sort of expectation of reaching the clouds; | We have to put forth all our will to adand, if what we do looms larger in other vance not only forwards, but upwards. people's eyes, we often know quite well Every step on an uphill road not only that we are not really putting half as much brings us nearer to the goal, but also relabor into it as we spent upon the scram- quires a victory over the force of gravitabling attempts of earlier years.

tion; so that it is no wonder if our steps On a smaller scale, every one who has are slow. But when we have passed the produced any kind of work of art knows watershed, and begin to tend downwards, what different kinds of effort are required we have only to yield ourselves passively for beginning, carrying on, and finishing to the same force, and we are carried forany design. Most people probably feel ward with but little effort of our own that in the first sketch there is a nameless quickly and more quickly as the path charm which is almost inevitably obscured grows steeper. The involuntariness of as the work advances, to reappear, if all much of our action as life advances is a goes well, in a different form as it draws startling change to those who care to notowards its completion. Here the uphill tice it. Once perhaps it was a daily act of part of the work comes in the middle, self-denial to set to work at all. Later in while the beginning and the end seem life not to work would be the severest of almost to do themselves. Probably few penances. experienced artists would attach much im- The act of engaging in labor may be upportance to their own judgment of the hill work only at the outset of lífe; but value of their work during the familiar the work itself which we do may become uphill stage. Not only in painting, but in ever more and more arduous, if we are not all sustained effort, there is sure to be a content with quantity of effect, but aspire time when the general plan or effect, clear to perfection in quality. Those who are enough at the outset, is lost sight of in the possessed by this ambition will find the labor of working out details before it can whole of their life's journey lying uphill. be restored in its fulness. But in paint. There are for them no level plains on ing this is actually visible to the eye, be- which to settle down to reap the reward of cause, as long as any one part is less com- former toil. For them the shades of even. plete than the rest, there is a real discord ing bring no relaxation of effort. Their of color which the painter must disregard expectations may be less unlimited as time while he steadily pursues the processes goes on, and less of their strength will be required for bringing out the ultimate har. wasted in vain endeavors to grasp at what mony, until, as the long labor draws to its is beyond their reach; but the upward close, every separate touch acquires an strain will not be relaxed; it will only be almost magical power and value as it falls economized, as experience takes the guidinto the place prepared for it by previous ance of their steps. And with the lifetoil and sacrifice. Something of the same long toil of ascent comes the lifelong kind happens in most lives. Youth is full of expansion of horizon; the journey which interest and picturesqueness, like a sketch is all uphill must needs conduct the wayfreshly dashed off by the hand of a master, farer to fresher air and serener solitudes; and age may have all the stately harmony away from the crowd and the smoke, up to of a finished picture; but the intermediate the heights from which what is mean and stage is apt to be blurred and confused trivial falls out of sight, and the sounds of with a multitude of details. Happily the strife are hushed. A freshness more expressure of business generally distracts quisite than the freshness of youth is rethe attention of the artist in life from the served for some of the aged ; but it can inevitable fatness (if we may be permitted be attained only by a path which lies from suddenly to reverse our metaphor) which first to last uphill. attends its middle period. The most Uphill work, both literally and figuraromantic of us have scarcely time to miss tively, means work in two directions at from their own lives at their fullest that once ; literally, it is going forwards while picturesque effect which is often so marked we raise our own weight; figuratively, it is in youth and in old age, and which is to doing things and learning how to do them the fatness of middle age what the hills at the same time; thus listing ourselves on are to the plains.

to a higher platform of moral or intellectuThe slowness with which time passes in al being. There is always in some senses youth is another point which almost forces an ascending slope before us, which we us to think of it as of an uphill road. Re- may scale if we will. But happily it does joice as we may to run the race, we can. not rest with ourselves to decide whether not climb as fast as we shall descend. I the general tenor of our lives shall be that



of laborious ascent or of gentle downward | at eighty-one years of age, is recorded this gliding. The force of gravitation need not week. England has always been the home be always regarded as a type of the de- of political refugees, and some of them praved tendencies of the human heart. have prospered here as they might never There is a time for all things, says the wise have done if left in their own land. The man, and if there is a time for learning, so French immigrants who fled before the is there, happily, a time for forgetting; Edict of Nantes merged themselves almost and also a time for idly applying and at once in the population, and prospered enjoying what we have learned. There so exceedingly that some of their names is a time for scrambling upwards, and are among the best known in the land, and a time for lying on the grass in the valley; peers, millionaires, great bankers, prospera time for climbing fruit-trees, and a time ous men in all ranks of life are proud to for letting the ripe fruit drop into our the last degree that their ancestors ran mouths. Even Christian, who was not the away from France, homeless, moneyless, man to finch from his share of climbing, and almost friendless, as proud almost, found rest and refreshment in the Valley of indeed, as if they had come over as merHumiliation, and it would be a poor view of cenaries, to carve out estates by their cour. life which valued nothing that was not age and their cruelty. There are no walks gained by the sweat of our brow. Let life of life in which the observer does not tend ever so steadily upwards in its moral stumble upon Germans who have adopted and spiritual aspects, and intellectual England as their home, and become so labor be ever so strenuously directed prosperous and so satisfied that they do towards higher and higher levels of attain- not teach their children German, and rement, still there will be in the outward member Germany chiefly because they life pauses from all activity, and welcome have still living relations there. But for and gentle relaxations of effort, when our an Italian Carbonaro under sentence of wisdom is to sit still and receive the riches death to break prison, to land in England which flow into our souls from above. a penniless resugee, to obtain office in a Hard work is no doubt a cure for many great government institution, to become so evils, and the taste for it a most excellent trusted by English aristocrats and statesone to acquire if we can; but not to be men that they were always doing jobs for able to abstain from it for a time, not to him - jobs are jobs, whether beneficial or have any idea of enjoyment without it, is a not- and finally to obtain for thirty years miserable slavery and blindness.

the control of the great English reservoir The most exquisite pleasure which we of the materials of learning, and die at a ever take in the work of our own hands or great age universally honored and regretbrains is probably derived from some ted, — this is, so far as our memory serves rapid achievement wrought without con- us, an unique career. It is at variance scious effort in some direction in which we with much that one thinks of Italians, and have lately been working hard. After all that one believes of Englishmen. That making a series of laborious studies, with an Italian should prove himself the most perhaps little apparent result, we suddenly practical of the practical and hardestfind ourselves rendering an impression, headed of the hard-headed, that he should either in words or in color, with an unstud. fight English officials every day of the ied felicity which has gone far beyond week on their own roped-in ground and in the result of all our former labor, and per- their own way, with minute and report and haps by means of which we can give no evidence before committees, and invariably complete account. Such moments are like beat them, is hardly less surprising than those in which, after a long, steep climb in that English officials, trained to regard an the shadow up the jutting shoulder of a Italian as an effeminate visionary, a formountain, we suddenly turn a corner, and eigner as an interloper, and a Carbonaro find ourselves face to face with the whole as a dangerous fanatic with a possibility of expanse of the western heavens.

an assassin in him, should recognize the man's capacities, and enter into his dreams, and support him, even hotly, against dislike and obloquy and national prejudice.

It was not only Mæcenas, but Agrippa who From The Spectator.

fought for Panizzi, an English Agrippa, SIR A. PANIZZI.

Protestant, insular, and single-tongued. THERE is something, to our minds, curi. Such a career in a prosaic age is at least ously picturesque and separate in the ca- an interesting one, as interesting as the reer of Sir Anthony Panizzi, whose death, fact that this foreigner, who was asked,


when in prosperity, by the Italian execu- possibly ever will exist, and they fight its tioner of Modena to compensate him for battle from decade to decade successfully, the loss he had sustained by pulling down only dreading the men who will believe his scaffold without any fee for its erection, that learning and democracy can go toand who dated his reply from "the King. gether, and that the treasure-house of dom of the Dead," and promised to pay in learning ought not to be a sort of crypt the next world, became a thorough En- where learning accumulates and moulders, glishman, and deserved fully from England but a source whence learning is diffused. the patronage he received. Nor is it the Whenever the Museum is attacked, these less interesting because his success is not people just describe it, just let the nation very difficult to explain. Panizzi owed, of see what sort of treasure-bouse it is, and course, his first step out of his troubles to the national feeling always awakes, just as the personal regard of Mr. Roscoe, and to it awakes to pride in the Bank, or English his friend's influence with Sir Henry Ellis, commerce, or the East London dockyards. and owed his hold over many statesmen, The Museum is immensely great then, adeven Brougham, who cordially liked so few equately great, then it shall go on, whether men, to his own character; but his suc- one quite understands its greatness or not. cess was mainly due to the fact, which he Mr. Panizzi had, from first to last, the full had either discovered or accidentally bit advantage of that feeling. Everybody who upon, that the English, so little of a dreamy understood felt that his ideas were very people, possess in a quite exceptional de large. The conflict about him never took gree business imagination, that they like the form of saying that he was too limited. big plans better than little plans, if only Whenever it became loud enough to attract they are practical plans, and big organiza- attention, it was always found that he tions better than litile organizations, if only was wanting something or other that took they will get along without too much rum men's breath away, — the whole literature ble. That is one of the secrets of Lord of England, every book in the world, the Beaconsfield's success, and it is not till it greatest reading-room on earth, something is discovered that his “big things” as big, and yet as conceivably attainable, never practical things, that he will be thor. as if he had been a Stephenson or a Bruoughly discredited, and it was the secret of nel, or a man of the type which it suits Mr. Panizzi. He planned as Englishmen Englishmen to think is specially national. like to plan, on a scale of twelve inches to It was quite shocking for Mr. Panizzi to the mile. There is no idea in the world want so much, but then the people rather more dreamlike than that of the old Alex liked that kind of shock, and they let him, andrian Museum, the collection in one spot in moderation, have his way. We never of all the materials of human learning, remember Mr. Panizzi thoroughly beaten. with men qualified to use them, but the It is curious that in the only dispute in dreamy idea has been in no slight measure which he displeased the public, it was be. realized in the great building which most cause he seemed to thein, for once, too Englishmen regard mainly as a gigantic small for the work they wanted.

He never box of curiosities. There is hardly a sub- would let them have that printed catalogue ject of human knowledge which cannot be on the scale they wanted it, though he did better studied in the British Museum than give them the catalogue he thought better, anywhere else, or about which some quiet, and they were quite angry. Nonsense little-known man, connected in some way about a book too big to make! Put an with the building, is not, if you can get army of men to it, and let it fill a cathefairly at him, the deepest mine of informa- dral. It was an annual quarrel once, that tion. If you want to dive into any depart. about the catalogue, though it has dropped ment of thought demanding concrete mate. now; and the best-remembered sentence rials for its working out, no matter what, in the discussion is Joseph Hume's solitary whether rare feathers, or Chinese treatises, indulgence in the gigantesque ; his mag. or anything between, the British Museum nificent threat, – that is the curators and is the place, if only you understand it, and the librarian gave him so much trouble, he can hit upon the invisible man who, nine would move for the name, date, and author. times out of ten, be you never so much ship of every book in the British Museum, an expert, can tell you what you did not as an emergent return to the House of know before. The people do not know Commons. The public laughed with enthis, but the men who guide Parliament on joyment at that sally, but if the old econothis' kind of subject, and who are, there. mist had kept his word, and obtained his fore, trusted, do ; they know that nothing order, as he would have done, for he was like the British Museum ever existed, or | dreaded by departments as the fish-insect is by bibliopoles, the public would have would, we fancy, have done as much. He forgiven both his whim and its cost, in ad-would not have been so acceptable to formiration of the scale of the huge concep- eign librarians, or have received quite so tion. It was this liking for big and com- much foreign correspondence, but he would plete work which sustained Panizzi in his probably have been quite as successful eternal fight with the publishers, who once and quite as cosmopolitan. We take it or twice were seriously oppressed, but the real difference between the foreigner were always beaten. The public under- and the Englishman in this matter is this: stood so grand a conception as a demand The Englishman tends to be too much for one copy of every book published in absorbed in England, while the foreigner the United Kingdom, and thought Mr. thinks of the Continent, which is larger and Panizzi, even when demanding a copy, the contains more literatures, than England; surrender of which made the difference but the Englishman, once escaped from between profit and loss, or spending fifty insularity, is the more cosmopolitan of the times its value in costs over some trumpery two. He does not think the world is pamphlet, quite within his duty. The bounded on the north by the Baltic, on the library should be complete, and not com south by the Mediterranean, on the west plete with an exception, and the publishers, by the Irish channel, and on the east by though they often received sympathy, the Vistula. We would trust the Continever got either help or compensation. nental collect everything in every EuroEven the instinctive pity of a British jury pean tongue upon any given subject, but for a British tradesman refused permission should prefer the Englishman to insist on to make out a bill, invariably gave way be a ransacking of Chinese records, or to colfore the feeling that the iradesman was lect Indian manuscripts ante 1200 A.D., or standing in the way of a very big and com- to make a perfect collection of literature plete idea. It was not Mr. Panizzi's idea, from the Western States of the Union. of course ; but he made the law a reality, He would not think he was spending himand the public, though only half compre- self on barbarisms, as the Continental very hending some of his suits, was always often would, or be so attracted by subjects steadily on his side.

merely because they were bizarre. He It used to be said - was, indeed, con would miss fewer of the works of the stantly said -- in Parliament, that Mr. world, though none of the works of the Panizzi made a better librarian than any Continent, and would overlook Biscay and Englishman could have done, because he Malta sooner than Lhassa, and the smaller was a foreigner, because he thought of troubadours sooner than the hymn-recit. countries and subjects which no English. ers of Ceylon. It was a good thing for the man would or could have thought of; and Museum Library that Mr. Panizzi was not we wonder if that was true. We rather English, but that is no reason for enter. incline to doubt it. Mr. Panizzi knew taining a definite preference for a formany languages, and latterly, at all events, eigner. Fewer Englishmen than Contitook the true librarian's interest in filling nentals know many languages, but more up chinks in his collections; but an En-Englishmen than Continentals are interglishman with his knowledge of language, ested in many literatures, and curious and energy, and interest in the subject, about all.

From a private letter we learn that the In- through the great Unsnur Bandh or embankdus Valley State Railway, recently opened for ment, and flooded the whole country as far as traffic, is in good working order. This line Jacobabad, sweeping away seven miles of the runs up the river from Kotri to Multan, thus railway. At the present time trains are runconnecting the two remote links of the Scinde, ning over a temporary loop-line. The State Delhi and Punjaub Railway, which is the Railway is now being worked by government property of a guaranteed company. The In- officials, but we believe that it is ultimately dus is crossed by a steam ferry between the intended to place it under the management of towns of Sakhar and Rori, and the Satlaj by a the guaranteed company, whose steam flotilla magnificent irun-girder bridge near Bahawal- it has superseded. The importance of this pur. From Kolri upwards to Sehwan the line new line, which has been completed about of rail runs along the foot of the Laki Hills, twelve months before the contract time, may and is thus protected from inundation though be estimated from the fact that Sakhar forms it closely follows the course of the river. But the base of operations for the military force the .section from Sehwan to Sakhar must al- now engaged beyond the Bolan Pass. ways be exposed to danger. Only last autumn

Academy. the Indus in one of its wayward moods burst

Fifth Serios, Volume XXVI.


No. 1822.- May 17, 1879.

From Beginning,

Vol. CXLI.

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Part IV.,

Advance Sheets,

Nineteenth Century, IV. JEROME BONGRAND'S HERESY. A Tale about Priests,

Cornhill Magazine,

Fortnightly Review,

Saturday Review,


Hatters' Gazette,

Nineteenth Century,

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