out spirit. Imperialism, if it could see itself, futile enough: but after all, this is but the is in fact a world of Sanchos, and it would symbolical garb of the Hebrew prophet. not be the less so if every Sancho of the We are in ancient Rome, not in the smokingnumber were master of the whole of physi- room of the House of Commons. We ara cal science and used it to cook his food. Of | among the countrymen, too, of Saronarola. the two court-poets of Cæsar's successor, one The character, as painted by Plutarch, who makes Cato preside over the spirits of the seems to have drawn from the writings of good in the Elysian fields, while the other contemporaries, is hard of course, but not speaks with respect, at all events, of the cynical. Cato was devoted to his brother soul which remained unconquered in a con- Cæpio, and when Cæpio died, forgot all his quered world, — “ Et cuncta terrarum sub- Stoicism in the passionate indulgence of his acta præter atrocem animum Catonis." | grief, and all his frugality in lavishing gold Paterculus, an officer of Tiberius and a and perfumes on the funeral. Cæsar in thorough Cæsarian, calls Cato a man of Anti-Cato accused him of sifting the ashes ideal virtue ("homo virtuti simillimus"), for the gold, which, says Plutarch, is like who did right not for appearance sake, but charging Ilercules with cowardice. Where because it was not in his nature to do the sensual appetites are repressed, what. wrong. When the victor is thus overawed

ever may be the theory of life, the affections by the shade of the vanquished, the van- are pretty sure to be strong, unless they are quished could hardly have been a "fool.” nipped by some such process us is underContemporaries may be mistaken as to the gone by a monk. Cato's resignation of his merits of a character, but they cannot well | fruitful wife to a childless friend, revolting be mistaken as to the space which it occu- as it is to our sense, betokens less any brupied in their own eyes. Sallust, the parti- tality in him than the coarseness of the consan of Marius and Cæsar, who had so much jugal relations at Rome. Evidently the reason to hate the senatorial party, speaks man had the power of touching the hearts of Cæsar and Cato as the two mightiest op- of others. His soldiers, though he gave posites of his time, and in an elaborate par- them no largesses and indulged them in no allel ascribes to Cæsar the qualities which license, when he leaves them, strew their secure the success of the adventurer ; to garments under his feet. His friends at Cato those which make up the character of Utica linger, at the peril of their lives, to the patriot. It is a mistake to regard Cato give him a sumptuous funeral. He affected the younger as merely an unseasonable conviviality, like Socrates. He seems to repetition of Cato the elder. His inspiration have been able to enjoy a joke, too, at his came not from a Roman form, but from a own expense. He can laugh when Cicero Greek school of philosophy, and from that ridicules his Stoicism in a speech; and school which, with all its errors and absurd when in a province he meets the inhabitants ities, and in spite of the hypocrisy of many of a town turning out, and thinks at first of its professors, really aimed highest in the that it is in his own honour, but soon finds formation of character; and the practical that it is in honour of a much greater man, teachings and aspirations of which, embod- the confidential servant of Pompey, at first ied in the reflections of Marcus Aurelius, it his dignity is outraged, but his anger soon is impossible to study without profound re- gives place to amusement. That his public spect for the force of moral conception and character was perfectly pure, no one seems the depth of moral insight which they some- to have doubted ; and there is a kindliness times display. Cato went to Greece to sit in his dealings with the dependents of at the feet of a Greek teacher in a spirit Rome, which shows that had he been an very different from the national pride of his emperor he would have been such an emancestor. It is this which makes his char- peror as Trajan,-a man whom he probably acter interesting, that it was an attempt at resembled, both in the goodness of his in all events to grasp and hold fast by the high tentions and in the limited powers of his rule of life, in an age when the whole moral mind. Impracticable, of course, in a certain world was sinking into a vortex of scoun- sense he was; but his part was that of a redrelism, and faith in morality, public or former, and to compromise with the corrupprivate, had been lost. Of course the char- tion against which he was contending, would acter is formal, and in some respects even have been to lose the only means of influgrotesque. But you may trace formalism, ence, which, having no military force and if you look close enough, in every life led by no party, he possessed, -that of the perfect a rule; in everything between the purest integrity of his character. He is said by spiritual impulse on the one side, and aban- Dr. Mommsen to have been incapable even doned sensuality on the other. Attempts of conceiving a policy. By policy I suspect to revive old Roman simplicity of dress and is meant one of those brilliant schemes of habit in the age of Lucullus were no doubt ambition with which some literary men are fond of identifying themselves, fancying, it larged into History of the English People, seems, that thereby they theinselves, after London, vols. i., ii., 1878, New York, vols. their measure, play the Cæsar. The policy i., ii., 1878; Readings from English History, which Cato conceived was simply that of 1879, 12mo. purifying and preserving the Republic. So far, at all events, he had an insight into the

SAAKSPERE'S LATER YEARS. situation, that he knew that the real malady With this great series of historical and of the state was want of public spirit, which social dramas, Shakspere had passed far he did his best to supply. And the fact is, beyond his fellows, whether as a tragedian that he did more than once succeed in a re- or as a writer of comedy. "The Muses,' markable way in stemming the tide of cor- said Meres, in 1598,"would speak with ruption. Though every instinct bade him Shakspere's finely-filed phraze, if they would struggle to the last, he had sense enough to speak English." . His personal popularity see the state of the case, and to advise that, was now at its height. His pleasant temper to avert anarchy, supreme power should be and the vivacity of his wit had drawn him put into the hands of Pompey, whose politi- early into contact with the young Earl of cal superstition, if not his loyalty, there was Souihampton, to whom his " Adonis" and good reason to trust. When at last civil “ Lucrece are dedicated ; and the different war broke out, Cato went into it like Falk-tone of the two dedications shows how rapland, crying.“ Peace!" he set his face stead- idly acquaintance ripened into an ardent ily against the excesses and cruelties of his friendship. Shakspere's wealth and influparty; and when he saw the field of Dyr-ence too were growing fast. He had proprhacium covered with his slain enemies, he erty both in Stratford and London, and his covered his face and wept. Ile wept, a Ro- fellow-townsmen made him their suitor to man over Romans, but humanity will not Lord Burleigh for favours to be bestowed refuse the tribute of his tears. After Phar- on Stratford. He was rich enough to aid salus he cherished po illusion, as Dr. Momm- his father, and to buy the house at Stratford sen himself admits; and though 'he deter- which afterwards became his home. mined himself to fall fighting, he urged no The tradition that Elizabeth was so pleased one else to resistance; he felt that the duty with Falstaff in “ Henry the Fourth” that of an ordinary citizen was done. His terri- she ordered the poet to show her Falstaff in ble march over the African desert showed love,-an order which produced the “Merry high powers of command, as we shall see by Wives of Windsor," — whether true or false, comparing it with the desert march of Na- proves his repute as a playwright. As the poleon. Dr. Mommsen ridicules his ped- group of earlier poets passed away, they antry in refusing, on grounds of loyalty, to found successors in Marston, Dekker, Midtake the commandership-in-chief over the dleton, lleywood, and Chapman, and above head of a superior in rank. Cato was fight- all in Ben Jonson. But none of these could ing for legality, and the spirit of legality dispute the supremacy of Shakspere. The was the soul of his cause. But besides this, verdict of Meres that “Shakspere among he had never himself crossed his sword with the English is the most excellent in both an enemy; and by declining the nominal kinds for the stage," represented the gencommand he retained the whole control. eral feeling of his contemporaries. Ile was He remained master to the last of the burn- at last fully master of the resources of his ing vessel. Our morality will not approve art. The • Merchant of Venice” marks the of his voluntary death; but our morality perfection of his development as a dramatist would give him a sufficient sanction for in the completeness of its stage effect, the living, even if he was to be bound to the ingenuity of its incidents, the ease of its car of the conqueror. Looking to Roman movement, the beauty of its higher passages, opinion, he probably' did what honour dic- the reserve and self-control with which its tated; and those who prefer honour to life poetry is used, the conception and unfolding are not so numerous that we can afford to of character, and above all the mastery with speak of them with scorn.

which character and event is grouped round Macmillan's Magazine, April, 1868. the figure of Shylock. Master as he is of

his art, the poet's temper is still young: the “Merry Wives of Windsor” is a burst of gay laughter; and laughter more tempered,

yet full of a sweeter fascination, rings round REV. JOHN RICHARD GREEN us in “ As You Like It."

But in the melancholy and meditative is the author of Stray Studies from Eng- Jaques of the last drama we feel the touch land and Italy, and A Short History of the of a new and graver mood. Youth, so full English People, Lond., 1875, sm. 8vo, en- and buoyant in the poet until now, seems

19

to have passed almost suddenly away, towered into almost superhuman grandeur. Though Shakspere had hardly reached Man became conscious of the immense reforty, in one of his Sonnets which cannot sources that lay within him, conscious of have been written at a much later time than | boundless powers that seemed to mock the this, there are indications that he already narrow world in which they moved. All felt the advance of premature age. And at through the age of the Renascence one feels this moment the outer world suddenly dark- the impress of the gigantic, this giant-like ened around him. The brilliant circle of activity, this immense ambition and desire. young nobles whose friendship he had shared The very bombast and extravagance of the was broken up in 1601 by the political storm times reveal cravings and impulses before which burst in a mad struggle of the Earl which common speech breaks down. It is of Essex for power. Essex himself fell on this grandeur of humanity that finds its the scaffold; his friend and Shakspere's poetic expression in the later work of Shakidol, Southampton, passed a prisoner into spere. As the poet penetrated deeper and the Tower; Herbert, Lord Pembroke, deeper into the recesses of the soul, he saw younger patron of the poet, was banished how great and wondrous a thing was man. from the Court. While friends were thus " What a piece of work is a man !'cries llamfalling and hopes fading without, Shak- let; " how noble in reason; how infinite in spere's own mind seems to have been going faculties ; in forin, and moving, how express through a phase of bitter suffering and un- and admirable! in action, how like an angel! rest. In spite of the ingenuity of commen- in apprehension, how like a god! the beauty tators, it is difficult and even impossible to of the world! the paragon of animals!" It derive any knowledge of Shakspere's inner is the wonder of man that spreads before us history from the Sonnets; "the strange as the poet pictures the wide speculation of imagery of passion which passes over the Hamlet, the awful convulsion of a great namagic mirror," it has been finely said, " has ture in Othello, the terrible storm in the soul no tangible evidence before or behind it." of Lear which blends with the very storm of But its mere passing is itself an evidence the heavens themselves, the awful ambition of the restlessness and agony within. The that nerved a woman's hand to dabble itself change in the character of bis dramas gives with the blood of a murdered king, the recka surer indication of his change of mood. less lust that “flung away a world for love." The fresh joyousness, the keen delight in Amid the terror and awe of these great life and in man, which breathes through dramas we learn something of the vast Shakspere's early work disappears in com- forces of the age from which they sprang. edies such as “ Troilus” and “Measure for The passion of Mary Stuart, the ruthlessMeasure.” Disappointment, disillusion, a ness of Alva, the daring of Drake, the chirnew sense of the evil and foulness that un-alry of Sidney, the range of thought and derlies so much of human life, a loss of the action in Raleigh or Elizabeth, come better old frank trust in its beauty and goodness, home to us as we follow the mighty series threw their gloom over these comedies of tragedies which began in “Ilamlet" and Failure seems everywhere. In “ Julius ended in “Coriolanus." Cæsar" the virtue of Brutus is foiled by its Shakspere's last dramas, the three esignorance of and isolation from mankind; quisite works in which he shows a soul at in Hamlet even penetrating intellect proves rest with itself, and with the world, “ Cymhelpless for want of the capacity of action ; beline," " The Tempest," " Winter's Tale,” the poison of Iago taints the love of Desde- were written in the midst of ease and commona and the grandeur of Othello ; Lear's petence, in a house at Stratford to which he mighty passion battles helplessly against withdrew a few years after the death of the wind and the rain ; a woman's weakness Elizabeth. In them we lose all relation of frame dashes the cup of her triumph with the world or the time and pass into a from the hand of Lady Macbeth ; lust and region of pure poetry. It is in this peaceful self-indulgence blast the heroism of Antony; and gracious close that the life of Shakspere pride ruins the nobleness of Coriolanus. contrasts most vividly with that of his great

But the very struggle and self-introspec- est contemporary. If the imaginative retion that these dramas betray were to give sources of the new England were seen in a depth and grandeur to Shakspere's work the creators of Hamlet and the Faerie Queen, such as it had never known before. The its purely intellectual capacity, its vast comage was one in which man's temper and mand over the stores of human knowledge, powers took a new range and energy. Sid- the amazing sense of its own powers with ney or Raleigh lived not one but a dozen which it dealt with them, were seen in the lives at once; the daring of the adventurer, work of Francis Bacon. the philosophy of the scholar, the passion History of the English People, Vol. ii. of the lover, the fanaticism of the saint, Book vi., 1858.

WILLIAM EDWARD HART- neath the fangs of wild beasts, extending POLE LECKY,

to the last moment their arms in the form born 1838, is the author of three works of chains to be buried with them as the insig

of the cross they loved ; who ordered their great learning, entitled The History of Rationalism in Europe, Lond., 1865, 2 vols. nia of their warfare; who looked with joy 8vo; History of European Morals from upon their ghastly wounds because they Augustus to Charlemagne, Lond., 1869, 2

had been received for Christ; who welcomed

death as the bridegroom welcomes the bride, Eighteenth Century, Lond., 1878, 2 vols. 8vo. because it would bring them nearer to Him.

History of European Morals. CHARACTER AND INFLUENCE OF CHRIST.

On Suicide. But if Christianity was remarkable for its appeals to the selfish or interested side Two or three English suicides left behind of our nature, it was far more remarkable them elaborate defences, as did also a Swede for the empire it attained over disinterested named Robeck, who drowned himself in enthusiasm. The Platonists exhorted men 1735, and whose treatise published in the to imitate God, the Stoic, to follow reason, following year, acquired considerable celebthe Christian, to the love of Christ. Thé rity. But the most influential writings later Stoics had often united their notions about suicides were those of the French of excellence in an ideal sage, and Epictetus philosophers and revolutionists. Montaigne, had even urged his disciples to set before without discussing its abstract lawfulness, them some man of surpassing excellence, recounts with much admiration many of the and to imagine him continually near them; | instances in antiquity. Montesquieu, in a but the utmost the Stoic ideal could become youthful work, defended it with ardent enwas a model for imitation, and the admira- thusiasm. Rousseau devoted to the subject tion it inspired could never deepen into affec- two letters of a burning and passionate elotion. It was reserved for Christianity to quence, in the first of which he presented present to the world an ideal character, with matchless power the arguments in its which through all the changes of eighteen favour, while in the second he denounced centuries has inspired the hearts of men those arguments as sophistical, dilated upon with an impassioned love, has shown itself the impiety of abandoning the post of duty, capable of acting on all ages, nations, tem- and upon the cowardice of despair, and with peraments, and conditions, has been not a deep knowledge of the human heart reonly the highest pattern of virtue but the vealed the selfishness that lies at the root of strongest incentive to its practice, and has most suicide, exhorting all those who felt exercised so deep an influence that it may impelled to it to set about some work for the be truly said that the simple record of three good of others, in which they would asshort years of active life has done more to suredly find relief. Voltaire, in the bestregenerate and soften mankind than all the known couplet he ever wrote, defends the act disquisitions of philosophers and all the ex- on occasions of extreme necessity. Among hortations of moralists. This has indeed the atheistical party it was warmly eulogized, been the well-spring of whatever is best and and Holbach and Deslandes were prominent purest in the Christian life. Amid all the as its defenders. The rapid decomposition sins and failings, amid all the priestcraft and of religious opinions weakened the popular persecution and fanaticism that have defaced sense of its enormity, and at the same time the Church, it has preserved in the character the humanity of the age, and also a clearer of its Founder an enduring principle of re

sense of the true limits of legislation, progeneration. Perfect love knows no rights. duced a reaction against the horrible laws It creates a boundless, uncalculating self- on the subject. Grotius had defended them. abnegation that transforms the character, Montesquieu at first denounced them with and is the parent of every virtue. Side by unqualified energy, but in his later years in side with the terrorism and superstition of some degree modified his opinions. Becdogmatism there have ever existed in Chris- caria, who was, more than any other writer, tianity those who would echo the wish of St. the representative of the opinions of the Theresa, that she could blot out both heaven French school on such matters, condemned and hell, to serve God for Himself alone; them partly as unjust to the innocent surand the power of the love of Christ has been vivors, partly as incapable of deterring any displayed alike in the most heroic pages of man who was resolved upon the act. Christian martyrdom, in the most pathetic The common sentiment of Christendom has, pages of Christian resignation, and in the however, ratified the judgment which the tenderest pages of Christian charity. It Christian teachers pronounced upon the act, was shown by the martyrs who sank be- though it has somewhat modified the severity of the old censure, and has abandoned some Lond., 1879; Theophrastus Such, 1879. of the old arguments. It was reserved for She translated Strauss's Life of Jesus, 1846. Madame de Staël, who, in a youthful work and Feuerbach's Essence of Christianity, upon the Passions, had commended suicide, 1853, and has contributed to the West. to reconstruct this department of ethics, minster Review, etc. which had been somewhat disturbed at the Revolution, and she did so in a little treatise revival of the taste and beauty and freedom of

“Romola is a marvellously able story of the which is a model of calm, candid, and philo- Hellenic manners and letters under Lorenzo di sophic piety. Frankly abandoning the old Medici and the scholars of his Court, side by side theological notions that the deed was of the with the revival of Roman virtue, and more than nature of murder, that it was the worst of the ancient austerity and piety, under the great crimes, and that it was always, or even gen- Dominican, Savonarola. The period of history is

one which of all others may well have engrossing in. erally, the offspring of cowardice; aban

terest for George Eliot."-(Lond.) Quart. Rec., Oct. doning, too, all attempts to scare men by 1860. See also Westm. Rev., April, 1859, Black. religious terrorism, she proceeded, not so Mag., April, 1859, May, 1860; Edin. Rer., July, much to meet in detail the isolated argu- 1859; Brit. Quart. Rev., Oct. 1863, Oct. 1868; A1ments of its defenders, as to sketch the ideal lantic Mon., Oct. 1868; Essays, by R. H. Hutton. of a truly virtuous man, and to show how such a character would secure men against

Mrs. PoysER AND THE SQUIRE. all temptation to suicide. . . . Sentiments of this kind have, through the influence of

Ah, now this I like," said Mr. DonniChristianity, thoroughly pervaded European thorne, looking round at the damp temple society, and suicide, in modern times, is of cleanliness (Mrs. Poyser's dairy) but almost always found to have sprung either keeping near the door. “I'm sure I should from absolute insanity, from diseases which, like my breakfast better if I knew the butter though not amounting to insanity, are yet and cream came from this dairy. Thank sufficient to discolour our judgments, o you, that really is a pleasant sight. Unforfrom that last excess of sorrow, when resig. tunately, my slight tendency to rheumatism nation and hope are both extinct. Con- makes me afraid of damp; I'll sit down in sidering it in this light, I know few things your comfortable kitchen. Ah, Poyser, how more fitted to qualify the optimism we so do

you

do? In the midst of business, I see, often hear, than the fact that statistics show

as usual. I've been looking at your wife's it to be rapidly increasing, and to be pe beautiful dairy,—the best manager in the culiarly characteristic of those nations which parish, is she not ?" rank most high in intellectual development Mr. Poyser had just entered in shirtand in general civilization. In one or two sleeves and open waistcoat, with a face a countries, strong religious feeling has coun-shade redder than usual from the exertion teracted the tendency, but the comparison of "pitching." As he stood-red, rotund, of town and country, of different countries, and radiant before the small wiry, cool old of different provinces of the same country, gentleman-he looked like a prize-apple by and of different periods of history, proves the side of a withered crab. conclusively its reality.

“Will you please to take this chair, sir ?" History of European Morals, Vol. ii. he snid, lifting his father's arm-chair forChap. iv.

ward a little ; " you'll find it easy."'.

* No, thank you, I never sit in easy.

chairs," said the old gentleman, seating GEORGE ELIOT,

himself on a small chair near the door.

“Do you know, Mrs. Poyser,--sit down, is the nom de plume of Miss Marian C. prny, both of you,—I've been far from conEvans, and Mrs. Lewes, the widow of tented for some time with Mrs. Satchell's George Henry Lewes, born in the north of dairy management. I think she has not a England about 1820. As a novelist she stands good method, as you have." in the first rank.

“Indeed, sir, I can't speak to that," said Scenes of Clerical Life, Lond., 1858 ; Mrs. Poyser, in a hard voice, rolling and Adam Bede, 1859 ; The Mill on the Floss, unrolling her knitting, and looking icily out 1860; Silas Marner, 1861; Romola, 1863; of the window, as she continued to stand Felix Holt, Radical. 1866; The Spanish opposite the Squire. Poyser might sit down Gipsy, a Poem, in Five Books, 1868, new if he liked, she thought: she wasn't going edit., 1875, 12mo; Middlemarch, 1871-72; to sit down, as if she'd give in to any such The Legend of Jubal, and other Poems, smooth-tongued palaver. Mr. Poyser, who 1875, 12mo; Daniel Deronda, 1876 ; Novels, looked and felt the reverse of icy, did sit new editions, 1870, 7 vols. in 6, p. 8vo; Se-down in his three-cornered chair. lect Passages from George Eliot, Edin. and “And now, Poyser, as Satchell is laid up,