Skip to main content

Full text of "The Scottish review"


This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project 

to make the world's books discoverable online. 

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject 

to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books 

are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover. 

Marks, notations and other maiginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the 

publisher to a library and finally to you. 

Usage guidelines 

Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the 
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing tliis resource, we liave taken steps to 
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying. 
We also ask that you: 

+ Make non-commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for 
personal, non-commercial purposes. 

+ Refrain fivm automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine 
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the 
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help. 

+ Maintain attributionTht GoogXt "watermark" you see on each file is essential for in forming people about this project and helping them find 
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it. 

+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just 
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other 
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of 
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner 
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liabili^ can be quite severe. 

About Google Book Search 

Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers 
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web 

at |http: //books .google .com/I 



/i V 

■ » . 


^ > 

J j> 


,-> ^ 



' -y 

^^^^^H g 

> ■ 


/ '--1 


>\ : 



> ) .> 

1 y 


' 3 > 



> > 







"_:>' ) 



> J 


' 3. 

^ :> 


) 1^ 

^ ^ 


, , -\ 


■ > 


' _> ■ 


> i ' ,_ 

' J 

i > 



1 -> 

J f> 



< .1 .> 

D > 












i^ubHsbar tn 9er Majesty tba Queen, 





Alger, John G., Glimpses of the 
French Revolution, 423 

Antiquities of Cyprus, by Major 
C. R. Conder, LL.D., R.E., 126 

Archivio Storico per le Province 
Napolitane, 190 

L*Art, 193,404 

Athena, 399 


Badenoch, L. N., Romance of 
the Insect World, 429 

Baden-Powell, B. H., CLE., 
etc., A Short Account of the 
Land Revenue, etc., in Brit- 
ish Lidia, 222 

Bates, Katherine Lee, The Eng- 
lish Religious Drama, ... 219 

Biblioth^que Universelle et Re- 
vue Suisse, 199,408 

Blennerhasset, Rose, and Lucy 
Sleeman, Adventures in Ma- 
shonaland, 221 

Bourinot, J. G., C.M.G., etc.. 
Our Intellectual Strength 
and Weakness, 431 

Bury, J. B., The Great Palace 
of Constantinople, 251 

The Works and 

Days: a Study in Greek 
Realism, ... ... ... 31 


Campbell, James Dykes, Samuel 
Taylor Coleridge, ... ... 427 

Carpenter, Bishop, Twilight 
Dreams, ... ... ... 434 

Church, R. W., Village Sermons, 432 

Clark, Robert, F.R.S.E., etc., 
Golf, a Royal and Ancient 
vrame, ... ... ... ... ^^o 

Colville, James, The Complaynt 
of Scotlamle : a Tract for the 
Times, 90 

Conder, Major C. R., LL.D., 

R.E., Antiquities of Cyprus, 126 

Modem Moslems, .:. 344 

Crawford, J. H., Perthshire,... 321 
Creighton, Bishop, History of 
the Papacy during the Period 

of the Reformation, Vol. V., 419 

Crockett, S. R., The Raiders, 436 

Cultura, 190 


Davidson, William L., M.A., 
LL.D., Theism as Grounded 
in Human Nature, Histori- 
cally and Critically Handled, 
Burnett Lectures, 1892 and 
lotjj, ... ... ... ... ^Uu 

Deutsche Rundschau, 387 


Economista, 190 

Elliot, Frances, Old Court Life 

in France, 212 

Espana Modema, 200, 410 

Espinasse, Frances, Literary 

Recollections and Sketches, 217 


Fairbairn, A. M., D.D., Reli- 
gion in History and in Mo- 
dem Life, 417 

Ferguson, Lady, Life of the 
Rt. Rev. William Reeves, D.D., 424 


Gamier, Edouard, Dictionnaire 

de La Ceramique, 222 

Gids, De, 202,412 

Giornale degli Economisti, . . . 399 
Giornale Storico della Lettera- 

tura Italiana, 191 

Gordon, G. A., The Witness 
to Immortality, 434 



The Glospel according to S. 
Peter : a Study, by the Author 
of SupemcUural Religion, ... 

Gray, «fane Loring, Letters of 
^Lsa vrray , ... ... ... 

Gray, The late J. M., Scottish 
Arms and Tartans, 

Great Palace of Constantinople, 
The, by J. B. Bury, 

Green, J. R., M.A., Short His- 
tory of the English People, 
Illustrated Edition, Vol III., 

Gumlich, G. A., D.D., Christian 
Creeds and Confessions, trans- 
lated by L. A. Wheatly, ... 

Gwatkin, Prof. Hennr Melville, 
M.A., Selections from Early 
Writers Illustrative of Church 
History to the Time of Con- 



Hill, J. Hamlyn, B.D., The 
Earliest Life of Christ ever 
compiled from the Four Gos- 
pels: being the Diatessaron 
of Tatian, etc.; 

Hort, F. A., The Way the 
Truth the Life, 


Japp, A. H., LL.D., The Scot- 
tish Border, ... 

Jebb, R. C, M.P., etc., The 
Growth and Influence of 
Classical Greek Poetry, 

Johnston, James, M.D., Reality 
versus Romance in South Cen- 
tral Africa, 

Jubainville, H. D'Arbois de, 
Les Premiers Habitants de 
TEurope, Vol. II., 


Lyttleton, Hon. and Rev. A. 
T., College and University 


MacCallum, M. W., M.A., 
Tennyson's Idylls of the 
King, and Arthurian Story 
from the Sixteenth Century, 

Mackintosh, John, LL.D., The 
History of Civilization in 
Scotland, Vol. II., ... 

Marchmont and the Humes of 
Polwarth, by One of their 
Pescendants, ... 












Marshal Macmahon, by William 
O'Connor Morris, 

Maurice, F. D., The Acts of the 
Apostles, ... ... ... 

Medical Degrees, St. Andrews, 

Medical Schools of Scotland, 

Menzies, Allan, D.D., Spiel- 
mann Romances — Salman 
and Morolf, 

Millar, A. H., F. S.A.Scot., 
Sir Walter Scott, 

Modern Moslems, by Major C. 
R. Conder, R.E., 

Monde Latin et Monde Slave, 

Morris, William O'Connor, 
Marshal Macmahon, 

Moltke : a Biographi- 
cal and Critical Study, 

Napoleon, Warrior 

and Ruler, etc., 
Muir, Sir William, Life of 

Murray, James, A. H., LL.D., 

D.C.L., etc., A New English 

Dictionary on Historical 

Principles, Part viii., sect. 1, 
and Henry Bradlev, 

Hon. M.A., Do. (Everybody 

to Ezod), 












Nicholson, J. Shield, D.Sc, 
Principles of Political Economy, 429 

Nuova Antologia, 1 88, 397 

Nuova Rassegna, 191 


Perthshire, by J. H. Crawford, 321 


Rassegna Nazionale, 1 89, 39S 

Religions, Met^physie and Re- 
ligion, by R. M. Wenley, D.Sc, 143 

Revue Celtiqu e, 1 98, 40 1 

Revue des Deux Mondes, ... 1 92, 402 
Revue des Etudes Juives, ... 198, 404 
Revue de THistoire des Re- 
ligions, 194,400 

Revue Philosophique, 403 

Revue des Religions, 196,401 

Revue Semitique d* Epigra- 
phie et d'Histoire Ancienne, 195, 406 

Ri vista Egiziano, 399 

Ri vista Italiana de Filosophia, 191 

Rivista Marittima, 190 

Rivista delli Scienze Politiche 
e Sociale, 191 



Ei vista delle Tradizione Popo- 

lari Italiani 192 

Rooskahyah Mysl, 186, 396 


Scienza del Diritto Privato, ... 191 
Scotland, The Medical Schools of, 31 
Scotland and the Unionist Cause, 

by A Scottish Conservative, 364 
Scottish Arms and Tartans, by 

the late J. M. Gray, ... 269 

Scottish Border, The, by A. H. 

Japp, LL.D., 108 

Scottish Fiction of To-day, ... 42 

Sir Walter Scott, by A. H. 

Millar, F.S.A. Scot 224 

Spielmann Romances — Salman 

and Morolf , by Allan Menzies, 

\J » *J» ,... ... ... ... £tS\j 

St. Andrews Medical Degrees, 
byTNOMON, 380 

Stirling, James Hutchison, LL.D., 
Darwinianism: Workmen and 
Work, 428 


Theologische Studien und Eri- 

tiken, 176,390 

Theologisch Tijdschrift, . . .204, 414 
Tout, T. F., Edward the First, 434 


Voprosi Philosophii i Psycho- 
logii, 177,392 



Waddell, P. Hately, B.D., An 

Old Kirk Chronicle, 
Wenley, R. M., D.Sc, ReU- 

gions, Metaphysic and Religion, 143 
Westcott, Bishop, The Incarna- 
tion and Common Life, ... 417 
Westermanns Monats-Hefte, 388 

White, W. Hale, Spinoza's Ethic, 419 
Whittuck, Charles A., M.A., 

The Church of England and 

Recent Religious l^ought, 
Whyte, Alex., D.D., Bunyan 

Characters, Second Series, . . . 
Works and Days, The : a Study 

in Greek Realism, by J. B. 

A'UX J f * * * ••• ••• ••• 

Wright, Dr. William, The 
Brontes in Ireland, 





Zochler, Otto, A. O., Biblische 
u. Kirchenhistorische Stu- 
dien, Heften, I.-IV., 




JANUARY, 1894. 


ONE of the staple trades of Scotland is undoubtedly that of 
making doctors. During the five years 1888-92, there 
registered, as commencing their studies in her medical schools, 
3,327 medical students, and during the same period there were 
licensed over 3,000 practitioners of medicine, brand new, qua- 
lified and authorised by law to practise every branch of their 
profession, and each with the hall mark of one of her Uni- 
versities or licensing bodies. About one third of these were 
needed for home use, to make up the tear and wear among 
tlie existing doctors, and to supply the needs of the yearly 
increase of the Scottish population. * There remained about 
2,000 iFor export. It must be remembered that there are 
only 30,000 medical practitioners with British or Irish qualifica- 
tions alive at home and abroad, in practice and out of practice, 
and that the whole number of diplomated practitioners turned 
out of all the British and Irish Schools of Medicine has been 
6,630 during the past five years. Scotland, therefore, with only 
11 per cent, of the population of the United Kingdom, has sup- 
plied 45 per cent, of the new crops of doctors for the Empire. 
This is a fact of great interest not only to Scotsmen but also to 
the rest of the kingdom and to our Colonies, where so many of 
her medical graduates go. The general public has a very pro- 
found concern in this matter, far more than many persons realise. 
Any man, woman or child, in this Kingdom, or in our Colonies, 


2 The Medical Schools of Scotland, 

may be the better or the worse for the kind of medical educa- 
tion given in Scotland. Their life or death may depend on it. 
Apart from the mere technical questions connected with medical 
education^ the public, who are the doctors' masters, and for 
whose service they are created, should know the general prin- 
ciples on which that education is now conducted, and should be 
encouraged to interest themselves in many, even of the details of 
modern medical schooling. Nowadays, the more the public know 
about the basis of all technical and professional institutions the 
better. The more every father and mother of a family under- 
stands of the principles of medical education the better, for they 
are as responsible for the health of their children as for their 
morals ; and their sons and daughters may themselves want to 
become doctors. The more correct the knowledge every Member 
of Parliament, and indeed every member of a Town or County 
Council, has of the qualifications required for a good doctor, the 
better it will be for the profession of medicine and for the public, 
whose health and well-being he is bound to conserve. When a 
man gets a diploma entitling him to practise medicine, he 
receives many valuable privileges with the view of his doing 
many responsible duties to the public. The profession of medi- 
cine is now urgently claiming a voice in framing sanitary and 
other laws ; and it is the natural vehicle through which many of 
these laws, when passed, are carried out for the benefit of the 
community. The public should know not only how the doctor 
of to-day is made, but should understand to some extent the 
evolution of modern medical education. The medical student 
of 1893 has to study many things not required of his predecessor 
of 1883 ; and the methods and scope of his education have 
totally changed in manner and degree during the past forty years. 
Within twelve months an extra year has been added compul- 
sorily to his period of study before he is allowed to come up to 
any examining board for a diploma, that is 25 per cent, to the 
four years needed previously — one fourth more in effort and 
cost — and a deduction of one thirtieth off his average money earn- 
ing period of life. This means that the ideal of medical educa- 
tion has risen, and that its practical requirements have greatly 
expanded in recent years. 

The Medical Schools of Scotland. 3 

Let any one, when his life is in the balance, try to realise what 
he would like his doctor to be and to know. It does not need a 
vivid imagination in any man to conceive how ranch may depend 
on his doctor's knowledge, on his skill, and on his experience. It is 
a trite question, ' What is life without health ? ' Few persons but 
have had its truth vividly before their minds when in pain or 
weakness. One's doctor may make all the difference whether 
life is worth living or not. He is welcome when no one 
else is admitted. Not only his knowledge and skill and practical 
resource, but his tone of mind, his honour, his courage, his sym- 
pathy and his innate power of inspiring confidence, may make a 
vast difference to any of us, a difference it may be between sanity 
and insanity, between penury and competence, or even between 
life and death. Few realise how much they are dependent on 
the sense of duty and the honour of the doctor apart from his 
professional skill. What do they know about the effects of the 
powerful drugs he gives ? How can they detect or counteract 
his mistakes ? Their bodies and their lives are in his hands far 
more absolutely than are the lives and fortunes of his subjects 
in the power of any Eastern despot. From the public point of 
view the profession of medicine is filling year by year a larger 
space. The community is looking to it for more light and lead- 
ing about sanitation, about education, about the choice of occu- 
pations and professions for youngTpeople, about how to keep well 
and happy. Practical questions connected with heredity loom 
in the near future. Well might Mr. Gladstone say that of all 
the professions it is the one which is in the ascendant at present. 
Mr. Disraeli did not without cause construct his epigram 
* Sanitas sanitatum omnia sanitas^ as being the question of 
questions at present. Lord Salisbury has lately added his em- 
phatic concurrence as to the power and usefulness of the medical 
profession in modern life. 

Let any intelligent man try to picture an ideal doctor, and, 
though hs will not succeed, for he does not know enough of the 
requirements, he will soon realise what an efficient medical edu- 
cation means, and the manner of men who should have the edu- 
cation of the doctor of the future. Let any man get and place 
before himself a series of the text books of to-day in the various 

4 The Medical SehooU of Scotland. 

subjects that must be studied by the medical student, and glance 
through them sufRciently to see the multiplicity and variety of 
the knowledge contained in these books, and he will have no 
doubt whatever that to master these subjects in any sense must 
require the best five years of any life. He will find that a 
minimum of 10,000 octavo pages of close print must be read, 
marked, and digested. If he then tries to imagine that every 
one of those great volumes only contains the theory and the 
word-description, while the practice and the real knowledge of 
its subject must be obtained in the dissecting room, the laboratory, 
the hospital, the dispensary, the s!ck room of the poor, and the 
asylum, he will be verily appalled by the task before every young 
man and woman beginning the study of medicine. There is not 
one of those subjects but takes the whole undivided time of many 
experts of great mental energy to cultivate it. Anatomy, which 
deals with the form and relations of all the organs and structures 
of the body, from the largest to those that need a microscope of 
high power to see; physiology, the science of normal life and 
function, and pathology, the science of abnormal life, structure 
and function, are the three great basal sciences on which the 
doctor's whole superstructure of professional knowledge and 
practice must rest. The knowledge in regard to the two last, 
physiology and pathology, are in a continual state of advance 
and flux, so that the text books of ten years ago are antiquated 
to-day. The proper study of these implies a mind eager to 
question, and, if possible, to penetrate the occult secrets of life 
that have fascinated and puzzled the greatest minds among 
mankind in all civilized ages. Surgery and medicine, the 
technical parts of his course, are different and wide domains of 
knowledge, yet the student has to know them, or he can be of 
no service at all. All the ' ills that flesh is heir to ' are there 
depicted, so that in the hospital and by the bed-side they 
may be diagnosed and treated. Knowledge and modes of 
treatment, and technique too, are ever advancing and changing, 
and his teachers, year by year, must advance. Most surgical 
operations are very different procedures now from what they 
were twenty years ago. Midwifery, and the diseases peculiar to 
women and children, must be studied carefully, for they form a 

The Medical Schools of Scotland, 5 

large part of every medical man's practice. The * specialties,' 
diseases of the eye, the ear, the throat, the mind and fevers, all 
claim some attention, and all are pushing their importance on 
him. Let any man go with a doctor in busy general practice, 
for a week, and see what he has to do each day, and the problems 
he has to solve, and we venture to say that he will be amazed at 
the extent of the practical skill and scientific knowledge called 
into exercise, and will be surprised that even in a five years 
course of instruction he could have acquired it all. He has daily 
to see from 20 to 40 patients, almost all suffering from different 
complaints ; his advice is asked about a dozen questions in each 
case, each needing wisdom as well as knowledge. His memory is 
crammed with secrets which he must not in honour divulge. To 
say that he must be a man of high moral tone is a truism. He 
must, in addition to common morality, have that delicacy of mind 
and that healthiness of moral constitution to which pruriency 
and smallness are absolutely unknown. His very presence 
should abash certain evil modes of lookinc; at things. His whole 
life should be a public and private example. 

If any one will take a good Annual Report of an ordinary 
Medical Officer of Health of a County, and peruse it carefully, 
he will see what a medical education means in that direction. 
The topography of the County, the climate, the rainfall, the 
occupation of the inhabitants, the diseases they are subject to, 
and that they die of ; the kind of houses they live in ; the 
epidemics that have been prevalent, with the modes of isolating 
and arresting their progress, are all treated of. Such documents 
freely circulated and read are one of the very best popular 
sources of education in health and sanitation. The Reports of 
the Medical Officer of the Privy Council, and the Reports of the 
Registrar General, are documents of supreme importance to the 
community. They are often marvels of industry, of patient 
searching out of causes of disease, and of profound scientific 
reasoning. They all depend on the knowledge modem medicine 
has given us, and are all written for the good of the public. 
They often treat of the effect of environment on health in a way 
that is most instructive to legislators. The mere enumeration of 
the different death-rates among the various trades and professions, 

<) The Medical Schools of Scotland, 

with a medical commentary on the causes of the great differences 
that are found to exist, touches questions that affect every man 
who has his living to earn, and some of the people who are so 
unfortunate as to be idle. Some of the Blue Books, such as the 
Report of the Board of Supen'ision and the Report of the Com- 
mi<isioners in Lunacy, are full of medical facts, needing inter- 
pretation to the public for their info>*mation and guidance. In 
all these documents, and their value to the nation, medical 
education plays a part. 

lu any account of the medical schools of Scotland, that of 
Edinburgh must stand out above all the others, overshadowing 
them by her marvellous success, and having influenced them all 
by her example and through having sent to them men imbued by 
her spirit and trained in her class rooms to be their most success- 
ful teachers. Her spirit has gradually pervaded the other 
schools, so that in their modern history they all may be truly 
said to be her children. With her 2,000 medical students, drawn 
from every quarter of the world, only about 45 per cent, of them 
beini; Scottish, her yearly output of 450 medical graduates and 
licentiates, her list of illustrious medical teachers, investigators and 
authors, and her position as the second or third medical school in the 
world in number of students, the gray metropolis of the North 
may well be proud of what she has achieved in the past and is 
now doing for medicine, and through it, for humanity. Edin- 
burgh had no special advantages for developing a great medical 
school, such as the endowed hospitals of London gave the metro- 
polis. She gradually, almost tentatively, produced a system of 
teaching largely her own, and she has always had an abundance 
of earnest and enthusiastic men to devote their lives and best 
energies to teaching, and to hand on the torch from one genera- 
tion to another. Medical teaching in Edinburgh did not begin 
in the University, and has never been confined to the University, 
yet for a century and a half the University has been its centre. 
The Colleges of Surgeons and Physicians both began the teaching 
of Anatomy, Surgery, and Medicine before any Medical Faculty 
existed in the University, or any real medical teaching existed 
there. Eight of the Medical Chairs were instituted at the in- 
stance of the Royal Colleges. The Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh, 


The Medical Schools of Scotland. 7 

which has been the great clinical centre of instruction, without 
which there never could have been an Edinburirh Medical School, 
was founded by the College of Physicians, Lord Provost 
Druinmond, and the first Monro, in 1736. No doubt there 
were Professors of Medicine in 1685, but no practical teaching 
was done in the University till the first Monro was made Pro- 
fessor of Anatomy and Surgery in 1720. It was a happy com- 
bination of five institutions in Edinburgh that created its 
Medical School. The Colleges of Surgeons and Physicians, the 
Infirmary, the University, and the Town Council, by their common 
efforts, by their rivalries, by their combinations and by their 
competitions have unquestionably done so, so far as institutions 
apart from men can be said to create anything. And, as we shall 
see, the absence of any single guiding and regulating authority 
gave a spirit of freedom and of spontaneity that has really been 
one great source of its life. The struggle for existence in nature 
has been repeated in Edinburgh with happy effect to its medical 
teaching. The strong have lived and established themselves, 
while the weak have gone to the wall; and there have always been 
successive crops of vigorous youth to strive for mastery over each 
other, and to take the place of the old. In Anatomy, the 
foundation of medical study, a series of men of extraordinary 
ability and fitness have followed each other in the University 
and outside its walls. The story of the two first Monros, as told 
by Dr. Struthers in his Edinburgh Anatomical School, is a very 
remarkable one. Of a good Scotch family, John Monro, a man 
of high professional and social position, a surgeon in Edinburgh, 
trained his son, Alexander Monro, from his boyhood for the 
Anatomy Chair. He was sent to London and Paris, and Leyden, 
and on his return was elected by the Town Council to the Chair 
of Anatomy when 22 years of age. The Town Council had, in 
the dark age of Scotland, in 1505, made provision for the dissec- 
tion of the human body — a wonderful example of farseeing wis- 
dom. The first Monro had a most distinguished career as 
a teacher, a practitioner in the city, an author and an 
original investigator. He trained his youngest son, Alexander, 
* Monro Secundus,' to follow in his footsteps. He became as 
great a teacher and auth« r as his father. The father began with 

8 The Medical Schools of Scotland. 

57 students ; the son ended with 400. So great had the fame 
of Edinburgh as a teaching school of medicine become bj the 
end of last century. 

Goodsir, a man of real genius, caught up the new ideas of 
the German anatomists, and of Owen, and extended their scope. 
He was not content to describe what could be seen by the naked 
eye, but used the microscope as a part of his ordinary class in- 
struction, and did not confine his investigation to structure only, 
but was always asking what form and structure meant when in 
vital action. He was thus one of the founders of Modern 
Physiology. Then came Turner, when still more thorough and 
systematic teaching was needed; when, through the enormous in- 
crease of the number of students, a new department was required 
for the subject, with a new and more thorough organisation and 
administration. This remarkable succession of teachers within 
the University was not the only source of instruction in the sub- 
ject in Edinburgh. The Colleges of Surgeons and Physicians 
originally established teachers in various subjects, but in time 
other men wished to teach and were encouraged to do so. So 
that there sprang up outside of the University, teachers in this 
and all other medical subjects. In 1855, on Professor Syme's 
initiative, and after a severe fight, these lectures were accepted 
by the University as being of equal value to the teaching of the 
professors, to the extent of four classes out of the whole curricu- 
lum. This was called at first ' The Extra Mural,' or ' Extra 
Academical School,' and now ' The Edinburgh School of Medi- 
cine.' Any man who satisfies the Colleges that he can lecture, 
and has the means of proper teaching is allowed to do so. As 
many as like can lecture on the same subject. If the professor 
gets old, or lazy, or inefficient, the students can go, and do go, 
to the extra mural teacher. A healthy rivalry and stimulus 
were thus established. There are often 4;hree or four teachers 
of Anatomy, and five or six teachers of Surgery and Medicine. 
The system allows any man to try his power. If he succeeds he 
gets students and an income, and has a good chance for the pro- 
fessorship when it becomes vacant. That, indeed, is commonly 
his goal. If a professorship of his subject falls vacant in another 
Scotch or Irish University, or great English School, he has 

The Medical Schools of Scotland. 9 

already proved his fitness and often gets the appointment. 
Thus in Anatomy, when Monro tertius was getting old and 
decadent, Bell, Barclay and Knox, as outside teachers, taught 
the students, while the .Anatomical School has sent out to other 
schools as anatomists or surgeons — the two subjects were so 
closely connected early in the century that one man often taught 
both — Sharpey, Allen Thompson, Ferguson, Lister, Struthers, 
Cleland, Cunningham, Thomson, Symington, and many more. 
When a man could get no students or lost the Chair he was 
aiming at, he often quietly retired and no more was heard of him. 
The system is one of unlimited competition, and giving a 
chance to every man who imagines he has a vocation to teach. 
But it may be said that this is a very unseemly scramble for 
students and their fees, and is unacademic in its tradesmanlike 
pushing of business. No doubt both these results sometimes 
happen ; but we must take the bad with the good in every 
system, and up to this time and in this country no other has 
proved itself to have half the vitality or to produce anything like 
the good lesults this has done. The system of salaried Privai- 
Docenten and graded professorships in Germany, of graded pro- 
motion in France, of fellowships in the English Universities, and 
of a mukiplicity of small appointments in the medical schools of 
the hospitals of London and Dublin, all have their advantages, 
but the Edinburgh system seemed to suit the northern soil, and 
it was one of spontaneous growth very like nature's processes. It 
must be kept in mind when estimating the system, that in Edin- 
burgh the professors derived their incomes chiefly from their 
students' fees, and in proportion as these students were attracted 
to the extra mural teachers the professor s income fell off. It 
was a system therefore of every man for himself, and starvation 
to the hindermost, in and out of the University. No other school 
has adopted the same system. It is unique in the world. The 
new Universities Commission have, by their recent ordinances, 
seriously modified .the competitive aspects of the system so far as 
the professors are concerned. They are in future to have an 
irreducible minimum salary and a fixed maximum. Starvation is 
not to follow incompetency, the slothful professor is not to come 
to want, and a brilliant success is no longer to lead to fortune. 

10 The Medical Schoole of Scotland, 

Professorial human nature is thus to be deprived of two strong 
motives to exertion, and there will be an undoubted risk of a 
standard of work being fixed to suit the pay. Duty, scientific 
ambition, academic pride will still be left as motives to hard 
work ; high thinking and plain living, being compulsory. Time 
only will show whether the teacher of the future will work as hard 
when a legitimate sordidness has been thus eliminated We have 
taken the subject of Anatomy to illustrate the Edinburgh system. 
In almost all the other subjects the same general history applies. 
It would be beyond the limits of this article to enumerate the 
galaxy of great medical names that the Edinburgh school has 
produced during the past 150 years in every department. Men 
of genius and men of great talents have abounded. In Physio- 
logy, Bennett and Rutherford ; in Physic, the two Gregorys, 
CiiUen, Alison, Laycock, Bennett, Begbie, Stewart, Greenfield, 
Balfour, Bramwell, Wyllie, James, Afileck, and Gairdner ; in 
Surgery, John Bell, Sir Charles Bell, Syme, Liston, and Lister, 
Duncan, Annandale, Bell, Watson, and Chiene; in Materia 
Medica, Duncan, Christison, and Eraser; in Midwifery and 
Gyneocolofry, the Hamiltons, the Simpsons, Keith, Matthews 
Duncan, Crooni, Berry Hart, and Barbour, are names of European 
reputation that have attracted students from all over the world, and 
raised to a high pitch the fame of the Edinburgh School. It is 
trulv remarkable that in Medicine so brilliant a combination of 
men should have arisen in so remote a corner of Europe. No 
doul)t it was partly due to the system of open competition in 
teaching, but also largely to the fact that men devoted them- 
selves to teaching as their great aim and highest professional 
ambition, and that a practical subject like Medicine seems attrac- 
tive to the Scottish mind. There is spmething due to the fact 
that the profession of Medicine is free to all men, is hampered by 
no artificial obstructions, and is open to men of small means, 
and that when men enter it they have a fair field and no 
favour. The number of Edinburgh men that have risen 
to the hishest eminence in London have been innumerable. 
The steps through which the Edinburgh School has passed 
through her chief stages of evolution have been; first the demon- 
strative teaching of Anatomy and Surgery by the Monros, then 

The Medical Schooh of Scotland. 13 

incisive thrusts at Miller, and Lay cock's supercilious references 
to Bennett's crass ignorance. But such personalities seemed to 
add interest to the hour's lecture, and to leave no abiding harm. 
There can be no doubt that the system and the men in Edinburgh 
produced hard and enthusiastic students, well grounded in 
scientific methods, and fairly equipped for practice. They for 
the most part acquired a high professional tone and a largeness 
of mental vision that raised them above the mere giver of 
medical services in return for the proper fees. They had some 
of the divine love of knowledge for its own sake, and thereby 
breathed a purer air than mere professionals do. The school was 
fortunate in having its teachers come in many cases from good 
old Scotch families who gave a high social tone to the profes- 
sion and secured for it a position in the city equal to any other 

Tliere are two great recent departments of medicine where Edin- 
burgh has not taken the lead, and, indeed, has scarcely followed the 
English and Continental lead so quickly as she ought. Those 
departments are, preventive medicine and bacteriology. The 
City of Edinburgh, to her enormous credit, took the lead of evei*y 
city in the world, under the guidance of Dr. Littlejohn, her 
Medical Officer of Health, in getting a local Act, whereby the 
medical men were obliged to notify to a central authority every 
case of infectious disease they were called on to treat. But the 
great preachers of pure air and water and plenty of them, clean 
drains, of healthy airy workshops and factories, were found in 
England, not in Scotland at first. 

To sum up — there are such obvious advantages in certain ways 
in the Edinburgh system that they have merely to be stated to be 
recognised. In addition to giving every man an opportunity of 
teaching, to the general stimulus of keen competition, to the 
provision for efficient teaching when a professor is getting old 
and past his best, to the training of men for professorships ; there 
are other less considered advantages. It provides that the unfit 
as teachers are found to be unfit, and they retire. There is 
little or no temptation for either Professor or Lecturer to hold 
on beyond his period of efficiency. It provides too in the extra 
academical school for Lectureships on new subjects not in the 

12 The Medical Schools of Scotland. 

Besides the directly good effect of developing the students' 
faculties of observation and inductive i*easoning the preliminary 
whiff of science all had to take gave a tone which was of high 
value to them. It redeemed the merely money-earning aspect 
of their craft, and helped to form an ideal of life in their youth- 
ful enthusiastic minds that soared beyond merely professional 
success. How few Edinburgh men have not, when in their first 
years of study, suffocated their landladies bv the chemical fumes 
from all too primitive apparatus ; or formed a herbarium in the 
summer vacation ; or dug for geological specimens for live-long 
summer days in lonely quarries ; or formed an inchoate collection 
of badly stuffed monstrosities intended to be a natural history 
museum ! He did not then know it, but to the student's mental and 
moral nature, this short pursuit of the natural sciences before he 
settled down to his hard life's work, conveyed some breath of 
sweetness and light that never thereafter left him. Few of the 
great medical teachers of Edinburgh have been Doctors or 
Surgeons, and nothing more. Christison and Maclagan became 
Presidents of the Edinburgh Royal Society ; Simpson began his 
lectures on midwifery with a course on embryology, and was 
besides a learned and enthusiastic antiquary. Laycock could 
meet the psychologists on their own ground, and to a certain 
extent anticipated Darwin in his doctrine of Evolution, and 
Spencer in his philosophy. Lister is combined physiologist, 
chemist, pathologist, and bacteriologist. By such powerful 
influences and examples was the Edinburgh medical student 
widened and liberalised in his mental horizon all through his 

The professional and social tone of the scliool was high too in 
regard to money, to professional etiquette, and to a doctor's whole 
relation to his patient. A high standard was inculcated, and a 
good example was set. No doubt, one professor or lecturer 
would be at deadly feud with another, and made no secret of 
this to his class. It was a common thing for the student to hear 
Bennett ridicule and denounce in strong and picturesque language 
Alison's treatment of pneumonia one hour, and the next hear 
Christison, at the bed-side, contemptuously sneer at Bennett's 
doctrinaire ideas and practice ; to listen with delight to Synie's 

The Medical Schools of Scotland. 13 

incisive thrusts at Miller, and Laycock's supercilious references 
to Bennett's crass ignorance. But such personalities seemed to 
add interest to the hour's lecture, and to leave no abiding harm. 
There can be no doubt that the system and the men in Edinburgh 
produced hard and enthusiastic students, well grounded in 
scientific methods, and fairly equipped for practice. They for 
the most part acquired a high professional tone and a largeness 
of mental vision that raised them above the mere giver of 
medical services in return for the proper fees. They had some 
of the divine love of knowledge for its own sake, and thereby 
breathed a purer air than mere professionals do. The school was 
fortunate in having its teachers come in many cases from good 
old Scotch families who gave a high social tone to the profes- 
sion and secured for it a position in the city equal to any other 

Tliere are two great recent departments of medicine where Edin- 
burgh has not taken the lead, and, indeed, has scarcely followed the 
English and Continental lead so quickly as she ought. Those 
departments are, preventive medicine and bacteriology. The 
City of Edinburgh, to her enormous credit, took the lead of evei^ 
city in the world, under the guidance of Dr. Littlejohn, her 
Medical Officer of Health, in getting a local Act, whereby the 
medical men were obliged to notify to a central authority every 
case of infectious disease they were called on to treat. But the 
great preachers of pure air and water and plenty of them, clean 
drains, of healthy airy workshops and factories, were found in 
England, not in Scotland at first. 

To sum up — there are such obvious advantages in certain ways 
in the Edinburgh system that they have merely to be stated to be 
recognised. In addition to giving every man an opportunity of 
teaching, to the general stimulus of keen competition, to the 
provision for efficient teaching when a professor is getting old 
and past his best, to the training of men for professorships ; there 
are other less considered advantages. It provides that the unfit 
as teachers are found to be unfit, and they retire. There is 
little or no temptation for either Professor or Lecturer to hold 
on beyond his period of efficiency. It provides too in the extra 
academical school for Lectureships on new subjects not in the 


14 The Medical Schools of Scotland. 

curriculum, but which will be useful to many students. In this 
way, long before they were taken up by the University, the 
students could obtain instruction in diseases of children, eye 
diseases and mental diseases, in diseases of the ear and throat, 
in diagnosis, in climatology, in medical electricity, skin diseases 
and fevers. These are taught by experts, often outside the 
Univei*sity, and by young lecturers who are anxious to work and 
prove their capacity as teachers. Medicine and Surgery are both 
perhaps tending to split up into specialisms too much, especially 
in London, but some of the greatest advances have been made of 
late years through the principle of one able man devoting him- 
self to a special department and sticking to that alone. The 
range of knowledge is getting too large for most men to master 
the whole, so a part is selected and worked out thoroughly. 

Two vast building schemes have been undertaken and accom- 
plished in Edinburgh in connection with its Medical School 
within the past thirty years. The Royal Infirmary was re-built 
on a new site at a cost of £350,000, and became the greatest and 
best equipped hospital in the kingdom. In 1874 the University 
determined to re-house its Medical School, and to build and pro- 
vide for it class-rooms, museums, laboratory and teaching appli- 
ances, such as no British school as yet possessed. Partly by 
subscription among the friends of the University, and partly by 
a grant from Parliament, the present magnificent new buildings 
were erected at a cost of £230,000, and were opened in 1884. 

Next to Edinburgh as a Medical School comes Glasgow. Its 
history is in many respects similar to that of the capital, with 
certain distinctive features. In the beginning of last century 
Glasgow University had no Professor of Medicine to examine a 
candidate for the degree of M.D., and had to call in for this 
purpose two doctors in practice in the city. In 1712 a Chair of 
Anatomy was established. But real teaching only commenced 
in 1746, when CuUen began to lecture outside the University 
with the sanction of the Professor. A Chair of Practice of 
Medicine was foiinded for him in 1751. His power as a teacher 
brought him students, among whom was Joseph Black, who 
afterwards in succession held the Chairs of Chemistry and 
Anatomy and of Practice of Medicine, and added greatly to the 

The Medical Schools of Scotland, 15 

fame of the University and to the number of its medical studcMits. 
It was not, however, till the Glasgow Royal Infirmary was 
founded in 1794 that the medical teaching there became com- 
])lete in principle. Without an hospital for Clinical instruction 
u Medical School in any proper sense cannot exist any more 
than a School of Art without living models, or a religion without 
a moral code. Glasgow, like Edinburgh, has owed much to 
competition in medical teaching ; but the competition arose and 
now exists in a different way from that which exists in Edin- 
burgh. The Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons, like the Royal 
Colleges of Edinburgh, actively promoted medical teaching in 
and outside of the University before it was taken up there. It 
claims for itself truly that the earliest medical teaching was 
given under its auspices. Anderson's College began medical 
teaching in 1799, and it has continued it ever since, producing 
raanv men of eminence, a laroje number of whom have received 
promotion to Chairs in the University. It has been a nursery 
for University Professors all along. It is a cheap school and has 
given a chance of a medical education to poor men like Living- 
stone, the great African explorer. It will be an evil day for 
Scotland when poor men cannot attain professional or higher 
education through its being too expensive. Medical education 
has now come to cost a large sum. In London, the ' Student's 
Number* of the Brituh Medical Journal^ iov September 1893, 
puts down the minimum cost at the cheapest schools there, great 
economy being exercised in living, at £587, while in the provin- 
cial schools of England it is put down at £500. Now that is a 
sum which would have been absolutely prohibitive to very many 
Scotsmen who have greatly honoured the profession and bene- 
fited humanity by their work. We have no doubt that at the 
School of Medicine in Edinburgh, or at Anderson's College, or 
St. Mungo's, or at Aberdeen, a young man, by stern economies, 
which will do him no harm in the long run, could enter the 
medical profession for between £300 and £400. Since the 
University moved from the Old College Buildings to the mag- 
nificently appointed palace at Gilmorehill, and the New Western 
Infirmary was put beside it, four other schools of medicine have 
arisen in Glasgow, The Royal Infirmary, when most of the 

16 The Medical Schools of Scotland. 

University students went to the Western Infirmary, at once 
utilised its great clinical field by establishing a special school of 
its own ; and within the past five years St. Mungo's College has 
arisen with a full teaching staff and with fees only amounting to 
£50 over the five years of study. A Western Infirmary School 
or * Polyclinic' and St. Margaret's College for women complete 
the present list of six medical schools in the great city of the 

The peculiarity of the system of competition in medical teach- 
ing in Glasgow is, that though very extensive it still is limited. 
There may be one Professor or Teacher of Surgery in each of 
the six schools, but there can be no more in ordinary circum- 
stances, while in Edinburgh, as we have seen, there may be an 
unlimited number. Then, most of the Glasgow appointments 
have some endowment or definite position that may tempt an in- 
efficient man, once installed, to hold on after his uselessness has 
become apparent. In Edinburgh, every man except the Pro- 
fessor in the University, may be literally starved out when he 
ceases to attract students. Free trade in teaching and 
death to the weakest is, as we have seen, the rule of the Edin- 
burgh school, except that by the new ordinances the great 
queen bee in the University is now always to be kept 
moderately fat. Much may be said for both plans. The 
small endowment plan would certainly in many cases be an 
enormous blessing, and an incentive too, to young and able men 
of an original turn of mind but of small means. We think we 
have known men who might have turned out great medical lights 
had £200 a year been attainable for bread and butter during the 
first ten years of teaching and working, but who were lost to the 
school for the want of it. Simpson and the Edinburgh School 
narrowly escaped this fate. 

Glasgow, daring the first half of this century was, beyond any 
question, on a lower plane than Edinburgh in regard to the all 
pervading spirit of original investigation and scientific enthusiasm 
among its teachers, and also in the social position of the profes- 
sion of Medicine. It taught men to practice Physic up to the 
standards then known in a creditable way ; but its ideal was not 
high enough. When Dr. Allen Thompson went from teaching 


The Medical Schools of Scotland, 17 

Physiology in Edinburgh, imbued with the scientific and Edin- 
burgh spirit, to teach Anatomy in Glasgow in ] 848, a bright day 
dawned for Medicine in the West in all respects. Sir Joseph 
Lister migrated westwards in 1860, and there fairly inaugurated 
the new era for Surgery. Dr. Gairdner followed from Edinburgh 
in 1862, and has become the recognised head of Scottish Medicine. 
Glasgow has now produced for herself Professor MacEwen, the 
greatest living surgeon in Scotland. The number of medical 
students has risen from 283 in 1861 to 349 in 1871, to 624 in 
1881, and to 798 last year. Thesie numbers only include 
University students ; something like 150 or 200 more must be 
added for the other schools, thus making up a great total of 
about 1000 students of Medicine. Not only have the numbers 
risen, but the professional tone of the schools. To enter the pro- 
fession merely to earn a livelihood is no longer the dominant 
idea. Glasgow's facilities for teaching Anatomy and for clinical 
work exceed those of Edinburgh, and she has a fair chance of 
coming still nearer the capital in numbers of students and in 
scientific reputation. 

King's College, Aberdeen, seems to have been the first in Scot- 
land to have a Professor of Medicine, for before the Reforma- 
tion there were ' Mediciners * there among the other members of 
the college, but whether they taught Physic to the students, and 
if so, how they taught it is not known. Except during a short 
period, about the middle of the 17th century, there seems always 
to have been a Professor of Physic, who lectured on the subject. 
But the numerous distinguished doctors that Aberdeen was 
always sending out all over Europe seemed to have gt)t their real 
medical education in Edinburgh or elsewhere. Several of the 
family of the celebrated Gregorys undoubtedly taught Physic in 
a living and effective way in Aberdeen, last century ; and Dr. 
James Gregory of Edinburgh began his great career as a 
medical teacher in Aberdeen. Marischal College appointed a 
Professor of Medicine in 1701, and there have been successors in 
that office ever since ; but in 1818, it is stated, there was no 
medical teaching in the College. The Aberdeen Infirmary was 
opened in 1741, and from the first the physicians and surgeons 
seem to have taken the students round the wards in their daily 


18 The Medical Schools of Scotland. 

visits. In 1789, the Aberdeen Medical Society was founded by 
twelve medical students of the city. This fact, and the subse- 
quent history of the Society, showed that the true modern spirit 
of Medicine was then alive and vigorous in Aberdeen, the spirit 
of enquiry, of healthy scepticism about old doctrines and of intense 
enthusiasm about new discoveries. When the news of John 
Hunter's death reached Aberdeen in 1793, it was agreed that for 
six weeks the President's desk should be hung with black cloth 
to show respect for that great man. For medical students of 
last century this was hero-worship of an extraordinarily dis- 
criminating kind. They selected the patient, quiet worker, and 
the greatest investigator of Anatomical, Surgical and Physio- 
logical facts of the time for this quaint act of reverence, instead 
of a poet or a warrior of the day. Still the best of the Aberdeen 
students went to Edinburgh or the Continent to finish their 
studies. The teaching of Medicine sank low in the first half of 
this century. The medical professors had not then the same 
status in either of the colleges as the Arts and Divinity Pro- 
fessors. There was an unseemly rivalry between King's and 
Marischal Colleges in granting medical degrees on very insuf- 
ficient examination, and an idea got abroad that its M.D. was 
virtually sold. The lecturing was a 'mere sham,' and the 
students picked up the practical knowledge they obtained, in the 
dissecting room, hospital and druggist shop, as best they could. 
The fame and example of Edinburgh did not at that time stimu- 
late, but rather seemed to paralyse the other Schools of Medicine 
in Scotland. No doubt there were one or two exceptions to the 
prevailing lowness of medical tone, of whom Dr. Kilgour was per- 
haps the most brilliant example. The fact seems to have been 
that Aberdeen produced many distinguished physicians, but 
could not afford to retain them for itself. There was no scope 
for them there ; the tone and status of the profession was not 
high enough. 

In 1858, with the Scottish University Act of that year, came 
the beginning of a change for the better. The two Colleges 
were united into one University. The city was getting large 
and prosperous ; money was becoming far more plentiful in the 
North. Aberdeen does not commonly fail for want of trying to 


The Medical Schools of Scotland. 19 

accomplish anything; and it then determined to have a good 
Medical School. The Chair of Anatomy fell vacant in 1863, 
and Dr. Struthers, then a successful * extra academical ' lecturer 
in Edinburgh, was induced to accept the position. The school 
had 158 medical students that year. For two years the numbers 
fell, so that in 1865 they were only 136. Struthers clearly saw 
the defects of the medical teaching, and he saw yet more clearly 
that they could not be remedied without a stem hard struggle. 
For an outsider to enter on that in Aberdeen against Aberdonians 
needed both courage and some callousness. The Aberdeen 
master qualities of mind had to be outdone. The Arts and 
Divinity faculties had to be made to feel that medicine was the 
rising science of the day and must have her due place in the 
University. Dr. Struthers was just the man to do this. He 
showed himself more of an Aberdonian than any one connected 
with the University in determination to have his own way. He 
worked hard and he fought hard. He knew what he wanted, 
and his persistency in getting it was irresistible even by hostile 
natives already in possession of the field. In sheer fighting 
power he was more than a match for the upholders of the former 
academic traditk/d. He was hated and resisted with an intensity 
only known iiv^berdeen. But under his initiative new life soon 
came into the school. The number of students rose to 251 in 
1873, to 360 in 1883, and stood at 439, with 71 medical 
graduates in 1892. All the requirements of modem medical 
teaching have been gradually acquired, isew professors were 
imported from Edinburgh or elsewhere, and now men of 
high eminence adorn most of the chairs. Museums, rooms for 
practical work, an addition to the Infirmary, have all been pro- 
vided at great cost. Students have been attracted from all over 
Scotland, from England and from the colonies. A fair share of 
Indian and Army appointments have fallen to the Aberdeen 
medical graduates. The School specially acquired a reputation 
as a place where students were individually looked after by the 
teachers, and every man made to work or asked the reason why. 
Original research in every department of medicine is being pro- 
secuted, and a great building scheme to perfect the University is 
now being carried out with enthusiasm. If there is duty, honour 

20 The Medical Schools of Scotland. 

and profit in having an efficient medical school, Aberdeen is 
clearly not to be behindhand in securing for the North of Scot- 
land and for herself all its advantages. 

If competition in teaching within themselves has helped the 
growth of the Edinburgh and Glasgow Medical Schools, why has 
Aberdeen grown and flourished in almost the same degree as 
they have done during the past thirty years without any such 
competitive teaching ? This question is difficult to answer, but 
it seems to show that so far as attracting and teaching students, 
a school may attain great success without it. No doubt Aber- 
deen had the most formidable outside competition in Edinburgh 
and Glasgow. Iler only chance lay in doing her work well. But 
to produce teachers as Scotland has done of the first class, and 
in such numbers, the Edinburgh School exporting them whole- 
sale to the Scotch Universities, to England, to Ireland, and to 
the Colonies, we do not see how any other system than that of 
unlimited competition could possibly have been successful. 

In any account of the Scotch Medical Schools, a mention of 
St. Andrews is necessary, though that ancient University never 
had a complete medical faculty, nor an efficient Medical School, 
because of its having no means of Clinical teaching. Medicine 
was taught as far back as 1579. There is a Chair of ' Medicine 
and Anatomy,' a Chair of Chemistry, a Chair of Natural History, 
and a Lectureship on Botany. By the new ordinances of the 
Universities Commission St. Andrews is combined with the 
University College Dundee in the formation of a Medical 
Faculty. This College has, within the past year, opened its 
doors to medical students, and the Dundee Royal Infirmary has 
been made the teaching Clinical field for the combined schools. 
Three years' instruction out of the five now required can be 
given there. It has a corps of able young teachers ; it has large 
Clinical facilities, and it has a reputation to make. Why should 
it not succeed, at all events, up to a certain point ? The exist- 
ence of a school does immense good to the profession in any city ; 
it quickens the life of an hospital, and it is convenient and 
cheaper for some of the students who live in the locality and city. 
It will no doubt have a hard struggle against its great competi- 
tors, but having to struggle against difficulties has made Scot- 


The Medical Schools of Scotland, 21 

land what it is to-day. It seems to an onlooker suicidal for this 
school not to utilise in harmony the academic traditions, the re- 
putation and the degree-granting power of St. Andrews Univer- 
sity ; and for St. Andrews not to take willing advantage of 
Dundee Royal Infirmary to complete its teaching. But, as we 
have seen, internal competition, rivalry, and even some healthy 
quarrelling has been the milk on which Scottish medical teaching 
has grown lusty. St. Andrews University brought some con- 
tempt on Scotch medical degrees, and caused much scandal early 
in the century by virtually ' selling ' its degrees without examina 
tion. No doubt they were only conferred on men who had a 
medical qualification already, and who could show testimonials 
of good character and professional repute ; but it was a very 
grave academic crime to have committed ; and under the enact- 
ments of the 1858 Act, the University was fitly punished by 
being deprived of the full power she had possessed, and was al- 
lowed only to give ten medical degrees each year to suitable men 
who had been in the profession for some time, and after proper 

No account of the Scottish Medical Schools would be com- 
plete without a notice of the schools for women of which there 
are now three. The Edinburgh School of Medicine for women 
was the first to be established after Miss Jex-Blake's heroic fight 
to storm the Edinburgh University had failed. Then came St. 
Margaret's College in Glasgow, and then the Medical College for 
Women in Edinburgh. They all have fully equipped staffs, and 
no doubt in time they will give a good account of themselves 
scientifically. About 80 women students are now being taught, 
and well taught ; the students being enthusiastic, earnest and 
talented. They have to pass the same examinations as the men 
and have no favour shown them in any way. It will be almost 
more necessary for them to strive after a high ideal of scientific 
enthusiasm and of professional tone than even the men, for they 
have their way to make, and they have to demonstrate that cer- 
tain female minds are as coldly scientific, as scientifically enthusi- 
astic, as able to discover new facts and to generalise on them ; 
as intensely abhorrent of quackery and sham in every form, as 
healthily sceptical, as cautious, as wise, and as high in profes- 

22 The Medical Schools of Scotland. 

sional aim as the leaders of medicine have been in the past. 
Thus only will women prove their fitness for the medical profes- 
sion. It is not on any sentimental grounds of any kind what- 
ever that their success will ultimately rest. No mere considera- 
tions of sex fitness and of sufficient ability to treat common 
complaints in women and children will avail in the long run to 
vindicate their claim to be a power in the profession. Excep- 
tional women there will always be in the future as there have 
been in the past who can do any work that the human brain is 
capable of. Such women will be an honour to medicine and 
thereby a great blessing to humanity. But the leaders of the 
present movement will have hard work and will have to see to 
it that no lower standard is tacitly admitted for women than 
man's ideal. Medicine can accept nothing less than the best and 
the highest. Her mission for humanity will not admit of her 
making allowance for sex weaknesses. If a bone has to be set 
there must be the skill and strength to do it. If a woman is in 
labour and there are twenty miles of road to ride over in a dark 
night, the doctor must do the distance in the shortest time 
possible. If an epidemic is raging he must be on duty night and 
flay while he is wanted. When humanity is suffering healing 
must be administered according to the latest light science has 
shed on the problem. No mere placebo will do. If there is any 
want of real power to understand and grasp those most diflScuIt 
problems that underlie all real progress in modern scientific medi- 
cine then they should not be undertaken. 

What then are the principles on which the education for this 
great profession, with such responsible duties to the public, is 
founded at the present day ? And what are the subjects the 
doctor has to master in detail and be examined on t Before he 
is allowed to register as a medical student at all, or count the 
first of his five years of study, he has to pass a searching preli- 
minary examination in Elementary Mathematics, English, 
Latin, with the option of French or German or Greek. 
This is the test of a good general education. Having passed 
this, it is understood that the first year is devoted to the four 
great sciences of Botany, Zoology, Physics and Chemistry, 
with a preliminary study of Anatomy. It need hardly be said 


The Medical Schools of Scotland. 23 

that his studies in those sciences must necessarily be somewhat 
elementary; but they are now made vei*y practical, so as to 
cultivate the faculty of observation, and to develop the scientific 
instinct in the young student. Merely hearing and absorbing 
lectures will not pass a man. He must come into direct contact 
with the facts and laws of nature under experienced teachers. 
Some of the best men of the present day consider that there 
is still too much lecturing, and too little demonstrating 
and doing actual work under supervision and proper instruction. 
We should be glad to see lectures reduced to two or three days a 
week, and practical work on the others. After his first year's 
work he has to pass his first professional examination in these 
subjects, but not in anatomy, which comes later. He has to show 
that he has begun to be somewhat of a naturalist in the wide 
sense. He has to enter medicine by this temple gate. His mind 
has to undergo the moulding towards observation, induction, 
taking an interest in the processes and constitution of the dead 
and living world around. Well is it for his future if the fire of 
scientific enthusiasm is kindled within him at this period, so that 
he begins to love his study for its own sake, and not for what it 
may bring him. The enthusiasm of science and the enthusiasm 
of humanity should be two of the dominating and redeeming 
qualities of any doctor. To excite these is the greatest thing a 
medical teacher can do in a pupil. The dry bones of facts, and 
the details of professional knowledge must be illuminated by a 
spark of something that is not mere medical schoolmastering. No 
man needs to cultivate an ideal more than a doctor. His work 
may be a poor affair, and his life that of a tradesman if he does 
not consciously, and as a stern duty as well as a pleasure, culti- 
vate the ideal in his life. A scientific ambition may have nothing 
to do with his visiting list, but it is very necessary ; a high social 
tone too, makes him feel that the spirit of his work is beyond what 
can be paid for at Christmas. Truth, honour, the keeping of 
secrets, joy in the health, physical welfare, and happiness of the 
community among whom he lives, and a hatred of all causes of 
human degeneration and disease, should be the breath of his 
professional life. Preventible disease should be a personal and 
professional reproach to him. Sin, and vice, and social degrada- 

24 The * Medial Schools of Scotland. 

tion, should be to him eyidences that human brains are badly 
developed, and human environments evil, and all diseases should 
appear to him preventible by medical science at some future time 
when the laws of life are understood and obeyed. Some 
religionists hold that if a man is not converted before 20, his 
chances rapidly decline thereafter ; and we hold that if a man 
does not find scientific salvation in his first years of study, the 
sacred fire has after that less chance of being kindled. Hence 
the supreme importance of his then coming under the influence 
of men who not only know their subjects thoroughly, but 
have in them magnetic natures that kindle interest and en- 
thusiasm. Depend upon it, teachers of this kind are the sort 
to make Scotch medical professors of. They have great hetero- 
geneous masses of young men poured into their lecture rooms 
whom they cannot possibly reach individually. They must 
therefore kindle enthusiasm or be lamentable failures. At the 
risk of academic damnation they must let themselves out in 
spirit and rouse their pupils. If a man, after taking their 
lectures, does not in his next holidays do some tramping with a 
vasculum on his back, dissect cats, and spoil his bedroom carpet 
doing chemical experiments, their teaching has not taken hold of 
the innermost recesses of his spirit. This ideal teaching has 
been done in Edinburgh above all the other Scotch or British 
schools, as the results have proved. Other schools have trained 
doctors, Edinburgh has created teachers. The best schools of 
the future will certainly have to imbibe her spirit of scientific and 
professional enthusiasm. 

After the first year, and its examination if possible has been 
passed, the student devotes himself for the next year to the 
structure of the human body — anatomy — and its functions, or 
the processes of life — physiology — along with surgery and the 
study of drugs. It is a fault of the new ordinances that the 
student is allowed to go on to these even if he has not passed his 
examination in the scientific subjects. That should be off his mind 
before he begins his second years's work. He then begins that 
hospital attendance, too, which never ceases till his studies are 
finished. For the first time he sees humanity in pain and suffer- 
ing from disease, and is instructed how to discover what is wrong 

The Medical Schools of Scotland. 25 

and how to put it right. Day by day, often evening by evenjng, 
as dresser or clerk, for four years, he spends hours in the wards. 
Here comes in the work of the clinical teacher, perhaps the man 
"who influences his medical life-work most of all. The great 
clinical teacher — and here again Edinburgh has greatly excelled 
— is a man of clear insight, ripe experience, some dramatic power, 
of felicitous speech, who can paint a vivid word-picture of 
disease with keen enthusiasm. The most painful and loathsome 
disease must be to him ' an interesting case,' and every student 
must be made to agree with him that it is so. An ideal clinicist 
has the power too of throwing a tinge of pity for the patient 
through all his teaching, like the 'atmosphere' that is all 
pervading in a good picture. He is a poor student, and he has 
had imperfect teachers, if, after his first year in hospital, he is 
not more serious, more gentle, and more human than he was at 
the beginning of it. The * clinical instinct' is a great and 
special gift in a doctor that he must be taught sedulously to 

In his third year the student still does some dissection, but 
devotes himself chiefly to drugs and their uses, and to surgery 
studied clinically in the hospital, becoming a ' dresser ' in the 
surgical wards. At the end of the winter he passes his examina- 
tion in Anatomy, Physiology, and Materia Medica. After that, 
for the next tw^o years all his work is practical. He studies 
Pathology and Medicine, Midwifery and Medical Jurisprudence 
in his fourth year, and passes in the first and last of these subjects 
at the end of it. His fifth year is devoted entirely to clinical 
work in Medicine and Surgery, and to the special departments. 
He studies public health, going to see systems of drainage, of 
ventilation, of water supply, of destroying and removing street 
refuse. He goes and sees cases examined, and tried in the 
Courts. He visits the Fever Hospital, and there sees cases of the 
epidemic and infectious diseases, how they are treated, and 
isolated. He has practical instruction in recognising and treat- 
ing diseases of the eye, the ear, the throat, and the skin, in the 
Hospital. He studies the diseases peculiar to women in their 
special wards. He must attend twelve cases of midwifery under 
skilled instructors. He must take out a practical course of 

26 The Medical Schools of Scotland. 

instruction in mental diseases, and study cases in an Asylum. 
Then, at last, he is admitted to pass his ** final " in Medicine, 
Surgery, and Midwifery, the examination being partly clinical, in 
the Hospital wards. If he "gets through," he is addressed in 
words of wisdom by one of his teachers, and receives his degree, 
entitling him to practise in any part of Great Britain and 
Ireland, most of our colonies too accepting the Scotch degrees 
and licenses. 

If the teachers are able, honest and enthusiastic, if the 
examiners are practical and thorough, if the students have been 
earnest and hard working, the course of instruction and of 
teaching should be a very ample guarantee to the public that 
they are to be medically treated by men of knowledge and skill. 
There is no other profession that approaches medicine in its 
practical requirements and training for entrants. The weak 
point is still that there is too much mental drill and mere acquisi- 
tion of facts as opposed to assimilation of knowledge, each 
individual thinking out his problems for himself. He is apt to 
cram too much, and think too little. At a distance of 30 years 
we can remember little of the thousand lectures or so we heard 
when a student, though the lecturers were intellectual giants and 
men of genius in those days, to whom it was a daily delight to 
listen. But m.any of our hospital cases that we dressed and 
* took ' and discussed with our fellow clerks or the house 
physician at the Infirmary, and transcribed into our private 
' Case Book,' — the page there never again opened perhaps from 
that day to this^-we can recall as vividly as when we sat beside 
their bedsides. So much stronger is the mental impression of an 
assimilated clinical case than that of a lecture. 

The Eoyal Colleges of Physicians and Surgeons of Edinburgh, 
and the Faculty of Glasgow, give a * Triple ' Combined License 
to students who do not desire, or cannot obtain a University 
degree, or wish to supplement it, on practically the same examina- 
tion as the University, except that the scientific subjects of 
Botany, Physics and Biology are not examined on. The student 
coming up for that License may have studied anywhere. That 
this supplies a want is evident from the fact that during the past 
five years, a yearly average of 213 men and women have taken 

The Medical Schools of Scotland. 27 

it, a fiH'eat number of these not having studied in the Scotch 
Schools at all. In the same time about 450 men a year have 
taken the degrees of Bachelor of Medicine and Master of Surgery 
in the Universities. In those two ways Scotland turns out about 
600 new doctors a year. 

The ordinances of the present executive Universities Commis- 
sion will be likelv to affect the future of the Scotch medical 
schools in a marked way. Some changes were clearly needed to 
provide that they advanced with the times. Evidence was taken 
from the most experienced teachers. Every interest and party 
was allowed to have its say before the Commission. Draft 
ordinances were sent to all the bodies interested, for criticism and 
suggestions, before they were finally adopted. The Commission 
consisted of very able and experienced men, yet the results 
are by no means universally accepted as satisfactor>\ There is a 
strong feeling that the number of professors should have been in- 
creased to cope with the modern extended field of medical 
science. As Medicine and Surgery have made some of their 
most notable advances of recent years through specialising, one 
man or set of men devoting themselves entirely to a small depart- 
ment, it is thought that this might have been more recognised 
and provided for. A great school should now be great in the 
special departments as well as in General Medicine and Surgery 
Men should not have to go to Vienna or Berlin to get full oppor- 
tunities of studying diseases of the throat, or ear or eye. The 
limitation of the great selfish principle of every professor getting 
as many students as he can and therefore as much money as he 
can make, is open to the very gravest doubt. It does not seem 
as if the new ordinances made sufficient provision for the en- 
couragement of original research. The men who do this work 
are the salt of every school, without whom it would soon lose all 
its scientific savour. Could not the combined wisdom of the 
Commission have devised some scheme of payment by results for 
original investigation ? We all know that there are some men 
who, in mind, embody the spirit of science, who are its redeemers 
from death and stagnation, who love original work for its own 
sake, who will work hard and steadily if they have opportunity 
and bread and butter. But they must live while they w^ork. It 

28 The Medical Schools of ScotlaiiJ. 

is strange the Commission did not make at least an attempt to re- 
tain a dozen or so of such young men in each school by modest 
salaries to be held for a few years. The new laboratories in the 
schools without the men are mere confessions of failure. Success 
in keeping and developing all this original work in each school 
would have been a success indeed for the Commission, compared 
to which mere administrative and teacliing reforms are small 
affairs. There are many departments of Medicine where work in 
detail is urgently needed. Germany is doing this, we are not 
fully using our opportunities. There are other departments 
where generalisations are much needed, founded on the work 
already accomplished. We are near the era of a Medical and 
Surmcal Darwin. But it is doubtful if Darwin could have 
worked and thought out his results had his mind been distracted 
by the turmoil of ordinary medical practice. We all hope the 
best however from the earnest and patient labours of the Com- 

There are certain difficulties that medical education has to 
contend with which are due solely to ignorance and prejudice on 
the part of the public, and which we believe have merely to be 
stated candidly and fairly to the public, to be largely removed. 
The doctor is a servant of the public. To be a good and useful 
servant he must have everv facility to be taucrht evervthin^ that 
the public needs in his line. The sense of public duty and of 
public responsibility that is being awakened and strengthened by 
universal suffrage in every man who thinks at all, must not be 
confined in its scope to political questions. It should, and it will 
certainly be directed to social, sanitary and health questions. 
The public will see that it is in its interest and for its welfare that 
doctors are thoroughly educated and have every facility to make 
themselves as useful as it is possible for them to be. The poor 
man and the working man have a greater interest in having a 
good doctor than the rich man, for they need him most and 
of Now a man cannot be an efficient doctor and serve the 

lie might if he has not learned the anatomy of the 

ly ' x>Qghly at the outset of his studies. Without 
not do surgical operations or staunch bleed- 
' ; he cannot set broken bones or reduce 

. . ,i 

The Medical Schools of Scotland. 29 

dislocated joints, and he cannot map out the lungs or liver in the 
living body when he examines his patients to discover what is wrong 
with them. For all this he must have human bodies in sufficient 
numbers to dissect, to do operations on and to study when a student. 
Surely it is no unworthy use for the earthly tenement when life 
has fled, to benefit the living, to succour the distressed, to assuage 
pain, and to cure disease. Yet the public are deeply and most 
unfavourably prejudiced on this question. They do not regard 
their best interests and those of their children. Certain public 
Boards are often crassly stupid in their proceedings in this matter. 
The prejudices, the ignorances, and even the superstitions of a 
barbaric age come in and do much harm to the present genera- 
tion in this matter. At present all ' unclaimed ' bodies may be 
used, that is, all persons dying in public institutions, who have 
been kept there at the public expense, who have no relatives 
whose feelings can be hurt, all tramps dying on the road, etc. 
Could any possible objection be raised by any sensible public- 
spirited man or woman to this rule ? Have not the public, and 
especially the poor, the right to demand that the bodies of all 
such persons should be available for the purpose ? If it were 
carried out honestly, heartily and intelligently all over Scotland, 
by every public body, in every poorhouse, hospital, asylum and 
prison, the medical student would have far more chance than he 
has of acquiring a thorough knowledge of anatomy. With the 
present facility for virtual embalming and the facilities of rail- 
way conveyance such unclaimed bodies could easily be carried to 
the medical schools from distant towns with no sort of offence or 
danger. The railways and steamers should relax their extrava- 
gant fares for the dead for this purpose. If every Parochial 
Board would see to this, a great public gain would result. It is 
not a doctor's question. The ultimate gain would be to the 
public and the poor. It is a question about which undue reti- 
cence can, in our opinion, do no good. Let the intelligent public 
be educated on the point, and its true bearing will soon be seen. 
Sooner or later it must be so educated. The tramp and the pro- 
fessional pauper cost the public enough during their lives ; they 
might well do something to diminish human suffering after their 
death. A business-like scheme openly carried out, covering all 

80 The Medical Schools of Scotland, 

Scotland, to carry out the provisions of the present Anatomy 
Act, surrounded as that is by every sort of precaution against 
abuse, would, we believe, in no way shock the public. Undue 
reticence, foolish fears of rousing old prejudices, and timidity 
generally, alone hinder the Scottish Medical Schools, especially 
the Edinburgh School, in this matter. The time has now come 
for boldness and openness in regard to this important question. 
We lately heard of a member of a Parochial Board going round 
a poorhouse asking each pauper if he objected to be dissected 
after he died I Logically, such a fool, if he dislocates his shoulder, 
has no right to the services of a surgeon whose power to reduce 
it is got entirely through his anatomical knowledge. The public 
sentiment against posi mortem examinations is equally the result 
of ignorance and unthinking prejudice. Both feelings are im- 
moral, inasnmch as they do harm to the living, and obstruct the 
long crusade of medicine against pain and death. It has been 
an uphill fight and need not be made more difficult by ignorant 
prejudice and want of true public spirit. The science of patho- 
logy could not have existed without examinations after death, to 
see what the cause of death had been, and how the healthy 
organs and functions had undergone change. Foreign Schools 
of Medicine, and even English and Irish Schools, have had an 
advantage over Scotch Schools in the facilities they have possessed 
for anatomical and pathological research. There can be no cure 
without a knowledge of what disease really is. 

The doctor, when ho gets his degree, must keep to himself no 
medical secrets or discoveries that would benefit humanity, he 
must be at the call of rich and poor alike ; he gives much of his 
time and energj* to work that brings him in no direct reward ; his 
ideal should be to bo a public servant, doing all the good he can, 
and not principally to make nionov and benefit himself only. The 
motloru ideal of the doctor is that ho should be the priest of 
the lH>dy. The modern aim of medioino is to prevent disease 
and to spread the knowledge of the laws of health. As health 
means happiness, oontentinent^ capacity for \>^>rk, and enjoyment 
of life, the future of humanity depends givatly on the attainment 
of that ideal. The Mens mna in cotfh>r^ c^cimo has a very close rela- 
tionship to morals, to religion, to law« and to a xvasonable socio- 

The Medical Schools of Scotland. 31 

logy. The public and the State have therefore the right and the 
duty to see that medical training is thorough, broad, and on right 
lines. A Medical School where the tone and ideal was low ; 
where the students were only taught a technical knowledge of 
their profession ; a school with no high scientific aspirations and 
no pervading sentiment of duty to society ; where the chief aim 
was only to fit the man to earn a livelihood would be on the level 
of a trade, and deserve no general support from the State or the 
public. But there is no medical school and no medical corpora- 
tion that does not repudiate such an ideal for the great profession 
of medicine. The Scotch Medical Schools will certainly endea- 
vour in the future, as they have done in the past, to lead the van 
not only in numbers but in high tone and usefulness to society. 
We have no fear whatever as to their future. No doubt provin- 
cial Medical Schools in England are rising up, and Cambridge 
University is developing a large Medical School, but the great 
characteristic of our schools has been that the teachers in them 
devote themselves to teaching as their highest aim and end in 
professional life. There is much less tendency than elsewhere 
towards making teaching a mere stepping stone to practice and 
fortune. We believe in the race, and we think that medicine 
and medical teaching is one of the strong points of Scotsmen. 
If that is so, they will hold their own just as surely as the best 
horse will win. 



IN certain weary moods one finds the familiar, whether in 
life or in art, the common works and the common days, 
supremely attractive. The mere familiarity of an ordinary 
landscape, the very monotony of an uneventful life, may seem 
pleasant after the excitement of seeing varied scenes or living 
in a stirring world. And this is the efiect which may be felt 
when one turns to the Works and Days of Hesiod after the 
Iliad and the Odyssey, We come here, as it were, from the 
strange scenes of the Trojan war, from the wild adventures and 

32 The Works and Days ; A Study in Greek Realism. 

jeopardies of Odysseus, to quiet uplands, where we have to 
think only of sowing and reaping. It is an asjreeable relief to 
the strained imagination to leave the wamors for the sun-burnt 
sickle-men ; to pass from the kinjQr's house to the shepherd's 
hut; to watch the work of the plough-share, and forget the 
work of the sword. One even feels as if one were glad to 
come inland, out of sight of the treacherous element, so 
long associated with the ships of the Achaeans and the ship- 
wrecks of Odysseus, among men who had never sailed the sea, 
if it were not across the straits which separate Boeotia from 
Euboea, to celebrate a feat at Chalcis. In the poem of Hesiod, 
who, when he does give some hints about navigation, expressly 
owns that he has had no experience, we are conscious that we 
are on the solid earth, safely out of all temptation to grasp 
after other gifts than hers, and well beyond the reach of stem 
Poseidon, — irbvTov KVfiaivovros dirdirpodi. For assuredly the reader of 
Homer may feel that he has travelled to the ends of the world — 
travelled, as a Greek might say, ' without leaving home ' ; as 
we might say, ' in the spirit,' — even beyond its natural limits 
to the places of the Dead ; and the weary traveller may be 
relieved to come, Jluctihus^e tantis tantisqve tenebris^ to a small 
homely sphere of rural life. Even within the Homeric cycle 
itself we experience a sensation of this kind, when Odysseus 
comes to the hut of Eumaeus, and we enjoy, while he sojourns 
there for two days, the rude life of the swine-herd ; with a 
certain strain however, the unusual situation of a disguised 
prince as the guest of his own slave, making a demand upon 
our attention, so that the immediate details have only a 
subordinate interest. Yet, in this sketch of the rough life of 
herds, one may detect a foretaste of Hesiod, coming in as a 
pleasant relaxation of the strain ; just as Sainte-Beuve defined 
the episode of Nausicaa (introduced ' au sortir de la plus 
affreuse d6tresse d'Ulysse/) as a sort of idyl, really refreshing 
after the terrible tempest. 

Yes, after Homer, the Works and Days of Hesiod is a change 
indeed. After giants and sorceresses, heroes and kings, gods 
in human shapes, golden tripods and curious beds, we have to 
contemplate men digging in the rain, farm-servants eating 

The Works and Days; A Study in Greek Realism. 33 

hunches of coarse bread, the husbandman now watching the 
stars, now protecting himself against the chill winds of January, 
the improvident man visiting his neighbour to borrow a plough. 
Thus at a very early stage of European literature, we have the 
contrast between the * romantic ' (it is delightfully incongruous 
to call Homer romantic) and the homely style of art, a contrast 
soon perceived and strikingly expressed in the legend of an 
actual poetic contest between Homer and Hesiod. The 
modern distinction of realism and romanticism may be traced 
as far back as that ; and if we choose to use a modern name, 
where the Greeks had no name, we may call the author of the 
Works and Days a realist. He dealt here with common life, 
and the great originality of this poem lay in making familiar 
and homely things interesting and curious. Instead of dealing 
with the doings of the gods, or seeking lands beyond the sea, 
or Laestrygonians, or *artres vast,' he turned to the environment 
in which he actually lived, discovering the poetry in those 
common things and acts, which one sees at every cross-road, 
so important in use, but not likely to arrest the imagination. 
If anyone nowadays claims from the imagination a serious kind 
of interest for a loaf of bread, a shower of rain, or a man saw- 
ing wood, he may expect that the answer will be, * Is that all? 
Is that what you brought us out to the wilderness to see ? ' 
Hesiod was one of those to whom the familiar acts and pro- 
c^ses of life, the * works and days,* seem a fit material for art 
— the same art which treats the stranger phenomena of nature 
or society — to inform. This way of looking at things might 
indeed come more naturally to Hesiod, in that age of the 
world, than to us ; for common things were then full of 
religious associations, and many of the vulgar works of life 
were connected with religious observances. A carpenter, for 
Hesiod, is the ' servant of Athene ' ; the water which falls from 
the clouds is regarded as the ' rain of Zeus ' ; and it is always 
remembered that bread is the gift of Demeter, — just as, in our 
own day, bread eaten at breakfast might gain a certain dis- 
tinction for a very pious mind, remembering the panem 
quotidianum of the Lord's Prayer. 

But it is by no naeans as an idyl- writer that Hesiod has dealt 

34 The Works and Days ; A Study in Greek Realism. 

with the homely details of agriculture and rural life. He is 
far indeed from writing to make the * country ' appear attracv- 
tive, or to invest it, as Theocritus invested the life of shepherds, 
with an unearthly or * romantic ' light. He is a realist, and 
his place is in the same house as the Dutch school of painting 
(IxairoypdifKH, is the nearest Greek equivalent), not in the home of 
Theocritus and Watteau, where we must place the author of 
the Georgics too. Realism, of course, is not confined to the 
sphere of common * daily ' life ; the picturesque works of the 
devil, such as scenes of war, may be treated, as well as any- 
thing else, in a realistic manner. But it is in ordinary concerns 
perhaps that realism has its best opportunity to make details 
which seem insignificant become significant or interesting, in 
the inn, or the farmyard, or the citizen's home, or disorderly 
places, or in the mind of a boor. That is what artistic realism 
does, — the realism of Teniers, or George Eliot, or Guy de 

Hesiod was born in Boeotia, but his parents were not Boeo- 
tian. They were poor people who had come from beyond the 
sea, from the Aeolian Cyme on the north-west coast of Lesser 
Asia, and had settled in Ascra, a small bleak inland to\vn be- 
neath the eastern slopes of Mount Helicon, which Hesiod's 
birth there has made immortal but of which he himself speaks 
unlovingly, with a realism tempered by a little spleen, as if it 
had been a stepmother rather than a mother to him. Thus m 
the circumstances of his parentage, and hovering, as it were, 
around his cradle in the bleak Boeotian town, there were re- 
miniscences and traditions of that eastern Greece where the 
Homeric poems had been composed and ' Homer ' had lived. 
To Hesiod, and to so many other poets whose lives are but 
dimly known, there was attached a story of a divine * call,' 
which came to him in his boyhood, in the shape of a curious 
vision. We see him, and should be glad to imagine that here 
at least we have a fact, as a shepherd boy, feeding flocks on 
the mountain of the Muses, not indeed on the southern slopes : 

* Where Helicon breaks down 
In cliff to the sea,' 

the region which might seem most suitable to the poet of the 

The Works and Days; A Study in Greek Realism. 35 

Theogony^ but inland, where we expect to find the poet of the 
Works and Days, There one day, in some mountainous retire- 
ment, he fell asleep and dreamed that nine women were stand- 
ing beside him and feeding him with laurel. The food was, 
in truth, the vocal laurel of Helicon, as Tzetzes calls it in his 
' Life of Hesiod ' (sd^i^as xdXous 'EXt/cwWrtSas) ; and the women were 
the nine Muses. It would be rash to say that this tale in its 
literal sense is either true or false ; and it does not matter in 
the least. In a spiritual sense, the dream is perfectly true, for 
if the actual Hesiod never dreamed it, it is one of those singu- 
larly happy, one might say, inspired inventions, which artisti- 
cally reconstruct life as it ought to be. How the young poet, 
who was doubtless brought up to some agricultural or pastoral 
employment, and perhaps really watched sheep on the hillside, 
wrought his deliverance and trained himself to the service of 
those ladies who had vouchsafed to feed him with food that 
perisheth not, whether with or against the will of his parents, 
we are not told. He learned to handle the Homeric hexameter, 
and to sing as others had sung, the histories of the gods of 
Olympus and the deeds of men who had become historical, or, 
as we should now say, mythical ; such subjects being, as he 
declares, a solace to those who are visited by grief. 

And Hesiod, though he lived in fruitful Boeotia, was deeply 
impressed, partly perhaps owing to the hard experiences of his 
father, with the gloomier aspects of the * divine system.' ' The 
earth,' he says, * is full of ills, and full the sea ' ; ills, however, 
regarding which it is well for a man to be reserved, remem- 
bering that they come — poverty itself comes — from the gods, 
and thus are a sort of mysterious presences, diseases, for 
example, being conceived as actual persons wandering to and 
fro in the world, who would even speak to you, if Zeus had 
not robbed them of voice. It has been already remarked that 
Hesiod was a realist; he was also, to use another modern 
term, a pessimist. A resigned pessimist certainly, like all the 
old Greeks ; but he seriously believed that the world was a 
dreary place, or at least that his own life was laid in its worst 
and gloomiest epoch. This comes out in his description of the 
Five Ages of Man, the earliest attempt at a Weltgeschichte. 

36 The Works and Days; A Study in Greek Realism. 

And here it is interesting to observe tiow the idea of associat- 
ing Ages or Races of men with significant metals grew up. 
The men of Hesiod's dav had dim traditional remembrance 
of a time when iron, so familiar to them, was not used. That 
was the Bronze Age, in the sense in which it is used in modern 
archaeology. The men of the Iron Age esteemed that the 
men of the Bronze Age were a superior and more favoured 
race, and this notion, associated with the corresponding rela- 
tion between the two metals, bronze being always the more 
honourable, invested Bronze and Iron with symbolic meaninga 
Once the symbolism came in, it was almost inevitable that a 
demand should be made upon more precious metals, so as to 
complete a sort of historical series. For when one came to 
ask, ' and who lived before the Bronze race,' what happier 
answer could be made than that * the Silver race lived then, 
and before them again the Golden ? ' Thus the Gold and the 
Silver had never any other than a symbolic' meaning, whereas 
the bronze and iron had first of all a literal historical meaning. 
According to the numbering of the metals then there were 
four races, each inferior in vigour and happiness to the one 
before it ; for the world was going down the hilL Hesiod, as 
we shall see, in order to solve an historical diflSculty, adds a 
fifth race (fourth in order), for which he has no typical metaL 
He describes the life of each race and tells what became of it. 
The men of the first or Gold Age lived like gods, knowing 
neither sorrow, nor toil, nor eld ; and when they died, death 
came so gently that it was really a falling asleep: QyrjffKov 5' ws 
fxvy SeSfirjfjL^oi. They wauder still about the earth invisibly, as 
beneficent guardians of men ; * this was their royal guerdon.' 
The second race which the gods created was far inferior ; the 
Silver men, who used to remain children for a hundred years 
at the knees of their mothei*s, and had then but a short man- 
hood. But they were bold men, for they resisted authority : — 

' Xeque fama deum nee fulmina nee minitanti 
Murmure compressit eaelum ; 

they refused to sacrifice to the gods, and Zeus blotted them out 
Yet they were not without honour ; under the earth they are 
still called ' blessed mortals,' in distinction from those who 

The Works and Days ; A Study in Greek Realism. 37 

came after. The Bronze men who next appeared were sprung 
from Ash-nymphs. They had bronze arms and lived in bronze 
houses ; they ate no bread, and all their care was for war and 
violence. Their wars ultimately extinguished them, and they 
went down 'nameless' to the 'mouldering house of cold Hades; 
yea, wonderful and terrible though they were, black death 
took them and they left the light of the sun.' After them, ac- 
cording to the order of the metals, should come the Men of 
Iron. But if so, a diflSculty arises. No place seems to be left 
for the heroes of Hellenic legend. Were the men who went 
on the quest of Helen to be numbered in the race of Iron, the 
last and the worst ? On the other hand, they were more re- 
cent than the Bronze race, of which only a dim remembrance 
survived. Thus Hesiod — and here we see his respect for 
Homer — was driven to assume a Fourth Age for the Homeric 
(and other) heroes, interpolated between the Bronze Age and 
the Iron, better than the Bronze, far better than the Iron. 
Here the gradual decline is reversed ; the Bronze men are 
succeeded by mortals superior to themselves, and destined to 
a brighter lot after their death, not in the home of decay, but 
in the islands of the blessed, beside the ocean. 

h fiaKdpwv VT^ffOun irap {JjKeavbv padvdlvrjv. 

Of the Iron race, which possessed the earth in his own day, 
Hesiod gives a sad account indeed. It is 'weariness and woe,' 
he says, by day and by night; and he wishes that he had been 
lucky enough to be born either at some earlier period or in 
later times. This glance at the future is interesting; for it 
shews that he did not regard the successor of the Iron race as 
destined to decline to a still lower degree. Degeneration did 
not seem to him a law of nature, the matter lying altogether 
in the hands of Zeus, who created what manner of men he 
willed, and ' hid them away ' when they had played their part. 

It is to be observed that Homer was not a rival of Hesiod, 
as far as Hesiod himself was concerned, but a model, a tradi- 
tion and an influence. One sees this in the way in which he 
dedicates his Fourth Age especially to the heroes of whom 
Homer sang; one feels it in the flow of the hexameter, one re- 

38 The Work8 and Days ; A Study in Greek Realism. 

marks it in such phrases as the measure of the ' sounding sea ' 
{iro\\)<p\oL<T^oLo 0a\a<r<njt). And if the Theogony only, or some of 
Hesiod's lost poems had been left to us, one might hardly 
understand the notion of a deep contrast between the two 
poets, who were said to have sung against each other at 
Chalcis. But fortunately the new world which the Boeotian 
poet discovered has come down to us in the Works and Days. 
For it was certainly a new idea to bring the Homeric hexameter 
to bear upon daily life. One might regard it as an attempt to 
reconcile men to the toil and care of their uniform work, by 
holding out an ideal of the way in which it should be wrought, 
and imposing on it a new dignity or grace by means of art. 
The Works and Days! The title itself is realistic. For a 
poem dealing with the hard details of labour, a more expres- 
sive name, suggesting the business and the time by which we 
measure it — the wearying or pleasant work, the days so long 
or too short — could not easily be chosen. It might serve as a 
motto for the pessimist ; or it might be taken as a text by the 
man of enthusiasm. With Hesiod it was the title of a discourse, 
from an inspired point of view, neither enthusiastic nor queru- 
lous, on the best way of performing the ' work ' and arranging 
the days. The Greek word i^pya, suggested to a Greek some- 
thing diflFerent from the word by which we render it. Works^ 
when we use it in a special sense, suggests machinery, as in 
ironworks, waterworks; #p7a, when a Greek used it in a special 
sense, suggested agriculture, and even meant the actual fields 
and farm grounds. Thus the name of Hesiod's poem had a 
rural sound, which is not echoed in our usual translation of it. 
' Tillage and Days ' would come nearer. 

The atmosphere of the poem is certainly dismal, giving one 
the impression that it was written by a man who has no time 
to spend in contemplating anything save the hard realities of 
life. Hesiod did not care to linger on spring and autumn, after 
the manner of poets ; they were really serious subjects, not 
playthings for the artist ; and he only indicates them by quick 
touches. He speaks, for example, of the * white spring,' as if 
white were the colour of promise, coming in between the black 
winter and the divers colours of summer. And he has a re- 

The Works and Days ; A Study in Greek Realism, 39 

markably effective imitation of one of the characteristic sounds 
of spring : — 

Where one seems to hear cuckoo^ cuckoo ! amid the lisping of 
leaves ; a kind ot verse which, by no means belonging to the 
highest orders of versification, may be really pleasing in a rare 
place — once in a long poem of this kind, for example — sud- 
denly sui-prising the reader, like an actual sound of nature 
breaking in upon him from without and calling his attention 
away from his reading. But the muse is kept strictly to busi- 
ness throughout the work, which is practically a Handbook to 
Farming. There is no scent of flowers about the poem ; only 
the smell of clay, with a crossblown savour, once or twice, of 
com or wine. There is no ornament in the house of Works 
and Days; it is pensive, though appertaining altogether to the 
concerns of physical life, and its outlook is on gloomy places. 
It was built, one might fancy, by an architect who had more 
joy in the rage of the north wind than in the pleasures of 
springtime or the vintage. For it is only the month Lenaeon 
— extending, according to our reckoning, from the middle of 
January to the middle of February — the month of wicked 
days, shrewd enough, with the lash of winds and frosts, to 
flay oxen, that seduces the poet into giving a general and very 
lively picture of the condition of animals and men in the 
country during that unkindly season. It is a thoroughly 
realistic and homely description of the severity of winter, cer- 
tain to leave a very clear impression on the mind, though not 
purposing to be a ' fine passage.' We hear the descent of the 
north wind from Thrace, the noise of earth and heaven, the 
falling of oaks and pines in the mountain glens amid the roar- 
ing of the ' multitudinous wood ' {vi^piros oxr;), the chill wind 
penetrating through the thick coverings of the wild animals, 
which shiver and put their tails between their legs (our nearly 
literal equivalent for a homely Greek phrase), and reaching 
the kine and the goats too, the fleeces of the lucky sheep only 
being proof against it. We have pictures of an old man run- 
ning to keep himself warm, or to seek shelter; and of a maiden 
sitting in the house, safely out of the cold, beside her mother; 

40 The Works and Days ; A Study in Greek Realism, 

this was a really happy touch, suggesting the peculiar pleasure 
of the sheltered, such as (to go from Boeotia to Normandy) 
was felt by Jeanne (in the novel of Guy de Maupassant) when 
she travelled in heavy rain to les Peuples. * EUe jouissait 
de voir la d68olation des paysages et de se sentir k I'abri au 
milieu de cette inondation.' The snowstorm soon comes, and 
the beasts of the fields, horned and hornless, fly through the 
woodland to their holes and coverts. And here the advice to 
the farmer is resumed. He is told how he should furnish him- 
self against the cruelties of this season with overcoat and warm 
sandals, and a cap that shall protect his ears from wet. 

One follows with interest in the pages of Hesiod the change 
of the constellations, as they divide, like sign-posts, the days of 
the year. Towards the end of February, Arcturus rises for the 
Greeks in the evening twilight^ and the Spring may be said 
to begin, the swallow coming soon after Arcturus. The note 
of the swallow is heard for an instant, and we are reminded 
that there was a myth connected with her ; but not caring to 
linger on the vital agitation of the springtime (he had already 
spoken of ploughing to be done then) the poet hurries on to 
the rising of the Pleiads in May — when the * house-carrier,' as 
he calls the snail, begins to climb up plants — and to the 
preparations for harvest. But when the reaping is done, and 
the corn is in, the very imagination of the dead heat of summer, 
when things are weary, except perhaps the wild artichoke, 
then coming into bloom, and the grasshopper, noisier than 
ever, constrains Hesiod to fling himself down to rest for a 
space in the shade, with a milk-cake and some wine, — wine, as 
he tells us, being at that season best — mixed with water, in 
the proportion of one to three. But the appearance of Orion 
in the heavens soon stirs him again to the business of the 
threshing, and then of the vintage ; and the gifts of Dionysus, 
the Rejoicer, do not seduce him into allowing himself another 
moment of relaxation ; he does not even suggest a fete chanv- 

The prescriptions which he gives to the farmer, some of 
them touching the more general ordering of one's conduct, 
others regarding particular observances, give a glimpse into 

The Works and Days ; A Study in Greek Realism. 41 

Bome corners of the life of a Boeotian, who tried to bind his 
days together by ritual, as well as natural piety. These 
counsels are chiefly negative, prescribing what it is well not to 
do. The paring ot the nails, for instance, at religious celebra- 
tions, is disapproved in language which has a really oracular 
strain of metaphor : * Cut not the dry of the firebranch from 
the green thereof with bright iron at the feast of the gods/ 
The firebranch, as a name of the hand, sounds like an inven- 
tion of the Delphic priesthood. It is said to be unlucky to set 
the wine ewer above the mixing-bowl at a banquet ; a super- 
stition of the same kind as those which still hei*fe and there sur- 
vive among us; such, for instance, as harm in a party of 
thirteen at table. But in many of these ' taboos * we can see 
the underlying motive ; such as divine presences in rivers, or 
a divine consecration in the season of night. The same sense 
of the presence and influence of the gods pervades the husband- 
man's calendar, with which the poem comes to an end, a tale 
of the Days of the Month, marking certain days as favourable 
or unfavourable to particular kinds of work, a matter indeed 
on which, when it comes to details, superstition was not quite 
unanimous ; though it was agreed that some days were 
mothers to men and others stepmotherly, and that it was im- 
portant for a mortal to distinguish 4;heso if he would walk 
altogether blameless in the sight of the gods. 

This belief in the influence of the gods, and the entire de- 
pendence of men upon them, excluded the idea of a gradual 
improvement or development of the race. It was not worth 
while to contemplate possibilities. Only in a very modified 
sense could Hesiod have accepted the motto which Rousseau 
adopted for Emile — sanahilibus aegrotamus malis. The crude 
primary fact for mortals was that the gods have hidden the means 
of sustaining life; whence follows the necessity of agricultural 
toil. And as he is dealing with plain and crude facts, Hesiod 
is not afraid of common words — as men might who only played 
at farming ; and we meet lines which, in tone, might be com- 
pared to the homely refrain in a song of Shakespeare : — 

* While greasy Joan doth keel the pot,' — 

only that the dignified hexameter would convert * Joan ' into 

42 Scottish Fiction of To-day. 

something more nearly akin to * Dowsabel.' And in that wonder- 
ful metre, which seems to overcome awkwardness, one is hardly 
shocked at a naked word when some trivial things, of which it 
is not polite to talk nowadays, are spoken of ; just as one ac- 
cepts * naturalness ' in the picture of a Dutch master. One is 
almost persuaded to believe that anything, however * impos- 
sible,' might become agreeable when cast by a Greek * master' 
in hexameters. Certainly, having passed through their sound- 
ing ways, as Ilesiod handled them, the tillers of the soil, the 
plough and other implements, the soil itself and * mute insen- 
sate things ' with which the husbandman has to do, win a new 
interest and distinction. Having had our thoughts pleasantly 
but seriously concerned with the * kindly fruits of the earth,' 
and the methods of their production, we may even at this time 
of day (as the expression is) come away with a certain sense 
of an almost religious relation towards the ground, as the 
abode of a maternal goddess who silently endows men, as 
Lucretius said in one of his fine lines : — 

' Munificat tacita mortales muta salute,' — 

and receives each, when, after labour in bleak places, the hour 
of his rest comes, to sleep in her bosom. 

J. B. Bury. 


1. The Railway Man and his Children. By MrS. Oliphant. 


2. Catriona. By R. L. Stevenson. Cassell. 

3. The Little Minister. By J. M. Barrie. Cassell. 

4. Kilmallie, By Henry Johnston. David Douglas. 

5. Margaret Drummond, Millionaire. By SOPHIE F. F. VeitoH. 

6. The Works of Annie S, Swan, 

THE promiscuous literary feast, of which a menu is here 
given — consisting, however, it should be carefully noted, 
of typical dishes, not of tit-bits — will suggest many curious 
reflections to Scotsmen who have been brought up on Scott 

■L . rf - ■ ■■-* •■- 


Scottish Fiction of To-day. 43 

and Gait. Of these, one cannot but play the Aaron's rod to 
all the rest. That is the tendency of all the writers — except per- 
haps Mrs. Burnett-Smith, who does not depict Scottish life speci- 
ally so much as simple and essentially religious life wherever 
it is to be found within the borders of the United Kingdom — 
to look askance at, if not to shirk, Scotland of to-day, and to 
let their imaginations have scope in the Scotland of yesterday, 
and still more of the day before yesterday. Take for an 
example Mrs. Oliphant's The Railway Man and his Children. 
James Rowland is a modern self-made Scotsman, it is true, 
but there is nothing specially Scottish about him ; he might 
as well have been born in Lancashire, Yorkshire, or the Mid- 
lands. He is not nearly so real as his far too generous wife, 
and infinitely less likeable. He is indeed not nearly so real 
as Eddy Saumarez, that curious and essentially cockney study 
in heredity and the New Humour, whom, forger though he 
stands confessed, Rowland is daring enough to accept 
as a son-in-law. But, from the purely Scottish point of 
view, the character which, as a study, stands head and 
shoulders above all others in this story is Aunt Jean, of the 
Sauchiehall Road, Glasgow — narrow-minded, unjust, un- 
christian, at heart an old maid, and yet not ungenerous, 
and altogether delightful. But Aunt Jean belongs to the 
Scotland of yesterday. If she is actually to be found in the 
region to which Mrs. Oliphant gives the name of Sauchiehall 
Road, one may rely upon it that she but lags superfluous on 
the stage. Take again Kirsteen^ which is an infinitely more 
powerful story than The Railway Man and his Children^ and in 
which, as a gallery of Scottish portraits, Mrs. Oliphant surely 
reaches the high-water mark of her power. In Kirsteen Mrs* 
Oliphant deliberately shirks the presentation to her readers of 
the Scotland of to-day. It is described expressly as a story of 
seventy years ago, and certainly the terrible Drumcarro, who 
is its true hero, would not be permitted to live outside a 
lunatic asylum in the present time. 

But it may be said, and with truth, that Mrs. Oliphant belongs 
to an earlier generation of novelists than the present, though 
she works at least as hard as the youngest of them. But the 

44 Scottish Fiction of To-day. 

iDclination to let Scotland of to-day alone is exhibited in an 
even more pronounced fashion by the younger artists in fiction, 
of whom the chief representatives on this side of the Tweed 
are, of course, Mr. Stevenson and Mr. Barrie. In Catriona, Mr. 
Stevenson is seen at his very best, not indeed as a raconteur — 
as a mere story Catriona is greatly inferior to its predecessor 
Kidnapped — but as a patient delineator of character. He has 
still, it is true, to prove that he can draw a ' real ' woman. 
Catriona is an ambitious failure. She attracts neither by her 
beauty nor by her disposition. She is destitute alike of genuine 
heart and of genuine archness. She is but a poor coquette, 
and one is quite convinced that she will make a poor wife. 
Even when she and David Balfour are confronted with an al- 
most Shandean problem, by the circumstance of their living 
under the same roof in Holland, it is impossible to take much 
interest in her late. One is convinced that in reality she must 
have been * nae temptation.' Miss Grant is indeed a much 
stronger character than Catriona, precisely as Rebecca in Ivan- 
hoe is a much stronger character than Rowena. But she has 
not the making of a heroine in her. Rather, like Kirsteen, is 
she destined to become one of those dear, delightful, if also 
sharp-tongued old spinsters who gave pleasant parties, and 
otherwise helped to make Edinburgh winters tolerable half a 
century ago. It was doubtless when her hair was silvered, and 
when she delighted to give caustic little lectures on ethics and 
etiquette in her arm-chair that Mr. Stevenson met Miss Grant. 
But if Mr. Stevenson's women are still ambitious failures, his 
men are the reverse. James More is a superb scoundrel ; as 
such, indeed, he is a vast improvement on Rashleigh Osbaldis, 
tone, who, and not Rob Roy, is his predecessor in Scott's novel 
to which Catriona is more truly a sequel than it is to Kid- 
napped, Alan Breck, too, has mellowed with time ; he is not 
80 irascible, though he is quite as resourceful, as ever. Yet 
when all this is allowed, the fact remains that Catriona is 
simply a successful historical romance thoroughly well 
mounted by a stage manager whose imaginative genius is be- 
yond all question. Mr. Stevenson has not yet attempted to 
write a novel setting forth the Scotland of yesterday. So far, 

■— • — — ■; ;- 

Scottish Fiction of To-day, 45 

at all events he has not followed in the wake of Scott whose 
supreme novel, The Antiquary ^ dealt with the Scotland of his 

Mr. Barrie, although he is probably even more widely read 
than Mr. Stevenson, has yet to prove that he is in the same 
rank as a novelist. He has in fact yet to prove that he can be 
regarded as a novelist at all. He has no doubt produced two 
fictions of quite the orthodox length — When a MarHs Single and 
The Little Minister. But the first is Thrums, with a dash 
of ' Walker, London,' and the second is Fairyland, with a dash 
of Thrums. But for Thrums, neither would have the slightest 
chance of securing a place in the list of the very few books 
which have recently ' come to stay.' The London chapters in 
When a Man^s Single — the chapters of which the New (and im- 
possible) Journalist, Mr. Noble Simms, is the centre — are unmiti- 
gated farce. The Egyptian in The Little Minister is delight- 
ful, although some of her antics are a trifle too suggestive of 
the side-splitting modern comedy of the type of Charleys 
Aunt and The Private Secretary. But she belongs not to Scot- 
land, but to the realm of Oberon and Titania. What is worse, 
she quite transforms — ^if she does not positively demoralise — 
Mr. Dishart, by attempting to graft upon him what is mere 
undergraduate freakishness. The Dominie, too, in his character 
of Enoch Arden, is too obviously a mere after-thought. He 
has no more connection with the Dominie who entered into the 
joys and sorrows of the M'Quhumpha family than has the Mra 
Dishart of the Auld Licht Idylls and The Window in Thrums 
with the girl whose physical attractions caught the fancy of 
Lord Rintoul. But when Mr. Barrie plants his foot down upon 
his native heath, he makes no mistakes. The earlier or Thrums 
chapters of When a Man's Single are quite as good as anything 
he has written, and in The Little Minister, Nanny Webster, 
Tammas Whamond, and Weary world the policeman, are quite 
worthy to be placed by the side of Leeby and Jess and 
Tammas Haggart. In short, Mr. Barrie has, in his two most 
ambitious books, made some very important additions to his 
Thrums gallery, but he has not demonstrated to the world that 
he can write a novel which can be placed beside the master- 

46 Scottish Fiction of To-day, 

pieces of Mr. George Meredith, or even of Mr. Thomas Hardy- 
As a portrait-painter, even more perhaps than as a master 
of humour and of pathos, he is seen at his best in A Window 
in Thrums. But it is the Scotland not of to-day, but of the day 
before yesterday, that he sees through the panes of that win- 
dow. With his men and women of the present time— the boys 
and girls of his houseboats, the social biitterflies of his imagina- 
tion — posterity, at all events, will take but little account. 
But the immortality of Hendry and Jess, Leeby and Jamie, 
T'nowhead and Tammas Haggart, and indeed of all who sat 
on the pig-sty and severely criticised the occupants of the 
Auld Licht pulpit, is already assured. Yet it is only their 
gravestones that can be seen by the English pilgrims who 
crowd to Kirriemuir, as if it were a second Abbotsford ; even 
the lettering on these can be deciphered only with some diffi- 

What is true of Mrs. Oliphant, Mr. Stevenson, and Mr. Barrie 
is equally true of the very dissimilar authors of Kilmallie 
and Margaret Drummond. Mr. Henry Johnston is one of the 
few Scottish writers of to-day of whom it may be said that 
they are too modest and not sufficiently prolific. His literary 
claims — at all events his claims as a novelist — are represented 
by two works, Glenhuckie and Kilmallie^ which followed 
each other at a long interval, and which both deal with the 
almost uniformly still life of a Scottish country parish. By their 
form, rather than anything else, they recall the works of Gait, 
and more particularly the immortal Annals, But the strong 
point of Mr. Johnston's work is its painstaking realism. There 
is not one, even of his minor characters, that is not reproduced 
in every detail, while the clergyman who figures in and is the 
centre of both, is quite as lite-like as the ' Little Minister,* — 
perhaps even more life-like, as there is nothing of the New 
Humour in him. No greater compliment has ever been paid to 
Gait than the fact that M. Angellier, by far the most eminent of 
foreign biographers of Burns, should have considered it part of 
his preliminary pioneer duty to study The Annals of the Parish 
and its companion volumes, so as to reproduce the Scotland, and, 
in particular, the Ayrshire, into which Bums was born. Simi- 


Scottish Fiction of To-day. 47 

larly, the Scottish Buckle of the future, who may seek to pre- 
sent country-life before and immediately after the Disruption, 
will find what he needs in works not of the class of Mr. 
Barrie's Auld Licht Idylls and Mr. Crockett*s Stickit Minister, 
but of the class of Glenbuckie and Kilmallie. Such charac- 
ters as Mysie Shaw, the spae-wife, and Peter Shale, the 
betheral, and above all the worthy but simple minister himself, 
recording all the details of his life, from the outbreak of Non- 
Intrusion in his parish to the eruption of measles in his manse, 
are obviously drawn from the life ; they have, at all events, 
all the reality of coloured photographs. But Mr. Johnston, 
like his contemporaries, does not offer to reproduce the main 
stream of the Scottish life of to-day. His Scotland is the 
Scotland, of the Disruption and of the periods immediately 
before and immediately after that event, and, as last year's 
celebration of the Jubilee of the Free Church demonstrated in 
perhaps more ways than one, that is the Scotland of yesterday. 
And the same thiug is true of Miss Veitch, an author who 
writes of Scottish clerical life in a very different spirit from 
Mr. Johnston. The minister of Miss Veitch's latest and most 
powerful story, Margaret Drummond, Millionaire, is a narrow- 
minded fanatic, in whose case a hopeless and preposterous 
love rouses into baleful life a hereditary and homicidal mad- 
ness, and of whom the best that can be said is that he has a 
sister who is a great deal worse than himself. Miss Veitch 's 
dislike to bigotry makes her lapse occasionally into a 
positively Corinthian style, and one feels tempted every 
twentieth page or so to mutter for her benefit the Aruoldian 
watchword of ' Urbanity, Urbanity, Urbanity.' But apart 
from that, may it not be said with perfect safety that the 
miserable and hapless Mr. M'Gregor belongs to a type 
of clergymen that is nowhere to be found in Scotland, or 
at all events that lingers in some remote and inaccessible 
district, unmistakeably a survival of a past that was in 
theology a good deal more pedantic, and in religion a good 
deal gloomier than the present ? Even the pharisaical swindler, 
M'Burnie, has an antiquated look, although his misdoings are 
tolerably modern. In other words, Miss Veitch is forced in 

48 Scottish Fiction of lo-dar/. 

her latest work, as in its predecessors, to fall back for 
characters deserving of portraiture upon the Scotland not of 
to-day, but of yesterday — at the earliest. The younger 
writers, such as Mr. Crockett, the author of The Stickit 
Minister, Mr. WiHiara Wallace, the author of Scotland Yester- 
day, and ' Gabriel Setoun,' the author of Barncraig, are follow- 
ing in the steps of their predecessors, and, in the meantime, 
are devoting their attention less to types of character that are 
with us, and likely to endure, than to types that are disappear- 
ing or have recently disappeared. 

Can the reason for this declinature on the part of our 
novelists to deal with contemporary Scottish life be due 
to the fact that that life is so deficient in the elements of 
richness and picturesqueness as not to merit reproduction at 
ain If this be the truth it amounts in efi'ect to the humiliating 
confession that Scotland — the Scotland of Scott and Gait and 
Miss Ferrier — is played out as a literary field. For the same 
thing cannot be said of fiction which deals \vith the leading 
phases and problems of present-day English life. Mr. George 
Meredith stands admittedly at the head of living authors of 
fiction ; he is, as Mr. Con an Doyle has put it, the ' novelist's 
novelist.* Yet his best books, such as The Ordeal of Richard 
Feverely The Egoist, Diana of the Crossways, and One of our 
Conquerors deal with these phases and problems, though 
perhaps too much in the spirit of the man of the cloister, 
playing, in imagination, at being a man of the world. Next 
in order of merit comes Mr. Hardy. He, like Mr. Barrie, is in 
the habit of going to the highways and hedges, if not to the 
pig-sties, of life for his characters. But in Tess of the U Urbei*- 
villes, his latest work of importance — his greatest sensation, if 
not his greatest success — he has set himself deliberately, and, 
indeed, with a too defiant audacity, to tackle one of the lead- 
ing moral problems of the period. On the shoulders of Mr. W. 
E. Norris has fallen the mantle of Anthony Trollope, — his more 
fervent admirers would prefer to say of Thackeray. His style 
is that of Trollope, trimmed, however, to suit the present 
prison-crop taste in literature. And like Trollope, he sketches 
the men and women of his time, although he takes them 

Scottish Fiction of To-day. 49 

rather from the lawn-tennis ground and the sea-side promenade 
than, as did his predecessor, from the Bishop's study, the 
drawing-room of the prosperous country-town solicitor, and 
the parlour of the commercial traveller. Yet he receives — as 
indeed he deserves to receive — the steady support of the cir- 
culating libraries to an extent that is not accorded even to the 
high-priests of murder, mystery, and detectivism. Take again 
two very dissimilar works. Dodo and Robert Elsmere^ which 
resemble each other in this, that at a bound they have reached 
the topmost step in the stair of popularity. The success of 
both is due partially — although in the case of Robert KUnipre^ 
only partially — to the circumstance of their reproducing life 
as, in certain circles and under certain conditions, it is lived in 
England. Dodo is the most daring effort that has yet been 
made to reproduce realistically what used to be known as 
*the world of fashion.' It teaches the same moral, or want 
of moral, as the plays of Mr. Oscar Wilde and Mr. Arthur 
Pinero. The strain of Robert Elsmere is in an infinitely 
higher mood than the strain of Dodo. Even when the 
Oxford Hegelianism which figures in it has gone the 
way of all other ' isms,' it will be read for its exquisite de- 
scriptions of clericalised ccmntry life in England, and more 
particularly in Westmoreland, and for a prose eloquence, when 
the higher problems of Deity and Destiny come to be treated 
of, which places Mrs. Humphry Ward almost, if not alto- 
gether, on the level of George Eliot. But its original success 
— a success almost as great as that attained by Waverley, by 
The Pickwick Papers, by Vanity Fair, and by Adam Bede — is 
due to its having given expression — passionate expression — to 
a number of the more remarkable aspirations of the time, and 
to its having reproduced, for the benefit of England at large, 
that Oxford which is, and seems destined ever to be, its centre 
of ideas. Mrs. Ward has followed up Robert Elsmere with 
David Grieve, in which some of the chief democratic, ethical, 
and artistic problems of the period are dealt with. It has un- 
questionably not attained the popularity secured by its 
predecessor. But this is the fault of Mrs. Ward, who has tried 
in David Grieve to realise certain aspects of life with which 
xxiii. 4 

50 Scottish Fiction of To-day. 

she is obviously unfamiliar ; the problems which move her al- 
most to hysterics are themselves vital enough. 

Must we then accept the humiliating conclusion that the 
reason why we have not to-day a Scottish fiction representing 
Scottish life in all its breadth, or even in such breadth as 
English life is represented in, say Middlemarch and Robert 
Ehmere^ is that that life does not merit reproduction ? Must 
we admit that, so far as the great stream of literary 
tendency is concerned, Scotland is indeed but the knuckle- 
end of England? Are none of the men and women 
who do the hard work, not to speak of the hard pleasure, 
that still is done on this side of the Tweed — who constitute 
whatever may be left to us of national ingenium perfervidum — 
worth portraying ? Is Scotland to be nothing more than the 
happy hunting-ground of novelists in search of those ' dear, 
queer, quaint types/ at present being idolised by English pil- 
grims to Kirriemuir? Before an unhesitating negative can be 
given to these question, two concessions must be made. Scot- 
land does not possess a social — to be strictly accurate, a 
* Society/ — centre like London ; nor does it possess a centre of 
literary, ethical, and religious influence, such as Oxford is now, 
and such as Edinburgh was in the generation of Scott and of 
Jeffrey, and still more in the generation of Hume and Robert- 
son. Scotland has been convulsed over a Robert Lee seeking 
to improve public worship ; it never will be convulsed over 
even an imaginary Robert Elsmere sitting overwhelmed be- 
neath the ruins of his creed. It would be altogether inaccu- 
rate to say that the fashionable Dodo is extinct in Scotland 
— and for the all-sufficient reason that she has never existed. 
Beyond question, a new writer of Scottish fiction, seeking 
above all things to traverse the main road of the national life, 
would labour under no slight disadvantaq^es. The great for- 
tresses of literature are in possession of London cliques and 
Oxford coteries. Any author who does not himself belong, or 
who has not critical friends belonging, either to the one or to 
the other, must have an uphill battle to fight, unless, like that 
great literary Umpslopogaas, Thomas Carlyle, he can fight 
them with such a redoubtable Axe Groanmaker as the * Annan- 


Scottish Fiction of To-day, 51 

dale vernacular ; * for at the present moment style in literature 
means to all intents and purposes good London or Oxford talk. 
Finally, those men and women who, if they are not the 
most interesting personages in the country, yet undoubt- 
edly occupy the Front Benches in politics. Society, and 
literature, are to be found, and can, therefore, be sketched, in 
London alone. Lord Beaconsfield, as the author of Endymioiiy 
is purely a London product. Mr. Meredith may be essentially 
a novelist of the cloister, the chief business of whose Sir Wil- 
loughby Patternes and Lady Blandishes is, not to speak natu- 
rally, but to utter finely cut Meredithisms ; but he could not 
have drawn them at all if he had been in touch, or at any 
rate in telephonic connection, with London drawing-rooms. 

But while it must be confessed that novels dealing with 
London and with those forces — or figureheads — of Imperial 
life, which are to be found there alone, can be written no- 
where but in London, it by no means follows that these are 
the only works of fiction worth reading. As a simple matter 
of fact, the great majority of the novels which have become 
classics — almost all in fact, except one or two of the master- 
pieces of Dickens and Thackeray that are classics — deal with 
country life. This is true of the best by Miss Austen, by 
George Eliot, and by Mrs. Oliphant, by Scott, by Hardy,. and 
by Blackmore. Nor should it be forgotten that latter-day 
improvements in railway and telegraphic communication, if 
they have not absolutely abolished the Cheviots, have brought 
London nearer even to the smaller country towns of Scotland 
than it was to Manchester and Liverpool fifty years ago. 
Even assuming that existing political arrangements remain 
untouched, and that nothing of a serious character is at- 
tempted in the way of what is popularly, if also vaguely, 
known as ' devolution,' London is destined to become more 
and more to the rest of the United Kingdom what ' the city * 
is to the West End and the middle class suburbs — a place of 
business and not of life. The decline of provincialism, and still 
more of provinciality, must follow as a matter of course. And, 
to take the very lowest view, it follows that Scotland will 
share along with Lancashire, Yorkshire, and the English Mid- 

52 Scottish Fiction of To-day, 

lands in the benefits that are bound to fl >w from this decline 
in provinciality and the consequent growth iu urbanity, — which 
it is to be hoped will not be ev(*n iu the first instafice suburb- 
banity. When all is said and done, life in Kditiburgh is a ^ood 
deal more picturesque tharj life in Bith. There is as much 
energy in Glasgow as in Manchester, arid the artist in words — 
an important person in these days when the realism of uiiliness 
is happily giving way to the reah'sm of beauty — cannot find in 
Lancashire anything comparable to that unique variety of 
scenery which even Scott has not exhausted, anH which half a 
crown places in half an hour at the coinmand of the Trongate. 
No doubt our country life lacks tlie repose that is to be found 
in Southern England — that repose which must ever be associ- 
ated with Anglicanism, and wluch tempts one to say with 
Clough, ' All cathedrals are Christian, all Christians are cathe- 
drals.' But this very repose produces monotony in life and uni- 
formity in character. To seekers after * quaint types/ S( ottish 
country towns present more variety of life, more ' humour ' — 
embodied in individualities — than correspondino^ towns in 
England. Then Scotland, no less than England, has its absorb- 
ing 'questions,' the fire and fury — meaning very little, perhaps, 
but interesting enough while they last — of imperial and 
local politics, all indeed that constitutes the raw material of 
the novelist who takes a comprehensive view of life, and does 
not believe he has completely discharged his duty by his 
readers when, at the end of his third volume, he has satisfac- 
torily disposed of Tybalt and Paris, and has established 
Romeo and Juliet in a house in Park Lane, bought by Mr. 
Montagu, and furnished by Mr. Capulet. We, as well as our 
neighbours, have our ' labour problems,' our ' religious unrest,' 
our party caucuses, our fierce competition of middle class lite, 
our social vulgarity, and our * darkest Scotland.' A Provost, 
painted by Gait, is more certain of immortality, because he is 
truer to life, than the Mayor of Casterbridge, even when painted 
by Mr. Hardy. The nearest approach to an ideal Scottish novel — 
in the sense of a novel dealing with the largerrealities of Scottish 
life — that has recently been published is perhaps My Ducats and 
my Daughter^ wri^tten by the Rev. Mr. Hay Hunter and Mr. Walter 

.: . ■■. ■- --^ -y-lj..»..-JaJ 

Scottish Fiction of To-day. 53 

Whyte, and which, maiuly on account of the 'strength' of 
some of the portraits, was warmly praised by several of the 
leading literary journals in London. In the matter of plot, 
My Ducats and my Daughter was by no means strong. It was 
not quite coherent, and indeed suggested the idea that the 
collaboration of the authors was not so eflFective as it might 
have been, or as, say, the Erckniann-Chatrian and Besant-Rice 
colloborations have been in the past. But the chapters 
dealing with journalistic life were exceptionally clever, though 
a note of subacidity was observable in some passages, and, 
above all, the humours of an election in Scotland — an election 
of to-day, not of the day before yesterday — were brought out 
with rare skill and appreciation of the genuine character.stics 
of Scotsmen belonging to a certain social grade, and living 
in one or other of our smaller country towns. But, at the best, 
there was far more of promise than of performance in My 
Ducats and my Daughter, and its authors have not f )llowed up 
their experiment with another venture ot the sanne kind. The 
Scottish novel of the time, dealing with the Scottish life of 
the time, in a spirit akin to, and yet different, from the spirit 
of the late Mr. Laurence Lockhart and the authors ot My 
Ducats and my Daughter, has yet to be written. Meanwhile, the 
field is partially occupied by those of the works of the writer 
who still elects to be known in literature by her maiden name 
of * Annie S. Swan,' which set forth the modern aspect of Scot- 
tish, and especially of Scottish working-class, life. They have 
a popularity which is only equalled by, and can best be com- 
pared to, that attained by the novels that appear in the French 
Petit Journal, They are simple, they aire wholesome, the 
bulk of them are 'real;' although, in one of the latest. The 
Guinea Stamp, Mrs. Burnett-Smith commits precisely the same 
blunder that Mrs. Humphry Ward commits in David Grieve — 
she attempts as in the chapter in which a Glasgow mu^^ic 
hall is put upon her stage, to reproduce life with which she is 
obviously unfamiliar. Above all things, the novels ot Mrs. 
Burnett-Smith, like Mr. Barrie's works, seek, in the face ot a 
rebellion which is essentially artificial, to perpetuate the tradi- 
tion and enforce the sanctions of morality based upon piety. 

54 Scottish Fiction of To^ay, 

At the same time, it is do disrespect to Mrs. Burnett-Smith — 
who, by the way, seems destined to fall into Mrs. Oliphant's 
blunder of writing far too much, and so of doing injustice to 
herself — to say that the Scottish novelist of the future will 
work a richer vein of life and character than she has done, 
although it may be hoped, and indeed believed, that like her, 
and like Mr. Barrie, he (or more probably she) will do full 
justice to those so-called humble folk who are the moral aris- 
tocracy of a country that is not priest-ridden, but is, and ever 
will be, conscience-ridden. 

But it would be idle to spend time and ink in speculating 
further as to the possible appearance and characteristics 
of *the demi-god whom we await* in fiction. What are the 
diflFerentiating features, what — which is happily the same 
thing — are the permanent excellences of the fiction that 
we actually have? One of the first stands out with special 
prominence. That is the growing (but only growing) tend- 
ency of the Scottish writer of fiction, due no doubt to 
the present day habit of reading (by preference) when running, 
to tell his story as directly and simply as possible. The 
warmest admirer of Scott, the man who is grateful to Scott 
for being what Carlyle, in a momentary impulse of contempt, 
styled him, — an intellectual restaurateur^ — must allow that his 
favourite's long prefaces are intolerable, and that the majority 
of his digressions are unreadable. It would, of course, be 
sheer flippant impudence to say that ' Scott would not do in 
these days.* Scott was above all things a man of his time, 
and had he been born into ours, would have adapted himself 
to its necessities, and would have sought to gratify its wishes. 
But he lived in a time and for readers of comparative leisure ; 
and his digressions were no more looked upon as tedious or 
irrelevant than were descriptions of scenery delivered by a 
host of the old school to a guest whom he was driving at an 
easy pace through a beautiful stretch of country. But a novel 
is, as a rule, read now-a-days as a means of getting a mental 
rest after hard and rapid work, or of getting rid of the tedium 
of a railway journey, and the novelist who aims in the first 
instance at popularity, has to confine himself strictly to inci- 

' .^ .^ L'^-a.-.^l^g 

Scottish Fiction of To-day. 55 

dent and character. Novels tend more and more to resemble 
plays ; yet the Scottish tendency to digress, to preach and to 
moralise, is still to be observed in some of our modem writers. 
Mrs. Oliphant, as a rule, tries nowadays very bravely to repress 
the tendency, but she occasionally yields to it. It is even more 
marked in Mr. Stevenson; the habit of stopping by the way- 
side and reflecting upon life seems, indeed, to be growing 
upon him. Mr. Barrie, on the other hand, has cultivated a 
style of demure directness; he leaves his characters almost 
severely alone to speak and act for themselves. Truth to tell, 
he does not shine as a moralist. There is a soupqon of Tupper 
in such a sentiment as, ' Let us no longer cheat our consciences 
by talking of filthy lucre. Money may always be a beauti- 
ful thing. It is we who make it grimy.' Again, very true 
but also very ineflfectual is * This family affection, how good 
and beautiful it is. Men and maids love, and, after many 
years they may rise to this. It is the grand proof of good- 
ness in human nature, for it means that the more we see 
of each other the more we find that is lovable. If you would 
cease to dislike a man try to get nearer his heart.' Compare 
such very thin gruel in the way of reflection with the delight- 
ful sentence in which Mr. Barrie closes and sums up the 
career of one of his. worthies. — * The moral of his life came in 
just as he was leaving it, for he rose from his death-bed to 
hide a whisky bottle from his wife ? ' 

Another leading characteristic of the modern Scottish nove- 
list is his or her inclination — amounting almost to a passion — 
to regard himself as above all things an artist. Mrs. Ward has 
spoken of the *golden art' of Mr. Stevenson, and he himself haS 
told the world through interviewers how hard he labours to give 
the crowning glory of perfection to his style. As a historical 
novelist, he ijs as truly the successor of Scott as Kidnapped and 
Catriona are sequels to Rob Roy. But he has none of the 
slovenliness of that busy irregular-looking man whom Carlyle 
saw vti Edinburgh, when sorrow had ploughed lines in his face, 
and death had marked him for its own. It is quite true that 
Mr. Stevenson's work does not show the massiveness of Scott's, 
that he has not Scott's broad human sympathies, that his 

56 Scottish Fiction of To^ay, 

humour, if not objective rather than subjective, is a8 a matter 
of the head and not of the heart, that while he can give us a 
Miss Grant or a James More, or an Alan Rreck, he cannot by 
the mouth and the practice of a Bailie Nicol Jarvie preach the 
whole gospel of Scottish pawkiness — a pawkiness that has 
prudence for its basis, but yet has no fellowship either with 
cowardice or with cruelty. But to his honour be it said, Mr. 
Stevenson has, by his preachiug and by his successful perform- 
ance, driven inartistic work in Scottish fiction out of the 

Mr. Barrie's work bears no resemblance whatever to Mr. 
Stevenson's. It is notable not for its style, but for its (appar- 
ent) absence of style. Mr. Barrie supplies the popular demand 
for 'snippets.' He has always before him the fear of the 
dictator of the bookstall who ' cuts the dialogue,' and ' skips 
the descriptions,* that he may plunge into incident, or revel 
in character which is revealed by humour. But although he 
does not, like Mr. Stevenson, wear a velvet coat openly and 
almost ostentatiously, Mr. Barrie is unquestionably an artist, 
and of a very high order. In * interiors,* and in * types' of 
* humble life,' he is absolutely without a rival, and almost 
without a second, either in England or in Scotland. Apart 
from his humour, apart from his pathos, which in places would 
be almost intolerable but for the humour which shines through 
it, the chief figures in his gallery, Cree Queery and Mysie 
DroUy, Nanny Webster and Tammas Whammond, and above 
all Hendry and Jess and Leeby, and the son from London, are 
immortal; they are the perfection of subjective Teniersism — 
and of something more than subjective Teniersism — in Scottish 

But is it quite certain that * description ' will be conspicuous 
by its absence from the Scottish fiction of the future? No one 
will say it is desirable that this should be so. Scottish scenery 
is still as remarkable as ever it was, as attractive to the 
stranger within our gates, as much of a silent and inscrutable 
force in the shaping of careers and in the moulding of char- 
acters. A Scottish fiction which absolutely ignores Scottish 
scenery, must, even though it should throb with Burnsian in- 


Scottish Fiction of To-day, 57 

tensity, be accounted as incomplete and artistically unsym- 
metrical. The word ' description ' is almost certain in this 
connection to bring the name of Mr. William Black to the tip 
of the tongue. lu these days when ' boom ' succeeds * boom * 
in literature with breathless and headachy activity, the critics 
of Scottish fiction have by common consent given Mr. Black a 
back seat. This is not very surprising. Mr. Black has him- 
self given the critics cause to blaspheme. His latest work is 
not at all up to the level of his earliest His strange (and 
commonplace) adventures in houseboats and elsewhere are a 
weariness of the flesh. But A Daughter of Heth is one, not 
only of the sweetest, but of the most artistic stories that have 
ever been written. The Whaup is as assured of immortality 
as any of the creations of Mr. Stevenson or Mr. Barrie. But 
Mr. Black's day — let us hope it has not quite ceased to be — 
was emphatically the day of 'descriptions.' He was notoriously 
in demand with the constituencies of the circulating libraries, 
because of the purple heather and other * patches ' which he 
deliberately made an important feature of his stories. He re- 
presented the art of Glasgow and the West of Scotland — at 
all events of the pre-impressionism days — projected into fiction. 
May it not be hoped that even if deliberate ' patch ' work be a 
thing of the past, our novelists of the future will not quite 
ignofe the influence of Nature upon human life and mood ? 
Here, for instance, in the latest of Mrs. Oliphaut's works. Sir 
Robert's Fortune^ now running in one ot the magazines, is a 
piece of ' description,' which is something very diflFerent from a 
* patch ' : — 

' The lingering sunset died over the moss with every shade of colour 
that the imagination could conceive. The heather flamed now pink, now 
rose, now crimson, now purple ; little clouds of light detached themselvea 
from the pageant of the sunset, and floated all over the blue, like rose 
leaves scattered and floating on a heavenly breeze ; the air over the hills 
thrilled with a vibration more delicate than that of the heat, but in a 
similar confusion like water, above the blue edges of the mountains. Then 
the evening slowly dimmed, the colours going out upon the moor, tint by 
tint, though they still lingered in the sky .; then in the east, which had 
grown gray and wistful, came up all at once the white glory of the moon. 
It was such an evening as only belongs to the North. An enchanted 

58 Scottish Fiction of To-day. 

hour, neither night nor day, bound by no vulgar conditions, lasting for 
ever, like Lily's mood, no limits or boundaries to it, floating in infinite 
vastness and stillness, between heaven and earth.' 

Here we have a far higher and, indeed, heavenlier * graphic ' 
than can be found in the pages of Mr. Hardy. This passage 
is the accent, nay the ecstacy of Wordsworthianism — an 
ecstacy which it may be hoped will never desert Scottish life 
or Scottish fiction. 

Finally, it may be claimed for the Scottish fiction of to-day 
that it has no fellowship with the unfruitful works of Jin de 
sihcle Decadence. There may be degrees of merit among our 
novelists, but it may be claimed for all of them — for Mrs. 
Oliphant as well as for Mrs. Burnett-Smith, for Mr. Stevenson 
no less than for Mr. Barrie — that they keep ever flying the 
standard of purity and sirapHcity. The latter-day gospels of 
sensuality and suicide have found no exponents on this side of 
the Tweed. The vehement moral sensationalism which Mr. 
Hardy has enunciated in his Tess of U Urbervilles has made no 
headway with ua. Mr. Stevenson is as familiar with French 
as with British literature. Ho probably knows Baudelaire and 
Verlaine as intimately as he knows Meredith. But he has 
directly protested against the * erotic mania,* the black cloud 
of which would appear to be at last passing from the powerful 
mind of M. Zola. He places the heroine of his latest story, as has 
already been noted, in a position of almost Shandean difiiculty ; 
but he extricates her from it with the chivalry of a Harry Esmond 
or a Thomas Newcome. It would be hardly possible to exag- 
gerate the influence for good which Mr. Black and Mr. Barrie 
have had upon two generations of Scotsmen and Scotswomen 
through their teaching by example. Scott placed the stamp 
of purity upon Scottish fiction, as before him Burns had 
placed the stamp of purity upon Scottish song. The tradition 
of Scott will he handed down unsullied to the latest genera- 


Art. IV.— marshal MACMAHON. 

1. The Times, October 18-20, 1893. 

2. The Journal Des Debats, October 18-22, 1893. 

IN the last days of October 1893, the gay capital of France, 
suddenly put on mourning in the midst of a brief season of 
joyous excitement. The most distinguished chief of her old 
Imperial army had passed away in his peaceful home, not far from 
the ancient town of Montargis, which had been the abode of his 
later years ; and the death of Macmahon was followed by national 
mourning. France, always generous to chivalrous valour, forgot 
the frightful disasters in war, of which the Marshal was largely 
the cause, and the political intrigues of his short day of power ; 
she thought only of the dash at the Malakoff, of the march 
to Magenta, of the heroism of Worth, and of a character, noble, 
with all its faults ; and she grieved for the brilliant soldier 
she had lost, as she had grieved for some of her most illustrious 
worthies. The remains of Macmahon, borne in military state, 
in the presence of silent and reverent crowds, were laid 
for a moment in the Madeleine — designed as a Temple for the 
Grand Army — and they were thence carried through the state- 
liest ways of Paris, accompanied by the grandeur of war, in sor- 
row, and amidst a scene that told of deep national feeling, and 
were placed under the dome of the Invalides, not far from those 
of Turenne and Napoleon. Nothing was wanting to give effect 
to the solemn spectacle ; the new Army of France, the bodies of 
the State, the centres of Letters, Science, and Art, sent chosen 
representatives to the funeral rites ; the bier of the warrior was 
decked with wTeaths, emblems of the regret of many a foreign 
sovereign ; and even the monarchs of the Triple Alliance com- 
bined against France gave tokens of sympathy. Yet the most 
striking sign, perhaps, of the general sentiment, was exhibited 
in another way. Paris had been overflowing with passionate 
delight as she had received the envoys from the fleet of the 
Czar, in whom she saw the pledges of the League with Russia, 
in which France has placed her hopes for the future ; yet, at the 

60 Marshal Macmahon, 


intelligence of the death of Macmahon, her noisy acclaim was 
hushed in a moment, and her multitudes wore a look of no 
feigned sorrow. It was felt, in a word, we may say in Europe^ 
that an interesting figure had disappeared from the scene, when 
the grave had closed on the departed warrior, and the occasion 
is a fitting one to review •his career, and to endeavour to pro- 
nounce a just judgment on it. 

Maurice Edme Patrice de Macmahon was a scion of the 
princely stem of the O'Briens, for ages celebrated in Irish his- 
tory. The Macmahons, like other chiefs of the old Celtic race^ 
took up arms for the Stuarts in 1689-90, and were found in the 
ranks of the warlike exiles — * the wild geese ' of a pathetic legend 
— who emigrated to France, in the time of Sarsfield, when the 
cause of Ireland was lost after the fall of Limerick. More than 
one ancestor of the future Marshal served with honour in the 
famous Irish brigade, and intermarried with noble French fami- 
lies, and the representatives of the name, when the Revolution 
broke out, remained true to the falling Bourbon monarchy, with 
the great majority of their brother officers. Charles Laurence 
de Macmahon, the warrior's father, was an emigr^ in the camp 
of Cond6, and a devoted follower of the Comte D' Artois ; and 
though he returned to France under the reign of Napoleon, he 
took no part in the wars of the Empire, and having married a 
daughter of the great house of Caraman, he became a member 
of the higher noblesse of France, still attached at heart to their 
loyal traditions. Macmahon was born in 1808, at the chateau 
of Sully, not far from Autun ; and having learned the rudi- 
ments at a seminary in the town, was sent, in 1825, to the mili- 
tary school of St. Cyr, to prepare himself for the profession of 
arms. The prospects of the cadet were good, for his father, a 
cordon rouge of the restored monarchy, remained intimate with 
Charles X., and he obtained his first commission, if we mistake 
not, in the corps d'ilite of the Eoyal Guard. It is a tradi- 
tion that he attracted the notice of the King by a singularly 
daring feat of horsemanship, an art in which he excelled through 
life ; but, be this as it may, he, no doubt, held his own in the 
brilliant ranks of a martial array, which in some measure revived 
the memories of the Maison du Koi of Steenkirk and Landen. 

Marshal Macmahon, 61 

The young oflScer, however, was attached ere long to the Staff ; 
but its severe studies had no attraction for him, though not ill 
read in the history of war ; and soon after the expedition of Bour- 
mont he was placed on the roll of the army designed to extend 
the power of France in Algeria. By this time the throne of 
Charles X. had fallen ; and Macmahon, full of Legitimist sympa- 
thies, was only dissuaded from quitting the service, in which he 
was to win a distinguished name, by the earnest entreaties of his 
aged father, who had known the bitterness of an emigre's lot. 

During the protracted, arduous, and incessant contest, in which 
France gradually made her arms advance from a strip of the 
Mediterranean coast, to the wilds of Sahara, and the verge of 
Morocco, Macmahon served continually with the Algerian army. 
Indeed, if we except the short campaign, which terminated with the 
Siege of Antwerp, he saw nothing of European warfare, in the 
years which formed him to a soldier's calling ; he became simply 
a French Algerian officer. He served under chiefs of the old 
Grand Army, Drouet D'Erlon, Clausel, and Damremont, and 
under their successors of the new school, Changarnier, Cavaignac, 
and Lamorici^re; and though his rise was by no means rapid, he 
made his mark for feats of astonishing daring, occasionally dis- 
tinguished by judgment and skill. He amazed Arabs and 
Kabyles by the gallant charges he made at the head of a handful 
of horsemen, and by his prowess as a fearless rider ; he mounted 
the deadly breach at Constantine, by the side of Niel, and the 
Due de Nemours ; he was conspicuous in many of the fierce con- 
tests in which Abdel Kader, the Jugurtha of his age, challenged 
the claim of France to the old realm of Numidia. He became, 
in a word, one of the foremost soldiers of an armv famous for its 
headlong courage ; was repeatedly named in orders of the day, 
and was a leader among the gallant band of officers, D'Aumale, 
Bosquet, D'Allonville and others, who had won their first spurs 
in Alfijerian warfare. Macmahon attracted too the attention of 
Bugeaud, by far the first of the French chiefs of the day, anJl the 
real conqueror of Algeria ; he was made Governor of Constan- 
tine after Isly ; and he distinguished himself greatly in putting 
down the rising of the tribes of Sidi Braham, in 1845, a holy 
^ar against the French Infidels. In his case, however, as in 

62 Marshal Macmahon, 

that of his companions in arms, Algerian experience, there can 
be little doubt, was not calculated to make adepts in war, on a 
great scale, in Europe. Sudden attacks made on half barbarian 
tribes by flying columns, without artillery, dashing cavalry 
charges at short distances, and campaigns which were merely 
raids, were not a preparation for scientific warfare, for strategy i» 
the highest sense, for tactics against Continental armies, even 
for military knowledge of real value ; and the methods of the 
great days of Napoleon, were gradually forgotten by the chiefs of 
the army, which knew only of African triumphs. The fact did 
not escape the deep thinking soldier who was studying, in those 
years, with intense earnestness, the combinations which led to 
Jena and Austerlitz, and was learning with patient reflection 
how to adapt the movements of war to the conditions of a new 
era. Long before he had believed it possible that he would lead 
the hosts of Germany to the walls of Paris, Moltke had expressed 
the opinion that the guerre de chicane which had gained renown 
for French chiefs in Algeria, actually unfitted them for the grande 
guerre of Europe. With other of his comrades, Macmahon was 
to prove, by notable instances, that this judgment was just. 

Macmahon was forty before he obtained a brigade, and was 
made a general of division by Napoleon III., after the coup d'etat 
of the 2nd December. He remained, however, a Royalist at 
heart ; and it is said that when the votes of the army were taken 
in favour of the newly risen Empire, he declared that he only 
followed in the wake of his comrades ; an indication, perhaps, of 
the weakness of purpose which was a defect in his noble char- 
acter. He was not in the army which made the descent on the 
Crimea, in the autumn of 1854 ; he had no part in the deeds of 
Alma and Inkerman, or in the first long stages of the Siege of 
Sebastopol. He did not join in the expedition until its end was 
at hand ; and in the summer of 1855 he was placed under the 
command of Bosquet, the chief of the second French corps 
d'arme6, who, in Algeria, had been subordinate to him. By this 
time the great siege, protracted for months, through the want 
of due preparation at first, through the engineering skill of 
Todleben, and by the stubborn constancy of the Russian troops, 
was not far from its tremendous close, but Sebastopol, in its 

Marshal Macmahon. 63- 

agony, still defied its enemies. Slowly, and after intense efforts, 
the advanced works before the fortress had been subdued, the 
Mamelon and the Quarries had been captured, and the 
batteries of the besiegers seprched with their fire along a semi- 
circle ever drawing in the whole space covered by the beleagured 
city. The army of relief, too, had been stricken down, along the 
Tchernaia, in a great effort; no further reinforcements could 
reach the garrison, for the resources of the Empire could yield 
no more, and the sufferings of the besieged soldiery, ravaged by 
a continuous * fire of hell,' and scarcely able to man their 
shattered ramparts, were as frightful as had ever been seen in war. 
Yet the great assault of the 18th of June had failed, the 
Malakoff still covered the approaches to the place, and along 
the whole front, from the Quarantine to the Flagstaff Bastions,^ 
and the Little Redan, the defences, ruined and defaced as they 
were, and menaced by foes gathering in on all sides, were still 
held by undaunted men, and opposed a barrier even to the 
boldest enemy. In these circumstances the allied commanders, 
and especially the fierce and tenacious Pelissier, who had doggedly 
fastened on his intended prey, resolved to make a great effort to 
bring the struggle to a close, for otherwise indeed, they could 
hardly prolong the siege. On the 5th of September, 1855, fire 
opened from all parts of the allied lines, along an arc of many 
miles in extent, from the Cemetery towards the west, to the 
Careening bay eastwards; and under a tempest of missiles, 
raging for three days and nights, the defences yet available 
were still further destroyed, and thousands of the brave garrison 
perished. The final assault, which was to embrace every assailable 
point in the Russian works, was arranged to take place on the 
8th of September, and Macmahon was selected to attack the 
Malakoff, the main key of the entire position, as had been 
indicated by Burgoyne from the beginning of the war. 

The great effort which caused the fall of Sebastopol wa& 
carried out on the appointed day. An incident was turned by 
the allies to account; it had been ascertained that the troops 
in the Russian works marched out of them before . they were 
relieved by others ; and noon, the moment when this occurred, 
was selected for the universal attack. From west to east dense 

64 Marshal Macmahon, 

masses of armed men burst out from the trenches, and though 
assailed by shot and shell along the space between, endeavoured 
to storm the defences of the places ; but from various reasons 
these assaults failed ; and the Central and Flagstaff B istions, 
the Main Redan and the Little Redan, with the Curtain between, 
were successfully held by their brave garrisons. It was otherwise 
at the Malakoff, the decisive point, on which the result of the 
struggle depended. On each side of this work the ground 
was more easy for siege operations than anywhere else ; the 
trenches were only twenty-five yards from the fort, and the space 
to be traversed by the assaulting columns was thus considerably 
less than at other spots. Exactly at noon, the very nick of time, 
Macmahon launched his troops against the projecting salient ; 
ways skilfully concealed made the approach easy, and the French 
soldiery rapidly passing the ditch, which had been already well- 
nigh effaced, had soon entered the head of the work, at this 
instant almost without defenders. This success, though promis- 
ing, was not complete; rows of traverses presenting lines of resist- 
ance, had been constructed around the MalakoflF, and these 
became the scene of a murderous conflict, as thousands of Russians 
emerged from the pits and caves in which they had been 
accustomed to hide in order to avoid the allied artillery. A, 
regular battle raged for some hours ; Macmahon's brigades were 
hardly pressed by soldiers, determined to * do or die,' and he 
has recorded in an interesting letter that the conduct of the 
Russians was * truly heroic' At last, however, he was largely rein- 
forced. Whether he let fall the historic words ^ j'y suis j'y reste ' 
has been lately questioned, but he gave proof of great personal 
courage and skill ; he made the best use of every advantage he 
won ; and he set an admirable example to his men and their 
officers. The victory of the French was assured by four in the 
afternoon, and it was favoured by the circumstance that, as the 
gorge of the Malakoff had been completely closed, fresh reserves 
of the enemy could not be brought up to attack. Even then 
Macmahon had to guard against mines, which it was believed 
had been laid to destroy his troops ; he superintended this task 
with coolness and daring, and by nightfall the key of Sebastopol 

Marshal Macmahon. 65 

had been placed in the allies' hands. His was certainly the 
master stroke of this eventful day. 

The capture of the Malakoflf was a fing^e^loit.that brought 
out Macmahon's best qualities in war, undatintea bravery, skill 
in handling troops, and presence of mind and prompt intelligence. 
It was, however, only a brilliant feat of arms that gave no proof 
of the higher faculties of a chief, and in fact it was just the kind 
of achievement to be expected from a gallant Algerian soldier. 
Macmahon, however, was justly rewarded; he was made a 
Grand Cross of the Legion of Honour, and became a Senator of 
the Second French Empire, and he was in France for a short 
time after the return of the army from the Crimea. He was a 
loyal subject of Napoleon III., though still attached to the 
Faubourg St. Germains, and in the Senate he showed an inde- 
pendent spirit, not improbably in his master's real interests, by 
voting against one of those aggressive laws too common in all 
periods of French history, of which the attempt of Orsini against 
the life of the Emperor was made the convenient pretext. We 
find him next in Algeria again, under Marshal Randon, as 
Governor-General, and he distinguished himself greatly in 
1856-7, in a difficult campaign against the Kabyles. We pass on 
to the first occasion in which he played a part in European war 
on a great scale in the open field. He was made commander of 
the 2nd Corps of the combined French and Sardinian armies, 
which liberated Italy in 1859, and the operations, in which he was 
a chief actor, gained him a place among bold and successful 
chiefs, though they have been made the subject of some adverse 
comment. Macmahon, a lieutenant only of Napoleon III., had 
nothing to do with the plan of the celebrated march — even still 
a controverted study of strategy — by which the Emperor turned 
the extreme Austrian right ; atid we need only refer to his 
movements, on the day of Magenta, in the first instance. On 
the 3rd of June, Macmahon was on the eastern bank of the 
Ticino, around the small town of Turbigo, at the head of some 
27,000 men ; the Emperor was on the western bank, not far from 
the passage at San Martino, with less than 10,000 men in hand, 
and about eight or nine miles from Macmahon. The Sardinians 

were not far from that general, in the rear, and the rest of the 

66 Marshal Macmahon. 

French army was from a march to half a march distant. The 
surrounding country was so close and difficult that the positions 
and movements of the Austrians had not been ascertained in the 
camps of the French ; and the general purpose of the Emperor, 
it would seem, was that the Sardinians, and his 1st, 3rd, and 
4th Corps, in the rear, should cross the Ticino at Turbigo, and 
that his collected army should then unite, either to attack the 
enemy, or to advance on Milan. As he intended, however, to 
cross at San Martino himself, he directed Macmahon to draw 
near him, calling up perhaps the Sardinian contingent, but his 
arrangements prove that he did not believe a great battle was 
close at hand.* 

In the early forenoon of the 4th of June, the Emperor and his 
division had reached the Ticino. The passage at San Martino 
was effected easily, but the wide line of the great canal beyond^ 
to be crossed only by two bridges, and crowned by a high-raised 
dyke, opposed a formidable barrier to an attack. Finding this 
position of vantage more strongly occupied by the enemy than 
he had thought possible. Napoleon suspended his movement 
forward, waiting until Macmahon should, from Turbigo, effect 
his junction with him, around Magenta, a little town just 
beyond the canal. Macmahon, leaving the Sardinians in the 
rear, had meanwhile set off from Turbigo, dividing his army into 
two masses apart ; and there is no reason to doubt that, like his 
superior, he believed he could reach Magenta without much 
resistance. The Austrians, however, had two eorps d^anneey 
unknown to the French, around the place, and two more at no 
great distance ; and Macmahon, discovering that he was con- 
fronted by an enemy in considerable strength, arrested also his 
march onwards, after an insignificant and hurried skirmish, until 
he had all his forces collected. A gap, therefore, of several miles 
was left between the two parts of the French army ; the Em- 
peror, nevertheless, in the belief that his lieutenant, the sound 
of whose guns had been heard, was certain to reach him in a 

* The reader who cares to study thoroughly the campaign of 1859, may 
^consult Major Adam's Great Campaigns, General Hamley's Operations of 
War, editions 1889 and 1866, and the masterly sketch of Moltke. 

- •• •*•'• 

Marshal Ma/cmahon. ^^ 

short time, renewed his attack in full force, and pressed forward 
to cross the canal, and so to force his way into Magenta. His 
troops, part of the Imperial Guard, the flower and pride of the 
French army, attacked with fierce and persistent courage, drove 
the Austrians from the bridges they held, and made good their 
footing beyond the canal ; but their impetuous onset was ere 
long arrested. The enemy, reinforced by part of his 7th corps, 
soon to be strengthened by part of the 3rd, fell boldly on the 
weak French Division, resuming the offensive at all points. A 
furious struggle raged for some time, and though parts of the 
3rd and 4th French corps, summoned hastily to the field, and 
late, removed gradually the overwhelming pressure, the position 
of the Emperor had become most critical. During those hours 
of peril, Macmahon had made no sign ; he had been delayed in 
drawing his troops together, the country around was so intricate, 
and more than one voice in the Imperial staff asserted that the 
General, always a Royalist, was a traitor, or a second Grouchy 
at best. At last, however, Macmahon had his whole corps in 
hand ; he pressed forward to Magenta, and fell boldly on, and 
the Austrians were driven by degrees from the town, after a 
resistance which must be pronounced feeble. The battle was 
over before night fell, and the uniting French divisions con- 
centrated around Magenta by the morning of the 5th. It was a 
brilliant, if not a well prepared victory, and good judges have 
thought that if proper use had been made of the Austrian 
reserves — a common defect in Austrian tactics — the result of the 
fight would have been different. 

At Magenta about 54,000 Frenchmen overcame perhaps 
58,000 Austrians ; but the battle would have been hardly a 
defeat, save for the great number of Austrian fugitives, a sifrn 
of the discords of race in the Austrian army. The success of the 
Emperor was partly due to the superior energy of his choice 
infantry,* and partly to Macmahon's attack ; but Magenta was 
ill directed on both sides ; and as a specimen of war, it only illus- 
trates a truth proved by a hundred examples, how dangerous it 
is to attempt to unite a divided army on a given field, in the pre- 

* Moltke, Campaign of Italy, 96. French translation. 

^»8 Marshal Macmahon. 

sence of a concentrated enemy. Macmahon has been blamed by 
more than one critic for pausing in his march in the forenoon; 
and this certainly misled Napoleon, and gave the Anstrians a 
favourable chance. But the greatest master of war in our time 
distinctly asserts * that he acted rightly in suspending his move- 
ment against a powerful enemy of whose real strength he had 
no knowlediie ; he showed prudence and skill in his conduct; 
and he attacked with determination when he had all his troops 
in hand. lie was named Duke of Magenta by a grateful master 
whom he had extricated from peril of no ordinary kind ; and his 
conduct at Magenta, though less brilliant, resembled that of 
Di'^saix at Marengo. The warrior was the observed of all obser- 
vers when the French entered Milan in triumph ; fair hands 
strewed flowers and tapestrj' in his path ; and the anecdote is well 
known how he caught up a child, amidst the shouts of exulting 
multitudes, and rode with his young burden through the delighted 
city. Macmahon had an honourable part in the battle that fol- 
lowed, but he did not decide Solferino, as he had done at Magenta. 
Tliis great fight was another chance encounter, without any 
marked results on the field, though it virtually brought the war 
to a close. Tlie Austrians, about 160,000 strong, and with a 
large RUj)eriority of force in guns, but ill arranged, and with 
8i»veral corps in the rear, were attacked, as they advanced from 
the Mincio, by the French, somewhat superior in numbers, but 
possessing the advantage of rifled cannon ; and after a confuse^ 
and bloody conflict, the Austrian centre fell back when Solferino 
was lost, and the whole Austrian army was driven from the field. 
Macmahon held the right centre of the French in the battle, on 
tlie great plain to the south of the hills, and the manner in which 
he handled his infantry and a large mass of horsemen sent to his 
support, was juHtly praised by judges on the spot. The brunt 
of the conflict, however, fell on the Imperial Guard and on the 
^Ith corps of Niel, on the French right; and it was mainly de- 
(ridt^d by the superior fire of the rifled French artillery, brought 

* Jh'ui.y 85. 'Lo gdndral crut done utile de r6unir d'abord sea forces 
avant d'entror dans un engagement s^rieux. II eut une vive inquietude, 
bien fondii reate, d'etre attaqu6 luimferae/ See also p. 101-2. 

Marshal Macmahon, 69 

boldly to the front, while the Austrian batteries were, to a great . 
extent, left useless in the rear and altogether paralysed. 

The operations of the leaders, on either side, in the Italian 
campaign of 1859, were marked by shortcomings and do not 
show genius ; and the attentive strategist who followed them at 
his desk, at Berlin, has carefully pointed out how defective they 
were, and has indicated how imperfect, in many respects, was the 
organisation of the contending armies. In the eyes, however, of 
the idolaters of success, the French army had reached the ex- 
treme of excellence, and Macmahon was held up to admiration 
as one of the greatest of chiefs. Having been placed on the roll 
of the Marshals of France, the Duke of Magenta was sent, in 
1861, to the coronation of King William of Prussia ; and this 
embassy, a sign of the irony of fate, was made notable for its 
magnificent display, and for a grand exchange of courtesies 
between Berlin and Paris. Macmahon was ere long on his old 
field of fame, and having been made Governor General of 
Algeria in 1864, was absent from France during the eventful 
period which witnessed Sadowa and the sudden rise of Prussia. 
It has been said that this was a kind of splendid banishment, the 
penalty of legitimist sympathies ; but if the Marshal was, per- 
haps, not consulted in the project for the reorganisation of the 
French army, brought forward by Niel in 1868, and made fruit- 
less by routine and faction — a calamitous passage in the history of 
France, for the military power of Prussia was but too manifest 
— he certainly enjoyed the full confidence of a kindly-hearted 
master since he had won Magenta. His proconsulship fell on a 
disastrous time ; the colony was wasted by disease and dearth ; 
the Arabs and Kabyles more than once stirred, and the experi- 
ment, tried by Napoleon IH., largely to replace military by civil 
power, and to make free citizens of wild nomade tribes, proved, 
as was to be expected, a costly failure. The rule of Macmahon 
was chiefly noted for his splendid hospitality to the foreign visi- 
tors, especially to the English, received at his levies; his wife, 
a great lady of an old regime family, was a very brilliant and 
charming Vice-Queen ; but he performed the duties of his office 
well, and he was judicious and wise in opposing steadily the 
fanaticism of an over zealous bishop, who tried to proselytize at 

70 Marshal Maemahon. 

the hazard of a religious war. Fortune up to this time had 
smiled on the Marshal, but she was now to show how false is her 
smile, and the warrior was to prove, by most striking instances, 
how immense is the difference between a mere brilliant soldier, 
and a general in chief of a high order, on a really grand theatre 
of European warfare. 

At the outbreak of the great war of 1870-1, Macmahon was 
placed at the head of the 1st corps d^armee^ the flower of the 
French troops in Algeria. The Emperor had confided to the 
Marshal his plan — borrowed from that of Napoleon in 1815 — of 
separating the hostile armies by a bold advance ; but we do not 
know if it had his lieutenant's approval. Macmahon was not in 
any sense responsible for the maladministration of the Imperial 
army, for its disorganised state when it reached the frontier, for 
its dissemination upon a wide arc, when an offensive movement 
was deemed impossible ; all this must be laid to the charge of 
Napoleon III., and of negligence and incapacity in the French 
War Office. It is more than doubtful, too, if the Marshal was 
to blame for the perilous exposure of the single division of Abel 
Douay overwhelmed at Wissembourg ; this has been suggested 
by the Prussian Staff, but General Ducrot, in the French camp, 
has said the exact contrary.* The responsibility of Macmahon 
begins on the 5th of August, and certainly it was sufficiently 
great. On that day he was given the command of the whole 
French right wing on the verge of Alsace, the 1st corps, the 5th 
and part of the 7th ; f he knew that Douay's division had been 
routed on the 4th, and he knew, though imperfectly, so deficient 
was the exploring power of the French cavalry, a service which 
they had almost forgotten, that the Third Army, of the Crown 
Prince of Prussia, could not be distant, and was in great force. 
He drew together the troops he had in hand, the 1st and part of 
the 7th corps, and he sent a message to Failly, the chief of the 
5th corps, in the first instance, to come to his aid, with the two 
divisions that Failly disposed of at the time. He countermanded 

• Prussian Staff History, Part I., Vol. I., p. 122. Ducrot, in reply, 
* Wissembourcr.' 

t The remaining part of the 7th corps was also given to Macmahon, but 
it was leagues away at Belfort. 

Marshal Macmalion. 71 

however, this message, on the 6th, at least did not insist on his 
previous order, and directed Failly to send one division only ; * 
he was ignorant in fact of the real strength of his enemy, and 
was contemplating a bold offensive movement on the flank and 
rear of the Third Army ; and this fatal error was the cause of a 
great deal that followed. The Marshal, however, hearing that 
the Germans were at hand, drew up his army in a position of 
most formidable strength, against foes not in overwhelming 
numbers, and resolved, if challenged, to accept battle. The 
stream of the Sauer ran before his front, his line was protected 
by fortified posts and villages on eminences difficult to subdue, 
but giving opportunities to counter attacks, essential for a 
determined defence; and if assailants on his flanks might become 
dangerous, in the event of powerful couverging attacks, they 
formed obstacles of a most imposing kind. Macmahon, confident 
it is said of the result, — ^Messieurs, les Prussiens, je vous 
tiens,' he exclaimed to his staff — placed the five divisions he had 
on this line, unaware that he was about to encounter an 
army fully three-fold in strength. 

These movements led to the great fight of Worth, most 
glorious to the arms of France, though fatal. The Crown 
Prince, in command of fivef corps d'arm^e, had intended to defer 
the attack for a day, until his forces had been fully collected, 
but the eager zeal of subordinates hurried on a conflict, ill 
directed at first, and altogether premature, as happened more 
than once on the German side in the war. In the early morning 
of the 6th of August, the 5th Prussian corps fell on the French 
centre ; and its efforts were supported by the 2nd Bavarian corps 
issuing from the woodlands on Macmahon's left. These attacks, 
however, proved wholly fruitless ; the superiority, indeed, of the 

* This has been denied by apologists of the Marshal, but there can be 
no doubt on the subject. Compare Pnissian Staff History, Part I., Vol. 
I., p. 145. General Derr^cagaix*s *La Guerre Moderne,' Tome 2, p. 179, and 
Failly, Operations et Marches du 5me Corps, p. 12. 

t For accounts of the battle of Worth compare the Prussian Staff History , 
Part I., Vol. 1, pp. 147, 192 ; General Derrecagaix,*ia Guerre Modenve, 
Tome 2, pp. 178, 205, and Hamley's Operations of War, p. 396, 403. 
Ed. 1889. 

72 Marshal Macmahon. 

German guns made itself manifest from the first moment, bat 
an attempt made by part of the 1 1th Prussian corps to assail the 
French right centre was bravely repulsed, and the defence had 
for a time a distinct advantage. The battle now raged along 
the whole line, efi|)ecially around the little town of Worth. 
Macmahon handled his troops with practised skill, making 
counter attacks at the right moment, and turning the ground to 
good account ; and, in fact, orders arrived from the German 
head-quarters to impend a struggle that wore an ominous aspect. 
It proved impossible, however, to comply with these ; by degrees 
the pressure of overwhelming numbers told as the German 
divisions reached the field ; and the right wing of the French 
was at last turned * by the remaining part of the 11th Prussian 
corps, and by the Wurtenibergers covered by the woods of the 
Niederwaldouthispartoftheline. A magnificenteffortof the French 
cavalry was unable to arrest defeat at this point ; but the French 
infantry rallied on their centre, and, making at Elsasshausen a 
determined stand, maintained for a while the still doubtful 
contest. During all this time the 5th Prussian corps, supported 
on its right by the 2nd Bavarian, was furiously assailing the 
Marshal's centre, between Froschwiller and Elsasshausen ; but the 
resistance the Germans encountered was so fierce, so well 
sustained, and so skilfully j)rolonged, on ground difficult to the 
assailants, that no perceptible progress was made. At last, how- 
ever, the 1st Bavarian corps came to the aid of the hard pressed 
5th. The French, utterly outnumbered, began to give way, and 
another noble charge of their splendid horsemen proved unable 
to throw the enemy back. The Germans, now in irresistible 
force, gathered in from all sides on their doomed foes ; and the 
French centre was pierced through and through, the wings falling 
off in precipitate flight. Macmahon, who, so to speak, had 
fought a desperate battle to the last gasp, was, with difficulty^ 
removed from the field of disaster ; and the retreat of the French^ 
though in some measure covered by the single division of Failly's 
corps, summoned by the Marshal, and arriving late, ere long^ 

* The 1st and 2nd Bavarian, and the 5th and 11th Prussian corps, and 
equal to one corps, the Baden and Wurtemberg divisions. 

Marshal Macmahon, 73 

became a mere headlong rout. The beaten army lost nearly half 
its numbers, and a fourth part of its ^uns, and fled in utter 
disorder in dissolving masses towards Niederbronn, to the left, 
and Hagenau, on the right, divided by the intervening spurs of 
the Vosges. 

At Worth about 46,000 Frenchmen, with some 120 guns of an 
inferior kind, resisted for hours more than 100,000 Germans, with 
from 300 to 400 guns. The battle sheds lustre on the arms of 
France ; but had not the attack been at first premature, and had 
not the German divisions been brought up piecemeal, and at 
wide intervals of time to the field, the contest could not have 
lasted so long. The German tactics, in short, were wasteful of 
power, and they revealed the mistakes of a chance encounter, 
though the German leaders were daring and capable, and acted 
admirably in concert when committed to the fight. If we look 
at W(5rth, as an isolated passage of arms, Macmahon gave proof 
of remarkable skill, tenacity, and heroic courage ; he made the 
best use of the three arms, if we except cavalry charges, that were 
somewhat reckless ; and his protracted defence was a fine exploit. 
But, if we consider his conduct as a chief on the whole, an im- 
partial observer must give a different verdict. It is diflScult to 
understand how, after the rout of Douay, he remained in ignor- 
ance of the strength of the enemy in his front ; it is no excuse 
for him that his cavalry officers were not used in the work of ex- 
ploring ; he should have made it his duty to ascertain all about 
the Third Army. Had he taken this precaution, he, no doubt, 
would not have attempted to make a stand at Worth, against foes 
fully three fold in numbers ; he would have retreated on the 
main army, and this might have given the campaign a wholly 
different turn. Even if he had wished to fight on the 6th — and 
had he been better informed, this seems hardly credible — he 
should have called in both Failly's divisions ; this was possible 
had he not shown remissness; and in that event, if he 
could not have won * the battle, he probably would have averted 
a rout. If his tactics, too, on the field were excellent, he showed 
recklessness in not retreating sooner, when assailed on all sides 
by overwhelming numbers; he could have fallen back, with 
honour, when his right was turned ; and had he done this he 

74 Marshal Macmahon, 

might have marched to his supports, and strongly reinforced the 
Imperial array — he probably could not do this at the close of the 
battle, for his troops had become a mere horde of fugitives — with 
consequences of extreme importance. In a word, he sacrificed his 
army by a succession of faults, and proved that he did not 
understand the situation as a whole ; and the results were in the 
highest degree calamitous. The defeat of Worth uncovered the 
right of the Army of the Rhine, and contributed to the disasters 
at Metz that followed.* 

The rout of the French was so complete at Worth, that Mac- 
mahon's army ought to have been destroyed, had it been more 
vigorously pursued by the enemy. But no horsemen were sent 
along the roads to Hagenau, to press the Marshal's broken right 
wing ; a detachment, moved on the Niederbronn road, was held 
in check by a weak hostile force ;t and the only pursuit, in 
itself feeble, was directed towards Bitche — the wrong direction — 
for it had been assumed, in the German camp, that Macmahon 
was in retreat on the main French army.f Macmahon was thus 
enabled to escape, and rally troops in a state of despair ; Failly, 
too, effected his retreat from Bitche — a movement quickly and 
skilfully made, amidst foes threatening him on both his flanks — 
and joined his superior on the 8th of August; the third German 
army lost all contact, for more than a fortnight, with its defeated 
foes ; § and Macmahon and Failly made their way, unmolested, to 
the upper Moselle and the Mouse. The retreat of the Marshal has, 
been described as able, but really it was nothing of the kind ; he 
never tried to incline towards the main army of the French, 
which certainly should have been his object ; § and he owed his 

* Some remarks of Napoleon on Ney, a chief of much the same type as 
Macmahon, may here be noted. Comment, , 5, 200, ed. 1867 : — *Tou 
jours le premier dans le feu, Ney oubliait les troupes qui netaient pas 
floOB ses yeux. La bravo ure que doit montrer un general en chef est 
dififerente de celle que doit avoir un general de division.* These words, 
indeed, are applicable to Macmahon*s career. 

+ Prussian Staff History, Vol. I., Part I., p. 199. 

X Ibid,, p. 198 ; Ibid,, p. 256 ; Ibid,, p. 200. 

§ Possibly, however, the Marshal had received orders to fall back on 

Maral^al Macinahon, 75 

safety to the slackness of an ill-managed pursuit, and to the 
slowness of the operations of the German leaders. The left and 
centre, too, of the Army of the Rhine, though in a position of 
extreme danger, recoiling, through Lorraine, in confusion and 
distress, its chiefs in a state of alarm, nay panic, the troops de- 
moralised and losing heart after the double defeats of Worth and 
Spicheren, and its right flank altogether laid bare, was permitted 
to escape through the same tardiness,* and but for fatal divisions 
in the Imperial Councils, it could have made good its way to 
Chalons and renewed the contest under more hopeful auspices. 
This was very different, on the part of the Germans, from the 
march of Napoleon on the path of conquest ; and it would not be 
difficult to prove that a largely superior force might have been 
combined against the retreating armv, before it reached the line 
of the Moselle, and that it might have been overpowered in a 
decisive battle fought between the 10th and the 12th of August. f 
The Third German Army, however, was not set in motion to cross 
the Vosges until the 8th of August ; the First and Second 
Armies did not advance until the 10th, and an opportunity was 
lost by the German chiefs. The truth is that a rapid pursuit of 
the enemy was no part of Mi)ltke's design ; he was deficient in 
this gift of a great captain ; and his purpose after Worth and 
Spicheren was to call up his huge reserves, and not to invade 
France without an immense superiority of forces. This strategy 
is not to be lightly censured, but it gave his adversaries chances 
that need not have been given. 

* Apologists for Moltke, who wish to conceal the slowness of his pursuit 
— his most characteristic defect in war— have insisted that the French 
army was still in high heart and condition. The contrary is proved by 
overwhelming evidence. See Adands, Great Campaigns, p. 533 ; Metz 
Campagne et Negociatiotis, p. 50 ; Bazaine, A rmee du Rhin, p. 41-2-6 ; 
Bazaine, Guerre de 1870, p. 42. 

t This is not a place to work out the problem. It may be enough to 
refer to this remark of Major Adams^ an enthusiastic admirer of Moltke : — 
Great Campaigns, 614-5. * The one quality in which Von Moltke seems 
deficient is that of reaping the full and instantaneous fruits of victory. 
The time that was permitted to elapse after the first struggle lost to the 
Germans the opportunity of bringing the war to a brilliant and rapid con- 

76 Marshal Macmahon. 

By the middle of August Macniachon and Failly had made 
good their way to the great camp of Chalons, They were soon 
reinforced by the 7th corps, of which the chief part had been 
moved from Belfort, and by the 12th corps, a newly raised levy 
which had been hurriedly despatched from Paris. The Marshal 
received the command of the collected force, which numbered 
from 130,000 to 140,000 men, with between 300 and 400 guns— 
his heroism at Worth had won French hearts— and what was he 
to do with this still large army, the last army which France could 
send into the field? By this time Gravel otte and Mars la Tour 
had been fought; Bazaine was being invested at Metz, with his 
gallant but most unfortunate army ; Moltke, with admirable 
forethought, had added the Army of the Meuse to the Third 
Army ; and the great invading host, probably 240,000 strong, 
was advancing into the plains of Champagne, preceded by tens 
of thousands of horsemen. The position of affairs on the theatre 
of war was plain and before the eyes of the Marshal : he knew 
that Bazaine had not escaped from Metz ; he knew that the 
Germans were not far off in such immense force that he could 
not hope to fight * ; and he knew, further, that the army in his 
hands, composed largely of defeated troops, of Gardes Mobiles^ 
and of marines from the fleets — good soldiers but not inured to 
fatigue — could not be a trustworthy instrument of war. In these 
circumstances, he, at hrst, adopted a course dictated by common 
sense and prudence. Paris, for many years a gigantic fortress, 
already prepared to resist an enemy, and the centre of the national 
life of France, lay before him a few marches distant, and he 
made up his mind to fall back on the capital, where his raw army 
could manoeuvre with effect, sustained by defences of formidable 
strength, and where it could be made the nucleus of the great 
levies which French patriotism would, doubtless, array. As it 
was important, however, to delay the enemy, he resolved, while 
keeping his line of retreat open, to take a position on the flank of 
the German invasion; and, accordingly, on the 21st of August, 
he marched on Rheims with his four corps, the 1st, the 5th, the 
7th, and the 12th, intending from thence to descend on Paris; 

♦ Prussian Staff History ^ Part I., Vol. II., p. 127. 

Marshal Macmahon, 77 

this movement, too, it will be observed, placing him nearer 
Bazaine than he had been at OhS.Ions, for Bazaine might possibly 
get out of Metz. This was well-conceived and judicious strategy, 
and had Macmahon held firm to his purpose, France would not 
have lost Alsace and Lorraine, or signed the calamitous Treaty 
of Frankfort. 

The Marshal, however, a hero in the field, had not the clear 
and comprehensive view which embraces the situation, as a whole, 
in war ; and above all, he had not the steadfast constancy which 
refuses to be moved by unwise counsels, the best gift of nature 
in every walk of life, and especially the best in the case of a 
general-in-chief.* In the operations of the French up to this 
point in the campaign, reasons of State had set military con- 
siderations at nought, and this fatal error was to be repeated 
with appalling results. On the 21st of August, t M. Rouher, 
despatched by the Regency, arrived at Rheims, and entreated 
Macmahon, on political grounds, not to fall back on Paris, but to 
advance eastwards to the relief of Bazaine, known by this time 
to be within Metz ; but the Marshal positively refused at first, 
and insisted on a retreat to the capital. Ere long, however, an 
unhappy incident changed a resolve perhaps even now shaken. 
On the 22nd, a message arrived from Bazaine, announcing that 
he was still around Metz, but expressing a hope, though in am- 
biguous words, that he might perhaps be able to leave the fortress 
and to make good his way to Montmedy, from whence he might 
hope to descend on Chalons. The Marshal saw in the despatch 
a plain assurance that Bazaine was on the march to meet him ; 
and, in an evil hour for France and himself, he listened again to 
the voice of the tempter, and consented to abandon the only true 
course, and to set off to try to join hands with his colleague. 
This project was one of the most fatal in the circumstances that 
was ever formed in war. Macmahon was practically committed 

* See a striking passage in Napoleon's Commentaries, III., 470 ; ed. 1867. 

+ For the events which from this point of time ended in the catastrophe 
of Sedan, the best authorities are the Prussian Staff History, Vol. II., 
part I., pp. 171, 537, and Macmahon's evidence before the Enqu^te Parle- 
mentaire held after the war. Many other works may also be consulted. 

78 Marshal Macmahon, 

to a march on Metz, for Bazaine was still bound to the spot ; 
Metz was nearly a hundred miles distant ; the Army of the 
Meuse already almost stood in his path ; and the Third Army 
was only a few marches to the south. The French chief, there- 
fore, was about to make a flank march of the most perilous and 
difficult kind, in the presence of an enemy who held the chord of 
the arc on almost every point of the theatre, and, therefore, was 
almost certain to reach him ; he was to do this with a bad army, 
unequal to rapid and great efforts, well organized armies being 
at hand and able to strike with irresistible force ; and he was to. 
do this in a position in which a defeat might drive him across the 
frontier, and compel him to lay down his arms in Belgium. Nor 
was this all, nor even nearly all : he was, wuth scarcely a real chance 
of success, nay with ruin staring hini in the face, directing his 
army from its true object, the defence of Paris, and the gathering 
round it the elements of a national resistance to the foe ; he was 
sacrificing for a chimera his country's interests ; he was throwing 
away its one good chance of safety. 

On the 23rd of August, 1870, Macmahon set off on his ill- 
starred venture. His object was to cross the Aisne, and to reach 
the Meuse at the well known passages of Dun and Stenay, and 
then he would not be far from Montmddy, though still at a con- 
siderable distance from Metz. Celerity, he knew, was his only 
chance, and the Armv of Chalons — it had received the name — 
marched rapidly over the plams between Rheims and the Suippe. 
The difficulties of the enterprise, however, had already begun ; 
no preparations had been made for a sudden movement, the 
weakness of the army was even now apparent in impedimenta in 
the rear, and bands of stragglers ; signs of insubordination had 
become manifest, and the Marshal was compelled to turn north 
to Rethel in order to rally his troops and to procure supplies.* 
The Germans, meanwhile, had moved into Champagne ; their 
horsemen had discovered, on the 23rd, that the enemy had left 
the camp of Chalons, but Moltke remained convinced for a time 

* Enquete Parlementaire : ' IS^ous etions mal organises/ the phrase of the 
Marshal, expressing in a few words what other Writers have fully de- 

Marshal Macmahon. 79 

that Macmahon was making his way to Paris; he gave his 
adversary credit for good sense and judgment. By degrees, 
however, intelligence was obtained that the Army of Chdlons 
was on its way to the east. At a Council of War held on the 
24th, a general officer expressed his belief that Macmahon was 
trying to join Bazaine, and Moltke at last made up his mind that 
* political requirements might have outweighed all military con- 
siderations,' and that the Marshal was on his way to the Meuse. 
His plan of operations, formed on the 25th, carried into effect a 
few hours afterwards, and marked by admirable insight and skill, 
was first to await the enemy on his march and then to take 
means to surround and destroy him. For this purpose, the Army 
of the Meuse nearer the river, we have said, than the French, 
was to make its way across to the eastern bank; two corps, 
detached from the siege of Metz, were to advance and to come 
into line with it ; the united mass was to take a position on the 
uplands between the Moselle and the Meuse, and it was to inter- 
cept and attack the Army of Chalons as it was advancing to 
reach Bazaine. This effort promised real success, for it would be 
superior even in numbers to its foe, and infinitely superior in 
military power. Meantime the Third Army, to the south, was 
to move northwards through the tract of the Argonne, and to fall 
on the flank and the rear of Macmahon as he was seeking to 
attain the Meuse, a movement that might cause his complete 
overthrow. By the 27th of August, the two German hosts, 
well prepared, well directed, and well supplied, were marching to 
the points marked out for them ; and the operation, masterly in 
design, and undertaken almost on the spur of the moment, alike 
showed Moltke's capacity in war, and the excellent organisation 
of the armies he led. • 

While the Germans were thus gathering on their imperilled 
foes, the Army of Chalons had made very little progress. It 
had been compelled to make a long halt at Rethel, and by the 
25th even its foremost divisions had advanced only a few miles 
from that place, and lay around the Aisne, between Attigny and 
Vouziers. On the following day a patrol of German cavalry 
came in contact, at Grand Pre, with a weak body of French 
horse, covering the right flank of Douay's 7th corps ; and 

80 Marshal Macmahon. 

Macmahon sent part of his 1st corps towards Vouziers, this again 
causing delay and confusion. By the 27th it had been ascer- 
tained that the Germans were closincr on the French army. The 
Army of the Meuse held Dun and StOnay, barring the Mease at 
the most direct passages ; masses of German horsemen were on 
the Marshal's flank, holding the roads to the still distant river, 
and the Third Army was fast approaching by St. Menehould 
and Clermont en Argonne — scenes memorable in the campaign 
of Valmy. Macmahon perfectly aware of his danger, for a 
moment returned to the true course ; he resolved to extricate his 
army, if there was yet time, and on the evening of the 27th he 
gave orders for a general retreat on M^ziire?!, northwards, in the 
hope of being able from that place to descend by the valley of 
the Oise on the capital. This might, even at the eleventh hoar, 
have averted ruin, but once more the unfortunate chief yielded 
to the fatal influence that had led him astray, and sent him upon 
a disastrous path. After midnight a message arrived from Paris 
adjuring the Marshal to go on, and to advance to the relief of 
Bazaine, for ' otherwise revolution would break out,* and 
Macmahon,* knowing that the act was wrong, consented to 
resume a hopeless movement, conduct which history must 
describe as criminal.f He left his army divided into two great 
masses, the 12th and the 1st corps to the left, the 5th and the 
7th corps to the right, and he directed their chiefs to incline 
northwards, for the enemy held Stenay and Dun, and to press 
forward as quickly as possible. The Army of CliMons was on its 
way on the 28th, but its advance, in spite of every effort, was 
difficult and slow. The weather was bad, the roads intricate, 
' erratic and inconsiderate marches had made the temper of the 
French troops dangerous, the right column was harassed by the 
hostile cavalry, increasing in numbers every hour, and abandoned 
impedimenta and thousands of disheartened men gave presage 

* Enquete Parlamentaire : * C'est alors que fiit ex^ciit^ ce malheureuz 
mouvement, la chose la plus malheureuse qu'il y ait eu durant toute la cam- 
pagne.' Macmahon was a high-minded and just man with all his faults ; 
his evidence is throughout candid. 

+ See on this point the emphatic language of Napoleon Comm&iit.y T., p. 
420, Ed. 18C7. 

Marshal Macmahon. 81 

already of disaster at hand. The Army was still nearly thirty 
miles from the Mease, bearing in mind the tortuous roads and 
•defiles, and reckoning from the divisions in the rear, and its posi- 
tion even now was perilous in the extreme. Its chief, however, 
it is said, was again confident — the hot fit succeeding the cold — 
as is often the case with emotional natures. 

During these reckless and halting operations of the French, 
Moltke had been throwing his net around his doomed enemy. 
He had calculated that Macmahon might reach the Meuse on 
the 26th or 27th of August ; and, for this reason, he had, we 
have seen, sent the Army of the Meuse across the river, and 
called up the two corps from Metz, to stop the Marshal between 
the Meuse and the Moselle. The French, however, were still 
far west of the Meuse, so the German commander recalled 
the army of the Meuse to the western bank of the stream, and 
sent back the two corps detached from Metz, his idea probably 
being that he could assail the Army of ChS,lons about the 30th 
of August, and overwhelm it with the two German armies. 
The course of events was somewhat different, though it led to 
even a worse catastrophe. Failly, the unlucky chief of the 5th 
French corps, the leading division of the right column of the 
Army of the Meuse on its way to the Meuse, had not received 
his superior's orders, to turn away from Dun and Stenay — the 
officer bringing the message was made a prisoner — and he was 
making for these points when he was attacked and defeated on 
the 29th, near the village of Nouart. He then endeavoured to 
march northwards, but he was surprised and caught in his camps 
at Beaumont — an oasis amidst dense masses of woodland — on tl^ 
30th, by part of the Army of the Meuse ; and though he made, 
for a time, a stern resistance, he was forced to retreat in disorder 
on Mouzon, his troops being nearly driven into the river. Mean- 
while, the 7th corps, the rear of the right column, encumbered 
by a convoy of immense size, had to run the gauntlet of numerous 
foes on its flank ; it lost men in hundreds, cohesion and disci- 
pline, and it was well nigh a disorderly wreck before it reached 
the Meuse on the 30th, and got over the river. The fortunes of the 
left column, kept away from the enemy, were less disastrous, 

though by no means auspicious. The 12th corps was over the 

82 Marshal Macmahon. 

Meuse by the 29th, but part of it re-crossed the river next day^ 
to give aid to the routed 5th corps, in its precipitate retreat from 
Beaumont, and it suffered heavily, and caught the contagion of 
defeat. The first corps only remained intact, and this composed 
of the soldiers of Worth and the -best part of the Army of 
Chalons, was moved on the 30th across the Meuse, a large 
detachment being sent on to Carignan, on the roads leading to 
Montmedy and Metz, for Macmahon, it is said, had not lost con- 
fidence. Three-fourths, therefore, of the French army were 
already beaten and almost breaking up, before a general battle 
had been fought, and, in the meantime, the Army of the Meuse 
was rapidly advancing towards its intended prey, while the large 
masses of the Third Army were being moved in the same direction, 
along the roads between the Aisne and the Meuse, and extending 
over the tracts between. 

Macmahon, at this moment, had reached Carignan, and, so 
strange are a gambler's illusions, he believed, it is said, that the 
Army of Chalons could still successfully make its way to Metz. 
This, it may be affirmed, had already become impossible, and the 
Marshal was on the verge of destruction, for the Army of the 
Meuse was stopping his advance, the Third Army was closing on 
his rear; he was still more than fifty miles from Metz, and the 
besieging army of Prince Frederick Charles lay between him 
and the army of Bazaine. At the intelligence of the defeat of 
three-fourths of his army, the Marshal hastily retraced his steps, 
and gave orders, by the ni^ht of the 30th, for a general move- 
ment upon Sedan, an ancient fortress of the fourth order, stand- 
ing amidst plains and hills on the banks of the Meuse. By the 
morning of the 31st, the whole Army of Chdlons was congre- 
gated on the appointed place of junction, but it presented a 
mournful and ominous aspect. The troops of the 1st corps still 
bore themselves well, but those of the three beaten corps were 
in a state of disorder, and almost of mutiny ; the surrounding 
country was strewn with trains, waggons, guns, and small arms 
abandoned and thrown away, and the army was half famished 
and seething with discontent. * Nevertheless, the Marshal had 

* Compare Wimpflfen, Sedan, p. 137. La JourrUe de Sedan, by Ducrot, p» 
41. Macmahon Enquete Farlementaire, 

Marshal Macmahon. 83 

Mill a chance of safety had he possessed the resource of a great 
captain, such as Napoleon exhibited at the Beresina. On the 
31st, the chief part of the Army of the Mouse was upon the 
eastern bank of the river, or making its way to effect the passage, 
that is, it was far to the south of Sedan ; the mass of the Third 
Army, if drawing near, was still nearly a march from the for- 
tress, and the Army of the Chalons could still march westwards, 
if with difficulty, and threatened on its flank by the enemy. On 
the other hand, the fortress of M^zieres was half a march to the 
west of Sedan, and a fresh corps, the 13th, under General 
Vinor, had reached the place, hastily despatched from the 
capital. Had Macmahon, therefore, at this supreme crisis, given 
a few hours rest and food to his troops, and then, forming a bold 
decision, moved with the bulk of his army on Mezieres, aban- 
doning part of his material and his worst soldiery, and breaking 
down the bridges on the Meuse, he probably would have effected 
his escape, assailed and harassed as be might have been on his 
way. This movement — conforming to the principle of war that 
beaten army should seek its supports — had been already thought 
out by Ducrot, the skilful chief of the first corps.* and much an 
abler man than the Marshal, and it was indicated on the 31st 
by the ill fated Emperor, who had followed the army on its 
march from Chalons, and who, to do him justice, had utterly 
disapproved of the fatal resolution of the 28th of August. Had 
Macmahon taken this step, at the last moment, he might have 
lost 20,000 or 30,000 men; he might have been severely worsted 
on his march; but he would, it is likely, have saved three-fourths 
of his army, and in that event, he would have reached Mezieres, 
joined Vinoy, and made good his retreat on Paris. 

Resolution and insight were, however, wanting to France in 
that miserable hour of her destiny. The precious hours of the 
31st were lost ; a Council of War, that plain sign of weakness, 
was held ; and the Marshal decided, not on retreating, but to ac- 
cept battle where he stood at Sedan. Little doubt can exist that 

See Ducrot, JourrUe de Sedan, pp. 10-18. 

84 Marshal Maemahon, 

he had no notion the Germans were near in irresistible force ; * 
but he did not even take the precaution of breaking down the 
bridges on the Meuse, which separated him from the hostile 
armies ; and he made no arrangements in the event of a defeat, 
though his intention was still to try to break out by Carignan, 
and if successf ul, to press on to Metz. He took a position, like 
that of Worth, strong against an enemy not greatly superior, but 
strategically as bad as could be conceived, for a lost battle meant 
being forced into Belgium ; and he arrayed his army on a semi- 
circle of uplands overlooking Sedan and the adjoining valley. 
His best troops, the 1st and the 12 th corps, held the Givonne 
and the villages on the stream, for this was the direct way to 
Carignan ; the routed 5th corps filled the space in the rear ; and 
the 7th corps occupied the front to the west, covered by the 
villages of St. Menges, Fleigneux and Floing, by the great bend 
of the Meuse hard by, and by the fortifications of Sedan, and 
guarding the important heights of Illy, the real key of the posi- 
tion as a whole. Maemahon stood boldly on the ground of van- 
tage, and he exclaimed — so bitter is the irony of fate — ^that he 
would 'not brook to be shut up like Bazaine, and driven hemmed 
in upon a fortress.' f These fatal dispositions, in any case unwise, 
marked by vacillation, perhaps by despair, and to . be explained 
only on the assumption that the Marshal was unaware of the 
numbers of his foes, gave Moltke the opportunity he had sought 
for some days. He had not struck Maemahon down, before the 
Meuse was reached, as it appears he had expected ; and, 
on the morning of the 31st, he had only hoped to drive him 
across the Belgian frontier, and so to compel him to cease to resist. 
His adversary, however, was now standing at bay, his army 
drawn up around Sedan, where the loss of a battle would mean 
ruin ; and the army of Chalons was already in the toils. Orders 

* Wimpffen Sedan, p. 145. * Le Mar^chal croyait pouvoir porter de soix- 
ante a goizante dix mille homnes la mas^e totale des forces ennemies 
. . . de ce c6tt$ dela Meuse.* 

t * In Campaigne de 1870, j usque, 1^' September, Par un officier de 
^^ Tarmee du Rhin.' Prince Bibesco, p. 105 : * II dit que son intention n'^tait 
pas de s'acculer a une place forte comme le Mar^chal Bazaine, mais de 

Marshal Macmahon, 85 

were given on the Slst for a great night march ; the army of the 
Mease was to advance to the Givonne and to assail Macmahon on 
his eastern front ; the Third Army, which had been moving all 
day, but had its outposts only on the Meuse, was, leaving con- 
siderable detachments behind, to cross the river and close on the 
western front, preventing the means of escape to Mfoierfes ; and 
should the heights of lUy be once carried, the uniting armies 
would surround their enemy and hurl him headlong into the 
valley below, where nothing could avert his complete destruction. 
It was a master-stroke admirably planned and delivered. 

Sedan, a day of woe and mourning for France, was fought on 
the 1st of September, 1870. The First Bavarians, detached from 
the Third Army, attacked Bazeilles, a suburb of the town, to the 
south-east, in the early dawn ; and the dense masses of the Army 
of the Meuse marched against the villages and the course of the 
Givonne. The resistance of the French was fierce and determined, 
and for some time the Germans made no impression on positions 
well defended and of natural strength. An unfortunate incident 
had occurred : Macmahon, riding forward to this part of the line, 
was struck down by the splinter of a shell ; and he handed over 
the command to Ducrot, who, we have seen, had made up his 
mind that a retreat on M^zieres was the only chance of safety. 
Ducrot at once gave order for a general movement, in that direc- 
tion, by the heights of Illy, but he was superseded in his post by 
Wimpffen, an officer, who had been sent from Paris, to replace 
Macmahon, in the event of his fall, and who, like the Marshal, 
thought the best course for the army of Chalons was to break out by 
Carignan. The only hope of escape was thus lost to the French, 
and confusion was caused by these counter orders,, even though 
probably the result of the fight, as conducted by Wimpffen, could 
not have been different. By degrees the pressure of superior 
force told decisively on the hard pressed French as the Guards 
came into line with the army of the Meuse : the positions on the 
Givonne were stormed, and the defenders were forced back into 
the lowlands beyond. Meantime a destructive tempest of war 
had been gathering upon the north-western front of Macmahon's 
battle, and his doomed army. The Third Army, swiftly and 
admirably moved, had crossed the Meuse by the early morning, 

86 Marshal Macmahon, 

and two of its corps, the 11th and the 5th, the Wurtembergers 
being detached to the left, to bar a possible retreat on Mezieres, 
were directed along the great bend of the Meuse, to close on the 
imperilled enemy. The 7th corps of Douay made a gallant stand, 
and furious charges of the French cavalry, aware that the 
toils were already laid, shed a last ray of glory on the arms 
of France. But the assailants were in overwhelming numbers, 
the tremendous fire of the Prussian batteries, brought up in 
masses, defied resistance ; St. Menges, Fleigneux and Floing were 
seized, and the 7 th French corps was driven by degrees, con- 
fused with the beaten 5th, into the valley below. The Third 
Army and the victorious Guards ere long joined hands on the 
heights of Illy, and a far extending circle of steel and fire — 500 
guns bore on the routed enemy — was drawn round the perish- 
ing French army. A few thousand fugitives made their escape, 
hunted through the woods, by the Prussian horsemen ; but the 
mass of the French became a dissolving horde, crushed to atoms 
by the merciless German batteries. After the battle had 
become a mere massacre, Napoleon III. very properly ordered 
the white flag to be raised from the walls of Sedan. 

Sedan was a tragic close to one of the most reckless and 
desperate efforts ever made in war. Had Macmahon had a well 
organized army, and been a general of a high order, he might, 
not improbably have crossed the Meuse before his enemy had 
time to stop him, but even so, he could not have reached Metz, 
which must be taken to have been his object, giving his adversary 
credit for ordinary skill. With the bad and feeble army he led, 
the enterprise was the very extreme of rashness ; strategically 
imprudent, in any case, it was, under existing conditions, hopeless 
and fatal ; and when we recollect that it was attempted, when 
there was the alternative of a safe retreat on Paris — a move 
which, if made, would beyond question have made the issue of 
the war different — it cannot be too severely condemned. It must 
be borne in mind, too, that Macmahon had an opportunity to 
abandon this insensate project : he could have fallen back on 
Mezieres on the 28th ; and his persisting in his march when ke 
well knew that the German armies were closing around him, was 
conduct admitting of no excuse. The course he adopted can be 

Marshal Macmahon, 87 

explained only by the circumstance that the exigencies of the 
State — the supposed necessity of propping up a dynasty — were 
allowed to set aside common sense and reason ; but this does not 
justify the Marshal in the least, it only shows that an heroic 
soldier may be turned into a weak Don Quixote. The distinctive 
fault of the luckless chief was infirmity of purpose on this great 
occasion, but History has proved in many instances how a mere 
warrior may be devoid of real strength of charf.cter. Macmahon, 
too, showed indecision and want of insight in lingering at Sedan 
on the 31st of -August ; he probably could have saved a large 
part of his army had he pressed forward at once on M^zierfes, 
and his vacillation brought on it ruin. His resolve to fight 
at Sedan can be accounted for only on the assumption that, as at 
Worth, he had no idea of the overwhelming superiority in force 
of the enemy ; but he ought to have been aware of the facts, 
which had been from the first sufficiently plain. He had little 
or no share in the battle itself ; but he was quite in error, in 
hinting as he did, that the result might have been different but 
for his wound. Had he held the command-in-chief through the 
day, he would not have followed the advice of Ducrot, and tried, 
at the last moment, to escape to Mezieres ; he would have made 
an effort to force his way to Carignan, and he would in all 
probability have had the same fate as Wimpffen. He was no 
doubt right in taking upon himself the blame for those miserable 
operations, from first to last, in the Parliamentary enquiry held on 
the subject, but no one h&s questioned his candour and honour. 
As for the movements by which Moltke reached his foe, and 
lured him into a deadly trap, they rank among the greatest 
exploits of war. 

The remainder of Macmahon's life requires little notice, though 
he became head of the State in France in a troubled and almost 
revolutionary time. After recovering from his wound at Sedan, 
he joined his captive companions-in-arms in Germany ; and it 
was his good fortune to recommend Chanzy to the notice of the 
men in power at Tours, the illustrious soldier who nearly turned 
the scales of Fate in the second phase of the war. The Marshal 
was chosen by Thiers to suppress the anarchy of the Commune 
in the spring of 1871, and to regain possession of the capital in 

88 Marshal Macmahon, 

its hands ; and he performed an odious task, well suited to hh 
peculiar qualities, with characteristic daring and vigour. Though 
invited to enter the Assembly which met at Versailles, after the 
Peace of Frankfort, the Marshal declined the proffered honour, 
and retired for a time into private life, keeping studiously aloof 
from French politics. On the resignation of Thiers, in May, 
1873, Macmahon was forced to emerge from obscurity ; he was 
elected President of the second Kepublic, and his brief career as 
a statesman began. The time was ominous and perplexing ; the 
Empire had fallen amidst the ruins of Sedan ; the failure of 
Gambetta, after prodigious efforts which history will crown with 
immortal renown, to drive the invader from the soil of France, 
had thrown discredit on that great man's followers, and a mon- 
archical restoration appeared probable. Macmahon accepted 
office with an honourable resolve to govern, in a conservative 
sense, and to uphold the existing arrangements of the State ; but 
had the Comte de Ghambord been less obstinate, and less blind 
to the tendencies of the age, he might perhaps have ascended a 
throne in France, and revived the great charge of Constable in 
the Marshal's person. The new chief of the State was appointed 
for seven years, and maintained order and things as they were, 
with singleness of purpose and straightforward honesty ; but it is 
generally believed he was made an instrument, more or less decile, 
of designing men who were plotting against the still weak Re- 
public. In this position the Marshal came in conflict with Gam- 
betta, an infinitely abler man, who proved too powerful to be 
put down. At the General Election of 1877, France adopted 
the Republic with no uncertain voice ; but Macmahon, egged on 
by intriguers from behind, attempted for a short time to carry on 
a government in defiance of the national will. He was too good 
a citizen, however, to persist in this course, and he resigned his 
high office in 1879, after a tenure of power, not, indeed, glorious, 
but held with honour and not without dignity. Long before 
this event it had been his principal duty to confirm the sentence 
pronounced on Bazaine; but the judgment of the court martial 
was indisputably just, and many have thought that the remission 
of the capital penalty was too lenient. The Marshal did not 
often appear in public during the closing years of his remarkable 


Marshal Macmahon, 89 

life ; but he took much interest in the new armv which France 
was creating out of the wreck of the old, and he was an object of 
universal respect and esteem. 

Macmahon was a specimen of a class of warriors who, in every 
age, have appeared in France, and of whom the highest by far 
may perhaps be found in Vercingetorix, the opponent of Caesar^ 
The qualities these fine soldiers possessed in common, are quick 
intelligence, undaunted courage, admirable skill in handling 
troops in the field, but withal, little wisdom in the greatest 
crises, a somewhat over-strained sense of honour, and a certain 
weakness when brought to the test by ill fortune. It is the 
character of the Gaul, through all his history ; it was seen in 
Bayard, in Francis I,, even in the Grand Cond6, and very clearly 
in Ney ; and it contrasts most strikingly with the less brilliant, 
but more solid, and far more useful gifts of men like the Heroes 
of Nassau, Turenne, and Wellington, The training of the 
Marshal had a direct tendency to bring out what was most attrac- 
tive but least stable in a disposition of the kind, and to exaggerate 
not to correct its defects. He was an Algerian soldier until he 
had reached mature age; and if this school of war fell in with his 
daring nature^ made him excel in bold and daring feats of arms, and 
fashioned him to heroic exploits, it unfitted him for the duties of sup- 
reme command in the great scientific warfare of Europe, requiring 
as they do profound intelligence, comprehensiveness of judgment 
and real strength of character. Macmahon's chequered career is 
an illustration of this ; he was an ornament of the Algerian 
army of France ; his capture of the Malakoff shows energy and 
skill ; his march on Magenta, if not very brilliant, was well con- 
ceived and completely successful. But when brought to the test 
of war on a great scale, and opposed to a man of the power of 
Moltke, the Marshal proved a conspicuous failure, and his con- 
duct was a series of disastrous errors. He fought ably a gallant 
fight at Worth; but he ought not to have fought at all ; and his 
subsequent retreat shows want of insight. As to the fatal resolve 
which led to the advance to the Meuse, against his better judg- 
ment, and with full knowledge of the facts ; as to the weakness 
which caused him to continue his march when it had become 
evident that it would prove ruinous ; as to the hesitation and 

90 * The Complaynt of Scotlande.* 

negligence of the 31st of August ; and as to the recklessness of 
fighting at Sedan, we have commented on these terrible mistakes; 
enough to say, they distinctly represent all that was feeblest in 
the Marshal's nature. History must pronounce that Macmahon 
is nearly as responsible for the disasters of France as was the 
worthless Bazaine ; though she justly draws a distinction be- 
tween a noble warrior, misguided as he was, and an intriguing 
traitor. For the rest, the Marshal was the very soul of honour, 
and he died justly esteemed by his countrymen. Yet we much 
doubt if a soldier of this type ought to have been laid among 
the paladins of France, and beside the dust of Turenne and 

William O'Connor Mobbis. 



* IIT^ST of us down South are no doubt profoundly ignorant 
ItX of the state of Scotland in the sixteenth century — 1 
know I am.' This is the confession of Dr. Furnivall, a scholar 
who has devoted much special study to that obscure body of 
popular literature which depicts in vivid colours the social 
condition of the Middle Ages. The observation is a remark- 
able one, seeing that the one figure in Scottish history, sketched 
in every aspect by erudite and critical pens, is that of Mary 
Stuart. The great historians, however, follow the picturesque 
doings of kings, nobles, and prelates, forgetting that the dis- 
tinctive, human, and significant element in every great move- 
ment lies deep down in the feebly-articulate substratum of 
' puir commonis,' and that the standard of comfort and en- 
lightenment enjoyed by these is the best test of a country's 
condition. Dr. Skelton, indeed, has sketched, in his Maitland 
of Lethington, the Scotland of Mary Stuart, but his canvas is 
necessarily a large one. Much material remains, especially in 
the popular literature immediately antecedent to the advent 
of Knox and Queen Mary, well fitted to throw light on that 


' The Complaynt of Scotlande.* 91 

Presbyterian movement which has so deeply aflFected the 
spiritual, intellectual, and social life of modern times. We 
know enough of the civil dissensions that centred in the Long 
Pariiament of 1640, and of the wretched economic crisis which 
the French States-General of 1789 was expected to deal with, 
but we only faintly realise the wide-spread desolation and 
abounding social misery that brought together the Lords of 
Congregation, and induced them to recall Knox, and so render 
possible that ever memorable First General Assembly of 1560. 
Ever memorable indeed, for it marks the end of the Middle 
Ages in Scotland, and ushers in that era of Revolution which 
has made, and is making, so much modern history. Knox and 
Melville deserve the respect due to great names. We may 
admire the zeal and astuteness which the guiding of a great 
movement with poor resources demanded, but the bitter cry 
of the labouring poor and of the handful of burgesses huddled 
together in a few petty townships — the real motive power of 
the stream of change these men essayed to direct — is unheard 
amid the din of strife. Yet the Scottish Reformation was a 
social and economic much more than a religious revolution, 
akin to the Peasants' War in Germany and to the great labour 
movement known as Lollardism. It drew its chief inspiration 
by no means from the sins and shortcomings of the Old 

The imaginative literature of olden days has taken as little 
note of social development as the conventional historian. 
Humble life has only in recent times received artistic treat- 
ment. Chaucer gave us indeed the broad humour, the gaiety, 
the colour, the passions of the Middle Ages in baron, burgess, 
and boor ; but to know the churl whom want and wrong 
drove to rally round Wat Tyler, we must listen to his rudely 
articulate cry in the Vision concerning Piers Plowman. 
Spenser essayed to depict peasant life in his Shepherd's Calen- 
dar, but he was too much the Renaissance artist to make his 
rustics other than mere puppets, discussing high politics or 
pastoral stilts. This is also in a great measure true of the 
great names in old Scottish literature with the exception of 
Dunbar, by far the most human and modern of them all. To 

92 * The Complaynt of Scotlande.' 

realise the social condition of the peasant while the Reformae 
tion was in progress we must turn to such popular literatur- 
as George Bannatyne collected, Lauder's * Tracts for the 
Times,' • The Qude and Godly Ballates,' Lindsay's * Satire of 
the Three Estates,' and * The Complaynt of Scotlande.' Of 
these the last, and not the least interesting, must have been 
written, from internal evidence, about the end of 1548 or 
shortly after the beginning of 1549. Scotland had just suf- 
fered the aimless disaster of Pinkie (1547), and the author 
thinks the ' warld verray near ane ende.' Its latest editor, Dr. 
Murray, is of opinion that the original edition was printed in 
Paris about 1549. Only three copies can now be traced, two 
in the British Museum, and one in the Advocates Library. 
The name of the author cannot now be determined. The 
book is first mentioned by Dr. George Mackenzie in 1708, who 
ascribes it to a certain Schir James Inglis, one of the Pope*s 
Knights (readers of Shakespeare know that priests were of old 
called Sir), and said to have been chaplain of Cambuskenneth, 
Leyden, in his edition of 1801, argues for Sir David Lindsay 
being the author, but he could hardly have let the Romanist 
clergy oflF so easily. The same objection applies to Dr. David 
Laing's selection, Robert Wedderburn, Vicar of Dundee, a 
Lutheran, who is notable in connection with the Gttde and 
Godly Ballates, Dr. Murray's conclusions on this head are that 
the author was (1) a distinct and thorough partizan of the 
French cause, (2) a churchman still attached to the Catholic 
faith, and (3) a native of the southern, not improbably of the 
Border, counties. 

The author, whoever he was, leaves us in no doubt of his 
sentiments or his attitude towards public aflFairs. He has all the' 
faults of the preacher, — a Carlylean emphasis of statement, a 
tendency to exaggerate the evils of the situation, and an out- 
look that is Cassandra-like in its pessimism. The memory of 
Scottish independence alone sustains him. He is a Reformer^ 
but not a Lutheran, nor would he range himself on the side of 
Wishart and Knox. His work is not indeed a Reformation 
Pamphlet. He is a patriot first and a priest afterwards; a 
separatist of the most pronounced type. England he calls our 

' The Complaynt of Scotlande,^ 93 

<iuld ennemie^ and the English auld subtill doggie. His fierce 
flame of nationalism had been fed by a long course of coercion 
on the part of England, before which Mitchelstown pales into 
insignificance. Here are excerpts from the report to Henry 
Vni. of the late expedition in Scotland, the yere of our Lorde 
God^ 1544. ' The English marched towards Edinburgh (from 
Leith) ; first spoiled and then burnt the town and the Abbey 
called Holy Rodehouse, and the Palace adjoining. Meantime 
4,000 of our light horsemen did such exploits in riding and de- 
vastating the country, that within seven miles every way of 
Edinburgh they left neither peel, village, nor house, nor stacks 
of corn unbumt. In our way homewards that night they looked 
for us to have burnt the town of Dunbar, which we deferred 
till the morning, when those within it were newly gone to 
their beds ; and in their first sleeps, closed in with fire, men, 
women and children were suffocated and burnt.' He reminds 
his countrymen of the old law of the Marches, that enjoined 
an attitude of suspicious reserve towards their Border neigh- 
bours, shrewdly adding, * Ane herand (hearing) damsel and ane 
spekand castel sal nevyr end with honour,' like the Addi- 
sonian maxim, * The woman that deliberates is lost.' His atti- 
tude is to remain ' irreconcilable to our grand foe who now 
triumphs,' and rigidly to boycott the English, for had not the 
promiscuous dealing of the Border Chapmen done much to 
weaken patriotism and to encourage base perfidy? Not a 
measure is resolved on at Holyrood, but the first post from 
Berwick brings it to the English king. 

To understand this vigorous Tract for the Times, we must 
keep in view the political situation. It was written just mid- 
way in the struggle of forty years, which forms the epoch of 
the Reformation, opening as that era did with the burning of 
Patrick Hamilton and the accession of James V. (1528), and 
closing with the flight of the Queen from Langside (1568). 
The death at Flodden of the thoughtless gamester, James IV., 
the Scottish Cour-de-Lion, left the throne nominally to Queen 
Margaret and her infant son, but really to the Douglases as 
the sturdiest of the robber barons. Their intolerable yoke the 
prince threw offi when, one summer night along with his 

94 * The Complaynt of Scotlande* 

groom, Jocky Hart, he rode away secretly from Falkland to 
Stirling and declared himself, scarcely sixteen, a feudal king. 
His vigorous raid on the Border Reavers, when he * gart 
(made) the rasche bush keip the cow/ we feel to be a right 
step in spite of the pathetic ballad that tells how Johnnie 
Armstrong was unceremoniously strung upon the gallows-tree. 
But the ' King of the Commons,* or the Red Tod (fox) as he 
was familiarly called, with some good points, had little politi- 
cal sagacity. No wonder, for he was a crowned Bohemian, 
without education, and infected with those dramatic tastes 
that account for his disguises, Don Juanesque amours, and 
his train of actors, jugglers, and buffoons. Well might Lind- 
say exclaim, * Woe to the land that has owre young a king 1 ' 
The weakness of the Crown left the barons full scope for 
their herships (rsivages) without counterpoise from the side of the 
free burgesses. The entire population of Scotland in the 16th 
century did not exceed a million. Edinburgh and Perth were 
the only populous towns, and contained but a few thousands. 
Trade was in the hands of Flemish settlers in those tiny ports 
along the East Coast, where to this day their quaint red-tiled 
houses, set with their gable ends to the shore, give a glow of 
Continental colour to the dull line of cold grey cliffs. The ex- 
ports were mainly wool, fish, and hides, while the imports were 
articles of luxury, almost entirely to the order of the clergy, 
who held the great bulk of the wealth of the country. It 
comes as a strange surprise to find Dunbar mentioning such a 
luxury asjleis of Spain for blisters. On the English and High- 
laud Borders the peasant, a feudal serf, was harassed beyond 
measure. Fife and the Lothians were the only districts pros- 
perous for the time. Over a petty but proud state like this, a 
boy- king, passionate and revengeful, was called to reign, 
while the storms that wrecked the great institutions of the 
Middle Ages were raging around. He was in the position of 
the Irish Nationalists of to-day, for Scotland had her Home Rule 
question in the seventeenth century. England had achieved 
* a union of hearts* in that marriage of Thistle and Rose, which 
ultimately united the crowns; but France, playing the part of 
America in the Irish question, was at hand to throw her men and 

* The Complaynt of ScotlandeJ 9& 

money into the opposite scale. James V. was exposed to these 
two external influences. On the one hand was his uncle, Henry 
VIIL, acting on him through Wolsey and the Queen-mother ; 
on the other the French King, represented by Beaton and the 
Queen, Mary of Guise. Should he elect for union with Eng- 
land and a Keformed Church, or stand by the Komish priest- 
hood, backed by France? The point was settled when he 
failed to keep tryst at York with his uncle, and when at the 
head of a gay calvalcade he rode out from the Abbey Port of 
St. Andrews in 1538 to meet his French bride. In the little 
cove of golden sand beside the East Neuk of Fife, clear of the 
jagged reefs that guard the headland, and in front of the cave 
where the Pictish king, Coustantine, was slain by the Danes, 
the ship that bore her from France cast anchor. The princess 
landed where now the life-boat is launched through foam and 
breaker, and not far from where the old castle of Balcomie, 
whither she was at once conveyed, still braves the East winds. 
St. Andrews, Guise, Beaton, — ominous figures on that stream 
of destiny that was to carry the reactionary king to an early 
grave. There were two factions in power after the king died 
in Falkland Palace (1542) — the Douglases, favouring England 
and the reforming party, and the Hamiltons, pledged to France 
and the reactionary clerics, who were tied to their wealth and 
their time-honoured creed. 

We are of course in a better position than the anonymous 
author of the ' Complaynt of Sc.otlande ' to see the drift of those 
calamities which he deplores. He looks for better days, cer- 
tainly not in the Lutheran, and still less in the Knoxian direc- 
tion, but in a re-awakened patriotism, and the old-fashioned 
virtues of unity and honest attention to duty. If Protector 
Somerset had had a grain of commonsense, and Henry VIII. 
a better conception of tolerant charity, there might have been 
less divergence than now exists between Prelacy and Presby- 
tery. The First Book of Discipline, our ecclesiastical Declara- 
tion of Independence, though it established the equality of the 
clergy, proceeded on lines not at all unfavourable to the con- 
servation of all that was best in the Old Church ; but Knox 
was driven by the Queen, the barons, and the priesthood inta 

^96 * The Complaynt of Scotlande.' 

the arms of greedy nobles and impoverished commons, and to 
the creation of a democratic institution. But this was the 
work of that second stage of the struggle which began with 
the death of the Cardinal and ended with the flight from 

In the wake of the invasion that formed the rough English 
wooing of the Princess Mary there followed wide-spread pes- 
tilence and a grievous mortality, accompanied by plottings and 
contentions among the three estates of the realm. These con- 
ditions constitute the grounds of the author's complaint, the first 
part of which is so intensely patriotic and separatist. Our 
interest here is fairly crushed under the load of exempils from 
authorities sacred and profane. He begs his readers to excuse 
his * barbar agrest (rustic) terms/ adding, * I thocht it nocht 
necessair til hef fardit (stuffed) and lardit this tracteit with ex- 
quisite (select) termis whilkis ar nocht daly usit, bot rather 1 hef 
usit domestic Scottis language, maist intelligibil for the vulgar 
people.' The deed did not follow the wish. His style is ornate 
but clear and vigorous in spite of such Renaissance coinages 
as propugnatours, temerare, turkes (pincers, L. torqueo), sup- 
pedit, suspiring, plag (a blow), sopit (L. sopitus). There is 
no doubt, however, about his * domestic Scottis' when we find 
such homely words and idioms as athort (across), gyrse (grass), 
oncouth, reyme (cream), neukyt (cornered) moon, selcht (a 
seal), partan (crab), mair nor thole (endure), birdis hes thair 
nestis and tods (foxes) hes thair den.' The tractate, indeed, 
one of the very few examples of a work in Scottish prose, com- 
pares favourably with contemporary English prose, which 
may scarcely be said to exist before the days of Bacon, Jeremy 
Taylor, and the Authorised Version. 

The second part of the ' Complaynt ' — the Monolog of the 
Actor (author) — is of extreme interest from a literary point of 
view. Even the author himself had been fatigued by the first 
part of his treatise, and, to escape the * caterris (catarrhs), heid 
werkis, ande indigestioune that succedis the onnatural dais 
sleip,' walked out across the grass fields alongside a stream 
that flowed by the foot of a hill. Beyond the stream, in which 
the pretty fishes are stertland with vermeil fins and silvery 

* The Complaynt of Scotlande,' 97 

scales, there rose a green wooded bank whence issued melo- 
dious music of birds. It was the 6th of June, O.S., or the 
15th N.S. Prolonging his walk far into the night he watched 
the stars pale befoi:e the dawn and heard the cries of awaken- 
ing beast and bird, all which are differentiated in an ornate 
passage of alliterative prose-poetry. Into the fields the shep- 
herds have brought out their flocks, suggesting to the observ- 
ing author a picture of herd life in the olden time worthy of 
being quoted. He is a primitive artist and fills his canvas 
with every colour on his palette, but all the same, his is a won- 
derfully realistic sketch. * I beheld mony hoodit hirdis blaw- 
and ther buc hornis and ther corn-pipes, calland and convoy- 
and mony fat floe to be fed on the feildis : than they pat there 
scheip on bankis (green strips left between the corn-riggs) and 
brais, and on dry hillis, to get ther pastour, than i beheld the 
scheip hirdis wives and ther childir that brocht there morning 
bracfast, than the wivis cuttit raschis and seggis (sedges), and 
gadrit mony.' Thereon they lay out a repast of rye- 
cakes and scones with kye and ewe milk, curds and whey, 
clotted cream, butter, and green cheese. Every man has his 
horn spoon in the lug of his bonnet, a custom not altogether 
unknown, Leyden says, even in his day. 

In his Monolog the author puts matter enough for several 
days into his 'plesand nychtis' recreation, his object being to 
describe the circumstances that interrupted the first part of 
his discourse and led to the main part of the subject, the vision 
of ' Dame Scotia.' Apparently, on revising the work, he has 
taken the opportunity of putting into the mouth of the chief 
pastor a long oration on the antiquity and dignity of the shep- 
herd life, adding to this all the scientific lore at his command, 
— Cosmogony, Botany, and Naval Architecture, this last 
apropos of a sea-fight of which he is conveniently a spectator. 
The shepherd's wife very naturally tires of his prosing, and 
telling him that he is getting out of his depth, suggests some- 
thing more appropriate to the occasion. Then follows a vidimus 
of popular tales, songs, dances, and musical instruments posi- 
tively unique, and presenting a vivid picture of popular reading 
and amusement, highly significant of the culture of the age. The 


98 * The Complaynt of Scotlande,* 

joyous life upon which it but slightly lifts the curtain is more 
like that of the England of Chaucer, Spenser, and Shakespeare 
than of the doiice Scotland of John Knox. The tales embrace 
not only chivalrous romances such as Lancelot de LaCy and 
Robene Hude^ and Thom y lyn^ but the specially patriotic 
ballads of Wallace and Bruce, the Battle of the HayrlaWy the 
hunttia of Cheuet, the humourous interlude of Rauf Colly ear y 
and the quaint fairy tales of The volf of the varldis ende^ The 
reyde ettin ( Jotun, a giant) with the three heydis, The three futtit 
dog of Norrovay, Of the songs we get, most provokingly, only 
the titles : — * Pastance with guid companye,* ' Allone I veip in 
' grit distres/ * The frog cam to the myl dur,' and ' myne hart, 
hay, this is my song.' The list derives an additional interest 
from the fact that most of the songs were godlifed in the Gude 
and Godly Ballates. This rare collection, edited by that good 
friend of Scottish literature, David Laing, was printed in Edin- 
burgh, 1578, but is referred to in James Melville's Diary as 
early as 1570. Under the influence of Luther's Gesangbuch, it 
essayed to take the devil's naughty songs and suit them to 
the lips of the 7inco guid. Thus it gives us a shock to think 
of our reforming ancestors striking up, — 

' Johne, cum kiss me now, 
Johne, cum kiss me now, 
The Lord thy God I am 
That Johne (man) dois the call.' 

Or again, — 

* For our Gudeman in heuin dois ring 
In gloir and bliss without ending.' 

to the tune of, — 

' Till our Gudeman, till our Gudeman, 
Keip faith and lufe till our Gudeman.' 


' Quho is at my window, quho, quho ? ' 

The licence of Burns seems after this quite national, and to 
the manner born. Several of the songs thus treated are men 
tioned in the Complaynt in their secular guise, as, — 

' The Complaynt of Scotlande.^ 99 

' Hay trix, tryme go trix, 
Under the grene wod-tre.' 

In its spiritual form it begins, — 

* The Paip, that Pagane full of pryde.* 

It commemorates the success of the Lords of the Congregation 
in 1559, and in it occur the pithy lines : — 

* Of Scotland Well, the Freiris of Faill (in Kyle) 
The lymmerie lang hes lestit, 
The monkis of Melros maid gude kaill 
On Frydayis quhen thay f astit. ' 

To the tune of another, With huntis up^ a stirring anti-Papal 
battle hymn is made. It appears in the Complaynt as a dance 
tune along with the Pavan, a solemn majestic Spanish dance, 
and its companion, with the Galliard, in quick time, and with 
Brauls and Branglis, a Corauto or galop. Another is a country 
dance, the Ring Dance : — 

' Come, knit hands and beat the ground 
In a light fantastic round. ' — Comus, 

Ley den says of this, * Every shepherd leads his wife by the 
hand and every young man has his maid. In the south of 
Scotland it was danced at the Kirn (Ger. kirmesse) or feast of 
cutting down the corn.' It is the Merry-ma-tanzie of the 
Scotch girls on the village green. 

The musical instruments enumerated can only be named 
here, — the drone bagpipe, pipe made of ane bleddir and of ane 
reid, the trump and the corne pipe (Vergil's tenuis avena)^ pipe 
maid of ane gait home (the stock and horn of Allan Ramsay 
and Burns), the recordar (a flageolet for shepherds), the fiddill, 
and the quhissil (a pipe of borit bourtree or elder-wood) for 
neatherds and swineherds. In the second part of his work the 
author has been tempted to stray from his main subject to 
revel in his new found art. The vision of Dame Scotia, con- 
stituting the third part, recalls him to his purpose. The one 
literary form for a work of imagination known to the Middle 
Ages, was the Allegory, and of all its tricks none was so 
catching as that of a Dream Vision. From Dante down to 
Burns we find it in vogue. We smile at an art so guileless 

100 ' The Complaynt of Scotlande.* 

and unsophisticated, reared as we have been on strong drama, 
realistic fiction, and equally realistic biography. Our author 
so warms to his subject as at times to forget his allegorical 
machinery and become direct, natural, and vigorous. The lady 
of his vision he portrays in appropriate allegorical attire. On 
her mantle are depicted the three estates of her ancient feudal 
realm — the baronage, the spirituality, the commons — but all in 
a fashion so discoloured, riven and ragged, that its first makers 
would have * clair miskend it/ To her enter her three sons, 
the eldest ' in harness, trailing ane halbert, beand all afirayit 
for dreddour of his life ; ' the second * sittand in ane chair, ane 
beuk in his hand, the claspis fast lokkit with rust ; * the 
youngest lying flat on his side on the cold earth, all his clothes 
riven and ragg^ed. ' He tuke grite pane to rise up on his feit, 
but he was sa grevouslye ower set be violens, that it was 
nocht possible til hym to stand rycht up.' The lady, indignant 
at this spectacle of cowardice, slothful ignorance, and wretched 
helplessness on the part of her three sons — baron, priest, and 
peasant — lectures them vigorously on their neglect of the 
natural virtue of self-defence, on their mutual distrust (' every 
ane of you seeks his particular relief,*) and on the folly of trust- 
ing to England, who will only call them 'renegat Scottis,' and 
finally enslave them. Here again the allegorist waxes tediously 
historical with his ancient examples. One quite recent he de- 
tails with satisfaction, how Somerset sent the Warden of the 
Marches into Galloway, March 1547, to hold a court when the 
English were repulsed by the Master of Maxwell and the Laird 
of Drumlanrig. He is passionately separatist, holding it im- 
possible for English and Scotch to live under one sovereign. 
The English King may patronise the renegades, but with 
Augustus he would say, * I love bot the treasin that cumis to 
my effect (profit), and louis (praise, approves) nocht the 
tratours that committis the trason.' He would prefer that every 
Scot, slain in battle, had another in his stomach, presumably on 
the economic principle of choking two dogs with one bone. 

While Dame Scotia lectures her sons both together and in- 
dividually, only one, the down-trodden peasant, lifts his voice 
in his own defence. His is an appeal ad misericordiam that re- 

* The Complaynt of ScotlandeJ' 101 

minds us of those artlessly eloquent reports (cahiers) that were 
poured in on the ministry from every parish of rural France on 
the eve of the Revolution. The recital makes the blood tingle. 
The bitter cry brings with it the sad reflection that, even yet, 
the march of social misery and oppression still rolls on over an 
ever-new batch of victims. Our ears are more open to the cry 
than were those of Dame Scotia and the proud cruel brothers, 
witness our Factory Laws, Sweating, Crofter, and Labour 
Commissions, Light Railways, Labour Colonies, Eight-Hours 
Bill, and so on ; but the fire of revolutionary discontent 
smoulders on, ever fed by short-sighted blundering, idleness, 
and vice. 

* I may be comparit,' says the third son. Labour, * to the dull 
ass compellit to bayr ane importabil burden, for I am dung 
(kicked) and proddit (goaded) to gar me do and thole the thing 
that is above my pouer. I am the mark of the butt, contrar the 
whilk every man shoots arrows of tribulation. I labour night 
and day to nourish lazy, idle, useless men, and my reward is 
hunger and the sword. How can I tak paciens, considerand 
that ther can na thing be eikkyt (added) to my parsecutione 
but cruel dede (death) ? My corn and my cattle are reft from 
me, I am exilit fra my takkis (tacks) and my steddyng (that is, 
turned out of my holdings), the malis and fermes (feudal dues) 
of the grond that I laubyr is hychtit to sic ane price that is 
fors (necessary) to me and wife and bairns to drink wattir. 
The teinds of my corn are not only raised above the fertility 
of the soil, but taken out of my hands by my tyrant brethir. 
If 1 gain money by trade or mechanic craft 1 am compelled to 
lend it to them, and when I crave my dettis I am cuflFed and 
maltreated. I am made ane slave of my body to reign and rashe 
in arage and carraige. Ther for I am constrenet to cry on God 
for vengeance on al violent usurpators, whilkis parpetratis sic 
cruel iniquities on the desolat pure pepil.' 

This plea, condensed and modernised, but with everything 
characteristic left intact, is a curious comment on the good old 
feudal times over which an artistic and constitutional Torv like 
Scott has thrown the glamour of romance. There was then 
no security of tenure ; the peasant farmer was a mere tenant 

102 ' The Complaynt of Scotlande.^ 

at will. After he had improved his holding, the laird's men 
would come in hundreds and turn him out to make room for 
a brother or a dependant. Of the feudal dues, the irritating 
kain or rent paid in kind, as fowls, a sheaf of com, etc., is pro- 
minent It is the cens of the Ancient Regime in France, and 
in the shape of the * reek hens * survived in Scotland almost to 
our own day. 

* Our Laird gets in hU racket rents. 
His coals, his kain, and a' his stents/ — Bums' s Twa Dogs, 

The arage and carraige refer to the crofter's obligation to 
supply carts and horses to plough the laird's land, fetch fuel, 
and carry in the harvest. Arage is the modern average (Low. 
Lat., averagium, from habere to have), and primarily meant 
property in general (cp. cattle, chattel, capital), especially such 
a beast of burden as the horse, which was often called an aiver^ 
as in the well-known lines of Burns : — 

' Yet aft a ragged colt's been known 

To mak a noble aiver.* — Bums' s Dream, 

The worst sins of a government are those of omission, rather 
than of commission. The most popular of the English kings 
were the men of strong will and iron hand. The mice, in a 
favourite old English fable, did not grudge the cat a reason- 
able number of victims from their ranks so long as he kept 
down their worst enemies the rats. Even so the puir comonis 
did not heed the exactions of the King provided he was strong 
enough to deal out even-handed justice between them and 
those rats of oppressors, the barons. It is when justice is an 
indeterminate quantity that revolutionary unrest begins. A 
great step was taken in Scotland when the Court of Session 
was instituted in 1532, with at first but eight advocates. The 
state of matters before this time may be inferred from the 
satires of Dunbar and Henryson. The former, in his Discretioun 
in Taking, illustrates the evictions in defiance of tenant-right 
lamented in the Complaynt. The barons make the poor tenant 
beg from door to door by taking from him all fruit that grows 
on the furrow in the form of dues and grassum^ originally 
carrying with it the right of common grazing, but subse- 

* The Complaynt of Scotlande.' 103 

quently turned into a charge on renewing the lease. Some 
take other men's tacks (land-grabbing) and oppress the poor. 
Great men for their oppression are 'set full famous at the 
session, and pure takaries are hangit hie.' Henryson is more 
outspoken. ' The worst wolves are lords that have lands as a 
loan &om God (a beautiful phrase) and set them to maillaris 
or rentallers. Then they vex the tenant ere half the term be 
gone * with pykit querells for to make him flit (remove) or pay 
the gersum (grassum^ new agane.' 

' His hors, his meir he mon lene (lend) to the laird, 
To dring and draw in court and carage. 
His servand or himself may nocht be spared 
To swynk (toil) or sweit, withouten meat or wage. 
Lo as he stands in labour and bondage, 
That scantly may he purches (earn) by his maill (lease) 
To leif (live) upone dry breid and wattir kaill/ 

• • • • • • • 

' The pure husband has nocht 
Bot cot and cruive (hut, sty) upon a clout (patch) of land, 
For Goddis aw (fear), how dar thou tak on hand, 
And thou in bame and byre so bene (Fr. bien) and big 
To put him fra his tak, and gar him thig (beg). ' 

These agrarian abuses seemed to have iucreased, so that by 
the middle of the century the author of the Complaynt says, 

* As to juggis justice that rengis (reigns) presently in our 
country, God may send a better when he pleases.' 

As in the speculation that preceded the French Revolution 
we find eager inquiries into the foundations of human society 
— the Social Contract and Return to Nature of Helvetius, 
Diderot, and Rousseau — so in our sixteenth century of civil 
discontent we see these old elements of Socialism in ferment. 

* Labour ' goes on to argue that the working class is the most 
important, because the directly productive, part of the body- 
politic, witness the concession of popular tribunes to the 
Roman plebs. Nay, he is in fact the eldest son, for is not 
farming the oldest industry and root-source of all nobility ? 

* When Adam delved and Eve span. 
Who was then the gentleman 1 ' 

104 * The Complaynt of Scotlande.' 

The nobility and clergy boast of their origin. * There vane 
ignorant consaitis gars them ymagyn and beleif that there 
predecessouris and al there nobillite and digniteis has descendit 
fra the angellis and archangellis and nocht fra oner for father 
Adam/ How many illustrious men have been of lowly origin ? 

* Therfor it is great abusioun (self-deception) to them to gloir 
in the nobil blude; for I trow that gif ane cirurgyen (chirur- 
geon) wald draw part of there blude in ane bassyn, it wald 
haf na bettir cullour nor the blude of ane plebien or of ane 
mekanik craftis man.' Even so did the eloquent Barnave? 
when the first aristocrat victims of the Revolution stained the 
guillotine, exclaim, * Is the blood then so pure ? * 

The author, coming to the political situation in Scotland, 
shows that the commons are the true conservatives, having 
every reason to be on the side of good order. They have no 
power or opportunity to be treasonable or revolutionary, be- 
cause of ' sa mony difficil impedimentis that may impesche 
(hinder) him, as poverte, dreddour, ignorance, and nocht 
hefand familiarite with ane prince ; and the perils, that may 
succeed fra conspiracies, are wondir grit. Al conjurations has 
been exsecut be grit personagis of ane realme, or ellis be the 
famiUaris seruandis of ane prince. The maist cruel vengeance 
we can exsecut contrar ane evil prince is to gar our wifis and 
baimis pray nicht and day to send ane mischief on him,' to 
shorten bis days and send a better in his place. But in strange 
company there must be nothing but * God save his grace ! ' 
Dionysius, the tyrant, hearing of an old woman that prayed 
for him, asked her to what he owed this favour. In her youth, 
she told him, she prayed that the king, his tyrant grandfather,, 
might speedily perish, and soon after he was slain. His son, a 
worse tyrant, succeeded; the same prayer went up to the gods. 

* Sime therafter he was stikkit in his secret chalmyr, and now 
ye succeed to your fatheris heritage and vices, wherfor I pray 
dayly to the goddis to send you lang lyif dais : for I wait 
(know) weil, sen that iniquiteis succedis fra princis with aug- 
mentation of the samyn, doutles I suspect that your successor 
sal be the master devyl.* 

Dame Scotia's answer to tJiis modest Socialism is curious. 

* The ComplayM of Scotlande,* 105 

Our author is the willing advocate of the labouring poor, but 
by no means their apologist He had not attained to our 
familiarity with sentimental legislation, nor could he anticipate 
the modem devices by which privilege reconciles itself to re- 
form. His arguments are all very prudent and very sensible, 
but, when it comes to ' Shooting Niagara,' very inefFectual. 
In brief abstract they are as follows. According to Cicero, 
*na man suld be admittit to be witnes in his auen cause. Ane 
gilty man suld accuse no man of crime.* ' Labour ' blaming 
his brothers, is the pot mis-calling the kettle. * Gyf thou and 
thy sect hed as grit liberte as lies thy tua brethir, doutles yo 
wald be mair cruel nor the wild beystis of the desertis of 
Arabie.' They are not fit for liberty. Then follows a forecast 
of labour meetings and the deliberations of Home Rule 
patriots. *Convenit to gydthir for the avansing of ane gude 
purpose, ye cry and berkis (bark) ilk ane contrar ithere, that 
nocht ane of you knauis what ane ither says, and when ye have 
flyttyn and berkit but (without) ryme or rason al the lang daye, 
ye accord nocht nor prudently on ane substantial constant pur- 
pose. He that is the maist cummersum cryar, maist obstinat 
contrar rason, ye reput him for the maist prudent man of the 
realm. When he gois, al folio wis him, like the brutal flch(;ip 
that wil nocht pas through the slap (gap) of ane dyik for the 
herd, till ane of the worst of the flok mak forgait, than al tho 
leaue (rest) foUowis.' Better is the counsel of ten wise men 
than all the wisdom of the masses — a truly wise Carlylean 
sentiment. *For,' he continues, 'there deliberations procedis 
of there first apprehensions.' Success is due to fortune, like a 
blind man steering his way through a mirk (dark) pla ce. ' Hence 
the civil law forbiddis conventions of the comont pepil, be- 
cause the maist part of them are ill-conditioned and obedient 
to there apetitis and glaykyt (mad) aff'ections,' in which they are 
more unbridled than the beasts. Howbeit some are virtuous 
when held in subjection and labour industriously. But pros- 
perity is apt to make them more ambitious and arrogant than 
any gentil man, spiritual or temporal, of most noble blood. 
Their children, too, through want of education, become vain 
prodigal Philistines. Succeeding so easily to their riches they 

106 ' The Complaynt of ScotlandeJ 

forget the cold, hunger, and poverty their fathers and mothers 
endured in acquiring these riches. Elevated to positions of 
power, their arrogance proves the adage, * The stone tests the 
gold, the gold the man/ * Ther is nocht ane mair odious 
thyng in this warld, as when the successour of ane indigent 
ignorant mechanyk lauberar ascendis til ony dignite abufe his 
qualite, for incontinent he myskennis God and man.' Some 
of them are ashamed of their genealogy and ' refusis ther sur- 
name' (figuring as Browne- Smiths, and Robinson- Wrights.) 
Such Jacks-in-office are worse tyrants than any that are 
descended of the greatest nobility of the country. He quotes 
the *Tale of the Three Priests of Peebles,' one of whom 
answers the query, ' Why burgesses' heirs thrive not to the 
third generation ? ' in this fashion : * Ane person that had 
never adversitie and hes welth that procedit never of his ain 
Industrie, and syne hes Uberte and hes neuir knauen educa- 
tion, erudition, nor civilite, it is impossibil that he can be ver- 
tuous, and he that heytis vertu sal never thryve.* 

The appeal to the nobles rises to the height of a lofty elo- 
quence that is a foretaste of Tennyson'f 

*■ Kind hearts are more than coronets, 
And simple faith than Norman blood ; ' 

or of the pithier sentiments of Burns- 

' The rank is but the guinea's stamp, 
The man's a man for a' that.' 

It begins with a Kousseau-like picture of primitive manners. 

*At that time pepil war as reddy to drink wattir in ther 
bonet, or in the palmis of their handis, as in ane glas, or in ane 
tasse (cup) of silver. Thai lay tigydthir in ane caverne, as dois 
presently the sophistic Egyptiens (gipsies).' Then discoursing 
beautifully on the orign of nobility and the true meaning of 
heraldic devices, he draws this appalling picture of the degra- 
dation of the nobles. ' The nychtis are ower short to gentil 
men for lust, the days to commit extorsions on the pure pepil ; 
ther blasphemation of the name of God corrupts the air. Ther 
prodig pride in costly clothing abufe thet stait, expenses on 
horse and doggis abufe ther rent,' excite his indignation. Dio- 

' The Complaynt of Scotlande' 107 

mede's horses ate men, and Actaeon was devoured by his dogs. 
There are many horses and dogs in Scotland that eat men, for 
hunting wastes substance, and horses ' eit the come that wald 
have savit the lyuis of the pure pepil fra hunger.' 

The address to the clergy shows the author to be an en- 
lightened churchman, with a truly noble conception of the 
sacred office, worthy to rank with Chaucer's sketch of the poor 
parson. The clergy are doubly guilty, being without the ex- 
cuse of ignorance. The disciple follows the conversation (con- 
duct) of his teacher rather than his doctrine. The partan 
(crab) in Plutarch rebuked her daughter for walking crookedly. 
She replied that of her own nature she could not go as she 
was bid, but if her mother went before she would try to follow 
in her footsteps. Schism is rooted in Germany, Denmark, 
England, but its branches are everywhere. Persecution is 
only pouring oil on a fire. To stamp it out by a universal 
massacre is impossible, but a self-reform of the clergy will be 
eflFectual. Finally, after reminding them that they have most 
reason to fear the English, judging by Henry VIII.'s treatment 
of the Old Church, he urges them to exchange cowls and 
gowns for steel-jacks and coats-of-mail, and take part in the 
defence of their country. 

History has as little to say of the efiect of this remarkable 
pamphlet as of its author's identity. It is ever the lot of the 
merely academic apostle that his wise preaching is unheard in 
stirring times, when history is a-making. Lacking the temper 
to test the courage of his opinions in action, he but mutely 
appeals to pre-occupied and prejudiced minds. But the 
Complaynt of Scotlande is none the less notable for political 
sagacity and kindly human sympathy far in advance of the 
age and worthy of the author of Utopia himself, while it is 
deeply significant to the student, not alone of the Scottish 
Reformation, but of present-day social problems. 

James Colville. 





The History and Poetry of the Scottish Border : Their Main 
Features and Relations. By JoHN Veitch, LL.D., Pro- 
fessor of Logic and Rhetoric in the University of Glas- 
gow. New Edition. 2 vols. Edinburgh and London. 

TWO factors are more and more recognised in the interpre- 
tation of ancient life and literature. The first is race, the 
second is environment, or the determining conditions. Under 
the progress of modern science as seen in such works as The 
Origin of the Aryan Nations^ by Canon Isaac Taylor, we find 
that race comes foremost, and that the first pressure of enquiry 
is removed even from printed documents and language, strictly, 
to stone memorials and to the evidence which is found in the 
remains of dwellings and forts, in the barrows, refuse heaps, 
the bones and skulls of the ancient peoples who once lived 
there, and the tools and implements with which they worked. 
Whenever we pass beyond a certain date and try ta get at the 
origins, we are at once launched on the question of races — on 
enquiries about long-headed and broad-headed peoples, and 
possible results of the union of the two. Professor Veitch, in 
his most persevering and long-sustained investigations of Bor- 
der story and Border lore (which have been issued in a new and 
revised edition of his book, now almost indeed a new work), 
finds himself involved in this kind of ethnological research 
and argument. In this way. The whole region of Strathclyde, 
and the Southern Lowlands of Scotland, was, in the earliest 
times, of which we find undoubted traces, peopled, as the bulk 
of Britain was, by the race known as Basque or Iberian. This 
race was driven into remote corners and fastnesses by an in- 
vading wave of Cymri, which settled there and held its own 
through centuries, alike against Roman, Pict, Anglo-Frisian, 
Dane and Saxon. There are whole lines of ring forts running 
along the slopes of hills. They are, he says, mostly to be 
found in the lower hills of the district, and on the knowes pro- 

The Scottish Border. 109 

jecting firom the slopes of the higher hills as they fall down- 
wards to the valley of a bum or water. They have been con- 
fused with Roman remains, but they are not Roman structures; 
they differ from them in striking and characteristic ways. 
The form is almost universally circular or oval. These hill 
forts are the oldest remaining human habitations in the Low- 
lands of Scotland. The entrance, too, is almost universally on 
the south-east side, so that, as was desired by Greek and 
Oriental, the first rays of the morning sun should find their 
way into the temple. Barrows or tumuli are not so common 
as the cairn, or heap of stones unmixed with earth. Cairn is 
pure Cymric, cam, or came, or camedd. But of ban-ows found 
in Lowland Scotland there are two kinds as elsewhere — the 
long-shaped barrows, which contain no bronze implements, and 
reveal long-shaped skulls : and the round barrows, in which 
the skulls are broad shaped or oval, and in which bronze im- 
plements are found. The first are Iberian and the other Celtic, 
the former being still in the stone age, and the latter having 
emerged from it. 

The argument from these sources is supplemented and con- 
firmed by the existence of many place-names. The names of 
streams and hills are especially Cymric. The Tweed itself is 
Cymric Tywi^ from the root twy^ meaning what bounds or hems 
in. Twyad in Welsh is a hemming in. Bede writes Tuid. In 
1185 it is written Tuede. Teviot is from teiji, from the root 
Tyw, spreading round. Quair, originally qaird or quer, 
(with its Cornish equivalent guirt), later form, gwer, Welsh, 
gwyrdh, green. The epithet, says Professor Veitch, is singularly 
appropriate, and to him Traquair is simply the dwelling in the 
green valley of the water. Gala is from gal, what is spread 
out, a full stream. Yarrow is from garWy a rough rugged 
torrent. The Rule water recalls the Cymric r/m, a roar. The 
Tarth water is probably from the equivalent to tarth (Cornish), 
a breaking out. The root tarn, spreading, quiet, still, is found 
in Thames as well as in Tima, and Timeye, which joins the 
Ettrick below Ettrick Kirk. Allan or Ala, both in Roxburgh 
and Berwick, is given as from the Gaelic all\ hence aUian^ 
white avon or white stream, or it may come from the Welsh 

110 The Scottish Border. 

al-wen, very white or bright Clyde, Allan, Esk, Eden, Tyne, 
Avon or Evan, and Calder all own a Cymric original. Ben or 
Pen in the names of mountains attests the same element. 

At length, after a very bold and long maintained resistance, 
what remained of the Cymric people after the migration of 
many into Wales, was in the twelfth century merged in the 
immigrant Angle and Anglo-Norman ; but their record did not 
then close. They have left witness of themselves in many 
ways — ^in language, but no less in song and story : in an ever 
recurrent fineness of fancy, a poetic grace, and a brooding 
melancholy and love of nature : a charm, a gentle and 
sensitive appreciation of beauty, and now and then a wild 
outleaping grandeur of conception. ' They went forth to 
battle, but they always fell/ Yet did they not altogether 
fail. They communicated to Border love and story, its 
phantasy, its mixture of weird terror and gentle passion : its 
regret, its boundless hope and faith, and its quaint superstitions 
and beliefs in elves and fairies and witches, presences that 
make nature at once fair and awful, attractive and forbidding, 
endowed with no end of powers and possibilities over the 
destiny of man. 

On this point. Professor Veitch writes : — 

* The Cymri, who were in the district before the Teutons, must have 
had a singularly fine musical sense ; although we are not able always to 
trace the inner significance of their names of hill and stream and glen. 
They appear to have had a purer, deeper feeling for the nature around 
them, more communion with it, more sympathy with it, alike in its softer 
and in its sterner aspects, than their successors had, or than had for long 
appeared in Saxon or English literature. Perhaps they were, as has been 
supposed from the evidence of the fragments of poetry which have come 
down to us, more sensitive, emotional, and quick in perception than the 
somewhat slow and patient waiter on fact, the Anglo-Saxon. Possibly 
also, as I venture to suggest, their dwellings, perched on the tops of the 
hills, away from the wooded and marshy low grounds, made them familiar 
with wide prospects and the ever-moving aspects of earth and sky, in storm 
and in sunshine. There are traces of this feeling in the Ossianic poems. 
Selma and Selama are said to mean a place with a pleasant or wide 
prospect. * * Darthula beheld thee from the top of her mossy tower ; 
from the tower of Selama, where her fathers dwelt." Gael and Cymri 
thus came to love the great bills which to them were a dwelling, a 
refuge, and a defence. Stem nature was their daily companion and 

The Scottuh Border. Ill 

friend, might and mass of mountain their natural protector. Storm and 
mist oame between them and Roman or Saxon foe. ... In death they 
wished to be laid where the spirit, as in life, would be gratified by the wide 
expanse of plain and hill, where it had felt the fullest consciousness of 
natural life^ the perfect sense of what had been strongest in defence and 
grandest in the world around it.' 

Professor Veitch's researches lead him to the conclusion that 
King Arthur was really the British Guledig,* that by his deeds 
of prowess were the many enemies of the Cymri beaten off, 
and the detached and broken sections formed into one great 
confederacy or kingdom. Confirmation of this is found in 
many parts of the Four Ancient Books of Wales, but more 
direct evidence still is furnished in the Historia and Epistola of 
Gildas, and in the Historla Britonum of Nennius. Notices of 
Arthur in those works point to him as living in the first half of 
the sixth century. 

Professor J. Rhys, however, has devoted much attention to 
this point, and would not go with Professor Veitch. He holds 
that the historical Arthur was a mere Comes Britannice^ and 
from the likeness of his name to that of an early god ; he was 
raised into a kind of culture-hero. According to Professor 
Rhys, the very idea of the reappearance of Arthur and return 
from Avillon is itself the relic of a sun-myth. He has to meet 
the facts that certain striking elements of Arthurian legend are 
found surviving even in non-Brythonic and non-Gaelic parts 
of Perthshire and Forfarshire, with many place-names of un- 
mistakeable type; but he accounts for these by the supposition 
that stories about a yet earlier culture-hero had been trans- 
mitted to these parts from Ireland, and that with change of 
names they were transferred to Arthur and Mordred and 
Guinevere, who before had been oddly enough known as 
Queen Wander. 

* Guledig is the equivalent of Aurelianus, and is from gulady country. 
. * Ambrosius Aurelianus,' says Professor Veitch, *a man of Roman descent, 
had been their common leader, their Guledig or pendragon. Now this char- 
acter of Guledig is exactly that under which the British chief Arthur is de- 
scribed in the earliest existing documents regarding him. Nennius calls 
him Dux Bellorum. 

112 The Scottish Border, 

If Profeseor Rhys needs to speculate, Professor Veitch makes 
many of his facts fit in well with his theory here. The course 
of Arthur's progress in fighting his twelve great battles is fol- 
lowed with what seems surprising accuracy, distances named, 
and minor details of the record falling in wonderfully well 
with the places as described by Professor Veitch. 

' It seems clear, that besides contending with Cerdic and the Saxons of 
Wessex, he fought on the plains of what are now called the Lowlands of 
Scotland, leaving various unmistakable memorials of his actions, work and 
life. As a general confirmation of this, it may be added that there is no 
portion of Great Britain so full, in the same space, of Arthurian names, 
as that part of Scotland which stretches from the brown slopes of the 
Grampians to the blue line of the Cheviots. Mr. Stuart Glennie has 
noted in it 139 places named from Arthur or his associates, or connected 
with his story by tradition and legend.* And there are several more to be 
added to Mr. Glennie*s list. But the strength of the argument, from the 
existence of these names, does not, as appears to me, rest wholly on their 
number ; it rests chieliy on the fact that all other memory of Arthur and 
his associates, except what lies in these names and traditions, has died 
out of the Lowlands of Scotland ages ago. . . . We are thus led to the 
conclusion that these designations have come down to us from a time and 
people that are almost pre-historic. If this be so, an entirely new and fresh 
interest is thrown over the Vale of the Clyde and the Tweed, indeed over 
the Lowlands of Scotland ; for these haughs and hills were once the scenes 
of struggles as patriotic, as heroic, as memorable as those of the Scottish 
War of Independence, long before the present Kingdom of Scotland had a 
being or a name. The ancient Briton, in his wild-beast skin, and eyeing 
his foe from his fortress of wattled heath on the windy hill, loved the 
wooded land so well that he fought for it with a sublime tenacity — a 
tenacity as remarkable as that which his Anglo-Saxon successor has shown 
under Bruce and the Stewarts, down to our own times. 

* This view is farther confirmed by a study of the old Welsh poems. The 
authors of these poems seem to have been intimately connected with 
Cymric Kingdom of Strathclyde and the North. Taliessin, the * the 
bright-browed,' was baird of Urian and Owen, British Princes of Reged, 
after the time of Arthur. Llywarch Hen was the son of Elidir, chief of 
Argoed. Reged and Argoed were divisions of Strathclyde. Aneurinn was 
a native of Alclyde, near Dumbarton, and Merlin was closely connected 
with Tweeddale. These early poems themselves contain numerous refer- 
ences to persons, to localities, and to incidents. In the main, they are 
corroborated by the Latin historians. Arthur is there as Guledig. He is 

Arthurian Localities^ p. 125. 

Tlie ScoUish Border. 113 

-f^ken of gratofally as ' Arthur the Blessed.' He is represented as guard- 
ing the wall, the southern defence of the Oymri, against Pict and Angle. 
< . . The most of the knights or companions whose names hundreds of 
years afterwards were spread over Europe in the mediseval romances — 
Anglo-Norman, French, and Latin — are to be found there. They are 
fighting in the north of the Cymric Kingdom, in what are now the Low- 
lands of Scotland, to recover the territory of their kindred Oymri from 
overriding Pict and Anglo-Saxon. Many of the places mentioned in the 
poems and historians can be traced in the names of the places now exist- 
ing; the legends and traditions connected with several of them are such as 
might be the germs of the mediaeval romances. Kay and Bedivere are 
there : — 

' Arthur and the fair Oai,' 

* And rejoiced 
Oai as he hewed down.' 

* In Mynyd Eiddyn * 
He contended with Cynvyn : 
By the hundred there they fell. 
There they fell by the hundred, 
Before the accomplished Bedivyr.* 

Mabon, the son of Mydren, the servant of Uther PendragOD, 
apparently lives in the very ancient Lochmaben. And Geraint 
is there too : — 

* Under the thigh of Geriant were swift racers, 
Long-legged, with the span of the stag. 
With a nose like that of a consuming fire on a wild mountain. 

'There is Llew or Lothus, there is the traitorous Modred, there is 
Merlinus Sylvestris or Merlinus Caledonius, and his sister Gwendydd, 
or Ganieda (the Dawn) and Chwifleian, or his lady-love and conqueror. ' 
There is finally the Eildons, near the border of the Cymric Kingdom, 
where the hope of the Cymri slept in the forms of Arthur and his quies- 
cent yet immortal Knights.' 

This Chwifleian or Vivien is really * The Gleam ' which 
Merlin saw, shaping itself into a vague female figure, lovely in 
outline and in feature, but with an expression as of ominous 
power somehow over his fate. ' She sought,* as Professor Veitch 
says, ' to shut him up, as he imagined, in one of the lonely 

* Now Edinburgh. 

114 The Scottish Border, 

crags of the hills, there to have him in her power, and to hold 
him forever in bonds of affection.* In Chwifleian we have 
assuredly some vague and fanciful representation of the mystic 
overshadowing that lies hidden even in the more beautiful and 
beneficent aspects of nature — a perception and a sentiment 
which have led to so many perversions in myth and religion 
— seen even in the great god Pan of the Greeks, who haunted 
the mid-day silence of the woods, but still had his goat-foot,. 
by a kick from which he could end the loveliest life or object 
and * aimed at increase, when he would destroy.' 

There can be no doubt that the Chwifleian of the bard 
Merliu, the haunter of his life among the hills, the inspiration of — 

* The fosterer of song among the streams,' 

became the Vivien or Nimiane of the mythic Merlin, and of 
tlio medieeval romancers. The sun-glints through the mists 
of the Drummelzier Laws have, in their personified and 
oroblomatical form, illumined the long-flowing stream of 
romance through mediaeval and modern times down to our 
own day. Therein the figure has assumed the form of the 
subtle tempter, seeking by low inducements to enthral the 
soer, to master his kingly intellect by working on his moral 
weakness. And very variously has the story of her method 
of success been figured. But Chwifleian is more a nymph or 
naittd than the siren as presented in the Greek mythology. 

Two poems that are with more or less of justification attri- 
buted to Merlin still exist. Both relate to the battle of Ard- 
deryd, at which he was present. The first is in the form of a 
dialogue between Merlin and his master and teacher, the gi-eat 
Taliessen ; the second is titled Avellanau, a series of pictures 
and prophecies. Seated at the foot of an apple-tree in the 
wood of Caledon, he sings a sad wail over the loss and blood- 
shed of the battle, and here is one of the verses : — 

* Sweet apple-tree that grows in the glade ! 
Their vehemence will conceal it from the lords of Rydderch, 
Trodden it is around its base, and men are about it. 
Sweet apple-tree, and a tree of crimson hue, 
Which grows in concealment in the wood of C^llydon ; 
Though sought for their fruit, it will be in vain, 

The Scottish Border, 115 

Until Cadwaladyr comes from the conference of Cadvaon 
To the eagle of Tywi (Tweed) and Teiwi (Teviot) river : 
And antil fierce anguish comes from Aranwynion, 
And the wild and long-haired ones are made tame.' 

And this is a passage from one of the oldest poems in British 

Drawing his great conclusion from the large array of facts 
presented from many and various sources, Professor Veitch 
proceeds : — 

' If this position be regarded as substantiated, or even if the proof be held 
as simply showing that the earliest mythical representations of Arthur had 
a foundation of fact in what is now called the South of Scotland, there 
clearly opens up to us an entirely new line of interest in connection with 
the Lowlands of our country. This district thus connects us \vith the 
greatest theme of mediaeval imagiuHtion and modem romance. For there 
is no single name in European literature, since the fall of the Koman 
Empire down to our time, with which are associated more poetic feeling 
and imaginings than with that of Arthur, the British chief ; there is 
none that has more frequently quickened ideal thoughts and longings in 
the finest minds in the long line of English and Continental poets and 

romancers. ' 

When Professor Veitch published his first edition, he was 
taken to task in more than one journal for his position with 
regard to the Cymri of the Tweed, his claiming of Arthur as 
a Border fighter, and his idea that from the songs of the 
Strathclyde Cymri flowed inspirations to Geofii*ey of Mon- 
mouth, and Wace, and Layamon. A great deal may be con- 
ceded, it was said, to the generous impulse of enthusiasm for 
a favourite idea, but in pushing to its extreme limit the theory 
of Mr. Skene in his Foiir Ancient Books of Wales, he had 
simply injured what would otherwise have been an admirable 
book. Professor Veitch's researches and investigations since 
then have, however, only further confirmed him in what 
was called his * heresy ; ' and the additional points he has 
brought in support of it, if not likely to convince these critics, 
will, by most impartial minds, be regarded as adding substan- 
tially to his evidence, and furnishing some of the most remark- 
able coincidences. Many of the facts he presents are hardly 
susceptible of being otherwise fully explained ; and the said 

116 The Scottish Border. 

critics would, we fear, find it bard to gain a satisfactory place 
for them in their scheme of Border history. 

It is difficult to say whether Professor Veitch is most inter- 
esting in tracing the probable history or destination of that 
unique wall and ditch and string of forts, the Catrail, or in 
demonstrating that Lord Tennyson adopted a far less lofty 
and impressive conception of the great wizard Merlin than he 
might have done from the touches regarding him to be met 
with in the pages of Skene and elsewhere. But it is abun- 
dantly clear that there were two Merlins — the traits of both 
probably mixed up and rendered inconsistent. The first was 
Merlin Ambrosius, Merdin Emrys. The second, Merlin of 
Tweeddale, is Myrdin Wyllt, or Merlin the Wild, Merlinus 
Sylvestris, or Woodland Merlin, and Merlinus Caledonius. 
* Either the true Merlin and his exploits are antedated or there 
were two Merlins. The latter, I believe, is the true supposi- 
tion; and 'the mythical attributes of the earlier Merlin have 
been assigned to the latter, while a third wholly legendary 
Merlin arose in the imagination of the romancer of the eleventh 

Professor Veitch thus justifies the time and attention he has 
devoted to the Cymri : — 

*I have thus sought to indicate the position of the Cymri in our national 
history, because it is a chapter in that history which is comparatively little 
known. And, further, these people do not occupy a place which is that of 
a mere broken past ; our life is continuous with theirs ; perhaps it is so 
through blood and imaginative impulses, which now and again have made, 
as has been suggested, their appearance in the course of our literature, in 
our sentiment, in our melancholy and despair, and in our defiant protest 
against the despotism of fact in the interest of memory or of a higher 
ideal. On this I do not give any opinion ; but I feel sure that these old 
Cymri are connected with us in the inspiration of romance, which has 
passed from them to the Continent of Europe, especially to Brittany, and 
back again to us. If we wish to recur to the fountain whence have sprung 
Arthurian traditions and its accompanying weird and heroic ideals ; if we 
wish to see the first out-wellings of that romance which has raised us 
above self and commonplace and conventionalism, which has influenced 
English poetry from Chaucer to Tennyson, we must go back to that Cymri 
people who loom so dimly in the early dawn of our history, the comfort of 
whose simple life was broken up by harassing war, who showed such a 
spirit of defence, who suffered so greatly and bore so patiently, and in exile 

The Scottish Border. 117 

longed 80 grandly, and hoped so nobly for the sight of their native 

hills I am not using the language of exaggeration when 

I say that the deeds^ the sufferings, particularly the exile into Brit- 
tany^ and the songs of the Oymri of the Tweed, grew into mediaeval 
gest and romance ; that the breatli of those uplands gave inspiration 
to the literature of Europe in the twelfth century ; as the ballad 
epics of the unknown minstrels of the Borders freshened it once again 
in the early part of this century of ours. The old songs and ballads 
of the Borderland, especially the Tarrow, are, as is well known, marked 
by an intense pathos, even sadness. The scenery no doubt had suuittliing 
to do with this, and the tragic deeds and the home sorrows that followed 
ihese have also their part in the result. But I cannot help thinking that 
the first source of the pathos and the sorrow, so far as human story is con- 
cerned^ is to be sought further back than even the time of Scottish history. 
The wilds of the Yarrow, the Ettrick, the Teviot, and the Tweed were the 
last resort, the last hope of a far-back decaying nationality — that of the 
Cymri of Strathclyde. Their bards, Taliessin and Merdyn (or Merlin) 
poured out impassioned wailings over what seemed an inevitable fate. 
Here and there these strains are touched with a gleam of hope which was 
never realised^ yet with a true Celtic fervour they ciung L) their uitive 
hills, subdued at heart, yet resolute and tenacious. And down even to 
the thirteenth century, and well on in Scottish history, they had preserved 
some fragments of their nationality, for their name still lingered at the 
Battle of the Standard (1138), and their customs were distinct and pecu- 
liar, for we still hear of the laws of the " Bretts and the Scotts.** ' 

What a strange and persistent thing is ract^ ! Not tlint it 
may always exist and prolong itself intact; but that, when 
fused or absorbed in other race and nationality its spirit yet 
remains — the traits by which it was distiny^uished re-assert 
themselves, give tone and colour to all tliat is to follow, as 
sometimes (like the Rhone in the Lake of Geneva) two streams 
joining, the very colour of the waters is preserved in their 
united course over long stretches, and, though mingled, their 
separate characters are not lost Is it not Mr. Grant Allen 
who has laid it down that wherever we find the true artistic 
sense, the music, the magic, the charm, the witching grace 
that cannot be defined, whether in music, poetry, (^r paititing, 
there you are sure to find the trace of some Celtic strain ? This 
has the most direct illustration here. Surely the poems and 
prophecies attributed to Thomas the Rh3'mer do indeed look 
like the out-bursting once more of the Cynjri seer and roman- 
cer, the more too that his prophecies take on a romantic 

118 The Scottish Border, 

patriotic character. *Such a man could not but see,' says 
Professor Veitch, * that the traditional oppression of the ancient 
Britons was about to be repeated on their Saxon successors ; 
he believed and hoped in a final deliverance ; and he readily 
adapted to his own time the floating legends of Cymric suffer- 
ings, temporary deliverance, and at least unsubdued hopes — 

^ Atween Craik Cross and Eildon-tree^ 
Is a' the safety that shall he.* 

Yet, as in the case of the Britons, the triumph was to be 
one of spirit, of phantasy, of imagination, and of a superior 
existence. In the Eildon hill, where King Arthur and bis 
knights, passive, yet immortal, lay waiting for a new order 
of things, was the door into the world of Faerie. The sweet 
belief iu that world was to be a salve for the woes ot this one: 
nature itself was pledged to aid. Thus the Celtic phantasy 
re-arises to enrich with ideas and ideals which the reverses of 
earthly fortune cannot take away. * Man is man and master 
of his fate.' 

' In the poetic fragments connected with the Rhymour,' says 
Professor Veitch, ' not only is there a feeUng for the softer 
side of natural beauty; there is obviously a sense, and an 
aesthetic one, of the wilder side ; of the dark recesses of the 
mountain, and of the mysterious caverns among the moors. 
These the Saxon imagination had peopled with fierce and un- 
lovely shapes for ages before. This finds its highest and best 
expression in Beowulf, and in the powers of evil dwelling in 
solitary meres and places which he assailed and overcame. 
The Rhymour was destined to make his journey in the dark 
ways, by the foundations of the hills and the deep sources of 
the springs, and to do it in company with one who, unlike the 
forms of the older faith, possessed something of the weakness 
and tenderness of humanity. 

* Scho ledde hym in at Eldone Hille, 
Underneath a deme * lee ; 
When it was dirke als mydnyght mirke. 
And euert the water till his knee.' 

* Dark. f Over. 

The Scottish Border. Hi) 

The montenans* of dayes three 
He herd bot Bwoghynge t of the flode. 
At the laste, he sayde, '' Fulle wa " es mee 
Almost I dye, for fawte| of fode.' 

The Sir Tristrem attributed to Thomas the Rhymour (Sir 
Walter Scott maintained this authorship, and argued that it 
was probably written in 1250) preserved the traditions then 
held in Lowland Scotland which had been handed down 
directly from the Cymric people of Strathclyde ; and he held 
that it is the original and prolific source of the subsequent 
French and German romances regarding Sir Tristrem. Mr. 
Ellis says, * Our ancestors appear to be indebted to a Scottish 
poet for the earliest model of a pure English style.' 

The question whether this Sir Tristrem was an original, or 
had been derived from versions in French or Icelandic (for 
there was undoubtedly an early Icelandic as well as a French 
version) has been debated, and Professor Veitch, after careful 
consideration, inclines to the view that it was either an original 
or taken from the Icelandic, as the order of events in both 
these versions is much the same. This is a very doubtful point; 
though the latter view finds some support in the fact also 
that the glamour and phantasy which formed such noticeable 
elements in the Cymric poetry are wanting, and instead we 
have more of the Scandinavian character, narrative power and 
epical clearness ; but this certainly does not apply to the series 
of poems in the Thornton MSS. in the Library of Lincoln 
Cathedral, which records the prophet's communings with the 
Queen of Faerieland and the prophetic utterances he learned 
from her, of which this is a specimen : — 

* At Threebum Grange,! on an after day, 
There shall be a long and bloody fray ; 
Where a three-thumbed knight by the reins shall hald 
Three king's horses, baith stout and bauld, 
And the three bums three days shall rin, 
Wi' the blude o' the slain that fa' therein.' 

* Duration, the space of. t Soughing, pulsing, as of moving water. 

X French faute^ want (of food). 

§ Professor Veitch has this note : ' Probably grains^ branches of a bum 
towards the head.' 

120 The SeottUh Border. 

The prophecies are all delivered in figures, obscure and 
dark, with touches of fiue faucy and feeling for nature. 

And do vre not find in the ballads and songs of Yarrow and 
of Tweed some survival of the qualities which made the Cymri 
great, which have sufBced to preserve tiieir name and fame ; 
and do not these same traits look out upon us anew as with 
some sense of surprise, in the poems and romances of Sir 
Walter Soott, and in such inexpressibly beautiful and ideal 
fancy and picture as we find in James Hogg's * Kilmeny ' and 
in the weird and bold and highly imaginative * Witch of Fife,' 
both of them founded on the conception of worlds and powers 
strange and supernatural, lying close to the ordinary and 
natural, and, indeed, springing from them. 

This is a note that is oft recurring. We have a very fine 
instance of it in the famous and powerful ballad of the * Young 
Tamlane * — one of the most perfect and typical of its time : 
We must cite a few of the verses in illustration : — 

' When I was a boy just tamed of nine. 
My uncle sent for me. 
To hunt and hawk, and ride with him 
And keep him companie. 

There came a wind oat of the north, 

A sharp wind and a snell. 
And a deep sleep came over me 

And frae my horse I fell. 

The queen of fairies keppit * me 

In yon green hill to dwell ; 
And I'm a fairy^ lyth and limb, 

Fair ladye, view me well. 

But we that live in Fairyland 

No sickness know, nor pain ; 
I quit my body when I will, 

And take to it again. 

I quit my body when I please. 

Or unto it repair ; 
We can inhabit at our ease, 

In either earth or air. 

* Caught while falling. 

The Scottish Border. 121 

Our shape and size we can convert 

To either large or small : 
An old nutshell's the same to us 

As is the lofty hall. 

We sleep in rosebuds soft and sweet, 

We revel in the streaui : 
We wanton lightly on the wind, 

Or glide on a sunbeam.'' 

When Professor Veitch proceeds to speak of the ruined 
Castles and Peel towers that dot the Borderlaud he is not only 
eloquent, but brings to bear on the subject all the close know- 
ledge of the scholar aud man of patient research. The rough 
and bloody episodes of the middle a4i:es he traces to social and 
political conditions in great part. There was not much unity, 
because there was too little dependence on the Scottish Crown. 
* In some parts of the Lowlands, particularly near the Border, 
to say nothing of the Debateable Land which lay between the 
Esk and the Sark, the tenure of land was not always 
recognised by the owner as flowing from or dependent on the 
Scottish Crown.' The only title was too often continued 
occupancy alone. This in many cases placed the laird and 
his retainers beyond the reach of any law, save the might that 
lay in their broadswords. Necess-irily and almost naturally, 
this lack of recognition of one sovereign power, led to clans 
and combinations of families for mutual protection, and hence 
the rise and maintenance of feuds through generations — feuds 
that now to us seem often only bloody and disgraceful. This 
accounts for much of the turbulent, revengeful and apparently 
bloodthirsty nature ot the ballads of this period and down 
even to the times of the Stuarts and the Rebellions. Here is 
a very characteristic note, by which we see that even the 
Church could not do other than recognise the title by which 
these lords held their places. It was customary in these 
counties for long, * to leave thf* right hand of male children 
unchristened, that it might deal the more deadly, in fact, the 
more unhallowed blow to the enemy, ^j this rite they were 
devoted to bear the family feud or enmity.'* 

♦ Minstrelsy, vii. , 144. 

122 The Scottish Border. 

John Leyden, in his ' Ode to Flodden ' commemorates this 
custom and the feelings from which it rose : — 

* Alas that Scottish maid should sing 
The combat where her lover fell ! 
That Scottish bard should wake the string 
The triumph of our foes to tell ! 
Tet Teyiot's sons with high disdain 
Have kindled at the thrilling strain, 
That mourned their martial father's bier ; 
And at the sacred fount, the priest 
Through ages left the master-hand unblest 
To urge, with keener aim, the blood anointed spear.' 

When Professor Veitch comes to deal with the Songs and 
Historical Ballads, this phase of the Border life has due 
celebration. * The Raid of the Reeds wire,* and * Jamie Telfer,* 
are duly quoted and commented on : — 

* But Willie was stricken ower the head, 

And through the knapscap * the sword has gane ; 
And Harden grat t for very rage 
When Willie on the grund lay slane. 

But he's taen aff his gude steel cap 

And thrice he's waved it in the air, 
The Dinlay J snaws were ne'er mair white, 

Nor the lyart § locks of Harden's hair. 

" Revenge ! Revenge ! " auld Wat gan cry : 
** Fye, lads, lay on them cruillie, 
We'll ne'er see Teviotdale again, 
Or Willie's death revenged sail be." 

O mony a horse ran masterless. 

The splintered lances flew on hie. 
But or they won to the Kershope ford. 

The Scots had gotten the victory ! ' 

And all this because the Captain of Bewcastle had made an on- 
set on Jamie Telfer's lonf^ tower on the Ettrick, and carried oflF 
his kye ; the feud was spread, and a crowd of others joined in 
pursuit for revenge, as suggested in the verses above quoted. 

* Headpiece. t Wept, shed tears. J A Lidderdale Hill. § White. 

The Scottish Border, 123 

The very spirit of the old Border life is there, its fiery fierce- 
ness, its fidelity to clanship, its wild delight of battle, its 
tender regrets for those who fell, and the pathos with which 
it dwelt on their memory, feeding its hatred at the very lowe 
of its love. 

Professor Veitch*s labours have been rewarded with the dis- 
covery of a new version of the 'Dowie Dens of Yarrow,' which 
he gives at length, with many explanations. This version is 
precious, because it to some degree enables us to see how the 
two inharmonious incidents were pieced together by Sir 
Walter Scott, and many, if not all of the inconsistencies are 
explained away. ' *' The Dowie Dens " as given by Sir Walter 
Scott was a mixed, therefore incongruous reference to the 
incident of the earlier ballads, and to a later incident in the 
relations of the families of Scott of Thirlestane and Scott of 

When Professor Veitch comes to deal with Border song of 
more recent times, he is as Catholic as he is discerning ; quot- 
ing from Mr. Andrew Lang and * The Scottish Probationer,' 
Thomas Pringle, T. T. Stoddart, and J. B. Selkirk, as well as from 
Principal Shairp (whose 'Bush aboon Traquair' should never 
be forgotten — such a fine sympathetic restoration is it) and Dr. 
John Brown. This part of the book is likely perhaps to prove 
the most generally interesting. But some of Professor Veitch's 
own ballads might well have had a place — for them the reader 
must still go to * The Tweed,' ' Merlin, and other Poems,* 
* Hillside Rhymes,' etc. 

Some of Professor Veitch's bits of landscape are alike exact 
and powerful. He paints at once with fine and broad touches, 
and brings the scene vividly before the reader. In this respect 
he is so successful indeed that we should do him wrong did we 
not present a specimen in justification of what we have said. 
Here is his careful and eloquent picture of Broad Law or 
Broad Alb — the highest summit in the great range of moun- 
tains in the South of Scotland — 2754 feet above the sea- 
level : — 

* Once on the summit of the height, we find immediately around us a 
vast level plain, with short and scanty herbage, chiefly hill-mosses and 

124 The Scottish Border, 

lichens. All trace and feeling of man, of planting, ploughing and building 
have disappeared^ We are absolutely alone — alone with earth and sky, 
save for the occasional cry of a startled sheep, and the summer hum of 
insects on the hill-top — 

** That undefined and mingled hum — 
Voice of the desert, never dumb." 

Here and there a very tiny yellow-faced tormentilla, a very slender, blue- 
eyed harebell, or a modest hill-violet peeps timorously out on the barren- 
ness, like an orphan that has strayed on the wild. But we look around 
us from this great height, and what strikes the eye 1 On all sides, but 
particularly to the east of us, innumerable rounded broad hill- tops run in 
a series of parallel flowing ridges, chiefly from the south-west to the north- 
east, and between the ridges we note that there is enclosed in each a 
scooped-out glen in which we know that a bum or water flows. These 
hill-tops follow each other in wavy outline. One rises, flows, and passes 
softly into another. This again rises, flows, passes into another beyond 
itself ; and thus the eye reposes on the long soft lines of a sea of hiUs, 
whose tops move and yet do not move, for they carry our vision along 
their undulating flow, themselves motionless, lying like an earth ocean in 
the deep quiet calm of their statuesque beauty. , 

' Near us are the heads of the bums, and the heads of the glens, which 
on the one hand, run northward to the Tweed, and, on the other, south- 
ward to the Yarrow. Here, at one bum-head, we have deep, peaty bogs, 
out of which ooze black trickling rills ; there, at another, we have a well- 
eye, fringed with bright mosses and fair forget-me-nots of purer hue and 
more slender form than any that the valley can show. The burn gathers 
strength and makes its way down through a deep red scaur and amid grey- 
bleached boulder stones, then, overshadowed by the boughs of a solitary 
rock-rooted birch, leaps through a sunny fall to a strong, deep eddying 
pool. At length it reaches the bottom of the glen, where it winds round 
and round, amid links of soft green pasture, amid sheen of bracken and 
glow of heather — passes a solitary herd's house — the only symbol of human 
life there — now breaks against a dark-grey opposing rock, then spreads 
itself out before the sunlight in soft music amid its stones. Finally, leav- 
ing the line of hills that shut in the glen on each side, the stream mingles 
with one of the waters of the South, or with the Tweed itself, on the north 
of the central range of mountains. This central mountain of Broad Law 
commands a view of nearly the whole Borderland of Scc^tland. The hills, 
the dales, the waters of this district are all before you, either distinctly to 
be seen, or capable of localisation. The eye can sweep from Nithside on 
the west to the dales of Yarrow, Ettrick, and Teviot on the south and east. 
The long blue line of the Cheviots, called of old the Montes Ordeluci, 
bounds the southern horizon.' 

The Scottish Border. 125 

We have spoken of the descent through ages of the qualities 
that marked the Cymri, perpetuating themselves in chosen 
characters and coming upon us as with a sense of surprise in 
literature. May we not find something' of the same element in 
the work of the author of The Scottish Border^ lie has himself 
given life in a sense to many of the touching incidents con- 
nected with the Olivers, and Pringles, and Tweedies, and what 
is yet more, with the Lords of Dawyck, and cast even a 
glamour of fancy o'er the silvery Tweed. That one bear- 
ing the name of Veitch should exhibit this fine sympathy with 
the past, and combine with it untiring patience and keen 
tender love of nature, is not without its significance in ways 
which he himself could not directly celebrate. But the point 
deserves note — the more that amid the turbulence displayed 
by many of these Border Veitches, due to the keen individu- 
ality developed in them by the circumstances amid which they 
lived, we can detect — and this even in the ' Deil of Dawyck' 
himself, a touch of wild, rude poetry and romance, and half- 
hidden sentiment ; and certainly those, as well as their strong 
insight, resolution and persistency, are illustrated anew in their 
historian. In him there is nothing of the Dryasdust ; he sees 
everything in relation to a fine ideal ; and facts with him are 
of value only as they reveal the lite and show how the hearts 
beat. He has worked on the Border lore and life till he has 
become possessed of its spirit, yet he keeps a clear head — as 
did his forbears — and sets everything in order and striking re- 
lationship before us. He connects the near with the remote. 
He makes us feel anew that the present-day phenomena of 
character and type trace themselves to causes far back in the 
past, to many subtle, unseen causes working together, as the 
tiny threads of streams that trickle, hidden, under mountain 
mosses, go to make the broad rivers that brighten and relieve 
the wide-spreading lands below. 

Thinking of all these things makes us inclined to quote here 
a sonnet, from a little series, due to a visit to St. Andrews after 
Professor Veitch had left that quaint city by the sea for a 
wider sphere in Glasgow : — 

126 Antiquities of Cyprus, 

' And one I miss hath turned him to the West, 
To hold high place as warder of the rules 
Of ordered thought, and careful test the tools 
Of Science* servants still to come ; whose breast 
Nathless is troubled with the sweet unrest 
Of poets' fancy and the sense that guides 
The nature-lover to the mountain-sides — 
By lonest streams to wander undistrest. 
The border and its ballads find him true. 

By sympathetic tact to render back 
Their misty meanings, and their life renew ; 
With him to pace the hard and heathery track 
Is bounteous company ; the lonesome waste 
Is then by many a noble figure graced. ' 

Alexander H. Japp. 

Art. VIL— antiquities OF CYPRUS. 

Kyprosy by Herr Max Ohnefalsch Richter, Ph.D. London. 

THE antiquities of Cyprus have attracted the attention of 
archaeologists for the last half century, and the discovery 
of the peculiar script used in the island has been of great value 
for the study of antiquity. The explorations have — as in 
Egypt — been somewhat desultory and unorganised, and many 
valuable objects have been lost and destroyed; but the results 
have been numerous, and the European musemns have been 
enriched by many curious and archaic objects of art, and in- 
teresting inscriptions. In the volume cited above, a collection 
has been made of the principal results, though epigraphy is 
scarcely represented. The publishers have been very liberal 
in the matter of illustration, and some of the best plates are 
new and interesting. Herr Richter has himself added much 
to our knowledge, and is a diligent student of the writings of 
contemporary scholars. At the same time it would be desir- 
able, for the benefit of those who cannot aflFord so bulky and 

Antiquities of Cyprus. 127 

expensive a volume, that some shorter account should be 
written of the actual facts, as distinguished from learned dis- 
sertations on the religions of the ancients, concerning which 
there is much difference of opinion ; and such a volume need 
not contain the mass of illustrations taken from other works, 
and from the art of other countries. By such means the general 
public might better be able to estimate the present condition 
of archaeology in this interesting island. 

No objects of the finest Greek style have been found, and 
the native art seems always to have been rude and grotesque. 
The attribution of much that bears Cypriote texts was at first 
wrongly made, for it was supposed that the inscriptions would 
turn out to be Phoenician, and even Perrot and Chipiez have 
classed under this head statues which are now known to be of 
Greek origin. The discovery of archaic female statues at 
Athens which much resemble those of Cyprus, agrees with the 
discovery made by George Smith in 1872, that the Cypriote 
characters concealed writings in a Greek dialect. 

If there were any earlier inhabitants of the island than the 
Phoenicians, they at least do not seem to have left any trace 
of their presence. The Egyptians, who had fleets on the 
Mediterranean as early as 1500 B.C., knew Cyprus well. Even 
as early as the time of Thothmes III. it is supposed to be men- 
tioned, under the name of Asebi, as a place where chariots 
were made of gold and silver, and whence copper (or bronze), 
lead, blue-stone, and elephants' tusks were brought. After 
the invasion of Egypt by rude Aryan hordes, in the time of 
Rameses XII. (about 1200 B.C.), the Egyptians are thought to 
have attacked Cyprus in revenge. The names of Idalion, 
Kition, Soli, and other cities in the island, appear to occur on 
a monument of this reign. Yet earlier, Meneptah II. had ships 
on the Mediterranean, in which he sent wheat to Northern 

The presence of the Phoenicians is attested by numerous in- 
scriptions, in their own language and character. Benan 
enumerates more than eighty of these, but they are not very 
ancient, belonging mainly to the 4th and 5th centuries B.C. 
From them we learn the names of seven of the twelve Phoe- 

128 Antiquities of Cyprus. 

nician months, which included Bui and Ethamim (used by the 
Hebrews before the captivity), and the names of several 
Phoenician gods, but they are mainly votive texts, and contain 
very little matter of historic interest. The Phoenician settle- 
ments appear to have been mainly on the south side of the 
island, at Citium, Amathus, Paphos, etc., where the Sidonians 
lived ; but the men of Gebal had a colony at Golgos further 

It was from one of these texts, dating from 376 B.C., that 
George Smith obtained the clue to the native characters. 
The Phoenician reads thus : — 

« . . . in the (4th year) iiii. of King Melekyathon, ruling 
Kition and Idalion, the prince (Baalram) son of Abd Milcom, 
placed this new statue for Reseph Mical, who had heard his 
prayer, blessed be he.' 

The Cypriote characters were found to give the same mean- 
ing in somewhat rude Greek, and a secure basis for decipher- 
ment was thus obtained, which has given satisfactory results 
in all cases where such texts occur. Dr. Deecke has collected 
the texts, and continued the work which was begun by the 
English scholar,* and new texts are constantly discovered. 
The character is not alphabetic, but consists of a syllabary of 
53 sounds, which emblems are pretty generally agreed to find 
their prototypes in the Hittite hieroglyphics of Syria and Asia 
Minor — as Dr. Sayce first pointed out — by which means the 
sounds of some 40 Hittite signs may be established. But the 
system was ill adapted to express the forms of a language like 
Greek, with its many long and short vowels; and its peculiari- 
ties appear to arise from the fact that it was originally used 
for a Non-Aryan language, which on other grounds is deter- 
mined as having been Mongolic. The syllabary did not 
originate in Cyprus, and it was used by the Carians on the 
mainland to the north, and continued to be so used till the 
time of Alexander the Great, or even later. It appears to fur- 
nish the early forms from which originated the alphabets of 

Die Griechesh-Kyprischen Inschriften in Epicorischen Schrift, 1883. 

Antiquities of Cyprus. 129 

Phoenicia and Greece and Lycia,* a view which is slowly 
winning acceptance among scholars. The Cypriote syllabary 
is thus the origin of all the alphabetic scripts that have ever 
existed, for the Phoenician alphabet is the parent of them all 
(as is well recognised by epigraphists), and superseded the 
clumsier Cuneiform and Egyptian systems. 

The Cypriote texts on stones and coins give the names of 
Greek and Phoenician kings, between about 527 and 307 B.C., 
some fifteen in all being known, including Evagoras, Nicokles, 
and Menelaos of Salamis — the latter in the time of Ptolemy I : 
Nicokles of Paphos, contemporary with Alexander the Great, 
and Stasioikos of Kurion and Paphos in 440 B.C. From Assy- 
rian texts we know that in Yatnan^ or Cyprus, there were 
seven kings or chiefs in the time of Sargon, about 708 B.C., 
and this conqueror invaded the island and set up at Kition a 
monument of himself. Diodorus (xvi. lii. 4) speaks of nine 
kings, but these petty princes cannot have ruled more than 
about 400 square miles apiece. The island is purely Phoeni- 
cian in the Homeric poems, and even in 370 B.C. the names in 
the bilingual shew that a Phoenician ruler reigned at Kition 
and Idalion. The Greeks are sometimes thought to have 
arrived as early as the ninth century B.C., but did not probably 
become powerful till about the time of Alexander's conquests, 
or at earliest after the defeat of Xerxes, when 120 Greek ships 
from Cyprus aided his advance. 

The statues and small votive figures, of which so many have 
been dug up in the island, are for the most part uninscribed. 
One bears in Cypriote characters the text ' Moisedemos vowed 
me.' A few of the oldest bear a likeness to the Syrian native 
art, but the majority seem to be Greek, and some belong to 
Roman times. The artists of Cyprus were, however, but feeble 
imitators of the Greek — like those who carved the rude statues 
of Commagene. A foolish grin is depicted on the faces of 
men and women alike. The hair is often dressed in long 
plaits on the shoulders, such as appear in very early repre- 

* See my paper on the subject in the quarterly statement of the Pales- 
tine Exploration Fund. January, 1889, p. 17. 

130 Antiquities of Cyprus. 

sentatione of Greeks, and the beard is worn without moustaehey 
which was also a Greek custom. On the sarcophagi Greek 
legends are pictured, such as the birth of Pegasus and Chry- 
saor (at Athieno), and the story of Hercules and Geryon. The 
most distinctive figure is perhaps the Paphian Venus (Ash- 
toreth), of whom numerous rude and gross naked figures exist, 
which recall those of Mesopotamia. Others of Aphrodite are 
however much later, and belong to Greek and Roman art. 
The small earthenware figures and groups from tombs — often 
representing a dance round the sacred tree — are yet more 
primitive in style, though not therefore of necessity very 
ancient. The work in which the Cypriotes excelled was metal 
work, and much of their jewelry and engraved bowl-ornament 
is delicate and beautiful ; but the pottery is inferior, and its 
paintings of the rudest character; and very little really good 
Greek work has been discovered. 

Dr. Richter does not treat of either the history or the epi- 
graphy of his subject, but confines himself to the antiquities, 
and to the fascinating but obscure subject of mythology. He 
gives a summary of the sites where excavations have been 
made, and several interesting notices of native superstitions. 
We may turn therefore from the above introductory remarks 
to consider some of the more interesting sites, antiquities, and 
peasant customs to which he refers. 

At Achna, half-way between Larnaca and Salamis, the 
peasants discovered a Temple of Artemis in 1882, with pottery 
statues twelve feet high, and a votive text. At Voni, on the 
south slopes of the north range, was found in the following 
year a fane of Apollo, a colossal limestone statue, with a good 
many Greek votive texts, and a statue with a Cypriote inscrip- 
tion by Gillika. At Dali, in the central region, as early as 
1855, Mr. G. Watkins obtained two terra-cotta statues, and two 
limestone heads, now at Berlin. Ten miles to the west, at 
Taraassos, in 1885, were found sculptures and two bilinguals 
— Cypriote and Phoenician ; and in 1889 bronze statues were 
also discovered. Discoveries of value (including Phoenician 
texts) were made by Cesnola at Kition in 1880, and at 
Pharangas, N.E. of Achna, which need not be specially 

Antiquities of Cyprus. 131 

noticed. At Ormidhia, ia 1882, a curious terra-cotta statuette 
was found (with other votive figures) representing a man 
with an ox under his arm. At Pedalion, our author, in 1890, 
states that he found many stone figures larger than life. 
Similar remains occur at Arsos, and at Marathovouno ; and at 
Goshi, nine miles north-west of Lamaka, sixteen votive texts 
in honour of the Paphian goddess have been recovered. 
Athieno was one of the most important religious centres ia the 
eastern plain ; and here General Cesnola found some of his most 
remarkable statues, including the figure of a man with long 
plaited locks and curly beard, holding a cup in the right hand 
and a dove in the left. There appear to have been two 
sanctuaries at this place, with a hill between them, suiTounded 
by sacred groves. At Pyla Mr. Lang found texts of Apollo 
Magirios, and groups representing Hercules, Pan and Antemis, 
with terra-Qottas of dancing women, and groups hand in hand 
round the holy cypress tree. 

Near Dali (Idalion) were two temples, that to the west being 
sacred to the goddess called Anat by the Phoenicians and 
Athene by the Greeks, and that to the east being for Ashtoreth 
or the Greek Aphrodite. Between them was a shrine of 
Apollo (the Phoenician Reseph) where Mr. Lang found many 
inscriptions. A group of Aphrodite with two children — one a 
babe in swaddling bands — was early discovered here on the 
eastern site ; and not far off underground tombs built of stone 
have been excavated. In the shrine of Ambelleri, which 
appears to have stood in the sacred grove of Athene in this 
same vicinity, the long Cypriote text on copper — called the 
Luynes Tablet, now at Paris — was discovered, with weapons, 
paterae and other objects of bronze, and a piece of armour with 
a short Phoenician text. Here, too, in 1887, Herr Richter 
found a dedication to Anat, including the names of Kings of 
Kition and Idalion. Several other smaller shrines surrounded 
these temples. Terra-cotta masks of men's and beasts' heads 
were found by our author, which seem to have been hung on 
the sacred trees — a custom which was not unknown among the 

Lythrodonad, six miles N.E. of Tamassos, towards the north 

132 Antiquities of Cyprus. 

of the island, was a copper mining region ; and copper (the 
^s Cyprium) took its name from Cyprus, and first attracted 
the Phoenician traders. The slag heaps still remain, and near 
the stream, in 1883, were found lamps and coins of the 
Ptolemies and of the early Roman Empire. Not impossibly 
these are remains of some superstitions worship at the stream, 
such as Cyril of Jerusalem (Catechet Lect. xix., 1) notices, when 
forbidding to the Christians of the 4th century * things done 
to lifeless idols, the lighting of lamps or baming of incense 
by fountains or rivers,' which was supposed to be a cure for 
disease. The custom still survives among Moslems in Palestine. 

Amathus^ or Hamath, on the south coast, was explored by 
Cesnola in 1883, and was the sacred town of Zeus Labranios. 
Hence came the gigantic statue of a homed Hercules tearing 
a lion, which now stands before the Museum at Constantinople, 
with another colossal statue from Gaza. There were other 
copper mines on Mount Sinoas, seven miles to the north, where 
was found by Laniti, in 1877, an ancient Phoenician text from 
a bronze vessel, which a native of Carthage vowed to Baal- 
lebanon, and which may be as old as 800 B.C. 

At Hyle, in a ravine in the south-west comer of the island, 
was the shrine of Apollo Hylates, where Cesnola found 
statues and fragments of Cypriote texts: and the name of this 
sylvan god occurs on others at Drymon, on the west coast, 
twelve miles north of New Paphos., Cape Boumo on the north, 
takes its name' from an ancient altar of Aphrodite. In the 
Valley of Solia, five miles S.E. of Soloi, other remains of 
groups have been recovered, representing women dancing 
round a flute player ; and fragments of silver paterae with 
flowers in relief, and a bronze patera with a battle of Greeks 
and Amazons also in relief. 

In 1888 the Cyprus Exploration Fund uncovered the 
foundations of the famous Paphos temple, and found remains 
of Roman and of earlier buildings, with texts referring among 
other matters to the feast of the erection of the Conical Stone, 
which was the emblem of the Paphian goddess, and lists of 
subscribers to statues ; but the temple had been wrecked and 
despoiled by some earlier visitors, and no important statues 

Antiquities of Cyprus, 133 

remained. Herr Richter, in 1890, found here a text referring 
to Apollo, who was adored with the Goddess of Paphos, whose 
licentious rites Constantine abolished here and at Afka in 
Lebanon. Mr. S. G. Hogarth found other shrines further 
north, of Apollo Melanthios, and Apollo of the Myrtle, near 
Amaryeti, in 1888. 

The Goddess Here was worshipped in the hills above, as 
shewn by inscriptions, and at Amathus, and with Zeus Poleios 
and Aphrodite at Paphos. On a rock on the south slopes of 
the northern range, at Lariiaka-tou-Lapithou, was found a 
Phoenician and Greek bilingual (No. 95 of the Corpus of 
Semitic Inscriptions) dedicating an altar to Anat-Athene. At 
Salamis the Cyprus Exploration Fund obtained a marble 
statue of Serapis with Cerberus, a female statue, and oxheaded 
masks. At Toumpa, close by, they made extensive finds of 
terra-cottas, and limestone figures, and a broken colossus which 
must have stood fifteen feet high. The statues here were 
painted like those of the early Greeks. At Karpas, which Mr. 
Hogarth identifies with Kuidos, is a text in which the latter 
name occurs ; and remains of colossal statues are found here 
also. Cape Andrea, the N.E. point of Cyprus, with its rock cut 
chapel and spring, was the shrine of Aphrodite Akraia, whose 
temple, according to Strabo, women were forbidden to enter. 

These various discoveries attest the zeal of the numerous 
explorers who followed one another; and they equally show 
the piety of the Phoenicians and of the later Greeks and 
Romans ; but it is remarkable that the oldest known remains 
do not seem to go back further than about 800 B.C., though 
the island was known probably from much earlier times. Nor 
do they inform us of the character of the earliest population. 
Probably the Phoenicians, who had ships all along the Syrian 
coast in 1500 B.C., may have been the first to sail so far from 
land. The influence of the Egyptians seems to have been 
small ; and though Sargon invaded Cyprus it was, as a rule, a 
place of refuge for the kings of Tyre, Sidon and other sea- 
ports, when the Assyrians harried their towns on the mainland. 
A good many cylinders with cuneiform texts have been sold 
in Cyprus, but some are pronounced forgeries, and none pro- 

134 Antiquities of Cyprus. 

bably were inscribed on the island. One, however, is noticed 
by Herr Richter, as unearthed by himself, at Agia Paraskevi, 
near Nicosia, in a tomb, being a signet mounted in gold. 
The copy is not quite clear, but the text appears to read Rubu 
rabu Telattu Ahd lu Akhau. * The great chief Telattu,* 
worshipper of the God of the West.* Another found in Cyprus 
bears a representation of a hero and lion, with the text, Surgani 
Dubsaru (or more probably, Mugani Dubsaru) the name of a 
scribe. The characters are archaic, but it is not likely that 
the meaning is * Sargon's scribe,* as proposed, because of the 
syntax, and there is no evidence to show the date, or to ex- 
plain how these cylinders — which are of foreign make — came 
to the island. 

In excavations at Agia Paraskevi an Egyptian scarab was 
found in 1884, belonging to the new empire, and vases like 
those of Mycenae, about 1000 B.C., or older. At Amathus, in 
1890, was discovered a capital with a head somewhat like that 
of Athor at Denderah, but the same head-dress is found on 
Syrian antiquities, and the early art of Cyprus generally seems 
more akin to that of the mainland to the East, than to that of 

Herr Richter does not speak as though he was personally 
acquainted with ancient scripts or Oriental languages, and is 
perhaps rather too ready to receive the statements of scholars 
who are not always to be confidently followed. Thus the 
sign, vos or nos, proposed by Dr. Deecke, has still to be sub- 
stantiated ; and the dates of Sargon the 1st, and of the Baal 
Lebanon text, are both very doubtful. Duzi could not possibly 
mean ' Son of life,' but if Akkadian means the * child spirit,' 
being the infant deity represented in Chaldea, Phoenicia, and 
Egypt ; and Amur Shamash means * behold Sun God,' being 
a personal name. Herr Richter, like other antiquaries, diverges 
into questions of Canaanite mythology, which are not well 
understood, but in speaking of the Bamoth or 'high places,' he 
omits to notice the light thrown on the subject by the use of 
the word on the Moabite stone. It is very clear from this, and 

* Possibly the proper name should read Tiglattu for Tiglath. 

Antiquities of Cyprus. 135 

from other circumstances, that the word means * erect ' or 
^ memorial ' stonea The suggestion that Jehovah was sym- 
bolised by a post or a bull's head, can only be characterised 
as a product of the perverseness of that modem school which 
attempts to degrade the God of Isaiah to the level of a 
Canaanite idol. 

Herr Richter also treats of Hittite hieroglyphics, but rejects 
the generally accepted comparison with Cypriote, in favour of 
comparisons with emblems taken from various sources, the 
connection of which is not at all clear as a rule. There is 
perhaps more to be said in favour of his view that the early 
inhabitants of the island were Aryans from Asia Minor ; for, as 
already said, the Carians used the same script found in Cyprus, 
and were themselves partly Aryan, though probably they 
derived their syllabary from the Mongols, who have left traces 
of their language in certain Carian words. 

Some of the most interesting pages in Herr Richter*s work 
are those in which, from personal experience, he writes of the 
native customs of the Cypriotes. Here we stand on firmer 
ground than in discussing the relations between the local 
deities of Phoenicians, Greeks, and others, which were as 
shifting and little defined as the legends of Saints, or of 
Moslem holy men, in later times. The population of Cyprus 
is stated to be only 186,173 souls, including 137,631 Greek 
orthodox, and 45,458 Moslems. There are Very few Jews, 
and the rest include Syrians from Lebanon and others. The 
Greeks thus represent two-thirds, and the Turkish Moslems 
one-third of the inhabitants, the latter being chiefly found in 
the mountain villages where they have perhaps lived for nearly 
a thousand years, since the time of the Soljuks. The customs 
described are mainly Greek. Thus the pomegranate is still a 
wedding emblem, as it was in ancient times, and as it still is 
in Syria. In the hills near Nicosia there is a picture of the 
Virgin, the Panagia ton KikkoUy said (like the more famous one 
at Tortosa) to have been painted by St. Luke, and which is 
believed to grant rain in answer to vows and prayers. On the 
Saturday before Palm Sunday the ceremony of the ' Lazarus 
boy ' is celebrated in all parts of the island. A boy is dressed 

18fi Antiquities of Cyprus. 

ID a robe of flowers — especially the yellow chrysanthemum, 
which flourishes all over the plains — and is attended fi'om 
house to house by a choir, with music, and by Greek priests. 
At each house he acts (somewhat like our mummers, who still 
survive in Hampshire at Christmas time) a representation of 
the raising of Lazarus. A myrtle branch is used to sprinkle 
him with holy water, after which he is supposed to come to 
life. The householders throw vice and lemon water over the 
Laxarus boy, and give gifta The music consists of flutes, 
guit^irs, fiddles, tambourines and other Eastern instruments. 
Both Laimnis and the Magilalen are locally believed to have 
been buried in Cyprus ; but the festival is no doubt a Chris- 
tianised form ot the ancient resurrection of Adonis, which was 
ca^oe celebrated at Gebal in Syria and elsewhere, and it may 

be ascribed to the earlv Phcenician eultus. 


On the first day of Lent the Cypriotes gather, saying, ' Let 
us cut off the nose of Leni»^ and hold a field festival with song, 
musac and drinking^ On May day the girfe observe the ' set- 
ting up of the Jlut/ wh^i husbands are predicted by divining 
with ring^ which are thrown into a bowl with blossoms of the 
pomegranate (a wedding emblem) and covered over with a 
red clothe Aft<»r three days the rings are drmwn^ and the for- 
tune of the owner i$ :^uig in songs sometimes licentious; for 
tW dd Paphian worship i» not quite extinct even now. At 
Kasl«^> wheat is sown in pots and bai^etsy which, are cooee^ 
crated by the priests in the churches. Some of these are sent 
to mooasterieiSv some are tended at home. This is dearly the 
^^urvtvaL of the old ^ Adodb Garden^" which were once usual 
iti maay pait$ of the £4^ Lenormant speaks of them * ia 
Greece^ and they appe^ur on the corns of Sidba and F^^fe^k^ i^ 
SyriiiL The cus^tom pcev^&iled al^ in iSardmi^ and in manj 
pttftis^ of Italy. Theovrrituij v^^yl^ ^*^- 1^1^^ ^ i^ ijuoted by Herr 
l^^'hter a^ deecribing the i>ii>tival at AleTMn^fr^ in tibe time o£ 
!?1wlt?my PbiladelphusJv when ^^urdens were made in ^vor 
baf^ec^s ^i<:td adoraed with auimaJL sshd^ei^ Ft^rures of Aphn>- 
difce and jLdiJuii?^ wi:fre laid m them side bv side» wttit eake^ of 

Antiquities of Cyprus. 137 

meal, honey, and oil. It is well understood that this custom 
was connected with the return of spring. * 

On Good Friday, the Dead Christ is represented in His bier 
in the churches ; the bier, decorated with palms and flowers, 
and cakes shaped like animals, or dolls, birds, crabs, snakes or 
tortoises, are made of meal, honey, and oil, as of old. The 
dish called the Kolyva is also very famous in Cyprus, in con- 
nection with religious rites, and is made each Sunday by one 
peasant of the congregation for the rest. It consists of soaked 
wheat, with fruits (almonds, raisins, figs, and pomegranates) 
and sesame seed, to which preserves and sugar plums are 
added. Wheat loaves, unleavened and sugared, accompany 
it, and it is brought into the church with the consecrated wine; 
and lighted tapers are stuck in it and in the loaves ; both being 
placed near the icon screen before the apse, on a table, and in- 
censed and sprinkled by the priests. After the service it is 
eaten in the churchyard, and the more honoured guests are 
sprinkled with rose and orange water, poured on the head and 
hands. So important a part of the service is this custom, that 
the saying, *No Kolyva, no service,' is common. It is prepared 
also in honour of anniversaries, and in memory of the dead^ 
and recalls the bloodless sacrifices of the Paphian shrine, and 
the offerings shown on Egyptian pictures. Herr Richter com- 
pares the Fyanepsia and the Eiresione of ancient Athens. 

The Cypriotes call the Kolyva the Sperma, which recalls 
the old Greek panspermia — a sweet stuff in pots — represented 
on ancient vases, and used for consecrations, and in fulfilment 
of vows. Cyprus is not peculiar in the survival of such ancient 
rites among the Christian population, for the same may be re- 
marked in the Lebanon ; but the isolation of the island causes 
the native customs to be specially immutable. The same may 
probably be the case among the Turkish hill populations, 
though little seems to have been gathered concerning them.. 
In the middle of the bazaar at Nicosia is a sacred tree, in 
which the Turks keep a lighted lamp ; and this very ancient 

* Like other antiquaries Herr Richter quotes Isaiah xvii. 10-11, in thi» 
connection as referring to this custom, but the connection is not very close. 

138 Antiquities of Cyprus. 

tree worship is common also among Syrian Moslema The 
fitones of an ancient building, at the Salt Lakes of Larnaka, 
were, according to the Turks, the tomb of the Prophet's nurse, 
and three of them floated over the sea — a legend common 
enough. Holy stones are indeed as numerous in Cyprus as in 
other lands. 

Dr. Richter gives some further information as to the curious 
pairs of pierced stones, which are found in different parts of 
the island, which some have taken to belong to olive presses. 
They are much larger than the stones usually forming part of 
such presses, and they are intimately connected in Cyprus — as 
are menhirs and monoliths all over the world — with peasant 
superstitions. Two of these stones, near Old Paphos, have 
often been described ; and in the same region is another one 
called * the holy pierced stone ' — ^recalling the Odin Stone of 
our own islands. Four other * holy stones ' (agia petrai) are 
found at Agios Photios, and another near the ruined church of 
Kolossi, between Kurion and Limasol, which till quite recently 
was venerated, ailing children being ' passed through * the 
hole in the stone, and lighted tapers and lamps, placed in 
niches in its sides ; coins were also laid on it as offerings, and 
the hoard removed from time to time by the priests. Over 
another such stone barren women used to jump, girls broke 
glasses beside it, and old women lighted tapers to be cured of 
diseases. Lovers also have plighted troth by joining hands 
through these stones, and parallels to all these customs might 
be drawn from the peasant rites of L-eland, Scotland, or Eng- 
land, indeed of all Europe and Asia, as far as India, or with 
the recorded rites of Greeks, Phoenicians, Arabs and others in 
ancient days. The holy stone, the sacred tree, the consecrated 
stream, and grove, and hill, meet us in all parts of the world, 
in mythologies described from the very earliest times, down to 
the present day. 

One of the most curious Christian rites is that of the Judas 
effigy, which is punished annually. The figure is stuffed with 
fireworks and inflammable materials, and is put to death in the 
court of the church of St. Lazarus, at Larnaka, in various 
ways, being shot, hung, blown up, or burnt, young and old 

Antiquities of Cyprus. 139 

dancing on the embers. Like the straw figures which the 
Vestals used to fling from the bridge of the Tiber, this custom 
may mark the survival of the old rite of human sacrifice, which, 
though put down by the Romans in the West, long survived 
in Syria and Arabia, and near Carthage, among the Semitic 
races, who were most given perhaps of all early nations to this 
terrible practice. 

At Whitsuntide another kind of festival takes place, when 
Cypriotes pour water over each other, and indulge in maritime 
rites of boating and bathing. Herr Richter compares the St. 
Lucia at Naples, where in August the lazzaroni parade in pro- 
cession, with music and fireworks, and decked with truit and 
flowers, fling themselves and one another into the sea. The 
custom was also known to the early Romans, and similar 
marine rites occur in India. The propitiation of sea deities, 
during the season for sailing, was common to all sea-side 
peoples; and Sennacherib offered gifts to the waters of the 
Persian Gulf. 

It is to be regretted that the attention of antiquaries is not 
called to the mediaeval antiquities of Cyprus. From the time 
when King Richard Lion Heart, bestowed his conquest on 
Guy of Lusignan, after the loss of Jerusalem, the island re- 
mained in the power of the Franks, until it was bought by the 
Venetians, who were in turn expelled by the Turks. Some of 
the finest churches and castles built by the Normans are to be 
found in Cyprus, and many traces of the occupation, and of 
the Templars and other military orders, might no doubt be de- 
scribed ; but the student of Oriental antiquities regards such 
remains — though the buildings are older than most of our 
English cathedrals — as being quite modern, and without in- 
terest. Through want of study of Byzantine and Latin 
archaeology, however, it has resulted that the Phoenicians 
have at times been credited with the erection of Roman or 
Norman structures. 

Returning however to the earlier times, a few words may be 
added as to Cypriote tombs and metal work, and concerning 
some of the plates which accompany Herr Richter's volume, 
and which number over two hundred in all. The history of 

140 Antiquities of Cyprus, 

the tombs is no doubt the same as on the mainland, and they 
may be divided into three classes — Phoenician, Greek, and 
Roman« The Phoenicians cut a square chamber in the rock, 
and placed the bodies in kohim^ or tunnels large enough to 
hold one body, which ran in from the chamber side by side^ 
the corpse being placed with its head at the further end, and 
its feet towards the chamber. The koha was closed by a slab,^ 
and each chamber held from six to twelve bodies. This kind 
of tomb, used wherever the Phoenicians dwelt — in Malta, at 
Carthage, and elsewhere — continued in use in Palestine almost 
to the Christian era, but was gradually superseded by the 
Greek tomb, which held three bodies, each in a rock-cut 
sarcophagus at the side of the chamber, under an arcosolium or 
arched recesa The facades of the finer tombs of this class 
were ornamented with porches and rock-cut pillars, or with 
pediments carved on the face of the rocL The interment 
of pottery statuettes — the penates or terapbim of the family — 
appears to have been common to both classes; and tear 
bottles, and vases for unguents, are found in both, sometimes 
with more valuable remains of property. The Roman tomb 
was often structinral and above ground, or was sometimes only 
a grave sunk in the rock, with a heavy covering stone like 
the roof of a house. The structural tombs or towers — such as 
are found in Palestine, especially beyond Jordan — were family 
vaults, in which the stone coffins or sarcophagi were placed in 
rows — sometimes in two tiers — as members of a wealthy family 
died ; and these sarcophagi were sometimes well carved. In 
Phoenicia and Cyprus pottery sarcophagi were often used, 
sometimes with a recumbent figure on the lid ; but the most 
beautiful examples of sarcophagi known are those from Sidon, 
which belong to about the age of Alexander the Great. These 
came from a rock-cut chamber at the bottom of a shaft, sunk 
from the flat surface of the rock — an arrangement in which 
the Phoenicians may have copied the Egyptians. Considering 
that none of these tombs as a rule are inscribed, the distinction 
of the above classes is of archaeological importance. The 
Greek tomb continued to be used by the Byzantine Greeks to 
a very late period, and at Jerusalem the inscribed tomb of the 

Antiquities of Cyprus. 141 

PriQcess Thecla Augusta is of this class, and belongs to the 
9th century A«D. The tombs of the Franks, though rock-cut, 
are quite different in arrangement, and often contain leaden 

A fine structural tomb, which appears to be possibly of the 
late Greek period, was opened by Cesnola at Amathus, and 
«eems to have been covered with earth after it was built. 
There was in one chamber an elaborately carved sarcophagus, 
representing a procession of chariots, but the figures are badly 
drawn, and the style suggests that it may be Greek work 
carved in Roman timea There can be no valid reason for assign- 
ing such a monument to the Phoenicians, who, like the J ews, 
were remarkable for the plainness of their sepulchres, until 
they came under Greek influence. A plan of a true Phoenician 
tomb in Cyprus has been given by Mr. Munro of the Cyprus 
Exploration Fund. * 

It is regrettable that much of the greatest interest had been 
stolen from such tombs before the English occupation ; and 
Herr Richter says the two silver paterae in the Louvre, from 
Dali, belonged to a set of twelve, of which ten were melted 
down by the natives. One of those preserved f is 7^ inches in 
diameter, and semi-Egyptian in the character of its figures, 
which represent a king conquering his euemies in the centre, 
and combats of heroes with lions and winged griffins on the 
outer circle. The other is yet more beautiful, and is nearly 
10 inches acrosa The designs represent deities conquering 
monsters, and the conventional sacred Assyrian tree, with a 
semi-Egyptian procession of horsemen, following a king in his 
chariot to the chase. 

Another patera from Amathus is now in the New York 
museum, and the character of its art is the same, recalling the 
Egyptian on the one side and the Babylonian on the other. 
The siege of a city by horsemen and bowmen, the scaUng 
ladder raised to the wall, the cutting down of palms and fruit 
trees round the town, are the subjects of the outer circle ; and 

* Jowmdl of Hellenic Studies, April 1890, p. 30. 

t See Perrot and Chipiez Hist of Art in Phoenicia, II., pp. 349, 353. 


142 Antiqvities of Cyprus, 

within are figures of winged deities, the sacred tree, and 
scarabaBUS (which was used as an emblem in Babylon as well 
as in Egypt), while the youthful Horus is clearly to be dis- 
tinguished, and the Egyptian emblem of the feather. Yet a 
fourth cup from Kurion, in the same museum with the last, 
repeats some of the details of the Dali patera, but is more 
Babylonian in style. That these small bowls represent all the 
peculiar features of Phoenician art is generally recognised. 
The native Cypriote style is represented by a glazed pottery 
bowl from Dali, * picturing females approaching a king or 
deity, with harp and timbrel, in which the drawing of the 
figures is ludicrous. To these various interesting finds, Herr 
Eichter has added that of a silver girdle, of plaques on which 
griffins alternate with figures slaying wild beasts, and with a 
fringe of little bells. This also appears to be Phoenician, but 
probably the best work was imported from Syria, and not 
made in Cyprus. Sidon was famous for its paterae at the time 
when the Homeric poems were composed. 

The temples of Greece were crowded with votive statues 
in the time of Pausanias, many of which were then (about 174 
A.D.) quite recent, including that of Nero ; and indeed in 
Cyprus itself the great period for statue erection seems to have 
been the Roman age. Some of the statues belong to the de- 
based style of the Roman Empire — as shewn especially in the 
treatment of the hair — and it is possible that others have been 
ascribed to too early an age, while few, if any, can be con- 
sidered Phoenician. The Semitic peoples preferred the alto 
relievo to the detached statue, as is shewn abundantly on the 
mainland. Several of the statues found at Voni in Cyprus axe 
clearly of the Roman period. 

The Cyprus Exploration Fund has added materially to the 
number of Cypriote texts, but Herr Richter only gives us one 
(Plate xlii), namely, the votive tablet accompanying the torso 
of GiUika or Kilika. He also figures the glass covers from a 
Roman tomb at Kurion, hand painted (Plate Ixv.), and a 
painted statuette from Achna, with red and blue markings on 

* Perrot and Chipiez, Hist, of Art in Phcenicia, II., p. 270. 

HeligionSy Metaphysic and Religion, 145 

the yellow clay (Plate Ixviii.) with a colossal head from Lim- 
niti (Plate xliv.) found by himself, of which the hair is coloured 
black. The best piece of art is a fragment of a Greek vase in 
red (described by Mr. A. Murray), with remains of gilding and 
red figures on a black ground. The masks with holes for sus- 
pension are also interesting. 

The main difficulties in Cyprus exploration arise from want 
of money and from the spoliations of the Romans — Cato 
realised some £1,600,000 by the sale of the treasure of the 
island kings — but, on the other hand, the ancient paganism 
survived longer, on an island full of rough mountains, than in 
more civilised lands; and the character of the Phoenician 
civilisation, and the origin of their alphabet, have been mainly 
elucidated by discoveries in Cyprus. 


Art. Vm.— religions, METAPHYSIC AND 


7 he Evolution of Religion. The Gifford Lectures, delivered 
before the University of St. Andrews in Sessions 1890-91 
and 1891-92. By Edward Caird, LL.D., D.C.L., Pro- 
fessor of Moral Philosophy in the University of Glasgow. 
2 vols. Glasgow : 1893. 

IT must be admitted that, although some eight series of Gifford 
. Lectures have now been given to the public, the Foundation 
has, on the whole, failed to produce anything of highest interest 
or likely to be of considerable influence. But here, at length, is 
an authoritative statement from the recognized leader of a special 
school. Not only is it in itself a powerful presentation of the 
idealist position, it is also sure to take rank as a definitive text- 
book with many teachers and students of philosophy and theo- 
logy. It furnishes, too, probably the best popular account of the 
attitude adopted towards certain fundamental problems by Mr. 
Caird and his disciples. Further, for clearness, for courageous 


144 Religionsy Metaphysic and Religion. 

adhesion to the consequences following from the first principles 
adopted, for felicity and wealth of illustration, and perhaps most 
conspicuously, for subtilty in applying crystallising categories to 
divergent phenomena, the work is unrivalled among recent con- 
tributions to the English literature of speculative theology. On 
these grounds it challenges criticism — consciously we think — ^and 
invites wery careful attention. If absolute idealism be able to 
furnish forth the least objectionable working account of the uni- 
verse, as its adherents claim, then in the sphere of religion pre- 
eminently its success must be vindicated or its failure discerned. 

There is a comparatively cheap and easy way of dismissing 
Mr. Caird, which, at the outset, ought to be distinctly repudiated. 
It is not hard to place a label, marked ' Hegelian,' on him, to 
declare that Hegelianism is pantheism, and thus to end the whole 
matter. To recommend the human mind to throw his ^ three 
foot rule to the moles and to the bats ' may be apt, but it is with 
an aptness fair neither to criticised nor to critic, for the one 
ought to be taken on his own terms, the other, if earnest, at no 
less. The latter is bound to court a direct issue on the subject 
put forward, and may rejoice that, in this case^ so clear a field is 
provided for it. What, then, of the former? 

Kegarding HegeK Professor Caird has expressed himself with 
a decision that it is impossible to overlook. The time for dis- 
oipleship is past. * If by adherence to Hegel be meant that kind 
of discipleship which is content to be labelled with the name 
Hegelian as a complete indication of all its ideas and tendencies, 
wo might state the fact still more broadly. For there are few, 
if any, in any country, who could now take up the same position 
towards Hegel which was accepted by his immediate disciples.'* 
Onr author has not been untrue to his avowaL Perhaps we 
might say that ho is more Hegelian than Hegel^ and, in any case, 
the Ciifforvl Lectures are in no sense a reproduction of Die PhUa- 

Absonoo of the t^xjnstruction of dogma constitutes the 
principal difForonco between Mr. Caird's work and Hegel's. The 
historical mothoil has accomplished many things in the interval, 

• fZoj^/, p. 223. 

Religions^ Metaphysic and Religioru 145 

and Mr. Caird, especially in his chapters on the Jewish and 
Christian religions, has not been slow to take advantage of the 
newer results. He makes no explicit attempt to construct a pre- 
cise parallel between philosophy and religion, he does not * inter- 
pret * cardinal tenets of the faith — there is nothing, for instance, 
to place alongside Hegel's presentation of the doctrine of the 
Trinity. The aim, on the contrary, is to trace a general law or 
principle, peculiar to human self-consciousness, throughout the 
entire course of religious history, and to find in this very history 
a development wherein the religious life of the race takes the 
shape which that of the individual, attaching due regard to his 
rational nature, might he expected to assume. 

The major part of the first volume consists mainly of intro- 
ductory matter. Here two distinct lines, a positive and a nega- 
tive, are pursued, but in both doctrines commonly associated with 
the Hegelian system are explained or defended. Religion, as 
such, is considered, and the discussion is coupled with certain 
conclusions respecting the kind of * science ' best fitted to assort 
religious phenomena. The chief end of the science of religion 
is to bring back difference to unity, and a speculative evolution 
may be said to furnish at once its method and direction. * The 
idea of an absolute unity, which transcends all the oppositions of 
finitude, and especially the last opposition, which includes all 
others — the opposition of subject and object — is the ultimate pre- 
supposition of our consciousness. Hence we cannot understand 
the real character of our rational life or appreciate the full com- 
pass of its movement, unless we recognise as its necessary 
constituents or guiding ideas, not only the ideas of object and 
subject, but also the idea of God.' * Consequently, ' religions 
may differ very widely, they may be comparatively elevated or 
they may be what we would call degraded ; but they have this 
as their common characteristic (at least when they rise above the 
vaguest superstition), that they give a kind of unity to life.' t 
To discover what this unity is, and to show how it manifests 
itself in the numerous religions of the world, is the task to which 
Professor Caird addresses himself. On the one hand, by nega- 

' * Vol. I., pp. 67-8. 1 16., p. 81. 


14G Religions^ Mtiaphyaic and Religion. 

live criticism, he amplifies his initid propositions in polemics 
upon Professor Max Miiller and Mr. Herbert Spencer. The 
conceptions of Deitj entertained by these thinkers respectively 
do not conform to the notion of a unity presupposed in the 
difference between self and not self. They are, for this reason, 
inadequate, and the treatment of religions to which they neces- 
sarily lead is imperfect, or at all events unsatisfactory. They 
can never issue in a presentation of ' God as the first principle 
and the ultimate object of knowledge/ and so the absoluteness 
indispensable to any sufficient theory of religion never comes full 
circle with them. Mr. Caird's preliminary investigations are 
almost exclusively metaphysical, and they place him in possession 
of specific categories which he applies to the historical facts with 
amazing skill and subtilty. 

The point of departure is very plainly indicated in the Sixth 
and Seventh Lectures : — 

' We cannot say a single rational word without expressing or implying a 
principle of unity which manifests itself in and through the difference of 
self and the world ; and the utmost goal of all our knowledge^ nay, we 
may say the whole of our rational life, is to discover what is contained in 
that principle. Selfy Not-self, God — these three ideas — mark out the sphere 
within which the movement of our spirits is confined ; and all that we can 
attain by the utmost effort of our spirits is to realise a little more clearly 

what we mean by the Self, by the Not-self, and by God,** 


Further, it may be . 

* Proved that the priority of the consciousness of objects to the con- 
sciousness of self^ and of the consciousness of self to the consciousness of 
God, shows itself not in the isolation of any one of these ideas from the 
others, but rather in the way in which each of them becomes for a time 
predominant and forces the others to take on its own shape and to speak 
its own language. Hence we can distinguish three stages in the develop- 
ment of man, in which the form of his consciousness is successively deter- 
mined by the ideas of the object, the subject, and of Qod, as the principle 
of unity in both ; and each of these stages brings with it a special modifica- 
tion of the religious consciousness. ' f 

The entire field of facts is thus mapped out according to a specu- 
lative method which, in a sense, is beforehand with them in that, 

♦ Vol. L, p. 165. + !&., pp. 188-9. 


Religiona^ Metaphysic and Religion, 147 

so far as concerns the present discussion, it is established ere 
thej have received any consideration. Types of religion must 
be found corresponding' to the stages just specified, and the 
embodiment in them respectively of specialised aspects or self- 
consciousness must be distinctly proved. As man turns first to 
the not-self in the life of thought, objective religion leads the 
way in the evolutionary process. Fetichism, animism, and 
ancestor-worship are at the lower end of the scale. Then 
follows polytheism, striving, in the Vedic religion, to reach 
monotheism, and eventually, by an inevitable process, sinking 
back into the abstract unity of pantheism. This is succeeded by 
the most representative objective religion, that of Greece, in the 
treatment of which Professor Caird is at his best, perhaps 
because he is least metaphysical. The anthropomorphism which, 
particularly in Hellenism, accompanies the highest forms of 
objective religion naturally originates a transition to subjective 
considerations. Self looms larger and larger till at length man 
is left alone with his own soul, having surrendered the ' outward 
world to some power jvhich is not regarded as divine.' * The 
Lecture in which this transition and its meaning are exhibited 
(the Twelfth) is an excellent example of Professor Caird's pro- 
cedure. With wonderful insight and resource, a plan is con- 
structed, and this is immediately removed from the speculative 
to the historical sphere for the systematising of recorded pheno- 
mena. Buddhism, Stoicism, and the religion of Israel are taken 
as types, each in its own rank showing a particular aspect of 
the predominance of the idea of self. Then follow several preg- 
nant discourses on the relation of Judaism to Christianity, in 
which the passage from subjective religion to the absolute reli- 
gion is set forth. The unity between subjective and objective 
religion was implicitly present even in the lowest religions, it was 
consciously perceived and explicitly expressed only by Jesus. 
The remainder of the work concerns itself with the internal 
development of Christianity. 

With this brief account of Professor Caird's noble, broad, and 
serious thesis, and of the general manner in which it is applied, 

* Vol. I., p. 329. 

148 Religions^ Metaphysic and Religioru 

we now pass to consider the questions indicated at the outset. 
The proposed scheme is undoabtedlj pat in operation, but at 
what expense t Are the conclusions final, that is, do they dis- 
pose successfully, not of all religious phenomena — for this task 
the author repudiates * — but of those selected for investigation t 
What is to be said of the plan itself? This last point, seeing 
that it is at once more fundamental and preliminary, merits im- 
mediate attention. 

The term Nothtvendigkeit, as employed by the classical German 
idealists, may fairly be said to describe the leading characteristics 
of Mr. Caird's method. Although the word, literally translated, 
means necessity, it does imply, in the physical sense, compulsion 
from without. The reference is rather to an inner principle, 
such a law as that under which acorns develope oaks, eggs hatch 
after their sorts, and the child becomes the father of the man.f 
Self-consciousness, as we are told, is an organism, and in its 
essential unity evolves by a necessity which is also self-realisation; 
it thus comes to achieve only what was always immanent in it. 
All happenings in the sphere of the religious consciousness^ thus, 
could not have been otherwise, and their explanation implies 
constant reference to God, the unity ever present in the diflfer- 
ence between subject and object. It is to be noted that 
Mr. Caird keeps well within metaphysical limits. The question 
of the personality of God, accordingly, is not so pressing as it 
might otherwise conceivably be. We think that there is a defen- 
sible discretion shown here. The omission may be accepted as 
legitimate, if it be remembered that the result is a description of 
the ultimate unity in abstract terms which are equally applicable 
to other things, using this word in the conventional and widest 
sense. Further, language usually associated with ethical and 
personal qualities tends to be conspicuous by its absence. The 
quofltion, to put it otherwise, is not one of sin, as the discussion 
of religion might lead many to expect. It deals rather with evil 
and imperfection, matters peculiar to moral life. In the theo- 
retical circle too, the difficulty is not one of personal responsi- 
bility, but of collective ignorance. 

* Vol. I., Preface, pp. 11-12. t Cf., Vol. I., pp. 171 sq. 

■ «■' -^- * ■ 

Religions^ Metaphyaic and Religion, 149 

The religious problem consequently gives place to the philoso- 
phical. That is to say, it is not man's relation to a supreme per- 
sonal being that demands consideration, but on the contrary, 
some men's interpretation of the essential nature of the cosmo- 
logical experience of the race. The reply is to an inquiry about 
the unity of experience, and the results thus obtained are next 
employed to light up the dark places of religion. The 
tendency of the method, to put it briefly, is to evaporate 
the personal element in religious experience, and to re- 
place it by a common factor. Certainly this lends simpli- 
city to the treatment, and makes it possible to grapple 
more easily with the multitudinous facts of religious life, 
which, however, when all is said, are no more than records of 
individual trial. Indeed, when in their first freshness, and vivi- 
fying others by the magic spell lent them by their originator, 
they are so wholly personal as to be significant only because they 
bear the stamp of this or that man's Ahnung, The mere analysis 
of universal self -consciousness or of consciousness in general, to 
be plain, objectifies too much the basis proposed for a philosophy 
of religion, and consequently accords fatally inadequate considera- 
tion to the subjective side. On this scheme, allowance cannot be 
made for those dumb thousands who, though not partakers in 
' religious genius,' yet operate as an embodied conscience in their 
immediate, and often very narrow circle. 

But, more than any theoretical analysis, the immediate 
character of Mr. Oaird's method in practice demands close 
attention. The simplicity and workability of his scheme are 
correlative to its metaphysical formality. By a logical process 
he reaches universal results, and these he applies so as to 
reduce diflFerences and smooth away difiiculties. On this 
point, indeed, he is quite explicit, in referring to Mr. Herbert 
Spencer, and the terms describe his own case also. * Simplifica- 
tion is valuable only because it enables us to see our way through 
many details and complexities which have hitherto resisted all 
the efforts of our thought, but which become pliant and 
intelligible to him who has grasped the law of their variation. 
If, after we have reached such a universal or law, such a simple 
explanation of many complex phenomena, we are sometimes at 

150 Religions^ Metaphysic and Religion, 

liberty to dismiss many of the particular details from our 
memory, and to regard ourselves as possessing in the law the 
substance and kernel of them all, this is only because in the law 
we have a clue to guide us to the particulars which at any time 
it may seem necessary to verify. ... In a sense such a 
universal may be beyond knowledge ; not, however, because it is 
too vague and general for definite thought, but for the opposite 
reason, that it is inexhaustible^ * It need scarcely be said, 
however, that in working out his theory, Mr. Caird does not 
rigidly adhere to such a partial line. But, undoubtedly, an effort 
is made to keep the facts within the compass of a definite scheme, 
and this seems to produce a certain confusion. The universal, or 
presupposed unity in self-consciousness, is not kept sufficiently 
distinct from the common element which appears on analysis of 
selected instances of this self-consciousness. The former is 
strictly a priori^ the latter a posteriori ; the one is the product of 
deduction, the other of induction. Neither proves itself, yet both 
are worked together, and so they do not serve to mutual verifica- 
tion after each has been applied in the abstract. The latter, ac- 
cordingly, rapidly wanes. The head, that is, the theory, makes 
the theologian. 

These suggestions may be further emphasized by pointing to a 
tendency — due, we are convinced, to the method adopted — to 
treat the evolution of religion as if it were a logical process of de- 
velopment. Now, taking the term evolution, employed by our 
author to describe his work, certain of its implications must be 
noticed. It implies a selective synthesis which is the result 
neither of subjective energy nor of objects themselves, but of both 
combined. Within the sphere of philosophy, we take this to im- 
ply that, when a difficulty and a solution occur to the thinker, 
the latter ought to be brought to the test of objective interpreta- 
tion. The nature of the environment within which it is to be 
applied cannot fail to affect it, and to alter its first appearance — 
its aspect as it sprang brand new from the brain of its originator. 
But this procedure can hardly receive application in the case of 
a logical process inevitable in all self -consciousness, and therefore, 

* I. pp. 151-3. 

Religions y Metaphysic and Religion. 151 

not only independent, but even productive of environment. The 
tendency is, on the contrary, to view the whole movement as one 
of inner development. Self-consciousness has from the beginning 
of time certain qualities within itself. These, by its own inner 
determination, it renders explicit in religions. History is not to 
be explained as a true evolution in which a selective synthesis 
takes place in a conditioning medium, and issues in a series of 
determinate variations. Perforce it is a neuter, valuable, not for 
itself, but as illustrating a prescribed theory, and intelligible only 
when it corroborates a specified thesis. The development from 
within self-consciousness, according to the elements constituent 
of its nature, tends to obliterate the evolution according to the 
co-operating, changing, yet determining factors in living, or con- 
crete, advance. The history of religions receives too little atten- 
tion, the translation of some of its incidents into the language of 
an ^ intellectual naturalism ' claims too much. The personal ex- 
perience of a man who, at a certain period of his career, came to 
consider himself one with God, cannot induce the- same interest 
as the theory of the manner in which the widespread belief in a 
God-man inevitably arose out of the eternally fixed factors of 
self -consciousness. The real evolution in the one case pales be- 
fore the theoretical development in the other. 

While it is very far from our intention to support the thesis 
that philosophy of religion ought to be empirical, we must insist 
upon holding that the series of religious phenomena has as much 
reality and requires as careful investigation, from the empirical 
side, as any other succession of events. Philosophy of religion, 
consequently, like other forms of enquiry, is condemned to fit its 
infinity to the finite, and in this alone can it find salvation. 

In what follows, attention may be directed, for the purpose of 
illustrating difiiculties already mentioned, to (1) Primitive reli- 
gion, with special reference to what is known as Fetichism ; (2) 
Buddhism and subjeGtivity ; (3) Judaism and its treatment ; (4) 
Christianity and its interpretation. Thereafter it may be pos- 
sible to sum up a few results. 

(1.) It is no part of our present purpose to attempt any dis- 
cussion of the origins to which savage religion may be traced. 
They are, indeed, so wrapped in obscurity that the inquiry would 

152 Religions^ Metaphysic and Religion. 

be to little profit, and, moreover, Mr. Caird expressly safegaardc^ 
the point.* Nevertheless, one cannot help observing that, 
whether fetchism be the basic form of religion or not, certain 
psychological traits accompany it, as many writers allow. Comte 
held that early religion sprang from a condition of ^ pure f eti- 
chism, constantly characterised by the free and direct exercise 
of our primitive tendency to conceive all external bodies whatso- 
ever, natural or artificial, as animated by a life essentially analo- 
gous to our own, with mere differences of intensity.' t Apart 
altogether from the question of time sequence, the mental quali- 
ties here specified are undoubtedly true to fact. Savages put 
analogy in place of causality. All their inferences, alike in con- 
clusions and premisses, are guided by striking associations, by 
supposed likenesses, by fancied filiations. Their thoughts become 
objectified, and the subjective, no matter how fantastic, does 
duty for reality and especially for relations between realities. As 
against Comte, however, it is frequently urged that f etichism is 
not the initial stage of the human mind. There are those, like 
Casparit and Hellwald,'§ who maintain that the worship of objects 
was preceded by at least two other periods of superstition — those 
of the adoration of the family and of spirits. On the other hand, 
the most commonly accepted doctrine places fetichism either 
after, or at a late period in, the animistic stage. Be this as it 
may, the point we now urge is that, whether holding with Comte, 
with Caspari and Hellwald, with Spencer and Tylor, or with Fr. 
Schultze, II in respect to the relative precedence of fetichism, one 
is bound to admit certain definite psychological accompaniments 
in all cases equally. Fetich worship implies a * tendeny to conceive 
external bodies as animated by a life essentially analogous to our 
own,' or conceptions of animating souls and presiding spirits as 
efficient causes of all nature, 'or a looking at objects anthropo- 
pathically as alive, as sentient and willing.' For, in its truly 
primitive state, fetichism depends upon the savages' power of 
personification, and upon the manner in which liberty of choice 

* Cf. I., p. 218, note 2. t Philosophie Positive, Vol. V., p. 30. 

X Cf. Die Urgeschichte der Menscheit. § Cf. Cultv/rgeschichte, 

II Cf. Der Fetischismus, 

Religions y Metaphysic and Religion, 153- 

is exercised among the things personified so as to entitle some ta 
consideration or abuse. During its later, and more generally 
known stage, fetich ism is a form of belief, not in this or that 
object, but in the idea by which the worshipper is possessed that 
the stock or stone is inhabited by a spirit, or may become so 
inhabited on the pronunciation of the proper spell. Consequently, 
to discuss savage religion, even in what seems to be its most 
objective phase — fetichism — as if it were objective only in an over 
simple and perhaps partial procedure. For, plainly, what stands 
in need of analysis is, not so much the metaphysical element 
which takes form in a peculiar general relation of things to man's 
mind, but rather the psychological conceptions and their correla- 
tive states, which supply the presuppositions of such objective 
selection as is required for quasi religious purposes. Merely to 
bunch together the endless complexities of fetichism, to say 
nothing of other forms of early religion, under the common name, 
objective, is also to foreclose the psychological analysis so necessary 
to faithful appreciation of the facts. The very points which 
demand elucidation are thus decided offhand, as it were. The 
object, the thing, is reverenced, and nothing more need be said, 
save by way of illustration. But, even with most minute 
investigation, this is precisely the question on which, even yet, it 
is impossible to dogmatise. Is the fetich worshipped for its own 
sake, or as an instrument of magic ; does the negro abase himself 
before the stone, or before the spirit supposed to be dwelling 
therein ; does the African beat the stock to punish it, or to 
influence some power through it t These, and cognate problems, 
cannot be solved except by psychological investigation. For it is 
not the thing that is of importance, but the manner in which it is 
regarded. Fetichism, to wit, involves subjective elements at 
least as important as the objective, and to class it as implying the 
latter alone is not to deal fairly with it. And it may be added, — 
although we do not press this point, because it is derived from a 
late stage of fetichism, — that objects gifted with the possession 
of magical powers presuppose the inception of abstract ideas, or 
at least of what is uncommonly like them. A god, or generalised 
conception drawn from phenomena, is the only cause to which 
the efficacy of the fetich can well be attributed. Indeed, magic 

154 Religions ^ Metaphynic and Religion. 

demands the presence of a species of philosophy; and so, per- 
haps, may have originated the modem distaste for metaphysics 
in some quarters. 

The large subjective admixture in fetichism certainly favours 
the belief entertained by Mr. Max Miiller, Mr. Herbert Spencer, 
and Dr. Pfleiderer,* that this is not the earliest form of religion. 
And the doctrine is further negatively supported by the fact that 
a clear advance from this lower * objectivity' to the higher 
'objectivity' of polytheism cannot be traced. Fetichism, in 
short, is as much subjective as objective, because it is very prob- 
ably a descent from some more abstract form of faith. But, 
even if this be taken for granted, it by no means proves the 
necessary objectivity of savage religion. For, those who are fain 
to argue that fetichism is primitive, rightly base their contention 
on the condition of the mental organisation in early man. The 
extraordinary tangle of observances, superstitions, and venerated 
objects, so typical of this stage, is due to the comparative pre- 
dominance of that most subjective of psychological qualities — 
feeling. Momentary impulse is the source, and because it issues 
in immediate positive expression, it deceives by its seeming 
externality. It leans upon the sensuous, and craves for concrete 
embodiment. Yet, but for the originating sentience, there would 
be nothing. * The fetich is essentially a local god,' no doubt. 
But man must have subjectively contributed both to the deity 
and the locality ere one name or the other could have taken on 
aught of religious significance. This is well illustrated in 
Eomer's curious experience. He *once peeped in at an open 
door, and found an old negro caboceer sitting amid twenty 
thousand fetiches in his private fetich-museum, thus performing 
his devotions. The old man told him that he did not know the 
hundredth part of the use they had been to him ; his ancestors 
and he had collected them, and each had done some service. The 
visitor took up a stone about as big as a hen's egg, and its owner 
told its history. He was once going out on important business. 

* Cf. Hibhert Lectures, Max Mtiller, p. 105 ; Herbert Spencer in The 
Nineteenth Century, Vol. XVI., pp. 8-9; Fhilosophy of Religion, Pfleiderer, 
Vol. III., p. 16 fEng. Trans.) 

Religions, Metaphysic and Religion, 155 

but crossing the threshold he trod on this stone and hurt him- 
self. Ha I ha I thought he, art thou here ? So he took the stone, 
and it helped him through his undertaking for days.' * So 
subjective is this that we must put forth a constructive effort of 
imagination, equally subjective, to comprehend how the objects 
came thus to be lifted out of their mere externality. The truth 
is that primitive forms of religion are as subjective as the 
primitive morality of self-assertion. The expression of strong 
emotion — as in long sustained religious dances ; the associations 
bom of simple impressions — as that birds are to be adored because 
they raise themselves from the earth ; the sensuous need for a 
present reality, which causes feeling to thicken, as it were, into 
an actual object ; these are one and all inseparable from primi- 
tive religion, and they prove it to be as fertile on the inner as on 
the outer side. The undeveloped mind, which has few ideas 
capable of moral or religious characterisation, is, notwithstanding, 
as much a mind as one ger^linative of the highest abstractions. 
It is, accordingly, impossible simply to class its religious ten- 
dencies as objective, and so pass from them. In primitive re- 
ligion, whether it be fetichism or not, the object not merely 
'presents itself to the spirit of man/ f tut, in addition, is capable 
of presenting itself in a form to which the name religious can be 
properly applied, only because the spirit of man has first shaped 
it to subserve this end. 

(2.) When discussing Buddhism, it is of moment to avoid the 
misleading parallels with Christianity, which only too many 
modern writers have encouraged. As we shall see below, 
Christianity is pre-eminently a subjective religion, and it is easy 
to fall into the error of meting out similar treatment to Buddhism. 
In spite of a common search for salvation, a common integral 
ascetism, and certain external qualities attributed to Jesus and 
Gautama alike, the two religions are, in all essentials, most luridly 
contrasted. The person of the Christ is Christianity ; the per- 
son of Gautama recedes more and more as investigation pro- 
gresses, while his system gains ever-increasing prominence. *The 

* Primitive Culture, E. B. Tylor, Vol. II., p. 158 (Edition 1873). 
t Vol. I., p. 255.; 

156 Religions, Metaphync and Religion, 

language of Buddhism has no word for the poesj of Christian 
love.' * * The sin of self,' so fittingly celebrated in the Light of 
Asia, is of a purely intellectual matter, and has no reference to that 
self-seeking which is condemned in the Sermon on the Mount. 
Mkra and the Devil do not tempt in the same way. Gautama 
would have missed salvation had he insisted on his own person- 
ality ; Christ saved men only by the perception that His person- 
ality was indispensable. The conversion necessary in the one 
case has literally no point of contact with that desired in the 
other. The Buddha is * converted ' by an objective transforma- 
tion, by a new mental synthesis respecting the world. He be- 
comes * holy ' when he understands that bodily life contains no 
satisfaction ; he is ^ saved ' when he knows that damnation and 
safety are alike meaningless. Now this sharp contrast with 
Christianity is produced by the objective basis on which Buddhism 
rests. And, while Mr. Caird perceives, and plainly emphasizes,! 
the great gulf fixed between the two religions, in his anxiety to 
constitute Buddhism a main example of subjective religion, he 
omits to give sufficient weight to its objective starting point. 

If there be any extent to which Buddhism is subjective — it is 
also objective in exactly the same degree. The most intellectual 
of religions, it naturally finds centre within the individual mind, 
but, at the same time, the material to which mental effort is 
directed is fundamentally objective. To become a Buddha one 
must needs get enlightenment. But ere the four Noble Truths 
— of Suffering, the Cause of Suffering, the Cessation of Sorrow, 
and the Path to Rest — can be apprehended, an entire system of 
philosophy, throwing new light upon the nature of the universe, 
has to be adopted and assimilated. A metaphysical theory of the 
most abstract type — of a type, that is, which only ages of specu- 
lation had evolved from the Indian mind — is the substance of the 
religion. * Buddhism recognises no eternal Being, only an eternal 
Becoming.'t Atheism, not merely as a gratuitous assumption^ 
but as the legitimate result of a long train of meditation and 
reasoning, is the point of departure. The law of causality per- 

* Buddha, Oldenberg, p. 292. t Cf., Vol. I., p. 364. 

X Dit Religimi des Buddhas, Koppen^ p. 230. 

Religions, Metaphync and Religion. 157 

vades the entire framework of sensibly perceived being, and 
clasps it with iron grip. This, any man who sufficiently battles 
in severe contemplation, may learn for himself. Salvation comes 
by way of such knowledge, and is altogether reserved for the wise. 
But, wherein consists wisdom? Wholly in knowledge of the 
illusoriness of sensible things, in the recognition that the material 
world is transitory to its every atom. Life passes into death, and 
from corruption fresh life springs only to meet the inevitable fate 
once again. * Neither in the aerial region, nor in the depths of 
the sea, nor if thou piercest into the clefts of the mountains, wilt 
thou find any place on this earth where the hand of death will 
not reach thee. . . . Whoso looketh down upon the world, 
as though he gazed on a mere bubble or a dream, him the ruler 
Death beholdeth not.' * But, *for man, who moves in an earthly 
sphere, and has his place and finds his enjoyment in an earthly 
sphere, it will be very difficult to grasp this matter, the law of 
causality, the chain of causes and effects/ f This difficulty is the 
source of all sorrow. Could men but bring themselves to see 
that the objective world is illusory, that the senses are only 
bulwarks of ignorance, that there is no soul, and that there 
ought to be no hereafter, they would have made some pro- 
gress along the one path to deliverance. So long as they 
cannot take this view of objectivity, with its subjective conse- 
quences, they are in the bond of Karma. The desire to live, as 
a self or separate individuality, remains, and after death, the 
soul will by transmigrating reappear in fresh guise to receive the 
condemnation of suffering in a novel manner. For, each is but a 
unit in the cycle of living, till all desire of life has been 
extinguished ; and what is true of self is also true of everything 
in the universe. Every man must approve these doctrines for 
himself, and in this respect Buddhism is individualistic. The 
faithful are doomed to tread the * sacred eightfold path ' in lone- 
liness. But this path can only be discovered by a searching 
which includes study of the world as well as of self. The error 
which results in regarding Buddhism as if it were purely sub- 
jective is due to a partial view of it. Were the main doctrine to 

* Dhammafoda, V., 128, 170. t Mahdvagga, L, 6, 2. 

158 Religions f Metaphysic aiid Religion. 

the effect that thought alone is sure, Baddhism would certain! j 
be subjective. Yet its metaphysic is based on the positive 
statement that the universe is of suffering all compact. A sub- 
jective process results in this discovery, an objective fact is its 
necessary prelude and unfailing accompaniment. For the ex- 
plicit import of the theory is simply that causality alone has 
real being. When this has come to clear consciousness, the ideal 
manifests itself. And the ideal is that to which causality cannot 
be applied. Here, then, are the two sides of the Buddhist specu- 
lation, neither of which has any meaning apart from the other. 
Taking either, it is possible to term the religion objective or 
subjective, as the case may be, for each characterisation finds 
basis in the recorded facts. Mr. Caird has occupied himself too 
exclusively with the thought that Buddhism is ^ the religion of 
annihilation.' This implies assent to the interpretation of the 
heretic Yamaka. ^ At this time a monk named Yamaka had 
adopted the following heretical notion ; ^^ I understand the 
doctrine taught by the Exalted One to be this, that a monk who 
is free from sin, when his body dissolves, is subject to annihila- 
tion, that he passes away, that he does not exist beyond death." ' * 
Yamaka, after a dialectic encounter, departs from these conclusions. 
So far as contemplation is concerned, a connection between sub- 
jective and objective — as befits metaphysic — ^is always presupposed, 
and, when these arrive at the point of separation, knowledge, 
which is the instrument of the religion, fails. The central 
doctrine is altogether too subtle to be shut up in any one 
category. * Does the path lead into a new existence ? Does it 
lead into the Nothing? The Buddhist creed rests in delicate 
equipoise between the two.' f If it can be shown to be subjective, 
it can, with equal reason, be proved objective. For its aim is, on 
an objective basis, to get rid of what is commonly known as the 
subjective ; and on a subjective basis, to realise the inmost import 
of what is commonly called the objective, *The only God is 
what man himself may become,* the only becoming is a sourceless 
and interminable causality which, when comprehended, inculcates 
that escape from itself is the condition of godhead. 

* Sanvyatta Nikdya, VoL I., fol. de. f Buddha, Oldenberg, p. 284. 

Religions^ Metaphysic and Religion, 159^ 

The conception that Buddhism is merely 'a religion of protest,' * 
fathered by Hegel, originated in the tendency to class it as the 
subjective religion. Gautama lived and died * a good Hindu.' 
The very defects of his doctrine were occasioned by its natural 
development from the environment of Indian thought, the very 
reasons for its spread lie in its objective applications. Buddhism 
has never at any time been the only religion of its professors, 
and, at the present moment, none among the millions of its 
adherents cling to it solely. For — as the abstract specula- 
tion out of which it grew predetermined — it is so highly meta- 
physical that it affords no object of worship. So Chinese and 
Cingalese, to take extreme types, pray to their ancestors or to 
spirits. Nevertheless, Buddhism has deeply affected Asian 
society. Its failure to keep its purity intact may be traced far 
more to its supersubtle metaphysic than to its supposed extraction 
of the meaning from life. Its incalculable influence, on the 
other hand, arose from the positive and hortatory rules which it 
formulated. The Eight Precepts, the six Quarters of men's 
duties to one another, with their sixty-one special divisions, the 
* liberality, courtesy, kindliness, and unselfishness which are to 
the world what the linchpin is to the rolling chariot ' — ^these lent 
it power and spread it afar. Inasmuch as it was metaphysical 
the people found it a sealed book, and directed their aspiration 
to the gods of other faiths. Here it was destined to remain a 
protest against idolatry and all gross conceptions of deity. But, 
in the objective applications, which arose on the basis of this 
metaphysic, it became a great positive power. Regarded as a 
subjective system it almost wholly came short of religious effect. 
When viewed as an objective scheme of ethics its permanent signi- 
fication plainly appears. For, moulded by the national charac- 
teristics of those with whom it came into contact, Gautama's 
practical philanthropy, and loving pitifulness accomplished in- 
calculable good by carrying conceptions of righteous dealing 
between man and man into lands where injustice, born of old 
prescriptive right, had long held sway. Indeed, it might be said 
that his tenets had little significance as a subjective religion, 

♦ Cf. VoL L, pp. 361-2. 

160 Religions f Metaphyiic and Religion. 

much as an objective moulding force. To comprehend a law of 
a becoming, which operates in no substratum, is not given to 
every man, but no one can fail to understand the general import 
of the precept, 

' Let his livelihood be kindliness, 
ELis conduct righteousness, 
Then in the fulness of gladness. 
He will make an end of grief.' * 

(3.) Many have alleged that the treatment of Judaism is among 
the least satisfactory parts in Hegel's Religionsphilosophie. This 
thinker's passion for Hellenism did little to prepare him for full 
appreciation of the great contrasted civilization and religion. 
Despite skilful use of more recent sources, and an environment 
totally different, Mr. Caird's account of the same subject is not 
altogether free from similar defects. It abounds in pregnant 
glances, but it blinks too much the circumstances of the immense 
variations that mark the Jewish faith. No doubt, it is deduced 
from certain assumptions that possess large measure of truth. 
At a particular stage the impervious selfhood of Yahveh was 
certainly maintained, and so subjectivity in religion predominated. 
But the crucial statement in Deuteronomy, for example, is only 
one aspect of the whole truth. * Know therefore this day, and 
consider it in thine heart, that the Lord (Yahveh) he is God in 
the heaven above, and upon the earth beneath ; there is none 
else.' t So far as we now know, Israel's faith, as Renan rightly 
insists, always differed from that of related tribes, and it passed, 
as Kuenen and others have shown, into a highly developed type 
of monotheism. Yet, it must never be forgotten that there was 
a primitive ' monolatry,' {and that * ethical monotheism ' did not 
end Jewish religious progress. This monotheism itself, moreover, 
is * religious,' not * metaphysical.' § The religion of Israel, in 
other words, can be taken as the highest type of subjective 
religion only if a series of tacit assumptions be admitted without 
dispute. These may be stated as follows. Yahveh is alleged to 

* Dhammapada, v. 376. + Deuteronomy, chap, iv., 39. 

X Cf. Beitrage zur semitischen Beligionsgeschichtej Baethgen, Preface. 
§ Alttestament. Theologiey Schultz, pp. 166, sq. 

Religions^ Metaphysic and Religion. 161 

be transcendent — set apart from man and unapproachable.* He 
is the one magnificent personality, and, by comparison, the human, 
like the natural, is dwarfed into utter insignificance. This 
separation of the divine from the earthly accounts for the gloomy 
features of Judaism, and takes shape in a hopeless acquiescence, 
such as is exemplified in Ecclesiastes. Its burden is, ' Know thou 
that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment.' f 
Once more, it is held that ' the Jew is God's servant, who 
labours to deserve eternal life by his conformity to the law.' Or, 
as Wellhausen has it, ' the sum of the means became the end ; 
through the Thorah God was forgotten.'} Legalism erected a 
barrier between Yahveh and his people which never could be over- 
passed, and men either turned to pharisaism, or were thrown 
back on a self-centered mysticism. This is one of the few points 
that Mr. Caird has in common with so-called evangelicals, and it 
arises from the acceptation by both of St. Paul's interpretation of 
the later Jewish religion — a view coloured by all the passion of a 
pervert. If these assumptions and their implications be true, 
then Judaism may fairly be taken as the eminent type of 
subjective religion. Its circumstances, must, however, be in- 
vestigated somewhat more closely. 

Let us agree, at the outset, to take the religion of the Jews 
only in its middle and later periods, only in its * ethical mono- 
theism,' and in its ' legalism and formalism which entangle all 
life in a network of meaningless prescriptions.' § Restricting 
the enquiry thus, and putting the matter very summarily, it may 
be affirmed, ^;"«^, that prophetic ideals are by no means so exclu- 
sively subjective as has been alleged. The yahvehistic notion of 
righteousness, as set forth by Amos, Hosea, and Isaiah, has little in 
it of that ' change of heart ' which subjectivism demands. Not 
the personal relation of the believer to his God, but the sin of a 
whole nationality, receives attention. Social defects, effete 
institutions, and the like objective considerations, hold the field. 
Even a century later, when the ethical monotheism was at its 

* Cf. Vol. I., pp. 385, sci, t Chap. xL, 9. 

t T)ie Fharisaer und die SadducUer, p. 19 (Edition, 1874). 
§ Vol. II., 120. 

XXIII. 1 1 

lt»2 Religions^ Metapliysic and Religion, 

height, the same holds true in the main. At a future time, the 
contention of the prophets seems to he, the personal element in 
religion will come to predominate. ^ In those days every one 
shall die for his own iniquity.'* And, even when the extreme 
representative of subjectivism, Jeremiah, is carefully studied, it 
is not at all certain that his introspection and consequent insis- 
tence upon the personal relation of Yahveh to his worshipper, 
give cachet to Aw utterances.f On the whole, we incline to agree 
with Stade that the most personal passages are later additions. 
But, even thus, permitting subjectivity special predominance, a 
large objective factor remains. The prophets return from self 
to the world. Yahveh is elevated beyond the reach of other 
deities because lie created the world, and because He is the 
immanent originator of all the changes in Jewish history. 
Jeremiah's long self -communing disappears in Ezekiel and the 
second Isaiah, and Yahveh is conceived as a saving power who, 
in the course of time, will lead captivity captive. And, although • 
a diffused or world-wide force of this kind, He is represented as 
very near to His people — dwelling in the temple, or hovering, like 
a bright cloud, over Jerusalem. 

Secondly^ the doctrine that Yahveh was transcendent, and 
therefore distant from his people, implies a metaphysical inter- 
pretation of the prophetic teaching which, in the absence of any 
systematised account of the nature of deity, has no warrant. 
The transcendency is attributable rather to a modern and theo- 
logical reading of a na'ive religious conception. God dwelt in 
the temple near His people, and in heaven, which was viewed 
not simply as a place but as a state or condition. JEcclesiastes 
excepted, there is no warrant for imagining that heaven was cut 
off from earth. Further, Yahveh is immanent in the universe* 
not only because He is the hourly superintendent of Jewish 
destiny, but because ' He watches over and controls the susten- 
ance and life of all plants and animals, and directs immediately 
all natural phenomena.' t The prophets had no formulated 

* Jeremiah, ch. xxxi. 29-30. 

t Cf. Geschichte des Volkes Israel, Stade, Vol. I., p. 646, note 2. 

X Jiidaism and Christianity, C. H. Toy, p. 80. 

Religions^ Metaphysic and Religion, 163 

doctrine of a God separated from nature, and the dualism which 
Mr. Caird emphasizes * is a factor which his metaphysic reflects 
into their reh'gious simplicity. It has little or no warrant in 
their books, and even admitting the evidence of Ecclesiastesy it 
must be said that Koheleth is too completely non-Jewish to bear 
the exclusive burden of so large a deduction. In fact, the 
particularism, in which he too partakes, contradicts the doctrine 
of transcendence. The Jews did not trouble about metaphysi- 
cal constructions, but simply satisfied themselves that Yahveh 
had specially charged Himself with their care. There was no 
need to elaborate a theory of his relation to them or to the world, 
the truth of his nearness had been so plainly revealed. The God 
who loves them that live in the fear — that is, the conscious 
acknowledgment — of His law is more prominent than the God 
who slays idolators or chastises the unrighteous in Israel. 

Thirdly, taking the post-exilic religion, not in one alone of 
its many and most perplexing aspects, but, as a whole, it may 
be affirmed that the Jews adopted the Law as a special privi- 
lege which endowed them with an ideal of the good life 
directly revealed by Yahveh. This was the mediator between 
God and man. ' Beloved are Israel,' as rabbinical literature 
has it, ' for unto them was given the law.' For, as has been 
admirably said, ' Without ignoring the dangerous particularism 
of the Jewish mediation, we must not be blind to its spintual 
effects within the borders of the community. In the pictorial 
language of the Midrash, before the law was given, heaven 
and earth were still separate and apart ; but at the season of 
its bestowal, Moses went up to heaven, and God came down 
upon earth.' t It was only with the law that Yahvehism be- 
came a people's religion ; and anyone who cares to study the 
nature of the Jew's relation to the torah will readily under- 
stand why, to this good hour, he remains personally near to 
Deity, and has for weary centuries been willing to endure any 
evil rather than part with God's peculiar gift which, as a 
theory would have it, did nothing but bring the twin curses of 
canting hypocrisy and paralysing doubt. 

* Cf. Vol. II., pp. 61 sq. t Hibhert Lectwies, Montefiore, p. 640. 

It 14 Relujiontt^ .}fftaphysic and Religion. 

(\,) (yoiisideralioii of tiie treatment accorded to Chria- 
tiaiiity naturally falls into two parta The first concerns the 
nature of the Christian religion and St. Paul's estimate of its 
import. The historical evohition of life and doctrine in the 
(Christian comni'initirK couHtitutos the second. Although 
similar views mark Mr. Caird's account of both subjects, they 
t'-ul to different results in each case, so that separate notice is 

Whatever may be said of tlie doctrines ultimately worked 
up into Christian theolop^y in the long course of its develop- 
ment, there can hardly be a doubt that at its source, Chris- 
tianity was purely Jewish. Little abstract thinking, and no 
learning were at its birth, but rather an overmastering sense 
of man's relation to Deity. The God of the Jews was alone 
capable of furnishing the divine nature which could constitute 
one of the factoi-s in this spiritual communion. Christianity 
grows directly out of Jiidaism in that it supplies a systematic 
a(rcount of God's indwelh'ng in man. The older religions had 
here rested satisfied with a series of naive suggestions — naive 
in that no attempt was made to see that they tallied with one 
another. As we have tried to observe, the Jews did not set 
God afar off. But no effort was put forth to show precisely 
why *the prayer of the humble pierces the clouds/ why, that 
is, a specific attitude of the human spirit implies a response 
in the divine nature which results in inter-communion. 
Christianity was a further contribution to the explicit state- 
ment of the subjective elen)ent which is the very nerve of all 
religion. It is the subjective reliji^ion, not Buddhism, or 
Stoicism, or Judaism. For, here pre-eminently, both in the 
Person of its Founder, and in the cliaracter of the belief which 
He requires from his professors, the inner, or personal, process 
inseparable from highest religious aspiration stands at length 
completely revealed. It may very well be that Christianity is 
the * absolute' religion. No further exemphfication of the 
essentials of the religious state is necessary ; humanly speaking, 
no other may be possible. But, with respect to the individual 
who is, after all, the centre of spiritualised life, it is as 
truly the most subjective of religions ; for in its most specific 


Religion s^i Metaphysic and Religion. 165 

quality it consists of a personally realised relation between the 
worshipper and God, a relation rendered possible by Christ. 
To term it the 'absolute' religion, in a metaphysical sense, is 
at once to desublimate it into a philosophy, and to try to 
reduce the endless differences of its revivifying power in each 
separate case to a simple, or abstractly logical, expression ; 
and this leads to a definite method of interpreting it, which is 
not only inadequate to the historical facts, but tends also to 
obscure the very essence of the religion itself. 

Viewed as a whole, the presentation of Christ's mission, and 
the conceptions of His person and position, are governed by 
an all-pervading tendenz* That is to say, the relations in which 
Christianity is expected to stand to other stages in the de- 
velopment of religion are preconceived, and the occurrences 
adduced, like the individuals portrayed, are skilfully found to 
arrange themselves as had been anticipated. ' It is a law of 
human history that principles and tendencies which are really 
universal, should at first make their appearance in an indi- 
vidual form, as if bound up with the passing existence of a 
particular nation or even of a single man. ... It is only 
the greatest of all instances of this law of development which 
we see in the early history of Christianity. . . . Thus the 
way in which, in the thought of the disciples, the ordinary 
limitations of finitude and humanity — of that in the finite 
world and in man which separates them from God — gradually 
drop away from the image of Christ, has in it something which, 
though unexampled in degree, yet agrees in kind with the 
ordinary process by which the ideal reveals itself in and 
through the real.'t The process of the Absolute, metaphy- 
sically conceived, is read into history, and history is unfolded 
as the exhibition of this process, in which there are endless 
differences in degree but none in kind. Once clearly formu- 
lated, the movement cannot be conceived as energising other- 
wise, but the persons incident to it might quite well be 
replaced, seeing that degrees of manifestation are not tied 

* There are exceptions in the course of the argument, e.g,, Vol. 11. , pp. 
88-9, 138-9. 

tVol. II., pp. 220,228-9. 

166 Religions^ Metaph^sic and Religion. 

clown to their authors as are absolute divergencies in kind. 
Christ is admitted to have been unique in His work, * no such 
admission can be entertained with respect to His person ; for a 
theory which construes the evolution of religiqn as a develop- 
ing series of conceptions — of and from God — cannot possibly 
permit any divergences in kind within its progress. If it did, 
the process would inevitably break down. Something for 
which it could not account would be wedged in between its 
two halves. Accordingly, unavoidable tendencies shape the 
construction of Christ and Christianity. The person becomes 
less and less, the speculative Idea of his achievement more and 
more. The systematised statement of the manner in which an 
individual caused his career to epitomise *the eternal circulation 
of the di\'ine life ' replaces the absolute significance of the vehicle 
of this revelation. As Shakespeare or Goethe stand to poetry, 
as Beethoven or Mozart to music, as Caesar or Cromwell to 
war and government, as Raphael and Michael-Angelo to 
painting and sculpture, so Jesus stands to religion. He is 
first, not perhaps among His peers, but certainly among His 
compeers.! The single life is in every case an instance of a 
universal principle. Given a particular Weltanschauung^ and 
the interpretation offered by Mr. Caird follows. We have to 
remember that it is no more than an interpretation, and that it 
is no part of the religious man's spiritual * business philosophi- 
cally to arrange matters between the Christian-theistic Welt- 
anschauung on the one side, and the deistic, or pantheistic, or 
materialistic, on the other, which latter have first to fight out 
their mortal conflict with one another.'J In contradistinction, 
it may be submitted that Christianity does not start from an 
analytic of self-consciousness as revealed in man, but from a 
certain historical fact — the Person of Christ. It embodies, not 
merely a philosophic scheme dealing with rationality, but rathe 
a kind of spiritual presence never before exemplified and never 
repeated since. Its marvel does not lie so much in the whole 

*Cf., e.(/., Vol. II., p. 151. 

t Cf., Vol. II., pp. 220, sq. It is difficult, however, to reconcile this 
with the admissions made in Vol. II., p. 135. 
J Leben Jesu, Beyschlag, I., p. 10. 


Religions^ Metapliysic and Religion, 167 

evolution of which it is a part, as in the circumstance that it 
put an end to one developing series and initiated another 
which still goes on. This it accomplished through a peculiar 
personality in whom alone the saving power of Deity was made 
known. Christ is far more than an episode in the life-history 
of a race in which the divine nature has been always manifest- 
ing itself from less to greater fulness. He is the sole mediator 
between God and man, in the sense that only by seeking to 
find salvation from sin through Him can men ever hope to ex- 
perience that inner oneness with God wherein religion is con- 
summated. The leading problem for any systematic explanation 
of Christianity lies here. Philosophy of religion must attempt 
to show that ' for the Christian of the present the historical 
appearance of Jesus can become accessible as something un- 
doubtedly certain and intelligible as God's revelation/ and 
that Christianity really ' arises in us when the good, as a power 
of judging and yet rescuing us, becomes through Jesus Christ 
a fact in our lives.'* The divinity of Christ, as thus construed, 
is inseparable from His religion, because it is the conclusion at 
which men necessarily arrive, if they realise that God alone 
could have conformed to God as He did. Christianity is, thus, 
the distinctively subjective religion. For, it implies an inward 
change, dependent, however, upon appreciation of the same 
change as actually personalised once, and upon the spiritual 
perception that such transformation, ending, as it did, in unity 
with God, could have been wrought out by God alone. 
According to Christianity, men become fellow- workers with 
God — they must find the disposition. He has guaranteed in 
Christ what the results will be. Not an inherited self-con- 
sciousness, but an inner experience that Christ has, and can 
transmit, saving grace, constitutes the core of Christianity, and 
firmly establishes its universal nature. In his own work-a-day 
life, each must prove for himself, reproduce in his own char- 
acter, what the disciples testify of Christ. Only then will he 
conform to the faith in a personal redeemer without which 
Christianity has no more than a doubtful logical superiority 

Cf. Ber Verkehr des Christen mit Gott, Hermann, passim. 

168 Religions, Metaphysic and Religion, 

over other religions. Indeed, the historical facts, which have 
withstood all the fire of modem New Testament criticism, 
admit of no other conclusion. The continued life of Christ in 
the sweet experience of His people is not accounted for on the 
speculative method ; and the method can only be applied by 
eviscerating the recorded incarnation, atonement, and resur- 
rection of all except an abstract significance. 

The emphasis laid upon St. Paul's contribution to the 
progress of Christianity, and the deductions which it is 
necesssary to make from his doctrine, go far to corroborate 
what has been already said. The tendency to minimise the 
personal element, to be * careful of the type,* and ' careless of 
the single life/ is here accentuated. ' For St. Paul, what we 
may in a narrower sense call the personal element of the 
gospel history disappeared altogether ; and Jesus was simply 
the Christ, the living embodiment of the Messianic idea, which 
at once disappointed the old Messianic expectations of the 
Jews, and gave them a higher fulfilment.'* This is so 
extreme as to remind one of Von Hartmann*s extraordinary 
construction of the New Testament history, in which Jesus 
appears as the originator of das Judenchristenthum, and St. 
Paul as the founder of Christianity.f A comparison of the two 
tendenz interpretations is interesting as illustrating how history 
can be led to speak as the historian desires. While, in fair- 
ness, it must be pointed out that Mr. Caird's reading is far 
richer than Von Hartmann's, the significant truth remains that 
he lays stress upon the indispensableness of St. Paul, and 
enforces certain aspects of Pauline teaching for special 
purposes. It is the St. Paul of the Areopagus, — ' in him w© 
live, and move, and have our being,' — and the St. Paul of the 
eighth chapter of Romans, — ' the earnest expectation of the 
creature waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God,' — 
whom Mr. Caird enhances.t St. Paul, when he insists on the 
atonement, is not so significant. " The simple intuition of 

* Vol. II., p. 198. 

f To which Mr. Caird himself refers. Vol. II., p. 132. Cf. Das religiose 
Bewusstsein der Mencsheit^ Ss. 514-32, and 546 sq, 
X Cf. Vol. II., p. 213. 

Religions J Metaphysic and Religion, IG? 

Jesus, that ' he who would save his life must lose it,' was 
reinterpreted, as the great moral law of the life of man. . . . 
The idea that the spiritual life directly involves death to self 
. . . which was the * open secret ' of Jesus, is somewhat 
obscured in St. Paul ; for to him the result appears to come, 
not by a process of development like that in which the death 
of the seed leads to the life of the plant, but by an external 
arrangement/ * St. Paul, when he preaches the uniqueness of 
Christ, is found to hinder Christianity rather than further its 
advance. 'In St. PauPs teaching there begins a kind of 
separation of Christ from humanity and a kind of identification 
of him with God, which is practically a return to the Jewish 
opposition of God and man. . . . He regards Christ's life 
in the flesh as an episode between a life in glory before his 
birth and a life in glory after his death, and thus takes him 
out of all the ordinary conditions of humanity. In this way 
he seems to deny that union between the divine and the human 
which was the essential lesson of the gospel of Jesus.' t Now^ 
as concerns history, is it not exactly in these two tendencies 
that the value of St. Paul's view of Christianity lies ? He won 
his place as the greatest religious genius of Christendom just 
because he realised so completely the personal contribution of 
Christ to his religion, and perceived that His salvation was free^ 
by appreciation of His services engendering faith, to Jew and 
Gentile alike. He sums up the ' absoluteness' of Christianity 
when he says, * Though there be that are called gods, whether 
in heaven or in earth, (as there be gods many, and lords many) 
but to us there is but one God, the Father, of whom are all 
things, and we in him ; and one Lord Jesus Christ, by whom 
are all things, and we by him.' if God remains the universal, 
as Mr. Caird contends, but Christ is recognised as ' the one and 
universal medium and actua Using cause,' which Mr. Caird is 
precluded by his method from admitting. Relying on the 
genuine Epistles, § was it not St. Paul's distinctive oflSce to 

* Vol. II., p. 200. t Vol. II., pp. 213-14. 

X I. Corinthians, ch. viii., 5-6. 

§ Cf. Romans, chs. ix., 5, x., 12-13, xiv., 6-9. Fhilippians, chs. i., 21, 
ii., 11. I. CorinthianSf chs. i., 9, ii., 16, xii., 3. 

170 Religionsy Metaphynic and Religion. 

have discovered, not, as we have been told, the idea of 
Messiahship in Christ, but on the contrary, the necessary impli- 
cation of divinity in the fact of fulfilment of the Messianic 
office ? The office has become so united with the Person that 
St. Paul's lasting merit is to have perceived all that Jesus;' 
life involved — that He, and He only, was the Christ, the 
Divine Son sent to incarnate, and the sole incarnation of, the 
kind of life that He lived. The Sonship, as read by St. Paul, 
is an actual cause destined to be exclusively devoted to a 
peculiar function. 

Secondly, in this connection, the historical construction of 
Christianity proceeds almost wholly on the lines familiarised 
by the Tubingen school. St. Paul is the starting point, and 
his antagonism to the Judaising Christians forms the type of a 
series of collisions that constitute the motive force in the after 
development of the religion. All these dialectical movements, 
which are partly objective in character, presuppose an inner 
division in Christian theory itself. Now the pantheistic ele- 
ment predominates, again the monotheistic, and by the con- 
stant interaction between the two advance is conditioned. 
There can be little doubt that Mr. Caird has permitted his 
view to be too exclusively coloured by the theological deduc- 
tions of such writers as F. C. Baur and Biedermann. While 
the former forced New Testament criticism to become scientific, 
he employed methods which are quite opposed to sound his- 
torical research.* For the self-revelation of an immanent 
idea was to his mind the essence of history. Organism was 
investigated to the exclusion of environment ; external condi- 
tions were minimised in an anxiety to prove that a preconceived 
metaphysical principle can be applied to remove every cnu?. This 
procedure may serve to throw a certain light upon some large 
aspects of the development of Christianity, it cannot follow out 
the course of the evolution with sufficiently minute persistence. 
The struggle between Christianity and Rabbinical scholasticism ; 
its conflict with neo-Platonism ; the division between the Church 
and the world of the Middle Ages; the opposed objectivity of 

* Cf. Ritschl in Jahrbfur deuts, TheoL, vol. vi., pp. 429, sq. 

•:v»T«-.- ■ 

Religions^ Metaphyaic and Religion. 171 

Catholicism and subjectivity of the Reformers ; the contrasted 
Hellenism of Erastians and Hebraism of Calvinists ; — all are 
undoubtedly aspects of the progress of a civilisation into which 
Christianity has entered. But to allege that they represent 
the evolution of Christianity itself is to disregard many other 
occurrences which can claim at least equal consideration. It 
is also to forget that the evolution of Christianity consists in 
the long viscissitudes through which Christ Himself has gonis 
in relation to persons who revere Him. For its advance can 
never be exhibited with historical accuracy if it be viewed 
simply as the logical movement of ' the Christian idea.' Its 
manifoldness, which eludes all categorising, is due to its in- 
most nature as an objective record of the subjective attempts 
that men have been making in all the ages of our era to 
realise, each for himself, what the revelation of God in Christ 
implies. The importance of Christianity lies, that is, in the 
office performed by Christ for every individual apart, rather 
than in an elaborated conception of a principle which 
expresses itself in Him * as being the first to break through 
the Jewish division between the divine and the human, yet 
without falling into the gulf of an abstract pantheism, or losing 
any of that moral idealism in which the purifying power of 
monotheism lay.' * Christ, the Person, is only to be grasped 
by religious means, and the history of Christianity is no more 
and no less than the practical illustration of the operation of 
these means in myriad lives, and under the most divergent 
circumstances. Throughout it is mainly subjective, because 
the ' absoluteness ' of Christianity consists in the experience 
of unity with Jesus, and through Him, with God. t And as 
each personality is a separate universe, so his sense of salva- 
tion is unique, be the philosophical explanation of God's 
immanence what it may. % 

Finally, Mr. Caird has proved that philosophy of religion 
must have a standpoint peculiar to itself. Its business is in- 
terpretation. He has shown that, in pursuing its task of 

* Vol. II., p. 234. t Vol. Cf. contra, II., p. 267. 

X Cf. Vol. II., p. 67. 

172 Relitjions^ MeUipliysic and Religion. 

transmutation, philosophy more and more finds it necessaiy to 
adopt the principle of evolution. Indeed, one main interest 
of the Gifford Lectures centres in their insistence upon the 
evolutionary position. The new principle cannot be neglected^ 
and moreover, it is introduced as standing in close connection 
with the nature of ultimate reality. Our divergence from 
Professor Caird is not at all on this question. But when the 
suite of reh'gions is displayed as no more than a development 
of the elements in man's self-consciousness, and when religion 
itself is assumed to depend on, if not to consist in, an apprecia- 
tive analysis ot the necessity for a principle of unity in 
difilerence, we cannot help pausing. The method applied 
appeara far too subjective, and lacks elements which empirical 
research supplies. There is a certain emptiness in its consti- 
tution which application to historical phenomena does not fill 
up. It is too easily satisfied ; the intentions, in which mere 
statement of it abounds,* achieve somewhat facile accomplish- 
ment. And this results from predominating attention to the 
inner principle of development, at the expense of the outer 
factors, in which it is slowly and with much retardation being 
wrought out. Antitheses, simply because they are antitheses, 
have no power of origination, and the elementary conflict 
between self and not-self is hardly a key to all problems 
that arise down in the details of religious progress. No doubt, 
the prevalent tendency of such a method is a derivative from 
Greek philosophy ; and as modern religious doctrine is filled 
with Greek factors, a surprising harmony has been uncon- 
sciously pre-established. But this goes only a little way, and 
occasionally becomes even misleading. The metaphysical 
method readily finds its kin ; but it passes by the unfamiliar or 
mistakes it for a friend. The conception of God, for example, 
as the unity ot self and not-self, is lost too completely in 
abstract logical relations to be adequate to an explanation of 
religious life or fervour. For, the one is in essence theoretical, 
the other practical. The former, that is, can rationalise the 
latter only by minimising important constituents. This, indeed, 

Cf. Vol. I., Lectures II., III., VI., and VII. 

Religions^ Metapliysic and Religion. 173 

is the central cause of our diflFerence from Mr. Caird. His plan 
is divorced from historical evolution, and may be applied to 
develope doctrines which are framed in accordance with a 
preconceived idea and by aid of unfettered choice in the 
flelection of materials. His own admissions have been stated 
with his usual honesty, and, as we have tried to show, are fatal. 
* In clever hands that are not checked by a sufficient conscious- 
ness of the whole, the Hegelian dialectic may be made into the 
means of producing a seeming proof of anything. Nor is it 
always easy to determine how far Hegel himself was tempted, 
by an impatient consciousness of the universality of his method, 
to employ it in cases where the conditions of its successful 
application were wanting.** As a matter of fact, conscious- 
ness of the whole is preserved only by redaction of the parts. 
Here, historical evolution ceases to be the most enticing study, 
and editing recorded phenomena, according to an abstract 
process of development, acquires foothold. 

While, therefore, the general view, that there is an evolution 
of religion, cannot be controverted, the problem as to the kind of 
evolution remains still to solve. Mr. Caird's tendencv is to re- 
gard it as intellectual. The contemplation of the whole, rather 
than the inspection of the parts, predominates. And this intel- 
lectualism, together with the method peculiar to it, is as partial 
as Mysticism or Moralism. Each represents one element in re- 
ligion. To grasp the unity entire further study of the minutice^ 
as historically presented, is indispensable. Religion * can say 
nothing regarding God in himself.' It consists in an experience 
of his relation to the individual man as a spiritual personality. 
Accordingly, the aim of philosophy ought to be to examine these 
experiences in order to obtain a representation of their common 
inner meaning. To this end, it must note that God is invariably 
mirrored, not as an abstract or logical unity, but anthropopathi- 
-cally or anthropomorphically. He is ever in some sort a person. 
Man, on the other hand, is set in relation to God. He is not 
simply a being who conceives mainly of an object, or of himself. 

. * Essays on Literature and Philosophy, Vol. II., pp. 532-3. Cf. The Evolu' 
tion of Religion, Vol. U., p. 133. 

174 ReliffiouSf Metaphysic and Religion. 

or of an invisible connection between himself and an object. In 
religion he cannot but be one of the terms of a relation between 
himself and Deity. It is therefore necessary to look rather at 
the evolution than at the development of religion, to have regard 
more to the manner in which men prove themselves religious 
personalities than to the way in which ages strike an attitude be- 
fore the universe. And only full analysis of the respective con- 
tributions of feeling, intellect, and will to religion as such — to the 
efforts of men to arrive at communion with Deity — can aid com- 
prehension of the varieties of religions as necessarj' accompani- 
ments of the progressive human spirit. 

No matter how one may be at odds with the methods employed 
in it, Professor Caird's work merits, and ought to receive, amplest 
recognition. The subtlest metaphysician of the day could not 
apply himself to a subject so suggestive without producing a 
masterpiece. Throughout, there is a bewildering wealth of ap- 
posite illustration which, in the first volume,* is often witty, often 
richly humourous, while in the second,t as befits the more im- 
mediate associations of the subject, it becomes charged with deep 
intimation. The Sixth, Tenth, and Twelfth Lectures of the first 
course are, in their general treatment of their respective themes, 
unequalled in cur philosophical literature ; and the same is true 
of the Fourth, Seventh, and Ninth Lectures of the second course. 
On special points other writers may have excelled, but no one has- 
ever dealt with a similar mass of material so powerfully, skilfully, 
and reflectively. Even remembering his great book on Kant, we 
are inclined to award the palm to The Evolution of Religion. For 
here Mr. Caird has at length freed himself from the process of 
double refraction in w^hich, as many think, he had tamed too 
long. The latter work garners the ripe fruit which is 'the result 
of the reflections of many years.' J What most impresses is, per- 
haps, the happy valiancy of the treatment as a whole, and the 
warm reverence of a truly religious man, whose spiritual life has 
chastened itself in admiring contemplation of the Christian ideal 
and its Originator. To the former may be traced the fearless de- 

* Cf., e.g., pp. 138, 159, 215, 325. t Cf., e.g., pp. 242, 282, 306. 

X Vol. I., Preface, p. xi. 

Religions^ Metaphysic and Religion, 175" 

ductions on matters traditional in which the thoughts on Israel 
and Christianity abound, as well as the amazing persistence with 
which the same ideas are over and over again found underlying 
most widely divergent beliefs, and are so applied as to furnish 
forth a working explanation of them. To this, too, is due the 
superb contempt for the contingent,* the unessential, which bears 
most characteristic results in the distribution of light and shade 
upon the panorama of history, heightening the effect of one 
aspect, and toning down another as the author moves from point 
to point in his outlook. On the other hand, the unusual com- 
bination of strong feeling — none the less present, because uncon- 
sciously repressed — with metaphysical insight so operates that, 
without any suspicion of preaching, without the faintest percep- 
tion of a tone de haut en basy one cannot help rising from perusal 
of the work a better man. This note of personal conviction lends 
much additional importance. For, while The Evolution of Religion^ 
in sheer metaphysical force, must long remain the authoritative 
exposition of the idealistic view of the import of religion, it also 
embodies many traits that throw light upon the sources of the 
influence wielded by the most persuasive philosophical teacher of 
this generation. 

R. M. Wenley. 

Cf., Vol. II., pp. 235, sq. 


Art. IX.— summaries OF FOREIGN REVIEWS. 


Theologische Studien und Kritiken (No. 1, 1894.) — 
The moral idea of merit and its application to the comprehension 
of the work of Christ is the subject of Dr. Hermann Schultz's 
article, which gets the place of honour here. He first shows 
the pre-eminent position which the doctrine of rewards and 
punishments occupies in the teaching of Jesus Himself, and of 
the New Testament writers generally, the Johannine writers 
excepted. Having illustrated this point, he proceeds to show 
that in Christ's teaching the rewards and punishments are not 
represented at all as matters of legal rights, based solely on the 
quality of the acts of the individual, but as based on the 
character, good or bad, of the individual performing them. 
The acts are regarded merely as the indications of that character, 
as revelations of the state of heart of the person who has done 
them. It is really that, which according to Jesus, determines the 
divine judgments, and the rewards or punishments these involve. 
' The servant which knew his lord's will, and made not ready, 
nor did according to his will, shall be beaten with many stripes ; 
but he that knew not, and did things worthy of stripes, shall be 
beaten with few.' ' Ye also, when ye shall have done all the 
things that are commanded you, say, " We are unprofitable 
servants : we have done that which it was our duty to do." ' 
This teaching ran right in the teeth of that current in the 
popular Theology of His day, but was received and repeated by 
Paul and the other apostles, or writers of the primitive church, 
vide, Kom. vi., 23 : I. Cor. xiii., 1-3. This characteristic of the 
Christian doctrine was lost sight of by the speculative theologians 
of the Middle ages. They did not observe that while the New 
Testament speaks of rewards, it says nothing of merit. Merit 
does not enter there at all, much less the superabundance of any 
individual's merit, which can be transferred to make up for the 
defects of others. Such an idea, even as regards Christ, is 
foreign to the Gospels and Epistles. There His influence upon 
us, and the benefits accruing to us from Him, are represented as 
dynamical — as forces educed or begotten in us by Him, where- 
by we overcome the evil and grow in spiritual grace and power. 
Dr. Schultz proceeds to trace the growth of the mediaeval 
doctrine of merit from its beginnings in the writings of Barnabas, 
Hermas, and Chrysostom, and is careful to show that their, and 
even later, allusions to the Divine rewards, were not the expres- 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 177 

«ions of any fixed system of the logical beliefs, but were inspired 
merely by the desire to make more telling and effective their 
exhortations to live a life of practical godliness. It is not until 
we come to such writers as Tertullian and Cyprun that we find 
the mediaeval doctrine of rewards and punishments beginning to 
assume a distinct and definite form. Their legal training led 
them to conceive of God's relations with men as similar to those 
existing between a king and his subjects, and to regard the whole 
Divine economy and administration as moulded after the pattern 
of Roman Law. These views gave a direction to all future 
Christian speculation, and Dr. Schultz here traces that further 
evolution of the doctrine. — Dr. J. W. Rothstein furnishes a 
valuable contribution to the controversy as to the first two 
chapters of the prophecy of Habakkuk. Last year, in this same 
periodical. Professor Budde proposed a somewhat novel solution 
of the difficulties that face interpreters here. He suggested that 
the writer of the oracle had in his thought, when he spoke of the 
' wicked ' (I. 13), not the godless and tyrannical among his own 
people, who spoiled and oppressed the ' righteous,' but the 
Assyrians. He proposed to read the text of the oracle in a 
different order from that in which it now stands, and by doing 
so he thought he made the oracle perfectly clear. His order was 
as follows ;— L, 1-4, 12-17 ; H., 1-4 ; I.,' 5-11 ; II., 5-20. Dr. 
Rothstein was, it seems, independently at work on the same 
oracle, and had been expounding it to his students. He gives 
here a summary of his conclusions and the arguments on which 
they rest. The ' wicked,' according to him, are the ruling 
classes in Jerusalem. But the oracle is, in its present form, an 
exilic redaction, adapted to answer exilic circumstances and 
promote the redacter's objects. Dr. Rothstein endeavours to 
restore the oracle to its original form, and to point out the glosses 
and alterations made on it by the later hand. He regards the 
original oracle to have run in the following order : — I., 2-4 ; 12 a, 
13; II., 1-5 a; I., 6-10; 14, 15 a. — The other articles in this 
number are Die zwiefache Textiiberlieferung in der Apostelges^ 
chichfp ; Stellwig und Bedentung des alttestamentlichen Gesetzes 
im Zusammenhangder Paulinisschen Lehre^ and several short 
papers on various subjects of minor interest. 


VoPROSi Philosophii I PsYCHOLOGii (Questions, Philo- 
sophical and Psychological.) — The eighteenth number opens 
with a short paper by M. Nicolas Marin on * An Inexplicable 
Phenomenon.' This refers to the moments which intervene 
between the reception of a mortal wound and the total loss of 

XXIII. 12 

178 Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 

consciousness, in which the author supposes the moments to 
be lengthened out in apprehension to houra He quotes 
Herbert Spencer's remark in the first volume of his Psychology 
'that a comparatively monotonous state of consciousness 
appears long if it is intense, for instance, the time during which 
a severe pain is suffered ; or instance, an interval of impatient 
expectation, the seeming length of which is popularly illus- 
trated by the proverb, " the watched pot never boils."' It is^ 
moreover, noticed that in such circumstances, there is present 
to the consciousness, both fear and pain, both of which may 
co-exist in a very intense form, and thus complicate the form 
which consciousness may take for the time being. In the lack 
of observed elements for a complete decision as to the state of 
consciousness in such circumstances, the author betakes him- 
self to the novelist, and the scene in the condemned cell from 
Oliver Twisty in which he gives the experiences of Fagin. This 
appear to him to coiToborate his views. — This is followed by 
the concluding paper by M. Ivantzofi* on the problem as to the 
* Existence of an Exteraal World/ The author regards the 
generally admitted fact of the existence of ' other people ' in, 
or, as a part of the external world, as a strong point in the 
evidence going to prove its real existence ; and what is more^ 
this admission of the existence of ' other people ' in, or, as a 
part of the outward world, goes to confirm the other considera- 
tions, tending toward the proof of its existence. Nevertheless, 
it seems to the writer that, after all, the alleged grounds for 
their real existence, we have to make a sort of mental leap 
before we arrive at a full and settled conclusion on the side of 
the admitted fact. The ' other man,' whom we encounter in 
this world of shadows, seems to give us a hand, and this helps 
towards the otherwise unavoidable leap. Two kinds of veri- 
fication are possible : — The first is by way of experience and 
observation. This, however, M. Ivantzoff holds to be alto- 
gether insuflScient. The second mode of verification depends 
npon the consequences of the rejection of the actuality of an 
outward world. Kant says truly, that phenomena are to us 
merely our presentations, posseesiug only a certain objective 
signification ; their relation and order is in the same position,, 
consequently the whole of the natural sciences stand to us pre- 
cisely on the same footing. M. Ivantzoff" holds this to be sub- 
stantially true, with the remark that, in the first instance, seen 
as external, but in relation to us, the world is only as it were 
an accompaniment of our sensations and presentations, and 
nothing more ; we, as subjects of these sensations and presen- 
tations, stand outside of the phenomena, although as our own 
proper object, in its content, identical with the subject, though 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 179 

we fall also into the same general course of phenomena. 
Occupying this sceptical ground, it hence comes to pass that 
in the admission of the existence of others, beside ourselves, 
we take the first and most important step towards the recog- 
nition of the objective existence of the outward world — through 
man we believe in the external world — for such is the main 
result of my judgment. The author further remarks that there 
is some reason to believe that there is a general consent in 
this view; that the first object in which man admits real 
existence is the presence of his fellow-man, and that the child 
first comes to recognise the existence of the outward world 
through the felt presence of his nurse or mother. Hence the 
conviction of the savage man, that the world and the external 
objects of which it is composed, are living beings like himself. 
His knowledge of the world and its processes are, moreover, 
thus a reflection of his own self-development. — The article 
which follows is on the philosophy of the Chinese philosopher, 
Lao-tse. The author, M. D. Konissi, begins by referring to the 
doctrines contained in the treatise of thephilosopher Tao-te-king, 
or the treatise concerning Morality, in regard to which he con- 
siders it important to decide, first of all, the misunderstanding 
which prevails in Russian literature regarding this remarkable 
monument of Chinese philosophy, concerning which his view 
differs from that of the well-known specialist in Chinese litera- 
ture, Professor Wassilieff. The opinion of the latter is that 
the treatise above mentioned actnally proceeded from the pen 
of Lao-tse. The able Professor published in 1875 his excellent 
work, not lacking in origiuality, concerning the religions of 
China, under the general title, 'Religions of the East.' The 
judgments and conclusions set forth in this work are very 
often accurate, and apprehend the truth with acuteness on 
many points. The learned Professor expresses his opinions 
very authoritatively, and they are, in many cases, deserving 
to be regarded as authoritative. But with respect to this 
treatise and its originality, viz., the treatise ' concerning 
Morality,' he says that he is not able, to his very great 
regret, to concur with the learned Professor. Having made 
a brief investigation as to the condition of the followers of 
Lao-tse, and having made an estimate of their significance. 
Professor Wassilieff* pronounces the following judgment: — 
' All that we are able to say about the writings of Lao-tse 
(the Tao-te-king) affirmatively, is to the effect that this work 
could not have been written at the time in which it is believed 
to have been written, that is, in the 6th century B.C.. or earlier 
than Confucius. * This book,' concludes the author of the 
' Religions of the East,' — ' was written about the time when 

180 Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 

the ideas of Conrucius had already began to become influential 
nnd to gather weight, thatisnot earlier than two centuries before 
.lesus Christ This conclusion of the Professor is prov^ed by 
the two following points ot view, (1) that the philosophy of 
Lao-Tse is diametrically opposed to the moral principles of 
('oiifucius, and could not have appeared earlier than the 
system of Confucius. (2) That seeing that the philosophy of 
Lao-tse is a reflection of Buddhistic views, it could not have 
arisen before the diffnsion of Buddhism in China, which took 
place in the second century, before Jesus Christ On what 
ground does Professor Wassilief take up the first of these tw^o 
points? Confucius, born in November, 551 B.C., and died B.C. 
479, was active in the propagation and preaching of his doc- 
trines — especially in the time of the Emperor Kei-Voo, who 
ruled from 519-468 B.C. He did not quickly attain to that 
authority, which afterwards became liis; but through the teach- 
ing of Jleio-tse, who lived in the second half of the fourth 
century B.C. Through his teaching and efforts, the doctrines 
of Confucius came to possess that unshaken authority with 
which they have since been regarded in the Middle Empire. 
But this canonical authority to which Confucius attained, 
could not have been reached before the third century B.C. 
Hence it follows, according to Professor's Wassilieff*'s views, 
that the philosophy of Lao-tse, which must have been a re- 
actionary movement against the moral philosophy of Confucius, 
could not have manifested itself before the second century, 
B.C. But, before all, it must be asked, was the philosophy of 
which the Professor believes Confucius to be the originator ex- 
clusively his creation ? Certainly not I In his discourses the 
Sage often says that his doctrines did not belong to him alone, 
and that he was only the expounder of the doctrines of the 
* Blessed Emperors.' This way of putting the matter was not 
a pretext to give his doctrines more authority, but really in 
good faith. Such being the case, we have full right to con- 
clude that the moral doctrines of Confucius are not altogether 
new, and an independent creation of his own mind, but m reality 
a working up or development of the morals existing up to his 
time. If we dissect the books, See-King, Se-King and I-King, 
whose production relate undoubtedly to the times immediately 
before Confucius, that is to the first years of the Syu-Dynasty, 
we shall see, moreover, that in those books are found all the 
ideas on which Confucius subsequently preached. By saying 
so, I certainly do not wish to detract from the merits of Con- 
fucius. He completed, for his country, unquestionably a very 
great work, in summing up and confirming by his authority 
the ideals of a moral life, which had grown up through so 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 181 

many ages ; the creation of the popular mind during so many 
ages of the past. The philosophical morality, undoubtedly 
which our Professor recognises as the creation of Confucius, 
existed in the Celestial Empire long previously to this moral 
teacher. If so, it is clear, that the " Treatise concerning 
Morality " could have been written by Lao-tse in opposition to 
the traditional morality, and against the current notions, which 
were prevalent in the time of this philosopher, without having 
any relation to the doctrines of Confucius. Lao-tse thought 
that evil, tending to weaken the Middle Empire, had found a 
lodgement in the traditional morals, even in the very doctrines, 
which belonged to the times of the blessed Tsars. Therefore, 
wishing to give the people of China a purer morality, he could 
seek to uproot the evil found in the popular morality, by 
creating as he did a well thought-out and original system of 
philosophical morals. Had Lao-tse's philosophy been directed 
against the teachings of Confucius, there would have been 
something said to betray his purpose, of which, however, there 
is not the smallest indication, certainly not an expression in 
the "Treatise concerning Morality."' The learned Professor 
does not, moreover, allege any historical data going to con- 
firm his hypothesis. He does not even refer to Simatzin, the 
well-known Chinese historian, in whom we have the only 
reliable accounts of Lao-tse. This famous Chinese historian 
lived in the second half of the second, or the first half of the 
first century, B.C. As the chief of a commission for putting 
together the ancient history of his country, Simatzin, by 
command of the Emperor of his time, about 91 years B.C., 
published his distinguished work — the * Historical Narrative,' 
See-Kee, consisting of 126 books. This historian gives in the 
63rd book of his ' Historical Narrative,' biographies of Lao-tse, 
Co-tse, and Kanpitse. The latter two he places later than the 
first, who lived at a much earlier period of Chinese history. 
The two philosophers just mentioned lived in the last 
decennia of the rule of the Syu-dynasty, which would fall 
about the year 241 B.C. From the accounts of these philoso- 
phers, we conclude that Sao-tse lived at a much earlier period, 
diS'ering from the philosophers just mentioned by a period of 
four centuries. And if so, the chronological data of Professor 
Wassilieff are devoid of any foundation. M. Konissi goes on 
to point out the lack of success on the part of Professor Was- 
silieff" in dealing with these ancient Chinese philosophers. In 
his analysis of the ' Treatise concerning Mora.litv,' the learned 
professor is equally unfortunate. The so-called Buddhism of 
Lao-tse is very different from the pessimism of the Indian 
thinker. There was no Nirvana in the doctrines of Lao-tse, 

182 Sumtnaries of Foreign Reviews. 

and there was, as our author holds, no real grounds for his sup- 
posed relation to Buddhism. Lao-tse, our author holds to be 
the only Chinese philosopher, who approaches in originality to 
Confucius ; the others hved much later and were inferior in 
autht)rity to the ancient writer. There has been in later times 
a prevailing tendency to a syncretism, which jumbles up under 
the name of Lao-tseism the most heterogenous materials. The 
author concludes with a closer examination of the views of 
Loa-tse, whom he compares to Heracleitus, but his paper is to 
be continued. — To this interesting paper succeeds a lengthened 
examination ot the former and later Slavophile doctrinea — A 
paper of 50 pages royal octavo follows under the title of * An 
Analysis of Slavophilism or Slavonophilism,' the latter designa- 
tion referring more particularly to the life of the Russian 
people as affected by the theories in question, while the former 
would apply more or lees to all the Slavic nations. From the 
point of view c»f the author, Slavonophilism is considered to- 
have passed through a certain phase about half a century back, 
when it arose in the minds of certain Russian thinkers, who 
were enthusiasti<; believers in the wide-extending speculations 
of Schelling and Hegel, according to which it was sought to 
unfold the peculiarities of the Russian people, map out their 
doctrines and forecast their future. According to M. P. 
Meliokoff*, the author of the paper, these older speculations 
have to a large extent passed away. The bones of these 
German thinkers and their Russian followers have long since 
found a resting-place i:i the tomb, and their successors, if such 
they can be called, in the present generation are seeking to 
rest their theories on fresher speculations ; as to the future of 
the Russian people, the more conservative sections naming 
themselves Nationalists^ as the only word by which we can 
translate the Russian Narodnitchestvo^ while the opposite party, 
the successors of the Zapadniks or Westerlings might be desig- 
nated ' Liberals/ The new views are doubtless, a continuation 
of the old, but still they have undergone important modifica- 
tions. The Slavonophiles have broken up into two parties ; 
the one more purely national, the other looking more to the 
world-historical destinies of the Slave or Slavonic peoples. 
The article enters upon the various phases of these views and 
those opposed to them in historic succession, but we fear to 
undertake to summarize these various phrases. They are 
associated with the names of Danileffski and Leontieff, the 
views of the latter being marked by the pessimistic tendency 
so common in Russia. The well-known Russian thinker 
Wladimir SoloviefFis also associated with the two former, but 
more as thinker and critic, especially from the religious 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews, 183 

standpoint. — The article which follows upon this is entitled 
* Faith and Knowledge* being a paper read before the Moscow 
Psychological Society by M. P. Kalenoff. This subject, the 
readers of our summaries will have found to have been dealt 
with more than once, but our author thinks not satisfactorily. 
He has not been satisfied with the definition of these terms 
on the part of those who have handled them. His own 
view is that they have each independent functions of a 
psychical character, which he here seeks to bring out. He 
dwells on the appropriate logical expressions for the utter- 
ance of truth, doubt, or ignorance. The expression A is B 
does not satisfy him, while A is not A, he regards as typical 
expressions for falsehood. A is A, on the contrary, he regards 
as a full expression of the truth, and such an expression as A 
is B can only be received until, after examination, the B of 
the predicate is found to be equivalent to A, the utterance of 
positive truth. Our author then proceeds to analyse Freedom 
(z.g., of the Will), and the existence of God as doctrines belong- 
ing to Faith. These doctrines he deduces in their ethical 
relations, until he finds them embodied iu Christ as the God- 
man, who carried them out in the midst of suflering, both 
mental and bodily — the sufifering of doubt and the suffering 
of pain. — The concluding paper of the general section of the 
Voprosi is an obituary notice of P. E. Astafieff, a contributor 
to the journal from the very first, by the editor. Professor 
Grot. He was at first engaged as a teacher in the leading 
schools of Moscow, and finally became a privat-docent in 
Moscow University. This notice is followed by an estimate 
of his philosophical powers from the pen of Professor Koyloffi 
— The special part of the journal contains the usual reviews, 
controversies, and bibliography. Amongst these there is a 
lengthened paper on Piince E. Trubetskoi's previous papers 
on the world-conception of St. Augustine. 

Voprosi Philosophii i Psychologh — Questions Philosophi- 
cal and Psychological. — The nineteenth number opens with 
an article on * Moveable Associations of Presentations ' by 
M. L. Lopatin. Our intellectual life, the author tells us, con- 
sists of an uninterrupted stream of ideas, inclinations, solutions, 
and feelings. From these phenomena we live forward, some 
of them being called up by external causes, rooted or 
impressed on us by the external world, or by certain changes 
of our own organism, others arising within, the effect of 
psychical factors. The whole contents of our life and con- 
sciousness are derived from these two orders of phenomena. 
And it is clear that the indicated two orders — the chief 

184 Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 

interest of the psychologue unavoidably concentrates it- 
self on the second — the results of external stimuli not de- 
pendent on the human spirit, viz., those sensations which 
we experience, do not depend upon us but on the im- 
mediate effect of external stimuli. Another matter is the 
order of the phenomena unfolding themselves independently 
in our minds under the influence of internal stimuli, the 
research of which phenomena falls wholly within the psycho- 
logical field. To illuminate the nature of this independent 
development in us of the psychical conditions, signifies very 
nearly to go into the determination of the very essence of our 
conscious life. An estimate of the vast importance of such 
researches was impressed upon the minds of the men of the 
last century, by Herbert and Beneke in our own time, but 
latterly they have fallen into discredit both with the idealist 
school and even with realists like Wundt. The author 
now goes into the two chief weak points ot such researches. 
— M. E. Tchelpanoff" follows with an article on the 'Nature 
of Time,* spreading over 18 royal octavo pages. We shall con- 
tent ourselves with translating his last paragraph, in which 
he answers his concluding question: 'so then what is time ? 
The field (bed, our author calls it) is in our own minds, and on 
(across ?) this field run occurrences, facts which are completed 
in space. And the beginning and the end, and the endless- 
ness of time, is in our spirit, for time is its creation. The 
question about the objective reality of time without us, is the 
product of a naive philosophy, which, according to the expres- 
sion of Plato, admitted the reality of that which he could " feel 
with his hands ; " for the question, Exists time really ? is equi- 
valent to the question. Does time exist in space? A comic 
answer would be this, ' Yes, it really exists, but only in the 
space of our spirit/ — The leading article in the number follows 
next, by Professor Kazloff", being a continuation of his papers 
on 'French Positivism,' in which he sums up the views of 
Taine, Dolan, and Ribot, to be followed in a succeeding article 
by those of Fouille, Guyau, and Tard. These authors, M. 
Kazloff" classifies, first of all, into pure and mixed positivism ; 
the mixture being with metaphysics, which mixture M. Kazloff* 
calls half-positivism. These names belong especially to con- 
temporary French Positivists as divisible into two groups. 
The three first mentioned above present on one side with 
more purity the general characteristics of positivism which is 
indicated in No. 15 of this journal, in the article on Comte^ 
and on the other side they approximate to the second group 
in spirit and fundamental conception, so that to brin^ out 
their characteristics, it is very advantageous to compare them 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 185 

in one and the other relations with Comte himself. Their 
diflFerence from Comte and from one another are, however, not 
in principle but in partial and individual traits, their depen- 
dence on latent erudition, a condition of media, and the time 
when they have advanced into social activity, etc. In regard 
to Fouille, Guyau, and Tard, what separates them essentially 
from Comte and those represented in the first group is, that 
they not only do not deny in priuciple the philosophical char- 
acter of metaphysics in general, but they actually make use of 
them in their own philosophy. Nevertheless, it is impossible 
not to remark that they do this in a somewhat troubled fashion^ 
apologetically, because it is not possible to get along without 
metaphysics altogether, although they do not possess the full 
right of citizenship within the realm of knowledge, as is the 
case with science. The result of this is that they are always 
emphasising the fact that the metaphysics they use *are founded 
on experience,' ' supported by scientific knowledge, and are 
not contradictory to it,' and such like excuses, by which they 
are distinguished from the former three. Hence they are named 
half-Positivists. Our author then proceeds to characterize the 
former three. Taine, he holds to be the most prominent re- 
presentative of pure Positivism. The high place which he 
holds, both in France and beyond it, as a philosopher and man 
of letters, is fully deserved. His vast erudition and great in- 
tellectual force, his love of truth and firmness of conviction, 
his independence of thought and freedom from prejudices, 
raise him to the highest place amongst the learned and literary 
circles of France, while as a writer, he is distinguished by 
great elegance and a splendid style. Passing next to the 
study of his philosophy, M. Kazloff* holds that he is not a mere 
follower of the English school of Hume and Mill and Bain, 
but would name himself a disciple of Aristotle, Spinoza, and 
Hegel. He has profited by the study of Wundt and the 
physiological psychology of Germany, and is, indeed, a philo- 
sopher of the highest order. This article must in part have 
been written before this great thinker passed away. M. Kaz- 
lofi" then proceeds to give an analysis of his philosophy. This 
LS followed by similar analyses of Dolan and Ribot, the latter 
of whom he considers to be the leading philosopher of France 
after Taine has passed away, and as belonging essentially to 
the same school. — This paper is succeeded by a remarkable 
paper entitled the * Confessions of One formerly Insane,' and 
another by M. Sezbski on Theodore Meynert, an eminent 
anatomist and medical specialist, especially of the brain and 
nervous system, a professor moreover in the University of 
Vienna. This is followed by some special papers : one on the 

186 Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 

* Immortality of the Soul,' by S. Glogoleff, and one by Pset- 
stefieff, whose obituary notice appeared in the last number, 
' The last Shadows of the Past,' by G. Rossolinao, * Physio- 
logy of the Musical Talent/ aud finally by M. Lopatin, who 
leads off in the present number, on a new psycho-physio- 
logical law discovered by M. Vvedenski. These are succeeded 
by the usual reviews of books and bibliography. 

ROOSKAHYAH Mysl — Russian Opinion — (September, Octo- 
ber, and November). — In these three numbers there are sixty- 
three items, omitting the translations. The principal articles, 
some of which run through the three numbers, are as follows : 
A domestic narrative by I. I. Potapenko, entitled, 'Upon Pen- 
sion,' complete in eighteen chapters ; the completion of D. N. 
Mamin-Sibiryak's tale, * A Great Sinner;* 'Poetry,' which is 
somewhat more feeble than usual, is represented by K. D. 
Balmont, D. S. Merezhkofski, and V. N. Lahdyzhenski : ' Poesy 
and Prose,' a highly intellectual story, complete in thirteen 
chapters, by N. I. Timkofski ; fourteen additional chapters to 
Henry Senkevich's romance, ' The Family Polanetski,' which 
last quarter we inadvertently, or rather inadequately, styled 
(what it really is) * A Polish Family;' another instalment of 
P. N. Milyoukoff's treatise, ' Chief Current of Russian Historical 
Thought in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries;' the 
completion of A. Y. Efimenko's historical outline, entitled, 
' National Courts in Western Russia ; ' the completion of M. 
N. Remezoff's lively record of summer vacation travel, * My 
Canicula,' embracing visits to Old Cairo, Matariah, the Ghizeh 
Museum, the ruins of Memphis and Serapeum, etc., and the 
return to Russia via Smyrna and Odessa ; ' Total of Com- 
munal Landholders,' a review of an anonymous statistical work 
bearing on the subject of the peasant proprietary, by A. I. 
Chooproff; the completion of the review by V. M. R. of C» de 
Variguy's French work, * The Women of the United 
States ; ' ' Scientific Views,' containing papers ' On the 
twentieth anniversary of the Institute of International Law,' by 
Count L. A. Kamarofski ; ' Experiments on the Theory of 
Heredity,' by M. A. Menzbir ; and ' An Historical View of 
Universal Culture,' by V. Th. Miller ; ' Home Review,' contain- 
ing allusions to the consequences of Russian and German 
Treaties, projected changes in the law respecting the manage- 
ment of the poor, educational news, historical references to the 
system of corn reserves in Russia, project of Mr. Grasse for the 
insurance of crops, latest changes in the factory laws, which 
mainly follow English lines, latest news respecting the condition 
of, and Government assistance to the colonists in Siberia, 

Summaries of Foreign Revietos. 187 

country schools and village libraries, and the death of the famous 
musician and composer, P. I. Tchaikofski, aged 53 ; * Foreign 
Review,' by V. A. Goltseff, which notices the Socialist move- 
ment in Austria and Germany, the Anti-French demonstrations 
in Italy, settlement of the Behring Sea controversy, German 
dissatisfaction at the projected increase of taxation through 
increased military charges, Spanish and Swedish affairs, Opening 
of the Corinth Canal, Visit of the Russian fleet to Toulon, ill 
condition of Italian Finance, Mr. Gladstone's speech at Edin- 
burgh concerning the House of Lords, Passing of the Employers' 
Liability Bill in the House of Commons and Russian journalistic 
criticism thereon, and Swiss and other foreign matters ; three 
additional papers by I. I. IvanyoukofF entitled * Outlines 
of Provincial Life ' ; ' A Rectification,' by N. F. Malevinski, 
of some recent utterances of Mr. Djanshieff in the pages 
of the Mysl ; the ' Bibliographic Division,' which contains 
notices of 152 works, no one of them English. ' The Island of 
Saghalien,' a written Itinerary, by A. P. TchaikofF ; ' Working 
of the Siberian Gold Mines in the period of the Fifties,' two- 
thirds of a valuable historical record by V. J. Semefski ; * Food 
of the National Masses in Russia,' a report read before the 
Moscow Statistical branch of the Society of Jurisprudence, 24th 
Feb., 1893, by L. N. Maress ; * More concernincr National 
Honour,' a review by V. A. Goltseff of two patriotic works, ' Our 
Direction,' by V. V., and * Basis of National Honour,' by — 
Kablitz ; ' Ministerial Roll of France,' a review by A. P. 
of the work of M. Dupriez ; ' Les Ministres dans les principaux 
pays d'Europe ' et d'Amerique ; * Josue Carducci,' his life and 
poetry, by M. W. Watson ; ' Usury and Robbery in Legal form 
practised upon the Peasantry,' a piece of awkward reading for 
the money-lending fraternity. ' Semitic or other,* by P. N. 
Obninski ; * A new book on Paris Society,' a review by Z. of 
* An Englishman in Paris,' notes and recollections; 'Mili- 
tary National Honour,' another review of the two works by 
M. A. Protopopoff ; ' Contemporary Art,' devoted to Moscow 
theatrical doings ; an additional 25 pages of the correspondence 
between ' Alexander IvanovichHertzen and Natalie Alexandrovna 
Zakharin ;' * Costino's Vengeance,' a complete sketch by Z. N, 
Gippius, or Hippius ; * A Bagatelle of Foreign Literature,' a 
chatty review by M ; four foreign tales, one of them English ; 
' Labour Questions on the Eve of the French Revolution,' by M. 
M. K6valefski ; ' Ministerial Roll of Western Europe,' (Prussia 
and Germany only), by J. K. ; * The Earth at the Creation of the 
World,' by V. D. Sokoloff ; 'The Newest False-Science,' (Psevdo- 
Naoukah), a review of ' La Foule Criminelle,' essai de psycho- 

188 Summaines of Foreign Reviews, 

logic, collective par Scipio Sighele ; * Traduit de V Italian/ by 
L. E. Obolenski ; ' Sociology on an Economical Basis,' by V. A. 
Goltseff ; and * The New Culture Force,' an exposure of the 
gradual Socialistic approaches of the great writers in the present 
day of all countries, by L I. IvanofF. 


LaNuova Antologia (November 1st, 1893). — The present 
critical state of Italy naturally gives rise to a number of articles 
relating to this subject, and so we have a paper by P. Villari, 
vnih the suggestive title, ' Where are we going?' The author 
points out the causes which have led to Italy's troubles, and 
opines that no party ministry can save the country. It must 
be a government which unites all parties, supported by a large 
majority of the people. ' Then will come a day,' he says, 
* when political struggles will be earned on by true and not 
artificial divisions of politicians. These true parties will 
be brought into existence by the now menacing social ques- 
tion.?, and force the middle classes to unite to avert the peril 
which directly threatens them.' The necessity of unit- 
ing for a common cause will carry all before it, and a govern- 
ment will arise ready for any sacrifice. — A. Fogazzaro writes 
an interesting account of the priest-poet, Giacomo Zanella of 
Vicenza, giving many quotations. — V. C. Bianco, under the 
title of ' Europe's Hour in Italy,' contributes a page of history. 
— G. A. Biaggi writes on Gounod and his works, pointing out 
with pride that the great composer, at the end of his career^ 
recurred to the mother-art of Italy, that is, melody, rhythm 
and simplicity, which is the natural language of the art of 
music. — A drama in one act, by E. Montecorbola, some idylls 
by Constantino Nigra, and the usual reviews fill up the num- 
ber. — (November 15th). — A short memoir of Macmahon, by G, 
Govrau; a paper in favour of the Pope's abandoning Rome as 
his seat, by R. Bonghi, and an article by A. Loria oh the pro- 
gressive tax, commence this number. — Follows a paper b}' I. 
Valetta on the late Italian composer. Carlo Pedrotti, who died 
on the same day as Gounod. His decease is a great loss to his 
country. — G. Finali writes on inductive morals, and G. Sforza 
commences an account of the fall of the Ducliy of Lucca — 
(December 1st). — E. Neucioui, reviewing Tolstoi^s Le salut est 
en vous, says that though one may differ from the author, it is 
impossible not to bow the head in reverence before him. — C. 
Randaccio writes a short monograph on Father Guglielmotti. 
— G. M. Salerno, founding his remarks on several French and 
English works, wiites on the nationalization of lands, — ^^ Found- 

Summanes of Foreign Reviews, 189 

liugs' is the subject of some histoncal notes by P. BertoHui. — 
^The Poetry of the Seasons' is the theme plentifully illustrated 
by quotations from the poets of all times and nations. The 
writer is G. Morici. 

La Nuova Antologia. — (December 15th.) — Signer Bonghi 
contributes an important article on the right of a prince in a 
Free State. At the close of his paper he gives it as his opinion 
that one of the greatest evils of Italy is the fact that the 
country exists by means of continual compromises, never resolutely 
facing the vital questions that are necessary to her well-being. 
If Italy imitated England in confirming, but moderating, the 
exercise of the respective rights, duly ceding them to real 
necessity, the right of her rulers would never be contested, the 
Senate would not so often abandon its own, the Chamber and 
the deputes would not continually vacillate between exceeding 
and abandoning their right, the order of justice would re- 
acquire its ancient reputation, and the country would again 
begin to have faith in itself, which is the only thing that can 
restore it to life and prosperity. 

La Rassegna Nazionale (November 1st). — Besides a con- 
tinuation of the papers on the Rosminian question, and of 
others in former numbers, we have here a short tale, ' The 
Librarian ; ' an article by Z. on the Triple Alliance, and some 
letters on the religious problem in Italy, by F. M. Pasanisi and 
G. Salvadori. — The review of foreign literature notices Dr. 
Caird's * Evolution of Religion,' and Huxley's ' Evolution and 
Ethics,' the contents of which are fully described. Also Pro- 
fessor Ramsay's 'The Church in the Roman Empire' is noticed, 
and Miss Braddon's 'The Venetians,' favourably reviewed. Of 
Crawford's * Pietro Ghisleri,' the critic says that the plot is re- 
pugnant and almost incredible, but that such is the mastery of 
the author that the reader is forced to believe, and the figure 
of the hero excites interest from the first page to the last. — 
(November 16th). — ' Woman and Priest,' is a dull-looking 
story in letters, which is continued in following numbers. — 
Besides continuation of former articles, we have here a short 
paper by R. de Cesare on Macmahon and the last conclave, 
recalling the faith which Macmahon had in the assurances of 
the Italian Government. After the death of Pio Nono in 1877, 
nothing was done by France or any other Catholic power to 
limit the action of the Fathers met in conclave, showing a 
f^ery different state of things to what rules now. — A. Rossi 
writes about the disturbances at Turin, and the Duke of 
Gualtieri contributes a long article on * King and Parliamen- 
tarism,' desiring that the King should assume the needed 

190 Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 

authority. — (December 1st).— ^A. Solimani writes an interesting^ 
paper on Socialism in the Spartan constitution. — * Woman and 
Priest ' is continued, as are also the chapters on the Court and 
Society in Turin. 

La Rassegna Nazionale — (December 16th.) — The chief 
articles of previous numbers are continued, and we have besides 
a few notes from R. Gandolfi on musical history, recording the 
works of the 16th century composers, Cristofano Malvezzi and 
Emilio de' Cavalieri. 

La RrviSTA Marittima (December) contains an important 
article by Dr. Pasqualini on * Electric Ventilators in Ships,' 
describing all that has been done, and remains to be doue, in 
that direction. — Dr. Teso writes on the ' Seal-fishing in the 
Behring Sea/ — Signor Betteni on the ' Armour-plating of 
men-of-war,' and Captain Salvati on the ' Naval Writings of 
Guglielmotti.' — A letter from Colonel Gorran on the ' Centres 
of Naval Defence * is of much interest. 

L'Archivio Storico for the Neapolitan Provinces — (No. 2, 
1893) — besides many continuations of articles in former num- 
bers, has a long one, interesting only to classical scholars, on 
the ' Satyricon of H. Petronius.' — Signor A. Sambon sends 
notes, illustrated, on some rare coins of Carlo Durezzo and of 
Paestum ; also an account of a gold staterus of Posidonia. — 
(No. 3, 1893). — B. Maresca commences a ' History of Chevalier 
Nucherouse during the reactionary movement in Naples in 
1799.' — E. Percopo publishes some new documents relating to 
authors and artists in the time of the Aragonese priuces. 

La Cultura, edited by R. Bonghi — (Oct. 7). — ' The Reform 
of French Orthography.' — (Oct. 21). — 'The Christologic 
Dogma.* — ' The Parliament of Religions at Chicago.' — ' The 
Brain of Woman.' — (Oct. 28). — ' Norwegian Dramas.' — * The 
Italians and the moral charac»:er of Theophrast' — (November 
6). — ' On Anthologies.' — (Nov. 13). — Contains only short review 
of books. — (Nov. 20) — Here is printed Bonghi's speech at the 
opening of the Dante Society in Florence. — The Literary 
Review notices B. Nicholson's Ben Jonsoiu — (Dec. 4). — Bonghi's 
speech on 'Moral awakening,' given at the opening of a branch 
Dante Society at Spoleto. 

L'EcONOMiSTA (Nov. 5) contains ' The Condition of the 
Money-market.' — ' The Economical Congress at Turin.' — ' The 
riches of the difiereut countries.' — ' The payment of Salaries.' 
— ' The failures in Italy.' — ' The finances of Brazil.' — (Nov. 
12). — 'Francesco Genela.' — 'Ministry and Parliament' — 'The 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 191 

Agrarian Rents/ — * The theory of the Cost of Production/ — 
' Economical Review/ 

L' EcoNOMiSTA. — (December 10th.) — ' The Crisis/ — * The 
Banking Laws/ — * The Budget of the Mediterannean Manoeuvres 
of 1892-3/ 

La Scienza Del Diritto Privato— The Science of Private 
Law — (November). — On Professor Lena's ' Juridic Socialism.' 
— ' Juridic Evolution.' — ' The Roman law in the evolution of 
modern Private Law.' — ' Notarial Residence.' — ' The integral 
reform of Civil Law.' — * Legislative Movements/ 

RiviSTA Italiana de Filosofia (November, December). — 
' School and pedagogic questions in Germany,' by A. Piazzi. 
— * Historic sketch of Gerolamo Cardano,' by G. Vidari. — 
' The idea in good Music,' by G. M. Ferrari. — Reviews. 

Il Giornale Storico della Lettekatura Italiana. — 
(No. 66, 1893). — L. Frali contributes a learned article on 
Nicola Malpigli and his shyness. — F. Amati, in^the * Varieties' 
writes of the Lombardians, and the hatred entertained of them 
in the 12th century. — A. Belloni writes on some passages of 
Virgil and Dante, and F. Ceretti on Giovanni Pica della 

La Revista degli Scienze Politische e Sociali. — (Dec. 
15th.) — After continuations of the papers in previous nam bers^ 
there is a varied political chronicle, and many notes on econoi»ical 
and social facts. ' R ' reviews David Lubins, ' A Novel 
Proposition,' contending that the author's proposal for farm 
products to be moved as mail matter at a uniform rate for all 
distances, would be nothing but a special form of protection for 

La Nuova Rassenga. — (December.) — « The Pontamiana 
Academv/ — 'Heredity in Mental Habits.' — 'In the Studio of 
Ercole Rosa.'— 'The Siege of Osoppo (i848.')— ' The Skull; 
Decadence Novel.' — ' The Iron Mask according to recent 
pubHcations/ — 'An Inedited Letter from Giordani.' — * Merry 
Times.'— ' Morbid Morality.'— ' Intellectual Life in the Regi- 
ments/ — ' Caricaturists and Caricatures.' — ' Our Agriculture.* — 
' Electoral Corruption/ — ' In the Sulphur Mines.' — ' A Process 
against Tarso.' — ' A New Translator of Pindar.' — 'At the Fire- 
Trial.' — ' Autumn,' (verses.) — ' The General Inspection of Public 
Instruction.' — 'The Last Marvels of Hypnotism.' — 'Diadactic 
Arrangement of Clerical Institutes.' — ' A Sixteenth Centurv 
Stage.'—' The Man of the Future.'—' The Poetic Works of 
Marradi/ — ' The Eruptive Phases and Periods of Volcanos/ 

192 Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 

Revista della Tradizioxe Popolaui Italiani (December 
1st). — 'Two Etruscan Legends.' — *The Classic Legends and 
Superstitions of the Roman Castles.' — * Legends and Traditions 
of Cogne in the Valle d* Aosta.— ' The Towers of Nielo.' — ' The 
Legend of the Robin and the Swallows.' — * Legend of Hannibal.* 
* The Woman with the Amputated Hands.' — ' Popular Songs.' — 
/ Prayers.* — ' Popular Beliefs and Superstitions.' — ' Customs.' 


Revite des Deux JIoxdes (October, November, December). 
— The first of the October numbers contains an article which 
will be read with special interest just now. It is entitled 
' Canaux Maritimes,* and opens with an account of the con- 
struction of the Canal of Corinth, which was opened last ye&r. 
The next section is devoted to a similar stretch of the canal, 
now in course of construction, which is to unite the North Sea 
and the Baltic, and of which it is expected that the present 
year will see the completion. The Manchester ship canal is of 
course, included in the paper, and the scheme by means of 
which some people think it possible to annihilate Gibraltar by 
joining the Atlantic and the Mediterranean is also discussed. 
Altogether, the article which though written by one evidently 
familiar with all the technicalities of the subject, is particularly 
clear and intelligible, may be recommended to the attention of 
the reader as both interesting and instructive. — In a paper to 
which the recent outrages of the anarchists give a certain 
amount of actuality, M. G. Tarde discusses an interesting 
pliilosophical and psychological problem. He endeavours to 
explain the influence which the members of a crowd, or of an 
association exercise upon each other, and which leads them to 
commit collectively crimes of which they are individually 
incapable. — In a political paper which he heads, ' Aux Rives du 
Mekong,' M. Edmond Planchut deals with a question which 
may now be said to belong to ancient history, and undertakes 
to show that the Enghsh view of the Franco-Siamese difficulty 
and of the French ultimatum was utterly unjustifiable. — In the 
other number for the same month, political economy takes a 
leading place, and contributes an article on Co-operation. 
The value of the paper may be estimated from the fact that it 
bears the well-known signature of M. Paul Leroy-Beaulieu. — 
M. Michel Breal in a very interesting article considers and 
discusses the spelling reform which it has been proposed to in- 
troduce in the French language. — The marine stations of 
Naples and Bonguls-sur-mer are described by M. Frederic 
Houssay ; and M. Rene Doumic brings a short, but appreciative 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 193 

study of the work of Guy de Maupassant. — M. Gabriel 
Hanotaux, who is making the life and career of Richelieu the 
subject of special study, brings a farther instalment of what 
promises to be, when complete, a valuable biography of the 
illustrious statesman. The present section of it deals with 
Richelieu at the State-General of 1614. — Continuing his 
sketches of the history and progress of chemistry in antiquity 
and in the middle ages, M. Berthelot here indicates the im- 
portant part played by the Arabs in the development of the 
science. — ' Why do we blush ? ' It is M. M^linand who asks 
the question, and who devotes a very interesting paper to the 
explanation of what seems a simple, because it is a very 
common phenomenon. — At a moment when the relations be- 
tween France and Russia are so cordial, many will doubtless 
be interested to read the historical sketch which M. Arthur 
Desjardins entitles ' How Russia took its Place in Europe.' 
It is based on the collection of treaties and conventions pub- 
lished by order of the Russian Foreign Office, and shows how 
Russia, which, from the 13th century had become an Asiatic 
power, gradually entered into the European concert after the 
16th century, and how, under the reign of Catherine IT., it 
took its definitive place in Europe. — December opens with a 
long and solid political study — the first of a series — ^in which 
the anonymous author traces the transformations of diplomacy 
in Europe. — A second instalment concludes M. Leroy-Beau- 
lieu's study of Co-operation. — A question of, unfortunately, 
constant interest, is treated by M. Edouard Blanc — that of 
epidemics. He gives a history of the various diseases which 
have spread over Europe, and indicates the routes followed 
by the great epidemics of ancient and modem times. 

L'Art (January, 1894). — This publication inaugurates the 
year with a new departure. It has adopted the more suit- 
able size of a large quarto, which makes it more convenient 
both for reading and binding. As regards the text, there is a 
considerable increase of matter, whilst both paper and typo- 
graphy are of the highest excellence. M. Emile Michel opens 
the new number with a paper on Aimd G. de Lemud. It is 
only a first instalment, and sketches the earlier years of the 
career of the remarkable artist, of whose works some excellent 
specimens are given as illustrations. — The next paper, which 
is by M. Eugene de Bricqueville appeals more directly to 
musicians. It has for its subjects the collections of musical 
instruments of the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries, and describes 
with both pen and pencil, the pipes, harpischords, spinnets, 
lutes and even drums of former days. — In a short paper M. 
xxin. 13 


194 Summaries of Foreign Reviews, 

AlphoDse Wauters gives a sketch of the career of Van Orley, 
some of whose best work is to be seen in the beautiful windows 
of Ste-Gudule in Brussels. — The authenticity of some of the 
pastel portraits contained in the De La Tour collection, at St. 
Quentin, is discussed by M. Abel Patoux, who indicates several 
as giving considerable plausibility to the accusation brought 
agamst Lemasle, of having stolen some of the original works 
and put copies in their place. — M. Couard, in a paper which 
has as much historical as artistic interest, deals with the 
question of Mme. du Barry's diamonds It was once believed 
that the theft of her diamonds in 1791* was purely imaginary, 
and that she had really sold them in London. There is, how- 
ever, proof, that she was actually robbed of them, and that they 
were brought to London, and that, pending certain magisterial 
investigations, they were entrusted to a firm of bankers. Now, 
as Mme. du Barry never recovered them, the question arises, 
•What became of them?' and M. Couard would like an answer 
to it. 

Revue de l'Histoire des Religions (No. 5, 1893). — Under 
the title *Les Muzarabes,' M. Lucien Dollfus gives a very 
graphic sketch of the persecutions and counter persecutions that 
followed upon the Moslem invasion, and the invasion of the 
Moors in Spain. The name 'Muzarabes' was given to the 
Goths who had settled there on the invasion of Alaric, and who 
still remained a people by themselves. They refused to mingle 
with their new masters, and were zealous adherents of their own 
type of Christianity. The name given them denotes ^ mixed 
with Arabs,' but though they lived in the same cities or provinces 
with the now dominant race they kept themselves by themselves, 
and hated their masters and the religion of the Prophet with an 
intense and bitter hatred. They provoked, and gloried in pro- 
voking, persecution by the studied insults they showered on 
Mohammed's name, and on the religious observances practised 
by his followers in their presence, and by their fanatical obtru- 
siveness of their own religious beliefs and rites on the conquerers' 
attention. The story of these persecutions, and of the revenges 
taken when opportunity offered itself to the Muzarabes and the 
Christians generally, is told here with admirable conciseness. — 
The second article is the 'Bulletin arch6ologique de la reli- 
gion romaine/ for 1892. It is by M. Aug. Audollent, and gives 
an account of the work done by the Archaeological Societies 
during that year in Italy,' as repoited in the publications of these 
societies, or of those engaged in the excavations and surveys going 
on in Rome and elsewhere. — M. J. Reville completes his transla- 
tion from the Dutch of Dr. Knappert's two papers on * Ger- 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 195 

maansche Mythologie/ — M. G. Bonet-Maury furnishes the first 
part of his descriptive report of the * Parliament of Religions ' 
held at Chicago in September last year, on the occasion of the 
World's Fair there. He gives an extremely valuable summary 
of the papers read at the Congress. 

Revue Semitique d'Epigraphie et d'Histoire Ancienne. 
(No. 4, 1893.) — Mr. J. Halevy gives us here, first, under the 
usual rubric, ' Recherches Bibliques,' a most interesting study on 
the twenty-second Psalm. The text of the Psalms in the Mas- 
soretic Version, it is well known, has suffered very considerably 
at the hands of copyists and redactors, and, in consequence, pre- 
sents an almost constant source of perplexity to thoughtful 
leaders and interpreters. The critical scholarship of to-day is 
rargely directed to the task of detecting these mistakes of tran- 
scribers and would-be emendations of redactors, and of restoring 
the text as far as possible to its original form. Of course much 
of this work is tentative and conjectural, and is subject to re- 
vision and correction as scholarship advances, and our critical 
apparatus multiplies and improves. Psalm xxii. presents in the 
Hebrew text many difficulties, a few of which only are partially 
lightened for us by the translations available for comparison. It 
offers therefore an inviting field for reverent and scholarly in- 
vestigation, and has consequently engaged, and is engaging, the 
attention and exercising the ingenuity of both Jewish and Chris- 
tian exegetes. Professor Halevy here subjects the text of this 
psalm, clause by clause, and verse by verse, where any obscurity 
exists, to a most searching examination, and offers suggestions 
both as to causes which have most likely produced that obscurity, 
and as to the alterations in the text which would remove it. 
These he supports by very weighty arguments. No one who 
knows anything of M. Halevy's contributions to almost every 
department of Biblical science needs to have a study of this kind 
from his pen recommended to his attention. To know where it 
is to be found is to ensure his interest in it and his perusal of it. 
But from the very nature of an article like this any summary of 
its contents is impossible. The points discussed are too numerous 
and intricate, and the just appreciation of the corrections sug- 
gested depends so entirely on minute and delicate points of 
scholarship, which no summary could bring out, that we must 
simply state what the article aims at. It seeks to show what 
errors have crept into the text, and to suggest the most likely 
and reasonable changes that require to be made on it to restore 
it to its original form. M. Halevy then furnishes a translation 
of the whole psalm from this restored text. In the second part 

IDt) Summaries of Foreign Reviews, 

of his article he seeks to determine the origin and date of the 
psalm. From its contents, as well as from the language and 
style of the author, he concludes that it dates from the later 
years of the Exile, and emanated from that circle to which the 
consolations of the second Isaiah were addressed. Its author 
was one of the anavim who longed with a feverish impatience for 
the redressing of the wrongs they endured in spite of their piety, 
and longed especially for restoration to their beloved land. — Li 
his second article here M. Hal6vy continues his transliteration 
and translation of the * Correspondence of Amenophis III. and 
Amenophis IV.' contained in the Tel-el-Amarna tablets. — The 
third article is in continuation of his two preceding papers 
on the 'Inscriptions recently discovered at Zindjirli.' M. Hal6vy 
here offers some corrections of the text of these Inscriptions 
which a closer study of them necessitates his making, and then 
proceeds to bring out the bearing these inscriptions have on 
our knowledge of the Hittite history and language derived from 
Biblical and other sources. — In still another paper entitled * Le 
rapt de Pers6phen6 ou Proserpine par Pluton cher les Baby- 
loniens,' he calls attention to the light thrown on the Greek 
myth and its derivation by the tablet in the British Museum 
belonging to the Tel-el- Amama collection, i%o. 82. — M. Huart 
follows up his account of the origin and authorship of the Arabic 
Ode of Ochkonwan by a complete translation of it, giving too 
the original text. — M. J. Perrachin also continues his valuable 
* Notes pour I'histoire d'Ethiopie.' — The titles of the shorter 
papers are, ' L'Inscription d'Eryx/ by M. M. Lambert, and 
' Notes Geographiques, by M. J. Halevy, who also furnishes the 
' Bibliographic.' 

Revue des Religions (Nos. 5 and 6). — M. Castonnet des 
Fosses in the first of these two numbers gives the fourth and 
final instalment of his review and criticism of Brahmanism, as a 
religious and social factor in the life of India, past and present. 
It has had, he has shown, its palmy days, and its periods of 
depression, its centuries of power, and its centuries of weakness. 
It has passed through changed forms in its efforts to retain its 
hold on the popular faith, and on the popular favour. It has 
frequently altered its dogmas, and modified its rites and cere- 
monial usages. These have been chronicled by our author 
briefly, but yet sufficiently to give his readers a just conception 
both of the internal and external history of Brahmanism. In 
this section of his review M. Castonnet des Fosses gives a short 
summary of the events which tended very early to weaken its 
hold on the populace of India, the influx, e.g., of foreign elements 
and influences through the Assyrian and Medean conquests, and 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews, 197 

the rise and spread of Buddhism. Buddhism shook it in fact to 
its foundations, and for a while seemed as if it were to supplant 
it altogether. The story of the struggle between the two 
systems is rapidly sketched, and the modifications, both on 
cult and doctrine are noted, which Brahmanism underwent in its 
effort to compete with Buddhism to retain its place in the 
affections of the people. There followed afterwards a period of 
peace and toleration. Then came an age of strife, between 
Buddhists and the worshippers of Vishnu and Siva. The Brah- 
mans sided with the latter in the hope of profiting by their help, 
and getting restored to their earlier position of supremacy. In 
this they succeeded, and then they began to persecute the 
Buddhists with relentless cruelty, finally driving them out of the 
provinces in which they had been long held in honour. The 
invasion of the Mohammedans completed the extinction of 
Buddhism ; but led also to other modifications and compromises 
in creed and cult on the part of the Brahmans. Our author 
notes in a brief form the chequered history of India since then, 
and especially the rise of the numerous sects and religious 
factions, the most important of which are described with some 
detail, such as the Sikhs and the Brahma Samaj. — The series of 
articles on Buddhism is here also continued, and so is M. the 
Abbe Sauveplane's elaborate study on the Istubar or Gilgamos 
legend. These six papers form it seems only the Introduction 
of the learned Abbe's work which he is to consecrate to this 
subject. — ^In the second of these two numbers we have, first, a 
paper on The Sacred Books of China, from the pen of the Editor 
of the Revue, M. the Abbe Z. Peisson. He divides these Books 
into two categories, or classes. The Canonical Books, and The 
Classical Books. He gives a short resumS of what is known or 
conjectured as to their origin and history, and then describes 
their character and contents. There is nothing that is novel in 
what is here said, but it is presented in a concise, clear, and 
handy form, and will suffice as a stimulant and guide to those 
beginning their studies of the religions of China, and be useful 
as a mnemonic to those more or less familiar with them already. 
His paper is not concluded here. — The other article will perhaps 
more readily invite attention. It is titled ^ La religion primitive 
d'Israel,' and is contributed by M. the Abb6 de Moor. It is not, 
however, an original contribution to this thorny, and to-day 
much debated theme, but an examination and criticism of M. 
Piepenbring's work, which appeared first in the columns of the 
Revue de VHistoire des Religions, under the title ^ La religion 
primitive des Hebreux.' M. Piepenbring's contention, that the 
Hebrews were polytheists, like all Semitic tribes, and only be- 

198 Summaries of Foreign Reviews, 

came moDotheists through the purer and more spiritual teaching 
of an advancing series of prophets, is, of course, the position 
which the critic here chiefly attacks, and seeks to overturn. The 
evolution theory, which M, Piepenbring regards as explaining the 
course of Israelitic development, is first assailed, and the facts 
on which his antagonist bases his argument, is explained in a 
totally different way from that furnished by M. Piepenbring, 
and in such a way as to make good his own averment that the 
Hebrews were first monotheists and degenerated into polytheists 
afterwards under influences that account for such degeneration. 
The learned Abbe's article will no doubt receive due attention 
from all those interested in the controversy. 

Revue Celtique (Oct, 1893). — There are but three articles 
in this number, but they are all excellent. The first alone is 
sufficient to make it more than ordinarily attractive. It is 
from the pen of the editor in chief, and is the first instalment of 
what, it is to be hoped, will be a numerous series of articles on 
the Celts in Spain. Here, after sketching the history of the 
Spanish Celts, who he believes entered Spain by crossing the 
Pyrenees from Gaul, M. D'Arbois de Jubainville discusses the 
terms which were employed by ancient authors to designate 
them, the indications which these authors give of their 
manners and customs, language and religion, their geo- 
graphical position in the country, and what we may per- 
haps be allowed to call the land laws of these early in- 
habitants of the Iberian peninsula. — * The Violent Deaths of 
GoU and Garb ' is from the pen of Dr. Whitely Stokes. The 
text is here printed in extenso for the first time from the oldest 
copy of it, that, namely in the Book of Leinster. As usual the 
text is accompanied by a translation and notes. Dr. Stokes 
has added the more important of the various readings which 
occur in the only other vellum copy known, that in the Kilbride 
MS. in the Advocates* Library. The article is likely to attract 
the attention of scholars on account of the rare words it con- 
tains, some of which Dr. Stokes confesses himself unable to ex- 
plain. — Dr. Kuno Meyer transcribes the Edinburgh version of 
the Coruach ind Riiando, ' The Bargain of the Story Man,' and 
translates it. — The rest of the number is taken up with the 
indices, etc., for the volume. 

Revue des Etudes Juives (No. 3, 1893). — This number has 
come to hand so late th^t we can do little more than give the 
titles of the morejeoprortant articles in it. The first is one of 
several paper^iShat were left by the late editor of this Revue^ 
M. Isidore -fJeob, in so forward a state as to permit of their 
publicatJBn. This paper, entitled * Reflexions sur les Juifs* 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 199 

deals with the emancipation of the Jews — an exceedingly 
interesting subject, but it lacks not only the author's 
personal revision, but much supplementary matter by 
which he had intended to illustrate and estabhsh the 
points dealt with. Still it was well worthy of a place 
in these columns, and the present Redaction has done 
well by printing it here as he left it. It is the first part of 
the paper only that appears in this number. The other articles 
are, * Jacob Mantino, une page de Thistoire de la renaissance,* 
by M. D. Kaufmann : ' Les chaptres xvi, xvii., der livre de 
Josue,' by M. Israel Sack : ' Juifs et Grecs devant un empereur 
remain,' by M. Theodore Reinach : ' MeschouUam ben Calony- 
mos,' by M. A. Epstein : ' Le livre de Talgebra et le problem 
des asymptotes de Simon Motot ; ' Le livre des Chretiens et le 
Livre des Juifs des duohesses d'Autriche,' by M. Schweinburg- 
Eibenschitz ; and ' Les Juifs d'Orient d'apres les geographes 
et les voyageurs,* a continuation of M. Paul Grunebaum's 
instructive study. 


BiBLiOTHEQUE Universelle ET Revue SUISSE (October, 
November, December). — The first of these three numbers 
opens with a contribution to political economy in the shape of 
a paper entitled ' L'Avenir de TUnion monetaire Latine.* It 
is written from the point of view of a monometalist who, 
however, disclaims the name. He urges that the economists 
designated by the name do not wish to proscribe any metal, 
but only ask that the state should not intervene to oblige the 
citizen to accept a piece of money for a value which it does 
not intrinsically possess. — Mile. Berthe Vadier concludes the 
interesting series of papers in which she has been retracing the 
history of the various kinds of fancy work which have, through 
succeeding centuries, occupied the fair fingers of the gentle 
sex. The present instalment deals particularly with lace- 
making, knitting, and artificial flowers. — The notes of Dr. 
Machon's exploration of Patagonia are continued through all 
the numbers and brought to a close in the last of them. — M. 
Philippe Monnier contributes an interesting sketch which he 
calls 'Une Bourgeoise de la Renaissance,' and in which he 
draws a picture of an Italian matron of the Renaissance 
period, taking Alessandra Macinghi negli Strozzi for his model. 
— Another contribution which runs through all the numbers 
for the quarter is 'L'hygifene de TAlimentation et du Logement/ 
a very instructive paper, containing a great deal of useful in- 
formation with regard to both food and lodging. — At the head 

200 Sununaries of Foreign Reviews. 

of the November part M. Nurna Droz appears with a paper 
deaHiig with a purely Swiss question — the re-or^nization of 
the Federal Council. — M. Constant Bodenheimer gives a sketch 
of the working of the German scheme of state-aided insurance^ 
and leaves the reader under the impression that it stands in 
need of a great deal of revision, and that those who are 
inclined to adopt it would do well to modify it before doing 
so. — From M. G. van Muyden there is a most interesting paper 
dealing with the question of utilizing the wind as a motive 
power, and describing a scheme which has been devised for 
doing so. — A sketch of the career of Louis Ruchonnet, a Swiss 
statesman, who died suddenly last September, whilst acting as 
chairman of a legal committee of the Council. — The several 
chroniqiies must again be indicated as amongst the most 
striking and interesting features of the magazine. They are 
not only brightly written, but also show on the part of the 
writera, a thorough knowledge of what is taking place in the 
country about which each writes, and a very judicious choice 
of matter. 


La Espana Moderna, Revista Ihero- Americana (October). — 
E. Caro has an admirable paper on Moral Hygiene, its prin- 
ciples and rules — defining his subject as the science of main- 
taining a healthy mind without injury to the body — ' Have the 
courage to live well — the results are appreciated, but the 
means are not employed.' He calls the imagination — with 
Hippel — the lung of the mind, and a debilitated imagination 
is moral phthisia — Of the few purely native articles, four are 
poetical. One to Gonzalo Bulnes is above the average of 
modem Spanish verse. — ' Morbid Love ' is a critical resume of 
the work of Dr. Laurent in French. It is a subtle and well 
written examination, but many will ask if there is any other 
* love ' except such as puts the patient in a morbid state ? — 
Castelar describes the state of Spain politically, and compares 
the programmes of the Federalists and Carlists, which he con- 
siders the same ; including Municipal Autonomy and Regional 
Parliaments. He remarks that luckily the ancient vitality of 
the French people is such, and their capacity for resistance as 
well as their impelling power, that they can live peacefully 
and free without a parliamentary majority, and without a de- 
finite government I He eulogises the calm conduct of English 
liberals, who do not dream of bringing revolutionary methods 
to support progressive legislation, although their Bill has been 
cast out by the Lords. His sympathies of course are for Home 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews, 201 

Kule. He marvels at Germany, the foremost country in 
spiritual revolutions, the most backward in political revolu- 
tion. He condemns Bismarck's garrulity and want of true 
greatness, and considers he will die in disgrace like Napoleon 
on St. Helena. — Villegas justly defends Spain against the 
aspersions of those who deny her contributions to the drama. 
— ' From El cid of Guillen de Castro, to the Don Juan Tenorio 
of Zorrilla, our theatre has presented a greater and more 
varied number of characters than all the other modem theatres 
together, if we except Shakespeare, an author who is almost 
superhuman.' — It is interesting to find that Senor Campion 
laments over the progress of Castillian to the destruction of 
the Basque, as some do over the decay of Gaelic. 
A protest is entered by Villegas against this 'regional' aspira- 
tion.' — (November). — ' Moral Atavism,' is a critical review of 
Dr. Napoleon Colajarmi's work on Criminal Sociology. He dis- 
agrees with the ordinary application of Atavism. ' I should 
understand that when in our urban gatherings of struggling 
egotism, and utilitarianisms, there arises a disinterested spirit, 
nobly generous, in it will be seen the image of our remote 
ancestors, whose blood and sacrifices have created our present 
well-being. Heroism — that is perhaps the true moral Atavism.' 
— 'The Critical Review of the Centenary' finishes with the 
Chicago Exhibition. It will be valuable historically. — Castelar 
grieves over the Riff war, which will dissipate resources re- 
quired for the organisation of the democracy in peace and 
liberty. He repeats the old story that these Moors are de- 
scended from the Andalusian refugees, still looking back to 
Spain as Paradise, and carrying next their dagger the keys that 
belong to the homes abandoned by their fathers in Cordova, 
Seville, or Granada. He smiles at the union of the nation of 
progress with the empire of stagnation, but holds that the 
union of Italy with Germany is as contradictory as that of 
France and Russia, which has its excuse in the stand made by 
Alexander II. of Russia against the determination ot Bismarck 
to crush France absolutely. No more comprehensive glance 
at the European situation is taken than that of Castelar, and 
no continental journalist understands the sentiment and the 
politics of England so well.— Villegas complains that recent 
Spanish literature is no longer either stately or classic. The 
story has succeeded the novel; the pamphlet the folio; the 
epitome to the history ; the little verse to the poem. He has 
nothing during this month worthy of consideration. — (Decem- 
ber). — ' Criminal Arqueology ' is a most suggestive paper that 
might well serve as a basis for work in this country, although 
probably facts and dates would hardly be procurable. — 

202 Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 

Gastelar complains justly of the injury done to public men by 
reporters, who publish their careless comments made in the 
mental dishabille of private life. He denies that the mind 
should be drawn from its seclusion, any more than he would 
go to the promenades in dressing gown and slippers. When 
he publishes his views and opinions he writes and corrects 
them with care, re-examines the proofs, and expects the editor 
to supervise the finished product also. To show how much 
depends upon even a comma, he gives an interesting illustration 
in the reply of the angels at the Sepulchre to the holy women. 
If in place of Resurrexit : non est hic^ it had been written, 
Resurrexit non: est hie, the whole Christian doctrine would 
have been changed, based as it is on the resurrection of the 
Christ. — Castelar gives at length his views on the Moorish war, 
and the jealousy of the natives towards England comes out in 
the belief that she is desirous of a foothold in Morocco, more 
especially in Taugiers. He gives a list of the multifarious 
wars and struggles of Spain during the last seven centuries, 
and concludes by declaring she requires to recuperate and re- 
main neutral among the nations, having shed her blood with- 
out benefit to henSelf. It is a brilliant and important resum^. 
— ^As these three months* numbers are maiuly composed of 
translations from foreign masterpieces, it is satisfactory to 
learn that the new year is to inaugurate a change. A new 
magazine will retain the foreign material, and La Espafla 
Moderna will be more national in future. A few writers like 
Castelar would do much to secure it a European audience. 


De Gids. — The November number opens with obituary 
articles on Professor Bays by his friends Professors Quack and 
Moltzer. For nearly half a century his name has been a well 
known one in Holland. Latterly he was co-editor and a constant 
contributor to the Gids. His mental and political development 
is sketched. Bom at Amsterdam, he held various official posi- 
tions in government departments and ended as Law Professor at 
Leiden. Upright and loveable, he was almost fanatically de- 
voted to liberalism, but at the same time cherished a deep dis- 
trust of democracy. All public movements and questions of the 
day were subjected to his criticism in well written forcible articles, 
and he had in this way much influence on public opinion. His 
great work is one on the Constitution (Grondwet) and the best 
mode of reforming it. — Boekenoogen gives a second instalment 
of his article on ' Dutch Nursery Rhymes,' with many extremely 
curious examples. He intends, when time has been given for 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews, 203 

the contributions he solicits to come in, to publish a collection, 
an excellent service, as most of these old-fashioned rhymes are 
fast becoming obsolete. — The great extent of the diamond cut- 
ting trade in Amsterdam makes the next article on ' Artificial 
Diamonds* of practical interest for Holland. The trade is not in 
immediate danger for it seems improbable that diamonds can 
ever be manufactured of as great size as natural ones, but the 

Eaper gives a clear and attractive record of all that has hitherto 
een attempted in the fabrication of real diamonds. — ^Burgersdi jk, 
who has done so much to enrich Dutch poetry by his translations, 
here gives a version of ' The Persians of ^^schylus.* — December 
opens with ' A New Dialogue on the Drachenfels,' a comic piece 
in which modern and effete modes of thought and life are con- 
trasted, but the wit is clumsy and forced. — Next comes a review 
of Max Lehmann's ' Scharnhorst,' the great military genius who, 
unappreciated in his own day, was recognised two generations 
later as the man who laid the foundations of modem military 
tactics and education. — Kielstra gives an interesting account of 
the history and present condition of the island Bali or Little 
Java, one of the Sunda Archipelago. He contrasts the native 
district, where there is continual strife, crime and misery, with 
the Government lands, where order, prosperity and peace 
reign, and suggests that it would be an act of benevolence to 
place the whole island under the Dutch flag. — Emant writes 
brightly about ' Japanese Wrestlers.' — The burning question of 
who is to regulate their time is taken up by flubrecht in ' The 
Sun or the Clock.' In spite of the patriotic cry to go by the 
sun, as all but the railways do at present, they adopting Green- 
wich time, Hubrecht has the hardihood to advocate the general 
adoption of Mid-European time, which would clearly be most 
convenient, seeing how Dutch and German railways form one 
system ; but there is a strong prejudice in Holland against the 
slightest show of submission to their encroaching neighbour. — 
Next comes an article of considerable merit and critical acumen 
on ' French Tragedy,' by A. G. van Hamel, and some touching 
and graceful verse by Marie Boddaert. — The first paper in 
the volume for 1894 is one by Prof. Fruin, on ' The 
Revival of Catholicism in North Netherland about the be- 
ginning of the seventeenth century.' Both for Catholics 
and Protestants this article is replete with information, but 
as it breaks off rather abruptly, it can be better noticed after 
its conclusion in a second part. — The first of a series of * Impres- 
sions of Travel in the United States and California,' is brightly 
written, but contains nothing very novel. — ^An Evening,' by 
Coenen, jr., is an impressionist, fin de siecle and rather silly sketch 

204 Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 

of common-place emotions and moonlight. — * A Time of Truce/ 
by Cort van der Linden. Under that title he describes the poli- 
tical situation in Holland, forecasting that they are on the eve of 
a terrible outbreak of the smouldering social forces, unless by 
good guiding the truce shall possibly end in a period of fruitful 
peace — the great question is that of the franchise. — ' From the 
History of Japan,' by D. Aitton, is a record of the rapid progress 
of that country in civilisation likely to end in the entire resump- 
tion by the Japanese themselves of their own government and 
guiding to the exclusion of foreigners. — Perhaps the most 
attractive paper in this number is from the pen of Byvanck, 
who, under the title of * Not known,' brings forward the Swabian 
peasant poet Christian Wagner. He has indeed been noticed in 
Germany, but neither the depth and insight nor the tender 
beauty of his poems and stories has been appreciated there. 

Theologisch Tudsohrift (November). — A review by Dr. 
Rovers, of Badham's, * The Formation of the Gospels,' allows 
that the author is an acute and painstaking scholar, but 
declares that the results he arrives at cannot stand — Dr. G. 
Wildeboer gives a new rendering of that famous crux criticorum^ 
Pa xvi 1-4. The following is the proposed translation : — * A 
jewel of David, (v. 1) Preserve me, God, for in Thee have I 
made my refuge. 2. I said to Jahve., Thou art my Lord, the 
good of thine espoused (title given by the prophet to the 
chosen people). 3. To the saints who are in the land (I spoke). 
They are the distinguished of Kol-chefsi-bam (to them applies 
the prophetic words, ** All my delight is in them). 4. They 
increase their sorrows who give their biide's portion to another 
god (Ezek. xvi. 33) etc. . . .' The image in the last verse 
is that of a bride bringing her portion with her and presenting 
it in the wrong quarter. This interpretation is rejected by 
B&thgen in his new commentary on the Psalms ; ana we may 
fairly hope that its repulsiveness will ensure its rejection in 
every other quarter also. — A review of Newman Smyth's 
* Christian Ethics/ by Dr. A. Bruining, while finding many 
merits in the book, condemns it on the whole for want of 
thoroughness in its speculative basia Two competing prin- 
ciples, it is complained, are everywhere set up in it, the natural 
one of development and the supernatiu-al of a divine interfer- 
ence in Christ, the authority of Scripture and that of the Spirit 
in the Church, the law without and conscience within ; and 
thus the book cannot be clear or satisfactory at any point. — 
Dr. R. Smend's * Religionsgeschichte of the Old Testament ' is 
spoken of by Dr. Gort, who complains of the arbitrary limita- 
tion which has kept the author from treating the Maccabbean 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 205 

period and using the Old Testament apocrypha. The earlier 
parts of the book are specially praised, and the whole work 
commended, though less highly. The number concludes with 
a set of minor notices by van Manen of recent works on extra- 
canonical pieces of early Christian literature.— Vol. II. of the 
Cambridge ' Texts and Studies ' is very favourably reviewed ; 
but the more adventurous features of Mr. Rendel Harris' essay 
on 'Codex Bezse' are thought to be a weakness rather than a 
struggle in an otherwise useful piece of work. — Various recent 
works on the * Gospel of Peter ' are mentioned, and so is the 
essay by Mr. Legge in the last number of this review, on 
* Some Heretic Gospels.* 



Theism as grounded in Human Nature^ Historically and Critically 

Handled. Being tlie Burnett Lectures for 1892 and 1893. 

By William L. Davidson, M. A., LL.D; London and New 

York : Longmans, Green, & Co. 1893. 

So many books have been written about the great problem which Dr. 
Davidson has here chosen for the subject of his Burnett Lectures, that 
novradays one scarcely expects to find aught new said about it, or anything 
said in a more attractive way than what has been said« It was therefore 
with only a sort of languid curiosity that we turned to Dr. Davidson's 
volume and began to dip into its pages. A few minutes reading, however, 
was sufficient to show that the work is of more than ordinary value, and 
deserving of the most careful study. The treatment of the subject is at 
once critical and historical, and whatever the author has to say is said in 
the most simple and lucid way. His object is to show how the doctrine of 
Theism is grounded in human nature, to explain and defend its contents, 
and to trace its various developments from the beginning of European 
thought down to the present. There is considerable controversy in the 
volume, but that was unavoidable, while the skill, fairness, and temper 
with which the arguments of opponents are met, are admirable. Dr. 
Davidson is an acute and an independent thinker. At the same time his 
wide reading and thorough acquaintance with the literature of his subject 
have qualified him as few others are qualified to look at the problem in the 
manifold aspects in which it presents itself, and to handle it with a breadth 
of treatment rarely met with. The difficulties besetting the subject are 
candidly admitted and fairly faced. They are no greater, Dr. Davidson 
points out, than those which are to be met with in any other line of pro- 
found research — a fact which is often forgotten, but which the student 
of Theism always requires to bear in mind. ' There is difficulty/ says Dr. 
Davidson, ' in the famous metaphysical problem of External Perception 
and the Freedom of the Will ; the biolo^t has difficulty with the con- 
ception and proper definition of Life ; and if, with the modem physicist, 
we permit ourselves to speculate on the nature and ultimate constitution 
of Atoms, we shall soon discover that we have penetrated into a region 
where neither sun nor stars in many days appear.' Ttiis is putting the 
matter very temperately. At the same time it indicates the spirit in which 
the author approaches his subject. Dealing with the doctrine as grounded 
in human nature, after an introductory lecture in which the nature, 
possibility, and limits of Theistic doubt are discussed, Dr. Davidson starts 
upon the course of his argument with a careful analysis, expository and 
historical, of what human nature is, in which the doctrines of Plato and 
Aristotle, of the writers of the Old and New Testament, of Confucius, 
Buddha, the Neo-Platonists, Anselm, Descartes, Kant, and more recent 
writers concerning man are expounded and examined, and their different 
views of Theism stated. The two lectures which follow are among the 
most important in the volume, and considering the present attitude of 
criticism towards Theism will probably be read with the greatest interest. 
They deal with the various aspects of Agnosticism. Here as elsewhere the 
author is historical as well as critical, and discusses not only the Agnosti- 
cism of Huxley, Herbert Spencer, Mansel, and Hume, but also its older 

Contemporary Literature. 207 

phases as exhibited in the writings of the Neo-Platonists and Xenophanes. 
The fifth lecture brings us to the main point at issue. Philosophy, Dr. 
Davidson maintains, is and must be based on experience. What then, he 
asks, is the experiential basis of Theistic religion ? Accepting Mr. Herbert 
Spencer's position that man's Theistic notions are * necessary products of 
progressing intelligence,' he proceeds to argue that God is a necessity 
of the human soul, first, because, as man is what he is, the idea of God, 
as is seen from history and present fact, inevitably arises in him, and if it 
inevitably arises in him, it ministers to a human want, and is thereby a 
necessity. ^ On this point the author sums up his argument by saying — 
* God is a datum of man's nature, inasmuch as He is the object of a natural 
want. To this want, man's spiritual system is organic — which means not 
only that human nature is dependent for its satisfaction on Him, but also 
that the want itself would not have arisen apart from Him. ' * Once base 
Theism in human nature,' he afterwards adds, 'and God's existence 
becomes a rational certainty : it is the necessary presupposition of the 
case.' The objections brought by Comte and others against this are care- 
fully examined, after which the author proceeds to his second argument 
grounded on the utility of Religion. Here he maintains on the testimony 
of history and experience that the idea of God and belief in Him have been 
and are potent on the side of righteousness and enlightenment — in other 
words that Theism both furthers and conditions spiritual growth and human 
progress. The idea of God as psychologically determined is next discussed, 
and the grounds set forth for believing in the personality, unity, perfection, 
immanence, and transcendence of the Divine Being. The remaining- 
lectures, which cover the second series, are devoted to emotional, ethical, 
and intellectual Theism. In a bare analysis, such as can be given here, 
it is impossible, however, to do justice to the singularly able and manifold 
ways in which Dr. Davidson handles his subject. The volume is not only 
a model of logical treatment, it is rich in suggestiveness, and cannot fail 
to prove of the utmost value to those who are perplexed by one of the 
greatest questions of the hour. Theologians may learn much from its 
pages, and any one of ordinary intelligence may find in them an abundance 
of instruction conveyed in a most attractive form, and in a way calculated 
Xo enlighten him on one of the greatest and most interesting problems of 
human thought. 

The Earliest Life of Christ ever Compiled from the. Four 
Gospels : Being ' The Diatessaron of Tatian ' literally 
tixinslated from the Arabic Version, and containing the Four 
Gospels woven into One Story, With an Historical and 
Critical Lttroduction, Notes and Appendix. By the Rev. 
J. Hamlyn Hill, B.D. Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark. 

Mr. Hill here follows the text of Ciasco based upon the two Arabic 
MSS., one of which is in the Vatican Libraiy, and the other in the 
Borgian Museum. In a very scholarly Introduction extending over some 
thirty-five pages he gives an account of these MSS., compares them with 
each other, and discusses their relation to their Syriac original and the 
Codex Fuldensis, besides many other points of interest in connection with 
this ancient work. The translation seems to have been made in the first 
instance from Ciasca's Latin version, and then to have been compared with 
and revised from his Arabic text. Apparently, indeed, no eflfort has 
been spared to make the English version represent as closely and literally 

208 Contemporary Literature, 

as possible the Arabic as it proceeded from the hand of Ben-attib, who, 
according to all accounts, made his translation somewhere about the middle 
of the eleventh century, though the original Sjrriac goes back to as early as 
the beginning of the second half of tha second century. The value of the 
Diatessaroii itself is obvious. A merely cursory reading of Mr. Hill's 
pages is sufficient to show that Tatian, who compiled it between the years 
A.D. 159, and a.d. 175, must have had before him our four gospels 
— a fact pretty decisive as to the character of the works to which Justin, 
whose pupil Tatian was, refers . when he speaks of the * Memoirs of the 
Apostles,' as well as to the early date of the Fourth Gospel. Indeed, as Mr. 
Hill points out, these questions are practically settled by the Diatessaron. 
The volume is well supplied with notes and references, and at the end of 
it is a series of valuable appendices containing besides lists of various 
readings etc., the passages from the Diatessaron cited by Ephraem the 
Sjrrian in the course of his commentary upon it. Mr. Hill, in short, has 
discharged his duties as translator and editor in a very scholarly way, and 
has made a valuable contribution to our theological literature. 

Bihlische und Kirchenhistorische Studien, Heften I-IV. Von 
Otto Zochler, A.O. Professor der Theologie an der 
Universitat, Griefswald. MUnchen : Oscar Beoh. Lon- 
don : Williams & Norgate. 1893. 

These five * Studies * are on very varied subjects, yet all connected with 
the development of early Christian doctrine, or, as in the last of its series, 
with problems of Biblical geography and history. The subject matter of 
the first of them — the Apostles' creed will perhaps attract most readily the 
attention of readers to it. It is a subject that has aroused an immense 
amount of interest of late in Germany. Controversy over it has been 
raging at almost more than fever heat for months there, and the echoes of 
that controversy have been occasionally heard here too, and have provoked 
not a little curiosity as to the points in dispute. It began in the spring of 
1892, when Herr Pfarrer Schrempf, of Lenzenrdorf, was being prosecuted 
for heresy. The prosecution ended in his deposition from office there. 
Towards the close of the year Professor Adolf Hamack published in 
pamphlet form, and in answer to a request of certain students, the sub- 
stance of a series of lectures he had delivered on the Apostles* Creed. No 
sooner was his pamphlet issued than a perfect storm arose over it. 
Magazine and newspaper articles, letters, and pamphlets poured forth from 
the evangelical press in a constant and ever swelling stream. His own 
pamphlet, on the other hand, ran through more than twenty editions 
within two months. Professor Zochler soon took part in the fray, and his 
contribution to it may be described as a temperate and scholarly effort to 
adjudicate between the two parties — an effort to carry the controversy out 
of the heat of party feeling into the court of historic fact. He does not 
attempt to go over all the disputed points, but selects some of them, on 
which the prominent leaders in the conflict of opinion have not been care- 
ful enough, as he thinks, to weigh the facts of the case. Against Dr. 
Kattenbusch he sets forth the evidence for the original form of the Creed 
having been in three sections and not in twelve clauses. Against Dr. 
Hamack he marshals the evidences in favour of the Trinitarian content of 
the original Creed, of its emphasising the personality of the Holy Ghost, 
or at least distinctly expressing it, and of its containing the principal 
clauses of the third article. He deals too with the early testimony to the 
incarnation and Virgin birth in the baptismal confessions, and with the 
clauses as to the descent into hell, and the communion of Saints^ and tb^ 

Contemporary /Merature. 209 

additions which distiagaish the later Creed from the old Rooian Creed. 
Finally he touches on the relations existing between the Apostles' Creed and 
the other, especially the oecumenical symbols of the Western Church. His 
essay is an extremely judicious and dispassionate exposition of early 
testimony to the fundamental contents of the Creed as we now have it, and 
we rise from its perusal with the conviction that Dr. Harnack has not 
after all said the last word on this interesting subject. The other studies 
in this series, though on matters of less prominent concern to the life and 
usages of the present hour, are all on themes that are of considerable 
interest to the students of early church history and of the development of 
Christian doctrine. No. 2 e.g. traces the growth of the order of deacons 
and evangelists ; and No. 3 the origin and development of the doctrine in 
the Church of the seven cardinal or deadly sins. In the 4th of these essays 
Dr. Zochler directs attention to an early writer whose influence on the 
thought of his age — the last half of the 4th century — was very considerable, 
but whose name and fame have been strangely overlooked by the later 
historians of the Church, viz., Evagrius, called here 'Evagrius Pontikus ' 
to distinguish him from four others of the same name. He was bom in 
the village of Ibero in the district south of the Black Sea on the upper 
course of the river Scylax. Dr. Zochler gathers up what is recoverable of 
his history, and gives us a summary of his principal tenets, and shows us 
how his influence aflected the direction of Christian doctrine and monkish 
views of Christian life. The last of these studies is described as dealing 
with * three insoluble but fruitful problems of Biblical research.* The 
three problems are as to Eden, Ophir, and the so-called Lost Ten Tribes — 
Ephraim. The whole series of 'studies' is instructive and interesting 
throughout^ and forms a valuable storehouse of historical data on which to 
base our judgments on several somewhat obscure points of early Christian 
doctrine and usage. 

Christian Creeds and Confessions. A short account of the 
Symbolical Books of the Churches and Sects, of Christen- 
dom, and of the Doctrines dependent on them. By G. A. 
GUMLIOH, D.D., Professor of Theology. Translated from 
the German by L. A. Wheatly. London : F. Norgate & 
Co. 1893. 

Mr. Wheatly has done a public service by translating Dr. Gumlich's 
valuable compendium on Christian Creeds and Confessions for English 
readers. A book of this kind has long been a desideratum among us. We 
have several very elaborate works on the subject by scholarly divines, and 
one or two translations of the works of Continental scholars, but they are 
for the most part so elaborate and so technical, that the ordinary reader 
finds them a weariness, and cannot profit by them. The subject, however, 
is an extremely interesting one, and information would be widely welcomed 
regarding the origin and development of creeds, if only it were presented 
in a concise and simple way. Precise knowledge on these points would do 
much to allay the heat which controversy on this subject seems everywhere 
to engender. That heat is almost invariably the result of ignorance on the 
part of either controversialist. Now Dr. Gumlich's volume aims at putting 
the bare facts of creed origin and expansion within the reach of ordinary 
readers. The sources of these facts are indicated where it is necessary to 
do so, so that the statements may be easily verified. The work has been 
most favourably received in Germany, and has exercised considerable 
influence in guiding public opinion and calming public feeling in the dis- 
cussions aroused by the deposition of Pastor Schrempf, and the pamphlet 
XXIII. 14 

210 Contfmporary Literature. 

of Dr. Hamack. Mr. Wheatly's translation is of the third edition, and 
Dr. Gumlich has spared no pains to make this third edition as complete a» 
possible. The translation is so well done that it reads like an original 
English work. There are no obscure sentences in it, and no puazUng 
idioms. The translator has also added several valuable footnotes which 
enhance the serviceableneas of the volume very much. This is especially 
the case in the sections where the creeds and symbolical documents of the 
English and Scottish Churches are referred to. Dr. Gumlich indeed paaaea 
over the latter in silence in the first part of his work, in which he enumer- 
ates the creeds. Mr. Wheatly has here however supplied the omission. 
In the third part of his work, where he describes * the doctrines of the 
most important sects/ Dr. Gumlich speaks more fully of the doctrinal 
ditferences that divide us in England and Scotland. The chief value of 
his work lies in the bird's eye view it gives of the earlier development 
of creeds, for it is in regard to that period that ignorance chiefly prevails. 
We recommend this little work to tlie attention of all those who wish to 
form a rational opinion ou the origin and gprowth of creeds, and to estimate 
the value of the latter to the Ohristain Faith. 

The Church of England and Recent Religious T/iought By 
Charles A. W hittuok, M. A. Loudon and New York : 
Macmillan & Co. 1893. 

Mr. Wliittuck has a large grasp of his subject, and treats it with 
enlightened prudence and considerable insight. His object is not 
polemical, but expository, and the thought with which he deals is not 
speculative, but rather the currents of average thought, social as well as- 
religious, existing in and around the English Church. His aim may in 
fact be said to be to describe the position into which the Church of 
England has either by the force of circumstances or by the process of its 
natural development, or by both causes working together, been gradually 
brought during the last twenty-five or thirty years, and to exMbit the 
wider possibilities now opening before it, together with the helps and 
hindrances to their realization. That a great change has come over 
the English Church during the period referred to there can be no 
doubt. It is now very far from being what it was, and is apparently 
undergoing considerable changes, or at least preparing for them. One 
admission made by Mr. Whittuck we were scarcely prepared for, and that 
is that the Churcli is not attracting more than it was wont into its fold. 
' The fact is,' he says, * that the Church of England has not of late years 
attracted a greater number of people, but that to those whom she does 
attract she has made herself more attractive.' The latter assertion cannot, 
we imagine, be doubted, but the former is one which most people will be 
disposed to question. However, Mr. Whittuck is so cautious a writer that 
we caimot but suppose that he has good ground for his assertion, and that 
the increased activity of the Church, and its multiplication of churches^ do 
not indicate what they are usually believed to indicate. Among the 
points Mr. Whittuck is at great pains to bring out are, the growth of 
uniformity, the decadence of parties and party spirit, the increase of 
tolerance and the growth of the power of the laity. The clergy, he 
points out, have tended to become a separate and distinct class, without, 
however, tending to become supreme. * The peculiar characteristic of the 
Anglican clergy at the present time,' he remarks, *is that they have 
tended in the tirst of these directions without their acquiring for them- 
selves supremacy or ascendancy. * * The supreme class in the Church of 
England at the present time,' he further remarks, * is the church laity.* 

Contemporary Literature, 211 

' It is the ecclesiastically minded portion of the community,* he goes on 
to say, * who exercise the real control over the Church through the Church 
clergy as their representatives. * He further makes the significant remark, 
that in many of the churches of the Church of England there has been 
and still is a considerable development of Congregationalism, or of Congre- 
gational principles, and that the tendency in many is to stand almost 
alone. On the other hand, the hope of the Church, he believes, lies in a 
different direction — not in isolated but in united efforts. In the chapter 
dealing with Dissent and Nonconformity, Mr. Whittuck sets aside as far 
as possible all bias, and treats of the history and condition of the Non- 
conforming Churches with evident fairness and impartiality. As for a 
nearer approach between Churchmen and Dissenters, this Mr. Whittuck is 
of opinion is at present too remote a possibility to be worth considering. 
Neither party he believes is as yet ready for it, though in respect to the 
more liberal of the Dissenters he believes that their conciliation and union 
with the English Church is by no means beset with insuperable difficulties. 
The chapters dealing with the alienated classes are deserving of careful 
study, and not less so the section on Theology. To those who wish to 
gain an insight into the present religious condition of England the volume 
may be commended. It is written in a calm and judicial spirit, and is 
evidently the result of wide observation and patient study. 

Selections from Early Writers Illustrative of Church History to 
the time of Constantine, By Henry Melville Gwatkin, 
M.A., Dixie Professor of Ecclesiastical History, Cambridge. 
London and New York : Macmillan & Co. 1893. 

In this time-saving age, when time passes so swiftly and duties press so 
heavily upon the student as well as upon the layman, this handy little 
volume will prove itself a great convenience to all for whom it has been 
specially devised. Most students, at least theological students, have felt 
the want of such a volume, and remember with anything but pleasure the 
time spent in looking up passages which, according to all rules, they ought 
to have known, but did not, or on which they ought to have been able to 
lay their hands without difficulty, but were unable, owing to the fact that they 
were for the most part hid away in expensive volumes, which they could not 
consult without making a journey to a library more amply furnished than 
their own. By a happy inspiration Mr. Gwatkin has here furnished them 
with the main passages usually cited, or used, or relied on, from the Christian 
writers down to the time of Constantine. They are well chosen, and so 
far as we have examined them, well translated. The first is the descrip- 
tion given by Tacitus of the Neronian Persecution ; the last is the account 
given by Eusebius of Constantino's vision of the Cross. Between these 
we have the passages usually cited from Clement of Rome, Justin, IrenaBUs, 
Clement of Alexandria, Origen, Cyprian, TertuUian, and others of the 
early Christian writers. Specially numerous are those bearing upon the 
Canon of the New Testament which include the fragment of Muratori. A 
similar selection from the later writers would prove acceptable, or say from 
St. Augustine alone, or even St. Thomas Aquinas. 

A Short History of the English People. By J. R. Green, M.A. 
Illustrated Edition. Edited by Mrs. J. R. GREEN and 
Miss Kate Norgate. Vol. III. London and New York: 
Macmillan & Co. 1893. 

This volume brings the history down to the year 1673, and covers the 

212 Contemporary Literature. 

whole of the Puritan ])orio(l and the greater part of the reign of Charles IL 
Like the two preceding volumes, it is ahnndantly and handsomely illus- 
trated) the illustrations as in the other volumes having been selected with 
tact and executed with considerable skill. The principal illustration, 
wltich forms the frontispiece to the volume, is a handsome coloured repre- 
sentation of Old London Bridge from a unique drawing in Pepys's Collec- 
tion in Magdalen College, Cambridge. It is well executed and extremely 
quaint and interesting. The portraits are as before numerous and indnde 
those of the chief men of the period. Among other illustrations we have a 
number of caricatures and representations of the various trades. Several 
maps are also given, as well as a number of battle pieces, several sketcheSy 
representations of costumes, historical scenes and historical houses. Al- 
together the volume is quite equal to either of its predecessors, and carries 
out the intention of its editors of making the pictorial throw light upon 
the text and add to its interest. 

The History of Civilisation in Scotland, By JOHN MACINTOSH, 
LL.D. A New Edition. Vol. XL Paisley and London : 
Alex. Gardner. 1893. 

This volume of Dr. Macintosh's new edition of his History is a great 
improvement upon the first. The revision has been more thorough. 
Many errors have been corrected, more attention has been paid to the 
style, and here and there are signs of condensation, while the foot notes 
have been made more complete and bear evidence that fresh authorities 
have been consulted. That it is perfect we do not say ; but this may bo 
fairly said that in almost every respect the volume is superior to its 
predecessor, while as compared with its own original it is greatly superior. 
The whole of the volume may be said to be devoted to the period of the 
Reformation. The first and second chapters deal with the rise and progress 
of that movement, more particularly in Scotland ; the third with the 
organisation and creed of the Reformed Church ; the fourth, with the 
political and religious history of the country during the reign of the 
unfortunate Queen Mary ; the fifth and sixth with the developments of 
Protestantism ; and the seventh, with the social condition of the country 
in the sixteenth century both before and after the Reformation. The two 
chapters which follow are devoted to the history of the literature of the 
country both before and after the great change in its religion, and the next 
to the state of Education and Art during the sixteenth century, and in 
conclusion we have a brief chapter treating of the ultimate problem of the 
Reformation. The whole of the chapters fill close on five hundred closely 
printed pages and as will be readily inferred Dr. Macintosh's treatment of 
his subject is very elaborate. The period is one of great difficulty and 
involves many points of controversy. The author's endeavours to be fair 
and impartial are conspicuous. That his opinions will be always accepted 
cannot be looked for. His own leanings are not hard to discover ; still 
the moderation with which he generally writes and after which he seems 
to be always striving is commendable. The book is valuable^ however, 
chiefly for its vast array of facts and references. 

Old Court'Life in France. By FRANCES ELLIOT. 2 vols. G. 
P. Putnam's & Sons : New York and London. 

These volumes were originally published in America some twenty yean 
ago, where they have been well received, having sold through four editions. 
There is no reason why they should not be quite as popular, if not more 

Contemporary Literature. 213 

so, on this side of the Atlantic. They are well printed, abundantly illus- 
trated, and written with rare skill. The aim which Mrs. Elliot has had in 
view is to describe the court-life of France from Francis I. to Louis XIY. 
For her materials she has gone to the memoirs which fill so large a place in 
French literature, and which many find to possess a greater interest than 
the histories of France. Nor need it be wondered that they do. Were 
there no other reasons, and as every reader of them is aware there are 
plenty, the memoires pour servir are much more detailed and personal than 
most histories, even the most elaborate, usually are. That Mrs. Elliot's 
volumes are piquant it is almost unnecessary to say. They are abundantly 
personal, and disclose a state of morals and society, in high quarters, which 
in the present would hardly be tolerated. It is not for this, however, that 
we call attention to them, but for the skill with which they are executed. 
Each chapter is a brilliant picture. The characters represented are by no 
means of the best ; many of them are a long way from being commendable 
or even passable ; but the skill with which they are portrayed is remark- 
able. Besides, true to life as the pictures are, the situations in them are 
often in the highest degree dramatic, if not sensational, and few books of 
fiction have anything like the same fascination about them. 

Marchmont and the Humes of Polwarth. By one of their Des- 
cendants. Edinburgh and London : William Blackwood 
& Sons. 1894. 

The Humes of Polwarth have long been celebrated in the country, and 
have left their mark upon its history. The little village from which they 
take their title lies nestling in the heart of Berwickshire, midway between 
Duns and Greenlaw, and is famous in ballad and song. Its origin goes 
back beyond tradition, and during its somewhat chequered career four 
families, the Polwarth, Sinclair, Hume, and Purves-Hume-Campbell, have 
succeeded each other in its heritage. The Polwarths seem to have 
established themselves there before the year 900. They were the builders 
of the ancient Church dedicated to St. Mungo, subsequently restored and 
enlarged by the first Earl of Marchmont, and had for their residence the 
Castle of Polwarth, which stood half-way between the Church and the 
village, where a clump of Scotch firs in the field to the east of the road 
still marks its site. The first mention of their name in a charter occurs in 
the time of Alexander II., (1214-1249), towards the close of whose reign 
Adam de Polwarth received the lands of Beith from Sir Alexander 
Seatoun, of Wiutoun, in frank marriage with Eva his sister. From the 
Polwarths the family property passed by marriage into the Sinclair family. 
Patrick Hume, grandson of Sir David Hume, son of Sir Thomas Hume, 
seventh in descent from the famous Oospatrick, third Earl of Dunbar, 
married Margaret Sinclair, who brought with her the lands of Polwarth as 
her dowry. Her husband is reckoned the first Baron of Polwarth of the 
Hume family. Sir Patrick the eighth Baron of Polwarth had a remark- 
able history, and proved himself the most distinguished member of the 
house to which he belonged. He took a prominent part in the politics of 
his time, and during the reign of James YII. was obliged to flee from the 
country. This was in September 3684. Two years later his estates were 
confiscated and given to Lord Seaforth. Like many others he sought 
refuge in Holland. In 1688 he returned with William of Orange, by whom 
for his services he was created Earl of Marchmont in 1697. It is of him 
and his descendants and their family connections that Miss Warrender has 
chiefly written, tier narrative is excellently written, and with adequate 
research. On several points her researches have enabled her to correct 

214 Contemporary Literature, 

the statements of previous writers. Miss Warrender has also much to tell 
about others than the Humes of Polwarth, and here and there one catches 
f2:limpses of the manners and customs, superstitions and beliefs of times 
gone by. The volume is admirably printed and excellently illustrated, 
and deserves to be regarded as a beautiful memorial of a noble house. 

Napoleon. Warrior and Ruler ^ and the Military Supremacy of 

Revolutionary France. By WiLLIAM 0'('ONNOR MORRIS. 

London and New York : G. P. Putnam's 8ons. 1893. 

This last addition to the vast mass of literature which has gathered 
around the name of Napoleon, though not written by a soldier, will be 
read, we should say, with not a little curiosity. Certainly no reader will 
complain of it on the score of want of attractiveness. Mr. Morris is too 
accomplished a writer, and too well versed in Napoleonic lore to allow the 
interest of a single page to flag. Here and there are signs that he has felt 
himself overburthened with a plethora of material and here and there also 
the signs of self-restraint are evident. But considering the limited space 
at his disposal, and the vast mass of materials with which he had to deal, 
Mr. Morris may be congratulated on the result of his work. Many things 
have of course had to be omitted, but taking the volume all in all, it is really 
a brilliant performance, and presents the life of Napoleon within manage- 
able limits and with a sufficiency of detail to satisfy all but the profes- 
sional reader. That Mr. Morris feels, as he points out others have felt, 
the fascination of Napoleon need hardly be said. His own sympathies or 
proclivities, if we may say so, have a decidedly military tendency about 
them, and he is almost wholly on the side of the victor of Areola and 
Marengo. At the same time, he is quite conscious that along with splendid 
qualities there were associated in Napoleon great faults, and he does not 
hesitate to denounce in vigorous language his ambition, selfishness, and 
arrogance. *" His chief intellectual gSts,' he says, ' were an imagination of 
wonderful force ; a power of calculation that embraced everything, and 
yet grasped the smallest detail, the master faculty of always perceiving the 
dominant fact in what was before him, of separating from it what was 
subordinate, and of seeing how it could be turned to account ; and admir- 
able celerity and keenness of thought. ' His moral faculties, he believes, 
were not less remarkable. Among these he notices, 'ambition that nothing 
could satisfy ; self-confidence that received no check from experience ; in- 
defatigable energy that never tired ; a devouring passion to achieve 
greatness, to do mighty deeds, to acquire renown ; decision, firmness and 
strength of character ; dexterity and adroitness in difficult crises, and the 
power of concealing whatever designs or purposes were formed ; and, very 
distinctly, a profound contempt for the great mass of ordinary men, a 
belief that the world is ruled by force, a conviction that genius can accom- 
plish anything.' That he was unscrupulous, he frankly admits, as also, 
that while disposed to shrink from cruelty, when ambition was striving to 
gain its objects, he appeared to be indifferent to human suffering. Great 
as a soldier, Mr. Morris is of opinion that Napoleon was great also, though 
not equally so, as a ruler, an opinion in which most will concur. As might 
be expected, Mr. Morris criticises very freely the military skill both of 
Napoleon and of the generals opposed to him. Sufficient justice is perhaps 
not done to Blucher and Wellington in the Waterloo campaign, or to the 
combination which led to the first capture of Paris. These matters, how- 
ever, we must leave to Mr. Morris's military critics. Our business here is 
rather with his volume as Jiterature, and as a popular account of the great 
Oorsican, we have no hesitation in saying that it easily holds the first 

Contemporary Literature, 215 

The Brontes in Ireland^ or Facts stranger than Fiction, By Dr. 
William Wright. Loudon: Hodder & Stoughton. 

Though the Irish origin of the Bronte family has been well known, none 
of the biographers of the novelists has been able to give any account of its 
history prior to the settlement of Patrick Bronte in England, or earlier 
than his appearance at Cambridge. Attempts to ascertain something about 
it have been made, but hitherto they have failed. To those who take an 
interest in the authors of Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights^ Dr. William 
Wright's volume will therefore come as a sort of revelation. After patient 
research and study, assisted by his own early recollections, he has been 
enabled to gather together the oral traditions of the family in Ireland, and 
to piece them together into something like a connected narrative. At the 
same time, with the materials he has gathered, he has been able to dissi- 
pate many of the speculations as to whence Charlotte and Emily Bronte 
drew the materials they worked up in their novels, and to trace the 
characters which figure on their pages to their originals. Speaking of the 
Brontes in Ireland, he remarks : ' The Brontes were not in the habit of 
reading novels, they acted them ; ' and if what he has here written be fact, 
and there does not seem to be the slightest reason for doubting that it is, 
the remark is true, and the truth about the Bronte family is in reality 
stranger than fiction. A more romantic career than that of Hugh Bronte, 
the grandfather of Charlotte, was never conceived. Dr. Wright tells it 
with skill, and though he has left out what we take to be some of the more 
sensational passages as not sufficiently supported by evidence, we do not 
wonder that of all the stories for the telling of which Hugh was famous, 
there was none which his neighbours so much liked to hear him narrate as 
that of his own midnight journeys to the house of the family fiend, of the 
brutal usage he received at his hands, and of his fight with Gallagher, the 
lago of the family, and his subsequent flight and escape. Equally 
romantic is the story of his courtship and marriage. Patrick's career, 
though less strange, was nevertheless remarkable. But for this and much 
else we must refer the reader to Dr. Wright's pages. They open up an 
hitherto unread chapter in the social history of Ireland as well as bring to 
light the flesh and blood originals of Heathclifle, Joseph, Edgar, and 
Catherine Linton, and of others who figure upon the canvasses of Jatie 
Eyre and Wuthering Heights^ and show them living and moving not upon 
Yorkshire, but upon Irish ground. 

The Growth and Influence of Classical Greek Poetry, Lectures 
delivered in 1892 on the Percy TurnbuU Memorial Founda- 
tion in the Johns Hopkins University. By R. C. Jebb, 
Litt. D., M.P., Regius Professor of Greek in the University 
of Cambridge. London and New York : Macmillan & Co. 

The Johns Hopkins University is to be congratulated on securing the 
services of two such men as Mr. Stedman and Professor Jebb as the two 
first lecturers on its Percy TurnbuU Memorial Foundation. The Founda- 
tion is similar to the Chair of Poetry at Oxford, and bids fair to rival it in 
utility. At any rate, it has begun well, and there is no reason why it 
should not fulfil the promise it evidently bears, and serve the purposes 
which its founders had in view. Professor Jebb is the second lecturer 
upon the Foundation, Mr. E. C. Stedman having been the first. The 

216 Contemporary Literature, 

latter took for Lis subject ' The Nature and Elements of Poetry.* Chrono- 
logically, the second lecturer oueht probably to have dealt witii the poetry 
of the older Aryan peoples or with such poetry as has survived from pre- 
Homeric times. Still, the influence which this has had upon European 
thought is so slight or imperceptible, that the Trustees were amply justified 
in passing it over, at least for the present, and selecting in its stead as the 
subject for the second course ' The Growth and Influence of Classical Greek 
Poetry.' The literature of Europe, as Mr. Jebb remarks, begins with the 
Homeric poems. They form a convenient point from which to work back- 
ward and forward — backward into the obscurities of pre-Homerio times, 
and forward among the subseouent literatures of Greece, Rome, and modem 
times. Their characteristic, nowever, is that they indicate the appearance 
of a new force in the ancient world — a force which is not yet spent, but is 
still developing. Mr. Jebb's first aim is to show what this force was. As- 
signing the composition of the Iliad and Odyssey to the tenth century B.O., 
a date, as recent criticism has shown, by no means too early, he first sketches 
the civilisations of Egypt, Babylonia, and Assyria, and of the Phoenicians, 
and then taking as his text the Homeric poems, shows in what respects 
the Hellenic civilisation was different. Into the question of the composi- 
tion or compilation of these poems he does not enter. He regards them 
as the first articulate utterances of the Hellenic race, and using them as 
indicating the characteristics of the Hellenic mind, finds in them the ' pro- 
mise and potency ' of what the Greeks afterwards became. As to the manner 
in which this is done nothing need be said. A single citation will shew how 
admirably the words of the blind poet are interpreted. The author is 
speaking of the contrast between the Oriental and the Greek mind. ' Now 
leave,' he says, ' the monuments of the Egyptian temple or the Assyrian 
palace, and turn to the pages of the Iliad and the Odyssey. At once we 
are in the open air, and in the sunshine of a natural life. The human 
faculties have free play in word and deed. All the movement, all the 
beauty and the joy of the outward world, are observed with a spontaneous 
freshness of interest and delight. No trammels of rigid tradition check 
the utterance of human feeling, or silence the thoughts awakened by the 
known or unknown conditions of mortal destiny. Achilles, with his bril- 
liant prowess, his chivalry, his fervour of wrath and of affection, his fine 
sensibility to the soothing or strengthening counsels of the gods, and his 
presage, even when his glory is in- the zenith, of a premature death ; 
Andromache, parting from Hector, when he goes forth to battle, and vainly 
awaiting his return ; Nausicaa, playing at ball with her maidens, and guid- 
ing Odysseus towards the city of her father ; Odysseus and Penelope — 
these are creations that have held the world ever since with a charm 
which, so far as we know, they first revealed — the charm of truth to 
nature, united with an artistic sense of what is beautiful and pathetic in 
human life. The Hellene may not have been the first of maiikind who 
felt these things, but he was the first who, feeling them, was able to express 
them.' Mr. Jebb next remarks on the Greek's fearless desire of know- 
ledge, his sense of the shortness of life, and the way in which the Greek 
language *' responds, with happy elasticity, to every demand of the Greek 
intellect.' In his second lecture Mr. Jebb deals with the Epic poetry of 
the Greeks, comparing it with the Epic poems of later times. As for its 
object he remarks — ' The supreme and distinctive work of the Homeric 
poet was to body forth those human types in which the HeUenic race re- 
cognised its own ideals, and in contemplating which it became conscious 
of itself.' Not the successes won Ji>y Achilles, he remarks,! but Achillea 
himself, not the Adventures of Odysseus but Odysseus hims^f, make the 
Iliad and the Odyssey all that they were to the Greeks. F(^llowing Mr. 


Contemporary Literature. 217 

Matthew Arnold, he takes as the four cardinal qualities of 'Homer — ^plain- 
ness of thought, plainness of style, nobleness, and rapidity — and illustrates 
these qualities by several sin^larly well chosen passages. After the Epic, 
Mr. Jebb proceeds to deal with the lyrical poetry of Greece, discussing its 
form and popularity, and regarding the two centuries, from 650 B.o. to 
450 B.C., as, roughly speaking, the period during which it flourished. 
After an admirable lecture on Pindar, we have two which are devoted to 
the Attic drama, while the concluding lecture is taken up with a discussion 
as to the permanent power of Greek poetry. All through, as will already 
have been noticed, Mr. Jebb's treatment of his subject is purely historical 
and literary. Questions of criticism, such at least as students of Greek 
poetry are usuiJly perplexed with, are left aside. Mr. Jebb treats his 
subject from beginning to end from a broader and more popular point of 
view, and has given us a contribution to the study of this great subject of 
surpassing interest and permanent value. 

Literary Recollections and Sketches. By FRANCIS ESPINASSE. 

London : Hodder & Stoughton. 1893. 

Mr. Espinasse's reminiscences cover a somewhat extended period, the 
first of them carrying us back to the time when ' the Clarinda of Bums's 
rapturous prose and verse was an old lady of eighty, living in solitude and 
seclusion in a quiet little street just round the south-western comer of Oalton 
Hill.' At that time Mr. Espinasse was in the habit of making daily pil- 
grimages to the Edinburgh High School and on his way home used to look 
wistfully at the words ' Mrs. M'Lehose ' on the door-bell of the flat where 
she lived. Once he saw Sir Walter Scott, and was old enough at the time 
to have read the Tales of a Orandfather, His literary recollections date of 
course from a later period, but they begin early enough to take in much of 
what it is now the fashion to call ancient history. All the same they are 
worth reading and will prove of )|iot a little use to future literary historians. 
They are not arranged in chronological order. The paucity of dates is 
perhaps the chief fault of the volume. Still the method adopted in the 
greater part of the volume has its advantages, and accounts for the 
appearance of the word ' Sketches ' on the title-page. The recollections in 
the first three chapters are of a somewhat miscellaneous character, and 
touch upon a variety of topics and individuaJs. The most interesting are 
those in the second of the chapters. Here Mr. Espinasse tells of his em- 
ployment in the compilation of the great catalogue of the British Museum 
Library and has much to say about Panizzi and his own colleagues, 
among whom were several who have since, either in literature or in other 
professions, acquired a considerable reputation. Panizzi and his ninety- 
one rules for the guidance of those who were engaged in the compilation of 
the catalogue do not find much favour with Mr. Espinasse. In illustration 
of some of the absurdities involved in the latter he remarks : ' It has been 
computed that the cost of registering, cataloguing, binding and providing 
space in the shelves for a sheaf of street ballads would keep a poor family 
for a month.' A note at the end of the chapter gives some interesting infor- 
mation respecting the Mudies, and the beginning of what he believes is now 
' the largest circulating library in the world. ' The greater part of the volume, 
however, is devoted to the author's recollections of Mr. and Mrs. Carlyle 
and their circle of more or less intimate friends. Here Mr. Espinasse has 
many new particulars to record. For many years he appears to have been 
on the most intimate terms with the Carlyles, and to have taken mental or 
other notes of their relations with each other and of the people he met as 
their house. Like many others he is far &om satisfied with Mr. Froude'a 

218 Contemporary Literature, 

Life of Carlyle and blames him for not using a long series of letters, now 
preserved in the Kensington Museam, which were written to John Forster 
by Carlyle. These letters it would appear cover a period of some forty 
years beginning with the first acquaintance of Carlyle with Forster and 
continuing down to the latter's death. So far as he is aware Mr. Espinasse 
is himself the only individual who has thoroughly inspected them in 
manuscript. ' A well edited selection from them/ he believes, * would be 
an extremely valuable contribution to Carlyle biography/ inasmuch as 
' they abound with interesting matter respecting some of the later years of 
Carlyle's life, Mr. Fronde's account of which is extremely meagre.' Two 
bundles of the ret^oUections are devoted to G. H. Lewes and George Eliot 
and James Hannay and his friends. The chapters on Lewes and George 
Eliot are a little meagre, but sufficient to bring out the wonderful 
versatility of the former as well as his ambition. As to his relations with 
George Eliot, Mr. Espinasse writes with impartiality and is not by any 
means disposed to excuse them. He lays his finger on the weak point in 
Lewes's character and points out his inconsistencies. Of Hannay and his 
contemporary Bohemians he has much to tell which if not altogether new 
is at least interesting. Mr. Espinasse has also much to tell respecting his 
own experience as a literary man and as a journalist. • The story of his 
connection with the Edinburgh Courant and the final collapse of that long- 
lived but unfortunate journal will be read by many, at least in Scotland, 
with more than ordinary interest. It is difficult to say indeed what is not 
interesting in his volume. All through the attention is sustained. The 
work is at once entertaining and instructive. As far as possible Mr. 
Espinasse seems to liave divested himself of prejudice and has written 
calmly and dispassionately. The individuals whom one meets with in his 
pages are innumerable, and what the author has to say about them is told 
in a pleasant and attractive way. 

Reality versus Romance in South Central Africa. By James 

Johnston, M.D. Illustrated. London : Hodder & 

Stoughton. 1893. 

Dr. Johnston describes this volume as an account of a journey across 
the continent of Africa, from Benguella on the West through Bihe, 
Ganguella, Barotse, the Kalihari Desert, Mashonaland, Manica, Gorongoza, 
Nyassa, the Shire Highlands, to the mouth of the Zambesi on the East 
Coast. The journey, most of which was done on foot, occupied twenty 
months. During that period he covered a distance of four thousand five 
hundred miles, and though he had to pass through humerous hostile and 
savage tribes, to traverse areas reported too pestilential for exploration, 
and districts never before visited by a white man, he can boast that he 
never once found himself prompted to fire a shot in anger or was compelled 
to do so in self-defence against a human being, and what is probably 
unique in the history of African travel, of the many native carriers he 
employed, he did not lose a single one through death. The object of his 
journey was to test the belief he had formed that black men from Jamaica, 
by reason of their ready adaptability to climatic conditions and supposable 
racial sympathy, could be advantageously employed for the christianization 
and civilization of the African savage tribes ; but firstly and chiefly to 
obtain absolutely correct information concerning that portion of the Dark 
Continent he traversed and the presentation of it to the public. As to the 
black men from Jamaica, he found the belief he had formed respecting 
their suitability for African mission work thoroughly sustained. Of the 
six young men he took with him from Jamaica he found places for four at 
Cisamba, but west of that he found no opening for the remaining two, who 

Contemporary Literature. 219 

ultimately returned home. 'This, of course,* he says, 'has been a sore 
disappointment to me, but has in no way weakened my former conviction 
that, provided white men with sympathy for, and tact in dealing with, the 
coloured race are forthcoming to enter the unbroken and fallow fields of 
the interior, the services of the Jamaicans in manual labour as builders, 
planters, etc., would be found invaluable. In a short time their aptitude 
for acquiring the language would fit them for itinerant evangelists, while 
their colour would give emphasis to their words beyond even those of the 
white teacher, for whom, as the number of concession -hunters and specu- 
lators increases, a marked prejudice in the African mind grows stronger 
year by year.' As to central Africa itself Dr. Johnston has a very different 
story, as the title of his book indicates, to tell. * I don't believe,' he says 
on page 190, ' there is a country under heaven that has been the subject 
of more romancing and misrepresentation than Africa.' The facts which 
he brings in support of this are numerous, and it will be hard to convince 
the reader that there is not a great deal of truth in it. The account which 
the author has to give of the mission stations he met with are not, except 
in one or two instances, encouraging. Many of his statements in connection 
with them will be read by many with something like astonishment. The 
services held at some of the mission stations are well attended when there 
is anything in the shape of a roasted ox to be distributed, but when there 
is not, the congregation dwindles down to, perhaps, a chief, five lads and 
four women. * One young missionary,' we are told, *in his innocence and 
zeal, was so delighted with the long conversations he was having daily 
with three men posing as inquirers, that it formed the subject, meanwhile, 
of a very interesting letter he was writing to friends at home. But near 
the end of the week, the trio, lingering round the door to a later hour 
than usual, were asked why they waited. The answer was prompt. * We 
are waiting for five day's pay.' * Pay for what ?' queried the astonished 
missionary. * Well, now ! Did you think we were coming here every day 
to listen to you for nothing 1 ' The chief obstacle the author believes in 
the way of miRsionary success is not however in the people, but in the 
chiefs and their absolute power over the body and soul of their vassals. 
^ The missionary,' he says, * is ever conscious that while he is speaking, 
the people before him are debating in their own minds, " Were 1 to be- 
come a Christian, what would the chiefs say ? " for well they know that the 
ethics of Christianity are condemnatory of the life, conduct, and character 
of their rulers. ' Dr. Johnston has no very glowing account to give of the 
prospects of agriculture. Indeed, with the exception of one or two dis- 
tricts, what he has to say of the country is all the other way. Equally 
unfavourable is the account which he has to give of the treatment one at 
least of the chiefs, Lewanika, has received at the hands of the British 
South African Company. The story which he has to tell of this is not to 
the credit of the country, and ought to be investigated. We can only say 
in conclusion that it is to be hoped that Dr. Johnston's volume will be read 
by those for whom it is intended. There is a great deal in it which will 
be read with surprise, and the careful consideration of it may be the 
means of saving many valuable lives as well as the squandering of money 
on useless objects. The volume we should add is abundantly and hand- 
somely illustrated. It is also accompanied by a map. 

The English Religious Drama. By KathERINE Lee BATES. 
London and New York : Macrnillan & Co. 1893. 

In this little unpretentious volume we have a valuable contribution to 
the history and criticism of the origins of the English drama. Like all 
others, that drama, as is well known, had its origin in religion ; and the 

220 Contemporary Literature, 

old passion plays, miracle plays and moralities, however crude they may 
seem now, were the beginnings of that splendid literature at the head oS. 
which stand the works of Jr)ns()n, Beaumont, Fletcher, and Shakespeare. 
The difference between Hamlet or Othello and erne of the pageants enacted 
in the streets of York, Coventry, Chester, or Wakefield, is vast, still they 
are intimately connected, and out of the rude efforts of the medisBval play- 
wright may be said to have sprung the consummate art of Macbeth. Their 
past and present relations are admirably touched upon by Miss Bates in 
one or two sentences which are not without considerable beauty. ' The 
history of the European theatre,' she says, * not only west of the Channel, 
but upon the Continent as well, bears resemblance to the history of the 
little English robin, who, as his strength waxes and his breast brightens 
and his song grows tuneful, turns his ungrateful bill against the parents 
who have reared him, so that the misty autumn mornings ring with melo- 
dious defiances and cries of combat between the young birds and the old. 
In like manner the romantic drama, born of the Church and nourished by 
the Church, came in time, as it acquired an independent life and gradually 
passed from sacred to secular uses, to incur the resentful hostility of the 
parent bird, whose plumage its mischievous activity loved to ruffle.* There 
is doubtless much that is crude, grotesque, and even ridiculous in these 
old plays, but there is also in them considerable skill, a good deal of 
genuine human nature, and not infrequently much profound religious 
feeling. The devil was undoubtedly the most popular character, and 
the scenes in which he appeared were the most eagerly expected by 
the crowds who witnessed the pageants, but many of the scenes, as for in- 
stance, those on the Passion, could not fail to be deeply impressive and 
pathetic. At anyrate, they served a good end, if they did naught else 
than familiarise the populace with the various passages in Biblical history, 
and Miss Bates has done well to recall attention to them. Certainly those 
who listened to her lectures could not fail to be charmed with the felicity 
of her diction and exposition, and to feel that she was talking to them on 
a subject with which she was thoroughly well versed and of which she had ' 
a complete grasp. Aiming at giving something like a history of the old 
English Drama, she naturally begins with the old Passion and Saint plays, 
and carries us back almost to the ^ beginning of the Christian era, noticing 
a Scriptural tragedy of the second century, founded upon the narrative in 
the early chapters of Exodus and the curious drama on the Passion of our 
Lord attributed to Gregory of Nazianzus, though it is very doubtful whether 
this tragedy was ever acted, or even so much as intended to be acted. We 
hear much too of Hroswitha, the nun of Gandersheim. Miss Bates 
describes her as ' turning the unholy leaves of Terence with one hand, 
while she kept the other on her beads.' The picture may be correct, but 
it is very doubtful whether the Benedictine nuns were then in the habit 
of using the rosary. An excellent paraphrase of one of the old litur- 
gical dramas written in the early part of the thirteenth century in 
France is given, and a description of the Corpus Christi pageants. 
Coming to the Miracle Plays, Miss Bates gives a very full descrip- 
tion of them, discussing their date and origin, and contrasting them with 
each other. Large use is made of Miss Toulmin Smith's excellent edi- 
tion of the York Plays and their relation to the Towuley or Wakefield 
plays is pointed out. In the course of her lectures Miss Bates indulges 
in much generous criticism, and takes into account both the times in 
which the Plays were written and the audiences for which they were pre- 
pared. She writes with a graphic pen, and one can easily realise from her 
description the pomp and pageantry, the eagerness and rapt attention, 
and withal, the grotesqueness which must have been witnessed, say on 

Contemporary Literature. 221 

Corpus Christi day in York, or on St. Nicholas' day in Aberdeen, wher« 
the pageants were produced and the streets were thronged with excited 
crowds, some intent on edification and others on fun, but all on seeing the 
story of creation and redemption visibly represented before their eyes an9. 
often terminating with the coronation of the Virgin in heaven. Those who 
wish to understand these old dramas and to learn all that is known about 
them cannot do better than turn to Miss Bates's brightly written pages. 
They will find in them much to instruct as well as to entertain them, and 
come across many indications of a state of society which has long since 
passed away. 

Adventures in Maahonaland, By two Hospital Nurses: B.OSE 
Blennerhassett aud Lucy Sleeman. London and New- 
York : Macmillan & Co. 1893. 

This volume of adventures can scarcely fail to attract a large share of 
attention. It appears at an opportune moment, and is full of interest. 
It contains the story of the adventures of two brave women who traversed 
the wilds of Africa almost alone in pursuit of their calling as nurses, and 
tells the difficulties they had to contend with, the risks they ran, and some 
of the work they did. There was abundant need for them, and not a few 
owed their lives to their careful nursing. Several with whom they became 
acquainted died from wounds or fever. Judging from the picture which 
the volume furnishes, life in Mashonaland is not attractive. Fever, 
lions, and starvation seem to be the chief enemies. Even when plentiful 
the rations served out were not of the best. Fever seems to have been 
pretty prevalent and lions numerous, so numerous indeed that one night a 
patient had to be guarded revolver in hand. The march of the two nurses 
up country, was a feat from which strong men might have shrunk. The 
story has the advantage of being told in simple, conversational English, 
and is from first to last intensely interesting. 

A New English Dictionary on Historical Principles^ founded 
mainly on the materials collected by tlie Philological Society. 
Edited by James A. H. Murray, LL.D., D.C.L., etc. 
Part VIIL, Sect. I., Crouchmas — Czech. Oxford : At the 
Clarendon Press. 1893. 

To say anything in commendation of the great work which Dr. Murray 
and his many learned assistants are indefatigably carrying on in the 
Scriptorium at Oxford is unnecessary. It is well known, even though 
not perhaps so often consulted as it might be, and to chronicle its progress 
is a pleasure. The present part concludes both the letter C and the second 
volume. In fact the volume begins and ends with the letter 0, which in 
respect of the space occupied by it in the Dictionary is the second largest 
letter in the alphabet, being exceeded only by S. The niunber of words 
treated under it amount to no fewer than 29,295. They are of all kinds and 
from all sources, amongst others from Celtic, Hebrew, Arabic, Persian, 
Turkish, from various East Indian and other Oriental tongues, and from 
the languages of America and the West Indies. Very many of the words 
are of special interest such for instance as those connected with the history 
of Christianity and with civil and political history. Not the least 
interesting in the present Part are many of the obsolete words, sach for 
instance, as the one with which it opens 'crouchmas,' 'crowner,' 
(coroner), ' crownet,' ' cucking-stool,' ' cude,' though here there is no 
reference to the form ' cude-ciath ' for a chrism-cloth, and ' curch,' but 

222 Contemporary TAterature, 

earlier instances than an}* given may bo found in the Scottish Legends of the 
Saints, Paul 251, 27B. Scottish words are comparatively numerous in this 
Part. That they are admirably treated we need hardly say. Every line 
testifies to the most careful research and to the ripe scholarship which have 
marked the previous parts. 

Dictionnaire de la C^ramigne, Par IIdoUARD GarnieR. Paris : 
Librairie de TArt. 

This is an excellent addition to the series to which it belongs, and will 
prove of great value to collectors and all others who are interested in the 
ceramic art. M. Garnier's name is a sufficient (guarantee for its accuracy. 
The work, indeed, could not have been placed in better hands than in 
those of the learned Keeper of the Museum at Sevres, and the result is a 
volume which is admirably printed, beautifully illustrated and reliable, 
more especially in respect to the signs and signatures with which the more 
distinguished artists in this branch of the fine arts were in the habit of 
using. To the Dictionary itself M. Gamier has prefixed an introduction 
which is all too brief. In it he first sketches the history of what may be 
called ancient pottery, and indicates the nature, composition, and distinc- 
tive characteristics of the different kinds of ceramic manufactures, and 
then gives the history of these, the names of the places where they have 
been or are still carried on, the names of the most distinguished artists 
and producers, and concludes with the history of the manufacture of 
Wedgewood ware and the effect of its free introduction into France. In 
the l3ictionary the names of the artists are arranged alphabetically. A 
short sketch of the life of each, noting his principal work or its character- 
istic features, is given together with, in most instances, the sign or signature 
he used, while at the end we have a separate list of marks and monograms 
and figurative marks. The coloured plates are executed with a delicacy 
and beauty of colouring which we in this country do not seem to be able 
to touch. 

A short Account of the Land Revenue and its Administration in 
British India ; with a Sketch of the Land Tenures. By B. 
H. Baden-Powell, CLE., F.R.S.E., M.R.A.S. Map. 
Oxford : At the Clarendon Press. 1894. 

To the general reader desirous of informiug himself as to how India is 
governed as well as to those who are about to take a practical and personal 
share in carrying on the business of Indian affairs this little volume is 
likely to prove of exceptional value. Within the compass of about 250 
pages it contains an admirably l\^cid, though condensed, account of the 
Land Revenue System of British India, to gain a knowledge of which is to 
acquire a greater knowledge of the government of that country than is to 
be obtained in any other way. The standard work on the subject is of 
course Mr. Baden-PowelFs monumental Laiid /System of India, a work to 
which all who wish to be thoroughly informed in the matter will ultimately 
go, and to which frequent reference is of necessity made. Here, however, 
the author has in view those who have not the time or leisure or desire to 
do more than acquire a knowledi^^e of the leading principles, or to be en- 
lightened as to those portions of Revenue work which bear directly on 
their own particular duties. The volume is distributed into two parts, in 
the first of which we have five, and in the second four chapters. The first 
part entitled ' General conception of the Land Revenue,' treats in the first, 
of the features, such as the climates, soil and products of the country, and 

Contemporary Literature. 223 

the organisation of its provinces and districts with reference to the Land 
Kevenue. Then the answer is given to the question what is the Land 
Be venue ? while in the last chapter of this part the various kinds of land 
are defined, such as those which are liable to pay the land revenue and 
those which are not, a concluding section being given to the definition of 
' waste lands ' and the rules for their disposal. The second part bears the 
general title — The Land Tenures and the Land Revenue Systems. Here 
the various kinds of tenures are described, namely, the village and Land- 
lord Estates other than village-estates, how the land revenue is at present 
assessed, how it is collected and how the general business connected with 
its management is conducted. From beginning to end the work is 
thoroughly practical. Many passages are historical, but the necessity for 
their insertion is obvious. They throw light upon the existing system of 
things. At the same time they have an intrinsic interest of their own. 
In dealing with the village-communities, the author puts in a caution 
against the too ready acceptance of the ideas of many modem writers as to 
origin of the forms of village, and indicates those which have been 
suggested to his own mind. * There is no evidence,' he says, * of any 
pre- Aryan, or other really primaeval, holding " in common," or of a joint 
holding of land as a general practice,' such as is maintained to have been 
the case in Germany and France by M. Fustel de Coulanges and other 
writers. Much of the information in the volume is very curious, while 
here and there indications are given of what the government is doing for 
the promotion of the material prosperity of the people. As a handbook on 
the subjects with which it deals nothing can be better. It is admirable in 
every respect. 

Golf I A Royal and Ancient Game. Edited by ROBERT Clark, 
F.R.S.E., F.S.A., Scot. London and New York : Mac- 
millan & Co. 1893. 

Of late years, as the popularity of the game of Golf has increased, and 
spread to almost every corner of the three kingdoms, its literature has 
grown, until now there is something like a small library about it. The 
present volume adds nothing to what already existed, but it is a volume 
which every golfer, who is not already in possession of it, will be glad 
to get. It was first issued in 1875, but being privately printed, the 
number of copies issued was small, and the work has long been out of 
print. There are few old and enthusiastic golfers, however, who have not 
begged, borrowed, or stolen a reading of it whenever they could. For 
those who are not acquainted with it we may say that its contents are 
extremely varied in character. In the first place we have an introduction, 
bright, fresh, and cheery, by the editor. Then follows a most miscellaneous 
assortment of pieces in prose and verse, all bearing on the royal and 
ancient game. Among them is an historical account of the game, going 
back to the early part of the fifteenth century, and showing how towards 
the close of the century it had come to be classed among * unprofitabill 
sportis.' Next comes Mathison's poem, * The Goff,' which is followed, as 
it should be, by extracts from the Record Book of the Honourable Compan/y 
of Golfers. These again are followed by a chapter on the royal and ancient 
Golf Club of St. Andrews, with extracts from the records of the Club. 
There are notices also of the Bruntsfield and other links. The Acts of 
Parliament in which the game is denounced are given together with a 
number of early notices of the game. Alexander M*Kellar, the ' Cock o' 
the Green ' has a chapter all to himself, and is represented by Kay's 
portrait of him. Other papers are, * The links of St. Rule,* ' The Golfer 


224 Contemporary Literature. 

at Home,' H. Grahame's ' A Tale of Gk>lf,' and the TimeM article oo the 
medal daj at St. Andrews. At for the rest, we have certain golfing longt, 
and maoh vene in which the myiteriet of the Royal G^me are extolled. 
The Tolnme is admirably printed and illnatrated. Some of the head and 
tail pieoea are full of hamoar. 



APRIL, 1894. 

Art. L— sir WALTER SCOTT. 

1. The Journal of Sir Walter ScotL Edited by David Douglas. 

2 vols. Edinburgh : 1890. 

2. Familiar Letters of Sir Walter Scott. Edited by David 

Douglas. 2 vols. Edinburgh: 1894. 

3. Abhotsford : the Personal Relics and Antiquarian Treasures of 

Sir Walter Scott. By the Hon. Mary Monica Maxwell- 
Scott of Abbotsford. London : 1894. 

* rpHE public has nothing to do with the misfortunes of 
' JL authors/ said Dr. Johnson. Possibly the stem old 
moralist was theoretically correct, though his sentiment is one 
in which the public has never shared. It is doubtless true that 
a literary work should be able to stand upon its own merits apart 
from the life-history of its author ; but from the glimmering 
dawn of letters until its present noontide splendour, the world 
has ever taken a deep interest in the fortunes and misfortunes of 
authors, and will continue to do so while literature endures. We 
may read Rasselas, PrinceofAbyssiniaj with pleasure and pro- 
fit, even though we do not know that the wonderful story was 
written by Johnson in extreme poverty, for the purpose of gain- 
XXIII. 15 

226 Sir \^'alte^ Scott. 

ing a small sum that he might give his mother a decent funeral ; 
but surely our knowledge of that fact will supply additional 
interest in its perusal, and lead us to esteem the man as well as 
the author. Nor will the immortal * Dictionary ' be less useful, 
if we remember that the greater portion of the money which it 
brought to Johnson was expended in supporting the strangely 
incongruous household of pensioners which he had brought to 
his Ark at Bolt Court — Levet, the ruined physician, Frank, the 
emancipated slave, Anne Williams, the blind termagant, and 
Mrs. Desmoulins, the helpless widow, — and whose vagaries he 
endured uncomplainingly for many years. It may be wrong for 
the public to enquire as to these petty details, and even to take 
an interest in Dr. Johnson's own Lives of the PoetSy in which 
many misfortunes are related ; but literary biographies will be 
written and read with avidity until some vast cataclysm destroys 
the foundations of society. Indeed, the thirst for personal 
gossip about literary men has increased so much of ]ate that it is 
becoming positively alarming, and mediocre authors have learned 
the art of utilizing this craze for log-rolling purposes. These are 
the authors of wliose misfortunes or successes we might be content 
to remain ignorant. But there are poets and prose-writers en- 
shrined in the Temple of Fame, regarding whom the slightest 
personal details are of much interest, and from whose most 
severe reverses pregnant lessons may be drawn. Amongst these 
dignitaries of literature Sir Walter Scott stands pre-eminent, 
and the publication of the works now under notice supply verit- 
able material for the judgment of posterity upon him alike as a 
man and as an author. 

There is not, perhaps, in the whole range of recent British 
literature, a writer whose private life will bear the searching 
scrutiny that may now be applied to Sir Walter Scott, withont 
altering the reader's estimate of the man. Take any of 'the 
leading litterateurs of the century who have had the ill-fortune to 
be biographized with some measure of completeness, and the 
contrast is painfully apparent. The picture of Charles Dickens 
posturing and attitudinizing before his future biographer, and 
telling how he is to relate this incident and temper that episode^ 
is not an edifying one. Bulwer Lytton, with his finical desire. 

Sir Walter Scott. 227 

' still to be neat, still to be dressed/ and his longing to go down 
to posterity as a well-groomed Baronet who could actually 
translate the Odes of Horace, is not an attractive spectacle. 
George Eliot's strange revolt against the fundamental customs 
of modern societv does not increase our esteem for her marvellous 
literary power. Thackeray's life has not been written as Scott's 
is now related, and possibly he would stand higher than he does 
were such an intimate acquaintance with his inner thoughts 
available ; but he would be bold indeed who would assert that the 
revelation of Carlyle's private career, with all its cantankerous 
criticism, is bound to elevate that sturdy Scotsman's fame. And 
if we go further back in history, the diflSculty increases. Who 
would now care to read the wretched record of debauchery 
that made up the life of Fielding; the melancholy details of 
Swift's home-circle ; the prurient incidents in Smollett's career ? 
To all th^se, Scott's life, as depicted in his Familiar Letters 
and JouimaU is as opposite as the effulgence of noonday to the 
mirkest midnight. From Scott's writings every reader must 
form a very high ideal of the man ; but there is, alas ! so much of 
the ' angel abroad and devil at home ' in the average literary man 
that the acute critic might be prepared for disillusion, and 
expect to find that his idol was clay. To him, therefore, these 
five volumes will be a most agreeable disappointment. He will 
discover from incontestable evidence that Scott of Abbotsford is 
the same high-lhoughted, noble, affectionate, true-hearted man, 
as any of the most estimable of the creatures of his prolific 
imagination. As brave as Fergus M'lvor, as chivalrous as 
Ivanhoe, as earnest as Henry Morton, as shrewd as Andrew 
Fairservice, as pawky as Caleb Balderstone — such is the Walter 
Scott of the Letters and this JournaL Taking the two 
works together, we have practically a connected account of 
Scott's career from 1797 till a few weeks before his death in 
1832, written mostly by his own hand, with no thought of 
publication. The most arrant of hypocrites could not have 
continuously worn a mask and postured for thirty-five years. 

Pious old John Newton of Olney, the friend of WiUiam Cow- 
per, devised the word * cardiphonia,' to express the * heart-utter- 
ances,' the most secret thoughts of a writer; and to this category 

228 Sir Walter Scott. 

the Journal belongs. It was not began till November^ 1825, 
and many a reader will share in the sentiment of the first 
sentences : * I have all my life regretted that I did not keep a 
regular Journal. I have myself lost recollection of much that 
was interesting, and I have deprived my family and the public 
of some curious information by not carrying this resolution into 
effect.' What a vast array of queer experiences, of odd char^ 
acters, of obsolete social customs, of the quips and quiddities that 
enlivened society more than a century ago, would have been pre- 
served had this often-projected Journal been an accomplished 
fact ! Since a period of little over six years, and those the most 
depressing in his whole career, has supplied material for two 
goodly volumes, what might we have expected had he began his 
record in the heyday of his youth, when his faculties were keen, 
and * the world was all before him where to choose ? ' Neverthe- 
less, the lack is to some extent supplied by the ^Familiar 
Letters ' — earlier in date than the * Journal,' though published 
after it — and these taken in conjunction with Lockhart's ZA/e 
of Sir Walter Scott, give nearly all that can now be learned of 
the * Great Unknown.' 

Amongst the unpublished poetry of Zachary Boyd, now pre- 
served in the Glasgow University Library, there is a quaint 
verse, which runs thus : — 

* Our life's a webbe of small and grosse, 
This is us giv'n for doome, 
That sorrowes are as threeds acrosse 
In this oure earthlie loome.' 

This curious quatrain fully characterises the Letters and Journal 
of Sir Walter Scott. The former begins with his proposal of 
marriage, the latter ends with almost his last written words, and 
the space between is filled up with the joys and sorrows of his 
domestic life, his literary aspirations, his unexpected success in 
poetry and prose, his correspondence with the foremost literary 
men and women of the time — in short, with all that makes up 
the private life of one who had a wide circle of acquaintances, 
and who never lost a friend by his own indiscretion. It is, 
moreover, a life filled to overflowing with abundant energy and 
untiring perseverance ; the record of labour that might have em- 

Sir Walter Scott. 229 

ployed patriarchal age, accomplished enduringly within sixty-two 
years. Compared with his work, either in quantity or quality, 
the efforts of modern poets and novelists sink into insignificance. 
He is a Gulliver amongst the Lilliputians ; a phenomenon with- 
out a predecessor, and hitherto without a rival, despite his host of 
imitators. For it is notable of all epoch-making men that they 
spring from no recognisable progenitor. There was (according 
to Andrew Lang) but one Homer; there never has been but one 
Dante, one Shakespeare, one Milton, and one Scott. To estimate 
aright Scott's position as a novelist, the critic must consider the 
character of the novel that was in vogue when he began his 
wonderful career in that department of literatuie. Let tlie 
reader, if he have sufficient antiquarian taste to keep in his book- 
case choice specimens of the literary fossils of this species, ex- 
amine the ponderous array of Ballantyne's Novelist's Library 
edited by Sir Walter Scott in 1823, and he will be able to form 
a fair idea of the low level to which fiction had sunk before 
Waverley was published. He will find prolixity exemplified by 
Richardson's Pamela aid Sir Charles Grandison ; melo- 
dramatic nonsense by Wal pole's Castle of Otranto ; utter 
tediousness by Clara Reeves' Old English Baron; forced senti- 
ment by Henry Mackenzie's Man of Feeling and Julia de 
Roubignh ; ' indelicacy by Sterne's THsiram Shandy, — indeed 
all the qualities that would make a modern novel positively un- 
bearable. It is true that Goldsmith's Vicar of Wakefield had 
attained the position it deserved and has maintained; but in the 
early years of the century, Godwin's Caleb Williams^ with its 
wild improbabilities and frantic nonsense, was more to the taste 
of an age immersed in turbulent politics. At such a time, the 
advent of Waverley was portentous. Like Gay's * Beggar's 
Opera,' it was bound ^ to succeed amazingly, or to be damned 
confoundedly.' It did succeed. The age was rescued from the 
depths of bathos. An eia was beirun in fiction, and from 1814 
till 1 832 a brilliant succession of novels came from Scott's pen, 
which have pervaded the 1 terature of Al civilized nations, and 
conferred undying faii.e upon their author. 

Yet, in the midst oF all this glory and renown, Scott had to 
endure his fult share of domestic trials, and it is to these that 

230 Sir Walter Scott. 

the Letters and Joarnal introduce us. He had gained fame in 
the early part of his literary career solely by his poetry, the only 
productions cf his pen which he acknowledged from the first ; 
but bis Letters to the few correspondents who knew the secret of 
the authorship of Waverley^ show how deeply, yet unobtrusively 
gratified he was, by the praise so spontaneously bestowed upon 
the anonymous novelist. Critics have been divided as to the 
comparative merits of his poetry and prose. Dr. Samuel Parr, 
that pinchbeck imitation of Dr. Johnson — another, but a greater, 
Samuel — declared his judgment in these terms : ' As to Walter 
Scott, his jingle will not outlive the next century. It is namby- 
pamby.' Commenting on this oracular utterance, De Quincey — 
no mean critic — wrote thus : * Discussing Sir Walter's merits as 
a poet, there is room, undeniably, for wide difference of estimates. 
But he that can affect blindness to the brilliancy of his claims as 
a novelist, and generally as to the extraordinary grace of his 
prose, must be incapacitated for the meanest functions of a critic 
by original dulness of sensibility.' Regarding the poetry of 
Scott, it should be remembered that, with all its imperfections, it 
was not forced into notice. The success which attended The 
Lay of the Last Minstrel was not due to the noble patronage 
of the Buccleugh family, though its author, like a loyal Border 
clansman, esteemed highly the notice of the chief of the Scotts. 
The sublime art of lo^-rolling had not been devised in the 
youthful yeari of this wonderful nineteenth century, and bud- 
ding poets, mindful of the fate of Kobert Burns under the 
patronage of Edinburgh haut ton^ rather looked askance upon 
noble aid. But the real secret of the success of Scott as a poet 
was that he strung his Itarp to unwonted measures, and treated 
loftv themes in an elevated style. The Rudeness of Border 
minstrelsy was shown capable of refinement ; and the patriotic 
ring in the immortal Lay of the Ixist Minstrel accorded well 
with the spirit of the time when a wave of enthusiastic patriotism 
was sweeping over the land. That forgotten poetaster, Aaron 
Hill, in one of his letters to Richardson the noyelist, makes the 
acute remark that * it is pleasant to observe the justice of forced 
fame ; she lets down those at once who got themselves pushed 
upward, and lifts none above the fear of falling but a few who 

Sir Walter Scott, 231 

never teazed her.' Surelv this dictum has been reah'zed in the 
case of Walter Scott. However defective his poetry might be 
compared with his prose — and his friend Francis Jeffrey did not 
fail to point out its weakness — it brought him immediately into 
the front rank of conteitporary bards, and the dignified style in 
which he enunciated noble sentiments thrilled the hearts of his 

* The past was his — his generous song 

Went back to other days, 
With filial feeling, which still sees 

Something to love and praise, 
And closer drew the ties that bind 
Man with his country and his kind. 

It rang throughout his native land, 

A bold and stirring song. 
As the merle's hymn at matin sweet, 

And as the trumpet strong ; 
A touch there was of each degree, 
Half minstrel and half knight was he.' 

It was not until 1827 that Scott publicly acknowledged him- 
self as the author of the Waverlev Novels, but the Letters dis- 
close that he had communicated his secret to several trusted cor- 
respondents. In the inner circle of his acquaintances his little 
mystery could not be kept quite obscure, and many tales have 
circulated — with greater or lesser verity — on this subject. For 
instance, it has been stated that as the novels came out he had 
each bound for his own library, with the back-lettering ' Scott's 
Novels.* One day the Ettrick Shepherd, looking through the 
shelves of the bookcase, came upon these, and pointed to them, 
with a merry twinkle in his eye. * Oh ! ' said Sir Walter, in 
reply to the suggested query, ' the stupid book-binder has put an 
extra letter in the title. It should have read '^ Scots Novels." ' 
' Ah I sir,' answered the Shepherd with a smile, ' I'm ower auld 
a cat to draw that strae afore.* But though his friends might 
suspect his share in the Waverley Novels, it is only from the 
Letters that we learn the real confidants of his secret. The sub- 
title of ' Waverley ; or 'Tis Sixty Years Since,' clearly indicates 
that Scott had begun to write this novel in 1805, at the very 
time when his *Lay of the Last Minstrel' had brought him 

232 Sir Walter Scott. 

much renown. Curiously enough, the critics have omitted to 
notice that this sub-title confirms his own story of having thrown 
asido the unfinished manuscript in that year, and of his acci- 
dentally discovering it years afterwards in an old bureau that 
had been' relegated to a lumber room. WaverUy was not 
published till 1814, and though the sub-title, to be arithmetically 
correct, should have read, * 'Tis Sixty-nine Years Since,' Scott 
was too poetical to make this matter-of-fact change. Much in- 
formation as to the successive novels, and the opinions of the 
author and his correspondents regarding them, are to be found 
in the Letters. From these it appears that when Waverley 
was published on 7th July, 1814, the only persons to whom 
Scott had confided his secret were, William Erskine (Lord Kin- 
neddar), the Ballantynes, Constable, and Mr. Morritt of Rokebv. 
It was in a letter to Morritt, written two days after the publica- 
tion of Waverlei/j that the incident as to the writing of the 
novel was first related in these terms : — 

* Now I must account for my own. laziness^ which I do by referring you 
to a small anonymous sort of a novel, in three volumes, which you will 
receive by the mail this day. It was a very old attempt of mine to embody 
some traits of those characters and manners peculiar to Scotland, the last 
remnants of which vanished during my own youth, so that few or no traces 
now remain. I had written great part of the first volume, and sketched 
other passages, when I mislaid the MS., and only found it by the merest 
accident as I was rummaging the drawers of an old cabinet ; and I took 
the fancy of finishing it, which I did so fast that the last two volumes were 
written in three weeks. I had a great deal uf fun in the accomplishing of 
this task, though I do not expect that it will be popular in the South, as 
much of the humour, if there be any, is local, and some of it even profes- 
sional. You, however, who are an adopted Scotchman, will find some 
amusement in it. It has made a very strong impression here, and the 
good people of Edinburgh are busied in tracing the author, and in findin.s; 
out originals for the portraits it contains. In the first place, they will 
probably find it difficult to convict the guilty author, although he is far 
from escaping suspicion, for Jeffrey has offered to make oath that it is 
mine, and another great critic has tendered his affidavit ex contrario ; so 
that these authorities have divided the good town. However, the thing 
has succeeded very well, and is thought highly of . ... I intend to 
maintain my incognito.^ * 

* Lttters, Vol. I., p. 324. 

Sir Walter Scott. 235 

In connection with this candid letter it is interesting to read 
Jefff-ey's own critical judgment upon Waverley, and his 
suspicions as to its author, which appeared in the Edinburgh 
Review for November, 1814. It is important to remember that 
Jeffrey was in a better position than many others to decide as to 
Scott's right to the authorship. They had been close friends 
from 1792, and every one of the early volumes of the Review 
contained several articles from Scott's pen. The violence of 
Jeffrey's Whiggism brought about an estrangement, and when 
the Quarterly Review was founded as an opposition periodical in 
1809, Scott was naturally attracted towards it, and only con- 
tributed occasionally to the pages of the older quarterly. But 
so much of Scott's writing, especially upon Scottish subjects^ 
had passed through Jeffrey's hands, that his acute critical sense 
could not readily be deceived. He sums up his review of 
Waverley thus : — 

' There has been much speculation, at least in this quarter of the 
island, about the author of this singular performance — and certainly it \& 
not easy to conjecture why it is still anonymous. Judging by internal 
evidence, to which alone we pretend to have access, we should not scruple 
to ascribe it to the highest of those authors to whom it has been assigned 
by the sagacious conjectures of the public ; — and this at least we will 
venture to say, that if it ho indeed the work of an author hitherto 
unknown, Mr. Scott would do well to look to his laurels, and to rouse 
himself for a sturdier competition than any he has yet had to encounter.'* 

One of the chosen few to whom Scott imparted the secret of 
the authorship of the Waverley Novels was Lady Louisa Stuart, 
daughter of John, third Earl of Bute, the famous Minister of 
George III., and grand-daughter of Lady Mary Wortley 
Montague. This talented lady, whose letters are amongst the 
most charming in the whole of these two volumes, was born in 
1757, and survived till 1851, forming thus a curious link betwen 
the past and present. Her letters display a vivacity and an easy 
gracefulness of style not unlike the writings of her renowned 
grandmother. Scott had frequently consulted Lady Louisa 
regarding his poetry, and had apparently received from her many 
valuablestories of other days which he wrought into his novels. Per- 
haps it was the latter fact whichled him to takeher into hisconfidence 

* Edinburgh Review, vol. xxiv., p. 242. 

234 Sir Waller Scott. 

as to his prose writings, convinced that ere long she would be 
sure ' to ken her ain groats amang ither folk's kail.' The ealHiest 
allusion to the novels in any of his published letters to Lady 
Louisa is dated 14th November, 1816, and refers to the first 
series of Tales of my Ijandlord; but he had told her his secret 
when the Antiquary was published in the previous May. The 
following passage is interesting as giving Scott's own estimate of 
The Black Dwarfs and of Old Mortality : — 

' I intended to have written four tales illustrative of the manners of 
Scotland in her different provinces. But as no man that wrote so much 
«yerknew solittle what he intended to do when he began to write, ar executed 
less of the little which he had premeditated, I totally altered my plan 
before I had completed my first volume. I began a Border tale well 
enough, but tired of the ground I had so often trod before I had walked 
over two thirds of the course. Besides, I found I had circumscribed my 
bounds too much, and, in manSge phrase, that my imagination, not being 
well in hand, could not lunge easily within so small a circle. So I 
quarrelled with my story, and bungled up a conclusion, as a boarding- 
school Miss finishes a task which she had commenced with great glee and 
accuracy. In the next tale I have succeeded better — at least I think so. 
It is a Covenanting story : the time lies at the era of Both well Brigg, the 
scene in Lanarkshire. Tliere are noble subjects for narrative during that 
period, full of the strongest light and shadow, all human passions stirred 
up and stimulated by the uiost powerful motives, and the contending 
parties as distinctly contrasted in manners and in modes of thinking as in 
political principles. I am complete master of the whole history of these 
strange times, both of persecutors and persecuted, so I trust I have come 
decently off^ for as Falstaff very reasonably asks. Is not the truth ike 
truth ? ' 

The reader who knows these two stories will probably admit 
that it is a rare thing to find an author capaMe of giving so fair 
a criticism upon his own work as is here indicated. In the same 
letter Sir Walter alludes to a rumour that had been put in 
circulation that his brother, Thomas Scott, was the mysterious 
novelist, and it is noteworthy that he refers to the matter with- 
out the faintest tinge of jealousy, but with all the fulness of 
genuine fraternal afFectioii : — 

* I will tell you when we meet what may have given rise to my brother's 
being named as the author of WaMerUy^ etc. It is a report which, if he 
would avail himself of the very strong talents both of pathetic and 
humorous description which he really possesses {car U y a dt quoi) he 

Sir Walter Scott. 235 

might make it a very fortunate report for him. But he is one of the many 
many hundreds in whom indolence has strangled genius, and the habits 
acquired in an unsettled state of life are highly unfavourable to his ever 
doing anything in this way, though the state of his family would render it 
the wisest thing he could do. 

The answer to this interesting letter was written by Lady- 
Louisa Stuart on 5th December, 1816, and shows both the 
acuteness of her criticism and the friendly attitude which she 
took up towards the author. For it requires not a little courage 
even in an earl's daughter to tell a budding novelist where his 
faults lie ; and that Scott appreciated her taste is proved by the 
fact that some of the improvements she suggested were made in 
the second edition : — 

' I came to town yesterday morning, to leave it again to-morrow, j 
found something you wot of upon my table, and as I dare not take it with 
me to a friend's house for fear of exciting curiosity ( FT/ia^ is that? ai\d how 
did you come by it 1) 1 have been reading against time, devouring the food 
till I am almost choked. However, gone through it fairly though hastily 
I have, and now it is locked up in a drawer, there to lie safely till I hear 
of it from others, and assure yourself no human being shall hear of it from 
me. I agree with you, the second tale is the best ; and yet, while reading 
the first, I wondered what you meant by saying so, for it interested me 
strongly. But the second is super-excellent in all its points ; it breaks up 
fresh ground, and has all the raciness of originality. I cannot help thinking 
it will bear down the world before it triumphantly. As usual with certain 
authors, it makes its personages our intimate acquaintances, and its scenes 
so present to the eye that last night after sitting up unreasonably late over 
it, T got no sleep, from a kind of fever of the mind it had occasioned. It 
seemed as if I had been an eye and ear witness of all the passages, and T 
could not lull the agitation into calmness. Mause and Cuddie hurried my 
spirits in another way ; they forced me to laugh out loud, which one sel- 
dom does alone. On a second slower reading I expect to be still better 
pleased, and then also 1 suppose I shall find out all the faults. At present 
it has, in the Scotch phrase, * taken me off my feet,' and I do not criticise, 
though I think you will believe me when I say I do not, and will not flatter 
. . . I have as yet only one great attack to make, and that upon a single 
word, but such a word ! such an anachronism ! Claverhouse says, he has no 
time to make sentimental speeches. My dear sir, tell Jedediah that Claver- 
house never heard the sound of these four syllables in his life. We are used 
to them ; but sentiment and sentimental were, I believe, first introduced 
into the language by Sterne, and are hardly as old as I am. Let alone the 
Covenanters' days, I am persuaded you would look in vain for them in the 
works of Richardson and Fielding, authors of George the II. 's reign. Nay, 

230 Sir Walter Scott. 

the French, froui whom they were borrowed, did not talk of U sentiment 
till long after Louis the XIY.'s reign. No such thing is to be found in 
Madame de Sdvign^^ La Bruy^re, etc., etc. At home or abroad I defy 
Lord Dundee ever to have met with the expression.' 

In a later letter, Ladv Louisa returned to the criticism of these 
two novels, and showed how keen was her critical faculty for 
prose. She was not always so felicitous in her appreciation of 
Scott's poetry. For instance, she wrote a most effusive letter on 
29th October, 1815, full of compliments upon Scott's ' Field of 
Waterloo,' which even his most devoted admirers regard as the 
weakest of all his poems, and excuse it because of the haste with 
which it was written, and for the benevolent purpose the poet 
had in view. So highly did Sir AValter esteem her praise, that 
he endorsed the letter, * this applause is w^orth having.' Yet the 
poem was the current jest of the wits of that day. Lord 
Chancellor Erskiue wrote one of his cleverest epigrams on this 
subject, which ran thus : — 

* On Waterloo's ensanguined plain 
Lie tens of thousands of the slain ; 
But none by sabre or by shot 
Fell half as flat as Walter Scott.' 

Even now posterity agrees with Lord Erskine rather than with 
Lady Louisa Stuart. Nevertheless, her criticisms of the novels, 
as they successively appeared, are so full of candid advice and 
refined taste, that her letters on them make most interesting read- 
ing. And it is curious to notice how a lady of over sixty years 
of age, trained in the older school of fiction, gave forth judg- 
ments upon these novels of which posterity has approved. 

There is a charming scene in The Vii^ginianSy in which 
Thackeray depicts Richardson the novelist surrounded in his old 
age by a bevy of fair ladies, who regard him as a kind of demi- 
god, and hang upon each word that falls from his lips as if it 
were the utterance of an oracle. An ill-natured critic, looking 
upon these Letters, and finding so many of them either from or 
to lady correspondents, might hastily conclude that Scott was of 
the ultra-sentimental order, not virile enough to resist their 
blandishments, and anxious to obtain favourable opinions from 
the impressionable and emotional sex. But such a conclusion 

Sir Walter Scott. 237 

would be grossly unfair to him. That he valued the esteem of 
educated women like Lady Dalkeith, Lady Abercorn, Joanna 
Baillie, Anna Seward, Maria Edgeworth, and others well-fitted 
to criticise his works, is not to be denied ; but not less did he 
place himself in direct communication with the leading men of 
letters — Jeffrey, Wordsworth, Southey, Surtees, Leyden, Hogg^ 
and Washington Irving — who were extremely unlikely to offer 
the incense of praise at an unworthy shrine. Many of his letters 
to these men are published in the two volumes, and through them 
all there is visible the same noble mind, the same kindly heart 
and modest demeanour which give character to all his corres- 
pondence. He was not a fisher for compliments, but he did not 
despise sincere approval. The fame which his poetry brought to 
him might have unduly elated a less estimable man, and made 
him supercilious and patronising ; its only effect upon Scott was to 
make him work more earnestly, that he might merit the applause 
so liberally bestowed. 

Nor must it be supposed that Scott attained to eminence as a 
poet without one cavilling word being raised against him. 
Francis Jeffrey, though deeply indebted to Scott for literary aid 
when starting and continuing the Edinburgh Review^ had too high 
a notion of the true functions of a critic to suffer even his esteemed 
friend to escape the scalpel ; and every successive review of 
Scott's poetry contained some plain-spoken criticism. Hazlitt, a 
born critic, rather prided himself in resisting the witchery of 
Scott's verse and the glamour of his prose. Of the former he 
wrote thus : — 

* Walter Scott is the most popular of all the poets of the present day, 
and deservedly so. He describes that which is most easily and generally 
nnderstood with more vivacity and effect than anybody else. He has no 
excellences, either of a lofty or recondite kind, which lie beyond the reach 
of the most ordinary capacity to find out ; but he has all the good qualities 
which all the world agree to understand. His style is clear, flowing, and 
transparent ; his sentiments, of which his style is an easy and natural 
medium, are common to him with his readers. He has none of Words- 
worth's idiosyncrasy. He differs from his readers only in a greater range 
of knowledge and facility of expression. His poetry belongs to the class of 
improvisatore poetry. It has neither depth, height, nor breadth in it ; 
neither uncommon strength nor uncommon refinement of thought, senti- 
ment, or language. It has no originality. But if this author has no re- 

23S Sir Walter Stott. 

search, no moving power in his own breast, he relies with the gremter 
safety and success on the force of his subject. He selects a story such as 
is sure to please, full of incidents, characters, peculiar manners, ooatnme, 
and scenery ; and he tells it in a way that can offend no one. He uerer 
wearies or disappoints you. He is communicative and garmlooay but he 
is not his own hero. He never obtrudes himself on your notice to preTenc 
your seeing the subject. What passes in the poem, passes mach as it 
would have done in reality. The author has little or nothing to do 
with it.' 

Jeremy Bentham, the founder of the Utilitarian Philosophy, 
can hardly be pat on the same level as Jeffrey or Hazlitt in the 
matter of poetic criticism ; but he went out of his way on one 
occasion to describe Scott as *a servile poetaster.' AVlien 
Rokeby was published in 1812, Moore endeavoured to cast 
ridicule upon it by a verse in the Twopenny Postbag^ in which 
he declared that the Minstrel, having quitted the Border — 

* To seek new renown, 
Is coming by long Quarto stages to Town ; 
And beginning with Rokeby (the job's snre to pay). 
Means to do all the Gentlemen's Seats by th3 way.' 

When Lockhart's Life of Scott was published, Macvey Napier 
wrote to Macaulay asking him to write an article on it for the 
Edinburgh RevitWy but the brilliant historian declined, and in his 
letter dated 26th June, 1838, brought a whole battery of charges 
against Sir Walter, which seem not a little spiteful. The follow- 
ing remarkable passage occurs in this epistle : — 

• Surely it would be desirable that some person who knew Sir Walter, 
wh • had a: least seen and spoken with him, should be charged with this 
hnii-'.r. Many p*eople are living who had a most intimate aoquaintauoe 
\^;::. Lim. 1 kn^w no more of him than I know of Dryden or Addison, 
i-.I :.-ji a Tenth part so much as I know nf Swift, Cowper, or Johnson. 
T-cL. i^^ii. I have not. from the little that I do know of him, formed so 
l.jl ..- ::::.: :. ^f his character as most people seem to entertauL, and mm 
-.' V z-r rXT-eiient for the H.^i.^hut^l i»---.fir to express. He seenis to 
1..T -.. iivr I'ern mo*t Cirefully. and successfully, on his guard against the 
i_:.5 "L:::. :i:c^: i-.i*:Iy V-eset litiniry men. i.>n that side he multiplied his 
i.'r'T-::i"-:i-:is. ..nvi a^e: ao'.il'.e vatch. Hari'/.y any writer has been so free 
fr - . :r.T -.-rttv itV.Ousies and morbid irrital-iiiiies of our casce. Bat I do 
L .I tlii-k ''l%\ he kept himself ei^ually pure from faults of a very different 
kir.£. tr:iz the fa:: It* ■ f a :r.a:i oi the w^^rld. In j-olitics. a bitter and on- 
-I-". "5 T.sTtiz.u. : i'Muse a:. I osient.tious in expense ; agitated bj 

Sir Walter Scott. 23*^ 

the hopes and fears of a gambler ; perpetually sacrificing the perfection of 
his compositions, and the durability of his fame, to his eagerness for 
money ; writing with the slovenly haste of Dryden, in order to satisfy 
wants which were not, like those of Dryden, caused by circumstances 
beyond his control, but which were produced by his extravagant waste or 
rapacious speculation ; this is the way in which he appears to me. I am 
sorry for it, for I sincerely admire the greater part of his works ; but I 
cannot think him a high-minded man, or a man of very strict principle. 
Now these are opinions which, however softened, it would be highly un- 
popular to publish, particularly in a Scotch review.* 

It was perhaps as well that Macaulay, with these sentiaaen^s 
and prepossessions in his mind, was not asked to write a review 
of Scott's Life. Possibly had the Letters and Journal been 
published before this time, even Macaulay would have found 
reason to temper his judgment. The case per contra in favour 
of Scott might here easily be led by giving quotations from the 
numerous reviews of his works as th^y appeared ; but it will be 
more interesting to the reader if two estimates of Scott by two 
widely different men — Byron and Christopher North — be quoted 
from volumes that are little known to the present generation. 
In Med win's Conversations of Lord Byron^ published in 1824, 
the following passages occur : — 

^ When I entered the room, Lord Byron was devouring, as he called it, 
a new novel of Sir Walter Scott's. **How difficult it is," said he, **to 
say anything new. Who was that voluptuary of antiquity who oflfered a 
reward for a new pleasure ? Perhaps all nature and art could not supply 
a new idea. This page, for instance, is a brilliant one ; it is full of wit. 
But let us see how much of it is original. This passage, .for instance, 
comes from Shakespeare ; this 60^1 mot from one of Sheridan's comedies ; 
this observation from another writer (naming the a«thor), and yet the 
ideas are new moulded, and perhaps Scott was not aware of their being 
plagiarisms. It is a bad thing to have too good a memory." . . . "I 
never travel without Scott's novels," said he, *' they are a library in them- 
selves, a perfect literary treasure. I could read them once a year with 
new pleasure." I asked him if he was certain about the novels being Sir 
Walter Scott's? ** Scott as much as owned himself the author of Waverley 
to me in Murray's shop," replied he. '* 1 was talking to him about that 
novel, and lamented that its author had not carried back the story nearer 
to the time of the Revolution. Scott, entirely off his guard, said, "Ay, 

1 might have dune so, but ." There he stopped. It was in vain to 

attempt to correct himself ; he looked confused and relieved his embarrass- 
ment by a precipitate retreat." ... ** He spoiled the fame of his 

^40 Sir Walter Scott. 

poetry by his superior prose. He has such extent and versatility of powers 
in writing that should his novels ever tire the public, which is not likely, 
lie will apply himself to something else, and succeed as well. His mottoes 
from old plays prove that he at all events possesses the dramatic faculty 
which is denied me."' 

This testimony, coming from one who never was lavish in praise 
of other poets, is of much value. The next quotation is from 
Christopher North's too much neglected Nodes ArnbroaiancBy and 
appeared in BlackwoodCa Magazine for September, 1825. It 
faithfully represents the enthusiasm which the poetry of Scott 
evoked, and skilfuUv thou£jh humorouslv suggests the cause : — 

North : — 'Scott's poetry puzzles me — it is often very bad. Except when 
his martial soul is up, he is but a tame and feeble writer. His versifica- 
tion in general flows on easily — smoothly, almost sonorously, but seldom 
or never with impetuosity or grandeur. There is no strength, no felicity 
in his diction, and the substance of his poetry is neither rich nor rare.' 

Tickler : — ' But when his martial soul is up, and up it is at the sight of a 
spear-point or pennon, then indeed you hear the true poetry of chivalry. 
What care I for all his previous drivelling — if drivelling it be — and God 
forbid I should deny drivelling to any poet, ancient or modem — for now 
he makes my very soul to burn within me, and coward and civilian though 
I be — yes, a most intense and insuperable coward, prizing life and limb be- 
yond all other earthly possessions, and loath to shed one single drop of 
blood either for my king or country — yet such is the trumpet power of the 
song of that son of genius, that I start from my old elbow chair, up with 
the poker, tongs, or shovel, no matter which, and flourishing it around my 
head, cry — 

*' Charge, Chester, charge ! — on, Stanley, on ! " 

* and then, dropping my voice and returning to my padded bottom, 
whisper — 

" Were the last words of Marmion." 

* I care not one single curse for all the criticism that was ever canted, op 
decanted, or recanted. Neither does the world. The world takes a poet 
as it finds him, and seats him above or below the salt. The world is as 
obstinate as a million mules, and will not turn its head on one side or 
another for all the shouting of the critical population that ever was shouted. 
It is very possible that the world is a bad judge — well then, appeal to 
posterity, and be hanged to you — and posterity will affirm the judgment 
with costs. . . . Therefore I say that Scott is a Homer of a poet, and 
so let him dose when he has a mind to it, for no man I know is better en- 
titled to an occasional half -can to of slumber.' 

Sir Walter Scott. 241 

These extracts should be sufficient to show that Scott had few 
enemies and many friends, even amongst the critics who are sup- 
posed to be least under the influence of emotion. The secret of 
this phenomenon is probably to be found in the lovable disposi- 
tion of the man, as apart from the author ; and though Lock- 
hart's Life of Scott brings out this trait of his character with 
sufficient clearness, Lockhart was prevented from fully utilizing 
either the Letters or the Journal, lest he should offend Scott's 
surviving friends. Now that these are completely published, it is 
seen that the more light there is shed upon the poet's private life, 
the more brilliantly does his reputation shine. 

The political opinions of Scott may seem to this generation to 
require both explanation and apology. He was a Tory of an 
ultra type, and remained consistent throughout his life to the 
doctrines that had been inculcated upon him in his youth. The 
political class to which he belonged is now quite obsolete, for the 
Conservative of modern times has been so altered by evolution 
and environment that he can hardly be recognised as the direct 
descendant of the Tory of a hundred years ago. It is not diffi- 
cult to account for Scott's Toryism. He was trained in the home 
circle to venerate rank and noble birth, and his own predilections 
led him to regard Royalty and all its belongings with a sincere 
devotion that is now either rare or quite unknown. Had he lived 
in Jacobite times, he would certainly have shared with Viscount 
Dundee the clouded glory of Killiecrankie, or at a later date he 
would have been ' out in the '15,' or still later, would have ' fol- 
lowed Prince Charlie.' With the extinction of the hopes of the 
Stuart race, there was no choice, save to transfer his loyalty to 
the House of Hanover, and he gave the reigning sovereign his 
allegiance as the representative of law and order. One important 
event which served to confirm his devotion, was the occurrence 
of the French Revolution, with all its sanguinary horrors. His 
youth and early manhood were contemporaneous with the thrill- 
ing events in that protracted tragedy, and we can have little idea 
in these peaceful times of the terrorising effect of the Revolution 
upon the educated classes in this country. Every movement for 
the amelioration of the poor, or for the rectifying of flagrant 

political wrongs, was regarded as a prelude to a new Reign of 
XXIII. 1 6 

242 Sir Walter Srotf. 

Terror ; and Toryism of the most ancompromising type was de- 
veloped alike amongst the land-owners and the professional 
classes of every degree. It was an excusable revolt against what 
seemed to be the coming anarchy, and Scott naturally joined 
those who rallied for the protection of the throne. During the 
trials for sedition, which disgraced the legal annals of Scotland 
at the close of last century, he looked on approvingly, not suffer- 
ing himself to sympathise with martyrs like Muir and Fyshe 
Palmer, because he viewed them as firebrands bent upon the de- 
struction of Church and State. It is easy to cultivate this state 
of mind, but very difficult to escape from it. That Jeffrey and 
Cockburn did free themselves from terrorism is greatly to their 
credit; but it cannot be charged against Scott that the constitu- 
tion of his mind and long- formed habits of thought prevented 
him from doing so. Eather is it creditable that, with his vast 
literary power and fluent pen, he chose to keep out of the fray, 
or to mingle slightly with the gladiators in the political arena of 
his time. Twice he committed the error of giving way to political 
prejudice, and on both occasions he deeply repented. The first 
time was when he introduced the heartless line * Tally ho to the 
Fox' in a poem not to be found in his collected works, but 
printed in Lockhart's Life, He was sharply rebuked by Lady 
Rosslyn, who wrote a note (printed in the first volume of the 
Letters) describing it as * an uncalled-for mark of personal 
disrespect to Mr. Fox.' The other incident happened at the 
Coronation of George IV., when the unhappy Queen Caroline 
endeavoured to force her way into Westminster to claim her 
rights as Queen-Consort, aided by a few enthusiasts, some of 
whom, at least, had espoused her cause for the sake of mere 
notoriety. Let De Quincey explain the episode, and apologise for 
the offender : — 

' Describing the morning of the Coronation, and the memorable repulse 
of the poor misguided Queen, Sir Walter allowed himself to speak of her as 
the great Lady, with her hody-gxiard of black-guards. These words I doubt 
not that Sir Walter soon, and often, and earnestly deplored ; for the 
anguish of her mortification, by the testimony of all who witnessed 
the tumultuous succession of passion that shook her, and convulsed her 
features, as she argued the point with the officer at the entrance of West- 
minster Hall, was intense ; and those pitied her then who never pitied her 

Sir Walter Scott. 243 

before. There were also other reasons that must have drawn a generous 
regret from Sir Walter upon remembering these words afterwards. But 
we all know that it was not in his nature to exult over the fallen, or to 
sympathise with triumphant power. In fact, he could not foresee her 
near-approaching death ; and he was reasonably disgusted with her 
violence at the moment ; and, finally, the words escaped him under 
circumstances of hurry, which allowed no time for revision. Few indeed 
are the writers who have so little to blot as this distinguished man.' 

It must be admitted that Scott never abandoned the political 
notions of his youth, but died as sincere a Tory as he had lived. 
But then it must be remembered that the new era introduced by 
the Reform Bill of 1832 had only dawned when he departed, and 
he could not anticipate the stupendous changes in political affairs 
that have taken place during the past sixty years. It is possible 
to blame Scott for not having the clear-sightedness of the literary 
Whigs of his time — Jeffrey, Macaulay, and the brilliant band of 
Edinburgh Reviewers — but that is much like blaming Galileo 
for not anticipating Newton's theory of gravitation. One thing 
is certain. Sir Walter's fine old crusted Toryism never warped 
his affection for humanity, nor prevented him from sympathizing 
with the sorrows of the poor. 

The domestic circle into which the Letters and Journal 
introduce us is as perfect an example of felicity as could be found 
anywhere. The first three letters are love-letters of a highly 
original character. It is well known that before he corresponded 
with Miss Carpenter, who became his wife, he had suffered a 
very severe disappointment in love. He had fixed his young 
affections upon Williamina Stuart, only child of Sir James 
Stuart of Fettercairn, Bart., but the marriage of that young lady 
to Sir William Forbes of Pitsligo put an end to his dream. 
While still suffering from this unexpected shock he met Miss 
Charlotte Carpenter, daughter of M. Jean Charpentier of Lyons, 
a Frenchwoman by birth, but educated in England; and the 
result of a brief courtship was a proposal of marriage, made in 
September, 1797. The offer was accepted, and the wedding 
took place at Carlisle on 24th December in that year. In many 
ways Scott's wife was a direct contrast to himself. She was 
practical and unromantic, whilst he was visionary and inclined to 
look at everj'day affairs through the resplendent mist of senti- 


244 Sir Walter Stvtt. 

ment. It was an attraction of opposites that brought them 
together, and though there is ample evidence that Scott never 
forgot his first love, he admitted himself that his broken heart 
had been * handsomely pieced * even while he averred that ' the 
crack would remain till his dying day.' The marriage was a 
surprise to all his friends, and prophets of evil foretold that it 
could only result in unhappiness. Yet, during the thirty years 
that the union subsisted, it was as perfect a uniting of hearts as the 
most sanguine could have desired. Many stories have been 
in circulation to show that these two were unsuited for each 
other, some of which, no doubt, were invented by his waggish 
friends. The following joke, for instance, was probably concocted 
by one of the Erskines. It is related that one day Sir Walter 
and Lady Scott were walking through the fields, and he was 
dilating with enthusiastic fervour upon the beauties of nature, 
directing her attention especially to the snow-white lambs that 
were frisking o'er the lea. *' Yes," she replied, '^ they are very 
nice — with mint sauce and green peas." The story is possibly 
slanderous, but even if it were true, it only shows that she 
possessed the domestic instinct and the housewifely qualities that 
were so necessaiy in such a household as his. In his second 
love-letter to her he wrote : — ' I admire of all things your laugh- 
ing Philosophy, and shall certainly be your pupil in learning to 
take a gay view of human life.' Again, in another letter, he 
thus expressed his hopes for the future : — ' When care comes we 
will laugh it away ; or if the load is too heavy, we will sit down 
and share it between us, till it becomes almost as light as pleasure 
itself.' With these bright anticipations and honest intentions 
to make the best of everything, there was no room for discord in 
the home of the Scotts ; for the haus-vater himself had little of 
that irritability of temper which often makes the domestic life of 
the literary household intolerable. How well she realised his hopes 
is shown by the melancholy passage in the Journal where he 
records in secret the loss he sustained by her death : — 

* Lonely, aged, deprived of my family — all but poor Anne — ^an im- 
poverished and embarrassed man, I am deprived of the sharer of my 
thoughts and counsels, who could always talk down my sense of the 
calamitous apprehensions which break the heart that must bear them alone. 

Sir Walter Scott. 245 

Even her foibles were of service to me, by giving me things to think of be- 
yond my weary self -reflection.' 

In the face of such a sincere and heart-felt record we must 
conclude that the vaticinations of impending unhappiness which 
were circulated when the marriage was announced were wholly 

The happy relations that ever subsisted between Scott and his 
children are beautifully displayed throughout the Letters. In 
their childhood he sympathises with all their petty griefs and 
trials, unbending as only the loftiest minds can to partake in 
their little joys and sorrows, and mingling fatherly counsel with 
reproof where that is necessary. As they rise to manhood and 
womanhood his manner of addressing them alters, but there is 
the same kindly spirit and tender regard for them as was shown 
before they had left the nursery. Apart from their literary 
interest, these letters to Scott's children might be taken as 
models of parental epistles, more instructive because more 
genuine than anj^thing of the kind written by Lord Chesterfield, 
Dr. Gregory, or Mrs. Chapone. Many of the letters to familiar 
correspondents show Scott in the midst of the bustle caused by 
the erection of that ' romance in stone and lime ' called Abbots- 
ford. In this connection it is interesting to examine the sump- 
tuous volume by Sir Walter's great-granddaughter, the present 
proprietrix of Abbotsford, entitled The Personal Belies and Anti- 
quarian Treasures of Sir Walter Scott. The twenty-five plates 
in this volume, admirably drawn and beautifully coloured by Mr. 
William Gibb of Edinburgh, give an excellent idea of the life 
which the novelist led at Abbotsford, and the historical and per- 
sonal objects which were most highly prized by him. Here will 
be found many of the relics to which allusion is made in the 
Letters and the Journal^ and thus the volume makes a most 
valuable supplement to those which preceded it. 

The second volume of the * Letters' closes in 1825, leaving 
Scott in the full tide of his prosperity. The world had gone 
very well with him up till that time, and though he had had 
losses in his family and severe domestic trials, he had yet been 
able to keep ' aye a heart abune them a'.' Well would it have 
been for Scott had he remembered the Horatian stuuza : — 

246 Sir Walter Scott 

' But when Fortune's smiles are sweetest, 
And when all the sky seems fair, 
Then, Licinius, 'tis meetest 
Thou should'st for the worst prepare. 
Reef and trim thy swollen sail, 
Whilst thy care may yet avail. 
For the canvas, unconfined. 
May drift thee till thou leave thy friends behind.* 

It is his neglect of these precautions that makes the Journal 
so melancholy to the sympathetic reader. Every biography exer- 
cises a saddening influence as the close is reached, and in Scott's 
case this is peculiarly manifest. The Journal begins where 
the Letters terminate, and for the first few pages the same 
light-heartedness is visible as in his correspondence. But ere 
long the dark cloud arises which overshadowed the remainder of 
his existence ; and it is in the pages of this Journal that we 
see the gay comedy of his life-drama developing into mcst 
moving tragedy. The story of his monetary misfortunes need 
not here be recapitulated. Scott's easy good nature had led him 
to risk his fortune to relieve Ballantyne and Constable from the 
difficulties in which they were involved; and before long the 
crash came which a more worldly-minded man would have anti- 
cipated and prepared for. He was plunged at once from a posi- 
tion of affluence into direst poverty. Instead of whining impo- 
tently over this disaster or querulously blaming his friends as the 
cause of his misery, he turns, with a nobility of spirit unexampled 
in literature, and addresses himself to the task of retrieving his 
lost positi:n. He had reached the pinnacle of fame and might 
well have rested on his laurels ; but the thought of living in 
indigence was intolerable to him, and though his strength was 
already failing, he set himself with a stout heart to tread once 
more the arduous path over which he had formerly passed with 
a jubilant spirit. No foolish pride was to be allowed to intervene 
and divert him from his purpose. The duty of giving up all he 
had won, of resigning the rewards that his own industry and 
self-sacrifice had legitimately gained, was fearlessly faced ; and 
at a time when he might have been entitled to rest from his 
labours, he girded up his loins to begin the journey anew. The 
passage in which he describes his feelings at this juncture is as 

Sir Walter Scott. 247 

pathetic as any in the whole range of fiction. It is literally the 
picture of a good man bravely struggling with adversity : — 

* 1825, Dec. 18. — Ballantyne called on me this morning. Venit iUa 
suprema dies. My extremity has come. Cadell has received letters from 
London which all but positively announce the failure of Hurst & Robinson^ 
so that Constable & Go. must follow, and I must go with poor James Bal- 
lantyne for company. I suppose it will involve my all. But if they leave 
me £500 I can still make it £1000 or £1500 a year. And if they take my 
salaries of £1300 and £300, they cannot but give me something out of 
them. I have been rash in anticipating funds to buy land, but then I 
made from £5,000 to £10,000 a year, and land was my temptation. I 
think nobody can lose a penny — that is one comfort. Men will think 
pride has had a fall. Let them indulge their own pride in thinking that 
my fall makes them higher, or seems so at least. I have the satisfaction 
to recollect that my prosperity has been of advantage to many, and that 
some at least will forgive my transient wealth on account of the innocence 
of my intentions, and my real wish to do good to the poor. This news 
will make sad hearts at Damick, and in the cottages of Abbotsford, which 
I do not nourish th^ least hope of preserving. It has been my Delilah^ 
and so I have often termed it ; and now the recollection of the extensive 
woods I planted, and the walks I have formed, from which strangers must 
derive both the pleasure and the profit, will excite feelings likely to sober 
my gayest moments. I have half resolved never to see the place again. 
How conld I tread my hall with such a diminished crest ? How live a 
poor indebted man where I was once the wealthy, the honoured ] My 
children are provided ; thank God for that. I was to have gone there on 
Saturday in joy and prosperity to receive my friends. My dogs will wait 
for me in vain. It is foolish — but the thoughts of parting from these dumb 
creatures have moved me more than any of the painful reflections I have 
put down. Poor things, I must get them kind masters ; there may be yet 
those who loving me may love my dog because it has been mine. I must 
end this, or I shall lose the tone of mind with which men should meet dis- 
tress. — I find my dogs' feet on my knees. I hear them whining and seek- 
ing me everywhere — this is nonsense, but it is what they would do could 
they know how things are. Poor Will Laidlaw ! Poor Tom Purdie ! this 
will be news to wring your heart, and many a poor fellow's besides to whom 
my prosperity was daily bread ! * 

Even to so prolific and facile a writer as Scott, the task of 
beginning life anew was too much. The constitution of his 
mind was thus described by him^a description that will seem 
familiar to manv eno-afjed in literature : — 

* Never a being, from my infancy upward, hated task-work as I hate it ; 
and yet I have done a great deal in my day. It is not that I am idle in my 

24S Sir Walter S^otf. 

nature neither. But propose to me to do one thing, and it is inconceivable 
the desire I have to do something else — not that it is more easy or more 
pleasant, but just because it is escaping from an imposed task. I cannot 
trace this love of contradiction to any distinct source, but it has haunted 
me all my life.' 

To a mind so constituted the stupendous task which Scott 
undertook of retrieving his vanished fortune must have been 
inexpressibly irksome ; and though he never breaks out, as 
Carlyle so frequently does, into wailing feebly over the fate that 
binds him to the wheel, it is impossible for him wholly to hide the 
distastefulness of the work which employed his latter days. 
Some of his German critics have flippantly suggested that what 
Scott wrote through love of his art is imperishable, but that the 
work done by him for mercenary purposes contains the germs of 
iiievitable decay. The statement is only partially true. The 
work upon which his fame will rest was accomplished before 
disaster overtook him. His after-work was the result of the 
frantic attempt to spur the jaded courser that had neared the 
goal once more around the course, and failure was the inevitable 
consequence. Day after day he wrought unflinchingly, perform- 
ing the allotted task with racking head and sorrowful heart, 
grudging even the slight encroachments on his time made by a 
casual visitor, and burdened with the fear that his hand would 
be still and cold in death ere he had accomplished his Sisyphean 
labour : — 

' After all I have fagged through six pages, and made Wurmser lay down 
his sword on the glacis of Mantua — and my head aches, my eyes ache, my 
back aches, so does my breast, and I am sure my heart aches. And what 
can Duty ask more 1 ' 

The end which Sir Walter set before him was attained, but at 
incommensurate cost. When he began his second literary career, 
he was fifty-four years of age, and already he had felt some of 
those symptoms of decaying health which youth may neglect, but 
which advancing years make more pronounced and prophetic. 
Yet he succeeded in gaining his purpose, and could once more 
hold his head erect amongst his fellow-men, and feel entitled to 
the respect which had never been withheld. But the brave 
struggle he had made impaired his energies, and his health com- 

Sir Walter Scott. 249 

pletely broke down in 1832. It was then thought that a tour 
on the Continent would revive him, and accordingly he set out 
for Italy in the early part of that year. On this occasion, 
Wordsworth addressed to him one of the finest of his sonnets, 
which may here be repeated : — 

* A trouble, not of clouds or weeping rain. 
Nor of the setting sun's pathetic light, 
Engendered, hangs o'er Eildon's triple height ; 
Spirits of Power, assembled there, complain 
For Kindred Power, departing from their sight ; 
While Tweed, best pleased in chanting a blithe strain, 
Saddens his voice again and yet again. 
Lift up your hearts, ye Mourners ; for the might 
Of the whole World's good wishes with him goes ; 
Blessings and prayers in nobler retinue 
Than sceptred king or laurelled conqueror knows. 
Follow this wondrous Potentate. Be true 
Ye winds of ocean and the Midland Sea, 
Wafting your charge to soft Parthenope.' 

The world's good wishes, though lavishly bestowed, were doomed 
to prove fruitless. Though reinvigorated by the journey, and 
Intensely interested in the scenes through which he passed, 
Scott's shroud was already high upon his breast, and his renewed 
strength was but the flicker of the light before its final extinc- 
tion. He carried his faithful Journal with him, and the sprightli- 
ness of some of the later entries shows how greatly he had bene- 
fitted by his tour. The last entry of all is dated 16th April, 
1832, and refers to the journey from Naples to Rome : — 

' We entered Home by a gate renovated by one of the old Pontiffs, but 
which I forget, and so paraded the streets by moonlight to discover, if 
possible, some appearance of the learned Sir William Gell, or the pretty 
Miss Ashley. At length we found an old servant who guided us to the 
lodging taken by Sir William Gell, where all was comfortable, a good fire 
included, which our fatigue and the chilliness of the night required. We 
dispersed as soon as we had taken some food, wine and water. We slept 
reasonably, but on the next morning — 

Thus abruptly ends this most interesting record. Mr. David 
Douglas, referring to this passage, speaks of it as * probably the 
last words ever penned by ycott.' In this he makes a slight 
mistake. It will be noticed that the Journal terminates with 

250 Sir Walter Scott. 

Scott's entry to Rome. Whilst residing there he made the 
acquaintance of the Countess Wolkonsky, a lady of Polish ex- 
traction, who was one of his devoted admirers ; and at her request 
he wrote several verses which must have been indited subsequent 
to the last date in the Journal. The holograph manuscript of 
these lines is now in the Museum of the Society of Antiquaries 
at Edinburgh, and as they are almost unknown save to a limited 
circle, the fragment, in the imperfect condition in which it was 
left by the author, may here be quoted. It may be noticed as 
an indication of the decaying of Scott's faculties that even the 
name of the lady to whom he addressed his poem had escaped his 
memory : — 

Verses written by the Countess of Wollenluss' Request : a Russian 


' Lady, they say thy native land 

Unlike this clime of fruit and flowers, 
Loves, like the minstrel's northern strain. 

The sterner share of Nature's powers. 
Even Beauty's power of Empery, 

Decay in the decaying bowers ; 
Until even you may set a task. 

Too heavy for the poet's powers. 

Mortals in vain — so says the Text — 

Seek grapes from briars, from thistles com ; 
Say can fair Wollenluss expect 

Fruit from a withered Scottish thorn ? 
Time once there was, alas ! — but now 

That time returns not now again. 
The shades upon the Dial cast 

Proceed, but pass not back again. 

Yet in this land of lengthened day, 
Where April wears the Autumn's hue ; 

Awakened by the genial ray, 

Thoughts of past visions strive to blow. 

The blood grows warm, the nerves expand. 
The stiffened fingers take the pen. 

And ' 

Ccetera desunt. The * stiffened fingers ' could no longer wield 
the pen that had once been their most potent weapon ; and the 

The Great Palace of Constantinople. 251 

greatest master of language that Scotland had ever seen thus 
leaves his final sentence incomplete. Well might the Countess 
for whom these last words were penned, erect a monument to 
his memory in the Villa Wolkonsky at Rome, bearing the in- 
scription : — 

Walter Scott, la douce Lampe des notre vielles, 

s'est eteint. 

It boots not to dwell upon the sad picture of the last days of 
Scott, or to repeat how he was brought back post-haste that he 
might breathe his last amid the scenes of the native land he loved 
so well. He had overtaxed his strength, and nature exacted the 
penalty ; but his last wish was granted. His eyes beheld once 
more the fertile Vale of Tweed, the mystic Eildon Hill, the 
romantic pile of Abbotsford, ere they were closed forever. On 
21st September, 1832, he died peacefully within the home that 
he had reared, surrounded by the principal members of his 
family. When a great writer whose works are known in cottage 
and in hall, expires in the prime of life, his death affects many as 
if it were a personal bereavement ; but as time rolls on the 
poignancy of grief is abated, and the departed is apt to slip at 
last into oblivion. Well is it for such a poet as Sir Walter 
Scott, when successive generations with one accord combine to 
keep his meniory evergreen. 

A. H. Millar. 


1. The Great Palace of Constantinople. By the late Dr. A. G. 

Paspates. Translated from the Greek by William 
Metcalfe, B.D. With a Map. (A. Gardner, 1893). 

2. Byzantina, Obzor glavnych chastei bolshago dvortsa 

byzantiiskich tsarei. By D. Th. Bieliaiev. (St. Peters- 
burgh, 1891). 

IT was a favourite saying of the Greeks that men, not walls, 
make the city. But in order to understand the history of 

252 The Great Palace of Constantinople. 

a city and the meu who made it, a knowledge of the walls and 
stones which sheltered them is always a desirable, sometimes 
an indispensable help. It would indeed be an exaggeration 
to say that the site of the great palace of Constantinople, and 
of the other famous buildings, which formed the immediate 
world of the Basilous, is the key to the history of the Eastern 
Roman Empire. But it is at least safe to say that many a 
striking scene in Byzantine history cannot be realized, many 
an important crisis cannot be followed satisfactorily, as long as 
our acquaintance with the details of the specially imperial quar- 
ter of the imperial city remains deficient. We may go further and 
assert that the importance of the topography of Constantinople 
for the history ot the State of which Constantinople was the 
centre, is a distinct feature in that history. The topography 
of New Rome is of far greater historical significance than the 
topography of Old Rome. We might read the story of the 
early Caesars with ease and profit, though we had not the faint- 
est notion of the relative positions of Palatine and Capitol, 
Forum and Circus ; but it is impossible to follow the fortunes 
of the later Caesars without continually feeling the need of a 
map to assist our investigation, and show us in their proper 
places, the Palace and St. Sophia, the Augusteum and the 
Hippodrome. The same comparison might be made with 
Athens, and in this case the comparison is perhaps more strik- 
ing, inasmuch as Athenian history is more strictly the history 
of a city. We can read our Thucydides and Xenophon with- 
out ever casting a thought upon the buildings on the Acropolis 
of Athens, but we cannot read our Procopius or Genesius with- 
out having^our attention imperatively called to the Acropolis 
of Byzantium. Is it possible to reconstruct it ? 

Till the other day we have had none but blind guides to 
show us our way through the chief region of Constantinople. 
The fact is that those who occupied themselves with the sub- 
ject had not sufficient data for the solution of the problem 
which they dealt with. They had only two clear landmarks. 
These were the eternal monument of St. Sophia, and the posi- 
tion of the centre of the Hippodrome, which is marked by the 
preservation of the Egyptian obelisk, the three-headed ser- 

The Great Palace of Constantinople. 253 

pent, and the bronze pillar, which were ranged along the spina. 
These starting points were far from bein^ suflScient to deter- 
mine the site of the palace. Such a wide field for guessing 
was left, that guessing was completely futile. From Gyllius 
to Labarte, it was believed, that not a trace of the Palace had 
survived, and travellers had not the will or the means to test 
the verdict of despair. Dr. PaspatSs reviews equitably the 
blind guides who went before him, and concludes that at least 
Labarte was a brave man. This French scholar worked with 
a will at his Constantino Porphyrogennetos, and the results 
which he obtained by combining the various statements of that 
writer, and those published thirty years ago, are by no means 
fruitless. His work cast no clear light on the position of the 
Palace ; but it threw considerable light on the internal 
arrangements of the Palace. As for the work of Skarlatos 
Byzantios, on Constantinople and its environs, with which, as 
written by a countryman. Dr. Paspates has some sympathy, I 
have found it hopelessly unsatisfactory. There is no index; 
and when one looks out under the section headed * Gates,' one 
finds no mention of the Porta Aurea, or if one seeks among 
Fora for the Fprura of Constantine, one discovers the name 
indeed, but without any indication of its site. 

As long as the Turkish stranger holds both sides of the 
Bospborus, there is little likelihood that] the topography of 
Constantinople will be thoroughly cleared up. The archaeo- 
logist who pokes about among the squalid Turkish houses, 
which, worse than mere desolation, cover a large part of the 
Acropolis, is stoned by the children and mocked by the 
women. Such were the experiences of Dr. Paspates, who was 
bold enough to pursue methodical investigations in this un- 
promising field. His energy and perseverance were not un- 
attended by success. He professes to have determined the 
general site of the Great Palace, and to have established cer- 
tain new starting points for future investigation. He admits 
that his reconstruction of the details of ttie Palace is, of 
necessity, largely conjectural, in some important respects it 
approaches very closely that of Labarte, to whom, as he ac- 
knowledges, he is largely indebted. But conjectural though 

254 The Great Palace of Constantinople. 

it be admitted to be, it may stimulate future students; and 
the fact that the author, unlike other writers on the subject, 
pui*8ued his antiquarian investigations on the spot, impresses a 
special stamp on hio work. 

The book, in which Dr. Paspates made known the re- 
sults of his researches to the world, has the qualities 
which so often mark the work of a discoverer, eager 
to reveal his new things, unwilling to wait long enough 
to cast his revelation into form. His Byzantine Palaces 
show& us how he went to work, how his mind travelled, 
and gives the reader that pleasant impression that he is 
assisting at discoveries ; but when one comes to study it 
carefully, one is perpetually puzzled and aggravated by the 
want of arrangement which is conspicuous, by many state- 
ments which are obscure or ambiguous, by some which are 
irreconcilable. To exemplify the haphazard an-angement, I 
may take Chapter VIII. The subject of the chapter is the 
Palace of the Daphne ; and yet, at the beginning, without any 
apparent reason, rooms are described which lay in a totally 
different part of the Palace, and which, one would think, 
naturally belonged to the series of buildings described in 
Chapter VII. Again, it is surely very awkward to interrupt 
the account of the Palace of the Daphne by the description of 
some uncertain chambera and chapels, concerning which 
Dr. Paspates distinctly holds that they were not in the Palace 
of the Daphne, and which are marked on the map as consid- 
erably south, near the Hall of Justinian (pp. 236-240.) 

The confusion which Dr. Paspates prepares for his reader by 
want of explicitness is occasionally very irritating. Thus on 
p. 233 (trans.) we come to the Gallery of St. Stephen, and at 
the end of the section read : ' The only entrance was through 
the Bedchamber above the Octagon, by which the Augusta 
went to the Gallery of the Daphne.' Subsequently we often 
meet ' the Gallery of the Daphne or Augusteus,' but we are 
never told where it lies. At length we discover, by reference 
to the map, that the Gallery of St. Stephen is the same as the 
Gallery of Daphne or Augusteus ; but of this, the text would 
never have given us the slightest hint, and moreover, no pass- 

The Great Palace of Constantinople. 255 

age is quoted to prove the identity. Many other instances 
might be given. Sometimes the translator comes to our 
rescue, as on p. 242. One resents (p. 134) at meeting some- 
thing called ' the Athyra ' in the text, and being told in the 
note that * it was probably so called ' from a harbour, without 
being informed what * it ' was. As for irreconcilable state- 
ments, we shall meet with instances presently. 

Mr. Metcalfe's translation is of the best kind, scholarly, and 
hardly ever reminding the reader that the book was not 
originally written in English. Mr. Metcalfe has gone to the 
trouble of verifying the numerous citations from the Greek 
historians. I can testify to the accuracy of his verifications, for 
having had occasion to turn up a large number of the passages 
quoted, I found only a single false reference, and that not bj" 
any means misleading.* He has adopted the literal, not the 
Latin, transliteration of Greek names ; but it might be wished 
that he had gone so far as to distinguish v from « and ^ from 
by the circumflexional mark. The uninformed reader will 
assuredly take Tripeton to be of the same type of word as 
Trikonchon, especially as the Greek form does not happen to 
occur in the notes. I have noticed only two serious slips» 
Constantino VII., generally known as Porphyrogennetos, was 
the son of Zoe Carbonupsina, not of the Athenian IrenS (p. 56). 
Irene's son was Constantine VI. The other error is on p. 189, 
where we read of 'the reception of the Ambassador from 
Amerimne.' f There is no such place as ' Amerimne.' These 
Ambassadors came from the Emir (d/^eptyuvas) of Tarsus. 

After thus much preliminary criticism, which the reputation 
of the book seemed to demand, it is time to enter upon the 
attempt, which ray paper proposes, to give a ' synthetic * 
account of Dr. Paspates' reconstruction of the Palace. I shall 
then add a few remarks in criticism of his solution of the pro- 
blem which he attempted, and consider under what conditions 
a solution is possible. 

It may not be superfluous to remind some readers that the 
Great Palace, the subject of Dr. Paspates' investigations, is 

• P. 176, note 2, p. 809, should be 810. 

f The words of the author are : iv ttj doxv "^^^ Trpio-^ewv rod 'A^pt/>tv^s, p. 173. 

-.')6 The Great Palace of Constantinople. 

distinct from the Palace of Bukole6n and the Palace of Bla- 
chorn. The Great Palace was on the Acropolis, adjacent to St 
Sophia and the Hippodrome: it was the chief abode of the 
Emperors throughout the whole period of the greatness of the 
Kmpire. But when the seat of Empire was transferred to 
Nicaea, at the beginning of the thirteenth century, and 
western usuq)er8 held the City, this Palace fell into disuse; 
and the minor palaces, that in the suburbs of Blachemae, near 
the end of the Golden Horn, and that of Bukoledn, on the sea- 
shore, a little to the north-east of the Great Palace, were used 
by the restored Palaeologi. 

When (libbon describes the city of Constantinople as an un- 
(^qual triangle, having as base the landwall, and as sides the 
Golden Horn and the Propontis, we must remember that the 
vertex is blunted, and that the line of coast from the mouth of 
the Bosphorus to that of the Golden Horn is of considerable 
length. The northern part of this blunted angle is now occu- 
pied by the Seraglio ; but the southern region, which the 
traveller visits for the sake of the Church of St. Sophia and 
the ilosque of Sultan Achmet, was the centre of political and 
social life under the Emperors. The Augusteum, a long, open 
place, stretching almost duly from north to south, according to 
the view of Dr. Paspatea, and lined on both sides with public 
buildings, may be best taken as the centre for describing the 
relative positions of the edifices which concern us at present. 
Tlie west side of the Augusteum was, according to this view, 
bounded by the Hippodrome, the east side by the walls of the 
(Treat Palace. It is possible that the place may have been 
closed at the southern end, but if not, it led there into a region 
of unimportant dwelling-houses, descending to the sea, where 
the Bosphorus has already opened into the Propontis. North of 
the Augusteum stood the Church of St. Sophia, whose east front 
was divided by only a narrow space from the Palace walls. A 
man walking up from the south end of the Augusteum would 
thus have his view filled by the south side of St. Sophia. If, 
when he reached the north end, instead of advancing to the 
church, he turned to the left, a main and direct street leading 
westward would take him to the Gate of Hadrianople. 

The Great Palace of Constantinople. ibl 

The Augusteum, between the Hippodrome and the Palace 
walls, was not an entirely empty space; there was a row 
of famous buildings and statues on either side. On the east 
side stood the Patriarch's palace, with its garden, the Senate- 
house, and the Baths of Zeuxippos. Between the backs of 
these buildings and the Palace wall ran a thoroughfare called 
the Passage {Diabatika) of Achilles. On the west side, in front 
of the Hippodrome, were the Chamber of the Milion, the 
statues of Justinian and of Eudoxia, the Pittakia, and perhaps 
one or two small churches. There were several gates leading 
from the Augusteum into the Palace. The most southerly was 
the Gate of the Skyia, just south of the Baths of Zeuxippos, 
while the Gate called Monothyros was just north of these 
Baths. The famous Bronze Gate (Chalke) was between the 
Senate-house and the Patriarch's palace. There was another 
gate, the Porta Regia, further north, opposite to the east end 
of St. Sophia.* 

Below the Gate of the Skyla, the palace walls bent in a 
south-easterly direction, and reached the coast near to what is 
now called the Kara Kapu, a name in which the 'Karean 
Gate ' of the Byzantines survives. On the other side, north of 
St. Sophia, the walls continued in a fairly direct line north- 

^ Dr. Paspates' account of the Palace Gates is one of the least satisfac- 
tory parts of his work. On p. 41 he says that five gates are mentioned as 
* leading from the Palace to the Augustaion/ namely, the four which I 
have named above, and the Lesser Bronze Gate. He promises to consider 
these gates more fully afterwards, but he never, as far as I can discover, 
mentions the Lesser Bronze Gate again. He should at least have said that 
he cannot identify. Again, his view that the Gate of Meletios is the 
same as the Regia, has no sufficient evidence to* support it. On the 
other hand, it is quite certain that the Great Gate of the Chalke and the 
Gate of Meletios were the same ; cp. Constantino, i. 1, 14, and i. 2, 37. 
And it is a grave omission, in the discussion of the Gates, to have passed over 
the passage of Constantine Porphyrogenn^tos (i., p. 105, ed. Bonn), 
where the ' northern gate ' is spoken of as that by which the Emperor 
usually issues for processions {ev Tg ir^Xyf iv y SUpxcrai ip iKdary vpocXci^iae 
ijyovv rj oifcry trpds ApKTov.) Which gate was this 1 — On p. 141 the Gate 

Skyla is described as * to the north of the Great Hall of Justinian ; ' * 

fi was 
elsewhere, and in his plan, the author implies that it was to the west* 

XXIII. 17 

ii5H The (treat Palace of Constantinople. 

ward, and reached the sea where the coast of the Bosphoms 
begins to trend towards the Golden Horn. The northern 
limit of the Palace grounds is marked by the remains of an 
ancient Cyclopean wall, and the extent of the grounds may be 
judged from the fact that the distance from the Cyclopean 
wall to the Kareau Gate is upwards of a mile, while Dr. 
Paspates estimates the area of the enclosure at 383,000 square 
yards. The Great Palace itself was situated in the southern 
portion of this space ; the buildings did not exteud beyond a 
line drawn eastward from St. Sophia. The northern region of 
the grouuds are laid out as a tzykanisterion or polo-ground. 
The game tzykan^ which seems to have corresponded in all 
esseutial points to polo, was introduced at Constantinople 
probably from Persia, at a very early period — ^perhaps as early 
as the reign of Theodosius II. The Emperor Manuel I. is 
paid to have been nearly killed by a fall from his horse in 
playing this game, which was probably always one of the 
chief outdoor amusements of the Imperial Court Below the 
tzykanisterion, close to the shore, was the Palace of Bukoledn, 
which may be considered as a sort of adjunct to the Great 
Palace, but which continued to be used when the Great 
Palace was abandoned. 

The Great Palace may be best described as a group of 
palaces, of which any one alone would have been an abode 
worthy of an Emperor. These palaces are three, (1) that of 
the Chrysotriklinos or Golden Hall, (2) that of the Trikonchon 
or Hall of three bays, (3) the Daphne.* In order to give a 
general view of the scheme and relative positions of these 
buildings, according to the reconstruction of Dr. Paspates, take 
a point in the Palace wall, corresponding roughly to the central 
point of the east side of the Hippodrome, and draw a line due 
east. The part of this line nearest to the wail will represent 
the gallery of the Daphne, while its eastward continuation will 
coiTespond to the Gallery of the Forty Saints. These galleries, 
which are continuous, divide the Palace into two parts. The 


chiThe Maguaura should be considered a fourth. Dr. Paspates does not 
west*^ do justice to the size of the Magnaura. 

The Great Palace of Constantinople. 259 

group of buildings north of the Gallery of the Daphne is the 

palace of the Daphne. The buildings to the south may be 

divided into three groups : the most westerly, next the wall, 

consisting of the Numera, the Open Hippodrome, and the 

Covered Hippodrome * ; the central including the Trikonchon, 

the Sigma and other chambers; the most easterly being 

grouped round the Chrysotriklinos. South of these buildings, 

stretching eastward from the Gate of Skyla, ran the spacious 

hall (triklinosj constructed by the Emperor Justinian II., — the 

work by which the name of the last of the Heracliads was best 

remembered at Constantinople. Thus the Hall of Justinian 

bounded these buildings on the south, just as the Galleries of 

^^Daphne and the Forty Saints bounded them on the north. 

Nfcng passage, called the Hall of Lausos, or the Lausiakos, 

^^^om north to south, separated the Palace of the 

«^ S.:linos from the Palace of the Trikonchon ; but how 

le Palace of the Trikonchon was separated from, or 

cated with, the Covered Hippodrome and the other 

i to the west. Dr. Paspates has not determined. To 

b scheme of the Palace clearer to a reader who has 

...oynrlr of Dr. Paspates in either its Greek or its English 

form, let us suppose that a visitor to the Palace is admitted at 
the Gate of the Skyla. He proceeds straight on, through the 
Hall of Justinian, and on reaching its extreme end turns to the 
left, at right angles, and finds himself in the long hall of 
Lausos. His face is now set north, and when he has traversed 
this passage, without bending to right or left, he steps into the 
Gallery of the Forty Saints, and then turning to the left and 
advancing (westward) along this gallery, passes into the 
Gallery of the Daphne, from which, by an opening to the right, 
he can enter the Palace of the Daphne. If, before reaching the 
northern extremity of the Hall of Lausos, he had taken a door 
to the left, he would have entered the Trikonchon ; and if he 
had taken a corresponding door to the right he would have 
found himself in the precincts of the Chrysotriklinos. 

* The open Hippodrome in the Palace is an invention 6f Dr. Paspates ; 
I cannot find the faintest evidence for it. The Covered Hippodrome was 
placed in the Palace by Labarte, but without proof. 

2<)0 Ihe Great Palace of Constantinople, 

Supposing him to have taken the door on the right, he 
would descend a flight of steps into the Tripeton, a sort of 
open portico to the Golden Chamber, and identical with the 
Ilorologion or Clock-room.* Crossing the TripetAn to a door 
on its eastern side, the visitor would enter the Golden Chamber, 
to which I shall presently return. At the south side of the 
Golden Chamber, silver doors admitted him into the Long 
Chamber, in the south wall of which there were two doors. 
Of these doors the eastern led into the Emperor's Bed-chamber, 
the Western into the Bed-chamber of the Empress. In the 
western wall of the Long Chamber there was another door 
which led into the Aristetenon or Breakfast Hall ; and in the 
south wall of the Aristeterion was a door admitting to the New 
Chamber. The New Chamber communicated directly with 
the Bedchamber of the Empress. Returning to the Aristeterion 
one could pass by a door on its northern side into the 


Thus the Golden Chamber was bounded on the west by the 
Tripeton, on the south by the Long Chamber, south of which 
again were the Bedchamber of the Emperor and Empress, 
while south of the Tripeton were, successively, the Breakfast 
Hall and the New Chamber. The northern boundary of the 
Golden Chamber was the Gallery of the Forty Saints, while 
on the east it opened out on a terrace, ijXMKdp, where the Em- 
peror could enjoy the sun. Adjoining this terrace and in 
direct communication with the Chiysotriklinos, was the Pharos J 
or beacon tower, where a fire used to be kindled when the 
news of a Saracen invasion was flashed across the themes of 
Asia by a line of signalling beacons. Just south of the Pharos 
was the Church of our Lady of the Pharos, often mentioned 

* Dr. Paspates does not cite any passage which proves the Tripetdn to 
have been uncovered. 

tit must be understood that I am merely expounding Dr. Paspat^. 
For this and many other of his (as also Labarte's) statements there is no 
evidence. As for the Aristeterion it was, very probably, where Bieliaiev 
X)uts itj in the south kamara of the Chrysotriklinos. 

X I^r. Paspates discovered a lofty building which he identified with the 
Pharos, but his reasons are not conclusive. 

The Great Palace of Constantinople. 261 

in history, and the spacious Terrace of the Chrysotriklinos 
stretched to its door. 

The Chrysotriklinos itself was built from the foundation by 
Justin IL, the nephew and successor of Justinian, in the latter 
half of the sixth century. ' It had eight chambers communi- 
cating with a central hall, which was domed, and lighted by 
sixteen windows. Here stood the throne of the Emperor, and 
in front of it, as would appear from Constantine Porphyro- 
gennetos, were brazen rails. On either side of the Emperor 
sat any princes who might be present. The north side of the 
Chrysotriklinos was called the left, and the south the right, 
because at ceremonies and banquets the Emperor always stood 
or sat facing the east. At the east end of the left hand side 
of the Chrysotriklinos was the Chamber or Chapel of S. Theo- 
dore, where the Emperors robed on the occasion of a recep- 
tion. A curtain was hung before this chamber. Here the 
Emperor's crown was kept, and Moses' rod was preserved 
along with many vessels of gold and other precious materials, 
which Constantine Porphyrogennetos enumerates. The Em- 
peror's mantle and all the rest of his imperial robe were kept 
in the Chrysotriklinos.' 

According to Bishop Liutprand of Cremona, in his-account 
of his embassy to the Court of Nicephorus Phocas, the Golden 
Chamber was the most splendid part of the whole Palace. If 
Justin rebuilt it, Theophilus and Constantine VII. did much 
for its decoration. ' Theophilus made a silver table, " for the 
accommodation of the guests and the adornment of the Palace," 
in which so many foreigners and courtiers feasted with the 
Emperor. A great chandelier hung from the centre of the 
Hall over the table. The famous golden tree, so often men- 
tioned in accounts of the Palace, was constructed by Theo- 
philos. " Birds sitting on the branches sung by some 
mechanism, the air being supplied by concealed passages." 
The walls were ornamented with mirrors and coloured tiles, 
" affording the more pleasure to the guests owing to the deli- 
cious nature of the viands." Besides making the silver doors 
(into the Tripeton), Constantine VII. ornamented the walls 
and ceiling of the Chrysotriklinos with flowers and leaves 

262 The Great Palace of Constantinople. 

framed in silver circles.' lu the Golden Chamber the most 
striking object must have been the Pentapyrgion, of which, 
unluckily, no accurate description has survived. It was^a 
magnificent structure of wood covered over with gold. Within 
and Avithout it was hung a great variety of decorations, golden 
ornaments and the imperial robes.' At the feast of £aster it 
was the custom that a small table should be placed for the 
Emperor in the Pentapyrgion, while the foreign ambassadors 
whom he invited dined at the golden table below him. Thus 
it would seem to have been a sort of throne arranged for the 
purposes of a dining hall. 

The bt'dchamber known as the New Chamber, which, as we 
have seen, communicated with the Empress's apartments on 
the east sidt*, and with the Aristeterion on the north, deserves 
special notice, and has been well described by Dr. Paspates. 
It ' was built from the foundation by Basil the Macedonian. It 
had a domed roof supported on a series of sixteen marble 
pillars. Eight were of green Thessalian marble, six of ony- 
chite, which the sculptor had ornamented with vines and 
animals ; the other two were decorated with monograms. The 
walls above tlie pillare and the eastern semidome were enriched 
with gold mosaics, representing the builder, Basil the Mace- 
donian, sitting on a throne " surrounded by his generals, oflfer- 
ing him, as gifts, the cities which he had taken." On the root 
were depicted the labours of Basil, his eflForts on behalf of his 
subjects, and the hardships of his military expeditions. In the 
middle of the floor was a brilliantly coloured mosaic represent- 
ing a peacock, framed in Carian marble. In the four comers 
of the room, which was square, there were four eagles, formed 
of small stones of various colours. These are described as 
wonderful works of art, which looked as if they were alive and 
about to fly away. In addition to so much ornament, the 
walls bore a representation of Basil and his consort Eudokia in 
their Imperial robes. Beside them were their children, hold- 
ing books.' 

It is important to get a clear notion of the nature of the ground. 
The Chrysotriklinos was considerably lower than the western 
parts of the Palace. We have already seen that a flight of 

The Great Palace of Constantinople, 263 

steps led down from the Lausiakos into the Tripeton or por- 
tico of the Golden Chamber. But if the Lausiakos was higher 
than the Golden Chamber, the Trikonchon was higher than 
the Lausiakos. Ascending from the Tripeton and crossing 
the Hall of Lausos, one ascended again by a passage called 
the Vault (rpoiriK-fi) of the Lausiakos, in order to reach the Tri- 
konchon. Mr. Metcalfe does well to point out this configura- 
tion of the ground in a special note (p. 209). Perhaps he is 
hardly justified in going so far as to keep this fact before the 
reader by translating (p. 205) diripx^Toi^ in a passage of Con- 
stantine, by * ascends ' (as if it were ^vipx^Toi). But it is very 
unlucky that he has — clearly from inadvertence — made a slip 
in his translation, which will, it is feared, seriously confuse the 
reader who has not access to the original. For at the very 
beginning of the account of the Palace of the Trikonchon, on 
p. 204, we read : — 

* The Palace of the Trikonchon was separated from the higher Palace of 
the Chrysotriklinos by the passage or gallery called the Lausiakon.' 

Proceeding a little further, and finding it expressly stated 
that there was an ascent into the Trikonchon, and remember- 
ing that there was a descent into the Tripeton, the reader will 
be sufficiently puzzled. By transposing the word Trikonchon 
and Chrysotriklinos, he will have the true meaning. The 
literal translation of the words of Dr. PaspatSs is : — 

' The passage or gallery, called the Lausiakos, separated the Palace of 
the Chrysotriklinos from the higher parts (of the Palace). ' 

Another confusing statement occurs on p. 208, but is due to 
Dr. PaspatSs himself. * North of the Lausiakos stood a build- 
ing called the Trikonchon.* But the Trikonchon was most dis- 
tinctly west of the Lausiakos, according to the author s own plan. 
Ascending then, from the Hall of Lausos, the writer would 
first reach the chamber of the three bays or apses, the Trikon- 
chon, in the western side of which three doors communicated 
with a hall shaped like the old form of the Greek letter sigma 
(C) and hence called the Sigma. The walls of both these 
rooms were covered with variously coloured marbles, and both 
were roofed in. Underneath were similarly shaped vaults, to 
which one went down by spiral stairs. One bay of the vault 

2tM Tht' (ireat Palace of Con$tantinople. 

under the Trikouchon wan built by Theophilos, and oalled 
.}fystt'rionj the room bein^ a sort of * whispering gallery/ 
West of the Sigma was a place called the * Mystic PbialS,' or 
Secret Fount^iiu — a court with an apse in which there was a 
fountain. * Here there were steps of white Prokonnesian 
marble, and in the centre of them a marble arch springing 
from two slender marble pillars. By the eastern side of the 
adjoining Sigma were two bronze lions, from whose gaping 
mouths water continually poured, flooding the whole Sigma 
and refreshing the invited courtiers. On the occasion of a re- 
ception, the fountain was filled with pistachios, almonds, and 
pine-apples,' (p. 213). 

Into the rest of the Palace of the Trikonchon, consisting of 
less important chambers and chapels, in the space south of the 
three halls, which have been mentioned, I do not intend to 
enter. A glance at the plan of Dr. Paspates will show that a 
large portion of this space, extending down to the Hall of 
Justinian, has not been filled up. To the west of this Palace, 
and stretching the whole way from the Gallery of the DaphnS 
to the Hall of Justinian, he places the roofed and the unroofed 

From the plan and explanation of Dr. Paspates, it would ap- 
pear that the sight-seer, having reached the Secret Fountain, 
and wishing to visit the Palace of the Daphne, might either re- 
turn by the Trikonchon, and by a door in the north-side of that 
hall issue into the Gallery of the Forty Saints, and so reach the 
Gallery of the Daphne; or else might go directly to the Gallery 
of the Daphne, by passing through a western gate from the 
Court of the Secret Fountain, and taking a passage or path to 
the right. By whatever way he arrived in the Gallery of the 
Daphne, he would turn out of it on the right (north), and his 
eye would be met by three, possibly connected, buildings ; the 
Church of St. Stephen in the Daphne, the Octagon, and the 
Bedchamber of the Daphne. Dr. Paspates conjectures that the 
Quinisextan Council was held in this Octagon, a building of 
eight porches.* 

* Some note should have been taken of the apparent contradiction be- 
tween the ' eight porches ' of p. 228 {6ktu (rrods) and the * four porches * of 
p. 231 (rerpadlffiov). 

The Great Palace of Constantinople. 265 

But now we are at a loss how to guide our visitor fur- 
ther ; we find ourselves in a nest of inconsistencies. From 
the Bedchamber of the Daphne, Dr. Paspates takes us into the 
Gallery of St. Stephen, which, he says, (p. 233), was a passage 
leading from that Bedchamber to the Gallery of the Augusteus 
(another name for the Gallery of the Daphne). But when we 
turn to his plan, we find the Gallery of St. Stephen identified 
with that of the Augusteus. Our first idea is that the identifi- 
cation in the plan is a mere mistake, but when we read that 
the Gallery of St. Stephen (p. 234), ' divided the Octagon, the 
Church of St. Stephen, and the Hall of the Augusteus, from 
the [Palace] Hippodrome, which lay to the south of them,' — 
a description which exactly applies to the Gallery of the 
Augusteus — we are completely puzzled. We have one state- 
ment in the text contradicting the plan, and another bearing 
out the plan. 

There is another serious inconsistency of statement, in the 
same spot, in regard to the Hall of the Augusteus. This hall,^ 
we are told on p. 234, ' extended from the Octagon and the 
Church of the Daphne to the gallery of the same name ' (i.e. of 
the Daphne). But a few sentences further on we learn (p. 
235) that this hall *lay north of the Octagon.' Now the Octagon 
was north of the gallery of the Daphne, and if the Augusteus 
extended from the Octagon to the gallery, it cannot be rightly 
described as north of the Octagon ; it would be to the south 
of it. The plan, not very clear here, indicates the Augusteus 
as north-east of the Octagon ; but if, according to the state- 
ment I have quoted, it extended to the gallery of the same 
name, the true description would be East of the Octagon. I 
am quite unable to see why Dr. Paspates, who has so boldly 
marked on his plan the boundaries and figures of the other 
halls and chambers, suddenly becomes shy in the case of the 
Augusteus, for which, it seems to me, he has quite as much, 
or rather as little, evidence as for many of the others. On the 
hypothesis that in the general lines of his reconstruction Dr. 
Paspates were right, the most plausible localization of the 
Augusteus would surely be east of t lie Octagon, occupying the 
whole space from the Gallery of the Augusteus to the Golden 

2t>6 The Great Palace of Constantinople, 

Hand. The statement that the Emperor went through the 
Augiisteus to reach tlie Octagon (p. 234) is certainly not borne 
out by the passage adduced to support it ; * and when we are 
told by Constantine Porphyrogennctos that * their Majesties 
change their "pagan" r*)bes in the bedchamber of the Daphne, 
and going out to the octagonal bedchamber, proceed through 
the Augusteus,' there is no reason against supposing that, 
when they issued from the Octagon, they passed along part of 
the Gallery of the Auguateus, in order to reach the Augusteus 
itself. The ' great gate of the Augusteus' mentioned by Con- 
stantine might easily be supposed to have opened on the 

I do not intend to escort our visitor further, under the author's 
guidance, through the intricacies of the Golden Hand and 
Onopodion, the Consistory and the Lychnoi, the Hall of the 
Nineteen Accubita,t and the Hall of the Candidatea The 
method of exposition which Dr. Paspates adopted does him so 
little justice, tliat I thought it would be only fair to set forth 
the general outlines of his reconstruction in a clearer and more 
connected shape, especially as I am unable to accept it. To 
be quite candid, I cannot regard it as much more than an in- 
teresting tour de force; f»r I feel completely sceptical as to 
the possibility of reconstructing the Palace from the data 
which we possess at present. Our data are neither ample 
enough nor precise enough. 

And in regard to the two main points which differentiate 
the theory of Dr. Paspates from that of Labarte, I venture to 
say that Dr. Paspates has not made out his case. These two 
points are the position of the Augusteum and the situation of 
the Palace of the Daph? e ; and the second point depends on the 
first. In fact. Dr. Paspates' peculiar view as to the Augusteum 
is the key to all the important peculiarities in his scheme. 

* Constantine Porph. , i. , p. 72. The Emperor passes through the 
Augusteus, but to reach the Onopodion, not the Octagon. 

+ In regard to this hall, Dr. Paspates has fallen into a grave error. He 
has confused d/c/coi5j3tra with c^/coiJ^tra, and treats the totally diflferent Hall, 
Tuv i^Kov^hiavj as if it were the same, thus misinterpreting, e.g., Constan- 
tine, p. 11, and p. 717. 

The Great Palace of Constantinople. 267 

According to the scheme of Labarte,the Hippodrome adjoined 
the Palace ; the Emperors could enter the cathisma or ' Box ' 
of the Hippodrome without crossing any public place. The 
Augusteum was the open space included between St. Sophia 
on the north, the Palace wall on the east, and the Hippo- 
drome (with adjacent part of the Palace) on the south. The 
Palace of the Daphne lav between the Hippodrome and the 
Palace of the Trikonchon. The Gallery of the Augusteus ran 
from north to south, at right angles to the line of the Gallery 
of the Forty Saiuts. When Dr. PaspatSs conceived the new 
idea that the Augusteum divided the Hippodrome from the 
Palace, he was forced to make certain modifications in the 
plan of Labarte. The positions of the Golden Palace, of the 
Halls of Lausos and Justinian, of the Trikonchon and Sigma, 
of the Gate of the Skyla, were not affected by the whereabouts 
of the Augusteum ; and so they remain the same (apart from 
questions of detail) on the plan of Dr. Paspates as on the plan 
of Labarte. But it was clear there was no longer room for the 
Palace of the Daphne in the space to the west of the Palace of 
the Trikonchon. And consequently Dr. Paspates was forced 
to place the Palace of Daphne to the north. And as a further 
consequence, the Gallery of the Augusteus became a continua- 
tion of the Gallery of the Forty Saints. Thus the position of 
the Augusteum is the test question : from it flow, as conse- 
quences, the other main peculiarities of the reconstruction. 

Now Dr. Paspates has not adduced any evidence to establish 
his first principle. He has not found any certain traces of the 
Palace wall between St. Sophia and the south quarter of his 
Augusteum, (for his conjecture about the Numera cannot be 
regarded as more than a mere conjecture) nor yet to have found 
or identified in the space corresponding to his Augusteum, the 
remains of any buildings known to have stood in the Augus- 
teum. And while no passages of our authorities are made more 
easily explicable by his supposition, some passages become dis- 
tinctly uniYitelligible. There are several passages in Constan- 
tine Porphyrogennetos, which imply distinctly and unequivo- 
cally, as it seems to me, that the Emperor could pass from the 
Skyla into the Hippodrome directly without crossing any 

2(>8 The Great Palace of Constantinople. 

public space {e.g. p. 518). If we fiud an Emperor issuing from 
the Palace by a gate opposite to the east end of St. Sophia, 
and passing through the Augusteum to enter the Chureb, this 
description can, to say the least, not easily be reconciled with 
the view that the Augusteum was where Dr. Paspates puts it 
The problem which Dr. Paspatus girded himself up so man- 
fully to solve, is a fascinating one, but at present it is insoluble. 
Until Constantinople is restored to Europe, or until her present 
Asiatic rulers sweep away the slums in the neighbourhood of 
St. Sophia and the Hippodrome, and permit a company of 
trained archaeologists to excavate, any attempt to reconstruct 
the Great Palace must be merely an exercise of the fancy. 
The observations of portions of ancient walls, of vaults, and of 
isolated old buildings, which Dr. Paspates made, are not suf- 
ficient to establish identifications. I find myself here in com- 
plete accordance with the views of a Russian scholar, D. Th. 
Bieliaiev, who has recently devoted a volume (the name of 
which is placed at the head of this article) to an instructive 
criticism of Labarte. He points out very clearly how the data 
(mainly contained in the De Cerimoniis of Constantine VIL) 
fall short of satisfying the conditions which must be fulfilled in 
order to determine a plausible (not to say, probable) construc- 
tion of the Palace. Of the great rooms, which are so fre- 
quently mentioned in connection with the ceremonies, neither 
the dimensions nor the shapes (except in one Or two cases) are 
given, and in those few cases where the contiguity of two 
rooms or buildings is certain, the nature of their contiguity is 
never precisely described. And in the next place, the rooms 
which Constantine mentions are only those which were used on 
the occasion of ceremonies — throne-rooms, reception-halls, and 
such like. We know that there must have been a multitude of 
other rooms in the Palace — the dwelling-rooms of the various 
members of the imperial family, and of numerous officials. 
Without some idea of the number, and some clue to the posi- 
tion of these houses and apartments, it is obviously impossible 
to define, even in general outline, the plan of the Great Palace. 
The researches of Dr. Paspates serve to stimulate curiosity and 
provoke further investigation. It is to be hoped that his book. 

Scottish Arms and Tartans, 269 

introduced to the British public in an attractive form by Mr. 
Metcalfe, will arouse interest in this tantalizing problem, which 
the presence of the Turkish intruder in Europe prevents us 
from approaching in the only way which can conduct to even 
an approximate solution. 

J. B. Bury. 


1. Ancient Scottish Weapons. A Series of Drawings by the 

late James Drummond, R.S.A., with Introduction and 
Descriptive Notes by Joseph Anderson. 

2. Old and Rare Scottish Jartans, With Historical Introduc- 

tion and Descriptive Notices by Donald William 
Stewart, F.S.A., Scot 

IN the opening of his lecture on ' The Deteriorative Power of 
Conventional Art on Nations,' delivered many years ago 
at the South Kensington Museum, and since published in his 
volume entitled The Two Paths^ Mr. Ruskin has dwelt, with 
all his accustomed eloquence, upon the impression produced 
on him by a first tour through the north of Scotland. The 
main fact that fixed itself in the mind of this eminent critic of 
nature and of art, was the all but utter absence, from the 
district which he had traversed, of any beautiful works pro- 
duced by human hands. * It was the first time in my life,' he 
says, ' that I had been in any country possessing no valuable 
monuments or examples of art.' * The solitary peel-house is 
hardly discernible by the windings of the stream ; the roofless 
aisle of the priory is lost among the enclosures of the village.' 
' The Highland cottage is literally a heap of grey stones, 
choked up, rather than roofed over, with black peat and 
withered heather; the only approach to decoration consists in 
the placing of the clods of protective peat obliquely on its 
roof, so as to give a diagonal arrangement of lines, looking 

270 Scottish Arm$ and Tartans. 

Bomewhat as if the Burface had beou scored over by a gigantic 

And HR Mr. Ruskin travelled, news were coming, day by day, 
of the Indian Mutiny, in progress at the time, and of the 
horoinm of the Highland regiments that withstood the rebels; 
and he was led irresistibly to contrast, in his own mind, the 
differing moral temper of the two races then in conflict, — ^the 
artless and faithful Celt, and the delicately artful, fiercely 
blood-thirsty, Indian. 

But this view of the absence of art and its remains from 
Scotland, which Mr. Ruskin put so forcibly, is, after all, a very 
partial and one-sided estimate of the matter. Surely even a 
passing tourist might have lingered in no unadmiring mood 
beneath the mighty arches of Elgin, and under the graceful 
towers of Spynie ; and as he stood before the carved stones of 
Nigg and Dunfallandy, of Shandwick and Kilmartin and 
Kossie Priory, he might have been led into something like 
wonder at the richly elaborate decoration which these present, 
led to * marvel ' — 

*' That such sweetness so well crowned could be 
Betwixt the ice-hills and the cold grey sea ' 

of our wild northern land. 

And his sense of the interesting, individual, and varied art 
that has been produced among Highland hills would have 
been deepened, if he had further investigated the subject, and 
studied the rich artistic relies of the past in Scotland — in metal^ 
leather and wood- work, in stone-carving, and in the decora- 
tion of manuscripts — ^that are preserved in public museums 
and private collections. Certainly, enough still survives to 
prove that the Highlander were very far indeed from being 
th(Mirtles8 race that Mr. Ruskin would have us believe; to 
prove, on tlie contrary, that the North of Scotland possessed, 
as has been well said by Dr. Joseph Anderson, 'a national 
school of decorative art, presenting qualities and characteristics 
which are by no means destitute pf merit and suggestiveness, 
and may therefore possess a higher value and wider utility 
than mere curiosities in the history of art/ 

Scottish Arms and Tartans, 271 

And if, still further, Mr. Ruskia had bestowed sufficient study 
upon the art of Scotland to obtain a clear conception of the 
leading characteristics that distinguish it, he might well have 
been led to doubt the truth of the position which he adopted, 
and amplified, in his lecture : he might, at least, have hesitated 
to adduce the Highlands of Scotland in evidence of that 
position. For the lecturer proceeded to explain, by the 
assumption that the pursuit of conventional art degrades a 
race, the fact that 'the rude cheques of the tartan fold 
habitually over nobler breasts than are covered by the 
exquisitely fancied involutions of the Cashmere/ But the 
truth is that the art which was extensively produced in the 
Highlands, and was characteristic of the race producing it, was 
an art as conventional in its method as the art of India ever 
was. The art that is associated with the Highlands of Scot- 
land was produced by a race substantially Celtic, working 
under art traditions purely Celtic ; and the charm of that art 
never comes from any close relation that it bears to nature. 
The closer it approaches to the portrayal of natural form, the 
more of feebleness and inaptitude it displays. It is weakest of 
all when it deals with the human form ; and in proportion as 
the figures of animals which it introduces are monstrous and 
non-natural, just in that degree they are spirited and 
efiective. The whole school of Celtic art is founded upon the 
delight of the race producing it in the abstract quality of 
decorative lines — of spirals, interlacements, and curious 
involutions ; lines selected simply for their own independent 
grace and richness and beauty, apart altogether from any 
suggestion of the forms of visible things that are presented to 
us in the natural world. 

And, in passing, it may be noticed that Mr. Ruskin's choice, 
for reproduction, of an example of debased conventional 
design, an example of ' the hopeless work of all ages,* was 
made as though with the deliberate design of stultifying 
his argument. It is a figure from the Psalter of St. John's 
College, Cambridge, which — though it was perhaps produced 
in Ireland — is thoroughly representative of the same school of^ 
art, and of the same conventional method, as the famous * Book 

212 &'o(tUh Arms and Tartans, 

of Deer/ also at (Cambridge, which was written and decoiuted 
in Buchan, Aberdeenshire, and which has been adduced by 
Dr. Anderson, in his Karly Christian Art^ as one of the most 
typical examples of the ' libri Scottice scripti* 

For the <;eneral reader, who is desirons of obtaining a clear 
and accurate view of the whole course of early art in Scotland, 
no better work can be recommended for study than the two 
interesting^ volumes of Dr. Joseph Anderson's ^Rhind Lectures' 
on 'Scotland in Early Christian Times;' but the ample folio 
whose title I have placed first at the bead of this article, enters 
with f^reater detail, and with greater adequacy of illustration, 
into the subject of that art as it is displayed in weapons, 
articles of personal adornment, musical instruments, and drink- 
in 1^ vessels. 

The book tornis a noble monument to the fine skill and the 
unwearied enthusiasm of the late James Drummond, R.S.A., 
the most eminent graphic antiquary that Scotland has pro- 
duced. Mr. Drummond's whole artistic life was devoted to the 
illustration of the antiquities of his native country. Almost 
without exception, his important figure-pictures portray scenes 
Irom her history, lie painted * Montrose on his way to Execu- 
tion,* ' The Covenanters in the Greyfriars Churchyard,' * The 
Porteous Mob/ and a multitude of similar subjects, with an 
earnest care for historical fact, and for archaeological accuracy 
in costume and surroundings, which gives a true value to his 
works of this class, though their handling is frequently rather 
hard and laboured, and though, on their purely artistic side, they 
too often fail of complete success. For indeed, in his best apti- 
tudes, Mr. Drummond was not a figure-painter, but a painter — 
a draughtsman — of still life. He was, not only archaeologi- 
cal ly, but also artistically, at his highest, when he was por- 
traying, with rare fidelity and exquisite refinement of touch 
and colouring, those lovely, time-stained relics of the past 
which he loved so well, and collected so unweariedly. The 
hundreds of coloured drawings facsimiled in the present 
volume of Scottish Weapons represent only a small portion 
of bis labours in similar directions ; as is proved by his exten- 
sive series of drawings of the sculptured monuments of lona 

Scottish Arms and Tartans. 273 

and the Western Highlands, in the possession of the Scottish 
Society of Antiquaries, and by his no less valuable series of 
views of Old Edinburgh Buildings, now exhibited in the 
Scottish National Portrait Gallery ; all of which have been 
made accessible to the public, in the form of well-executed 

The value of the present volume is greatly increased by Dr. 
Anderson's admirable descriptions of the various objects repro- 
duced, and by his introduction summarising their general char- 
acteristics. To those who may consult the volume with the 
view of extending their knowledge of old Scottish art, I would 
particularly recommend the study of Plates, Nos. xx. to xxv., 
reproducing Highland powder-horns, so exquisite in the 
elaborate richness of their carved patterns, which in one 
case — that of a horn formerly belonging to the Duke of 
Perth — are relieved in mellow white against a red-stained 
background. Not less exquisite are the Highland targets, 
Plates, Nos. i. to vii., with their rich examples of involved 
decoration, the effect of which is heightened by the introduc- 
tion of beautifully wrought metal bosses, and, sometimes, by 
the perforation of the leather coverings, so ds to disclose 
spaces of coloured fabric placed beneath. In this connection, 
it may be noticed that a particularly fine example of a High- 
land target, formerly in the possession of the Macdonalds of 
St. Martins, has recently been added to the Scottish National 
Museum of Antiquities. Its leather covering is richly tooled 
with four concentric bands of decoration ; the outer one con- 
sisting of a series of semi-circular spaces, each of which dis- 
plays a conventional figure, including lions, unicorns, foxes, 
birds devouring fish, etc. ; the next consisting of alternating 
compartments of interlacing ornament and of foliaceous forms ; 
while conventional Viecorative patterns occupy the two inner 
bands. The surface is further enriched with silver nails of 
varying sizes, and with a central boss of silver, inscribed with 
initials — presumably those of the particular Macdonald for 
whom the target was constructed, and the date 1715. 

Turning again to the reproductions of dirks, brooches, and 
musical instruments, we still find an exquisite decorative 
xxiii. 1 8 

274 Seottuth Arms ami Tartans. 

inBtiiict visible iu their cnrichmeuts, evidence enough that 
* love * — love of his craft aud love of beauty — has been 

' Still at work with the artiticery 
Through all hia quaint deviaing ; ' 

evidence that the old traditions of Celtic art held sway, and 
produced lovely results in Northern Scotland up till a quite 
recent period. 

I might linger loTig over the plates of this beautiful volume ; 
those who have the book open before them will hardly resist 
the pleasure of doing so ; but I must now pass on to a con- 
sideration of the second work whose title I have set at the 
head of this article, Mr. Stewart's elaborate treatise on Old 
ami Rare Scotiuh Tartans. 

Its subject is one so curious and so national that it has natur- 
ally attracted much attention; indeed in the bibliography 
included in the present volume there are specified thirteen 
works dealing either exclusively, or in great part, with the 
Tartans of the Scottish Clans; and in this list we find no 
reference to such publications as the above mentioned work on 
Ancient Scottish Weapons^ or to Dr. Skene's Highlanders of 
Scotland^ or to Lord Archibald Campbell's Records of Argyliy 
all of which contain interesting notes on Tartans and their use. 
Mr. Stewart, however, may claim to have studied the subject 
with a care and closeness such as have not hitherto been 
bestowed upon it. He has exhaustively examined the various 
collections of old Tartans belonging to the Highland Society 
of London, Dr. Skene, and other private owners. He has 
also travelled much in Scotland, to investigate old family 
portraits in which Tartans appear, and in this way he has been 
able to correct some of the errors of previous writers : while 
the illustrations of his volume, being squares of fabrics actually 
woven, are far more authentic and adequate than the litho- 
graphed or hand-coloured plates that have been formerly used. 

Mr. Stewart's lengthened preface contains a careful compila- 
tion of early references to Highland costume. The first of 
these occurs iu the Saga of Magnus Barefoot, King of Norway, 
1093-1103, written by Snorro Sturleson, who was reared with 

Scottish Arms and Tartans. 275 

the children of that monarch's daughter. Here it is stated that 
Magnus and his men, on their return from a marauding 
expedition to the West of Scotland, * brought with them a 
great deal of the habits and fashions of clothing of these 
western parts. They went about the streets with bare legs, 
and had short kirtles and over-cloaks, and therefore his men 
called him Magnus Barefoot or Bareleg.' 

In the thirteenth century we seem to have something like a 
first reference to actual tartans in the statutes of the church 
of Aberdeen, which provide that * all ecclesiastics are to be 
suitably apparelled, avoiding red, green, and striped clothing, 
and their garments shall not be shorter than the middle of the 

But it should be noticed that the word * tartar,' which 
occurs, in the fifteenth century, in the Accounts of the Lord 
High Treasurer of Scotland, and which was regarded, by both 
Borthwick and Pinkerton, as meaning tartan, really indicates, 
as pointed out by Dr. Dickson, a fabric of eastern origin, 
frequently ' variant ' or shot, the warp and woof being of 
contrasting colours. 

We find, however, a true reference to tartan, in the same 
Accounts, in the following century ; for in August, 1538, there 
appears an entry for ' iij. elnis of Heland tartan e to be hoiss to 
the Kingis grace,' these * hoiss' or trews being evidently 
intended to be worue with ' ane schort Heland coit,' accounted 
for under the same date. 

It may be mentioned that the trews were sometimes worn 
along with the belted plaid or kilt, though, as far as I know, 
no modern painter has ventured to represent the combination 
in any rendering of a scene from Highland history or legend. 
They appear, worn together, on one of the figures carved on 
the powder horn figured in Plate xx. of Drummond's Ancient 
Scottish Weapons^ and believed to represent Sir George Mac- 
kenzie of Tarbert, who was born in 1630 ; and also in one of 
the three full-length figures of Lacy, the actor of Charles the 
Second's time, at Hampton Court, in which he is portrayed as 
the ' Sawny ' of his own play of * The Taming of the Shrew,' 
a play which Pepys notes in his Diary that he saw on 9th 

I^7(i Scott ij*h ArfM and Tartans^ 

April IRGT : — *• It luith Home very good pieces in it, but gener- 
ally iH but a mean play, and the best part, " Sawny/' done by 
La(*y ; and hath not half itH life, by reason of the words, I sup- 
pose, not bt'iiig understood, at least by me.' The picture, 
of Laey wan painted by Joseph Michael Wright, a native of 
Sf.'otland, who died in 1675, and will be found reproduced 
by Lord Archibald Campbell in the Records of Argyll. In the 
account of Wright in Walpole's TAvetf of the Painters^ it is 
stated that ^ two of his most admired works were a Highland 
Laird and an Irish Tory, whole lengths, in their proper dresses, 
of which several copies were made.' It would be interesting, 
in the present connection, if it were known where these 
pictureH now are. 

We have further assurance of the wearing of the trews in 
combination with the kilt in various contemporary writings, 
an, for instance, in a letter from Robert Farquharson, a chap- 
Iain in liar's army in 1715, quoted in the ' Costumes of the 
Chns^ and, still earlier, in Thomas Kirk's Tour in Scotland in 
1()77, first cited by Mr. Stewart as bearing on this subject of 
Highland costume. 

The ordinary long tight hose, which were a usual article 
of niedia^val dress all over the Continent, have sometimes been 
nn'staken for the Highland trews. Thus Sir John Sinclair, in 
his article ' On the Highland Dress,' in the Scots Magazine for 
October, 179(5, refers to * an engraving of James L of Scotland, 
ill the possession of George Chalmers, Esq., of the Board of 
Trade, in which that monarch is dressed in the close trews.* 
This book-illustration was known to our earlier Scottish anti- 
quaries only as an isolated print, and this unfortunate fact has 
hid to various curious errors, of which the above is one. The 
untitled plate has been repeatedly engraved as a portrait of 
.lames I., but a reference to the letter-press of the work of 
which it forms an illustration. Von Ehingen's Itinerarium 
(Augsburg 1600), shows that it is actually intended as a re- 
presentation of James II. ; and the hose that appear in it are 
exactly similar to those worn by all the Continental potentates 
portrayed in the other plates of the book. 

Interesting accounts of Highland dress have been preserved 

Scottish Arms and Tartans, 277 

by Bishop Leslie and by George Buchanan, the former ap- 
parently indicating that tartan was mainly worn by the upper 
classes, in a passage quaintly translated from the original 
Latin by Father James Dalrymple, in 1596, as follows: — 'They 
al vset mantilis of ane forme, baith the Nobilitie and the com- 
mone people, excepte that the Nobilitie delyted mair in 
coloured claith and sindrie trewis.' Jean de Beaugue, who 
accompanied the French troops sent to aid the Scots against 
the English in 1548, refers, in his history of the campaign 
published in Paris in 1556, to the 'certaines convertures 
legeres faites de laine de plusieurs couleurs/ worn by the 
Highlanders at the siege of Haddington ; and Nicolay d'Arfe- 
ville, Cosmographer to the King of France, in his account of a 
visit to Scotland, published in Paris in 1583, mentions the 
Highlanders wearing, *like the Irish, a large full shirt, coloured 
with saffron, and over this a garment hanging to the knee, of 
thick wool, after the manner of a cassock.' 

Among the more interesting of the seventeenth century 
notices are those of John Taylor, *the Water Poet,' in his 
Penny less Pilgrimage^ — a traveller who had especially favourable 
opportunities for studying Highland customs, for, during his 
visit to Scotland in 1681, he resided with the Earl of Mar and 
other Highland chiefs. It will be remembered that his account 
of a Highland hunting-match is referred to by Sir Walter 
Scott in Waver ley. Again, all through the lines of the Grameid, 
a poem written in 1691, we see the flashings of the coloured 
tartans. In the closing years of the seventeenth century M. 
Martin visited the North, and embodied the results of his ob- 
servation in A Description of the Western Islands of Scotland^ of 
which the first edition appeared in 1703, and the second, * very 
much corrected,' in 1716. This work contains a tolerably full 
and detailed account of Highland costume, including one par- 
ticularly significant passage, to which I shall presently return. 

In the beginning of the eighteenth century we find in the 
Letters from the North of Scotland^ written by Captain Burt, 
an oflBcer of engineers, entrusted by General Wade with the 
formation of his famous roads, the most complete account of 
the Highlands and their inhabitants that had yet appeared. 

278 Scottish Anna and Tartans. 

He gives a full description of the Highland dress, and states 
' various reasons both for and against ' it Among the latter 
he mentions that ' the part of the habit chiefly objected to is 
the pinid (or mantle)/ which, it has been said, * is calculated 
for the encouragement of an idle life, in lying about among 
the heath, in the day-time, instead of following some lawful 
employment ; that it serves to cover them in the night when 
they lie in wait among the mountains, to commit their 
robberies and depredations ; and is composed of such colours 
as altogether, in the mass, so nearly resemble the heath on 
which they lie, that it is hardly to be distinguished from it 
until one is so near them as to be within their power, if they 
have any evil intentions ; that it renders them ready, at a 
moment's warning, to join any rebellion, as they carry continu- 
ally their tents about with them ; and lastly, it was thought 
necessary, in Ireland, to suppress that habit by Act of Parlia* 
meut, for the above reasons, and no complaint for the want of 
it now remains among the mountaineers of that country.' On 
the other hand, he tells us that ' it is alleged the dress is more 
convenient to those who, with no ill design, are obliged to 
travel from one part to another upon their lawful occasions, 
viz., * that they would not be so free to skip over the rocks 
and bogs with breeches as they are in the short petticoat,' that 
they would suflFer more from the dampness of their climate, and 
from the necessity of wading through the streams; that the 
distances from one place of shelter to another are so great, that 
travellers must often lie in the open, where the plaid is the best 
possible covering, and finally, that ' a few sbilliugs will buy 
this dress for an ordinary Highlander, who, very probably, 
might hardly even be in a condition to purchase a Lowland 
suit, though of the coarsest cloth or stuff, fit to keep him warm 
in that cold climate.' He adds, *the whole people are fond and 
tenacious of the Highland clotliing, as yon may believe by 
what is here to follow,' and he goes on to relate an anecdote 
of a companion, * a Highland gentleman, who was one of the 
clan through which I was passing. I observed the women to 
be in great auger with him about something that I could not 
understand ; at length I asked him wherein he had offended 

Scottish Arms and Tartans. 279 

them ? Upon this question he laughed, and told me his great- 
coat was the cause of their wrath, and their reproach was that 
he could not be contented with the garb of his ancestors, but 
was degenerated into a Lowlander, and condescended to 
follow their unmanly customs/ Among Captain Burt's other 
remarks, he mentions that few besides gentlemen wore the 
trowze, and that they were a part of ' full dress,' chiefly worn 
' in the lowlands, or when they make a neighbouring visit, or 
go anywhere on horseback,' the kilt being ordinarily worn 
when they travel on foot. 

During the period immediately following the Union, and for 
some years later, the wearing of tartan plaids seems greatly 
to have increased in the Lowlands, their assumption forming a 
kind of silent protest of Scottish nationality. Ramsay of 
Ochtertyre, writing in 1795, tells us that *in 1747, when I first 
knew Edinburgh, nine-tenths of the ladies still wore plaids, 
especially in church. By this time, however, silk or velvet 
cloaks of one form or another were much in request among 
people of fashion. And so rapidly did the plaid wear out, that 
when I returned to Edinburgh, in 1752, one could hardly see 
a lady in that piece of dress.' 

Among the results of the Rebellion of 1745 was the Act of 
the following year, which provided that — * From and after the 
first day of August, one thousand seven hundred and forty 
seven, no man or boy within that part of Great Britain called 
Scotland, other than such as shall be employed as oflScers or 
soldiers in his Majesty's forces shall, on any pretence whatso- 
ever, wear or put on the clothes commonly called Highland 
Clothes (that is to say) the Plaid, Philibeg, or little Kilt, Trowse, 
Shoulder belts, or any part whatsoever of what peculiarly 
belongs to the Highland garb ; and that no Tartan or party- 
coloured plaid or stuff shall be used for great-coats, or for 
upper coats,' on a penalty of six months imprisonment for the 
first offence, and, for the second, of transportation * to any of 
his Majesty's plantations beyond the seas, there to remain for 
the space of seven years.' 

The Act was not only regarded in the Highlands as a 
national insult, but its requirements were found to be practic- 

2?<0 Scottish Armn ami Tartans. 

ally most iucouveiiieut by uu active race, accustomed to the 
uiieonfined freedom of limb afforded by their ancestral garb. 
The tight breeches of the Southerner were especially unesdor- 
able. VariouH evasions of the Act were resorted to. Some- 
times the kilt was stitched together between the thighs, so as 
to present a colourable resemblance to the lowland trousera 
Sometimes, according to General Stewart, in his Sketches^ the 
breeches were duly purchased, and instead of being worn 
on the limbs, suspended on a stick over the shoulders, as a 
sign of submission, while their owner strode along in all the 
freedom of a much airier nether covering ! 

But while the requirements of the Act were rigoroudy 
insisted upon in the Highlands, the sale and wearing of tartan 
seems to have continued uninterruptedly in the Lowlands, for 
Mr. Stewart quotes advertisements from the Edinburgh Evening 
Couiant of 17G0, in which the sale of the stock of * William 
Watson, in the front of the New Exchange of Edinburgh,' 
including ' tartans of all kinds,' is announced, and ' James 
Baillie, Merchant in Edinburgh,' intimates the removal of his 
warehouse ' to the Exchange, fronting the Tron, where 
Tartans and Plaids with other goods are sold as formerly.' 

Finally, a Bill for the repeal of the obnoxious Act of 1746 
was introduced into the House of Commons in 1782, by the 
Marquis of Graham, afterwards Duke of Montrose, and passed 
without a dissentient voice. The wearing of the national garb 
was speedily resumed in the Highlands ; and the Rev. John 
Lane Buchanan, in his Travels in the Western Islands from 1782 
to 1 790, refers to ' the short coat, the feilabeg, and the short hose ' 
worn by the men. * Their coats are common tartan, striped 
with black, red, or some other colour, after a pattern made 
upon a stick, of the yarn, by themselves, or some other 
ingenious contriver. Their waistcoats are either of the same^ 
or some such stuff; but the feilabegs are commonly of breacan, 
or fine Stirling plaids, if their money can afford them.' 

In his Introduction Mr. Stewart does not enter upon the 
interesting subject of the adoption of Highland tartans as part 
of the uniforms of the British army. According to Lord 
Archibald Campbell, when the independent companies, known 

Scottish Arms and Tartans. 281 

as Am Freiceadan Dubh, were raised, they wore ' their own clan 
tartans/ such as those of the Campbells, Grants, and Munroes ; 
and that, when four additional companies were raised in 
1 739, the various tartans were merged by design, — when the 
tartans now known as the 42nd was made out, and the 43rd 
Regiment, now 42nd, clothed uniformly in the same.* 

From the extracts that I have quoted, and from the others 
cited by Mr. Stewart, it is evident that tartans have been worn 
in the Highlands from an early period : but the question of 
when the various * setts ' were assumed as the distinctive dress 
of different clans, is a diflBcult and perplexing one. Mr» 
Stewart's careful researches have brought together a few pas- 
sages, from early writings of various kinds, bearing upon the 
subject, though the evidence they furnish is slighter and more 
indefinite than one might have desired. 

The earliest of these is a curious and interesting one, occur- 
ring in a Crown Charter, dated 19th March 1587-8, granting a 
lease of the lands of *NeiTabolsadh,'in Islay, to Hector Makclene, 
son and heir-apparent to Lachlan Makclene of Dowart. The 
feu-duty payable by him is specified as ' Ix ellis claith quhite 
blak and grene cullouris respective,' or their equivalent in 
money. The same feu-duty, as due by ' Hector M*Clane,' is again 
mentioned in the entry of the lands — which had formerly be- 
longed to * the Abbot of the Isle of lona,' — in the * Register of 
the Temporalities of the Crown.' But in 1617 a Crown Charter 
grants the same feu to Rorie M*Kenzie of Cogeauche, and now 
the duty is specified in the reddendo as * thrie-scoir ellis of 
quhyte, blak, and gray claith respective.' Again, in 1630, the 
lands return to the Makclene family, to Lauchlane Makclene 
of Dowart and his heirs, and the original colours are restored 
in the specification of the feu-duty requu^ed — ^ thrie score elnis 
of claith quhyte, blak, and gras cuUour.' Now the colours 
mentioned in the cloth to be furnished by the Makclenes are 
those which have always been regarded as forming the* 
MacLean tartan, the colours referred to the old Gaelic song — 

Records of Argyll, p. 443. 

2S'2 Scottish Arms and Tartans. 

' Breacan unaiii' 'ui dubb 'us greal ; 

Daha sar Mhich-Ohillian am flath* 
' The |»laid (if jpreen and black and white ; 

The colours of the brave MacLean,' 

'W'hic'h arc reproduced in the plates of the present work at 
* MacLean, Hunting.* 

Ill Martin's Description of the Western Islands of Scotland^ 
which, as I have already said, embodies the results of its 
author's travels iu the end of the seventeenth century, it is 
noted that * Every Isle differs from each other in their Fancy 
of making Flads^ as in the Stripes, in Breadth, and Colours. 
This Humour is as different through the main land of the 
Highlands^ in-so-far as they who have seen those Places are 
able, at the first view of a man's Plady to guess the Place of 
his Uosidence.' 

There exist a few interesting references to the tartan worn 
by the Clan Grant, which may be quoted. On the 23rd July 
1703, we find Captain Hamilton writing, from Inverness, to 
Brigadier-General Maitland, Governor of Fort-William, * I 
wrote to you on Tuesday last in answer to your last letter to 
me, but I neglected to acquaint you of our news here. The 
thing is, there is a match of Hunting to be, as is said, against 
2nd of next month, amongst several of our great folks, particu- 
larly the Duke of Hamilton is to be there, the Marquis of 
Athole, and our neighbour the Laird of Grant, who has ordered 
600 of his men in arms, in good order, with Tai^tane coats all 
of one colour and fashion. This is his order to the people of 
Strathspey. If it be a match at Hunting only I know not, 
but I think it my duty to acquaint you, whatever may fall out, 
of any such body of men in arms, particularly our Northern 
Parts.' • ' 

Two other curious extracts, of a slightly later date, regard- 
ing the Grant tartan are given — for the first time in their 
entirety — by Mr. Stewart, from the Court Books of the Regality 
of Grant. The first is from an entry of a ' Court of the Lord- 
ship of the parocliine of Duthell,' held on 20th July, 1704, in 
which * Ronald Makdonald of Gelloway and Archibald Mak- 
doTiald of Tulloch Combie, wassales of Lugan in Badzenoch to 


Scottish Arms and Tartans. 283 

the Right Hono^ Ludovick Grant of that Ilk and the tennantes 
and indwellers on these lands/ are ordered to have 'readie tar- 
tan short coates threwes and short hose of red and green set 
dyce all broad springed betuixt [?] and the eight of August 
nixt and to be readie upon 48 hours advertisement to rende- 
vowze when the Laird of Grant shall call them for his hosting 
or hunteing under the failie of fyve pounds sterling/ The 
second entry is from the record of a * Court of the Landes of 
Tulchiue and Skieradvey/ held at Delay upon the 27th July, 
1704, when, *by order from the Laird of Grant, younger/ it 
was enacted that Hhe haill tennantes cottars malenders trades- 
men and servantes within the saidis landis of Skearadvie 
Tulchine and Calender that are fencible men shall provyd and 
have in readiness against the eight day of August nixt ilk ane 
of them Heighland coates trewes and short hose of tartan of 
red and greine sett broad springed and also with gun sword 
pistoll and durk, and with these present themselves to ane 
rendswouzse when called upone 48 hours advertisement within 
the country of Strathspey, for the said Laird of Grant or his 
father their hosting and hunting. And this under the failie of 
twenty poundes Scotis ilk ane that shall faill in the premisses. 
And the Master to outrig the servantes in the saids coates 
trewes and hose out of their fies.' 

These entries certainly indicate that the Laird of Grant, and 
his son who was acting for him, had very definite ideas on the 
subject of their clan tartan, and were resolved that it should be 
adopted by all their dependents ; but it should be mentioned 
that the ' red and greine sett/ referred to above, is far from 
identical from the only Grant tartan figured by Mr. Stewart, in 
which black squares and a thin white line appear prominently. 
]\Ir. Stewart's example was reproduced from a portrait of 
Robert Grant of Lurg (1678-1777) at Troup House, who also 
appears in another portrait at Castle Grant in the 'Black 
Watch tartan.' But the extraordinary diversity of tartans 
worn by members of the house in the portraits at Castle Grant 
painted by Richard Waitt, goes far to prove that during the 
earlier years of the eighteenth century, little uniformity of 
tartan had been preserved by that clan at least. 

2H4 Scottish Arffia and Tartatis, 

At a somewhat lator period than 1704 there is an indication 
that the various branches of the Macdonalds were siniilarlj 
tartaiied in a passage occurring in A Journal of the Exptdi" 
tion of Prince Charles Ktltcurd, in 1745, iy a Highland Ojffieer^ 
pubhshed in tlie second volume of the Lockhart Papers. Here 
the writer states tliat, * We M'Donalds were much perplex'd 
in the event of an engagement, how to distinguish ourselves 
from our brethren and nighbours, the McDonalds of Sky, 
seeing we were both Highlanders and both wore heather in 
our bonnets, only our white cocades made some distinction. 

The above reference to the pictures at Castle Grant brings 
US to a consideration of what evidence, as to the early exist- 
ence of clan tartans, is afforded by the surviving examples of 
Scottish portraiture. Into this part of his subject Mr. Stewart 
has entered with the care and perseverance that has marked 
all his investigations. As I have already said, he has traversed 
the length and breadth of Scotland, nay he has even crossed 
the seas and visited its Western Islands, to examine portraits 
in which tartans are introduced ; and the results of his research 
have been embodied in the present volume, and in an interest- 
ing series of notes contributed to the Scottish Antiquary of 
September, 1892, and January and April, 1893. 

The believers in the antiquity of distinctive clan tartans 
would surely have expected to find that in early portraits de- 
picting a chief or an important member of a Highland house, in 
his national garb, the tartan introduced would be that of his 
clan. The facts disclosed by Mr. Stewart's researches are far 
other; and the results of his investigations must be pronounced 
to be very definitely unfavourable to the theory of the early 
adoption of distinctive and differentiating clan tartans. 

The ten portraits of members of the Clan Grant, at Castle 
Grant, painted by Richard Waitt, between 1713 and 1725, dis- 
close ' a variety of design well-nigh as great as would be the 
case in an an equal number of examples selected at random 
from as many different families. . . . Similar remarks 
might be made concerning other family portraits. For 
example, in the MacDonald portraits at Armadale, there are at 
least six distinct setts of tartan. The Campbell portraits at 

Scottish Arms and Tartans*, 285 

Loudoun Castle and Langton House exhibit equal diversity, 
while difiering at the same time from any of the Campbell 
setts at present in use. In the same way the pictures of the 
Sutherland family at Dunrobin and Barrogill, the MacDonell 
portraits at Balgownie, and the MacLeod at Dunvegan, the 
Drummond at Gordon Castle and Drummond Castle, the 
Macpherson at Cluny, the Frasers in Inverness-shire, show 
remarkable variety in arrangement' Mr. Stewart further 
adds that ' whatever the reason of this, it assuredly did not 
arise from carelessness or ignorance on the part of the artists 
employed. On the contrary, in the great majority of the 
pictures referred to, painful attention has been paid to minute- 
ness and accuracy in details of dress, and the sett of a tartan 
is reproduced in different portions of a costume with a faith- 
fulness which leaves no room for doubt that the artists were 
studiou^^ly copying distinct patterns.' 

In further illustration of this important part of the subject I 
may quote a few notes from Mr. Stewart's articles in the 
Scottish Antiquary. In the portrait of Alastair Macdonell of 
Glengarry — who played an important part in the Forty-five — 
attended by a servant, at Balgownie, 'both figures are 
dressed in tartans which, while closely decipherable, differ from 
each other and from any pattern at present in use, and bear 
not the slightest resemblance to the modern Glengarry or other 
Macdonald tartan/ In his Old and R(ire Scottish Tartans, how- 
ever, Mr. Stewart identifies the tartan worn by Glengarry as 
that of the Maclans, and explains its appearance here by the 
fact that the Maclans were a branch of the Clan Macdonald. 
The portrait of John Campbell, Lord Glenorchy, afterwards 
Earl of Breadalbane, at Langton, painted by Kneller in 1708, 
* shows a tartan carefully drawn,' which * differs utterly from 
any known Campbell pattern, and this is the earliest record of 
what must be regarded as a clan pattern of the Campbells, if 
clan tartans were then in use, as commonly alleged.' In the 
portrait of Kenneth, 3rd Lord Duffus, who was involved in the 
rising of 1715, at Barrogill Castle, Caithness, the tartan * is a 
pleasing arrangement of red, green, and white, altogether 
different from the presently accepted pattern of the families of 

286 Scottish AmiM and Tartans. 

Sutherland and SiDcIair, to which Lord Duffiis belong^.' In 
the portrait of Norman, 19th chief of the MacLeods, at Dan- 
vec^n Castle, ' red is the predominant colour of the tartan plaid, 
while coat and threws are of the *' Rob Roy " check, tartans 
entirely different from that now assigned to the family.' 

It may further be mentioned that in the portrait of Flora 
Macdonald, painted by Allan Ramsay, in the Bodleian at 
Oxford, certified as undoubtedly authentic by a contemporary 
engraving in mezzo-tint by M'Ardell duly titled with her name, 
she wears a plaid of red and green, quite different from the 
tartan associated with the clan. 

The fact is that in his whole book Mr. Stewart has not been 
able to instance one single tartan that he has reproduced, as 
appearing in a portrait of a member of the clan to whom he 
assigns it, painted earlier than the latter part of the eighteenth 
centurj'. Exceptions might be made in the cases of Plate i, 
' The Lord of the Isles,' Plate ii., and Plate xxxix., which has 
been variously regarded as representing the Countess of Lennox 
and her daugliter-in-law, Queen Mary, but in these three cases 
the tartans, in their peculiar characteristics, have been simply 
reproduced from portraits, and they are not known to exist, as 
figured, in any old examples of fabric. 

Many of the illustrations of the volume have been reproduced 
from fragments of tartan that are undoubtedly old, and they 
thus form interesting records of what certainly formed part of 
Scottish national costume in the past ; but such evidence as has 
been adduced to prove that they have been associated, from 
any remote period, with the families with whose names they 
have been titled, is far less conclusive than could be desired 
by the believers in the early origin of clan tartans. 

There are a few other interesting early representations of 
Scottish costume, which might fittingly have been referred to 
in the volume now under consideration. Thus Pinkerton, in 
his Scottish Poems, and John Sobieski Stuart, in the Vestiarium 
Scoticum, refers to a print in the Recueil de la diversitiS des 
Ilahets qui sont de present en usage (Paris, 1562), in which there 
appears ' an illustration of tartan, in the figure of a Low Coun- 
try Scot, engraved in a professed collection of the costumes 

Scottish Arms and Tartans, 287 

of various nations/ Upon this print, figured in Pinkerton's 
work, the latter writer remarks that 'the indications of tartan 
are in the trowsers of the figure, which are striped in triple 
lines, expressing distinct sets similar to those of the clan 
Gregor and some other patterns. These lines, however, are 
only given in the horizontal course ; and for this reason 
Pinkerton, with his accustomed presumption, passes the figure 
without notice ; and because that of the ffighland chief, in the 
same collection, is given in a, frieze and not a tartan plaid, he 
concludes that tartan did not exist at the period. But the 
frieze plaid was only one of the varieties of habit in which the 
Highland dress, like every other, possessed a diversity for 
various purposes. . . . Hence, in the entries of the Royal 
Wardrobe and Treasury, mention is made of " ane heland man- 
till of blak freis," and "heland tartaine to be hoise to the 
Kingis Grace," twenty-four years before the time of which 
Pinkerton doubted its existence in the Highlands.' 

It would have been interesting if we had been furnished 
with some account of the drawings of old Scottish costume 
included in the marvellously rich and extensive collection of 
drawings and other reproductions of objects of antiquarian 
interest brought together by Fran9ois-Roger de Gaigniires 
about the close of the seventeenth century, and now in the 
Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris. In the very useful catalogue 
of that collection, published in 1891 by M. Henri Bouchot — a 
catalogue including no fewer than 7321 items — the water- 
colours that I refer to appear as Nos. 1696 to 1701 inclusive, 
and comprise representations titled ' Gentilhomme ^cossais ; ' 
* Dame du royaume d'Ecosse ; ' ' Chambri^re d'Ecosse ; ' * Capi- 
taine ou chef de clan ; * * Soldat ecosse ; ' and * Femme des 
montagnes d'Ecosse.' 

It would also be interesting to know whether the volume of 
water-colour drawings by Lucas d'Heere, titled Theatre de tons 
les penples et nations de la teirre avec leurs habits et ornamens . 
. . and preserved in the library of Ghent, contains any re- 
presentations of Highland costumes. In 1554, and again in 
1568, d'Heere visited England, where he painted Queen Mary 

'2SS Scottish Arms and Tartans, 

Tudor aud Queen Elizabeth, and, among Scottish personages. 
Lord Darnley and his brother Charles. 

Again, there are preserved at Taymouth Castle some inter- 
esting works of art that bear upon the subject of Highland 
Costume. Among these is the celebrated * Genealogical Tree 
of the House of Glenorchy,' which was recently before the 
public in the Edinburgh Heraldic Exhibition of 1891. It is 
signed by George Jamesone of Aberdeen, the well known 
portrait painter, and bears the date of its execution, 1635. 
Various circular bust-portraits of chiefs of the House of Glen- 
orchy are introduced among the branches of the tree, all of 
them appearing in the doublet or cloak which was the usual 
Lowland costume of the time. But at the foot of the tree is 
one full-length seated figure, representing the founder of the 
house. Jamesone's authority for the features of this personage 
was a portrait, nearly to the waist, which he found hanging in 
his patron's castle, but for the rest of the figure he was left to 
his own devices. He has chosen to represent his subject as a 
Highlander in the national garb of kilt and short hose; and 
here, surely, we should expect to find a representation of the 
Campbell tartan, if any such tartan had been identified with 
the clan in the early part of the seventeenth century. But 
the painter, working at the time in the heart of the Campbell 
country, and in the castle of its chief, and portraying the 'first 
stock-father ' of the race, depicts a simple red kilt and mantle, 
both of that single colour, with short hose of a diced pattern 
of red aud yellow. 

Several other curious and still earlier representations of 
Highland chieftains occur in the coloured illustrations to the 
Black Book of Taymouth, preserved in the Marquis of Breadal- 
bane's charter room. The compilation of this manuscript 
was begun before 1598 by Master William Bowie, family notary 
to Sir Duncan Campbell, 7th Laird of Glenorchy, and tutor to 
his children, and its pages are enriched with many full-length 
figures of the various magnates of the house. All of these, with 
the exception of ' Dominus Duncanus Campbel de Lochow,' 
who wears a red cloak, with a green collar, over a shirt of 
chain-mail, appear in the suits of plate armour ; but several of 

Scottish Arms and Tartans, 289 

them show parti-coloured drapery, in the form of scarfs worn 
over the left shoulder. The defenders of the antiquity of clan 
setts would surely have expected to find in these examples o^ 
the Campbell tartan. They not only bear no resemblance to 
the Campbell pattern, but also differ among themselves, one 
from the other. * Archibaldus Campbell Comes de Argylle, 
Primus,' wears a white scarf striped with yellow and blue; 
the 1st Laird has one of green, striped with red, the 2nd and 
4th Lairds appear in scarfs of red striped with gold, and the 
3rd in a yellow scarf, striped ^vith gold. 

There is another, more important, picture, introducing tartans 
upon which I could have desired Mr. Stewart to have recorded 
his opinion. I refer to the curious and carefully executed battle- 
piece, * An Incident in the Scotch Rebellion of 1745,' painted, 
contemporaneously, by David Morier, for the Duke of Cumber- 
land, and recently discovered inalumber-roomin Windsor Castle. 
In this work, the varied tartans worn by the Highlanders are 
portrayed with a minuteness of detail, which suggests that the 
actual fabrics must have been before the artist as he painted. 
Lord Archibald Campbell gives a coloured reproduction 
of the painting in his Children of the Mist (Edinburgh, 1890), 
where also the curious Highland figures on the title-border of 
Blaeu's map of Scotland, 1645, one of them wearing the belted 
plaid in combination with tartan trews, are copied as a head- 
piece. In one of the tartans appearing in Morier's picture, 
Lord Archibald believes (Letter in Glasgow Herald, 12th June, 
1890), that he recognises the Macdonald sett 

There are several of Mr. Stewart's references to specific 
works of art that call for remark and dissent. The cabinet- 
sized portrait that has been regarded by some as an authentic 
likeness of the Countess of Lennox, and by others as portray- 
ing her daughter-in-law. Queen Mary, from which the tartan 
of plate xxxix. has been copied, has no claim to be regarded 
as a work of the sixteenth century. It has none of the char- 
acteristics of the period assumed, or of a copy from a work of 
that period ; and the features that it presents by no means 
answer to those in the various authentic portraits of Queen 

XXIII. 19 

29(> St'oifiith Anna ami Tartann, 

Mary, or to those of the Couutess of Lennox at Dalmahoy, and 
iu Hampton Court. 

Again, in his references'* to the costume appearing in the 
cabinet-sized, full-length, by Waitt, at Newhall House, Mid- 
lothian, dated 1715, and absurdly marked as representing 
* the old Pretender/ Mr. Stewart has fallen into error. He 
calls it * a rather unusual riding costume of considerable in- 
terest.' Certainly such a habit would form ' a rather unusual 
riding costume.' There is not the slightest doubt that the 
dress is simply the new uniform adopted by the Royal Com- 
pany of Archers of Scotland about 1713, which consisted of. a 
coat of Stewart tartan, with lining of 'fine white shallon, 
(afterwards changed to anything white, except silk), and white 
stockings, with a white . . . bow-case, with a green 
worsted bob, and a blue bonnet with a St. Andrew, and a 
coque of white and green ribbons . . . the officers 
are allowed to trim and adorn them ... as they think 
proper, according to their rank' Judging from my notes, 
made before the picture some years ago, I should think that 
the costume is in quite substantial agreement with that appearing 
in the full-length portrait, believed to represent David, Earl of 
Wemyss, Captain-General of the Archers from 1715 to 1720, 
reproduced in Mr. Balfour Paul's history of the company. In 
the Newhall picture, the figure holds in his hand a* bow, and 
behind him appears the old Parliament House, Edinburgh, and 
the statue of Charles II. The locality was one intimately 
associated with the archers, for in 1713 the company obtained 
a grant from the city of a piece of ground to the west of the 
Parliament House, on which to erect their butts. 

As an archer is represented in this work, and as the only 
portraits hitherto associated with the name of Waitt are those 
portraying members of the various branches of the house of 
Grant, I have a strong suspicion that the picture now under 
consideration represents Archibald Grant, younger, of CuUen, 
(son of Lord Cullen the judge), who passed as an advocate on 
13th November, 1714, and appears to have died about 1778. 

* In Scottish Antiquary y January, 1893, p. 100. 

Scottish Arms and Tartans. 291 

He was admitted a member of the RoyAl Company of Archers 
on 4th October, 1714. The portrait is a very interesting 
example of Scottish costume, and .a careful and certified dopy 
of it would form a desirable addition to the works of art and 
objects of antiquarian interest which already adorn the Archer's 
Hall in Edinburgh. 

A consideration of the subject of the adoption of distinctive 
clan tartans in Scotland would be greatly simplified if we 
were able to accept, as trustworthy, a work which I have 
repeatedly mentioned in the present article, the Vestiarium 

This treatise upon Scottish tartans was published in 1842, 
' from the manuscript formerly in the library of the Scots 
College at Douay, with an Introduction and Notes by John 
Sobieski Stuart,' one of the two brothers, so well known in 
their day in Edinburgh society, who claimed, in a more or less 
definite way, to be the legitiuiate grandsons of Prince Charles 
Edward Stuart. In the preface it is stated that the MS., at 
the time of publication, was in the possession of the editor : 
that it was ' a small black-letter quarto of the sixteenth 
century, containing thirty-four pages of vellum, illuminated 
with small, plain capitals, such as the ordinary initials of 
inferior missals : ' that it had belonged to John Leslie, Bishop 
of Ross, the devoted adherent of Queen Mary, and bore a 
dated note in his hand- writing with his signature ; that it had 
passed, with other of his papers, into the library of the Scots 
College at Douay ; and had been given to Prince Charles 
Edward Stuart, along with *many papers which had belonged 
to Queen Mary, her adherents, and King James the Seventh,' 
when he visited the seminary between the years 1749 and 

The editor further states that this MS. had been collated 
* with the transcript of another in the library of the Monastery of 
St. Augustine, in Cadiz,' but he has left doubtful the owner- 
ship of this second MS. at the period of his writing, for, on the 
following page of his preface (p. iv.) he states that it belong^tZ 
[in the past tense] to the library of the Convent of St. Augus- 
tine, while, at the opening of his succeeding paragraph, the 

2i)2 ScottUh Armtt and Tartans. 

word 'al8o* Reems to indicate that this MS. was then in his 
own handa* This second MS. is described as ' a small paper 
folio, bound in panel, written in the ordinary running hand 
ot thi' time of James the Sixth,' and bearing an inscription 
indicating that it had belonged to ^ ane honerabil man, Maister 
James Dunbarr w* in y* burg of luvernesse, in y* yeir of God 
ane thousand sax hunder and aucht yeirs/ and on the cover 
the name of a subsi'quent owner, * Johan O'Neil, cleric' 

A third copy ' also ' in the editor's possession, is stated to 
have been obUiined from * an old Ross-shire Highlander, named 
.Tohn Ross, one of the last of the sword-players, who may yet 
be remembered by those who recollect the porters of EdKiburgh 
twenty years ago. It is an inferior modem copy, bearing the 
stigmata of various barbarous hands,' among the rest several 
signatures of a certain John and Mayre Inglis, dated 1721. 
The editor conjectures that this MS. may have been copied 
from an original differing in some degree from the two above 
mentioned ; but ' the principal deviation is the transposition of 
some of the low country names bordering upon the Highlands, 
and which, in the two oldest MSS., are given in the low coun- 
try division, but, in that of 1721, are included among the 
Highland clans.' 

In addition to these three MSS. the editor informs us that, 
* according to a notice communicated by Lord Lovat, it appears 
that another was long in the possession of the Frasers of Inch- 
berry. Since the removal of that family, it is supposed to have 
been taken to America, and is described as a small quarto MS., 
in black letter, containing not only a description, but illumi- 
nations, of all the clan tartans. If this tract was not the 
Vestiarium Scoticum^ it must have been one containing a nokore 
elaborate illustration of tartans than the work of Sir Richard 
Urquhart, and of which I have discovered no other copy.' 

The Vestiarium Scoticum, the composition of which is dated 

* In his Reply, however, (Edin., 1848) he states that it had been dis- 
covered in the Monastery of St. Augustine by an Irish priest, in 1823, 
und was lost when the Convent was suppressed, along with the other 

religious houses of the Peninsula. 

Scottish Arms and Tartans. 293 

by the editor as ^ not older than the latter part of the fifteenth 
century,' and * not later than the reign of James the Third/ 
opens with an introduction in which the writer laments that 
' in this pres^ tymes bene sene dyuers oncothe chavnges in the 
auld Scottysche fassoune, and men do now effect foreigue and 
stravnge fantasyes, radder nor sic holsom vse and ordyr as 
Cometh of ye ain native gyise and hes ben vsit be our forbeires 
jn the aulde tyme,' and indicates that the work has been com- 
piled as *^ane mirroure to schewe ye trewe Tertaynis of the 
principal scottysche families, and especiale of the hielande 
clannes, alswa the enyes or cognyzaoncis of ye samen.' There 
follows a disquisition ' of the settiss or stryppis and coultouris 
of terteinis ; ' and then comes a description of the tartans of 
the various chief Highland clans, so minute that coloured 
drawings or woven fabrics could be accurately executed from 
them. In like manner, the tartans of the smaller Highland 
families are detailed, and those of the Low country or Border 
clans. These are succeeded by brief notes on the plaids worn 
by women, and on hose and trews; and a poem concludes the 
work, its opening lines entreating * Damis and lerdyngis yt 
heron wyt ' to — 

' Pray for Schyr Richard Urquharde, knight, 
That made y^ boke,' 

a personage of whom nothing further has been discovered. 

A marvellous and interesting manuscript, surely, if an 
authentic one I But authentic, the best judges have hitherto 
been by no means inclined to regard it. 

In 1829, only one of the three MSS., that assigned to the 
year 1721, was in the possession of John Sobieski Stuart It 
was lent to Sir Thomas Dick Lauder, who was much interested, 
copied a portion of it (in a version, containing some humorou:) 
and absinrd travesties, now in the possession of his daughter), 
and brought the matter under the attention of Sir Walter 
Scott, sending him his own transcript. Scott replied, expres- 
sing the gravest doubts as to the authenticity of the work, 
though intimating that, if its genuineness were established^ 
there would be no difficulty in inducing the Bapnatyne Club 
to aid in its publication ; but, very properly, stating that he 

294 JScottish Anna and Tartans. 

considered it indiRpensahle that the original MS. should be 
submitted to the scrutiny of such a skilled expert as Mr. 
Thomson of the Register House. On being communicated 
with, John Sobieski Stuart expressed perfect willingness to 
have the original MS. properly examined ; but his father, J. 
T. Stuart Hay, in whose possession it then was, definitely re- 
fused his consent. There is a curious sentence in his letter to 
his son conveying his refusal. * You ought,' he writes, ' to 
have remembered the private memorandums written on the 
blank leaves, and that it was impossible, coupled with other 
circumstances, to subject them to common curiosity, which 
neither I nor vou can think of for a moment to reclaim the 
whole history and use of tartans trom oblivion.' In another 
letter of the same period, giving a description of the original 
MS., ilr. Stuart Hay states that * I have never heard of any 
other MS. copy of the work than that in our possession, but 
there was a printed copy made by order of the late Prince, 
with an introduction, describing the book, and containing fac- 
similes of the capitals, and the Bishop of Ross's date. By the 
former it appears that the original had been in the Library of 
the Scots College of Douay, and from it was removed, with 
many other MSS. of the body, and presented to His Royal 
Highness some time afterwards. The printed copy was iu 
possession of His Royal Highness the Cardinal of York, a short 
time before his death, and is supposed to have fallen into the 
hands of the English Government, and along with what they 
obtained of the Stuart Papers.' 

The Vestiarium Scoticum, after its publication in 1842, was 
subjected to various unfavourable and sceptical criticisma The 
most important of these appeared in The Quarterly Review^ from 
the pen, as is understood, of Professor George Skene of Glasgow, 
arid chiefly founded upon materialsfurnished by Dr. Mackintosh 
Mackay. To its various objections John Sobieski Stuart re- 
sponded, in A Reply to the Quarterly Review upon the Vestiarium 
Scoticum^ (Edinburgh, 1848), a pamphlet written with much 
spirit and vigour, and advancing arguments of considerable 
cogency. It should be noted — what Mr. Stewart has failed to 
record — that in this Reply it is stated that the 1721 version of 

Scottish Arms and Tartans. 295 

the MS., * the only copy in Great Britain/ had been deposited 
at 25 Heriot Row, Edinburgh, ' where it will be exhibited to 
all who may desire its inspection ; * but I have not been able 
to ascertain that this permission was taken advantage of by 
any skilled expert. It is curious that in the Reply no informa- 
tion is afforded of the resting-place of the original MS., which 
six years previously had been in the possession of John 
Sobieski Stuart. 

I cannot, at present, enter on an examination of this curious 
work, the Vestiavium Scoticwn, In order to deal with it ade- 
quately, a separate and lengthend article would be required. 
And the moment is not yet ripe for such an investigation ; for 
it has been recently announced that one of the MSS. of the 
work, understood to be that of 1721, has been discovered by a 
member of the Lyon Office, already known as a student of 
Scottish antiquities, and that the results of his examination and 
investigations may be looked for. When these have been 
placed before the public I may return to the subject. 

In the meantime, I may conclude by remarking that, even if 
the authenticity of the Vestiarium were established beyond a 
doubt — and this I do not expect to see — proof of the assertion 
that distinctive clan tartans were worn in the Highlands dur- 
ing the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries would still be 
wanting. The writer of the Vestiarium informs us that in his 
day there had ' bene sene dyuers oncothe chaunges in the auld 
Scotysche fashioune ' of costume, and that ' ye ain native 
guise * was falling into disuse. If his work comes to be re- 
garded as authentic, we must then believe that, with the lapse 
of time, distinctive clan tartans were abandoned ; for the evi- 
dence against their use, from the end of the sixteenth to the 
latter part of the eighteenth century, aftorded by the costumes 
appearing in Scottish portraits painted during that period, may 
be regarded as practically conclusive. 

J. M. Gray. 




Vie Deutichen JHchtuwjen von Salomon iindAforol/] herausgegeben 
von Friedrich Voift. ErMer band^ Salman und Atorolf. 
Hallo. 1880. 

rilllE Spielmann poems, two of which were presented to oar 
X readers in former numbers of this Review,* deal in the 
main with the same theme. They all tell of a Christian king 
who sailed across the sea to fetch or to recover a wife. He has 
to fight for her with heathen foes, and these voyages and battles 
belong to the age of the Crusades. The scene is in the East, in 
a land of which the poet has the vaguest ideas in point of geo- 
graphy, and where marvels of all kinds abound. The romance of 
Salman and Morolf, of which we now propose to give a sketch, 
also presents these features, which we have seen in Orendel and 
in Rother. Salman is Solomon, transformed into a Christian 
emperor who rules at Jerusalem — here a seaport — and who con- 
ducts maritime expeditions against heathen potentates whose 
capitals are also on the sea. Morolf, we may at once say, is his 
brother; a brother of whom the Old Testament contains no men- 
tion, but who was born to him in the growth of early legend. It 
must be our first task to indicate how the legend, here treated by 
a popular poet for production in the market-place, about the end 
of the twelfth century, grew up and arrived in Germany. The 
reader will find that this poem is in some parts very loose in its 
construction, and it appears to us to be inferior both in the depth 
of its sentiment and in the vigour of its movement to the works 
formerly dealt with here. The legend however has a history of 
peculiar interest ; few stories have undergone such curious trans- 
formations in so many lands. In bis admirable edition of the 
poem, Mr. Vogt has examined its growth with much care ; and 
while many of his statements are hypothetical, his collection of 
the facts is an admirable one. 

* Scottiah BecU'w, No. xxxix., * Tlie Legend of Orendel ; Ibid,, No. 
XLiii., * The Romance of King Rother.' 

Salman and Morolf. 297 

The Jewish imagination was very busy with Solomon ; as the 
builder of the temple, most sacred and most wonderful of build- 
ings, he was a figure of the greatest interest. His wisdom was 
famous ; the Kabbis made him a master of hidden knowledge 
who had intercourse with spirits, especially with Asmodeus, the 
chief of the demons, and was able to avail himself of their 
power.* But this intercourse was dangerous ; Solomon was not 
a truly good man like his father David, who gave himself to the 
studv of the law with the zeal of a later scribe. The demon 
therefore, with whom he had too much intercourse, took advan- 
tage of him, cast him down from his throne, and for a time 
reigned in his stead. Solomon was reduced to wandering about 
from one school of the law to another, bearing another name, and 
uttering the sad words (Eccles. i. 12), ^I, Koheleth, was King of 
Israel in Jerusalem,* no one believing him. f Thus the adver- 
sary of Solomon and the fall of Solomon were standing themes 
of legend. Before his fall he had power over all the realms of 
nature ; the animals of the earth and air as well as the spirits, 
came at his summons to do his bidding ; he sent a letter to the 
Queen of Sheba by a bird, scholars are not certain whether the 
hoopoe or the woodcock. In Arab legend his power over the 
creatures is specially connected with his ring, a ring with four 
stones representing the four realms of nature. It is when he 
parts with his ring to Asmodeus that his power departs from him. 
Another feature of the story is that his fall is connected with 
his marriage of heathen princesses and with his permitting them 
to set up at Jerusalem the worship of their own gods. These 
gods were demons, and when they were worshipped in his capital, 
Solomon himself joining in that worship, he could not keep them 
so well in subjection as formerly. Worst of all was his marriage 
with the daughter of the King of Egypt. A heathen princess 
was naturallv allied with the demons and their rulers, and so it 
came to pass that Solomon's wife had an understanding with the 

* In Eisenmenger's 3ntdeckter Jxidenthum there is a great deal of this, 
t The mediae val tale of which Longfellow gives a beautiful version in 
his * King Robert of Sicily,' is no doubt founded on this of the Talmud. 

21)8 Siiltnan and Morolf. 

prince of the demons, wlio was aiming at Solomon's overthrow ; 
his marriage therefore led directly to his downfall. 

In passing through Greek lands the legend received varioos 
modifications. Solomon continues to wear the character of a 
great magician ; the apocryphal works attributed to him in Chris- 
tian times deal chieflv with his rule over the demons, and the 
means he used and recommended to others for keeping such beings 
in subjection and making use of them. The demons themselves 
arc conceived in accordance with Greek rather than Oriental 
ideas ; and in particular, Solomon is believed to have command 
of an army of animals with the body of a horse and the head of 
a man, centaurs, who come to his aid on any emergency. 

The storv is next found in Russian folk-lore and in the 
Spielmann. Mr. Vogt has had access to Russian collections 
which are not, so far as 1 know, accessible to the English 
reader, and finds that the story of Solomon exists among the 
Russian peasantry, in a simpler form than that of the Spielmann, 
but at the same time not the form in which the latter can have 
found it. Both the later forms of the story point to an inter- 
mediate form, probably Byzantine, which is now lost, but admits 
of beini; constructed by comparing together the two later tales. 
In the Byzantine story the old legend of Solomon had received 
important additions. A brother of Solomon had made his 
appearance, and had taken the place of Solomon's adversary, 
Asmodeus. And in place of the league of Solomon's wife with 
his adversary, there was an abduction of the queen by the brother. 
Where the brother came from it is hard to say. In the first 
book of Kings Solomon's brother, Adonijah, claims the throne in 
opposition to him ; and after his claim has been disposed of, he 
becomes a suitor for the hand of Abishag, the Shunamite, 
David's last nurse ; a claim which is thought so dangerous 
that he is put to death on account of it. Mr. Vogt thinks it 
possible that this may be the basis on which the later legend 
provides Solomon with a brother who is also his adversary and 
carries off his wife. The brother-adversary inherits the qualities 
of the demon-adversary whom he displaces from the legend ; he 
is a centaur, and a magician. The other features of the 
supposed Byzantine tale are that Solomon proceeds at the head 

.. .1 

Sahiian and Morolf. 299 

of an army of centaurs to recover his wife, but leaves his army in 
a wood, bidding them appear at once on hearing the sound of his 
horn. He then proceeds, disguised as a beggar, to the palace to 
which the queen has been carried, and is at once recognised by 
her and placed in confinement. The centaur, on his return 
home, allows Solomon to choose the manner of his death, and he 
chooses to be hung on a gallows near the wood. A large crowd 
goes with him ; he asks to be allowed to sound his horn before 
he dies, and this is granted to him, though much against the will 
of the queen. As soon as his horn is heard the army appears 
out of the wood, the crowd who came to see the proceedings is 
massacred, the abductor and the abducted hanged on the gallows 
prepared for Solomon. 

In an old Russ story the abductor is Kitovras, a word the 
etymologist will identify without difficulty with Centaurus ; and 
he is moreover a brother of Solomon, and reigns over men by day, 
but at night over beasts, being himself turned into a beast. He 
has carried off Solomon's wife by means of magic. Solomon 
appears as a beggar, seeking to get back his wife, and is received 
by a young lady, through whom he sends a signal to the Queen. 
The Queen, however, knows at once that the stranger is no 
beggar, but ' my old husband, Solomon.' She asks and he 
answers, what might be expected, and Kitovras when he 
comes in, orders Solomon to be hung. There is to be a great 
feast under the gallows, and after arriving there Solomon asks 
permission to blow his horn. He is allowed to do so ; at the 
first blast his men arm, at the second, when his feet are on the 
ladder, they approach and hide themselves in an ambush. At 
the third blast I hey burst out and cut down the crowd of enemies. 
Kitovras, the wife of Solomon, and the magician by whom the 
abduction was carried out, are hanged, with silk ropes, for 
Solomon had asked for this indulgence, when he himself was 
about to be the victim. 

In a Russ folk-song, the story appears with certain variations 
wliicli show later development. Solomon's Queen, here named 
Salmanija, is carried off by the servant of a handsome Empsror, 
called Vasilj Okuljevie, who had heard of her beauty. She is 
enticed on board a ship which has arrived at Jerusalem loaded 

30<) Salman and Jtorolf. 

with all manner of curious and precious wares, and drugged with 
opium till the ship has sailed. Solomon goes to bring her back 
with a great army of winged man-horses, who are told, rather 
contrary to their natural habits, one would suppose, the first time 
they hear his horn to saddle their horses, the second time to 
mount, and the third time to hasten to his aid, These centaurs 
evidently are developing into ordinary cavalry. In the account 
of Soloinon*s arrest and imprisonment by the Queen different 
versions of the song vary. When he blows his horn the first 
time with his foot on the ladder, all the birds of the air come 
flying, and he explains that they all wish to be present at his 
execution. The horn also conveys to his men the tidings — 
' Solomon is about to be put to death,' — and the earth shakes at 
the multitude of men simultaneously saddling their horses. 
'What is the meaning of thatt' Solomon is asked. ^ Forty 
thousand swans,' he answers, ^ are splashing the sea against the 
shore, telling each other that I am to be put to death.' On the 
second step of the ladder he blows another blast. All the trees of 
the wood shiver and the sea roars. The blast contains the words — 
' O Emperor Vasilj Okuljevie, hasten the execution, for Solomon 
is wise and cunning.' His men mount, the earth shakes, and he 
explains this by saying that forty thousand horses have come 
together at tJerusalem to tell each other of his fate. The end of 
the story is as in the earlier forms of it. 

In the Spielmann story the reader will see that much is the 
same as in these Buss stories of Solomon, but he will also notice 
many differences and additions. Solomon's brother has a new 
name, Morolf ; another form of it is Markolf ; and no complete 
account of the name can be given. The name occurs in Jewish 
literature as Marcolis, in Latin it is Marcolf us ; Morcholon is 
also found; and the god Mercurius, to the Jews a demon, is 
probably not far off. Solomon's brother was his adversary, and 
any demon of influential position would do for the post There 
is an Anglo-Saxon romance called Solomon and Saturn, in which 
Saturn is an oriental prince of demonic character, and Solomon 
carries on conversation with him as with Asmodeus, and addresses 
him as * brother' I A * Marcolf 's land ' is spoken of ^ to the east of 
the Kingdom of Saul ' ; so that Marcolf has every qualiflcatkm 

Salman and Morolf. 301 

for the post of Solomon's brother, who is also his adversary. In 
the poem now before us of ' Solomon und Morolf/ Morolf has 
ceased to be an adversary, and has become the devoted servant 
and helper of Solomon, but in the other Spielmann poem of 
Solomon und Markolf,* Markolf is the adversary, the disputative 
antagonist and rude jester, with whom Solomon for all his wisdom 
carries on an unequal contest. In Germany therefore the 
legendary matter has divided into two different stories. ' Solomon 
und Markolf is a dialogue poem. Markolf, a personage repre- 
senting all the wit and all the impudence of the Spielmann tribe, 
contends with Solomon in words, and plays him tricks. * Salman 
und Morolf is an epic. Morolf has laid aside the character of 
antagonist, and is all a brother should be. At the same time, 
Morolf allows himself great liberty of speech with Salman ; and 
his proceedings among the heathens, which occupy a great part 
of the poem, are to say the least, much below the dignity of the 
brother of an Emperor, and much more in the character of one 
who has spent his life in the practice of jugglery and in the 
invention of tricks and deceptions. He is a maker of magic, he 
foresees the future with accuracy, he is master of all the 
mechanical wonders known or dreamed of in the middle ages ; 
in the second part of the poem he is claimed by a mermaid as her 
near relative. He inherits the qualities of the many characters 
who have stood in close connection with Solomon. 

The reader will notice in the poem many inconsistencies, and 
many suggestions and beginnings of themes which are not worked 
out. The means employed for the first abduction of Salme, to 
begin at the beginning, are far in excess of what is required. 
First there is a warlike expedition, then Salme becomes enamoured 
of the captive committed to her guardianship. But this does not 
end' in an elopement as we should expect, though the coast is 
clear for it; the removal of Salme is deferred for six months, and 
is carried out by a Spielmann sent for that purpose by the 
heathen king. Here different traditions have evidently been at 
work. First there was the theme of a woman carried off by force ; 

* Mr. Vogt*s second volume, which is to deal with this other Solomon 
poem, has not yet appeared. 

.■M)2 Salman and Morolj. 

Salman himself had obtained his bride in this way. Then there 
is the tradition, common in the middle ages — (it is found, Mr. 
Vo^t shews, in our own Walter Mapes, and in various quarters 
in Germany) of a wife to whom a distinguished captive is en- 
trusted for safe custody, and who falls in love with him and runs 
off with him. And thirdly, there is the tradition found in 
Kf>ther, of the abduction of a queen by the stratagem of a Spiel- 
mann, while the king himself does not appear. The fact that 
Morolf afterwards spends seven years going from one court to 
another in search of the lost queen, shews that the last of these 
thrt'o traditions at one time had a place in the opening of the 
storv : why should he have done this if he was aware, as he is in 
this poom, from the first, that her abduction was due to the cap- 
tive prince, whose name a:.d kingdom are well known to every 
one I Other inconsistencies are to be found in Morolf's recogni- 
tion of the queen, which does not take place fully till he plays chess 
with her. If that was the case, he cannot have had an intimate 
acquaintance with her before, but must have bean an envoy sent 
out to recoijni/.e her bv the mark on her hand. The sections, too. 
whtMC the sister of the heathen king enters into the action, all 
point to another issue of it than that here reached. In an ap- 
pendix to the other Solomon-poem, Solomon and Morolf, the story 
is told much more simply ; there the queen is recognized when 
she is buyintjr gloves from the Spielmann, by the mark on her 
hand. Mr. Vogt judges that that version of the story represents 
in many points, but not in all, the tradition out of which * Salman 
und ^lorolf ' was built up. 

From tlie history of old German rhyme and metre, this poem 
is judrred to be a little later than Orendel and Rother, and is 
placed in the last decade of the twelfth century. It is written in 
a stanza of five lines, of which the first and second rhvme" to- 
gather, and the third and fifth, while the fourth is, to use the 
German phrase, an ' orphan.' At the beginning of my sketch of 
the poem, I liave given a rough representation of the form. It 
was known before that the poem was in some such stanza. Mn 
Vogt has the merit of having given it in this edition its proper 
form by printing it in stanzas. His critical labours in restoring 
the text have been very thorough, as may be seen at the foot of 

Salman and Morolf, 303- 

every page, and ia the notes printed after the text in the end of 
the volume. He might have done more than he has to enable 
the reader who is not a specialist in old High German*, to under-^ 
stand difficult passages and obscure allusions. 

As this poem contains a great mixture of legends drawn from 
various quarters, so it presents a very curious combination of 
ideas and sentiments. It is not a work illustrative of chivalry. 
The battles in it are fought on foot, the heroes kill each other 
with swords, not with lances. Nor are the feelings towards 
women those of ^Ivanhoe.' With a great show of outward polite- 
ness and etiquette, the men combine a boorish rudeness of speech, 
even towards women, and a coarse tone of sentiment. The forms 
of the intercourse of courts are beginning to penetrate to the 
lower orders, but the spirit of courtesy is absent. Nor is the 
sentiment of this poem ecclesiastical. It differs markedly in this 
particular from Orendel and Rother. In these poems the heroes 
appeal at every important juncture to heaven for aid, and 
miracles are frequently wrought for them, or messengers are sent 
from above to assist them. The heroes of both these poems,, 
moreover, retire from the world or embrace the religious life, 
when their labours are ended. Here there is none of this. We 
have not even the baptism of vanquished heathens; Fore's sister is 
baptized, but that is necessary for the plot, as she could not other- 
wise become queen. The frequent processions to and from 
church, we may also notice, are not introduced from pious, but 
rather from scenic motives ; they form a "fine opportunity for 
showing off a beautiful woman or for securing the presence of a 
crowd at an important interview. The sentiment which domi- 
nates this poem is a thoroughly secular one. The poem in fact 
is a glorification of the Spielmann. That functionary is exhibited 
on a high stage, promoted to royal dignity and influence, but 
without losing any of his readiness of tongue or sleight of hand. 
This is par excellence the Spielmann poem ; not only that the 
subordinate members of the profession who appear are always 
finely attired and richly rewarded, and succeed in all they take 
in hand, but that the central figure, the hero of the piece, is a 
player, an entertainer of the public, made royal himself and the 

3<)4 Sitlmttn and Morolj\ 

ri^ht hand of a king, and exhibiting his arts on a scale worthy 
of his ])rofession. 

* At Jerusalem a child was bom, 
Which since the royal crown bath worn, 
Over nil Christian folk ; 
That was the (p^at King Salman, 
Who many a wise word spoke. 

He took a wife from India, 

A heathen's daughter fair was she. 

For her was many a knight forlorn : 

It was an evil hour, 

That she to the world was ever born. ' 

Iler father 8 name was Cyprian, and Salman took her from 
him witliout his leave ; he carried her across the wild sea, and 
kept her perforce in his good castle at Jerusalem. 

' What I tell you that is true ; he baptized her and taught her the 
Psalter a whole 3'ear, he taught her to play chess : dear to him was the 
4ueen, for all the harm she did him. Her throat was white as snow ; 
never was there a fairer woman, her mouth burned like a ruby ; her eyes 
sparkled as became her noble birth. Like yellow silk was her hair ; 
beautiful was she and made for love ; well-formed was her body^ she was 
called Salme.* 

Then (romes a description of her dress which we will not inflict 
on the reader, further than tliat her under garments were of silk, 
and that her splendid robe and her crown shone with jewels. 
The occasions on which this lady is seen and described are 
generally connected with her going to church ; the following is 
the most elaborate of them all : — 

* It fell on a day of Pentecost that the queen proceeded to the church* 
I^eside her walked two rich princes, who escorted the illustrious queen. 
Before the noble lady many a spielmann walked that day. On her right 
hand went many a proud knight in knightly attire, as befitted the service 
of the queen. On her left hand went many a fair maid, and after her 
many an attendant in knightly dress. Four square they went, right fair 
to see. W^hen she entered the cathedral high mass began ; they gave her 
a psalter in her hand, all written with letters of gold. When the Grospel 
was read hear what a gift the lady gave ; a ring of red gold with preciouB 
stones, no better could there be.' 

The sight of her turns the heads of all the knights, they for- j 

got their food and drink for admiration of her beauty. Salman 

Salman and Morolf. 305 

enjoyed the greatest happiness with her till the fourth year of 
their marriage, when a sad change took place. We enter here 
on the story of the 

First Abduction of Salme. 

On the other side of the sea there ruled a proud heathen, his 
father's name was Memerolt, his own was Fore. Six and thirty 
dukes and fifty earls served at his court, and sixteen heathen 
kings were subject to him. It was on a Sunday (for the heathens 
in this poem have religious arrangements just like those of the 
Christians) that he consulted his knights as to a lady suited in 
all respects to be his wife and to rule with him over the rich 
land of Wendelsee. None of them is able to advise him on this 
point, till an old grey-haired knight mentions the Christian queen, 
wife of Salman ^at Jerusalem ; and on hearing her name Fore at 
once resolves to take her from Salman by force, and asks his 
knights for assistance in the expedition. Salme's father Cyprian, 
who is ill-pleased to think that his daughter is married to a 
Christian, promises to send four thousand knights. The King 
of Tuscany, who has similar religious principles, and King 
Princian, of whom more is to be heard, also gave large reinforce- 
ments. A herald is sent to Jerusalem to demand Salme for 
Fore, and to declare war in case of a refusal. In spite of these, 
however, the refusal is promptly given, and Fore sets sail imme- 
diately with a fleet of forty ships, and reaches Jerusalem on the 
tenth day. The ships at once enter the harbour of that seaport, 
and after a due amount of boastinoj and defiance on each side 
the knights put on their steel accoutrements and Fore encamps 
with his army on the plain before the fortress. Before attacking. 
Fore sends his standard-bearer Elian to Salman's court to ask 
him to save bloodshed by giving* up his wife peaceably. Elian 
is received by Salman, his wife Salme, and Morolf, his dear 
brother, sitting together in the palace. The interview is very 
ceremonious, but Salman of course refuses utterly to do what is 
asked of him. Before the messenger departs Morolf asks him 
what force Fore has brought with him, and on hearing the num- 
ber bids him say that Salman's side will be ready to fight in 
fourteen days. Messengers are sent throughout the land to 

XXIII. 20 

!M)(i S<ilman and Morolf\ 

summon aesistance for the CliriHtian King. The King of Mar- 
raeh (Morocco) comes riding with an army, so does the King of 
Sar|)o (i^^areptn), and the citizens of Nopels (Naples or NabloosT) 
and of Marseilles. Altogether Sahnan has thirty-five thonsand 
warriors; and Morolf declares that though they are ootnambered 
by five thousand, they have the advantage of being Chriatians, 
and that ^the rich Christ from heaven will not desert them/ 
The battle which follows lasts five days, it is a hand-to-hand en- 
counter, apparently on foot, as no horses are mentioned, and it is 
said that those who escaped from the fight barely escaped being 
drowned in the sea. The result was that five and thirty thou- 
sand of the *' evil heathens were killed, and that King Fore him- 
self was taken prisoner.' 

There is a consultation as to how the prisoner is to be treated. 
Morolf strongly urges that he should be put to death at once, as 
he had aimed at carrying off the Queen ; but Salman will not 
agree to this, and declares that Fore is to be kept a close prisoner, 
and that Salnie is to be his goaler. This is one of the most un- 
natural parts of the story, and can only be accounted for by the 
necessities of the poet patching together various materials. Salme 
has to be carried oiF, and the armed expedition having failed, the 
common legend of a captive knight, with whom the lady of the 
cistle falls in love, is next resorted to. As we shall see, this 
contrivance also fails of its purpose, and the writer has to take 
up anotlier. Morolf uses the plainest language ; ' he who adds 
straw to fire,' he says, ' will surely make a blaze ; so will it 
happen if you leave King Fore with your wife;' and to Salman's 
assurance that he has no such fears, ' the cunning man ' answers 
that his wife has bewitched him. All is in vain, Fore is entrusted 
to Salme to guard, and at once gains her affections. To the 
plain and natural statement of this event, another is added which 
explains it by magic. A nephew of Fore, a heathen and a great 
magician, lends him a ring in which a stone is set with magical 
art, and this he gives to Salme, asking her to wear it. She at 
once became enamoured of the ring, such was its power, but 
before putting it on she carried it to Morolf and begged him to 
examine it and see if there was anv mischief about it. Morolf 
held it up to the sun, but the gold was so red that he could not 

Salman and Morolf. 307 

detect the charm lodged in the stone. Salme therefore put it on, 
And at once experienced its operation, choosing from thenceforth 
to be always in Fore's company. He pleads with her to let him 
escape ; but she fears the wisdom of Salman, and still more that 
of Morolf, his servant. To Fore's assertion that he has already 
beaten them in cunning, she rejoins that that is vain talk : — 

* There never was any kind of man who equalled the tenth part of 
Morolf in wiles. He will see in my colour at once that I have changed my 
mind, and both our lives will be in danger. He spoke : ^' There serve me 
at my court six and thirty dukes and fifty earls, 'tis true, and sixteen 
heathen kings ; they shall be subject to you. Your father Cyprian serves 
me ; him I will free for ever from such service." "Then I will follow 
you," spoke the noble queen. At that word the king was glad ; then spake 
the evil heathen, ** Lady, I will give you more, you shall have power over the 
rich land at Wendelsee. Half a year from to-day, I send you lady, that is 
true, a heathen Spielmann ; he carries two turtledoves, and you shall re- 
ceive him well. He carries a German harp in his hand — you will know it 
— it shines with precious stones ; and he will have a magic root on him, so 
that no one will observe him. That root you shall place secretly in your 
mouth, then you will fall sick and lie on the grass as if you were dead, but 
your bright colour will be unchanged." Then spake the noble queen, " I 
grieve, alas, that so rich a prince must go away from here on foot.'' Then 
spake the heathen man : '* Glad am I to go on foot, for here I lie in danger 
of my life ; now let me go, noble queen, I am fond of walking." Then 
loosed she the heathen's bonds : " Now clear the country soon, my lord, 
and send a messenger at the set time, for most unwillingly am I King 
Salman's wife." When the heathen escaped, and it was told at court, then 
spoke the cunning man : ^^ The queen has been most unfaithful, she has 
let him go." Then spake King Salman : " Morolf, what did she do to 
you ? You are most prejudiced against her ; some girl let him out, and 
Salme was not to blame at all." Morolf, however, exhorts the king to look 
well after her, and predicts that he will not keep her longer than half a 
year. ' 

His word proves true, for half a year later a Spielmann comes, 
who is described in the same words as King Fore had used. He 
meets Salme as she is going to church, and gives her the magic 
root ; her devotions are not improved thereby, and as soon as the 
benediction is said she places it in her mouth, and sinks on the 
grass for dead, but without changing colour. Morolf at once de- 
clares that her death is the result of magic, and asks to be allowed 
to see her ; he has medical skill, he says, and probably could re- 
store her to life. The King has been tearing his hair, which 

308 Silman and Morolf, 

M()n)If considers to be a premature proceeding, and wishes to 
keep Morolf from seeing the (^ueen, but he is not to be deterred ; 
' if she gets off from here, he says, I shall have to go after her to 
other lands/ He made his way. therefore, to the Queen, and 
]K)ured hot gold through her hand, but the charm was so strong 
that she felt nothing of it. This leads to a serious difiFerence be- 
tween the king and Morolf; the latter giving reasons for not be- 
lieving in the queen's death, Salman ordering him to leave the 
court, and receiving for answer a jest of extreme rudeness. The 
King causes the Queen's body to be placed in a cofEn of red 
gold, ' just as if she were an angel * ; but Morolf considers that a 
much less ex|)ensive plan would have served as well or better, 
and that the gold be not lost he goes privately and lays on the 
<offin a huge stone. This, however, did not prevent the 
Spielinann from accomplishhig his purpose ; how he did it we are 
not tohl ; no more is said of the stone, but on the third day he 
carried off the noble lady across the wild sea ; ' before Morolf 
brought her home again, he had, God knows, plenty of pain and 
trouble.' On the fifth day Salman found out what had happened ; 
he feels it impossible to tell Morolf, and sends a girl to the vault 
with incense, and so gets the news brought. Morolf, on being 
told, answers with bitter gibes. * She has preferred a heathen to 
her Christian lord.' He savs : — 

^ *' Were I as wise as thou, Salman, and thereto as handsome as Absolom, 
and could I sing as well as Horace^ yet if I could not keep my wife in 
order, it would be little credit to me." Then spake King Salman, '^Now 
leave we off such words ; seek out for me the noble queen, and I will share 
with you the good land of Jerusalem. Morolf, dear brother mine, thou 
must be my envoy for the noble queen who has run away from us ; the 
rich Clirist reward you for it." Then spake Morolf, the cunning man, 
** Rich King Solomon, since thou callest me brother, what thou biddest 
shall be done." ' 

Mo ROLF'S First Search for Salme. 

We now enter on the narrative of MorolPs search for the 
Queen, in which he has abundant opportunity to show his mastery 
of cunning expedients, and appears on many occasions far from 
scrupulous. The adventure little deserved success which was 
inaugurated by the following act of treachery : — 

Salman and Morolf, 309 

* He went to Jerusalem into the town, and asked an old Jew for advice ; 
white was he as snow with age, his grey beard fell below his girdle. His 
name was Berman. Then spake the noble knight, "Advise me, Berman ; 
the King would send me for his beauteous wife." In a little he took him 
by the hand and led him into a chamber to advise him there more 
privately. Morolf drew out a long knife and stabbed the Jew to the heart.' 

He then took off his skin from the girdle upwards, dressed it 

and put on this strange disguise, and with it all the manners and 

gestures of the dead man, as if they were native to him. At 

once he entered Salman's presence, and appealed to his bounty 

as a beggar. The King gave him three marks of gold, and also at 

his special request the gold ring from his finger. Highly delighted 

that he had not been recognised, Morolf withdrew, changed his 

guise, and came back to ask the King what he had done with his 

ring. The King also, of course, when he finds how he has been 

outwitted, is rejoiced at Morolf's cleverness, and thinks that 

worthy cannot fail to succeed in any enterprise he takes in hand. 

Morolf then makes his preparations for a long journey ; a staff* 

and wallet are the first things to be thought of; but he also orders 

a collapsible leather boat ; it is well pitched, and has two windows, 

and he carried it like a parcel at his side. Many a time did he 

save his life by it. To the King he commends his daughter 

Male, who is to be his sole heir should he not return, and then he 

sets out across the sea to seek the Queen. Seven years did he 

wander from one castle to another, and at last he came to 

Wendelsee, and thrust his boat through the reeds upon the 

beach. He at once encounters an old heathen who has been porter 

at the castle, and who, under dire threats, tells him all about the 

Queen there, the fairest woman he ever saw : after hearing his 

news, Morolf kills him and throws the body into a ditch. He 

then makes up as a pilgrim with a coarse garment, palm and 

staff, and goes up to the castle, where he finds King Fore and his 

knights practising archery, putting the stone, and carrying on 

other sports, before the gates. He seat*^ himself on a bench 

under a tree, which was reserved for persons belonging to the 

aristocracy. He is ordered to get up, and a chamberlain comes 

and strikes him with a stick, but King Fore says, laughing, 

that the stranger evidently belongs to the nobility, and need 

not be interfered with. 

^HO Salman aud Morolf, 

The King and Queen now set off at the head of a procession to 
attend service in church ; Morolf sees the Queen and admires her 
beauty, but apparently is not certain that she is Salme. Daring 
the siTvice Morolf remains on the seat and curses the heathen 
parson for making the mass so long ; ^ damned Saracen/ he says, 
* what is that you are singingT ' *The devil take you!' Theservice 
being over, he takes up a position where the royal procession will 
pass close to him on its return to the castle, and the Queen, see- 
ing the aged pilgrim, addresses him kindly. At his request for 
alms, she offers to maintain him at her Court as long as they 
both live, but he answers : ' I am a sinful man and cannot stay 
long in one place ; I will rest here a fortnight, I pray you let 
them feed nie so long.' She asks him if he was ever at 
Jerusalem on his travels, and if he ever saw King Salman and 
his brother Morolf. lie replies that it is seven years since he 
was there and that at that time Salman and Morolf were both 
in great distress at the death of the Queen ; they had placed her 
under a stone, but the wicked devil had come and taken her 
with him, a recital at which the Queen is greatly amused. She 
then entrusts him to a chamberlain, who is to see that the wine- 
jug stands near his bed at night. 

Now Morolf wore under his pilgrim's robe a corset of steel, 
and a noble lady at the court happened to see it. She of course 
reported this to the Queen, and the Queen sent her to fetch the 
pilgrim at once to her majesty's apartments, as if she wished to 
ask him for more news of foreign lands. The pilgrim is slow to 
obey this summons, for he grasps what it means, and excuses 
himself on the plea of fatigue till next day. Next morning he 
goes to her. The King has gone out hunting, so that the field is 
clear for an encounter between the false pilgrim and the Queen 
he is seeking to deceive. He makes the first move and challenges 
her to play chess with him, his head against her gold to be the 
stake. She believes she can beat him, and sends for the chess- 
board, a highly jewelled piece of furniture with white and red 
pieces. A new stake is proposed ; the Queen is to give, instead 
of gold, any maiden of her retinue whom he shall choose ; if he 
gets her, she will carry his wallet. He chooses King Fore's 
sister, and she at once begins to take an interest in him and 

Salman and Morolf. 311 

comes beside him to help him in the game. At first he presses 
the Queen hard, but she declares there is nothing in the game ; 
his head is forfeited in any case, and she will have it taken off 
without delay. He betrays anxiety in an unseemly way, and on 
being taken to task, entreats the Queen to change places with 
him. This brings the sun to shine on the back of her hand and 
light fell through hand and glove (which cannot have been of 
kid) on the board, so that he recognised the hand which he had 
pierced with red-hot gold. Then, we are told, he was quite sure 
that she was Salme and no other. A new trick is here put in 
operation. He had brought with him across the sea, a gold ring 
in which a nightingale was enclosed ; this he now puts on ; the 
nightingale begins to sing, and while the Queen is gazing at it he 
abstracts one of her knights and two pawns. At this his heart is 
lifted up, he claims that he has won the game, and saved his head ; 
and he breaks out into song of which he had a great gift, so that 
all who heard him were charmed. The air was one King David 
had taken from the old songs, and she remembers hearing it at 
her father's table and asks him where he learned it. He spoke : 

^ Noble queen, I was a Spielmann and was called Stolzelin ; I wandered 
long on the sea and over mountains and valleys, no land was unknown to 
nie, were it broad or small. I came to Gilest to the capital, where the 
sun is at home ; there lies a land called Endian, and there I learned that 
sweet and touching air. Never again did I hear it, save at the good town 
of Jerusalem, before King Salman it was sung by Morolf, a dake, a hand- 
some and charming man was he." Then spoke the noble lady ; " Now 
hold thy peace, tell me no more ; thou art Morolf, Salman's man, and 
when King Fore comes thy life shall answer for it." ' 

He appeals to his long beard and grey hair to prove he is not 
Morolf, who was a young man seven years ago, but she is not to 
be shaken ; reproaches him with having burned her hand, and 
declares he shall never see Jerusalem again. At hearing this he 
takes off the Jew's skin and casts it from him, disclosing a head of 
curly yellow hair, and after reproaching her with her faithless- 
ness, entreats her to call a truce with him till the next day, a 
request which by earnest beseeching he prevails on her to allow. 
He further gets her to permit him to walk by the seashore, and 
as she goes with him with a sufficient retinue of heathens, he 
ventures to propose that she should go back to Jerusalem with 

312 Salman and ^for^»l/. 

him. That she will never do. Will she let him go to the shore 
alone, to confess his sins to the reeds before he dies, since he can 
huve no other priest ? That also she refuses to allow ; he is 
taken back to the castle, and handed over to twelve knights, who 
aro to guard him, on peril of their own lives. 

Morolf in custwly proves very good company to his guards* 
and tells them stories till they all begin to feel sleepy. He is 
seized with a tit of coughing, and coughs the light out, a pure 
accident, he says; if they will get another light, he will amuse 
them better than before. The light comes, and he offers thera 
all a drink, which he has doctored in the darkness, and each one 
who drinks of it, sinks down on the floor. The last man seeing 
all the guards but himself lying about grows anxious and talks 
instead of drinking, but he is to get the gold cup to keep if he 
empties it, and so he too lies straightway beside the rest. Morolf 
then shews his humour ; he sets to work with a pair of scissors 
and a razor and cuts the hair of his guards short, and supplies 
each of them with a tonsure. He then forces his way out of 
the town, killing the porter and his wife at the gate, and at once 
gets into his boat and is at sea. He lies off the town, however, 
till morning, and the Queen after hearing of the state in which 
the guards have been found, goes up to a tower, looks at the 
water and sees him there, and offers a lar^e reward to anv one 
wlio will bring him back. A galley with five hundred men at 
once pursues him, he thrusts his boat ashore and lands, but not 
without having replenished his flask from his sea-going stores. 
As the shore is devoid of bushes where he lands, he is soon taken, 
bound, and placed in confinement, with twelve keepers, who are 
to carry him back to the Queen. The story repeats itself ; we have 
again the story-telling, the drinking, the hair-cutting, the escape, 
only this time with the variation that the cunning man puts on the 
clothes of a chamberlain \vhom he has killed, and who is of the 
same height and complexion with himself, and apparently for the 
mere fun of the thing, goes to the Queen in his assumed char- 
acter to announce his own capture. See him then installed as a 
hiirh official in the roval household, the benediction of 
twelve heathen chaplains before retiring to rest, and lodged close 
to the royal sleeping apartment. A scene of wild frolic ensues, 

Salman and Morolf, 313 

in which the twelve chaplains, duly drugged and set against a 
wall, the King himself, and various others are treated in a way 
sadly humiliating to them, but hugely diverting to the Christian 
poet and his audience. When they awake and begin to look at 
each other, and to disentangle themselves from the confusion, 
Morolf is singing with a loud voice from his leather vessel on the 
sea before the castle, and asking for messages for Jerusalem, as 
he is just going off. His departure, however, is once more pre- 
vented ; four and twenty galleys quickly surround his boat. Now 
a remarkable property of that craft is seen ; Morolf can at will 
sink to the bottom of the sea, and a leather pipe supplies him 
with air ; there was also a string connected with the upper end 
of the pipe, apparently to draw it down under water when 
threatened by an enemy. For fourteen days these appliances en- 
abled him on this occasion to consort with the fishes. When he 
came to the surface again it appears that he would have liked to 
visit Wendelsee once more, to play a new set of pranks there ; 
but his enemies watched the sea too closely, and after a thirty- 
six days' voyage, even in these days an unusually long one, the 
winds drove him into the harbour at Jerusalem. Thus ended an 
expedition as ably planned and carried out as any in Jules 
Verne, and the geographical details of which it is equally impos- 
sible to verify. 

A scene of recognition then takes place. Morolf s hair has 
turned half gray, and he is so changed that no one at Jerusalem 
knows him ; he introduces himself to Salman therefore as a 
mariner who knows all the countries * from the Elbe to the Ter- 
mont,' and having just come from there has much that is interest- 
ing to communicate ; and Salman, taking him up to a marble 
tower, bids him say his say, remarking that he reminds him of his 
faithful Morolf, whom he sent off seven years ago to seek his 
wife, and who doubtless has perished er? now among the 
heathens. The ancient mariner declares that he knew Morolf 
intimately, and in fact that he buried him ; and Salman requests 
to be told where this took place : — 

' ** So dear to me are hi« bones, I give you my word for it J will not leave 
them in heathendom. I will bury him here in Jerusalem, or lose my life 
in the attempt, else what would my crown and kingdom profit me ? I must 

'Mi Stthnan and Morolf. 

alwayi mouni the loss uf Mdrulf my faithfal Mrvant ; besides he was mjr 
bn>thur, and it waa for the love of me that he went, to brinif bnak mxf ha 
wife. Much {nieTea me the losa of my dear brother." When Moiolf ttw 
thti mourning waa sincere, then spake he, ** I am Morolf^ know dear king 
that I am he, and with all loyalty 1 am faithful to thee. I have found thy 
fair wife ; if thou wilt bring her back, many a knight must lose bia life 
for it.*" 

Thcv then embrace with tears and laugliter, but Morolf cannot 
i^ive up his tricks ; he makes up as he appeared before Sahne, 
knight next the skin but pilgrim to the eye, and goes begging to 
Salman; ;s struck by a chamberlain, returns the blow with 
interest, and is then recognized by the King and made known to 
the court. 

FiKST Expedition for the Recovery of Salme. 

The Queen is to be brought back, and to man the expedition 
for that purjK)se, a great toumay is instituted, and of the knights 
who came to it, ten thousand were chosen and retained. To 
make sure of their faithfulness, Morolf advises that the treasore- 
cluunbers should be opened and a liberal distribution made to the 
warriors ; and it is done accordingly. ^ Thy silver and thy gold 
so red,' Morolf says, ' point many a one the way to grim death. 
After the voyage, of which nothing is told, the expedition halts 
on the shore at AVendelsee to take counsel. Salman is told by 
his brother that there is nothing for it but that he, the King him* 
self, in spite of all dangers, should enter the castle and see his 
wife. He is attired in pilgrim garb, but with steel corslet under 
it, and a broad hat which is also inwrought with steel. A staff 
is given him in which there is a sword, and a bom hidden in his 
coarse cloak. Should he be detected, and Morolf knows that this 
can scarcely fail to happen, he will be allowed to pronounce his 
own sentence, and he is to elect to be hanged on one of the trees 
at the edge of the dark fir wood behind which his knights are 
concealed. On his blowing his horn they will come to his aid. 
Salman now advances to the town, his mind filled with many 
thoughts. He is met by King Fore's sister, that young lady, who 
is constantly appearing as if to play the part of heroine, but none 
of whose actions ever come to anything. She is pleased with his 
reverend air, as Salme was with MorolPs, makes him the Si>n;e 

Salman and MoroLf, 315 

offer as Salme did on that occasion, and is refused on the same 
grounds as Morolf alleged. She reports to the Queen the coming 
of the handsome pilgrim ; he has all the marks of high birth, 
' his ejes shine like those of a wild boar, nor are they gray in 
colour, and his eyebrows are smooth.' He oan be no other, she 
thinks, than the King of Jerusalem. The Queen denounces 
Morolf for sending him, and swears he never shall return. The 
other wishes to go at once and warn him to be off, but Salme 
wishes to see him, and sends four chaplains to bring him to her 
presence. As soon as she beheld him, thus she spoke : — 

' '* Welcome, Salman, linsband mine ; grieved am I that Morolf got away ; 
had they caught him be sure he would have been hanged on a gallows." 
'^ Unfaithful woman, he was taking charge of my honour when he came 
here ; thou must be my wife again, or Morolf will have thy life." *' Thy 
love I seek not ; King Fore is three times dearer to me than thou, I will 
remain with him, and I doubt not ho will help me by judging whether 
thou art to live longer. 

5> » 

He asks her to let him go, and reminds her of all she enjoyed at 
Jerusalem, but his requests are vain. He is taken and placed 
behind the hangings in the room where Fore and Salme are about 
to dine, so that he witnesses her loving reception of the heathen, 
and hears her tell the story of the pilgrim and betray her lawful 
husband to his heathen enemy. 'If it is Salman,' Fore says, * he 
shall be sent across the sea to Jerusalem unharmed, if he gives a 
fair answer.' Salme is strong against this, and to hasten matters 
points to where Salman stands behind the arras. Before the two 
potentates confront each other, however, there is an interlude 
between Salman and Fore's sister, she bringing him a strengthen- 
ing drink, and urging him to give her brother a fair answer, he 
saying that if he had her at Jerusalem he would have her 
baptized, and refusing to promise about the answer, even though 
his life depends on it. Accordingly, when brought before Fore, 
he at once assails that heathen with reproaches for his 
treacherous conduct in carrying off Salme. Fore has a fairly 
good defence in his three years' imprisonment at Jerusalem, and 
in the fact that Salme herself let him out, * through her thou art 
now to lose thy life. I am heartily vexed at it ; alas 1 King 
Sahnan, why camest thou over the sea so broad f Further 

31 () Salman and Moral f, 

ailments are vain. 'If/ Fore says, ^you had me at 
Jerusalem as I have you }iere, would you let me go off whole? ' 
Salman cannot say he would ; he would keep Fore till morning 
broke, and then order his men to set up a gallows to hang him 
on ; and on saying this, he is told he has pronounced his own 
sentence ; he may go free within the castle till morning, but the 
gallows is ordered, and Salme expresses her joy and satisfaction 
in looking forward to a lon^ life by her heathen's side. 

Fetters are brought for the condemned man, but they are 
never put on. Fore's sister intervenes at this point with a 
request that Salman should be given to her to guard for this one 
night. She makes her own life pledge for him, and Fore 
consents with some reluctance to the arrangement, though he 
also says that but for Salme he would very willingly send Salman 
away unhurt. The princess then takes possession of her captive, 
and leads him to a splendid apartment. ' She brought him a 
Spielmann ; a German harp he took in his hand; a mantle of 
many colours she gave him ; *' now serve the rich emperor well, 
for this night and no more. I myself will stay with you ; " and 
she sat down on a couch beside him, she comforted him with all 
her might, and made him forget his cares. Refreshments were 
brought, and Salman grew quite happy beside his fair companion. 
The Spielmann played, and Salman was led to think of *' King 
David, his father, who before old Troy invented the first 
stringed instrument." Salman himself plays, and the young 
person beside him is delighted with his performance. She then 
whispers in his ear that if he chooses she will let him escape; her 
brother she is sure will not do her any harm if she does so. He, 
however, does not wish to escape in this way ; he has angels in 
the wood he says, who will not allow him to perish. 

With the morning light a crowd appears before the palace 
calling for judgment to be done on Salman, since he had come 
into a land where he was not wanted. The trial was soon over, 
and Salman condemned to be hanged before the dark fir-wood. A 
large company goes out to witness the execution. Fore's siati^ 
rides beside Salman, and wipes the sweat from his fac« 
coloured mantle; he is a noble Knight, indeed, she » 
colour is unchanged and still like roses. Morolf has - 

Salman and Morolf, 317 

watch what is going on, and on seeing the procession from a 
distance, rides back to his men to warn them that the time for 
action is at hand, and encourage them to bravery. One detach- 
ment, under the command of a Knight Templar, is to cut off the 
heathen's retreat to the city ; Duke Friderich is to lead a company 
in front of the fir wood. Morolf himself is not in haste to 
attack, but wishes to wait and see what devilry the heathens are 
carrying on. 

The King is talking with Salme under the gallows, and makes 
the request that he may be allowed to blow three times on his 
little horn. The angels will hear it, and then they will take care 
of his soul. No prince is ever put to death without being 
allowed three blasts on his horn. The Queen, however, sees in 
this one of Morolf 's tricks; if the horn is blown they are all lost, 
as Salman no doubt has friends behind the wood. Fore, however, 
says Salman may blow his horn a dozen times if he likes ; if any 
ill follows, he will be the first to lose his life. Salman blows a 
stout blast on his horn, and his friends hear it, he takes his trusty 
staff in his hand, and says when challenged that it must certainly 
be hanged with him. Morolf s bands now come in sight, one black, 
one grey, one white. Fore's sister enquires about them, and is 
told that the white ones are the angels, under Michael, who have 
come to receive his soul, while the black ones are the devils who 
are also to fight for its possession. She, however, is sure he has 
brought them all with him from Jerusalem, and fears he is about 
to desert her; but he bids her take herself away from the 
fighting which will soon begin, and stay in the town till he sends 
for her. He blows a second blast on his horn, and more men 
appear before the wood. Salme is in terror that Morolf is just 
coming to kill her, but Fore reassures her. Salman draws the 
sword which is contained in his staff, and many men rush on him 
and press him hard. He kills four hundred and fifty of them, 
but when Fore, with eleven others, made a rush on him, he is on 
the point of being overwhelmed, and he would have been killed 
had not Morolf opportunely come up and rescued him. Fore 
after a short combat, is made prisoner, and Morolf threatens to 
hang him and Salme together. The latter appeals to Salman^ 
promises never to do it again, and engages to go back with him 

;US &tlman and Morolf. 

to Jerusalem if her life is spared. Morolf drags her away with 
Fore to the gallows, she exclaiming that Fore deserves to be 
hung, not she, and appealing to Salman by the happy life they 
may yet have together at Jerusalem, Fore is indignant at this 
treachery ; Salman begs Morolf to let her ofiF this time, she will 
never do it again; and he, though reluctantly, consents, and 
hangs Fore alone. He goes to the town in search of Fore's 
sister, who weeps bitterly at hearing of her brother's death, and 
to induce Morolf to bur}' him honourably takes him to a tower 
full of gold and precious stones, to which she bids him help him- 
self and his men, so that they may be always faithful to him. 
After a great tournay they all set sail. 

When twelve days out the expedition came to a castle, name 
not given, to which they laid siege, and the news of this reached 
King Isolt of Tuscany, who at once collected a force and marched 
against them. His device was a panther and two dragons, and 
he was leader of 30,000 men ; his father, Berzian, had fallen 
before Jerusalem, and Fore was his uncle, so that he had reasons. 
But he loses his life in single combat with Salman, apparently on 
foot, and Morolf and Duke Friderich having also performed great 
feats, ea^h slaying his hundreds, the heathens are forced to flee, 
and the voyage is continued to Jerusalem. * But how slowly did 
the Queen reconcile herself to being separated from the heathen 
and brought back to Jerusalem I When the noble lady thought 
of the heathen man, she could have no joy, till another heathen 
with great sorcery obtained her. Hence every good man should 
see to it that his wife keeps watch over herself, no guard ever 
was so great as that which a good woman thus maintains. Salman 
was not so wise ; his wife deceived him a second time. But now 
leave we this matter, and speak of the baptism of King Fore's 
sister. To her went the cunning man and spoke, * Noble Queen 
you must get yourself baptized, then your soul will be brought 
back to health.' She puts him off with excuses, and at length 
refuses to be baptized. Morolf then represents to her that if the 
Queen dies, she will have great influence in Jerusalem ; he will 
get her married to Salman. At this she overcomes her scruples^ 
and we have an account of her baptism in the cathedral, where 
she was held up by a lady, who found her no light burden, and 

Salman and Morolf. 319 

King Salman, who wished to witness the proceedings, was un- 
ceremoniously ejected. She received the name of Afifer, and after 
the baptism she was taken to the Holy Sepulchre, where she 
made an ofifeiing ; she learned the Psalter full seven years. 

At this juncture Morolf warns Salman that if the Queen runs 
off again, some one else must be found to go after her and bring 
her back. Of this, however, there is no sign. A son is born to 
the royal couple, and the Queen seems well content to stay where 
she is. This goes on for seven years, and at the expiry of that 
period the reader will find, if he looks up the figures, that Salme 
can no longer have been in the first blush of her youth. Readers 
of the Iliad have noticed the same thing with regard to Helen 
when she was the cause of all the fighting of Troy, and we 
should not be too much surprised to find that at this point Salme's 
history begins again. In 

Salme's Second Abduction 

We have a story which is, in its main features, a repetition of 
that which we have already sketched. The fair queen is carried 
off by King Princian of Acre, who had heard of her beauty and 
at once resolved to possess her. Morolf is unwilling at first to 
undertake a second voyage to discover her, but is persuaded to 
do so on condition that if she is brought back, he shall be per- 
mitted to put her to death. On this second journey the cunning 
man performs a whole set of new tricks of an astonishing nature; 
this fresh matter fills up the greater part of this part of the poem. 
Tying up his feet behind him and taking a drug which gives 
him a death-like appearance, he appears at Acre as a cripple ask- 
ing alms to procure medical assistance. Leaving behind him his 
ass which he has brought with him across the sea (Acre is about 
as many days sail from Jerusalem as Wendelsee), he creeps to 
the gate, and learns from the porter that Salme is shut up in a 
rock-fortress, which communicates with Princian's apartments by 
a subterranean passage, strongly guarded. He sends a message 
to Princian, who comes and acts generously towards him, even 
giving him a magic ring from his finger, which he is to bring 
again. He gets the King and the courtiers to help him up on his 
ass, allays their suspicion that he is an imposter, and rides off, 

320 Salman and Morolf. 

apparently up the country. After nightfall, however, he doubles 
back to the sea-shore, changes his disguise and his complexion, 
and is prepared to appear in the town next day in a new char- 
acter. The Queen's suspicions have been aroused by what she 
heard about him, and by the loss of the ring which had been 
Salman's gift to her. When she hears of the cripple's piercing 
eye, she is sure it is Morolf ; orders the harbours to be watched, 
so that he may not escape, and offers a reward for his capture. 
Princian and his men, scouring the country next day, meet with 
Morolf, now a pilgrim, who answers their enquiries by directing 
them where they will find the cripple's ass. The ass is unknown 
at Acre, but is recognised by Salme as ? beast she has seen work- 
ing about the temple at Jerusalem. The pilgrim then must have 
been Morolf, and is to be sought for. Next day, however, Morolf 
is a Spiel mann, with red silk cloak and harp ; and when the 
chamberlains sent out to find the pilgrim ask him what he knows, 
he says he saw that worthy proceeding towards Acre, and that 
if they wait where they are they will soon see him. He plays to 
their dancing till nightfall, and then goes off well rewarded, and 
Salme, on being told of the Spielmann, once more recognizes her 
enemy. Next day Morolf appears as a butcher, and the day fol- 
lowing as a pedlar, and on the evening of this day he goes down 
to the sen, throws away his basket of wares, and goes off in his 
boat for Jerusalem, where he arrives after six months' absence. 

Salman is rejoiced to see him, but unwilling to risk his own 
life in another attempt to gain possession of the Queen ; Morolf 
has to lead the expedition himself; Duke Frederic joins him 
wqth a thousand men. They arrive at a mountain near Castel,* 
which is inhabited by a mermaid and a company of dwarfs. 
These recognise Morolf as a relative, and promise to assist him 
in recovering the Queen ; six dwarfs, accustomed to engineering 
operations, are to destroy the rocky passage connecting the 
Queen's dwelling with the castle, during the night, and Morolf 
is then to seize the stronghold and take Princian prisoner ; and 
this is successfully accomplished. Princian is allowed to go off 

* At the time of the Crusades there was a place with this name in the 
neighbourhood of Acre. 

Perthshire, 321 

free, but for this he proves ungrateful, as he brings his brother 
Beh'an with an army, and obliges Morolf and his men to fight a 
great battle. It ends with a duel between Morolf and Princian, 
and in Princian's head being thrown by Morolf into Salme's lap. 
After another absence of half a year Morolf returns to Jeru- 
salem with the captured Queen. He is allowed, according to 
promise, to dispose of her, and causes her to bleed to death in a 
bath. Salman is then married to Fore's sister, with whom he 
reigns happily for thirty years ; and then they both entered into 
God's mercv. 

' May his grace be with us also ! ' 

A. Menzies. 


A S we noticed in the first article, Forfarshire is made up of 
-LA. two parallel ridges and two depressions. The same four 
bands, continued to the eastward, form the greater part of 
Kincardine ; to the westward make up Perthshire. The three 
counties may thus be regarded as various modifications of the 
same simple general features. 

The strike or direction of hill and valley is decidedly to the 
Routh-west. The Grampians enter the county at the north- 
east corner, and there simply form the northern boundary ; but 
as they proceed they spread further down, until they occupy 
nearly the whole space from north to south. 

The other divisions, ere they reach the west, pass out of the 
county either in whole or in part. Strathmore, a lordly valley 
to begin with, is difficult to trace on its westward course, and 
becomes wholly insignificant. The Sidlaws simply cut off 
the south-east corner as far as Perth, where their course is 
brought to a somewhat abrupt conclusion. The maritime 
plain, naturally, from the structure of the county, the shortest 
of all, is represented by that alluvial stretch between the Sid- 

XXIII. 21 

322 Perthshire. 

laws and the sea, and from luvergowrie to Perth, known as 
the Carse of Gowrie. 

On the west and north the boundaries are lofty mountains, 
similar to those which separate between Forfar and Aberdeen, 
forming the watershed between Perthshire and adjoining 
counties.^ This tremendous rampai*t is broken only in two 
places, t.«., by the drear and solitary moor of Rannoch, and by 
Loch Erricht When it touches on Forfarshire the margin is 
continued along the ridge which separates between Glen Sbee 
and Glen Isla For two miles in the neighbourhood of Mount 
Blair, it is defined by the Shee, from which it diverges, to 
join the Isla, whose course it follows irregularly from Airlie 
Castle to Cardean, thence it is tame, and unmarked by any 
natural feature, until it reaches the Tay at Invergowrie. 
Crossing the river at Mugdrum near Newburgh, it follows the 
Ochil range, until, roughly speaking and omitting a number of 
confusing eccentricities, it picks up the Forth near Stirling. 
Thence, by Loch Katrine and Loch Lomond, it returns to the 
western barrier whence we started. 

The south-west corner, wtich we have characterised as the 
extension of the Forfarshire maritime plain, although it dijBTers 
in many important particulars, is about fifteen miles long by 
two to four miles broad. It is naturally widest on the Forfar- 
shire side, and narrows to a point as it approaches Perth. It 
is a flat stretch of Carse land, backed up by softly-swelling 
hills. The soil is a heavy rich clay, with a tendency to retain 
moisture in wet weather. As a quaint Scotch lady put it, ' it 
sometimes greets a' winter and girns a' simmer.' .. It is quite 
apparent that much of it has been redeemed from water quite 
recently. It seems impossible to eradicate the marsh grass, 
* Phragmites Communis,' which insists on springing up in the 
middle of the cornfields, and through the hedge-rows. The 
sluggish burns of the district are known by the strange name 
ot ' pows.' 

The Sidlaws cross into Perthshire at Gask Hill, and almost 
immediately rise into three considerable eminences. King's 
Seat, Black Hill, and Dunsinane. With the last of these a 
break occurs, and the range drops away to the south. Thence 

V — 


Perthshire. 323 

ID a line of somewhat lower elevation it is continued to Kin- 
noul, or, if we cross the Tay which separates the two, to Mon- 
crieff Hill. Beyond this latter height another gap of greater 
dimensions occurs, through which the Earn finds its way. The 
range, for it is really the same, drops away very considerably 
to the south, and thereafter is known as the Ochils. 

Perthshire Strathmore begins where the Isla flows under the 
bridge of Crathie, iu the picturesque neighbourhood of Meigle ; 
and increases in breadth and effectiveness until the Forfarshire 
stream joins the Tay at Kinclaven Castle. Here, and for some 
distance beyond, it is at its noblest, and presents a breadth of 
some twelve or fourteen milea One must have climbed the 
Sidlaws, or the Grampians, and looked down upon the scene 
to appreciate how impressive the greatness of this queen of 
Scottish valleys is. 

The first break in its continuity is caused by the high 
grounds which separate between the Almond and the Earn. 
Thenceforward, it is rather a series of cross valleys, with 
intervening ridges, than a single depression. The various 
streams which break out from the Highland hills, lend rather 
the breadth than the length of theif basins to the continuation 
of Strathmore. Beyond the Almond we once more strike the 
valley, under the new local name of Stratheam. On the far 
side of this, another ridge occurs, which separates the Earn 
from Strathallan. On crossing this a very noticeable change 
takes place in the flow of the waters. Before, the direction 
was approximately south-eastward, now it is as decidedly south- 
westward. This last ridge thus turns out to be a natural 
water-shed, a barrier between two drainage areas, directing 
the rainfall on the one side away north of the Ochils, to join 
the Tay iu the neighbourhood of Perth; and, on the other side, 
away south of the Ochils, into Stirlingshire, and the central 
valley of Scotland. The most southerly of all the Highland 
valleys suddenly expands and flattens down at Gartmore, 18 
miles above Stirling, into a level strath ; a broad band of 
carse ground ; and this strath, the luxuriant wheat-bearing 
vale of the Forth, after leaving the overshadowing flank of 
every spur of the Grampians, sweeps along all the remaining 

324 Perthshire. 

part of the sonthem boundary of the countj, so far as it lies 
upon the Forth. 

The remainder of Perthshire, two-thirds of the whole, belongs 
to the Highlanda Comparatively tame on the Strathmore 
side, these regions increase in sternness and elevation as they 
approach the borders of the county. The hills now opening 
kve space for a glen or to embosom a lake ; now closing 
to form a stupendous pass or gorge for the trembling stream, 
yield all the elements of grandeur, picturesqueness, and 
romantic beauty. 

How this has all been wrought into its attractive and im* 
pressive form seems simple enough if one has the key. Pro- 
fessor Archibald Geikie reads it somewhat thus : — When the 
scene rose above the waters, it presented a sea-worn track of 
land, unfurrowed and approximately flat. On this the rain 
fell ; and, after the manner of water, had a tendency to find the 
lowest level, and to take the nearest way to it. From the 
high ground, forming the present watershed, to the depression 
now known as Strathmore, would be the route chosen ; with 
deviations from the straight course here and there to take 
advantage of some shallow natural depression, or to avoid 
some specially hard piece of rock. This is nothing more than 
a great natural system of drainage; and to those who would 
cast any doubt on the explanation we would be inclined to say, 
how otherwise do you suppose the water would act? The 
same thing is illustrated every wet day where the rain falls 
on any elevation, however slightly raised above the general 
level. At first the water would run down in a wide and shallow 
stream; but, in course of time, it would find out the most 
easily erosible material and form a channel for itself. The 
rest is only a matter of time ; and the time which has elapsed 
since the process began is quite sufficient for the purpose. By 
ceaseless flow and wear, and the friction of the waste material 
it carried along in its course, the shallow here was deepened 
into a glen or gorge. The streams which give so much charm 
and life to the scene would thus seem to have been the primi- 
tive architects or sculptors of the whole. 

The Garry is one of these streams, rising in the northern 

PeHhshire. 325 

watershed, and flowing away south-east presumably in as 
direct a track for the plain as the obstacles, when its bed was 
being formed long ago, would allow. It is interesting to 
notice in passing that all the Forfarshire highland streams 
flow in the same direction in obedience to the same simple law. 
On its way the Garry receives the Tummel, and also the 
Tay at right angles to its course. These streams do not take 
the nearest way to the plain, but flow along in the direction 
or strike of the Strath. There are thus two laws at work in 
this hollowing out process ; the one forming transverae, the 
other longitudinal valleys. The Tummel and the Tay, in the 
early part of their course, are such longitudinal valleys. They 
flow along anticlinal arches, or what were once ridges of hills. 
It has been pointed out that in the crumpling process caused 
by the shrinkage of the earth's crust, the summits of those 
portions thrown up as ranges of mountains would necessarily 
be the weaker part, and most exposed to the action of eroding 
agents. But why do the Tummel and the Tay, after following 
this course for a certain distance, suddenly turn to the south 
and flow transversely. The explanation seems to be that the 
GaiTy was already in existence, and had ploughed a channel 
sufficiently deep before the longitudinal streams had reached 
that length at least in any volume. Unable to cross to the 
other side, these simply tumbled in, and helped to swell the 
southward flowing torrent. 

These Highland regions belong to the metamorphic series 
so characteristic of Scotland. Indeed, so largely do they 
bulk in the make up of the country that, not only do 
they determine the character of Scottish scenery, but for 
a long time they determined also the character of Scottish 
geology. Contorted and mixed up, and supposed to be 
destitute of fossils, they drew attention rather to the mineral 
composition of the rocks than to their orderly succession. The 
oldest of these rocks forms the outer Hebrides, and portions of 
the north-west coast of the mainland. Following these are 
certain sand-stones, quartzites, and lime-stones, of pre* 
Cambrian, and Cambrian age. So far all is plain enough. But 
what to make of the confused mass forming the north and 

326 FerthM/nre. 

centre of Scotland, from the Pentland Firth to the Caledonian 
Canal, and thence to Strathmore, was the enigma. And 
around this there raged for a long time *The Highland 
Controversy.' "It was reserved for two members of the Scottish 
Geological Survey working together, and a third geologist 
working independently, to discover the true solution ; and this 
they did as recently as 1884. The two members of the Survey 
were Messrs. B. N. Peach, and J. Home : and the independent 
worker was Professor Lapworth," What these observers dis- 
covered was, that an enormous displacement and inversion of 
the strata had taken place, so that great masses of ancient 
gneiss, etc., had been actually thrust over the top of more 
recent deposits. In this way the paradox, which had so 
perplexed the earlier geologists, was at once explained : — 

' All we can safely assert regarding the metamorphic rocks east of the 
great glen forming the Caledonian Canal, and including Perthshire, is that 
they represent in an altered condition a thick accumulation of various 
sedimentary deposits ; and that thick sheets of basic eruptive materials 
intercalated with huge bosses of granite, and other intrusive rocks have 
subsequently been injected into the whole. The Geological age of the 
great series of metamorphic rocks remains still doubtful.' 

To the north of the great glen these debatable rocks have 
not yet been overtaken by the Geological Survey. To the 
south they have been mapped out in detail. Those of Perth- 
shire are found to consist mainly of quartzites and mica schist, 
with a streak of lime-stone passing in the direction of Loch 
Tay. The quartzites and limestones may turn out to be of 
similar age with those of the west coast of Sutherland. A 
section from the neighbourhood of Dunkeld, first northward 
and then southward, will give a clear idea of the geological 
structure of Perthshire. The starting point we will make that 
curiously narrow strip of clay slate which crops out along or 
near the south-eastern boundary of the Highland rocks in a 
nearly uninterrupted line from Stonehaven on the east coast 
to Port-Bannatyne in the Isle of Bute. This band includes 
Birnam Hill, and is also seen at the Loch of Lowes near the 
Bridge of Gaily at Graig Lee, north of Grieff, Comrie, and Cal* 
lander. To the north of this appear the quartzites, and 

Perthshire. 327 

beyond these the foliated ciystalline schists with outcrops of 
limestone. These seem to tell the tale of their origin simply 

The clay slates along the southern boundary of the area 
indicate a period during which only this margin of land was 
submerged but with a gradually subsiding movement. Next, 
the arenaceous bands point to more distinctly marine condi- 
tions with deeper water, but still in the vicinity of dry land. 
The mica schists and limestones were laid down in still deeper 
water when the land had sunk to a lower level and oceanic 
conditions prevailed. Lastly, the land began to rise again 
resulting in a shallower sea in which arenaceous deposits were 
again laid down. Returning to the band of slate and journey- 
ing southward we immediately cross the great fault which 
more or less sharply marks off the metamorphosed rocks of the 
Highlands from the unchanged sedimentary deposits of the 
plain. The first member of the old red sandstone we meet, 
and also the lowest of the series, is the great conglomerate. 
It also passes across the country from sea to sea. Its position 
and extent are approximately indicated by the richly wooded 
stretch which it occupies. It is best seen where exposed in the 
beds of streams at Blairgowrie and elsewhere. The whole 
remaining breath of Strathmore is occupied by the upper old 
red sandstone. 

After the production of the comparatively level tableland of 
the Highlands, the land began to sink south of the great-fault. 
The sinking would direct the drainage towards the centre of 
depression. Along the bottom of the lake thus formed beds 
of pebbles brought down by streams from the crystalline rocks 
ot the Highlands would begin to accumulate. By the con- 
tinuous sinking of this area, these deposits would gradually 
creep back, and accumulations of sand would take place further 
out in the deeper water. In this manner the conglomerate 
would always preserve its position at the base of the system, 
and would, in its turn, get overlaid by the sand carried out 
towards the centre ot the lake. It is evident that, at the time 
of the formation of the conglomerate, the sides of the Gram- 

32H Pertluhire. 

piuDS must have formed the uorthem shore line of Lake Cale- 
douia, along which it was laid down as gravel 

On reaching the southern boundary of Strathmore, in the 
neighbourhood of Perth, we pass through the volcanic baud, 
represented in the Sidlaws, to reach the Carse of Gowrie. 
Here we come quite suddenly upon younger formations, such 
as the upper old red sandstones at Clashbennie, and even a 
patch of the still more recent carboniferous deposits at Dron, 
the only rocks of these ages in Perthshire. At first sight it is 
difficult to account for the preservation of these in a valley 
which seems to have been largely ploughed out by the stream. 
It would seem that, along with the erosion, there has been a 
movement of depression, the whole area being lowered down 
between two great cleavages on the once continuous strata. 

'* The northern line of fault is seen along the southern front 
of Moncrieff Hill, and it crosses the Tay somewhere about the 
back of lachyra, runuing along the foot of the Sidlaw hills 
towai'ds Pitroddie and Kinnaird, and thence eastward towards 
Dundee. The southern line of fault runs in a parallel direc- 
tion, extending from Glenearn along by Dron and Abernethy, 
and thence to Newburgh. The effect of this fault has been to 
bring down into the very heart of the old red sandstone, rocks 
of the upper old red sandstone members, and even the base- 
ment beds oi the carboniferous series. This trough fault has 
had a most important influence on the topography of the dis- 
trict, for it has carried down the hard volcanic rocks and 
presented to the surface the softer overlying sandstones of the 
upper old red and carboniferous series, which, in turn, have 
been worn away by the process of denudation, and thus given 
rise to the present valley of the Tay below Perth. 

Igneous outcrops of various ages occur in Perthshire, from 
those present among the metamorphosed rocks of the High- 
lands to those which run in streaks across the valleys, scarcely 
rising above the surface of the plain. The most familiar to the 
ordinary observer are those which belong to the lower old red 
sandstone period, represented in the line of the Sidlaws and 
the Ochils. At intervals considerable volcanic activity seems 
to have prevailed at the bottom of that old lake of Caledonia, 

Perthshire. 329 

leading to vast outpourings, of which these familiar hills are 
the remnant. 

Between the lower old red sandstone and the old tertiary- 
eras there is no evidence of any disturbance in Perthshire. 
The upper old red sandstone of the Carse of Gowrie, like the 
same deposits elsewhere, is unbroken by igneous rocks. And 
the same holds true of the minute patch of carboniferous 
strata. But on the last series of disturbances to which we owe 
the Inner Hebrides, the county seems to have had its full 
share. In the geological map these intrusive basalt rocks may 
be seen crossing the valley in narrow lines of red. We are 
likely to meet them in tracing out the course of the Tay. 
They represent the welling up of the molten rocks through 
cracks in the earth's crust, and may either have reached the 
surface at the first or been afterwards exposed by denudation. 

The running waters of Perthshire include the two noblest 
rivers in Scotland; indeed, may be said to consist of these 
two rivers and their tributaries. Forth and Tay rise among 
its mountains. 

The Forth belongs to the south-east corner, showing how 
far and fast the metamorphic heights have crept south. Its 
basin bears about the same relation to that of the Tay as the 
Carse of Gowrie bears to the rest of the county. It is a 
Perthshire river only in the sense in which a man who was 
born there, but has spent the greater part of his life elsewhere, 
may be called a Perthshire man. It is on the far side of the 
high ground which directs the waters to the southward, and 
escapes through the gap between the Ochils and the Campsies. 
From the first it belono;s only half to Perth and half to 
Stirling ; its two head waters rising one in each county. The 
northern and more important branch is nameless. Beginning 
in the neighbourhood of Loch Katrine, it expands into several 
beautiful sheets of water. Ira mediately after leaving Loch 
Ard it tumbles over a fall of thirty feet, and a mile further 
down is joined by the Stirlingshire branch, the Duchray 
water. Through the narrow pa^^s of Aberfoyle the com- 
bined streams reach that portion of Strathmore formed 
by the valley of the infant Forth. It now coquettes 

330 Perthshire. 

for awhile on the low grounds between Perth and Stirling, be- 
fore finally deserting its native county. This is by far the 
most interesting and picturesque comer of Perthshire, a veri- 
table fairyland of beautv and romance. 

It is only necessary to recall the name of the first con- 
siderable tributarv to be made aware of this. What a 
wonderful district the Teith brightens and vivifiea Like the 
Forth, it rises in two head waters. The southern ot these 
makes a run of four miles from its origin, due south-west, 
to the head of Loch Katrine. Passing through the entire 
length of the loch, it emerges from the south-east corner, 
and immediately begins to traverse the Trossachs, ' a con- 
tracted vale, whose sides are soaring eminences, wildly and 
irregularly feathered all over with hazels, oaks, birches, haw- 
thorns, and mountain ashes ; and whose centre space is a 
tumultous confusion of little rocky heights, all of the most 
fantastic and extraordinary forms, everywhere shaggy with 
trees and shinibs, and presenting an aspect of roughness 
and wildness of tangled and inextricable boskiness, totally 
unexampled, it is supposed, in the world.' Debouching 
from this scene, it is instantly lost in Loch Achray, and 
one and a half miles further on it is engulfed in Loch 
Vennacher, overhung by B^^n Ledi. On issuing from the 
latter lake it assumes the name of Eas Gobhain, the Smith, 
and under this wild designation it careers on till it meets the 
twin stream. We have all visited this region under the most 
skilful and delightful guidance. 

The Tay, while yet within the mountain fastnesses which 
watch over its early course, is made up of three considerable 
streams. The Garry, which, as we have seen, takes the nearest 
way to the lower level, flows south-east. Its channel is deep, 
its flow is tumultuous, its banks are rugged and occasionally 
savage. Its main tributaries are the Biuar and the Tilt. The 
former is justly noted for its falls. The glen ot the latter was 
the scene of that never-to-be-forgotten battle in which the late 
redoubtable Professor Bal our and his followers asserted their 
right-of-way, and won, not for the first time a signal victory. 
The Highland caterans who stood in their way, were not less 

Perthshire* 331 

astounded at their assurance in disputing the slightest wish of 
the Duke, than by the imbecility of the visitors who had come, 

'' A htinner mile 
For what was hardly worth their while, 

And a' tae pa' 

Some girse that grew 

On Ben Maodha, 

That ne'er a coo 
Wad think tae pit her mou' till." 

The second of these streams, the Tummel, is popularly re- 
garded as flowing out of Loch Rannoch on the east side of 
this moor, although it may be traced further into the wilds, 
and identified with the Rannoch and tbe Gauer. Its early 
course is rapid, but after it joins the Garry and bends to the 
south, much quieter. Seeing that it borrows the channel ot 
the Garry and uses it for the remainder of its journey, it seems 
somewhat less than justice that it should insist also in giving 
its name to the combined waters. But so it ia 

A third stream rises in the western water-shed separating 
Perthshire from Argyllshire, and flows approximately east to 
Loch Dochart. In this earliest stage it is known as the Fillan. 
Issuing from the loch as the Dochart, it pursues a further 
course of eight miles to Killin. There it is joined by the 
Lochy, and the two enter Loch Tay together. It now takes 
the name which it bears for the remainder of its course. From 
Ken more, on the east side of the loch, to its junction with the 
Tummel, is some fourteen milea A farther flow of seven or 
eight miles leads past Dunkeld and out of the Highland region. 

The vale of the Tay, from Dunkeld to Kenmore, a space of 
twenty-five miles, is a continued scene of beauty — a majestic 
river winding through a richly- wood e<^ and cultivated coun- 
try, with a lofty and somewhat parallel mountain boundary, 
which is itself cultivated as far as cultivation is possible, and 
is everywhere covered with continuous woods or trees, as high 
as woods can grow. In its magnificent sweep across Strath- 
more, from below Dunkeld to Perth by Einclaven Castle, it is 
not too much to say that what it loses in pioturesqueness it 
gains in majesty. Its passage through the western part of the 

33-2 Perthshire. 

Carse of Gowrie, as seen from Kiuuoul hill, is somethiug to be 
remembered. Below Inchyra, but on the opposite side, it 
receives the lordly tributary of the Earn. *In the general 
course of this my careful narrative,' says John Ruskin, * I rebut, 
with as much indignation as may be permitted without ill 
manner, the charge of partiality to anything merely because 
it was seen when I was young, that Scottish sheaves are more 
golden than they are found in other lands, and that no harvest 
elsewhere visible to human eyes are so like the com of heaven 
as those of Strath Tay and Strath Earn.' Below the point we 
have reached the features of the river are blotted out by the 
tidal waters.. The main tributaries of the Tay after it issues 
from the hills are the Isla, which comes out of Forfarshire and 
joins it at the nearest point of approach to that county at Kin- 
claven Castle. Perhaps it would be as well to add the Emcht, 
which makes up a considerable portion of the volume of the 
Isla, and is a true Perthshire stream. The Almond on the 
north side of Perth; and, separated from it by the ridge already 
mentioned, the Earn on the south side, complete the list. 

At the risk of a little repetition, it may be worth while to 
return and once more follow the river on its course seaward. 
We may thus be able to bring to the surface one or two inter- 
esting facts and map out its bed. 

The Tay, as we have seen, passes over the two main divi- 
sions of the strata of the county, the metamorphosed rocks of 
the Highlands, and the sedimentary rocks of the Lowlands. 
From Kenmore on Loch Tay to two miles below Dunkeld its 
flow is over the former, thenceforward over the latter. About 
a mile below Uunkeld it crosses the strip of clay slate already 
referred to, thence to Caputh its bed is formed of the great 
conglomerate or first member of the sandstone series. In its 
way through Strathmore it meets several of these remarkable 
basalt dykes; in one instance, just below Cargill, being de- 
flected from its course, and forced to run parallel with one of 
these for half a mile before effecting a passage. At Stormont- 
field it flows over a local outcrop of conglomerate about six 
hundred yards wide. From Perth to Inchyra it crosses the 
band of volcanic rocks forming the Sidlaw range. An accom- 


Perthshire. 333 

plished geologist ask why it did not take the seemingly open 
course around Moncrieff hill into Stratheam ; and reasons that 
it must have found it still easier to flow along the anticlinal 
arch through which it has ploughed its present bed. Beyond 
this, fot the rest of its coarse, it runs parallel with these Sid- 
law hills, between them and the corresponding Ochil range 
along the north of Fife. 

Closely associated with the streams are the lakes. These 
are the characteristic feature of the county, and lend it most 
of its romantic charm. Remove them and the light would 
go out. These lakes for the most part belong to the northern 
division, and lie pent up among the hills. They appear 
together in linear groups, three or four gems strung together 
on the silver thread of the stream. The head waters, generally 
before they have attained any volume, expand into sheets re- 
appearing at the far end, only to form at no great distance 
another, and still another sheet. Instance the Forth, one of 
whose parent streams forms, and strings together Loch Conn, 
Loch Dow, and Loch Ard. The Teith, with its still rarer gems, 
Loch Katrine, Loch Achray, and Loch Vennacher. 

The simplest and most natural explanation of these lochs, 
seems to be that the stream found a hollow on its course, 
which it proceeded to fill, overflowing at the far end, and con- 
tinuing on its way till it came on a second, and a third hollow. 
So far all is plain enough ; but the depressions in the High- 
land glens in which the waters of the streams thus gathered 
into the form of lakes, themselves need explaining. And to 
Professor A. C. Ramsay belongs the honour of making clear 
their origin and meaning. 

The lakes in the Highland district of Perthshire lie in clear 
stony basins, which must in some way have been scooped out 
of the hard underlying rock. This is a work far beyond the 
power of running water, even if we grant that at one time 
there was a much greater volume than we have now. 

A hint as to the real cause is supplied by the fact that the 
sides of these rocky basins are smoothed, and often scored, as 
if by the passing over of some tremendous weight The only 
agent known to have been in operation in the past hiettcNry of 

334 Pert/ishire. 

the place, sufScient to account for these appearances, is ice. 
Some obstacle interrupted the even flow of the glacier down 
the valley, and piled up the ice. The greater mass would 
cause increased pressure, and give greater powers of erosion 
at that particular place. That passed, the ice would resume 
its normal flow until another, and a third obstacle presented 
themselves. Thus a second sculptor is needed to account for 
these Highland scenes. First, the streams which broke up the 
monotonous tableland into picturesque gorges and valleys ; 
and, long afterwards, the glaciers which filled these valleys, 
and by their unequal pressure added the charm of the lake to 
that of the stream. Loch Tay, large and deep as it is, like the 
other rock-enclosed lakes, has had its basin scooped out by 
land ice. 

Outside the Highland region, and within the area of the old 
red sandstone, there exists a remarkable string of lakes, be- 
ginning in the neighbourhood of Dunkeld, and passing to the 
south of Blairgowrie in the direction of Coupar Angus. These 
undoubtedly mark an ancient glacier track, but the explana- 
tion is not the same. They probably illustrate another principle 
of lake formation, also pointed out by Professor Rarasay, where 
the water, instead of filling some scooped out rocky basin, is 
gathered into a hollow in the superficial deposit, or detained 
by some bar of drift left across the valley by the retreating 
ice. A number of such lakes seem at one time to have existed 
all along Forfarshire Strathmore. 

It need scarcely be said that a county so essentially high- 
land as Perthshire is rich in its Alpine flora. In addition to its 
elevations, and favourable sites, it provides in the waste of its 
mica schists, just the sort of soil which these plants seem to 
thrive in, bare but invigorating. The Alpine region of Great 
Britain is Scotland, and the Alpine region of Scotland is a 
comparatively restricted one, consisting only of the Clova and 
Caenlochan heights and fastnesses, which we have already 
visited; and the Breadalbane mountains of Perthshire. Between 
the rival counties Perthshire possesses the advantage of having 
the largest number gathered on one hill side, Ben Lawers, of 
which we shall have occasion to give an independent sketch 


Perthshire. 335 

further on, and is incomparably the richest field for Alpines in 
Scotland. In comparing the two counties it is interesting to 
discover how evenly balanced the honours are. They have 
exactly the same number of species, and so far they agree ; 
but each county numbers seven species not found in the other. 
In our excursion to the mountains above Glen Dole we 
mentioned this Oxytropis campetris, which is not found in 
Perthshire, or anywhere else in Great Britaiu. On the top of 
a hill we found the Alpine catchfly, Lychnis alpina, which is not 
met again till we cross the border into Cumberland. The 
largest of our hill plants, quite a giant among the dwarfs, the 
Alpine sowthistle, Mulgedium alpinum, grows in Caenness 
at the top of Glen Isla, and elsewhere in Lochnagar. So much 
for Forfarshire. In Perthshire, on the other hand, we find Saxi- 
fraga cernua growing on the west side, near the summit of 
Ben Lawers, this being its only site within these islands. 
Menzensia cserul^a, a species of heath with large purple bell, 
is found on the Sow of Athole. The Alpine forget-me-not, 
Myosotis alpestris, grows freely enough on Ben Lawers, but 
not between that and Teesdale. 

The most remarkable plant common to both counties is the 
snowy gentian, Gentiana nivalis, which we found onCaenlochan, 
and now again come upon on the west side of the Cairn of 
Ben Lawers. Among ferns, Polypodium alpestre is found in 
Glen Proseu, Forfarshire, but not in Perthshire. Whereas 
Cystopteris montana, Woodsia ilvensis, and hyporborea, are all 
very rare, but found in both counties. This will serve for the 
only division of plant life which is characteristic and worth 
mentioning, until we come to describe a typical Perthshire 

If we are delighted with the flora of Perthshire, we must 
confess to being somewhat disappointed with the fauna. It is 
just such a county as we should expect to be rich in species, 
full of rare creatures ; but very careful and extensive 
enquiries have led to the sorrowful conclusion that a rapid and 
only too successful process of extermination is going on. We 
are prepared to find that all sorts of game animals abound, for 
that is what the proprietors make their money by, and all that 

X\i\ J'erthifhire. 

Ih'IIh 8(»om to be <tf use for : but we are scarcely prepared for 
the abiKist complete extinction of the real or supposed 
(b'Stroyers of pjaims many of them, nnt\\nth8tandiDg their 
habitR, extremely intercstinp^ and beautiful animal& We 
are sure that it would startle Pome people if we pub- 
lished a few of tlie HstH we have at our hand now. Forfar- 
shire, with its comparatively restricted hill area, has a better 
recM»rd to show. We cannot refrain pleading, * Mercy gentle- 
Tiien, for you are gentlemen, and not cockneys or millionaires. 
Then* are surelv other interests in the world beside so called 
s{H»rt. If you kill out all the eagles you won't be able to make 
another, and that is a pity.' 

Ked (leer, roe deer, and fallow deer abound. Some 
intiresting varieties of the latter are kept at Taymouth 
<'!ist[e. Ptarmigan and dotterel possess the heights. 
Ke<l grouse, capercaillie and blackcock, pheasant and part- 
ridge, are numerouR in their favourite haunts of heather, 
fir plantation, wood copse or stubble. The blue hare 
iR (HI the hills, the grey hare on the plains, the fox in the 
covt-rt, the otter by the stream ; all these more or less lend 
therr.Relves to sport. Here the favourable record ends, as far 
as land animals are concerned. The polecat, the marten, and 
the wild cat, seem to be extinct. Tf any survive, they must 
have a genius for keeping out of sight ; naughty animals, no 
doubt, but still worth looking at. The badger, an innocent 
enough brute, is almost as rare among the wilds as it is in the 
tamer landscapes of Fifeshire. Golden eagles and peregrine 
falcons are very much less common now than they ought to 
he, in this, their native laud. 

The waterfowl on the magnificent lakes and broad stretches 
of river are too varied to mention, for waterfowl seem able to 
look after themselves ; but even here the genius of destruction 
pursues every animal with a hooked bill. The osprey or fish- 
ing hawk is reported as only occasional, instead of, as it ought 
to be, common. This is one of the birds which, for obvious 
reasons, is absent from Forfarshire. 

There seems to be some doubt about the goldfinch, as to 
whether it does not still hold a precarious footing in Perth- 

Perthshire. 337 

shire, somewhere in the neighbourhood of Dunkeld. There is 
little use troubling ourselves to enquire, for, if it is not extinct 
it soon will be. Among the warblers, which are all summer 
visitors, except the robin and the hedge ' sparrow,' the more 
interesting forms reported from Perthshire are, the garden 
warbler, which seems to be common in some districts, and the 
grasshopper warbler, which appears only very occasionally. 

Perthshire has its full share of the antiquities usually found 
in the eastern counties of Scotland. Quite a large number of 
stone circles, some of them wonderfully perfect, represent the 
bronze age. These are locally known, and even more gener- 
ally regarded as Druid temples. They seem to have no claim, 
however, to the questionable honour ; but were associated 
with the funeral customs of those distant times, marking out 
the place of individual or family interment. 

Hill forts, which belong to the succeeding iron age, are also 
numerous, and some of considerably more than usual interest 
are found. 

An example of a structure usually referred to this same era, 
which we have not yet met with, was discovered at Coldoch 
in 1870. The typical characteristics of the special form which 
has come to be known in recent years by the local northern 
name of Broch, are as follows : ' It is a hollow circular tower 
of dry stone masonry, rarely more than 70 or less than 40 feet 
in its total diameter, and occasionally at least 50 feet high. Its 
circular wall, which may be from 9 to 20 feet thick, is carried 
up solid for about 10 feet, except where it is pierced by the 
entrance, or partially hollowed by the construction within its 
thickness of oblong chambers with rudely vaulted roofs. 
Above this height the wall is carried up, with a vacancy of 
about 3 feet wide between its exterior and interior portions. 
At every 5 or 6 feet of its height this vacancy is crossed by 
horizonal ranges of slabs inserted as ties between the outer 
and inner shells of the wall, so that their upper surface forms 
a floor to the space above, and their under surface becomes a 
roof to the space below. These spaces thus form horizontal 
galleries, about 6 feet high and 3 feet wide, separated from 
each other vertically by the slabs of their floors and roofa 

XXIII. 22 

338 Perthshire. 

Thoy ruu completely round the tower, except that they are 
crossed successively by the stair which gives access to them. 
They arc lighted by ranges of peculiarly constructed windows 
placed vertically over each other, and all looking into the cen- 
tral area enclosed by the wall of the tower. This area or 
court varies from 20 to 45 feet in diameter. At various points 
in its interior circumference are placed the openings which 
give access to the chambers on the ground floor within the 
wall, and to the stair which extends to the galleries. The 
only aperture to the outside of the tower is the doorway. It 
is always on the ground level, 5 or 6 feet high, and rarely 
more than 3 feet wide, passing straight through the thickness 
of the wall, and then varying from 9 to 18 feet in length.' 

Those wiudowless, roofless, dry stone erections, have some- 
times been represented as the immediate predecessors of the 
more modem castle. They were evidently designed as retreats 
in time of danger. Their peculiar nature as exceptionally 
secure places of refuge for non-combatants and cattle, and for 
storage of produce, explains the fitness of their association 
with the arable soils of the area in which they are most abun- 
dantly present. 

The principal interest in the Broch at Coldoch, is that it is 
one of three found south of the Caledonian Canal. It is clear 
that the principal area of this type lies within the region to the 
north of that valley comprehending the five northern counties 
of Scotland. Within that area they are known to exist 
abundantly, beyond it spareely; out of Scotland the type is. 
unknown. The most perfect is that of Mousa, in Shetland, and 
the writer found it quite a familiar object in his wanderings 
through the Northern Isles. 

Those who have already burned their fingers at archaeology, 
will have a wholesome dread of again approaching the fire. 
Especially will they hesitate to dogmatise on anything Roman, 
whether it be Roman camps or Roman bridges. Authorities 
are by no means agreed as to the so-called Roman remains in 
Perthshire, although these are carefully marked in the 
Ordinance Survey map, and recorded elsewhere. But there 
seems no good reason to doubt the genuineness of so much as 

Perthshire. 339 

is left of the camp at Ardoch, the largest of the kind in Scot- 

Dunblane and Dunkeld were ecclesiastical establishments, 
whose history dims away back into tradition. Among the 
more notable secular buildings, ruinous and inhabited, are 
Kinclaven-and Elcho, Huntly, Taymouth, and Blair Castles. 

^ Elcho Castle occupies a picturesque situation on the south bank of the 
Tay, about five miles eastward from the City of Perth. The building is in 
a good state of preservation^ and though it has long been abandoned as a 
residence by the noble family to whom it belongs, the courtesy title of 
Lord Elcho is borne by the heir apparent. That there was some kind of 
keep near this spot in the time of Wallace is certain. But from the style 
of its construction the present castle seems to be not older than the 
sixteenth century.' 

' The great historic scene in the parish of Kenmore is Taymouth Castle, 
the seat of the noble family of Breadalbane. Its former name was Balloch, 
which signifies the mouth or outlet of a lake or glen. Both Balloch and 
Taymouth describe the situation of this mansion, which is by the mouth of 
the Tay, a mile east of the point where it flows out of the loch. Taymouth 
Castle is a truly magnificent pile, with a lofty quadrangular tower in the 
centre, carrying up a superb staircase. Its environs are as magnificent as 
itself. The vale is not spacious enough to admit of that apparently bound- 
less contiguity of park which constitutes such a charm round the baronial 
residences of England. But the hills are abrupt, luxuriantly wooded, and 
broken into every sort of picturesque and varied outline. 

No notice of Perthshire would be complete without a 
reference to Scone. Most of the long line of Scottish Kings 
were crowned there. The glory of the royal city of Scone 
departed long ago. Old Scone, as it is distinctively called, is 
now a hamlet rather than a village. Being inconveniently 
near the palace, William, third Earl of Mansfield, possessed 
himself of all the property in it which he could acquire by 
purchase or by exchange, and enclosed it within the wall of 
the palace grounds. The relics there of the city which are still 
to be seen are the burying-ground which surrounded the church 
and the cross. The former the Earl could not remove, and 
the latter has been allowed to stand near its original site. The 
feuars bought out had the option of taking feus at New Scone. 
Thither the parish church and manse were transferred, so also 
was the church seat of the Scone family, which was set up in 

340 Perth$hire. 

the now clnirch. TIh' present palace was reared on fhe aite 
of the old ono 1803-8. 

l!i PiTthshire tlio warring elements of civilisatioo and bar- 
hari»in were brought dang«Tously near together. These meta- 
inoq)liic hillR, witli thoir wild glens, which we have juat 
doRcribc'd, offered a Becure retreat for the ancient Celtio in- 
habitants of the land, and the valley of Stratbmore, running 
along their base, was a convenient highway for invadera On 
the southern margin of the plain, within easy reach of thoee 
hills, was a rich city, for a long time the capital of Scotland 
and the frequent resort of the Court For many centuries 
faction was constant and raids frequent The only check 
upon those were the feuds among the Highland chieftains 
themselves. The most dramatic incident in these feuds was 
the combat on the North Inch in the reign of Robert III. 
Thirty of the best men of Clan Chattan met a like number of 
(^lan Kay, and all but annihilated each other in the presence 
of the Court A barbarous proceeding no doubt, but they 
would have done it at any rate when the carnage would have 
been greater, and it served the further purpose of laming them 
so that they could not do mischief to more peacefully disposed 
people. No revolution could be more complete than that which 
has taken place in the relation between the inhabitants of 
mountain and plain. These Perthshire fastnesses, which 
Simon Glover visited with fear and trembling, and from which 
Bailie Nieol Jarvie failed to bring away both tails of his coat, 
are now the pleasant summer resort of the good citizens of 
both Perth and Glasgow. 

There are three places in Perthshire of exceptional interest 
If a line were drawn from Loch Katrine in the south-west, to 
Perth in the south-east, and a line from each of these places 
to Ben Lawers in the middle, inclining to the west, the shape 
would be approximately an equilateral triangle. The main 
interest in the three places varies ; that of Loch Katrine being 
scenic and romantic : of Perth, traditional and historic ; of 
Ben Lawers, natural inclining to scientific. Loch Katrine is 
the paradise of tourists and sight seers ; Perth, although its 
situation is unrivalled, of antiquaries and those who take an 

Perthshire. 341 

interest in matters human ; Ben Lawers, although the view 
from the summit is worth the climb, of botanists. 

Loch Katrine is well known, at all events as it is reflected in 
the pages, or rather appears on the highly coloured canvas of 
Scott. This was the rare haunt of the Lady of the Lake, a 
scene which few will leave unvisited who would understand 
the fascioation of typical Scottish scenery, or the modern 
development of the Highlands. A wonderful revolution took 
its rise there. The half natural half romantic charm with 
which Scott invested it drew visitors from the ends of the 
earth to look on for themselves. These went home to tell 
their neighbours, and so the rush began, and the popularity of 
the Highlands increased. 

The gift was half for good and half for evil. It created a 
taste for natural beauty now so common, but until then almost 
unknown ; and it brought a lot of money to the poorest district 
of a poor country. In this way it made the Highlands, and 
opened up a new source of pure enjoyment to large classes of 

If along with this it helped to spoil and disturb these fair 
scenes ; if it caused fashionable hotels to be raised along these 
lake sides ; if, as Baillie Nicol Jarvie would phrase it, it brought 
' the saut market o' Glesca' into the hielants ; * if it introduced 
a new race of vulgar and upstart proprietors and lessees ; in 
this, as in other things, we must take the evil along with the 

Ben Lawers, with an elevation of nearly four thousand feet, 
like many another height in this country, is dome-shaped. It 
rises on the north side of Loch Tay, in the angle which the 
broad basin of that sheet of water forms with the glen, narrow- 
ing into the pass of Lyon. We have seen that such depressions 
running east and west are not natural valleys, but rather lie 
along anticlinal arches, the strata being bent upwards as if at 
one time they met in some point overhead. Placed between 
two such valleys, we are prepared to find that Ben Lawers is 
not a natural height formed by an upward curving of the 
schist of which it is composed, but actually lies in a basin of 
the rocks which dip underneath the mountains on the banks of 

342 Perthshire. 

Loch Tay, and rise up from its further skirt in Glen Lyon. In 
other words, the appearances are such as to suggest that once 
upon a time mountains rose on either side into still more 
gigantic heights, which overarched the present valleys of the 
Lyon and the Tay. 

These features are by no means peculiar to Ben La wars, but 
are shared by other elevations between the glens. It is as a 
field for Alpines that it reigns without rival among the moun- 
tains of Great Britain. 

We have already indicated the rarer forms to be found there, 
and it would be impossible to name all the rest. Among those 
more generally distributed are the yellow and starry saxi- 
frages. Above two thousand feet the opposite-leaved, and 
mountain saxifrages, the alpine meadow rue, the mouse-eared 
chick weed {Cerastium alpinum) and the rose root are found. 
Rocky places yield the interesting dwarf willows, Salix hen^bacea 
and reticulata. And near the summit grows the stemless cam- 
pion silene acaulis. The brittle fern, and green spleenwort are 
common ; and at somewhat greater heights the common shield 
fern and the holly fern. 

Beautiful for situation is Perth, and interesting as beautifuL 
One is always charmed, and one never weariea * Ecce Tiber ! 
Ecce campus Martius ! ' exclaimed the Roman as he came in 
sight of that eddy of the plain on which it stands with its 
sweep of Tay. And an exclamation equally involuntary, and 
even more complimentary, comes to the lips of every sensitive 
person who approaches in the same direction. The scene, it is 
happily impossible even for human ingenuity to spoil. But 
there, as elsewhere, many of the ancient things are being 
swept away by that relentless spirit of improvement which is 
either lacking in imagination, or overcharged with zeal. 

Many a stirring incident has it witnessed in the course of its 
long history of which no record in stone and lime remains. 
Among the rest there was that half comic episode known as 
the Gowrie Conspiracy; and that more sternly tragic one 
which brought about the end of our poet king, James L One 
asks for Gowrie palace, the scene of the former, and is pointed 
to the County Buildings ; for Blackfriars Monastery, the scene 



Perthshire. 343 

of the latter, and is directed to PuUar's dyework. The castle, 
which Perth like other old places once boasted, has long been 
razed to the ground, and its site is approximately indicated by 
the name of a street. 

This is disappointing. True, there is a large square portion 
of quaint, narrow-streeted old town left, by the aid of which 
we can realise to a certain extent the life of the eighteenth 
century. And there are signs that a spirit of protection 
and revival is awakening. 

Although so large, Perthshire is strictly inland. Twice a 
day, indeed, the tidal waters lave the Carse of Gowrie ; but 
that gives no claim to a coast. Inverness, Ross, all our bulkier 
counties either margin the sea, or some considerable arm of the 
sea for a greater or less distance. The coastless shires, such 
as Stirling and Lanark, are with this exception, comparatively 

Perthshire is not only essentially inland, but also essentially 
upland. Three-fourths of it belong to the metamorphic moun- 
tain system ; the other fourth forming a broad fringe of 
magnificent plain. These elements have determined not only 
the nature of its scenery, but the character and relations of its 
inhabitants. And if the new conditions of life introduced 
within the last half century, primarily by the work of Sir 
Walter Scott, are modifying the human elements, they have 
done nothing to alter the scene. 

This is the central county of Scotland in more senses than 
one, and has the natural and hereditary right to be regarded 
as queen of the land. It was the first to draw attention 
hitherward, and still remains the chief attraction. When the 
Southron talks of the Highlands he means Perthshire ; when 
he starts for the Highlands he arrives in Perthshire. There are 
doubtless ' hills beyond Grampians, and lands beyond Tay ' ; 
but on either side of the great water-shed which marks the 
northern boundary of this county there is a tendency to become 
tamer and commoner. The charm of the scene is according 
to the seekers. To some it may be those stream-ploughed 
ravines, and glacier-scooped lakes ; to others the purple 
autumn hills with the whirring coveys of richly dark birds ; 

.344 Modern Moflvma, 

but cburm there is for all And if men would only leave the 
wild life alone we do not know that there would be a more 
interesting and enchanting place to spend a sammer holiday 
than this i^anie Perthshire. The other counties may well aay, 
as was once said of a great statesman, ' We are all proud of 

J. H. Crawford. 

Akt. VI.— modern MOSLEMS. 

THE wish to form an unprejudiced estimate of Islam, which 
manifests itself in the writings of various distinguished 
Europeans at the present time, leads them on the one hand to 
lend a willing ear to the statements of such Moslems as are 
anxious to represent themselves as liberal and advanced thinkers, 
and on the other to weigh the words of the Kor&n against the 
deeds of Christians. But it is impossible to judge what Islam is 
really like without living for a considerable period in Mojdem 
countries, and this not in cities only but in villages, not among 
the settled people but also among nomads; and without consider- 
ing the beliefs and manners of various classes of society, and of 
various nations — Arab, Persian, Turkish, and Egyptian. Islam 
is no more united than is Christendom, and the differences of be- 
lief which distinguish classes and nations in Europe are, perhaps^ 
less extreme than those which divide men in Moslem countries. 
With every wish to be fair to Moslems, we must yet beware of 
over-stating their virtues, and of under-estimating those of more 
civilized peoples. The teaching of the Koran must be weighed 
against the teaching of the Gospel, and the deeds of Moslems 
compared with those of Christians. Above all, we must beware 
of receiving without suspicion the representations of men who 
are not held in esteem by the more strict followers of Muhammad, 
and whose European education often results in their having no 
real religion of any kind. It may be interesting, therefore, to 
consider in detail the actual condition of society in Moslem 

Modem Moslems, 345 

Such an enquiry includes on the one hand that concerning 
the religious beliefs of various classes, and on the other that con- 
cerning their ethics and morality. The first is to a great extent 
a question of class, and the second a question of race. Yet in all 
cases the Moslem belief differs according to the country studied, 
and morality also depends in some degree on social position and 

In no Asiatic country do we find the Moslem religion to be 
exactly that of the Koran. Among the peasantry it is but a thin 
veneer, covering the survival of more ancient superstition. 
Among the more educated, Persian, Hindu and Buddhist ideas, 
Greek philosophy and modern agnosticism — all equally unknown 
to the Prophet — have deeply affected the orthodoxy of even those 
who profess respect for religion. Muhammad himself was in- 
fluenced by contemporary beliefs — Jewish and Christian — to so 
great an extent that, in reading the Koran, we fail to find any- 
thing original save that which is negative. In early youth he 
had travelled throughout Syria, and found it full of Greek and 
Jacobite Christians. At Bozrah, at Damascus, and further 
north, he saw around him the gorgeous display of Byzantine 
Christianity, which was the received faith of the many, though 
Paganism — Greek and Arab — had still its votaries in remote 
corners. He found bishops living as princes, and treated almost 
as divine persons. He saw cathedrals, churches, and monasteries, 
monks, nuns and hermits. It is often forgotten, in considering 
his knowledge of Christianity, that he did not depend on the re- 
ports of stray Christians in Arabia, or on the teaching of his 
Coptic slave- wife, Maria ; but that he had actual knowledge of 
the life and rites of Christians, in the Holy Land, under the 
Christian Emperors of Byzantium. 

The statements concerning Christianity, in the Kor&n, are in 
no case so definite as to suggest that Muhatnmad had read any 
gospel or epistle. They are often based on the apocryphal gospels, 
which were so popular from the 4th century downwards, on the 
teaching of sects like the Marcionites, CoUyridians, and others 
who early spread Gnosticism in Arabia, and perhaps on that of 
the Abyssinian and Coptic Christians, who had their churchesiit 
Sana and Aden. Muhammad specially refutes the ancient teach- 

^A(\ Modern MoflemM. 

ing of Cerinthus, to which Clement of Alexandria inclined, which 
denied a human body to Christ. But his account of the birth of 
Jesus recalls the legend of Buddha, and the Arab ^Oospel of the 
Infancy/ The Suras which relate to such subjects, seem rather 
to represent the memory of conyersations with Christians, than 
the results of reading or of doctrinal instruction ; and Muhammad 
prided himself always on being an * unlearned prophet,' whose 
v«»rc.»s were not taught to him by men or books, but inspired 
from on hi^h. 

As a trader, in charge of the merchandise of Khadijah, he also, 
no doubt, came into close contact with the Jewish merchants, 
who were numerous in Northern Arabia, and who were settled in 
all the Syrian cities. It has often been pointed out that the 
legends of the Koran are in great measure based on those of 
the later Jews, found especially in the Babylonian Talmud. 
Muhammad had no doubt a Jewish wife — Kihanah ; but his re-* 
]K?titi(m of stories concerning Pharaoh, Joseph, Moses, Abraham, 
Solomon, and Ezra, reads like the echo of conversations with 
♦lews, who were more deeply versed in the legendary lore of their 
race than any Jewish woman is likely to have been. 

The influence of the Persian religion on Muhammad himself 
was small, though it became important in the later history of 
Islam. The Prophet predicted the triumph of the Greeks^ at a 
time when the Koreish, at Mecca, were rejoicing in the victories 
of the fire worshippers. He knew of the Magians, their rites and 
tlieir legendary tales. The Ilouris of his paradise no doubt recall 
the Ilurani Behisht of the Persians, and the Apsaras of India — 
nymphs of the Zoroastrian and Hindu Paradises ; but the Koran 
generally shews little mark of Persian influence, and Muhammad 
never himself travelled in Persia. 

There was yet another religious system existing at this time, 
and destined to affect profoundly the philosophy of Islam. When 
the Chinese monk, Iluien Tsiang, set out for India, in 630 A.D., 
he found the Buddhists powerful in both Eastern and Western 
Turkestan, as well as over all northern India. The Buddhist 
missionaries seem to have reached Persia yet earlier, for in the 
Fravardin Yast (i., 16) the pious Zoroastrian is warned against 
' Gaoteraa the Heretic,' whose disciples had penetrated to the 

Modem Moslems. 347 

western part of Iran as early (according to Darmesteter) as the 
2nd century, a.d. In the Koran itself we do not however find 
any indication of Buddhist influence. 

The Suras when arranged in their historical order witness the 
growth of Muhammad's teaching, coinciding with the increase of 
his power. His earliest verses (including the Fathah) were 
admired by the Meccans for their poetic vigour, and contained no 
definite expression of belief. Muhammad had long been known 
among the Meccans as an upright man, a prosperous trader, and 
an Arab of good birth, who observed the annual fast, and the 
rites of the Pagan Kaaba. He bade them be thankful for their 
caravan trade, but to remember the judgment to come on those 
who love the goods of the world (Suras, c. and cvi.) He recalled 
the defeat of the Abyssinians in the year of his own birth (cv.) 
and the judgment on tribes that had rejected former teachers 
(lxxxix). He exhorted to charity (xc.) and depicted in vivid 
imagery the terrors of Hell. Gradually — or perhaps suddenly 
after his retreat to the Cave of Hira in his fortieth vear — the 
idea of a mission to destroy idolatry came upon him ; and the 
descriptions of Judgment and Resurrection are mingled with the 
denunciation of the infanticide which was then an Arab sacred 
rite (lxxxi). Down to the time of Khadijah's death, before the 
Hejirah or ' flight,' the character of the Suras remains little 
changed, though they gradually increase in length. The 
denunciation of paganism became bolder ; and the admiration of 
of the Koreish was changed to bitter hatred, while the faithful 
few increased in numbers and in 'devotion. The unity of God is 
upheld (xxxix.) and many illustrations are borrowed from Arab 
tradition. The Kor&n is announced to be only a conflrmation of 
ancient messages to man, given in the Arab tongue (XLI.), and 
Jewish stories of Noah, David, and others appear (liv., xxxiv.), 
some of which passages are the most poetic in the Suras. But 
contemporary events also are noticed, such as the defeat of the 
Greeks by the Persians (xxx.), and the maritime trade of Arabia 

Muhammad's enemies denounced him as a madman, a sooth- 
sayer, a mere poet, or an impostor (lii.), but he continued to 
preach against the established idolatry. He found confirmation 

31 M Aloderti Moslems. 

of his misstion in Jewish belief — founded on the words of Haggai 
(ii., 8), identifying himself with the expected Hemdah or 
^ (li*siriM)f nations * (Sura, wvi.); and he remained firm in his 
trust that, though then called a liar, he would in the end be 
received as a messenger of God. But the Meccans asked each 
other, ' Shall we leave our gods for a mad poet * (xxxvii.) 
^[uhamniad himself never questioned the existence of jinna and 
spirits, or the duty of pilj^rimajre to Mecca. He aimed only at 
reforming the degraded morals of his fellow countrymen, and at 
restraining their cruelty. As a man who had travelled and 
observed the manners of more civilised peoples he was far above 
the comprehension of those to whom the outer world was un- 

In the two years preceding the Hejirah the most important of 
the Suras were composed. These include the stdries borrowed 
from Jewish and Christian tradition, with the more vivid desciip* 
tions of Heaven and Ilell, Resurrection and Judgment. But 
Mulianimad still speaks only as a * warner/ repeating ancient 
teachings, and as a mortal man (xviii.), though inspired by QoA 
(xLii). The Meccans called his teaching of humanity and 
humility ' old wives' tales,' (xxxviii.), and spoke of Allah as a 
'new god/ (xxv.); they demanded a sign, and Muhammad 
answered that the Suras were themselves signs of his inspiration 
(xi). The older term, Hani/, or ' enquirer,' now changes to that 
of Muslim, ^ or obedient one,' (vi.), and the Kor&n is described as 
the fulfilment of that teaching which Jews and Christians had 
perverted by iiuman additions. The inculcation of justice, mercy^ 
and morality became more detailed, and the exhortation not to 
let wealth and children distract their possessor from the service 
of God (lxiv.) The rich are reproved for their treatment of 
slaves (XVI.), and Muhammad denies that he has either been 
helped by others to compose the Suras, or that he is himself able 
to read books (xxix). 

The last twenty Suras were published at Medinah, after the 
flight from Mecca. In these the denunciation of Christians and 
•lews takes the place of the earlier denunciations of the Koreish 
idolaters. The verses now refer to Moslem victories, and include 
regulations for the guidance of the Moslem armies. The worst 

Modem Moslems. 349 

foes of the faithful are said to be the Jews, and those nearest to 
Moslems in belief the Christians (y.) Wine and gambling are 
forbidden, and superstitions customs. The triumph of Islam is 
foreseen, and the union of all Arabia, which crowned the 
Prophet's great struggle, in the last years of his life. If there 
is nothing new in the Koran, beyond the rejection of Christian 
teaching concerning Christ, there is at least nothing in its 
morality that is unacceptable. The destruction of Paganism 
was effected by the courage and patience of one man, and the 
teaching of Muhammad would generally now be regarded as 
superior to the superstitions of the decaying Church of Byzan- 
tium, though in many particulars the Prophet never entirely 
escaped from the influence of early habit and education. He 
never conceived a condition of society in which there should be 
no slaves, in which men should have but one wife, in which 
women should be educated, free, and equal with their husbands, 
and in which pilgrimage, sacrifice, and the rites of the Kaabah, 
should cease. If his earlier descriptions of Paradise are tinged 
with sensual or sensuous colouring, those of later years are much 
less so coloured. In one of the latest Meccan Suras (xiii. 
23-24) Heaven is thus described : — 

' Unto which they shall enter, together with the just among their fathers, 
and their wives, and their offspring. And the angels shall come to tbem 
at all the gates, saying ^' Peace be upon you, because ye have endured all 

things." ' 

Immediately after Muhammad's death followed the Conquest 
of Persia and of Syria; and the wild Arabs came under the influ- 
ence of ancient civilisation. The struggle between the partizans 
of Ali, and the Khalifs accepted in Arabia and in the West, was 
political rather than religious in its character ; but the beliefs of 
the Persian Moslems, who adhered to the unfortunate children 
of — the grandsons of the Prophet, Hasan and Hosein — were 
coloured by the survival of the ancient Zoroastrian creed, which 
had so recently been abolished ; and many of their tenets are 
clearly founded on this influence. The legendary mountain KS,f, 
which surrounds the world beyond the ocean, was the Persian 
Sacred Mountain ; the Imams, or reincarnations of deity, recall 
the Persian reincarnations of the Divine Spirit in historical or 

350 Modern Monleifu. 

legendary heroes. The eschatologj' of Islam resembleSi in moBt 
of its details, that to be found in the Pehlevi Scriptures, which 
describe the creation and the end of the world ; and these teach- 
ings in turn were based on the older Assyrian mytholog}\ The 
annual mourning for Hasan and Ilosein, which distinguishes the 
Skiah or Persian ' Schismatics' of our own time from the masses 
of Islam who are Sunnees, is but a survival of the old Baby- 
lonian mourning for Tanrniuz, which was so long preserved in 
Chaldea among heretical Christians. 

Hut the educated Arabs of the ninth century, during the days 
of tlie great Abbaside Khalifs, came under very different influ- 
ences. They became acquainted with the philosophy of Plata 
and Aristotle, which at one time threatened entirely to over- 
throvv Moslem belief , and with arts and sciences unknown in 
Arabia. The secret sects which became numerous were often at 
heart sceptical, though to the lower initiates they appeared to 
teach mystery, and to claim inspiration. The dervish candidate 
believes that his chief can impart the power of performing 
miracles, but the chiefs themselves regard the order as a political 
rather than a religious power. The founder of the famous order 
of assassins {Ilaahshdshin or ^ hemp smokers ') was a close friend 
of Omar Khiyam, the famous sceptical poet. £1 Ghazzali, the 
last of the Moslem philosophers, was only saved from scepticism 
by taking refuge in the mysticism of the Sufis. 

The Sufis or * Sophists,' though taking their name from the 
Greek, were Moslems under Buddhist influence. The termino- 
logy of their teaching, no less than its general result, is evidence 
of this connection. Religions, the Sufi holds, are matters of in- 
diiFcrence, and the final aim is absorption into deity. So also 
the Buddhists (rather than the Buddha) taught. The perfect 
man seeks good words, good deeds, good principles, and know- 
ledge. This is the Buddhist ' path.' The Pantheism of the 
Sufi is the Pantheism of the Hindu ; and like the Buddhist the 
Sufi believes that the things of this world are ' illusion.' One 
of the most beautiful of Sufi parables runs thus : — 

' One knocked at the door of the Beloved, and a voice from within 
asked, " Who is there i " Then he answered, ** It is I." And the voice 
said, *' This house may not hold Me and thee." So the door was shut. 

Modem Moslems. 351 

Then the lover sped to the desert, and fasted and prayed alone. And after 
a year he came again and knocked at the door, and the voice again asked, 
*' Who is there ] " And the lover said, ** It is Thou," and the door was 

When Islam spread to India the poetry and the philosophy of 
the Hindu reacted on his conqueror, as Barth has observed {Reli- 
gions of India, p. 289), in a remarkable manner. The supersti- 
tions of Indian Moslems are indigenous, and the mixture of the 
two creeds finds its fullest expression in the religion of the Sikhs, 
and in the Granth. When Islam spread among the tribes of 
Turkestan, and in Mongolia, where Animism, Buddhism, and 
Christianity, were struggling for mastery, it was equally modified 
by other beliefs, and by racial characteristics. The Tartars were 
wild and warlike, delighting in the chase, in the wild legends of 
the desert, and in wine and song. The stern morality of 
Muhammad had little influence on their customs, and the profes- 
sion of the new faith was but a superficial formalism. In Persia, 
the new subjects of the Khalif were mainly Aryans and Turks. 
An ancient civilization, superior to any in Arabia, held its ground 
against the conqueror. The Persian also delighted in wine, and 
in poetry. The life of the dwellers in the fresh mountain climate 
was joyous and indolent. The legends of Rustem and Isfendiar, 
which some of the Meccans even had preferred to the Suras of 
Muhammad, continued to form the national literature, which 
Ferdausi collected in his epic — the Shah Nameh — towards the 
close of the tenth century, in the great age of the Abbaside 
Khalifs. All these types of Moslem society differed entirely from 
the manners of Muhammad or of Omar, as their beliefs also dif- 
f erred from the orthodoxy of Arabia. 

In the 13th century, the Turkish Sultans of Iconium, though 
professing Islam, were so broadly philosophical in their views, that 
the Popes long hoped to convert them to Christian teaching. 
We possess in the travels of Sir Bertrandon de la Brocqui^re — the 
bold Burgundian knight who journeyed, in 1432 A.D., across Asia 
Minor and through Turkey — an interesting account of Turkish 
manners, twenty years before the capture of Constantinople^ 
which shews us that the Osmanlis of the 15th century were much 
like those of our own times, and very unlike the true Moslem as 

352 Modem Moslems, 

intended by Mahammad. They accepted Islam only in as far as 
its dogmas agreed with their own racial customs and character. 

Sir Bertrandon describes the Turkish Sultan of Iconium, and 
the government of the Turks in Asia. The family of Murad II. 
was no longer purely Turkish in blood. Greek, Georgian, and 
Armenian wives, who were Christians, had already borne heirs to 
the Osmanli. The knight asserts that the ruler of Iconium, and 
his son, had been ^ baptised in the Greek manner to take off the 
bad smell, and I was told that the son's mother was a Christian. 
It is thus that all the grandees get themselves baptised, that they 
may not stink.' It is remarkable that this belief, which dates 
back to the twelfth century, still survives in Syria, where the 
Christians now say that Moslems have a naturally evil odour, 
which disappears when they are baptised. 

Muhammad forbade the faithful to retaliate for injury done, 
and denounced cruelty and injustice; but of this Sultan of 
Iconium we read in the foregoing account : * He is well obeyed 
by his subjects, although I have heard people say he was very 
cruel, and that few days passed without some noses, feet, or 
hands being cut off, or some one put to death. Should a man be 
rich, he condemns him to die, that he may seize his fortune ; and 
it is said that the greater part of his nobles have thus perished. 
Eight days before my arrival he had caused one to be torn to 
pieces by dogs. Two days after this execution he caused one of 
his wives to be put to death, even the mother of his eldest son, 
who, when I saw him, knew nothing of the murder. The inhabi- 
tants of the country are a bad race — thieves, cheats, and great 
assassins — they kill each other ; and justice is so relaxed, that 
they are never arrested for it.' This is by no means the account 
of a prejudiced witness, for the same writer testifies to the 
honesty and kindness of other Moslems who befriended him. In 
Europe, though Constantinople still held out, Turkey, Bosnia, 
Servia, Bulgaria, Hungary and other provinces were already sub- 
ject to the * Grand Turk,' Murad II., whom Sir Bertrandon saw at 
Adrianople. His vices were those which still disgrace Orientals, 
and when reproved by a Moor for his constant drunkenness, be- 
cause * wine was forbidden by the Prophet, and those who drank 
it were not good Saracens,' the Sultan imprisoned and ban?shed 

Modem Moslems. 353 

his courageous mentor. Islam, which reached the zenith of its 
power and civilization under the Arab Khaliifs of Damascus and 
Baghdad, had already begun to decay before the Crusades, after 
the Seljuk Conquest ; and after the Mongol invasion of Western 
Asia, the increasing power of the Osmanlis yet further dia- 
couracred the advance of Arab culture. The most that can be 
said of the early Sultans, and of their courtiers, is that they were 
distinguished for the same courtesy of manner, and royal munifi- 
cence, which still distinguish the Turks. The justice, m^rcy 
and sobriety inculcated by Muhammad, have never been common 
among them. 

Such being the brief outline of the well known history of 
Moslem religion and civilization, we may enquire more fully into 
the standards of belief and action observable' among Moslems of 
the present day, in Persia, Syria, Egypt, and Turkey; dis- 
tinguishing the various social grades, from the nomad Arab and 
agricultural peasant to the merchant, the religious, and the 
political classes. Good, bad and indifferent are to be found 
among all, but the standard of conduct is rarely high, and very 
rarely in accord with the true teaching of the Kor&n. 

In Persia, the population is mainly Aryan — ^Iranian — with 

some infusion of Armenians, Jews, Turks and Arabs ; and just 

as the Persian language has been infused with many Arab words, 

while retaining its own grammar and vocabulary derived from 

the ancient speech, so Islam has been engrafted on a people who 

have never quite forgotten their ancient national beliefs, and who 

have refused to abandon their earlier customs. Among Persians, 

of the middle class there are many devout Moslems, though their 

beliefs are not those of the majority in Islam. The upper class 

is often openly infidel ; and infidel literatui^B^-especially poetry 

— circulates unchecked, while European education (of French 

origin especially) is diffused among the higher officials. The 

dervishes are disliked and despised, though treated with respect 

in public. The Mullahs or Mosque scholars are reported to be 

hypocritical ; and are veiy often sceptics at hj&sat. The cruelties 

perpetrated in the name of justice are often barbarous in the 

extreme. The Jews are persecuted. The dirty and drunken 

Armenians of the North are only protected by European influ- 
XXIII. 23 

354 Modern AfosletM. 

ence. The Persians are a pleasure loving people, and the 
morality of the towns is bad. Intrigaes are common among 
married women, and secret poisoning is the resolL Gambling 
and card-playing, though discountenanced by the respectable 
classes, are as conmion as drinking, and even Mullahs drink wine 
when it can be secretly obtained. The persecution of the Babi's 
was perhaps mainly due to their attempt on the life of the Shah^ 
but even descendants of the Prophet were put to death and their 
property seized when they were known to be followers of the B&b. 
On the other hand, no punishment falls on such as profess 
philosophic scepticism, and the turban is often discarded by 
Persian Moslems in favour of the older national head-dress, with- 
out reproof. Superstitions are rife among the lower classes, bands 
and charms and amulets are worn to ward off the evil eye. 
Spells are sold against disease, and auguries are taken at the 
Tomb of Hafiz by the same people who strictly observe the 
great feast of Ramadan, and who mourn the death of Hosein. 

Arabia alone has produced a sect aiming at the reformation of 
Islam, and at a return to the strict teaching of the Kor&n, but the 
yoke of the Wahhabis was too heavy to be borne by Moslems. 
Muhammad Ibn 'Abd el Wahhab was born in theNejed in 1691, 
A.D., and brought up in the tenets of the Hanbali sect. His disgust 
with contemporary teachings and beliefs led him to discard all that 
was not found in the Koran, and in the traditions of the com- 
panions of the Prophet. He denounced the worship of Weli's, 
Pir's, and other Moslem Saints, the belief in omens, auguries, 
and charms, the drinking of wine and the smoking of tobacco, the 
wearing of silks and satins, the use of opium. He was a Moslem 
Protestant whose idea was the simplicity of the original faith, and 
the Islam of the days of Omar. The conquests of his son, 'Abd 
el ' Aziz, extended over the whole of Arabia, and his grandson, 
Saud, marched to Kerbela (the sacred city of Persia), where a 
general massacre of the unorthodox took place. In 1808, Saud 
entered Mecca, and made a holocaust of pipes, amulets, and 
rosaries, silks and satins. The Moslems were driven with whips to 
the Mosques, and at Medinah even Muhammad's tomb was 
spoiled. But ten years later Muhammad Ali defeated the 
Wahhabis, and Abdallah, son of Saud, was executed at Gonstan- 

Modem Moslems. 355 

tinople in 1818. Thus, through political exigences, the Turks 
stamped out the only serious effort ever made to reform Islam in 
accordance with the Koran. The Wahhfi,bis remained powerful 
in Eastern Arabia, and in 1822 they attempted to unite Northern 
India and Central Asia under the teaching of the Sirat el 
Mustakim^ or * right way/ but were defeated and dispersed by the 
English forty years later. They are now a decaying sect in the 
Nejed and Shammar regions ; and the western regions of Sjrria, 
Turkey, and Egypt, never came under the influence of these 
austere followers of the original orthodoxy of Islam. 

If we turn to Africa, we no doubt find in Cairo a very famous 
Moslem College at the Azhar Mosque, and a people outwardly 
orthodox Moslems of the Maleki sect ; but the superstitions of the 
peasantry trace back to the old Egyptian religion, and their 
women still visit the temple of Athor at Denderah, while the upper 
classes are so permeated by western civilisation that real Moslem 
belief is confined to the religious classes connected with the 
Mosques. In the wilder regions of the Soudan and the Congo 
Islam is deeply impregnated with African Paganism, and the rites 
of the Saddkah, which respectable Moslem merchants perform 
when entering wild regions, have little connection with Moslem 
teaching. The movement led by the Mahdi had its origin in dis- 
content under oppression, and its aim was the preservation of the 
slave trade. No doubt fanaticism was excited among those who 
expected the Nile to divide its waters before them, and who 
charged the English when they thought themselves made 
invulnerable by the scraps of the Koran rolled up in their leather 
charms; but it was a fanaticism of the most ignorant and 
superstitious character, and the aims of the leaders were temporal 
rather than religious. 

In Turkey again, the profession of Islam — after the Hanifeh or 
or Hiffh Church School — does not affect the manners of either 
the highest or the lowest classes. A half Armenian Sultan, under 
the influence of the dervishes who surround him, has attempted 
to enforce strict observance of the hours of prayer. Among the 
sturdy peasantry whose honesty contrasts with the greed of 
Armenians and the craft of the Greeks, the ancient superstitious 
of their Tartar ancestors still survive ; among the courtiers and 

356 Modern Moslems. 

soldiers there are no doabt sincerely religions and honest men, but 
the majority openly discard their creed and prefer a scepticism 
borrowed from the West, which excuses them in their own eyes for 
breaking the Moslem law, in drinking wine, in gambling, and in 
yet more pernicious vices. 

It is perhaps in Syria that Modem Islam may best be studied 
in all its phases in a country which ranks next after the Hejaz 
as a Sacred Land of the Moslems, where the population is mainly 
Arab — or at least Semitic — and where the first great Khalifs 
established their sway at Damascus in the early days of ever 
growing conquest. In the Syrian deserts still are found pure 
Arab tribes who come from the Nejed or the Hejaz, and who 
preserve the manners of the nomadic Arabs whose submission 
was won with such difficulty by the Prophet. His own early 
followers were merchants, townsmen, and Koreish of noble birth, 
but among the nomads who swelled the hosts of Omar, Islam 
was but skin deep, and the ancient superstitions were never 
rooted out. They remain the real belief of the Bedouin even to 
the present day. 

Among these nomads hardly more than one or two in a tribe 
can read or write or are ever seen to pray. There are no der- 
vishes among them, the call to prayer never rises in the desert, 
there is no fanatical feeling, and there is no knowledge of Moslem 
teaching. The tribesmen fear the jinns and ghouls who are sup- 
posed to haunt dolmens, and caves ; they venerate sacred foot- 
prints ; they visit the tombs of ancestors or of legendary saints. 
They leave small offerings at such tombs, or pile up stones to 
record a visit ; they invoke the dead and the neby or * prophet ; ' 
they tie rags to sacred trees ; they celebrate the yearly feast 
when the Haj reac|ies Mecca; and conduct the pilgrims for a 
stated tribute ; but their belief is an animism older than history 
itself ; and they delight — not in the Suras of the Kor&n — but 
in the wild fairy tales of Zir and Antar, which the old men relate 
and hand down with ever increasing marvellous details. It is 
vain to seek for Islam among the Bedouin. 

The Fellahin or ploughmen in the settled regions are equally 
ignorant and superstitious. They live surrounded by miracles 
of daily occurrence, and they preserve superstitions which trace 


Modem Moslems. 357 

back to Canaanite times. The sacred mountain, the sacred tree, 
and the sacred spring, are the emblems of the peasant creed. 
Their worship is that of the Mukdm or * standing place * of some 
saint or prophet, whose power is local and limited, but whose 
wrath is none the less dreaded. Some of these shrines are ancient 
Christian chapels of St. George, St. Paul, St. Matthew, or some 
other Christian Saint, mentioned as existing (in Pilgrim diaries) 
in the 12th or even in the seventh century of our era. Such 
shrines Muhammad is recorded to have condemned in his dying 
words when denouncing Abyssinian Christians to his wives : — 

* ** These truly," he said, "are a people who, when a good man has 
lived among them, build over his tomb a place of worship, and they adorn 
it with their pictures. These, in the eyes of the Lord, are the worst part 
of His creation. The Lord destroy Jews and Christians. Let His anger 
be kindled against those who turn the tombs of their prophets into places 
of worship. O Lord, let not my tomb be worshipped. Let there not 
remain any faith but that of Islam throughout Arabia." ' 

Islam triumphed more widely than Muhammad foresaw, yet his 
tomb has become one of the most sacred sites where Moslems 
worship, and the cultus of the Makams is spread from Central 
Asia to Morocco wherever Islam prevails. 

Mingled with such beliefs are the superstitions common to the 
ignorant throughout the world. The Fellahin live in fear of 
ghosts, ghouls, spirits, jinns, goblins and fairies. They all wear 
amulets against the evil eye — scraps of writing in leather cases ; 
they hang eggs and blue beads on their house walls, and offer 
bread and coins at their sacred springs. They believe in trans- 
migration, in sacred fishes at Acre and Tripoli which left their 
ponds to fight for the Sultan against the Russians ; in dervishes 
transformed to falcons flying to the battle, and in every species 
of augury and magic. Many birds are sacred among them, such 
as the dove, the owl, the hoopoo and the lark, and many beasts 
— especially horses — are believed to be able to predict the future 
by their actions. It was against such superstition that the 
Wahhabi's protested, as Muhammad himself protested against a 
more cruel idolatry. But the peasantry are pagans still. There 
are no mosques in the villages, and many do not even know the 
Fathah. Orthodox religion is regarded as the religion of the 

358 Modem Moslems. 

well born. Mosques and devout congregations are found only 
in cities and towns. The legends of the Kor^n are indeed local- 
ised in such sites as *the Valley of Ants/ *the City of the 
Grove,* * the place where Neby Saleh's camel was killed/ — refer- 
ring to stories in the Koran quite unconnected with Syria. But 
the peasantry as a rule do not know the legend to which such 
names refer. Even in the Haram at Jerusalem superstitious 
customs survived down to 1881 (when they were abolished) in 
the squeezing between the pillars of EI Aksa, and in the sacred 
stone to touch which blindfold secured an entry into Paradise. 

Among such peasants the dervishes have great power, being 
regarded as ^ men of God,' able to work miracles and to foretell 
the future. They are of various orders, founded in the thirteenth 
and in subsequent centuries, and distinguished by the colour of 
their turbans and banners — such as the Bedawiyeh from Egypt, 
the Bif&iyeh who charm serpents, the Kadriyeh, and the dancing 
Moulawiyeh, but it is only the lower initiates who are familiarly 
known to the Fellahin. A good dervish is instructed to be 
obedient, chaste, poor, and pious, to restrain his temper and his 
passions, never to hurt anything that has life, and not to delight 
in war. Some strive to observe such teaching, but many are 
hypocrites and immoral, and some are fanatics, fully believing in 
their supernatural powers, or madmen who live in a world of 
dreams. Their snakes are usually not venemous, but some have 
died from handling snakes whose bite is mortal. Among the 
most respectable are the dancers, who celebrate their strange and 
ancient rite in their monastery near Tripoli. The howling 
dervishes, who work themselves into a cateleptic condition by the 
senseless repetition of the syllable Hu^ in their well-known meet- 
ings, are among the most fanatical. 

The leaders of these orders may be respectable merchants — 
often married men, for dervishes are not bound to celibacy — or 
mullahs from the mosque, or men of high birth. They may be 
orthodox Moslems, or secret sceptics, philosophers or hypocrites, 
or Sufis devoted to their mystic contemplation, and discarding all 
religions as vain. It depends on the individual character and be- 
lief of the man who attains to such a position, and he is by no 
means of necessity debarred from following a secular calling be- 

Modem Moslems. 359 

cause he is a dervish leader. The power of the orders is very great, 
and very Httle appreciated in the West ; for on the one hand the 
dervish influences the policy even of the Sultan, and is respected 
by the Turkish Governor, and on the other he holds the peasantry 
in his power, through his supposed miraculous knowledge. Yet 
the dervish system is not a product of Islam, but rather derived 
from Bactria, Persia, and India ; and such pretenders were de- 
nounced by Muhammad as Kahins or * diviners.' The dervish, 
wandering among the villages, preceded by music and bearing his 
banner, comes into contact with the people much more closely 
than the orthodox scholar, who lives in a city and frequents the 
mosque. But it is superstition and not religion that he maintains. 
He is often a reader or reciter of the Kor&n, but his power lies in 
his supposed miracles, of which endless stories are related. 

The ignorance and immorality of the peasantry exceeds that of 
most European countries. They cannot read or write, they know 
nothing beyond the rude agriculture, which has remained un- 
changed for thousands of years, or the rearing of flocks and herds, 
sheep, goats, cows, donkeys and camels. They are for the most 
part inoffensive, the old turbulent spirit having been utterly 
broken by Turkish oppression ; and their virtues are mainly ob- 
servable in kindness to children, reverence for age, a dignity of 
manner peculiar to the East, and a very strong sense of mutual 
help and of the sanctity of trust. On the other hand they are 
dirty, foul-mouthed, and sometimes obscene. Their language is 
a continual curse, and they are never ashamed to be found out 
when they lie. Some, no doubt, are much worse than others, and 
some are honest and devout. Oriental custom imposes great 
modesty of bearing on the women, but the immorality of the 
wives is notorious. The lepers are often go-betweens in such 
intrigues ; and the punishment of the false wife is savage — she is 
usually thrown into a pit or well, or secretly poisoned. The dis- 
putes of wives living in one bouse are continual, but polygamy is 
comparatively rare among the peasantry, because a man cannot 
often afford to keep more than one wife. Although the Moslem 
is charitable to the poor, any idea of instructing them or of im- 
proving their condition is unthought of, and the misery of the 
oppressed and neglected Fellahin is increased by the conscription 

'■vav ■■■i ^ i ■ ■- ■■ ■ ^i J u i <i fi 

'M\{) Modern MosUtfis. 

which tears away the young men from their homes to aerve in 
distant parts of the Turkish Empire. The life of the soldiers is 
wretched, tliey arc unpaid and cheated, and fortunate if they are 
able to find tlunr way home at length at their own expense. The 
brutal immorality and degradation of their garrison life robs the 
army of a large proportion of its recruits. They are often 
obliged to live by their own industry, to make fires by burning 
the woodwork of their barracks, and to obtain some small propor- 
tion of their pay by mutiny. Yet such armies have fought with 
obstinate courage for Islam against the Christian, and they main- 
tain the power of the Sultan over many alien races. 

Kven among the peasantry the great feast of Ramadan — 
which was an Arab practice long before Muhammad — ^is very 
generally and very rigorously observed, but orthodox belief is 
for tlie most part confined to the middle class — ^that of respect- 
able merchants and mechanics, and to the native gentry and 
Mosque families, of whom the European rarely sees much. 
Men who trace their descent from the noble Arabs of Omar's 
time, and who are proud to remember how their ancestors 
conquered not only Syria, but half Asia and all North Africa, 
are often scrupulous in their religious observances, and versed 
in the Kor&n and in the teachings of the great Moslem doctors. 
They accept their religion without doubt or enquiry, and are 
seen daily at the Mosque, and learn the Koran from childhood, 
yet even in this class there are unbelievers and sceptics, and 
men who secretly break the laws of their creed. The Kadis 
are notoriously corrupt, and generally receive bribes for their 
judgments ; and wine is often drunk by those who are most 
outwardly pious. Hypocrites are not less numerous in the 
East than in the West, and honest scepticism is perhaps not 
less common. The Mullahs, on the other hand — especially at 
the Sanctuaries of Hebron, Jerusalem and Damascus, Acre and 
Tripoli — are sometimes really fanatical, and look forward to 
tlie coming of the true Mahdi and the destruction of the 
infidel ; but the proportion of religions enthusiasts to moderate 
men, and to men of politics and of the world, is perhaps not 
greater among Moslems than in Europe. There is as much 
immorality, though less openly to be observed. For when we 

Modem Moslems. 361 

consider that a city like Cairo has its quarter for licensed public 
women; that unveiled prostitutes may be seen walking the 
streets of Damascus by day who are by profession Muslimahs ; 
and that the dancing women and Almehs are allowed to per- 
form at festivals given by young Moslems of good position and 
family, we cannot regard the professors of Islam as superior 
in their conduct to the Westerns. The intrigues of the harim 
and the vices of the rich are more brutal perhaps than any 
known in the West. The education of the upper classes is far 
inferior, and slavery, though publicly denied to exist, is well 
known to be still customary in all Moslem countries. The 
slave markets of Damascus and of Jerusalem are hidden in 
comers behind the Mosques, and are known to few Europeans ; 
but white women as well as negroes and negresses may here be 
seen awaiting sale, by anyone who has the means of penetrating 
into these secret markets. 

The European rarely sees the best of Moslem society. He 
easily makes acquaintance with the official class — the man who 
has learned in Paris or in Constantinople to despise his religion 
and to ape the manners of the West — but he is as a rule 
debarred from entering the select circle of true Moslems of 
good birth and education, and he knows nothing of their 
estimate of civilisation. The Prophet warned his followers not 
to make friendships with Christians, and the manners of the 
tourist class are often repulsive to the Moslem gentleman. 
Those who have won admittance into such circles are charmed 
with the dignity, the courtesy, and the simplicity of the 
eastern manner, with the beauty of the ancient (and often half- 
ruinoiTfi) houses where poor proud gentlemen hide from the 
world, with the unaffected piety and sobriety of life which 
distinguishes the best, with the taste and absolute cleanliness 
of dress and person, with the modesty of family life, and the 
respect for age and rank. But such life and manners distin- 
guish the few, and belong to a class of men who, however 
respected, have little influence on either the peasantry or the 
ruling class. Even among these the most absurd superstitions 
are common, and education does not often go further than 
reading, writing and arithmetic. 

'M\'2 Mtulern Mo9U*m*. 

The ofHcial claRs is for the most part not Arab at all. The 
Panhas are sometimes pure Turks, distinguished for their good 
breeding and force of character : mostly they are of mixed 
race, their mothers being Georgians, Armenians, Greeks, 
Europeans, or slaves of various lower races. It is unnecessary 
to say that the majority of these are unscnipulous and cormpt 
men, utterly irreligious, and a curse to their country. It 
is only the strong and increasing iiiHuence of Western civiliaa- 
tion which at all holds in check a class which, as a whole, is 
cruel, greedy, and utterly selfish. 

These are the facts of modern Moslem social life, well known 
to all who have lived for any length of time in Moslem 
countries. Tlie attempt to represent Moslems as more truly 
actual e<l by respect for tlioir religion than are Christians in 
civilized countries, or as being in any respect superior to 
Kuropeans, seems to those who are familiar with actual con- 
ditions to be due, either to imperfect knowledge, or to the 
<*uriou8 perversity which depreciates one's own countrymen and 
extols the less known foreigner. We nmst measure religious 
standards by comparison of sacred books, and in such com- 
parison few would prefer tlie Koran to the Gospel. We must 
measure actual performance by comparison of the social 
progress of nations, and few would argue that such progress 
has been more remarkable in ^Moslem than in Christian lands. 

If we consider the particulars of justice, charity, truth, firee- 
<lom, morality, and human sympathy, we must surely conclude 
that the Moslem creed has not done much to raise the standard 
of societv in Asia or in Africa. The fascination of the East, 
and of the dissert, has been felt by many men of high culture 
and sensitive taste, but the darker side of the picture is re- 
vealed by more familiar acquaintance with Oriental life. 
Justice (which distinguished the great men of former times, 
Muhammad, Omar, Harun er Rashid, and Genghiz Khan) is 
for the most part unknown in the Turkish Empire. The 
peasantry are oppressed and ruined ; the Pashas are squeezed 
of their ill gotten gains ; the Kadis sell justice, and the rulers 
all take bribes. The baksheesh system is the great evil against 
which we still are striving in Egypt. As regards charity, the 


Modern Moslems. 363 

pious Moslem gives to the poor, and leaves doles for dogs and 
cats. He even has a cup cut in his tombstone, that thirsty 
birds may drink water on his grave. But where in the East 
do we find the organisation of effort to raise the condition of 
the masses, to educate and train and usefully employ the 
lowest class, which are found in almost every European 
country ? As regards truth, the European is perhaps often as 
deceitful and treacherous as the Oriental, but he is at least 
ashamed to be called a liar, and the Eastern is not. Respect- 
ing morality, the conversation of Pashas is such as would not 
be tolerated by costers in England, and the vices of the East 
are at least as black as those of the West. As respects free- 
dom, the condition of women is one main cause of the decay 
of Asiatic civilisation. They have indeed much more freedom 
than is commonly imagined, but their purposeless and idle 
lives are passed contentedly in a condition of utter ignorance, 
and their degradation reacts on their children. Slavery is 
recognised by the Koran as a natural condition, though rich 
men are exhorted to treat their slaves with kindness — as many 
Arab and Persian masters habitually do. The slavery of Asia 
is not merely domestic, for the ranks of eunuchs and servants 
are still constantly filled with negroes brought from Arabia. 
All the edicts published have had no practical result in chang- 
ing the ancient custom which the Moslem religion allows. 
Lastly, as concerns humane feelings, the standard of a religion 
which inculcates the Jihad, or war on infidels, as a duty, is 
not the standard of the Gospel. Islam is spread with the 
sword, and its last word is ' Testify or die.' If horror of war 
and of violence is taught by Sufis, it is not from Muhammad 
but from the Aryan Buddha, or from the Christian teachers of 
the Abbasside age, that this nobler teaching was derived. 

These pages have been suggested by reading recent papers 
in which Islam is extolled at the expense of European civilisa- 
tion, written by travellers who have not had any long or inti- 
mate acquaintance with Moslem countries : they may very 
probably have little influence on general opinion, but it may 
not the less be useful to direct attention to the actual condi- 
tion of Islam, and to the slight influence of their own creed on 

352 ^fo<Urn MosUnif, 

intended by Muhammad. They accepted Islam only in as far 
its dogmas agreed with their own racial customs and character. 

Sir Bertrandon descril)es the Turkish Sultan of Iconinm, and 
the government of the Turks in Asia. The family of Marad II. 
was no longer purely Turkish in blood. Greek, Georgian, and 
Armenian wives, who were Christians, had already borne heirs to 
the Osmanli. The knight asserts that the ruler of Iconium, and 
his son, had been ^ baptised in the Greek manner to take ofiF the 
bad smelly and I was told tiiat the son's mother was a Christian. 
It is thus that all the grandees get themselves baptised, that they 
mav not stink.* It is remarkable that this belief, which dates 
back to the twelfth century, still survives in Syria, where the 
Christians now say that Moslems have a naturally evil odonr, 
wliich disappears when they are baptised. 

Muhammad forbade the faithful to retaliate for injury done, 
and denounced cruelty and injustice; but of this Sultan of 
Iconium we read in the foregoing account : * He is well obeyed 
by his subjects, although I have heard people say he was very 
cruel, and that few days passed without some noses, feet, or 
hands being cut off, or some one put to death. Should a man be 
rich, he condemns him to die, that he may seize his fortune ; and 
it is said that the greater part of his nobles have thus perished. 
Eight days before my arrival he had caused one to be torn to 
pieces by dogs. Two days after this execution he caused one of 
his wives to be put to death, even the mother of his eldest son, 
who, when I saw him, knew nothing of the murder. The inhabi- 
tants of the country are a bad race — thieves, cheats, and great 
assassins — they kill each other ; and justice is so relaxed, that 
they are never arrested for it.' This is by no means the account 
of a prejudiced witness, for the same writer testifies to the 
honesty and kindness of other Moslems who befriended him. In 
Europe, though Constantinople still held out, Turkey, Bosnia, 
Servia, Bulgaria, Hungary and other provinces were already sub- 
ject to the ' Grand Turk,' Murad II., whom Sir Bertrandon saw at 
Adrianople. His vices were those which still disgrace Orientals, 
and when reproved by a Moor for his constant drunkenness, be- 
cause ' wine was forbidden by the Prophet, and those who drank 
it were not good Saracens,' the Sultan imprisoned and banished 

Scotland and the Unionist Cause, 365 

Unionists lost seats, but they enormously increased their votes. 
In several places that had been regarded as absolutely hopeless 
they came within measurable distance of a material, and achieved 
a moral victory. They proved that the solid phalanx of Scottish 
Gladstonianism had begun to crumble and drop away. 

It is therefore not unprofitable to briefly review the position in 
Scotland, and to gather up the indications of political movements 
that have been afforded since the polls closed in 1892. That 
election proved that Unionism was a growing and not a waning 
force north of the Tweed : it proved further that the committal 
of the Gladstonian party to the policy of Disestablishment, 
avowed in 1890, had not tended to increase its popularity. It 
showed a general growth of Unionist sentiment : it exhibited a 
remarkable development of resistance to later Gladstonian 
policy in the Lothians, and in certain other constituencies. But 
it left the impression that with harder work and greater hope a 
good deal more might have been done, and its varied results 
indicated that an overweening belief in ineradicable and impervious 
Gladstonianism had prevented the convictions of many on the 
Church question producing their full and proper effect. In spite 
of the formal pledging of the party in May, 1890, there remained 
in 1892 a reluctance to realize, and almost a disbelief on the part 
of many voters attached by old association to the Liberal party, 
that Mr. Gladstone really intended Disestablishment. The 
threatened Suspensory Bill has achieved one result, if nothing 
more, in the fact that it has dispelled this hallowed hallucination, 
and acted like the sting of an arrow to make the ostrich raise its 
head from the sand. It has put the defenders of the Church 
upon their mettle, and since its introduction — or rather the 
intimation of the impending introduction that never came — ^there 
has been carried out in many parts of Scotland an effective 
campaign, stimulating the interest of the Scottish people and 
in^^tructing them more fully than has ever hitherto been done, in 
the history of the Scottish church, and their own rights in its 
endowments and its national mission. 

Since the General Election the Scottish Conservatives have 
carefully revised the general scheme of their national organisa- 
tion. They have done so upon the principle of combining a 

3()t) Scotland and the Unionini Cauae. 

c()iii|Mict and manageable central authority, with practical local 
supervision of the details of organisation. It b easy to exaggerate 
the influence and effect of changes in central political 
organisations, for after all, the really important thing 
is the local organisation in the constituencies. At the 
sume time, the changes made at the Perth Conference of 
April, 181)3 — if properly worked, and upon that condition alone — 
constitute an important forward movement in the popular 
organisation of the Scottish Conservative party. It is interest- 
ing to recall the various steps by which the general party 
organisation has reached its present form, for they exhibit a con- 
tinuous advance, and a continually closer touch established with 
the mass of the electorate. The origin of a central organisation 
on popular lines was practically comtemporaneous with the ex- 
tension by the Conservative party of the franchise to the work- 
ing men. The Scottish National Constitutional Association, 
which was established as a permanent result of Mr. Disraeli's 
famous visit to Edinburgh in 1867, held its first annual meeting 
on 17th April, 1868. It consisted mainly of individual sub- 
scribers, though its rules contained provisions for any local 
association being declared to be in connection with the central 
association, and having the right to send two representatives to 
its general council, which met twice a year. It maintained a 
central office, and gave considerable assistance to the local agents 
and associations. In 1882 a further step was taken by the for- 
mation of the Scottish National Union, which was organised on 
a thoroughly popular basis. Its main feature was the prominence 
given to the representative element based upon the local associa- 
tions, and the institution of the large popular annual conferences 
similar to those of the National Union in England. Its execu- 
tive work was originally conducted by four honorary secretaries^ 
selected with special reference to their connection with different 
districts of the county, and the council was constituted on a 
system of direct election by the conference, and of limited co- 
optation. In 1885 an important advance was made in the im- 
provement and consolidation of the party machinery, by the 
amalgamation with the National Union of the older Scottish 
National Constitutional Association, in order to provide one well 

Scotland and the Unionist Cause, 367 

equipped central office, and secure more economical and efficient 
administration. The good eflFects of this were experienced in the 
very large amount of work transacted during the general election 
of 1885, and even more substantially, though less demonstra- 
tively, in the negotiations and arrangements with the Liberal- 
Unionist party in the fateful spring and summer of 1886. With 
the aid and upon the basis recommended by the Central Organiza- 
tion, the local organisation of the party throughout the country 
lias been by degrees completely revolutionized, and the ' Mr. 
Jones and his factor ' system superseded by one based upon the 
parish committees, in which Mr. Jones will retain the legitimate 
influences to which his personal activity and social position legiti- 
mately entitle him, but under which the cause of the party is 
placed in the hands of all the members of the party. The in- 
creasing vitality of the party in Scotland, and the growing in- 
terest shewn in its work, are illustrated by the facts, that while in 
1883 the National Union included 60 affiliated associations, and 
101 associates, and had an income (exclusive of life-members' 
commutations) of £191, and in 1886, after the consolidation, com- 
prehended 122 associations, 61 vice-presidents, and 333 associates, 
with an income of £640 ; in 1893 it included 356 associations, 
145 vice-presidents, and 501 associates, with an income of con- 
siderably over £2000. 

The increasing interest in its work had multiplied the meetings 
of its council, and led to their being held alternately in Edinburgh 
and Glasgow. In 1888, a small committee was appointed to 
meet in Glasgow, and specially supervise the western constitu- 
encies, which in the following year was enlarged, and in 1890 
a branch office was opened there and placed under its supervision. 
A large amount of active work was done by this committee, and 
to its exertions was largely due the substantial increase in the in- 
come of the Union of late years. It had long been recognized 
that an improvement in the constitution of the Central Council 
was desirable. One quarter of its members being elected by each 
conference, the vote was liable to result in an undue preponder- 
ance of persons being returned from the district where the annual 
conference happened to be held, and there had been one rather 
scandalous instance of a * ticket ' being run, according to the ap- 

368 Scotland and the Unionist Cause. 

proved methods of Yankee electioneering. It was desired to 
make the coancil more representative of all districts of the 
country, and also to extend the system of local committees, 
which had been found to work well in the western district. 
Further, while the comprehensive character of the national 
organization was shewn by the fact that in 1892 the central 
association of every Scottish county but one was affiliated to it, 
this affiliation was contingent on payment of a subscription, and 
might be broken at any moment. It was thought advisable, fol- 
lowing in this the example of England, that every constituency 
should, through its central association, be brought as a matter of 
right into direct relations with the central organisation, irrespec- 
tive of pecuniary conditions. 

These views were carried into effect by the new rules adopted 
at the special conference held at Perth in 1893, and the whole 
organisation of the Conservative party in Scotland has been 
developed on a symmetrical and definite plan. The organisation 
of the Scottish National Union now consists of the President, 
the Honorary Secretaries and the Honorary Treasurers, who are 
the officers of the whole Union, of the Central Council which 
takes a general supervision of the whole country and to which 
the divisional bodies are responsible, and of six Divisional Coun- 
cils or Committees, each entrusted with the special supervision 
of well-defined districts of the country, which are practically at 
once local Committees of the Central Organization and Joint- 
Committees of all the constituencies comprised within each divi- 
sion. The work of the whole is reported on to the Annupl 
Conference, consisting of the delegates from each constituency, 
and from every affiliated local association, and of the individual 
subscribers to the Union funds. The Central Council consists 
of a proportional number of representatives to the constituencies 
in each division who are nominated by the divisional bodies, with 
the addition of a certain number selected in proportion to the 
number of subscribers to the Union. The Divisional Councils 
or Committees consist of members directly elected by the 
central associations of the constituencies, with the addition of 
others selected in proportion to the subscribers in the division. 
The subscriptions of all affiliated associations are paid direct to 

Scotland and the Unionist Cause. 369 

the Central office. Where the income contributed by a division is 
large enough to support a useful branch office, the subscriptions 
from individuals are collected by the divisional body, which in 
that case is termed a Divisional Council, and, after remittance of 
a fixed proportion for Central expenses, applied by the Divisional 
Council for work within the division. Where the district cannot 
efficiently maintain and employ a local office and staff, the whole 
subscriptions are paid direct to the Central office, necessary 
local expenditure provided for from the Central funds, and the 
Divisional Committee assisted by the services of the Central 

This organisation thus secures a compact Central Council, the 
fullest local supervision and activity which practical conditions 
allow, and a system of representation which gives every district 
and constituency its fair share in the administration of central 
and divisional affairs. It is liable to two criticisms : First, that 
the system of double election by the constituency to the divi- 
sional body, and by the divisional body to the central council 
is cumbersome ; and second, that there was much to be said for 
retaining to some extent, while balancing it by local election, the 
system of direct election at the annual conference which was 
valued by many of the delegates from affiliated associations. 
There was much to be said for a simpler system by which each 
constituency should have returned one person to serve both on 
the central and divisional body. It would have placed the 
constituencies in even more direct relation with the headquarters, 
and it would have obviated several practical disadvantages that 
have since been felt. But it involved a Central Council of from 
72 to 100 persons meeting quarterly or half-yearly, and this was 
considered too ponderous a body for practical purposes. Yet the 
result of an amendment carried at the conference was to con- 
vert one Divisional body, which meets monthly, into as large and 
unwieldy an organism. The general scheme embodied a careful 
compromise of varying views, and having been adopted by the 
unanimous vote of a large and representative conference, has 
placed the organisation in Scotland on a permanent and popular 

If there is anything in a thoroughly representative and demo- 

XXIII. 24 

•>7U Scotland and the UnionUt Cause, 

cratic system of orgauisation, it is to be anticipated that a healthj 
spirit of generous rivalry in good works between the various 
divisions of the country, will give additional unpolse to the tide 
of Unionist success. Now that this system of local snpervisioD 
and responsibility has been developed, it is appropriate to review 
the general political history and condition, of each of the six 
districts of Scotland. The University seats may for present 
purposes be discarded. The Eastern District Division consists 
of the counties of Berwickshire, Roxburghshire, Peebles, and 
Selkirk, the three Lothians, West Fife, and Clackmannan and 
Kinross ; of the four divisions of the city of Edinburgh, and of 
tlie groups of the Border, the Lieitli, the Kirkcaldy, and the Stir- 
ling Burghs. It is now under the special supervision of the 
Eastern Divisional Council of the Union. The following were 
the votes recorded in the Division at the last three general 
elections: — In 1885, there were 20,199 Conservative votes to 
45,896 Gladstonian ; in 1886, 28,154 Unionist votes to 39,520; 
and in 1892, 4i,670 Unionist votes to 56,643 Gladstonian. Snt 
in 1885, West Fife, Clackmannan and Kinross, the Border and 
the Stirling Burghs were uncontested, while in East Edinburgh 
two Liberals stood against each other whose votes are not 
counted. For the South Division the figures of the bye-election 
of January 1886 have been taken, as in 1885 two Liberals stood 
there. In 1886 Mid-Lothian and West Fife were uncontested. 
If we take a possible Mid-Lothian vote in 1886, as the mean of 
the two votes of 1885 and 1892, and West Fife as recorded at the 
bye-election of 1889, (i.e., L.U., or votes on personal grounds 
for Mr. Wemyss, 2,758, and G.L., 5,215) the comparison between 
1886 and 1892 would be 35,113 Unionist, and 51,597 Gladstonian 
votes, to 41,670 and 56,643 respectively, thus showing a respec- 
tive increase of 6,557, as compared with 4,546 votes, being a 
much larger actual as well as a vast proportional increase. This 
loo gives to the Gladstonians the benefit of Mr. Erskine 
AVemyss's personal popularity in West Fife. The labour vote of 
438 in the Central Division of Edinburgh in 1892 has not been 
counted. The result in the sixteen seats was that while in 1886 
the Unionists held three, in 1892 they were left with two. But 
before 1886 ended West Edinburgh was lost by the recanta- 

Scotland and the Unionist Cause, 371 

tion of Mr. Buchanan, while since 1892 a seat has been gained 
by the victory in Linlithgowshire. The most remarkable feature 
of the comparison is the marvellous change that has come over 
tlie three Lothians between 1885 and 1892. In 1885 the 
Conservative vote, plus the Irish vote thrown against Mr. Glad- 
stone, though not for the Conservatives, was 6,699, and the 
Gladstonian, 15,153. In 1892 the Unionist vote was 10,119, 
the Gladstonian, 11,216. The process so substantially advanced 
has since been satisfactorily and significantly carried further, for 
at the bye-election for West Lothian, in June, 1893, Captain 
Hope in a fourth contest reaped the reward of his unflinching 
patriotism, and converted his steadily declining minorities into a 
majority of 169. In the opposite camp a similar development is 
believed to be anticipated both in East and Mid Lothian, and 
never had a political party more cause to enter on a struggle with 
iiope, to leave no stone unturned, and to work with unflagging 
enthusiasm, than the Unionist party has in these three con- 
stituencies to-day. Steady work should recover Roxburghshire, 
and then the influence of its neighbours should act forcibly upon 
Berwickshire, which has recently shewn that the steady reduc- 
tion of its Gladstonian majority continues to make substantial 
progress. More unlikely things have happened than that 
South Edinburgh should follow the lead of the West Division. 
More almost than in any part of Scotland the strength of 
Gladstonian Liberalism has in these constituencies been in the 
name and personal influence of Mr. Gladstone, and now that 
Achilles has retired to his tent in search of long deferred and 
well-worked for repose, his absence must materially accelerate a 
process which even the magic of his presence proved powerless 
to check. 

The Western District Division consists of the six divisions of 
Lanarkshire, East and West Renfrew, North and South Ayrshire, 
Buteshire, Argyleshire, Dumbartonshire, and Stirlingshire; of 
the seven divisions of Glasgow, Greenock, Paisley, and the 
groups of the Ayr, Kilmarnock and Falkirk Burghs. These 
constituencies all lie round, and are in convenient communication 
with Glasgow, and are now under the special supervision of the 
Western Divisional Council of the Union. The result of the 

372 Scotland and the Vniotiist Cause. 

polls at the last three general elections in this district showed 
that while the Conservatives, who W3re notoriously stronger in 
this district than in other parts of Scotland, and had the assist- 
ance of the large Irish vote of the industrial centres and regions 
nearest to Ireland, polled 91,981 in 1885, the Unionists, in spite 
of the Union of Hearts, polled 92,021 in 1886, and 105,427 in 
1892. The Gladstonians polled 110,913 votes in 1885, 89,616 
in 1886, and 112,194 in 1892. In these figures there have not 
been included the Labour votes in the Bridgeton and Camlachie 
divisions of Glasgow and the Falkirk Burghs in 1885, or in the 
Camlachie, College, and Tradeston divisions, and in Stirlingshire 
in 1892. These labour votes amounted in 1885 to 2,043, and in 
1892 to 2,577. Thi? western district thus gave an absolute 
majority of votes for the Union in 1886. While it has not 
continued to do this in 1892, the Gladstonians are only about 
1,000 votes better than they were in 1885, while the Unionists 
have improved upon the Conservative strength by 14,000 votes, 
without allowance for the transfer of the Irish vote. Out of the 
26 constituencies the Conservatives held 7, to 19 in possession of 
tlie Liberals in 1885 : in 1886 the Unionists had 16 and the 
Gladstonians 10, and in 1892 the Unionists retained 11, while 
the Gladstonians carried 15. Among those was the Ayr 
Burghs, which, lost by the Unionists in 1888, was recovered in 
1890, and lost again in 1892 by the very small majority of seven 
votes. There are three constituencies where the Gladstonian 
majority is under 100 votes, one more where it is under 200, and 
one other where it is under 300. These offer every incentive to 
vigorous attack, and the opportunity of repairing the losses of 
1892, and if the increase in voting power has not of late been so 
remarkable as in the eastern division, there are in the west not 
a few other constituencies which look at least as hopeful as the 
Lothiaus did some years back. 

The Tay District Division comprises East Fife, West and East 
Perthshires, Forfarshire, Dundee (two members), Perth City, and 
the Montrose and St. Andrews groups of Burghs. In this district 
in 1885, the Conservatives polled 17,350, and the Gladstonians 
35,889 votes, without counting the vote in the St. Andrews 
burghs, where two Liberals stood against each other. In 1886 

Scotland and the Unionist Cause. 373 

and 1892 all the seats were contested. In 1886 the Unionists 
had 19,677 votes, and the Gladstonians 26,010, and in 1892 their 
respective strengths were 23,645 and 29,822. The Labour vote 
of 907, in Perth city, has not been included. In 1885 there was 
not a single Conservative member ; in 1886 there were three 
Unionists, and in 1892 three, of whom one is a Conservative. 
Perth city has shewn a bright example of courage and energy, 
and it is to be hoped that the exertions of the Tay Divisional 
Committee will still further brighten the political colouring of 
their portion of the map of Scotland. 

The North- Eastern District-Division contains Kincardineshire, 
the two Aberdeenshires, East and West, Banffshire, Aberdeen city, 
North and South, and the Elgin District of Burghs, of which the 
most important town is Peterhead. In this division the Elgin 
Burghs were uncontested by the Conservatives in 1885, and in 
1892 no Unionist stood in Kincardineshire, the contest being 
between two Gladstonians who differed on the Church question. 
Placing thovse two constituencies against each other, we find that 
the total Conservative votes recorded in 1885 were 10,791, while 
the Gladstonians polled 28,736. In 1892 the Unionists polled 
12,258 (the contest in Banffshire not being a serious one) and the 
Gladstonians 20,7 72. The election of 1886 offers no useful data for 
comparison, as the only seats then fought were the two Aberdeen- 
shires and Banffshire. These three constituencies supply special 
food for reflection. No incident of the election of 1892 was 
more encouraging and more instructive than the moral victory in 
West Aberdeenshire, which only required a transfer of 41 to 
convert it into a material one. In 1885 the Conservatives had 
only polled 2,010 votes ; the successful Gladstonian had been re- 
turned by a vote of 4,248, while 1,530 votes had also been cast 
for a more extreme candidate. On the smaller poll of 1886, the 
position was substantially unchanged, the Conservative Unionist 
polling 1,657, and the Gladstonian 3,854 votes. But 1892 was 
a revelation. The 2,010 of 1885 had risen to 3,640; the 5,778 had 
dwindled to 3,720. The Gladstonians were thunderstruck ; it 
might have been said of the genial and popular sitting member, 
who had been ^saved as by fire,' that he was, if not 'speechless ' — 

.'>7I >''-ii//«riif/ it fid the I'monlitf Cauae. 

* (ihaatly, wan, 
I^ikv him i>f wlmm the atory ran, 
Who Baw thi* HiHictre hound in man.* 

No hotter example has ever been pven of the political virtne 
w'liich never allows itself to be discouraged by adverse circum- 
stances, and whieh reaps ultimate triumph, as the Aberdeenahire 
fanner pnuhices flourish int; cn>ps from an unkindly soil. Since 
Sir Alexander ( I onion changed his colours in 1879, no Conserva- 
ti\ (* or Unionist has sat for a constituency in this division. West 
AlK'rdeenshire sliowed an abnormal achievement. East Aberdeen- 
shire and HanfTshire are interesting, bei^ause they supply illustra- 
titiiis which agree together of normal Unionist progress, under 
circuin.stanccs of no very favourable nature, and it so happens 
that thcv afford additional rAi^r, for in both there has been a 
hve-eleetion since 1892. The followinj; Ja their record : — 

IKKa. ]88<>. 1892. Dec, 1892. 
Kiist Aboraoenshirc— Gladsttinian, ('»,r>01) 4,052 5,116 4,243 

CunsLTvutive or rnionist, .^,155 2,5« 3,492 2,917 

Majority, :i,354 2,408 1,624 1,326 

BanfTshiru.— r2IadBt«>niun, 3,770 2,583 2,293 3,165 

UiiioniBt, 2,008 1,394 1,424 2,395 

Majority, 1,762 1,189 869 770 

It is th(5 fashion to regard the Gladstonianism of the North- 
Kastern District as ineradicable and impenetrable. But these 
fit^ures siiow that this superstition is not beyond cavil. In 1832 
these (bounties were Conservative ; down to 1866 Aberdeenshire 
remained so ; and under the 1868 franchise East Aberdeenshire 
was handsomely recovered for Conservatism, by a majority of 
345 in 1875. They have been affected more than southern 
counties by })ropaganda on the relations of landlord and tenant, 
although their circumstances and conditions are wholly different 
from those of the jiurely Highland counties. The election of 
1885 came when the tenant farmer class was largely under the 
influence of the Farmers' Alliance agitation of some years before, 
and when an enormous class of new voters had just been ad- 
mitted to the franchise, and carefully indoctrinated by demon- 

Scotland and the Unionist Cause. 375 

strations of a spectacular character with the prevalent Radical 
misrepresentations. But there is a strong Conservative element 
in the character of the people, and there is substantial reason 
for believing that the majority of the agricultural population 
proper are quite well affected to the Unionist cause. Sir Arthur 
Grant would now have been member for West Aberdeenshire 
had the rural districts not been weighted with an offshoot of 
Aberdeen. East Aberdeen and Banffshire are both controlled by 
the large fishing communities along their coasts. The circum- 
stances of the last bye-election in the former were peculiarly 
unfavourable to a strong country poll, but rather the contrary in 
the case of the fishermen voters. The general lesson is that 
where a constant and courageous effort is made on every occasion 
to assert and sustain constitutional principles progress is made, 
though its rate and extent will depend on a variety of circum- 
stances ; that no advance is made without fighting ; that a contest 
to be creditable must be prepared for in time, and that the 
North-East is not a bit more hopeless than other places were ten 
years ago. There is no part of tlie country which has a stronger 
local patriotism : it may be hoped that in the hands of the North- 
Eastern Divisional Committee, this will supply an effective 
motive force for imbuing these constituencies with a larger- 
minded and a broader political faith than the miserable class- 
against-class dogmas that have too often been expounded by their 
Parliamentary representatives. 

The Northern District Division consists of the counties of 
Moray and Nairn, Inverness, Ross, Sutherland, and Caithness, 
and the Inverness and Wick groups of burghs. The figures in 
this district for purposes of comparison are worthless as far as the 
election of 1885 is concerned, for Moray and Nairn and luver- 
ness w^ere the only seats contested by Conservatives, all the others 
lieing fought by Crofter as opposed to official Liberal candidates. 
Such as they are, the figures show that in the two contested 
seats the Conservatives polled 3,597 to 8,499 Gladstone or 
Crofter votes. In 1886, Inverness-shire being uncontested, the 
Unionists had 6,541 votes to 12,006 recorded for their opponents, 
and in 1892 every seat being fought, the respective polls were 
10,913 to 14,766. In 1886, the Unionists held Inverness-shire 

37G ScotlitJid and (he Unionist Cause, 

aud the Inverness Burghs. These were lost, and the Wick 
Burghs gained in 1892. There can be no doubt that the most 
difficult prospect in Scotland lies before the Northern Divisional 
Committee. At the same time, this division did better than the 
North-East by one seat in 1892 ; a gallant assault is being made 
upon Ross-shire, and in spite of Mr. Gilbert Beith's tardy 
convictions as to the utility of the House of Lords, the Inverness 
Burghs should have awakened to some sense of the mistake they 
made at last election. 

The South- Western District Division is a small one with a 
distinct character of its own, and an exceptionally good record. 
It contains Dumfriesshire, Kirkcudbrightshire, Wigtonshire, 
and the Dumfries Burghs. In 1885 thsre were 10,159 Con- 
servative and 11,520 Gladstonian votes : in 1886, 10,715 Unionist 
and 8,924 Gladstonian, and in 1892 10,669 Unionist, and 9,071 
Gladstonian. In 1885 the Conservatives held two out of the four 
seats by small majorities. In 1886 and 1892 the Unionists hare 
held three lu one case by an overwhelming majority. The 
Unionist vote shows an increase upon that of 1885, while it has 
not quite reached the figure of 1886, when the constituencies were 
more fully polled out in this division than in other parts of 
Scotland. The Gladstonian poll has picked up a little since 
1886, but is more than 1000 below the figure of 1885. The 
most curious fact is that the Unionist vote in the Burghs should 
have steadily decreased. It is perhaps accounted for by the 
action of the Irish element in these towns, and the South- Western 
Divisional Committee have acted rightly in turning their atten- 
tion in the first instance to a determined effort to bring the 
burghs into line with the counties, and make the South- West 
solid for the Union. 

The constituency of Orkney and Shetland stands by itself. 
It is in the peculiar position of showing that Unionism was 
weaker in it in 1892, than Conservatism in 1885, a result which is 
wholly attributable to the social demoralisation that it has 
experienced, in common with some other constituencies on the 
mainland, from the teachings of Land agitators. 

A general survey of Scotland thus shows that upon inductive 
reasoning from past conflicts the Unionists need not despair of 

Scotland and the Unionist Cause. 377 

substantial success in any division of the country. They have 
been steadily approaching the time when the work of years 
produces definite results on the Parliamentary situation, and a 
favourable political atmosphere rapidly ripens crops that have 
struggled with difficulty through the earlier stages of growth. 
In the South-East absolute and complete victory is within reach 
of a determined effort ; in the Eastern and Western districts the 
early winning of several seats is a matter of practical politics. 
In the Tay and the North-Eastern divisions there is every 
encouragement to hard work, and even in the far north there 
are at least three seats which a strong pull should secure. 

The results of the annual registrations have almost uniformly 
been favourable to the Unionist cause, wherever active attention 
is given to this most important sphere of politi'^al activity. In 
1892 there was one constituency which showed a substantial 
Gladstonian gain, and one or two others which showed slight 
ones ; but in at least twenty the Unionist gains were large or 
substantial, and in many more they were appreciable. The pro- 
gress of 1892 was more than sustained in 1893. In half-a-dozen 
constituencies the Gladstoiiians were able to boast a slight gain 
of a few votes, but in four times that number the Unionists had 
large gains, in eight more their advantage was substantial, and 
in others the balance was on the right side. As was to be ex- 
pected, this progress is most marked in the Western district, 
where the Conservatives have for vears been strontjer than in 
other parts of Scotland, where population is more dense, and 
where the conditions of life afford a more fruitful field for the 
labours of the registration agent. B .t within the Eastern district 
good work has also been done, and nut lea^^t in the constituencies 
in and around the Scottish metropolis, which shewed such a mar- 
vellous growth of Unionist sentiment at the i:eneral election, and 
the first-fruits of whose future political faith have already been 
reaped in West Lothian at the election of 1893. Several of the 
constituencies which form the Tay district division of the Scot- 
tish National Union have also done remarkably well. In the 
South- Western district, probably owin^r to the conditions of the 
localities and to the extent to which Unionist strength had al- 
ready been brought out, the figures are not so large. In the 

378 Scotland and the Unionist Cause. 

North-Eastern and Northern divisions there is less evidence of 
progress to be gathered from the reported registration results, 
but the waning majorities of a series of elections in East Aber- 
deenshire, the corresponding and encouraging advance in Banff- 
shire, exhibited on a sudden emergency, and in the absence of 
proper preparation, and the magnificent work in West Aberdeen- 
shire, which converted a seat formerly regarded as hopeless into 
one trembling in the balance, afford a good augury for the future 
and supply an incentive to every mode of political work. 

The sensitive state of the political barometer is sufficient warn- 
ing, if warning were needed, of the necessity of providing with- 
out delay, every seat which is to be seriously fought, with a suit- 
able candidate. It is satisfactory to know that in the eighteen 
months since last election, much has been done in this direction. 
The South- Western district is completely manned, the Western is 
substantially supplied. The Eastern district has declared candi- 
dates for most of its seats, and with two or three exceptions the 
rest are understood to be arranged for. Somewhat similar is the 
state of the Tay division. But the North-East still lags behind, 
and it should be borne in mind that it illustrated at last election 
the evils of a practically unprepared for contest arranged at the 
eleventh hour. The Northern district presents conditions of 
peculiar difficulty, but it is understnod ttiat the most likely seats 
are practically provided. No time should be lost in completing 
preparations for an energetic, a systematically organised, and a 
sustained attack oi; every seat which presents a probability of 
victory, or the possibility of such a redaction of a majority as is 
the stepping-stone to future triumph. 

In view of tiie present distribution of political power it is 
interesting to note the t<»tal electorate of the various districts 
under which Scoiand has been dealt with, and into which com- 
munity of interest, geograpiiical conditions and railway facilities 
naturally divide it. In 1893 the total electorate was 625,659. 
The averaire to eacii of the 72 members would be 8,689. It is 
curious that one University seat numbers 8,914 voters and the 
other 8,438. Orkney and Shetland have a constituency of 7,011. 
The following are the total and average electorates for the six 
divisions : — 

Scotland and the Unionist Cause. 379 






Eastern District, 





Western ,, 










North-eastern District, 














It is obvious that the two most northern counties which now 
return one member each ought to be consolidated, and that pos- 
sibly the two sets of northern burghs might be fused with advan- 
tage. An examination of the electorates will show that justice 
would be done, and special interests grouped more satisfactorily 
if the agricultural electorate of Aberdeenshire were relieved by 
the extension of the Elgin Burgh group, so as to include other 
considerable fishing communities along the coast. Density of 
population must always to a certain extent lead to a comparative 
iiiagnitude of electorate, but it is difficult to see why a Sutherland 
crofter should have considerably more than five times the power 
of a South Avrshire farmer or a Mid Lothian manufacturer. It 
is a remarkable fact that the strength of Unionism lies in the 
large constituencies of the West, and is developing most rapidly 
in the larger constituencies of the East and North-East. But on 
the whole, with the exception of the far North, and to a less aggra- 
vated extent the South- West, the 72 members are not so unfairly 
distributed between the different divisions, though within these 
divisions several re-arrangements ought to be made. 

In spite of certain of these electoral conditions which make 
for their disadvantage, Scottish Unionists have every reason to 
look forward with hope to the coming contest, and to exert them- 
selves to the uttermost. They have three important factors in 
their favour, which have come into play since last general elec- 
tion. Scotsmen are not more enamoured of Home Rule, since 
the veil that enshrouded it has been lifted, and the mechanism of 
the figure has been dissected. They know now that it means ab- 
solute betrayal of their kinsmen and co-religionists in Ulster, 
without pretence of protection or compensation ; they know that 
it means Scotland paying the piper to a grotesquely unfair ex- 
tent, in order that Irishmen may dance ; and they know that it 

.*>Si) S(, AnJfetr.s Metliral Detjree*, 

n leans thu swamping of their uwn 72 members in the Hoase of 
Commons by a band of 8u quasi fureii^ners, without responsibility, 
aiul holilin<x in commission a dictatorial |K>wer. Scottish Liberal 
(MuHvhmen now realize that tlieir Church has not only been de- 
nounced hut doomed, and that the executioners are at the doors. 
And it is not in one party alone that deep dissatisfaction exists 
with the conduct of Scottish business and the administration of 
Scottish affairs (hiring the last eighteiMi montlis. 

A Scottish Conservative. 

To the Editor of The Srnttis/t Review. 

Siu, — The autlior of the admirable notice of ' The Medical 
Schools of Scotland,* in the January number of The Scottish 
Revieic^ has, I think, been inadvertently a little unjust both to 
the * Triple ' (lualification of the Scottish Bodies, and to the 
Univeivity of St. Andrews. 

At p. 2<) of that paper the writer says ' The Royal Colleges 
of Physicians and Surgeons of Edinburgh, and the Faculty of 
(ilasgow, give a " Triple" combined License to students who 
do not desire, or cannot obtain a University degree, or wish to 
supplement it, on practically the same examination as the 
University, except that the scientific subjectjsi of Botany, 
Physics, and Biology are not examined upon. The student 
coming up for that License may have studied anywhere.' 
Probably the ^-eat attraction of that License lies in the last 
clause of this paragi'aph, — the student may have studied any- 
where. This examination is open to all who possess the 
needful education, and the necessary amount of knowledge. 
As shewn by the report of the Inspectors of the General 
Medical Council, this examination is of a very high class indeed, 
it is, as the writer referred to says, ' practically the same ex- 
amination as the University.' The clause therefore * who 
cannot obtain a University degree,' must be explained by 
some such supplementary statement as ' through not having 

St. Andrews Medical Degrees, 381 

kept up the regular anni medici necessary for a University 
degree,' and not for want of education or of knowledge. The 
statement also that the triple qualification does not require an 
examination in the scientific subjects of * Botany, Physics, and 
Biology,' is no longer applicable, as all candidates are now 
required to pass a full examination in Physics, and elementary 
Biology, both vegetable and animal. In all respects therefore 
the examination for the Triple License is now abreast of that 
of the University. Though it only confers a license to practice 
and not a University degree, yet so highly is freedom of 
education valued that this License is taken by a yearly average 
of 213 men, and this number is annually increasing. As the 
three teaching Universities of Scotland only turn out amongst 
them some 400 graduates annually, it seems reasonable to 
suppose that a University degree, obtainable in the same un- 
restricted manner as this License, — which actually costs as much 
as any degree — would be even more highly appreciated. In- 
spection by the General Medical Council would effectively secure 
the maintenance of a high standard in regard to the examina- 
tion. The narrowing effect of the maintenance of the unwise 
system of students being examined for their degrees by their 
teachers can only be fully realised by those conversant with 
this method, who have also had an opportunity of observing 
the opposite procedure which prevails on the Continent. But it 
may to some extent be appreciated by a consideration of the 
numbers of graduates who find it needful to broaden their 
views by a year or two of study in Continental schools. 

In regard to the University of St. Andrews, the writer says 
at p. 21, ' St. Andrews University brought some contempt on 
Scotch medical degrees, and caused much scandal early in the 
century by virtually " selling" its degrees without examination. 
No doubt they were only conferred on men who had a medical 
qualification already, and who could show testimonials of good 
character and professional repute ; but it was a very grave 
academic crime to have committed ; and under the enactments 
of the 1858 Act, the University was fitly punished by being 
deprived of the full power she had possessed, and was only 
allowed to give ten medical degrees each year to suitable men 

382 St, Andrews Medical Degrees, 

who had beeu iu the profession for some time, and after proper 

Now, I am well aware that Scotch medical degrees have 
often been unjustly aspersed, chiefly because they are all mere 
licenses to practice, and have no Academic prestige, inasmuch 
as a degree in arts is not insisted upon as a necessary prelimi- 
nary. But there is no proof whatever that the degree of St. 
Andrews has ever been contemptible, or that any scandal was 
ever connected with it. The most august professional body 
in Scotland, the Royal College of Physicians of Edinburgh, was 
incorporated by Royal Charter signed and sealed on St. 
Andrews* day, 1681. From that date to January 1800 there 
were admitted 151 fellows, of these 54 were graduates of 
St. Andrews, and 55 were graduates in medicine of the Uni- 
versity of Edinburgh, leaving 42 graduates to be distributed 
among seven Continental Universities, of which Rheims was 
the favourite (with a total of 17), and the other two Scotch 
Universities (Glasgow with 7, and Aberdeen with 19). Evi- 
dently up to the end of last century the St. Andrews degree 
held a very high position indeed amongst the elite of the 
medical profession iu Scotland. During the early part of last 
century the Royal College of Physicians of Edinburgh, com- 
posed of graduates from all the most famous Universities of 
the world, more than one-third of them being as we have just 
seen graduates of St Andrews, was engaged in founding and 
completing the medical faculty of the incipient University of 
Edinburgh. This College examined and licensed in 1705 the 
first graduate in medicine of the University of Edinburgh, and 
it contiimed to examine all the medical graduates of this 
University until its medical faculty was complete. But the 
College of Physicians did more, for it also examined and 
licensed Dr. James Crawford, the first Professor of Medicine, 
and Alexander Monro, the first Professor of Anatomy. In fact 
till the medical faculty was complete every teacher of medicine 
or of the collateral sciences who aspired to be a professor in 
the University of Edinburgh, had first to be examined and 
licensed by the College of Physicians, more than one-third 
of whom were graduates of the University of St Andrews. 

Sl Andrews Medical Degrees. 38S 

If we except quite recent times, the first five and twenty 
years of this century were the palmiest days of Edinburgh 
University, according to the writer of the article referred to, 
they must also have been the days when the medical degree 
of St. Andrews had reached its lowest ebb. Yet if we consult 
the roll of that powerful and distinguished Body which had 
just completed the establishment of this flourishing University, 
by graduating its students and licensing its professors, we do 
not find the St. Andrews degree at any discount, or that Edin- 
burgh occupies any pre-eminent position. Out of 95 Fellows ad- 
mitted during the first twenty-five years of this century, 36 
were graduates of St. Andrews and 38 of Edinburgh. Notwith- 
standing the enormous strides which Edinburgh had made, the 
proportion of the graduates of the one university to those of 
the other remains much the same. Obviously St. Andrews had 
lost none of its prestige, if it had virtually sold its degrees, it 
was still fortunate enough to have amongst its graduates the 
very foremost men in the profession in Scotland. 

It must be confessed, for Dr. Briggs has said it, that St. 
Andrews did occasionally, during the early years of this cen- 
tury, confer its medical degrees, without examination, upon 
men who had satisfied its professors by testimonials that they 
were worthy of the honour, but it did no more than the Royal 
College of Physicians did then, and continued still to do down 
so late as thirteen years ago. Examinations, especially for an 
honorary degree, were not so much in vogue in those days as 
they are now, and as it is exactly 69 years since St. Andrews 
gave up its wicked way, it seems rather to deserve to be com- 
plimented and rewarded for being in advance of the times, 
instead of being punished and fined for only doing for a short 
time what others did with impunity for a much longer period* 

When St. Andrews did turn from the error of her ways, she 
did so only too efi'ectually, and when the regulations in regard 
to the examination for its M.D. degree came into action in 
March, 1826, they were so stringent that Professor Briggs told 
the Commissioners, in 1827, that it was easier to get a degree 
at Glasgow or Edinburgh than at St. Andrews. And he 
naively added that these regulations were entirely satisfactory,. 

384 5^ Andretca Medical Degrees. 

especially to * the Edinburgh Professora' For three years this 
satisfactory state of matters continued, so that the Commis- 
sioners were able to report that up to the 22nd of August, 
1829, there had been only two degrees in medicine conferred 
by the University of St. Andrews, one of these being honorary. 

Ere long, however, as always happens, the students became 
educated up to the requirements of the University, and with- 
out any relaxation of its regulations, the Al.D. of St Andrews 
became more popular and more sought after than ever. So 
much was this the case that, duriug twenty-six years, from 
1836 to 1862, an averago of 725 graduated annually at St 
Andrews. This average was greater than that of any other 
University in the kingdom, except Edinburgh, and occasion- 
ally the number of St. Andrews' graduates overtopped even 
that of Edinburgh itself. 

Two reasons amongst others combined to make the St. 
Andrews degree popular; first, there was the freedom ot 
teaching, a student could get his education where he pleased. 
He was not, as was the case in Edinburgh during the first five 
decades of this century, helplessly thirled to the teaching of 
certain professors, many of whom were eff'ete. And second, 
there never was a doubt as to the validity ot the St Andrews 
degree, while up to the passing of the Act of 1858, the title of 
* Our Tounis College ' to rank as a University, and to grant 
degrees, was, to say the least, extremely doubtful, and was often 

No longer able to pick holes in the examination, the Com- 
missioners in 1863 found fault with the students for coming from 
the London schools to St Andrews, when, as they said, 'a license 
of any of the London Medical Corporations suflices to admit 
them to practice ; and if they aspire to a degree, it appears 
more natural that they should present themselves as candi- 
dates to the University of London.' A piece of gratuitous 
advice which was entirely uncalled for. Suppose the present 
Commissioners were to take it into their wise heads to say to 
Edinburgh, * We find that 45 per cent of your students come 
from England and the Colonies, we consider that it would be 
much better for these young men to be taught at home, and 

St, Andrews Medical Degrees. 385 

we desire that for the future you shall decline to educate any 
but those born in Scotland.' High-handed and domineering 
as such an ordinance would be, it would not be really more 
unreasonable than the advice of the Commissioners of 1863, an 
advice which culminated in the ordinance by which the number 
of men graduating at St. Andrews in any one year was restricted 
to ten, and these over forty and already on the register. 

It is a low point of view to take, and one which I am not 
inclined to press, but it is quite needful that every one should 
know to what extent the interests of St. Andrews have been 
sacrificed for the sake of others not more deserving. 

The thirty years, from 1836 to 1866, include four years of 
the ten men only, yet, during these thirty years, the graduates 
in medicine paid in fees for their diplomas, £53,261 5 
Of this there was— 

Retained by the University, £33,331 5 

Paid to Government for Stamps, 19,930 

Fees paid by Graduates in Arts during the 

same period for Diplomas, - - - £762 6 

No Stamp required. 

Thus we see that during the past two hundred years the 
M.D. degree of St. Andrews has always held an eminent posi- 
tion in Scotland, and that it was no less esteemed in England. 
Throughout the history of these two hundred years there is 
no hint of any scandal, no trace of any contempt connected with 
this degree, until a jealous neighbour for its own selfish ends, 
endeavoured to cast a slur upon it. Moreover, we see that St. 
Andrews was not punished because it granted degrees without 
examination, but because, in spite of a very stringent examina- 
tion in medicine, preceded in every case by an equally strin- 
gent examination in arts, she was still too successful. With the 
Greshara University looming in the near future, it is unlikely that 
so great a success can ever be repeated. But the Commissioners 
must remember that when the Gresham becomes a reality, and 
provides a degree for the licentiates of the London Colleges, if 
there be no open University to which the licentiates of our 
Scottish Bodies can resort, one of two things must happen : either 
extra-mural teaching will entirely cease, and with its failure 
xxiii. 25 

386 St. AnJrewnt Medical DegretB. 

the Uuiveraities themBclves must greatly suffer, or the strongest 
endeavour will be made to secure the power of conferring 
degrees for our Scottish Colleges. A dernier reeeortf involving a 
blow to the Universities which the present Commissioners will 
not enjoy being the means of bringing about. 

I am, yours obediently, 





Deutsche Rundschau (January, February, March). — 
' Reflections of a German travelling in Germany/ the title is a 
strange one, and to judge from it, the paper to which it is 
prefixed might seem somewhat superfluoua Such an im- 
pression, if it be produced by the beading of Herr P. D. 
Fischer's contribution to the January number of this review, 
will, however, quickly disappear on perusal of the article itself. 
For the last fifty years, the writer, in virtue of his official 
position, has travelled over and over again through the length 
and breadth of Germany. He has done so with the eyes of a 
close and keen observer, and with the mind of a cultured and 
well-informed man. Drawing from an abundant store of re- 
miniscences and personal experiences, he compares the past 
with the present and indicates the many important changes of 
every kind which have everywhere taken place within the 
last half century. Nor is the subject matter alone interesting. 
A light and pleasant style imparts an additional charm to what 
German and foreign readers alike will find a delightful piece 
of work. — Herr Edward Hanslick continues his attractive 
' Lebens-Eriunerungen,' reminiscences which supply an inter- 
esting chapter of the history of music during the greater part 
of the present century. The present instalment comes down 
to the year 1866. — The article which Herr Ludwig von Hirsch- 
feld entitles * A Statesman of the Old School,' and which he 
bases on official records and correspondence, traces the career 
of Leopold von Plessen, a former Mecklenburg Minister. — The 
paper bearing the title, ' What Women can do,* and the 
signature of Lady Blennerhasset, though exceedingly interest- 
ing in itself, does not contain anything new to English readers. 
It is based on a book which appeared last year, the ' Adven- 
tures in Mashonalaud, by two Hospital Nurses, Rose Blenner- 
hassett and Lucy Sleeman.' — English material has also 
supplied the paper which Herr E. Reyer devotes to the 
development of Australia. He has made excellent use of the 
official reports put at his disposal by the Government of New 
South Wales, and also of Coghlan's ' Wealth and Progress of 
New South Wales,' and has summarized them ably and care- 
fully. — Some months ago, the Deutsche Rundschau published 
a paper dealing with Gottfried Keller's sojourn in Heidelberg. 
As a supplement it now gives a sketch of his five years' resi* 

388 Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 

dence in Berlin, from 1850 to 1855. To the paper are appended 
a number of most interesting letters from Keller himself, which 
throw much light on his character, opinion, and methoda — A 
paper of considerable value is that in which Dr. Plath deals 
with the difficult question as to the actual existence of 
authentic specimens of Merovingian and Carolingian archi- 
tecture. After showing the fallacy of the assumption that the 
buildings of this period were exclusively, or even chiefly of 
wood and must therefore have disappeared, he argues that 
there must be, either above or beneath the surface, a con- 
siderable number of remains. He shows from historical 
records, where important buildings were raised during the 
period vnder consideration, and expresses his conviction 
that systematic excavations could not fail to produce notable 
results. — A further instalment of Hanslick's remmiscences takes 
us to Paris during the Exhibition year, 1867, and introduces 
us to a number of musical and other celebrities — Rossini, 
Auber, Berlioz, Adelina Patti, Gustave Dore, Thiers, Jules 
Favre, and many others. From Paris it returns to Vienna and 
makes us acquainted with Theodor Billroth. — Several of the 
items in the table of contents for March are continuations of 
articles already mentioned. This is the case with * Gottfried 
Keller in Heidelberg und Berlin,' which is here brought to a 
close by an instalment which further justifies what has already 
been said as to the value of this contribution. — Herr Fischer also 
continues and concludes his ' Reflections,' of which this second 
part is no less interesting and instructive than the first instal- 
ment. — The well-known name of Hermann Grimm naturally 
attracts attention to the ' Reminiscences and Forecasts ' 
opposite which it stands. Though rather discursive, it is a 
pleasant and interesting contribution. The reminiscences 
deal chiefly ^vith the Emperor William I. and the Empress 
Augusta ; the forecasts mainly concern Goethe, ot whom the 
writer believes it likely that the twentieth century will find 
that many of its discoveries have been anticipated by him. — 
In a short but important paper, Professor Steindorff — Ebers's 
successor in Leipzig — gives an account of the result of his re- 
searches in the East. — All the numbers for the quarter have 
the usual literary, dramatic, and political reviews and letters, 
as well as instalments of an excellent serial, ' Caritas,* by Emil 

Westermanns Monats-Hefte (January, February, March). 
— Each of the three parts for this quarter open with instalments 
of a very powerful novel by Ossip Schubin, *Woher tont 
dieser Missklang durch die Welt?" — a work which for inten- 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 389 

sity of feeling as well as for technical skill is distinctly above 
the average of German fiction, and which rises to a greater 
height than even ' Vae Victus ! ' that remarkable picture of 
modern life which first drew attention to the writer some five 
or six years ago. — The January part concludes Herr Gurlitt's 
study of ' Painting in Scotland/ It is particularly interesting 
for its notice of the Glasgow school. He deals with the chief 
representatives of it in brief but suggestive remarks, calling 
special attention to the works of Melville, Lavery, and James 
Guthrie. The article is illustrated, but the illustrations are very 
far from reaching the standard set in recent numbers, to which 
we made reference at the time. — * Verismus' is a new term, for 
which, however, there does not appear to have been any great 
necessity. It is used to indicate the artist's effort to make his 
production as like nature as possible. Verism, to anglicize the 
word, does not, therefore, differ very materially from what is 
now commonly styled realism ; but it has been taken into the 
slang of musical criticism, especially in connection with such 
productions as Cavalleria Rusticana. To this ' Verism,' Herr 
8cholz devotes a paper in which he shows that, taking the term 
in its narrower sense, there can be no such thing in music ; 
whilst if it be taken in a wider sense, no mu^ic can exist without 
it. As to Mascagni and Leoncavallo, he attributes the furore 
caused by their so-called veristn to the simple fact of their having 
dealt with essentially Italian subjects. — Herr Hermann Klein 
devotes a few pages to an account of the manner in which the 
barometer was invented, his reason for relating the well-known 
episode, to which he does not add a single detail, is that it took 
place 250 years ago. — An interesting description of a visit to 
the Andaman Islands, on one of which England has established 
an Indian penal settlement, is given by Herr Ehlers. — 
Bernardin de St. Pierre, the author of ' Paul et Virginie,' is the 
subject of a very readable sketch, which does not, however, 
contain anything but what everybody knows who has any 
acquaintance with French literature. — The February part 
brings another biographical and critical essay of far greater 
interest and value. It is devoted to Guy de Maupassant, and 
is marked by a thorough knowledge and understanding of his 
works as well as by a very fair appreciation of his literary 
qualities. — In the same number there are two articles descrip- 
tive of foreign parts. One of them takes the reader away to 
the south seas ; the other to Gingeh, near Cairo, the scene of 
St. George's legendary exploit with the dragon, — The laying 
out of gardens is dealt with with considerable detail in a paper 
which runs through two numbers, and which is particularly 
well illustrated. — In the third of the quarter's numbers the 

390 SumtnarifM of Foreign RetiewM. 

most intcr(*8tiii^ contribution in that which ^vea an account 
ot* nil tliiit has bfeii dcvined of Iat«! veara to lessen the horrora 
of war and to bring rt'licf to those whom it strikes down on the 
l)atth-ficl(]. — The same number contains an interesting article 
(l(*s(Ti|>tive of mining-life in Argentina. It is well and 
abundantly illustratetl. 

TiiKouMJisrnE SxrniKN ind Kritikex (No. 2, 1894. 
Dr. Ktiliie, of £rlani:en, under the title ' Zur Geschichte der 
( )r(li nation und der Kirchenzucht/ gives a brief account of the 
in vest iirut ions conducted in 1588 bv two clergymen as to the 
prociMhire in vogue then in Wittenberg and neighbouring dis- 
tricts, in su]>])lying clergymen or onlaining men to fill the charges 
wJHTi' reiiularly trained men were not numerous enough to meet 
the want, lie gives us their reports, and these throw consider- 
aiili' liiiht on the ideas entertained in ecclesiastical circles at that 
time regarding ordination and the exercise of ecclesiastical 
functions <;enerallv. — Dr. Hermann Schultz continues his ex- 
tninelv interestin<r article on ' the moral idea of merit and its 
application to the comprehension of the work of Christ.' In the 
}>revi(ins section, as we showed in our last issue, he brought out 
very clearly the distinction between Christ's teaching as to the 
administration of the Divine rewards, and that prevailing in Hid 
day In # Jewish and Gentile circles. According to the teaching 
of Jesus it was not the mere acts which a man did, the works 
which he performed, that determined the Divine judgments re- 
garding him. It was the nature or character of the man him- 
Si'lf, and that judged in the liiiht of his opportunities and circum- 
stances, t!:at conditioned G<)d's verdict regarding him. The man 
wjio knew his lord's will and did it not was to be punished more 
severelv than he who fail(»d from ifjnorance of that wilL Dr. 
Scliultz went on then to show how the mediaBval doctrine of 
merits — the merits of Christ and of the saints — arose in the 
CImrch in defiance of the Masters teaching and that of the 
Kew Testament writers. He traces further here the evolution of 
that ecclesiastical doctrine, and shows how it was fostered 
and coloured hy the interplay of Rcmian and Germanic Law and 
Feudal customs connected with the administration of justice. 
Ansehn's theory of Christ's Satuf actio is minutely examined, and 
Dr. Schultz is careful to clear it of some misconceptions that pre- 
vail even yet in certain high quarters regarding it. He shows 
too, that however unsatisfactory that theory is now seen to be, it 
was the logical outcome of the ideas current then among jurists 
and clerical writers. He traces the history of the doctrine and 
the controversies it gave rise to in the schools of the Nominalists 
and Eealists, etc., up to the dawn of the Reformation. — ^Dr. J. 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews, 391 

K. Asmus, of Karlsruhe, contributes an excellent paper on 
Gregory of Nazianzen, in which he shows the close aflSnity of 
his ethical and philosophical views with those that character- 
ized the Cynics, as also the practical consistency of his life 
with his principles. Dr. N. Muller, Professor of Theology 
at Berlin, gives a second article on Konrad Wimpina, which, 
as before, he describes as * Eine Quellenstudie/ Exegetical 
notes follow on Deuteronomy xxxiii. 12, by Herr PJtarrer 
Boklen; on 1 Sam., ix., 24, and Isaiah, liii., and emendations 
of the texts suggested by Prof. Ley of Marburg, and on Luke, 
xvi., 11, by Prof. Karl Knoke of Gottingen. The other articles 
are'Jenaer Lutherf unde,' by Dr. Buchwald ; and * Uber Hans 
Neilsen Ilauge/ — a Swedish preacher of some notoriety at the 
beginning of this century — by Dr. G. Kent. An interesting 
summary and review of recent works on the Old Testament is 
contributed by Dr. L. Kautzsch. The works reviewed are 
Konig's ' Einlectung ' ; Wildeboer's * De Letterkunde des ouden 
Verbonds ' ; Dr. Driver s ' Introduction,' Dr. W, Robertson 
Smith's second edition of ' The Old Testament in the Jewish 
Church,' and Dr. Holzinger's ^ Einleitung in den Hexadeuch.' 

Theologische Studien und Kritiken (No. 3, 1894.) — 
The largest part of this number is given to an elaborate article 
by Dr. Kleinert on the recent laws to regulate religious worship 
in the State Churches of Germany. The regulations in use 
hitherto have been those passed in 1829, under Fredrich William 
III. The changes proposed now have given rise to a somewhat 
animated controversy in the religious press, which shows no signs 
of abating as yet, or losing any of its heat. This review of the situ- 
ation will be of service to those of our readers who wish to master 
the details of the proposed regulations, but it is only fair to men- 
tion that it is already the subject of adverse criticism on its 
native soil. But a writer can only, after all, see things through 
his own spectacles, and present them from his own point of view. 
It is the privilege of readers to look at them again through their 
own (naked or aided) eyes, and judge according to the appear- 
ances things have to their minds. — Dr. Hermann Schultz takes up 
again the subject of 'Merits,' or the church doctrine thereof, and 
traces its history in the Protestant churches from the era of the 
Reformation. This doctrine had much to do with the origin of 
the Reformation. It was the gross abuses to which that doctrine 
had led that fired the indignation of Luther, and impelled him to 
examine and, from examination, to denounce it and the system 
built upon, and fostered by, it. But his past training in scholastic 
theology still conditioned to a large extent the currents of his 

W2 Summaries of Foreujn Reviews. 

thinking whoii he came face to face with the nature of Christ's 
rediinptive work. This inheritance from the schoolmen and their 
predecessors was the funs et oritjo of most of the difficulties in 
which rnitestaiit theologians found themselves involved when 
they tried to explain to themselves and otliers what it was in the 
death of Clirist that secured salvation for men. The efforts to 
find a satisfactory solution to the probh-ni are liere detailed, or 
at least the most ini|)ortant of them, and it forms a curious 
chapter in the history of tlie human mind, illustrating as it does 
the play of the conservative and progressive elements in its evolu- 
tion. The controvei'sy still proceeds, and sects and schools are 
still being formed round * solutions' of the mystery. — Professor 
Warth, of Kariithal, furnishes an additioiial note to his recent 
pa|K*r on Matthew xi. liK — The oidy recent publication noticed 
is Dr. Witte's, *I)ie Erneueruiitr der Schlosskirche zu Witten- 
berg,' and the notice is by Dr. J. Kiistlin. 


V()i»K()Si Phil<)S()i»jiii I PsYciiOLO(;ii, No. 20 (Questions Philo- 
sophical and PMycliolo^cal) begins with an article on Art and 
Morality, by M. E. A. Jiobroff, in which he informs us that he 
has long been occuj)ied on this subject, and has called forth 
severe criti(}ueft in the Russian journals, the appearance of 
which, especially of late, has shown how much interest there is 
in the subject, more particularly on its atsthetical side. The 
question has excited so much interest that it has been taken up 
from a juridical point of view by jurists, and in particular by 
the St. Petersburg Juridical Society, in a treatise on press 
offences, and the obligations of artists in relation to works of 
art. The author shows truly enough the enormous extent and 
bearing of art upon the life of every cultivated man, and cites 
DostoeiFski to show that it bears upon man almost as much as 
food and drink. The author also illustrates the wonder-work- 
ing power of art in its effect upon evil and debased natures^ 
and in elevating others by giving them new impulses, and 
notices that the decision of the question may be placed on 
other grounds. He next turns to the psychical conditions of 
art and morality, how far they are like one another, and as to 
how they differ. Art and Morality, he observes, participate in 
external movement, for Art calls into being its production, 
while Morality expresses itself by concessions or permissions, 
both consisting in activities of the subject in the external 
world. — The article succeeding this is an elaborate review of 
the recent works of our own Romanes on the Psychological 
Nature of Instinct. The author takes up the subject from 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews, 393 

1760, when Reimarus endeavoured to formulate the difference 
between instinct and reason, the former being regarded 
as independent of experience and reflection, the activity 
being carried forward in this form even from birth. Cuvier, 
the great naturalist, strove to lay down the boundary line be- 
tween these two faculties; but from that time there has been 
a continuous controversy between naturalists who accept the 
above stated view of instinct, and others who are inclined to 
accept the view in which instinct is regarded much more as 
approximating to reason in man. Of the moot points of a 
fundamental kind in Zoopsychology, occupying a central place, 
the most important is the question as to the psychological 
nature of instinct. In its decision, partisans of the subjective 
method have sought a basis for the reconciHation of the 
cardinal differences of opinion. From the other side, in rela- 
tion to this question, there are data obtained by other methods 
of research, which render the hope of success from these en- 
deavours very doubtful, and establish an entirely different 
view as to the psychical nature of instinct. The most notable 
representative of this direction in science, which proposes, if 
possible, to reconcile the difference of opinion on the basis of 
the subjective method, is incontestibly Romanes, also one of 
the most talented representatives of the Darwinian school. He 
has dedicated to the working out of questions of Zoopsycho- 
logy two capital works, on ' Animal Intelligence,' known to us 
in the Russian translation of M. Kholodkano ; to the second, 
on ' Mental Evolution in Animals,' we have had access by a 
French translation. The fundamental idea of the teach- 
ing of Romanes, on to this point, which renders it pos- 
sible to reconcile the prevaiHng differences of opinion on the 
territory of Zoopsychology, is his idea as to the consciousness 
of instinctive activity. It this idea were proved, the opposed 
views of Cuvier, Darwin, Wells, and others, as to the uncon- 
sciousness of instincts w(»uld be overturned, the controversies 
as to the instinctive or rational activity of animals would lose 
all their signification, so that in this and the other cases, it 
would be first of all a question of consciousness as signifying 
an activity essentially rational. This idea of the conscious- 
ness of instinctive activity, however, does not put forward any 
novelty at the hands of this author ; it has only received that 
complete treatment and t.he working up of a ground-work of 
facts which it had not received before. After these, and other 
preliminary observations, the author, M. B. Wagner, proceeds 
to analyse and discuss the contents of the two above- 
mentioned works of Mr. Romanes. The paper is to be con- 
tinued. — The next article is a continuation from the previous 

394 Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 

number of the Voprosi of the Psychological views of 
Theodore Meynert, an eminent anatomist and medical specialist 
on matters connected with the brain and nervous system, a 
Professor moreover in the University of Vienna, by M. B. 
Serbskie. — ' The World Conception of the Stankevitch circle 
and the poetry of KoltzofF/ is an interesting article from the 
purely Russian point of view. Koltzoff has been called the 
Ku^^sian Burns, but when we enter into the views and incidents 
of his life revealed by the facts put before us, the resemblance 
to Burns fades away. The British poet, whose circumstances 
and poetry remind us most of Koltzoff is not Burns, but Henry 
Kirke White, while the tragical element in the Russian poet's 
career sinks into a deeper gloom than in either of the British 
poets. Koltzoff was the son of a Russian peasant belonging: 
to Woronezh, a small town in southern Russia, who occupied 
himself with the slaughtering of cattle. This was long ante- 
cedent to the days of the emancipation of the serfs which took 
place in 1862. Koltzoff was born in 1809, received a very 
scanty education in the town school for a year and four 
months, and was then removed to assist his father in his 
occupation. The youth was sent first of all to herd the cattle 
on the ' steppe ' or vast plain which the interior of European 
Russia presents as its most characteristic feature. Even before 
his tenth year he began to awaken to intellectual life ; the first 
money given him to buy playthings was spent on the Skaski 
or folk-tales of his country, and the builini^ or folk-poesy, 
which are found so abundantly among the Slavic peoples. 
Not only so, he presently began to imitate the folk-poesy 
which came into his hands, and also the poets Lomonossoff, 
Dershavin, etc., who were the poets of the time when he lived. 
The contradictions in the life of the young poet were 
sufficiently marked, and it was soon found that the ideas and 
views of life, which presently emerged in the thoughts of 
Koltzoff, did not fit him, but the contrary, for the occupation 
of butcher's apprentice and cattle- herd, which became now his 
daily task. He had been taken from school when his mind 
was opening to apprehend the world of thought and ideas as 
they are revealed in books, and to be compelled now to turn 
his back upon the world which possessed so many attractions, 
became to him a matter of life-long regret and sorrow. 
It was perhaps some alleviation in his lot that he was 
soon * discovered ' bv a fellow-mortal who had similar 
aspirations. This discovery was made by N. B. Stanke- 
vitch, a student of the Moscow University, five years 
older than himself, and destined to become, notwithstand- 
ing his humble circumstances, the most famous member 

Summaries of Foreign Revieios, 395 

of the circle to which he belonged. Poetry was the 
daily occupation of the youth, but Stankevitch had im- 
bibed in the Moscow University, an intoxicating draught of 
the famous Natur-Philosophie of Schelling, and that he should 
communicate his thoughts on this subject to Koltzoff, was 
natural enough. A circle was speedily fonned for the recep- 
tion of these new ideas of which, judging by the history of 
Schelling and Hegel in connection with the Moscow Univer- 
sity, the Slavic youth are more susceptible than those of almost 
any other nation. They were joined by A. P. Cerebriansky, a 
pupil in the seminary or school for the clergy at Woronezh, 
and an enthusiast in poesy, music, and art. These youths be- 
came acquainted with a Professor Paoloff, who had also been 
a pupil in the seminary at Woronezh and was eventually pro- 
fessor, but brimful of enthusiasm for the philosophy of Schel- 
ling. Others were more or less drawn into this intellectual 
companionship ; all of them were more or less of the same 
ages and given to the same pursuits. Curiously the three first 
mentioned died prematurely within a few years of each other, 
Cerebriansky in 1838, Stankevitsch and PaoloflF in 1840, and 
Koltzoff in 1842. The members of the circle influenced each 
other. They did more than this. Koltzoff's poems were pub- 
lished, and have reached twenty or more editions, and hence 
it is that the circle has become interesting and influential in 
relation to Russian literature and philosophy ; hence, also, the 
circle of Stankevitsch has found its way into the Voprosi and 
become the property of literary and philosophical critics. 
Several biographies of Koltzoff have been published. The 
somewhat hard and coarse old peasant Koltzoff has been 
roughly handled, and the poetry of Koltzoff has been analysed 
in relation to the folk-poesy and Schellingian philosophy, 
which was the pabulum on which he was nourished. — In suc- 
cession to this article of M. B. Tarmerschtedt, we have a kind 
of lay sermon to the rising school of Russian thinkers, by M. 
A. Vvedensky, who goes through the well-worn schools of the 
past, the sophists of Greece, the mediaeval schools, and the 
critical philosophy of Kant in the hope of inducing the rising 
school of Russian thinkers to take up a more independent 
position. Of the success of his appeal, however, he is not very 
sanguine, for he names his own preachments Pia Desideria ! — 
In No. 18 of the Voprosi^ there was an article entitled * Faith 
and Knowledge. We have here in the twentieth number an 
echo by M. Alexander Vvedensky, and a reply * Concerning 
Views of Faith in relation to Knowledge.' The critic here 
takes up Hume's views on the causal nexus, etc., which he 
discusses with the sceptical conclusion that Hume was right. 

396 Summaries of Foreign Revieic8. 

He takes u]) also a number of other questions, and endeavours 
to shew the correctness of the Iluniean deductions. — The last 
article is on * Psychical Epidemics,' bein^ the report of a 
lecture delivered before a medical society connected with the 
University of Moscow. — This is tollowed by the usual reviews, 
controversial matter, and l)iblit»gnij)hy. 

KoosKAiiYAii Mysl — linssidH Ojunion — (December, 1893, 
January and February, 181*1;. — Where the matter comes from 
to fill these closely printed t'>l)0 pui^es monthly isu(iuestion which 
miiilit witii irood reason be propounded were our publication a 
liritish one, but it applies with tenfold force when we remember 
that that ])ublication hails from the newest member of the 
£un)])ean family, the so-i*aIled illiterate Ilussian race. Granted 
that a certain proportion of its contents consists of translated 
matter, a tribute to the forei<;ner, there still remains a large pro- 
portion of native literature, some of it indeed of a very high 
order. Tlie names of authors which we quarterly present to our 
rt^aders must have become bv this time almost household words. 
We miss, however, one name, not from the Rooskjihyak Mysl 
witli which, so far as we know, it never had connection, but from 
all bibliographic catalogues, a name of fir>t-class literary signifi- 
cance, that of His Excellency K. P. Pobcdonostseff, whose duties 
as Senator, Ober-procuror or Juri-consult of the Holy Synod, 
and latterly also of Secixjtary of State to the Emperor, leave him 
no time whatever for literary pursuits. This we state of our 
own certain knowledge, and we sadly miss our old friend. We 
now connnence our quarterly record. ' Mamzel,' a story by I. 
A. Saloflf, commenced in November, is now complete. — * The 
Island of Saghalien,' a written Itinerary, by A. P. Tchaikoff^ 
commenced iu October, still runs on through 73 pages. — * Poetry ' 
is represented by A. M. Feodoroff, M. M. Gherbanafski (two 
pieces, one of fair length), V. I. Nemirovich-Danchenko, D. S. 
Alerezhkofski. and K. D. Balmont. — 'Bagatelles of Foreign 
Literature,' by M., consist of two short tales by Leon de 
Tenso and George Ferre. — ' A Spirit Tale ' by A. I. Ertel, is 
given complete. — 'The Family Polanetski,' by Henry Senkevich, 
commenced in August, still continues, having reached Book II., 
Chap. 3. It promises largely, at least in bulk. — * Working of 
the Siberian Gold Mines in the period of the Fifties,' an historical 
record by V. I. Semefski, commenced in October, is now com- 
plete. — ' On the History of Contemporary Georgian Literature,* 
by A. S. Khakhanoff we read what few wise men in the West 
dream of. — ' Questions of the Comparative Crimes of the Sexes,' 
is a review of Mr. Foinitski's work * A Criminal Woman,' by 
E. N. Tarnof ski. — In ' On the Amelioration of Credit,' by M, 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews, 397 

Hartsenshtein, we have a profound German speculation. 
' Charles Darwin and His Theory,' are the third and fourth 
portions of a most elaborate review of the * Life and Letters of 
Charles Darwin:' John Murray, 1887, by M. A. A. — * Scien- 
tific Views,' contains papers on the * Ninth Archaeological Assem- 
bly at Wilna ' by M. S. Korelin ; ' Contemporary Condition of 
Astronomy ' by Prof. V. K. Tseraski ; and * Ninth Assembly of 
the Russian Natural History Society and its Branches at Mos- 
cow' by VI. D. Sokoloff. — *Home Review' and * Foreign Review* 
are as usual full of interest. — Our previous pleasure in perusing 
I. I. Ivanyoukoff's ' Outlines of Provincial Life' is not lessened by 
the present three further instalments. — ' Contemporary Art ' as 
usual is devoted to the record of the theatrical world of Moscow. 
— The ' Bibliographic Division,' full of interest, contains reviews 
nf 134 works, one of which is a new translation of the works of 
Charles Dickens. — The correspondence between * Alexander 
Ivanovich Hertzen and Natalie Alexandrovna Zakharin ' still 
ijoes on. — ' Olifijarchic Government after Peter the Great ' is an 
interesting political essay by A. N. Philipoff. — 'Life and Activity 
of Professor Sharks,' the French Physicist, is the contribution of 
L. S. Minor. — P. N. Milyoukoff gives us another instalment of 
his treatise, entitled * Chief Current of Russian Historical 
Thought in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries.' — The 
review of Alfred Dove's ' Autobiography of I. von Ranke ' is 
brought to a close in February after an inconvenient delay from 
the previous August till its resumption in January. — ' A Demo- 
cratic Public in a Civilised Epoch' by L L Ivanoff, and ' La 
Comedie de Societe au XVHI. siecle' by Du Bled have reference 
to the French state of things one hundred years ago. 'Posthu- 
mous Work of Taine,' 'Les Origines de la France contempo- 
raine,' ' Le Regine moderne,' Toms. H., 1894, bids fair to be a 
lengthy paper. As yet we have 42 pages only. — ' Project of an 
Economical Upraising of Russia ' by V. V. is of interest in view 
of the surplus in her National Budget just announced by M. de 
Witte, immediately following, as the Times has it, ' the disastrous 
period through which Russia has so recently passed.' — * Humanism 
and National Movement in Germany,' by P. A. Viscovatoi, shows 
the watchful eye that Russians keep upon all that passes in her 
immediate neighbourhood. 


La Nuova Antologia (February 1st). — ^M. Scherillo, writ- 
ing about the mother and step-mother of Dante, remarks that 
nothing is known of the former but her sweet name * Bella,* 
and the apostrophy in which she is addressed by the poet, is 

398 Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 

the only allusion he ever made to her. Almost as little 
is known of his step-mother. — M. Besso writes on the Italian 
budget, and Jessie White Mario, who went to Sicily for the 
purpose, commences in this, and ends in the following number, 
a sad aud detailed description of the economical and social 
condition of the island. — J. Valetta writes on the Centenary of 
Palestrina. — A. Oalanti advocates, on the part of the Roman 
curia, the preservation of the Latin liturgy in Istria, as it is 
the national liturgy of that extreme point of the Continent. — 
The bibliographical bulletin notices Edward Cannan's * History 
of the Theory of Production,' etc., opining that the author 
loses his way and fails to arrive at any true signification of 
well-digested doctrinea — (February 15th). — G. Finali contri- 
butes a paper on the 'Letters of Baron Ricasoli,' and R. 
Konfadiui, one on ' European Political Guarantees.' — C. Gioda 
begins some notes on San Carlo Borromeo and Giovanni 
Bolero. — F. d'Ovidio discusses the pedagogic question, approv- 
ing of the action of the present ministry in educational affairs. 
— In the conclusion of her paper, Jessie White Mario gives a 
terrible picture, and says tne most pressing thing is the im- 
provement of the habitations of the Sicilian labourers, until 
this is done no progress can be made in the mitigation of their 

La Rassegna Nazionale (February 1st). — Almost the whole 
of this number is occupied with a review by G. Grabinsky of 
Father Didon's ' Life of Jesus Christ' — AUessandro Rossi con- 
tributes a remarkable article, deprecating the general tone of 
hopeless depression which reigns in Italy, owing to the late 
misgovernment, and attempts, by facts and figures, to prove 
that the actual crisis is not a mortal malady, but a curable one. 
It requires, however, not only economical but moral regenera- 
tion on the part of governors and governed. The article is en- 
titled ' Keep High Your Hearts 1 ' — (February 16th). — In an 
article entitled 'Biological Chemistry and Evolution/ Professor 
P. Giacosa discusses the questions now preoccupying scientific 
men. — The Duke of Gualtiera contributes a long account of 
the rural labourers in Sicily, describing their condition. 
Though he allows that their material sufferings may have in- 
creased of late years, he thinks that the worst is their being 
deprived of the spiritual comfort and moral encouragement 
which formerly ruled. The ties of respect to authority, fear of 
the law, and religious sentiments, are all loosened. The writer 
goes on to examine the causes of the general economic depres- 
sion, and concludes with a proposal that the labourers should 
share in the property on which they work. — Alessandro Rossi 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 399 

has an interesting paper on the * Unemployed/ apropos of the 
English Government report last year. The writer examines 
all the projects for settling this important question, and applies 
his conclusions to the state of his own country. 

GiORNALE DEGLI EooNOMiSTi (January, February) (January 

I) contains : — * To the Italian Public/ — ' The movement of 
Humanity/ — ' Where have we arrived ? ' by Frederick Nietzche. 
— A remarkable passage by Dening on the Malthusian law. — 

* The first principles of law/ — * The struggle for life.' — ' A 
glance at the economical civilization of North America/ — 
Reviews, etc. — (January 7) contains: 'Financial Affairs.' — 
' The railway service and economy.' — ' Vigilance exercised on 
Banks/ — ' The progress of railways in the United States/ — 
' Italian Railways in July, 1893.' — ' The potato harvest in Italy 
in 1892.'—' The deficit in the French budget.'— (January 14) 

* Sicily and the action of the communes.' — ' The corn-tax.' — 

* The conversion of French 4^ per cent' — Reviews. (February 

II) 'The politics of economy/ — 'The corn-tax in France.' — 
Bibliographical and economical reviews. (February 18) ' The 
Exchequer.' — ' The treaty of commerce between Russia and 
Germany/ — ' The present condition of Sicily.' — ' Some new 
sources of income.' — ' The perquisitions in Genoa,' etc. 

Revista Egiziano (^published at Alexandria) contains : ' No. 
22.' — ' The Museum Hotel.' — 'Education and Art.' — 'Apropos 
of M. A. Chain's book on the Nile, the Soudan, and Egypt.' — 

* Vera.'—' Echoes of Cairo.'—' 011a Podrida.' 


Athena (Vol. V. pt. 4) opens with a paper on the remaining 
fragments of a poem by Solomos, considered as to style and 
rhythmical effects. — ^A memorial from the Philosophical Society 
to the Government dealing with its proposed University legisla- 
tion follows. — The k. Bases continues his Roman researches, 
and discusses auspices and the meaning of pro magistratu, — The 
k. Matsas sends a number of inscriptions from Chalkis. — ^A very 
interesting paper by the K. Hatzidakis on the name of the 
Morea is concluded. The common derivation from the shape of 
the Peloponnesus is rejected. The resemblance could only be 
noticed by geographers of a period long posterior to the rise of 
the name. The derivation from the Sclavonic more (sea) and 
also that of the Petredes from Mopfa he considers philologically 
impossible. He would derive the name from fi6pov after the 
analogy of other place names which come from the names of 
plants common in their neighbourhood. The numbers of these 
is a remarkable feature in the topography of Greece. 

400 Suttiwarifs of Fortiqn KetincM. 


ItKvrE i>E i/Histoii:k i>ks Kemgion8 (No 6, 189S.)- 
A. Hartlfs ^ niillotin dos Keliiiions tie I'Inde' is continued in 
niiinlKT. and (>ocu|ii(>s t)u* fir>t place. The publications 1 
siiiDiiiarisrd and critirally judtriMl are those recently issued d 
in^ with Huildhi>m. Thi* list of such publications — books 
ma^a/iiir arti(*l(*s of cdiisidoraldo merit — is a very large one, 
is indirativi* of tht* widt' iiitcrt*st taken in this religion and 
historv, and of the nunihcr of scholars of various countries ' 
arc contri)>iiting to advance our knowledge lK)th of the relij 
it Sf If and of the influences it has exercised, or is said to li 
«'\i*nMsiMl, on the intellectual life of both east and west, 
f^arth's * HuIIetins* are cxtn»uiely serviceable as guides to all ^ 
:in" engaired in sueh studies, for they not only bring together 
titlt>s of the works puhlislied, but give us a criti«.'al apprecial 
of them by one who by his special knowledge of the subjec 
adniirablv fitted to speak with authority. — Another *Bufle1 
appe; rs in this number also. It is M. Pierre Paris' Bull 
nrr/i/n/ oi^juf* lit* la Rt'liiion (trecque^ a summary of the w 
effected l>y the various ardiaeological societies engaged in exes 
tions and n*searches on the classic ground of Hellas, and of 
publications in which these are chronicled, or the resi 
drscrlbed. Dr. Albert Keville contributes the first part of 
artich* ' les Herodeset le reve Ilerodien.' This first part is tal 
u]) with a sketch of the events which led to the intrusion 
Antipater into the political affairs of Judsea, and then of 
steps taken by Herod to secure and agirrandise his position in 
State. The dream which fired his brain, and which he k 
ste.'idilv before him, though unrevealed to anv. Dr. R^v 
thinks, was the mastery of Home itself, and our author propo 
to ost'.iblish this bv a series of cumulative evidences drawn fr 
what we know of the man and his historv. — M. G. Bonet-Mau 
one of the French re])R*sentatives at, or deputies to, the ' Pari 
ment of Religions * at the recent World's Fair at Chica 
continues here his descriptive summary of the papers read, a 
the debates wliich folh>wed these. His report is concluded he 
and furnishes us with an excelK»nt resume of the proceedings, a 
a modest f«>recast of the probable results of such a newdeparti 
in religious ])olicy as that enterprise was. — M. Philippe Berg 
the successor of M. E. Kenan in the Chair of Hebrew a 
Oriental I^anguages at the College de France, has put his op 
ing lecture at liis installation to office at the service of the ear 
of this Revue, In this lecture he not only pays an eloque 
tribute of homage to his predecessor, but gives an extreme 
interesting history of the Chair itself, and its varied fortai 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews, 401 

since it was instituted by Fran9ois I. in 1530, up to the present 
hour. The burden of the lecture is, however, M. Renan him- 
self, his literary life and labours, and will be read with almost as 
much pleasure by students of his works as it was listened to by 
those who had studied under him in his class room, or were in 
the circle of his familiar friends, and who were present on that 
occasion to pay respect to his memory, and welcome one as his 
successor so fitted by scholarship and sympathy, to carry on his 
work in the same spirit and with almost equal devotion, as M. 
Berger is. M. Berger has been Professor of Hebrew at the 
Faculte de Theologie, in Paris, for the last sixteen years, and his 
monumental ' Histoire de I'^criture dans I'antiquit^ ' placed him 
recently in the first rank of European philologists and orientalists. 

Revue des Religions (No. 1, 1894.) — Apart from the always 
full and cosmopolitan ' Chronique,' which is an interesting and 
distinguishing feature of this Revue, there are only two articles 
in this number, one, the first of a series to be devoted to the 
history and exposition of Mohammedanism, and the other a 
continuation of Dr. Peisson's dissertations on Chinese relictions 
and sacred books. The first of these two articles is anonymous. 
Its author is described as ' un Professeur de Grand Seminaire.' 
The section of the series that appears here is of a purely intro- 
ductory character. We have first a description of the country 
in which Mahommedanism took its rise, its mountains and \ralleys, 
its deserts and pasture grounds, its climate, the races that inhabit 
it, its vegetation and general products. The second part is taken 
up with an historical resumi of the Semitic race and character, 
and then of the Arabs in particular, to whom Islam first ad- 
dressed itself. Here we have described to us the social condition, 
customs, and political constitutions under which the Arab clans 
lived, and live ; their intellectual status weighed, and their tastes 
and pursuits detailed. — In the second article Dr. Peissen treats 
rf Confucianism, dealing with the opinions formed of it by mis- 
sionaries and cultured visitors, or residents, and by philosophic 
students who have turned their attention to it. The outlines of 
the system are then sketched and its leading doctrines examined 
and tested in the light of modern, and especially of Catholic 

Revue Celtique (Janvier, 1894). — The first place is de- 
servedly given to the continuation of the series of articles be- 
gun in the previous number by M. D'Arbois de Jubainville, on 
the ' Celts in Spain.' Here, besides identifying many of the 
places they inhabited, by means of the local names still in use, 
and numerous passages occurring in Ptolemy, Appian, Strabo, 

XXIII. 26 

402 Summaries of Foreign Reviewi. 

(*;i!Mir, iiiid others, bit f^veB an account of their fortoni 
iii^ and uitrr the* SiM'ond Punic War, and shows the aasi 
thf*y ri'ndered bi»th to the Itomans and the Carthaginiani 
article is as iisuul full of research, and abundantly instr 
— M. Nt*ttlau continues his transcript of the fragment 
Hain (>V> Cuailnge ironi the K^erton MS. — M. Dottin gi 
a(x'(»unt (»f a valuabh* Irish MS. preserved in the Ma 
Library* at Ketnies. it originally formed part of the I 
Christopher-Paul do Kobien, Viscount de Plaintel, whic 
tained more than 4,i)(X) volumes, of which G2 were mani: 
and came into the possession of the Municipality duri 
Kevolution. The MS. in question was exammed by th 
brated Irish siOioIar, Dr. James II. Todd, in 1867, whc 
wards described it in the Proceedings of the Royal 
Academy ( V(»l. I., tWI-Sl ). The contents are tor the moi 
religi(»us, such as h(»milies, theological treatises, and i 
tion of sentences from tlio Fathers. There are also li 
fragments of lives of SS. Hridget, Brendan, and Colma 
a collection of legends in pro.v:e and verse on the geogra 
names (»f Ireland: alsit mu Irish vei'sion of the Voyages 
John Maudeville. — The 'Melanges' is unURually full and 
esting. M. Loth has some valuable notes on a num 
(Vltic words, and on (lodfrey of Monmouth and the B 
LandafT. — M. S. Reinach contributes a note ontheCassit 
— In the bibliographic I.>r, Kuno Meyer returns again 
( VUrady's * Silva Gadelica ; ' this time with a still heavi 
of corrections. — Tlio Clironique contains, among many 
things, a brief but iughly appreciative notice of the Rev, 
Warr.'n's recently publisiied *Antiphonary of Bangor,' a< 
ing to the ililanese MS. 

Kkvik i>ks Dki'X Mt)Xl)i:s (January, February). — I 
number bearing date of the 11th of January, the op 
article is a section of the late M. Kenan's 'History of the . 
It deals with the Jews under the Roman dominion. In n 
it is a sketch of the reign of Herod, of whom a very vig 
but by no means flattering portrait is given, but, to the 
whose crimes M. Kenan does not add that of having wis! 
kill the child Jisus. According to him, Jesus was not 
when Herod d'cd. — M. Ai-thur Desjardins contributes a 
able paper entitled ' Socialism and Liberty.' It is el 
rcasonea, ami most suggestive. Its leading idea is that s 
ism is rt»ally antagonistic to political liberty. — Fror 
Augustin Kilon there is an article on the House of Lordi 
is interesting as giving the views of an intelligent and 
informed foreigner, and M. Filon's opinion is that Mr. i 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 403 

stoDe has renewed the youth of the House of Lords. — In con- 
tinuation of his West Indian Sketches, M. de Varigny gives an 
account of life and manners in Cuba and Puerto Rico. — In this 
and the next number, M. Maurice Bigeon has a literary essay 
on the works of three Scandinavian novelists, Jonas Lie, Her- 
man Bang, and Arne Garborg. — In the mid-monthly number, 
M. Gaston Boissier re-appears with one of his interesting and 
scholarly antiquarian and classical studies. On the present 
occasion he describes Africa as it was under Roman rule. The 
study is continued in the number for the 15th February, where 
a particularly valuable account of Carthage will be found — An 
interesting question, that of 'Anachronism in Art/ is discussed 
by M. Robert de La Sizeranne. — The first of February brings 
a long article, headed, ' Armed Peace and its Consequences.' 
The anonymous author, with considerable force and earnest- 
ness, shows that the immense armaments of Europe must have 
OTie of two results. They must either lead to a disastrous war, 
of which the horrors and the consequences would be un- 
paralleled in history, or they must in the long run, ruin the 
nations which maintain them. His own opinion seems to in- 
cline to the former of these eventualities. — In the same num- 
ber there is also an exceedingly able and impartial literary 
essay on Tocqueville. It bears the signature of M. Emile 
Faguet, a name which in itself affords a guarantee of excel- 
lence both as regards matter and manner. — A sketch of Ger- 
many, as M. Mich el et saw it in 1842, and an article on castes 
in India also afford interesting but not engrossing reading. — 
In the last of the numbers before us the contribution which 
first attracts attention is the article on which M. Leclerc deals 
with education in England. It is chiefly notable for the con- 
trast which it draws between the French and English systems, 
and the preference which, on the whole, he shows for the 
latter. — Most of the other articles are continued from former 
numbers, the exceptions being a philosophical paper by M. 
Fouillee, on character and intellect, and an account by M. 
Joseph Bedier of the work of the Old French Text Society. 

Revue Philosophique (February, March). — The first of 
these two numbers contains only two original papers. One of 
them, contributed by Dr. P. Janet, gives, under the title, 
* Histoire d'une id6e fixe,' a long, detailed, and thorough his- 
tory of a case in which the patient was possessed by a fixed 
idea — the dread of cholera. The other shows how the well- 
known law of inertia applies to psychological no less than to 
physical phenomena. — The * Revue G^n^rale,* which is a long 
article, extending over 25 pages, deals with a number of re- 

404 Sumfiiaries of Foreign Reviews. 

n-iit works on tlu* in'story and philoRophv of religion. Axn 
tltt'ni may be notireil PrnfcsHor (Jaird's * The £volati< 
Kili^ion,* and Proti*srt(»r Ilnxley 8 * Science and Religion.' 
writir irt M, Mauri i*e Vernes, — The second number openc 
a p.-ipcr headtd, ' Itisearehcs on the Kehitious between I 
tivi iie.<s and Kniotion.' The result arrived at by the wr 
that, it iH in the eortieal vano-niotor centre, a centre n< 
(Ii'tiTiniiu'd, hut which must he situated in the vicinity < 
8<iiSMri:il iL'iitrt'S, and he in rehition with the central gan{ 
that the nhenonieiion of emotion is elaborated. — The qu 
ot' 'M<iral Sanction* iH discuKsed in a long article bearic 
si;;naturu of M. F. Paulham, wl)ose study is not, howevei 
chnhd in the present part. — The *Revue Critique ' consdde: 
n''W Works im Descartes. 

L'Akt fFehnnirj% Mai-ch). — The raost important con 
tinn to the February part is M. Foucart's sketch of the 
years of Pater, the pupil of Watteau, an artist who is p< 
best kn(»wn in connection with his illustrations of Sec 
* Roman Cimiique,* and of La Fontaine's * Coutes.' — Tl: 
also an exceedingly able study of the works of Haffet, th< 
known painter, who devoted liis genius almost exclnsii; 
tile ilhistration of the exploits of the French army. — ^Th 
m(»nthly number deals with early {Scandinavian Art. — A 
]>aper on ' Th(5odore CInisseviau/ and various artistio and 
atic letters nnike up the remaining contents. — The first 
two numbera for March has a well-illustrated par 
Japanese art. Its chief item, however, is an article on * \\ 
fIa(*ob Delir,' in illustration of which over a dozen excell< 
in»nln('tions of portraits engraved by him, after paintin 
ilierevelt, are given. — The remaining number is chiefly 
uj) of short and rather scrappy papers, readable enough, 
no special interest. 

Le Monde Latix et le Monde Slave (February, Mai 
Exclusively of the various * courriers,' or letters, whicb 
up a good half of each number, this review has on 
articles and a serial, all continued from one number 
other. Of the articles, that ou Tolstoi* is of considera 
terest ; it is well written, and contains a very ina 
appreciation of the Russian writer's worka — The other 
bution is devoted to some of the most brilliant of Nap« 
cavalry officers. 

Kevue des Etudes Juives (No. 4, 1893).— The first j 
given here to the continuation of the late M. Loeb's t 
on the emancipation of the Jews from the political an* 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews. 405 

disabilities under which they so long lay in every country in 
Europe. The title of the article gives however no indication of 
the nature of its contents. It is merely headed * Reflexions sur 
les Juifs.' This section of the treatise is wholly historical. It 
goes over the various countries in Europe, and the independent 
States within some of these, and describes the various move- 
ments that finally led up to the complete or partial emancipa- 
tion of the Jewish communities residing within their bounds. 
It is a curious and interesting history, and M. Loeb was at 
great pains to make his account of it as full and precise as 
possible. The causes that initiated most of the movements 
are here traced, and the results of them, where they were 
wholly or only in part successful, are set forth. Only in two 
countries was complete emancipation conceded all at once, 
viz., in Holland and in France. In all other countries compro- 
mises of various kinds were adopted; certain concessions were 
made, to be withdrawn shortly afterwards, or to be followed 
by still larger concessions until, as in England, every legal 
disability was removed. M. Loeb convincingly shows that 
the emancipation of the Jews everywhere was not only 
deserved by the Jews in the various lands of their adoption, 
but has proved of the greatest advantage to these latter in 
every way. — Most of the articles that follow are of much less 
general interest, though historically valuable, or of importance 
to those deeply versed in Rabbinic lore. We may mention 
the titles of them here, in order to give what space we have 
at our disposal, to the article that stands at -the end of this 
number, and which is more likely to attract general attention. 
'L'Afikire Bourgeois, 1652,' by M. Israel Levi; * Jacob Man- 
tini/ continued from last number, by M. D. Kaufmann; * Gloses 
ronianes dans des ecrits rabbiniques,' by M. Immanuel Loew ; 
'Influence de Raschi et d'autres commentateurs juifs sur les 
Postillce perjyetuce de Nicolas de Lyre,' by M. Neumann ; ' Les 
troupes de Mar^chal de Belle-Ifele et les Juifs du Comtat- 
Venaissin,' by M. J. Bauer. Under 'Notes et Melanges,' come 
shorter papers on 'L'emploi du lamed en arameen biblique 
devant le complement direct,' by M. M. Lambert; and ' Saadia 
et Iliwi Albalchi,' by M. Kaufmann. — The article which closes 
this number, and appears under ' Actes et Conferences,' is a 
Lecture delivered by M. Jean R6ville before the Soci6t6 des 
Etudes Juives, on November 23rd, 1893. It is entitled ' La 
Resurrection d'une Apocalypse — Le Livre d'Henoch.' M. 
Reville here first differentiates an apocalypse from all the other 
literature that comes under the title of Revelation, and regards 
those preserved to us as of very exceptional value, as dis- 
closing the circumstances of the times in which they were 

40(» SummarifB of Foreign Seviewt. 

I)r(»iIii€*(Ml, and the (ln*nin8 aiul hopes cherished by at le 
ar^t* chisH c»f tin* tliinkcrs and spiritual leaders amonf 
,l«*\viHh. or «lowish-('hriHtinn people. ' Apocalypses^' he 
art* tc»r iih valiiuble teHtitinuiieN of the puHt, not of a past i 
iVrt-nt t(i US, or whirh docs nt»t aflfect uh, but of a past iu '^ 
the roots nf all that is host in vour faith and mine, of all ^ 
is iiiMHt nt*ar, h'viii^ and sarreti in our moral being, were re 
- (if a past with which an* most directly connected our 
and i>ur hif'tit-st hopes.' — M. .1. Keville spiritedly defende 
writers of these apocalypses from the charge of falsehoo 
onr modern sense 4»f the tenn, because they attributed 
Works to the revered l)eroeR of a hoary antiquity, or to xn< 
whoni tradition assigned conspicuous virtues in time 
troidile. Till* tnith <»t which they were assured and w 
thry longed to eommunieate was in their eyes everyt] 
Thry thf nisei ves were not of the slightest importance^ 
them tilt* message alont* was of importance, and their one 
absorbing aim was to get that message listened to, an< 
conns* I aTid coinfort accepted. And M. Reville dryly c 
* \Vc kimw more than one of our contemporaries who w 
iifver write a line under such conditions, because the onl; 
tenstiiig thiiig to them in what they write is that it is wri 
by themselves.* ()(»ming to the Apocalypse of Enoch, he st 
the repute Enoch enjoyed in the legendary lore (»f the Hebr 
and liow natural it therefore was that the authors of i 
visions should fix on him, and put their works forward as 
Many did this and several of their works have, because fc 
ing 1 1 is name, been combined to form the one that has 1 
J n*t served to us. They were written originally in the Heb 
or in the more popular Aramaic, but were speedily transL 
into (Jreck, and in the (Jreek tongue had a wide circulai 
'i'hat version, us well as the original, in the course of time 
appeared, and the work in any form was long thought to 1: 
lueii lost for ever. Two copies of the Apocalypse, h 
ever, in the Ethiopic tongue were found by Mr. Bruce, 
Scottish traveller, in 1773, in Abyssinia, and M. Reville 1 
details the history of the discoveries and translations of 
work since, culminating in that of 1886-87 of a part of 
(ireek text in a tomb at Akhmiu. He then gives a sumrr 
of the contents of the Apocalypse itself, and a critical ap 
ciation of its importance, as showing the currents of thou 
prevailing in the Jewish community prior to the birth 

Revue Semitique d'Epigraphie et d'Histoire Anoiej 

(No. 1, 1894). — M. J. HaMvy continues here his * Notes f 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews, 407 

rinterpretation des Psaumes.' It is Psalm vii. whicb he sub- 
jects in this number to a minute and critical examination. The 
text of this Psalm has also, he thinks, sufifered from the mistakes 
of copyists, and the unwise emendations of redactors, though not 
to such an extent as so many of the others. Where, however, 
obscurity exists, he sets himself to find out the probable cause — 
the mistake in transcription, as it may be, on the part of the 
former, or the blunder committed by the latter. In the title or 
heading of the Psalm, the word * Shiggaion ' has proved some- 
what perplexing. M. Halevy thinks that, as the word was the 
name of a musical instrument, it may also have been given to 
the kind of song which that instrument was used to accompany. 
Guided by the Assyrian word segu, a ^ prayer,' and by the nature 
of the two Psalms that are headed ' Shiggaion,' he thinks this 
term was applied to such prayer-songs as, in gentle, plaintive 
strains, expressed confidence in personal rectitude, and the 
assured hope of a speedy return of good fortune. He suggests 
some corrections in the text of verses 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7. The mis- 
takes in copying (if they be mistakes) were likely enough to be 
made, and the corrections offered are at least happy ones. Be- 
tween verse 7 and verse 8 there is an unexpected break in the 
continuity of thought, which, he says, no exegetic artifice has as 
yet succeeded in removing. The solution of the difficulty which 
he offers is this — only his argument should be read in his own 
words before judgment is pronounced on it. Some verses have 
been accidentally omitted in transcription here, and these omitted 
verses have been placed at the beginning of the next Psalm, or 
after the close of this one. These verses are out of place where 
they now are. Inserted, however, (if verse 2 is omitted which 
does not belong to them) between verse 7 and verse 8 of this 
Psalm, harmony is restored to both Psalms. That is, verses 1, 3, 
and 4 of Psalm viii. formed originally part of Psalm vii., and 
stood after verse 7. This procedure may seem arbitrary, but 
M. Halevy gives weighty reasons for what he here suggests. 
The whole Psalm is gone over in this same critical spirit, and 
then a translation of it, as amended by him is given, with the 
omitted verses replaced. — The next article is the continuation of 
his transcriptions and translations of the Tel-el-Amarna Corres- 
pondence Tablets. The letters here given are all from those in 
the possession of the British Museum, and the numbers under 
which they are catalogued there are given for identification and 
comparison. — In a third article, which is in connection wdth his 
studies of the two Hittite or Hetean Inscriptions, found re- 
cently at Zindjirli, he sets before us what these inscriptions 
teach us as to the religious ideas entertained by that ancient 

40^ SumtnurM of Fortitju Reviews, 

SMiiitir ]»iM»}ilc — the* ^(mIs tlK*y worahippeJ and their beliefs i 
a future .Ntato. Uiuicr the fust tfoction, headed M^anthten, 
tuki*s the di'itii'.sim*iiti(>ni*4l in the in.scriptionHf^riutini.andezani 
thrir nunu'.s and attrihutes, i*om|>aring them, where they i 
already known to us from Scripture or elsewhere, with whi 
tlu-re said of them. Some of these deities were, howeveFi hitfa 
unknown to the Semi tie student. In the second section, hex 
* Kv-hatolu^ie,* he ^ives a brief account of his earlier effort 
viiiilicatt* for the ilews the knowledge of or the belief in a fa 
lift*, wiiere virtue finds its rewards in blessedness, and vici 
puiiishnients for its inicpiities. Then he shown how these 
script inns eorroh(»iute his early contentions, though they \ 
scouted liy siu'ii fitcaittt* as Kenan and J. Derenbourg as ab: 
and ridiculous. In an a])|>iMidix, he notices at considerable lei 
th<' recent work of Herr All)re('ht Dieterich — ' Be it rage 
Erkliirunix der neuendeckten I Vtr us apocalypse,' — and shows 
the (ireek eonrcptions (»f the future life were related to t 
eiitertained by the ancient Egyptians and Babylonians. — AJ 
lluart, untl.-r the title 'Epi^ra|>hie arahe d'A>ie Mineure,' gi\ 
numhi-r of inscriptions discovered there, and which belong to 
times of the Seljukians. Thev arc accompanied by translat 
and notes. — M. A. Boissier has a short paper on 'Nebukadu 
1*^' — M. IVrruchon continues his *Jsotes pour THistoir 
Ethiope/ and M. •!. Ilalevy prints the text of an inscriptioi 
a sacropliaiTus in the Museum at Gizeh — ' Une Inscrip 
mineenne yravee sur un sarcophage 6gj*ptien' — with transia 
and notes. 


Hir.LiuTirK(,»rK Universellk et Re\'ue Suisse (Jann 
Fel»rua ry, .March). — The first of these three numbers o] 
with a paper in which JI. Puniest Naville indicates the ] 
words adopted by the French Academy. The writei 
scarcely needs to be said, docs not limit himself to a n 
enumeration ; he ^ives interest to his investigation by poin: 
out the circumstances to which the new terms owe their or 
and their popularity, and thus to a certain extent makes 
study of words a study of the development of civilization.- 
this and the next number, il. Uenri Jacottet gives an accc 
of the Chicago Exhibition. The article has the merit of be 
well and brightly written, which, considering all that 
already been said on the subject, is perhaps the only meri 
which it could aspire. — The evolution of politeness is made 
subject of an interesting essay by M. Leo Quesnel, who 

Summaries of Foreign Reviews, 409 

only indicates the various forms and formulas which have ob- 
tained, and still obtain, in civilized and uncivilized countries, 
but also the sentiments upon which they are founded, and to 
which they originally gave expression.— The last item, not in- 
cluding light literature, which is well represented, or the usual 
and delightful chroniques, is a sketch entitled Ellen Keller. It 
is based on the American work, ' Helen Keller : Souvenir of 
the first Summer Meeting of the American Association to pro- 
mote the teaching of speech to the deaf,' and gives an account 
of the education of a deaf, dumb, and blind girl. — In the Febru- 
ary part, M. Emile Yung heads the contents with a paper in 
which he indicates the scope and the method of comparative 
psychology, that science which has for its object to utilise the 
lower animals for psychological research in the same way as 
they have been utilized for the solution of anatomical and 
physiological problems. — In an article of very general interest, 
M. C. Biihrer gives an account of the working of meteorological 
ofiices, and enables the reader to understand what an immense 
amount of both labour and expense it entails to produce the 
daily ' weather reports ' with which he is so familiar, and of 
which he does not always appreciate the. value. — M. Auguste 
Glardon again devotes an article to contemporary English 
novelists; this time, however, the English novelist is American, 
to wit, Mary Wilkins, the author of, amongst others, ' A 
Humble Romance,' *A far away Melody,' and * A New-England 
Nun/ — March brings, as the first contribution to a most read- 
able number, a sketch of the career of the late General Herzog, 
who for thirty years was at the head of the Confederate army 
establishment. It is interesting throughout, but particularly in 
those parts which relate how he acquitted himself of the deli- 
cate duties thrown upon him by the Franco-German War. — 
The life and work of the Hindoo woman is dealt with at con- 
siderable length by M. V. de Floriant, in an article which, 
though interesting in itself, and for those to whom the sub- 
ject may be new, will not have much novelty for English 
readers. Indeed, it is founded on works with which many of 
them may be assumed to be fairly familiar, such as Lady 
Dufierin's 'Our Vice-regal Life,' Mrs. Dale's 'Biography of Mrs. 
Joshee,' and Mrs. Chapman's ' Some Distinguished Indian 
Women.' — 'Le Bilan de la Politique Europeenne,' is a valuable 
political article in which M. Ed. Tallichet reviews the political 
situation. It is, on the whole, characterized by an optimistic 
spirit, and altogether at variance with the opinions of those 
who anticipate national complications in the near future. 

410 Stun ma riff of Foreitjn Herietet, 


La KsrANA Modkkna — li^'viMta de Enpaila — (January.) — 1 
lU'w tall* liv Kiiiilia Tardo Hazaii^ entitk*d 'Adam and £ve 
cMiiniurtuvs in the tianunrv number. There is a * prologue ii 
lioivcn * in a vitv fin tie fitcle spirit, and the lady otherwise write 
with a fn*iMliiin wi* art* not yet accustooied to. — An article oi 

* Kxpln-iiws* liy Ei'ht*;»aray is well written and cleverly 8ug 
^(vstiw.— A nntii'i* of till' life and works of * Jose Maria Quad 
rail' t«i hv an intnuiuction to his publishing works, introduce 
us to a ])rrsi»niility lirtli* known hfps although a vol uminoiii 
and abit* writfr f>t' Palina (It* Mallorca. — Some curious auc 
intrp stifi;^ ii«iticfsrt»«;anlin^ l>(»n Quixote are brought together 
hjiiim' such as L^pL* (h? V<*;4jaH preliminary criticiRm — ait 
(lillirult to I'Nplain. — *Tlie Conquest of Melilla in 1497 ' is ar 
intf n-stinj^ histmir papir of a little known region. The causae 
of its iion-fxti-iisjitii, to include all Mauritania to the Atlac 
Mountains, at tlii* tiin«' ot Spain's splendour, is well explained. 
—'Anarchy and Sori:il detcnre' propones that all this clase 
who inav he honest I v sodalistic should be sent to some out of 
the way island, tj> work out th(Mr own no-system, where they 
(*an do no harm to anv but themselves — Castelar cannot 
understand h(»w the Fniieh Ministry coquettes with socialism, 
and he quotes appro vin;;ly (.■levehuuV 8 saying, that individuals 
should support and feed the State, not the State individuala' 
lb' rttei*s to the au^jrmentation of the British fleet as not 
neiM-ssary, e«»nsi(lering our iniquestionable superiority. — The 

* Literary Inqu'essions * of Ville^as are good. He may place the 
work of Kchcgaray, the dramatist, too high, but he writes with 
kjiowled.t;*', and the Spanish drama can compare favourably 
with any. 'J'here is more real power and human sympathy 
in K(h(*^aray than in Ibsen, undoubtedly. — A Catalogue of 
New Works in Sj)anish completes a national number, that has 
only (fladstone's j)aper cm Blanco White to make it otherwise. 
— (February). — 'Adam and Eve' is continued, with much of 
that j)r()vincial dialect that renders our modern writers in all 
bui^uages somewhat diflicult to read, for those who only know 
the elassic speech. Compoamor's distiches comprise such 
sayings as 

* SIio only th()ii<^ht of him, but now alio is his spouse, 
^^he speaks witli hiui -but her thoughts are elsewhere,' 

trifling little fancies for the most part. — *The loves of the 
King Don Alfonso XII.' is a little insight into a Spanish 
romance. — Echegaray continues his paper on 'Explosives,' 
written -with picturesque effect. — ' Torquemada in La Cruz ' is 
not the famous inquisitor, but a novel by Gald68, one of the 

J. «»- 1 ■>«- 

Summaries of Foreign Reci&ws, 411 

most capable of Spanish creative authors. It is a story of 
modern customs, new characters of to-day, and is here very 
fully criticised and quoted. — The Medical jury and the case 
of Varela/ is a careful consideration of a now notable case in 
Madrid, where the cause of the * culpable homicide ' was argued 
by medicals with very unsatisfactory results. — ^ The Standard 
and Chests of Oquendo ' recalls the glories of the generations of 
those great sea captains, who gave their services to their father- 
land — Historical figures all. — Castelar's'International Chronicle' 
regrets the frustration ^ of a measure so much desired in the 
world, as the indispensable autonomy of the Irish people.' He 
looks dolorously upon Austria, and considers Servia a thorn in 
its side. — ' Literary Impressions ' speaks in high terms of the 
dramatic work of Galdos, *La de San Quintin,' which was 
received with enthusiasm by his countrymen. — Other new 
novels are noted. — An extensive critical review of recent issues, 
a continuation of Gladstone's * Blanco White,' and a list of new 
works, complete a number that continues markedly national. 
— (March). — ' Spain in the Bible,' by the Bishop of Oricdo, is 
an interesting and exhaust