"It was secretly and perhaps tacitly resolved," he says, "by the

prince and people (Greek) to destroy, or at least to discourage

the pilgrims by every species of injury and oppression, and their

want of prudence and discipline continually afforded the pretence

or the opportunity. The western monarchs had stipulated a safe

passage and a fair market in the country of their Christian

brethren; the treaty had been ratified by oath and hostages, and

the poorest soldier of Frederic's army was furnished with three

marks of silver to defray his expenses on the road. But every

engagement was violated by treachery and injustice, and the

complaints of the Latins are attested by the honest confession of

a Greek historian who has dared to prefer truth to his country.

Instead of a hospitable reception, the gates of the cities, both

in Europe and Asia, were closely barred against the Crusaders,

and the scanty pittance of food was let down from the walls....

In every step of their march they were stopped or misled; the

governors had private orders to fortify the passes and break

down the bridges against them; the stragglers were pillaged and

murdered; the soldiers and horses were pierced in the woods by

arrows from an invisible hand; the sick were burnt in their beds;

and the dead bodies were hung on gibbets along the highways. These

injuries exasperated the champions of the cross, who were not

endowed with evangelical patience, and the Byzantine princes, who

had provoked the unequal conflict, promoted the embarkation and

march of these formidable guests."

As far as Innocent III. is concerned, it is evident from his letters

that he was wholly averse to the capture of Constantinople, and that

he accepted the establishment of the new empire only as a means of

securing the soil which had been hallowed by the footsteps of our

Lord. And when he appointed Thomas Morosini in the place of John

Lamater, who had deserted his see, he only used his supreme authority

as the head of the church.

"Innocent," says Mr. Ffoulkes, "was no lawless invader of the

rights of others, but rather one of the most eminent and exact

canonists that ever adorned the chair of Peter; and if he took the

loftiest views of the prerogatives of his see, it was because he

believed them to be thoroughly consonant with law and equity."

We think our objector must have been driven for argument, and

somewhat demented, when he sought the Crusades for witnesses against

the authority and conceded rights of the Roman pontiff.

5. Now comes the conclusion, which is not contained in the premises,

but which, as the _ex cathedra_ assertion of Mr. E. S. Ffoulkes,

has all the value of his personal experience. He joined the

Catholic Church some years ago, and has not yet formally renounced

it, as far as we know, although he has incurred an _ipso facto_

excommunication by obstinately sustaining heretical propositions

and refusing submission to the judgment of the holy see. He went

often to confession and communion until he was refused permission

to receive the sacraments. He does not tell the world that he

purposes to leave us, though he does say that he ought never to have

abandoned the English Church, whose memories still expand his heart.

He charges the pope with being an usurper by many means of fraud,

and he even seems to deny any patriarchal jurisdiction in England.

Being a judge of the operations of the Holy Spirit, he finds that

converts do not become any more pious by their submission to Rome,

and to his mind the Protestant parsonage is "the perfect ideal of

practical Christianity." To illustrate what a peculiar mind he has,

we will only add, as a piece of curious information, that he draws

conclusions from what the Council of Trent did not do. "Luther was

excommunicated, but the Confession of Augsburg has not been yet

anathematized." "Queen Elizabeth was deposed, but the council

deliberately abstained from affirming that the bishops consecrated in

her reign were no bishops." "Even the Thirty-nine Articles _escaped

censure_." "Anglican orders, if they have not been recognized in

practice, have never been declared invalid; still less have the

grounds of their invalidity been set forth." Our readers who know

any thing of ecclesiastical history may judge whether Mr. Ffoulkes

is sane or not. What else did the Council of Trent do but condemn

the peculiar tenets of Augsburg, and the doctrines contained in the

Thirty-nine Articles? Can any thing be plainer than this? How have

Anglican orders been passed over in silence, or even delicately

handled? Every child who reads the Catholic catechism knows that holy

order is a sacrament that cannot be reiterated without sacrilege. Yet

in every instance where an Anglican minister has been advanced to any

order of the clergy, ordination has been given, as to a mere layman,

and that without any condition whatever. Such has been the invariable

practice of the church, and this upon the highest authority, so that

it has passed into a universal rule. "Anglican orders," he says,

"have never been declared invalid; still less have the grounds of

their invalidity been set forth." We will quote him a decision of the

Holy Office and a decree of the pope, bearing date April 17th, 1704.

As he has found so many things which are substantially untrue, why

did he not find this decree before he ventured to publish his letter?

We give as nearly a literal translation as possible:

"In the general Congregation of the Holy Roman and Universal

Inquisition, held in the apostolical palace at St. Peter's,

in the presence of our most holy lord, Clement XI., by divine

providence pope, and the most eminent and reverend lords, the

cardinals of the holy Roman Church, the aforesaid memorial having

been read, our most holy lord, the aforesaid pope, having heard

the sentiments of the same eminent personages, decreed that the

petitioner, John Clement Gordon, be promoted from the commencement

to all, even the holy orders, and the priesthood; and that, as he

has not been fortified by the sacrament of confirmation, he be

confirmed."

Dr. Gordon was the Anglican bishop of Galloway. He went to Rome,

and was there received into the communion of the church. The whole

question of his orders was carefully examined, and the above is

the conclusion of the supreme authority of the Roman pontiff. "The

grounds of the invalidity of English orders have never been set

forth," says Mr. Ffoulkes. Let us still further quote the petition in

the case of Dr. Gordon:

"It cannot be granted that they (the Anglican bishops) have

received the ministry from Catholics, since no evidence is

produced of successive ordination. Without this, there remains no

vestige of consecration with these heretics, besides a ministry

derived from the people or a lay-prince. Moreover, supposing

even that some one of them had received, by means of legitimate

succession, the episcopal ordination and consecration, (which,

however, is by no means proved,) still, their orders must now be

pronounced invalid _through the defect of matter, form, and due

intention_."

We presume the argument in this case will have little weight with

our objector or his friends; but we trust no one will say again that

Rome has never pronounced a judgment on the question of Anglican

orders. Still, after the letter we are reviewing, as well as many

things we have seen and heard in the ritualistic quarter, we can

never be taken by surprise again. Should they tell us that the pope

is excommunicated by his own decree, it will not ruffle our peace;

for in the Protestant religion each man is an infallible pontiff,

whose decisions go beyond the domain of faith, and rule in the field

of history and science. "If facts are not to our liking in the past,

let us rewrite them, and make a history to suit ourselves," is the

language of their acts.

We are not disposed to battle with the personalities of Mr. Ffoulkes.

Perhaps he has an improper standard by which to determine the degrees

of sanctity; and this is likely to be the case if the "English

parsonage with its surroundings" is the norm of perfection. Where

men are as mere men, we put one against another, and set forth the

hundreds of converts in our own day with their experience against

Mr. E. S. Ffoulkes and one or two others. Hundreds can testify that

they have seen more of real piety and true devotion in the Catholic

Church than they had ever dreamed possible before they knew the only

mother of saints. Words are of little value, and assertions can be

bandied about from one mouth to another. Deeds are the test--deeds of

self-denial, patience, and unselfish charity.

As for the sincerity of those who are seeking the truth, and are in

fervor at the first sight of the Catholic faith, we have only to say

that so long as they are obedient to the heavenly voice which calls

every honest heart to the one home of holiness, it is well with their

souls. When the crisis comes, and the hour when action must decide

the forward or backward march of the intellect, moved and enlightened

by grace, then is God chosen for ever, or renounced. Then grace may

linger around the heart which it loved, and only slowly withdraw,

leaving still the attractions of nature, and the good gifts which

are only for time, and bear no fruit in eternity. We would not dare

to judge where grace ends and nature begins, for both orders are

singularly blended in this scene of probation. But one thing we do

know--God is true, though every man be a liar. He cannot fail us;

his revelation cannot pass away into a fable. "The pillar and ground

of the truth" standeth firm. And notwithstanding Mr. Ffoulkes's

convictions, we are not afraid to trust our good works to the

judgment of mankind. Tares are mixed with the wheat; the net of Peter

incloses good and bad fishes, and scandals must be found even in the

house of God; but nevertheless, in quiet and unostentatious beauty

the true spouse of Christ is ever bringing forth fruits which, though

unappreciated on earth, shall bloom beyond the skies in the sunlight

of God's presence. Sacrifice is a law of Catholic piety which takes

its type from Calvary and its inspiration from the Sacred Heart.

We live in a different atmosphere from our Protestant brethren,

and self-denial is second nature to us; self-denial practised so

spontaneously that the effort and the trial are hidden in the

graciousness of the Christian life. No sect, and no individuals, with

some rare exceptions, have caught the spirit of our religion, which

makes heroic virtue easy, and hides real sanctity in many hearts that

beat only for God. If Mr. Ffoulkes did not find that perfect rest for

his intellect and his heart which he expected in the Catholic Church,

the reason of this is, that he never submitted himself unreservedly

to her supreme and infallible authority and guidance. Humility and

obedience are the touchstone of true Catholic virtue, and in both

these qualities his writings and conduct show him to be singularly

wanting. We wish for him a better mind, and the grace of a genuine

conversion, and we trust that he may yet repair the grievous wrong he

has done to religion by his unfilial and rebellious conduct toward

our holy mother the Catholic Church.

FOOTNOTES:

[147] This dilemma is nothing at all in Mr. Ffoulkes's eyes. He has

recently published a pamphlet in which he proposes to the Council of

the Vatican, as a conundrum, the question whether the whole western

church is under an anathema.--ED. CATHOLIC WORLD.

[148] The definition was drawn up by the prelates of the Greek

Synod, which sat separately until the act of union had been

consummated.--ED. CATHOLIC WORLD.

THE HISTORY OF THE IRISH LAND TENURE.

Those who are not well acquainted with the condition of things

in Ireland might easily suppose that the existence of the odious

Established Church was the main cause of the dissatisfaction of

the Irish people, and that they would, consequently, be satisfied

with its disestablishment. This, however, is an error. The main

grievance of the Irish people remains unredressed. There is still

in the relation of landlord and tenant in that country a very

prolific source of future difficulty. So far only as the payment

of tithes subtracted from the scant earnings of the peasantry,

the church establishment could be called an infringement on the

rights of property; but its existence was looked upon rather as an

encroachment upon abstract justice than as a source of material

oppression. The evils of the land tenure, however, which had their

origin many centuries ago, and which time has somewhat modified, but

not obliterated, are of a far more serious and practical nature. The

landlord, by every test which can be applied, has a legal right to

his estates; yet the situation weighs heavily upon the tenant, and

prostrates the country. Laws which should compel a proprietor to

dispose of his property would be regarded as tending to agrarianism,

and as an infringement upon private rights; but no country can

be prosperous, or its people happy, while the great body of the

population is dependent upon the power and caprice of a few landed

monopolists. As the record of the past in this connection is an

interesting one--a long story, dating still further back than the

reign of Henry II., and the latter part of the twelfth century--we

will review it briefly for the benefit of those who have never

studied carefully or have forgotten the great wrong which for

centuries has oppressed the Irish race.

In ancient times, in addition to the four grand divisions of

Leinster, Munster, Ulster, and Connaught, there was another, the

property of the paramount sovereign. As there does not appear to have

been any rule of precedence, however, among the four kings, except

that of their ability to repress their rivals by force of arms, the

territory must have been very frequently in debate. These several

kingdoms were subdivided into a large number of principalities,

each inhabited by a distinct sept, and governed by its own

chieftain, called a carfinny, or toparch. These petty chiefs were

in their own dominions independent; they created laws, administered

justice, made war or peace, and so long as they did not encroach

upon the privileges of their superior sovereign, were unmolested

and unquestioned. They were elective too; and in this respect the

primitive institutions of Ireland were founded upon that execrable

system which has distracted and destroyed every kingdom in which it

has been attempted. The choice of toparchs was limited, however, by

the laws of tanistry to noble families; and the tanist was always

selected upon the accession and during the lifetime of the ruling

toparch. Under such a system intrigue and conflict between the septs,

and between individuals of the same sept, must have been perpetual;

and it is easy to see that the conditions were prepared which would

make eventual subjugation by foreign arms an easy task.

But we now come to a still more obnoxious feature of the institutions

of Ireland under the Milesian rule; and it will be no relief to

the miseries entailed upon this unfortunate island, that the same

peculiarity, modified in other countries, existed very generally

during the feudal ages. The property in each district was regarded

as the common possession of the entire sept, but the distribution of

the shares was intrusted to the toparch. The people themselves had

absolutely no property in the soil; that right belonged exclusively

to the chief, and tenants were removed whenever it suited his

convenience or caprice. There were many causes that could lead to

change. The death of the old toparch and the accession of a new

one, the addition of new members to the sept, or the death of those

already in the occupancy of a piece of soil, were some of the many

causes that made the land tenure very precarious; and the custom

of inheritance by gavelkind, which differed from the system of

England and Wales, is thought to have perpetuated the evil. Females

were excluded, and no distinction was made between legitimate and

illegitimate children. The common people were divided into freemen

and betages. The former had the privilege of changing their sept;

but the latter were common property with the soil, and transferred

with it in every deed or sale. Under a liberal government, and by the

aid of a good administration, the people of Ireland might have been,

in the course of seven hundred years, completely extricated from

this situation; but, as we shall see in the sequel, it has been the

policy of the Norman nobility in that country, if not of the English

government itself, to maintain as far as possible the original

condition of things. Such were the institutions of Ireland at the

beginning of the ninth century, when the Danish monarch Turgesius

overran the entire island, and subjugated the inhabitants to his

authority. His dominion was of short duration, however; for at the

battle of Clontarf, fought on Good-Friday, A.D. 1014, the celebrated

Brien Boiroimhe gave him a permanent leave of absence from the five

provinces, and a limited monarchy in the seaports. But the factions

inherent in the Irish system of government at that time placed the

national independence at the mercy of a foreign aggressor, and the

ambition of the Norman element in England soon marked the island as a

prize worthy an adventure at arms.

The immediate cause of the invasion was the act of young Dermod

McMurchaid, King of Leinster, who ran off with the beautiful

Devorghal, wife of O'Rourke, and princess of Breffny. Having, by

reason of this outrage, been driven from his kingdom, he invited

Richard Strongbow, Earl of Pembroke, and Robert Fitzstephen, to his

assistance. Thus the dissensions among the Irish princes opened the

way for the adventure of the Norman noblemen. A few hundred Norman

cavaliers, followed by comparatively a handful of infantry, were

sufficient to secure a permanent footing, an event most singular

when we take into consideration the military record which those

people have made since that period. But the Irish have always shown

a capacity to fight better in any other cause than their own. True,

the Norman adventurers from England did not succeed immediately in

the subjugation of the entire island. Their dominion was limited to a

small area; but they found and used those elements of discord among

the native rulers which made their situation impregnable against

those who still cherished the idea of freedom and independence. The

Irish were worsted in every considerable conflict; not so much,

perhaps, through the superiority of their adversaries as by reason of

their own disunion.

The new rulers endeavored only to consolidate their power, and made

no effort for the reformation of existing institutions. If they found

a large proportion of the inhabitants in a condition akin to serfdom,

there was certainly no motive why they should desire to change

the situation. It only gave them more personal consideration and

power. Hence, we find that Strongbow and his associates had hardly

established themselves in their new dominions before they strove to

perpetuate the old customs of tenure and descent. The distinction

between the new settlers and the natives was carefully preserved;

and the benefit of English laws permitted only to Normans, to the

citizens of seaport towns,--who were still, it is to be presumed,

in great part Danes--and to a few who had received charters of

denization as a matter of personal favor. Five septs only, say the

historians, were received within the English pale, and the rest were

all accounted aliens or enemies, who, even down to the reign of

Elizabeth, had no rights which an Englishman was bound to respect.

The Great Charter, wrested from King John, and confirmed by Henry

III., did not benefit Ireland. English laws and jurisprudence were

extended over those portions of the island known as the English

pale, and during the reign of King John the lands subject to the

crown were divided into counties, sheriffs appointed, and supreme

courts of law established in Dublin. But these improvements were

made rather as a convenience for the English than for the protection

of the native inhabitants. During the reign of Edward I., we read

that Lord De Clare, connected by marriage with the Geraldines, then

the most powerful Norman house in Ireland, was granted extensive

domains in Thomond. No regard was paid to the rights of native

possessors in this transfer, and though a war, in which the new

proprietor was defeated by O'Brien, an Irish chieftain, was the

result, no considerable advantages seem to have been derived from the

conflict. At the close of the century, we are told that all hopes of

independence were resigned, and eight thousand marks offered to the

king for the rights of British subjects. No doubt the cupidity of

the monarch would have been gratified by so profitable a disposal of

privileges, but the favor was not granted by reason of the opposition

of the local aristocracy. At the first constitutional parliament,

summoned in 1295 by Sir John Wogan, several judicious acts are said

to have been passed; but we are unable to see in what manner they

operated in favor of the native inhabitants. After the war caused

by the invasion of Ireland by Edward Bruce, in the year 1315, the

exaction of "coyne and livery" by the impoverished barons first

appears, and the method of supporting an army by quartering it on the

people was instituted. During a period of active hostilities, and

upon the territory of an enemy, such an expedient may be pardonable;

but in a country regulated by what was nominally a domestic

government it would be hard to perpetrate an act of grosser tyranny.

To afford an idea of the situation of the native inhabitants at this

period, we will instance the statute of Kilkenny, passed in the

year 1367, by a parliament summoned by the Duke of Clarence. This

precious bit of legal wisdom provides that marriage, fosterage, or

gossipred with the Irish, or submission to the Irish law, should be

regarded as high treason, and punished accordingly. This fosterage

or gossipred, of which the English legislators were so fearful, was

the practice, traditional among the Irish, of allowing the children

of the nobility to be nursed by the wives of the peasantry; and the

custom was thought to encourage a sentiment of reciprocal kindness

between the lower and the higher orders of the population. The

statute also declared that if any man of English descent should adopt

an Irish name, be guilty of speaking the Irish language, or follow

any of the customs of the country, he should forfeit his estate, or

give security for better conduct. It made penal the act of presenting

an Irishman to any benefice, or his reception into any monastery.

It also forbade the entertainment of any native bard, minstrel, or

story-teller; _or the granting of permission for an Irish horse to

graze in the pasture of a loyal English subject_. To such a degree

had risen the follies of the dominant race in Ireland in the last

half of the fourteenth century.

During the reign of Henry VII. we begin to witness that struggle

between the Anglo-Irish nobility and the crown which, in the end,

without improving the condition of the masses, was the means of

breaking down many noble houses, and still further adding to the

distresses of the country. In the parliament of 1494, the act known

as Poyning's law was passed. Its enactment was secured by Sir Edward

Poyning, lord-deputy of the island, and its purpose was to prevent

the assembling of an Irish parliament without the consent of the

king. It is easy to see in such an act, however wise it might have

been considered, the dawn of fresh conflicts of authority.

During the life of Queen Mary, we have an instance of what fearful

infamy could be perpetrated under the system of the Irish land

tenure. The septs of O'More and O'Carroll, two chiefs who, under a

previous reign, had been arrested, thrown into prison, and left there

to perish, claimed that their lands could not be justly forfeited

through the offence of their toparchs; but that the ground was the

property of the clans, and inalienable save through their own acts.

An army was the only response to this reasonable claim, and the

inhabitants were forcibly ejected. But not this only. The butcheries

that signalized the act were such as to make the event infamous in

history; and, in the language of a native historian, "the fires

of the burning huts were slaked in the blood of the inhabitants."

O'Fally and Leix, the territory occupied by the unfortunate septs,

were converted into King's and Queen's counties, and the principal

towns were called Philipstown and Maryborough, in commemoration

of the queen and her husband. This transaction was one of the

first fruits of the coming supremacy of the crown over the local

aristocracy.

We now come to the reign of Elizabeth, a woman celebrated alike for

her capacity and her vices; and such was her force of character, and

the consummate ability of her rule, that she has impressed her policy

upon the history of Ireland more deeply than any other sovereign.

We have not the space to attempt to follow the incidents of this

turbulent period; but must be satisfied with a short statement of

the policy of Elizabeth as it seems to have been developed in her

measures. When the queen was cautioned against the turbulent and

designing character of O'Neill, an Irish chief, and Earl of Tyrone,

she is said to have replied that she did not care for his rebellion,

as it would give her possession of more lands with which to reward

her faithful servants. Historians have endeavored to explain away the

meaning of this expression, by attributing it to a desire to silence

the enemies of the Irish nobleman; but since, from the beginning to

the end of her reign, the history of Ireland proves that she acted as

though determined to better the instruction, we have to conclude that

in a spirit of levity she had inadvertently unmasked her deliberate

policy. From first to last it is only a story of rebellions provoked

for the purpose of destroying some Irish nobleman, that an English

sycophant might be put in possession of his estates.

The reign of James I., which began in 1603, is regarded by English

historians as favorable to Ireland; but how, it is difficult to

understand. In some respects the regulations of this king were

perhaps advantageous. The introduction of English law over the

entire island, the abolition of tanistry and gavelkind, and the more

general institution of courts of justice, had public sentiment been

healthy, might have eventuated in great advantages; but the spirit

of religious persecution, which was now becoming implacable, served

to keep alive the animosity of the races, and all improvement was

more theoretic than real. Previous to this time, patents for English

tenure had been granted only to great lords and chieftains; while

their vassals, still retaining their own laws and customs, owed no

direct allegiance to the crown. Under the new regulation, estates

were to descend by the course of common law, and the people were

placed within its operation; but they had really no more interest

in the soil than formerly. The king was merely substituted for the

toparchs, and while the chiefs were humiliated, their subjects were

not made more independent. The land held in demesne by the chieftain

was all that was left under his absolute control, but his tenants

were subject to an annual rent.

Another project, which originated in the fertile brain of Queen

Elizabeth, we believe, but which was not successfully executed until

the reign of James I., deserves especial notice. This was a plan for

driving out the native settlers, that their places might be filled

by adventurers from England. Six counties out of the thirty-two into

which Ireland was then divided were appropriated for carrying out

the experiment, and cut up into portions of one thousand, fifteen

hundred, and two thousand acres each. The largest of these estates

were for undertakers and servitors of the crown, consisting of great

officers of state, and rich adventurers from England; those of the

second-class were for servants of the crown in Ireland, and might be

peopled by either English or Irish tenants; and those of the third

were for natives of the province, when it suited the undertakers

to permit them to cultivate the soil. This scheme of cruelty was

followed by another, of a still more atrocious character--the search

after defective titles. In the long period of civil commotions which

preceded the reign of James I., it is to be presumed that many were

occupying lands for which they could not show a very clear claim. If

the crown could get possession of property through the simple loss

of the proof on the part of the occupant that he was entitled to his

inheritance, a source of great public profit would be opened out.

Eighty-two thousand five hundred acres were by this means apportioned

to English settlers, and the national exchequer was correspondingly

enriched. Yet in spite of such transactions as these, the reign of

King James has been pronounced a happy one for Ireland!

At the time of the accession of Charles I., Ireland was treated

simply as a conquered province, not as an integral portion of the

British empire, and its inhabitants still looked upon as aliens

and enemies. They had no rights which the officers sent by royal

authority, and controlled by cupidity, were obliged to respect, and

the very desire for the possession of a piece of land inherited by

a proprietor of native descent was sufficient reason for an act of

attainder for treason or a search after defective titles. To such an

extent was this latter species of iniquity carried that, during the

first years of the reign of Charles I., and under the administration

of Stafford as lord-deputy, more than a quarter of a million of

acres were wrested from the real proprietors, and transferred to the

hands of English adventurers. Even jurors who sat upon the causes in

dispute were imprisoned, and excessive fines imposed, if they refused

compliance with the wishes of the king's lieutenant.

Under these circumstances, it was only natural that the Irish should

look about for some means of redress. Property was becoming daily

less secure; for the successful practice of this species of plunder

was a continual encouragement to fresh outrage; and there was no

estimate of the degree to which the injury might be carried. But

the remedies proposed in the beginning were peaceful. The lords and

gentry met together and drew up a bill of rights, and offered to pay

a large sum of money for the royal assent. This measure, known as

the Charter of Graces, by one of its provisions proposed to limit

the title of the king in lands to sixty years. Changes also were

asked in the penal code, and a clause was inserted forbidding the

lord-deputy, during his term of office, from coming in possession of

land either by purchase or confiscation. The demands were in every

respect temperate, and nothing more was asked than a reasonable

security for private property, and such privileges as the dignity and

self-respect of the subject would require. The king, when the charter

was first presented for his signature, was inclined to look upon its

provisions with favor; but through the influence, it is said, of Lord

Strafford, he was induced to withhold his approval. But while this

subject was agitating with alternate hopes and fears the minds of

the Irish people, a new measure, or rather an extension of the old

system, was planned by the lord-deputy. The success of the English

colonization scheme, undertaken in Ulster during the reign of James

I., had opened the way for still another attempt at dispossessing the

native population of their lands; and Connaught was selected as the

next field for operations. This second experiment would probably have

proved as successful as the first, if the inevitable fruit of so much

tyranny had not come to its maturity.

The uprising of the Irish population in 1641 occurred under more

favorable auspices than any previous one, and had they made a united

effort for absolute independence, England could not have resisted

the forces which were brought into the field against her. But the

confederates, as the Irish party was called, were composed of

elements too much at variance among themselves to meet with permanent

success. The Anglo-Irish inhabitants, or those of English descent,

who were looking simply to the security of their property, and

exemption from the tyranny of local officers, had no bond of union

with the native Irish, who sought the complete recovery of their lost

liberties and the rehabilitation of their ancient institutions. Here

was a cause for faction which their enemies readily understood, and

by which they as readily profited. The Anglo-Irish were afraid of

the resumption of power by the descendants of the native chieftains,

and it was natural that they should seek to avoid such a result.

Nevertheless, led by officers whose exile from their country in

former years had been the means of raising them to eminence in the

armies of France, Spain, and Germany, the confederates were very

successful, and obtained possession of almost the entire island.

The peasantry came down from the mountains, whither they had been

driven years before to give place to the English colonists, and,

without bloodshed, again took peaceable possession of their lost

domains. Owen O'Niel, an officer who had done eminent service on

the continent, was the ruling spirit of the movement, and it was

through his management and address that the confederacy was enabled

to maintain such formidable proportions. But the various incidents of

that struggle, prolonged through several years, and ending finally

during the dictatorship of Cromwell, belong rather to history than to

such an article as this, and we must restrict our attention to the

results that followed upon the triumph of the English arms.

The troops that Cromwell had brought into Ireland were the most

puritanical of his entire army. He had probably at this period begun

to indulge in regal aspirations; and hence he desired the removal

from England of the more ultra republican and radical of his

followers. It is likewise probable that he selected this class of

men because their religious fanaticism would make them more zealous

in the cause. In the final settlement of the country, as Ulster and

Connaught were already the property of the colonists, and not subject

to confiscation, the two remaining provinces of Munster and Leinster

had to satisfy the claims of the army, and were accordingly portioned

out to the followers of Cromwell. The property of the lords and

gentry who had joined the confederation was ruthlessly confiscated.

The peasantry who had survived the long war were reduced to a

state akin to slavery, and many indeed, by order of Cromwell, were

sold in the Barbadoes, and in other dependencies of Great Britain.

About 200,000 people in all, it is estimated, left the island,

of whom 40,000 entered the various armies of continental Europe.

These comprised all classes; as to the peasantry who remained, some

estimate may be formed of their privileges when we state that they

were forbidden to leave their parishes, or to assemble together for

public worship, or for any other purpose whatever. The Cromwellian

soldiers of every grade, from privates to commanding officers, had

taken possession of the estates; and these were the new lords to whom

allegiance was due, and by whom it was most rigidly exacted.

But the commonwealth was already crumbling to pieces. The death of

Cromwell, and the dissatisfaction caused by a government which was

aristocratic and despotic without being regal, soon paved the way for

the accession of Charles II., and revived the hopes of those who had

been unjustly deprived of their estates at the close of the war. From

first to last the Anglo-Irish portion of the confederates claimed

that they had been contending for Charles I., and only against his

enemies and the parliament. Of the fact that they had desired simply

protection, and had been more loyal than disloyal to the throne,

there was abundant evidence; and it was to be presumed that the new

king would look with more favor upon their claims than upon those of

their opponents. To the end of recovering their property, therefore,

they began to petition the king in great numbers. That there might

be a semblance of justice, a court of claims was established for

the ostensible purpose of adjudication. But it was soon evident

that there was no intention of dispossessing the new proprietors;

and when it was found that, without the most gross and palpable

violations of right, it would be impossible frequently not to decide

in favor of the former occupants of the confiscated estates, the

court was adjourned, and was never allowed to hold another session.

Many thousands, by this act, were irretrievably ruined. The Duke

of Ormond, prominent throughout the rebellion, played an important

part, to the disadvantage of his countrymen, in these transactions,

and added enormously to his own estates. At the beginning of the

rebellion his property had been about nine tenths encumbered; but by

securing an act transferring all encumbrances to the king, and then

obtaining a release from his obligations in that quarter, he freed

himself from all his difficulties.

When James II. ascended the English throne, about two thirds of the

private property of Ireland appears to have been in dispute. The

dispossessed proprietors were still clamoring for their rights,

and the Cromwellian settlers and the colonists were as sturdily

adhering to their claims, and ready at any time to defend their

new possessions by either legitimate or illegitimate means. The

reign of James from the beginning was weak. The trifling rebellions

in Scotland and England which disturbed the first years of his

authority were easily quelled, it is true; but he seems to have

been intoxicated by his success, and led to the support of measures

which were not advised by either prudence or good judgment. The

spirit of religious intolerance was at this time most active and

implacable. It had been many years since the separation of the

English Church from the Catholic authority, and the time might

have been thought propitious for something like a recognition of

equality between religious bodies; but James endeavored to promote

the interest of Catholicity with a zeal that was not to be tolerated

by the Protestant bigotry of the day, and many of his acts gave

great offence. Of this character was the appointment of the Earl of

Tyrconnel, a Roman Catholic, first to the command of the Irish army,

and afterward to the government of Ireland itself. The Protestant

inhabitants of that country, who knew by what a doubtful claim they

held their estates, could not fail of taking the alarm and looking

forward to the day when there would be an attempt made to dispossess

them of the disputed property. The event proved, indeed, that their

fears were not groundless. The act of settlement, the measure upon

which the Protestant proprietors depended for the possession of

their lands, became immediately the subject in debate; and it was

soon evident that its repeal was intended. To comprehend fully the

magnitude of such an undertaking, it will be necessary to glance at

the situation of the island at this period, and see to what an extent

the inhabitants of the country had been plundered of their property.

The whole number of acres of land in Ireland was estimated at above

10,400,000, and of this amount 3,000,000 acres were unproductive.

This would leave about 7,000,000 acres of arable and pasture land,

and 5,000,000 of these, during the reign of Charles I., were still in

the hands of Catholic proprietors. Then followed the revolution with

the irruption of Cromwell's followers. The situation became greatly

changed. At the time of the passage of the act of settlement, only

about 800,000 acres remained in the hands of Catholic proprietors.

Of the remainder, 800,000 acres were under the control of the

government, but leased to Protestants, and 3,300,000 had gone to

reward the prowess of the Protector's soldiers. This property had now

been in the hands of its present occupants, or absentee landlords,

for nearly forty years. To repeal the act which settled all this

broad inheritance upon the adventurers was undoubtedly the intention

of James; and although this was not the only charge which the British

aristocracy and people made against their unpopular sovereign, it was

a powerful influence in the train of events that seated the Prince of

Orange on the English throne.

Exiled from London, the unfortunate James fled to Dublin. The Irish

parliament of 1689, which was summoned by his authority, besides

repudiating the jurisdiction of the English courts of law and of

the English parliament, and proclaiming the independence of the

Irish legislature, repealed the act of settlement; but, as the event

proved, these acts were the mere mockery of regal and legislative

enactments, and were not productive of even a temporary advantage to

his adherents. The Prince of Orange, now recognized as King William

of England, came in person to Ireland, and the two kings confronted

each other at the battle of the Boyne. History has told the story of

the discomfiture and inglorious flight of James, and of the prolonged

and desperate struggle which the Irish afterward maintained against

their adversaries; until finally the treaty of Limerick confirmed

and strengthened the English in their possessions. Some concessions

were made to the Irish, it is true, but they were of a character that

affected religion more than the tenure of property; and at the final

settlement, we are told, only 233,106 acres of land remained in the

hands of Catholic proprietors.

This was the last great event that influenced to a considerable

degree the tenure of property in Ireland. After a struggle of about

five hundred years, we find the island completely at the feet of

the conquerors, and the descendants of the native inhabitants with

no inheritance, or next to none, upon their own territory. We might

have heightened the picture by recounting the assassinations and

butcheries of the various wars, the outrages of military government,

and the refined cruelties of religious persecution; but these things

did not enter into the purpose of this article, and we have confined

ourselves to simple statements of facts in their relation to the

tenure of property. We have endeavored to trace the means by which

the great bulk of the real estate on the island has been transferred

from those whose descent entitled them to a proprietary interest in

the soil to a class of foreign and frequently absentee landlords,

who manifest no interest in the country or the people save by the

annual collection of their tenant dues. It cannot have failed to

impress the reader that the purpose of the English government,

from the beginning, has been to crush out and destroy as far as

practicable the native inhabitants, and to supply their place with

a foreign population. To this end only could have been designed

the various colonization schemes that distinguished the reigns of

James I. and Charles II.; the different edicts of expulsion, and the

readiness with which the English government has always advanced the

wishes of those who contemplated a voluntary expatriation from their

native country. But in despite of all this, the proportional native

population of the island has steadily increased, while in both Great

Britain and America the Irish people have become a formidable power.

Their complaints and demands for redress of grievances can no longer

be passed by in silent contempt. The land question must be settled

upon some basis that will not merely place the Irish peasantry upon

the footing of an independent tenantry, but will enable every laborer

to look forward to the eventual possession of a portion of the soil,

that thus a fitting stimulus and reward may be offered to thrift and

industry.

AT THE CHURCH DOOR.

A lovely afternoon in September was drawing to its close; the

shadows were long upon the pavement, and a gentle breeze brought the

fragrance of heliotrope and late roses over the wall from a garden

adjoining a handsome house in the old and well-known town of N----.

The hall-door opened and shut behind a young woman who walked rather

wearily down the steps and along the street. It was evident that she

was not thinking of the sun, nor the breeze, nor the sweet breath of

the flowers; she looked neither to the right nor to the left, and yet

her steps seemed listless and without an aim.

Her dress was plain, plain almost to poverty, and without the

slightest attempt at ornament, yet it would have been impossible to

pass her without notice. She was tall and graceful, and her features

were very handsome; but that was not what would have attracted your

attention; there was a something which told she was a lady--not

perhaps in the truest meaning of the word, as it may be applied to

a servant-girl or an apple-woman whose instincts are refined and

Christian; but you felt that she was well-born and well-bred, and

that her tastes were such as would not well accord with her coarse

dress and shabby bonnet. True, if you had been a close observer, you

might have seen that her boots were very pretty, her gloves of the

best kid, very fresh and unworn at the finger-tips, and it might have

surprised you to see that on her ungloved hand sparkled a splendid

ruby. But enough for exterior description; the face, though so fair,

was clouded and preoccupied, and as she walked she drew a letter

from her pocket and glanced at its contents.

"He appoints seven o'clock to meet me," she said to herself, "on the

stone seat outside the Catholic church. A strange place to choose! I

wish it had been somewhere else! Yet why should I care? What is that

church to me more than another? And soon I shall give my promise that

it shall be less than every other. It is a kind offer, a generous

offer; but I will not exchange you"--here she gave a contemptuous

twitch to her dress--"for a better till my wedding day. He and every

one shall see that I consider myself his equal, even in these shabby

clothes. O dear me! how tired I am! How that wretched child insisted

on playing discords with the pedal! I will not go home, it is so far;

but rest somewhere, and think how I can accept him most graciously.

I might as well sit on the stone seat here outside the church; the

shade of that tree looks inviting."

Agnes--for that was the name of the girl whose reverie we have put

into words for the benefit of our readers--had come to the pretty

church where Mr. Redfern had appointed to meet her. She sat down on

the bench outside, and we will take this opportunity to tell who she

was and why she waited there.

Agnes Deblois was the only child of Catholic parents; they were

wealthy, and as she was their idol, she was surrounded with friends,

comforts, and pleasures; with every thing, in short, that makes life

bright and beautiful. She had been carefully instructed and trained

in her religion by her excellent and fond mother; and it was a great

misfortune to her when this pious lady died, leaving her daughter,

at the age of seventeen, to the care of a father who was a negligent

and unpractical Catholic. Agnes was devoted to her father, and,

influenced by his example and by the ridicule of her worldly friends,

she allowed herself gradually to abandon her habits of piety and

the duties of her religion. After three years, during which Agnes

had been engrossed by the engagements and excitements of life "in

society," her father also died; when it was discovered not only that

he had lived beyond his means, but that he was even largely in debt.

By selling house, silver, and estate, Agnes was enabled to satisfy

all the creditors, and, finding herself almost without a dollar, she

looked around for her friends, whose protestations of devotion she

recalled, and to whose sympathy she naturally turned. But she was

shocked at the change she found even in those of whose fidelity she

had felt sure.

She was offered assistance, it was true, and even a home, yet with

a coldness and constraint which showed she was considered in the

light of a burden. From being almost crushed by the grief of her

bereavement, her spirit rose as the bitterness of her situation

became apparent, and she very soon resolved to be indebted to no one

either for home or for bread. Her education had been thorough and

superior; for music she had a rare talent, and she found it easy

to obtain as many pupils as her strength would allow her to attend

to. She threw herself into her new duties with an ardor which arose

from wounded pride, but which was destined to grow cool as the

irksomeness of the daily routine and unloveliness of the continual

presence of poverty wore upon her. It was hateful to her to be poor;

to wear clothes which, however neat and even pretty she might make

them, must still be plain and cheap. So she gave up all attempt at

ornament, and took a bitter pleasure in wearing what was coarsest

and most unattractive for her dress, though allowing herself, as she

was able, what was best in such small articles as gloves, and still

wearing the handsome jewels she had preserved from her former life.

For this she was greatly blamed, and even reproved by those who

called themselves her friends, and who were scandalized at the bad

taste of wearing dresses which a beggar might despise with ornaments

which, it must be confessed, were handsomer than their own; but Agnes

paid no attention, and went on her own difficult and joyless path.

Formerly she had neglected her religion from carelessness and human

respect; now she kept away from church because she was always tired

and always sad, and because she no longer cared for the faith of her

mother and of her own happy childhood. But now a wonderful thing

had happened to her. She had come to this beautiful and fashionable

place in the summer because her pupils were there, and because, as

she took pleasure in saying, she wanted their money, and at the house

of the richest and proudest of them all she had seen Mr. Redfern, a

man of immense wealth, who had noticed her, found opportunities of

paying her attentions, and now had asked her to marry him. She had

his letter in her pocket, and she took it out once more as she sat

outside the church, and read a passage from it:

"The only thing I ask of you is this: that you will give up, now

and for ever, all interest in the Romish Church."

"A needless request," she said, and laughed as she said it, while

her heart gave a leap as she thought of herself at the head of Mr.

Redfern's handsome house, sitting in state behind his high-stepping

grays, or receiving the keys from the hands of the obsequious

housekeeper.

A very old woman passed her and entered the church, bowing herself

low as she crossed the sacred threshold. Agnes watched her.

"I wonder if it is a pretty church inside? I think I have heard that

it is pretty."

Feeling impatient at the slowly passing time, she rose and walked

through the door, and up the middle aisle. There were no doors to the

pews, and seeing one that was cushioned, she entered it, sat down,

and leaning back, looked carelessly round her.

It was indeed a pretty church; the softened sunbeams streamed through

the stained glass of the Gothic windows, and fell in purple and gold

lights on the stone floor, flickering as the old elms outside moved

gently to and fro in the west wind. She saw the old woman she had

before noticed, kneeling before a picture, then leaving it with many

bows and courtesies, and going to another. What was she about? Oh!

she was saying the stations. Agnes remembered the stations--those

fourteen grievous steps in the Passion of our Lord from his trial in

Pilate's house to his burial in the sepulchre, at the close of his

three hours' agony on the cross.

"Poor old thing! how her back must ache. Why does she do it? Why, she

is crying, wiping her eyes with her apron, and lifting her hands to

heaven! Is that for her own sorrows, or those of her Saviour?"

Agnes was interested; she sat up and looked about her.

"There are two little children coming up the aisle. Do see them bob

up and down and cross themselves! Oh! now they are saying their

prayers."

Why should Agnes see them indistinctly? Why impatiently brush

something from her eyes? Ah! the picture of her childish days rose

before her, and she was for a moment once more a little child....

What nonsense! She had other things to think of now. She would have a

purple satin dress just the color of that pretty light on the floor.

It was fading away; it must be near sunset. At that moment came from

a choir of sweet young voices:

"Kyrie eleison! Christe eleison!"

She turned and saw the children practising for their Sunday-school

Mass, led by an excellent tenor; and leaning her head on her hand,

she listened; for so she thought the angelic choirs must sound.

"Kyrie eleison! Christe eleison!"

She knew what those words meant. Had she not often sung them herself

in days long past? Those dear old days!

Disturbed by a slight noise, Agnes glanced around; she saw an old and

venerable-looking man with gray hair, whose long black dress fell

to his feet, come up the side aisle and enter a confessional, round

which silently gathered a few women, kneeling till their turns should

come. A vague fear took possession of her heart, and she quickly rose

to leave the church; but something stopped her, and she stood as if

riveted to the earth.

What was it? Only a light, a feeble flame, which shone in a vase

hanging before the high altar. She had not noticed it before, the sun

had been so bright; but it was there all the time, and would be there

when she had turned her back upon it. Whose presence did the light

reveal? Who was it that waited day and night upon that holy altar?

Alone, unknown, forgotten--yes, and betrayed.

She uttered no sound; but her heart gave a great cry as she fell upon

her knees.

"Kyrie eleison! Christe eleison!" Those innocent voices still

prolonged the hymn, though what was their need of mercy compared with

hers? But the thought came to her that perhaps those invocations of

God's mercy by the little lambs of his fold would ascend in his sight

not for them, but for her, for the strayed sheep; and thinking thus,

she felt herself comforted. Kneeling motionless with her head bowed

on her hands, she did not pray, nor weep, but only _saw_.

She saw herself a little child robed in white, one of a band of

many little ones, with her shining veil, a true marriage garment,

receiving at the altar for the first time her God and Saviour.

She saw herself again, still a child, but older, kneeling again to

receive the bishop's hand on her forehead, and hearing the sacred

words, _Signo te signo crucis_. _Confirmo te chrismate salutis._[149]

She saw her mother lying pale and faint, but with eyes full of light

and peace, and heard those dying words, "My only child, remember that

he who is ashamed of the Son of Man here, of him will He be ashamed

before His Father in heaven. Remember that, and remember your best

Friend." Who was that Friend?

She saw herself not once, but many, many times, blushing at the name

of her faith, hearing it despised and turned into ridicule; at last

denying it and becoming a scoffer herself. Whom had she denied and

despised?

She thought of the friends who had deserted her, and the answer came,

"Because I have deserted my best Friend."

She remembered her weary labors and thankless efforts, and a voice

replied, "But my yoke is sweet, and my burden light."

She said to herself, "But there is one who has offered me enough to

pay for all I have lost;" and once more the Holy Ghost spoke to her

heart, "Come unto me, you that labor and are burdened, and I will

refresh you."

That was meant for her; that was what she wanted for her weary,

troubled soul. "For the life is more than the meat, and the body more

than the raiment."

The voices of the children were silent as she once more rose and

looked about her. There was no one kneeling at the altar now; shadows

had fallen deeply upon the pavement; she was alone in the church. No!

for yonder at the window stood the priest, holding his breviary up

high to catch the fading light. What was he waiting for? Who was it

that waited long, long hours in that holy tribunal of penance for the

straying, lost sheep to come back to the fold? Her every question was

answered, and, urged by an impulse she could not resist, she rose and

hurried to the confessional, thinking as she cast an imploring glance

toward the priest, "Will he see me? Will he come and save me?"

She knelt trembling, scarcely daring to breathe, till she heard his

step approaching, and in a moment the long unheard, yet strangely

familiar words, "_Dominus sit in corde tuo et in labiis tuis, ut rite

confitearis omnia peccata tua_."[150]

"Well, my child?"

Well may we let the curtain drop, not to penetrate that sacred

confidence. O poor soul! thou art safe. There are hymns of joy and

thanksgiving ascending to the eternal Father; for we know "there is

joy before the angels of God upon one sinner doing penance."

FOOTNOTES:

[149] "I sign thee with the sign of the cross. I confirm thee with

the chrism of salvation."

[150] "May the Lord be in thy heart and on thy lips, that thou mayst

truly and humbly confess thy sins."

* * * * *

Half an hour later, as the clock struck seven, Mr. Redfern stood at

the church door, and asked an old woman whom, with beads in hand, he

met hobbling out, if she had seen a young lady waiting there.

"No," she answered readily; "but there was a beautiful lady inside,

on her knees before the holy Mother of God. Bless her sweet face!"

With a terrible fear in his heart, he entered the church, and stood

beside a form bowed before the altar dedicated to the Immaculate

Mother. He touched her arm, and Agnes raised her face, suffused with

happy tears, yet smiling. She looked at him bewildered--for she had

forgotten all about him--as he said, in a whisper,

"Have you lost your senses? Come with me. I want to speak to you."

She rose obediently and followed him to the door. The tall tree-tops

waved in the breeze, and the young moon stood in the sky. She was

still silent, motionless, and he said in a hoarse voice, that

trembled in spite of his efforts to control it, "Are you coming with

me?"

"No," she answered, "I must go back; I cannot leave It yet."

"What do you mean? I came for an answer to my letter. Have you read

it?"

She made a strong effort, and replied, "Yes, I read it; but I have

found peace and my faith again, and I forgot that you were coming. O

Mr. Redfern! for years I have been ashamed of the Son of God; but I

did not remember, till to-day, that he would be ashamed of me before

his Father. How could I bear that? But now he has forgiven me, and

made me happy, oh! so happy. I must go back to him." And she looked

at the door.

Mr. Redfern stood speechless for a moment. "I could not have a papist

wife," he said slowly. "So this is my answer, is it?"

But Agnes had already turned away, and in a moment more was kneeling

again beneath that faithful light, forgetting all but her love and

gratitude; and as the lamps were lighted in the choir, the children's

glad and rapturous voices chanted,

"_Gloria in excelsis Deo, et in terra pax hominibus bonæ

voluntatis._"

THE CHAPEL.

On the outskirts of the city, where the poor and outcast dwell,

Is a humble little chapel, in its tower a sweet-voiced bell;

And beside its simple altar, with a smile serene and mild,

Stands a rudely-sculptured image of the Virgin and her Child.

In the early, dewy mornings, when the grass-grown walks are bright,

When beyond the chimneys glimmer the far mountain-tops with light,

Here a crowd of poor and lowly to the dust their heads incline,

As the chalice of salvation is uplifted o'er the shrine.

Yonder, in the great cathedral, oriel tints the banners stain,

On the purple and the mitre slanting down the pictured pane;

And the statues high in niches, and the chanting of the choir,

All art's mighty inspirations to the tired heart say, "Aspire!"

Here heaven's pure white light streams inward; here through open

windows sweet

Blow the fresh airs on the wild flowers at the Virgin Mother's feet,

And sweet, silvery, girlish voices sweetly chant a simple strain,

Such as shepherds might have chanted on the old Chaldean plain.

Often when my heart grows restless, burdened with earth's cares,

and sore,

Come I to this humble chapel, kneel down on the wooden floor;

Those poor ragged outcasts round me, praying side by side with them,

Wondrously I seem drawn nearer to the crib of Bethlehem.

These pale faces, seamed and weary, seeking solace here, and peace,

Speak more eloquent a language than the olden seers of Greece;

More than Plato taught when round him stood the Athenians rapt and

dumb;

More of wisdom than e'er echoed through the groves of Tusculum.

The poor lives and poor endeavors of these toilers of the sod

Teach life's grand and noble lessons--patience, faith, and trust in

God;

And the weight of earth falls from me, for I hear a soft voice thrill,

And my heart lies down in quiet as it whispers, "Peace, be still!"

CONSTANTINA E. BROOKS.

THE IMMUTABILITY OF THE SPECIES.[151]

III.

No alleged factor of evolution is so capable of arresting the

attention of a physiologist as correlation of growth. To this law we

have before often incidentally alluded. But as we conceive that it

furnishes strong confirmation of our views, it behooves us to extend

to it a somewhat more lengthy treatment.

The current impression is, that every authenticated instance of

variation is so much added to the probabilities of the evolution

of the species; and that the refutation of Darwinism is rendered

difficult just in proportion to the number of proofs of variability.

It is natural, then, that Darwin should accord prominence to those

factors which play a part in inducing modification. Conspicuous among

these factors is correlation, the nearest approximation to a law of

all the colligations of facts involved in Darwinism.

Correlation is a bond, _nexus_, or connection subsisting between

different growths. Owing to it, a modification seldom arises in any

portion of the organism without involving a corresponding change

in another part. It is often not a little difficult to determine

which part first varies and induces the modification of the other.

Frequently, characters simultaneously vary, and are apparently

affected by some distinct cause. Correlation is an important subject

for Darwin; for, owing to its operation, varieties seldom differ

from each other by a single character alone. He declares that "all

the parts of the organism are, to a certain extent, connected

or correlated together," and that "of all the laws governing

variability, that of correlation is the most important." Parts,

however, differ greatly with respect to the strength of their

connection. In some parts, the tie is ever manifesting itself; in

others, it is seldom traceable. Each character, when developed, tends

to stimulate the development of others. But, owing to adversity of

conditions, or to being systematically suppressed by man, these

correlated growths lose all ability to respond to this stimulus, and,

in consequence, fail to develop.

We intended to adduce quite a number of facts from Darwin, in order

to enable our readers clearly to understand the precise nature of

correlation. But want of space forces us to change our mind. We do

this with less reluctance, when we consider that those for whom

this article is more especially written have already familiarized

themselves with those facts.

All the phenomena of correlation show increase of growth

corresponding to increase, and decrease corresponding to decrease.

Now, the antithesis to correlation is compensation or balancement

of growth. This alleged law, as applied to species under nature,

was propounded by Goethe and Geoffroy St. Hilaire. It implies that

the development of any one part is attended with the reduction or

starvation of some other part. Not a little diversity of opinion

exists respecting the validity of this law. Darwin inclines to

believe that compensation occasionally occurs, but conceives that its

importance has been overestimated.

We, however, are of opinion that there is really no such law. That

correlation obtains, there is not the slightest doubt. The instances

of correlation are innumerable; and every one of them is a disproof

of the doctrine of compensation of growth. For the law of correlation

is totally incompatible with the law of economy of growth. The

latter, according to the hypothesis, makes decrease correspond to

increase, and increase to decrease. The former entails the reverse.

Both laws, then, cannot stand. One must, of necessity, fall. One must

negative the other. Unquestionably, the stronger law is correlation.

This law none can invalidate. It follows thence that there is no such

law as that of compensation of growth.

The reader is now naturally desirous to know how we explain away the

alleged cases of economy of growth. The explanation is, that they

are merely manifestations of correlation. The reduction of the given

parts is consequent, not, as alleged, upon the building up of some

other parts, but upon the suppression or reduction of correlated

parts. Strong confirmation of this view is given by the fact that

seeming compensation of growth is more observable under nature

than under domestication. As development under nature is slow and

occasional, we would expect to find, upon the theory of Goethe and

St. Hilaire, very few instances of apparent balancement of growth. On

the contrary, the instances are most numerous; which fact is strictly

in accordance with our hypothesis. For where we find the conditions

entailing the reduction of many parts, there must we also find the

reduction of other parts, induced by correlation. These parts, then,

being in close proximity with characters which neither the conditions

nor correlation have affected, their suppression is naturally

referred to compensation of growth. Under domestication, however,

development is carried on rapidly and to a great extent. A very large

number of characters is selected and developed. Here, then, we should

look for the most striking manifestations of compensation of growth.

But it is a fact, of which the significance is at once apparent,

that, instead of meeting with the fulfilment of our expectations,

the converse thrusts itself most obtrusively upon our attention.

Nature here is most prodigal; giving growth for growth, and meeting

the development of one feature with the corresponding development

of another. The cases illustrating apparent balancement of growth

are here exceptional. They bear a very insignificant proportion to

those under nature. Hence we conclude that the law of compensation of

growth never obtains, that its apparent manifestations are really due

to the operation of the law of correlation.

But there are two classes of cases of which correlation is not an

interpretation. The first is the instances in which the tie of

correlation is in a measure broken by man's selection of one part,

and by his systematic suppression of another. Darwin refers to these

when he declares it "scarcely possible in most cases to distinguish

between the supposed effects of such compensation of growth, and the

effects of long-continued selection, which may at the same time lead

to the augmentation of one part and the diminution of another."

The following is an example of the second class of cases: The Polish

fowl is distinguished by the possession of a crest of feathers on the

head. In consequence of its development, there arises a protuberance

on the skull. This is due to correlation. But in the cock, the skull

is so perforated with small holes that at any point a pin may be

sunk to the brain. This is adduced as an instance of compensation of

growth. But a rational explanation may readily be assigned. Darwin

has shown that the crest of feathers is abnormal in the male, that it

normally belongs to the female. The feature has been gained by the

male by the somewhat mysterious law of the transmission of secondary

sexual characters. The economy of growth may then be considered as

abnormal, and may reasonably be attributed to the character not

completely harmonizing with its fellows.

The facts of correlation meet with an exhaustive treatment at the

hands of Darwin. Herbert Spencer, however, almost totally ignores

them. Although they are seemingly most striking exemplifications

of evolution, he passes with only an occasional incidental notice.

What we conceive to be Mr. Spencer's reason for thus ignoring them,

we will venture to give further on. But, while Darwin extends to

the facts of correlation a full recognition, he is by no means

over-desirous to ascertain their cause. Correlation is another of

those laws which it pleases Darwin to consider as ultimate.

Now, the supposition that the correlated part has arisen by

evolution, involves the absurd conclusion that a centre of growth

normally preëxists without a relative arrangement of parts. And on

the evolution hypothesis, we are forced to believe that an evolved

part is correlated to another part not yet in existence; that all

the parts of the organism anticipate, as it were, the birth of the

new feature, and so adjust themselves as to become immediately

susceptible to its influence; and that, while the previous

coördination of parts is destroyed, owing to the influence of the

new-born feature ramifying throughout the whole organization, the

organism is capable of immediately effecting a re-coördination. To

assume for any organism such powers as these, is virtual hylozoism.

The only escape for him who admits the evolution of variations,

is to adopt the explanation furnished by the Duke of Argyll--that

correlations are the _direct_ manifestations of design.

This interpretation of the teleologist precludes all further

argument. We, of course, concur in design. But we do not deem

ourselves therefore bound to take for granted the validity of every

argument adduced in proof thereof. We conceive that design can be

proved by incontrovertible evidence, and that it can be shown to

manifest itself in conformity to laws not merely empirical.

As for the ultra-evolutionist, if he were to cease regarding

correlation as an ultimate fact, and if he were to employ himself in

placing an interpretation upon it, he would perceive that the tie

of correlation is strongly suggestive of reversion, and that its

phenomena completely negative the hypothesis of evolution.

On the hypothesis of reversion, correlation is perfectly explicable.

The supposition of reversion necessarily involves the conclusion

that all the features of the species coexisted in each individual,

saving, of course, the characters peculiar to the opposite sex. The

perfect organism, then, is a balance of all the parts. The parts

are correlated to each other with respect to centres, and these

centres are correlated to each other with respect to the axis or

the aggregate. All the parts are mutually dependent. When a part

is reduced, it tends to involve the reduction of its corresponding

part. The centre of the parts is then weakened, and this weakening

entails the weakening of the other centres, to which this center

is correlated. The loss or suppression of even one part, then,

manifestly disturbs the physiological balance--destroys the

coördination of the parts. Under nature, many parts have been lost

or reduced, and these have entailed the loss or reduction of others.

When, under domestication, characters develop, owing to selection

and favorable conditions, they concur with the different centres

of growth to effect a return to the balance, and, in consequence,

the correlated parts arise and assume their primordial relations

to their correlatives and to the aggregate. When all the parts are

developed, by correlation and otherwise, there result an equilibrium

and a consequent perfect coördination. Correlation is the inseparable

concomitant of coördination. Each implies the other. And this is

the reason, we apprehend, why correlation is barely noticed by

Mr. Spencer. He feared, we surmise, that a lengthy philosophical

treatment of the subject would suggest the conception that correlated

growth necessarily implied previously imperfect coördination.

In order to facilitate the reader's conception of our meaning, it may

be well to adduce an analogy. Analogies between organic and inorganic

nature, the advocates of evolution ever delight in. And as that of

the crystal has found especial favor in their sight, we will venture

to use it. As we conceive that there are laws governing the organism,

which are _sui generis_, we would request our readers to regard the

analogy only as an illustration of our views, and not in the light of

an argument.

In crystallization, the initial force involved in the deposition of

the first molecule determines the form and shape of the crystal.

This molecule is correlated, as it were, to the aggregate to be

formed. It controls the whole formative process, with a view to the

shape eventually to be attained. Otherwise, how are we to account

for the due tempering and modification of the forces implied in

the deposition of each of the atoms of the accretion? From the

first, there must of necessity be but one normal process. But this

correlation between the first molecule and the aggregate is not the

correlation which we wish particularly to illustrate. The crystal

having been fully formed, a couple of edges are truncated. The

crystal is then placed in a solution similar to that in which it

was formed. Now, the absence of these edges implies an abnormal

distribution of the forces. This is manifest; for correlation,

directly with the corresponding edges and indirectly with the

aggregate, leads to the reproduction of the lost parts--a fact

manifestly implying previously imperfect coördination, and a present

equilibrium of all the parts, or due coördination. The parts

reproduced assume their previous relations, and effect a return to

the balance impaired by their truncation. It is hence clear that

correlation implies coördination, and that coördination implies

correlation. Correlation, then, is a necessary corollary from the

hypothesis of due coördination, or proportionate development. It will

be seen that, while it receives a clear, consistent, and rational

interpretation upon the theory of reversion, it carries with it

implications at variance with the hypothesis of evolution.

As our knowledge of crystallography is that of an amateur, these

views respecting crystallization may be open to modification; though

we are assured that they are not so in essentials.

The analogy of the crystal most happily illustrates our views of

correlation. With equal felicity it illustrates the opposing views of

the evolutionist and the reversionist, respecting the main points in

the controversy.

Suppose three crystals, similar in shape, to have been formed in a

solution. The truncation of six of the edges of each has, in some

manner or other, been effected. With these edges thus reduced,

the crystals are found by a person anxious to prove the theory of

evolution. He places them in solutions similar to those in which

they were formed. The development of the lost edges then ensues.

But, instead of allowing them all to develop, only a single edge in

each crystal is suffered to reproduce itself; and this edge is in

each crystal a different one. This is done in order to render the

crystals as unlike as possible. Practically, however, this would

be not a little difficult to effect. Our friend, imbued with the

inquiring spirit of the age, now seeks to ascertain the cause of

the growth of the edges. In his observation of the phenomena of

crystallization, he has noticed that the growth of an edge is often

due to reproduction. But this fact he now finds it convenient to

forget. He at last affects to believe himself forced to conclude

that the growth of the edges is an ultimate fact; and, at the same

time, refers the phenomenon to evolution, an explanation which has

the strong recommendation of being a mere re-statement of the

phenomenon to be explained. He next observes that, in each crystal, a

new angle develops in correspondence with the angle first developed.

This gives him two characters peculiar to each crystal. Recognizing

a new factor in the induced development of the last angle, he

propounds the law of correlation, and affirms that it concurs with

and subserves evolution. The three crystals, originally alike, are

now widely distinct. These varieties of crystals, exclaims our friend

with the proud and patronizing smile of conscious superiority,

present differences almost equally great with those displayed by

species. Given, then, an indefinite number of hours and the requisite

conditions, and all the species of crystals can be shown to evolve

one from another. You cannot assume a limit to the development of

parts, otherwise than gratuitously. There cannot possibly be any such

thing as the immutability of the species; for individuals vary, and

the species is composed of those individuals. This argument of our

friend cannot be invalidated, if we concede that the growth of the

edges forming the peculiarities of the varieties is new growth, is

evolution, and that it is not reproduction. But it is obvious that

it is reproduction, or reversion back to the state which existed

previous to the truncation of the edges. It is equally obvious that

correlation, or the growth of the last edge in correspondence with

that of the former, is merely a return to more perfect coördination.

It is also manifest to every physicist, that the absence from each

crystal of the four edges which constitute the peculiar characters

of the other varieties implies an imperfect coördination of the

remaining parts. In other words, their absence involves a departure

from a state of chemical integrity. For there can be a normal

distribution of the forces of a crystal only when all the angles

and parts are present, and proportionately developed. The views of

the evolutionist are therefore wholly erroneous. For the principles

of physics preclude the possibility of the normal existence of more

than one variety. The existence of a plurality of varieties of a

species implies disproportionate development of some of the parts.

With crystals, however, varieties may normally exist when their

differences are merely those of size. But the only way in which the

relations of the parts can normally be changed is by a totally new

distribution of the forces; which would involve complete dissolution,

a modification of the force originally implied in the deposition of

the first molecule, and reintegration. Now, just as, in a crystal,

the loss of any part involves a departure from a state of chemical

integrity, so, in an organism, the reduction, suppression, or

disproportionate development of any part involves a departure from a

state of physiological integrity. In the perfect type alone are the

relations of the different parts perfect. The only way in which these

relations could be normally changed, is by complete dissolution and

new creation.

Not a little prejudice exists against a perfect type. This prejudice

is, in a measure, justifiable, owing to the vague and gratuitous

manner in which the perfect type has been assumed. But it cannot

reasonably be extended to the perfect type which we here assume.

This, of ours, is an individual in which all the characters of the

species are fully and proportionately developed. It is no Platonic

idea; we assume it to prove it; and it is no more metaphysical than

the assumption for a crystal of a specific shape, which, owing to

perturbations of the forces of the solution, it has been incapable

of attaining.

In "A Theory of Population," propounded in _The Westminster

Review_ for April, 1852, Mr. Herbert Spencer defines life as "the

coördination of actions." This definition is, equally with his

others, exceedingly felicitous in every respect but one. It is not

a definition of life, as it purports to be, but merely a definition

of the conditions of life. In a note on page 74 of his _Principles

of Biology_, wherein he repels the imputation of being a disciple

of Comte, he declares that the conditions _constitute_ existence.

Recognizing the fact that the _onus probandi_ rests upon him, he

presents phenomena in an aspect which at first gives not a little

plausibility to his view. But these phenomena derive all their

significance from the circumstance that Mr. Spencer's readers

concur in the conception of the evolution of variations. When this

conception is demurred to, his arguments lose all their force. The

theory of reversion negatives the validity of his premises; and the

hypothesis of the conditions constituting existence is then sustained

by no proof greater than that of gratuitous assertion.

But, whatever may be the diversity of opinion respecting the truth

of Mr. Spencer's definition of life, there is none, at least between

him and us, on the subject that "the coördination of actions" is a

definition of the conditions of life. On this point both he and we

are fully agreed. His belief that the definition is more than that

which we concede, is a matter immaterial in connection with the

argument immediately to be adduced. We wish now to observe which

theory consists more with the definition, the theory of evolution or

that of reversion.

The coördination of actions is the attribute which characterizes all

organisms. All the parts of each organism must work in concert.

"If one of them does too much or too little--that is, if the

coördination be imperfect--the life is disturbed; and if one of them

ceases to act--that is, if the coördination be destroyed--the life

is destroyed." These remarks of Mr. Spencer more particularly refer

to the _vegetative system_; but, as he shows, they are, with little

modification, applicable to the _animal system_. He says:

"How completely the several attributes of animal life come within

the definition, we shall see on going through them _seriatim_.

"Thus, _strength_ results from the coördination of actions; for

it is produced by the simultaneous contraction of many muscles,

and many fibres of each muscle; and the strength is great in

proportion to the number of these acting together; that is, in

proportion to the coördination. _Swiftness_, also, depending

partly on strength, but requiring, also, the rapid alternation

of movements, equally comes under the expression; seeing that,

other things equal, the more quickly sequent actions can be made

to follow each other, the more completely are they coördinated.

So, too, is it with _agility_; the power of a chamois to spring

from crag to crag implies accurate coördination in the movements

of different muscles, and a due subordination of them to the

perceptions."

On page 61 of his _Principles of Biology_, he further assures

us "that arrest of coördination is death, and that imperfect

coördination is disease."

A superficial view of Mr. Spencer's definition would involve the

inference that, upon the evolution hypothesis, only one of two

things is possible. Either there is an ever-continuing imperfect

coördination, or there is an always perfect coördination. As parts

subserve actions, the perfect coördination of the latter must be

dependent upon the perfect coördination of the former. Now, evolution

implies a constant change. In fact, according to the hypothesis,

constant change is the only normal state. The variation of parts,

then, would entail their imperfect coördination, and, consequently,

the imperfect coördination of their actions; for the only conceivable

way in which the imperfect coördination of actions is possible, is by

a change in the parts subserving those actions. As variations, then,

are ever occurring, imperfect coördination must always exist.

The following is the alternative view. The evolutionist might assume

an ability in each organism to effect, on the occurrence of each

variation, a re-coördination. This view manifestly admits only of

perfect coördination. But the advocate of evolution may avoid these

absurd conclusions by affirming, as he has tacitly done, that, while

the organism is capable of coördinating any number of characters,

imperfect coördination may ensue by a too sudden change in any

part or parts. This is the issue which we desired to produce, the

decision of which will, we conceive, legitimately preclude further

argument. The question is, Is the organism capable of coördinating

any number of characters? or, are all the characters of the species

alone susceptible of coördination? The reader will perceive that the

latter is a mere recurrence of our proposition that the proportionate

development of all the parts is necessary to perfection, and that the

absence of any part is deleterious to the organism. If we prove this,

we shall have completely disproved the evolution hypothesis.

There is a fact adduced by Darwin which places the validity of our

theory beyond all doubt, and which is, at the same time, grossly

at variance with the conception of evolution. The fact to which we

allude is, that good results from crossing. Observing this result,

Darwin propounds a general law of nature, that all organic beings

are benefited by an occasional cross. This law he employs as a

somewhat important factor of evolution, and essays to harmonize it

with his theory. In this attempt he succeeds. But mere congruity with

a law is no proof of the validity of a theory, where that law is

only an empirical one. Of this every person conversant with science

is aware. It is equally well known, however, that when a theory is

shown to accord with a law; to furnish an explanation of it; and to

resolve it into a higher law, thus changing it from an empirical

into a derivative law; proof conclusive and incontrovertible has

been adduced. If the reader has not already mentally anticipated our

argument, it remains for us to prove that the theory of reversion

fulfils these requirements.

Our theory manifestly implies that the more proportionate the

development, the greater is the approach to perfection. It also

implies that the more characters of the species there are in each

variety, the nearer is the approximation to perfect coördination. It

is apparent at a glance, then, that crossing furnishes a crucial test

of the truth of our views. For most varieties are distinguished from

each other by the possession of positive features. The presence of

the peculiar character of one variety, of course, implies its absence

in the others. Each variety possesses a character or characters which

the others lack, and lacks what the others peculiarly possess. When,

then, two such varieties cross, good must of necessity accrue to

their offspring. For, in the formation of the latter, each variety

supplies a deficiency of the other. Could a reason be more obvious?

or could proof of a view be more conclusive? So conclusive is it, we

conceive, that were any other result consequent on crossing, such a

circumstance would be at variance with our theory.

Of the fact that good results from crossing, not a doubt can

reasonably be entertained. Darwin, so far from questioning the

fact, is its most strenuous advocate. But upon his conception,

it is crossing _per se_ which produces the favorable effects. In

other words, this is another of Darwin's ultimate laws. Being

purely empirical, the general law of nature which he assumes, fails

utterly to explain the cause of the variations in the quantity of

the effects. The crossing of pigeons, for instance, is attended

by the greatest gain in constitutional vigor, while comparatively

little good results from the crossing of the varieties of the horse,

sheep, or cow. On our doctrine, the explanation is clear. The many

widely distinct varieties of the pigeon necessarily imply great

disproportionate development of each. They are, then, extremely

susceptible of improvement. The races of the horse, sheep, and cow,

on the other hand, approximate, as we have seen, to proportionate

development. There is, therefore, much less room for improvement.

Strikingly in harmony with this interpretation is the fact that, with

pigeons, the more highly bred the crossed varieties are, the greater

is the gain from a cross. Equally congruous is the fact that the more

highly bred the breeds of the horse, cow, and sheep are, the less

is the gain. The reason is, careful and select breeding produces

increased divergence of character with pigeons; but with horses,

sheep, and cattle it induces increased convergence. The former become

widely distinct, while the latter converge in character. All the

characters are developed in each variety of the latter; but in the

former different characters are developed in different varieties.

While, then, coördination in the horse, sheep, and cow advances

toward perfection, coördination in the pigeon is rendered more

imperfect by careful breeding. Each variety of the pigeon possesses

a character which, when joined with those of another variety, will

entail a great advance toward due coördination. This concurrence

is effected by crossing, and the result is, as one would be led to

expect upon our doctrine, great beneficial effects. With the horse,

sheep, and cow the effects of a cross between varieties are less

marked, owing to less imperfect previous coördination.

In noting the advantage accruing to crossed offspring, we have

particularly referred to gain in constitutional vigor. We have

occasion now to speak of gain in fertility. Seeing that hybrids--the

product of a cross between species--are invariably sterile, it is

clear that, if the conception that varieties are incipient species

is a valid one, we are bound to expect that the more marked,

distinct, and widely divergent varieties are, the greater will

be their sterility. The mere circumstance that such an effect

is not observable, goes far to invalidate the conception. What,

then, must the inference be when an effect diametrically opposite

to that necessitated by the conception is shown to result--when

increased fertility is seen to follow crossing, and when this

increased fertility is observed to be directly proportionate to

divergence of character? Such results would, we apprehend, negative

completely the hypothesis of evolution, and would conclusively

confirm our view, that the beneficial effects are owing to the

disproportionate development which a multiplicity of widely distinct

varieties necessarily implies. These results we have, and they are

indisputable. For the fact that crossing induces increased fertility,

and that this increased fertility is directly proportionate to

divergence of character, is so well known that it is scarcely

necessary to adduce proofs from Darwin in support of it. But that

the least shadow of a doubt may not remain, we will quote a few of

Darwin's remarks on the subject.

Constant reference to crossing may be found in any portion of his

late work. But a somewhat lengthy chapter is devoted exclusively to

this subject and to close interbreeding. In the conclusion of this

chapter (p. 142, vol. ii.) he says:

"In the early part of this chapter it was shown that the crossing

of distinct forms, whether closely or distantly allied, gives

increased size and constitutional vigor, and, except in the case

of crossed species, increased fertility to the offspring. The

evidence rests on the universal testimony of breeders.... Although

animals of pure blood will obviously be deteriorated by crossing,

as far as their characteristic qualities are concerned, there

seems to be no exception to the rule that advantages of the kind

just mentioned are thus gained even when there has not been any

previous close interbreeding. The rule applies to all animals,

_even to cattle and sheep_, which can long resist breeding

in-and-in between the nearest blood relations. It applies to

individuals of the same sub-variety, but of distinct families, to

varieties or races, to sub-species, as well as to quite distinct

species.

"In this latter case, however, while size, vigor, precocity,

and hardiness are, with rare exceptions, gained, fertility,

in a greater or less degree, is lost; but the gain cannot be

exclusively attributed to the principle of compensation; for there

is no close parallelism between the increased size and vigor of

the offspring and their sterility. Moreover, it has been clearly

proved that mongrels which are perfectly fertile gain these same

advantages, as well as sterile hybrids."

On page 174, he reiterates these statements, which place the subject

of increased fertility beyond all doubt.

Now, it is clear that Darwin's being necessitated particularly to

note that the rule that advantage results from crossing obtains even

in the cases of cattle and sheep, implies that comparatively little

good accrues to the offspring from the crossing of the breeds of

either of those animals. This shows, as the varieties of the sheep

and cow are convergent in character, that the less divergent the

varieties the less is the good attendant on crossing. The converse,

that the more divergent the varieties the greater the good, is

plainly seen in the case of the pigeon, of which the varieties

are manifestly and confessedly the most divergent. The following

assertions are unequivocal proof of our view:

"All the domestic races pair readily together, and, what is

equally important, their mongrel offspring are perfectly fertile.

To ascertain this fact, I made many experiments, which are given

in the note below; and recently Mr. Tegetmeier has made similar

experiments with the same result. The accurate Neumeister asserts

that when dovecots are crossed with pigeons of any other breed the

mongrels are extremely fertile and hardy. MM. Boitard and Corbie

affirm, after their great experience, _that with crossed pigeons,

the more distinct the breeds, the more productive are their

mongrel offspring_." (Page 236, vol i., American edition.)

Mere mention of crossing in connection with our theory would, we

conceive, suffice. But if any doubts have been entertained of

the conclusiveness of the proofs furnished by the law, or of the

competency of the theory of reversion to account for the good

resulting from crossing, they are now surely dissipated by the

evidence adduced from Darwin. The law of crossing which we propound

is no ultimate law. It fulfils every requirement of a derivative law.

The good which flows from crossing varies in degree in different

animals, as is well known. This is quite explicable upon our theory;

and the amount of good accruing to the offspring from the union of

two given varieties, is even susceptible of prevision. Crossing _per

se_ does not produce the increased good; it is attributable to the

lack of full and proportionate development. Of course, for increased

good to result, each of the crossed animals must contribute to the

formation of the offspring a part or parts which the other lacks.

We have, then, given what Darwin's law, being purely empirical, is

utterly incompetent to do--a rational and consistent interpretation

of the variations in the quantity of the effects. Logic requires no

greater proofs of a theory than those which we have here adduced.

Darwin has informed us, in his late invaluable work, that crossing

induces the appearance of new characters. Great stress is laid upon

this fact by several writers, and some of them, among whom Pallas

is conspicuous, have even gone so far as to ascribe variability

exclusively to crossing. The theory of reversion furnishes a rational

explanation of the appearance of these characters. We do not allude

merely to the fact that their reversion is more probable than

their evolution; for Darwin inclines to this opinion rather than

to the contrary one. On page 264, vol. ii., after demurring to the

conception that variability is solely induced by crossing, he says:

"Nevertheless, it is probable that the crossing of two forms, when

one or both have long been domesticated or cultivated, adds to the

variability of the offspring, independently of the commingling of

the characters derived from the two parent forms; and this implies

that new characters actually arise. But we must not forget the

facts advanced in the thirteenth chapter, which clearly prove that

the act of crossing often leads to the reappearance or reversion

of long-lost characters; and in most cases, it would be impossible

to distinguish between the reappearance of ancient characters and

the first appearance of new characters. Practically, whether new

or old, they would be new to the breed in which they reappeared."

But there is another factor subserving evolution, to which we

particularly allude. This is correlation, which we have seen reason

to conclude exists, not only between different growths, but also

between different centres of growth. Now, when a cross ensues,

the offspring generally acquires from each parent a character or

characters which the other lacks. The union of these characters

strengthens the centres to which they are joined, and also all the

centres of which the related parts are developed. By correlation, the

centre to which these centres are most closely allied becomes more

firmly established. The more firm establishment of this centre, then,

induces the development of its formerly connected parts. These parts

are the characters consequent upon crossing.

If, as we maintain, the proofs furnished by crossing are conclusive,

then the phenomena of close interbreeding must be proofs amounting

to demonstration. For the law of close interbreeding, which is the

converse of that of crossing, also holds good; is, if possible, more

in accordance with the theory of reversion; is also susceptible

of resolution into the law of proportionate development; and,

being a derivative law upon our theory, fully accounts for all the

variations in the quantity of the effects. The different data,

moreover, esteemed so mutually inconsistent, of those who concur in

and of those who demur to Darwin's law of close interbreeding, can

be shown, by the light furnished by the hypothesis of proportionate

development, to be perfectly congruous. If we can prove, then, that

our law of close interbreeding, founded upon the facts furnished by

Darwin, is capable of all this, we shall have fulfilled our promise

to place our theory beyond the reach of cavil.

As has been more than once asserted, our views necessitate the

conclusion that a multiplicity of divergent varieties implies the

loss in each of what constitute the peculiar characteristics of the

others. The circumstance that some few varieties are distinguished

by the possession of negative features, but slightly modifies this

conclusion. Now, it is clear to the comprehension of every one who is

likely to have followed us this far, that, as the loss of any part

or character is deleterious, the pairing of the members of a variety

would tend to aggravate the evil consequent on the absence of the

peculiar characters of the other varieties.

Quite in harmony with this view is the following assertion, one of

a vast number of a similar kind made by Darwin: "The consequences

of close interbreeding, carried on for too long a time, are, as

is generally believed, loss of size, constitutional vigor, and

fertility, sometimes accompanied by a tendency to malformation."

(Page 115, vol. ii.)

Now, according to our theory, the evil effects of close interbreeding

must be proportionate to the divergence of character; or, rather,

to the disproportionate development which divergence involves.

Darwin admits that different species of animals are differently

affected by the same degree of interbreeding. Among species of which

the varieties are divergent, the pigeon and fowl are preëminently

conspicuous. Here, then, we must look for the greatest evil effects

from the interbreeding of the members of the varieties. The facts

fail not to realize our anticipations. No writers have expressed

so strong a conviction of the impossibility of long-continued

interbreeding as Sir J. Sebright and Andrew Knight, who have paid the

most attention to the breeding of the fowl and pigeon. Darwin gives

us, as the result of his wide experience and extensive research, the

following opinion:

"Evidence of the evil effects of close interbreeding can most

readily be acquired in the case of animals, such as fowls,

pigeons, etc., which propagate quickly, and, from being kept in

the same place, are exposed to the same conditions. Now, I have

inquired of very many breeders of these birds, and I have hitherto

not met with a single man who was not thoroughly convinced that an

occasional cross with another strain of the same sub-variety was

absolutely necessary. Most breeders of highly improved or fancy

birds value their own strain, and are most unwilling, at the risk,

in their opinion, of deterioration, to make a cross. The purchase

of a first-rate bird of another strain is expensive, and exchanges

are troublesome; yet all breeders, as far as I can hear, excepting

those who keep large stocks at different places for the sake of

crossing, are driven after a time to take this step." (P. 117,

vol. ii.)

And again, on page 125, he says: "With pigeons, breeders are

unanimous, as previously stated, that it is absolutely indispensable,

notwithstanding the trouble and expense thus caused, occasionally to

cross their much-prized birds with individuals of another strain, but

belonging, of course, to the same variety." He then dwells at some

length upon the great delicacy of constitution entailed by the close

interbreeding of nearly-related pigeons, and mentions a circumstance

for which the reason is at once obvious upon our theory. He says,

"It deserves notice that, when large size is one of the desired

characters, as with pouters, the evil effects of close interbreeding

are much sooner perceived than when small birds, such as short-faced

tumblers, are desired."

"In the case of the _fowl_," says Darwin, "a whole array of

authorities could be given against too close interbreeding." (P. 124,

vol. ii.) Following this assertion is mention of the great sterility

of bantams, induced by close interbreeding. He assures us that he has

seen silver bantams almost as barren as hybrids. The Sebright bantam

is destitute of hackles and sickle tail-feathers. This involves

disproportionate development; and that the evil is attributable to

this, Darwin virtually admits when he says, on page 101, that the

loss of fertility is to be ascribed "either to long-continued, close

interbreeding, or to an innate tendency to sterility correlated with

the absence of hackles and sickle tail-feathers."

Of all the phenomena attendant upon close interbreeding, we know of

none which so strikingly confirms our view as the following curious

case. It is a most delicate exemplification of our doctrine. "Mr.

Hewitt says that with these bantams the sterility of the male stands,

with rare exceptions, in the closest relation with their loss of

certain secondary male characters;" he adds, "I have noticed, as

a general rule, that even the slightest deviation from feminine

character in the tail of the male Sebright--say the elongation _by

only half an inch_ of the two principal tail-feathers--brings with

it improved probability of increased fertility." (Pp. 124.) The

full significance of this singular fact the reader will at once

appreciate. For the cause of the phenomenon is obvious. The increased

probability of fertility, consequent on the growth of the secondary

sexual characters, is owing to the induced return to proportionate

development.

Darwin says, "There is reason to believe, and this was the opinion

of that most experienced observer, Sir J. Sebright, that the evil

effects of close interbreeding may be checked by the related

individuals being separated during a few generations and exposed to

different conditions of life." (Pp. 115.) Now, different conditions

are, as we have seen, favorable to the development of different

parts. Exposure, then, to conditions other than those to which their

brothers are subjected, would lead to the growth or strengthening

of certain parts in the separated animals. Interbreeding between

members of the two lots of animals would, in consequence, be

equivalent to crossing. The check to the evil effects is to be

attributed to a slight dissimilarity of structure.

These quotations from Darwin place beyond doubt the fact that the

greatest evil effects flow from the close interbreeding of fowls

and pigeons. It now remains for us to show that, in animals which

are comparatively proportionately developed, the evil effects are

very small. It must be observed that it does not rest with us to

show a total absence of evil. For no animals are, in all respects,

proportionately developed. Our very ability to discriminate between

different breeds necessarily implies the disproportionate development

of all but one of them; that is, when their differences are not

merely those of size. With cows, want of proportion is often caused

by blind conformity in certain breeds to certain standards. Thus,

when a breed acquires a reputation, all its points are faithfully

preserved, as if the preservation intact of the existing condition of

all the features was a _sine qua non_ of the animal's good quality;

and this occurs even when some of the features are shockingly out

of proportion, or greatly reduced. If one breed were fully and

proportionately developed, the others could be distinguished from it

only by negative features.

Of the close interbreeding of the cow Darwin says:

"With _cattle_ there can be no doubt that extremely close

interbreeding may be long carried on, advantageously with

respect to external characters and with no manifestly apparent

evil as far as constitution is concerned. The same remark is

applicable to sheep. Whether these animals have been rendered

less susceptible than others to this evil, in order to permit

them to live in herds--a habit which leads the old and vigorous

males to expel all intruders, and in consequence often to pair

with their own daughters--I will not pretend to decide. The case

of Bakewell's longhorns, which were closely interbred for a long

period, has often been quoted; yet Youatt says the breed 'had

acquired a delicacy of constitution inconsistent with common

management,' and 'the propagation of the species was not always

certain.' But the shorthorns offer the most striking case of

close interbreeding; for instance, the famous bull Favorite (who

was himself the offspring of a half-brother and sister from

Foljambe) was matched with his own daughter, granddaughter, and

great-granddaughter; so that the produce of this last union, or

the great-great-granddaughter, had fifteen sixteenths, or 93.75

per cent, of the blood of Favorite in her reins. This cow was

matched with the bull Wellington, having 62.5 per cent of Favorite

blood in his veins, and produced Clarissa; Clarissa was matched

with the bull Lancaster, having 68.75 of the same blood, and she

yielded valuable offspring. Nevertheless, Collings, who reared

these animals, and was a strong advocate for close interbreeding,

once crossed his stock with a Galloway, and the cows from this

cross realized the highest prices. Bates's herd was esteemed the

most celebrated in the world. For thirteen years he bred most

closely in-and-in; but during the next seventeen years, though

he had the most exalted notion of the value of his own stock, he

thrice infused fresh blood into his herd; it is said that he did

this, not to improve the form of his animals, but on account of

their lessened fertility. Mr. Bates's own view, as given by a

celebrated breeder, was, that 'to breed in-and-in from a bad stock

was ruin and devastation; yet that the practice may be safely

allowed within certain limits when the parents so related are

descended from first-rate animals.' We thus see that there has

been extremely close interbreeding with shorthorns; but Nathusius,

after the most careful study of their pedigrees, says that he

can find no instance of a breeder who has strictly followed this

practice during his whole life. From this study and his own

experience, he concludes that close interbreeding is necessary to

ennoble the stock; but that in effecting this the greatest care is

necessary on account of the tendency to infertility and weakness.

It may be added that another high authority asserts that many more

calves are born cripples from shorthorns than from any other and

less closely interbred races of cattle." (Pp. 117, 118, vol. ii.)

This last phenomenon is doubtless due to correlation between the legs

and the small development of the horns.

Now, these remarks of Mr. Darwin unequivocally show that extremely

long-continued close interbreeding is possible with cattle. They also

acquaint us with the fact that, although this may long be carried on,

evil at length begins to manifest itself. This is easily explained. A

small want of proportion in the animals interbred entails evil, but

evil too small in amount to be capable of manifesting itself at once.

But continued exacerbations, consequent on frequent pairing with

related individuals possessing an evil identical in kind, so augments

the evil as eventually to involve its display.

If further proof of the possibility of the long-continued

interbreeding of cattle is needed, it may be found on page 44 of _The

Westminster Review_ for July, 1863. This review is the stronghold of

Darwinism. The writer of the article to which we refer says, that

"Dr. Child gives the pedigree of the celebrated bull Comet and of

some other animals, bred with a degree of closeness such as no one

who has not studied the subject would believe possible. In one of

these cases, the same animal appears as the sire in _four_ successive

generations." So striking is the pedigree of Comet, that the writer

cannot refrain from inserting it.

The sheep is another animal in which there is an approximation to

proportionate development. Let us see, then, if our doctrine equally

obtains in this case. Before going further, we may request the reader

to call to mind Darwin's assurance that his remark, "that extremely

close interbreeding may be long carried on with cattle," is equally

applicable to sheep.

On page 119, vol. ii., he remarks that,

"With _sheep_ there has often been long-continued close

interbreeding within the limits of the same flock; but whether

the nearest relations have been matched so frequently as in the

case of shorthorn cattle, I do not know. The Messrs. Brown, during

fifty years, have never infused fresh blood into their excellent

flock of Leicesters. Since 1810, Mr. Barford has acted on the same

principle with the Foscote flock. He asserts that half a century

of experience has convinced him that when two nearly-related

individuals are quite sound in constitution, in-and-in breeding

does not induce degeneracy; but he adds that he 'does not pride

himself on breeding from the nearest affinities.' In France, the

Naz flock has been bred for sixty years without the introduction

of a single strange ram."

In connection with this subject _The Westminster Review_ says that,

"M. Beaudouin, in a memoir to be found in the _Comptes Rendus_

of August 5th, 1862, gives some very interesting particulars

of a flock of merino sheep bred in-and-in, for a period of two

and twenty years, without a single cross, and with perfectly

successful results, there being no sign of decreased fertility,

and the breed having in other respects improved."

Of all animals, the horse is manifestly the most proportionately

developed. In him all the parts maintain, to a great extent, the

due proportions. Our doctrine, then, leads us to expect that, in

this case, little evil results from close interbreeding. We would be

greatly surprised that the horse was not the most striking instance

of the possibility of long-continued in-and-in breeding, were we not

conscious of the fact that a great portion of the evil eventually

resulting from close interbreeding is attributable to augmentation

of the diseases to which the horse is singularly susceptible. The

following is the only evidence we shall adduce in the case of the

horse; but it "is clear and decisive":

"Mr. J. H. Walsh, well known, under the _nom de plume_ of

Stonehenge, as an authority upon sporting matters, says

distinctly, in his recent work, that nearly all our thorough-bred

horses are bred in-and-in." (_Vide West. Rev._ for July, 1863, p.

44.)

"Writers upon sporting matters are pretty generally agreed that no

horse either bears fatigue so well or recovers from its effects

so soon as the thorough-bred, and it is a subject upon which such

writers are the best of all authorities. Thus, 'Nimrod' concludes

a comparison between the thorough-bred and the half-bred hunter in

the following words: 'As for his powers of endurance under equal

sufferings, they doubtless would exceed those of the 'cock-tail,'

and being by his nature what is termed a better doer in the

stable, he is sooner at his work again than the others. _Indeed,

there is scarcely a limit to the work of full-bred hunters_ of

good form and constitution and temper; and yet these, as we have

seen, are almost all close bred." (_Ibid._ p. 45.)

The mention of "good form" is a fact of significance; for the

current conception of symmetry is, in the case of the horse, a safer

criterion of proportionate development than in the case of any other

animal.

In all the discussions on close interbreeding, no case meets with

such frequent mention as that of the pig. Those who endeavor to

gainsay the conclusion that evil is attendant on in-and-in breeding,

signally fail to invalidate the fact that pigs die out altogether

after being bred in-and-in for several generations. Those persons are

the exceptions, however, who consider the fact as questionable. On

page 121, vol. ii., Darwin says, "With _pigs_ there is more unanimity

among breeders on the evil effects of close interbreeding than,

perhaps, with any other large animal." He then gives quite a number

of facts, which we will not quote, as they are indisputable.

Close interbreeding being attended, in pigs, by evil effects is,

at first sight, at variance with our doctrine. For, not only does

utility guide the selection of pigs, but they are, as Darwin has

informed us, the most striking instance of convergence of character.

We have seen the greatest evil effects of in-and-in breeding in

those species in which selection is guided by fancy, and of which

the varieties were the most divergent in character. A superficial

consideration, then, would lead one to expect that, where the

converse obtained--where utility was the motive in selection, and

where the varieties were convergent in character--interbreeding would

entail little or no evil effects. But the incongruity between the

facts and the doctrine is only apparent, not real. There is presence

of evil effects, because, in this case, the motive of utility and

convergence of character also involve disproportionate development.

Disproportionate development is the only never-failing criterion.

In our last article we showed that, while divergence of character

is solely caused by disproportionate development, convergence of

character may be induced by either proportionate or disproportionate

development. We further showed that the pig's convergence of

character is caused by disproportionate development, and that the pig

has many characters either wholly or partially suppressed. Its coat

of bristles is greatly diminished, and its tusks are wholly reduced.

Owing to a misguided policy, its legs are of the smallest possible

size, and, by correlation, the front of the head is remarkably short

and concave. Being, then, thus disproportionately developed, the

pig, of all large animals, must be, upon our doctrine, the most

susceptible of evil from close interbreeding. Allow the legs to be

of proportionate size, and a marked decrease in the evil entailed by

interbreeding will be observable. So impressed are we with the idea

of the truth of our doctrine, that we will stake its validity upon

the result, confident that, in doing so, we venture nothing.

That the cause assigned for the lessened fertility and delicacy of

constitution of pigs is a true one, is placed beyond all doubt by the

fact that, with those members of the species of which but little care

is taken, there is comparatively very little evil entailed by close

interbreeding. The reason lies in the circumstance that, in these

animals, the legs are far more proportionately developed than in

well-bred pigs; and that there is absent the shortness and concavity

of the front of the head. The more well-bred the animals, the greater

are the injurious effects of in-and-in breeding. This fact needs not

proof; it is too well known. Care in breeding pigs almost invariably

induces the small development of the legs and of the front of the

head. A case somewhat analogous is presented by the fowl and pigeon.

With them, the more careful the selection, the greater are the evil

effects of interbreeding. With cattle, sheep, and horses, however,

good breeding is a condition _sine qua non_ of their exemption from

the evil generally consequent on close interbreeding. Why care

should be attended by different results in different species, is at

first not clear. But this is the explanation. In fowls and pigeons,

care in the formation of varieties induces greater disproportionate

development by augmenting the divergence of character. In cattle,

sheep, and horses, on the contrary, care, by inducing greater

convergence, causes increased proportionate development. This

convergence, be it remembered, is attributable to a cause other than

that which creates the convergence of character of the breeds of

well-bred pigs.

We incline to believe that the extremely small amount of evil

attendant on reduced size never manifests itself by close

interbreeding. That some evil, though inappreciably small, does

result from reduced size, may reasonably be inferred from the

fact that, where animals disproportionately developed are crossed,

increase in size follows, and that, where those animals are closely

interbred, decrease in size results.

We are assured that there are cases in which crossing, instead of

resulting in good, induces evil effects. Darwin says he has not met

with any well-established case, with animals, in which this occurs.

Now, our theory contemplates such evil effects under the following

circumstances. The varieties crossed must each be distinguished

from other varieties by a negative feature. In addition to this,

they must lack features in common. The evil resulting would then be

attributable to the same cause which induces the evil consequent on

close interbreeding.

It is now clear that these phenomena of crossing and close

interbreeding tell a tale the direct converse and refutation of that

which Darwin would have us believe. They are manifestly, grossly,

absolutely, and irreconcilably at variance with the doctrine of

evolution. They show conclusively that no divergence of character is

normally possible; that all the characters of the species are alone

susceptible of perfect coördination; that the exclusive possession

of any positive character by any variety is to the detriment of the

other varieties; that the possession of any negative feature is

deleterious to the organism; and that there can normally exist but

one variety--the perfect type, that variety in which all the positive

features are fully and proportionately developed. These conclusions

cannot be gainsaid; for they irresistibly force themselves upon one

by observation of the phenomena of crossing and close interbreeding,

furnished by Darwin.