'purchase,' (making the Crown outwit the House of Lords), if our control or supply system cannot march 30,000 men thirty miles with friendly farmers in our own country; if this annual autumn campaigning is not real campaigning, with supplies not coming across the enemy's' lines; if all the subsidiary services are not to be called out to co-operate, really to cooperate, as in time of war, in actual campaigning combination, to ensure, really to ensure, the exercise, and thereby the proper selection for promotion of officers in executing these combinations. Otherwise re-organisation' is only a much-abused word.

It is no use preaching about the 'kingdom of heaven within' to undergraduates, if a great ancestral' college, the scat of political and noble men's sons, is a seat of carelessness, idleness, conviviality, practical jokes, even if nothing worse.

It is no use talking about the 'kingdom of heaven within,' if our home is a nest of jarring or thoughtless elements, every member trying to do as he or she likes, even though without much harm-to get all they can of pleasure or amusement out of this poor earth, giving nothing back. Every one of us has known how the finest moral natures, in this home life have been trampled out, have existed uselessly. Unable to raise others to their standard, their very virtues, their humility and unselfishness, have turned against them, have dragged them down to others' standards.

The kingdom of heaven within and not without, is too much of the doctrine of Roman Catholic or other modern mystics, or Euthyphros,' or Ecclesiastics, who never propose any kingdom of heaven without, except that there should be more prayers organised.

This is exactly the doctrine of mo.

dern religious women. They would never create a kingdom of heaven without, would never 'contribute to the re-constitution of society,' [a phrase borrowed, somewhat reluctantly, from a (not) admirable Communist philosopher]. In some sense, our teaching of universal toleration,' of 'charity,' rather than teaching that we must search out the truth, with groanings that cannot be uttered,' is an obstacle to 'progress,' by making the present state of things beautiful.

4. Is there not danger that we may run altogether into

a. Universal toleration, b. Universal criticism ? And though this seems a paradox, is it one?

For a. in eclecticism people lose discrimination; discrimination of truth, of character, discrimination between the merits of various ways of life or various circumstances, discrimination between what is mere criticism, and what is creation or progress towards creation.

There are some who see no dif ference between Sidney Herbert and other war ministers; between Sir Robert Peel and other premiers.

There are some who see little difference between St. Paul and a Saturday Reviewer.

There are some who see no difference between Christ Church and Balliol Colleges. Or, if they do, they think indifference and carelessness better than what they are pleased to call a 'hot bed of rationalism and infidelity.'

There are some who see little difference between a Luther and a Père Hyacinthe: a Savonarola and a Dr. Döllinger.

There are some who see no dif ference between the mutual flattery of clever men of a college or members of a family; and the real, honest sympathy and co-operation in the real honest search after truth.

There are some who see no difference between a Positivist and a John Stuart Mill-oh! too soon taken from us-he 'should have died hereafter,'-when shall we see again that true 'liberality,' which would wish to be defeated in the cause of truth?-when shall we see again that Passion of Reason or Reason of Passion-impassioned Reason and reasonable Passionwise, but thrilling with emotion to his fingers' ends '-passionate in the cause of Truth alone, Sancta Sophia?-Had there been a goddess called the Passion of Reason,' he would not have considered the gender humiliating, but have asked: Why did the Greeks make Wisdom a Woman? There are none like him -none to come after him. [It seems equally impossible to pass over the death of such a man without a note, or with such a note as this.]

6

Bat we must on.

And b. Does it not follow from such want of the discriminating power that criticism is rife, very rife indeed? that people scarcely can speak of others, except by speaking ill of them? so that whoever is rightly disgusted by this can hardly let others be spoken of at all in his presence. Also, that there is scarcely anything between stupid praise or bitter criticism? and no discrimination as to the ideal lying hid in each man's character, as to the work he can do in life.

Yet there must be an ideal in God's mind for each man, woman, and child, for the work he, she, or it is put here to do.

But may we not be pretty sure that by 1899 or 1999 either, Père Hyacinthe and Dr. Döllinger will not have reformed the Church; that Bismarck will not have assisted Religion by expelling the Jesuits; that the French will not have given France a Government or a Constitution, at least through ousting of M. Thiers; that

Christ Church College will not have brought Oxford to philosophy, statemanship, or real learning, at least under the present régime; that Reviewing will not have made one discoverer of truth or of the ways and plans of God, nor even one earnest seeker after the ways and plans of God; that present politics will not have re-organised Army, or Navy, or Church; or abolished crime or pauperism; that present preaching which takes so very small a part, aspires after so very small a part of the reorganisation of life, will not have re-organised life by 1999 ?

Discussion now-a-days almost precludes consideration-it leaves. no time for thought. Criticism precludes real judgment. It is not mere discussion, the busy-body discussion, not people discussing a subject who know nothing and have thought out nothing about it, or only what they have gleaned by reading different articles of opposite periodicals-which brings any contribution to the real knowledge of the subject, which does any good. That is discussion, not of sense, but of nonsense. The only discussion which can be of any use is that between persons who have thought out something about the subject

who bring some contribution of individual thought or of personal knowledge to the common stock. What a valuable rule it would be, for every half-hour spent in discussion, spend two previous half-hours. in thought! Discussion will not govern the world, nor even a single

In this wilderness, not of 'monkeys,' but of critics, would it not cry: Create and do not criticise? Goethe's idea of a devil-' der Geist der stets verneint'- -was: the spirit of criticism without earnestness, which is always negative, never creates which neither hates what is bad nor loves what is good-criticism without results.

And the German tale indicates the same: The student rising by earnest effort to a certain height; then, what comes to kill the enthusiasm which bore him up? Criticism without depth! He becomes a clever common-place critic of that towards which he once so earnestly struggled upwardsthe insight into God's plans of moral government, which are leading us on to perfection in eternity -for perfection equals eternity; that is, the idea of perfection, of progress towards perfection includes the idea of eternityis the same, in fact-since we see very well that no one attains perfection here; and he must be but a stupid creator who grants, nay arranges for a little progress, and then cuts it short. As St. Anselm and Descartes found a formula for the evidence of the existence of God, so a formula, perhaps, might be found-might it not? for evidence of the existence of eternity in God's idea of perfection.

But criticism has no sympathy with nor insight into the ways of God, the higher ways of man. It has no idea of understanding the Welt-Ordnung,' the plans or laws of the Almighty Father. It makes a great show of enquiry and of power; but there is nothing behind, nothing within, nothing with the principle of life in it, it is all temporary, negative, unreal. It interrupts us when we are beginning to find out something of the ways and thoughts and purposes

of God, and volunteers a thought or way of its own.

May we finish with another parable?

Criticism has stripped Religion of many superstitions, has killed innumerable parasites which choked her vigour, truth and beauty-has cleared away historical or traditional rubbish, or rather what was not historical, with mistranslations, interpolations, and all the rest of it has cured Religion of many ugly excrescences. But has it advanced us one step nearer in the study of God's real character, the character which makes us love? Has it taught us the knowledge of the Perfect Being? And is not the love of a Perfect Being the essence of all Religion? May it not rather have killed Religion with the cure of superstition? Here is my parable:-A famous French physician exclaimed when his patient died: 'Il est mort guéri.'

Let us not have to say: Religion is cured, but dead. Let us not think when we have stripped or cured Astronomy, Science, History, above all Religion, of their superstitions, errors, vain traditions, excrescences, that this is all.

Sometimes it had almost been better if we could not go on to the discovery of truth, that we had let feeling, though mixed with error, alone. True Truth must always inspire a higher feeling than truth mixed with error. But then truth must be found. Up then, and 'Onward, Forward and Heavenward,' as our Hindoo reformer says.

Let us press on so that 1999 shall have as much more truth than 1873 as it should have; much more advance of truth than 1873 has over 1746; for truth should advance by geometrical, not arithmetical progression, or rather by progress which cannot be measured or fettered by numbers.

ROISSART'S Chronicles probably throw more light on certain aspects of the period to which they refer than is thrown by any other single writer upon any other period. What Boswell did for the literary society of which Johnson formed the centre, what St. Simon did for the Court of Louis XIV., Froissart did for the military life of the fourteenth century. His history extends over a period of seventy-three years, beginning with the accession of Edward III. in 1327, and ending with the coronation of Henry IV. in 1400. He appears to have been born himself in 1337, and he must have lived into the fifteenth century, though the date of his death is not known. His whole life was devoted to the production of his book. He was continually engaged either in collecting materials for it or in making use of them. This

appears from many passages, in which he describes his various journeys and their common object; namely, to collect information.

I, John Froissart (he says in one place), set myself to work at my forge to produce new and notable matter relative to the wars between France and England and their allies... which excellent materials I shall work upon as long as I live, for the more I labour at it the more it delights me, just as a gallant knight or squire at arms who loves his profession, the longer he continues in it so much the more delectable it appears.

Notices, indeed, are scattered over the latter half of his work, which show that he had hardly any other occupation in life than that of collecting news. Speaking of one of the attempts made in the time of Richard II. to make a permanent peace between England and France, he says, I, who at the time resided in Abbeville to learn news'-Abbeville being the scene of the treaty. But the most characteristic passage

of all is one in which he gives an account of his modus operandi:

I may, perhaps, be asked, how I became acquainted with the events in this history to speak so circumstantially about them. I reply to those who shall do so, that I sought in divers kingdoms and countries have with great attention and diligence

for the facts which have been or may hereafter be mentioned in it: for God has given me grace and opportunities to see and make acquaintance with the greater part of the principal lords of France and England. It should be known that in the year 1390 I had laboured at this history thirty-seven years, and at that time I was fifty-seven years old: a man may, therefore, learn much in such a period when he is in his vigour and well received by all parties. During my youth I was five years attached to the King and Queen of England, and kindly entertained in the household of King John of France and King Charles his son. I was in consequence enabled to hear much during those times; and for certain the greatest pleasure I have ever had was to make every possible enquiry in regard to what was passing in the world, and then to write down all that I had learnt.

The result of the uninterrupted and sedulous gratification of these tastes, for many years of his life together, was that he succeeded. in producing an enormous historical picture, which, whatever may be its defects in detail, may at all events be trusted to give a vivid general representation of its subject. I will try to give some indications of the nature of the principal matters which are to be learnt from his pages. The task is not so formidable as it might appear to be from the extent of the work. Johnes's translation of Froissart contains six thick volumes in common 8vo., or 1,500 closely printed pages in royal 8vo., but by far the greater part of the work is composed of matter so uniform in its character, that it is comparatively easy to point out and illustrate the most striking passages.

The first words of the first chap

ter state correctly the object of the whole book: To encourage all valorous hearts, and to show them honourable example, I, John Froissart, will begin to relate, &c.' The one eternal subject of the apparently endless history is war. Other things come in incidentally, but the general impression which Froissart gives is that the age in which he lived was completely given over to fight ing, and cared about nothing else whatever. Besides the great war between France and England, which lasted, with occasional and very illobserved truces, for about one hundred and twenty years, there were subsidiary wars almost too numerous to mention: wars between England and Scotland, wars between the French and the Flemings, wars between Ghent and Bruges, threesided wars in Brittany, wars between France and Navarre, wars in Spain, wars in Portugal, wars in Béarn, wars in the different provinces which fell by degrees under the power of the Dukes of Burgundy, wars in the country of Foix; wars, in a word, wherever there was an independent or semi-independent feudal ruler. The possession of Gascony by the Black Prince let loose the Gascons against the French in every direction; and, to crown all, the Free Companies carried on wars on their own private account, which were neither more nor less than murder, robbery, and arson on a gigantic scale, and conducted for no other object than that of collecting plunder. These wars, moreover, were very different from those of later times. A war in the fourteenth century seems to have meant unlimited license to everyone who could raise a small force, to fly at the throats of everyone else who had anything to lose. We learn from other authorities what were the practical results of wars thus conducted. Great parts of France were reduced to the condition of a desert, which it ceased to be worth

while to cultivate. The population took refuge in caves, and endured a degree of misery which has probably been seldom exceeded at any period of history. Such is the picture, as drawn by modern historians, of the result of the English wars in France; but, except by an effort of reflection, no one would ever be led to suspect its existence simply by reading Froissart. His history flows on in an interminable stream of narrations of petty contests, the interest of which has long since entirely ceased. Castle after castle is besieged and taken, town after town burnt, skirmish after skirmish won or lost, and yet it never seems to occur to the chronicler that there is anything shocking in his story, or that anyone can recognise in it anything but a delectable record of magnificent exploits. With Joinville war, at least war between Christians, is a great evil, and the preservation of the lives and property of his subjects is the great duty of a feudal lord-a greater and more pressing duty even than crusading. Comines, again, is full of moral reflections on the iniquitous and monstrous character of many of the events which he witnessed; but Froissart, l'insouciant Froissart,' as M. Michelet continually calls him, is perfectly at ease in his conscience, and never feels shocked at anything that he has to record.

In Edward the Third's first invasion of Picardy' a troop of English and Germans came to Origny St. Bénoit, a tolerably good town, but weakly enclosed, so that it was soon taken by assault, robbed, and pillaged, an abbey of nuns violated, and the whole town burnt. They then marched towards Guise and Ribemont. The King of England came and lodged at Vehories, where he remained a whole day, while his people overran all the country thereabouts and laid it waste. The King then took his road to La Flamengrie, in his