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of prey, and were so called boucaniers, or what you will . . . I am much pleased to hear of the success of the song, 'Oh! that we two were Maying.' But I take no share of the credit. Words are nought without music and singing. . . . I have not been at a concert this ten years seldom in London, and then always over-busy, and getting 'no amusement' there. My amusement is green fields and clear trout streams, and the gallop through the winter fir-woods; and perhaps this free healthy life makes my little lark's pipe all the fresher and clearer when it tries a song."
His youngest son, Grenville Arthur, for whom, in course of time, The Water-Babies" and "Madam How" were written, was born this spring, and named after his godfather, Dean Stanley, and Sir Richard Grenville, one of the heroes of "Westward Ho!" from whom Mrs. Kingsley's family claimed descent.
A few days' fishing at Newbury produced the "Chalk Streams Studies" (Prose Idylls) and in the summer a new novel was projected,1 on the Pilgrimage of Grace, which made it necessary for him to go into Yorkshire for a week to identify places and names. From the house of his kind friend, Mr. W. E. Forster, he writes:
TO HIS WIFE. WHARFSIDE, July, 1858.-"At a most delicious place, and enjoying good society and a good library. . . . Tell the children I have just seen oh! I don't know what I hav' n't seen -the largest waterwheel in England, making light summer overcoats for the Yankees and Germans. I am in a state of bewilderment such machinery as no tongue can describe, about three acres of mills and a whole village of people,
1 It was only roughly sketched out; but the press of other work prevented his taking it up seriously. (M. K.)
looking healthy, rosy, and happy; such a charming halftime school for the children, library for the men, &c. Tell R. I saw the wool as it came off the sheep's back in Leicestershire, followed it till it was turned into an 'alpaca' coat, and I don't care to see conjuring or magic after that. The country is glorious.
"We had a delightful day at Bolton yesterday, and saw the Abbey. Tell R. I jumped over the Strid where young Romilly was drowned. Make her learn Wordsworth's ballad on it, 'What is Good for a Bootless Bene?' We go off to-morrow for a walking excursion into the High Craven. This is the most noble and beautiful of counties. I have got such flowers!"
"All that I have heard of the grandeur of Godale Scar and Malham Cove was, I found, not exaggerated. The awful cliff filling up the valley with a sheer cross wall of 280 feet, and from beneath a black lip at the foot, the whole river Air coming up, clear as crystal, from unknown abysses. Its real source is, I suppose, in the great lake above, Malham Tarn, on which I am going to-morrow. Last night we went up Ingleborough, 2380, and saw the whole world to the west, the lake mountains, and the western sea beyond Lancaster and Morecambe Bay for miles. The people are the finest I ever saw tall, noble, laconic, often very handsome. Very musical too, the women with the sweetest voices in speech which I have ever heard. . . . Thanks for the dear letters. What you say about subjectivity being so delicious is so womanly; you ought to feel that, and I perhaps ought to feel, as I do, the value of the outward world; and so you can help me, and I you, and both together make one humanity. . . . I long to be back. I feel restless and reckless away from home, and all the more because I have no time for subjectivity.' My days are spent in taking in facts, and plenty of them I have got. The book grows on me. I see my way now as clear as day.
How I will write when I get home. Love to R., M., and Baby."
To MR. C. K. PAUL. · "Will you thank Mrs. most heartily for all she has found out for me. But let her understand if it be any comfort to her — that I shall in this book do the northern Catholics ample justice; that Robert and Christopher Aske, both good Romanists, are my heroes, and Robert the Rebel my special hero. I can't withdraw what I said in 'Westward Ho!' because it is true. Romanism under the Jesuits became a different thing from what it had been before. Of course Mrs. * * * does not know that, and why should she? But I fear she will be as angry as ever, though really she is most merciful and liberal, at my treatment of the monks. I love the old Catholic Laity I did full justice to their behavior at the Armada juncture; but I know too much of those shavelings, and the worst is, I know, as Wolsey knew, and every one knew, things one dare n't tell the world, much less a woman. So judgment must go by default, as I cannot plead, for decency's sake. Still, tell her that had I been born and bred a Yorkshire Catholic, I should probably unless I had been a coward - have fought the last drop at Robert Aske's side. But this philosophy only gives one a habit of feeling for every one, without feeling with them, and I can now love Robert Aske, though I think him as wrong as man can be, who is a good man and true."
To J. BULLAR, Esq.-"If I believed what you say, about not setting up our reason as the test by which we will try God's government of the world,' I should be much frightened; for I should find myself beginning to disbelieve in the Bible and in Christianity. I don't want to set up my private reasoning, or to say, nothing is
true but what I can find arguments for― No man less. I cannot even study physical science without finding insoluble puzzles at every step. But by Reason (in the highest sense), by that moral sense common to all men, I must try God's dealings, because -I. I cannot otherwise love, or trust God, or even imagine to myself His goodness. 2. Because He bids me do so, in the Bible more and more as the Gospel develops, and in the New Testament appeals entirely by Christ to that moral sense in man. The doctrine of Christ and His apostles is, that man is made in God's likeness, and that therefore man's goodness, justice, love, are patterns of God's, and mirrors in which he may see what his heavenly Father is like. The doctrine of Christ and His apostles is, that Christ's incarnation proves this. That Christ manifested the Father, and showed to men the exact likeness of God's character, not by being a good angel, or good anything else, save a good man. And, therefore, when you impute to God feelings or acts which would be inhuman in any and every sense in you or me, you deny the meaning of our Lord's incarnation.
"I know the Calvinists do not hold this, any more than the Papists. And I know that they have great excuses for the belief, great excuses for taking shelter (as you seem inclined to do, as I long to do and dare not) behind what Fourier calls les voiles d'airain, and making the truth that God's 'ways are not as our ways' an excuse for imputing to God ways of which we should be ashamed. But I know, too, that this doctrine has deeply immoral consequences. That it has emboldened men who really wished to be good themselves, to impute to God pride, and vanity, selfishness, obstinacy, spite, cruelty, deceitfulness. The God of Calvin, the God in whom Augustine learnt to believe in his old age, is a being who inspires me with no love with anything but love. If I discovered that He were indeed ruler of this world,
and of mankind, then I should hope-I dare not trust that I should have faith enough in the everlasting right to prophesy, with Prometheus on his rock, the downfall of the unjust Zeus.
"I have staked all my belief on this, Bullar. If I have to give it up, I must begin to reconsider every phenomena in man, heaven, and earth; and the only escape which I as yet foresee would be into the Ahriman and Ormuzd creed of the old Zend-a-vesta. I know well that God's ways are not as our ways, or any man's; but how? Because, I believe and trust, God fulfils the very ideal which I know I ought to fulfil, and do not. What use in my trying to give up my own ways, and go to God's ways, if God's ways be ways I cannot go, and more, ought not to go, and should be wicked if I were like God? Strange paradox!
"The God and the Christ whom the Bible reveal to me, I love, I glory in. I am jealous for their honor, and though I obey them not, yet I can bear to love the thought that they are right, though I be wrong; they beautiful and noble, though I be ugly and mean, and therefore I am jealous for them. Any fact which seems to reflect on their honor, tortures me.
TO SIR WILLIAM COPE
EVERSLEY RECTORY: December 19, 1858.. not find, by index, the passage which your friend quotes from St. Augustine, Sermones ad Fratres in Eremo,' the 37th, &c., &c. But I do find, as I thought I should, the curious and valuable chapter ('De Civitate Dei,' Lib. XVI., Cap. 8) in which he discusses the question of Sciapods, Monopods, Monoculi, Androgynæ, and other monsters, and concludes, philosophically enough, that one is not bound to believe that they exist, and that if they do exist, it is not proven that they are men. The only monsters similar to the men whose heads do grow