On this page
- Departments (1)
-
Text (3)
-
Untitled Article
-
€l)t Irte.
-
Untitled Article
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
-
-
Transcript
-
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
Additionally, when viewing full transcripts, extracted text may not be in the same order as the original document.
Untitled Article
saw his disciple sink in suicide before him , without rebuke , without murmur , without interference !—and shall I believe thy coward blasphemy against such bright examples ? Shall I , for the paltry hour of pitied misery thy trembling avarice would hoard , asperse the path antiquity has hallowed ?—the path which sages trod and martyrs sought and heroes travelled ?—the path made lucid by the track of p iety and virtue ! by the holy march of that illustrious crowd , Lucretia , Cato , Brutus , consecrated ?—' No , that act , the resource of the persecuted , tyrants may denounce , bnt cannot punish , —the act of the brave , those may slander who dare not perform . Let the posthumons vengeance of the monk display itself—though the earthly relic moulder not in monastic clay , the flowers , which bloom on its neglected grave , will not be the less lovely in the eye of heaven because they rise ujj from the brave man's resting-place without the culture of hypocrisy ! ' Thee whose rites
At nature ' s shrine with holy care are paid Daily and ni g htly : boughs of brightest green , And every fairest rose , god of the groves , The queen of flowers shall sweeter save for thee . ' I confess it—the weight of life was too heavy and I determined on its renunciation . From that moment I felt a sweet serenity : I thanked my God that 1 had never listened to the canting tale of'mercenary jugglers who had armed the return to his abode tvilli terrors . Life ' s journey done , death seemed to me only as a kind restorer to those departed friends who had already finished the oppressive pilgrimage , and were now at rest in heaven . 'Tis but a fancy ; yet a fancy , surely , just as rational , as full of happiness to man and meek belief in heaven ' s benevolence , as any of the complicated and fantastic theories which ingenuity has invented or bigotru tvould enforce . "
Jesus Christ , you observe , is only " a pure and spotless propnet , " and he countenances suicide !
PLEADINGS IN FAVOUR or ADTTLTEET . " Alas , Celestine , are those the arguments with which you oppose my passion ? Could you submit to the cold decision of prudential calculation , an ardour which is identified with my very existence , and which nothing but death can diminish ? would you extinguish the celestial flame by the frig id maxims of earthly policy ? would you bind love by reason , or calcinate the degrees of passion according to the rules of arithmetic ? It is impossible—you might as ' well try to freeze the lava , in its current , or to enchain the wings of the lightning !—You tell me you are married , and that the law forbids my passion ! Law forbid passion ! human laiv restrain a celestial instinct ! Can it be , Celestine ? ask your own soul , can it be ?
Do you feel the less because the law forbids it ; can you repress or raise your ardour according to the modifications of the statute ?—aSTo , but you ' try to conquer , to conceal it . ' What then ? 'tis not the reality but the appearance at which this law aims—you may feel , provided you can hide the feeling : that is , God gives you a sentiment which man calls vice , and the law corrects it by the substitution of hypocrisy ! that is , the legislatorfirst blasphemes heaven , and then consoles himself hf deceiving man ! . ' But , even according to its advocates , this law cannot destroy the vice—why ? because it only governs appearance ; but the seripture , on which it professes to be built , expressly tells you that vice consists not in act , but intention /'
LIFE . " You , philosophers of the world , who smile at this , tell me what is life but a vision ? what are its certainties—what its consequence ? Like the fantastic forms of the morning sun , we Hit along the earth and YPJiish : the evening may not find us . "
THE PORTRAIT OF A PHIEST . " l ) e l'Enfcr was about that age nt which men begin to forget everything except their interest ; not that I would infer that this principle originated in him so much from years as instinct , lie was a stern religionist , and had as little pity for the woes as he had charily for the . weakness of his species . The man , who was vile enough to obey one single impulse of nature , deserved , in his opinion , neither respect nor toleration , and , he was often heard to declare , ought to die without the rites of the church . His only exception was in favour of the rich . Sad was it for the unprotected child of sorrow avIio happened to solicit him . Ever ready to reprove , but never to relieve , the base pretence for his brutality usually was , that compassion lor a sinner was an encouragement to . sin ? There wan , however , sometiling so ludicrous in his hypocrisy and so fascinating in him when he fortrot it ,
o hat he was a prime favourite with my father . lie had certainly a . mind much above his station , for , though his deceit gave him some claim to the highest , dignities in the church , his lalcnls ^ wuvcd an insuperable bar to his preferment . For myself , I never liked the man , nor believed his professions , and , as for hi . s ostentatious friendship for my father , I strongly . suspected it originated in his wine-cellar . De ri'Jnfer had a kind of religious prejudice , in favour of this liquor . Rouleau hiniriislf could not have accused him on the score of temperance . I know not whether he was most indebted to the strength of his head or the coldness of his heart , but . lie certainly never seemed intoxicated . There was . something ludicrously profane iu bearing him lecture , over Ins third boll le , on the heinousness of inebriety , for it was at the appropriate period of this indulgence that he was most , zealous in his
reprobation of sensuality . I own I was glad to catch the Abbe in his relaxation ; it confirmed me hi the suspicion of his hypocrisy , for , even in the slight elevation which the Hush of indulgence occasioned , one could see , notwithstanding all bis caution , an anxiety to impose upon others , for Inn interest , that which it . was plain he did not , feel himself from conviction . This wretch covered almost , all his vices with the . semblance of some virtue , at least all bin virtues bore the appearance of vice , soured as they wen ; by the natural ; icidit , y of bit * spirit . Jlc . was iyiin . t . hroii h latent and intolerant l / ivovi / h religion . The intelligence which would have rendered others humble , made him haughty . The . ( 1 on pel , which , its admirers cull -meek , Mas , in him , iiiHolcncc . His sacred calling be used but , as an exemption from vulgar censure , and , for his own interest , he so hardened the mtlitral impracticability of the doctrine which hr - preached , ( bat , poor uwu were almost terrified into
infidelity : indeed , bad he uol , held the omnipotence of the !\> nu aJid the heavenly patronage of the priesthood , neither the patience of Job nor the piety of David nor the ptxsev-cnuico of Paul could have obtained salvation ! In all the externals of religion l ) e PUnlcr was a . most , refined juact it . ioner ; a kind of polemical postureniaster . Then ! was not a Kiiint , in the calendar , for whom lie bud not w , nie . distinct grimace , or a tunctified ruin in the neighbourhood , heforo which bo did not , make , sonio peculiar reverence ! To | , n mire , indeed , tiiono mnguhu-iticH might occasionally bo excused , as they were flic only instances in wliieli bis pi ,, | y WilH practical . Mven these , however , he most unceremoniously dispensed with wben-« msr they intcrfimid with his most trifling gratification : tlnm lim grace before
dinner was a brief contortion of his eye-balls , ' lest the meat should cool , ' and his subsequent devotion was , if possible , more laconic , ' lest the wine should heat . ' The only rival propensity , which this love for good living held , was a fervent admiration of money . Though the failing was professional , he was ashamed of it , and , pretended to defend it on orthodox principles . He would say , be only took from his flock those superfluities of fortune which , if left in their hands , mi ght be employed in the pursuits of vice , but , in his , might serve the purposes of religion ; and . thus the conclusion was that the fleecing which lie gave them , had the double good of preventing sin and improving the church ! " Such was De l'Enfer , the almost constant inmate of my father's house and companion of bis table . A greater compound of pious craft and haug 7 ity humility the priesthood never nourished . _ £ folio could say no more . "
THE 80 LDIEK , AND THE PKIEST . "' Such / said he , ' are ever the motives of a soldier , no matter how affected liberality may mask them . A fierce hyffina , he riots mid the memorials of our nature ' s frailty , and fattens and enriches himself on the plunder of the grave / St . Aubert , stung to the soul at the unjust reflection , retorted bitterly— ' If the soldier pursues to the grave , he pauses there : his condemnation should not come from the hypocritic monk who sends his impiozis anathema bet / ond it' , ¦
" De l'Enfer , in his rage , appealed for protection to my father ^ who , wishing to end the controversy in good humour , playfully replied , ' Not I , indeed , my good Abbe , I must preserve a laughing neutrality at the expense of both . You know though a soldier myself , I have ever regretted the necessity of an array , and often told you that , in my mind , both the bishop and the general , though so differ ent in their pursuits , found their common origin in the vices of the world . At all events it is not policy in the priest to quarrel with the soldier , to whose pious efforts he is . indebted for so many fees and so many converts /'"
A RETROSPECT . "' Far , far be it from me , my children , ' said the best of parents , ' to reprove a passion which I well know is neither vincible nor voluntary . There are some pretended moralists in life whom ago has withered into a negative virtue ; who are passive , because they arc powerless , and are ever loud in their censure , because they are incapable of enjoyment . Let such men selfishly deny to others the pleasures of that season which they have passed themselves ; I would as soon think of givin g my defenceless infant to an hungry cannibal , as of making such men the model of my imitation . JSTo , these grey hairs have not chilled the recollection of my youthful joys , and they shall not freeze me into a fretful and impotent austerity . Our life is but , at best , a fleeting year;—may the hand be blighted which would embitter its spring !"
THE MORALISTS . " Oh , how I hate those mendicant moralists , who , like the ancient cynic , make their rags their merit , entrenching themselves in the intolerable and intolerant filthiness of their superstition ! hypocrites , who , coiling themselves up in the little , cautious circle of a cowardly abstinence , misname their timidity , and call it virtue . " After reading those extracts from Mr . Phillips ' s work , we may appreciate the sincerity and the dignity with which he refused to hear" Mr . Jlolyoake—refused to believe that a man holding Mr . Holyoakc ' s opinions could possibly be a member of society or worthy of the protection of its laws . Perhaps it is superfluous to add any illustration to the character of the defender of Courvoisier ; but we have thought it right to take this retrospective glance , and leave our readers to meditate upon it .
Untitled Article
THE MISERIES OF A DRAMATIC CRITIC . Ttttcke arc persons who in the na'iveU of their hearts envy us dramatic ! critics the delight of constant attendance at the theatre ; whatever that delight may be , 1 assure them M . Azais , who wrote a philosophic work on compensations , might have added a chapter setting forth tho miseries which accompany that delight . I have touched on this before ; but you shall judge , yourself , from the specimen now to be laid before you . You , beloved reader , know very well what my intentions woro—what my arrangements with certain vellum folios were . The fortnight before Christmas I had n right to reckon on ; had I not , V It was a period wherein I might calculate on laying in a store oi" lead for future lucubrations—enough to roof a house ; with ! Well I The first thing 1 see in Monday morning ' s Times is I hat Charles JV 1 a ( hews , ( may the gods—applaud him !) with his usual restlessness , brings out a new piece . jJeoauso ho can ' t keep quiet on the stage , he insists we shall not be quiet in our study ! 1 resolve not to go . After nil , a , farce wont occupy much time , and the title , A I'lIKNOMHNON IN A SMOf ! K-FUO < JK .. rather piques my coyness . So I go . Being a , philosopher , I am hugely lidded with 1 , 1 k ; subject , of ( . his piece , which is new on the stage . J ' oor Howcrhcrry hns a . bad ( ime of it , in . this lying , cheating ag ( M > f veneer . No one tolls the truth , no one acts < lie truth , no one cares for the truth . I le is nuule miserable by lies , misnnthi-opic by imposition . Truth , ( Ik ; great Noiinienoii , 'remains , like all Nottinena , hidden , unporceivctl—guessed at , but unknown . ' . It never realizes itself in tho guise of a , Phenomenon ^ "What is truth P" asked the unhappy J'ilato ; and would not wait ( or an answer . Why should he F Who likes to hear tho IrulhP Do you , dear madam P do you , eminent sir P No one , does . " JS ' uus na / mon . s pas Us cfioacs pdrcojii ' vilcs strut vr < tit : x , " s ;| id Nicole , — - "main nous Its cnu / oiis vnn ' c . s pa rccquc noux Us <( ii // on . s , " - —it is J »<> t because we love truth that we like to hear certain things said , but we call them true because wo like them . And Plato wayn , ..... . JJnt no I'll not venture upon lead just now . It is enough lor my m-cwotit thesis that Truth is a Noiinienon nuvly phenonieni / . ed lo tho cognition of tho Honnos ( if you know what that liiemi . s ) , and thai when Sowcrber / y docs cognise in his milkman , ( he tSoiuei-He ( nhire Phenomenon alluded to , he may he pardoned tho extravagance of Ilits joy . lie Jiieettf v \ ith a HHUi who speaks tho truth— the harsh , blunt , unequivocal truth , mi » ofUuue < l by any " consideration , for the feelings" of thoso who hear it . llornisoM the Milkman into a Mentor . JJo pays him three pounds a wook for yovon
€L)T Irte.
€ l ) t Irte .
Untitled Article
1214 THE LEADER . [ Saturday , , _ - __ : t " — - '
-
-
Citation
-
Leader (1850-1860), Dec. 18, 1852, page 1214, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse2.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/vm2-ncseproduct1965/page/18/
-