the utmost respect, the disadvantages would overbalance the advantages. The construction of a tunnel under the Straits of Dover would give a great impetus to commerce. Vast quantities of merchandise could be conveyed both ways, directly from the seats of manufactures to the towns of the Continent and Great Britain, without the vast trouble and expense of moving them from trains to ships, and from ships to trains again. Much larger quantities of goods could also be carried at one time in a train, than in an ordinary channel packet or sailingvessel. Thus the cost of export and import would be considerably reduced, and most articles produced on one side of the channel could be sold on the other much cheaper than at present. Facilities for visiting the Continent would be greatly increased by the existence of a tunnel. The discomforts of the sea passage to France are proverbial, and deter many from visiting the Continent at all, while many others visit it less often than they otherwise would. The same reasons prevent foreigners from coming to England. If it were possible for a person to pass from London to Paris, Berlin, Vienna, or Rome, without change of carriage, the encouragement to continental travelling would be incalculable. Increased intercourse with the Continent would give great pleasure to the inhabitants of Great Britain, and would lead to many other advantages. We have already learnt much from foreign nations, and should learn much more if they were more readily visited. We have a reputation, in some measure deserved, for insular pride and prejudice, and nothing would tend more to remove this failing than continental travel. Nor should we reap these advantages without giving anything in return. Foreigners have learnt much from us, and they would be greatly benefited if they learnt more. The more widely English ideas of freedom are dispersed, the better for us, and for the world in general. These are some of the benefits which would undoubtedly F accrue from the existence of a direct railway route between England and the Continent. But the subject has another side, which we now proceed to consider. The question arises—Would the construction of a tunnel endanger our national safety? Military authorities of the highest eminence tell us that it would. This is not in the slightest degree a question of cowardice, as though it were a disgrace to be afraid of France, or of any other nation. It is rather a question of whether it is worth while for us to change all the national habits to which we have grown accustomed for many generations, and to adopt the customs and practices of the Continent. Military men tell us that it would be impossible to ensure this end of the tunnel from every risk of surprise, and that the existence of such a passage would render us liable to sudden panics at any time when the political relations between us and France were at all clouded. In short, this country, instead of relying, as it does now, mainly on its fleet, would feel bound to increase its military armaments, till they had been brought into due proportion with those of the Continent. At present France, Germany, and Russia groan under the military burdens which a mutual fear of each other imposes on them; they stand always armed to the teeth, and their citizens are drawn away from the peaceful pursuits of industry and civilization in order to be in a constant state of preparation for contingencies which may arise at almost any moment. Continent. Our The arguments of military men seem unanswerable. armies are not sufficiently numerous to cope with those of the We do not wish to be under the necessity of making them so. Even if no real danger should arise from the existence of the tunnel, it would probably be impossible to persuade the people of the truth of such a statement, and before long they would be likely to demand either the destruction of the tunnel, or an enormous augmentation of our military forces. England is the sacred home of freedom, the classic land of liberty. She has more than once been the last refuge of free dom, which she alone has preserved for herself and for the world. For her own sake and for that of other nations she may again have to defy the united power of continental tyranny, and when the day of trial comes, Heaven grant that she may not find herself enfeebled by having foolishly linked herself with the enemy. 25. ON BIOGRAPHY. Lives of great men all remind us Footprints on the sands of time.-Longfellow. Biography is naturally allied to History. Both give us an account of human beings, their growth, sentiments, and actions. But whilst biography deals with individuals, history treats of whole nations. Both teach us useful lessons on the subject of mankind, but their teachings are presented in different ways. Biography tells us of one person, his origin, his development, his trials, his failures, his successes. History, on the other hand, takes a wider field. Despising such minute details as biography usually presents, it tells us of the rise, the progress, the downfall of whole kingdoms, of vast empires. The life and death of a single ordinary individual-nay, the life and death of millions—is often passed by with little or no notice. Notwithstanding the greater ostentation and brilliancy of history, it is at least possible that biography is the more instructive. Many are the useful lessons that may be learnt from following the life of one person from the cradle to the grave, to watch the development of his mind and character, to observe the way in which he attained to eminence, or sank into misery. Where he succeeded, we may take an example; where he failed, we may take warning, and avoid the cause of failure. The lives of both good and bad men, faithfully written, may well serve as beacons to warn us from the rocks and shoals which beset the voyage of life, and to guide our passage into the haven of safety and rest. For several reasons which are not difficult to discover, there are very few good biographies in the world. The materials are often difficult or even impossible to obtain. The incidents in a person's life, and various points in his character, are frequently unknown to his most intimate friends. Many persons are even imperfectly acquainted with themselves. The exhortation, "know thyself,” has not been needlessly addressed to mankind, for real self-knowledge is a very rare acquirement, even with those who are accounted wise. Then again, the records of a man's youth, the time when his character was being moulded, are usually extremely imperfect. They relate to a time when he had not attained to eminence, and no one has thought it worth while to preserve them. Besides, when a man has departed from the world, and the time has come for his biography to be written, those who knew him as a youth have also vanished from their places, and can give no information. Even letters and other written memorials of the early portion of his life are necessarily scanty and unimportant. The materials generally used for depicting the life of an individual are his letters, and reminiscences of his life and conversation supplied by friends and relatives. Supposing these to be forthcoming in abundance, it by no means follows that a good biography will result. The letters may, like those of Pope, be of an artificial character, written with a kind of consciousness that they will one day be given to the world, and therefore carefully prepared for public inspection. The information rendered by persons acquainted with the subject of the biography may be consciously or unconsciously coloured with the particular bias of the person who gives it. The writer of the biography may make an unskilful use of his materials. He may be a bad judge of human character; his selection of the matter to be published, and of that to be suppressed, may be very injudicious. He may be prejudiced in favour of the person about whom he is writing, especially as an intimate friend of the deceased is generally the one who is selected to write his life. The persons about whom biography treats are not always those whose lives are most fraught with instruction. Biography usually relates the lives of eminent individuals, those raised by genius or success far above the heads of the ordinary throng. These are not always the persons whose careers offer the largest amount of interest and edification to general readers. Simple narratives of the quiet and humble lives of ordinary individuals are often worth more than the records of the brilliant deeds of heroes and philosophers. Few indeed are the really good biographical works possessed by the world. In our own country we are fortunate enough to possess Boswell's "Life of Dr. Johnson," in which we have the career of a good and great man depicted in colours which bear an unmistakable appearance of truth. Lockhart's "Life of Scott," written in a different style, is almost equally valuable. The late Dean Stanley's life of his old schoolmaster, Dr. Arnold, is an admirable work. In it we find depicted the highprincipled teacher, the large-hearted philanthropist, and the cultivated Christian gentleman. The "Life of Lord Macaulay," written by his nephew, George Otto Trevelyan, is replete with interest and instruction. Mr. Froude's life of Thomas Carlyle is a voluminous and interesting work concerning a writer who has filled a large and important place in modern literature. 26. MODES OF TRAVELLING. Scarcely anything is more characteristic of the present age than the ardent desire for travelling which pervades all classes of the community. Not many years ago, a journey from York to London was considered a most serious undertaking-one attended with great expense and risk. In our days such a journey is regarded as a mere pleasure trip, brought within the means of the humblest. Everybody seems to be in motion. The time predicted by Daniel, when “ many shall run to and fro" (xii. 4), seems really to have arrived. This growing desire for travelling has been attended and partly caused by a development of the means of locomotion. |