No More Learning

]



_January_ 12. 1834.

ARTICLES OF FAITH. --MODERN QUAKERISM. --DEVOTIONAL
SPIRIT. --SECTARIANISM. --ORIGEN.


I have drawn up four or perhaps five articles of faith, by subscription, or
rather by assent, to which I think a large comprehension might take place.
My articles would exclude Unitarians, and I am sorry to say, members of the
church of Rome, but with this difference--that the exclusion of Unitarians
would be necessary and perpetual; that of the members of the church of Rome
depending on each individual's own conscience and intellectual light. What
I mean is this:--that the Romanists hold the faith in Christ,--but
unhappily they also hold certain opinions, partly ceremonial, partly
devotional, partly speculative, which have so fatal a facility of being
degraded into base, corrupting, and even idolatrous practices, that if the
Romanist will make _them_ of the essence of his religion, he must of course
be excluded. As to the Quakers, I hardly know what to say. An article on
the sacraments would exclude them. My doubt is, whether Baptism and the
Eucharist are properly any _parts_ of Christianity, or not rather
Christianity itself;--the one, the initial conversion or light,--the other,
the sustaining and invigorating life;--both together the [Greek: ph_os ahi
z_oh_a], which are Christianity. A line can only begin once; hence, there
can be no repetition of baptism; but a line may be endlessly prolonged by
continued production; hence the sacrament of love and life lasts for ever.

But really there is no knowing what the modern Quakers are, or believe,
excepting this--that they are altogether degenerated from their ancestors
of the seventeenth century. I should call modern Quakerism, so far as I
know it as a scheme of faith, a Socinian Calvinism. Penn himself was a
Sabellian, and seems to have disbelieved even the historical fact of the
life and death of Jesus;--most certainly Jesus of Nazareth was not Penn's
Christ, if he had any. It is amusing to see the modern Quakers appealing
now to history for a confirmation of their tenets and discipline--and by so
doing, in effect abandoning the strong hold of their founders. As an
_imperium in imperio_, I think the original Quakerism a conception worthy
of Lycurgus. Modern Quakerism is like one of those gigantic trees which are
seen in the forests of North America,--apparently flourishing, and
preserving all its greatest stretch and spread of branches; but when you
cut through an enormously thick and gnarled bark, you find the whole inside
hollow and rotten. Modern Quakerism, like such a tree, stands upright by
help of its inveterate bark alone. _Bark_ a Quaker, and he is a poor
creature.

* * * * *

How much the devotional spirit of the church has suffered by that necessary
evil, the Reformation, and the sects which have sprung up subsequently to
it! All our modern prayers seem tongue-tied. We appear to be thinking more
of avoiding an heretical expression or thought than of opening ourselves to
God. We do not pray with that entire, unsuspecting, unfearing, childlike
profusion of feeling, which so beautifully shines forth in Jeremy Taylor
and Andrewes and the writings of some of the older and better saints of the
Romish church, particularly of that remarkable woman, St. Theresa. [1] And
certainly Protestants, in their anxiety to have the historical argument on
their side, have brought down the origin of the Romish errors too late.
Many of them began, no doubt, in the Apostolic age itself;--I say errors--
not heresies, as that dullest of the fathers, Epiphanius, calls them.
Epiphanius is very long and fierce upon the Ebionites. There may have been
real heretics under that name; but I believe that, in the beginning, the
name was, on account of its Hebrew meaning, given to, or adopted by, some
poor mistaken men--perhaps of the Nazarene way--who sold all their goods
and lands, and were then obliged to beg. I think it not improbable that
Barnabas was one of these chief mendicants; and that the collection made by
St. Paul was for them. You should read Rhenferd's account of the early
heresies. I think he demonstrates about eight of Epiphanius's heretics to
be mere nicknames given by the Jews to the Christians. Read "Hermas, or the
Shepherd," of the genuineness of which and of the epistle of Barnabas I
have no doubt. It is perfectly orthodox, but full of the most ludicrous
tricks of gnostic fancy--the wish to find the New Testament in the Old.
This gnosis is perceptible in the Epistle to the Hebrews, but kept
exquisitely within the limit of propriety. In the others it is rampant, and
most truly "puffeth up," as St. Paul said of it.

What between the sectarians and the political economists, the English are
denationalized. England I see as a country, but the English nation seems
obliterated. What could redintegrate us again? Must it be another threat of
foreign invasion?

[Footnote 1:
She was a native of Avila in Old Castile, and a Carmelite nun. Theresa
established an order which she called the "Reformed," and which became very
powerful. Her works are divided into ten books, of which her autobiography
forms a remarkable part. She died in 1582, and was canonised by Gregory XV.
in 1622--ED. ]

* * * * *

I never can digest the loss of most of Origen's works: he seems to have
been almost the only very great scholar and genius combined amongst the
early Fathers. Jerome was very inferior to him.



_January_ 20. 1834.

SOME MEN LIKE MUSICAL GLASSES. --SUBLIME AND NONSENSE. --ATHEIST.


Some men are like musical glasses;--to produce their finest tones, you must
keep them wet.

* * * * *

Well! that passage is what I call the sublime dashed to pieces by cutting
too close with the fiery four-in-hand round the corner of nonsense.

* * * * *

How did the Atheist get his idea of that God whom he denies?



_February_ 22. 1834.

PROOF OF EXISTENCE OF GOD. --KANT'S ATTEMPT. --PLURALITY
OF WORLDS.


Assume the existence of God,--and then the harmony and fitness of the
physical creation may be shown to correspond with and support such an
assumption;--but to set about _proving_ the existence of a God by such
means is a mere circle, a delusion. It can be no proof to a good reasoner,
unless he violates all syllogistic logic, and presumes his conclusion.

Kant once set about proving the existence of God, and a masterly effort it
was. * But in his later great work, the "Critique of the Pure Reason," he
saw its fallacy, and said of it--that _if_ the existence could he _proved_
at all, it must be on the grounds indicated by him.

* * * * *

I never could feel any force in the arguments for a plurality of worlds, in
the common acceptation of that term. A lady once asked me--"What then could
be the intention in creating so many great bodies, so apparently useless to
us? " I said--I did not know, except perhaps to make dirt cheap. The vulgar
inference is _in alio genere_. What in the eye of an intellectual and
omnipotent Being is the whole sidereal system to the soul of one man for
whom Christ died?



_March_ 1. 1834.

A REASONER.


I am by the law of my nature a reasoner. A person who should suppose I
meant by that word, an arguer, [1] would not only not understand me, but
would understand the contrary of my meaning. I can take no interest
whatever in hearing or saying any thing merely as a fact--merely as having
happened. It must refer to something within me before I can regard it with
any curiosity or care. My mind is always energic--I don't mean energetic; I
require in every thing what, for lack of another word, I may call
_propriety_,--that is, a reason why the thing _is_ at all, and why it is
_there_ or _then_ rather than elsewhere or at another time.

[Footnote 1:
In his essay, "_Der einzig mogliche Beweisgrund zu einer Demonstration des
Daseyns Gottes_. "--"The only possible argument or ground of proof for a
demonstration of the existence of God. " It was published in 1763; the
"Critique" in 1781. --ED. ]



_March_ 5. 1834.

SHAKSPEARE'S INTELLECTUAL ACTION. --CRABBE AND
SOUTHEY. --PETER SIMPLE AND TOM CRINGLE'S LOG.


Shakspeare's intellectual action is wholly unlike that of Ben Jonson or
Beaumont and Fletcher. The latter see the totality of a sentence or
passage, and then project it entire. Shakspeare goes on creating, and
evolving B. out of A. , and C. out of B. , and so on, just as a serpent
moves, which makes a fulcrum of its own body, and seems for ever twisting
and untwisting its own strength.

* * * * *

I think Crabbe and Southey are something alike; but Crabbe's poems are
founded on observation and real life--Southey's on fancy and books. In
facility they are equal, though Crabbe's English is of course not upon a
level with Southey's, which is next door to faultless. But in Crabbe there
is an absolute defect of the high imagination; he gives me little or no
pleasure: yet, no doubt, he has much power of a certain kind, and it is
good to cultivate, even at some pains, a catholic taste in literature. I
read all sorts of books with some pleasure except modern sermons and
treatises on political economy.

* * * * *

I have received a great deal of pleasure from some of the modern novels,
especially Captain Marryat's "Peter Simple. " That book is nearer Smollett
than any I remember. And "Tom Cringle's Log" in Blackwood is also most
excellent.



_March_ 15. 1834.

CHAUCER. --SHAKSPEARE. --BEN JONSON. --BEAUMONT
AND FLETCHER. --DANIEL. --MASSINGER.


I take unceasing delight in Chaucer. His manly cheerfulness is especially
delicious to me in my old age. [1] How exquisitely tender he is, and yet how
perfectly free from the least touch of sickly melancholy or morbid
drooping! The sympathy of the poet with the subjects of his poetry is
particularly remarkable in Shakspeare and Chaucer; but what the first
effects by a strong act of imagination and mental metamorphosis, the last
does without any effort, merely by the inborn kindly joyousness of his
nature. How well we seem to know Chaucer! How absolutely nothing do we know
of Shakspeare!

I cannot in the least allow any necessity for Chaucer's poetry, especially
the Canterbury Tales, being considered obsolete. Let a few plain rules be
given for sounding the final _e_ of syllables, and for expressing the
termination of such words as _ocean_, and _nation_, &c. as dissyllables,--
or let the syllables to be sounded in such cases be marked by a competent
metrist. This simple expedient would, with a very few trifling exceptions,
where the errors are inveterate, enable any reader to feel the perfect
smoothness and harmony of Chaucer's verse.

[Footnote 1:
Eighteen years before, Mr. Coleridge entertained the same feelings towards
Chaucer:--"Through all the works of Chaucer there reigns a cheerfulness, a
manly hilarity, which makes it almost impossible to doubt a correspondent
habit of feeling in the author himself. " _Biog. Lit_. , vol. i. p. 32. --ED. ]


* * * * *

As to understanding his language, if you read twenty pages with a good
glossary, you surely can find no further difficulty, even as it is; but I
should have no objection to see this done:--Strike out those words which
are now obsolete, and I will venture to say that I will replace every one
of them by words still in use out of Chaucer himself, or Gower his
disciple. I don't want this myself: I rather like to see the significant
terms which Chaucer unsuccessfully offered as candidates for admission into
our language; but surely so very slight a change of the text may well be
pardoned, even by black--_letterati_, for the purpose of restoring so great
a poet to his ancient and most deserved popularity.

* * * * *

Shakspeare is of no age. It is idle to endeavour to support his phrases by
quotations from Ben Jonson, Beaumont and Fletcher, &c. His language is
entirely his own, and the younger dramatists imitated him. The construction
of Shakspeare's sentences, whether in verse or prose, is the necessary and
homogeneous vehicle of his peculiar manner of thinking. His is not the
style of the age. More particularly, Shakspeare's blank verse is an
absolutely new creation. Read Daniel[1]--the admirable Daniel--in his
"Civil Wars," and "Triumphs of Hymen. "

The style and language are just such as any very pure and manly writer of
the present day--Wordsworth, for example--would use; it seems quite modern
in comparison with the style of Shakspeare. Ben Jonson's blank verse is
very masterly and individual, and perhaps Massinger's is even still nobler.
In Beaumont and Fletcher it is constantly slipping into lyricisms.

I believe Shakspeare was not a whit more intelligible in his own day than
he is now to an educated man, except for a few local allusions of no
consequence. As I said, he is of no age--nor, I may add, of any religion,
or party, or profession. The body and substance of his works came out of
the unfathomable depths of his own oceanic mind: his observation and
reading, which was considerable, supplied him with the drapery of his
figures. [2]

[Footnote 1:
"This poet's well-merited epithet is that of the '_well-languaged Daniel_;'
but, likewise, and by the consent of his contemporaries, no less than of
all succeeding critics, the 'prosaic Daniel. ' Yet those who thus designate
this wise and amiable writer, from the frequent incorrespondency of his
diction with his metre, in the majority of his compositions, not only deem
them valuable and interesting on other accounts, but willingly admit that
there are to be found throughout his poems, and especially in his
_Epistles_ and in his _Hymen's Triumph_, many and exquisite specimens of
that style, which, as the neutral ground of prose and verse, is common to
both. "--_Biog. Lit_. , vol. ii. p. 82. ]

[Footnote 2:
Mr. Coleridge called Shakspeare "_the myriad-minded man_," [Greek: au_az
muzioyous]--" a phrase," said he, "which I have borrowed from a Greek monk,
who applies it to a patriarch of Constantinople. I might have said, that I
have _reclaimed_, rather than borrowed, it, for it seems to belong to
Shakspeare _de jure singulari, et ex privilegio naturae. " See Biog. Lit. ,
vol. ii. p. 13. --ED. ]

* * * * *

As for editing Beaumont and Fletcher, the task would be one _immensi
laboris_. The confusion is now so great, the errors so enormous, that the
editor must use a boldness quite unallowable in any other case. All I can
say as to Beaumont and Fletcher is, that I can point out well enough where
something has been lost, and that something so and so was probably in the
original; but the law of Shakspeare's thought and verse is such, that I
feel convinced that not only could I detect the spurious, but supply the
genuine, word.



_March_ 20. 1834.


LORD BYRON AND H. WALPOLE'S "MYSTERIOUS MOTHER. "--LEWIS'S "JAMAICA
JOURNAL. "

Lord Byron, as quoted by Lord Dover[1], says, that the "Mysterious Mother"
raises Horace Walpole above every author living in his, Lord Byron's, time.
Upon which I venture to remark, first, that I do not believe that Lord
Byron spoke sincerely; for I suspect that he made a tacit exception in
favour of himself at least;--secondly, that it is a miserable mode of
comparison which does not rest on difference of kind. It proceeds of envy
and malice and detraction to say that A. is higher than B. , unless you show
that they are _in pari materia_;--thirdly, that the "Mysterious Mother" is
the most disgusting, vile, detestable composition that ever came from the
hand of man. No one with a spark of true manliness, of which Horace Walpole
had none, could have written it. As to the blank verse, it is indeed better
than Rowe's and Thomson's, which was execrably bad:--any approach,
therefore, to the manner of the old dramatists was of course an
improvement; but the loosest lines in Shirley are superior to Walpole's
best.

[Footnote 1:
In the memoir prefixed to the correspondence with Sir H. Mann. Lord Byron's
words are:--"He is the _ultimus Romanorum_, the author of the 'Mysterious
Mother,' a tragedy of the highest order, and not a puling love play. He is
the father of the first romance, and of the last tragedy, in our language;
and surely worthy of a higher place than any living author, be he who he
may. "--_Preface to Marino Faliero_. Is not "Romeo and Juliet" a love play?
--But why reason about such insincere, splenetic trash? --ED. ]

* * * * *

Lewis's "Jamaica Journal" is delightful; it is almost the only unaffected
book of travels or touring I have read of late years. You have the man
himself, and not an inconsiderable man,--certainly a much finer mind than I
supposed before from the perusal of his romances, &c. It is by far his best
work, and will live and be popular. Those verses on the Hours are very
pretty; but the Isle of Devils is, like his romances,--a fever dream--
horrible, without point or terror.



_April_ 16. 1834.

SICILY. --MALTA--SIR ALEXANDER BALL.


I found that every thing in and about Sicily had been exaggerated by
travellers, except two things--the folly of the government and the
wretchedness of the people. _They_ did not admit of exaggeration.

Really you may learn the fundamental principles of political economy in a
very compendious way, by taking a short tour through Sicily, and simply
reversing in your own mind every law, custom, and ordinance you meet with.
I never was in a country in which every thing proceeding from man was so
exactly wrong.
You have peremptory ordinances _against_ making roads, taxes
on the passage of common vegetables from one miserable village to another,
and so on.

By the by, do you know any parallel in modern history to the absurdity of
our giving a legislative assembly to the Sicilians? It exceeds any thing I
know. This precious legislature passed two bills before it was knocked on
the head: the first was, to render lands inalienable; and the second, to
cancel all debts due before the date of the bill.

And then consider the gross ignorance and folly of our laying a tax upon
the Sicilians! Taxation in its proper sense can only exist where there is a
free circulation of capital, labour, and commodities throughout the
community. But to tax the people in countries like Sicily and Corsica,
where there is no internal communication, is mere robbery and confiscation.
A crown taken from a Corsican living in the sierras would not get back to
him again in ten years.

* * * * *

It is interesting to pass from Malta to Sicily--from the highest specimen
of an inferior race, the Saracenic, to the most degraded class of a
superior race, the European.

* * * * *

No tongue can describe the moral corruption of the Maltese when the island
was surrendered to us. There was not a family in it in which a wife or a
daughter was not a kept mistress. A marquis of ancient family applied to
Sir Alexander Ball to be appointed his valet. "My valet! " said Ball, "what
can you mean, Sir? " The marquis said, he hoped he should then have had the
honour of presenting petitions to his Excellency. "Oh, that is it, is it! "
said Sir Alexander: "my valet, Sir, brushes my clothes, and brings them to
me. If he dared to meddle with matters of public business, I should kick
him down stairs. "

In short, Malta was an Augean stable, and Ball had all the inclination to
be a Hercules. [1] His task was most difficult, although his qualifications
were most remarkable. I remember an English officer of very high rank
soliciting him for the renewal of a pension to an abandoned woman who had
been notoriously treacherous to us. That officer had promised the woman as
a matter of course--she having sacrificed her daughter to him. Ball was
determined, as far as he could, to prevent Malta from being made a nest of
home patronage. He considered, as was the fact, that there was a contract
between England and the Maltese. Hence the government at home, especially
Dundas, disliked him, and never allowed him any other title than that of
Civil Commissioner. We have, I believe, nearly succeeded in alienating the
hearts of the inhabitants from us. Every officer in the island ought to be
a Maltese, except those belonging to the immediate executive: 100_l_. per
annum to a Maltese, to enable him to keep a gilt carriage, will satisfy him
where an Englishman must have 2000_l_.

[Footnote 1:
I refer the reader to the five concluding essays of the third volume of the
"Friend," as a specimen of what Mr. C. might have done as a biographer if
an irresistible instinct had not devoted him to profounder labours. As a
sketch--and it pretends to nothing more--is there any thing more perfect in
our literature than the monument raised in those essays to the memory of
Sir Alexander Ball? --and there are some touches added to the character of
Nelson, which the reader, even of Southey's matchless Life of our hero,
will find both new and interesting. --ED. ]



_May_ 1. 1834.

CAMBRIDGE PETITION TO ADMIT DISSENTERS.


There are, to my grief, the names of some men to the Cambridge petition for
admission of the Dissenters to the University, whose cheeks I think must
have burned with shame at the degrading patronage and befouling eulogies of
the democratic press, and at seeing themselves used as the tools of the
open and rancorous enemies of the church. How miserable to be held up for
the purpose of inflicting insult upon men, whose worth and ability and
sincerity you well know,--and this by a faction banded together like
obscene dogs and cats and serpents, against a church which you profoundly
revere! The _time_--the _time_--the _occasion_ and the _motive_ ought to
have been argument enough, that even if the measure were right or harmless
in itself, not _now_, nor with such as _these_, was it to be effected!



_May_ 3. 1834.

CORN LAWS.


Those who argue that England may safely depend upon a supply of foreign
corn, if it grow none or an insufficient quantity of its own, forget that
they are subjugating the necessaries of life itself to the mere luxuries or
comforts of society. Is it not certain that the price of corn abroad will
be raised upon us as soon as it is once known that we _must_ buy? --and when
that fact is known, in what sort of a situation shall we be? Besides this,
the argument supposes that agriculture is not a positive good to the
nation, taken in and by itself, as a mode of existence for the people,
which supposition is false and pernicious; and if we are to become a great
horde of manufacturers, shall we not, even more than at present, excite the
ill will of all the manufacturers of other nations? It has been already
shown, in evidence which is before all the world, that some of our
manufacturers have acted upon the accursed principle of deliberately
injuring foreign manufactures, if they can, even to the ultimate disgrace
of the country and loss to themselves.



_May_ 19. 1834.

CHRISTIAN SABBATH.


How grossly misunderstood the genuine character of the Christian sabbath,
or Lord's day, seems to be even by the church! To confound it with the
Jewish sabbath, or to rest its observance upon the fourth commandment, is,
in my judgment, heretical, and would so have been considered in the
primitive church. That cessation from labour on the Lord's day could not
have been absolutely incumbent on Christians for two centuries after
Christ, is apparent; because during that period the greater part of the
Christians were either slaves or in official situations under Pagan masters
or superiors, and had duties to perform for those who did not recognize the
day. And we know that St. Paul sent back Onesimus to his master, and told
every Christian slave, that, being a Christian, he was free in his mind
indeed, but still must serve his earthly master, although he might laudably
seek for his personal freedom also. If the early Christians had refused to
work on the Lord's day, rebellion and civil war must have been the
immediate consequences. But there is no notice of any such cessation.

The Jewish sabbath was commemorative of the termination of the great act of
creation; it was to record that the world had not been from eternity, nor
had arisen as a dream by itself, but that God had created it by distinct
acts of power, and that he had hallowed the day or season in which he
rested or desisted from his work. When our Lord arose from the dead, the
old creation was, as it were, superseded, and the new creation then began;
and therefore the first day and not the last day, the commencement and not
the end, of the work of God was solemnized.

Luther, in speaking of the _good by itself_, and the good _for its
expediency alone_, instances the observance of the Christian day of rest,--
a day of repose from manual labour, and of activity in spiritual labour,--a
day of joy and co-operation in the work of Christ's creation. "Keep it
holy"--says he--"for its use' sake,--both to body and soul! But if any
where the day is made holy for the mere day's sake,--if any where any one
sets up its observance upon a Jewish foundation, then I order you to work
on it, to ride on it, to dance on it, to feast on it--to do any thing that
shall reprove this encroachment on the Christian spirit and liberty. "

The early church distinguished the day of Christian rest so strongly from a
fast, that it was unlawful for a man to bewail even _his own sins_, as such
only, on that day. He was to bewail the sins of _all_, and to pray as one
of the whole of Christ's body.

And the English Reformers evidently took the same view of the day as Luther
and the early church. But, unhappily, our church, in the reigns of James
and Charles the First, was so identified with the undue advancement of the
royal prerogative, that the puritanical Judaizing of the Presbyterians was
but too well seconded by the patriots of the nation, in resisting the wise
efforts of the church to prevent the incipient alteration in the character
of the day of rest. After the Restoration, the bishops and clergy in
general adopted the view taken and enforced by their enemies.

By the by, it is curious to observe, in this semi-infidel and Malthusian
Parliament, how the Sabbatarian spirit unites itself with a rancorous
hostility to that one institution, which alone, according to reason and
experience, can insure the continuance of any general religion at all in
the nation at large. Some of these gentlemen, who are for not letting a
poor labouring man have a dish of baked potatoes on a Sunday, _religionis
gratia_--(God forgive that audacious blasphemy! )--are foremost among those
who seem to live but in vilifying, weakening, and impoverishing the
national church. I own my indignation boils over against such contemptible
fellows.

I sincerely wish to preserve a decent quiet on Sunday. I would prohibit
compulsory labour, and put down operas, theatres, &c. , for this plain
reason--that if the rich be allowed to play, the poor will be forced, or,
what comes to the same thing, will be induced, to work. I am not for a
Paris Sunday. But to stop coaches, and let the gentleman's carriage run, is
monstrous.



_May_ 25. 1834.

HIGH PRIZES AND REVENUES OF THE CHURCH.


Your argument against the high prizes in the church might be put strongly
thus:--Admit that in the beginning it might have been fairly said, that
some eminent rewards ought to be set apart for the purpose of stimulating
and rewarding transcendant merit; what have you to say now, after centuries
of experience to the contrary? --_Have_ the high prizes been given to the
highest genius, virtue, or learning? Is it not rather the truth, as Jortin
said, that twelve votes in a contested election will do more to make a man
a bishop than an admired commentary on the twelve minor prophets? --To all
which and the like I say again, that you ought not to reason from the
abuse, which may be rectified, against the inherent uses of the thing.
_Appoint_ the most deserving--and the prize _will_ answer its purpose. As
to the bishops' incomes,--in the first place, the net receipts--that which
the bishops may spend--have been confessedly exaggerated beyond measure;
but, waiving that, and allowing the highest estimate to be correct, I
should like to have the disposition of the episcopal revenue in any one
year by the late or the present Bishop of Durham, or the present Bishops of
London or Winchester, compared with that of the most benevolent nobleman in
England of any party in politics. I firmly believe that the former give
away in charity of one kind or another, public, official, or private, three
times as much in proportion as the latter. You may have a hunks or two now
and then; but so you would much more certainly, if you were to reduce the
incomes to 2000_l_. per annum. As a body, in my opinion the clergy of
England do in truth act as if their property were impressed with a trust to
the utmost extent that can be demanded by those who affect to believe,
ignorantly or not, that lying legend of a tripartite or quadripartite
division of the tithe by law.



_May 31. 1834. _

SIR C. WETHERELL'S SPEECH. --NATIONAL CHURCH. --DISSENTERS. --PAPACY. ----
UNIVERSITIES.


I think Sir Charles Wetherell's speech before the Privy Council very
effective. I doubt if any other lawyer in Westminster Hall could have done
the thing so well.

* * * * *

The National Church requires, and is required by, the Christian Church, for
the perfection of each. For if there were no national Church, the mere
spiritual Church would either become, like the Papacy, a dreadful tyranny
over mind and body;--or else would fall abroad into a multitude of
enthusiastic sects, as in England in the seventeenth century. It is my deep
conviction that, in a country of any religion at all, liberty of conscience
can only be permanently preserved by means and under the shadow of a
national church--a political establishment connected with, but distinct
from, the spiritual Church.

* * * * *

I sometimes hope that the undisguised despotism of temper of the Dissenters
may at last awaken a jealousy in the laity of the Church of England. But
the apathy and inertness are, I fear, too profound--too providential.

* * * * *

Whatever the Papacy may have been on the Continent, it was always an
unqualified evil to this country. It destroyed what was rising of good, and
introduced a thousand evils of its own. The Papacy was and still is
essentially extra-national;--it affects, _temporally_, to do that which the
spiritual Church of Christ can alone do--to break down the natural
distinctions of nations. Now, as the Roman Papacy is in itself local and
peculiar, of course this attempt is nothing but a direct attack on the
political independence of other nations.

The institution of Universities was the single check on the Papacy. The
Pope always hated and maligned the Universities. The old coenobitic
establishments of England were converted--perverted, rather--into
monasteries and other monking receptacles. You see it was at Oxford that
Wicliffe alone found protection and encouragement.



_June_ 2. 1834.

SCHILLER'S VERSIFICATION. --GERMAN BLANK VERSE.


Schiller's blank verse is bad. He moves in it as a fly in a glue bottle.
His thoughts have their connection and variety, it is true, but there is no
sufficiently corresponding movement in the verse. How different from
Shakspeare's endless rhythms!

There is a nimiety--a too-muchness--in all Germans. It is the national
fault. Leasing had the best notion of blank verse. The trochaic termination
of German words renders blank verse in that language almost impracticable.
We have it in our dramatic hendecasyllable; but then we have a power of
interweaving the iambic close _ad libitum. _



_June_ 14. 1834.

ROMAN CATHOLIC EMANCIPATION. --DUKE OF WELLINGTON. --CORONATION OATH.


The Roman Catholic Emancipation Act--carried in the violent, and, in fact,
unprincipled manner it was--was in effect a Surinam toad;--and the Reform
Bill, the Dissenters' admission to the Universities, and the attack on the
Church, are so many toadlets, one after another detaching themselves from
their parent brute.

* * * * *

If you say there is nothing in the Romish religion, sincerely felt,
inconsistent with the duties of citizenship and allegiance to a territorial
Protestant sovereign, _cadit quaestio_. For if _that_ is once admitted,
there can be no answer to the argument from numbers. Certainly, if the
religion of the majority of the _people_ be innocuous to the interests of
the _nation_, the majority have a natural right to be trustees of the
nationalty--that property which is set apart for the nation's use, and
rescued from the gripe of private hands. But when I say--_for the nation's
use_. --I mean the very reverse of what the Radicals mean. They would
convert it to relieve taxation, which I call a private, personal, and
perishable use. A nation's uses are immortal.

* * * * *

How lamentable it is to hear the Duke of Wellington expressing himself
doubtingly on the abominable sophism that the Coronation Oath only binds
the King as the executive power--thereby making a Highgate oath of it. But
the Duke is conscious of the ready retort which his language and conduct on
the Emancipation Bill afford to his opponents. He is hampered by that
affair.



_June_ 20. 1834.

CORN LAWS. --MODERN POLITICAL ECONOMY.


In the argument on the Corn Laws there is a [Greek: metazasis eis allo
gevos]. It may be admitted that the great principles of commerce require
the interchange of commodities to be free; but commerce, which is barter,
has no proper range beyond luxuries or conveniences;--it is properly the
complement to the full existence and development of a state. But how can it
be shown that the principles applicable to an interchange of conveniences
or luxuries apply also to an interchange of necessaries? No state can be
such properly, which is not self-subsistent at least; for no state that is
not so, is essentially independent. The nation that cannot even exist
without the commodity of another nation, is in effect the slave of that
other nation. In common times, indeed, pecuniary interest will prevail, and
prevent a ruinous exercise of the power which the nation supplying the
necessary must have over the nation which has only the convenience or
luxury to return; but such interest, both in individuals and nations, will
yield to many stronger passions. Is Holland any authority to the contrary?
If so, Tyre and Sidon and Carthage were so! Would you put England on a
footing with a country, which can be overrun in a campaign, and starved in
a year?

* * * * *

The entire tendency of the modern or Malthusian political economy is to
denationalize. It would dig up the charcoal foundations of the temple of
Ephesus to burn as fuel for a steam-engine!



_June_ 21. 1834.

Mr. ----, in his poem, makes trees coeval with Chaos;--which is next door
to Hans Sachse[1] who, in describing Chaos, said it was so pitchy dark,
that even the very _cats_ ran against each other!

[Footnote 1: Hans Sachse was born 1494, and died 1576. --ED],



_June_ 23. 1834.

SOCINIANISM. --UNITARIANISM. --FANCY AND IMAGINATION.


Faustus Socinus worshipped Jesus Christ, and said that God had given him
the power of being omnipresent. Davidi, with a little more acuteness, urged
that mere audition or creaturely presence could not possibly justify
worship from men;--that a man, how glorified soever, was no nearer God in
essence than the vulgarest of the race. Prayer, therefore, was
inapplicable. And how could a _man_ be a mediator between God and man? How
could a _man_ with sins himself offer any compensation for, or expiation
of, sin, unless the most arbitrary caprice were admitted into the counsels
of God? --And so, at last, you see, it was discovered by the better
logicians amongst the Socinians, that there was no such thing as sin at
all.

It is wonderful how any Socinian can read the works of Philo Judaeus
without some pause of doubt in the truth of his views as to the person of
Christ. Whether Philo wrote on his own ground as a Jew, or borrowed from
the Christians, the testimony as to the then Jewish expectation and
belief, is equally strong. You know Philo calls the Logos [Greek: yios
Theoy], the _Son of God_, and [Greek: agap_athon te non], _beloved Son_.
He calls him [Greek: arhchierheus], _high priest_, [Greek: deuterhos
Thehos], _second divinity_, [Greek: ei an Theoy], _image of God_, and
describes him as [Greek: eggutat_o m_adenhos ovtos methorhioy
diast_amatos], the _nearest possible to God without any intervening
separation_. And there are numerous other remarkable expressions of the
same sort.

My faith is this:--God is the Absolute Will: it is his Name and the meaning
of it. It is the Hypostasis. As begetting his own Alterity, the Jehovah,
the Manifested--He is the Father; but the Love and the Life--the Spirit--
proceeds from both.

I think Priestley must be considered the author of the modern
Unitarianism. I owe, under God, my return to the faith, to my having gone
much further than the Unitarians, and so having come round to the other
side. I can truly say, I never falsified the Scripture. I always told them
that their interpretations of the Scripture were intolerable upon any
principles of sound criticism; and that, if they were to offer to construe
the will of a neighbour as they did that of their Maker, they would be
scouted out of society. I said then plainly and openly, that it was clear
enough that John and Paul were not Unitarians. But at that time I had a
strong sense of the repugnancy of the doctrine of vicarious atonement to
the moral being, and I thought nothing could counterbalance that. "What
care I," I said, "for the Platonisms of John, or the Rabbinisms of Paul? --
My conscience revolts! " That was the ground of my Unitarianism.

Always believing in the government of God, I was a fervent Optimist. But as
I could not but see that the present state of things was not the best, I
was necessarily led to look forward to some future state.

* * * * *

You may conceive the difference in kind between the Fancy and the
Imagination in this way,--that if the check of the senses and the reason
were withdrawn, the first would become delirium, and the last mania. The


Fancy brings together images which have no connection natural or moral, but
are yoked together by the poet by means of some accidental coincidence; as
in the well-known passage in Hudibras:

"The sun had long since in the lap
Of Thetis taken out his nap,
And like a lobster boyl'd, the morn
From black to red began to turn. "[1]

The Imagination modifies images, and gives unity to variety; it sees all
things in one, _il piu nell' uno_. There is the epic imagination, the
perfection of which is in Milton; and the dramatic, of which Shakspeare is
the absolute master. The first gives unity by throwing back into the
distance; as after the magnificent approach of the Messiah to battle[2],
the poet, by one touch from himself--

--"far off their coming shone! "--

makes the whole one image.

And so at the conclusion of the description of the appearance of the
entranced angels, in which every sort of image from all the regions of
earth and air is introduced to diversify and illustrate,--the reader is
brought back to the single image by--

"He call'd so loud, that all the hollow deep
Of Hell resounded. "[3]

The dramatic imagination does not throw back, but brings close; it stamps
all nature with one, and that its own, meaning, as in Lear throughout.

[Footnote 1: Part II.