CHAPTER III.

THE LION TAMER.

1. It has been often of late announced as a new discovery, that man is

a creature of circumstances; and the fact has been pressed upon our

notice, in the hope, which appears to some people so pleasing, of

being able at last to resolve into a succession of splashes in mud, or

whirlwinds in air, the circumstances answerable for his creation. But

the more important fact, that his nature is not levelled, like a

mosquito's, to the mists of a marsh, nor reduced, like a mole's,

beneath the crumblings of a burrow, but has been endowed with sense to

discern, and instinct to adopt, the conditions which will make of it

the best that can be, is very necessarily ignored by philosophers who

propose, as a beautiful fulfilment of human destinies, a life

entertained by scientific gossip, in a cellar lighted by electric

sparks, warmed by tubular inflation, drained by buried rivers, and

fed, by the ministry of less learned and better provisioned races,

with extract of beef, and potted crocodile.

2. From these chemically analytic conceptions of a Paradise in

catacombs, undisturbed in its alkaline or acid virtues by the dread of

Deity, or hope of futurity, I know not how far the modern reader may

willingly withdraw himself for a little time, to hear of men who, in

their darkest and most foolish day, sought by their labour to make the

desert as the garden of the Lord, and by their love to become worthy of

permission to live with Him for ever. It has nevertheless been only by

such toil, and in such hope, that, hitherto, the happiness, skill, or

virtue of man have been possible: and even on the verge of the new

dispensation, and promised Canaan, rich in beatitudes of iron, steam,

and fire, there are some of us, here and there, who may pause in filial

piety to look back towards that wilderness of Sinai in which their

fathers worshipped and died.

[Illustration: Plate III.--AMIENS. JOUR DES TRÉPASSÉS. 1880.]

3. Admitting then, for the moment, that the main streets of

Manchester, the district immediately surrounding the Bank in London,

and the Bourse and Boulevards of Paris, are already part of the future

kingdom of Heaven, when Earth shall be all Bourse and Boulevard,--the

world of which our fathers tell us was divided to them, as you already

know, partly by climates, partly by races, partly by times; and the

'circumstances' under which a man's soul was given to him, had to be

considered under these three heads:--In what climate is he? Of what

race? At what time?

He can only be what these conditions permit. With appeal to these, he

is to be heard;--understood, if it may be;--judged, by our love,

first--by our pity, if he need it--by our humility, finally and

always.

4. To this end, it is needful evidently that we should have truthful

maps of the world to begin with, and truthful maps of our own hearts

to end with; neither of these maps being easily drawn at any time, and

perhaps least of all now--when the use of a map is chiefly to exhibit

hotels and railroads; and humility is held the disagreeablest and

meanest of the Seven mortal Sins.

5. Thus, in the beginning of Sir Edward Creasy's History of England,

you find a map purporting to exhibit the possessions of the British

Nation--illustrating the extremely wise and courteous behaviour of Mr.

Fox to a Frenchman of Napoleon's suite, in "advancing to a terrestrial

globe of unusual magnitude and distinctness, spreading his arms round

it, over both the oceans and both the Indies," and observing, in this

impressive attitude, that "while Englishmen live, they overspread the

whole world, and clasp it in the circle of their power."

6. Fired by Mr. Fox's enthusiasm,--the otherwise seldom fiery--Sir

Edward proceeds to tell us that "our island home is the favourite

domicile of freedom, empire and glory," without troubling himself, or

his readers, to consider how long the nations over whom our freedom is

imperious, and in whose shame is our glory, may be satisfied in that

arrangement of the globe and its affairs; or may be even at present

convinced of their degraded position in it by his method of its

delineation.

For, the map being drawn on Mercator's projection, represents

therefore the British dominions in North America as twice the size of

the States, and considerably larger than all South America put

together: while the brilliant crimson with which all our landed

property is coloured cannot but impress the innocent reader with the

idea of a universal flush of freedom and glory throughout all those

acres and latitudes. So that he is scarcely likely to cavil at results

so marvellous by inquiring into the nature and completeness of our

government at any particular place,--for instance in Ireland, in the

Hebrides, or at the Cape.

7. In the closing chapter of the first volume of 'The Laws of Fésole'

I have laid down the mathematical principles of rightly drawing

maps;--principles which for many reasons it is well that my young

readers should learn; the fundamental one being that you cannot

flatten the skin of an orange without splitting it, and must not, if

you draw countries on the unsplit skin, stretch them afterwards to

fill the gaps.

The British pride of wealth which does not deny itself the magnificent

convenience of penny Walter Scotts and penny Shakespeares, may

assuredly, in its future greatness, possess itself also of penny

universes, conveniently spinnable on their axes. I shall therefore

assume that my readers can look at a round globe, while I am talking

of the world; and at a properly reduced drawing of its surfaces, when

I am talking of a country.

8. Which, if my reader can at present do--or at least refer to a

fairly drawn double-circle map of the globe with converging

meridians--I will pray him next to observe, that, although the

old division of the world into four quarters is now nearly

effaced by emigration and Atlantic cable, yet the great historic

question about the globe is not how it is divided, here and there, by

ins and outs of land or sea; but how it is divided into zones all

round, by irresistible laws of light and air. It is often a matter of

very minor interest to know whether a man is an American or African, a

European or an Asiatic. But it is a matter of extreme and final

interest to know if he be a Brazilian or a Patagonian, a Japanese or a

Samoyede.

9. In the course of the last chapter, I asked the reader to hold

firmly the conception of the great division of climate, which

separated the wandering races of Norway and Siberia from the calmly

resident nations of Britain, Gaul, Germany, and Dacia.

Fasten now that division well home in your mind, by drawing, however

rudely, the course of the two rivers, little thought of by common

geographers, but of quite unspeakable importance in human history, the

Vistula and the Dniester.

10. They rise within thirty miles of each other,[24] and each runs, not

counting ins and outs, its clear three hundred miles,--the Vistula to

the north-east, the Dniester to the south-west: the two of them together

cut Europe straight across, at the broad neck of it,--and, more deeply

looking at the thing, they divide Europe, properly so called--Europa's

own, and Jove's,--the small educationable, civilizable, and more or less

mentally rational fragment of the globe, from the great Siberian

wilderness, Cis-Ural and Trans-Ural; the inconceivable chaotic space,

occupied datelessly by Scythians, Tartars, Huns, Cossacks, Bears,

Ermines, and Mammoths, in various thickness of hide, frost of brain, and

woe of abode--or of unabiding. Nobody's history worth making out, has

anything to do with them; for the force of Scandinavia never came round

by Finland at all, but always sailed or paddled itself across the

Baltic, or down the rocky west coast; and the Siberian and Russian

ice-pressure merely drives the really memorable races into greater

concentration, and kneads them up in fiercer and more necessitous

exploring masses. But by those exploring masses, of true European birth,

our own history was fashioned for ever; and, therefore, these two

truncating and guarding rivers are to be marked on your map of Europe

with supreme clearness: the Vistula, with Warsaw astride of it half way

down, and embouchure in Baltic,--the Dniester, in Euxine, flowing each

of them, measured arrow-straight, as far as from Edinburgh to London,

with windings,[25] the Vistula six hundred miles, and the Dniester

five--count them together for a thousand miles of _moat_, between Europe

and the Desert, reaching from Dantzic to Odessa.

[Footnote 24: Taking the 'San' branch of upper Vistula.]

[Footnote 25: Note, however, generally that the strength of a river,

cæteris paribus, is to be estimated by its straight course, windings

being almost always caused by flats in which it can receive no

tributaries.]

11. Having got your Europe moated off into this manageable and

comprehensible space, you are next to fix the limits which divide the

four Gothic countries, Britain, Gaul, Germany, and Dacia, from the

four Classic countries, Spain, Italy, Greece, and Lydia.

There is no other generally opponent term to 'Gothic' but 'Classic':

and I am content to use it, for the sake of practical breadth and

clearness, though its precise meaning for a little while remains

unascertained. Only get the geography well into your mind, and the

nomenclature will settle itself at its leisure.

12. Broadly, then, you have sea between Britain and Spain--Pyrenees

between Gaul and Spain--Alps between Germany and Italy--Danube between

Dacia and Greece. You must consider everything south of the Danube as

Greek, variously influenced from Athens on one side, Byzantium on the

other: then, across the Ægean, you have the great country absurdly

called Asia Minor, (for we might just as well call Greece, Europe Minor,

or Cornwall, England Minor,) but which is properly to be remembered as

'Lydia,' the country which infects with passion, and tempts with wealth;

which taught the Lydian measure in music and softened the Greek language

on its border into Ionic; which gave to ancient history the tale of

Troy, and to Christian history, the glow, and the decline, of the Seven

Churches.

13. Opposite to these four countries in the south, but separated from

them either by sea or desert, are another four, as easily

remembered--Morocco, Libya, Egypt, and Arabia.

Morocco, virtually consisting of the chain of Atlas and the coasts

depending on it, may be most conveniently thought of as including the

modern Morocco and Algeria, with the Canaries as a dependent group of

islands.

Libya, in like manner, will include the modern Tunis and Tripoli: it

will begin on the west with St. Augustine's town of Hippo; and its

coast is colonized from Tyre and Greece, dividing it into the two

districts of Carthage and Cyrene. Egypt, the country of the River, and

Arabia, the country of _no_ River, are to be thought of as the two

great southern powers of separate Religion.

14. You have thus, easily and clearly memorable, twelve countries,

distinct evermore by natural laws, and forming three zones from north

to south, all healthily habitable--but the races of the northernmost,

disciplined in endurance of cold; those of the central zone, perfected

by the enjoyable suns alike of summer and winter; those of the

southern zone, trained to endurance of heat. Writing them now in

tabular view,

Britain Gaul Germany Dacia

Spain Italy Greece Lydia

Morocco Libya Egypt Arabia,

you have the ground of all useful profane history mapped out in the

simplest terms; and then, as the fount of inspiration, for all these

countries, with the strength which every soul that has possessed, has

held sacred and supernatural, you have last to conceive perfectly the

small hill district of the Holy Land, with Philistia and Syria on its

flanks, both of them chastising forces; but Syria, in the beginning,

herself the origin of the chosen race--"A Syrian ready to perish was

my father"--and the Syrian Rachel being thought of always as the true

mother of Israel.

15. And remember, in all future study of the relations of these

countries, you must never allow your mind to be disturbed by the

accidental changes of political limit. No matter who rules a country,

no matter what it is officially called, or how it is formally divided,

eternal bars and doors are set to it by the mountains and seas,

eternal laws enforced over it by the clouds and stars. The people that

are born on it are its people, be they a thousand times again and

again conquered, exiled, or captive. The stranger cannot be its king,

the invader cannot be its possessor; and, although just laws,

maintained whether by the people or their conquerors, have always the

appointed good and strength of justice, nothing is permanently helpful

to any race or condition of men but the spirit that is in their own

hearts, kindled by the love of their native land.

16. Of course, in saying that the invader cannot be the possessor of

any country, I speak only of invasion such as that by the Vandals of

Libya, or by ourselves of India; where the conquering race does not

become permanently inhabitant. You are not to call Libya Vandalia, nor

India England, because these countries are temporarily under the rule

of Vandals and English; neither Italy Gothland under Ostrogoths, nor

England Denmark under Canute. National character varies as it fades

under invasion or in corruption; but if ever it glows again into a new

life, that life must be tempered by the earth and sky of the country

itself. Of the twelve names of countries now given in their order,

only one will be changed as we advance in our history;--Gaul will

properly become France when the Franks become her abiding inhabitants.

The other eleven primary names will serve us to the end.

17. With a moment's more patience, therefore, glancing to the far East,

we shall have laid the foundations of all our own needful geography. As

the northern kingdoms are moated from the Scythian desert by the

Vistula, so the southern are moated from the dynasties properly called

'Oriental' by the Euphrates; which, "partly sunk beneath the Persian

Gulf, reaches from the shores of Beloochistan and Oman to the mountains

of Armenia, and forms a huge hot-air funnel, the base" (or mouth) "of

which is on the tropics, while its extremity reaches thirty-seven

degrees of northern latitude. Hence it comes that the Semoom itself (the

specific and gaseous Semoom) pays occasional visits to Mosoul and

Djezeerat Omer, while the thermometer at Bagdad attains in summer an

elevation capable of staggering the belief of even an old Indian."[26]

[Footnote 26: Sir F. Palgrave, 'Arabia,' vol. ii., p. 155. I gratefully

adopt in the next paragraph his division of Asiatic nations, p. 160.]

18. This valley in ancient days formed the kingdom of Assyria, as the

valley of the Nile formed that of Egypt. In the work now before us, we

have nothing to do with its people, who were to the Jews merely a

hostile power of captivity, inexorable as the clay of their walls, or

the stones of their statues; and, after the birth of Christ, the

marshy valley is no more than a field of battle between West and East.

Beyond the great river,--Persia, India, and China, form the southern

'Oriens.' Persia is properly to be conceived as reaching from the

Persian Gulf to the mountain chains which flank and feed the Indus;

and is the true vital power of the East in the days of Marathon: but

it has no influence on Christian history except through Arabia; while,

of the northern Asiatic tribes, Mede, Bactrian, Parthian, and

Scythian, changing into Turk and Tartar, we need take no heed until

they invade us in our own historic territory.

19. Using therefore the terms 'Gothic' and 'Classic' for broad

distinction of the northern and central zones of this our own territory,

we may conveniently also use the word 'Arab'[27] for the whole southern

zone. The influence of Egypt vanishes soon after the fourth century,

while that of Arabia, powerful from the beginning, rises in the sixth

into an empire whose end we have not seen. And you may most rightly

conceive the religious principle which is the base of that empire, by

remembering, that while the Jews forfeited their prophetic power by

taking up the profession of usury over the whole earth, the Arabs

returned to the simplicity of prophecy in its beginning by the well of

Hagar, and are not opponents to Christianity; but only to the faults or

follies of Christians. They keep still their faith in the one God who

spoke to Abraham their father; and are His children in that simplicity,

far more truly than the nominal Christians who lived, and live, only to

dispute in vociferous council, or in frantic schism, the relations of

the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.

[Footnote 27: Gibbon's fifty-sixth chapter begins with a sentence which

may be taken as the epitome of the entire history we have to

investigate: "The three great nations of the world, the Greeks, the

Saracens, and the Franks, encountered each other on the theatre of

Italy." I use the more general word, Goths, instead of Franks; and the

more accurate word, Arab, for Saracen; but otherwise, the reader will

observe that the division is the same as mine. Gibbon does not

recognize the Roman people as a nation--but only the Roman power as an

empire.]

20. Trusting my reader then in future to retain in his mind without

confusion the idea of the three zones, Gothic, Classic, and Arab, each

divided into four countries, clearly recognizable through all ages of

remote or recent history;--I must farther, at once, simplify for him the

idea of the Roman _Empire_ (see note to last paragraph,) in the manner

of its affecting them. Its nominal extent, temporary conquests, civil

dissensions, or internal vices, are scarcely of any historical moment at

all; the real Empire is effectual only as an exponent of just law,

military order, and mechanical art, to untrained races, and as a

translation of Greek thought into less diffused and more tenable scheme

for them. The Classic zone, from the beginning to the end of its visible

authority, is composed of these two elements--Greek imagination, with

Roman order: and the divisions or dislocations of the third and fourth

century are merely the natural apparitions of their differences, when

the political system which concealed them was tested by Christianity. It

seems almost wholly lost sight of by ordinary historians, that, in the

wars of the last Romans with the Goths, the great Gothic captains were

all Christians; and that the vigorous and naïve form which the dawning

faith took in their minds is a more important subject of investigation,

by far, than the inevitable wars which followed the retirement of

Diocletian, or the confused schisms and crimes of the lascivious court

of Constantine. I am compelled, however, to notice the terms in which

the last arbitrary dissolutions of the empire took place, that they may

illustrate, instead of confusing, the arrangement of the nations which I

would fasten in your memory.

21. In the middle of the fourth century you have, politically, what

Gibbon calls "the final division of the _Eastern_ and _Western

Empires_." This really means only that the Emperor Valentinian,

yielding, though not without hesitation, to the feeling now confirmed in

the legions that the Empire was too vast to be held by a single person,

takes his brother for his colleague, and divides, not, truly speaking,

their authority, but their attention, between the east and the west. To

his brother Valens he assigns the extremely vague "Præfecture of the

East, from the lower Danube to the confines of Persia," while for his

own immediate government he reserves the "warlike præfectures of

Illyricum, Italy, and Gaul, from the extremity of Greece to the

Caledonian rampart, and from the rampart of Caledonia to the foot of

Mount Atlas." That is to say, in less poetical cadence, (Gibbon had

better have put his history into hexameters at once,) Valentinian kept

under his own watch the whole of Roman Europe and Africa, and left Lydia

and Caucasus to his brother. Lydia and Caucasus never did, and never

could, form an Eastern Empire,--they were merely outside dependencies,

useful for taxation in peace, dangerous by their multitudes in war.

There never was, from the seventh century before Christ to the seventh

after Christ, but _one_ Roman Empire, which meant, the power over

humanity of such men as Cincinnatus and Agricola; it expires as the race

and temper of these expire; the nominal extent of it, or brilliancy at

any moment, is no more than the reflection, farther or nearer upon the

clouds, of the flames of an altar whose fuel was of noble souls. There

is no true date for its division; there is none for its destruction.

Whether Dacian Probus or Noric Odoacer be on the throne of it, the force

of its living principle alone is to be watched--remaining, in arts, in

laws, and in habits of thought, dominant still in Europe down to the

twelfth century;--in language and example, dominant over all educated

men to this hour.

22. But in the nominal division of it by Valentinian, let us note

Gibbon's definition (I assume it to be his, not the Emperor's) of

European Roman Empire into Illyricum, Italy, and Gaul. I have already

said you must hold everything south of the Danube for Greek. The two

chief districts immediately south of the stream are upper and lower

Moesia, consisting of the slope of the Thracian mountains northward

to the river, with the plains between it and them. This district you

must notice for its importance in forming the Moeso-Gothic alphabet,

in which "the Greek is by far the principal element",[28] giving

sixteen letters out of the twenty-four. The Gothic invasion under the

reign of Valens is the first that establishes a Teutonic nation within

the frontier of the empire; but they only thereby bring themselves

more directly under its spiritual power. Their bishop, Ulphilas,

adopts this Moesian alphabet, two-thirds Greek, for his translation

of the Bible, and it is universally disseminated and perpetuated by

that translation, until the extinction or absorption of the Gothic

race.

[Footnote 28: Milman, 'Hist., of Christianity,' vol. iii. p. 36.]

23. South of the Thracian mountains you have Thrace herself, and the

countries confusedly called Dalmatia and Illyria, forming the coast of

the Adriatic, and reaching inwards and eastwards to the mountain

watershed. I have never been able to form a clear notion myself of the

real character of the people of these districts, in any given period;

but they are all to be massed together as northern Greek, having more

or less of Greek blood and dialect according to their nearness to

Greece proper; though neither sharing in her philosophy, nor

submitting to her discipline. But it is of course far more accurate,

in broad terms, to speak of these Illyrian, Moesian, and Macedonian

districts as all Greek, than with Gibbon or Valentinian to speak of

Greece and Macedonia as all Illyrian.[29]

[Footnote 29: I find the same generalization expressed to the modern

student under the term 'Balkan Peninsula,' extinguishing every ray and

trace of past history at once.]

24. In the same imperial or poetical generalization, we find England

massed with France under the term Gaul, and bounded by the "Caledonian

rampart." Whereas in our own division, Caledonia, Hibernia, and Wales,

are from the first considered as essential parts of Britain,[30] and

the link with the continent is to be conceived as formed by the

settlement of Britons in Brittany, and not at all by Roman authority

beyond the Humber.

[Footnote 30: Gibbon's more deliberate statement its clear enough.

"From the coast or the extremity of Caithness and Ulster, the memory

of Celtic origin was distinctly preserved in the perpetual resemblance

of languages, religion, and manners, and the peculiar character of the

British tribes might be naturally ascribed to the influence of

accidental and local circumstances." The Lowland Scots, "wheat eaters"

or Wanderers, and the Irish, are very positively identified by Gibbon

at the time our own history begins. "It is _certain_" (italics his,

not mine) "that in the declining age of the Roman Empire, Caledonia,

Ireland, and the Isle of Man, were inhabited by the Scots."--Chap. 25,

vol. iv., p. 279.

The higher civilization and feebler courage of the Lowland _English_

rendered them either the victims of Scotland, or the grateful subjects

of Rome. The mountaineers, Pict among the Grampians, or of their own

colour in Cornwall and Wales, have never been either instructed or

subdued, and remain to this day the artless and fearless strength of

the British race.]

25. Thus, then, once more reviewing our order of countries, and noting

only that the British Islands, though for the most part thrown by

measured degree much north of the rest of the north zone, are brought

by the influence of the Gulf stream into the same climate;--you have,

at the time when our history of Christianity begins, the Gothic zone

yet unconverted, and having not yet even heard of the new faith. You

have the Classic zone variously and increasingly conscious of it,

disputing with it, striving to extinguish it--and your Arab zone, the

ground and sustenance of it, encompassing the Holy Land with the

warmth of its own wings, and cherishing there--embers of phoenix

fire over all the earth,--the hope of Resurrection.

26. What would have been the course, or issue, of Christianity, had it

been orally preached only, and unsupported by its poetical literature,

might be the subject of deeply instructive speculation--if a

historian's duty were to reflect instead of record. The power of the

Christian faith was however, in the fact of it, always founded on the

written prophecies and histories of the Bible; and on the

interpretations of their meaning, given by the example, far more than

by the precept, of the great monastic orders. The poetry and history

of the Syrian Testaments were put within their reach by St. Jerome,

while the virtue and efficiency of monastic life are all expressed,

and for the most part summed, in the rule of St. Benedict. To

understand the relation of the work of these two men to the general

order of the Church, is quite the first requirement for its farther

intelligible history.

Gibbon's thirty-seventh chapter professes to give an account of the

'Institution of the Monastic Life' in the third century. But the

monastic life had been instituted somewhat earlier, and by many

prophets and kings. By Jacob, when he laid the stone for his pillow;

by Moses, when he drew aside to see the burning bush; by David, before

he had left "those few sheep in the wilderness"; and by the prophet

who "was in the deserts till the time of his showing unto Israel." Its

primary "institution," for Europe, was Numa's, in that of the Vestal

Virgins, and College of Augurs; founded on the originally Etrurian and

derived Roman conception of pure life dedicate to the service of God,

and practical wisdom dependent on His guidance.[31]

[Footnote 31: I should myself mark as the fatallest instant in the

decline of the Roman Empire, Julian's rejection of the counsel of the

Augurs. "For the last time, the Etruscan Haruspices accompanied a

Roman Emperor, but by a singular fatality their adverse interpretation

by the signs of heaven was disdained, and Julian followed the advice

of the philosophers, who coloured their predictions with the bright

hues of the Emperor's ambition." (Milman, Hist. of Christianity, chap.

vi.)]

The form which the monastic spirit took in later times depended far more

on the corruption of the common world, from which it was forced to

recoil either in indignation or terror, than on any change brought

about by Christianity in the ideal of human virtue and happiness.

27. "Egypt" (Mr. Gibbon thus begins to account for the new

Institution!), "the fruitful parent of superstition, afforded the

first example of monastic life." Egypt had her superstitions, like

other countries; but was so little the _parent_ of superstition that

perhaps no faith among the imaginative races of the world has been so

feebly missionary as hers. She never prevailed on even the nearest of

her neighbours to worship cats or cobras with her; and I am alone, to

my belief, among recent scholars, in maintaining Herodotus' statement

of her influence on the archaic theology of Greece. But that

influence, if any, was formative and delineative: not ritual: so that

in no case, and in no country, was Egypt the parent of Superstition:

while she was beyond all dispute, for all people and to all time, the

parent of Geometry, Astronomy, Architecture, and Chivalry. She was, in

its material and technic elements, the mistress of Literature, showing

authors who before could only scratch on wax and wood, how to weave

paper and engrave porphyry. She was the first exponent of the law of

Judgment after Death for Sin. She was the Tutress of Moses; and the

Hostess of Christ.

28. It is both probable and natural that, in such a country, the

disciples of any new spiritual doctrine should bring it to closer

trial than was possible among the illiterate warriors, or in the

storm-vexed solitudes of the North; yet it is a thoughtless error to

deduce the subsequent power of cloistered fraternity from the lonely

passions of Egyptian monachism. The anchorites of the first three

centuries vanish like feverish spectres, when the rational, merciful,

and laborious laws of Christian societies are established; and the

clearly recognizable rewards of heavenly solitude are granted to those

only who seek the Desert for its redemption.

29. 'The clearly _recognizable_ rewards,' I repeat, and with cautious

emphasis. No man has any data for estimating, far less right of judging,

the results of a life of resolute self-denial, until he has had the

courage to try it himself, at least for a time: but I believe no

reasonable person will wish, and no honest person dare, to deny the

benefits he has occasionally felt both in mind and body, during periods

of accidental privation from luxury, or exposure to danger. The extreme

vanity of the modern Englishman in making a momentary Stylites of

himself on the top of a Horn or an Aiguille, and his occasional

confession of a charm in the solitude of the rocks, of which he modifies

nevertheless the poignancy with his pocket newspaper, and from the

prolongation of which he thankfully escapes to the nearest table-d'hôte,

ought to make us less scornful of the pride, and more intelligent of the

passion, in which the mountain anchorites of Arabia and Palestine

condemned themselves to lives of seclusion and suffering, which were

comforted only by supernatural vision, or celestial hope. That phases of

mental disease are the necessary consequence of exaggerated and

independent emotion of any kind must, of course, be remembered in

reading the legends of the wilderness; but neither physicians nor

moralists have yet attempted to distinguish the morbid states of

intellect[32] which are extremities of noble passion, from those which

are the punishments of ambition, avarice, or lasciviousness.

[Footnote 32: Gibbon's hypothetical conclusion respecting the effects

of self-mortification, and his following historical statement, must be

noted as in themselves containing the entire views of the modern

philosophies and policies which have since changed the monasteries of

Italy into barracks, and the churches of France into magazines. "This

voluntary martyrdom _must_ have gradually destroyed the sensibility,

both of mind and body; nor _can it be presumed_ that the fanatics who

torment themselves, are capable of any lively affection for the rest

of mankind. _A cruel unfeeling temper has characterized the monks of

every age and country._"

How much of penetration, or judgment, this sentence exhibits, I hope

will become manifest to the reader as I unfold before him the actual

history of his faith; but being, I suppose, myself one of the last

surviving witnesses of the character of recluse life as it still

existed in the beginning of this century, I can point to the

portraiture of it given by Scott in the introduction to 'The

Monastery' as one perfect and trustworthy, to the letter and to the

spirit; and for myself can say, that the most gentle, refined, and in

the deepest sense amiable, phases of character I have ever known, have

been either those of monks, or of servants trained in the Catholic

Faith.]

30. Setting all questions of this nature aside for the moment, my

younger readers need only hold the broad fact that during the whole of

the fourth century, multitudes of self-devoted men led lives of

extreme misery and poverty in the effort to obtain some closer

knowledge of the Being and Will of God. We know, in any available

clearness, neither what they suffered, nor what they learned. We

cannot estimate the solemnizing or reproving power of their examples

on the less zealous Christian world; and only God knows how far their

prayers for it were heard, or their persons accepted. This only we may

observe with reverence, that among all their numbers, none seemed to

have repented their chosen manner of existence; none perish by

melancholy or suicide; their self-adjudged sufferings are never

inflicted in the hope of shortening the lives they embitter or purify;

and the hours of dream or meditation, on mountain or in cave, appear

seldom to have dragged so heavily as those which, without either

vision or reflection, we pass ourselves, on the embankment and in the

tunnel.

31. But whatever may be alleged, after ultimate and honest scrutiny,

of the follies or virtues of anchorite life, we are unjust to Jerome

if we think of him as its introducer into the West of Europe. He

passed through it himself as a phase of spiritual discipline; but he

represents, in his total nature and final work, not the vexed

inactivity of the Eremite, but the eager industry of a benevolent

tutor and pastor. His heart is in continual fervour of admiration or

of hope--remaining to the last as impetuous as a child's, but as

affectionate; and the discrepancies of Protestant objection by which

his character has been confused, or concealed, may be gathered into

some dim picture of his real self when once we comprehend the

simplicity of his faith, and sympathise a little with the eager

charity which can so easily be wounded into indignation, and is never

repressed by policy.

32. The slight trust which can be placed in modern readings of him, as

they now stand, may be at once proved by comparing the two passages in

which Milman has variously guessed at the leading principles of his

political conduct. "Jerome began (!) and ended his career as a monk of

Palestine; he attained, _he aspired to_, no dignity in the Church.

Though ordained a presbyter against his will, he escaped the episcopal

dignity which was forced upon his distinguished contemporaries."

('History of Christianity,' Book III.)

"Jerome cherished the secret hope, if it was not the avowed object of

his ambition, to succeed Damasus as Bishop of Rome. Is the rejection

of an aspirant so singularly unfit for the station, from his violent

passions, his insolent treatment of his adversaries, his utter want of

self-command, his almost unrivalled faculty of awakening hatred, to be

attributed to the sagacious and intuitive wisdom of Rome?" ('History

of Latin Christianity,' Book I., chap. ii.)

33. You may observe, as an almost unexceptional character in the

"sagacious wisdom" of the Protestant clerical mind, that it

instinctively assumes the desire of power and place not only to be

universal in Priesthood, but to be always _purely selfish_ in the ground

of it. The idea that power might possibly be desired for the sake of its

benevolent use, so far as I remember, does not once occur in the pages

of any ecclesiastical historian of recent date. In our own reading of

past ages we will, with the reader's permission, very calmly put out of

court all accounts of "hopes cherished in secret"; and pay very small

attention to the reasons for mediæval conduct which appear logical to

the rationalist, and probable to the politician.[33] We concern

ourselves only with what these singular and fantastic Christians of the

past really said, and assuredly did.

[Footnote 33: The habit of assuming, for the conduct of men of sense

and feeling, motives intelligible to the foolish, and probable to the

base, gains upon every vulgar historian, partly in the ease of it,

partly in the pride; and it is horrible to contemplate the quantity of

false witness against their neighbours which commonplace writers

commit, in the mere rounding and enforcing of their shallow sentences.

"Jerome admits, indeed, with _specious but doubtful humility_, the

inferiority of the unordained monk to the ordained priest," says Dean

Milman in his eleventh chapter, following up his gratuitous doubt of

Jerome's humility with no less gratuitous asseveration of the ambition

of his opponents. "The clergy, _no doubt_, had the sagacity to foresee

the _dangerous_ rival as to influence and authority, which was rising

up in Christian society."]

34. Jerome's life by no means "began as a monk of Palestine." Dean

Milman has not explained to us how any man's could; but Jerome's

childhood, at any rate, was extremely other than recluse, or

precociously religious. He was born of rich parents living on their

own estate, the name of his native town in North Illyria, Stridon,

perhaps now softened into Strigi, near Aquileia. In Venetian climate,

at all events, and in sight of Alps and sea. He had a brother and

sister, a kind grandfather, and a disagreeable private tutor, and was

a youth still studying grammar at Julian's death in 363.

35. A youth of eighteen, and well begun in all institutes of the

classic schools; but, so far from being a monk, not yet a

Christian;--nor at all disposed towards the severer offices even of

Roman life! or contemplating with aversion the splendours, either

worldly or sacred, which shone on him in the college days spent in its

Capital city.

For the "power and majesty of Paganism were still concentrated at Rome;

the deities of the ancient faith found their last refuge in the capital

of the empire. To the stranger, Rome still offered the appearance of a

Pagan city. It contained one hundred and fifty-two temples, and one

hundred and eighty smaller chapels or shrines, still sacred to their

tutelary God, and used for public worship. Christianity had neither

ventured to usurp those few buildings which might be converted to her

use, still less had she the power to destroy them. The religious

edifices were under the protection of the præfect of the city, and the

præfect was usually a Pagan; at all events he would not permit any

breach of the public peace, or violation of public property. Above all

still towered the Capitol, in its unassailed and awful majesty, with its

fifty temples or shrines, bearing the most sacred names in the religious

and civil annals of Rome, those of Jove, of Mars, of Janus, of Romulus,

of Cæsar, of Victory. Some years after the accession of Theodosius to

the Eastern Empire, the sacrifices were still performed as national

rites at the public cost,--_the pontiffs made their offerings in the

name of the whole human race_. The Pagan orator ventures to assert that

the Emperor dared not to endanger the safety of the empire by their

abolition. The Emperor still bore the title and insignia of the Supreme

Pontiff; the Consuls, before they entered upon their functions, ascended

the Capitol; the religious processions passed along the crowded streets,

and the people thronged to the festivals and theatres which still formed

part of the Pagan worship."[34]

[Footnote 34: Milman, 'History of Christianity,' vol. iii. p. 162. Note

the sentence in italics, for it relates the true origin of the

Papacy.]

36. Here, Jerome must have heard of what by all the Christian sects

was held the judgment of God, between them and their chief enemy--the

death of the Emperor Julian. But I have no means of tracing, and will

not conjecture, the course of his own thoughts, until the tenor of all

his life was changed at his baptism. The candour which lies at the

basis of his character has given us one sentence of his own,

respecting that change, which is worth some volumes of ordinary

confessions. "I left, not only parents and kindred, but _the

accustomed luxuries of delicate life_." The words throw full light on

what, to our less courageous temper, seems the exaggerated reading by

the early converts of Christ's words to them--"He that loveth father

or mother more than me, is not worthy of me." We are content to leave,

for much lower interests, either father or mother, and do not see the

necessity of any farther sacrifice: we should know more of ourselves

and of Christianity if we oftener sustained what St. Jerome found the

more searching trial. I find scattered indications of contempt among

his biographers, because he could not resign one indulgence--that of

scholarship; and the usual sneers at monkish ignorance and indolence

are in his case transferred to the weakness of a pilgrim who carried

his library in his wallet. It is a singular question (putting, as it

is the modern fashion to do, the idea of Providence wholly aside),

whether, but for the literary enthusiasm, which was partly a weakness,

of this old man's character, the Bible would ever have become the

library of Europe.

37. For that, observe, is the real meaning, in its first power, of the

word _Bible_. Not book, merely; but 'Bibliotheca,' Treasury of Books:

and it is, I repeat, a singular question, how far, if Jerome, at the

very moment when Rome, his tutress, ceased from her material power,

had not made her language the oracle of Hebrew prophecy, a literature

of their own, and a religion unshadowed by the terrors of the Mosaic

law, might have developed itself in the hearts of the Goth, the Frank,

and the Saxon, under Theodoric, Clovis, and Alfred.

38. Fate had otherwise determined, and Jerome was so passive an

instrument in her hands that he began the study of Hebrew as a

discipline only, and without any conception of the task he was to

fulfil, still less of the scope of its fulfilment. I could joyfully

believe that the words of Christ, "If they hear not Moses and the

Prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one rose from the

dead," had haunted the spirit of the recluse, until he resolved that

the voices of immortal appeal should be made audible to the Churches

of all the earth. But so far as we have evidence, there was no such

will or hope to exalt the quiet instincts of his natural industry; and

partly as a scholar's exercise, partly as an old man's recreation, the

severity of the Latin language was softened, like Venetian crystal, by

the variable fire of Hebrew thought, and the "Book of Books" took the

abiding form of which all the future art of the Western nations was to

be an hourly expanding interpretation.

39. And in this matter you have to note that the gist of it lies, not in

the translation of the Hebrew and Greek Scriptures into an easier and a

common language, but in their presentation to the Church as of common

authority. The earlier Gentile Christians had naturally a tendency to

carry out in various oral exaggeration or corruption, the teaching of

the Apostle of the Gentiles, until their freedom from the bondage of the

Jewish law passed into doubt of its inspiration; and, after the fall of

Jerusalem, even into horror-stricken interdiction of its observance. So

that, only a few years after the remnant of exiled Jews in Pella had

elected the Gentile Marcus for their Bishop, and obtained leave to

return to the Ælia Capitolina built by Hadrian on Mount Zion, "it became

a matter of doubt and controversy whether a man who sincerely

acknowledged Jesus as the Messiah, but who still continued to observe

the law of Moses, could possibly hope for salvation!"[35] While, on the

other hand, the most learned and the most wealthy of the Christian name,

under the generally recognised title of "knowing" (Gnostic), had more

insidiously effaced the authority of the Evangelists by dividing

themselves, during the course of the third century, "into more than

fifty numerably distinct sects, and producing a multitude of histories,

in which the actions and discourses of Christ and His Apostles were

adapted to their several tenets."[36]

[Footnote 35: Gibbon, chap. xv. (II. 277).]

[Footnote 36: Ibid., II. 283. His expression "the most learned and most

wealthy" should be remembered in confirmation of the evermore

recurring fact of Christianity, that minds modest in attainment, and

lives careless of gain, are fittest for the reception of every

constant,--_i.e._ not local or accidental,--Christian principle.]

40. It would be a task of great, and in nowise profitable difficulty

to determine in what measure the consent of the general Church, and in

what measure the act and authority of Jerome, contributed to fix in

their ever since undisturbed harmony and majesty, the canons of Mosaic

and Apostolic Scripture. All that the young reader need know is, that

when Jerome died at Bethlehem, this great deed was virtually

accomplished: and the series of historic and didactic books which form

our present Bible, (including the Apocrypha) were established in and

above the nascent thought of the noblest races of men living on the

terrestrial globe, as a direct message to them from its Maker,

containing whatever it was necessary for them to learn of His purposes

towards them, and commanding, or advising, with divine authority and

infallible wisdom, all that was best for them to do, and happiest to

desire.

41. And it is only for those who have obeyed the law sincerely,

to say how far the hope held out to them by the law-giver has been

fulfilled. The worst "children of disobedience" are those who accept,

of the Word, what they like, and refuse what they hate: nor is this

perversity in them always conscious, for the greater part of the sins

of the Church have been brought on it by enthusiasm which, in

passionate contemplation and advocacy of parts of the Scripture easily

grasped, neglected the study, and at last betrayed the balance, of the

rest. What forms and methods of self-will are concerned in the

wresting of the Scriptures to a man's destruction, is for the keepers

of consciences to examine, not for us. The history we have to learn

must be wholly cleared of such debate, and the influence of the Bible

watched exclusively on the persons who receive the Word with joy, and

obey it in truth.

42. There has, however, been always a farther difficulty in examining

the power of the Bible, than that of distinguishing honest from

dishonest readers. The hold of Christianity on the souls of men must

be examined, when we come to close dealing with it, under these three

several heads: there is first, the power of the Cross itself, and of

the theory of salvation, upon the heart,--then, the operation of the

Jewish and Greek Scriptures on the intellect,--then, the influence on

morals of the teaching and example of the living hierarchy. And in the

comparison of men as they are and as they might have been, there are

these three questions to be separately kept in mind,--first, what

would have been the temper of Europe without the charity and labour

meant by 'bearing the cross'; then, secondly, what would the intellect

of Europe have become without Biblical literature; and lastly, what

would the social order of Europe have become without its hierarchy.

43. You see I have connected the words 'charity' and 'labour' under

the general term of 'bearing the cross.' "If any man will come after

me, let him deny himself, (for charity) and take up his cross (of

pain) and follow me."

The idea has been _exactly_ reversed by modern Protestantism, which

sees, in the cross, not a furca to which it is to be nailed;

but a raft on which it, and all its valuable properties,[37] are to be

floated into Paradise.

[Footnote 37: Quite one of the most curious colours of modern

Evangelical thought is its pleasing connection of Gospel truth with

the extension of lucrative commerce! See farther the note at p. 83.]

44. Only, therefore, in days when the Cross was received with courage,

the Scripture searched with honesty, and the Pastor heard in faith,

can the pure word of God, and the bright sword of the Spirit, be

recognised in the heart and hand of Christianity. The effect of

Biblical poetry and legend on its intellect, must be traced farther,

through decadent ages, and in unfenced fields;--producing 'Paradise

Lost' for us, no less than the 'Divina Commedia';--Goethe's 'Faust,'

and Byron's 'Cain,' no less than the 'Imitatio Christi.'

45. Much more, must the scholar, who would comprehend in any degree

approaching to completeness, the influence of the Bible on mankind, be

able to read the interpretations of it which rose into the great arts of

Europe at their culmination. In every province of Christendom, according

to the degree of art-power it possessed, a series of illustrations of

the Bible were produced as time went on; beginning with vignetted

illustrations of manuscript, advancing into life-size sculpture, and

concluding in perfect power of realistic painting. These teachings and

preachings of the Church, by means of art, are not only a most important

part of the general Apostolic Acts of Christianity; but their study is a

necessary part of Biblical scholarship, so that no man can in any large

sense understand the Bible itself until he has learned also to read

these national commentaries upon it, and been made aware of their

collective weight. The Protestant reader, who most imagines himself

independent in his thought, and private in his study, of Scripture, is

nevertheless usually at the mercy of the nearest preacher who has a

pleasant voice and ingenious fancy; receiving from him thankfully, and

often reverently, whatever interpretation of texts the agreeable voice

or ready wit may recommend: while, in the meantime, he remains entirely

ignorant of, and if left to his own will, invariably destroys as

injurious, the deeply meditated interpretations of Scripture which, in

their matter, have been sanctioned by the consent of all the Christian

Church for a thousand years; and in their treatment, have been exalted

by the trained skill and inspired imagination of the noblest souls ever

enclosed in mortal clay.

46. There are few of the fathers of the Christian Church whose

commentaries on the Bible, or personal theories of its gospel, have

not been, to the constant exultation of the enemies of the Church,

fretted and disgraced by angers of controversy, or weakened and

distracted by irreconcilable heresy. On the contrary, the scriptural

teaching, through their art, of such men as Orcagna, Giotto, Angelico,

Luca della Robbia, and Luini, is, literally, free from all earthly

taint of momentary passion; its patience, meekness, and quietness are

incapable of error through either fear or anger; they are able,

without offence, to say all that they wish; they are bound by

tradition into a brotherhood which represents unperverted doctrines by

unchanging scenes; and they are compelled by the nature of their work

to a deliberation and order of method which result in the purest state

and frankest use of all intellectual power.

47. I may at once, and without need of returning to this question,

illustrate the difference in dignity and safety between the mental

actions of literature and art, by referring to a passage, otherwise

beautifully illustrative of St. Jerome's sweetness and simplicity of

character, though quoted, in the place where we find it, with no such

favouring intention,--namely, in the pretty letter of Queen Sophie

Charlotte, (father's mother of Frederick the Great,) to the Jesuit

Vota, given in part by Carlyle in his first volume, ch. iv.

"'How can St. Jerome, for example, be a key to Scripture?' she

insinuates; citing from Jerome this remarkable avowal of his method of

composing books;--especially of his method in that book, _Commentary on

the Galatians_, where he accuses both Peter and Paul of simulation, and

even of hypocrisy. The great St. Augustine has been charging him with

this sad fact, (says her Majesty, who gives chapter and verse,) and

Jerome answers, 'I followed the commentaries of Origen, of'--five or

six different persons, who turned out mostly to be heretics before

Jerome had quite done with them, in coming years, 'And to confess the

honest truth to you,' continues Jerome, 'I read all that, and after

having crammed my head with a great many things, I sent for my

amanuensis, and dictated to him, now my own thoughts, now those of

others, without much recollecting the order, nor sometimes the words,

nor even the sense'! In another place, (in the book itself further

on[38]) he says, 'I do not myself write; I have an amanuensis, and I

dictate to him what comes into my mouth. If I wish to reflect a little,

or to say the thing better, or a better thing, he knits his brows, and

the whole look of him tells me sufficiently that he cannot endure to

wait.' Here is a sacred old gentleman whom it is not safe to depend upon

for interpreting the Scriptures,--thinks her Majesty, but does not say

so,--leaving Father Vota to his reflections." Alas, no, Queen Sophie,

neither old St. Jerome's, nor any other human lips nor mind, may be

depended upon in that function; but only the Eternal Sophia, the Power

of God and the Wisdom of God: yet this you may see of your old

interpreter, that he is wholly open, innocent, and true, and that,

through such a person, whether forgetful of his author, or hurried by

his scribe, it is more than probable you may hear what Heaven knows to

be best for you; and extremely improbable you should take the least

harm,--while by a careful and cunning master in the literary art,

reticent of his doubts, and dexterous in his sayings, any number of

prejudices or errors might be proposed to you acceptably, or even

fastened in you fatally, though all the while you were not the least

required to confide in his inspiration.

[Footnote 38: 'Commentary on the Galatians,' Chap. iii.]

48. For indeed, the only confidence, and the only safety which in such

matters we can either hold or hope, are in our own desire to be rightly

guided, and willingness to follow in simplicity the guidance granted.

But all our conceptions and reasonings on the subject of inspiration

have been disordered by our habit, first of distinguishing falsely--or

at least needlessly--between inspiration of words and of acts; and

secondly by our attribution of inspired strength or wisdom to some

persons or some writers only, instead of to the whole body of believers,

in so far as they are partakers of the Grace of Christ, the Love of God,

and the Fellowship of the Holy Ghost. In the degree in which every

Christian receives, or refuses, the several gifts expressed by that

general benediction, he enters or is cast out from the inheritance of

the saints,--in the exact degree in which he denies the Christ, angers

the Father, and grieves the Holy Spirit, he becomes uninspired or

unholy,--and in the measure in which he trusts Christ, obeys the Father,

and consents with the Spirit, he becomes inspired in feeling, act, word,

and reception of word, according to the capacities of his nature. He is

not gifted with higher ability, nor called into new offices, but enabled

to use his granted natural powers, in their appointed place, to the best

purpose. A child is inspired as a child, and a maiden as a maiden; the

weak, even in their weakness, and the wise, only in their hour.

That is the simply determinable _theory_ of the inspiration of all

true members of the Church; its truth can only be known by proving it

in trial: but I believe there is no record of any man's having tried

and declared it vain.[39]

[Footnote 39: Compare the closing paragraph in p. 45 of 'The Shrine of

the Slaves.' Strangely, as I revise _this_ page for press, a slip is

sent me from 'The Christian' newspaper, in which the comment of the

orthodox evangelical editor may be hereafter representative to us of

the heresy of his sect; in its last audacity, actually _opposing_ the

power of the Spirit to the work of Christ. (I only wish I had been at

Matlock, and heard the kind physician's sermon.)

"An interesting and somewhat unusual sight was seen in Derbyshire on

Saturday last--two old fashioned Friends, dressed in the original garb

of the Quakers, preaching on the roadside to a large and attentive

audience in Matlock. One of them, who is a doctor in good practice in

the county, by name Dr. Charles A. Fox, made a powerful and effective

appeal to his audience to see to it that each one was living in

obedience to the light of the Holy Spirit within. Christ _within_ was

the hope of glory, and it was as He was followed in the ministry of

the Spirit that we were saved by Him, who became thus to each the

author and finisher of faith. He cautioned his hearers against

building their house on the sand by believing in the free and easy

Gospel so commonly preached to the wayside hearers, as if we were

saved by 'believing' this or that. Nothing short of the work of the

Holy Ghost in the soul of each one could save us, and to preach

anything short of this was simply to delude the simple and unwary in

the most terrible form.

"[It would be unfair to criticise an address from so brief an

abstract, but we must express our conviction that the obedience of

Christ unto death, the death of the Cross, _rather_ than the work of

the Spirit in us, is the good tidings for sinful men.--Ed.]"

In juxtaposition with this editorial piece of modern British press

theology, I will simply place the 4th, 6th, and 13th verses of Romans

viii., italicising the expressions which are of deepest import, and

always neglected. "That the _righteousness of the_ LAW might be

fulfilled _in us_, who walk not after the flesh, but after the

Spirit.... For to be carnally _minded_, is death, but to be

spiritually _minded_, is life, and peace.... For if ye live after the

flesh, ye shall die; but if _ye through the Spirit_ do mortify the

_deeds_ of the body, ye shall live."

It would be well for Christendom if the Baptismal service explained

what it professes to abjure.]

49. Beyond this theory of general inspiration, there is that of

special call and command, with actual dictation of the deeds to be

done or words to be said. I will enter at present into no examination

of the evidences of such separating influence; it is not claimed by

the Fathers of the Church, either for themselves, or even for the

entire body of the Sacred writers, but only ascribed to certain

passages dictated at certain times for special needs: and there is no

possibility of attaching the idea of infallible truth to any form of

human language in which even these exceptional passages have been

delivered to us. But this is demonstrably true of the entire volume of

them as we have it, and read,--each of us as it may be rendered in his

native tongue; that, however mingled with mystery which we are not

required to unravel, or difficulties which we should be insolent in

desiring to solve, it contains plain teaching for men of every rank of

soul and state of life, which so far as they honestly and implicitly

obey, they will be happy and innocent to the utmost powers of their

nature, and capable of victory over all adversities, whether of

temptation or pain.

50. Indeed, the Psalter alone, which practically was the service book of

the Church for many ages, contains merely in the first half of it the

sum of personal and social wisdom. The 1st, 8th, 12th, 14th, 15th,

19th, 23rd, and 24th psalms, well learned and believed, are enough for

all personal guidance; the 48th, 72nd, and 75th, have in them the law

and the prophecy of all righteous government; and every real triumph of

natural science is anticipated in the 104th.

51. For the contents of the entire volume, consider what other group

of historic and didactic literature has a range comparable with it.

There are--

I. The stories of the Fall and of the Flood, the grandest human

traditions founded on a true horror of sin.

II. The story of the Patriarchs, of which the effective truth is

visible to this day in the polity of the Jewish and Arab races.

III. The story of Moses, with the results of that tradition in the

moral law of all the civilized world.

IV. The story of the Kings--virtually that of all Kinghood, in David,

and of all Philosophy, in Solomon: culminating in the Psalms and

Proverbs, with the still more close and practical wisdom of

Ecclesiasticus and the Son of Sirach.

V. The story of the Prophets--virtually that of the deepest mystery,

tragedy, and permanent fate, of national existence.

VI. The story of Christ.

VII. The moral law of St. John, and his closing Apocalypse of its

fulfilment.

Think, if you can match that table of contents in any other--I do not

say 'book' but 'literature.' Think, so far as it is possible for any

of us--either adversary or defender of the faith--to extricate his

intelligence from the habit and the association of moral sentiment

based upon the Bible, what literature could have taken its place, or

fulfilled its function, though every library in the world had remained

unravaged, and every teacher's truest words had been written down?

52. I am no despiser of profane literature. So far from it that I

believe no interpretations of Greek religion have ever been so

affectionate, none of Roman religion so reverent, as those which will be

found at the base of my art teaching, and current through the entire

body of my works. But it was from the Bible that I learned the symbols

of Homer, and the faith of Horace; the duty enforced upon me in early

youth of reading every word of the gospels and prophecies as if written

by the hand of God, gave me the habit of awed attention which afterwards

made many passages of the profane writers, frivolous to an irreligious

reader, deeply grave to me. How far my mind has been paralysed by the

faults and sorrow of life,--how far short its knowledge may be of what I

might have known, had I more faithfully walked in the light I had, is

beyond my conjecture or confession: but as I never wrote for my own

pleasure or self-proclaiming, I have been guarded, as men who so write

always will be, from errors dangerous to others; and the fragmentary

expressions of feeling or statements of doctrine, which from time to

time I have been able to give, will be found now by an attentive reader

to bind themselves together into a general system of interpretation of

Sacred literature,--both classic and Christian, which will enable him

without injustice to sympathize in the faiths of candid and generous

souls, of every age and every clime.

53. That there _is_ a Sacred classic literature, running parallel with

that of the Hebrews, and coalescing in the symbolic legends of

mediæval Christendom, is shown in the most tender and impressive way

by the independent, yet similar, influence of Virgil upon Dante, and

upon Bishop Gawaine Douglas. At earlier dates, the teaching of every

master trained in the Eastern schools was necessarily grafted on the

wisdom of the Greek mythology; and thus the story of the Nemean Lion,

with the aid of Athena in its conquest, is the real root-stock of the

legend of St. Jerome's companion, conquered by the healing gentleness

of the Spirit of Life.

54. I call it a legend only. Whether Heracles ever slew, or St. Jerome

ever cherished, the wild or wounded creature, is of no moment to us in

learning what the Greeks meant by their vase-outlines of the great

contest, or the Christian painters by their fond insistence on the

constancy of the Lion-friend. Former tradition, in the story of

Samson,--of the disobedient prophet,--of David's first inspired victory,

and finally of the miracle wrought in the defence of the most favoured

and most faithful of the greater Prophets, runs always parallel in

symbolism with the Dorian fable: but the legend of St. Jerome takes up

the prophecy of the Millennium, and foretells, with the Cumæan Sibyl,

and with Isaiah, a day when the Fear of Man shall be laid in

benediction, not enmity, on inferior beings,--when they shall not hurt

nor destroy in all the holy Mountain, and the Peace of the Earth shall

be as far removed from its present sorrow, as the present gloriously

animate universe from the nascent desert, whose deeps were the place of

dragons, and its mountains, domes of fire.

Of that day knoweth no man; but the Kingdom of God is already come to

those who have tamed in their own hearts what was rampant of the lower

nature, and have learned to cherish what is lovely and human, in the

wandering children of the clouds and fields.

AVALLON, _28th August_, 1882.

Our Fathers Have Told Us Part I. The Bible of Amiens · 第 3 / 5 章