BOOKS.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 10423, 27 July 1895, Page 2

BOOKS.

liife 'dn^'l/stters of Urdsmua '-T-Lectnre ' .delivered^ at Oxford'in '18934 fey' James 'Anthony, Fboodb'1 London ■~ Longman's; 'JGreeu/anidbo..;;;^; - '.],_ " '.'.\: ■','' ■ '■" '.:'.• ;.v ■ ; '-- When Froude, two or three years ago,'was appqmte.d to,the/chair'; of '^modern bistpry at 'Oitqrd/th^j7M/much''''donbtfiilv>bragrgiiigi of;: r ; shoulders = over-. the. appointment., ■, It seemed somehow that; if Freemani had been the .right;;'man," then; of 'Frqude must be the wrong. -Freeman^undoubtedly was the truly Scientific' historian—absolutely accurate, reliable,' and: not too' easily' read.1 The brilliant Fronde, on thebther bancl, was believed to bring too'much 'imagination; to his v<brk; yetfin his mostaudacious histprical ■parAdoi-^his history of 'Henryyill-rhe cites ap/amy of original authdrities'.whicn .for theliimebeing .cornea absolute : conviction to the. mind of the mere general reader. -: The fact is thatFroudehassuch a charming way with him that he; can persuade to anything those who regard history merely as literature; This may be.wrong; but it is very pleasant; InV_certaih,departmeni;s of knowledge, we t ara st,ware, it is field almost discreditable to have jia. charming;;'s>yl'e. '.'.'Histbry; iB; one of'them; ;sclenpe, is.another., Any attempt ,to secure ihe;grapeS:Of .lormin.either.iOf.these.jbrings .the,;,writer r under.auspicion of• aiming Jat the ?'popular"; and-'.the "popular " is;.accursed to the truly learned mind. Now, there can be no • doubt 7 that Froude■; is • a popular writer j anyoneoan readhim,anyone can'understand him: he makes the" personages of.histbiy (who; are mere"stofEed specimens "■. in -other historians} as mubh alire.aß the characters of ii.noyel; ;Hnd, for! nmch the; same\ reason— .—because he,^brings,.,imagination to his !.wofk. Whether he conceives his .historic personage rightlys or ■. wrongly, he conceives a living person, and makes you-riee his con^ ceptionas:heseesit. - v ': ' ' : This is what Froude does for Erasmus. •Fayouritism is in the very nature of an hisI torianlike Froude.' Ha" has his likes and his "dislikes; and he; likes" Erasmus'-^far better; ' for idstance, than ha likes' Luther, who.was •"a" ppcb better... man, >'The con3equenc2 \i that.Jae; takes great!pain's with; his 'subject; Having a, natural^ sympathy .with temperaments like that of Erasmus, he utida it eafey to. understand .him; v and delightful -to espound him. .Further, not^ Batjsfied with interpreting this wonderEulNspirit; he: now and then,in his zeal, attempts to'defendhim and excuse his faults; and this sureiy.in Buchah artist," is a mistake.'; '■' .;'. '..;' As everybody knows, Erasmus was a priest of the sixteenth century, who never would:do priest's duty. There wakriot a man of his century who worked harder—at what he likedi ; Everybody knows alsq. that one thing Erasmus did was to layan egg, which Luther hatched: and this is perhaps the sum-total of n\at everybody knows about Erasmus. • . ■■. •■ ■ Those who hava read Tim Cloistejc and the Hpdrilt, will -remember that in that novel Eeade takes'for'.hi3 heroi and .heroine the father and mother of Erasmus.; There is some, doubt, However, about the parentage ,of Erasmus: he wassaid to be a " loye.-cbild"— but this was.a, shaft of the enemy, Froude thinks. .At-any rate, he was left an orphan at an early age, and was practically forced to choose a monastic life by his- guardians, who had mismanaged his patrimony and dreaded being called to account.; He struggled hardnot to became a monk, but a monk he became. Very soon; however, he severed' himself from his monastery, and from that time till his death gave himself up to scholarship and to plaguing' the monks. Erasmus found a patronj'in the Bishop of Cambray, through whom, he,was able, ,to pi'osiicute,his studies in Patis.. Throughout: his life, indeed, he was always on the lookout for patrons, from whom he might extract the necessary coin," his notions' of fiaance being the simple and airy notionß of Harold Skimpole. He was an insatiable lover of books, hut lie would not work at anything that might briag him bread. On the other hand, he was the most impudent beggar of his time. Amongst his. acquaintance there was a certain Lady de Vere, the rich widow of a Flemish grandee, who was disposed to encourage and help learned men. Erasmns had been her guest for a time; and a certain Boswellian friend of his, named Battns, held some office ia the lady's household. Erasmus, who wan always hard up, aud yet who could not live without hia little creature comforts, writes to Battus importuning him to dun the Lady de Vere for money—"l must have money. If I cannot have it from her, I must.borrow fxom a Paris banker. You say that you have writtea to her about it again and again, hinting, suggesting, entreating—and all in vain. You should have gone more roundly to work. You shonld have been peremptory, and then all would have gone well. Modesty is out of placa when yon have a friend to eerve." Truly, nothing so unmistakably marks a great man aa his knack o£ always finding a Battus to do his dirty work. Erasmus visited England altogether four times. His first visit was madis whon our Eighth Henry \v?.s a sweet boy of nine—' tbnti is, in the reign of that very frugal sovereign Henry the Seventh. Erasmus was cleHghtod with overythint?—-with the beautiful country, tbe mild ciiiaate, the delightful compariy he met. Being a moak,

ho bad no business to notice it, bat be found the English girls "divinely pretty." Tucy wore " Bofli,- pleanant, gentle, and charming as the Muses." They kissed him when thef met him. and they kissed him when they lefS him. "Go where you will; it iB all kisses; and, my dear Fanstns, if you had once tasted how soft and fragrant thosa lips are, you would wish to spend your life here." A pretty way this for a son of the ohurch to write 1 Assuredly tha cowl maketh not the monk. At this juncture one might have expected the apologetic Froude to say a little word by way of extenuation ; but he pas«es on unconcerned, as if it were the proper thing for monks to kiss girls and find their lips fragrant.

Before returning to France Erasmus bagged a nice little purse of 200 sovereigns, tho collective contributions of his friends—More.Mountjoy, Golot, and others. Unfortunately there was an Eoglish law of the time that torbade the ; exportation of . specie, gold-or silver. More suppose^ ' Ms law had reference only to English c and so Erasmus by his advice had his taomy changed ioio French currency, whereupon it was seized and confiocated at Dover by the custom officials of

•tiie frugal Henry Tudor; and so Erasmus returned to Paris penniless. It says a good deal for the sweetness of hia disposition that he loved England and the EagJish to the end o£ his daya. : . .'. '{.",- ■...- '..- • ;■■.■: : .

,' It was an unlucky day for the monks when they>persuaded—almost forced—Erasmus to take the vows and become one of themselves. The bright lad should one day become the ornament of hiss1 order;'lt wa3 thought: he became' its scourge. Erasmus did'not remain long attached to the monastery; but he remained long enough, to gain some kno.wladge of. the monk 3 and their .ways; and outrageously, scandalised :he professed him-'self.,-,t9. be.i Whether, the : ,monks of his time were, as black as he paints them, or: • whether they -.iwore ■ not, he believed them .;to be-utterly corrupt,1 and was never: tired of > ridiculing and deriouuciDg, with all his large powers of witty invective, their ignorance, licentiousness, and' corruption. .First" be published the " Adagia,"—a mere: compilation,"from 'his" commonplace book, of epigrams; anecdotes, and so on; "seasoned, however, with occasional', reflec-: tion3 of his own, and with sarcasms, directed

at .the;; divines and 'divinity-..0f .-his time. Then.qame.his'. Latin translation of the New Testament,-with a preface to each Gospel and notes ;on • special passages—these' notes

frequently -taking the form of diatribes against "the religions orders "\oi the time. "Never;" says- Froude, "; was r volume more passionately devonrefl. A. hundred thousand.' copies, were soon ..sold ,in Erance alone. '.The fire, spread^ as.it spread behind.. Samson's foxes ,in the , Philistine's 'corn. . The clergy!s skins wsre tender frota

long .impunity,.. Thoy shrieked.from' pulpit ana platform,^and made Europe ring' with

thsir clamour.; «The. louder they cried the more clearly Europe perceived the j astice of

their chastisement. The words of the Bible have been so long "familiar to/us that wo can hardly realise what the effect must hive been when the Gospelwas brought out fre*h and visible before ,the astonished; eye 3 of mankind.",,' "''-'". r"'"."'''l'-' .-V , ..■■'..,■.:■■. . ,:-.:.' .'.

"': Next' cams the JSaeomium Morion (Praise I of, Folly).. Worse and;worse. ■. ThisJia..- the style of thing:—" They call it a sign of holiness to be unable to read. ; Thsy bray out' the Psalms in,the churches like so;many ■jackasses;M-They\ do not■■underDtatfd a'word : of; them,' but they fancy the' sound is sooth-ing'-'to the ears ox the saints; The rnedicant 'friars howl for alms along the streets. ■ They .pretend 'to resemble the Apostles, and they arc filthy, igndransV impudent i: vagabonds. T|iey have their roles, forsooth. ; Yes, rules—■ .how many knots, for instance, there may be -in aßhoe.etrlng, how their petticoats Bhonld be cnt.or coloured,''&c, &o. '' ■ ■ ,-■. :■ .: !:. ■ Then i followed; his edition of '■ ; Jerome's works (dedicated to the then1 reighuig\Pope ■LaoiK), the Colloquies; Edition<>f Augustine, and .other works. :C3rtainiy Erasmus, was severe on his.\ brother monks. If a quarter fpifwhat he said, was true, then, reform was badly needed. ' /But it was preform that Erasmus.wanted, not. schism or revolution. He always professed;..himself a filial eon of the mother church: and be it noted that, at a time when, according .to Froude, the monks of; Europe would willingly have rent him in he: was on most friendly terms with -various great churchmen-and with the Pope; •More wak not an ecclesiastici but he'waVa

trtiesohoftha churcb.'andsuffiered-'inartyr-, idom for its sake;' and More remained to the last''day of-his^ life affectionately : attached to Erasmus."- . ''" '['.[., '■." . '■'"" ',"' .'."■'.''• "\ -'"" .

JBut tor all that,- Erasmus laid tlna egg of the Reformation, and presently came Luther I and sat upon it. v .• AaU.a pretty state of perplexed consternation-was that ot Erasmus when h.e;saw the strange chicken-that was hatched* "See. what you have-done—you and- your Greek! " shrieked' the" rnouks. "You .have earnestly and ably advocated reform," said the Lutherans; "come over, therefore, and help the cause you prof ess to have at heart." But Mr Tfacitig-bbth-ways would take neither one .side nor the other. Then both monks , and /Lutherans,.rose up and " tnorally- and physically, denounced "him; The-monks,: if-' they had.their .way,,would have made a/good riddance :olMiim at the stake; but-,, as. lie himself acknowledged, there, was nothing of which he was less ambitious, than'of martyrdom; it was hot in his line. Since he had been the original ■causa, .of all the Luther.hub-bub, the least he could now do as a faithful son of the church was to take the" arena against Luther, to write something that would give the heretic his. final quielus.- So said..the Louvaia monks, his enemies;. so .urged his friends, More and others; the Pope al3o was anxious that he should bsstir himself. 'Bat Erasmus kept stubbornly silent, and would not even read what Luther wrote, id order that he ■might ba able to say that he knew nothing of the;heresies1 they wanted him' to confute. Not that' Erasmus had any leaning towards the Lutheran' party, of which, on the contr^ryy' he entirely 'disapproved. The Lutherans, indeed, ware as angry with him as were the. monk's. They. Witted. him with cowardice, with not having the'courage of his convictions; and mpsc bitter-amongst them was an erstwhile friend and discipla of his own. But the thought of schism ia the chareh1 was utterly repugnant to him,-and he hatad fanatics and enthusiasts. "They call ma' Lutheran," he writes to a "friend. " Had 'I but held out a little finger to Luther Germany would have seen what I'could do. But I would rather die ten times over than make a schism. I bave acted honestly throughout; Germany knows it now, and I will,make all men know it." What Erasmus wanted was, not that Luther should be put down with a high hand, which was the policy of the Vatican, but that the Popa should cat the ground from under the heretic's feet, by instituting necessary reforms and ridding the church of its glaring absurdities and scandals. ' • ' ■ :

. jln short, the last half of the life of Eras- j mus is"an impressive illustration of the evil ot moderation. "Be ya either cold or hot." Erasmus lived in an age of enthusiasm?, and be was himself no enthusiast. , He was too clear-sighted, too much alive to tha ridiculous to commit himself to the excesses of what he calls the " New Gospellers.".■■■■ Above all his distinguishing characteristic a3 a churchman was toleration in matters of dogma ; and he foresaw, or thought he foresaw, that the cLew Protestant theology of Luther might end ia becoming as intolerant arid ar. dangerous to religious liberty as the old Catholic.' Afc last, however; Erasmus was ever-persuaded by his friends to write against Luther; and he wrote'a treatise on "Free WjU"-^a corner-stone of Lather's doctrine bfciog denial of the freedom of the will. Bat Krasmns had batter have left it alone, for •all. the good he did; his metaphysical treatise neither ; pleased the monks ncr daunted Luther. . So Erasmus died, as he lived, the apostle of toleration and breadth, protesting against Luther's treatment of the church and against the church's treatment o£ Luther. He was a man greatly honoured in his day, courted by scholars', statesmen, kings, and popes; and it .is one of the delightful, things' in this volume that these great contemporaries live over again in its pages. Erasmus lived long enough to survive, though not for.long, his dearest friends, some of whom, like Sir Thomas More, died on the scaffold.

Walt Whitman: Uis Relation to Suienct

and Philosophy.

By Wm. Gay.

This is a paper read at the meeting of the Australasian Association for the Advancement of Science, bold in Brisbane in January 1595. It is a pieca o£ very admirable v.uitsßg, aad the pleasure imparted by a Vv'ork which is free from the visible signs of either carelessness or effort; predisposes the reader in favour of the author's views. H. 9 is a warm, but not an indiscrirainatiDg, admirer of that anomalous American literary production—Wale Whitman. Exports are not yet agread, we believe, as to whether he was a qus.ck or a. goniuw. It is certain that the coimuou folk, for whom he wrote, simply ignore him, He hoped Ms

conga wouM be sung by tho sailor, the miner, tho farm labourer. They were to baa bond to draw humanity together, and, like mauy another poet, he struck the Btara with bin sublime head, and belifived that not marbl3 or. tha monuments of princes would outlive his powerful rhyras. But he was an innovator, and tho democracy love 3 the conventions. Ie gets its ideas on art and literature, as on politics and religion, from above. And Whitman is still on probation. There is a small section of cultivated mea in England and America who believe in him as a poet, and Mr Gay believes in him as a poetic exponent of science and philosophy a3 well. If thesa peopla are right, titus will atone for tbe present neglect of his works, and the schoolboy of the future may yet read Whitman as be now reads Longfellow and Tennyson, and Whitman societies) may bo founded which will rival those devoted to the beauties and obscurities o£ Bcowning. .

Mr Gay on the whole makes out a good case for his poet, and , makes it all:the stronger by not blinking the fact that " gene- J rally, but hot invariably, he falls below his poetic contemporaries in literary" execution." j After showing that Whitman deals with.the facts of science in his versea in.a way and with a truth that no other post has done, ho states fiuely what he conceives-to be the opportunities offered to'pcotry. by science and philosophy. We give his own .words: "Some of tho facts of science ia their bars statement, and some of the .theories of , later idealistic philosophy in their bars logical presentation, stir op those very depths of the soul which pbstry alone ,is supposed to reach; and if bare facts and: theories can thus affect us, 'how sublime would be the result if some ppefc'of .ade'qtiats genins wero to preaeofc them -to us arranged, orgaaised, clothed with flssh, breatbip^ with •lite!' If ono should now• arise who'would write tha epic of: creatipn in; the light of the: highest thought oJ: to-day »b powerfully'as it; was v/ritteu by Milton from ;his ipoint of view,' mea would at first bo overcome by its' a*nrfnl splendours.. Whitman has attempted' in a rough arid, chaotic,'-biit not, at allineffectual way. to write ithe- epic'ofv the: modern man." Mr Gay doe 3 not claim that Whitman was a philosopher, but he asserts that ■" it was bis transcendent merit that in

him the. maia truths of philosophy entersd; into the domain of feelisg and determined; bis attitude towards, Mature and his fellow-: mea."v' He haa done'gobd liervice by calling; attention to tho exfesh't. tuad Btrecgtlr pf ; Whitman's,work, and .whatever conoiusioM may be arrived at we can at least say'that; readers, of , this little. pßtnphlat. will -be pleased with the ingenuity and,vigonr,of the writer.. A^few copies;may;bg obtained from'

Messrs Wisa aod Go., or froiu the author's | publishers, Messrs Masoo, Firth, and 1 M'Gut.cheou, Melbourne.