From The Saturday Review. TEMPORARY DUTY. At this time of year, when members of Parliament seek refreshment and repose amongst the heather or by the side of a salmon river, whilst fashionable doctors and successful lawyers cool themselves in Alpine valleys, the greater number of our hardworking clergy are obliged to be content if they can manage to exchange one sphere of labor for another. For those who have many children it is difficult to obtain even this half-holiday. They need not answer advertisements in which seabathing, picturesque scenery, or a steam launch is offered. They must resign all hope of "the moderate use of a pony carriage" or the enjoyment of living in a pretty house. These advantages are reserved for the fortunate few who can describe themselves as "without encumbrance." The lot of a poor man, rich in the possession of a dozen or more children, is not likely to fall in pleasant places. If he can afford to move at all, he will probably be obliged to accept the charge of some uninteresting, unhealthy, or secluded parish which has been declined by perhaps less worthy men. The area from which he can choose is small, because he cannot afford much money for travelling expenses, and it is still further restricted by the necessity of finding sufficient accommodation for his patriarchal household. But a married clergyman without children, if he has some standing in his own diocese, or if he has acquired a literary reputation, however limited or undeserved, will find his only difficulty in selecting from the number of pleasant parishes placed at his disposal. To those who like extending their knowledge of places and people there is often considerable enjoyment to be taken out of "locum tenancy." To a novelist, in some cases, the position would be invaluable. Many are the curious peeps at life to be had from the vicarage windows. Many a tragedy may be watched through more than one act during the month's sojourn in a country village. A startling revelation is often made to the sympathetic parson simply because he is a stranger. He does not know too much of the collateral features of the story, and it is so much the more easy to consult him upon a difficult question of duty, and to him is revealed the skeleton which has slumbered in the cupboard during the reign of the real vicar. And there is something, too, of comedy in occupying that personage's place, stepping straight into his shoes, fulfilling his duties, though he is utterly unknown, wearing his surplice, being attended by his servants, and fol lowed by his dog. It is not without interest to take up the threads which another has been weaving, to keep them smooth if they are found so, or to try to disentangle the knots if matters have gone wrong in the parish. It is often possible for a judicious man to clear up misunderstandings and heal wounds which have long been open. It is also, of course, quite possible to set a whole parish by the ears before the end of a week, and to leave the unfortunate incumbent a legacy of lawsuits, quarrels, and disputes that will make him afraid ever to take another holiday. It is very amusing sometimes to watch the perplexities of a Broad Churchman who by some train of events has chanced to become locum tenens for an extreme Evangelical. His sense of decorum makes him anxious not to contradict the teaching of the man whose place he had undertaken to fill for a few weeks; yet he chafes inwardly at the idea of seeming to conceal his own opinions. The old sermons he has intended to preach have become useless, unless he happily discovers that by peppering his manuscript plentifully with texts, without much regard to their suitability, and by carefully winnowing out every sentence in which there is a suspicion of common sense, he may reach the level to which his hearers are accustomed. He is very careful when visiting the sick poor to throw no doubts upon the personality of the devil, and not to question the probability of their all going to perdition and deserving it. He studiously ignores the village cricket-club, though he may long to improve the boys' round-hand bowling. He is even careful to avoid discussions on religion or politics at dinnerparties; but he will be clever indeed if he succeeds in steering clear of all rocks of offence. He may fail when a neighboring clergyman announces his devotion to snipe-shooting, and in an unguarded moment he fancies he has found a muscular Christian at least. Or his presence of mind breaks down and he lets fall the sheep's clothing in which he has hitherto protected himself, when the squire would administer too strong a dose of Toryism. A Broad Churchman, however, is better able to adapt himself to_circumstances than a High Churchman. The exact angle of his eastward position, the note of his monotone, the cut of his whisker, may be the cause of deep misgiving in the congre gation. He may insert a redundant collect after the sermon, omit to turn his back on | allured to the north by the promise that, if the people at every convenient opportu- he can assist on Sunday, he may be "free nity, and may have lax views on Gregori- to visit the Lakes, the Isle of Man, or Ireans and the confessional. All such things land, during the week; or he is informed are of deep importance in a country par- that "Rokeby, High Force, and Cauldron ish, and the absent incumbent receives Snout are in the immediate neighborhood," letters, often anonymous, as to his substi- and that "five or six hours at Windermere tute's enormities. Clergymen who take or Ullswater are practicable daily." Of duty in the country every summer come another charming place he may hear even by degrees to know as many different or- more: "A beautiful neighborhood, six ders of divine service as there are days in miles from the sea, on the banks of the the week, and as many "uses as there Camel. Anglican views." Mere curioswere before the Act of Uniformity. Bands ity to know how Anglican views appear on and black gowns linger in some places. Camel's banks must secure hundreds of There are diversities of administration of replies for such an advertisement. Somematrimony. Strange local hymn-books times the intended tenant advertises himare found in use, and customs of bell-ring- self. One clergyman "would be happy to ing and organ-playing are kept up. officiate for accommodations for three weeks in a pleasurable locality," and he asserts of his two children of twelve and ten that their "careful conduct could, under all conditions, be safely guaranteed." There is something very rash in this promise. Children of twelve and ten must be greatly above the average in carefulness if the fondest parent can guarantee their breaking no windows and eating no unripe fruit; unless indeed he purpose keeping them in respirators and handcuffs, or under chloroform, during their visit. Those clergymen who have no such encumbrances are anxious to state the fact, as a greater advantage than even ability to intone, or "medium opinions." Some also think it worth while to say that they "can preach," and nearly all consider a pony carriage indispensable. Now and then the advertiser restricts himself in the length of his notice. "M. A. Oxon." an Perhaps the most trying position for the locum tenens is where the parson's wife and family remain in the parish, and he becomes their guest. Then indeed he feels himself obliged to order his goings circumspectly. He gives offence equally if he is too stiff or too playful. What he would prefer to treat as a holiday is sober earnest to them. He must not wear any but a white tie in the parish, nor lie full length on the lawn in the sun, nor flirt with the parson's pretty daughter, nor jump the churchyard fence, nor play lawn tennis on Saturday. He has to fight over again at the dinner-table all the controversies which he has been so unwise as to start in his sermons, and to give many reasons for every expression of the faith that is in him. This ordeal is gone through at intervals all the week; the opinions of the parishioners, especially of the old women, are quoted for his benefit, and he had bet-nounces briefly that he is "single, moderter have resigned at once than have hinted in an unguarded moment at doubts as to the authenticity of a Greek téxt. The children, if there are any, treat him as a superior kind of tutor, or an inferior curate, and the chances are that one of them tells him that mamma has declared him of questionable orthodoxy, and that papa in his letters habitually refers to him as the hireling. It is not easy to choose among the advertisements with which at certain seasons the Church papers teem. Sometimes a clergyman announces that he "will receive as a guest during September a gentleman in priest's orders, who, in return, will assist in the Sunday services; " the word "gentleman" being printed in capitals. Sometimes greater inducements are held forth in the shape of shooting, or, more frequently, fishing. Of a picturesque neighborhood the most is made, and a clergyman is ate, free," adding the word "temporary," which must be taken to refer rather to the kind of engagement he needs than to the evanescent nature of singleness, moderation, or freedom. When the place is at last decided upon there is a period of anxiety until it has been fully tried, and many are the tragic experiences of the annual locum tenens. At one place he may find himself tied to a house overrun with wild animals all eager for a taste of the newcomer, and may have to make his first appearance among the congregation with eyes and forehead swelled and red from the combats of the night. Or the incumbent may have locked up the library, and not a book is to be found except an almanac five years old. Or the fruit in the orchard has all been pulled green and boiled down, and the garden thoroughly exhausted. The horse has been turned out to grass, and the cows are all dry. And now, I am wondering how Mr. J. and you can see any " "" answer in those two poems of T.'s to any thing Mr. Atkinson and I have said. Who has ever said that men are only brain? Does any one say that an orange grove, is only carbon, silica, etc.; or the nightingale only a chemical and mechanical compound, - passing over the product or result, making no mention of the fragrance and the music? If any one did say so, and could establish it, would he not be elevating the chemical and mechanical elements and forces, and not lowering the blossom and the bird? There they are! - beyond his power to disparage. And so, 66 we are what we are, But such experiences are not common, | I am not glad to know it; still less, that I and they matter the less because the feel- am not as much obliged to you for making ing on the part of the parishioners is one me read it as if I had liked it ever so of hospitality and welcome. The locum much. tenens is the guest of the whole parish. If he has come from London, he is looked upon with an extra allowance of the pity which country folks always bestow on town folk. He is forced to make new acquaintances such as he might never meet at home, and friendships for life sometimes ensue. He may in rare cases be able to fan into a flame the spark of genius in some local poet or painter, and may come upon talent in other ways where he least expects it. He obtains bird's-eye views of a social situation previously quite unknown to him, and has opportunities of extending and improving his knowledge of human nature. And, if he is the object of much kindness, he may also be the cause of a little scheming. The churchwardens will perhaps take advantage of his presence to get their own way on some point of procedure in which they have long differed with the vicar. From The Athenæum. A LETTER OF MISS MARTINEAU'S. We are enabled by the courtesy of the person to whom it was addressed to publish the following letter of Miss Marti neau: Dear Mr. The Knoll, Ambleside, October 5. Your packet and I arrived here almost together. I must beg of you to thank Mr. very heartily for me for the wonderful pleasure he has sent me in this little volume. Like most other people (whom I have met with, at least), I shrank from a whole volume of published griefs; and the more, because I knew Arthur Hallam; and, like every body that has read it, I forego my objection (which I still think natural) during the reading. I began to cut and read last night; and I stopped at last, by a virtuous effort, from the feeling that I ought not to be able to take in so much at once that I ought to spread it out, though, happily, I have the volume to refer to at all times. I cannot honestly say that I had any thing like so much pleasure from "The Princess." There are bits of wisdom and of beauty, many; but the impression of the whole is more than odd to my feeling. however we came to be," as I said in that book. "Science" is very far from pretending to say that men are "magnetic mockeries," or any sort of mockeries; but the most real of all things that men can have cognizance of; and therefore, proper subjects of science. Science goes to show us that there is far more in man than Tennyson or any one. else has ever dreamed of; and the one very thing that science most strenuously and constantly insists on is that we do not, and cannot, know any thing whatever of essence, but only of attributes or qualities, say phenomena. As for the other poem, we should scarcely object to any part of it, and eagerly agree with most of it. You know, we think it nonsense, -a mere jingle of words to profess to disbelieve in a First Cause. It is an inseparable, tial part of human thought and feeling to suppose a First Cause. (See our book, pp. 240, 342.) It is only when men presume to say what are the attributes or qualities, an essen making it out a magnified human being (which Xenophanes so well saw our tendency to do), that we decline to abet such hardihood, and to attach our awe and revence to an idol. As for our making Bacon a "blackguard" (your word, you know), the question is one of fact, always remembering that the avowal of convictions on speculative subjects is not the same virtue in all times. I do not admit the "blackguardism" of Moses, for instance, but rather regard his avowal of so much as he did declare as worthy of reverent admiration. Bacon was awfully faulty in that matter; but, as you well know, far more criminal in others;- -a thorough it is very disagreeable," blackguard as chancellor, - if timid It does not follow that and cunning as a philosopher. But you they are able to do so with us. There is nothing but the sheer dishonesty (of which I am sorry to say there is a terrible deal) that afflicts us at all. I am much obliged for all you have done and promised about Co-operative matters. My finishing the History with such a summary depends upon Mr. Knight, and will he engaged me to do it; but he is so impressible and variable, that there is no saying when and how it may be, nor whether at all. I can't make out, to this hour, whether he means to give us the new Cyclopedia or not; though I worked hard to get him ten subscribers, nearly two years ago. But I think he will finally authorize my doing what I told you. At all events, hope your and Mr. -'s pains will not be wasted. Our field prospers. Every lot is sold; and all were paid for in one day-to the last shilling. The money is in the Bank; and I am thinking how to get up baths and a Reading-room with it. The roofs are on the two cottages now nearly finished; and very nice houses they are. I find my ground will admit of two, and I have been asking - whether I may not venture on a second. I have lost (you can satisfy yourself about this, which is better than taking any body's word for it. Study him well, -ascertaining his bearings, and not forgetting to look into the dates of his various writings, and see how the matter is: and don't blame us for Bacon's weaknesses: nor yet judge him by the circumstances of your and my station and time. (For that matter, how-to the last minute. When I last saw him, ever, do you know no very good people who sanction what they believe to be untrue, for other folks' good, yet more than their own peace and quiet?)- As for your question about the grounds of our aspiration after self-sacrifice, etc., our ground is much the same as yours, I should think. If you were asked why you obey the will of God, you would say that it is because your nature impels you so to do;-be-I cause you feel it to be best; - because you long, and yearn, and love so to do. So we, -if asked why we prefer health to sickness, peace to turmoil of mind, benevolence to self-indulgence, -reply simply that we do. Our moral, like our physical faculties, indicate health and happiness as our natural action: and, as we incline to temperance as the rule of health, we naturally aspire to a life of self-sacrifice, or, say rather, of active good-will, because it is inexpressibly desirable in our eyes. This is one ground. But I think it is a higher, and therefore more natural, state (when simply living, and not arguing) not to think about the matter expressly at all, but simply to give way to our love of our neighbor, and act from it, without reviewing any "grounds." As for the reviewers- they have been more fraudulent (in misquotations and the like) than I had supposed possible; but that is their affair, and not ours. As for their wrath - we must bear in mind that most of them are divines, doctors, or somehow concerned in metaphysics; and that we have attacked the very staple of their thoughts and lives. Thus, great allowance is to be made for them, and they really cannot do us justice. We do not see that any one of them has touched any one point of our book; and they answer one another so effectually as to save us the trouble of doing it. We have brought a great deal of censure on ourselves through the form of our book, its mere epistolary form, and its stopping short in the middle. Some day we shall probably give out our views in a more complete and orderly way. Meantime, we have the pleasure of some hearty sympathy; and, where we are most abused, it is a true satisfaction to sympathize the more with our enemies, the less kindly inquire, you know) some of my potatoes this year, and nearly all my turnips, from the absence of frost last winter. All else is flourishing, and beautiful beyond description. I come home, with work for two years on my hands, -in full health, after a capital holiday with my family, and with not a care in the world. Now I think I have answered all your questions. And what a quantity I have given you to read! Believe me truly your obliged H. MARTINEAU. I have Austin's "Jurispru O yes, dence From The Academy. THE NATIVE RACES OF THE PACIFIC STATES OF NORTH AMERICA.* MR. BANCROFT has successfully carried through his great undertaking, and anthropologists are already finding the advantage of having on their shelves a compressed library of reference for the interIt would not be useful to summarize here esting Pacific region of North America. America. in two or three columns a work which is itself a summary (in five volumes of about eight hundred pages each) of all that several hundred authors have recorded as to the pre-European inhabitants of this vast district. The reviewer's task of giving a notion of this literary museum may be best accomplished by calling attention to a few salient points, especially in the last four volumes. Most of the available information is here to be found as to that curious problem of American ethnology, the connection between the nations of Mexico and those of Central America. Uxmal, Palenque, Copan, and other Central-American cities whose ruins still remain among the wonders of barbaric architecture, were built by the Maya-Quiché peoples, and the evidence is conclusive that these had derived more or less of their civilization from the nations of Mexico, the Aztecs or kindred peoples. The Aztec astronomical calendar with its cycles of zodiac-like signs combined with numbers to mark out years and days, its 13-day and 20-day periods, and its solar years of 360 days made up to 365 by the intercalation of five "empty days," is at once one of the clumsiest and most characteristic chronological systems in the world, and it reappears with but superficial changes in Central America. There seems distinct connection in the religious systems of the two districts. For example, the characteristic Mexican mode of human sacrifice, by cutting open the victim's breast and tearing out the heart to offer to the god, reappears in Central America with its accompanying cannibal feast; the rite of penance by drawing blood with thorns from different parts of the body was also common to the two districts (vol. ii., pp. 688-9). In thorough harmony with these facts is a curious feature of CentraiAmerican legend. Readers of Prescott's "Mexico" are familiar with the picturesque figure of the white and bearded divine ascetic, reformer, high-priest, and king, who bore the name of Quetzalcoatl, or Feather-Snake. Now, this religious reformer appears also in the traditions of Central America, his names there being of equivalent meaning, Cukulcan or Gucumatz (vol. ii., pp. 693, 699, 717; vol. iii., p. 45, etc.). Without going farther into the argument, it is certainly a great step towards understanding the history of North America before the conquest, to be able with a certain confidence to consider as historically allied the two groups of nations most remarkable for the height to which they had raised a barbaric civilization. Mr. Bancroft's fourth volume is in great part devoted to the antiquarian relics, especially ruins of temples and palaces, in Mexico and Central America, with other remarkable architectural remains, especially the walled forts and towns known as the Casas Grandes of north Mexico, and beyond these again the immense earthworks of the western United States, raised by the mysterious people known as the mound-builders. Is there, one may well ask, any historical link between the builders of these rude but remarkable structures and the nations of Old Mexico and Yucatan? Did the ancestors of the Aztecs migrate, as is sometimes thought, across the continent from the north-west, leaving these ruder ruins as tokens of their barbarism before they rose to higher civilization on the plateaus and amid the forests farther south? In this volume, though the sketches of ruins from each district are not so many and complete as in separate works of Prescott, Humboldt, Bartlett, Squier, etc., etc., yet we have specimens of each kind before us, and can form our own judgment. That of most readers will be that the evidence of connection does not come to much. The earth-mounds and camps of the Western and Southern States (vol. iv., p. 751, etc.) are not so like the mounds and camps of Mexico as to prove anything. strong-walled house-forts of sun-dried bricks, or of masonry in the New Mexico district (p. 604, etc.), do not resemble the usual architecture either of the moundbuilders, the Mexicans, or the Central Americans. It is of course possible that closer study of the ruined works may show more correspondences between them, but in the mean time there seems little evidence for connecting the nations of Mexico with the north-west, beyond Buschmann's well-known proof from the occurrence of Mexican words in the language of Sonora, etc. Even here who can say whether these words were left by Aztecs migrating down the continent, or on the contrary were carried out from Mexico and left among the outer barbarians? The Turning from these specially American enquiries, let us glance at some points which throw light on human ways generally. Among the customs noted by our author there are a few of marked peculiarity. It is by no means usual in the world to find a squint admired as a beauty; but it appears that in Yucatan mothers |