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not many of the tourists who visit Moscow so time and adapt their visits as to take the railway to NijniNovgorod, and become acquainted with that great fair, which there, by a thousand links, mingles Europe and Asia. Here he took some of the famous caravan tea-and only the best and costliest is brought overland-but he thought he had had better in New York. He noticed that some persons took about thirtythree teas in the course of the railway journey. Winter-life in St. Petersburg' hardly comes within the title and scope of his work, but we should indeed be sorry to lose these vivid pescriptions of court life in Russia. It is a pleasant change to turn from Mr. Taylor's northern to his southern experiences, and we hardly know which we like best. He is a true cosmopolitan, and has infinite powers of adaptation. When, at breakfast, red mullet came upon the table, and oranges fresh from the tree, I straightway took off my northern nature as a garment, folded it, and packed it neatly away in my knapsack, and took out in its stead the light, beribboned, and bespangled southern nature, which I had not worn for some eight or nine years. It was like a dressing-gown after a dress-coat, and I went about with a delightfully free play of the mental and moral joints.' Mr. Bayard Taylor is rather a disillusionating writer. He describes a beautiful girl with her indolent happiness, her fine, regular, almost Roman profile, her dark masses of hair, her graceful attitude, her impressible eyes, 'a phantom of delight but for the ungraceful fact that she inveterately scratched herself whenever and wherever a flea happened to bite.' Mr. Taylor is the most remarkable traveller of the day, Lady Franklin perhaps excepted.

Several biographical works of importance have appeared, or are promised, or are threatened. We confess that we are disappointed with Mr. Black's translation of the 'Life of Leopold the First,' so far as it has appeared. King Leopold, we observe, was fond of repeating a sensible saying of Lord Palmerston's -that, to be in perfect health, a man

ought to be in the open air for four hours a day, and he appears to have acted on the conviction. Sir James Clark was a fashionable physician, with more solid merits than generally belong to his class; he did very much, also, towards the construction of a science of climatology, His life of such a broad-minded reformer in the treatment of lunacy as Dr. Conolly will be read with much interest, especially in scientific circles. Mr. Forster's 'Life of Walter Savage Landor' is so important that we must seek to return to it separately.

But the critics are all just now sharpening their wits and their pens on Mr.Lecky's new work; and people who pride themselves on intellectual conversation have certainly derived from it both a stimulus and a subject. Mr. Lecky's first work-on an Irish subject-attracted no attention, but his 'History of Rationalism,' published a few years since, was a great success, and after Mr. Gladstone had quoted it, was regarded as almost classical. We may observe, by the way, that Mr. Trench's 'Realities of Irish Life' has several times received the meed of parliamentary praise and quotation: a work not of much substance, but valuable for its vivid and trustworthy narratives. Mr. Lecky's new work on the History of Morals* will, we think, be hardly so successful as its predecessor, although it is equally original in its design and brilliant in its execution. There is a voluminous literature of ethics, which has been chiefly occupied by the discussion of the conflicting theories of the two great schools of opinion on this subject. But we are not acquainted with any formal work that has examined the subject historically and tested the theory by facts of progressive history. This is what Mr. Lecky has tried to do, and he deserves infinite credit for the force and boldness of his attempt. Mr. Lecky shows the more courage, as he is opposing what is certainly the predominant school of thought on this subject at the present moment.

* History of European Morals from Augustus to Charlemagne.' By W. E. H. Lecky, M.A. Longmans.

The Utilitarian school, which the youthful Macaulay thought he had laughed away by those early Essays in the Edinburgh,' which he was ashamed to reprint, is now expounded by Mr. Bain and by Mr. John Stuart Mill; it possessed the adhesion of that powerful authority, the late Mr. Austin, and it is easy to see that it commands the influential suffrage of Mr. Grote.

The Intuitional school-those that affirm that Conscience is an original faculty of the soul, and not merely opinion formed by experience-has no such names to oppose to these. Professor Maurice's recent volume of Cambridge lectures on the 'Conscience,' pleasant, amiable, and readable, was eminently unscientific and unsatisfactory. We are afraid that Mr. Lecky's philosophical opinions will hardly command much respect. We are sorry for this, as it is our own side of the controversy; but the argument is not one to be settled by the authority of names, and we patiently wait till the pendulum of opinion revolves to the other side, and better champions come to the front. We hardly thank Mr. Lecky for his advocacy; and when he brands his opponents as holding a doctrine profoundly immoral, we object to his calling hard names, and to philosophy getting into a passion. The Utilitarian, or the Beneficial school, as they would prefer to be called, do not so much oppose Mr. Lecky's reasonings, as they say that he misrepresents them, and misunderstands them, and is simply ignorant of the nature of the real question involved in the controversy. We may observe, that when the 'Fortnightly Review' finds fault with Mr. Lecky's logic, and the 'Saturday Review' complains of his religion, it would appear, on the first blush of things, that Mr. Lecky's logic and religion are in a bad way; only we recollect the homely adage that tells us-let us not blink the unsavoury proverb-that the pot often calls the kettle black. There is no doubt, however, but Mr. Lecky is not so much a philosopher as an historian-which is a very different thing; and also not so much an historian as a rhetorician-which is also another very different thing.

Mr. Lecky is a complete master of the eloquence of detail; that is to say, he marshals interesting facts in a graphic style and with most ingenious dovetailing, so that he conducts an argument almost entirely by means of illustrations. It must also be said that he is no less voluminous in his facts than fertile in his generalizations. At the same time, one occasionally suspects that Mr. Lecky is striking out a theory as a peg to hang his learning ou. His reading is both extensive and deep, but it runs in particular channels. We fully accept his Latin and his French, but we don't believe in his Greek, and we detect no evidence of German. And when Mr. Lecky is presenting us with a vast body of facts, under an avowed philosophical bias, it is impossible to help reflecting that these facts might be assigned a very different interpretation by those who hold very different opinions.

But working between the dates of Augustus and Charlemagne it is manifest that the subject of morals is as inextricably involved as the subject of religion. Mr. Lecky does much justice-and also much injustice-to Christianity as a system of morality. Mr. Lecky possesses what he considers a philosophic neutrality on the subject of the supernatural claims of Christianity. But he should consider whether such a neutrality is possible for him-whether such a position is not really a hostile position. He might also consider whether, if the facts of Christianity are to be discarded as lying legends, there is indeed any débris of morality left worth discussing. It is not here, however, that we can venture either on the philosophical argument or the religious argument. All the secular journals are pointing out, more or less, the injustice, the confusion of thought, the real or affected ignorance of large domains of inquiry which characterise the chief part of his work. But we suspect that Mr. Lecky's advocacy on one side of the question or the other is not of special importance. The thin and rhetorical nature of his work will probably debar it from any perma

nent place among the productions of real thinkers. The soil is carefully cultivated, but then the soil is thin. No amount of literary manure will make up for this essential defect. There is one more remark which we must make. Mr. Lecky devotes his concluding chapter to the subject to which Juvenal devoted his Sixth Satire. He is, no doubt, as honest and independent as Juvenal; only weak people might bethink themselves of expurgation. Had the chapter stood alone we should have accepted it as an unavoidable necessity of the subject. But to say the truth, Mr. Lecky's language on the relation between the sexes throughout his volumes is, pretty uniformly, unpleasing. It may be a philosophy for philosophers, but, to use a well-worn phrase, it is by no means a work for family reading.

EAST END EMIGRATION.

Now that the spring season is fairly once more upon us, that the woods are free and the waters unbound, that the sphere of out-door energies and activity is indefinitely enlarged, the sons of manual toil open a fresh campaign in the battle of life. The thought of emigration becomes familiar to many minds, and the facts of emigration are reproduced upon a large scale. Many are leaving the soil where they have found the bread taken out of their mouths. A short time ago the British and Colonial Emigration Fund made a considerable grant to Woolwich, and a still larger one to Portsmouth, to enable the men thrown out of work to take advantage of the opportunity afforded by Government to go out to Canada in the transports Crocodile and Serapis. The same society lately sent out their second batch to Queensland, and have sent out two hundred persons to Canada. They now pause in their operations, for their funds are exhausted, and they must wait till they get more money. We confess that it is not without some feelings of sadness, uncertainty, and regret, that we watch the varying phenomena of the modern exodus.

It is sad to be obliged to confess that England is unable to supply the daily work that shall in return supply daily bread to her anxious and industrious children. It is sad that in a country poorly supplied numerically with men in comparison with the other great European states, we should have to part with so much nerve and sinew, so much courage and endurance. The system of giving assisted passages to men who are prepared to defray a large portion of their own expenses must have a real tendency to deprive the country of those who by prudence and foresight have proved their capacity of becoming good citizens at home. Still there is no resisting the iron logic of facts; and if men are obliged by necessity to emigrate, or if they choose to emigrate, we must make it our care that they should do so in the best way and under the most favourable conditions. Emigration is a great natural law; but then it is true of all natural laws that nearly every thing depends upon the mode of their application to our necessities.

To the particular society we have named, the British and Colonial Emigration Fund, we entertain a very kindly feeling. We are assured of the rectitude of their intentions and the excellence of their arrangements. They have done much good. They have largely promoted the emigration of the pauper, and we should be sorry if they more exclusively directed their energies towards emigration among the industrial class. They have insisted that wives and families should, so far as possible, accompany the breadwinner, checking that exclusive emigration of young men that have so drained some districts of the country. They have also been noted for one feature which we could wish they would bring more and more into prominence instead of withdrawing it into the shade-that is, their extension of that limited but most useful form of emigration which consists in sending poor families from parts of the country where work is wanting to other parts where work is plentiful. It has often happened that in different

districts of our island labourers have been waiting for work and work has been waiting for labourers. Men have been almost starving for want of employment at Poplar who possibly might find plenty of it at Newcastle or Glasgow. There may be a plethora of work at one place and an utter deficiency of it in another. There is often a kind of tidal action, a sort of flux and reflux, in matters of business and employment. To this home-emigration, if we may use such an antithetic term, weespecially wish well. A full accurate knowledge and careful manipulation of the labour market might save many an emigrant that now tears asunder, with deep wounds, most strong and tender ties. Much might be done in this way towards equably distributing the supply and demand of labour throughout the country. At least let us not send away our men till we are quite sure that we are not able to keep them. It is a pity that there should be families who cross the Atlantic and the Pacific, when all that is necessary for their subsistence is that they should cross the Humber or the Tweed.

Still, in the case of multitudes of men, it is good for themselves and good for the community at large that they should emigrate. Emigration is the true answer to the hard philosophy of Malthus and the atrocious suggestions of Mr. John Stuart Mill. The Divine law that tells men to increase and multiply also tells them to replenish the earth and subdue it. In spite of the philosophers we shall not think that the injunction is a mistake until the conditions are satisfied and proved to be insufficient. If we cannot keep our poor let them emigrate to that which, in a sense, is still British soil. Our children have not altogether left us who still retain English laws, language, loyalty, and religion. The enormous territories and scanty populations of Australia, Canada, and New Zealand still invite and would receive more than we can send or could spare. It seems likely, owing to the enormous fiscal burdens of America, that the general tide of emigration may rather set in the direction of British colonies than

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of the boundless Western prairies. All African travellers concur in speaking of boundless possibilities in store when the African interior, with its temperate climate and immense fertility, is fairly opened up to us. The national good is vast, but the moral good is vaster still. The rough salutary change of emigration frequently evokes capacities and energies that might otherwise have lain for ever dormant. The men, wavering on the borders of our criminal class, having the plain alternative of working or starving, will clearly elect to work. pauper, whether he has become such through improvidence or by the sheer stress of adversity, will regain self-respect and the enjoyment of solid comforts. The artisan, whose industry and self-denial would only suffice to make slight savings, which illness or scarcity of work would soon dissipate, may rest beneath his freehold roof and plough his own heritable fields. A broad view of imperial interests will show us the necessity of recruiting and strengthening our colonies. No political separation that may be looming in the future can ever abolish the most precious and permanent uses of our empire.

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We have therefore no horror of emigration; but we, at the same time, carnestly desire that it should be accompanied with all necessary safeguards and limitations. often, historically speaking, emigration has been the result of some sudden blind unreasoning impulse, weakening to the parent state and fraught with disaster to the emigrants themselves. Let us be first thoroughly assured that there is no place in the old country for those who would not willingly leave her, and only fly to exile to avoid starvation. A free circulation in the labour market, and the giving of prompt effectual assistance in the transfer of families to distant homespheres of labour, might obviate any danger of draining our resources in men, the most solid material of any country. Let emigration be directed, as much as possible, into those channels which flow into our own colonies. Let there be a constant

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LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.

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