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thus accidentally placed together unlike something towards restoring the ancient in mind and in fortune, yet so like in some standard which journalists tell us is so much points of fact-cast a certain light upon altered in these days; or may at least show each other, standing up each under "the that the possibility of work for women is little span of sky and little lot of stars" not a thing of to-day, but had been found, that belongs to her by nature; women false and well done, with little fuss but tolerable to no instinct of womankind, as modest, as success, before any of the present agitators gentle, as little obtrusive as the humblest of that much-discussed subject were born housewife. Let us hope that their portraits to throw light upon an ignorant world. thus simultaneously reproduced may do

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Fulfilment to the prayer was given -
In quiet death they lay,

And celebrated in high heaven
Their fiftieth wedding-day.

Tinsley's Magazine.

himself understood. "You may laugh," said the late Judge Theophilus Parsons, "at his law, and ridicule his language, but Dudley is, after all, the best Judge I ever knew in New Hampshire." A specimen of his style has been preserved in the following conclusion of one of his charges to the jury, grammatical peculiariities excepted:

"You have heard, gentlemen of the jury, what has been said in this case by the lawyers, the rascals; but no, I will not abuse them. It is their business to make a good case for their clients; they are paid for it; and they have done in this case well enough. But you and I, gentlemen of the jury, have something else to consider. They talk of law. Why, gentlemen, it is not law we want, but justice. They would govern us by the common law of England. Trust me, gentlemen, common sense is a much better guide for us - - the common sense of Raymond, Epping, Exeter and the other towns which have sent us here to try this case between two of our neighbors. A clear head and an honest heart are worth more than all the lawyers.

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"There was one good thing said at the bar. It was from Shakspeare, an English player, I believe. No matter it is good enough almost to be in the Bible. It is this: Be just and fear not.' That, gentlemen, is the law in this case, and law enough in any case. Be just and fear A NEW HAMPSHIRE JUDGE OF THE OLDEN not. It is our business to do justice between TIME.- John Dudley of Raymond. N. H., who the parties, not by any quirks of the law out was a Judge in that State from 1785 to 1809, of Coke or Blackstone, books that I never was a remarkable man. Having no legal ed-read, and never will; but by common sense ucation whatever, and but little learning of any kind, yet he possessed a discriminating mind, a retentive memory, a patience which no labor could tire, and integrity proof alike against threats and flattery. He was, says the Exeter News Letter, a resolute, strong-minded man, much already, about matters which have nothintent on doing substantial justice in every ing to do with the merits of the case. case, though often indifferent to the forms and an honest verdict, of which, as plain, common requirements of law. He was withal, very heed-sense men, you need not be ashamed." less of grammar, but never failed to make

That is our business, and the curse of God is and common honesty as between man and man. upon us if we neglect, or evade, or turn aside from it.

"And now, Mr. Sheriff, take out the jury; and you, Mr. Foreman, do not keep us waiting with idle talk, of which there has been too

Give us

Boston Journal.

From The Contemporary Review.


of the historical imagination, that delights
to place itself in other conditions, and to
speak with other tongues. Even in the po-
ems cast in a quasi-dramatic mould, — " The
it is, for the most part, Clough who, in va-
Mystery of the Fall" and


THE greater part of the contents of the first of these volumes was already known to a limited circle of readers through a collection of "Letters and Remains of Arthurrying moods, utters himself by turns through the mouths of each of the interlocutors. is not merely form and colour, but material and substance, that are supplied from within. Hence the study of his poems is the study of Clough himself. And this characteristic of his poetry gives to it, without question, in these days of much introspection and psychological analyzings, one of its most powerful attractions.

An attempt to understand any man is an attempt to reduce to a single harmonious whole the multiform phases of his character. And in this attempt, when the lie of the main central lines of force has been once clearly perceived, it is generally not difficult to group around them, in their just proportions, the many minor details which examination presents to our notice. The relations and subordinations of parts are quickly learned when we have gained the key-note which rules the whole. All modulations, all chromatic varieties, are given place and assume meaning when our ears are filled with the fundamental tones of the central scale, in which God has written the great symphony of any noble human life. In the case of Clough this task is not an easy one. The difficulty lies in finding the great dominant principle. Modern literature presents to us no other life which exhibits in a manner so striking an elemental war almost unceasingly carried on. Impulse and prudence struggle for ever; reason contends against passion, passion against reason; the flesh striveth against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh. Each faculty is suspicious of its fellows; the instincts of the heart doubt the intellect; the intellect doubts the instincts. "Instinct turns instinct out, and thought wheels round on thought." The emotions, however simple and spontaneous, are perleave the chemist, of the soul, at the close petually subjected to painful analyses, which of his experimentation, still doubtful of his

Hugh Clough," printed, but not published, in 1865. There is no one, who has had the opportunity of becoming acquainted with that interesting volume, that will not be pleased to learn that it is now given to the public, together with some additional letters, and several short works in prose, consisting of lectures, essays and reviews. In the second volume we have the poems already known, and, together with some smaller and less important pieces, now published for the first time in its completeness, what we cannot but regard as the most remarkable of all the writings of Clough. the unfinished poem entitled "Dipsychus." The whole range of our literature shows no poet whose writings so fully and faithfully represent the man as those of Clough. We know none who so freely and entirely gives us himself. There is not one of his poems in which we do not find the personal outcome of his nature. His songs he sings out of his own heart. To give expression to his own thoughts and feelings was the motive of his music. No doubt his deep and genuine feeling for all that was human, and his marvellous power of analysis, could not fail to make him capable of entering into the characters of others. The portraits of the Trevellyns (though sketchy, and meant to be no more), of Hobbes, of Elspie, of "the grave man nicknamed Adam," are all true and forcible; while, of the voyagers in Mari Magno, the lawyer, and "the rural dean," are as perfect in their way as any of the Canterbury pilgrims. Yet in none is there that complete reticence of self which is demanded by the best descriptive, as well as the best dramatic, poetry. In every character there is something of Clough himself. We find among his verses few or no dramatic lyrics," little of the working *The Poems and Prose Remains of Arthur Hugh Clough, with a Selection from his Letters and a Memoir. Edited by his Wife. 2 vols. London: As illustrative of the above statements, in Macmillan & Co. 1869 questions of religion, which much occupied Clough, we find that his mind included within it two types, to be found at the opposite - the emotional and the poles of characterintellectual - - the believing and the critical - the trustful, that finds a warrant in itself, and the disposition that will try all things. He understood, but struggled against, the temper of mind that could express itself in


The poems Jacob," "The Song of Lamech," and especially the very beautiful verses, "Jacob's Wives," come nearest to making exceptions to what is here stated; but though exhibiting sufficiently clearly with what power Clough might have wrought the vein of the dramatic lyric," had he directed his attention to it, yet these poems are free from any aim at studied literary antiquarianism (such as Mr. Browning and his imitators have made us so familiar with), and do not hesitate to suggest

thoughts and feelings modern in their character and partaking of the flavour of the poet's mind

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During his early college days Clough was brought much into contact with Mr. Ward, whose name is so closely associated with the Tractarian movement, and who afterwards, like Dr. Newman, seceded to the ranks of the Church of Rome. Mr. Ward writes of Clough:

S. T. Coleridge's phrase, "Evidences of | Clough's was not a mind to allow itself to Christianity! I am weary of the word. drift long down any current without quesMake a man feel the want of it . . . and tioning whence and whither it was flowing. you may safely trust it to its own evidence." At no time, indeed, so far as we can find But Clough thought it possible that one from his letters or other writings, did he might be a mere slave to spiritual appe- accept any of the distinctive theological tites, affections, and wants," holding, ap- dogmas of the Romanizing party; but cerparently, that an instinct may create an in- tainly, before many months, the circumtellectual object for itself; yet, at the same stances by which he was surrounded forced time, not giving sufficient weight to the truth upon him a thorough examination of his rethat, despite all perversions, it is a substan- ligious belief; and, whether in the spirit of tive argument that our hearts do yearn reaction or not, he subjected the whole towards One greater than ourselves, that our structure of his creed, by way of test, to a hands are stretched out in the dark and feel treatment so violent as to shake it to its after Him, if haply they might find Him. lowest foundation. "Moral honesty , without "intellectual honesty" was, with Clough, but a vain thing. He had been plunged, while yet only a boy, into the midst of the agitation of the Tractarian movement at Oxford. There he had seen men's "moral honesty" inducing them to cut asunder the ties of old friendships and old associations, and to abandon, for the sake of what they held true, the pos- sired for him was that during his undergradu"What was before all things to have been desession or prospect of wealth and position. ate career he should have given himself up But, also, he had seen them accept as truth, thoroughly to his classical and mathematical through the want, as he thought, of that studies, and kept himself from plunging premaother honesty, the whole circle of mediæval turely into the theological controversies then so fables and monkish miracles. At school the rife at Oxford. Thus he would have been saved contact of Dr. Arnold's mind — as was to from all injury to the gradual and healthy be expected exerted a remarkable power growth of his mind and character. It is my over Clough. His natural conscientious-own very strong impression that, had this been ness, sense of responsibility, and courageous permitted, his future course of thought and love of truth made him keenly appreciative of the kindred qualities in the mind of Arnold, and were themselves at the same time deepened and intensified. Archbishop Whately used frequently to assert of himself (though we question the justice of the assertion) that he possessed no influence over other men - meaning by the word the power which one mind possesses over another, and by which it sways it independently of, and apart from, the amount of felt love, fear, or respect, and beyond what can be referred to reason, regard for interest, or any intelligible motive. Clough came successively under the influence, in this sense of the word, of two of the most powerful of such magnetic or mesmeric minds-first in Arnold, of Rugby, and afterwards in John Henry Newman. The latter was at the full height of his power at Oxford when Clough came into residence; and it is quite apparent that for awhile Clough was deeply sensible of his marvellous attraction.* But

⚫ Yet, in estimating the force of the impressions made upon Clough at this period of his life, it is worth observing that there is scarcely a verse of his poems in which the influence of either " Lyra Apos

tolica" or "The Christian Year" is directly traceable.

speculation would have been essentially different from what it was in fact. Drawn, as it were peremptorily, when a young man just come the most important that can occupy the mind, up to college, into a decision upon questions the result was not surprising."

In these remarks there can be no doubt

that there is much justice; but we cannot be persuaded that the radical constitution of Clough's mind was such as under any circumstances to admit of an easy acceptance of untried truths. His scepticism was not confined to religion; it was a fundamental habit of his mind. It appears in his beliefs on political and social questions; it enters into his treatment of even the nearest and most personal feelings of his heart. If ever there was a man who fully felt what it was to be beset behind and before by the snares of self-delusion, Clough was that man. Was it friendship, or love, or politics, or religion that occupied him? There was first felt the prompt impulse the bidding of the instinet; then the doubt and the examination in which impulse and instinct were sifted; then the doubt of the doubt, and the hesitancy in decision. Again, Clough's scepticism (using the word in its wide sense), however much it was affected by the




general current of the thought of our time, I was besieged by the French. But though has a note which we recognize as quite pe- sympathizing with the Roman people in culiar to itself. If we are right in our their struggle, his eagerness was plainly analysis, it is at least partly due to this checked by something of scepticism as to the that his scepticism had no proclivity, de- issues at the best. Quid Romæ faciam ?" rived from feelings or wishes, towards unbe- he writes. What's politics to he, or he lief. The desire was to believe, the wish to politics?" And again, two months later, was to hold fast all that showed itself at the I am full of admiration of Mazzini. But, first beautiful, generous, and holy. He on the whole, Farewell politics utterly! dreaded the pain of the consequences to What can I do? Study is more to the purwhich he foresaw his examination might pose." "Still, while losing something of his lead him, but he dreaded yet more the pain early hopefulness, to the end his feelings of being untrue to himself. He had no en- went with all liberal movements in politics. joyment in mere destructive criticism for Nor did his residence in the United States its own sake. "It is no new gospel," he of America change his convictions. On says, "to tell us that the old one is of dubi- his return to London in 1853 he writes to ous authenticity." And he was as en- his New England friend, Mr. Charles Eliot tirely out of sympathy with the self-con- Norton: tented believers in the speedily approaching culmination of all perfection in nineteenthcentury civilization and the working out of our present social theories, as with those traditionalists who are the opponents of all progress:

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"Receive it not, but leave it not,

And wait it out, O Man!"


Really, I may say I am only just beginning to recover my spirits after returning from the young, and hopeful, and humane republic to this cruel, unbelieving, inveterate old monarchy. There are deeper waters of ancient knowledge and experience about one here, and one is saved from the temptation of flying off into space; but I think you have, beyond all question, the happiest and best country going. Still the political talk of America, such as one hears it here, is not always true to the best intention of the country - is it?"

It would be impossible in this paper to enter into a detailed examination of the religious opinions of Clough. It must suffice to say in a general way that his refusal to accept the Christian creed seems to proceed rather from a deep sense of the extremely doubtful character of the evidences, than from the results of an actual examination of them with a view to establish

how far the admitted doubtfulness of the

The revolutionary movement that agitated Europe in the years '48 and '49 was watched by Clough with deep interest, and, at first, with much hopefulness. But no man took a shorter time to learn from experience. He had spent part of the spring and summer proofs, together with the admitted weakness of 1848 in Paris, and had seen the be- of human powers, is sufficient to determine ginnings of the brief-lived Republic. The that the alleged facts on which Christianity next year he writes in one of his letters: - is built are not historically credible.

learn from the failure and discomfiture of our


"Manuscripts are doubtful," he says, rec"I am not so clear as you are of the rotten-ords may be unauthentic, criticism is feeble, ness of this poor old ship here [in England]. historical facts must be left uncertain. Even in Something, I think, we rash young men may like manner my own personal experience is most have I seen? what do I know? Nor is my perlimited, perhaps even most delusive. What sonal judgment a thing I feel any great satisfaction in trusting. My reasoning powers are weak, my memory doubtful and confused, my conscience it may be callous or vitiated."

friends in the new republic. The millennium,
as Matt. [Mr. Matthew Arnold] says, won't come
this bout. I am myself much more inclined to
be patient and make allowance for existing neces-
sities than I was.
The very fighting of the time
taught one that there were worse things than
pain, and makes me more tolerant of the less
acute though more chronic miseries of society.
These also are stages towards good, or conditions
of good. Whether London will take my hope-
fulness out of me remains to be seen. Peut-

In the year 1849, during a journey in
Italy, he happened to be at Rome when it

While all this may be true, we must not assume that the weighing of evidence and balancing of probabilities may not afford a substantia! basis for faith. In an argument with which Clough was familiar, and whose cogency he acknowledges, Butler had taught this long before. How the historical claims of Christianity were brought before the

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mind of Clough, or how they were examined of will, or, in fine, some judicially-inby him, we are not able to say. But as he flicted blindness. Assumptions like these, seems to have been unable to perceive any applied with a sweeping generality, are connection between the truth of the alleged wanting as much in the warrant of sound facts and the spiritual result which he reason as in the hopefulness of Christian found in the religious tradition" of Chris- charity. There can, indeed, be no student tendom, we are led, not unnaturally, to of human nature who does not perceive the question the searching character of an in- sufficiently obvious fact of the disturbing vestigation which appeared to him to have influence of the affections upon the judghad no practical object.* ment. But it is impossible to infer the ethical character of the emotion when once we have discovered that eagerness of desire in some persons produces results entirely similar to dread or dislike in others. With such, the thing they hope for is "too good to be true."

It is with a feeling of mingled disgust and indignation that we observe the off-hand manner in which it is so often assumed in the pulpit, in popular religious books, and even in theological works, where greater caution might be expected, that any unreadiness to accept the evidence which may Again, in questions that do not show happen to be offered in support of the doc- themselves to be practical nor demand an trines of the Catholic creeds must of neces-immediate answer, it is not always possible sity be due to some desire after evil, or to give a complete assent of the mind, even some obliquity of moral vision, or some in the case of a clear preponderance of pro"pride of intellect," or some perversity babilities. In the sense intended by Butler, "religion is a practical thing," and "probability is the very guide of life." But more than the regulation of our course of conduct is included within religion. And though actions do not look further back than the dictate of the will (which was determined by general considerations weighing in this or that direction), the affections are in no direct subjection to the will, and their outflow cannot fail to be restrained or impeded by any least shade of doubt as to the hypothetical character of their objects. And surely, on the whole, it is at least not too much to say that faultiness or inexactness in the presentation of the evidence, or intellectual idiosyncrasy, or both together, may in some cases sufficiently account for results which we deplore, while we are unwilling to attribute them to moral perversity.

We do not regret that it has been thought well to publish in the present volumes the review of F. W. Newman's "The Soul," and the Notes on Religious Tradition. Of a mind like Clough's it is well to know all that is to be known. But it is with pain that we find him so very much farther removed from us than we had fancied. One word may be said in ref. erence to some of the opinions expressed in the first of these articles. We cannot feel sure, according to Clough, that the devotional attitude of the soul brings us into contact with any order of real existences, and that at least, whether it does or not, devotional practices unfit us for our ergon here- the actual work of life. He does not, we need hardly add, consider in any way the question of those results of prayer which are not the results of the self-posturing of the soul, and to which the name supernatural would be attached by most persons. But apart from this consideration-the results merely subjective in their origin we cannot think have been truly described. For example- the experience of many will substantiate the truth that prayer may be, not a kind of letting off of spiritual force, but a gaining of force; not an outbursting of emotion without result, but an ingathering of strength, a concentrating of scattered powers into a self-possession. It is no small thing, surely, to have intensified "the earnest desire to do good," though the way to do it yet remaius obscure." On the extravagances against which Clough is indignant we have nothing to say. but we feel it is unfair that the picture of devout and religious persons in general should be drawn from such as consult a random text in a chanceopened Bible, or the augury from the "head or tail of a providential sixpence." Yet Clough recognizes "the mysterious instinct of prayer" as a fact in the natural history of man, and will not class this delicate exhalation of man's inmost humanity" in any list of gases, mephitic or otherwise;" and in one characteristic poein he even ventures to say— "It may be true

That while we walk the troublous tossing sea


There are who walk beside us; and the cry
That rises so spontaneous to the lips,
The Help us or we perish' is not nought

An evanescent spectrum of disease

It may be that indeed, and not in fancy,

A hand that is not ours upstays our steps,
A voice that is not ours commands the waves:
At any rate,

That there are beings above us, I believe,
And when we lift up holy hands in prayer,
I will not say they will not give us aid."

No one can peruse the biography before us untouched by the noble glow of earnestness that pervaded the entire life of Clough. His was no life of dreamy inaction, toying, dilettante-like, with the luxury of doubt. Not by a single act only, but by the labours of his whole brief life, he vindicates for himself the character of one who was not a hearer merely, but a doer of the word that God spake to his heart. We learn in the memoir how the resignation of his fellowship at Oriel was in his case a sacrifice peculiarly trying. Yet there is no ado about the matter, no exhibition of puling sentiment, no eagerness for sympathy, no seeking for condolence, and no condoling with himself. The same manly cheerfulness in the performance of duty, the same adult self-containedness, are characteristic of him in every circumstance of his life. In all the subtlywoven intricacies of the heart's doubts and

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