on which one has not laughed. A careless song, says Walpole, “with a little nonsense in it now and then, does not misbecome a monarch ; ” but it is difficult now to realise that James I. should have regarded skill in punning in his selection of bishops and privy coun­ cillors. It is no small merit of laughter that it is quite spontaneous. “You cannot force people to laugh ; you cannot give a reason why they should laugh; they must laugh of themselves or not at all. . . . If we think we must not laugh, this makes our temptation to laugh the greater.”2 Humour is, moreover, con­ tagious. A witty man may say, as Falstaff does of himself, “ I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men.” One may paraphrase the well-known remark about port wine and say that some jokes may be better than others, but anything which makes one laugh is good. “After all,” says Dryden, “it is a good thing to laugh at any rate ; and if a straw can tickle a man, it is an instrument of happiness,” and I may add, of health. I have been told that in omitting any mention of smoking I was overlooking one of the real pleasures of life. Not being a smoker myself I cannot perhaps judge ; much must depend on the in­ dividual temperament ; to some nervous natures it certainly appears to be a great 1 Francis. 2 Hazlitt. 59 comfort; but I have my doubts whether smoking, as a general rule, does add to the pleasures of life. It must, at any rate, detract somewhat from the sensitive­ ness of taste and of smell. Those who live in cities may almost lay it down as a rule that no time spent out of doors is ever wasted. Fresh air is a cordial of incredible virtue ; old families are in all senses county families, not town families ; and those who prefer Homer and Plato and Shakespeare to rivers and forests and mountains must beware that they are not tempted to neglect this great requisite of our nature. An Oriental traveller, having been taken to watch a game of cricket, was astonished at hearing that many of those playing were rich men. He asked why they did not pay some poor people to do it for them. Most Englishmen, however, love open air, and it is probably true that most of us enjoy a game at cricket or golf more than looking at any of the old masters. The love of sport is engraven in the English character. As was said of William Rufus, “ he loves the tall deer as if he had been their father.” Wordsworth made it a rule to go out every day, and used to say that as he never consulted the weather, he never had to consult the physicians. It always seems to be raining harder than it really is when you look at the weather through the window. Even in winter, though the landscape often seems cheerless and bare enough when you look at it from the fireside, still it is far better to go out, even if you have to brave the storm : when you are once out of doors the touch of earth and the breath of the fresh air will give you new life and energy. Men, like trees, live in great part on air. After a gallop over the downs, a row on the river, a sea voyage, a walk by the seashore or in the woods, “ The blue above, the music in the air, The flowers upon the ground,” 1 1 Trench. �6o THE PLEASURES OF LIFE one feels as if one could say with Henry IV., “ Je me porte comme le Pont Neuf.” The Roman proverb that a child should be taught nothing which he cannot learn standing up, went no doubt into one extreme, but surely we fall into another when we act as if games were the only thing which boys could learn upon their feet. The love of games among boys is indeed a healthy instinct, and though carried too far in some of our great schools, there can be no question that cricket and football, fives and hockey, bathing and boating, are not only among the greatest pleasures, but the best medi­ cines, for boys. We cannot always secure sleep. When important decisions have to be taken, the natural anxiety to come to a right decision will often keep us awake. Nothing, however, is more conducive to healthy sleep than plenty of open air. Then in­ deed we can enjoy the fresh life of the early morning : “ the breezy call of in­ cense-breathing mom.”1 “ At morn the blackcock trims his jetty wing, ’Tis morning prompts the linnet’s blithest lay,, All Nature’s children feel the matin spring Of life reviving, with reviving day.” Epictetus described himself as “ a spirit bearing about a corpse.” That seems to me an ungrateful description. Surely we ought to cherish the body, even if it be but a frail and humble companion. Do we not owe to the eye our enjoyment of the beauties of this world and the glories of the Heavens ; to the ear the voices of friends and all the delights of music ; are not the hands most faithful and invaluable instruments, ever ready in case of need, ever willing to do our bidding ? and even the feet bear us with­ out a murmur along the roughest and stoniest paths of life. With reasonable care, most of us may hope to enjoy good health. And yet what a marvellous and complex organisa­ tion we have! 1 Gray. PART II We are indeed fearfully and wonder­ fully made. It is “ Strange that a harp of a thousand strings Should keep in tune so long.” When we consider the marvellous com­ plexity of our bodily organisation, it seems a miracle that we should live at all; much more that the innumerable organs and processes should continue day after day and year after year with so much regularity and so little friction that we are sometimes scarcely conscious of having a body at all. And yet in that body we have more than 200 bones, of complex and varied forms, any irregularity in, or injury to, which would of course grievously inter­ fere with our movements. We have over 500 muscles ; each nourished by almost innumerable blood­ vessels, and regulated by nerves. One of our muscles, the heart, beats over 30,000,000 times in a year, and if it once stops, all is over. In the skin are wonderfully varied and complex organs—for instance, over 2,000,000 perspiration glands, which regulate the temperature, communicating with the surface by ducts which have a total length of some ten miles. Think of the miles of arteries and veins, of capillaries and nerves ; of the blood, with the millions of millions of blood corpuscles, each a microcosm in itself. Think of the organs of sense,—the eye with its cornea and lens, vitreous humour, aqueous humour, and choroid, culminating in the retina, no thicker than a sheet of paper, and yet consisting of nine distinct layers, the innermost composed of rods and cones, supposed to be the immediate recipients of the undulations of light, and so numerous that in each eye the cones are estimated at over 3,000,000, the rods at over 30,000,000. Above all, and most wonderful of all, the brain itself. Meinert has calculated that the gray matter alone contains no less than 600,000,000 cells ; each cell consists of several thousand visible mole- �LOVE CHAP. IV cules, and each molecule again of many millions of atoms. And yet, with reasonable care, we can most of us keep this wonderful organisa­ tion in health, so that it will work with­ out causing us pain, or even discomfort, for many years ; and we may hope that even when old age comes “ Time may lay his hand Upon your heart gently, not smiting it, But as a harper lays his open palm Upon his harp, to deaden its vibrations.” 61 To this a look, to that a word, dispenses, And, whether stern or smiling, loves them still;— So Providence for us, high, infinite, Makes our necessities its watchful task, Hearkens to all our prayers, helps all our wants, And e’en if it denies what seems our right, Either denies because ’twould have us ask, Or seems but to deny, and in denying grants.”1 Sir Walter Scott well says— “And if there be a human tear From passion’s dross 2 refined and clear, ’Tis that which pious fathers shed Upon a duteous daughter’s head.” Epaminondas is said to have given as his main reason for rejoicing at the victory of Leuctra, that it would give so much LOVE pleasure to his father and mother. “ £)tre avec ceux qu’on aime, cela suffit.” Nor must the love of animals be La Bruy1:re. altogether omitted. It is impossible not Love is the light and sunshine of life. to sympathise with the Savage when he We cannot fully enjoy ourselves, or any­ believes in their immortality, and thinks thing else, unless some one we love enjoys that after death it with us. Even if we are alone, w’e “Admitted to that equal sky, His faithful dog shall bear him company.” 3 store up our enjoyment in hope of shar­ ing it hereafter with those wre love. In the Mahabharata, the great Indian Love lasts through life, and adapts Epic, when the family of Pandavas, the itself to every age and circumstance ; in heroes, at length reach the gates of childhood for father and mother, in man­ heaven, they are welcomed themselves, hood for wife, in age for children, and but are told that their dog cannot come throughout for brothers and sisters, re­ in. Having pleaded in vain, they turn lations and friends. The strength of to depart, as they say they can never friendship is indeed proverbial, and in leave their faithful companion. Then at some cases, as in that of David and the last moment the Angel at the door Jonathan, is described as surpassing the relents, and their Dog is allowed to enter love of women. But I need not now with them. refer to it, having spoken already of what We may hope the time will come when we owe to friends. we shall learn The goodness of Providefice to man has to blend or our pride, been often compared to that of fathers “Never sorrow of our pleasure thing that feels.” 4 With the meanest and mothers for their children. But at the present moment I am speak­ “ Just as a mother, with sweet, pious face, ing rather of the love which leads to mar­ Yearns towards her little children from her riage. Such love is the music of life, nay, seat, Gives one a kiss, another an embrace, “there is music in the beauty, and the Takes this upon her knees, that on her silent note of love, far sweeter than the feet; sound of any instrument.” 5 And while from actions, looks, complaints, CHAPTER IV pretences, She learns their feelings and their various will, 1 Filicaja. Translated by Leigh Hunt. 2 Not from passion itself. 3 Pope. 4 Wor ds worth. 5 Browne. �62 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE The Symposium of Plato contains an in­ teresting and amusing disquisition on Love. “ Love,” Ph sod r us is made to say, “ will make men dare to die for their beloved— love alone ; and women as well as men. Of this, Alcestis, the daughter of Pelias, is a monument to all Hellas ; for she was willing to lay down her life on behalf of her husband, when no one else would, although he had a father and mother ; but the tenderness of her love so far ex­ ceeded theirs, that she made them seem to be strangers in blood to their own son, and in name only related to him ; and so noble did this action of hers appear to the gods, as well as to men, that among the many who have done virtuously she is one of the very few to whom they have granted the privilege of returning to earth, in admiration of her virtue ; such exceed­ ing honour is paid by them to the devo­ tion and virtue of love.” Agathon is even more eloquent— Love “fills men with affection, and takes away their disaffection, making them meet together at such banquets as these. In sacrifices, feasts, dances, he is our lord —supplying kindness and banishing un­ kindness, giving friendship and forgiving enmity, the joy of the good, the wonder of the wise, the amazement of the gods, desired by those who have no part in him, and precious to those who have the better part in him ; parent of delicacy, luxury, desire, fondness, softness, grace, regardful of the good, regardless of the evil. In every word, work, wish, fear—pilot, com­ rade, helper, saviour ; glory of gods and men, leader best and brightest: in whose footsteps let every man follow, sweetly singing in his honour that sweet strain with which love charms the souls of gods and men.” No doubt, even so there are two Loves, “one, the daughter of Uranus, who has no mother, and is the elder and wiser goddess ; and the other, the daughter of Zeus and Dione, who is popular and common,”—but let us not examine too closely. Charity tells us even of Guine­ vere, “ that while she lived, she was a PART II good lover and therefore she had a good end.” 1 The origin of love has exercised philo­ sophers almost as much as the origin of evil. The Symposium continues with a speech which Plato attributes in joke to Aristophanes, and of which Jowett ob­ serves that nothing in Aristophanes is more truly Aristophanic. The original human nature, he says, was not like the present. The Primeval Man “ was round,2 his back and sides form­ ing a circle ; and he had four hands and four feet, one head with two faces, look­ ing opposite ways, set on a round neck and precisely alike. He could walk upright as men now do, backwards or forwards as he pleased, and he could also roll over and over at a great rate, whirling round on his four hands and four feet, eight in all, like tumblers going over and over with their legs in the air ; this was when he wanted to run fast. Terrible was their might and strength, and the thoughts of their hearts were great, and they made an attack upon the gods ; of them is told the tale of Otys and Epliialtes, who, as Homer says, dared to scale heaven, and would have laid hands upon the gods. Doubt reigned in the celestial councils. Should they kill them and annihilate the race with thunderbolts, as they had done the giants, then there would be an end of the sacrifices and worship which men offered to them ; but, on the other hand, the gods could not suffer their insolence to be unrestrained. At last, after a good deal of reflection, Zeus discovered a way. He said : ‘ Methinks I have a plan which will humble their pride and mend their manners ; they shall continue to exist, but I will cut them in two, which will have a double advantage, for it will halve their strength and we shall have twice as many sacrifices. They shall walk upright on two legs, and if they continue insolent and will not be quiet, I will split them again and they shall hop on a single leg.’ He spoke and cut men in two, ‘ as you might 1 Malory, Morte eVArthur. 2 I avail myself of Dr. Jowett’s translation. �LOVE CHAP. IV split an egg with a hair.’ . . . After the division the two parts of man, each de­ siring his other half, came together. . . . So ancient is the desire for one another which is implanted in us, reuniting our original nature, making one of two, and healing the state of man. Each of us when separated is but the indenture of a man, having one side only, like a flat-fish, and he is always looking for his other half. “ And when one of them finds his other half, the pair are lost in amazement of love and friendship and intimacy, and one will not be out of the other’s sight, as I may say, even for a minute : they will pass their whole lives together ; yet they could not explain what they desire of one another. For the intense yearn­ ing which each of them has towards the other does not appear to be the desire of lovers’ intercourse, but of something else, which the soul of either evidently desires and cannot tell, and of which she has only a dark and doubtful presentiment.” However this may be, there is such in­ stinctive insight in the human heart that we often form our opinion almost instantaneously, and such impressions seldom change, I might even say, they are seldom wrong. Love at first sight sounds like an imprudence, and yet is almost a revelation. It seems as if we were but renewing the relations of a previous existence. ‘ But to see her were to love her, Love but her, and love for ever."1 Yet though experience seldom falsifies such a feeling, happily the reverse does not hold good. Deep affection is often of slow growth. Many a warm love has been won by faithful devotion. Montaigne indeed declares that “ Few have married for love without repenting it.” Dr. Johnson also maintained that marriages would generally be happier if they were arranged by the Lord Chan­ cellor ; but I do not think either Mon­ taigne or Johnson were good judges. As 1 Burns. 63 Lancelot said to the unfortunate Maid of Astolat, “ I love not to be forced to love, for love must arise of the heart and not by constraint.” 1 Love defies distance and the elements ; Sestos and Abydos are divided by the sea, “ but Love joined them by an arrow from his bow.” 2 Love can be happy anywhere. Byron wished “ 0 that the desert were my dwelling-place, With one fair Spirit for my minister, That I might all forget the human race, And, hating no one, love but only her.” And many will doubtless have felt “ 0 Love ! what hours were thine and mine In lands of palm and southern pine, In lands of palm, of orange-blossom, Of olive, aloe, and maize and vine.” What is true of space holds good equally of time. “ In peace, Love tunes the shepherd’s reed ; In war, he mounts the warrior’s steed ; In halls, in gay attire is seen ; In hamlets, dances on the green. Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above ; For love is heaven, and heaven is love.”3 Even when, as among some Eastern races, Religion and Philosophy have com­ bined to depress Love, truth reasserts itself in popular sayings, as for instance in the Turkish proverb, “ All women are perfection, especially she who loves you.” A French lady having once quoted to Abd-el-Kader the Polish proverb, “ A woman draws more with a hair of her head than a yoke of oxen well harnessed ; ” he answered with a smile, “ The hair is unnecessary, woman is powerful as fate.” But we like to think of Love rather as the Angel of Happiness than as a ruling force : of the joy of home when “hearts are of each other sure.” “ It is the secret sympathy, The silver link, the silken tie, Which heart to heart, and mind to mind In body and in soul can bind.” 4 1 Malory, Morte. d’Arthur. 2 Symonds. 3 Scott. 4 Ibid. �THE PLEASURES OF LIFE 64 What Bacon says of a friend is even truer of a wife ; there is “ no man that imparteth his joys to his friend, but he joyeth the more ; and no man that imparteth his griefs to his friend, but he grieveth the less.” Let some one we love come near us and “ At once it seems that something new or strange Has passed upon the flowers, the trees, the ground ; Some slight but unintelligible change On everything around.” 1 PART II Glistering with dew ; fragrant the fertile earth After soft showers ; and sweet the coming-on Of grateful evening mild ; then silent night, With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon, And these the gems of heaven, her starry train. But neither breath of morn when she ascends With charm of earliest birds ; nor rising sun On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flower, Glistering with dew; nor fragrance after showers ; Nor grateful evening mild ; nor silent night, With this her solemn bird ; nor walk by moon, Or glittering starlight, without thee is sweet.” Moreover, no one need despair of an ideal marriage. We fortunately differ so much in our tastes ; love does so much to create love, that even the humblest may hope for the happiest marriage if only he deserves it; and Shakespeare speaks, as 11 Her feet are tender, for she sets her steps Not on the ground, but on the heads of men.” he does so often, for thousands when he says Love and Reason divide the life of man. “ She is mine own, We must give to each its due. If it is And I as rich in having such a jewel impossible to attain to virtue by the aid As twenty seas, if all their sands were pearls, The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.” of Love without Reason, neither can we do so by means of Reason alone without True love indeed will not be unreason­ Love. able or exacting. Love, said Melanippides, “ sowing in “ Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind the heart of man the sweet harvest of That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind desire, mixes the sweetest and most To war and arms I fly. beautiful things together.” How true is the saying of La Bruyere, “ Etre avec ceux qu’on aime, cela suffit.” We might, I think, apply to Love what Homer says of Fate : “ Love is kind, and suffers long, Love is meek, and thinks no wrong, Love than death itself more strong— Therefore give us Love.” True ! a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field, And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore, I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honour more.”1 No one indeed could complain now, with Phaedrus in Plato’s Symposium, And yet that Love has had no worshippers among the Poets. On the contrary, Love has 1 ‘ Alas ! how light a cause may move Dissension between hearts that love ! brought them many of their sweetest in­ Hearts that the world in vain had tried, spirations : none perhaps nobler or more but more beautiful than Milton’s description of And sorrowthe storm, closely tied, were rough, That stood when waves Paradise : Yet in a sunny hour fall off, Like ships that have gone down at sea, ‘ With thee conversing, I forget all time, When heaven was all tranquillity.” 2 All seasons, and their change ; all please alike. Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet For love is brittle. Do not risk even With charm of earliest birds ; pleasant the any little jar ; it may be sun, When first on this delightful land he spreads “The little rift within the lute, His orient beams, on herb, treo, fruit, and That by and by will make the music mute, flower, And ever widening slowly silence all.”3 1 Trench. 1 Lovelace. 2 Moore. 3 Tennyson. �ART CHAP. V Love is delicate; “ Love is hurt with jar and fret,” and you might as well ex­ pect a violin to remain in tune if roughly used, as Love to survive if chilled or driven into itself. But what a pleasure to keep it alive by “ Little, nameless, unremembered acts Of kindness and of love.” 1 “ She whom you loved and chose,” says Bondi, “ Is now your bride, • The gift of heaven, and to your trust consigned; Honour her still, though not with passion blind; And in her virtue, though you watch, confide. Be to her youth a comfort, guardian, guide, In whose experience she may safety find ; And whether sweet or bitter be assigned, The joy with her, as well as pain, divide. Yield not too much if reason disapprove ; Nor too much force ; the partner of your life Should neither victim be, nor tyrant prove. Thus shall that rein, which often mars the bliss Of wedlock, scarce be felt; and thus your wife Ne’er in the husband shall the lover miss.” 2 65 Earthly these passions of the Earth, They perish where they have their birth, But Love is indestructible ; Its holy flame for ever burneth, From Heaven it came, to Heaven retumeth ; Too oft on Earth a troubled guest, At times deceived, at times opprest, It here is tried and purified, Then hath in Heaven its perfect rest: It soweth here with toil and care, But the harvest time of Love is there. “ The Mother when she meets on high The Babe she lost in infancy, Hath she not then, for pains and fears, The day of woe, the watchful night For all her sorrow, all her tears, An over-payment of delight ? ”1 As life wears on the love of husband or wife, of friends and of children, becomes the great solace and delight of age. The one recalls the past, the other gives in­ terest to the future ; and in our children we live our lives again. Every one is ennobled by true love— “ ’Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all.” 3 Perhaps no one ever praised a woman more gracefully in a sentence than Steele when he said of Lady Elizabeth Hastings that “ to know her was a liberal educa­ tion ” ; but every woman may feel as she improves herself that she is not only laying in a store of happiness for herself, but also raising and blessing those whom she would most wish to- see happy and good. Love, true love, grows and deepens with time. Husband and wife, who are married indeed, live CHAPTER V ART “ High art consists neither in altering, nor in improving nature ; but in seeking throughout nature for ‘whatsoever things are lovely, what­ soever things are pure ’ ; in loving these, in dis­ playing to the utmost of the painter’s power such loveliness as is in them, and directing the thoughts of others to them by winning art, or gentle emphasis. Art (caeteris paribus) is great in exact proportion to the love of beauty shown by the painter, provided that love of beauty forfeit no atom of truth.”—Ruskin. The most ancient works of Art which we possess, are representations of animals, rude indeed, but often strikingly charac­ teristic, engraved on, or carved in, stag’s“ By each other, till to love and live Be one.” 4 horn or bone ; and found in English, Nor does it end with life. A mother’s French, and German caves, with stone and other rude implements, and the re­ love knows no bounds. mains of mammalia, belonging apparently “ They err who tell us Love can die, to the close of the glacial epoch: not With life all other passions fly, only of the deer, bear, and other animals All others are but vanity. In Heaven Ambition cannot dwell, now inhabiting temperate Europe, but Nor Avarice in the vaults of Hell ; of some, such as the reindeer, the musk 4 Wordsworth. 2 Bondi. Tr. by Glassford. sheep, the mammoth, and the woolly- 3 Tennyson. K 4 Swinburne. 1 Southey. �66 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE haired rhinoceros, which have either re­ treated north or become altogether ex­ tinct. We may even, I think, venture to hope that other designs may hereafter be found, which will give us additional in­ formation as to the manners and customs of our ancestors in those remote ages. Next to these in point of antiquity come the sculptures and paintings on Egyptian and Assyrian tombs, temples, and palaces. These ancient scenes, considered as works of art, have no doubt many faults, and yet how graphically they tell their story ! As a matter of fact a king is not, as a rule, bigger than his soldiers, but in these battle-scenes he is always so repre­ sented. We must, however, remember that in ancient warfare the greater part of the fighting was done by the chiefs. In this respect the Homeric poems re­ semble the Assyrian and Egyptian repre­ sentations. At any rate, we see at a glance which is the king, which are officers, which side is victorious, the struggles and sufferings of the wounded, the flight of the enemy, the city of refuge —so that he who runs may read ; while in modern battle-pictures the story is much less clear, and, indeed, the untrained eye sees for some time little but scarlet and smoke. These works assuredly possess a grandeur and dignity of their own, even though they have not the beauty of later art. In Greece Art reached a perfection which has never been excelled, and it was more appreciated than perhaps it has ever been since. At the time when Demetrius attacked the city of Rhodes, Protogenes was paint­ ing a picture of Ialysus. “ This,” says Pliny, “hindered King Demetrius from taking Rhodes, out of fear lest he should burn the picture; and not being able to fire the town on any other side, he was pleased rather to spare the painting than to take the victory, which was already in his hands. Protogenes, at that time, had his painting-room in a garden out of the town, and very near the camp of the PART II enemies, where he was daily finishing those pieces which he had already begun, the noise of soldiers not being capable of interrupting his studies. But Demetrius causing him to be brought into his pre­ sence, and asking him what made him so bold as to work in the midst of enemies, he answered the king, ‘That he under­ stood the war which he made was against the Rhodians, and not against the Arts.’ ” With the decay of Greece, Art sank too, until it was revived in the thirteenth century by Cimabue, since whose time its progress has been triumphal. Art is unquestionably one of the purest and highest elements in human happiness. It trains the mind through the eye, and the eye through the mind. As the sun colors flowers, so does art color life. “In true Art,” says Ruskin, “the hand, the head, and the heart of man go together. But Art is no recreation : it cannot be learned at spare moments, nor pursued when we have nothing better to do.” It is not only in the East that great works, really due to study and labour, have been attributed to magic. Study and labour cannot make every man an artist, but no one can succeed in art without them. In Art two and two do not make four, and no number of little things will make a great one. It has been said, and on high authority, that the end of all art is to please. But this is a very imperfect definition. It might as well be said that a library is only intended for pleasure and ornament. Art has the advantage of nature, in so far as it introduces a human element, which is in some respects superior even to nature. “If,” says Plato, “you take a man as he is made by nature and com­ pare him with another who is the effect of art, the work of nature will always appear the less beautiful, because art is more accurate than nature.” Bacon also, in The Advancement of Learning, speaks of “ the world being in­ ferior to the soul, by reason whereof there is agreeable to the spirit of man a more �CHAP. V ART ample greatness, a more exact goodness, and a more absolute variety than can be found in the nature of things.” The poets tell us that, Prometheus having made a beautiful statue of Minerva, the goddess was so delighted that she offered to bring down anything from Heaven which could add. to its perfection. Prometheus on this prudently asked her to take him there, so that he might choose for himself. This Minerva did, and Pro­ metheus, finding that in heaven all things were animated by fire, brought back a spark, with which he gave life to his work. In fact, Imitation is the means and not the end of Art. The story of Zeuxis and Parrhasius is a pretty tale ; but to deceive birds, or even man himself, is but a trifling matter compared with the higher functions of Art. To imitate the Iliad, says Dr. Young, is not imitating Homer ; though, as Sir J. Reynolds adds, the more the artist studies nature “the nearer he approaches to the true and perfect idea of art.” Art, indeed, must create as well as copy. As Victor Cousin well says, “ The ideal without the real lacks life ; but the real without the ideal lacks pure beauty. Both need to unite; to join hands and enter into alliance. In this way the best work may be achieved. Thus beauty is an absolute idea, and not a mere copy of imperfect Nature.” The grouping of the picture is of course of the utmost importance. Sir Joshua Reynolds gives two remarkable cases to show how much any given figure in a picture is affected by its surroundings. Tintoret in one of his pictures has taken the Samson of Michael Angelo, put an eagle under him, placed thunder and lightning in his right hand instead of the jawbone of an ass, and thus turned him into a Jupiter. The second instance is even more striking. Titian has copied the figure in the vault of the Sistine Chapel which represents the Deity divid­ ing light from darkness, and has intro­ duced it into his picture of the battle of 67 Cadore, to represent a general falling from his horse. We must remember that so far as the eye is concerned, the object of the artist is to train, not to deceive, and that his higher function has reference rather to the mind than to the eye. Those who love beauty will see beauty everywhere. No doubt “ To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful aud ridiculous excess.”1 But all is not gold that glitters, flowers are not all arrayed like the lily, and there is room for selection as well as representation. “The true, the good, and the beautiful,” says Cousin, “ are but forms of the in­ finite : what then do we really love in truth, beauty, and virtue1? We love the infinite himself. The love of the infinite substance is hidden under the love of its forms. It is so truly the infinite which charms in the true, the good, and the beautiful, that its manifestations alone do not suffice. The artist is dissatisfied at the sight even of his greatest works ; he aspires still higher.” It is indeed sometimes objected that Landscape painting is not true to nature; but we must ask, What is truth ? Is the object to produce the same impression on the mind as that created by the scene itself? If so, let any one try to draw from memory a group of mountains, and he will probably find that in the impres­ sion produced on his mind the mountains are loftier and steeper, the valleys deeper and narrower, than in the actual reality. A drawing, then, which was literally exact would not be true, in the sense of conveying the same impression as Nature herself. In fact, Art, says Goethe, is called Art simply because it is not Nature. It is not sufficient for the artist to choose beautiful scenery, and delineate 1 Shakespeare. �68 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE tART ii it with accuracy. He must not be a mere copyist. Something higher and more subtle is required. He must create, or at any rate interpret, as well as copy. Turner was never satisfied merely to copy even the most glorious scenery. He moved, and even suppressed, mountains. A certain nobleman, we are told, was very anxious to see the model from whom Guido painted his lovely female faces. Guido placed his color-grinder, a big coarse man, in an attitude, and then drew a beautiful Magdalen. “ My dear Count,” he said, “ the beautiful and pure idea must be in the mind, and then it is no matter what the model is.” When painting St. Michael for the Church of the Capuchins at Rome, Guido wished that he “ had the wings of an angel, to have ascended unto Paradise, and there to have beheld the forms of those beautiful spirits, from which I might have copied my Archangel. But not being able to mount so high, it was in vain for me to seek for his resemblance here below; so that I was forced to look into mine own mind, and into that idea of beauty which I have formed in my own imagina­ tion.” 1 Science attempts, as far as the limited powers of Man permit, to reproduce the actual facts in a manner which, however bald, is true in itself, irrespective of time and scene. To do this she must submit to many limitations ; not altogether unvexatious, and not without serious draw­ backs. Art, on the contrary, endeavours to convey the impression of the original under some especial aspect. In some respects, Art gives a clearer and more vivid idea of an unknown country than any description can convey. In literature rock may be rock, but in painting it must be granite, slate, or some other special kind, and not merely rock in general. It is remarkable that while artists have long recognised the necessity of studying anatomy, and there has been from the commencement a professor of anatomy in the Royal Academy, it is only of late years that any knowledge of botany or geology has been considered desirable, and even now their importance is by no means generally recognised. Much has been written as to the rela­ tive merits of painting, sculpture, and architecture. This, if it be not a some­ what unprofitable inquiry, would at any rate be out of place here. Architecture not only gives intense pleasure, but even the impression of something ethereal and superhuman. Madame de Stael described it as “ frozen music ”; and a cathedral is a glorious specimen of “ thought in stone,” whose very windows are transparent walls of gorgeous hues. Caracci said that poets paint in their words and artists speak in their works. The latter have indeed one great advan­ tage, for a glance at a statue or a painting, will convey a more vivid idea than a long, and minute description. Another advantage possessed by Art is that it is understood by all civilised nations, whilst each has a separate language. Again, from a material point of view Art is most important. In a recent address Sir F. Leighton has observed that the study of Art “ is every day becoming more important in relation to certain sides of the waning material prosperity of the country. For the industrial compe­ tition between this and other countries —a competition, keen and eager, which means to certain industries almost a race for life—runs, in many cases, no longer exclusively or mainly on the lines of excellence of material and solidity of workmanship, but greatly nowadays on the lines of artistic charm and beauty of design.” The highest service, however, that Art can accomplish for man is to become “ at once the voice of his nobler aspirations, and the steady disciplinarian of his emotions ; and it is with this mission, rather than with any eesthetic perfection, that we are at present concerned.” 1 1 Dryden. 1 Haweis. �CHAI’. V ART 69 Science and Art are sisters, or rather story, that the picture was sold for a pot perhaps they are like brother and sister. of porter and a cheese, which, however, The mission of Art is in some respects does not give a higher idea of the ap­ like that of woman. It is not Hers preciation of the art of landscape at that so much to do the hard toil and moil date. Until very recently the general feeling of the world, as to surround it with a halo of beauty, to convert work into with reference to mountain scenery has been that expressed by Tacitus. “ Who pleasure. In Science we naturally expect pro­ would leave Asia or Africa or Italy to go gress, but in Art the case is not so clear : to Germany, a shapeless and unformed and yet Sir Joshua Reynolds did not country, a harsh sky, and melancholy hesitate to express his conviction that in aspect, unless indeed it was his native the future “ so much will painting im­ land?” It is amusing to read the opinion of prove, that the best we can now achieve will appear like the work of children,” Dr. Beattie, in a special treatise on Truth., and we may hope that our power of Poetry, and Music, written at the close enjoying it may increase in an equal of last century, that “ The Highlands of ratio. Wordsworth says that poets have Scotland are in general a melancholy to create the taste for their own works, country. ■ Long tracts of mountainous and the same is, in some degree at any country, covered with dark heath, and often obscured by misty weather ; narrow rate, true of artists. In one respect especially modern painters valleys thinly inhabited, and bounded by appear to have made a marked advance, precipices resounding with the fall of and one great blessing which in fact we torrents ; a soil so rugged, and a climate owe to them is a more vivid enjoyment so dreary, as in many parts to admit neither the amenities of pasturage, nor of scenery. I have of course no pretensions to speak the labours of agriculture ; the mournful with authority, but even in the case of the dashing of waves along the firths and greatest masters before Turner, the land­ lakes ; the portentous noises which every scapes seem to me singularly inferior to the change of the wind is apt to raise in a figures. Sir Joshua Reynolds tells us that ' lonely region, full of echoes, and rocks, Gainsborough framed a kind of model of a and caverns ; the grotesque and ghastly landscape on his table, composed of broken appearance of such a landscape by the stones, dried herbs, and pieces of looking- light of the moon: objects like these glass, which he “ magnified and improved diffuse a gloom over the fancy,” etc.1 Even Goldsmith regarded the scenery into rocks, trees, and water” ; and Sir Joshua solemnly discusses the wisdom of of the Highlands as dismal and hideous. such a proceeding. “ How far it may be Johnson, we know, laid it down as an useful in giving hints,” he gravely says, axiom that “ the noblest prospect which “ the professors of landscape can best a Scotchman ever sees is the high road determine,” but he does not recommend that leads him to England ”—a saying it, and is disposed to think, on the whole, which throws much doubt on his dis­ the practice may be more likely to do tinction that the Giant’s Causeway was “ worth seeing but not worth going to harm than good ! In the picture of Ceyx and Alcyone, by see.” 2 Madame de Stael declared, that though Wilson, of whom Cunningham said that, with Gainsborough, he laid the foundation she would go 500 leagues to meet a clever of our School of Landscape, the castle is man, she would not care to open her said to have been painted from a pot of window to see the Bay of Naples. porter, and the rock from a Stilton cheese. Nor was the ancient absence of apThere is indeed another version of the 1 Beattie. 1776. 2 Boswell. �70 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE preciation confined to scenery. Burke, speaking of Stonehenge, even says, “ Stone­ henge, neither for disposition nor ornament, has in it anything admirable.” Ugly scenery may well in some cases have an injurious effect on the human system. It has been ingeniously sug­ gested that what really drove Don Quixote out of his mind was not the study of his books of chivalry, so much as the mono­ tonous scenery of La Mancha. The love of landscape is not indeed due to Art alone. It has been the happy combination of art and science which has trained us to perceive the beauty which surrounds us. Art helps us-to see, and “hundreds of people can talk for one who can think ; but thousands can think for one who can see. To see clearly is poetry, prophecy, and religion all in one. . . . Remember­ ing always that there are two characters in which all greatness of Art consists— first, the earnest and intense seizing of natural facts ; then the ordering those facts by strength of human intellect, so as to make them, for all who look upon them, to the utmost serviceable, memor­ able, and beautiful. And thus great Art is nothing else than the type of strong and noble life ; for as the ignoble person, in his dealings w’ith all that occurs in the world about him, first sees nothing clearly, looks nothing fairly in the face, and then allows himself to be swept away by the trampling torrent and unescapable force of the things that he would not foresee and could not understand : so the noble person, looking the facts of the world full in the face, and fathoming them with deep faculty, then deals with them in unalarmed intelligence and unhurried strength, and becomes, with his human intellect and will, no unconscious nor insignificant agent in consummating their good and restraining their evil.” 1 May we not also hope that in this respect also still further progress may be made, that beauties may be revealed, and pleasures may be in store for those who 1 Ruskin. PART JI come after us, which we cannot appreciate, or at least can but faintly feel ? Even now there is scarcely a cottage without something more or less success­ fully claiming to rank as Art,—a picture, a photograph, or a statuette; and we may fairly hope that much as Art even now contributes to the happiness of life, it will do so even more effectively in the future. CHAPTER VI POETRY “ And here the singer for his Art Not all in vain may plead ‘ The song that nerves a nation’s heart Is in itself a deed.’ ” Tennyson. After the disastrous defeat of the Athen­ ians before Syracuse, Plutarch tells us that the Sicilians spared those who could repeat any of the poetry of Euripides. “ Some there were,” he says, “ who owed their preservation to Euripides. Of all the Grecians, his was the muse with whom the Sicilians were most in love. From the strangers who landed in their island they gleaned every small specimen or portion of his works, and communicated it with pleasure to each other. It is said that upon this occasion a number of Athenians on their return home went to Euripides, and thanked him in the most grateful manner for their obligations to his pen ; some having been enfranchised for teaching their masters what they re­ membered of his poems, and others having procured refreshments, when they were wandering about after the battle, by sing­ ing a few of his verses.” Nowadays we are not likely to owe our lives to Poetry in this sense, yet in another we many of us owe to it a similar debt. How often, when worn with overwork, sorrow, or anxiety, have we taken down Homer or Horace, Shakespeare or Mil ton, and felt the clouds gradually roll away, the jar of nerves subside, the con- �POETRY CHAP. VI sciousness of power replace physical exhaustion, and the darkness of despond­ ency brighten once more into the light of life. “And yet Plato/’ says Jowett, “expels the poets from his Republic because they are allied to sense; because they stimulate the emotions ; because they are thrice re­ moved from the ideal truth.” In that respect, as in some others, few would accept Plato’s Republic as being an ideal Commonwealth, and most would agree with Sir Philip Sidney that “ if you cannot bear the planet-like music of poetry ... I must send you in the be­ half of all poets, that while you live, you live in love, and never get favour for lacking skill of a sonnet; and when you die, your memory die from the earth, for want of an epitaph.” Poetry has often been compared with painting and sculpture. Simonides long ago said that Poetry is a speaking picture, and painting is mute Poetry. “ Poetry,” says Cousin, “ is the first of the Arts because it best represents the infinite.” And again, “Though the arts are in some respects isolated, yet there is one which seems to profit by the resources of all, and that is Poetry. With words, Poetry can paint and sculpture ; she can build edifices like an architect; she unites, to some extent, melody and music. She is, so to say, the centre in which all arts unite.” A true poem is a gallery of pictures. It must, Tthink, be admitted that paint­ ing and sculpture can give us a clearer and more vivid idea of an object we have never seen than any description can convey. But when we have once seen it, then on the contrary there are many points which the poet brings before us, and which perhaps neither in the repre­ sentation, nor even in nature, should we perceive for ourselves. Objects can be most vividly brought before us by the artist, actions by the poet; space is the domain of Art, time of Poetry.1 1 See Lessing’s Tmocooh. 71 Take, for instance, as a typical instance, female beauty. How laboured and how cold any description appears, The great­ est poets recognise this ; as, for instance, when Scott wishes us to realise the Lady of the Lake he does not attempt any de­ scription, but just mentions her attitude and then adds— “ And ne’er did Grecian chisel trace A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace, Of finer form or lovelier face ! ” A great poet must be inspired ; he must possess an exquisite sense of beauty, with feelings deeper than those of most men, and yet well under control. “The Milton of poetry is the man, in his own magnifi­ cent phrase, of devout prayer to that Eternal Spirit that can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar, to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases.” 1 And if from one point of view Poetry brings home to us the im­ measurable inequalities of different minds, on the other hand it teaches us that genius is no affair of rank or wealth. “ I think of Chatterton, the marvellous boy, The sleepless soul, that perish’d in his pride ; Of Burns, that walk’d in glory and in joy Behind his plough upon the mountain-side.” 2 A man may be a poet and yet write no verse, but not if he writes bad or poor ones. “ Mediocribus esse poetis Non homines, non Di, non concessere column a?.”3 Poetry will not live unless it be alive, “ that which comes from the head goes to the heart ”;4 and Milton truly said that “ he who would not be frustrate of his hope to write well hereafter in laudable things, ought himself to be a true poem.” For “ he who, having no touch of the Muses’ madness in his soul, comes to the door and thinks he will get into the temple by the help of Art—he, I say, and his Poetry are not admitted.” 5 Secondrate poets, like secondrate writers 1 Arnold. 3 Horace. 2 Wordsworth. 4 Coleridge. 5 Plato. �THE PLEASURES OF LIFE 72 PART II generally, fade gradually into dreamland; The works of our greatest Poets are all but the work of the true poet is immortal. episodes in that one great poem which “ For have not the verses of Homer the genius of man has created since the continued 2500 years or more without commencement of human history. the loss of a syllable or a letter, during A distinguished mathematician is said which time infinite palaces, temples, once to have inquired what was proved castles, cities, have been decayed and by Milton in his Paradise Lost; and there demolished ? It is not possible to have are no doubt still some who ask them­ the true pictures or statues of Cyrus, selves, even if they shrink from putting Alexander, or Ciesar ; no, nor of the kings the question to others, whether Poetry or great personages of much later years ; is of any use, just as if to give pleasure for the originals cannot last, and the were not useful in itself. No true Utili­ copies cannot but lose of the life and tarian, however, would feel this doubt, truth. But the images of men’s wits and since the greatest happiness of the greatest knowledge remain in books, exempted number is the rule of his philosophy. from the wrong of time and capable of We must not however “ estimate the perpetual renovation. Neither are they works of genius merely with reference fitly to be called images, because they to the pleasure they afford, even when generate still and cast their seeds in the pleasure was their principal object. We minds of others, provoking and causing must also regard the intelligence which infinite actions and opinions in succeeding they presuppose and exercise.”1 ages ; so that if the invention of the ship Thoroughly to enjoy Poetry we must was thought so noble, which carrietli riches not limit ourselves, but must rise to a and commodities from place to place, and high ideal. consociateth the most remote regions in “ Yes ; constantly in reading poetry, a participation of their fruits, how much sense for the best, the really excellent, more are letters to be magnified, which, and of the strength and joy to be drawn as ships, pass through the vast seas of time from it, should be present in our minds, and make ages so distant to participate of and should govern our estimate of what the wisdom, illuminations, and inventions, we read.” 2 the one of the other 1 ” 1 Cicero, in his oration for Archias, well The poet requires many qualifications. asked, “ Has not this man then a right to “ Who has traced,” says Cousin, “ the plan my love, to my admiration, to all the of this poem ? Reason. Who has given means which I can employ in his defence ? it life and charm ? Love. And who has For we are instructed by all the greatest guided reason and love ? The Will.” All and most learned of mankind, that educa­ men have some imagination, but the lover tion, precepts, and practice, can in every and the poet other branch of learning produce excel­ “ Are of imagination all compact. lence. But a poet is formed by the hand of nature ; he is aroused by mental vigour, The Poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, and inspired by what we may call the Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth spirit of divinity itself. Therefore our to heaven, And as imagination bodies forth Ennius has a right to give to poets the The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen epithet of Holy,3 because they are, as it Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing ! were, lent to mankind by the indulgent A local habitation and a name.” 2 bounty of the gods.” Poetry is the fruit of genius; but it “Poetry,” says Shelley, “awakens and cannot be produced without labour. Moore, enlarges the mind itself by rendering it one of the airiest of poets, tells us that he 1 St. Hilaire. 2 Arnold. was a slow and painstaking workman. 1 Bacon. 2 Shakespeare. 3 Plato styles poets the sons and interpreters of the gods, �CHAP. VI POETRY 73 The man who has a love for Poetry can scarcely fail to derive intense pleasure from Nature, which to those who love it is all “ beauty to the eye and music to the ear.” “Yet Nature never set forth the earth in so rich tapestry as divers poets have done ; neither with so pleasant rivers, fruitful trees, sweet-smelling flow’ers, nor whatsoever else may make the too-muchloved earth more lovely.”1 In the smokiest city the poet will transport us, as if by enchantment, to the fresh air and bright sun, to the murmur of woods and leaves and water, to the ripple of waves upon sand ; and enable us, as in some delightful dream, to cast off the cares and troubles of life. The poet, indeed, must have more true knowledge, not only of human nature, but of all Nature, than other men are gifted with. Crabbe Robinson tells us that when a “ Higher still and higher stranger once asked permission to see From the earth thou springest Wordsworth’s study, the maid said, “ This Like a cloud of fire ; The blue deep thou wingest, is master’s Library, but he studies in the And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever fields.” No wonder then that Nature singest. has been said to return the poet’s love. the receptacle of a thousand unappre­ hended combinations of thought. Poetry­ lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar ; it repro­ duces all that it represents, and the im­ personations clothed in its Elysian light stand thenceforward in the minds of those who have once contemplated them, as memorials of that gentle and exalted content which extends itself over all thoughts and actions with which it co­ exists.” And again, “All high Poetry is infinite; it is as the first acorn, which contained all oaks potentially. Veil after veil may be undrawn, and the inmost naked beauty of the meaning never exposed. A great poem is a fountain for ever overflowing with the waters of wisdom and delight.” Or, as he has expressed himself in his Ode to a Skylark : “ Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not: “ Call it not vain ;—they do not err Who say that, when the poet dies, Mute Nature mourns her worshipper, And celebrates his obsequies.” 2 Swinburne says of Blake, and I feel “ Like a glow-worm golden entirely with him, though in my case the In a dell of dew, application would have been different, Scattering unbeholden that “The sweetness of sky and leaf, of Its aerial hue Among the flowers and grass, which screen it grass and water—the bright light life of from the view.” bird, child, and beast—is, so to speak, We speak now of the poet as the Maker or Creator—•ttoitjtt/s ; the origin of the word “ bard ” seems doubtful. The Hebrews well called their poets “ Seers,” for they not only perceive more than others, but also help other men to see much which would otherwise be lost to us. The old Greek word was aoiSos —the Bard or Singer. Poetry lifts the veil from the beauty of the world which would otherwise be hidden, and throws over the most familiar objects the glow and halo of imagination. kept fresh by some graver sense of faithful and mysterious love, explained and vivified by a conscience and purpose in the artist’s hand and mind. Such a fiery outbreak of spring, such an insurrec­ tion of fierce floral life and radiant riot of childish power and pleasure, no poet or painter ever gave before ; such lustre of green leaves and flushed limbs, kindled cloud and fervent fleece, was never wrought into speech or shape.” 1 Sydney, Defence of Poetry. 3 Scott. �74 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE To appreciate Poetry we must not merely glance at it, or rush through it, or read it in order to talk or write about it. One must compose oneself into the right frame of mind. Of course for one’s own sake one will read Poetry in times of agitation, sorrow, or anxiety, but that is another matter. The inestimable treasures of Poetry again are open to all of us. The best books are indeed the cheapest. For the price of a little beer, a little tobacco, we can buy Shakespeare or Milton—or indeed almost as many books as a man can read with profit in a year. Nor, in considering the advantage of Poetry to man, must we limit ourselves to its past or present influence. The future of Poetry, says Mr. Matthew Arnold, and no one was more qualified to speak, “ The future of Poetry is immense, because in Poetry, where it is worthy of its high destinies, our race, as time goes on, will find an ever surer and surer stay. But for Poetry the idea is everything ; the rest is a world of illusion, of divine illusion. Poetry attaches its emotion to the idea; the idea is the fact. The strongest part of our religion to-day is its unconscious Poetry. We should conceive of Poetry worthily, and more highly than it has been the custom to conceive of it. We should conceive of it as capable of higher uses, and called to higher destinies than those which in general men have assigned to it hitherto.” Poetry has been well called the record “ of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds ” ; it is the light of life, the very “ image of life expressed in its eternal truth ” ; it immortalises all that is best and most beautiful in the world ; “ it purges from our inward sight the film of familiarity which obscures from us the wonder of our being” ; “it is the centre and circumference of know­ ledge ” ; and poets are “ mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present.” Poetry, in effect, lengthens life ; it creates for us time, if time be realised as TART II the succession of ideas and not of minutes ; it is the “ breath and finer spirit of all knowledge ” ; it is bound neither by time nor space, but lives in the spirit of man. What greater praise can be given than the saying that life should be Poetry put into action ? CHAPTER VIT MUSIC “Music is a moral law. It gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, a charm to sadness, gaiety and life to everything. It is the essence of order, and leads to all that is good, just, and beautiful, of which it is the invisible, but nevertheless dazzling, passionate, and eternal form.”—Plato. Music is in one sense far more ancient than man, and the voice was, from the very commencement of human existence, a source of melody. The early history of Music is, however, unfortunately wrapped in much obscurity. The use of letters long preceded the invention of notes, and tradition in such a matter can tell us but little. So far, however, as musical in­ struments are concerned, it is probable that percussion came first, then wind in­ struments, and lastly, those with strings : first the Drum, then the Flute, and thirdly, the Lyre. The contest between Marsyas and Apollo is supposed by some to typify the struggle between the Flute and the Lyre ; Marsyas representing the archaic Flute, Apollo the champion of the Lyre. The latter of course was victorious : it sets the voice free, and the sound “ Of music that is born of human breath Conies straighter to the soul than any strain The hand alone can make.” 1 Various myths have grown up to ex­ plain the origin of Music. One Greek tradition was to the effect that Grass­ hoppers were human beings themselves in a world before the Muses ; that when 1 L. Morris. �CHAP. VII MUSIC 75 the Muses came, being ravished with delight, they “sang and sang and forgot to eat, until they died of hunger for the love of song. And they carry to heaven the report of those who honour them on earth.” 1 The old writers and commentators tell us that Pythagoras, “ as he was one day meditating on the want of some rule to guide the ear, analogous to what had been used to help the other senses, chanced to pass by a blacksmith’s shop, and observing that the hammers, which were four in number, sounded very har­ moniously, he had them weighed, and found them to be in the proportion of six, eight, nine, and twelve. Upon this he suspended four strings of equal length and thickness, etc., fastened weights in the above-mentioned proportions to each of them respectively, and found that they gave the same sounds that the hammers had done; viz., the fourth, fifth, and octave to the gravest tone.”2 However this may be, it would appear that the lyre had at first four strings only; Terpander is said to have given it three more, and an eighth was subsequently added. The Chinese indicated the notes by words or their initials. The lowest was termed “ Koung,” or the Emperor, as being the Foundation on which all were supported ; the second was Tschang, the Prime Minister ; the third, the Subject; the fourth, Public Business ; the fifth, the Mirror of Heaven.3 The Greeks also had a name for each note. We have unfortunately no specimens of Greek 4 or Roman, or even of Early Christian music. The so-called Gregorian notes were not invented until six hundred years after Gregory’s death. The Monastery of St. Gall possesses a copy of Gregory’s Antiphonary, made about the year 780 by a chorister who was sent from Rome to Charlemagne to reform the Northern music, and in this the sounds are indi­ cated by “ pneumes,” from which our notes were gradually developed, being first arranged along one line, to which others were gradually added. The most ancient known piece-of music for several voices is an English four men’s song, “Summer is i-comen in,” which is considered to be at least as early as 1240, and is now in the British Museum. .In the matter of music Englishmen have certainly deserved well of the world. Even as long ago as 1185 Giraldus Cambrensis, Archdeacon of St. David’s, says, “ The Britons do not sing their tunes in unison like the inhabitants of other countries, but in different parts. So that when a company of singers meet to sing, as is usual in this country, as many different parts are heard as there are singers.”1 The Venetian ambassador in the time of Henry VIII. said of our English Church music : “ The mass was sung by His Majesty’s choristers, whose voices are more heavenly than human; they did not chaunt like men, but like angels.” Dr. Burney says that Purcell was “ as much the pride of an Englishman in music as Shakespeare in productions of the stage, Mil ton in epic poetry, Locke in metaphysics, or Sir Isaac Newton in philosophy and mathematics ” ; and yet Purcell’s music is unfortunately but little known to us now, as Macfarren says, “ to our great loss.” Purcell died early, and on his tomb is the celebrated epitaph— “ Here lies Henry Purcell, who left this life, and is gone to that blessed place, where, only, his harmony can be exceeded.” The authors of some of the loveliest music, and even in some cases that of comparatively recent times, are unknown to us. This is the case for instance with the exquisite song “Drink to me only with thine eyes,” the words of which were taken by Jonson from Philostratus, 1 Plato. 2 Crowest. and which has been considered as the 3 Rowbotliam, History of Music. 4 Since this was written some fragments of a most beautiful of all “people’s songs.” hymn to Apollo have been found at Delphi. 1 Wakefield. �76 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE The music of “ God save the Queen ” has been adopted in more than half a dozen other countries, and yet the author­ ship is a matter of doubt, being attributed by some to Dr. John Bull, by others to Carey. It was apparently first sung in a tavern in Cornhill. Both the music and words of “ O Death, rock me to sleep ” are said to be by Anne Boleyn : “ Stay, Corydon ” and “ Sweet Honey-sucking Bees ” by Wildye, “ the first of madrigal writers. ” “ Rule Britannia ” was composed by Arne, and originally formed part of his Masque of Alfred, first performed in 1740 at Cliefden, near Maidenhead. To Arne we are also indebted for the music of “ Where the Bee sucks, there lurk I.” “ The Vicar of Bray ” is set to a tune originally known as “ A Country Garden.” “ Come unto these yellow sands ” we owe to Purcell; “ Sigh no more, Ladies ” to Stevens ; “ Home, Sweet Home ” to Bishop. There is a curious melancholy in national music, which is generally in the minor key ; indeed this holds good with the music of savage races generally. They appear, moreover, to have no love songs. Herodotus tells us that during the whole time he was in Egypt he only heard one song, and that was a sad one. My own experience there was the same. Some tendency to melancholy seems in­ herent in music, and Jessica is not alone in the feeling Pz\RT II composed “ Il trillo del Diavolo,” con­ sidered to be his best work, in a dream. Rossini, speaking of the chorus in G minor in his “ Dal tuo stellato soglio,” tells us: “ While I was writing the chorus in G minor I suddenly dipped my pen into a medicine bottle instead of the ink. I made a blot, and when I dried this with the sand it took the form of a natural, which instantly gave me the idea of the effect the change from G minor to G major would make, and to this blot is all the effect, if any, due.” But these of course are exceptional cases. There are other forms of Music, which, though not strictly entitled to the name, are yet capable of giving intense pleasure. To the Sportsman what Music can excel that of the hounds themselves. The cawing of rooks has been often quoted as a sound which has no actual beauty of its own, and yet which is delightful from its associations. There is, moreover, a true Music of Nature,— the song of birds, the whisper of leaves, the ripple of waters upon a sandy shore, the wail of wind or sea. There was also an ancient impression that the Heavenly bodies give out sound as well as light: the Music of the Spheres has become proverbial. “There’s not the smallest orb which thou beholdest But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubims ; Such harmony is in immortal souls. But while this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.” 1 Music indeed often seems as if it scarcely belonged to this material universe, The histories of music contain many but was curious anecdotes as to the circumstances “ A tone under w’hich different works have been Of some world far from ours, Where music, and moonlight, and feeling are composed. one.” 2 Rossini tells us that he wrote the over­ “ It is a language which is incapable ture to the “ Gazza Ladra ” on the very day of the first performance, in the upper of expressing anything impure.” There loft of the La Scala, where he had been is music in speech as well as in song. confined by the manager under the guard Not merely in the voice of those we love, of four scene-shifters, who threw the text and the charm of association, but in out of window to copyists bit by bit as it actual melody ; as when Milton says, was composed. Tartini is said to have 1 Shakespeare. 2 Swinburne. “ I am never merry when I hear sweet music.” �MUSIC CHAP. VII 77 “ The Angel ended, and in Adam’s ear As touching the human heart— So charming left his voice, that he awhile Thought him still speaking, still stood fixed “ The soul of music slumbers in the shell, Till waked and kindled by the master’s spell ; to hear.” And feeling hearts—touch them but rightly— pour It is remarkable that more pains are A thousand melodies unheard before.”1 not taken with the voice in conversation As an education— as well as in singing, for “What plea so tainted and corrupt But, being seasoned with a gracious voice, Obscures the show of evil.” As a general rule “ I have sent books and music there, and all Those instruments with which high spirits call The future from its cradle, and the past Out of its grave, and make the present last In thoughts and joys which sleep, but cannot die, Folded within their own eternity.” 2 ‘ ‘ The man that hath no Music in himself Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils ” ;1 As an aid to religion— “ As from the power of sacred lays but there are some notable exceptions. The spheres began to move, Dr. Johnson had. no love of music. On And sung the great Creator’s praise one occasion, hearing that a certain piece To all the blessed above, So when the last and dreadful hour of music was very difficult, he expressed This crumbling pageant shall devour, his regret that it was not impossible. The trumpet shall be heard on high, Poets, as( might have been expected, The dead shall live, the living die, have sung most sweetly in praise of song. And music shall untune the sky.” 3 They have, moreover, done so from the Or again— opposite points of view. “Hark how it falls ! and now it steals along, Milton invokes it as a luxury— “ And ever against eating cares Lap me in soft Lydian airs ; Married to immortal verse Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes -with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out ; With wanton heed, and giddy cunning, The melting voice through mazes running ; Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony.” Like distant beHs upon the lake at eve, When all is still; and now it grows more strong As when the choral train their dirges weave Mellow and many voiced ; where every close O’er the old minster roof, in echoing waves reflows. Oh ! I am rapt aloft. My spirit soars Beyond the skies, and leaves the stars behind; Lo ! angels lead me to the happy shores. And floating paeans fill the buoyant wind. Farewell! base earth, farewell ! my soul is freed.” Sometimes it is used as a temptation : so The power of Music to sway the feel­ Spenser says of Phsedria, ings of Man has never been more cleverly “ And she, more sweet than any bird on bough, portrayed than by Dryden in “ The Would oftentimes amongst them bear a part, Feast of Alexander,” though the circum­ And strive to passe (as she could well enough) stances of the case precluded any reference Their native musicke by her skilful art.” to the influence of Music in its nobler Or as an element of pure happiness— aspects. Poets have always attributed to Music “There is in souls a sympathy with sounds ; And as the mind is pitched, the ear is pleased —and who can deny it—a power even With melting airs or martial, brisk or grave ; over the inanimate forces of Nature. Some chord in unison with what we hear Shakespeare accounts for shooting stars Is touched within us, and the heart replies. by the attraction of Music : How soft the music of those village bells, Falling at intervals upon the e.ar In cadence sweet, now dying all away, Now pealing loud again and louder still Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on.” 2 1 Shakespeare. 2 Cowper. “ The rude sea grew civil at her song, And certain stars shot madly from their spheres To hear the Sea-maid’s Music.” Prose writers have also been inspired 1 Rogers. 2 Shelley. 3 Dryden. �7« THE PLEASURES OF LIFE by Music to their highest eloquence. “ Music,” said Plato, “ is a moral law. It gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, a charm to sadness, gaiety and life to everything. It is the essence of order, and leads to all that is good, just, and beautiful, of which it is the invisible, but nevertheless dazzling, passionate, and eternal form.” “Music,” said Luther, “is a fair and glorious gift from God. I would not for all the world renounce my humble share in music.” “Music,” said Halevy, “is an art that God has given us, in which the voices of all nations may unite their prayers in one harmoni­ ous rhythm.” And Carlyle, “ Music is a kind of inarticulate, unfathomable speech, which leads us to the edge of the infinite, and lets us for moments gaze into it.” “ There are but seven notes in the scale; make them fourteen,” says Newman, “ yet what a slender outfit for so vast an enterprise ! What science brings so miicli out of so little ? Out of what poor elements does some great master in it create his new world ! Shall we say that all this exuberant inventiveness is a mere ingenuity or trick of art, like some game of fashion of the day, without reality, without meaning ? . . . Is it possible that that inexhaustible evolution and dis­ position of notes, so rich yet so simple, so intricate yet so regulated, so various yet so majestic, should be a mere sound, which is gone and perishes ? Can it be that those mysterious stirrings of the heart, and keen emotions, and strange yearnings after we know not what, and awful impressions from we know not whence, should be wrought in us by what is unsubstantial, and conies and goes, and begins and ends in itself ? it is not so ; it cannot be. No ; they have escaped from some higher sphere ; they are the outpourings of eter­ nal harmony in the medium of created sound ; they are echoes from our Home ; they are the voice of Angels, or the Mag­ nificat of Saints, or the living laws of Divine Governance, or the Divine Attri­ butes ; something are they besides them­ PART II selves, which we cannot compass, which we cannot utter, though mortal man, and he perhaps not otherwise distinguished above his fellows, has the gift of eliciting them.” Let me also quote Helmholtz, one of the. profoundest exponents of modern science. “Just as in the rolling ocean, this movement, rhythmically repeated, and yet ever-varying, rivets our attention and hurries us along. But whereas in the sea blind physical forces alone are at work, and hence the final impression on the spectator’s mind is nothing but solitude— in a musical work of art the movement follows the outflow of the artist’s own emotions. Now gently gliding, now grace­ fully leaping, now violently stirred, penetrated, or laboriously contending with the natural expression of passion, the stream of sound, in primitive vivacity, bears over into the hearer’s soul unimagined moods which the artist has overheard from his own, and finally raises him up to that repose of everlasting beauty of which God has allowed but few of his elect favourites to be the heralds.” Poetry and Music unite in song. From the earliest ages song has been the sweet companion of labour. The rude chant of the boatman floats upon the water, the shepherd sings upon the hill, the milk­ maid in the dairy, the ploughman in the field. Every trade, every occupation, every act and scene of life, has long had its own especial music. The bride went to 'her marriage, the labourer to his work, the old man to his last long rest, each with appropriate and immemorial music. Music has been truly described as the mother of sympathy, the handmaid of Religion, and will never exercise its full effect, as the Emperor Charles VI. said to Farinelli, unless it aims not merely to charm the ear, but to touch the heart. There are many who consider that our life at present is peculiarly prosaic and mercenary. I greatly doubt whether that be the case, but if so our need for Music is all the more imperative. �CHAP. VIII THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE Much indeed as Music has already done for man, we may hope even more from it in the future. It is, moreover, a joy for all. To ap­ preciate Science or Art requires some training, and no doubt the cultivated ear will more and more appreciate the beauties of Music ; but though there are exceptional individuals, and even races, almost devoid of any love of Music, still they are happily but rare. Good Music, moreover, does not neces­ sarily involve any considerable outlay ; it is even now no mere luxury of the rich, and we may hope that as time goes on, it will become more and more the comfort and solace of the poor. CHAPTER VIII THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE “ Speak to the earth and it shall teach thee.” Job. “ And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything.” Shakespeare. We are told in the first chapter of Genesis that at the close of the sixth day “ God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good.” Not merely good, but very good. Yet how few of us appreciate the beautiful world in which we live 1 In preceding chapters I have incident­ ally, though only incidentally, referred to the Beauties of Nature ; but any attempt, however imperfect, to sketch the blessings of life must contain some special reference to this lovely world itself, which the Greeks happily called /cocr/ws—beauty. Hamerton, in his charming work on Landscape, says, “ There are, I believe, four new experiences for which no de­ scription ever adequately prepares us, the first sight of the sea, the first journey in the desert, the sight of flowing molten lava, 79 and a walk on a great glacier. We feel in each case that the strange thing is pure nature, as much nature as a familiar English moor, yet so extraordinary that we might be in another planet.” But it would, I think, be easier to enumerate the Wonders of Nature for which description can prepare us, than those which are beyond the power of language. Many of us, however, walk through the world like ghosts, as if we were in it, but not of it. We have “ eyes and see not, ears and hear not.” We must look before wre can expect to see. To look is indeed much less easy than to overlook, and to be able to see what we do see, is a great gift. Ruskin maintains that “ The greatest thing a human soul ever does in this world is to see something, and tell what it saw in a plain way.” . I do not suppose that his eyes are better than ours, but how much more he sees with them ! “ To the attentive eye,” says Emerson, “ each moment of the year has its own beauty ; and in the same field it beholds every hour a picture that was never seen before, and shall never be seen again. The heavens change every moment and reflect their glory or gloom on the plains beneath.” The love of Nature is a great gift, and if it is frozen or crushed out, the character can hardly fail to suffer from the loss. I will not, indeed, say that a person who does not love Nature is necessarily bad ; or that one who does, is necessarily good; but it is to most minds a great help. Many, as Miss Cobbe says, enter the Temple through the gate called Beautiful. There are doubtless some to whom none of the beautiful wonders of Nature; neither the glories of the rising or setting sun ; the magnificent spectacle of the boundless ocean, sometimes so grand in its peaceful tranquillity, at others so majestic in its mighty power ; the forests agitated by the storm, or alive with the song of birds; nor the glaciers and mountains—there are doubtless some whom none of these magnificent spectacles can move, w’hom �So THE PLEASURES OF LIFE l’ART II “ all the glories of heaven and earth else is illusion, or mere endurance. To may pass in daily succession without be beautiful and to be calm, without touching their hearts or elevating their mental fear, is the ideal of Nature.” minds.” 1 I must not, however, enlarge on the Such men are indeed pitiable. But, contrast and variety of the seasons, each happily, they are exceptions. If we can of which has its own special charm and noire of us as yet fully appreciate the i interest, as beauties of Nature, we are beginning to “ The daughters of the year do so more and more. Dance into light and die into the shade.” 1 For most of us the early summer has a Our countrymen derive great pleasure special charm. The very life is luxury. The air is full of scent, and sound, and from the animal kingdom, in hunting, sunshine, of the song of birds and the shooting, and fishing, thus obtaining fresh murmur of insects ; the meadows gleam 1 air and exercise, and being led into much with golden buttercups ; one can almost varied and beautiful scenery. Still it see the grass grow and the buds open ; will probably ere long be recognised that the bees hum for very joy, and the air even from a purely selfish point of view, is full of a thousand scents, above all killing animals is not the way to get the greatest enjoyment from them. How perhaps that of new-mown hay. The exquisite beauty and delight of much more interesting would every walk a fine summer’s day in the country has in the country be, if Man would but treat never perhaps been more truly, and there-I other animals with kindness, so that they fore more beautifully, described, than by might approach us without fear, and we Jefferies in his “Pageant of Summer.” I might have the constant pleasure of Their “ I linger,” he says, “ in the midst of the watching their winning ways. long grass, the luxury of the leaves, and origin and history, structure and habits, the song in the very air. I seem as if I senses and intelligence, offer an endless could feel all the glowing life the sunshine field of interest and wonder. The richness of life is marvellous. Any gives and the south wind calls to being. The endless grass, the endless leaves, the one who will sit down quietly on the immense strength of the oak expanding, grass and watch a little, will be indeed the unalloyed joy of finch and blackbird ; surprised at the number and variety of from all of them I receive a little. . . . living beings, every one with a special In the blackbird’s melody one note is history of its own, every one offering mine ; in the dance of the leaf shadows ' endless problems of great interest. “ If indeed thy heart were right, then the formed maze is for me, though the motion is theirs ; the flowers with a thou­ would every creature be to thee a rnirrox' sand faces have collected the kisses of the of life, and a book of holy doctrine.” 2 The study of Natural History has the morning. Feeling with them, I receive some, at least, of their fulness of life. special advantage of carrying us into the Never could I have enough ; never stay country and the open air. Not but what towns are beautiful too. long enough. . . . The hours when the mind is absorbed by beauty are the only They teem with human interest and his­ hours when we really live, so that the torical associations. Wordsworth was an intense lover of longer we can stay among these things so much the more is snatched from nature ; yet does he not tell us, in lines inevitable Time. . . . These are the which every Londoner will appreciate, only hours that are not wasted—these that he knew nothing in nature more hours that absorb the soul and fill it fair, no calm more deep, than the city of with beauty. This is real life, and all London at early dawn ? 1 Beattie. 1 Tennyson. Thomas a Kempis. �THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE CHAP. VIII “Earth has not anything to show more fair ; Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the igorning ; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky ; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill; Ne’er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep ! The river glideth at his own sweet will: Dear God ! the very houses seem asleep ; And all that mighty heart is lying still ! ” Milton also described London as 81 mountain-side up to the very edge of the eternal snow. And what an infinite variety they present. “Daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty ; violets, dim. But sweeter than the lids of Juno’s eyes, Or Cytherea’s breath ; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength, a malady Most incident to maids ; bold oxlips and The crown imperial ; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one.”1 Nor are they mere delights to the eye ; they are full of mystery and suggestions. Some of our streets indeed are lines of They almost seem like enchanted prin­ cesses waiting for some princely deliverer. loveliness, but yet, after being some time Wordsworth tells us that in a great city, one longs for the country. “Too blest abode, no loveliness we see In all the earth, but it abounds in thee.” “The meanest floweret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale, The common sun, the air, the skies, To him are opening paradise.”1 “ To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.” Here Gray justly places flowers in the first place, for whenever in any great town we think of the country, flowers seem first to suggest themselves. “ Flowers,” says Ruskin, “ seem in­ tended for the solace of ordinary humanity. Children love them; quiet, tender, con­ tented, ordinary people love them as they grow ; luxurious and disorderly people rejoice in them gathered. They are the cottager’s treasure ; and in the crowded town, mark, as with a little broken frag­ ment of rainbow, the windows of the workers in whose heart rests the covenant of peace.” But in the crowded street, or even in the formal garden, flowers always seem, to me at least, as if they were pining for the freedom of the woods and fields, where they can live and grow as they please. There are flowers for almost all seasons and all places,—flowers for spring, summer, and autumn ; while even in the very depth of winter here and there one makes its appearance. There are flowers of the fields and woods and hedgerows, of the seashore and the lake’s margin, of the Every color again, every variety of form, has some purpose and explanation. And yet, lovely as Flowers are, Leaves add even more to the Beauty of Nature. Trees in our northern latitudes seldom own large flowers; and though of course there are notable exceptions, such as the Horse-chestnut, still even in these cases the flowers live only a few days, while the leaves last for months. Every tree indeed is a picture in itself: The gnarled and rugged Oak, the symbol and source of our navy, sacred to the memory of the Druids, the type of strength, is the sovereign of British trees : the Chestnut has beautiful, tapering, and rich green, glossy leaves, delicious fruit, and wood so durable that to it we owe the grand and historic roof of Westminster Hall. The Birch is the queen of trees, with her feathery foliage, scarcely visible in spring but turning to gold in autumn; the pendulous twigs tinged with purple, and silver stems so brilliantly marked with black and white. The Beech enlivens the country by its tender green in spring, rich tints in summer, and glorious gold and orange in 1 Gray. 1 Shakespeare. G �THE PLEASURES OF LIFE 82 autumn, set off by the graceful gray stem ; and has, moreover, such a wealth of leaves that, as we see in autumn, there are enough not only to clothe the tree itself but to cover the grass underneath. If the Beech owes much to its delicate gray stem, quite as beautiful is the reddish crimson of the Scotch Pine, in such charming contrast with the rich green of the foliage, by which it is shown off rather than hidden. Pines, moreover, with the green spires of the Firs, keep the woods warm in winter. The Elm forms grand masses of foliage which turn a beautiful golden yellow in autumn ; and the Black Poplar with its perpendicular leaves, rustling and trem­ bling with every breath of wind, towers over most of our other forest trees. Nor must I overlook the smaller trees : the Yew with its thick green foliage ; the wild Guelder rose, which lights up the woods in autumn with translucent glossy berries and many-tinted leaves ; or the Bryonies, the Briar, the Traveller’s Joy, and many another plant, even humbler perhaps, and yet each with some exquisite beauty and grace of its own, so that we must all have sometimes felt our hearts overflowing with gladness and gratitude, as if the woods were full of music—as if “ The woods were filled so full with song There seemed no room for sense of wrong.”1 On the whole, no doubt, woodlands are most beautiful in the summer ; yet even in winter the delicate tracery of the branches, which cannot be so well seen when they are clothed with leaves, has a special beauty of its own ; while every now and then hoar frost or snow settles like silver on every branch and twig, lighting up the forest as if by enchant­ ment in preparation for some fairy festival. I feel with Jefferies that “by day or by night, summer or winter, beneath trees the heart feels nearer to that depth of life which the far sky means. The rest of spirit found only in beauty, ideal , 1 Tennyson. TART II and pure, comes there because the distance seems within touch of thought.” The general effect of forests in tropical regions must be very different from that of those in our latitudes. Kingsley describes it as one of helplessness, con­ fusion, awe, all but terror. The trunks are lofty and straight, rising to a great height without a branch, so that the wood seems at first comparatively open. In Brazilian forests, for instance, the trees struggle upwards, and the foliage forms an unbroken canopy, perhaps a hundred feet overheard. Here, indeed, high up in the air is the real life of the forest. Everything seems to climb to the light. The quadrupeds climb, birds climb, reptiles climb, and tlie variety of climb­ ing plants is far greater than anything to which we are accustomed. Many savage nations worship trees, and I really think my first feeling would be one of delight and interest rather than of surprise, if some day when I am alone in a wood one of the trees were to speak to me. Even by day there is something mysterious in a forest, and this is much more the case at night. With wood, Water seems to be natur­ ally associated. Without water no land­ scape is complete, while overhead the clouds add beauty to the heavens them­ selves. The spring and the rivulet, the brook, the river, and the lake, seem to give life to Nature, and were indeed re­ garded by our ancestors as living entities themselves. Water is beautiful in the morning mist, in the broad lake, in the glancing stream, in tlie river pool, or the wide ocean, beautiful in all its varied moods. Water nourishes vegetation ; it clothes the lowlands with green and the mountains with snow. It sculptures the rocks and excavates the valleys, in most cases acting mainly through the soft rain, though our harder rocks are still grooved by the ice-chisel of bygone ages. The refreshing power of water upon the earth is scarcely greater than that which it exercises on the mind of man. After a long spell of work how delightful �CHAP. VIII THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE 83 it is to sit by a lake or river, or on the and quarries and lines of stratification seashore, and enjoy the fresh air, the began to show themselves, though the glancing sunshine on the water, and the cliffs were still in shadow, and the more ripple of the waves upon sand. distant headlands still a mere succession Every Englishman loves the sight of of ghosts, each one fainter than the one the Sea. We feel that it is to us a second before it. As the morning advances the home. It seems to vivify the very at­ sea becomes blue, the dark woods, green mosphere, so that Sea air is proverbial as meadows, and golden cornfields of the a tonic, and the very thought of it makes opposite coast more distinct, the details the blood dance in our veins. The Ocean of the cliffs come gradually into view, gives an impression of freedom and and fishing-boats with dark sails begin to grandeur more intense perhaps even than appear. the aspect of the heavens themselves. A Gradually as the sun rises higher, a poor woman from Manchester, on being yellow line of shore appears under the taken to the seaside, is said to have ex­ opposite cliffs, and the sea changes its pressed her delight on seeing for the first color, mapping itself out as it were, the time something of which there was enough shallower parts turquoise blue, almost for everybody. The sea coast is always green ; the deeper ones violet. interesting. When we think of the cliff This does not last long—a thunderstorm sections with their histories of bygone comes up. The wind mutters overhead, ages ; the shore itself teeming with sea­ the rain patters on the leaves, the coast weeds and animals, waiting for the return opposite seems to shrink into itself, as if of the tide, or thrown up from deeper it would fly from the storm. The sea water by the waves; the weird cries of grows dark and rough, and white horses seabirds ; the delightful feeling that, with appear here and there. every breath, we are laying in a store of But the storm is soon over. The clouds fresh life, and health, and energy, it is break, the rain stops, the sun shines once impossible to over-estimate all we owe to more, the hills opposite come out again. the Sea. They are divided now not only into fields It is, moreover, always changing. We and woods, but into sunshine and shadow. went for our holiday last year to Lyme The sky clears, and as the sun begins to Regis. Let me attempt to describe the descend westwards the sea becomes one changes in the view from our windows beautiful clear uniform azure, changing during a single day. Our sitting-room again soon to pale blue in front and dark opened on to a little lawn, beyond which violet beyond; and once more, as clouds the ground dropped suddenly to the sea, begin to gather again, into an archipelago while over about two miles of water were of bright blue sea and islands of deep the hills of the Dorsetshire coast—-Golden ultramarine. As the sun travels west­ Cap, with its bright crest of yellow sand, ward, the opposite hills change again. and the dark blue Lias Cliff of Black Ven, They scarcely seem like the same country. When I came down early in the morning What was in sun is now in shade, and the sun was rising opposite, shining into what was in shade now lies bright in the the room over a calm sea, along an avenue sunshine. The sea once more becomes a of light; by degrees, as it rose, the whole uniform solid blue, only flecked in places sea glowed in the sunshine while the hills by scuds of wind, and becoming paler were bathed in a violet mist. By break­ towards evening as the sun sinks, the cliffs fast-time all color had faded from the which catch his setting rays losing their sea—it was like silver passing on each deep color and in some places looking side into gray ; the sky blue, flecked with almost as white as chalk ; while at sunset fleecy clouds ; while, on the gentler slopes they light up again for a moment with a of the coast opposite, fields and woods, | golden glow, the sea at the same time �84 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE sinking to a cold gray. But soon the hills grow cold too, Golden Cap holding out bravely to the last, and the shades of evening settle over cliff and wood, corn­ field and meadow. These are but a part, and a very small part, of the changes of a single day. And scarcely any two days are alike. At times a sea-fog covers everything. Again the sea which sleeps to-day so peacefully, sometimes rages, and the very existence of the bay itself bears witness to its force. The night, again, varies like the day. Sometimes shrouded by a canopy of dark­ ness, sometimes lit up by millions of brilliant worlds, sometimes bathed in the light of a moon, which never retains the same form for two nights together. If Lakes are less grand than the sea, they are in some respects even more lovely. The seashore is comparatively bare. The banks of Lakes are often richly clothed with vegetation which comes close down to the water’s edge, sometimes hanging even into the water itself. They are often studded with wellwooded islands. They are sometimes fringed with green meadows, sometimes bounded by rocky promontories rising directly from comparatively deep water ; while the calm bright surface is often fretted by a delicate pattern of interlacing ripples ; or reflects a second, softened, and inverted landscape. To water again we owe the marvellous spectacle of the rainbow—“ God’s bow in the clouds.” It is indeed truly a heavenly messenger, and so unlike anything else that it scarcely seems to belong to this world. Many things are colored, but the rain­ bow seems to be color itself. “ First the flaming red Sprang vivid forth ; the tawny orange next, And next delicious yellow ; by whose side Fell the kind beams of all-refreshing green. Then the pure blue that swells autumnal skies. Ethereal play’d ; and then, of sadder hue Emerged the deeper indigo (as when The heavy-skirted evening droops with frost), While the last gleamings of refracted light Died in the fainting violet away.”1 1 Thomson. PART II We do not, I think, sufficiently realise how wonderful is the blessing of color. It would have been possible, it would even seem more probable, that though light might have enabled us to perceive objects, this would only have been by shade and form. How we perceive color is not yet understood ; and yet when we speak of beauty, among the ideas which come to us most naturally are those of birds and butterflies, flowers and shells, precious stones, skies, and rainbows. Our minds might have been constituted exactly as they are, we might have been capable of comprehending the highest and sublimest truths, and yet, but for a small organ in the head, the world of sound would have been shut out from us ; we should have lost all the varied melody of nature, the charms of music, the conversa­ tion of friends, and have been condemned to perpetual silence: a slight alteration in the retina, which is not thicker than a sheet of paper, not larger than a finger­ nail,—and the glorious spectacle of this beautiful world, the exquisite variety of form, the glow and play of color, the variety of scenery, of woods and fields, and lakes and hills, seas and mountains, the beauty of the sky alike by day and night, would all have been lost to us. Mountains, again, “ seem to have been built for the human race, as at once their schools and cathedrals ; full of treasures of illuminated manuscript for the scholar, kindly in simple lessons for the worker, quiet in pale cloisters for the thinker, glorious in holiness for the worshipper.” They are “great cathedrals of the earth, with their gates of rock, pavements of cloud, choirs of stream and stone, altars of snow, and vaults of purple traversed by the continual stars.” 1 All these beauties are comprised in Tennyson’s exquisite description of (Enone’s vale—the city, flowers, trees, river, and mountains. “ There lies a vale in Ida, lovelier Than all the valleys of Ionian hills. 1 Ruskin. �CHAP. VIII THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE The swimming vapour slopes athwart the glen, Puts forth an arm, and creeps from pine to pine, And loiters, slowly drawn. On either hand The lawns and meadow-ledges midway down Hang rich in flowers, and far below them roars The long brook falling thro’ the clov’n ravine In cataract after cataract to the sea. Behind the valley topmost Gargarus Stands up and takes the morning; but in front The gorges, opening wide apart, reveal Troas and Ilion’s column’d citadel, The crown of Troas.” 85 The evening colors indeed soon fade away, but as night comes on, “ how glows the firmament With living sapphires ! Hesperus that led The starry host, rode brightest ; till the moon Rising in clouded majesty, at length, Apparent queen, unveiled her peerless light, And o’er the dark her silver mantle threw.” 1 We generally speak of a beautiful night when it is calm and clear, and the stars shine brightly overhead ; but how grand And when we raise our eyes from earth, also are the wild ways of Nature, how who has not sometimes felt “ the witchery magnificent when the lightning flashes, of the soft blue sky ” ? who has not “ between gloom and glory ” ; when watched a cloud floating upwards as if on ‘ ‘ From peak to peak, the rattling crags among its way to heaven ? Leaps the live thunder. ” 2 And yet “if, in our moments of utter In the words of Ossian— idleness and insipidity, we turn to the sky “ Ghosts ride in the tempest to-night; as a last resource, which of its phenomena Sweet is their voice between the gusts of wind, do we speak of? One says, it has been Their songs are of other worlds.” wet; and another, it has been w'indy; Nor are the -wonders and beauties of the and another, it has been warm. Who, heavens limited by the clouds and the blue among the whole chattering crowd, can sky, lovely as they are. In the heavenly tell me of the forms and the precipices bodies we have before us the perpetual of the chain of tall white mountains that presence of the sublime. They-are so im­ girded the horizon at noon yesterday 1 mense and so far away, and yet on soft Who saw the narrow sunbeam that came summer nights “they seem leaning down out of the south, and smote upon their to whisper in the ear of our souls.” 3 summits until they melted and mouldered “ A man can hardly lift up his eyes to­ away in a dust of blue rain ? Who saw wards the heavens,” says Seneca, “ without the dance of the dead clouds when the sun­ wonder and veneration, to see so many light left them last night, and the west millions of radiant lights, and to observe wind blew them before it like withered their courses and revolutions, even with­ leaves ? All has passed, unregretted as out any respect to the common good of the unseen ; or if the apathy be ever shaken Universe.” off, even for an instant, it is only by -what Who does not sympathise with the is gross, or what is extraordinary ; and feelings of Dante as he rose from his visit yet it is not in the broad and fierce mani­ to the lower regions, until, he says, festations of the elemental energies, not in the clash of the hail, nor the drift of the “ On our view the beautiful lights of heaven Dawned through a circular opening in the cave, whirlwind, that the highest characters of Thence issuing, we again beheld the stars.” the sublime are developed.” 1 As we watch the stars at night they But exquisitely lovely as is the blue arch of the midday sky, with its inexhaust­ seem so still and motionless that we can ible variety of clouds, “ there is yet a light hardly realise that all the time they are which the eye invariably seeks with a rushing on with a velocity far far exceed­ deeper feeling of the beautiful, the light ing any that man has ever accomplished. Like the sands of the sea, the stars of of the declining or breaking day, and the flakes of scarlet cloud burning like heaven have ever been used as an appro­ watch-fires in thegreen sky ofthe horizon.” 2 priate symbol of number, and we know that therfe are more than 100,000,000 ; 1 Ruskin. 2 Ibid. 1 Milton. 2 Byron. 3 Symonds. �86 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE many, no doubt, with planets of their own. But this is by no means all. The floor of heaven is not only “ thick inlaid with patines of bright gold,” but is studded also with extinct stars, once probably as bril­ liant as our own sun, but now dead and cold, as Helmholtz thinks that our own sun will be some seventeen millions of years hence. Then, again, there are the comets, which, though but few are visible to the unaided eye, are even more numerous than the stars ; there are the nebulae, and the countless minor bodies circulating in space, and occasionally visible as meteors. Nor is it only the number of the heavenly bodies which is so overwhelm­ ing ; their magnitude and distances are almost more impressive. The ocean is so deep and broad as to be almost infinite, and indeed in so far as our imagination is the limit, so it may be. Yet what is the ocean compared to the sky ? Our globe is little compared to the giant orbs of Jupiter and Saturn, which again sink into insignificance by the side of the Sun. The Sun itself is almost as nothing com-, pared with the dimensions of the solar system. Sirius is a thousand times as great as the Sun, and a million times as far away. The solar system itself travels in one region of space, sailing between worlds and worlds ; and is surrounded by many other systems at least as great and complex; while we know that even then we have not reached the limits of the Universe itself. There are stars so distant that their light, though travelling 180,000 miles in a second, yet takes years to reach us ; and beyond all these are other systems of stars which are so far away that they cannot be perceived singly, but even in our most powerful telescopes appear only as minute clouds or nebulae. The velocities of the Heavenly bodies are equally astounding. We ourselves make our annual journey round the Sun at the rate of 1000 miles a minute ; of the so-called “ fixed ” stars Sirius moves at the same rate, and Arcturus no less than 22,000 miles a minute. And yet PART II the distances of the stars are so great that 1000 years makes hardly any differ­ ence in the appearance of the Heavens. It is, indeed, but a feeble expression of the truth to say that the infinities re­ vealed to us by Science,—the infinitely great in the one direction, and the in­ finitely small in the other,—go far beyond anything which had occurred to the un­ aided imagination of Man, and are not only a never-failing source of pleasure and interest, but lift us above the petty troubles, and help us to bear the greater sorrows, of life. CHAPTER IX THE TROUBLES OF LIFE “ Count each affliction, whether light or grave, God’s messenger sent down to thee ; Grief should be Like joy, majestic, equable, sedate ; Confirming, cleansing, raising, making free ; Strong to consume small troubles ; to commend Great thoughts, grave thoughts, thoughts lasting to the end.” Aubrey be Vere. We have in life many troubles, and troubles are of many kinds. Some sorrows, alas, are real enough, especially those we bring on ourselves, but others, and by no means the least numerous, are mere ghosts of troubles : if we face them boldly, we find that they have no sub­ stance or reality, but are mere creations of our own morbid imagination, and that it is as true now as in the time of David that “ Man disquieteth himself in a vain shadow.” Some, indeed, of our troubles are evils, but not real; while others are real, but not evils. “ And yet, into how unfathomable a gulf the mind rushes when the troubles of this world agitate it. If it then forget its own light, which is eternal joy, and rush into the outer darkness, which are the �CHAP. IX THE TROUBLES OF LIFE cares of this world, as the mind now does, it knows nothing else but lamentations.” 1 “Athens,” said Epictetus, “is a good place,—but happiness is much better ; to be free from passions, free from dis­ turbance.” We should endeavour to maintain our­ selves in “ that blessed mood In which the burden of the mystery, In which the heavy and the weary weight, Of all this unintelligible world Is lightened.” 2 87 happen equally to good men and bad, being things which make us neither better nor worse.” “ The greatest evils,” observes Jeremy Taylor, “ are from within us ; and from ourselves also we must look for our greatest good.” “ The mind,” says Milton, “ is its own place, and in itself Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.” Milton indeed in his blindness saw more beautiful visions, and Beethoven in his deafness heard more heavenly music, So shall we fear “neither the exile of than most of us can ever hope to enjoy. Aristides, nor the prison of Anaxagoras, We are all apt, when we know not nor the poverty of Socrates, nor the con­ what may happen, to fear the worst. demnation of Phocion, but think virtue When we know the full extent of any worthy our love even under such trials.” 3 : danger, it is half over. Hence, we dread We should then be, to a great extent, in-1 ghosts more than robbers, not only with­ dependent of external circumstanced, for out reason, but against reason ; for even if ghosts existed, how could they hurt us ? “ Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage, and in ghost stories, few, even of those Minds innocent and quiet take who say that they have seen ,a ghost, ever That for an hermitage. profess or pretend to have felt one. “ If I have freedom in my love, Milton, in his description of death, And in my soul am free ; dwells on this characteristic of obscurity : Angels alone that soar above Enjoy such liberty.” 4 In the wise words of Shakespeare, “ All places that the eye of Heaven visits Are to the wise man ports and happy havens.” “ The other shape— If shape it might be call’d that shape had none Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb ; Or substance might be call’d that shadow seem’d, For each seem’d either—black he stood as night, Fierce as ten furies, terrible as hell. And shook a dreadful dart. What seem’d his head The likeness of a kingly crown had on.” Happiness indeed depends much more on what is within than without us. When Hamlet says that the world is “ a goodly prison ; in which there are many confines, wards, and dungeons; Denmark The effect of darkness and night in being one of the worst,” and Rosencrantz enhancing terrors is dwelt on in one of differs from him, he rejoins wisely, “ Why the sublimest passages in Job— then, ’tis none to you : for there is “ In thoughts from the visions of the night, nothing either good or bad, but thinking When deep sleep falleth on men, makes it so : to me it is a prison.” Fear came upon me, and trembling, Which made all my bones to shake. “All is opinion,” said Marcus Aurelius. Then a spirit passed before my face ; “ That which does not make a man worse, The hair of my flesh stood up : how can it make his life worse ? But It stood still, but I could not discern the form death certainly, and life, honor and dis­ thereof: An image was before mine eyes, honor, pain and pleasure, all these things 1 King Alfred’s translation of the Consola­ tions of Boethius. 2 Wordsworth. 3 Plutarch. 4 Lovelace. There was silence, and I heard a voice, saying, Shall mortal man be more just than God ? ” Thus was the terror turned into a lesson of comfort and of mercy. �88 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE We often magnify troubles and diffi­ culties, and look at them till they seein much greater than they really are. Dangers are often “ light, if they once seem light; and more dangers have deceived men than forced them: nay, it were better to meet some dangers half way, though they come nothing near, than to keep too long a watch upon their approaches ; for if a man watch too long, it is odds he will fall asleep.” 1 Foresight is wise, but fore-sorrow is foolish ; and castles are at any rate better than dungeons, in the air. It happens, unfortunately too often, that by some false step, intentional or unintentional, we have missed the right road, and gone astray. Can we then retrace our steps ? can we recover what is lost ? This may be done. It is too gloomy a view to affirm that “ A sigh too much, or a kiss too long, And there comes a mist and a weeping rain, And life is never the same again.” 2 There are two noble sayings of Socrates, that to do evil is more to be avoided than to suffer it; and that when a man has done evil, it is better for him to be punished than to be unpunished. We generally speak of selfishness as a fault, and as if it interfered with the general happiness. But this is not alto­ gether correct. The pity is that so many people are foolishly selfish ; that they pursue a course of action which neither makes themselves nor any one else happy. Is there not some truth in Goethe’s saying, though I do not altogether agree with him, that “ every man ought to begin with himself, and make his own happiness first, from which the happiness of the whole world would at last unquestionably follow” ? This is perhaps too broadly stated, and of course exceptions might be pointed out : but assuredly if every one would avoid excess, and take care of his own health ; would keep himself strong and cheerful; would make his home 1 Bacon. 2 G. Macdonald. PART II happy, and’give no cause for the petty vexations which often embitter domestic life ; would attend to his own affairs and keep himself sober and solvent; would, in the words of the Chinese proverb, “sweep away the snow from before his own door, and never mind the frost upon his neighbour’s tiles”: even though it were not from the nobler motives, still, how well it would be for his family, relations, and friends. But, unfortunately, “ Look round the habitable world, how few Know their own good, or, knowing it, pursue.”1 It would be a great thing if people could be brought to realise that they can never add to the sum of their happiness by doing wrong. In the case of children, indeed, we recognise this ; we perceive that a spoilt child is not a happy one; that it would have been far better for him to have been punished at first and thus saved from greater suffering in after life. The beautiful idea that every man has with him a Guardian Angel is true in­ deed : for Conscience is ever on the watch, | ever ready to warn us of danger. No doubt we often feel disposed to complain, and yet it is most ungrateful: ‘‘ For who would lose, Though full of pain, this intellectual being, Those thoughts that wander through Eternity ; To perish rather, swallowed up, and lost In the wide womb of uncreated thought! ” 2 But perhaps it will be said that we are sent here in preparation for another and a better world. Well, then, why should we complain of what is but a preparation for future happiness ? We ought to “ Count each affliction, whether light or grave, God’s messenger sent down to thee ; do thou With courtesy receive him ; rise and bow ; And, ere his shadow pass thy threshold, crave Permission first his heavenly feet to lave ; Then lay before him all thou hast; allow No cloud of passion to usurp thy brow, Or mar thy hospitality ; no wave Of mortal tumult to obliterate 1 Dryden. 2 Milton. �LABOUR AND REST CHAP. X and joy”; and if properly understood, would enable us “ to acquiesce in the present without repining, to remember the past with thankfulness, and to meet the future hopefully and cheerfully with­ out fear or suspicion.” The soul’s marmoreal calmness : Grief should be Like joy, majestic, equable, sedate ; Confirming, cleansing, raising, making free ; Strong to consume small troubles ; to commend Great thoughts, grave thoughts, thoughts lasting to the end.” 1 Some persons are like the waters of Bethesda, and require to be troubled before they can exercise their virtue. “We shall get more contentedness,” CHAPTER X says Plutarch, “ from the presence of all LABOUR AND REST these blessings if we fancy them as absent, and remember from time to time how “ Through labour to rest, through combat to people when ill yearn for health, and victory.” Thomas a Kempis. people in war for peace, and strangers and unknown in a great city for reputa­ Among the troubles of life I do not, of tion and friends, and how painful it is to course, reckon the necessity of labour. Work indeed, and hard work too, if be deprived of all these when one has once had them. For then each of these only it be in moderation, is in itself a blessings will not appear to us only great rich source of happiness. We all know and valuable when it is lost, and of no how quickly time passes when we are value when we have it. . . . And yet it well employed, while the moments hang makes much for contentedness of mind to heavily on the hands of the idle. Occupa­ look for the most part at home and to our tion drives away care and all the small own condition ; or if not, to look at the troubles of life. The busy man has no case of people worse off than ourselves, time to brood or to fret. and not, as people do, to compare our­ “ From toil he wins his spirits light, selves with those who are better off. . . . From busy day the peaceful night ; But you will find others, Chians, or Rich, from the very want of wealth, Galatians, or Bithynians, not content In Heaven’s best treasures, peace, and health.” 1 with the share of glory or power they have among their fellow-citizens, but This applies especially to t^e labour of weeping because they do not wear sena­ the field and the workshop. Humble it tors’ shoes ; or, if they have them, that may be, but if it does not dazzle with the they cannot be praetors at Rome; or if promise of fame, it gives the satisfaction they get that office, that they are not of duty fulfilled, and the inestimable consuls ; or if they are consuls, that they blessing of health. As Emerson reminds are only proclaimed second and not first. those entering life, “ The angels that live . . . Whenever, then, you admire any one with them, and are weaving laurels of life carried by in his litter as a greater man for their youthful brows, are toil and truth than yourself, lower your eyes and look and mutual faith.” at those that bear the litter.” And again, Labour was truly said by the ancients “ I am very taken with Diogenes’ remark to be the price which the gods set upon to a stranger at Lacedaemon, who was everything worth having. We all admit, dressing with much display for a feast. though we often forget, the marvellous ‘ Does not a good man consider every day power of perseverance; and yet all Nature, a feast ? ’ . . . Seeing then that life is down to Bruce’s spider, is continually the most complete initiation into all these | impressing this lesson on us. things, it ought to be full of ease of mind J Hard writing makes easy reading ; 1 Aubrey de Vere. . 1 Gray. �THE PLEASURES OF LIFE 9° Plato is said to have rewritten the first page of the Aepit&Zic thirteen times ; and Carlo Maratti, we are told, made three hundred sketches of the head of Antinous before he brought it to his satisfaction. It is better to wear out than to rust out, and there is “ a dust which settles on the heart, as well as that which rests upon the ledge.”1 At the present time, though there may be some special drawbacks, we come to our work with many advantages which were not enjoyed in olden times. We live in much greater security ourselves, and are less liable to have the fruits of our labour torn violently from us. But though labour is good for man, it may be, and unfortunately often is, carried to excess. Many are wearily asking themselves “ All why Should life all labour be ? ” 2 There is a time for all things, says Solomon, a time to work and a time to play : we shall work all the better for reasonable change, and one reward of work is to secure leisure. It is a good saying that where there’s a will there’s a way ; but while it is all very well to wish, wishes must not take the place of work. In whatever sphere his duty lies, every man must rely mainly on himself. Others can help us, but we must make ourselves. No one else can see for us. To profit by our advantages we must learn to use for ourselves “The dark lantern of the spirit Which none can see by, but he who bears it. ” It is hardly an exaggeration to say that honest work is never thrown away. If we do not find the imaginary treasure, at any rate we enrich the vineyard. “Work,” says Nature to man, “in every hour, paid or unpaid; see only that thou work, and thou canst not escape the reward : whether thy work be fine or coarse, planting corn or writing 1 Jefferies. 2 Tennyson. part II epics, so only it be honest work, done to thine own approbation, it shall earn a reward to the senses as well as to the thought: no matter how often defeated, you are born to victory. The reward of a thing well done is to have done it.” 1 Nor can any work, however persever­ ing, or any success, however great, exhaust the prizes of life. The most studious, the most successful, must recognise that there yet remain “ So much to do that is not e’en begun, So much to hope for that we cannot see, So much to win, so many things to be.”2 In olden times the difficulties of study were far greater than they are now. Books were expensive and cumbersome, in many cases moreover chained to the desks on which they were kept. The greatest scholars have often been very poor. Erasmus used to read by moonlight because he could not afford a candle, and “ begged a penny, not for the love of charity, but for the love of learning.” 3 Want of time is no excuse for idleness. “ Our life,” says Jeremy Taylor, “ is too short to serve the ambition of a haughty prince or a usurping rebel; too little time to purchase great wealth, to satisfy the pride of a vainglorious fool, to trample upon all the enemies of our just or unjust interest: but for the obtaining virtue, for the purchase of sobriety and modesty, for the actions of religion, God gives us time sufficient, if we make the outgoings of the morning and evening, that is our infancy and old age, to be taken into the computations of a man.” Work is so much a necessity of exist­ ence, that it is less a question whether, than how, w’e shall work. An old saying tells us that the Devil finds work for those who do not make it for themselves and there is a Turkish proverb that the Devil tempts the busy man, but the idle man tempts the Devil. If we Englishmen have succeeded as a 2 W. Morris. 1 Emerson. 3 Coleridge. �LABOUR AND REST CHAP. X race, it has been due in no small measure to the fact that we have worked hard. Not only so, but we have induced the forces of Nature to work for us. “ Steam,” says Emerson, “ is almost an Englishman.” The power of work has especially characterised our greatest men. Cecil said of Sir W. Raleigh that he “ could toil terribly.” We are most of us proud of belonging to the greatest Empire the world has ever seen. It may be said of us with especial truth in Wordsworth’s words that “ The world is too much with us ; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers.” Yes, but what world ? The world will be with us sure enough, and whether we please or not. But what sort of world it will be for us, will depend greatly on ourselves. We are told to pray not to be taken out of the world, but to be kept from the evil. There are various ways of working. Quickness may be good, but haste is bad. “Wie das Gestirn Ohne Hast . Ohne Rast Drehe sich Jeder Um die eigne Last.”1 “Like a star, without haste, without rest, let every one fulfil his own best.” Lastly, work secures the rich reward of rest ; we must rest to be able to work well, and work to be able to enjoy rest. “We must no doubt beware that our rest become not the rest of stones, which so long as they are torrent-tossed and thunder-stricken maintain their majesty ; but when the stream is silent, and the storm past, suffer the grass to cover them, and the lichen to feed on them, and are ploughed down into the dust. . . . The rest which is glorious is of the chamois couched breathless in its granite bed, not of the stalled ox over his fodder.” 2 When we have done our best we may wait the result without anxiety. “ What hinders a man, who has clearly 1 Goethe. 2 Ruskin. 9i comprehended these things, from living with a light heart and bearing easily the reins ; quietly expecting everything which can happen, and enduring that which has already happened ? Would you have me to bear poverty ? Come and you will know what poverty is when it has found one who can act well the part of a poor man. Would you have me to possess power1? Let me have power, and also the trouble of it. Well, banishment ? Wherever I shall go, there it will be well with me.” 1 “We complain,” says Ruskin, “of the want of many things—-we want votes, we want liberty, we want amusement, we want money. Which of us feels, or knows, that he wants peace ? “ There are two ways of getting it, if you do want it. The first is wholly in your own power; to make yourselves nests of pleasant thoughts. . . . None of us yet know, for none of us have yet been taught in early youth, what fairy palaces we may build of beautiful thought—proof against all adversity. Bright fancies, satisfied memories, noble histories, faith­ ful sayings, treasure-houses of precious and restful thoughts ; which care cannot disturb, nor pain make gloomy, nor poverty take away from us—houses built without hands, for our souls to live in.” The Buddhists believe in many forms of future punishment; but the highest reward of virtue is Nirvana—the final and eternal rest. Very touching is the appeal of Ashmanezer to be left in peace, which was engraved on his Sarcophagus at Sidon.2 “ In the month of Bui, the fourteenth year of my reign, I, King Ashmanezer, King of the Sidonians, son of King Tabuith, King of the Sidonians, spake, saying : ‘ I have been stolen away before my time—a son of the flood of days. The whilom great is dumb ; the son of gods is dead. And I rest in this grave, even in this tomb, in the place which I have built. My adjuration to all the Ruling Powers and all men : Let no one 1 Epictetus. 2 Now in Paris. �9* THE PLEASURES OF LIFE open this resting-place, nor search for treasure, for there is no treasure with us ; and let him not bear away the couch of my rest, and not trouble us in this resting-place by disturbing the couch of my slumbers. . . . For all men who should open the tomb of my rest, or any man who should carry away the couch of my rest, or any one who trouble me on this couch : unto them there shall be no rest with the departed : they shall not be buried in a grave, and there shall be to them neither son nor seed. . . . There shall be to them neither root below nor fruit above, nor honour among the living under the sun.’ ” 1 The idle man does not know what it is to enjoy rest, for he has not earned it. Hard work, moreover, tends not only to give us rest for the body, but, what is even more important, peace to the mind. If we have done our best to do, and to be, we can rest in peace. “ En la sua voluntade e nostra pace.” 2 In His will is our peace ; and in such peace the mind will find its truest delight, for “When, care sleeps, the soul wakes.” In youth, as is right enough, the idea of exertion, and of struggles, is inspiriting and delightful; but as years advance the hope and prospect of peace and of rest gain ground gradually, and “ When the last dawns are fallen on gray, And all life’s toils and ease complete, They know who work, not they who play If rest is sweet.” 3 1 From Sir M. E. Grant Duff’s A Winter in Syria. 2 Dante. 3 Symonds. PART II CHAPTER XT RELIGION “ And what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God ? ”—Micah. “Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.”—James i. “The letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life.” 2 Corinthians. It would be quite out of place here to enter into any discussion of theological problems or to advocate any particular doctrines. Nevertheless I could not omit what is to most so great a comfort and support in sorrow and suffering, and a source of the purest happiness. We commonly, however, bring together under the name of Religion two things which are yet very different: the religion of the heart, and that of the head. The first deals with conduct, and the duties of Man ; the second with the nature of the supernatural and the future of the Soul, being in fact a branch of knowledge. Religion should be a strength, guide, and comfort, not a source of intellectual anxiety or angry argument. To persecute for religion’s sake implies belief in a jealous, cruel, and unjust Deity. If we have done our best to arrive at the truth, to torment oneself about the result is to doubt the goodness of God, and, in the words of Bacon, “ to bring down the Holy Ghost, instead of the likeness of a dove, in the shape of a raven.” “ The letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life,” and it is a primary duty to form the highest possible conception of God. Many, however, and especially many women, render themselves miserable on entering life by theological doubts and difficulties. These have reference, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, not to what we should do, but to what we should think. As regards action, con- �RELIGION CHAP. XI science is generally a ready guide; to follow it is the real difficulty. Theology, on the other hand, is a most abstruse science ; but as long as we honestly wish to arrive at truth we need not fear that we shall be punished for unintentional error. “For what,” says Micah, “doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God.” There is very little theology in the Sermon on the Mount, or indeed in any part of the first three Gospels ; and the differences which keep us apart have their origin rather in the study than the Church. Religion was intended to bring peace on earth and goodwill towards men, and whatever tends to hatred and perse­ cution, however correct in the letter, must be utterly wrong in the spirit. How much misery would have been saved to Europe if Christians had been satisfied with the Sermon on the Mount! Bokhara is said to have contained more than three hundred colleges, all occupied with theology, but ignorant of everything else, and it was probably one of the most bigoted and uncharitable cities in the world. “ Knowledge puffeth up, but charity edifieth.” We must not forget that “ He prayeth best who lovetli best All things both great and small.” 1 Theologians too often appear to agree that “ The awful shadow of some unseen power Floats, though unseen, among us ” ; 2 and in the days of the Inquisition many must have sighed for the cheerful childlike religion of the Greeks, if they could but have had the Nymphs and Nereids, the Fays and Faeries, with Destiny and Fate, but without Jupiter and Mars. Sects are the work of Sectarians. No truly great religious teacher, as Carlyle said, ever intended to found a new Sect. Diversity of worship, says a Persian proverb, “ has divided the human race into seventy-two nations. From among all their dogmas I have selected one—‘ Di­ vine Love.’ ” And again, “ He needs no 1 Coleridge. 2 Shelley. 93 other rosary whose thread of life is struug with the beads of love and thought.” There is more true Christianity in some pagan Philosophers than in certain Chris­ tian theologians. Take, for instance, Plato, Marcus Aurelius, Epictetus, and Plutarch. “ Now I, Callicles,” says Socrates, “ am persuaded of the truth of these things, and I consider how I shall present my soul whole and undefiled before the judge in that day. Renouncing the honours at which the world aims, I desire only to know the truth, and to live as well as I can, and, when the time comes, to die. And, to the utmost of my power, I exhort all other men to do the same. And in return for your exhortation of me, I exhort you also to take part in the great combat, which is the combat of life, and greater than every other earthly conflict.” “As to piety towards the Gods,” says Epictetus, “you must know that this is the chief thing, to have right opinions about them, to think that they exist, and that they administer the All well and justly; and you must fix yourself in this principle (duty), to obey them, and to yield to them in everything which happens, and voluntarily to follow it as being accomplished by the wisest intelligence.” “ Do not act,” says Marcus Aurelius, “ as if thou wert going to live ten thousand years. Death hangs over thee. While thou livest, while it is in thy power, be good. . . . “ Since it is possible that thou mayest depart from life this very moment, regu­ late every act and thought accordingly. But to go away from among men, if there be Gods, is not a thing to be afraid of, for the Gods will not involve thee in evil; but if indeed they do not exist, or if they have no concern about human affairs, what is it to me to live in a universe devoid of Gods, or without a Providence. But in truth they do exist, and they do care for human things, and they have put all the means in man’s power to enable him not to fall into real �94 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE evils. And as for the rest, if there was anything evil, they would have provided for this also, that it should be altogether in a man’s power not to fall into it.” And Plutarch : “ The Godhead is not blessed by reason of his silver and gold, nor yet Almighty through his thunder and lightnings, but on account of know­ ledge and intelligence.” It is no doubt very difficult to arrive at the exact teaching of Eastern Moralists, but the same spirit runs through Oriental Literature. For instance, in the Toy Cart of King Sudraka, the earliest Sanskrit drama with which we are ac­ quainted, when the wicked Prince tempts Vita to murder the Heroine, and says that no one would see him, Vita declares “ All nature would behold the crime— the Genii of the Grove, the Sun, the Moon, the Winds, the Vault of Heaven, the firm - set Earth, the mighty Yama who judges the dead, and the conscious Soul.” There is indeed a tone of doubting sad­ ness in Roman moralists, as in Hadrian’s dying lines to his soul— “Animula, vagula, blandula Hospes, comesque corporis Qua nunc abibis in loca : Pallidula, rigida, nudula, Nec, ut soles, dabis jocos.” PART II than to say that Plutarch is a man in­ constant, fickle, easily moved to anger, revengeful for trifling provocations, vexed at small things.” Many things have been mistaken for religion ; selfishness especially, but also fear, hope, love of music, of art, of pomp ; scruples often take the place of love, and the glory of heaven is sometimes made to depend upon precious stones and jewellery. Many, as has been well said, run after Christ, not for the miracles, but for the loaves. In many cases religious differences are mainly verbal. There is an Eastern tale of four men, an Arab, a Persian, a Turk, and a Greek, who agreed to club together for an evening meal, but when they had done so they quarrelled as to what it should be. The Turk proposed Azum, the Arab Aneb, the Persian Anghur, while the Greek insisted on Staphylion. While they were disputing “ Before their eyes did pass Laden with grapes, a gardener’s ass. Sprang to his feet each man, and showed, With eager hand, that purple load. ‘ See Azum,’ said the Turk ; and ‘ see Anghur,’ the Persian ; 1 what should be Better.’ ‘Nay Aneb, Aneb ’tis, ’ The Arab cried. The Greek said, 'This Is my Staphylion.’ Then they bought Their grapes in peace. Hence be ye taught.” 1 The same spirit is expressed in the It is said that on one occasion, when epitaph on the tomb of the Duke of Dean Stanley had been explaining his Buckingham in Westminster Abbey— views to Lord Beaconsfield, the latter replied, “ Ah 1 Mr. Dean, that is all very “ Dubins non improbus vixi Incertus morior, non perturbatus ; well, but you must remember,—No dog­ Humanum est nescire et errare, mas, no Deans.” To lose such Deans as Deo confido Stanley would indeed be a great misfor­ Omnipotent! benevolentissimo : tune ; but does it follow ? Religions, far Ens entium miserere mei.” from being really built on Dogmas, are Take even the most extreme type of too often weighed down and crushed by difference. Is the man, says Plutarch, them. No one can doubt that Stanley “ a criminal who holds there are no gods ; has done much to strengthen the Church and is not he that holds them to be such of England. as the superstitious believe them, is he We may not always agree with Spinoza, not possessed with notions infinitely more but is he not right when he says, “ The atrocious 1 I for my part would much first precept of the divine law, therefore, rather have men say of me that there indeed its sum and substance, is to love never was a Plutarch at all, nor is now, 1 Arnold. Pearls of the Faith. �RELIGION CHAP. XI God unconditionally as the supreme good —unconditionally, I say, and not from any love or fear of aught besides ” ? And again, that the very essence of religion is belief in “ a Supreme Being who delights in justice and mercy, whom all who would be saved are bound to obey, and whose worship consists in the practice of justice and charity towards our neighbours ” ? “ Theology,” says the Master of Balliol, “is full of undefined terms which have distracted the human mind for ages. Mankind have reasoned from them, but not to them; they have drawn out the conclusions without proving the premises ; they have asserted the premises without examining the terms. The passions of religious parties have been roused to the utmost about words of which they could have given no explanation, and which had really no distinct meaning.” 1 Doubt is of two natures, and we often confuse a wise suspension of judgment with the weakness of hesitation. To pro­ fess an opinion for which we have no sufficient reason is clearly illogical, but when it is necessary to act we must do so on the best evidence available, however slight that may be. Why should we expect Religion to solve questions with reference to the origin and destiny of the universe ? We do not expect the most elaborate treatise to tell us as yet the origin of electricity or of heat. Natural History throws no light on the origin of life. Has Biology ever professed to explain existence ? Simonides was asked at Syracuse by Hiero, who or what God was, when he requested a day’s time to think of his answer. On subsequent days he always doubled the period required for deliber­ ation ; and when Hiero inquired the reason, he replied that the longer he considered the subject, the more obscure it appeared. The Vedas say, “In the midst of the sun is the light, in the midst of light is truth, and in the midst of truth is the imperishable being.” Deity has been defined as a circle whose centre is every1 Jowett’s Plato, 95 where, and whose circumference is no­ where ; but the “ God is love ” of St. John appeals more forcibly to the human soul. “ Love suffereth long, and is kind ; Love envieth not; Love vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, Doth not behave itself unseemly, Seeketh not her own, Is not easily provoked, Thinketh no evil; Rejoieeth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth ; Beareth all things, believeth all things, Hopeth all things, endureth all things. Love never faileth ; but whether there be pro­ phecies, they shall fail : whether there be tongues, they shall cease ; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away. ... Now abideth Faith, Hope, Love, these three ; but the greatest of these is Love.” 1 The Church is not a place for study or speculation. Few but can sympathise with Eugenie de Guerin in her tender affection for the little Chapel at Cahuzac, where she tells us she freed herself from “ tant de miseres.” Doubt does not exclude faith. “ Perplext in faith, but pure in deeds, At last he beat his music out. There lives more faith in honest doubt, Believe me, than in half the creeds.” 2 Unfortunately many have attempted to compound for wickedness of life by purity of belief; a vain and fruitless effort. To do right is the sure ladder which leads up to Heaven, though the true faith will help us to find and to climb it. “ It was my duty to have loved the highest, It surely was my profit had I known, It would have been my pleasure had I seen.” 3 But though religious truth can justify no bitterness, it is well worth any amount of thought and study. If we must admit that many points are still, and probably long will be, involved in obscurity, we may be pardoned if we indulge ourselves in various speculations both as to our beginning and our end. 1 St. Paul, 2 Tennyson. 3 Ibid. �& THE PLEASURES OF LIFE ‘ ‘ Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh from afar : Not in entire forgetfulness, And not in utter nakedness, But trailing clouds of glory do we come From God, who is our home.” 1 I hope I shall not be supposed to depreciate any honest effort to arrive at truth, or to undervalue the devotion of those who have died for their religion. But surely it is a mistake to regard martyrdom as a merit, when from their own point of view it was in reality a privilege. Let every man be persuaded in his own mind “Truth is the highest thing that man may keep.” 2 It is impossible to overvalue the power “ which the soul has of loving truth and doing all things for the sake of truth. ” 3 To arrive at truth we should spare our­ selves no pains, but certainly inflict none on others. We may be sure that quarrels will never advance religion, and that to per­ secute is no way to convert. No doubt those who consider that all who do not agree with them will suffer eternal tor­ ments, seem logically justified in persecu­ tion even unto death. Such a course, if carried out consistently, might stamp out a particular sect, and any sufferings which could be inflicted here would on this hypothesis be as nothing in comparison with the pains of Hell. Only it must be admitted that such a view of religion is quite irreconcilable with the teaching of Christ, and incompatible with any faith in the goodness of God. Moreover, the Inquisition has even from its own point of view proved gener­ ally a failure. The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church. “ In obedience to the order of the Council of Constance (1415) the remains of Wickliffe were exhumed and burnt to 1 Wordsworth. 2 Chaucer. 3 Plato. TART II ashes, and these cast into the Swift, a neighbouring brook running hard by, and thus this brook hath conveyed his ashes into Avon ; Avon into Severn ; Severn into the narrow seas ; they into the main ocean. And thus the ashes of Wickliffe are the emblem of his doctrine, which now is dispersed all the world over?’1 The Talmud says that when a man once asked Shamai to teach him the Law in one lesson, Shamai drove him away in anger. He then went to Hillel with the same request. Hillel said, “Do unto others as you would have others do unto you. This is the whole Law ; the rest, merely Commentaries upon it.” Collect from the Bible all that Christ thought necessary for His disciples, and how little Dogma there is. Christianity is based, not on Dogma, but on Charity and Love. “ By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.” “ Suffer little children to come unto me.” And one lesson which little children have to teach us is that religion is an affair of the heart and not of the mind only. St. James sums up as the teaching of Christ that “Pure religion and undefiled is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.” The Religion of the lower races is almost as a rule one of terror and of dread. Their deities are jealous and revengeful, cruel, merciless, and selfish, hateful and yet childish. They require to be propitiated by feasts and offerings, often even by human sacrifices. They are not only exacting, but so capricious that, with the best intentions, it is often impossible to be sure of pleasing them. From the dread of such evil beings Sorcerers and Witches derived their hellish powers. No one was safe. No one knew where danger lurked. Actions apparently the most trifling might be fraught with serious risk : objects ap­ parently the most innocent might be fatal. In many cases there were supposed to 1 Fuller. �RELIGION CHAP. XI 97 be deities of Crime, of Misfortunes, of we were to show them a near, visible, Disease. These wicked Spirits naturally inevitable, but all-beneficent Deity, whose encouraged evil rather than good. An presence makes the earth itself a heaven, energetic friend of mine was sent to a I think there would be fewer deaf children district in India where smallpox was sitting in the market-place.” specially prevalent, and where one of the But it must not be supposed that those principal Temples was dedicated to the who doubt whether the ultimate truths of Goddess of that disease. He had the the Universe can be expressed in human people vaccinated, in spite of some opposi­ , words, or whether, even if they could, tion, and the disease disappeared, much we should be able to comprehend them, to the astonishment of the natives. But undervalue the importance of religious the priests of the Deity of Smallpox were ' study. Quite the contrary. Their doubts not disconcerted ; only they deposed the , arise not from pride, but from humility : Image of their discomfited Goddess, and ! not because they do not appreciate divine petitioned my friend for some emblem of . truth, but on the contrary because they himself which they might install in her doubt whether we can appreciate it stead. ' sufficiently, and are sceptical whether the We who are fortunate enough to live (infinite can be reduced to the finite. in this comparatively enlightened century We may be sure that whatever may be hardly realise how our ancestors suffered ■ right about religion, to quarrel over it from their belief in the existence of must be wrong. “ Let others wrangle,” mysterious and malevolent beings; how said St. Augustine, “I will wonder.” their life was embittered and overshadowed Those who suspend their judgment are by these awful apprehensions. not on that account sceptics, and it is As men, however, have risen in civilisa­ often those who think they know most, tion, their religion has risen with them; who are especially troubled by doubts they have by degrees acquired higher and anxiety. and purer conceptions of divine power. It was Wordsworth who wrote We are only just beginning to realise “ Great God, I had rather that a loving and merciful Father would A Pagan suckled in some ereed outworn ;he not resent honest error, not even perhaps So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, the attribution to him of such odious Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn.” injustice. Yet what can be clearer than In religion, as with children at night, it Christ’s teaching on this point. He is darkness and ignorance which create impressed over and over again on his disciples, that, as St. Paul expresses it, dread ; light and love cast out fear. In looking forward to the future we “ The letter killeth, but the spirit giveth may fairly hope with Ruskin that “the life.”1 “If,” says Ruskin, “for every rebuke charities of more and more widely ex­ that we utter of men’s vices, we put forth tended peace are preparing the way for a claim upon their hearts; if, for every a Christian Church which shall depend assertion of God’s demands from them, neither on ignorance for its continuance, we should substitute a display of His nor on controversy for its progress, but kindness to them; if side by side, with shall reign at once in light and love.” every warning of death, we could exhibit proofs and promises of immortality ; if, in fine, instead of assuming the being of an awful Deity, which men, though they cannot and dare not deny, are always unwilling, sometimes unable, to conceive : 1 2 Cor. in. 6. H �THE PLEASURES OF LIFE PART II because they fancied that pain was ordained under certain circumstances. CHAPTER XII We are told that in early Saxon days Edwin, King of Northumbria, called his THE HOPE OF PROGRESS nobles and his priests around him, to dis­ cuss whether a certain missionary should “ To what then may we not look forward, when a spirit of scientific inquiry shall have spread be heard or not. The result was doubtful. through those vast regions in which the progress But at last there rose an old chief, and said of civilisation, its sure precursor, is actually —“You know, 0 King, how, on a winter commenced and in active progress ? And what evening, when you are sitting at supper may we not expect from the exertions of powerful minds called into action under circumstances in your hall, with your company around totally different from any which have yet existed you, when the night is dark and dreary, in the world, and over an extent of territory far when the rain and the snow rage outside, surpassing that which has hitherto produced the when the hall inside is lighted and warm whole harvest of human intellect ?” with a blazing fire, sometimes it happens Herschel, that a sparrow flies into the bright hall There are two lines, if not more, in out of the dark night, flies through the which we may look forward with hope to hall and then out at the other end progress in the future. In the first place, into the dark night again. We see him increased knowledge of nature, of the for a few moments, but we know not properties of matter, and of the pheno­ whence he came nor whither he goes in mena which surround us, may afford to the blackness of the storm outside. So is our children advantages far greater even the life of man. It appears for a short than those which we ourselves enjoy. space in the warmth and brightness of Secondly, the extension and improvement this life, but what came before this life, of education, the increasing influence of or what is to follow this life, we know not. Science and Art, of Poetry and Music, If, therefore, these new teachers can en­ of Literature and Religion,—of all the lighten us as to the darkness that went powers which are tending to good, will, we before, and the darkness that is to come may reasonably hope, raise man and make after, let us hear what they have to teach him more master of himself, more able us.” It is often said, however, that great to appreciate and enjoy his advantages, and to realise the truth of the Italian and unexpected as recent discoveries proverb, that wherever light is, there is have been, there are certain ultimate problems which must ever remain un­ joy. One consideration which has greatly solved. For my part, I would prefer to tended to retard progress has been the abstain from laying down any such limita­ floating idea that there was some sort of tions. When Park asked the Arabs what ingratitude, and even impiety, in attempt­ became of the sun at night, and whether ing to improve on what Divine Providence the sun was always the same, or new each had arranged for us. Thus Prometheus day, they replied that such a question was was said to have incurred the wrath of foolish, being entirely beyond the reach Jove for bestowing on mortals the use of of human investigation. M. Comte, in his Cours de Philosophic fire ; and other discoveries only escaped similar punishment when the ingenuity of Positive, as recently as 1842, laid it down priests attributed them to the special as an axiom regarding the heavenly bodies, favour of some particular deity. This that’“we may hope to determine their feeling has not even yet quite died out. forms, distances, magnitude, and move­ Even I can remember tlie time when ments, but we shall never by any means be many excellent persons had a scruple or able to study their chemical composition prejudice against the use of chloroform, or mineralogical structure.” Yet within a �CHAP. XII THE HOPE OF PROGRESS few years this supposed impossibility has been actually accomplished, showing how unsafe it is to limit the possibilities of science.1 It is, indeed, as true now as in the time of Newton, that the great ocean of truth lies undiscovered before us. I often wish that some President of the Royal Society, or of the British Association, would take for the theme of his annual address “ The things we do not know.” Who can say on the verge of what discoveries we are perhaps even now standing ! It is extra­ ordinary how slight a barrier may stand for years between Man and some import­ ant improvement. Take the case of the electric light, for instance. It had been known for years that if a carbon rod be placed in an exhausted glass receiver, and a current of electricity be passed through it, the carbon glowed with an intense light, but on the other hand it became so hot that the glass burst. The light, there­ fore, was useless, because the lamp burst as soon as it was lit. Edison hit on the idea that if you made the carbon filament fine enough, you would get rid of the heat and yet have abundance of light. His right to a patent has been contested on this very ground. It has been said that the mere introduction of so small a difference as the replacement of a thin rod by a fine filament was so slight a change thaf it could not be patented. The improvements by LaneFox, Swan, and others, though so import­ ant as a whole, have been made step by step. Or take again the discovery of anaes­ thetics. At the beginning of the century Sir Humphry Davy discovered laughing gas, as it was then called. He found that it produced complete insensibility to pain and yet did not injure health. A tooth was actually taken out under its influence, and of course without suffering. These facts were known to our chemists, they were explained to the students in our jreat hospitals, and yet for half a century 1 Lubbock. Fifty Years of Science. 99 the obvious application occurred to no one. Operations continued to be per­ formed as before, patients suffered the same horrible tortures, and yet the bene­ ficent element was in our hands, its divine properties were known, but it never oc­ curred to any one to make use of it. I will only give one more illustration. Printing is generally said to have been discovered in the fifteenth century ; and so it was for all practical purposes. But in fact printing was known long before. The Romans used stamps; on the monu­ ments of the Assyrian kings the name of the reigning monarch may be found duly printed. What then is the difference ? One little, but all-important step. The real inventor of printing was the man into whose mind flashed the fruitful idea of having separate stamps for each letter, instead of for separate words. How slight seems the difference, and yet for 3000 years the thought occurred to no one. Who can tell what other discoveries, as simple and yet as farreaching, lie at this moment under our very eyes ! Archimedes said that if he had room to stand on, he would move the earth. One truth leads to another; each dis­ covery renders possible another, and, what is more, a higher. We are but beginning to realise the marvellous range and complexity of Na­ ture. I have elsewhere called attention to this with special reference to the prob­ lematical organs of sense possessed by many animals.1 There is every reason .to hope that future studies will throw much light on these interesting structures. We may, no doubt, expect much from the improve­ ment in our microscopes, the use of new reagents, and of mechanical appliances ; but the ultimate atoms of which matter is composed are so infinitesimally minute, that it is as yet difficult to foresee any manner in which we may hope for a final solution of these problems. 1 The Senses of A nimals. �ICO THE PLEASURES OF LIFE Loschmidt, who has since been con­ firmed by Stoney and Sir W. Thomson, calculates that each of the ultimate atoms of matter is at most •y0';b 00,000 °f an inch in diameter. Under these circum­ stances we cannot, it would seem, hope at present for any great increase of our knowledge of atoms by improvements in the microscope. With our present in­ struments we can perceive lines ruled on glass which are 90,000' °f an inch apart ; but owing to the properties of light itself, it would appear that we cannot hope to be able to perceive objects which are much less than y 0 q*0 0 0 °f an inch in diameter. Our microscopes may, no doubt, be improved, but the limitation lies not merely in the imperfection of our optical appliances, but in the nature of light itself. Now it has been calculated that a particle of albumen son) 00 an inch in diameter contains no less than 125,000,000 of molecules. In a simpler compound the number would be much greater ; in water, for instance, no less than 8,000,000,000. Even then, if wre could construct microscopes far more powerful than any which we now possess, they could not enable us to obtain by direct vision any idea of the ultimate organisation of matter. The smallest sphere of organic matter which could be clearly defined with our most powerful microscopes may be, and in all proba­ bility is, very complex ; it is built up of many millions of molecules, and it follows that there may be an almost infinite number of structural characters in organic tissues which we can at present foresee no mode of examining.1 Again, it has been shown that animals hear sounds which are beyond the range of our hearing, and I have proved that they can perceive the ultra-violet rays, which are invisible to our eyes.2 Now, as every ray of homogeneous 1 Lubbock. Fifty Years of Science. 2 Ants, Bees, and Wasps. PART II light which we can perceive at all, appears to us as a distinct color, it becomes probable that these ultra-violet rays must make themselves apparent to animals as a distinct and separate color (of which we can form no idea), but as different from the rest as red is from yellow, or green from violet. The question also arises whether white light to these creatures would differ from our white light in con­ taining this additional color. These considerations cannot but raise the reflection how different the world may—I was going to say must—appear to other animals from what it does to us. Sound is the sensation produced on us when the vibrations of the air strike on the drum of our ear. When they are few, the sound is deep; as they increase in number, it becomes shriller and shriller ; but before they reach 40,000 in a second, they cease to be audible. Light is the effect produced on us when waves of light strike on the eye. When 400 millions of millions of vibrations of ether strike the retina in a second, they give the sensation of red, and as the number increases the color passes into orange, then yellow, green, blue, and violet. But between 40,000 vibrations in a second and 400 millions of millions we have no organ of sense capable of receiving an impression. Yet between these limits any number of sensations may exist. We have five senses, and sometimes fancy that no others are possible. But it is obvious that we cannot measure the in­ finite by our own narrow limitations. Moreover, looking at the question from the other side, we find in animals complex organs of sense, richly supplied with nerves, but the function of which we are as yet powerless to explain. There may be fifty other senses as different from ours as sound is from sight; and even within the boundaries of our own senses there may be endless sounds which we cannot hear, and colors, as different as red from green, of which we have no conception. These and a thousand other questions remain for solution. The familiar world �CHAP. XII THE HOPE OF PROGRESS which surrounds us may be a totally different place to other animals. To them it may be full of music which we cannot hear, of color which we cannot see, of sensations which we cannot conceive. To place stuffed birds and beasts in glass cases, to arrange insects in cabinets, and dried plants in drawers, is merely the drudgery and preliminary of study ; to watch their habits, to understand their relations to one another, to study their instincts and intelligence, to ascertain their adaptations and their relations to the forces of Nature, to realise what the world appears to them ; these constitute, as it seems to me at least, the true interest of natural history, and may even give us the clue to senses and perceptions of which at present we have no conception.1 From this point of view the possi­ bilities of progress seem to me to be almost unlimited. So far again as the actual condition of man is concerned, the fact that there has been some advance cannot, I think, be questioned. In the Middle Ages, for instance, culture and refinement scarcely existed beyond the limits of courts, and by no means always there. The life in English, French, and German castles was rough and almost barbarous. Mr. Galton has expressed the opinion, which I am not prepared to question, that the population of Athens, taken as a whole, was as superior to us as we are to Australian savages. But even if that be so, our civilisation, such as it is, is more diffused, so that unquestionably the general Euro­ pean level is much higher. Much, no doubt, is owing to the greater facility of access to the literature of our country, to that literature, in the words of Macaulay, “ the brightest, the purest, the most durable of all the glories of our country ; to that Literature, so rich in precious truth and precious fiction; to that Literature which boasts of the prince of all poets, and of the prince of all 1 Lubbock. The, Senses of Animals. IOI philosophers; to that Literature which has exercised an influence wider than that of our commerce, and mightier than that of our arms.” Few of us, however, make the most of our minds. The body ceases to grow in a few years ; but the mind, if we will let it, may grow almost as long as life lasts. The onward progress of the future will not, we may be sure, be confined to mere material discoveries. We feel that we are on the road to higher mental powers ; that problems which now seem to us beyond the range of human thought will receive their solution, and open the way to still further advance. Progress, more­ over, wre may hope, will be not merely material, not merely mental, but moral also. It is natural that we should feel a pride in the beauty of England, in the size of our cities, the magnitude of our commerce, the wealth of our country, the vastness of our Empire. But the true glory of a nation does not consist in the extent of its dominion, in the fertility of the soil, or the beauty of Nature, but rather in the moral and intellectual pre­ eminence of the people. And yet how few of us, rich or poor, have made ourselves all we might be. If he does his best, as Shakespeare says, “ What a piece of work is man ! How noble in reason ! How infinite in faculty ! in form and movement, how express and admirable ! ” Few indeed, as yet, can be said to reach this high ideal. The Hindoos have a theory that after death animals live again in a different form ; those that have done well in a higher, those that have done ill in a lower grade. To realise this is, they find, a powerful incentive to a virtuous life. But whether it be true of a future life or not, it is certainly true of our present existence. If we do our best for a day, the next morning we shall rise to a higher life ; while if we give way to our passions and temptations, we take with equal certainty a step downwards towards a lower nature. �y -y. #;■ ' u? UV ' “■ ■ ZAL? PLEASURES OF LIFE 102 It is an. interesting illustration, of the Unity of Man, and an encouragement to those of us who have no claims to genius, that, though of course there have been exceptions, still on the whole, periods of progress have generally been those when a nation has worked and felt together ; the advance has been due not entirely to the efforts of a few great men, but of their countrymen generally; not to a single genius, but to a national effort. Think, indeed, what might be. “All ! when shall all men’s good Be each man’s rule, and universal Peace Lie like a shaft of light across the land, And like a lane of beams athwart the sea, Thro’ all the circle of the golden year ? ”1 Our life is surrounded with mystery, our very world is a speck in boundless space ; and not only the period of our own individual life, but that of the whole human race is, as it were, but a moment in the eternity of time. We cannot imagine any origin, nor foresee the con­ clusion. But though we may not as yet perceive any line of research which can give us a clue to the solution, in another sense we may hold that every addition to our knowledge is one small step towards the great revelation. Progress may be more slow, or more rapid. It may come to others and not to us. It will not come to us if we do not strive to deserve it. But come it surely will. “ Yet one thing is there that ye shall not slay, Even thought, that fire nor iron can affright?’2 The future of man is full of hope, and I who can foresee the limits of his destiny ?' 1 Tennyson. 2 Swinburne. PART II CHAPTER XIII THE DESTINY OF MAN “For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.”— Romans viii. 18. But though we have thus a sure and certain hope of progress for the race, still, as far as man is individually concerned, with advancing years we gradually care less and less for many things which gave us the keenest pleasure in youth. On the other hand, if our time has been well used, if we have warmed both hands wisely before the fire of life, we may gain even more than we lose. As our strength becomes less, we feel also the less necessity for exertion. Hope is gradually replaced by memory : and whether this adds to our happiness or not depends on what our life has been. There are of course some lives which diminish in value as old age advances ; in which one pleasure fades after another, and even those which remain gradually lose their zest; but there are others which gain in richness and in peace all, and more than, that of which time robs them. The pleasures of youth may excel in keenness and in zest, but they have at the best a tinge of anxiety and unrest ; they cannot have the fulness and depth which may accompany the consolations of age, and are amongst the richest rewards of an unselfish life. For as with the close of the day, so with that of life ; there may be clouds, and yet if the horizon is clear, the evening may be beautiful. Old age has a rich store of memories. Life is full of “Joys too exquisite to last, And yet more exquisite when past.” 1 Swedenborg imagines that in heaven the angels are advancing continually to 1 Montgomery. �CHAP. XIII THE DESTINY OF MAN 103 Is it not extraordinary that many men will deliberately take a road which they , know is, to say the least, not that of happiness ? That they prefer to make others miserable, rather than themselves happy ? Plato, in the Phsedrus, explains this by describing Man as a Composite Being, “ Age cannot wither nor custom stale Their infinite variety.” having three natures, and compares him “ When I consider old age,” says Cicero, to a pair of winged horses and a charioteer. “I find four causes why it is thought “ Of the two horses one is noble and of miserable : one, that it calls us away from noble origin, the other ignoble and of the transaction of, affairs ; the second, ignoble origin ; and the driving, as might that it renders the body more feeble ; the be expected, is no easy matter.” The third, that it deprives us of almost all noble steed endeavours to raise the passions j the fourth, that it is not very chariot, but the ignoble one struggles to far from death. Of these causes let us drag it down. As time goes on, if the see, if you please, how great and how charioteer be wise and firm, the noble part of our nature will raise us more reasonable each of them is.” To be released from the absorbing and more. “Man,” says Shelley, “is an instru­ affairs of life, to feel that one has earned a claim to leisure and repose, is surely in ment over which a series of external and internal impressions are driven, like the itself no evil. To the second complaint against old alternations of an ever-changing wind age, I have already referred in speaking over an JEolian lyre, which move it by their motion to ever-changing melody.” of Health. The third is that it has no passions. Lastly, Cicero mentions the approach “ 0 noble privilege of age I if indeed it of death as the fourth drawback of old takes from us that which is in youth our age. To many minds the shadow of the greatest defect.” But our higher aspira­ end is ever present, like the coffin in the tions are not necessarily weakened ; or Egyptian feast, and overclouds all the rather, they may become all the brighter, sunshine of life. being purified from the grosser elements But ought we to regard death as an of our lower nature. evil ? Shelley’s beautiful lines, “Single,” says Manu, “is each man born into the world; single he dies j “ Life, like a Dome of many-coloured glass, Stains the white radiance of Eternity ; single he receives the reward of his good Until death tramples it to fragments,” deeds ; and single the punishment of his sins. When he dies his body lies like a fallen tree upon the earth, but his virtue contain, as it seems to me at least, a accompanies his soul. Wherefore let Man double error. Life need not stain the harvest and garner Virtue, that so he white radiance of eternity ; nor does may have an inseparable companion in death necessarily trample it to fragments. Man has, says Coleridge, that gloom which all must pass through, and which it is so hard to traverse.” “Three treasures,—love and light Then, indeed, it might be said that And calm thoughts, regular as infants’ breath ; “ Man is the sun of the world ; more And three firm friends, more sure than day and than the real sun. The fire of his night, wonderful heart is the only light and Himself, his Maker, and the Angel Death.’ heat worth gauge or measure.” 1 Death is “the end of all, the remedy 1 Emerson. the spring-time of their youth, so that those who have lived longest are really the youngest; and have we not all had friends who seem to fulfil this idea ? who are in reality—that is in mind—as fresh as a child : of whom it may be said with more truth than of Cleopatra that �THE PLEASURES OF LIFE 104 of many, the wish of divers men, deserv­ ing better of no men than of those to whom she came before she was called.” 1 After a stormy life, with death comes peace. ‘ ‘ Duncan is in his grave ; After life’s fitful fever he sleeps well; Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, Can touch him further.”'2 If death be final, then no one will ever know that he is dead. It is often, however, assumed that the journey to ‘ ‘ The undiscovered country from whose bourne No traveller returns ” must be one of pain and suffering. But this is not so. Death is often peaceful and almost painless. Bede during his last illness was trans­ lating St. John’s Gospel into AngloSaxon, and the morning of his death his secretary, observing his weakness, said, “ There remains now only one chapter, and it seems difficult to you to speak.” “It is easy,” said Bede ; “take your pen and write as fast as you can.” At the close of the chapter the scribe said, “ It is finished,” to which he replied, “ Thou hast said the truth, consummatum est.” He asked to be placed opposite to the place where he usually prayed, said “Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost,” and as he pronounced the last word he expired. Goethe died without any apparent suffering, having just prepared himself to write, and expressed his delight at the return of spring. We are told of Mozart’s death that “ the unfinished requiem lay upon the bed, and his last efforts were to imitate some peculiar instrumental effects, as he breathed out his life in the arms of his Wife and their friend Sussmaier.” Plato died in the act of writing; Lucan while reciting part of his book on the war of Pharsalus ; Blake died sing­ 1 Seneca. Shakespeare. PART II ing ; Wagner in sleep with his head on his wife’s shoulder. Many have passed away in their sleep. Various high medical authorities have expressed their surprise that the dying seldom feel either dismay or regret. And even those who perish by violence, as for instance in battle, feel, it is probable, but little suffering. But what of the future 1 There may be said to be now two principal views. Some believe in the immortality of the soul, but not of the individual soul: that our life is continued in that of our children would seem indeed to be the natural deduction from the simile of St. Paul, as that of the grain of wheat is carried on in the plant of the following year. So long as happiness exists, it is selfish to dwell too much on our own share in it. Admit that the soul is immortal, but that in the future state of existence there is a break in the continuity of memory, that one does not remember the present life ; will it in that case matter to us more what happens to the soul inhabiting our body, than what happens to any other soul ? And from this point of view is not the importance of identity involved in that of continuous memory ? But however this may be, according to the general view, the soul, though de­ tached from the body, will retain its conscious identity, and will awake from death, as it does from sleep ; so that if we cannot affirm that “ Millions of spiritual creatures walk the Earth, Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep,” 1 at any rate they exist somewhere else in space, and we are indeed looking at them when we gaze at the stars, though to our eyes they are as yet invisible. In neither case, however, can death be regarded as an evil. To wish that health and strength were unaffected by time might be a different matter. 1 Milton. �THE DESTINY OF MAN CHAP. XIII “But if we are not destined to be immortal, yet it is a desirable thing for a man to expire at his fit time. For, as nature prescribes a boundary to all other things, so does she also to life. Now old age is the consummation of life, just as of a play : from the fatigue of which we ought to escape, especially when satiety is superadded.” 1 From this point of view, then, we need “ Weep not for death, ’Tis but a fever stilled, A pain suppressed,—a fear at rest, A solemn hope fulfilled. The moonshine on the slumbering deep Is scarcely calmer. Wherefore weep ? 105 “ We are such stuff As dreams are made of, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.” 1 According to the more general view death frees the soul from the encumbrance of the body, and summons us to the seat of judgment. In fact, “ There is no Death ! What seems so is transi­ tion ; This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of that life elysian, Whose portal we call Death.” 2 We have bodies, we are spirits. “ I am a soul,” said Epictetus, “ dragging about a corpse.” The body is the mere perish­ able form of the immortal essence. Plato “ Weep not for death ! ! concluded that if the ways of God are to The fount of tears is sealed, be justified, there must be a future life. Who knows how bright the inward light To those closed eyes revealed ? To the aged in either case death is a Who knows what holy love may fill release. The Bible dwells most forcibly The heart that seems so cold and still.” on the blessing of peace. “ My peace I Many a weary soul will have recurred give unto you : not as the ■world giveth, give I unto you.” Heaven is described with comfort to the thought that I as a place where the wicked cease from “ A few more years shall roll, | troubling, and the weary are at rest. A few more seasons come, But I suppose every one must have And we shall be with those that rest asked himself in what can the pleasures Asleep within the tomb. of heaven consist. “ A few more struggles here. A few more partings o’er, A few more toils, a few more tears, And we shall weep no more.” “ For all we know Of what the blessed do above Is that they sing, and that they love.” 3 By no one has this, however, been It would indeed accord with few men’s more grandly expressed than by Shelley. ideal that there should be any “struggle for existence ” in heaven. We should then “ Peace, peace ! he is not dead, he doth not be little better off than we are now. This sleep 1 world is very beautiful, if we would only He hath awakened from the dream of life. enjoy it in peace. And yet mere passive ’Tis we who, lost in stormy visions, keep With phantoms an unprofitable strife, existence—mere vegetation—would in He has outsoared the shadows of our night. itself offer few attractions. It would Envy and calumny, and hate and pain, indeed be almost intolerable. And that unrest which men miscall delight, Again, the anxiety of change seems Can touch him not and torture not again. From the contagion of the world’s slow stain inconsistent with .perfect happiness ; and He is secure, and now can never mourn I yet a wearisome, interminable monotony, A heart grown cold, a head grown gray, in 1 the same thing over and over again for vain—” ever and ever without relief or variety, Most men, however, decline to believe I suggests dulness rather than delight. that 1 Cicero. 1 Shakespeare. 2 Longfellow. 3 Waller. �106 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE PART II “For still the doubt came back,—Can God misconceiving us, or being harassed by us : provide —of glorious work to do, and adequate For the large heart of man what shall not faculties to do it—-a world of solved pall, problems, as well as of realised ideals.” Nor through eternal ages’ endless tide On tired spirits fall ? | Cicero surely did not exaggerate when he said, “ 0 glorious day ! when I shall depart to that divine company and assem­ blage of spirits, and quit this troubled and polluted scene. For I shall go not only to those great men of whom I have spoken “ What shall the eyes that wait for him survey When his own presence gloriously appears before, but also to my dear Cato, than whom never was better man born, nor In worlds that were not founded for a day, But for eternal years ? ” 1 more distinguished for pious affection; whose body was burned by me, whereas, Here Science seems to suggest a on the contrary, it was fitting that mine possible answer : the solution of problems should be burned by him. But his soul which have puzzled us here; the acqui­ not deserting me, but oft looking back, no sition of new ideas ; the unrolling the doubt departed to these regions whither it history of the past; the world of animals saw that I myself was destined to come. and plants; the secrets of space; the Which, though a distress to me, I seemed wonders of the stars and of the regions patiently to endure : not that I bore it beyond the stars. To become acquainted with indifference, but I comforted myself with all the beautiful and interesting spots with the recollection that the separation of our own world would indeed be some­ and distance between us would not con­ thing to look forward to—and our world tinue long. For these reasons, O Scipio is but one of many millions. I some­ (since you said that you with Laelius were times ■wonder as I look away to the stars accustomed to wonder at this), old age is at night whether it will ever be my tolerable to me, and not only not irksome, privilege as a disembodied spirit to visit but even delightful. And if I am wrong and explore them. When we had made in this, that I believe the souls of men to the great tour fresh interests would have be immortal, I willingly delude myself: arisen, and we might well begin again. nor do I desire that this mistake, in Here then is an infinity of interest which I take pleasure, should be wrested without anxiety. So that at last the only from me as long as I live ; but if I, when doubt may be dead, shall have no consciousness, as some narrow-minded philosophers imagine, I do “ Lest an eternity should not suffice To take the measure and the breadth and not fear lest dead philosophers should height ridicule this my delusion.” Of what there is reserved in Paradise Nor can I omit the striking passage Its ever-new delight.”2 in the Apology, when, defending himself I feel that to me, said Greg, “ God has before the people of Athens, Socrates says, promised not the heaven of the ascetic “ Let us reflect in another way, and we temper, or the dogmatic theologian, or of shall see that there is great reason to hope the subtle mystic, or of the stern martyr that death is a good ; for one of two ready alike to inflict and bear ; but a things—either death is a state of nothing­ heaven of purified and permanent affec­ ness and utter unconsciousness, or, as men tions—of a book of knowledge with eternal say, there is a change and migration of leaves, and unbounded capacities to read the soul from this world to another. it—of those we love ever round us, never Now if you suppose that there is no con­ sciousness, but a sleep like the sleep of him who is undisturbed even by dreams, 1 Trench. 2 Ibid. “ These make him say,—If God has so arrayed A fading world that quickly passes by, Such rich provision of delight has made For every human eye, �CHAP. XIII THE DESTINY OF MAN 107 death will be an unspeakable gain. For' to death for asking questions1; assuredly if a person were to select the night in not. For besides being happier in that which his sleep was undisturbed by world than in this, they will be immortal, dreams, and were to compare with this if what is said be true. the other days and nights of his life, and ’ “ Wherefore, O judges, be of good cheer then were to tell us how many days and about death, and know of a certainty nights he had passed in the course of his that no evil can happen to a good man, life better and more pleasantly than this either in life or after death. He and his one, I think that no man, I will not say a are not neglected by the gods ; nor has private man, but not even the Great my own approaching end happened by King, will find many such days or nights, mere chance. But I see clearly that to when compared with the others. Now, die and be released was better for me; if death is like this, I say that to die is and therefore the oracle gave no sign. gain ; for eternity is then only a single For which reason, also, I am not angry night. But if death is the journey to with my condemners, or with my accusers ; another place, and there, as men say, they have done me no harm, although all the dead are, what good, 0 my they did not mean to do me any good ; friends and judges, can be greater than and for this I may gently blame them. The hour of departure has arrived, and this ? “ If, indeed, when the pilgrim arrives in we go our ways—I to die and you to the world below, he is delivered from the live. Which is better God only knows.’’ professors of justice in this world, and , In the Wisdom of Solomon we are finds the true judges, who are said to promised that— give judgment there,—Minos, and Rhada“ The souls of the righteous are in the manthus, and yEacus, and Triptolemus, hand of God, and there shall no torment and other sons of God who were righteous touch them. in their own life,—that pilgrimage will “ In the sight of the unwise they indeed be worth making. What would seemed to die ; and their departure is not a man give if he might converse with taken for misery. Orpheus, and Musseus, and Hesiod, and “ And their going from us to be utter Homer ? Nay, if this be true, let me die destruction ; but they are in peace. again and again. I myself, too, shall have “ For though they be punished in the a wonderful interest in there meeting and sight of men, yet is their hope full of conversing with Palamedes, and Ajax the immortality. son of Telamon, and other heroes of old, “ And having been a little chastised, who have suffered death through an unjust they shall be greatly rewarded : for God judgment ; and there will be no small proved them, and found them worthy for pleasure, as I think, in comparing my own himself.” sufferings with theirs. Above all, I shall And assuredly, if in the hour of death then be able to continue my search into the conscience is at peace, the mind need true and false knowledge ; as in this I not be troubled. The future is full of world, so also in that ; and I shall find doubt, indeed, but fuller still of hope. out who is wise, and who pretends to be If we are entering upon a rest after the wise, and is not. What would not a man struggles of life, give, O judges, to be able to examine the , leader of the great Trojan expedition; | “ Where the wicked cease from troubling, And the weary are at rest,” or Odysseus or Sisyphus, or numberless ; others, men and women too 1 What in­ that to many a weary soul will be a finite delight would there be in conversing with them and asking them questions. 1 Referring to the cause of his own condemna­ In another world they do not put a man tion. �108 THE PLEASURES OF LIFE PART II welcome bourne, and even then we may read and enjoyed, but those also whom say, we have loved and lost; when we shall “ 0 Death ! where is thy sting ? leave behind us the bonds of the flesh and 0 Grave ! where is thy victory ? ” the limitations of our earthly existence ; On the other hand, if, trusting humbly when we shall join the Angels, the Arch­ but confidently in the goodness of an angels, and all the company of Heaven,— Almighty and loving Father, we are then, indeed, we may cherish a sure and entering on a new sphere of existence, certain hope that the interests and where we may look forward to meet not pleasures of this world are as nothing, only those Great Men of whom we have compared to those of the life that awaits heard so much, those whose works we have us in our Eternal Home. 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Sixth Edition. Crown 8vo. Is. (Swan Sonnenschein � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Victorian Blogging Description An account of the resource A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library &amp; Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span> Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Conway Hall Library & Archives Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2018 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Conway Hall Ethical Society Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Pamphlet Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The pleasures of life Description An account of the resource Place of publication: London Collation: 108, [4] p. ; 22 cm. Notes: Publisher's list and advertisements on unnumbered pages at the begining and end. Paper covers. Pictorial cover - portrait of author. Includes bibliographical references. Printed in double columns. Advertisements on preliminary pages and unnumbered pages at the end. Contents: Part 1: The duty of happiness -- The happiness of duty -- A song of books -- The choice of books -- The blessing of friends -- The value of time -- The pleasures of travel -- The pleasures of home -- Science -- Education. Part 2: Ambition -- Wealth -- Health -- Love -- Art -- Poetry -- Music -- The beauties of nature -- The troubles of life -- Labour and rest -- Religion -- The hope of progress -- The destiny of man. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Lubbock, John Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1899 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Macmillan and Co. 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I BY I GEORGE ASTOR SINGER, M.A. plh* O?- T- jl'U A'.‘4< t. 1 •'f I. PRESS CENSORSHIP AND COMPROMISE. ?7'• • /I —■> ■'A* '■ s ■ T 3 ff.', 'fe LONDON THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, 1 > .■ t_ LIMITED WATFORD, LONDON 1899 I �• * The University Press, Limited. NEW WORKS. CHAPTERS ON HUMAN LOVE. GEOFFREY MORTIMER. 6s. Net. NOW READY. HAROLD HARDY. (A NOVEL.) F. C. ■r HUDDLE. SEAWEED: A CORNISH IDYLL. BY ELEIS. EDITH A novel dealing with the ever green problem of sex. Studies in the Psychology of Sex. BY HAVELOCK ELLIS. Vol. I.—SEXUAL INVERSION. This work will in future be published and sold by a Paris firm. Orders sent to the University Press, Limited, will be forwarded to Paris and will be executed from there. y �NATIONAL SECULAR SOCIETY JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS BY GEORGE ASTOR SINGER, M.A. I PRESS CENSORSHIP AND COMPROMISE. LONDON THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, WATFORD, LONDON 1899 LIMITED ��PREFACE. Authors and artists will remember the sad fate that befell old honest Vizetelly, the publisher of Zola’s great works, who was con­ victed and sent to prison for “ publishing an indecent libel with the intent of corrupting the morals of Her Majesty’s subjects.” His crime consisted in editing translations of the eminent writer’s novels which the civilized world, long before Vizetelly’s imprisonment, had recognised as masterpieces of art. Vizetelly has died from the effects of his imprisonment, and it must have been some satisfaction to his numerous friends to witness the reaction a few years later when his persecutors bowed before the great novelist, when the most prominent members of society, Poli­ ticians, Literary men, and even Bishops vied with each other in entertaining the illustrious author of the Rougon-Macquart series. An English judge had sent poor old Vizetelly to prison for publish­ ing the works which to-day every educated Englishman considers as the best productions of French literary genius. Thus in the last two decades an important change in English prudery and conventional hypocrisy has undoubtedly taken place but the judicial system of this country unfortunately allows the prudes on the prowl, who are to be found everywhere, to repeat the attack and to indulge in idiosyncrasies which in the year 1898 culminated in the prosecution of a bookseller for selling a purely scientific work, written by an author of world-wide renown and published by a respectable firm. The undoubted sincerity and honesty of English judges combined with the apparent or real impartiality of the jury, to John Bull seems a guarantee of fair play in civil actions as well as in criminal cases. But the public is not acquainted with the intricacies of judicial procedure, it knows nothing of the preliminary work behind the scenes and is dazzled by the display exhibited at the so-called trial which in many cases is nothing but a theatrical effect, fire­ �ii Preface works which frequently conceal a great wrong and leave the strongest as the victor in an unfair combat. As the English judge, even if prejudiced, possesses a high sense of duty, great experience as a lawyer and a certain amount of shrewdness, and as, on the other hand, the jury as a rule is known to follow the direction of the judge, the work to be done by the representatives of the parties to an action or prosecution really consists in the attempt to deceive the judge, and he who manages this deception best will be the victor whether the right be on his side or not. Therefore a very great part of legal work is of a doubtful nature, akin to trickery, which is facilitated by the peculiar semi-official capacity of the solicitor and the absolutely irresponsible position of counsel. It is natural that amongst the three or four thousand solicitors in the Metropolis who are the moving spirits in all judicial actions, many are not of an irreproachable character. The numerous con­ victions of dishonest lawyers, and the prosecution of many more by the Incorporated Law Society prove that in England a much greater proportion of Solicitors indulge in doubtful practices, than in any other country with the exception perhaps of the United States. The peculiar position of the Solicitor as a mediator between client and counsel partly accounts for this abnormal condition and an anti­ quated system greatly facilitates underground and dishonest practices. It is affirmed that in England in one single day more perjury is committed than in the whole of Europe in a year, but this, if true, may be to a great extent due to the pernicious system of admitting plaintiff and defendant to swear affidavits in their own cause at every stage of a pending action. This practice is absolutely un­ known in continental countries. Perjury certainly has something to do with the perversion of justice, but a greater danger arises from the peculiar relation between Client, Solicitor, Counsel, and Judge. In the attempt of a Solicitor to fleece his client and to obtain the largest possible amount, for real or imaginary services, the client’s interest is often ignored to an incredible extent, especially in cases where the greed of the lawyer prevents him from paying over �Preface iii counsel’s fees (paid to him by his client) which inevitably causes the collapse of a case or the conviction in a criminal prosecution. The principal object of Judicial Scandals and Errors will be an impartial inquiry into dishonest manipulations in civil and criminal actions which have led to a gross perversion of justice. An examination in the judicial system, wherever it seems to be at fault, will follow. The amount of wrong done in criminal courts, the conviction of the innocent, if poor, and the escape of the guilty, if wealthy, is alarmingly large, and every endeavour to lessen the evil must be welcome. The attack made by unknown persons hiding behind the Com­ missioner of Police on a scientific work of undoubted merit and the suppression of this publication by a compromise with a London bookseller, although apparently unimportant in itself, is typical in its detail, and this circumstance justifies my submitting this case to the judgment of a wider circle. GEORGE ASTOR SINGER, M A. Paris, December, 1898. From the Cologne Gazette (translated) : — “PROSECUTION OF SCIENTIFIC WORKS IN GREAT BRITAIN. “ Hypocrites and prudes in old England are on the war-path again. Not against music halls and theatres but against scientific, medical, and anthropo­ logical works is their zeal directed this time, and very successfully too. “ The laughter of the civilised world does not dishearten these fanatics, if they hear it. They suffer from a peculiar kind of mania which in this epidemic form is only to be found in England. But it would be a gross libel on the great English nation to state that the majority of educated Englishmen approves of these antics. Yes the influence and power of the prudes must not be underrated, if we take into consideration that the police is at their disposal to suppress such important scientific works as Dr. Havelock Ellis’s Studies in the Psychology of Sex. �iv Preface “ Havelock Ellis’s name is so well known all over the world as the author of The Criminal and Man and Woman, and as a scientist of eminence and undoubted integrity, that it seems superfluous to discuss the contents of the incriminated book. “ A bookseller in London who, like hundred others, sold this work, one day in the year 1898 was arrested, imprisoned, and intimidated to plead guilty: “ to being a person of a wicked and depraved mind and disposition, and unlawfully and wickedly devising, contriving, and intending, to vitiate and corrupt the morals of the liege subjects of our Lady the Queen, to debauch and poison the minds of divers of the liege subjects of our Lady the Queen, and to create in them disordered and lustful desires, and to bring the said liege subjects into a state of wickedness, lewdness, and debauchery, etc., etc. “ Who is laughing ? Silence ! “ In Culturstaaten (cultured states), as a rule, the nation is proud of the scientific achievements of medical and anthropological authorities, but in England many prefer the Bible as a medical text-book to Lord Lister’s works, and Christian Science the newest hocus-pocus to medical practice in general. “Amongst the many hundreds of poor victims of the art of Christian Science there was lately a well known literary man (Harold Frederic). A prosecution for manslaughter was started but soon abandoned or suppressed, perhaps by the same authority who sanctioned the prosecution of Dr. Havelock Ellis’s works. It is a truly melancholy fact that in England the police, and even an English judge, can be had to assist in the suppression of scientific books, and it is rumoured in the metropolis that the next attack will be directed against Professor Krafft-Ebing’s Psychopathia Sexualis, and against Westermarck’s well known work, The History of Human Marriage. We will next hear that the British Museum library has been searched for the works of Westphal, Moll, Charcot, and Virchow, and that Darwin’s great works will be brought before an Old Bailey jury. What a glorious prospect! “ If the government does not command a stentorious Halt (stop), one day in the near future the tinker, the tailor, the candle-stick maker, presided over by the Recorder of London, will sit in judgment over the Origin of Species and the Descent of Man. “ The spinster who, having been informed by a friend that her canary was of the male sex, henceforth covered his cage with a dark cloth each time she was exhibiting her virginal form before the dressing glass, and the very respectable matron who, provided the Venus of Milo in her artist-husband’s studio with a petticoat, skirt and bodice, should both be consulted by the English Home Secretary when instructions are given to the police for the suppression of scientific works. The rest may be left to the Recorder of London and to an Old Bailey jury as the most competent judges in the realm of Anthropology and Physiology.” �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. Lawyers know or feel instinctively that wherever in criminal cases a compromise has been effected between the prosecution and the defence some coin of the realm has passed. The illegality of the act is passed over silently by all the parties concerned in the transaction. That such compromises are more frequent in England, where nearly all the prosecutions are of a more or less private character, than in France, Germany, Austria, or Italy, where invariably the public prosecutor acts for the crown, and in his official position is inaccessible to bribes and proposals for an amicable settlement, is only the natural and inevitable result of our procedure in criminal cases. Many mysterious transactions, which amount to blackmail and extortion, would come to light if the parties to the deal were not compelled to silence in their own interest. A compromise in cases where the police authorities or the Government appear as prosecutors, absolutely unknown on the con­ tinent, is comparatively rare even in this country, and the legal authorities strongly disapprove of the pernicious system of inducing an accomplice to turn Queen’s Evidence. Quite apart of the in­ dignity and immorality hidden in these transactions they carry the danger that the principal offender to save his own skin gives false evidence and that justice is perverted. Much moye dangerous than the admission of Bill Sykes to tender queen’s evidence is a practice recently adopted by the prosecution in the Bedborough case, which promised to become a test case of the highest importance, but which collapsed in the end in conse­ quence of a compromise effected between defence and prosecution on a perfectly new basis. The accused himself and his solicitor ob­ tained by the transaction a considerable benefit, while the Commis­ sioners of Police, the prosecutors in this remarkable case, extri( ? ) �8 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND EBRO RS. cated themselves from a difficult position by an act which under all circumstances must be subject to severe criticism. The old system of making the accused turn Queen's Evidence, and of compelling him to state on oath in a public court that he was not the principal offender, bad enough as it is, was abandoned in this case, and the culprit was allowed to make a secret state­ ment to that effect at Scotland Yard to a detective. On this private statement which naturally made Mr.. G. B. Higgs (this is the real name of George Bedborough) appear as innocent as the new born babe, the prosecution based the speech which resulted in the suppression of a highly important case and in the slander of Dr. Havelock Ellis, a scientific author of world-wide renown, as also in the wanton persecution of Dr. R. de Villiers, the well-known Editor of the University Magazine. It will be necessary to examine the facts surrounding this extra­ ordinary case most minutely so as to understand the real nature of the deal which illustrates the dark side of our judicial system better than any case which has come to my knowledge in recent years. That I am personally interested in this case, having provided the larger part of the amount required for the defence of the accused, gives me access to letters and documents which prove beyond doubt that, as in most similar cases, sordid considerations have caused this perversion of justice, which certainly amounts to a judicial scandal if we consider the consequences of the transac­ tion. Tiie Police and the Press. On May 31st, 1898, Mr. G. B. Higgs, who, under the name of George Bedborough, carried on the business of a publisher and bookseller in London, was arrested by the police for “publishing an obscene libel with the intention of corrupting the morals of Her Majesty’s subjects.” The book on which this charge was based was Dr. Havelock Ellis s first volume of his great work “Studies in the Psychology of Sex. ’ The accused had nothing to do with the production of this book, neither as author nor as printer or publisher. He had simply sold copies of the same to disguised detectives. The police authorities were fully aware that the author was a well-known man �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND EBRO IIS. 9 of science, that the printer was Mr. A. Bonner of Tooks Court, and that the publishers were the University Press, as these names appeared on the book in bold type. Dr. Havelock Ellis appeared in person at the first and second hearing of the charge before the magistrate, declaring through his counsel that he was prepared to undertake the whole responsibility for the incriminated publication. The publishers were also represented at the police-court pro­ ceedings by Messrs. C. 0. Humphreys and Son, the well-known solicitors. For some reason or other Dr. Havelock Ellis’s offer did not suit the prosecution nor Sir John Bridge the magistrate, who stated that not the writing or publishing of the book in question but the sale to the detectives, i.e. the indiscriminate sale alleged to have been practised by Mr. Bedborough, constituted the offence. Articles contained in the Adult, a magazine owned and edited by the accused, were included in the charge, and Mr. Bedborough was committed for trial. It was soon apparent that Dr. Havelock Ellis’s work was not the real, or at least not the principal, object of this prosecution, but that it was aimed at the University Press Limited, which had published a number of philosophical, social, and theological works. The University Press also owned the University Magazine and Free Review, a periodical devoted to the free discussion of political, social, and religious subjects. Bedborough, besides his own publications, sold the books and magazines published by the University Press in the same way as other London booksellers and on the same terms. But his connec­ tion with the Legitimation League, a society founded for the pur­ pose of securing equal rights for legitimate and illegitimate children, gave the prosecution a welcome opportunity to cast a slur upon a firm of respectable publishers, who were never in any way connected with this society, or with any of Mr. Bedboiough s undertakings. It cannot be ascertained who hides behind the Commissioners of Police, who appeared as nominal prosecutors in these proceedings, but from the facts hereafter explained the reader will infer that the police have acted throughout on higher ordeis. �10 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. The first suspicion that Dr. Havelock Ellis’s work formed only the pretext for an unheard of persecution arose in the minds of the defence through the fact that the police in raiding Mr. Bed­ borough’s premises seized all the books lately published by the University Press, particularly The Free Review, edited by G. Astor Singer. The University Magazine, edited by Dr. R. de Villiers. Pseudo-Philosophy at the End oh the Nineteenth Century, by Hugh Mortimer Cecil. The Dynamics of Religion, an essay in English Culture History, by M. W. Wiseman. The Saxon and the Celt, by John M. Robertson. Montaigne and Shakspere, by John M. Robertson. The Blight of Respectability, by Geoffrey Mortimer. None of these publications did ever form or could ever have been the object of a direct prosecution, yet the police seized these works indiscriminately, and it became evident from this and subsequent proceedings that English prejudice and prudery were to be worked for what they were worth for the purpose of suppressing publications which were in no' way connected with the alleged offence “of pub­ lishing an obscene libel with the intention of corrupting the morals of Her Majesty’s subjects.” This secret intention is proved beyond doubt by the speech of the counsel for the prosecution at the trial, which I will fully examine in its true light hereafter. It must be of interest to the lawyer as well as to the student of politics to learn liow successfully this plan to suppress a wellknown magazine and to send its editor into exile has been carried out by those entrusted with the task. Studies in the Psychology of Sex. The first volume of Dr. Havelock Ellis’s work Studies in the Psychology of Sex was published by the University Press Limited in February, 1898. It was the first and only work on the vital question of sex published by this firm, whose managing director and principal shareholder I am. As such I share the responsi­ bility for its publication with the author. Dr. R. de Villiers, the Editor of the University Magazine, in 1897 called my attention to the German edition of this volume, �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. 11 and to the general praise which the same had found in scientific circles on the Continent and in the United States of America. The name of the illustrious author of many scientific works however would alone have been a guarantee for me that the book was of the highest and noblest aim, and that it was written in the true scien­ tific spirit which characterises Dr. Havelock Ellis’s well-known writings. Indeed my decision to publish this book needs no justification before the scientific world. I submitted the M.S. to medical men and to psychologists, who' unanimously declared it to be of the greatest importance, not only for the medical profession, but also for teachers, lawyers, clergymen, and students of psychological problems. So I decided upon its publication, and the book was printed by Mr. A. Bonner. As however it was not desirable that this book should come into the hands of inexperienced youth I gave instructions that all copies supplied to booksellers, including, of course, those supplied by the University Press to Mr. Bedborough, should bear a label with the inscription: “ This book is a scientific work intended for Medical Men, Lawyers, and Teachers. It should not be placed into the hands of the general public.” To Mr. Bedborough-Higgs the book was supplied in the usual way, and the only explanation why the authorities selected this man out of many other booksellers in London who sold the book is that he was connected with, or rather that he was the moving spirit in, a society which advocated “ Freedom in Sexual Relationship,” a Free-Love Society, of which he was the head and soul. Another reason may have been that Bedborough-Higgs was without means, and thus, as the police was led to believe,; would be unable to defend himself against a powerful official prosecution. Anyhow, as sub­ sequent events proved, the police authorities were right in their calculation that poor Bedborough-Higgs was not made of a material to withstand the attack. He collapsed ignominiously, and to the joy of the prosecution cut a very sorry figure in the subsequent proceedings. A Solicitor’s Chance. The most interesting part of the comedy is the association of the �12 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. accused with a London solicitor for the purpose of extracting money from the public for his defence which this gentleman never intended to carry through, as proved subsequently by counsel for the prosecution in his speech before the Recorder of London. A few days after Bedborough’s arrest I received in New York a cable from Dr. de Villiers, the Editor of the University Magazine, requesting me to guarantee at least part of the expenses for the defence of the accused, and particularly the payment of counsel’s fees. I consented, and part of the money was paid to Mr. Wyatt Digby, the solicitor selected by Mr. Bedborough for his defence. “A storm of indignation,” Dr. de Villiers wrote, “has broken over the country, and especially over the scientific world, when the new practice of prosecuting a bookseller for selling a scientific work became known through the newspapers. A protest was raised by medical and anthropological societies against this wanton attack on an author’s repute. We must have funds for the defence as Bedborough is a poor devil, and you should guarantee the pay­ ment of counsel’s fees and solicitor’s costs to a limited amount, while a Free Press Defence Committee is formed to provide further funds.” Unacquainted with the bye-ways of the laws in England and the tricks of London solicitors, I was unaware that by providing these funds I practically caused the insult offered to the author by the prosecution at the trial, and, in fact, the collapse of the defence, which it was intended to place on a sound basis by engaging a leading counsel to defend the accused as well as author and publisher. How the Police Proceeded. A Scotland Yard detective, Mr. Sweeney, one of those innocent souls, whose morals are so easily corrupted, was sent into the lion’s den to prove that the secretary of the Legitimation League sold books with intent to corrupt the morals of Her Majesty's subjects. He represented himself as a friend of L. Harman, the president of the Legitimation League, and showed himself enthusiastic for the cause of securing equal rights for legitimate and illegitimate children. Mr. Sweeney accepted an invitation to the meeting and annual dinner of the League, at which he was present listening to the speeches of other enthusiasts. It seems that these proceedings �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND EliltORS. 13 were rather harmless, anyhow the detective’s morals had not been corrupted then and there, so that to attain the object in view he cultivated the secretary’s friendship with the view of obtaining better evidence of his pernicious designs on English morality. Amongst the many books sold by Mr. Bedborough he found one with an attractive and yet mysterious title: “Studies m the Psychology of Sex,” by Dr. Havelock Ellis. Forthwith he acquired a copy, and to prove the sale and the mercenary cor­ ruption of his morals, he paid for it. As the detective is a grown-up man, and as his innocence was concealed, Mr. Bed­ borough knowing him only as an enthusiastic follower of the Legitimation League, of course he obtained a copy of this scientific work without any difficulty. After corrupting his morals with it he took it straight to the Commissioner of Police, whose morals no doubt were likewise corrupted, so that the inevitable consequence was that Mr. Sweeney received instructions to swear an informa­ tion at the Bow Street Police Court, which in due course led to the arrest of Mr. Bedborough, and to the seizure of all the dan­ gerous books in his possession. The magistrate, shocked by the accused’s depravity as described in Mr. Sweeney’s information, refused to admit the prisoner to bail, but at a later application fixed it at £1,000. Thus for the English public the gravity of the offence was established forthwith and beforehand. At the conclusion of the proceedings before the magistrate, Mr. Avory, representing Mr. Bedborough, and seeing that Sir John Bridge had made up his mind to send the case for trial, said that he could not hope to convert the learned magistrate from the view to which he had given expression, and would only say that the accused was prepared to contend that the works referred to in the case were not obscene. “ I shall be prepared to maintain that this is not an obscene publication, but a scientific work if it be approached—as it is intended it should be— by persons of scientific mind and a desire to learn. (Mr. Avory went on to quote the case of ‘ Reg. v. Hickling,’ with the object of showing that the question of obscenity of a work depended upon the method of its publication. Many scientific works would be obscene if they were published broadcast at the corner of the street; but they were not obscene if they were only circu­ lated among scientific men.) The price and method of the publication of the ‘Sexual Inversion’ showed that that was the intention in this case. The �14 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. practices mentioned in the book were not advocated by the author, as the prosecution had stated, and at the proper time he would challenge his learned friend to prove what he had stated on this point. In conclusion Mr. Avory read the last paragraph in the book as follows: —‘ Here we may leave the question of Sexual Inversion. In dealing with it I have sought to avoid that attitude of moral superiority which is so common in the litera­ ture of this subject, and have refrained from pointing out how loathsome this phenomenon is, and how hideous. Such an attitude is as much out of place in scientific investigation as it is in judicial investigation, and may well be left to the amateur. The physician who feels anything of disgust at the sight of disease is unlikely to bring either succour to his patients or instruc­ tion to his pupils.’ ” Sir John Bridge, when committing the accused for trial, had all the information concerning the author’s, printer’s, and publisher s part in this publication before him, yet no action was taken against either, and the indictment, which included certain articles in the Adult, was practically confined to the way of selling the incriminated book and magazine. A Gratuitous Advertisement. As the demand for Dr. Havelock Ellis’s book increased very con­ siderably through the advertisement given to it by the police­ court proceedings, and as I did not wish this work to fall into the hands of the young and of persons for whom it was never intended, I ordered the sale to be stopped at once, and the author consented to this step. Amongst those anxious to acquire the book were many students at Oxford and Cambridge, boys at Eton, Rugby, and Harrow, even girls at boarding schools, all of whom would never have heard of its existence if the great publicity given to the police-court proceedings by the entire press in Great Britain had not called their attention to this medical work. Not one single copy however was supplied to serve this morbid curiosity, and the Editor of the University Magazine perceiving the danger of spurious reprints of the work being published in Paris and New York to satisfy the great demand created by the police addressed the following letter to the Home Secretary:_ Sir, May I call your attention to a grave error of judgment committed by the Commissioners of Police in the prosecution of a London Publisher and Bookseller for selling a scientific work entitled ‘ Studies in the Psycho­ logy of Sex,’ by Havelock Ellis, the eminent author of many valuable works of science and editor of the Contemporary Science series (Walter Scott). I am confident that you will not underrate the very serious consequences �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. 15 of this prosecution if you will consider the following facts with which the undersigned, having in 1897 advised the University Press to’ publish this work, is fully acquainted. “ (1) During the year 1897 and up to1 the arrest of Mr. Bedborough, Dr. Havelock Ellis’s work which follows in the footsteps of Professor von KrafftEbing’s well known book ‘ Psychopathia Sexualis’ has been demanded and supplied exclusively to the medical profession, to lawyers, teachers, and clergymen, and to booksellers. The publishers have taken every possible precaution that the book should not be sold to the general public, and all copies sold to booksellers bore a label with the following inscription: — “ ‘ This book is a scientific work intended for medical men, lawyers, and teachers. “ ‘ It should not be placed into the hands of the general public.’ “ It may thus be supposed that the trade in general has supplied this book only at the request of professional men for whom the work is of paramount importance. “The publishers have abstained from advertising the book in any news­ paper, and review copies have been sent only to medical journals. The price was that of other scientific works of similar dimension. “ (2) Since the commencement of the proceedings at the Bow Street Police Court, the wise precautions of the publishers however have been frustrated by the extensive advertisement caused by these proceedings all over Great Britain and America, so that the publishers as well as booksellers in all parts of the English speaking world are inundated with orders, not only from adults but also from boys at the public schools, from students at Universities, and from persons for whom the book has never been intended. “ The publishers, following my advice, have forthwith withdrawn the book from sale, but they are unable to stop the sale of copies which are in the hands of booksellers all over the country. “ It will thus appear that the Commissioners of Police who charge a book­ seller in London with selling the book to detectives with intent to corrupt the morals of Her Majesty’s subjects, are practically guilty of the very offence of which they accuse Mr. Bedborough, as by their ill-advised act the book has been clayed into the hands of persons who otherwise would never have known of its existence. The almost inevitable consequences of the withdrawal of the book by the University Press, simultaneous with the great demand created by the police, will be the spurious re-publication of this work in Paris and New York; and the public schools at Eton, Harrow, etc., will be flooded with circulars by unscrupulous foreign publishers, who will profit by the gratuitous advertise­ ment given by the Commissioners of Police to this publication. “ This advertisement has increased with every hearing at the police court, and will find its climax at the trial. “ If it should be in your power to arrest the progress of the mischievous practice of the police of making scientific works of this description popular, you could do much to prevent the corruption of public morals. “Should on the other hand this newly initiated practice of prosecuting �16 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. booksellers for selling medical works dealing with obstetrics or sexual dis­ orders be continued m the future, the young will obtain access to many books the existence of which was necessarily unknown to them until now. The public in general and the medical profession in particular will be grateful to you if you will oppose such tendency in the future, if you should not have the power to interfere in the present grievous blunder of the police. “ I have sent a copy of this letter to the Commissioners of Police and to the Press. “ I am, Sir, “ Your obedient Servant, “R. de Villiers.” The speech for the prosecution by Mr. Matthews at the trial seems to point to the possibility that this honest letter to the Home Secretary must have raised the ire of the parties responsible for the prosecution, and must have induced them to apply to the magistrate for a warrant for the arrest of Dr. de Villiers, who had actually nothing whatever to do with the publishing of the in­ criminated book. Innumerable letters of sympathy were received by the author of the book as well as by the Editor of the University Magazine, and a Iree Press Defence Committee was formed by Mr. Henry Seymour. Many eminent authorities and literary men joined this Committee, many who were not at all in sympathy with Mr. Bed­ borough s views on Free Love or Legitimation, but who felt the necessity to protect the press from arbitrary interference by the police, and who abhorred the newly-established press-censorship. The Free Press Defence Committee issued the following circular: — & “FREE PRESS DEFENCE COMMITTEE. The Bedborough Prosecution. �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. 17 who are continuing the researches initiated by the famous criminologist, Lombroso. It is written in a spirit of scientific detachment. It throws light upon certain abnormalities, with a view to their rectification ; it is unpleasant in the same way that a treatise on cancer is unpleasant. But it is surely maintainable—and this may be said without prejudice to whatever is sub judice—that to call such a book obscene is an abuse of language, to stop its circulation amongst adult students is a gross violation of the freedom of the press, and to imprison a man for selling it to an adult customer is an outrage on the primary rights of free citizenship. Since the commencement of the prosecution other charges have been brought against Mr. Bedborough, founded upon publications seized by the police in raiding his rooms at the time of his arrest. These publications were all advertised and sold openly, and there was no need to resort to such methods of incrimination. They are copies of the Adult, the monthly organ of the Legitimation League, an organisation which exists for the purpose of ventilating sexual problems, par­ ticularly in relation to marriage and the status of women; and also copies of various pamphlets issued under the auspices of that body. “It should be mentioned that Mr. Bedborough is not arraigned for any writings of his own. He is called upon to bear the burden of the defence of the writings of others, with whom he is not necessarily in agreement. Neither the writers of the pamphlets and periodicals, nor the author, printer, or publishers of the book in question are included in the indictment. He alone is singled out as the victim of this ill-advised, and perhaps malicious prosecution. “ The Free Press Defence Committee has been formed in order to resist this police attack upon liberty. Its members belong to' many different schools of opinion. They are not in any way concerned with the particular views entertained by Mr. Bedborough, or set forth in the writings which form the ground of the prosecution. The present is neither the time nor the occasion to express either agreement or dissent. The one thing to be done is to defend the liberty of all opinions. It is always the bigots who choose the point of attack, and it is there that the friends of freedom must rally. The most important thing is that Mr. Bedborough should be properly defended, and the Free Press Defence Committee is pledged to obtain for him (if possible) the requisite support. A fair amount has already been sub­ scribed, but far more will be required, especially as the case will probably be taken to the Court of Queen’s Bench. It is hoped, therefore, that sub­ scriptions will be forwarded without delay to' the Honorary Treasurer, Mrs. Gladys Dawson, Bedford Hotel, Covent Garden, London, W.C. “ The Committee appeal most earnestly to all who value the freedom of the press to lend their aid in this emergency. It is not enough to condemn the prosecution as unwise. This alone will not protect the principle which is assailed, nor save the living victim from the sufferings and indignities of imprisonment. The prosecution must be actively resisted. This is what the Committee calls upon every lover of liberty to' assist in doing. A strong, united stand against oppression at this moment will strengthen the securities of freedom in the future.” �18 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. Amongst the great number of gentlemen and ladies who joined the Committee I may name the following: — Grant Allen. T. B. Askew. E. Belfort Bax. Robert Braithwaite. Robert Buchanan. Mona Caird. Edward Carpenter. Joseph Collinson. Walter Crane. A. F. Cross. Thomas du Deney. Mrs. Despard. Dr. H. Densmore. G. W. Foote. Frank Harris. George Jacob Holyoake. Geoffrey Mortimer. George Moore. F. H. Perry-Coste. William Platt. Frank Todmore. H. Quelch. John M. Robertson. W. Stewart Ross. Henry S. Salt. William Sharpe. George Bernard Shaw. George Standing. Edward Temple. W. M. Thompson. John Trevor. Charles Watts. Dr. T. M. Watt. The English Press, with the exception of the reptile and mug­ wump section, expressed its view with much frankness against the police prosecution, and aided thereby the work of the Committee. A few of the numerous articles on the subject which appeared after the committal of the accused will be found in Appendix I. At many public meetings held in the Metropolis the new system of suppressing scientific works initiated by the Commissioners of the Police was denounced, and probably the party who instigated this prosecution became doubtful as to its success, but yet it could rely on the stupidity of a prejudiced Old Bailey Jury as the appli­ cation to remove the case to the High Court and a special jury had been refused. A Mysterious Letter. A strange thing happened after the decision of the magistrate to send the case for trial had been given. A number of booksellers in London and in the principal provin­ cial towns, mostly customers of the University Press Limited, re­ ceived the following communication by post: — “PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL. “Criminal Investigation Department, “Scotland Yard, W.C. “ Sir,—The arrest and committal of a London bookseller should serve you as a warning. �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. 19 “ Take notice that the police will arrest and prosecute any bookseller who in the future should sell the atheistic and abominable publications of the University Press. “A Christian.” It is, of course, certain that these letters did not emanate from the police or from Scotland Yard, nor could the same have been sent with the knowledge or approval of the Scotland Yard authori­ ties, but it is more than probable that some person or society con­ nected with the prosecution or interested in the proceedings had written them with the view of frightening booksellers. This ruse succeeded admirably because many of the more timid booksellers “to avoid arrest and prosecution’’ refused to sell the University Magazine any further, and in consequence of this boycott the monthly issue of this publication had to be suspended. It will surprise my readers that the tenor of Mr. Matthews’ speech before the Recorder is somewhat similar to this mysterious mes­ sage, in so far as the University Press is named as the real offender, so that we must ask whether this crusade was really directed against Mr. Bedborough or against the University Press, with which Mr. Bedborough was not connected any more than any other bookseller in London. After the Committal. The committal of Mr. Bedborough took place on June 21st, and the time which elapsed since then to the day of the mock trial on October 31st was used by the Free Press Defence Committee to collect funds for the defence of the accused, and in this endeavour its able secretary, who devoted much of his time and energy to this task, was fairly successful. But alas in the meantime Mr. Bedborough and his shrewd solicitor had discovered that the cheapest and most profitable way out of the difficulty would be to come to terms with the Commis­ sioners of Police, and to appropriate the funds. Although it is not likely that Mr. Wyatt Digby divided the spoil with Mr. Bedborough, there is not the least doubt that the latter played into his hands by concealing his arrangement with the prosecution from the Committee and from myself, and thereby caused the amount of about £400 to be passed into the possession of the solicitors. �20 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. Mr. Matthews’s speech describes best and in clear language what happened while Mr. Wyatt Digby used pressure to obtain as much money as possible from the Committee, and while by an unworthy trick the same gentleman extracted a further sum of £150 from my wife for the purpose of paying counsel’s fees for his client’s defence. A Penitent Sinner. Mr. Bedborough, according to counsel’s statement, after his com­ mittal, went to Scotland Yard, and by the authorities there was allowed to make a statement to the effect that he was only a very subordinate sub-agent of the Editor of the University Magazine, Dr. R. de Villiers, and that this gentleman was the real culprit. He offered to plead guilty to three counts in the indictment as a matter of form if the prosecution would give him a guarantee that he would not be sent to prison. The Commissioners of Police, if they were the real prosecutors in this prosecution, must have had grave doubts as to the success of the impending trial, or there must have been some other reasons that they decided to accept the bargain proposed by Mr. Bed­ borough. It may be that they were incensed by Dr. de Villiers’s letter to the Home Secretary, and felt a kind of satisfaction in substituting that gentleman for the wretched prisoner who made this proposal. As matters stood the proposed settlement would amount to a victory for the police, a clever speech by counsel would make it appear a real triumph over these wicked publishers, and smaller obstacles could easily be overcome. Indeed such an arrangement, if not quite honest and above board, seemed satisfactory to all parties immediately concerned, to the prosecution, to the accused, and last, not least, to the solicitor for the defence, Mr. Wyatt Digby, who, without paying counsel’s fees, could easily manage to retain the large amount received for the defence. Not less interesting than the carrying out of the arrangement arrived at between the parties is the story of Mr. Wyatt Digby’s successful endeavour to get hold of as much money for the defence of his client as could possibly be obtained under the circumstances. Part of his scheme was to keep the arrangement secret until a few �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. 21 days before the trial, and in the meantime tu secure the largest possible amount from the two sources which were open to him. The following letter will show how eager Mr. Wyatt Digby was to secure the amount of my guarantee, and how anxious to obtain adjournments of the trial to gain time for the purpose of collecting further funds from the Dree Press Defence Committee: — “ Wyatt Digby and Co. “ 5 and 6, Clements Inn, Strand, “ London, W.C., “July 14th, 1898. “ Reg. v. Bedborough. “ Dear Sirs,—It is necessary now to make some arrangements with regard to counsel’s fees herein. “ We fully appreciate the contents of your former letter as to your guaran­ tee, but shall be glad if you will give us a call at your earliest convenience so that we may discuss the matter for future arrangements. “ Yours faithfully, “ Wyatt Digby and Co.” “ The University Press Limited.” All this time (in July) it was already arranged between the prosecution and defence that the case should not be taken until after the vacation at the end of October, 1898. Yet on July 21st Mr. Wyatt Digby addressed the following letter to the Editor of the University Magazine : — “ Wyatt Digby and Co. “ 5 and 6, Clements Inn, Strand, “July 14th, 1898. “ Dear Sir,—Referring to your letter of the 19th and ours of yesterday we presume that you asked Mr. Singer to cable the money over as if it is only sent by post it will not arrive in time for the trial, and of course it ought to be here not later than Friday, or at the very latest Saturday morning. Of course we do not wish to press the matter, but we think it right to point this out. We are doing everything possible in the case, and shall leave no stone unturned to secure success, and our only anxiety is that we may be prevented from taking the necessary steps for want of funds. “ If it is not clear that the money will be cabled, will you be good enough to send a further cable asking for this to be done. “ We are, “ Yours faithfully, “ Wyatt Digby and Co.” “R. de Villiers, “ University Press, Watford.2’ I suspected these gentlemen, and instructed my representative �22 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. not to pay the amount until our own solicitors, Mr. C. 0. Humphreys and Son, should advise us to do> so. On August 10th the following communication was received from Mr. Wyatt Digby: — “Wyatt Digby and Co. “5 and 6, Clements Inn, Strand, “ London, W.C. “ Dear Sirs,—It is necessary that we should be at once put in funds for the necessary expenses which have been incurred and for the further expenses which have now to be incurred, and it is absolutely necessary that we should have £150 at once for the purpose of preparing for the trial as there is no time to be lost. “ Hoping to hear from you with a cheque by return. “ Yours faithfully, “ Wyatt Digby and Co.” Mr. Digby must have been afraid that the terms of the settle­ ment proposed by Mr. [Bedborough to the police might become known before he would be able to secure all the cash available from the two sources, and on August 31st he wrote the following epistle: — “ Wyatt Digby and Co. “5 and 6, Clements Inn, Strand, “London, W.C., “August 31st, 1898. “ Regina v. Bedborough. “ Dear Sir,—We are surprised that we have not received any reply to our letter of the 9th inst. The Committee have now paid us the sum of £50, which, we understand, is all the money they have in hand, and they have promised a further £50 on the day of the trial (which will be personally sub­ scribed by them as sufficient funds have not been received from the public). They have also guaranteed the sum of £50 to be paid at some later date which at present cannot be fixed, and will also be obtained by subscription among themselves. This makes in all the sum of £150, which is the total amount they are in a position to provide now or at any future time. We have previously received the sum of £140, namely, £50 from yourself and £90 from the Committee. This amount has been expended in regard to expenses prior to trial, including counsel’s fees before the magistrate, costs of applica­ tions for certiorari, and other costs. “ As to the counsel’s fees on trial it has been arranged to brief Mr. Avory and Mr. Rose-Innes. Their fees on the trial, assuming the case to last three days (which is the least time it can be reasonably expected to take), will amount to 110 guineas and 68 guineas respectively, making a total of about 180 guineas. “Of course, the case may last longer than three days, in fact it is not �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND EBBOBS. 23 unlikely that it will occupy as long as a week, and in this case further fees will have to be paid beyond the 180 guineas. Counsel’s fees will have to be paid when the briefs are delivered. “ In addition to the counsel’s fees, of course there are payments to wit­ nesses, which will be heavy, and there are solicitor's charges, and other expenses which must necessarily amount to a very considerable sum. The amount which we have received, and are to receive from the Committee, will not be sufficient for the purpose of providing the witnesses’ fees and expenses and our costs; therefore it is necessary to look to you under your guarantee for the amount of counsel’s fees, and you will see that the £150, the balance guaranteed by you, is not sufficient for this purpose. “ However we have now agreed with the Committee that we will carry the matter through to a conclusion and do everything possible to ensure a suc­ cessful defence on their carrying out their arrangements as above mentioned, conditionally on your providing us with the £150 toward counsel’s fees a sufficient time before the trial. If we receive this, counsel will be briefed, and the matter will go to trial, but we are compelled to say that we cannot deliver the briefs until we get your cheque for £150. At the very latest the briefs must be delivered to counsel by September 6th if they are to have suffi­ cient time to get up the case. We must therefore rely on you to send us the cheque as promised by that date. “We are sure that you will understand that we have no desire to put any undue pressure or to require payment of more than is necessary, but it is essential that there should be no hitch in regard to the matter on the eve of the trial. If you would prefer we should be quite satisfied if you would send the amount to Mr. Seymour, as secretary to the Committee, or to Mr. Bedborough, or to both jointly, to ensure the matter being properly carried through. Of course, any payment by you to the Committee on this account will be a performance of your guarantee to us. “ Yours faithfully, “ Wyatt Digby and Co.” From this last letter it will be seen that Mr. Wyatt Digby, while pressing for the payment of £150, had already obtained all the money he could get from the Free Press Defence Committee. I was in New York at that time. On September 9th our solicitors, Messrs. C. 0. Humphreys and Son, informed us by wire that the case would not come on for trial until the end of October. Mr. Wyatt Digby, the defendant’s own solicitor, must have known this fact as well as Mr. Humphreys. Yet on September 12th he induced the foreman at our printing works to try desperately to obtain’the amount from my wife, hinting at the same time that the telegram sent by our own solicitor was a mistake or a trick on the part of the prosecution. Mrs. Singer was intimidated by a statement that the case would �24 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. be heard the next day, and that a cheque for £150 was immediately and urgently required to pay counsel’s fees. The amount was paid under pressure and without my knowledge. From the moment when Mr. Wyatt Digby had received all the money available the scene suddenly changed. All became quiet while the necessary preparations for the com­ promise were carried out. The solicitor’s sole interest lay in the retention of the amounts received from the Free Press Defence Committee and from Mrs. Singer with the specific stipulation that it should be handed over to counsel for Mr. Bedborough’s defence. Mr. Avory never received a penny of this money. The pre­ arranged plea of “Guilty” made this payment superfluous. The able counsel who had in the preliminary stage done all in his power, and who was fully acquainted with the whole case, was deprived of his fee, and, of course, did not appear. The Details of a Compromise. The subsequent proceedings, as will be shown hereafter, con­ stitute one of the worst judicial scandals ever witnessed in England in a court of law during this century. A short introduction seems necessary to explain the particulars of the compromise, as stated by the accused himself a few days before the case was heard before the Recorder at the Central Criminal Court. On October 20th Dr. de Villiers, having been informed by Dr. Havelock Ellis of the rumour that a compromise between prosecu­ tion and defence had been effected, met the defendant, Mr. HiggsBedborough, and the following discussion took place: — The Editor of the University Magazine : Well, Mr. Bedborough, I hear a compromise has been arrived at with the prosecution, is that true? Bedborough : Yes, everything is settled. You know the Commissioners of Police are afraid of losing this game, they think we are awfully strong, and so they have proposed a settlement. The Editor : And on what terms ? Bedborough : I am to plead guilty as a matter of form, and I will only be bound over in my own recognizances. I shall receive no punishment what­ ever. The Editor : A nice job. Plead guilty to what? Bedborough : To three counts out of the eleven of the indictment. They �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. 25 will drop the others, and Mr. Matthews, the prosecuting counsel, himself will propose my acquittal, or what practically amounts to the same thing. The Editor: For God’s sake, Mr. Bedborough, do you not feel your responsibility towards the author of the book and towards the Free Press Defence Committee ? And do you know that such a settlement is illegal, do you know that the judge may refuse to be a party to it? Mind, the judges in England, as far as I know, do not approve of compromises in criminal cases. Bedborough : Oh, that is all right, I am quite safe as everything has been settled satisfactorily. The case does not come before the judge at all, it will come before the Recorder, and Mr. Matthews arranges everything with Sir Charles Hall beforehand. There is no risk. The Editor : Be careful, such a settlement sometimes may benefit all parties concerned, but under the circumstances it is a dangerous and a scandalous thing. Can you refund the money received by your solicitors for the defence from the Free Press Defence Committee ? Bedborough : No, I cannot, but what could I do, the proposal came from the prosecution, how could I refuse ? I must save my skin, I do not want to go to prison. The Editor : Have you consulted the Committee before you accepted these terms ? ■ Bedborough : No, I have not, they would never have consented. What do I care for them ? The Editor : Well, Mr. Bedborough, take care, no English judge, not even the Recorder, will be a party to a settlement of this kind, and the safer way for you, and the more honorable way, would be to brief counsel for the defence. Bedborough : My solicitor assures me that that would be unnecessary, and the money thus spent would be thrown away. I hear that the whole thing will be over in less than twenty minutes. I am to state that I plead guilty to three counts of the indictment, and not guilty to the others. Then Mr. Matthews, the prosecuting counsel, will declare that he accepts my plea, and that the prosecution would be satisfied if his lordship the Recorder would bind me over in my own recognizances. Of course then the Recorder will make a short speech, but in the end he will act upon the suggestion of Mr. Matthews. Wyatt Digby, my solicitor, says this settlement is in the interest of everybody concerned. The Editor : Oh, certainly, particularly in that of Wyatt Digby who has received about £400 for the defence. Well, good luck. The Trial. It is a wonderful arrangement indeed; the case which, accord­ ing to the statement of the defendant’s solicitor, would last at least three days, was over in less than twenty minutes. But only from the lips of Mr. Matthews we have an authentic statement how this compromise came about. His statement in the Central Criminal Court was not contradicted or modified in any �26 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. way by the accused, and therefore it must be considered as the correct one. Yet the result of the deal was predicted quite correctly by Mr. Bedborough; counsel and Recorder acted exactly as he had stated some days previously. The accused left the court free, Sir John Bridge, in fixing his bail at <£1,000, had made a most serious blunder, he had sent an innocent or quasi-innocent man for trial. I give here the verbatim report of this remarkable and perhaps unique trial. My subsequent comment will clear up some dark points and rectify palpable errors. Copy of Verbatim Report. CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT. Monday, October 31st, 1898. Before Sir Chas. Hall (Recorder). REGINA v. BEDBOROUGH. (Eor Libel.) Mr. Matthews appeared for the Prosecution. Mr. Tickel (Cleric of Arraigns): George Bedborough: You are indicted for having unlawfully and wickedly published and sold, and caused to be procured and to be sold, a wicked, bawdy and scandalous and obscene book called 11 Ihe Study of Psychology of Sex.” There are other counts charging you with having published other obscene and scandalous books. Are you guilty or not guilty? The Defendant: I am Guilty on Counts'1, 2, and 3. Mr. Matthews : And as to the rest ? The Defendant : I am not guilty. Mr. Tickel : May the jury go, my lord? The Recorder : Yes, if Mr. Matthews accepts that plea. Do you accept that plea, Mr. Matthews ? Mr. Matthews : Yes, my lord, but I shall have something to say with regard to those counts to which he has pleaded. The Recorder : Those counts are what ? Mr. Matthews : Nos. 1, 2, and 3, my lord. The first relates to a book to which I desire to make no further reference, except by �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. 27 (in. my own language) adding to the plea of the prisoner that it is an unseemly, suggestive book. So far as Count 2 is concerned that is the publication in print of a lecture purporting to have been delivered at a meeting of the Legitimation League on December 6th of last year, and which still purports to be the outcome of the Legitimation League. AVith regard to what has been printed m that pamphlet I am desirous of adding to the plea of the prisoner, as it is recorded now, that it is obscene in its character, and that it was issued with the described intention. The Recorder : Is the prisoner defended by counsel ? Mr. Matthews : I think not now, my lord. The Recorder (to the defendant) : You appear here personally, or have you counsel? The Defendant : I am quite indifferent, my lord, as to that. Mr. Matthews says there is no counsel representing me. If that is so I am prepared to go through without counsel. The Recorder : Very well. Mr. Matthews : The 3rd Count of the Indictment—and it is right, I think, that your lordship should have these matters before you—refers to the issue of the January number of the so-called magazine, which has the title of the Adult, and the extract in the January number is referred to in the 3rd Count of the Indictment, and is said to be now confessed by the defendant to be obscene in its character. My lord, on behalf of the prosecution, represented by my friend Mr. Danskwertz and myself, we are content, as is the Commissioner of Police—who was responsible for the conduct of this prosecution before the magistrate, and is responsible here t0.day—we are content to accept the plea of the prisoner on the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Counts more especially; but I may tell your lordship that so far as the eight remaining Counts are concerned— the Indictment consisting of eleven Counts—the eight remaining all of them refer to other numbers of that same periodical in the so-called magazine entitled the Adult. My lord, since the defendant has thought right to plead Guilty to the 3rd Count, which says of everyone of those, that it is obscene, and since he has in public made confession that it is so, we will content our­ selves, so far as the remaining Counts are concerned, to1 forego proceeding with regard to them, referring as they do to other �28 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. numbers of that magazine. But I may here say that it must not be for one moment understood that we withdraw in anv sense the charge that we make against him in connection with those Counts, that they are obscene in their character. May I tell your lordship that in the first instance that when this prosecution was started it was conceived by those in authority that the defendant who is before you, was a chief offender in the publi­ cation and sale of this disgusting book, in the publication and sale of this disgusting lecture, and in the publication and sale of this disgusting magazine. That was then the belief that he was the prime mover, at all events a prime mover in the circulation of this specious literature. But, my lord, on examination, I am glad to be able to tell your lordship he has shown us that we were mis­ taken in this belief, and I am very glad to be able to give your lordship that assurance to-day because, the magisterial inquiry being over, the defendant took a course of which I think your lordship will entirely approve, for he himself, of his own action, without any invitation at all, went to the authorities at Scotland Yard, placed himself in communication with them, and to them he disclosed what he said was the actual position which he occu­ pied with regard to the publication and sale of this work. My lord, he did more than that: he asked the police at Scotland Yard to make inquiry for the purpose of satisfying those officers that what he told them was true, and that he had taken no principal part in this terrible traffic, but that his part was entirely subordi­ nate, and so subordinate that he was able to reduce it to its proper proportion, and the result of what he said, followed by the inquiry made by the police, was to show that so far as the sale and publica­ tion was concerned, during the whole time, that the prisoner was acting as sub-agent for what is called “The Watford University Press,” and that in publishing this book he, the defendant, acted as sub-agent for that press at some premises in John Street, Bedford Row. The Recorder. : What is it called ? Mr. Matthews: “The Watford University Press,” my lord. The Recorder : It has nothing to do with any university at all, I suppose ? Mr. Matthews : No, my lord, it is a mere title. V �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. 29 The Recorder : It is a very high-sounding title, which may take in a great many people. Mr. M atthews : No doubt, my lord, and we may take it to be so. For that purpose, no doubt, it was, as I told you, but I do not think the defendant was responsible for that. However that may be he did make it clear that during the time he was in office in John Street, Bedford Row, there had been personally sold by him three copies, and only three copies, of this work at all. He also called attention to the fact—and he had a perfect right in calling attention to it—that before the time he was employed upon these premises there was employed there another sub-agent, who had been there for a considerable time, and that sub-agent was called by us before the magistrate, and that before the time he went there no doubt there was an exceedingly large sale under him. In addi­ tion to that there was another salesman. There was a house­ keeper employed during the time the defendant was employed there, and that housekeeper sold no less than ten copies, all in the absence of the defendant. The Recorder : Surely that is not the girl of 16 who was allowed to handle these wretched books ? Mr. Matthews : No, my lord, she is an older woman than that. The defendant has been able to show (and that is one of the sub­ stantial grounds of his appeal) that there preceded him a man who extensively sold these books, and against whom no proceedings have been taken, while the defendant says, “ I sold no more than three in all.” There was another person employed at the same time, who sold more than three times that number. They are witnesses, but there is that difference between him and them, which he asks to have directly pointed out to you. Then on its being said, “ Oh but as far as you were concerned you were in authority and you were the person actually in control.” “Not so,” says the defendant, “the person really in control, and the person who had the control of the Watford University Press, and the person who made all the profits out of the sale of those books produced by the Watford University Press, was a Dr. de Villiers.” That was the man at the head of the Watford University Press, and that was the man who made the profit out of those things, and that was the man who for a long time then had been the offender—the head and front of the offending, the outcome of circulating this class of �30 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND EHHOItS. literature. That that is the fact there.can be no question at all. Aly lord, Dr. de A’llliers has absconded. Against Dr. de Villiers a warrant has been applied for, and granted, and if Dr. de Villiers, who I am told is abroad at this moment, shall venture to return to this country, he may be quite certain that that warrant will be followed by immediate execution. Aly lord, may I say that those discoveries of themselves do not very materially reduce the quality of the prisoner’s guilt in regard to the publication and sale of this book. No doubt with regard to the lecture, the subject-matter of Count 2 of the Indictment, that is an outcome of the Legitimation League, it was not a lecture delivered by the defendant at all; but it was a lecture delivered by some person quite distinct from him. It was a lecture delivered by one who styles himself “ Oswald Dawson,” and it was delivered before the Legitimation League, although unquestionably at the time of its delivery the defendant was the secretary of that League. Aly lord, in reference to his connection with that League the defendant gave an earnest assurance that he would as far as he himself was concerned, from the date he was speaking, sever all connection with that League, and that he would sever himself from it once and for ever, that he would have no further dealing with it, and that he would decline any capacity which he held under it. AVith regard to the three indictments dealing with the publication in the so-called magazine in the January number, there again no doubt the defendant was the editor of that magazine, and he was so advertised upon the outward leaves of it. But there again he told the authorities that he had determined to sever himself not only from this magazine, and from the publication of this magazine, but he would sever himself once and for ever from the publication of anything of a similar nature, or which could be described as similar to this in future, that he would cut himself adrift from all surroundings by which he had been connected with the Legitimation League, and from all surroundings connecting him with this particular maga­ zine. Aly lord, those assurances being given, and it being realised that the real head and front of this offending was the absconding man Dr. de A'llliers, and it then being realised the part that the defendant has played in this story, that no money had gone to him as the proceeds of the sale of the book, and that so far as hjs �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. 31 connection with this League and his connection with this maga­ zine is concerned, though there had been that connection, he is desirous forthwith of severing himself, my lord, we do find evidence of good faith; and the giving of that assurance by the defendant to us, given as it were in the course of this month of October, I return to what is said to be the November number of the issue of that magazine, and we there find the name of another editor upon its title page. The defendant therefore has fulfilled that under­ standing in so far as that magazine is concerned. I only now venture to add in your lordship’s hearing—and I trust in doing so I do not exceed my duty at all, in saying that so far as that maga­ zine is concerned, it is one which will receive considerable watch­ fulness from those who are in authority, and that they who now go on with its publication must do so fully conscious that here, in a public court, one number of this same magazine has been con­ fessed to be obscene in its character, and the publication of it is of such a character as to involve criminal punishment. My lord, I trust that they who are responsible for the conduct of this so-called magazine will bear that well in mind, because, as I say, the con­ tents of it must of necessity be somewhat keenly watched by those in authority. Now, my lord, the defendant having convinced us of his actual position, and moreover after his undertaking, I am glad to be able to tell your lordship that he is a young man, as your lordship can see, and, moreover, he is a young man of very considerable capacity— The Recorder : One of the horrible things in connection with this filthy publication is that one woman bearing his name has been taking part in it, because I see a portrait in this magazine. I presume it is his wife. Mr. Matthews : My lord, I presume so. My lord, I under­ stand that is so. What the authorities desire to place before your lordship is this: Having this plea recorded of this young man, who has occupied this subordinate position, and having regard to the fact that he has given undertakings, and fulfilled one of those undertakings, the authorities are content, having regard to the surroundings of this particular case, if your lordship will defer passing sentence upon this young man before you, and that you will allow him to go out upon his own recognisances to come up �32 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. for judgment when called upon. We conceive that that course will have a very salutary effect, because it may be he will be able to turn the good talents which he evidently has to a useful pur­ pose, and he will know and will be thoroughly able to recognise that if he shall turn them in the direction—or in any such direc­ tion as he has promised not to turn them to, he will know that he is liable upon this conviction which has been recorded upon this indictment. I therefore ask that your lordship, under all the cir­ cumstances of the case, will adopt the course we suggest, and accept from me the complete statement of what the defendant has said, and take the lenient course which the authorities desire to com­ mend to your lordship for adoption. Judgment. Tiie Recorder : George Bedborough : You have pleaded Guilty to the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Counts of this Indictment, and you have acted wisely in so pleading to these Counts, for it would have been impossible for you to have contended with any possibility what­ ever of being able to persuade anybody that this book, this lecture, and this magazine were not filthy and obscene works. Now I have listened with great care to the address of the learned counsel, Mr. Matthews, who appears for the prosecution in this case, and I think it is right and proper that he should point out to the court and to you as the leading spirit in this venture, what he has done. I am willing to believe that in acting as you did, you might at the first outset perhaps have been gulled into the belief that somebody might say that this was a scientific work. But it is impossible for anybody with a head on his shoulders, to open the book without seeing that is a pretence and a sham, and that it is merely entered into for the purpose of selling this filthy publication. But it has been pointed out to, me, as I say, that you have taken a very small part in this, and I am unwilling my­ self that you should suffer while others go scot free who have taken a much bigger part in this affair than you have; and I am willing to believe that the instructions you have given are genuine and well founded. Again I must say that my greatest regret in connection with this case is to find a female with your consent—a woman bearing your name—is put forward as an active partici­ pator in these unwholesome and filthy discussions. If vou can use such influence as you have—and you can do so if you choose, �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. 33 I liope you will; and after the assurances you have given I trust it will not be necessary for anyone near and dear to1 you to be brought here. I agree with what Mr. Matthews has said, the law is slow but sure, and this sort of thing could not be tolerated, and if it goes on it must be put down by the strong arm of the law. I shall take the course which he has thrown out to the court. I shall postpone sentence in this case, or rather I shall bind you over upon recognisances to come up for judgment if called upon. The result of that will be this—that so long as you do not touch this filthy work again with your hands, and so long as you lead a respectable life, you will hear no more of this. But if you choose to go back to your evil ways, you will be brought up before me, and it will be my duty to send you to prison for a very long term. The sentence of the court upon you is that you be bound over in your own recognisances in the sum of <£100 to' come up for judg­ ment if called upon. The defendant was then bound over in the usual form in the sum of £100, and released on those recognisances. The reader can only grasp the importance of this mock trial if he is thoroughly conversant with the position of the author of the incriminated book and that of the publishers towards this prosecu­ tion. The Saturday Review sums up the situation quite correctly: — “ Owing to the form the prosecution took it fell on the publisher to defend the character of the book objected to, and for this purpose counsel had been instructed and evidence of the most conclusive character was in readiness, eminent men of science testifying that Mr. Havelock Ellis’s was a 'perfectly proper scientific discussion of a serious subject. But at the last moment, and, we have no doubt, with the knowledge of this circumstance, the Crown made certain proposals to Bedborough, the publisher, and this individual, for reasons best known to himself, adopted the shameful course of pleading guilty on some of the counts. The unhappy author, who was prepared to defend every­ thing he had written, thus found the ground suddenly cut from under his feet; he had no locus standi and could in no way interfere to pre­ vent the monstrous miscarriage of justice which inflicts on him so grave and undeserved a stigma. But, so far as we can see, he has absolutely no legal redress.” Tbe cowardice of the accused and the greed of his solicitor, com­ bined with the natural desire of the Commissioner of Police to gain a cheap victory where a defeat was almost certain, had brought about this deplorable state of affairs. c �34 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND EHHOBS. The first Count of the Indictment to which Mr. Bedborough thought fit to plead guilty runs as follows: — “ Central Criminal Court to Wit. The Jurors for our Sovereign Lady the Queen upon their oath present that George Bedborough, being a person of a wicked and depraved mind and disposition, and unlawfully and wickedly devising, contriving, and intending, to vitiate and corrupt the morals of the liege subjects of our said Lady the Queen, to debauch and poison the minds of divers of the liege subjects of our said Lady the Queen, and to raise and create in them disordered and lustful desires, and to bring the said liege subjects into a state of wickedness, lewdness, and debauchery, on the 27th day of May, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and ninety­ eight, at a certain shop, to wit Number 16 John Street, Bedford Row, in the County of London, and within the jurisdiction of the said Court, unlaw­ fully, wickedly, maliciously, scandalously, and wilfully did publish, sell, and utter, and cause and procure to be published, 3old, and uttered a certain lewd, wicked, bawdy, scandalous, and obscene libel, in the form of a book entitled ‘“Studies in the Psychology of Sex: Vol. I., Sexual Inversion,” by Havelock Ellis,’ in which said book are contained, amongst other things, divers wicked, lewd, impure, scandalous, and obscene libels, and matters, which said book is, pursuant to the provisions in that behalf, of the Law of Libel Amendment Act, 1888, deposited with this indictment, together with the particulars showing precisely by reference to pages, columns, and lines, in what part of the said book the alleged libel is to be found. To the manifest corruption of the morals and minds of the liege subjects of our said Lady the Queen, in contempt of our said Lady the Queen, and her laws, in violation of common decency, morality, and good order, and against the peace of our said Lady the Queen, her Crown and dignity.” Official Slander. A novel feature in this extraordinary case is the public denun­ ciation of the author of the incriminated book implied in Mr. Matthews’ speech and of the Editor of the University Magazine, Dr. R. de Villiers, who, besides writing a letter on the subject of the prosecution of the Home Secretary (vide page 14), is in no way whatever connected with its publication. If the Commissioner of Police responsible for the prosecution wanted an excuse for adopting the course they had elected to pursue, it is unintelligible why the occasion should be used to slander an author of world­ wide repute and the Editor of a respectable magazine who had dared to call their attention to the grave mistake made by this prosecution, and thereby actually suggested the course which the prosecution later on adopted to extricate itself from the entangle­ ment. We must believe Mr. Charles Matthews when he states that the accused approached the police, and that Bedborough’s own ver­ �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. 35 sion that the proposal of a compromise came from the prosecution is false, but the other statements made in Mr. Matthews’s speech are so devoid of truth, so palpably false that we must come to the conclusion that the solicitors who instructed this eminent counsel have been grossly deceived. The truth or falsehood of some of the statements could have been so easily ascertained that culpable negligence or wilful deception is the only explanation of the extra­ ordinary brief delivered to Mr. Matthews. As it is not to be sup­ posed that Messrs. Wontner and Sons are aware of the misstate­ ment of facts, we must come to the conclusion that these misrepre­ sentations emanate from Scotland Yard or from the same “Christian” who wrote the ominous letter to the booksellers (vide page 18). Mr. Matthews said that the police authorities had, in conse­ quence of Bedborough’s own statement, verified by them, come to the conclusion that he was not the principal offender, but a very subordinate sub-agent of Dr. R. de Villiers, the Editor of the University Magazine, against whom a warrant was issued to take the place of the repentant accused in the dock. Now this statement in view of easily ascertainable facts is not only false but absurd, as I will show further on, but I may first of all repudiate the counsel’s statement that the firm of which I am a member was ever called the Watford University Press. Such a firm does not exist, and one look at Dr. Havelock Ellis’s book would have given Mr. Matthews the information that it has been published by the University Press Limited, a concern registered as a limited liability company. Before the incorporation the busi­ ness was carried on by Mr. Wilson, Macmillan, and myself in partnership, and Dr. de Villiers was never at any time financially interested in this concern. His only connection with the Univer­ sity Press Limited was as the Editor of the University Magazine and Free Review, printed and published by the University Press. According to counsel’s statement the accused had informed the police that he was not responsible for the publication of any one of the three incriminated books. These were— 1. Dr. Havelock Ellis’s Studies in the Psychology of Sex. 2. The Outcome of Legitimation, by Oswald Dawson. 3. The Adult, January, 1898. Yet, although he was not responsible for these publications the �36 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. worthy knight pleaded guilty to these three counts only, and not guilty to the other eight counts which refer to publications which bore his name as editor and proprietor on the title page. That Mr. Bedborough was not the author of the first named book, that he was not the printer nor the publisher of the same was known to the police from the beginning, and the offence with which he was charged was, as Sir John Bridge pointed out, not the writing or printing or publishing of this book, but the indiscrimi­ nate sale of the same. Mr. Matthews ignored this altogether. The second publication, Oswald Dawson’s Outcome of Legitima­ tion, a pamphlet of 16 pages, was neither published nor printed by the University Press. It was the sole property of Mr. Bedborough. Dr. de Villiers probably has never seen this sheet. Its author was Oswald Dawson, the founder of the Legitimation League. The third count in the Indictment refers to a small book which was also written by Oswald Dawson, it was printed in Leeds as a New Tear’s Number of the Adult, a magazine owned and edited by George Bedborough. The University Press had nothing whatever to do with this publication, and I had never seen a copy of it until after the trial. A glance at these pamphlets would have convinced Mr. Matthews that Mr. Bedborough’s statement that he had sold the same as a sub-agent of the University Press was a deliberate falsehood. The same contain portraits of Mr. and Mrs. Bedborough and of Mr. Dawson, the principal officials of the Legitimation League, and on the title page bear the name of this League and of Oswald Dawson. The Recorder seemed reluctant to swallow counsel’s statement in regard to> Count No. 3, but he got over the difficulty somehow by expressing his astonishment that this publication contained the portraits of Mr. Bedborough’s wife and of the accused. No doubt he missed the portrait of Dr. de Villiers who was selected to serve as a scapegoat in the case. Analysis of Counsel’s Statements. According to his own statement Mr. Bedborough was the sub­ agent of the University Press. To prove the falsehood of this assertion I publish the facsimile of a bill of his, which relates to an advertisement in his magazine the Adult. �37 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND DDDODS. 16. John Street. Bedford Row. THE ADULT: The journal of Sex. r / J to *** T J / k - \'sA^/’ZiA4/ -= �38 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND EUDO DS. This bill needs no comment, it speaks for itself. The accused further asserted that he had sold only three copies of Dr. Havelock Ellis’s book. The following letter, which is in my possession, will destroy this illusion: — “ The Legitimation League, “ George Bedborough, Hon. Sec. “16, John Street, Bedford Row, “ May 17th, 1898. “Gentlemen,—Please send another 13/12 Sexual Inversion. I have sold the last 13/12 and will let you have a cheque in settlement of your account. These books have nearly all been sold to the trade. “Yours faithfully, “ George Bedborough.” “ The University Press Limited.” From this letter it will be seen that Bedborough did not act as the University Press’s agent, but as a customer of the firm, and the trade-term 13/12 shows that he had acquired the books on the usual condition. It is not usual in England for publishers to employ sub-agents or agents to sell books, and all the London booksellers carry on business on their own account not as publishers’ agents. Another communication received by the University Press from Mr. Bedborough on April 1st, 1898, will prove that lie never acted as the agent of this concern but as a customer: — “ The Adult, The Journal of Sex, “ Edited by George Bedborough. “ 16, John Street, Bedford Row, London, “March 31st, 1898. “Please send invoice by return and quote lowest for 250 and 500 respec­ tively additional copies April No. “ George Bedborough.” “ The University Press Limited.” Our books, however, prove that Bedborough never paid for the books which he bought from the University Press on credit, and thus even the statement that this concern obtained the profits of the sale effected by Mr. Bedborough, which was made with great flourish by Mr. Matthews, is absolutely false. Counsel in the clearest possible language asserted that the accused went to the police, and stated there, to exculpate himself, that Dr. de Villiers was the person who had the control of the �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. 39 University Press, and that Ke was the man who made the profit out of those things.” That this statement, if ever made by Mr. Bedborough, was on a level with the foregoing explanations can be proved from his own letters. That it was contrary to fact could have easily been ascer­ tained by the police. I acquired from Mr. John M. Robertson in 1895 the copyright of the Free Review, which magazine was in 1897 enlarged to the University Magazine. I was the sole proprietor of this periodical, and I have paid with my own cheques or with those of my wife the purchase money for the same, as also all expenses connected with the printing and publishing of this monthly magazine. As I am living the greater part of the year in Paris and New York Dr. de Villiers acted as the sub-editor of the Free Review, and in 1897 as the chief editor of the University Magazine. As stated before he had never anything to do with the financial part of this business. In 1896 and 1897 I erected printing works in Watford for the purpose of printing the University Magazine. The police could easily have ascertained that these works stand on the freehold ground belonging to my wife, and that every single item, machinery, type, paper, rates, and taxes, have been paid with my cheques or in my absence with my wife’s cheques. The police could also have found out that the payments for the printing of Dr. Havelock Ellis’s book were not made by Dr. de Villiers, but by me, until the business was registered at Somerset House as a limited liability company, when payments were made and received by the secretary of the company. In view of these facts which were accessible to the police it is an enigma why the Commissioners of Police decided to make the Editor of the University Magazine an exile and to banish him from our shores. There must be some secret reason if it is not the letter addressed by this gentleman to the Home Secretary which has offended the police authorities by exposing a serious blunder which they have made. The University Magazine and Free Review has severely dealt with some abuses and irregularities, and the suppression of this �40 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND EltllOllS. publication has been cleverly managed, but there was no need to slander its editor. If there is any honest desire on the part of the Commissioners of Police to arrive at the truth I am prepared to place at their disposal invoices, cheques, and documents proving that Dr. de Villiers had nothing whatever to do with the financial manage­ ment of the University Press from its foundation to this day. Dr. Havelock Ellis. The other party slandered in open court by Mr. Charles Matthews is the author of many important scientific works and the editor of the Contemporary Science Series (Walter Scott). He has stated his case in a pamphlet of which I give the fol­ lowing extracts. It is doubtful if the wrong done to him by Mr. Matthews can ever be made good, he had no locus standi to defend himself in view of Mr. Bedborough’s plea of guilty, and could appeal only to the sense of justice which yet is to be found in the majority of the medical profession and of all right minded men. Havelock Ellis says : — Although the police took no direct action against the author, publishers, and printers of the book, the effect of their action was calculated to be as fatal to the book as though they had proceeded directly against its producers. The incriminated passages, when read out in court, proved to be simple statements of fact, mostly from the early life of the cases of inversion recorded in the volume, and my responsibility for them merely lay in the fact that I judged them to contain, in bald uncoloured language, the minimum of definite physical fact required in such a book, if it is to possess any serious scientific value at all. AVhen, however, three months later, the indictment was finally issued, it appeared that the whole book, from the first page to the last, £ and every line in such pages,’ was charged as ‘ wicked, lewd, impure, scandalous, and obscene.’ It was solely on this ground, and not on any alleged impropriety in the method of sale, that the charge was founded. “I may here briefly state the general character of the book. �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND EKROBS. 41 It is the more necessary to do so since no undue publicity has been sought, and the book was so little known before these proceedings were taken, except to specialists, that the majority of my own friends had never heard of it until they saw it pro­ claimed as ‘ obscene ’ in the police news of every London newspaper. “Sexual Inversion is the first volume of a series of Studies in the Psychology of Sex, which I pro­ jected over twenty years back, and which I have ever since had before my mind, as the serious and vitally im­ portant subject to which the best energies of my life should be devoted. The work will extend to five or six volumes, and although this first volume discusses a form of perverted sexuality, the Studies as a whole will deal mainly with the normal sex impulse. It should be needless to point out the magnitude and the importance of the problems arising in such an investigation ; in this first volume, moreover, we are brought face to face with a practical question which is constantly demanding attention, both in society and the law courts. Whatever diffidence one may feel in approaching questions of this nature, there should be no doubt as to the necessity of so doing provided we approach them seriously. “How seriously I approached this great subject may be judged, not only from the long period of labour and prepara­ tion spent on the work, but from the fact that I occupied several years in the merely preliminary task of attempting to clear the ground by inquiring into the psychological and anthropo­ logical secondary sexual differences of the sexes, the main results of this special inquiry appearing in 1894 under the title of Man and Woman. Before its publication in England, Sexual Inversion had been translated into German by Dr. Kurella, a physician and criminal anthropologist of distin­ guished reputation, and published at Leipzig. In its final English shape it expresses my most mature convictions on the subject it treats; the opinion of judicious friends had been obtained at doubtful points, and every sentence carefully weighed. Errors of fact or opinion may possibly be found, but there is not a word which on moral grounds I feel any reason to regret or withdraw. Any question of retractation or �42 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND EDUOLS. apology could not, therefore, possibly arise; it would be a kind of intellectual suicide. “ It has been supposed by many who have never seen the book that I have attempted to popularise the study of sexual ques­ tions, and to make widely known the results obtained by other investigators. That is altogether a mistake. The book is founded on original data, and contains the first collection of cases of sexual inversion, unconnected with the prison or the asylum, which has ever been obtained in England; it is written in bald and technical language, published at a high price; and having been announced and sent for review only in special medical and scientific quarters, its existence was practically unknown to the general reader until these proceedings were initiated. There may well be, I know, a question as to the value of cloistered virtues, as to the worthiness of that inno­ cence which is merely ignorance and vanishes at a breath, as to the rights of every adult person to full knowledge of the sexual facts of life. But that question is not raised by my work. I appealed only to doctors, to psychologists, to those concerned with medico-legal matters, and to the handful of thinkers who are interested in the social bearings of the physical and psychic problems of life. By such my work has been accepted—so far as I know at present without exception —in the serious spirit in which it was put forward. Every alienist of distinction whose opinion I have obtained has assured me of his belief in the importance of the subject, and of his sense of the scientific tone and temper in which I have dealt with it. Every medical journal in half a dozen count­ ries which has reviewed the book has without exception judged it favourably, and not one has suggested that I have been guilty of the slightest impropriety. I may indeed say that the medical support I have received has often been rather on moral than on scientific grounds; it has repeatedly been remarked that an English tone of reticence distinguishes this book from the other works on the same subject by continental writers. The numerous letters of gratitude for the work, and strong support of its objects, which have reached me from thinkers and social reformers, men and women, I refrain from more than mentioning; they have sufficed to show me that �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. 43 the aim and nature of my task are appreciated by the small class of people whom, in addition to medical readers, I have alone sought to address. “The publisher and myself were duly represented by counsel, but having no standing in the case he was necessarily unable to speak. Thus although my book was the real sub­ ject of the trial there was no legal opportunity for any voice to be heard on its behalf. “Intelligent spectators of life have declared that this prose­ cution of a book-seller for selling a purely scientific work will th ark an epoch so far as our country is concerned. It has acted as a reductio ad absurdum, they say; it has quickened the public conscience to a finer sense of what is fitting in these matters. Henceforth public opinion will be strong enough to check at the outset any foolish interference of the police with scientific discussion. Just as a police charge of ‘ blasphemy,’ which twenty years ago was a real and serious charge, would to-day only arouse a smile, so, it is said, never again could a scientific book, issued and sold as this was, be dragged into the mire of the courts as ‘obscene,’ or a reputable citizen who sold such a book be haled before the magistrate on a charge of ‘ corrupting the morals ’ of his fellow subjects. “It may be so. I would gladly believe that any action of mine had assisted my countrymen to win that intellectual free­ dom which is already possessed by every other civilised country except Russia. But no one can give any guarantee that such will be the fact, and life is too short to enable me to wait another twenty years to verify the prophecy. “ It must be remembered that so far as an author is concerned the injury done by such a prosecution is done in the act of bringing' it. The manifold chances that befall a book on any highly specialised and technical subject, when submitted to a judge and jury, may or may not lead to the justi­ fication of the author. The injury is already done. The anxiety and uncertainty produced by so infamous a charge on a man and on those who belong to him, the risk of loss of friends, the pecuniary damages, the pro­ clamation to the world at large, which- has never known and will never know the grounds on which the accusation is made, �44 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. that an author is to be classed with the purveyors of literary garbage this power is put into the hands of any meddlesome member of that sad class against which the gods themselves are powerless. The mere expectation of such a prosecution is fatal. In sub­ mitting to these conditions an author puts his publisher and printer and their agents into an unmerited position of danger; he risks the distortion of his own work while it is in progress; and when he has written a book which is approved by the severest and most competent judges he is tempted to adapt it to the vulgar tastes of the policeman. How real the danger is to which an author, in submitting to these conditions of publication, subjects the distributors of his book, we have an object lesson in the present case. Here is a man who in his leisure time, edits and publishes a magazine with the object of discussing social questions of the gravest importance. Yet when such a man sells in an almost private manner a few copies of a book written by another man, with whose aims and objects he probably has little in common, the whole responsible machinery of social order is, at the public expense, set in action to crush him. Such is the risk to which an author subjects the mere distributors of his book. This is a risk to others, and a domination over myself, which I at all events have no intention of submitting to. In this country it is a sufficiently hard task for any student to deal with the problems of sex, even under the most favourable circumstances. He already, as it were, carries his life in his hands. He has entered a field which is largely given over to faddists and fanatics, to ill-regulated minds of every sort. He must, at the same time, be prepared to find that the would-be sagacity of imbeciles counts him the victim of any perversion he may investigate. Even from well-balanced and rational persons he must at first meet with a certain amount of distrust and opposition. To encounter this inevitable and legitimate opposition, and to preserve his serenity and equip ose, is itself a sufficient strain on any man. It would be foolish to place oneself as well beneath the censure of an ignorant and too zealous police offi­ cial, and to accept the chain of uncertain evils, and the certain �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. 45 public stigma, which a prosecution necessarily involves. “ Moreover, it must be noted, the police naturally desire that their intervention shall be successful, and it is their interest to prejudice matters by discrediting the object of their attack. This was ingeniously done in the present case by proceeding against a book-seller who was in no way connected with the production of the incriminated book, or in any way concerned with the scientific questions it discussed, but who was inti­ mately connected with a society and a magazine devoted to the open and popular propaganda of unconventional views on mar­ riage, matters with which I, on my side, had no connection. Thus in every newspaper a stain of prejudice is affixed to an author or a book, not to be wiped off by any subsequent ex­ planation, and for which no compensation can ever be obtained. “Under these circumstances, therefore, the difficulties of publishing the remaining volumes of my Studies in the Psychology of Sex in England are sufficiently obvious, and the decision I have been forced to reach seems inevitable. To wrestle in the public arena for freedom of speech is a noble task which may worthily be undertaken by any man who can devote to it the best energies of his life. It is not, however, a task which I have ever con­ templated. I am a student, and my path has long been marked out. I may be forced to pursue it under unfavourable condi­ tions, but I do not intend that any consideration shall induce me to swerve from it, nor do I intend to injure my work or distort my vision of life by entering upon any struggle. The pursuit of the martyr’s crown is not favourable to the critical and dispassionate investigation of complicated problems. A student of nature, of men, of books, may dispense with wealth or position; he cannot dispense with quietness and serenity. I insist on doing my own work in my own way, and cannot accept conditions which make this work virtually impossible. Certainly I regret that my own country should be almost alone in refusing to me the conditions of reasonable intellectual free­ dom. I regret it the more since I deal with the facts of English life, and prefer to address English people. But I must leave to others the task of obtaining the reasonable freedom that I am unable to attain.” �46 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. Dr. Havelock Ellis in consequence of this prosecution has re­ ceived numerous letters of sympathy from well known medical men who unanimously condemn the attack made by the police on a scientific work. Amongst these I may name—■ Dr. Conolly Norman, Medical Superintendent of the Richmond Asylum, Dublin; formerly President of the Medico-Psychological Association. Dr. G. H. Savage, F.R.C.P., Lecturer on Mental Diseases at Guy’s Hospital. Dr. Urquhart, President of the British Medico-Psychological Associa­ tion; Joint-editor of the Journal of Medical Science. Dr. Mercier, Lecturer on Insanity at the Westminster Hospital and at the Medical School for Women. Dr. Rayner, Lecturer on Psychological Medicine at St. Thomas’s Hospital. Dr. Goodall, Medical Superintendent of the Joint Counties Asylum, Carmarthen. Dr. Morel, Medical Inspector of Prisons in Belgium. Dr. Clouston, Medical Superintendent of the Royal Asylum at Morningside, Edinburgh, and Lecturer on Mental Diseases at the University of Edinburgh. Dr. C. H. Hughes, Editor of the Alienist and Neurologist, President of the Faculty of Barnes Medical College. Dr. Jas. Kiernan, Secretary of the Chicago Academy of Medicine. Dr. Fere, the illustrious physician of the Hospital Bicetre at Paris, writes: — Dear Sir, I have read your book on Sexual Inversion with interest and profit. In a recent work I have quoted it; I could not have thus aided in its publicity if I had not found it to be of scientific and not immoral character. Truth is always moral and good; in seeking truth science cannot be either immoral or bad. “ The book is scientific, and consequently good, and it would be a pity if those whose interest it is to know the book should be unable to pro­ cure it. It may, however, happen that a bookseller adopts bad methods to sell a good book, and I am not acquainted with the facts of the present prosecution so far as the bookseller is concerned.” [Translated.] Dr. Kurella, the well known Editor of the Centralblatt fur Nervenheilkunde, writes: — “ Honoured Colleague,—I read a few days ago in the Daily Chronicle that a book with the title of yours had given rise to a public prosecution. I wondered at the identity of title, but could not imagine that a purely scientific work like yours should be subjected to such treatment. For us on the Continent such a proceeding is altogether incompre­ hensible. What would become of science and of its practical applications �-f- JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. 47 if the pathology of the sexual life were put on the Index? It is as if Sir Spencer Wells were to be classed with Jack the Ripper. “ No doubt the judge (unless suffering from senile dementia) will accord you brilliant satisfaction. But in any case the whole of scientific psychology and medicine on the Continent is on your side. [Translated]. From all parts of tlie world similar letters were received, the indignation at the prosecution of a scientific treatise was almost universal. Mr. Clark Bell, LL.D., Editor of the Medico-Legal Jotirnal and Secretary to the Medico-Legal Society of New York, says: “ Dear Havelock Ellis,—I learn with mortification and regret that an attempt has been made to bring a charge of ‘ publishing an obscene libel ’ against a bookseller who sold your Sexual Inversion. The book is purely scientific and could have had no other possible intention than the completion of your admirable system of works, of which it forms an interesting and most necessary part. The group of works which you have contributed to psychological literature has, as a whole, greatly added to the lustre of your name, not alone in the Medico-legal Society but among the savants of the whole world, who will certainly sustain you by their sympathy, should any attempt be made to impugn your professional or literary honour by officers of the law who very possibly cannot be made to look at your conduct and motives properly.” The opinion of the Scientific and Medical Press is unanimous in praise of the scientific character of the book. “ A very good manual for general purposes of information on the subject, and likely to be of great service for the medical as well as legal professions.”—Medico-Legal Journal. “With regard to treatment we are glad to express entire concurrence with the opinions laid down.”—Journal of Mental Science. “A clear, logical, chaste analysis of the phenomena of sexual inver­ sion, of decided scientific value. It is free from the faults which mar so many otherwise valuable works on the subject. The present volume is the first of a series of studies on sex, important alike to the physician, the biologist, and the sociologist. The volume as a whole merits perusal by its judicial tone, its clear style, its freedom alike from prurient prudery and sentimental cant, and its scientific accuracy.”— Medicine. “ The work, no doubt, will be liberally received, and in many respects �48 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. deserves to be, for it is a careful analysis of the subject, replete with illustrative material, and, written in an attitude of scientific research, it avoids an assumption of moral superiority, so often productive of bias.”—New York Medical Journal. “ Our readers are already quite familiar with the ability of Dr. Ellis on the subject of sexual inversion through his able contributions to the Alienist and Neurologist. . . The book will interest and instruct all clinical psychiators and all physicians of extensive observation and practice. The medico-legal student, the lawyer, the psychologist and jurist will likewise find instruction in this work. It presents singular phases in the morbid sexual life of the genus homo. The book has a professional and social interest which cannot be ignored, and medico­ legal aspects as well as medical phases which demand professional and philanthropic attention from medical men, medico-legist and moralist alike.”—Alienist and Neurologist. “ The facts are new and presented in a somewhat new light. The medical, medico-legal, and social aspects are all duly considered in a scientific spirit, free from prudery or morbid sentimentality.”—New York Medical Decord. “Many books have been written on this subject during the last few years, perhaps too many, but the present work is clear and serious. We do not know how the extreme reserve of the English will adapt itself to the presentation of so delicate a subject in such clear light. But it was bound to come sooner or later, for it appears that sexual inversion is remarkably frequent in England.”—Revue Philosophique. (Tr.) Havelock Ellis’s excellent articles in the Alienist and Neurologist have caused his book to be awaited with some impatience. . . . Ellis’s book will aid the progress of sexual science.”—Archives dy Anthropologic Criminelle. (Tr.) “ The author, who has already acquired fame by his Man and Woman and Criminal . . has produced a work which is in the highest degree worthy to attract every psychologist and alienist. Its chief service lies less in the cases, which are comparatively few, than in its psychological depth, the historical and scientific grasp of a difficult subject, together with the clear and original presentation of the many problems involved*. Certainly no books which have yet appeared render this one superfluous; it may be said, rather, to complement them in the happiest manner, and may be most earnestly recommended. The author rightly points out in the Preface the gravity of the question of sexual inversion from the social standpoint.”—.Zeitschrift fur Psychiatrie. (Tr.) �APPENDIX. THE ENGLISH PRESS AND THE PROSECUTION. The Saturday Review comments on the prosecution as follows : — “ Saint Propriety. “ Th© recent prosecution of a publisher at Bow Street brings into prominence the attitude of legal England to publication of knowledge on one branch of human physiology and psychology. Every one knows vaguely that what is called mind and what is called body act and react on one another, and that disordered appetites are at once an index to and a result of the mutual play of disordered organic functions and dis­ ordered mental functions. With the history of these lamentable and progressive changes we have become familiar in the cases of inversions of the drink appetite and of the food appetite, because the law has not put its barbaric taboo on knowledge of the stomach or of the palate— even though the knowledge be published at a cheap price. With regard to a third set of inverted appetites, ignorance is almost universal, although from every medical, moral, and social point of view they are precisely parallel in their progressive history—arrested with ease only at the beginning—and in the mental and physical disintegration with which they are associated. A considerable body of knowledge relating to them, however, actually exists. Ploss, in Holland, one of the greatest anthropologists who1 have ever lived, gathered together from hospital and legal reports, from the customs of the oldest and of the most modern civilisations, from the savages of every colour and climate, a vast mass of information, much of which he embodied in his classical treatise, ‘ Das Weib.’ Charcot, one of the subtlest of French observers, has collected from his modern practice and published much of the greatest importance on this subject. KrafftxEbing, an Austrian physi­ cian of world-wide fame, has written a treatise on ‘ Psychopathia Sexualis,’ which describes and classifies the disorders of the sexual appe­ tites with the single-minded devotion of a systematic botanist, and his superb volume has been translated into' English and published by a well-known firm. Mr. Havelock Ellis, an Englishman thoroughly well known as the editor of a series the special object of which has been to popularise scientific knowledge drawn from all European sources, and himself the author of several luminous volumes simplifying the recon­ dite investigations of specialists on subjects remote from sex, has also written a volume on the subject-matter of Ploss and KraffLEbing and Charcot. His London publisher was in consequence prosecuted by the London police as the publisher of an ‘ obscene libel; ’ part of the public was insulted in Court for not, like the magistrate, anticipating the ( 49 ) D �50 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. decision of a jury; the ‘ prisoner ’ was committed for trial, and released only on most substantial bail, and after the magistrate risked turning the defending barrister into a witness for the prosecution. “ We have not the advantage of an exact knowledge of the particular book in question; moreover, as this individual case is still sub judice, we have no wish to pronounce the work fit for decent persons to read, even although Sir Jonn Bridge has paved the way for us by his dictum that it was unfit for decent women to hear read. We can assure that magistrate and his like that if this particular volume is at all similar to the works of the standard authorities upon sexual inversion it must abound in descriptions of facts at least as disgusting as the facts of delirium tremens. But we suspect that the objection to them is not that they are disgusting, but that they relate to the functions of sex. To our mind, and to the minds of most people who are not specialists in anatomy, details concerning the pulpy structure of the mass of fat and blood and protoplasm we call the brain, details of the humours and pigments of the eye, details of the coats and glands of the stomach—in fact, details of the gross matter that is our bodies—are all repellant. The brain is as disgusting as the muscles, the blood as horrible as the liver, and the nutritional viscera are no more pleasant than the viscera of reproduction. When we add to the study of structure the study of function, and to that the study of disordered function, the natural horror increases. None the less, who doubts the importance of a widely diffused general knowledge of human anatomy and physiology? We do not demand that knowledge should be confined to doctors, that the treatises containing it should be published only in the argot of science and at a price suited only to the pockets of the rich. If a man would spread knowledge of the stomach, he may do so' in any form of language, abstxjise or popular, which pleases him, and he may charge a guinea or a penny for his book. One exception is made by law and by ignorant opinion. “ Slow, slow, through the ages has been the progress of the battle for free knowledge against compulsory ignorance. In the old tradition, eating of the apple gave man a knowledge of good and evil; but the devil is an unfair bargainer, and it is only from century to century, fragment by fragment, that there has been wrung from him what was supposed to be the price of the fall of man. The great governing insti­ tutions, the princes of the Church and of the State, the law, the hierarchy of medicine, have all striven that man, although fallen, shall remain as ignorant as befor? the fall brought with it its tremendous compensation of choice. Greater minds in every age have fought, and, piece by piece, have added to the range of what may be made known without penalties. In the present century gigantic strides have been made, thanks to Darwin and Huxley, to Bradlaugh, and with him a set of petty martyrs, the very ridiculousness of whose protests illumined the principle behind them. We can now, without fear of prison and penalties, discuss the existence or the attributes of the Almighty, the sacraments of a Church or the conduct of its priests; we may discard revelation, attack the Scriptures, or exalt false gods. We may criticise �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND EllUORS. 51 the Queen or advocate a republic; we may push the limits of political controversy over the edge of abuse; we may publish anything, in any form, in science, in art, or in letters, quite irrespectively of the relation of our views or new facts to received views and accepted knowledge. All the taboos have been removed except the taboo on sex. Sex and its functions, orderly or disorderly, are removed to an underworld, where, in the blighting darkness, every foul fungoid growth flourishes, and where, in dense compulsory ignorance, good and evil are scarcely distinguishable. The mental side of it, in the silly distortions of epicene novelists, alone is allowed free publication. If a book dealing with sex is not a story, or a poem, or a treatise^ the language of which is nnintelligible to those without a special training, and the price of which is prohibitive, it is as dangerous to publish it as to break into a house. Meantime the evil results, to individuals and to the State, of ignorant confusion between vice and disease, between natural instincts and cor­ rupt passions, grows apace.” Mr. W. T. Stead, who is opposed to the University Magazine and Free Review in all its aspirations, political, social, and reli­ gious, writes in the Review of Reviews under the heading: — “THE POLICE AND THE PRESS. “ Scotland Yard Censorship. “ I have repeatedly been selected as the object of animadversion on the part of the University Magazine because of my dislike of the litera­ ture and doctrines under discussion. That renders it all the more neces­ sary for me to say that, so far as the facts have been stated to me, the action >of the police seems calculated to bring into the gravest discredit the cause in which they are supposed to be acting. Dr. Ellis’s book was not proposed to be sold for general circulation. Every copy sup­ plied to booksellers was labelled ‘ This book is a scientific work, intended for medical men, lawyers, and teachers It should not be placed in the hands of the general public.’ I have read the book, and no person who reads it with an impartial mind could come to the conclusion that it was published with the intention of corrupting the morals of Her Majesty’s Subjects. The author displi^s a painstaking desire to ascer­ tain the scientific truth concerning certain obscure problems which lie at the base of grave questions of criminal jurisprudence. “ It may be alleged that such problems should not be discussed, and that the whole question should be buried in impenetrable silence. The answer to this is that if the legislator makes one theory of the Psychology of Sex the basis for passing a law which sends citizens to penal servitude, it is impossible to shut out such a theory from public discussion. Dr. Ellis’s inquiry goes to the very root of the theory upon which one section of the Criminal Law Amendment Act is based, and �52 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND EllROUS. if the conclusions at which he arrives are sound the principle of that legislation is unsound, and will have to be modified, for the same reason that capital punishment is never enforced upon persons of dis­ ordered minds. This may be said quite apart from the general conten­ tion of the medical profession, which is that, if the sale of such a book as Dr. Ellis’s justifies the wholesale seizure of every book on the premises of any bookseller, the sale of medical works will be very much restricted, and no one will be able to sell any medical literature without running the risk of a criminal prosecution and the seizure of all his goods. The subject is an extremely unpleasant one. The problem involved is obscure, but the mischief accruing from the publicity occa­ sioned by the prosecution immensely outweighs whatever gain it might be imagined could accrue from a successful prosecution.. Scotland Yard has been entrusted by the community with very extended powers for the suppression of obscene literature, but nothing will do more to jeopardise this necessary, and as a whole wisely exercised, prerogative than the sudden extension of the police censorship to the realm of scien­ tific discussion.” From Reynolds's Newsp>aper:— “LIBERTY OF THE PRESS. “HOME OFFICE PROSECUTION. “THE NEW CENSORSHIP. “ By W. M. Thompson “(Barrister-at-Law.) “It is not for a moment to be supposed that the prosecution of Mr. George Bedborough, a bookseller, for selling a copy of Dr. Havelock Ellis’s book Sexual Inversion was instituted on the authority of the half-pay officers—unqualified for the task either by education, or in­ tellectual distinction—who, in subordination to the Home Office, direct affairs at Scotland Yard. The Metropolitan Police are a Government force. They would take no serious step without consulting their chief Sir M. White-Ridley, and he, again, in .a matter of such moment as the liberty of publication, must have consulted his colleagues in the Cabinet. Lord Salisbury, therefore, is responsible for this prosecution, although with characteristic cowardice he shrinks from including in the indict­ ment the writer of the book. “And the reason is obvious. Of Dr. Havelock Ellis’s distinction in the scientific world nothing need be said. It is well known he is in the first rank in his special department. As editor of the Walter Scott �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERROBS. 53 Contemporary Science Series (published at 3s. 6d. a volume), the nation owes him a deep debt of gratitude for bringing the results of the labours of our greatest men of thought and science home to the popular mind. Among that series we find such works as The Evolution of Sex, by Professor Patrick Geddes and J. Arthur Thomson; Sanity and Insanity, by Dr. C. Mercier; The Village Community in Britain, by G. L. Gomme; The Origin of the Aryans, by Dr. Isaac Taylor; and his own remarkable contribution to scientific criminology, The Criminal. Other contributors are Professor Geikie, Dr. Albert Moll (Berlin), Pro­ fessor Jastrow (Wisconsin), and Mr. Sidney Webb. It is so much easier to proceed against an obscure bookseller, than against a man of world­ wide reputation for learning and literary ability. “ But whatever may be the fate of Mr. Bedborough, the author of the book will be equally involved in it. We have here a repetition of the Government’s policy in the matter of Jameson’s filibustering expedi­ tion—the minor criminals were prosecuted, the chief offender, Rhodes, was allowed to escape. “I have not seen Dr. Ellis’s book, but I learn from the police court proceedings that it deals with the medical, mental, and physiological aspect of those increasingly growing sexual perversionsi to which the famous Jewish physician, Dr. Max Nordau, so> frequently refers in his remarkable work on Degeneration. An evil has to be met. Dr. Ellis scientifically analyses the evil with the view of clearing the way towards a solution. That is what I understand to be the position. It will be for the jury to decide whether this is the case or not, and, if so, whether it has been done in a manner allowed by law. “That a subject of this importance requires to be discussed in a decent, sober, scientific way no one can doubt who has read Professor Krafft-Ebing’s great work, Psycopathia Sexualis, which has been trans­ lated into every European language, and may be ordered from a firm of English medical booksellers through a medical man. The recent case of Oscar Wilde, the aristocratic scandals in Cleveland Street, the per­ versities and practices known to' exist in many boarding schools for girls, and, it may be said, in all the great public schools for boys, make this topic, repulsive as it is, a necessary branch of medical inquiry. The subject is not new; it is as old as the Old Testament—the story of Lot, to wit. What is new is the attempt to grapple with the evil on scientific grounds. Mayhew, the well-known writer, has left a record of his own * experiences: ‘For ourselves, we will frankly confess that at Westminster School, where we passed some seven years of our boyhood, such acts were daily perpetrated. And yet, if the scholars had been sent to the house of Correction, instead of Oxford or Cambridge, to com­ plete their education, the country would now have seen many of our playmates working among the convicts in the dockyards rather than lending dignity to the Senate or honour to the Bench.’ “The accused man in this case is Mr. George Bedborough, who edited the Adult, the monthly journal of the Legitimation League. With one of the objects of that organisation any man of generous and �54 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. humane mind can have nothing but sympathy and approval—the legiti­ mation of children born before the parents have entered into a legal contract. This is the present law in Scotland. It was the law of ancient Rome and has been adopted by many modem nations. No marriage rite, contract, or ceremony is prescribed in the Scriptures. There, indeed, polygamy seems to have been God-sanctioned, and in Genesis xx., 12, we find that Abraham’s wife Sarah was his step-sister! And yet, indeed, she is my sister; she is the daughter of my father, but not of my mother; and she became my wife.’ The Law. That eminent criminal Judge, the late Justice Stephen, at page 105 of his Digest of the Criminal Law, submits that a person is justi­ fied in publishing obscene books, papers, prints, etc., if their publication is necessary or advantageous to the pursuit of science, literature, or art, or other objects of general interest. ‘ A man,’ he says, ‘ might with perfect decency of expression, and in complete good faith, maintain doc­ trines as to marriage, the relation of the sexes, etc., which would be regarded as highly immoral by most people, and yet (I think) commit no crime.’ The great jurist Bentham, in his Principles of Morals and Legisla­ tion, published by Macmillan, deprecates dealing with these offences, which he styles self-regarding, on the following, among other grounds:— (1) In individual instances it will often be questionable whether they are productive of any private mischief at all (because the person, who in general is most likely to be sensible to the mischief, if there is any—namely, the person whom it most affects, shows by his conduct that he is not sensible of it); secondary, they produce none. “ (2) They affect not any other individuals, unless by possibility in particular cases, and in a very slight and distant manner the whole state. “ (3) They admit not, therefore, of compensation nor of retalia­ tion. (4) No person has naturally any peculiar interest to prosecute them; except in as far as in virtue of some connection he may have with the offender. “ (5) The mischief they produce is apt to be inobvious, and in general more questionable than that of any of the other classes. (5) They are however apt, many of them, to be more obnoxious to the censure of the world than public offences, owing to the influence of two false principles—the principle of asceticism, and the principle of antipathy. (6) Among the inducements to punish them, antipathy against the offender is apt to have a greater share than sympathy for the public.” �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. 55 From the Sketch, November 2nd, 1898 : — “IS HE AN OBSCENE WRITER? “Is Dr. Havelock Ellis an obscene writer? That is the question which must be decided by a British jury at the Old Bailey during tho present Sessions. That is to say, the tinker, the tailor, the candlestick­ maker most worthy citizens, no doubt—will sit in judgment upon a scientific work which has been welcomed and commended by scientists in France, Germany, and America, as well as by the English medical journals. Dr. Havelock Ellis has made it his life-study to trace the effects of heredity and habits upon crime and insanity, and his book, 2 he Criminal, if properly studied and understood, would revolutionise our present system of endeavouring to repress crime instead of curing it. In addition to his services in seeking to point out the causes which tend to overcrowd the lunatic asylums and, to a large extent, the prisons, Dr. Havelock Ellis has attained an important position in English litera­ ture, and has at various times collaborated with Mr. Swinburne, Mr. Gosse, Mr. Arthur Symons, Mr. Ernest Rhys, and others. He is also the editor of the well-known ‘ Contemporary Science Series,’ and is a regular contributor to medico-legal journals in the Old and New Worlds. He has been made an honorary member of the Chicago Academy of Medicine, and was elected Vice-President of the International MedicoLegal Congress of 1895. Rather more than a year ago, Dr. Ellis published the first volume of his Studies in the Psychology of Sex, in which work he had the able assistance of Mr. John Addington Symonds. This book was the natural continuation and extension of his previous works, and was openly adver­ tised and as openly sold by the leading booksellers at a price which placed it out of the reach of the ordinary seeker after prurient litera­ ture. In May last, however, the Scotland Yard authorities determined to stop the sale of the book, and, armed with the necessary warrants, pounced upon an obscure bookseller named George Bedborough, instead of indicting the principal offenders (?)—the author, the publishers, and the printers, as is usually done in such cases. When the charge came before Sir John Bridge at Bow Street Police Court, Dr. Havelock Ellis was present, and through his solicitor stated that he was quite pre­ pared to accept all the responsibilities of authorship of the incriminated book, but that offer was not accepted. For months, therefore, a charge, the like of which would be altogether impossible in any other civilised country, has been hanging over the head of Mr. Bedborough, who has, however, been supported by an influential Free Press Defence Com­ mittee, which numbers among its members the following ladies and gentlemen: —Mr. Grant Allen, Mr. Robert Buchanan, Mr. Herbert Burrows, Mrs. Mona Caird, Mr. Edward Carpenter, Mr. Walter Crane, Dr. Helen Densmore, Mr. A. E. Fletcher, Mr. Frank Harris, Miss Amy C. Morant, Mr. George Moore, Mr. William Platt, Mr. J. M. Robertson, Mr. Henry S. Salt, Mr. William Sharp, Mr. George Bernard Shaw, Mr. W. M. Thompson, and Dr. T. M. Watt. This Committee has provided legal assistance, and has arranged for Mr. Horace Avory to �56 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND EURO RS. undertake the defence. Application was made for a writ of certiorari, in order that the case might be removed to the Court of Queen’s. Bench, where it would have been tried before a special jury; but this applica­ tion was not successful, and the question, which is one bristling with difficult technicalities, will be fought out before a Common Jury, which is perhaps one of the most incompetent tribunals for such issues. The opinion of Mr. Robert Buchanan with reference to the prosecution is worth quoting. He says that ‘ to insult a man of science and to punish the unfortunate publisher for carrying out what is, in point of fact, a noble bit of work, done in the interests of suffering humanity, is more worthy of savages than of sane men living in the nineteenth century.’ ” From the Lancet, November 18th, 1898 :—• “ The result of this trial places the person or persons to whom in the Recorder’s opinion greater blame should be attached in a very awkward position. There is, for example, the author of the book. The trial closes his mouth and prevents him from making any defence other than the unsatisfactory method of writing to the newspapers or publishing an Apologia, and Mr. Havelock Ellis, the writer in question, would seem to be obviously indicated in the Recorder’s speech. His book is the first of a series of studies in the psychology of sex and deals with a phase of the question which we must all admit to’ exist—namely, sexual inver­ sion. It is allowed that this subject touches the very lowest depths to which humanity has fallen. But for all that it is a subject which cannot be ignored and one which is not made any less powerful for ill by the pretence that there is no such thing. But while we admit that the sub­ ject of sexual inversion has its proper claims for discussion we are very clear as to the propriety of limiting that discussion to persons of par­ ticular attainments.” • •• •• •*•• “What constitutes indecent literature? Is a book indecent because it deals with an indecent subject? Surely there is no reasonable person who will say ‘Yes.’ A book written solely in a spirit of scientific inquiry into a subject which, though odious in itself, has yet to be faced cannot possibly be included under the head of indecent literature. But such a book may become indecent if offered for sale to the general public with a wrong motive. Bedborough was, we suppose, held by the Recorder to be guiltless of wrong motive or he would have been punished. But why this wrong motive should be imputed to the author we cannot guess; while if no such imputation was intended the reference to the more guilty persons who went scot free is meaningless. Mr. Havelock Ellis seems to us to have been badly treated in the matter and unfor­ tunate in his publisher, for Bedborough, it must be remembered, pleaded guilty to the issue of two other indecent works with which the author of ‘ Sexual Inversion ’ had no connection whatever. The moral of the story for scientific writers, who must often publish what would be obscene if appearing in doubtful channels or confided to dirty hands, is obvious. It is—be careful of the publisher.” �JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. 57 From the British Medical Journal: — “ It is a little difficult to comment upon this case, because all the facts have not been brought out in evidence. Mr. Havelock Ellis, who is the author of the work mentioned in the police-court proceedings, is a member of the medical profession, and we have examined his book. It treats of a subject which is to most persons extremely disagreeable, but, so far as we have been able to judge, we cannot agree with the Recorder that the subject has not been dealt with in a scientific manner. Further, so far as we are aware, it is true that no attempt has been made to advertise the book in any general way or to expose it for sale otherwise than in a technical sense. There is certainly nothing about the book itself, either in its appearance or in the manner in which the subject is treated to pander to the prurient mind, although the subject of the book is of course one which would lend itself tO' such treatment. The subject, as we have said, is extremely disagreeable, but is one of those unpleasant matters with which members of the medical profes­ sion should have some acquaintance. From correspondence submitted to us in print by Mr. Havelock Ellis, it would appear that the scientific character of the work in question is recognised by many eminent alienist physicians in this country. Dr. Conolly Norman sums up the true view with regard to a work of this kind in the following passage of a letter which we are informed he has addressed to the author: — “ ‘ In its relation to insanity, to degeneration, and to the neurotic state, the subject of sexual inversion has much medical interest; in its relation to crime it has much medico-legal interest. It is, therefore, a matter which must be discussed and written about.’ ” Edward Carpenter, in the Saturday Review, November Sth, 1898: — “That Mr. Havelock Ellis, by the outcome of the Bedborough case, should be left with a slur upon his name and book is a gross scandal. “There is hardly a woman, especially among the well-to-do classes, who could not tell an indignant tale of grief and wrong arising to her in her earlier days from the non-discussion of sexual problems. Some ladies (all honour to them!), who were present in the hearing of the Bodhorough case at Bow Street, were as good as insulted by the magis­ trate because they refused to leave the Court. Yet who more fit to understand and consider these difficult problems than the mothers or future mothers of our children? But perhaps the motive for their presence did not dawn upon the magisterial mind. “ Our schools, as is well known, are full of phenomena connected with sexual inversion. The boys are corrupted and lose their purity of mind at an early age; parents are ignorant of what goes on; masters are in despair; every one is silent; a grim hush reigns; evils are hinted at, but no one offers any help. But why, in the name of all that is sane, such conduct? “ Surely a book dealing decently, straightforwardly, and scientifically with this subject is as much wanted as anything in England to-day. Mr. �58 JUDICIAL SCANDALS AND ERRORS. Havelock Ellis has written such a book. Every schoolmaster in the country ought to be made to pass an examination in it. It should be in the hands of any parent who cares to understand the character, the needs, the temptations of his child; or, indeed, of any judge who wants to act justly; for, as Mr. Stead has pointed out, the fact that a por­ tion of our criminal law is founded upon certain theories of sexual psychology makes the discussion of those theories imperative. Instead of that the book is proscribed and written down ‘ obscene ’ by the offi­ cial Bumble. Could the force of folly further go ? “That such a book may occasionally get into what is called ‘the wrong hands ’ may be allowed; but by no process of argument can this be construed into a reason against its publication, since it would equally apply to any special medical work. It only forms a reason for attack by that party which, ostrich-like, can see no other way of meeting a difficulty than by refusing to look at it.” From the Critic, November 12th, 1898: — “THAT BLESSED WORD ‘MORALITY.’ “Anything more fiendishly unfair to a man of science than the slur cast, by the mysterious conclusion of the Bedborough trial, upon the author of Sexual Inversion it would be impossible to conceive. I am not concerned to defend Dr. Ellis. He is himself more than capable of that task; and he was, and is, fully prepared to dispose of any un­ savoury suggestion arising from the prosecution of one amongst several sellers of his book. The terms of surrender accepted by Bedborough do little credit to his courage, if they do not touch his honour. Were that not an impossible conception, one might reasonably suspect collusion between prisoner and police; and the Free Press Defence Committee, so completely befooled by Bedborough, will do well to clear the inner mystery of this questionable business—if they can. Its relation to the Adult, from which publication Bedborough has consented to remove his name, despite the unjust inferences to which this course may easily lead, is—in degree at least—different to its bearing on Dr. Ellis’s volume. One may fairly doubt the wisdom of Mr. Seymour’s publica­ tion—with its ‘ free discussion ’ of certain delicate questions—being sold broadcast to the first buyer, and yet protest against police prejudice being created against a purely scientific work, of permanent value to medical men and students, “ It is to be hoped that, if the Recorder’s remark that ‘ this sort of thing will not be tolerated in this country’ was meant to affect Dr. Ellis’s work, the right of publication will be brought to speedy trial. Who, may we ask, is ‘ the really responsible person who received all the profits from the sale; ’ and whom the police have promised to prose­ cute ? The Defence Committee should see that this warrant is executed as promptly as may be. The police have gone so far with this matter that they must now see it through, if publicity can force to a fair and definite test the question of freedom to publish. It is a subject of intense interest to every journalist, litterateur, scientist, publisher, and bookseller, not to mention the average studious reader.” �The University Press, Limited. BOUND VOLUMES OF THE “FREE REVIEW,” AND "UNIVERSITY MAGAZINE i FREE REVIEW." A few copies of Vol. I.-VII. of the Free Review as well as of Vol. VIII.-IX. of the University Magazine and Free Review can be supplied to subscribers at the following prices : — Vol. 1................................................................. 6s. 6d. Vol. II............................................................... 6s. 6d. Vol. Ill............................................................. 6s. 6d. 6d. Vol. IV. ... ..................................... 6s. Vol. V................................................................7s. 6d. Vol. VI.............................................................. 7s. 6d. Vol. VII............................................................ 7s. 6d. 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Title A name given to the resource Victorian Blogging Description An account of the resource A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library &amp; Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span> Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Conway Hall Library & Archives Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2018 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Conway Hall Ethical Society Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Pamphlet Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Judicial scandals and errors. I. Press censorship and compromise Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Singer, George Astor Description An account of the resource Place of publication: London Collation: iv, 7-58 p. : ill. (fac.) ; 25 cm. Notes: Front cover printed in red and black. Singer is the pseudonym of George Ferdinand Springmuhl von Weissenfeld. Concerns the trial of George Bedborough, publisher of Havelock Ellis' Studies in the psychology of sex. Part of the NSS pamphlet collection. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available University Press Limited Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1899 Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context N705 Subject The topic of the resource Freedom of the press Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a href="http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /></a><span> </span><br /><span>This work (Judicial scandals and errors. I. Press censorship and compromise), identified by </span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk"><span>Humanist Library and Archives</span></a><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span> Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource application/pdf Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Language A language of the resource English Freedom of the Press Havelock Ellis NSS Obscenity Obscenity (Law)-England https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/25778/archive/files/82438be37458e492f1072edbb1d7a306.pdf?Expires=1779321600&Signature=ZfNpSpZHwHCZpFZW1ugzIfidgvgyOFNljRjtCotBp0%7ECYWAZ0Eu4afKt%7EzgX-mYDbur50AL4UBsouuYFlYuC3m55jFv2dXa9WIEp57wd6t3Wwlfe%7EruNYIXkiBQPG6NTZc5rPa0XIePUiP9lqFPxoOQHO0KoI3SswLyEHoHfaqORmw0ZjRxgYTF5cgcpDnvHsThcbJuoaKnaWkjY1SiK0CPd4wOzV%7ExAwyGLqLoEekDeF58JJLgwEY6rlW53Sf4PtiaXCkGQ8TrfRWSCpX1BsHoAjVGOdq39wr0stzbGAON%7EZhBKMUJkjVzs0TOM8TsFtvHNylsflHpNXaLPhSjuFw__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM 379ec7de8336a874defe9a6e4923fe6a PDF Text Text If the Devil should die, voould God make another ? ■ H. > : fh • A LECTURE y BY ROBERT 0. INGERSOLL. 1 ’I' London : ' F R. FORDER, 28 STONECUTTER-STREET, E.C. Price Sixpence. �, i.-K �mis THE DEVIL. If the Devil should die, would God make another? A LECTURE BY ROBERT G. INGERSOLL. London : R. FORDER, 28 STONECUTTER-STREET, E.C. 1899. ��„TOOSWinoaSTVHOUVN THE DEVIL. I. IF THE DEVIL SHOULD DIE, WOULD GOD MAKE ANOTHER ? A little while ago I delivered a lecture on “ Super­ stition,” in which, among other things, I said that the Christian world could not deny the existence of the Devil ; that the Devil was really the keystone of the arch, and that to take him away was to destroy the entire system. A great many clergymen answered or criticised this statement. Some of these ministers avowed their belief in the existence of his Satanic Majesty, while others actually denied his existence ; but some, without stating their own position, said that others believed, not in the existence of a personal devil, but in the personification of evil, and that all references to the Devil in the Scrip­ tures could be explained on the hypothesis that the Devil thus alluded to was simply a personification of evil. When I read these answers I thought of this line from Heine : “ Christ rode on an ass, but now asses ride on Christ.” �4 THE DEVIL. Now, the questions are, first, whether the Devil does really exist; second, whether the sacred Scriptures teach the existence of the Devil and of unclean spirits ; and, third, whether this belief in devils is a necessary part of what is known as “ orthodox Christianity.” Now, where did the idea that a Devil exists come from ? How was it produced ? Fear is an artist—a sculptor—a painter. All tribes and nations, having suffered, having been the sport and prey of natural phenomena, having been struck by light­ ning, poisoned by weeds, overwhelmed by volcanoes, destroyed by earthquakes, believed in the existence of a Devil, who was the king—the ruler—of innumerable smaller devils, and all these devils have been from time immemorial regarded as the enemies of men. Along the banks of the Ganges wandered the Asuras, the most powerful of evil spirits. Their business was to war against the Devas—that is to say, the gods—and at the same time against human beings. There, too, were the ogres, the Jakshas, and many others who killed and devoured human beings. The Persians turned this around, and with them the Asuras were good and the Devas bad. Ormuzd was the good (the god), Ahriman the evil (the devil), and between the god and the devil was waged a perpetual war. Some of the Persians thought that the evil would finally triumph, but others insisted that the good would be the victor. In Egypt the devil was Set—or, as usually called, Typhon—and the good god was Osiris. Set and his legions fought against Osiris and against the human race. �THE DEVIL. 5 Among the Greeks the Titans were the enemies of the gods. Ate was the spirit that tempted, and such was her power that at one time she tempted and misled the god of gods, even Zeus himself. These ideas about gods and devils often changed, because in the days of Socrates a demon was not a devil, but a guardian angel. We obtain our Devil from the Jews, and they got him from Babylon. The Jews cultivated the science of Demonology, and at one time it was believed that there were nine kinds of demons : Beelzebub, prince of the false gods of the other nations ; the Pythian Apollo, prince of liars ; Belial, prince of mischief-makers ; Asmodeus, prince of revengeful devils; Satan, prince of witches and magicians ; Meresin, prince of aerial devils, who caused thunderstorms and plagues ; Abaddon, who caused wars, tumults, and combustions ; Diabolus, who drives to despair; and Mammon, prince of the tempters. It was believed that demons and sorcerers frequently came together and held what were called “Sabbats”; that is to say, orgies. It was also known that sorcerers and witches had marks on their bodies that had been imprinted by the Devil. Of course these devils were all made by the people, and in these devils we find the prejudices of their makers. The Europeans always represent their devils as black, while the Africans believed that theirs were white. So it was believed that people by the aid of the Devil could assume any shape that they wished. Witches and wizards were changed into wolves, dogs, cats, and serpents. This change to animal form was exceedingly common. �6 THE DEVIL. Within two years, between 1598 and 1600, in one district of France, the district of Jura, more than six hundred men and women were tried and convicted before one judge of having changed themselves into wolves, and all were put to death. This is only one instance. There are thousands. There is no time to give the history of this belief in devils. It has been universal. The consequences have been terrible beyond the imagination. Millions and millions of men, women, and children, of fathers and mothers, have been sacrificed upon the altar of this ignorant and idiotic belief. Of course, the Christians of to-day do not believe that the devils of the Hindus, Egyptians, Persians, or Baby­ lonians existed. They think that those nations created their own devils, precisely the same as they did their own gods. But the Christians of to-day admit that for many centuries Christians did believe in the existence of countless devils; that the Fathers of the Church believed as sincerely in the Devil and his demons as in God and his angels ; that they were just as sure about hell as heaven. I admit that people did the best they could to accoun for what they saw, for what they experienced. I admit that the devils as well as the gods were naturally pro­ duced—the effect of nature upon the human brain. The cause of phenomena filled our ancestors not only with wonder, but with terror. The miraculous, the super­ natural, was not only believed in, but was always expected. A man walking in the woods at night—just a glim­ mering of the moon—everything uncertain and shadowy �THE DEVIL. —sees a monstrous .form. One arm is raised. 7 His blood grows cold, his hair lifts. In the gloom he sees the eyes of an ogre—eyes that flame with malice. He feels that the something is approaching. He turns, and with a cry of horror takes to his heels. He is afraid to look back. Spent, out of breath, shaking with fear, he reaches his hut and falls at the door. When he regains consciousness, he tells his story, and, of course, the children believe. When they become men and women they tell father’s story of having seen the Devil to their children, and so the children and grandchildren not only believe, but think they know, that their father their grandfather—actually saw a devil. An old woman sitting by the fire at night a storm raging without—hears the mournful sough of the wind. To her it becomes a voice. Her imagination is touched, and the voice seems to utter words. Out of these words she constructs a message or a warning from the unseen world. If the words are good, she has heard an angel, if they are threatening and malicious, she has heard a devil. She tells this to her children, and they believe. They say that mother’s religion is good enough for them. A girl suffering from hysteria falls into a trance —has visions of the infernal world. The priest sprinkles holy water on her pallid face, saying : “ She hath a devil.” A man utters a terrible cry; falls to the ground; foam and blood issue from his mouth ; his limbs are convulsed. The spectators say : “ This is the Devil s work.” Through all the ages people have mistaken dreams and visions of fear for realities. To them the insane were inspired; epileptics were possessed by devils ; �8 THE DEVIL. apoplexy was the work of an unclean spirit. For many centuries people believed that they had actually seen the malicious phantoms of the night, and so thorough was this belief—so vivid—that they made pictures of them. They knew how they looked. They drew and chiselled their hoofs, their horns—all their malicious deformities. Now, I admit that all these monsters were naturally produced. The people believed that hell was their native land ; that the Devil was a king, and that he and his imps waged war against the children of men. Curiously enough, some of these devils were made out of degraded gods, and, naturally enough, many devils were made out of the gods of other nations. So that, frequently, the gods of one people were the devils of another. In nature these are opposing forces. Some of the forces work for what man calls good ; some for what he calls evil. Back of these forces our ancestors put will, intelligence, and design. They could not believe that the good and evil came from the same being. So back of the good they put God ; back of the evil, the Devil. �II. THE ATLAS OF CHRISTIANITY IS THE DEVIL. The religion known as “Christianity” was invented by God himself to repair in part the wreck and ruin that had resulted from the Devil’s work. Take the Devil from the scheme of salvation—from the atonement—from the dogma of eternal pain—and the foundation is gone. The Devil is the keystone of the arch. He inflicted the wounds that Christ came to heal. He corrupted the human race. The question now is : Does the Old Testament teach the existence of the Devil ? If the Old Testament teaches anything, it does teach the existence of the Devil, of Satan, of the Serpent, ot the enemy of God and man, the deceiver of men and women. Those who believe the Scriptures are compelled to say that this Devil was created by God, and that God knew when he created him just what he would do, the exact measure of his success ; knew that he would be a successful rival ; knew that he would deceive and corrupt the children of men ; knew that, by reason of this Devil, countless millions of human beings would suffer eternal torment in the prison of pain. And this God also knew, when he created the Devil, that he, �IO THE DEVIL. God, would be compelled to leave his throne, to be born a babe in Palestine, and to suffer a cruel death. All this he knew when he created the Devil. Why did he create him ? It is no answer to say that this Devil was once an angel of light and fell from his high estate because he was free. God knew what he would do with his freedom when he made him and gave him liberty of action, and, as a matter of fact, must have made him with the inten­ tion that he should rebel; that he should fall; that he should become a devil; that he should tempt and corrupt the father and mother of the human race; that he should make hell a necessity, and that, in consequence of his creation, countless millions of the children of men would suffer eternal pain. Why did he create him ? Admit that God is infinitely wise. Has he ingenuity enough to frame an excuse for the creation of the Devil ? Does the Old Testament teach the existence of a real, living Devil ? The first account of this being is found in Genesis, and in that account he is called the “Serpent.” He is declared to have been more subtle than any beast of the field. According to the account, this Serpent had a conversation with Eve, the first woman. We are not told in what language they conversed, or how they understood each other, as this was the first time they had met. Where did Eve get her language ? Where did the Serpent get his ? Of course, such questions are impudent, but, at the same time, they are natural. The result of this conversation was that Eve ate the forbidden fruit and induced Adam to do the same. This �THE DEVIL. ir is what is called the “ Fall,” and for this they were expelled from the Garden of Eden. On account of this, God cursed the earth with weeds and thorns and brambles, cursed man with toil, made woman a slave, and cursed maternity with pain and sorrow. How men, good men, can worship this God ; how women, good women, can love this Jehovah, is beyond my imagination. In addition to the other curses the Serpent was cursed —-condemned to crawl on his belly and to eat dust. We do not know by what means, before that time, he moved from place to place, whether he walked or flew ; neither do we know on what food he lived ; all we know is that after that time he crawled and lived on dust. Jehovah told him that this he should do all the days of his life. It would seem from this that the Serpent was not at that time immortal ; that there was somewhere in the future a milepost at which the life of this Serpent stopped. Whether he is living yet or not, I am not certain. It will not do to say that this is allegory, or a poem, because this proves too much. If the Serpent did not in fact exist, how do we know that Adam and Eve existed? Is all that is said about God allegory and poetic, or mythical ? Is the whole account, after all, an ignorant dream ? Neither will it do to say that the Devil—the Serpent —-was a personification of evil. Do personifications of evil talk ? Can a personification of evil crawl on its belly? Can a personification of evil eat dust? If we say that the Devil was a personification of evil, are we �12 THE DEVIL. not at the same time compelled to say that Jehovah was a personification of good ; that the Garden of Eden was the personification of a place, and that the whole story is a personification of something that did not happen ? Maybe that Adam and Eve were not driven out of the Garden ; they may have suffered only the personifica­ tion of exile. And maybe the cherubim placed at the gate of Eden, with flaming swords, were only personi­ fications of policemen. There is no escape. If the Old Testament is true, the Devil does exist, and it is impossible to explain him away without at the same time explaining God away. So there are many references to devils, and spirits of divination and of evil, which I have not the time to call attention to ; but, in the Book of Job, Satan, the Devil, has a conversation with God. It is this Devil that brings the sorrows and losses on the upright man. It is this Devil that raises the storm that wrecks the homes of Job’s children. It is this Devil that kills the children of Job. Take this Devil from that book, and all mean­ ing, plot, and purpose fade away. Is it possible to say that the Devil in Job was only a personification of evil ? In Chronicles we are told that Satan provoked David to number Israel. For this act of David, caused by the Devil, God did not smite the Devil, did not punish David, but he killed 70,000 poor innocent Jews, who had done nothing but stand up and be counted. Was this Devil who tempted David a personifica­ tion of evil, or was Jehovah a personification of the devilish ? In Zachariah we are told that Joshua stood before the �THE DEVIL. 13 angel of the Lord, and that Satan stood at his right hand to resist him, and that the Lord rebuked Satan. If words convey any meaning, the Old Testament teaches the existence of the Devil. All the passages about witches and those having familiar spirits were born of a belief in the Devil. When a man who loved Jehovah wanted revenge on his enemy, he fell on his holy knees, and from a heart full of religion he cried : “ Let Satan stand at his right hand.” �III. TAKE THE DEVIL FROM THE DRAMA OF CHRISTIANITY AND THE PLOT IS GONE. The next question is : Does the New Testament teach the existence of the Devil ? As a matter of fact, the New Testament is far more explicit than the Old. The Jews, believing that Jehovah was God, had very little business for a devil. Jehovah was wicked enough and malicious enough to take the Devil’s place. The first reference in the New Testament to the Devil is in the fourth chapter of Matthew. We are told that Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the Devil. It seems that he was not led by the Devil into the wilderness, but by the Spirit ; that the Spirit and the Devil were acting together in a kind of pious con­ spiracy. In the wilderness Jesus fasted forty days, and then the Devil asked him to turn stones into bread. The Devil also took him to Jerusalem and set him on a pinnacle of the temple, and tried to induce him to leap to the earth. The Devil also took him to the top of a mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world, ,and offered them all to him in exchange for his worship. �THE DEVIL. i5 Jesus refused. The Devil went away, and angels came and ministered to Christ. Now, the question is : Did the author of this account believe in the existence of the Devil, or did he regard this Devil as a personification of evil, and did he intend that his account should be understood as an allegory, or as a poem, or as a myth ? Was Jesus tempted ? If he was tempted, who tempted him? Did anybody offer him the kingdoms of the world ? Did the writer of the account try to convey to the reader the thought that Christ was tempted by the Devil ? If Christ was not tempted by the Devil, then the temptation was born in his own heart. If that be true, can it be said that he was divine ? If these adders, these vipers, were coiled in his bosom, was he the son of God? Was he pure ? In the same chapter we are told that Christ healed “ those which were possessed of devils, and those which were lunatic, and those that had the palsy.” From this it is evident that a distinction was made between those possessed with devils and those whose minds were affected and those who were afflicted with diseases. We are told that at the same time, a good way off, many swine were feeding, and that the devils besought Christ, saying: “ If thou cast us out, suffer us to go away into the herd of swine.” And he said unto them : “ Go.” Is it possible that personifications of evil would desire to enter the bodies of swine, and is it possible that it �i6 THE DEVIL. was necessary for them to have the consent of Christ before they could enter the swine? The question naturally arises : How did they enter into the body of the man ? Did they do that without Christ’s consent, and is it a fact that Christ protects swine and neglects human beings ? Can personifications have desires ? In the ninth chapter of Matthew there was a dumb man brought to Jesus, possessed.with a devil. Jesus cast out the devil, and the dumb man spake. Did a personification of evil prevent the dumb man from talking ? Did it in some way paralyze his organs of speech ? Could it have done this had it only been a personification of evil ? In the tenth chapter Jesus gives his twelve disciples power to cast out unclean spirits. What were unclean spirits supposed to be ? Did they really exist ? Were they shadows, impersonations, allegories? When Jesus sent his disciples forth on the great mission to convert the world, among other things he told them to heal the sick, to raise the dead, and to cast out devils. Here a distinction is made between the sick and those who were possessed by evil spirits. Now, what did Christ mean by devils? In the twelfth chapter we are told of a very remark­ able case. There was brought unto Jesus one possessed with a devil, blind and dumb, and Jesus healed him. The blind and dumb both spake and saw. There­ upon the Pharisees said : “ This fellow doth not cast out devils^ but by Beelzebub the prince of the devils.” Jesus answered by saying : “ Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation. If Satan cast out Satan, he is divided against himself.” �THE DEVIL. 17 Why did not Christ tell the Pharisees that he did not cast out devils—only personifications of evil ; and that with these personifications Beelzebub had nothing to do ? Another question : Did the Pharisees believe in the existence of devils, or had they the personification idea ? At the same time Christ said : “ If I cast out devils by the Spirit of God, then the kingdom of God is come unto you.” If he meant anything by these words, he certainly intended to convey the idea that what he did demon­ strated the superiority of God over the Devil. Did Christ believe in the existence of the Devil ? In the fifteenth chapter is the account of the woman of Canaan who cried unto Jesus, saying : “ Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou son of David. My daughter is sorely vexed with a devil.” On account of her faith Christ made the daughter whole. In the sixteenth chapter a man brought his son to Jesus. The boy was a lunatic, sore vexed, oftentimes falling in the fire and water. The disciples had tried to cure him and had failed. Jesus rebuked the devil, and the devil departed out of him, and the boy was cured. Was the devil in this case a personification of evil ? The disciples then asked Jesus why they could not cast that devil out. Jesus told them that it was because of their unbelief, and then added : “ Howbeit this kind goeth not out but by prayer and fasting.” From this it would seem that some personifications were easier to expel than others. The first chapter of Mark throws a little light on the �18 THE DEVIL. story of the temptation of Christ. Matthew tells us that Jesus was led up of the Spirit into the wilder­ ness to be tempted of the Devil. In Mark we are told who this Spirit was :— “And straightway coming up out of the water he saw the heavens opened, and the Spirit like a dove descending upon him. “ And there came a voice from heaven, saying: ‘Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.’ “And immediately the Spirit driveth him into the wilderness.” Why the Holy Ghost should hand Christ over to the tender mercies of the Devil is not explained. And it is all the more wonderful when we remember that the Holy Ghost was the third person in the Trinity and Christ the second, and that this Holy Ghost was, in fact, God, and that Christ also was, in fact, God, so that God led God into the wilderness to be tempted of the Devil. We are told that Christ was in the wilderness forty days tempted of Satan, and was with the wild beasts, and that the angels ministered unto him. Were these angels real angels, or were they personi­ fications of good, of comfort ? So we see that the same Spirit that came out of heaven, the same Spirit that said “This is my beloved son,” drove Christ into the wilderness to be tempted of Satan. Was this Devil a real being? Was this Spirit who claimed to be the father of Christ a real being, or was he a personification ? Are the heavens a real place ? Are they a personification ? Did the wild beasts live, �THE DEVIL. i9 and did the angels minister unto Christ ? In other words, is the story true, or is it poetry, or metaphor, or mistake, or falsehood ? It might be asked : Why did God wish to be tempted by the Devil ? Was God ambitious to obtain a victory over Satan ? Was Satan foolish enough to think that he could mislead God, and is it possible that the Devil offered to give the world as a bribe to its creator and owner, knowing at the same time that Christ was the creator and owner, and also knowing that he (Christ) knew that he (the Devil) knew that he (Christ) was the creator and owner ? Is not the whole story absurdly idiotic ? The Devil knew that Christ was God, and knew that Christ knew that the tempter was the Devil. It may be asked how I know that the Devil knew that Christ was God. My answer is found in the same chapter. There is an account of what a devil said to Christ “ Let us alone. What have we to do with thee, thou Jesus of Nazareth? Art thou come to destroy us? I know thee. Thou art the holy one of God.” Certainly, if the little devils knew this, the Devil him­ self must have had like information. Jesus rebuked this devil and said to him : “ Hold thy peace, and come out of him.” And when the unclean spirit had torn him and cried with a loud voice, he came out of him. So we are told that Jesus cast out many devils, and suffered not the devils to speak because they knew him. So it is said in the third chapter that “ unclean spirits, when they saw him, fell down before him and cried, .saying : ‘ Thou art the son of God.’ ” �20 THE DEVIL. In the fifth chapter is an account of casting out the devils that went into the swine, and we are told that “ all the devils besought him saying : ‘ Send us into the swine.’ And Jesus gave them leave.” Again I ask : Was it necessary for the devils to get the permission of Christ before they could enter swine ? Again I ask : By whose permission did they enter into the man ? Could personifications of evil enter a herd of swine, or could personifications of evil make a bargain with Christ ? In the sixth chapter we are told that the disciples “ cast out many devils, and anointed with oil many that were sick.” Here, again, the distinction is made between those possessed by devils and those afflicted by disease. It will not do to say that the devils were diseases or personifications. In the seventh chapter a Greek woman, w'hose daughter was possessed by a devil, besought Christ to cast this devil out. At last Christ said : “ The devil is gone out of thy daughter.” In the ninth chapter one of the multitude said unto Christ: “ I have brought unto thee my son which hath a dumb spirit. I spoke unto thy disciples that they should cast him out, and they could not.” So they brought this boy before Christ, and when the boy saw him the spirit tare him, and he fell on the ground and “wallowed, foaming.” Christ asked the father : “ How long is it ago since this came unto him ?” And he answered : “ Of a child, and ofttimes it hath cast him into the fire and into the waters to destroy him.” �THE DEVIL. 21 Then Christ said : “ Thou dumb and deaf spirit, I charge thee, come out of him, and enter no more into him.” “ And the spirit cried, and rent him sore, and came out of him ; and he was as one dead ; insomuch that many said : ‘ He is dead.’ ” Then the disciples asked Jesus why they could not cast them out, and Jesus said : “This kind can come forth by nothing but by prayer and fasting.” Is there any doubt about the belief of the man who wrote this account ? Is there any allegory, or poetry, or myth in this story ? The devil, in this case, was not an ordinary, every-day devil. He was dumb and deaf; it was no use to order him out, because he could not hear. The only way was to pray and fast. Is there such a thing as a dumb and deaf devil ? If so, the devils must be organized. They must have ears and organs of speech,and they must be dumb because there is something the matter with the apparatus of speaking, and they must be deaf because something is the matter with their ears. It would seem from this that they are not simply spiritual beings, but organized on a physical basis. Now, we know that the ears do not hear. It is the brain that hears. So these devils must have brains—that is to say, they must have been what we call “ organized beings.” Now, it is hardly possible that personifications of evil are dumb or deaf. That is to say, that they have physical imperfections. In the same chapter John tells Christ that he saw one casting out devils in Christ’s name who did not follow with them, and Jesus said : “ Forbid him not.” �22 THE DEVIL. By this he seemed to admit that some one, not a follower of his, was casting out devils in his name, and he was willing that he should go on, because, as he said: “For there is no man which shall do a miracle in my name that can lightly speak evil of me.” In the fourth chapter of Luke the story of the tempta­ tion of Christ by the Devil is again told with a few additions. All the writers, having been inspired, did not remember exactly the same things. Luke tells us that the Devil said unto Christ, having shown him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time : “ All this power will I give thee and the glory of them, for that is delivered unto me, and to whomso­ ever I will I give it. If thou wilt worship me, all shall be thine.” We are also told that when the Devil had ended all the temptation he departed from him for a season. The date of his return is not given. In the same chapter we are told that a man in the synagogue had a “spirit of an unclean devil.” This devil recognized Jesus, and admitted that he was the Holy One of God. As a matter of fact, the Apostles seemed to have relied upon the evidence of devils to substantiate the divinity of their Lord. Jesus said to this devil: “ Hold thy peace and come out of him.” And the devil, after throwing the man down, came out. In the forty-first verse of the same chapter it is said : “And devils also came out of many, crying out and saying : ‘Thou art Christ, the Son of God.’ ” �THE DEVIL. 23 It is also said that Christ rebuked them and suffered them not to speak, for they knew that he was Christ. Now, it will not do to say that these devils were diseases, because diseases could not talk, and diseases would not recognize Christ as the Son of God. After all, epilepsy is not a theologian. I admit that lunacy comes nearer. In the eighth chapter is told again the story of the devils and the swine. In this account Jesus asked the devil his name, and the devil replied “ Legion.” In the ninth chapter is told the story of the devil that the disciples could not cast out, but was cast out by Christ, and in the thirteenth chapter it is said that the Pharisees came to Jesus, telling him to go away, because Herod would kill him, and Jesus said unto these Pharisees : “ Go ye, and tell that fox, behold, I cast out devils.” What did he mean by this ? Did he mean that he cured diseases? No. Because in the same sentence he says, “And I do cures to-day,” making a distinction between devils and diseases. In the twenty-second chapter an account of the betrayal of Christ by Judas is given in these words : “Then entered Satan into Judas Iscariot, being of the number of the twelve.” “ And he went his way and communed with the chief priests and captains how he might betray him unto them. “ And they were glad, and covenanted to give him money.” According to Christ, the little devils knew that he was the Son of God. Certainly, then, Satan, king of all the �24 THE DEVIL. fiends, knew that Christ was divine. And he not only knew that, but he knew all about the scheme of salva­ tion. He knew that Christ wished to make an atone­ ment of blood by the sacrifice of himself. According to Christian theologians, the Devil has always done his utmost to gain possession of the souls of men. At the time he entered into Judas, persuading him to betray Christ, he knew that if Christ was betrayed he would be crucified, and that he would make an atonement for all believers, and that, as a result, he, the Devil, would lose all the souls that Christ gained. What interest had the Devil in defeating himself? If he could have prevented the betrayal, then Christ would not have been crucified. No atonement would have been made, and the whole world would have gone to hell. The success of the Devil would have been complete. But, according to this story, the Devil out­ witted himself. How thankful we should be to his Satanic Majesty. He opened for us the gates of paradise and made it possible for us to obtain eternal life. Without Satan, without Judas, not a single human being could have become an angel of light. All would have been wing­ less devils in the prison of flame. In Jerusalem, to the extent of his power, Satan repaired the wreck and ruin he had wrought in the Garden of Eden. Certainly the writers of the New Testament believed in the existence of the Devil. In the eighth chapter it is said that out of Mary Magdalene were cast seven devils. To me Mary Magdalene is the most beautiful character in the New �THE DEVIL. 25 Testament. She is the one true disciple. In the darkness of the crucifixion she lingered near. She was the first at the sepulchre. Defeat, disaster, dis­ grace, could not conquer her love. And yet, according to the account, when she met the risen Christ he said : “ Touch me not. ” This was the reward of her infinite devotion. In the Gospel of John we are told that John the Baptist said that he saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and that it abode upon Christ. But in the Gospel of John nothing is said about the Spirit driving Christ into the wilderness to be tempted by the Devil. Possibly John never heard of that, or forgot it, or did not believe it. But in the thirteenth chapter I find this : “ And supper being ended, the Devil having now put into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon’s son, to betray him.”....... In John there are no accounts of the casting out of devils by Christ or his apostles. On that subject there is no word. Possibly John had his doubts. In the fifth chapter of Acts we are told that the people brought the sick and those which were vexed with unclean spirits to the apostles, and the apostles healed them. Here, again, there is made a clear dis­ tinction between the sick and those possessed by devils. And in the eighth chapter we are told that “ unclean spirits, crying with a loud voice, came out of them.” In the thirteenth chapter Paul calls Elymas the child of the Devil, and in the sixteenth chapter an account is given of “ a damsel possessed with a spirit �26 THE DEVIL. of divination, who brought her masters much gain by soothsaying.” Paul and Silas, it would seem, cast out this spirit, and by reason of that suffered great persecution. In the nineteenth chapter certain vagabond Jews pronounced over those who had evil spirits the name of Jesus, and the evil spirits answered : “Jesus I know, and Paul I know ; but who are ye ?” “ And the man in whom the evil spirit was leaped on them, so that they fled naked and wounded.” Paul, writing to the Corinthians, in the eighth chapter says : “ I would not that ye should have fellowship with devils. Ye cannot drink the cup of the Lord and the cup of devils. Ye cannot be partakers of the Lord’s table and the table of devils. Do we provoke the Lord to jealousy ?” In the eleventh chapter he says that long hair is the glory of woman, but that she ought to keep her head covered because of the angels. In those intellectual days people believed in what were called the Incubi and the Succubi. The Incubi were male angels and the Succubi were female angels, and, according to the belief of that time, nothing so attracted the Incubi as the beautiful hair of women, and for this reason Paul said that women should keep their heads covered. Paul calls the Devil the “ prince of the power of the air.” So in Jude we are told “that Michael, the archangel, when contending with the devil he disputed about the body of Moses, durst not bring against him a railing accusation, but said : ‘The Lord rebuke thee.’ ” �THE DEVIL. 27 Was this devil with whom Michael contended a personification of evil, or a poem, or a myth ? In First Peter we are told to be sober, vigilant, “ because your adversary, the Devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour. Are people devoured by personifications or myths ? Has an allegory an appetite, or is a poem a cannibal ? So in Ephesians we are warned not to give place to the Devil, and in the same book we are told : “ Put on the whole armor of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the Devil.” And in Hebrews it is said that “ him that had the power of death—that is, the Devil”; showing that the Devil has the power of death. And in James it is said that if we resist the Devil he will flee from us ; and in First John we are told that he that committeth sin is of the Devil, for the reason that the Devil sinneth from the beginning ; and we are also told that “ for this purpose was the Son of God mani­ fested, that he may destroy the works of the Devil. No Devil—no Christ. In Revelation, the insanest of all following : “And there was war in and his angels fought against the dragon fought and his angels. “And prevailed not ; neither was books, I find the heaven. Michael dragon, and the their place found any more in heaven. “And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world : he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him. “ Therefore, rejoice, ye heavens, and ye that dwell �28 THE DEVIL. in them. Woe to the inhabiters of the earth and of the sea ; for the Devil is come down unto you, having great wrath, because he knoweth that he hath but a short time.” From this it would appear that the Devil once lived in heaven, raised a rebellion, was defeated and cast out; and the inspired writer congratulates the angels that they are rid of him, and commiserates us that we have him. In the twentieth chapter of Revelation is the fol­ lowing :— “And I saw an angel come down from heaven, having the key of the bottomless pit and a great chain in his hand. “And he laid hold on the dragon—that old serpent, which is the Devil and Satan—and bound him a thou­ sand years. “And cast him into the bottomless pit, and shut him up, and set a seal upon him, that he should deceive the nations no more till the thousand years should be ful­ filled ; and after he must be loosed a little season.” It is hard to understand how one could be confined in a pit without a bottom, and how a chain of iron could hold one in eternal fire, or what use there would be to lock a bottomless pit; but these are questions probably suggested by the Devil. We are further told that “when the thousand years are expired Satan shall be loosed out of his prison.” “And the Devil was cast jinto the lake of fire and brimstone where the beast and the false prophet are, and shall be tormented day’and night forever.” In the light of the passages that I have read we can �THE DEVIL. 29 clearly see what the writers of the New Testament believed. About this there can be no honest difference. If the Gospels teach the existence of God—of Christ they teach the existence of the Devil. If the Devil does not exist—if little devils do not enter the bodies of men—the New Testament may be inspired, but it is not true. The early Christians proved that Christ was divine because he cast out devils. The evidence they offered was more absurd than the statement they sought to prove. They were like the old man who said that he saw a grindstone floating down the river. Someone said that a grindstone would not float. “Ah,” said the old man, “ but the one I saw had an iron crank in it.” Of course, I do not blame the authors of the Gospels. They lived in a superstitious age, at a time when Rumor was the historian, when Gossip corrected the “proof,” and when everything w’as believed except the facts. The Apostles, like their fellows, believed in miracles and magic. Credulity was regarded as a virtue. The Rev. Mr. Parkhurst denounces the Apostles as worthless cravens. Certainly I do not agree with him. I think that they were good men. I do not believe that any one of them ever tried to reform Jerusalem on the Parkhurst plan. I admit that they honestly believed in devils—that they were credulous and superstitious. There is one story in the New Testament that illus­ trates my meaning. In the fifth chapter of John is the following :— “Now, there is at Jerusalem, by the sheep market, a �30 THE DEVIL. pool, which is called in the Hebrew tongue ‘ Bethesda, having five porches. “ In these lay a great multitude of impotent folk—of blind, halt, withered—waiting for the moving of the water. “ For an angel went down at a certain season into the pool and troubled the water : whosoever then first after the troubling of the water stepped in was made whole of whatsoever disease he had. “And a certain man was there which had an infirmity thirty and eight years. “When Jesus saw him lie, and knew that he had been now a long time in that case, he saith unto him : ‘ Wilt thou be made whole ?’ “ The impotent man answered him : ‘ Sir, I have no man when the water is troubled to put me into the pool ; but while I am coming another steppeth down before me.’ “Jesus saith unto him : ‘Rise, take up thy bed and walk. ’ “ And immediately the man was made whole and took up his bed and walked.” Does any sensible human being now believe this story? Was the water of Bethesda troubled by an angel ? Where did the angel come from ? Where do angels live ? Did the angel put medicine in the water—just enough to cure one ? Did he put in different medicines for different diseases, or did he have a medicine, like those that are patented now, that cured all diseases just the same ? Was the water troubled by an angel ? Possibly what apostles and theologians call an angel a scientist knows as carbonic acid gas. �THE DEVIL. 3i John does not say that the people thought the water was troubled by an angel, but he states it as a fact. And he tells us, also, as a fact, that the first invalid that got in the water after it had been troubled was cured of what disease he had. What is the evidence of John worth ? Again, I say that if the Devil does not exist, the Gospels are not inspired. If devils do not exist, Christ was either honestly mistaken, insane, or an impostor. t If devils do not exist, the Fall of Man is a mistake and the Atonement an absurdity. If devils do not exist, hell becomes only a dream of revenge. Beneath the structure called “ Christianity ” are four cornerstones—the Father, Son, Holy Ghost, and Devil. �IV. THE EVIDENCE OF THE CHURCH. The Devil was Forced to Father the Failures of God. All the fathers of the Church believed in devils. All the saints won their crowns by overcoming devils. All the popes and cardinals, bishops and priests, believed in devils. Most of their time was occupied in fighting devils. The whole Catholic world, from the lowest layman to the highest priest, believed in devils. They proved the existence of'devils by the New Testa­ ment. They knew that these devils were citizens of hell. They knew that Satan was their king. They knew that hell was made for the Devil and his angels. The founders of all the Protestant churches—the makers of all the orthodox creeds—all the leading Protestant theologians, from Luther to the president of Princeton College—were, and are, firm believers in the Devil. All the great commentators believed in the Devil as firmly as they did in God. Under the “ Scheme of Salvation ” the Devil was a necessity. Somebody had to be responsible for the thorns and thistles, for the cruelties and crimes. Somebody had to father the mistakes of God. The Devil was the scapegoat of Jehovah. For hundreds of years good, honest, zealous Chris­ tians contended against the Devil. They fought him �THE DEVIL. 33 day and night, and the thought that they had beaten him gave to their dying lips the smile of victory. For centuries the Church taught that the natural man was totally depraved ; that he was by nature a child of the Devil, and that new-born babes were tenanted by unclean spirits. As late as the middle of the sixteenth century every infant that was baptized was, by that ceremony, freed from a devil. When the holy water was applied the priest said : “ I command thee, thou unclean spirit, in the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, that thou come out and depart from this infant, whom our Lord Jesus Christ has vouchsafed to call to his holy baptism, to be made a member of his body, and of his holy congregation.” At that time the fathers—the theologians, the com­ mentators—agreed that unbaptized children, including those that were born dead, went to hell. And these same fathers—theologians and commen­ tators—said : “ God is love.” These babes were pure as Pity’s tears, innocent as their mother’s loving smiles, and yet the makers of our creeds believed and taught that leering, unclean fiends inhabited their dimpled flesh. O, the unsearchable riches of Christianity ! For many centuries the Church filled the world with devils—with malicious spirits that caused storm and tempest, disease, accident, and death—that filled the night with visions of despair; with prophecies that drove the dreamers mad. These devils assumed a thousand forms—countless disguises in their efforts to capture souls and destroy the Church. They deceived �34 THE DEVIL. sometimes the wisest and the best; made priests forget their vows. They melted virtue’s snow in passion’s fire, and in cunning ways entrapped and smirched the innocent and good. These devils gave witches and wizards their supernatural powers, and told them the secrets of the future. Millions of men and women were destroyed because they had sold themselves to the Devil. At that time Christians really believed the New Testament. They knew it was the inspired word of God, and, so believing, so knowing—as they thought— they became insane. No man has genius enough to describe the agonies that have been inflicted on innocent men and women because of this absurd belief. How it darkened the mind, hardened the heart, and poisoned life ! It made the Universe a madhouse presided over by an insane God. Think ! Why would a merciful God allow his children to be the victims of devils ? Why would a decent God allow his worshippers to believe in devils, and by reason of that belief to persecute, torture, and burn their fellow-men ? Christians did not ask these questions. They believed the Bible ; they had confidence in the words of Christ. �V. PERSONIFICATIONS OF EVIL. The Orthodox Ostrich Thrusts His Head into the Sand. Many of the clergy are now ashamed to say that they believe in devils. The belief has become ignorant and vulgar. They are ashamed of the lake of fire and brimstone. It is too savage. At the same time they do not wish to give up the inspiration of the Bible. They give new meanings to the inspired words. Now they say that devils were only personifications of evil. If the devils were only personifications of evil, what were the angels ? Was the angel who told Joseph who the father of Christ was, a personification ? Was the Holy Ghost only the personification of a father? Was the angel who told Joseph that Herod was dead a per­ sonification of news ? Were the angels who rolled away the stone and sat clothed in shining garments in the empty sepulchre of Christ a couple of personifications ? Were all the angels described in the Old Testament imaginary shadows—bodily personifications ? If the angels of the Bible are real angels, the devils are real devils. Let us be honest with ourselves and each other, and give to the Bible its natural, obvious meaning. Let us �36 THE DEVIL. admit that the writers believed what they wrote. If we believe that they were mistaken, let us have the honesty and courage to say so. Certainly we have no right to change or avoid their meaning, or to dis­ honestly correct their mistakes. Timid preachers sully their own souls when they change what the writers of the Bible believed to be facts to allegories, parables, poems, and myths. It is impossible for any man who believes in the inspi­ ration of the Bible to explain away the Devil. If the Bible is true, the Devil exists. There is no escape from this. If the Devil does not exist, the Bible is not true. There is no escape from this. I admit that the Devil of the Bible is an impossible contradiction ; an impossible being. This Devil is the enemy of God, and God is his. Now, why should this Devil, in another world, torment sinners, who are his friends, to please God, his enemy ? If the Devil is a personification, so is hell and the lake of fire and brimstone. All these horrors fade into allegories—into ignorant lies. Any clergyman who can read the Bible, and then say that devils are personifications of evil, is himself a per­ sonification of stupidity or hypocrisy. �VI. Does any intelligent man now, whose brain has not been deformed by superstition, believe in the existence of the Devil ? What evidence have we that he exists ? Where does this Devil live ? What does he do for a livelihood ? What does he eat ? If he does not eat, he cannot think. He cannot think without the expen­ diture of force. He cannot create force ; he must borrow it—that is to say, he must eat. How does he move from place to place ? Does he walk or does he fly, or has he invented some machine ? What object has he in life ? What idea of success ? This Devil, according to the Bible, knows that he is to be defeated ; knows that the end is absolute and eternal failure; knows that every step he takes leads to the infinite catastrophe. Why does he act as he does ? Our fathers thought that everything in this world came from some other realm ; that all ideas of right and wrong came from above ; that conscience dropped from the clouds ; that the darkness was filled with imps from perdition, and the day with angels from heaven ; that souls had been breathed into man by Jehovah. What there is in this world that lives and breathes was produced here. Life was not imported. Mind is not an exotic. Of this planet man is a native. This world is his mother. The maker did not descend from the heavens. The maker was, and is, here. Matter �38 THE DEVIL. and force, in their countless forms, affinities, and repul­ sions, produced the living, breathing world. How can we account for devils ? Is it possible that they creep into the bodies of men and swine ? Do they stay in the stomach or brain, in the heart or liver ? Are these devils immortal, or do they multiply and die? Were they all created at the same time, or did they spring from a single pair ? If they are subject to death, what becomes of them after death ? Do they go to some other world, are they annihilated, or can they get to heaven by believing on Christ ? In the brain of science the devils have never lived. There you will find no goblins, ghosts, wraiths, or imps —no witches, spooks, or sorcerers. There the super­ natural does not exist. No man of sense in the whole world believes in devils, any more than he does in mermaids, vampires, gorgons, hydras, naiads, dryads, nymphs, fairies, or the anthropophagi—any more than he does in the Fountain of Youth, the Philosopher’s Stone, Perpetual Motion, or Fiat Money. There is the same difference between religion and science that there is between a madhouse and a univer­ sity—between a fortune-teller and a mathematician—between emotion and philosophy—between guess and demonstration. The devils have gone, and with them they have taken the miracles of Christ. They have carried away our Lord. They have taken away the inspiration of the Bible, and we are left in the darkness of nature without the consolation of hell. But let me ask the clergy a few questions :— How did your Devil, who was at one time an angel �THE DEVIL. 39 of light, come to sin? There was no other devil to tempt him. He was in perfectly good society—in the company of God—of the Trinity. All of his associates were perfect. How did he fall? He knew that God was infinite, and yet he waged war against him, and induced about a third of the angels to volunteer. He knew that he could not succeed ; knew that he would be defeated and cast out; knew that he was fighting for failure. Why was God so unpopular ? Why were the angels so bad ? According to the Christians, these angels were spirits. They had never been corrupted by flesh—by the passion of love. Why were they so wicked ? Why did God create those angels, knowing that they would rebel ? Why did he deliberately sow the seeds of discord in heaven, knowing that he would cast them into the lake of eternal fire—knowing that for them he would create the eternal prison, whose dungeons would echo forever the sobs and shrieks of endless pain ? How foolish is infinite wisdom I How malicious is mercy 1 How revengeful is boundless love 1 Again, I say that no sensible man in all the world believes in devils. Why does God allow these devils to enjoy themselves at the expense of his ignorant children ? Why does he allow them to leave their prison ? Does he give them furloughs or tickets-of-leave ? Does he want his children misled and corrupted so that he can have the pleasure of damning their souls ? �VII. THE MAN OF STRAW. Some of the preachers who have answered me say that I am fighting a man of straw. I am fighting the supernatural—the dogma of in­ spiration—the belief in devils—the atonement, salva­ tion by faith—the forgiveness of sins, and the savagery of eternal pain. I am fighting the absurd, the mon­ strous, the cruel. The ministers pretend that they have advanced— that they do not believe the things that I attack. In this they are not honest. Who is the “ man of straw ” ? The man of straw is their master. In every ortho­ dox pulpit stands this man of straw—stands beside the preacher—stands with a club, called a “creed,” in his upraised hand. The shadow of this club falls athwart the open Bible—falls upon the preacher’s brain, darkens the light of his reason, and compels him to betray himself. The man of straw rules every sectarian school and college—every orthodox church. He is the censor who passes on every sermon. Now and then some minister puts a little sense in his discourse—tries to take a forward step. Down comes the club, and the man of straw demands an explanation—a retraction. �THE DEVIL. 4i If the minister takes it back—good. If he does not, he is brought to book. The man of straw put the plaster of silence on the lips of Professor Briggs, and he was forced to leave the Church or remain dumb. The man of straw closed the mouth of Professor Smith, and he has not opened it since. The man of straw would not allow the Presbyterian creed to be changed. The man of straw took Father McGlynn by the collar, forced him to his knees, made him take back his' words and ask forgiveness for having been abused. The man of straw pitched Professor Swing out of the pulpit, and drove the Rev. Mr. Thomas from the Methodist Church. Let me tell the orthodox ministers that they are trying to cover their retreat. You have given up the geology and astronomy of the Bible. You have admitted that its history is untrue. You are retreating still. You are giving up the dogma of inspiration ; you have your doubts about the Flood and Babel; you have given up the witches and wizards ; you are beginning to throw away the miraculous ; you have killed the little devils, and in a little while you will murder the Devil him­ self. In a few years you will take the Bible for what it is worth. The good and true will be treasured in the heart; the foolish, the infamous, will be thrown away. The man of straw will then be dead. Of course, the real old petrified, orthodox Christian will cling to the Devil. He expects to have all of his sins charged to the Devil, and at the same time he will �42 THE DEVIL. be credited with all the virtues of Christ. Upon this showing on the books, upon this balance, he will be entitled to his halo and harp. What a glorious, what aji equitable, transaction 1 The sorcerer Superstition changes debt to credit. He waves his wand, and he who deserves the tortures of hell receives an eternal reward. But if a man lacks faith the scheme is exactly reversed. While in one case a soul is rewarded for the virtues of another, in the other case a soul is damned for the sins of another. This is justice when it blossoms in mercy. Beyond this idiocy cannot go. �VIII. KEEP THE DEVILS OUT OF CHILDREN. William Kingdon Clifford, one of the greatest men of this century, said : “ If there is one lesson that history forces upon us in every page, it is this :—Keep your children away from the priest, or he will make them the enemies of mankind.” In every orthodox Sunday-school children are taught to believe in devils. Every little brain becomes a menagerie, filled with wild beasts from hell. The imagination is polluted with the deformed, the mon­ strous, and malicious. To fill the minds of children with leering fiends—with mocking devils—is one of the meanest and basest of crimes. In these pious prisons—these divine dungeons—-these Protestant and Catholic inquisitions—children are tortured with these cruel lies. Here they are taught that to really think is wicked ; that to express your honest thought is blas­ phemy ; and that to live a free and joyous life, depend­ ing on fact instead of faith, is the sin against the Holy Ghost. Children thus taught—thus corrupted and deformed— become the enemies of investigation—of progress. They are no longer true to themselves. They have lost the veracity of the soul. In the language of Professor Clifford, “ they are the enemies of the human race.” �44 ' THE DEVIL. So I say to all fathers and mothers: Keep your children away from priests ; away from orthodox Sunday-schools ; away from the slaves of superstition. They will teach them to believe in the Devil ; in hell ; in the prison of God ; in the eternal dungeon, where the souls of men are to suffer for ever. These frightful things are a part of Christianity. Take these lies from the creed, and the whole scheme falls into shapeless ruin. This dogma of hell is the infinite of savagery—-the dream of insane revenge. It makes God a wild beast—an infinite hyena. It makes Christ as merciless as the fangs of a viper. Save poor children from the pollution ot this horror. Protect them from this infinite lie. �IX. CONCLUSION- I admit that there are many good and beautiful passages in the Old and New Testament; that from the lips of Christ dropped many pearls of kindness— of love. Every verse that is true and tender I treasure in my heart. Every thought, behind which is the tear of pity, I appreciate and love. But I cannot accept it all. Many utterances attributed to Christ shock my brain and heart. They are absurd and cruel. Take from the New Testament the infinite savagery, the shoreless malevolence of eternal pain, the absurdity of salvation by faith, the ignorant belief in the exist­ ence of devils, the immorality and cruelty of the Atone­ ment, the doctrine of non-resistance that denies to virtue the right of self-defence, and how glorious it would be to know that the remainder is true ! Com­ pared with this knowledge, how everything else in nature would shrink and shrivel! What ecstasy it would be to know that God exists ; that he is our father, and that he loves and cares for the chil­ dren of men I To know that all the paths that human beings travel, turn and wind as they may, lead to the �46 THE DEVIL. gates of stainless peace 1 How the heart would thrill and throb to know that Christ was the conqueror of Death ; that at his grave the all-devouring monster was baffled and beaten forever ; that from that moment the tomb became the door that opens on eternal life I To know this would change all sorrow into gladness. Poverty, failure, disaster, defeat, power, place, and wealth would become meaningless sounds. To take your babe upon your knee and say : “ Mine, and mine forever !” What joy ! To clasp the woman you love in your arms, and to know that she is yours, and for­ ever—yours though suns darken and constellations vanish ! This is enough : To know that the loved and dead are not lost; that they still live and love and wait for you. To know that Christ dispelled the darkness of death and filled the grave with eternal light. To know this would be all that the heart could bear. Beyond this joy cannot go. Beyond this there is no place for hope. How beautiful, how enchanting, Death would be ! How we would long to see his fleshless skull ! What rays of glory would stream from his sightless sockets, and how the heart would long for the touch of his stilling hand ! The shroud would become a robe of glory, the funeral procession a harvest home, and the grave would mark the end of sorrow, the beginning of eternal joy. And yet it were better far that all this should be false than that all of the New Testament should be true. It is far better to have no heaven than to have heaven and hell ; better to have no God than God �THE DEVIL. 47 and Devil ; better to rest in eternal sleep than to be an angel and know that the ones you love are suffer­ ing eternal pain ; better to live a free and loving life— a life that ends forever at the grave—than to be an immortal slave. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Victorian Blogging Description An account of the resource A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library &amp; Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span> Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Conway Hall Library & Archives Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2018 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Conway Hall Ethical Society Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Pamphlet Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Devil : a lecture Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Ingersoll, Robert Green [1833-1899.] Description An account of the resource Place of publication: London Collation: 47 p. ; 19 cm. Notes: No. 17b in Stein checklist. Part of the NSS pamphlet collection. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available R. Forder Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1899 Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context N338 Subject The topic of the resource Devil Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a href="http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /></a><span> </span><br /><span>This work (The Devil : a lecture), identified by </span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk"><span>Humanist Library and Archives</span></a><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span> Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource application/pdf Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Language A language of the resource English Devil-Christianity NSS https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/25778/archive/files/02e4bb429be68c5e9e1971972542ac9a.pdf?Expires=1779321600&Signature=igzToDsZw9W-Yc-h0hGRWly7EXPG9yzeba3%7EQkVFw0BGMAQIuBXakUQJHeEvOggFENU0TUoONRAncl3704wo4nXVnclhWRLC5g8LDtgo%7EgVIILKRDAd75WWNuqhF2ZS50ZPUIEE8TKMDlyOSHitdsQB53wxrLGzV05r2mqMULERRcG9IxbYnMS00ZvJ%7EHzSBH%7ELhvI5CprX1H1y4CDEI%7EK2R1xdnI026rl-36HInrm9KafEz1uoLHkWc8Q-VZP1aZhgySqKKVtIHrr9fGhtzoNZtl2NcnOdbqYfZKf5Vex%7EpAiIlf3yR3Xq6HfCWIFFZue-2pQ9lLCaVpiUwDI56FQ__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM 525e27b147449b72f7e2dfbf40b54b9c PDF Text Text PRICE SIXPENCE. 15 MAR 1909 ��H4~*° SUPERSTITION. She wears a robe of pictured legends, broidered with woven lies. A LECTURE ROBERT G. INGERSOLL. London: R. FORDER, 28 STONECUTTER-STREET, E.C. 1899. ��SUPERSTITION, I. WHAT IS SUPERSTITION? To believe in spite of evidence or without evidence ? To account for one mystery by another. To believe that the world is governed by chance or caprice. To disregard the true relation between cause and effect. To put thought, intention, and design back of nature. To believe that mind created and controls matter. To believe in force apart from substance, or in sub­ stance apart from force. To believe in miracles, spells, and charms, in dreams and prophecies. To believe in the supernatural. The foundation of superstition is ignorance, the super­ structure is faith, and the dome is a vain hope. Super­ stition is the child of ignorance and the mother of misery. In nearly every brain is found some cloud of super­ stition. A woman drops a cloth with which she is washing dishes, and she exclaims : “ That means company.” Most people will admit that there is no possible connection between dropping the cloth and the coming �4 of visitors. SUPERSTITION. The falling cloth could not have put the visit desire in the minds of people not present, and how could the cloth produce the desire to visit the particular person who dropped.it? There is no possible connec­ tion between the dropping of the cloth and the anti­ cipated effects. A man catches a glimpse of the new moon over his left shoulder, and he says : “ This is bad luck.” To see the moon over the right or left shoulder, or hot to see it, could not by any possibility affect the moon, neither could it change the effect or influence of the moon on any earthly thing. Certainly the left­ shoulder glance could in no way affect the nature of things. All the facts in nature would remain the same as though the glance had been over the right shoulder. We see no connection between the left-shoulder glance and any possible evil effects upon the one who saw the moon in this way. A girl counts the leaves of a flower, and she says : “ One, he comes ; two, he tarries ; three, he courts ; four, he marries ; five, he goes away.” Of course the flower did not grow, and the number of its leaves was not determined with reference to the courtship or marriage of this girl, neither could there have been any intelligence that guided her hand when she selected that particular flower. So, counting the seeds in an apple cannot in any way determine whether the future of an individual is to be happy or miserable. Thousands of persons believe in lucky and unlucky days, numbers, signs, and jewels. Many people regard Friday as an unlucky day—as a �SUPERSTITION. 5 bad day to commence a journey, to marry, to make any investment. The only reason given is that Friday is an unlucky day. Starting across the sea on Friday could have no possible effect upon the winds, or waves, or tides, any more than starting on any other day, and the only possible reason for thinking Friday unlucky is the asser­ tion that it is so. So it is thought by many that it is dangerous for thirteen people to dine together. Now, if thirteen is a dangerous number, twenty-six ought to be twice as dangerous, and fifty-two four times as terrible. It is said that one of the thirteen will die in a year. Now, there is no possible relation between the number and the digestion of each, between the number and the individual diseases. If fourteen dine together there is greater probability, if we take into account only the number, of a death within the year than there would be if only thirteen were at the table. Overturning the salt is very unlucky, but spilling the vinegar makes no difference. Why salt should be revengeful and vinegar forgiving has never been told. If the first person who enters a theatre is cross-eyed, the audience will be small and the “ run ” a failure. How the peculiarity of the eyes of the first one who enters changes the intention of a community, or how the intentions of a community cause the cross-eyed man to go early, has never been satisfactorily explained. Between this so-called cause and the so-called effect there is, so far as we can see, no possible relation. To wear an opal is bad luck, but rubies bring health. �6 SUPERSTITION. How these stones affect the future, how they destroy causes and defeat effects, no one pretends to know. So there are thousands of lucky and unlucky things, warnings, omens, and prophecies ; but all sensible, sane, and reasoning human beings know that every one is an absurd and idiotic superstition. Let us take another step :— For many centuries it was believed that eclipses of the sun and moon were prophetic of pestilence or famine, and that comets foretold the death of kings, or the destruction of nations, the coming of war or plague. All strange appearances in the heavens—the Northern Lights, circles about the moon, sun dogs, falling stars —filled our intelligent ancestors with terror. They fell upon their knees—did their best with sacrifice and prayer to avoid the threatened disaster. Their faces were ashen with fear as they closed their eyes and cried to the heavens for help. The clergy, who were as familiar with God then as the orthodox preachers are now, knew exactly the meaning of eclipses and sun dogs and Northern Lights ; knew that God’s patience was nearly exhausted ; that he was then whetting the sword of his wrath, and that the people could save themselves only by obeying the priests, by counting their beads, and doubling their subscriptions. Earthquakes and cyclones filled the coffers of the Church. In the midst of disasters the miser, with trembling hands, opened his purse. In the g'loom of eclipses thieves and robbers divided their booty with God, and poor, honest, ignorant girls, remembering that they had forgotten to say a prayer, gave their little earnings to soften the heart of God. �SUPERSTITION. 7 Now, we know that all these signs and wonders in the heavens have nothing to do with the fate of kings, nations, or individuals ; that they had no more reference to human beings than to colonies of ants, hives of bees, or the eggs of insects. We now know that the signs­ and eclipses, the comets and the falling stars, would have been just the same if not a human being had been upon the earth. We know now that eclipses come at certain times, and that their coming can be exactly fore­ told. A little while ago the belief was general that there were certain healing virtues in inanimate things, in the bones of holy men and women, in the rags that had been torn from the foul clothing of still fouler saints, in hairs from martyrs, in bits of wood and rusty nails from the true cross, in the teeth and finger nails of pious men, and in a thousand other sacred things. The diseased were cured by kissing a box in which was kept some bone, or rag, or bit of wood, some holy hairs, provided the kiss was preceded or followed by a gift—a something for the church. In some mysterious way the virtue in the bone, or rag, or piece of wood, crept or flowed from the box, took possession of the sick who had the necessary faith, and, in the name of God, drove out the devils who were the real disease. This belief in the efficacy of bones or rags and holy hair was born of another belief—the belief that all diseases were produced by evil spirits. The insane were supposed to be possessed by devils. Epilepsy and hysteria were produced by the imps of Satan. In short, every human affliction was the work of the malicious �8 SUPERSTITION. emissaries of the god of hell. This belief was almost universal, and even in our time the sacred bones are believed in by millions of people. But, to-day, no intelligent man believes in the exist­ ence of devils—no intelligent man believes that evil spirits cause disease—consequently, no intelligent person believes that holy bones or rags, sacred hairs or pieces of wood, can drive disease out, or in any way bring back to the pallid cheek the rose of health. Intelligent people now know that the bone of a saint has in it no greater virtue than the bone of any animal. That a rag from a wandering beggar is just as good as one from a saint, and that the hair of a horse will cure disease just as quickly and surely as the hair of a martyr. We now know that all the sacred relics are religious rubbish ; that those who use them are, for the most part, dishonest, and that those who rely on them are almost idiotic. This belief in amulets and charms, in ghosts and devils, is superstition, pure and simple. Our ancestors did not regard these relics as medicine, having a curative power ; but the idea was that evil spirits stood in dread of holy things—that they fled from the bone of a saint, that they feared a piece of the true cross, and that when holy water was sprinkled on a man they immediately left the premises. So these devils hated and dreaded the sound of holy bells, the light of sacred tapers, and, above all, the ever-blessed cross. In those days the priests were fishers for money, and they used these relics for bait. �SUPERSTITION. 9 II. Let us take another step. This belief in the Devil and evil spirits laid the founda­ tion for another belief: Witchcraft. It was believed that the Devil had certain things to give in exchange for a soul. The old man, bowed and broken, could get back his youth—the rounded form, the brown hair, the leaping heart of life’s morning—if he would sign and seal away his soul. So it was thought that the malicious could by charm and spell obtain revenge, that the poor could be enriched, and that the ambitious could rise to place and power. All the good things of this lite were at the disposal of the Devil. For those who resisted the temptations of the Evil One, rewards were waiting in another world ; but the Devil rewarded here in this life. No one has imagination enough to paint the agonies that were endured by reason of this belief in witchcraft. Think of the families destroyed; of the fathers and mothers cast in prison, tortured, and burned ; of the firesides darkened ; of the children murdered ; of the old, the poor, and helpless that were stretched on racks, mangled and flayed ! Think of the days when superstition and fear were in every house, in every mind, when accusation was conviction, when assertion of innocence was regarded �IO SUPERSTITION. as a confession of guilt, and when Christendom was insane 1 Now we know that all of these horrors were the result of superstition. Now we know that ignorance was the mother of all the agonies endured. Now we know that witches never lived, that human beings never bargained with any devil, and that our pious savage ancestors were mistaken. Let us take another step. Our fathers believed in miracles, in signs and wonders, eclipses and comets, in the virtues of bones, and in the powers attributed to evil spirits. All these belonged tothe miraculous. The world was supposed to be full of magic; the spirits were sleight-of-hand performers— necromancers. There were no natural causes behind events. A devil wished, and it happened. One who had sold his soul to Satan made a few motions, uttered sbme strange words, and the event was present. Natural causes were not believed in. Delusion and illusion, the monstrous and miraculous, ruled the world. The founda­ tion was gone—reason had abdicated. Credulity gave tongues and wings to lies, while the dumb and limping facts were left behind—were disregarded and remained untold. WHAT IS A MIRACLE ? An act performed by a master of nature without reference to the facts in nature. This is the only honest definition of a miracle. If a man could make a perfect circle, the diameter of which was exactly one-half the circumference, that would be a miracle in geometry. If a man could make �.S' UPERSTI TION. 11 twice four nine, that would be a miracle in mathe­ matics. If a man could make a stone, falling in the air, pass through a space of ten feet the first second, twenty-five feet the second second, and five feet the third second, that would be a miracle in physics. If a man could put together hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen, and produce pure gold, that would be a miracle in chemistry. If a minister were to prove his creed, that would be a theological miracle. If Congress by law would make fifty cents worth of silver worth a dollar, that would be a financial miracle. To make a square triangle would be a most wonderful miracle. To cause a mirror to reflect the faces of persons who stand behind it, instead of those who stand in front, would be a miracle. To make echo answer a question would be a miracle. In other words, to do anything contrary to or without regard to the facts in nature is to perform a miracle. Now we are convinced of what is called the “uniformity of nature.” We believe that all things act and are acted upon in accordance with their nature ; that under like conditions the results will always be substantially the same ; that like ever has and ever will produce like. We now believe that events have natural parents, and that none die childless. Miracles are not simply impossible, but they are un­ thinkable by any man capable of thinking. Now, an intelligent man cannot believe that a miracle ever was, or ever will be, performed. Ignorance is the soil in which belief in miracles grows. �12 SUPERSTITION. III. Let us take another step. While our ancestors filled the darkness with evil spirits, enemies of mankind, they also believed in the existence of good spirits. These good spirits sustained the same relation to God that the evil ones did to the Devil. These good spirits protected the faithful from the temptations and snares of the Evil One. They took care of those who carried amulets and charms, of those who repeated prayers and counted beads, of those who fasted and performed ceremonies. These good spirits would turn aside the sword and arrow from the breast of the faithful. They made poison harmless, they protected the credulous, and in a thousand ways defended and rescued the true believer. They drove doubts from the minds of the pious, sowed the seeds of credulity and faith, saved saints from the wiles ot women, painted the glories of heaven for those who fasted and prayed, made it possible for the really good to dispense with the pleasures of sense and to hate the Devil. These angels watched over infants who had been baptized, over persons who had made holy vows, over priests and nuns and wandering beggars who believed. These spirits were of various kinds : some had once �SUPERSTITION. i3 been men or women, some had never lived in this world, and some had been angels from the commencement. Nobody pretended to know exactly what they were, or exactly how they looked, or in what way they went from place to place, or how they affected or controlled the minds of men. It was believed that the king of all these evil spirits was the Devil, and that the king of all the good spirits was God. It was also believed that God was in fact the king of all, and that the Devil himself was one of the children of this God. This God and this Devil were at war, each trying to secure the souls of men. God offered the rewards of eternal joy and threatened eternal pain. The Devil baited his traps with pleasant pleasure, with the gratification of the senses, with the ecstasies of love, and laughed at the joys of heaven and the pangs of hell. With malicious hand he sowed the seeds of doubt—induced men to investigate, to reason, to call for evidence, to rely upon themselves ; planted in their hearts the love of liberty, assisted them to break their chains, to escape from their prisons, and besought them to think. In this way he corrupted the children of men. Our fathers believed that they could, by prayer, by sacrifice, by fasting, by performing certain ceremonies, gain the assistance of this God and of these good spirits. They were not quite logical. They did not believe that the Devil was the author of all evil. They thought that flood and famine, plague and cyclone, earthquake and war, were sometimes sent by God as punishment for unbelief. They fell upon their knees and, with white lips, prayed the good God to stay his �SUPERSTITION. hand. They humbled themselves, confessed their sins, and filled the heavens with their vows and cries. With priests and prayers they tried to stay the plague. They kissed the relics, fell at shrines, besought the Virgin and the saints ; but the prayers all died in the heartless air, and the plague swept on to its natural end. Our poor fathers knew nothing of any science. Back of all events they put spirits, good or bad, angels or demons, gods or devils. To them nothing had what we call a natural cause. Everything was the work of spirits. All was done by the supernatural; and everything was done by evil spirits that they could do to ruin, punish, mislead, and damn the children of men. This world was a field of battle, and here the hosts of heaven and hell waged war. �SUPERSTITION. 1.5 IV. Now, no man in whose brain the torch of reason burns; no man who investigates, who really thinks, who is capable of weighing evidence, believes in signs, in lucky or unlucky days, in lucky or unlucky numbers. He knows that Fridays and Thursdays are alike ; that thirteen is no more deadly than twelve. He knows that opals affect the wearer the same as rubies, diamonds, or common glass. He knows that the matrimonial chances of a maiden are not increased or decreased by the number of leaves of a flower or seeds in an apple. He knows that a glance at the moon over the left shoulder is as healthful and lucky as one over the right. He does not care whether the first comer to a theatre is cross-eyed or hump-backed, bow-legged, or as wellproportioned as Apollo. He knows that a strange cat could be denied asylum without bringing any mis­ fortune to the family. He knows that an owl does not. hoot in the full of the moon because a distinguished man is about to die. He knows that comets and eclipses would come if all the folks were dead. He is, not frightened by sun dogs or the Morning of the North, when the glittering lances pierce the shield of night. He knows that all these things occur without �i6 5 UPERSTITION. the slightest reference to the human race. He feels certain that floods would destroy and cyclones rend and earthquakes devour ; that the stars would shine ; that day and night would still pursue each other around the world ; that flowers would give their perfume to the air, and light would paint the seven-hued arch upon the dusky bosom of the cloud if every human being was unconscious dust. A man of thought and sense does not believe in the existence of the Devil. He feels certain that imps, goblins, demons, and evil spirits exist only in the imagi­ nation of the ignorant and frightened, He knows how these malevolent myths were made, He knows the part they have played in all religions. He knows that for many centuries a belief in these devils, these evil spirits, was substantially universal. He knows that the priest believed as firmly as the peasant. In those days the best educated and the most ignorant were equal dupes. Kings and courtiers, ladies and clowns, soldiers and artists, slaves and convicts, believed as firmly in the Devil as they did in God. Back of this belief there is no evidence, and there never has been. This belief did not rest on any fact. It was supported by mistakes, exaggerations, and lies. The mistakes were natural, the exaggerations were mostly unconscious, and the lies were generally honest. Back of these mistakes, these exaggerations, these lies, was the love of the marvellous. Wonder listened with greedy ears, with wide eyes, and ignorance with open mouth. The man of sense knows the history of this belief, and he knows, also, that for many centuries its truth �SUPERSTITION. was established by the Holy Bible. He knows that the Old Testament is filled with allusions to the Devil, to evil spirits ; and that the New Testament is the same. He knows that Christ himself was a believer in the Devil, in evil spirits ; and that his principal business was casting out devils from the bodies of men and women. He knows that Christ himself, according to the New Testament, was not only tempted by the Devil, but was carried by his Satanic Highness to the top of the temple. If the New Testament is the inspired word of God, then I admit that these devils, these imps, do actually exist, and that they do take possession of human beings. To deny the existence of these evil spirits, to deny the existence of the Devil, is to deny the truth of the New Testament. To deny the existence of these imps of darkness is to contradict the words of Jesus Christ. If these devils do not exist, if they do not cause disease, if they do not tempt and mislead their victims, then Christ was an ignorant, superstitious man, insane, an impostor, or the New Testament is not a true record of what he said and what he pretended to do. If we give up the belief in devils, we must give up the inspiration ot the Old and New Testament. We must give up the divinity of Christ. To deny the existence of evil spirits is to utterly destroy the foundation of Christianity. There is no half-way ground. Compromise is impos­ sible. If all the accounts in the New Testament of casting out devils are false, what part of the Blessed Book is true ? As a matter of fact, the success of the Devil in the Garden of Eden made the coming of Christ a necessity, �i8 SUPERSTITION. laid the foundation for the Atonement, crucified the Savior, and gave us the Trinity. . If the Devil does not exist, the Christian creeds all crumble, and the superstructure known as “Christianity ” built by the fathers, by popes, by priests, and theologians—built with mistakes and falsehoods, with miracles and wonders, with blood and flame, with lies and legends borrowed from the savage world—becomes a shapeless ruin. If we give up the belief in devils and evil spirits, we are compelled to say that a witch never lived. No sensible human being now believes in witchcraft. We know that it was a delusion. We now know that thousands and thousands of innocent men, women, and children were tortured and burned for having been found guilty of an impossible crime ; and we also know, if our minds have not been deformed by faith, that all the books in which the existence of witches is taught were written by ignorant and superstitious men. We also know that the Old Testament asserted the existence of witches. According to that Holy Book, Jehovah was a believer in witchcraft, and said to his chosen people : “ Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.” This one commandment, this simple line, demon­ strates that Jehovah was not only not God, but that he was a poor, ignorant, superstitious savage. This one line proves beyond all possible doubt that the Old Testament was written by men, by barbarians. John Wesley was right when he said that to give up a belief in witchcraft was to give up the Bible. Give up the Devil, and what can you do with the book �S UPERSTITION *9 of Job ? How will you account for the lying spirits that Jehovah sent to mislead Ahab ? Ministers who admit that witchcraft is a superstition will read the story of the Witch of Endor—will read it in a solemn, reverential voice—with a theological voice—and will have the impudence to say that they believe it. It would be delightful to know that angels hover in the air ; that they guard the innocent, protect the good ; that they bend over the cradles and give health and happy dreams to pallid babes ; that they fill dungeons with the light of their presence, and give hope to the imprisoned ; that they follow the fallen, the erring, the outcasts, the friendless, and win them back to virtue, love, and joy. But we have no more evidence of the existence of good spirits than of bad. The angels that visited Abraham and the mother of Samson are as unreal as the ghosts and goblins of the Middle Ages. The angel that stopped the donkey of Balaam, the one who walked in the furnace flames with Meshech, Shadrack, and Abednego, the one who slew the Assyrians, and the one who, in a dream, removed the suspicions of Joseph, were all created by the imagination of the credulous, by the lovers of the marvellous, and they have been handed down from dotage to infancy, from ignorance to igno­ rance, through all the years. Except in Catholic countries, no winged citizen of the celestial realm has visited the world for hundreds of years. Only those who are blind to facts can see these beautiful creatures, and only those who reach conclusions without the assistance of evidence can believe in their existence. It is told that the great Angelo, in decorating a church, �20 SUPERSTITION. painted some angels wearing sandals. A cardinal, looking at the picture, said to the artist : “ Whoever saw angels with sandals ?” Angelo answered with another question : “ Whoever saw an angel bare­ footed ?” The existence of angels has never been established. Of course, we know that millions and millions have believed in seraphim and cherubim ; have believed that the angel Michael contended with the Devil for the body of Moses ; that angels shut the mouths of the lions for the protection of Daniel ; that angels ministered unto Christ, and that countless angels will accompany the Savior when he comes to take possession of the world. And we know that all these millions believe through blind, unreasoning faith, holding all evidence and all facts in theological contempt. But the angels come no more. They bring no balm to any wounded heart. Long ago they folded their pinions and faded from the earth and air. These winged guardians no longer protect the innocent ; no longer cheer the suffering; no longer whisper words of com­ fort to the helpless. They have become dreams— vanished visions. �SUPERSTITION. 21 V. In the dear old religious days the earth was flat—a little dishing, if anything—and just above it was Jehovah’s house, and just below it was where the Devil lived. God and his angels inhabited the third storey, the Devil and his imps the basement, and the human race the second floor. Then they knew where heaven was. They could almost hear the harps and hallelujahs. They knew where hell was, and they could almost hear the groans and smell the sulphurous fumes. They regarded the volcanoes as chimneys. They were perfectly acquainted with the celestial, the terrestrial, and the infernal. They were quite familiar with the New Jerusalem, with its golden streets and gates of pearl. Then the trans­ lation of Enoch seemed reasonable enough, and no one doubted that before the Flood the sons of God came down and made love to the daughters of men. The theologians thought that the builders of Babel would have succeeded if God had not come down and caused them to forget the meaning of w’ords. In those blessed days the priests knew all about heaven and hell. They knew that God governed the world by hope and fear, by promise and threat, by reward and punishment. The reward was to be eternal, �22 SUPERSTITION. and so was the punishment. It was not God’s plan to develop the human brain, so that man would perceive and comprehend the right and avoid the wrong. He taught ignorance nothing but obedience, and for obedi­ ence he offered eternal joy. He loved the submissive— the kneelers and crawlers. He hated the doubters, the investigators, the thinkers, the philosophers. For them he created the eternal prison where he could feed forever the hunger of his hate. He loved the credulous —those who believed without evidence ; and for them he prepared a home in the realm of fadeless light. He delighted in the company of the questionless. But where is this heaven, and where is this hell ? We now know that heaven is not just above the clouds, and that hell is not just below the earth. The telescope has done away with the ancient heaven, and the re­ volving world has quenched the flames of the ancient hell. These theological countries, these imagined worlds, have disappeared. No one knows, and no one pretends to know, where heaven is ; and no one knows, and no one pretends to know, the locality of hell. Now the theologians say that hell and heaven are not places, but states of mind—conditions. The belief in gods and devils has been substantially universal. Back of the good, man placed a god ; back of the evil, a devil; back of health, sunshine, and harvest was a good deity ; back of disease, misfortune, and death he placed a malicious fiend. Is there any evidence that gods and devils exist ? The evidence of the existence of a god and of a devil is substantially the same. Both of these deities are inferences ; each one is a perhaps. They have not �SUPERSTITION. 23 been seen—they are invisible—and they have not ventured within the horizon of the senses. The old lady who said there must be a devil, else how could they make pictures that looked exactly like him, reasoned like a trained theologian—like a doctor of divinity. Now, no intelligent man believes in the existence of a devil—no longer fears the leering fiend. Most people who think have given up a personal God, a creative deity. They now talk about the “ Unknown,” the “Infinite Energy”; but they put Jehovah with Jupiter. They regard them both as broken dolls from the nursery of the past. The men or women who ask for evidence—who desire to know the truth—care nothing for signs ; nothing for what are called wonders ; nothing for lucky or unlucky jewels, days or numbers ; nothing for charms or amulets ; nothing for comets or eclipses, and have no belief in good or evil spirits, in gods or devils. They place no reliance on general or special providence —on any power that rescues, protects, and saves the good, or punishes the vile and vicious. They do not believe that in the whole history of mankind a prayer has been answered. They think that all the sacrifices have been wasted, and that all the incense has ascended in vain. They do not believe that the world was created and prepared for man, any more than it was created and prepared for insects. They do not think it probable that whales were invented to supply the Eskimo with blubber, or that flames were created to attract and destroy moths. On every hand there seems to be evidence of design—design for the accomplish- �24 SUPERSTITION. ment of good, design for the accomplishment of evil. On every side are the benevolent and malicious—some­ thing toiling to preserve, something laboring to destroy. Everything surrounded by friends and enemies—by the love that protects, by the hate that kills. Design is as apparent in decay, as growth ; in failure, as success ; in grief, as joy. Nature with one hand building, with one hand tearing down, armed with sword and shield—slaying and protecting, and protecting but to slay. All life journeying towards death, and all death hastening back to life. Everywhere waste and economy, care and negligence. We watch the flow and ebb of life and death—the great drama that forever holds the stage, where players act their parts and disappear; the great drama in which all must act—ignorant and learned, idiotic and insane—without rehearsal and without the slightest knowledge of a part, or of any plot or purpose in the play. The scene shifts ; some actors disappear and others come, and again the scene shifts ; mystery everywhere. We try to explain, and the explanation of one fact contradicts another. Behind each veil removed, another. All things equal in wonder. One drop of water as wonderful as all the seas ; one grain of sand as all the world ; one moth with painted wings as all the things that live ; one egg from which warmth, in darkness, woos to life an organised and breathing form—a form with sinews, bones, and nerves, with blood and brain, with instincts, passions, thoughts, and wants—as all the stars that wheel in space. The smallest seed that, wrapped in soil, has dreams �SUPERSTITION. 25 of April rains and days of June withholds its secret from the wisest men. The wisdom of the world cannot explain one blade of grass, the faintest motion of the smallest leaf. And yet theologians, popes, priests, parsons, who speechless stand before the wonder of the smallest thing that is, know all about the origin of worlds, know when the beginning was, when the end will be, know all about the God who with a wish created all, know what his plan and purpose was, the means he uses and the end he seeks. To them all mysteries have been revealed, except the mystery of things that touch the senses of a living man. But honest men do not pretend to know ; they are candid and sincere ; they love the truth ; they admit their ignorance, and they say, “ We do not know.” After all, why should we worship our ignorance, why should we kneel to the Unknown, why should we prostrate ourselves before a guess ? If God exists, how do we know that he is good, that he cares for us? The Christians say that their God has existed from eternity; that he forever has been, and forever will be, infinite, wise, and good. Could this God have avoided being God? Could he have avoided being good ? Was he wise and good without his wish or will ? Being from eternity, he was not produced. He was back of all cause. What he is, he was, and will be, unchanged, unchangeable. He had nothing to do with the making or developing of his character. Nothing to do with the development of his mind. What he was, he is. He has made no progress. �26 SUPERSTITION. What he is, he will be; there can be no change. Why then, I ask, should we praise him ? He could not have been different from what he was and is. Why should we pray to him, he cannot change ? And yet Christians implore their God not to do wrong. The meanest thing charged against the Devil is that he leads the children of men into temptation, and yet, in the Lord’s Prayer, God is insultingly asked not to imitate the king of fiends. “ Lead us not into temptation.” Why should God demand praise ? He is as he was. He has never learned anything ; has never practised any self-denial ; was never tempted, never touched by fear or hope, and never had a want. Why should he demand our praise ? Does anyone know that this God exists; that he ever heard or answered any prayer ? Is it known that he governs the world ; that he interferes in the affairs of men ; that he protects the good or punishes the wicked ? Can evidence of this be found in the history of mankind ? If God governs the world, why should we credit him for the good and not charge him with the evil? To justify this God we must say that good is good, and that evil is also good. If all is done by this God, we should make no distinction between his actions—between the actions of the in­ finitely wise, powerful, and good. If we thank him for sunshine and harvest, we should also thank him for plague and famine. If we thank him for liberty, the slave should raise his chained hands in worship and thank God that he toils unpaid with the lash upon his �SUPERSTITION. naked back. If we thank him for victory, we should thank him for defeat. Only a few days ago our President, by proclamation, thanked God for giving us the victory at Santiago. He did not thank him for sending the yellow fever. To be consistent, the President should have thanked him equally for both. The truth is that good and evil spirits—gods and devils—are beyond the realm of experience ; beyond the horizon of our senses ; beyond the limits of our thoughts ; beyond imagination’s utmost flight. Man should think ; he should use all his senses ; he should examine ; he should reason. The man who cannot think is less than man ; the man who will not think is traitor to himself; the man who fears to think is superstition’s slave. �28 SUPERSTITION. VI. What harm does superstition do? What harm in believing in fables, in legends ? To believe in signs and wonders, in amulets, charms, and miracles, in gods and devils, in heavens and hells, makes the brain an insane ward, the world a madhouse, takes all certainty from the mind, makes experience a snare, destroys the kinship of effect and cause the unity of nature—and makes man a trembling serf and slave. With this belief a knowledge of nature sheds no light upon the path to be pursued. Nature becomes a puppet of the unseen powers. The fairy, called the supernatural, touches with her wand a fact; it disappears. Causes are barren of effects, and effects are independent of all natural causes. Caprice is king. The foundation is gone. The great dome rests on air. There is no constancy, in qualities, relations, or results. Reason abdicates, and superstition wears her crown. The heart hardens, and the brain softens. The energies of man are wasted in a vain effort to secure the protection of the supernatural. Credulity, ceremony, worship, sacrifice, and prayer take the place of honest work, of investigation, of intellectual effort, of observation, of experience. Progress becomes im­ possible. �SUPERSTITION. 29 Superstition is, always has been, and forever will be, the enemy of liberty. Superstition created all the gods and angels, all the devils and ghosts, all the witches, demons, and goblins, gave us all the augurs, soothsayers, and prophets, filled the heavens with signs and wonders, broke the chain of cause and effect, and wrote the history of man in miracles and lies. Superstition made all the popes, cardinals, bishops, and priests, all the monks and nuns, the begging friars and the filthy saints, all the preachers and exhorters, all the “called” and “set apart.” Superstition made men fall upon their knees before beasts and stones, caused them to worship snakes and trees and insane phantoms of the air, beguiled them or their gold and toil, and made them shed their children’s blood and give their babes to flames. Superstition built the cathedrals and temples, all the altars, mosques, and churches, filled the world with amulets and charms, with images and idols, with sacred bones and holy hairs, with martyrs’ blood and rags, with bits of wood that frighten devils from the breasts of men. Super­ stition invented and used the instruments of torture, flayed men and women alive, loaded millions with chains, and destroyed hundreds of thousands with fire. Superstition mistook insanity for inspiration, and the ravings of maniacs for prophesy, for the wisdom of God. Superstition imprisoned the virtuous, tortured the thoughtful, killed the heroic, put chains on the body, manacles on the brain, and utterly destroyed the liberty of speech. Superstition gave us all the prayers and ceremonies ; taught all the kneelings, genuflections, and prostrations ; taught men to hate themselves, to despise �30 SUPERSTITION. pleasure, to scar their flesh, to grovel in the dust, to desert their wives and children, to shun their fellow men, and to spend their lives in useless pain and prayer. Superstition taught that human love is degrading, low, and vile ; taught that monks are purer than fathers, that nuns are holier than mothers, that faith is superior to fact, that credulity leads to heaven, that doubt is the road to hell, that belief is better than knowledge, and that to ask for evidence is to insult God. Superstition is, always has been, and forever will be, the foe of progress, the enemy of education, and the assassin of freedom. It sacrifices the known to the unknown, the present to the future, this actual world to the shadowy next. It has given us a selfish heaven, and a hell of infinite revenge ; it has filled the world with hatred, war and crime, with the malice of meekness and the arrogance of humility. Superstition is the only enemy of science in all the world. Nations, races, have been destroyed by this monster. For nearly two thousand years the infallible agent of God has lived in Italy. That country has been covered with nunneries, monasteries, cathedrals, and temples— filled with all varieties of priests and holy men. For centuries Italy was enriched with the gold of the faithful. All roads led to Rome, and these roads were filled with pilgrims bearing gifts ; and yet Italy, in spite of all the prayers, steadily pursued the downward path, died and was buried, and would at this moment be in her grave had it not been for Cavour, Mazzini, and Garibaldi. For her poverty, her misery, she is indebted to the holy Catholic Church, to the infallible agents of God. For the life she has she is indebted to the enemies of super- �SUPERSTITION. 3i stition. A few years ago Italy was great enough to build a monument to Giordano Bruno Bruno, the victim of the “Triumphant Beast”;—Bruno, thesublimest of her sons. Spain was at one time owner of half the earth, and held within her greedy hands the gold and silver of the world. At that time all nations were in the darkness of superstition. At that time the world was governed by priests. Spain clung to her creed. Some nations began to think, but Spain continued to believe. In some countries priests lost power, but not in Spain. The power behind her throne was the cowled monk. In some countries men began to interest themselves in science, but not in Spain. Spain told her beads, and continued to pray to the Virgin. Spain was busy saving her soul. In her zeal she destroyed herself. She relied on the supernatural ; not on knowledge, but superstition. Her prayers were never answered. The saints were dead. They could not help, and the Blessed Virgin did not hear. Some countries were in the dawn of a 'new day, but Spain gladly remained in the night. With fire and sword she exterminated the men who thought. Her greatest festival was the aato da fe. Other nations grew great, while Spain grew small. Day by day her power waned, but her faith increased. One by one her colonies were lost, but she kept her creed. She gave her gold to superstition, her brain to priests ; but she faithfully counted her beads. Only a few days ago, relying on her God and his priests, on charms and amulets, on holy water and pieces of the true cross, she waged war against the great Republic. Bishops blessed her armies and �32 SUPERSTITION. sprinkled holy water on her ships, and yet her armies were defeated and captured, her ships battered, beached, and burned, and in her helplessness she sued for peace. But she has her creed ; her superstition is not lost. Poor Spain, wrecked by faith, the victim of religion ! Portugal, slowly dying, growing poorer every day, still clings to the faith. Her prayers are never answered, but she makes them still. Austria is nearly gone, a victim of superstition. Germany is travelling towards the night. God placed her Kaiser on the throne. The people must obey. Philosophers and scientists fall upon their knees and become the puppets of the divinely crowned. �SUPERSTITION. 33 VII. The believers in the supernatural, in a power superior to nature, in God, have what they call “ inspired books.” These books contain the absolute truth. They must be believed. He who denies them will be punished with eternal pain. These books are not addressed to human reason. They are above reason. They care nothing for what a man calls “facts.” Facts that do not agree with these books are mistakes. These books are inde­ pendent of human experience, of human reason. Our inspired books constitute what we call the “ Bible.” The man who reads this inspired book, look­ ing for contradictions, mistakes, and interpolations, imperils the salvation of his soul. While he reads he has no right to think, no right to reason. To believe is his only duty. Millions of men have wasted their lives in the study of this book—in trying to harmonise contradictions and to explain the obscure and seemingly absurd. In doing this they have justified nearly every crime and every cruelty. In its follies they have found the profoundest wisdom. Hundreds of creeds have been con­ structed from its inspired passages. Probably no two of its readers have agreed as to its meaning. Thou­ sands have studied Hebrew and Greek that they might read the Old and New Testament in the languages in �34 SUPERSTITION. which they were written. The more they studied, the more they differed. By the same book they proved that nearly everybody is to be lost, and that all are to be saved ; that slavery is a divine institution, and that all men should be free ; that polygamy is right, and that no man should have more than one wife ; that the powers that be are ordained of God, and that the people have a right to overturn and destroy the powers that be ; that all the actions of men were predestined—pre­ ordained from eternity, and yet that man is free ; that all the heathen will be lost ; that all the heathen will be saved ; that all men who live according to the light of nature will be damned for their pains ; that you must be baptised by sprinkling ; that you must be baptised by immersion ; that there is no salvation without baptism ; that baptism is useless ; that you must believe in the Trinity ; that it is sufficient to believe in God; that you must believe that a Hebrew peasant was God; that at the same time he was half man, that he was of the blood of David through his supposed father Joseph, who was not his father, and that it is not necessary to believe that Christ was God ; that you must believe that the Holy Ghost proceeded ; that it makes no difference whether you do or not; that you must keep the Sabbath holy ; that Christ taught nothing of the kind ; that Christ established a Church ; that he established no Church ; that the dead are to be raised ; that there is to be no resurrection ; that Christ is coming again ; that he has made his last visit; that Christ went to hell and preached to the spirits in prison ; that he did nothing of the kind ; that all the Jews are going to perdition ; that they are all going to heaven ; that all the miracles �SUPERSTITION. 35 described in the Bible were performed ; that some of them were not, because they are foolish, childish, and idiotic ; that all the Bible is inspired ; that some of the books are not inspired; that there is to be a general judgment, when the sheep and goats are to be divided ; that there never will be any general judgment ; that the sacramental bread and wine are changed into the flesh and blood of God and the Trinity ; that they are not changed ; that God has no flesh or blood ; that there is a place called “purgatory”; that there is no such place ; that unbaptised infants will be lost; that they will be saved ; that we must believe the Apostles’ Creed; that the apostles made no creed ; that the Holy Ghost was the father of Christ ; that Joseph was his father ; that the Holy Ghost had the form of a dove ; that there is no Holy Ghost; that heretics should be killed ; that you must not resist evil; that you should murder unbelievers ; that you must love your enemies ; that you should take no thought for the morrow, but should be diligent in business ; that you should lend to all who ask, and that one who does not provide for his own household is worse than an infidel. In defence of all these creeds, all these contradictions, thousands of volumes have been written, millions of sermons have been preached, countless swords reddened with blood, and thousands and thousands of nights made lurid with the faggot’s flames. Hundreds and hundreds of commentators have ob­ scured and darkened the meaning of the plainest texts, spiritualised dates, names, numbers, and even genealo­ gies. They have degraded the poetic, changed parables to history, and imagery to stupid and impossible facts. �36 SUPERSTITION. They have wrestled with rhapsody and prophecy, with visions and dreams, with illusions and delusions, with myths and miracles, with the blunders of ignorance, the ravings of insanity, and the ecstasy of hysterics. Millions of priests and preachers have added to the mysteries of the inspired book by explanation, by show­ ing the wisdom of foolishness, the foolishness of wisdom, the mercy of cruelty, and the probability of the impossible. The theologians made the Bible a master, and the people its slaves. With this book they destroyed intellectual veracity, the natural manliness of man. With this book they banished pity from the heart, subverted all ideas of justice and fairness, imprisoned the soul in the dungeon of fear, and made honest doubt a crime. Think of what the world has suffered from fear. Think of the millions who were driven to insanity. Think of the fearful nights—nights filled with phantoms, with flying, crawling monsters, with hissing serpents that slowly uncoiled, with vague and formless horrors, with burning and malicious eyes. Think of the fear of death, of infinite wrath, of ever­ lasting revenge in the prisons of fire, of an eternity of thirst, of endless regret, of the sobs and sighs, the shrieks and groans of eternal pain I Think of the hearts hardened, of the hearts broken, of the cruelties inflicted, of the agonies endured, of the lives darkened. The inspired Bible has been, and is, the greatest curse of Christendom, and will so remain as long as it is held to be inspired. �SUPERSTITION. 37 VIII. Our God was made by men, sculptured by savages who did the best they could. They made our God somewhat like themselves, and gave to him their passions, their ideas of right and wrong. As man advanced he slowly changed his God—took a little ferocity from his heart, and put the light of kindness in his eyes. As man progressed he obtained a wider view, extended the intellectual horizon, and again he changed his God, making him as nearly perfect as he could, and yet this God was patterned after those who made him. As man became civilized, as he became merciful, he began to love justice, and as his mind expanded his ideal became purer, nobler, and so his God became more merciful, more loving. In ,our day Jehovah has been outgrown. He is no longer the perfect. Now theologians talk, not about Jehovah, but about a God of love, call him the Eternal Father and the perpetual friend and providence of man. But, while they talk about this God of love, cyclones wreck and rend, the earthquake devours, the flood destroys, the red bolt leaping from the cloud still crashes the life out of men, and plague and fever still are tireless reapers in the harvest fields of death. They tell us now that all is good ; that evil is but �SUPERSTITION. blessing in disguise, that pain makes strong and virtuous men—makes character—while pleasure en­ feebles and degrades. If this be so, the souls in hell should grow to greatness, while those in heaven should shrink and shrivel. But we know that good is good. ’ We know that good is not evil, and that evil is not good. We know that light is not darkness, and that darkness is not light. But we do not feel that good and evil were planned and caused by a supernatural God. We regard them both as necessities. We neither thank nor curse. We know that some evil can be avoided, and that the good can be increased. We know that this can be done by increasing knowledge, by developing the brain. As Christians have changed their God, so they have accordingly changed their Bible. The impossible and absurd, the cruel and the infamous, have been mostly thrown aside, and thousands are now engaged in trying to save the inspired word. Of course, the orthodox still cling to every word, and still insist that every line is true. They are literalists. To them the Bible means exactly what it says. They want no explanation. They care nothing for commentators. Contradictions cannot disturb their faith. They deny that any contra­ dictions exist. They loyally stand by the sacred text, and they give it the narrowest possible interpretation. They are like the janitor of an apartment house who refused to rent a flat to a gentleman because he said he had children. “But,” said the gentleman, “my children are both married and live in Iowa.” “That makes no difference,” said the janitor; “I am �SUPERSTITION. 39 not allowed to rent a flat to any man who has children.” All the orthodox churches are obstructions on the highway or progress. Every orthodox creed is a chain, a dungeon. Every believer in the “ inspired book ” is a slave who drives reason from her throne, and in her stead crowns fear. Reason is the light, the sun, of the brain. It is the compass of the mind, the ever-constant Northern Star, the mountain peak that lifts itself above all clouds. �40 SUPERSTITION. IX. There were centuries of darkness when religion had control of Christendom. Superstition was almost universal. Not one in twenty thousand could read or write. During these centuries the people lived with their back to the sunrise, and pursued their way towards the dens of ignorance and faith. There was no progress, no invention, no discovery. On every hand, cruelty and worship, persecution and prayer. The priests were the enemies of thought, of investigation. They were the shepherds, and the people were their sheep ; and it was their business to guard the flock from the wolves of thought and doubt. This world was of no importance compared with the next. This life was to be spent in preparing for the life to come. The gold and labor of men were wasted in building cathedrals, and in supporting the pious and the useless. During these Dark Ages of Christianity, as I said before, nothing was invented, nothing was discovered, calcu­ lated to increase the well-being of men. The energies of Christendom were wasted in the vain effort to obtain assistance from the supernatural. For centuries the business of Christians was to wrest from the followers of Mohammed the empty sepulchre of Christ. Upon the altar of this folly millions of �5 UPERSTITION. 4i lives were sacrificed, and yet the soldiers of the impostor were victorious, and the wretches who carried the banner of Christ were scattered like leaves before the storm. There was, I believe, one invention during these ages. It is said that in the Thirteenth Century Roger Bacon, a Franciscan monk, invented gun­ powder ; but this invention was without a fellow. Yet we cannot give Christianity the credit, because Bacon was an infidel, and was great enough to say that in all things reason must be the standard. He was persecuted and imprisoned, as most sensible men were in those blessed days. The Church was triumphant. The sceptre and mitre were in her hands, and yet her success was the result of force and fraud, and it carried within itself the seeds of its defeat. The Church attempted the impossible. It endeavored to make the world of one belief ; to force all minds to a common form, and utterly destroy the individuality of man. To accomplish this it employed every art and artifice that cunning could suggest. It inflicted every cruelty by every means that malice could invent. But, in spite of all, a few men began to think. They became interested in the affairs of this world—in the great panorama of nature. They began to seek for causes, for the explanations of phenomena. They were not satisfied with the assertions of the Church. These thinkers withdrew their gaze from the skies and looked at their own surroundings. They were unspiritual enough to desire comfort here. They became sensible and secular, worldly and wise. What was the result ? They began to invent, to discover, to find the relation between facts, the �42 SUPERSTITION. conditions of happiness, and the means that would increase the well-being of their fellow men. Movable types were invented, paper was borrowed from the Moors, books appeared, and it became possible to save the intellectual wealth, so that each generation could hand it to the next. History began to take the place of legend and rumour. The telescope was invented. The orbits of the stars were traced, and men became citizens of the universe. The steam engine was con­ structed, and now steam, the great slave, does the work of hundreds of millions of men. The Black Art, the impossible, was abandoned, and chemistry, the useful, took its place. Astrology became astronomy. Kepler discovered the three great laws, one of the greatest triumphs of human genius, and our constellation became a poem, a symphony. Newton gave us the mathe­ matical expression of the attraction of gravitation. Harvey discovered the circulation of the blood. He gave us the fact, and Draper gave us the reason. Steamships conquered the seas, and railways covered the land. Houses and streets were lighted with gas. Through the invention of matches fire became the com­ panion of man. The art of photography became known ; the sun became an artist. Telegraphs and cables were invented. The lightning became a carrier of thought, and the nations became neighbours. An es­ thetics were discovered, and pain was lost in sleep. Surgery became a science. The telephone was invented -—the telephone that carries and deposits in listening ears the waves of words. The phonograph, that catches and retains in marks and dots and gives again the echoes of our speech. �SUPERSTITION. 43 Then came electric light that fills the night with day, and all the wonderful machines that use the subtle force—-the same force that leaps from the summer cloud to ravage and destroy. The Spectrum Analysis that tells us of the substance of the sun ; the Rontgen rays that change the opaque to the transparent. The great thinkers demonstrated the indestructibility of force and matter demon­ strated that the indestructible could not have been created. The geologist, in rocks and deposits and mountains and continents, read a little of the story of the world—of its changes, of the glacial epoch the story of vegetable and animal life. The biologists, through the fossil forms of life, established the antiquity of man, and demonstrated the worthlessness of Holy Writ. Then came evolution, the survival of the fittest, and natural selection. Thousands of mysteries were explained, and science wrested the sceptre from superstition. The cell theory was advanced, and embryology was studied ; the microscope discovered germs of disease, and taught us how to stay the plague. These great theories and discoveries, together with countless inventions, are the children of intellectual liberty. �44 SUPERSTITION. X. After all we know but little. In the darkness of life there are a few gleams of light. Possibly the dropping of a dishcloth prophesies the coming of company ; but we have no evidence. Possibly it is dangerous for thirteen to dine together ; but we have no evidence. Possibly a maiden’s matrimonial chances are determined by the number of seeds in an apple, or by the number of leaves on a flower ; but we have no evidence. Pos­ sibly certain stones give good luck to the wearer, while the wearing of others brings loss and death. Possibly a glimpse of the new moon over the left shoulder brings misfortune. Possibly there are curative virtues in old bones, in sacred rags and holy hairs, in images and bits of w’ood, in rusty nails and dried blood ; but the trouble is, we have no evidence. Possibly comets, eclipses, and shooting stars foretell the death of kings, the des­ truction of nations, or the coming of plague. Possibly devils take possession of the bodies and minds of men. Possibly witches, with the Devil’s help, control the winds, breed storms on sea and land, fill summer’s lap with frosts and snow, and work with charm and spell against the public weal ; but of this we have no evi­ dence. It may be that all the miracles described in the Old and New Testament were performed; that the �SUPERSTITION. 45 pallid flesh of the dead felt once more the thrill of life ; that the corpse arose and felt upon his smiling lips the kiss of wife and child. Possibly water was turned into wine, loaves and fishes increased, and possibly devils were expelled from men and women ; possibly fishes were found with money in their mouths ; possibly clay and spittle brought back the light to sightless eyes, and possibly words cured disease and made the leper clean ; but of this we have no evidence. Possibly iron floated, rivers divided, waters burst from dry bones, birds carried food to prophets, and angels flourished drawn swords ; but of this we have no evidence. Possibly Jehovah employed lying spirits to deceive a king, and all the wonders of the savage world may have .happened; but the trouble is there is no proof. So there may be a Devil, almost infinite in cunning and power, and he may have a countless number of imps whose only business is to sow the seeds of evil and to vex, mislead, capture, and imprison in eternal flames the souls of men. All this, so far as we know, is pos­ sible. All we know is that we have no evidence except the assertions of ignorant priests. Possibly there is a place called “ hell,” where all the devils live—a hell whose flames are waiting for all the men who think and have the courage to express their thoughts, for all who fail to credit priests and sacred books, for all who walk the path that reason lights, for all the good and brave who lack credulity and faith ; but of this, I am happy to say, there is no ' proof. And so there may be a place called “ heaven,” the �46 SUPERSTITION. home of God, where angels float and fly and play on harps, and hear with joy the groans and shrieks of the lost in hell; but of this there is no evidence. It all rests on dreams and visions of the insane. There may be a power superior to nature, a power that governs and directs all things ; but the existence of this power has not been established. In the presence of the mysteries of life and thought, of force and substance, of growth and decay, of birth and death, of joy and pain, of the sufferings of the good, the triumphs of wrong, the intelligent, honest man is compelled to say : “ I do not know.” But we do know how gods and devils, heavens and hells, have been made. We know the history of inspired books—the origin of religions. We know how the seeds of superstition were planted, and what made them grow. We know that all superstitions, all creeds, all follies and mistakes, all crimes and cruelties, all virtues, vices, hopes, and fears, all discoveries and inventions, have been naturally produced. By the light of reason we divide the useful from the hurtful, the false from the true. We know the past—the paths that man has travelled —-his mistakes, his triumphs. We know a few facts, a few fragments ; and the imagination, the artist of the mind, with these facts, these fragments, rebuilds the past, and on the canvas of the future deftly paints the things to be. We believe in the natural, in the unbroken and un­ breakable succession of causes and effects. We deny the existence of the supernatural. We do not believe in any God who can be pleased with incense, with �SUPERSTITION. 47 kneeling, with bell-ringing, psalm-singing, bead-count­ ing, fasting, or prayer—in any God who can be flattered by words of faith or fear. We believe in the natural. We have no fear of devils, ghosts, or hells. We believe that Mahatmas, astral bodies, materialisations of spirits, crystal gazing, seeing the future, telepathy, mind-reading, and Christian Science are only cunning frauds, the genuineness of which is established by the testimony of incompetent, honest witnesses. We believe that Cunning plates fraud with the gold of honesty, and veneers vice with virtue. We know that millions are seeking the impossible­ trying to secure the aid of the supernatural—to solve the problem of life—to guess the riddle of destiny, and to pluck from the future its secret. We know that all their efforts are in vain. We believe in the natural. We believe in home and fireside—in wife and child and friend—in the realities of this world. We have faith in facts—in knowledge—in the development of the brain. We throw away super­ stition and welcome science. We banish the phantoms, the mistakes, and lies, and cling to the truth. We do not enthrone the unknown and crown our ignorance. We do not stand with our backs to the sun and mistake our shadow for God. We do not create a master and thankfully wear his chains. We do not enslave ourselves. We want no leaders—no followers. Our desire is that every human being shall be true to himself, to his ideal, unbribed by promises, careless of threats. We want no tyrant on the earth or in the air. �48 SUPERSTITION. We know that superstition has given us delusions and illusions, dreams and visions, ceremonies and cruelties, faith and fanaticism, beggars and bigots, per­ secutions and prayers, theology and torture, piety and poverty, saints and slaves, miracles and mummeries, disease and death. We know that science has given us all we have of value. Science is the only civiliser. It has freed the slave, clothed the naked, fed the hungry, lengthened life, given us homes and hearths, pictures and books, ships and railways, telegraphs and cables, engines that tirelessly turn the countless wheels ; and it has destroyed the monsters, the phantoms, the winged horrors that filled the savage brain. Science is the real redeemer. It will put honesty above hypocrisy ; mental veracity above all belief. It will teach the religion of usefulness. It will destroy bigotry in all its forms. It will put thoughtful doubt above thoughtless faith. It will give us philosophers, thinkers, and savants, instead of priests, theologians, and saints. It will abolish poverty and crime, and, greater, grander, nobler than all else, it will make the whole world free. ��WORKS BY Col. INGERSOLL. Some Mistakes of Moses. Is Suicide a Sin ? 2d. The only complete edition in Last Words on Suicide. 2d. England. Accurate as Co- God and the State. 2d. lenso, and fascinating as a Why am I an Agnostic ? novel. 132 pp., is.; superior Part I. 2d. paper, cloth, is. 6d. Why am I an Agnostic ?’ Defence of Freethought. Part II. 2d. A Five Hours’ Speech at the Faith and Fact. Reply to Trial of C. B. Reynolds for Dr. Field. 2d. Blasphemy. 6d. God and Man. Second reply Shakespeare. 6d. to Dr. Field. 2d. The Dying Creed, ad. The Gods. 6d. The Limits of Toleration. The Holy Bible. 6d. A Discussion with the Hon. Reply to Gladstone. With F. D. Coudert and Gov. S. L. a Biography by J. M. Wheeler. Woodford. 2d. 4d. Rome or Reason ? A Reply The Household of Faith. 2d. to Cardinal Manning. 4d. Crimes against Criminals. Art and Morality. 2d. Do I Blaspheme ? 2d. 3<L Oration on Walt Whitman. The Clergy and Common Sense. 2d. 3dI Social Salvation. 2d. Oration on Voltaire. 3d. Marriage and Divorce. 2d. Abraham Lincoln. 3d. Skulls. 2d. Paine the Pioneer. 2d. Humanity’s Debt to Thomas 1 The Great Mistake, id. Live Topics, id. Paine. 2d. Ernest Renan and Jesus Myth and Miracle, id. Christ. 2d. Real Blasphemy, id. True Religion. 2d. Repairing the Idols, id. Three Philanthropists. 2d. Christ and Miracles, id. Love the Redeemer. 2d. Creeds and Spirituality, id. London : R. Forder, 28 Stonecutter-street, E.C. THE FREETHINKER, EDITED BY G. W. FOOTE, contributed to by leading Freethought ■writers. Published every Thursday. Price Twopence. Publisher: R. Forder, 28 Stonecutter-street, E.C. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Victorian Blogging Description An account of the resource A collection of digitised nineteenth-century pamphlets from Conway Hall Library &amp; Archives. This includes the Conway Tracts, Moncure Conway's personal pamphlet library; the Morris Tracts, donated to the library by Miss Morris in 1904; the National Secular Society's pamphlet library and others. The Conway Tracts were bound with additional ephemera, such as lecture programmes and handwritten notes.<br /><br />Please note that these digitised pamphlets have been edited to maximise the accuracy of the OCR, ensuring they are text searchable. If you would like to view un-edited, full-colour versions of any of our pamphlets, please email librarian@conwayhall.org.uk.<br /><br /><span><img src="http://www.heritagefund.org.uk/sites/default/files/media/attachments/TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" width="238" height="91" alt="TNLHLF_Colour_Logo_English_RGB_0_0.jpg" /></span> Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Conway Hall Library & Archives Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2018 Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Conway Hall Ethical Society Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Pamphlet Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Superstition : a lecture Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Ingersoll, Robert Green [1833-1899] Description An account of the resource Place of publication: London Collation: 49 p. ; 19 cm. Notes: Part of the NSS pamphlet collection. Works by Col. Ingersoll listed on back cover. Stamp for 'M. Steinberger, London, E.C.' on front cover. No. 74a (later ed. with 49 p.) in Stein checklist. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available R. Forder Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1899 Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context N400 Subject The topic of the resource Superstition Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a href="http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/"><img src="http://i.creativecommons.org/p/mark/1.0/88x31.png" alt="Public Domain Mark" /></a><span> </span><br /><span>This work (Superstition : a lecture), identified by </span><a href="https://conwayhallcollections.omeka.net/items/show/www.conwayhall.org.uk"><span>Humanist Library and Archives</span></a><span>, is free of known copyright restrictions.</span> Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource application/pdf Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Language A language of the resource English NSS Superstition