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distasteful, to his constant and liberal nature. He had a disinterested hatred of expense, and of pretension, and, though very generous, and quite indifferent to gain, he was habitually frugal, and respected frugality in others, as the guardian of many virtues.

One regret mingled with the deep thankfulness with which this comparative freedom from pain and care was regarded by those who loved him:-he showed no inclination to devote these years of improved health and tranquil leisure to the work he had so long ago projected. But even this regret, poignant as it was, gradually subsided under the tranquillizing influence of his serene contentment. It is no wonder that the person most sensible of the immense resources and powers of his mind, and most deeply interested in seeing them appreciated, could not resolve to urge him to return to longdisused labours. Suffering, from ill-health and from other causes, had pursued him, almost without intermission, throughout the early and middle part of his life; and now that he had found comparative ease of body and mind, fame, or even usefulness (so long and ardently coveted for him), faded into nothing, compared to these inestimable blessings. The calm evening that followed on so cloudy and stormy a day, was too precious to be risked for the reputation to which he was so indifferent, or for the advantage of a world to which he owed so little.

But his generous solicitude for his country did what nothing else could, and his last effort was prompted by benevolence and patriotism.

He was, in his solitude, a deeply interested observer of political events. He viewed with great anxiety and disapprobation the various schemes of parliamentary reform brought forward during the later years of his life, and felt deeply the severe blow they gave to the respect he wished to feel for eminent public men.

Profoundly convinced as he was of the scarcity of great ability, and of the still greater scarcity of a disinterested love of truth, it may easily be imagined that he regarded with a sort of horror all schemes for placing the business of legislation in the hands of large bodies of men. He had followed step by step the progress of the great minds by which systems of law had been, through ages, slowly and painfully elaborated; and the project of submitting these highest products of the human intellect, or the difficult pro-. blems they deal with, to the judgment and the handling of

uneducated masses, seemed to him a return towards barbarism. He, least of all men, was likely to be dazzled or attracted by wealth or rank; but he valued them on public grounds, as providing for their possessors the highest sort of education, and the leisure and opportunity to apply that education to the general culture of the human mind,--especially to the difficult sciences of legislation and government. The idea of popular legislation was to him as alarming as it was absurd; and it was precisely on account of the disastrous consequences which he was certain must result from it to the people themselves, that he felt indignant at the uses made of their ignorance, and the unmanly affectation of deference to their wishes, by those whose duty it is to enlighten and guide them. Long and accurate observation of other countries, and intercourse with their public men, had taught him the full value of the institutions of this country, and the importance of the habit of obedience to law; and he was too ardent and sincere a patriot to see these imperilled without the deepest emotion. The work of Lord Grey, which appeared in the midst of the discussions on reform, excited his warm and respectful admiration; and when it was suggested to him that he should review it, he immediately consented. The pamphlet published under the title of A Plea for the Constitution,' was originally written for a quarterly journal; but being thought unsuitable, it was published separately. Its success far exceeded his very modest expectations, and gave him the satisfaction of thinking that he had contributed something to the defeat of pernicious projects. This was the only reward he desired.

From the time that he abandoned the struggle with the world to which he was at once so unequal and so superior, all the bitterness excited in him by the chilling indifference with which his noble and disinterested efforts had been received, subsided. His estimate of men was low, and his solicitude for their approbation was consequently small. But while he kept aloof from them, his sympathy with their sufferings, and his anxiety for their improvement never abated. For himself, he coveted nothing they had to give; and he awaited the judgment of another tribunal with humility, but with a serenity which became more perfect in proportion as the time for his appearing before it drew nigh.

If elevation above all the low desires and poor ambitions which chain the soul to earth, if a life untainted by a single unjust or ungenerous action or thought, a single concession

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to worldly or selfish objects, a single attempt to stifle or to disguise truth, could justify a serene anticipation of the world into which none of these things can enter, he might be permitted to feel it.

Having, as I hope, made intelligible to that portion of the public, capable of sympathy with a character like Mr. Austin's, what were the causes which disabled him—or disinclined him from entering afresh on the labour of re-constructing and greatly enlarging his book, and of knitting up all the threads which years and events, care and sickness, had tangled or broken, it only remains for me to say what are the materials he has left; what the motives that have induced me to give them to the world; and how it is that I have found myself in a manner compelled to undertake the arrangement of them for the press.

I have sometimes doubted whether it was consistent with my obedience to him to publish what he had refused to publish. I have questioned myself strictly, whether, in devoting the rest of my life to an occupation which seems in some degree to continue my intercourse with him, I was not rather indulging myself than fulfilling my duty to him. There have been times, too, when, in the bitterness of my heart, I have determined that I would bury with me every vestige of his disinterested and unregarded labours for the good of mankind. But calmer thoughts have led me to the conclusion, that I ought not to suffer the fruit of so much toil and of so great a mind to perish; that what his own severe and fastidious judgment rejected as imperfect, has a substantial value which no defect of form or arrangement can destroy; and that the benefits which he would have conferred on his country and on mankind, may yet flow through devious and indirect channels. I persuade myself that if his noble and benevolent spirit can receive pleasure from anything done on earth, it is from the knowledge that his labours are of use to those who, under happier auspices, pursue the inquiry into subjects of such paramount importance to human happiness.

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Having thus come to the conclusion that some of the manuscripts he left ought to be given to the public, the next question was,-in what form, and by whom? My first thought was to look about for an editor, to whom I might confide the redaction of the whole; leaving to him entire

discretion as to the matter and form of the publication. But it did not appear that any such person could be found, or was likely to be found. A great portion of the manuscript was in so imperfect and fragmentary a state, that it was clear that the whole must be recast and rewritten by any editor who aspired to produce a readable book, from which he could derive reputation or profit. I was alarmed at the thought of the changes the work might undergo in this process. It was to be feared that any editor who had not the self-forgetting devotion of a Dumont, would be more sensible of his responsibility towards the public than of that towards his author. There are great peculiarities in Mr. Austin's style-not one of which was adopted without mature thought. He never had the slightest idea of rendering his subject popular or easy. He demanded from his hearers or readers the full force of their attention; and as he knew how lax and flitting the attention of most men is apt to be, he adopted every expedient for fixing or recalling it. He shrank from no repetitions that he thought necessary to keep a subject steadily and distinctly before the mind, and he availed himself of all typographical helps for the same purpose. Knowing this, I have disregarded the advice of some of those to whom I am most bound, and most disposed, to defer, in retaining the numerous italics with which his book is, in their opinion, deformed. Future editors may, if they will, remove this eyesore. They will not be bound by the deference which must govern me.

It will not be supposed that I think it necessary to call in any testimony to the value of the materials I have to produce. But those whose estimate of them is the highest, may very justly think they ought to have been put into more competent hands. This was my own opinion; and it was not without much anxious deliberation, or without consulting those of Mr. Austin's friends upon whose judgment and solicitude for his fame he would, I knew, have had the greatest reliance, that I determined on the course I have pursued. The opinion and the advice which I received from all was essentially the same;-that all the Lectures should be published, 'with only such revision as may remove needless repetitions;' and that, considering the confused and fragmentary state of much of the manuscript, the safest editor would be the person most deeply interested in the author's reputation, and most likely to bestow patient and reverential care on every relic left by him.

I need not repeat the terms in which Mr. Austin's friends encouraged me to undertake the task of putting these precious materials in order, nor the offers of advice and assistance which determined me to venture upon it. One of them, who spoke with the authority of a lifelong friendship, said, after looking over a mass of detached and half-legible papers, 'It will be a great and difficult labour; but if you do not do it, it will never be done.' This decided me.

I have gathered some courage from the thought that forty years of the most intimate communion could not have left me entirely without the means of following trains of thought which constantly occupied the mind whence my own drew light and truth, as from a living fountain; of guessing at half-expressed meanings, or of deciphering words illegible to others. During all these years he had condescended to accept such small assistance as I could render; and even to read and talk to me on the subjects which engrossed his mind, and which were, for that reason, profoundly interesting to me.

Having determined on the course to be pursued, the first thing to be done was obviously to republish the volume already in print, which has been long and eagerly demanded. The Author's Preface explains the matter of which this volume consists, and his purpose in publishing it. I have altered nothing, except the position of the Outline, which is now placed at the beginning, instead of at the end of the book. I have inserted all the scattered memoranda I have been able to find, relating to alterations and additions which he meditated. Some of them are taken from a small paper marked 'Inserenda.' All these things are manifestly mere suggestions for his own use,-indications of matter which he intended to introduce or to work out. They are inserted, chiefly as proofs of the thought he had given to a more ample exposition of jurisprudence and the allied sciences; but also, not without a hope that some of them may serve as landmarks for the guidance of future explorers of the way he intended to follow.

The volume now3 republished includes the first ten of the Lectures read at the London University; which, though divided into that number for delivery, were (to use the author's expression) in obedience to the affinity of the topics,' reduced by him to six.

There remain, unprinted, all the rest of the Lectures

Viz. 1861. See note, p. 1, and Advertisement to this edition.

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