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tellectual acuteness , no amount even of mere pity fir his errors , -will enable us to seo the man from within , and put our ovm souls into tie place of Ms soul . To do that one must feel and confess within oneself the seeds of the very same errors -which one reproves in him ; one must have passed more or less through his temptations , doubts , hungers of heart and brain . ... . Gently indeed should we qpeak even of the dreams of some self-imagined ' Bride of Christ , ' -when we picture to ourselves the bitter agonies which must have been endured ere a human soul conld develop so fantastically-diseased a growth . ' She w&s only a hysterical nun . * Well , and what more tragical object , to those who will look patiently and lovingly ai human nature , than a hysterical nun ? She may have been driven into a convent by some disappointment in love . And has not disappointed affection been confessed , in all climes and ages , to enshroud its victim ever after , as it were , in a sanctuary of revewnd pity ? If sorrow ' broke her brains , ' as well as broke her heart , shall ire do aught but love her the more for her capacity of love ? Or she may have entered the convent , as thousands did , in girlish simplicity , to escape from a world -which she had not tried ,
• ¦ ¦ ¦ . - . ¦ . ¦ . ¦ ? ¦ : ' ¦ ¦ ¦ ¦¦¦ .. ¦ Some people ' s constancy is never so much tried as when the object of their attachment Is made ridiculous : they have , heroism enough to share the dignity of persecution , but not enough to share the reputation of absurdity-Yet it is a trial that ' awaits all our enthusiasms in this world . We must be prepared to see our noblest ideas degraded into Cant , our moat serious studies vulgarized into a Mania . And it is but a paltry enthusiasm that will not bear such a test— -that is driven into denying that the world is getting better because fools take to prating of ' progress , ' or that begins to be disgusted with an aquarium , because Vulgarity and Ignorance have a very costly one in their back drawing-room . Besides , some good will come even out of the Cant and the Mania , for as you can't handle pitch without being defiled , so you can't handle rose-leaves without carrying about some of the healthy scent . Meanwhile we can afford to smile with the . . very pleasant " -writer on ' Science by the Seaside , ' in Fruser , at the comic symptoms exhibited by many of the ' bitten * subjects . Here is his amusing description of a young lady ' s transition frompoUchomanie to pdlyvomanie' :- —
She—for we shall be ungallant enough to present a feminine example of the disease which is now in our mind ' s eye— -she being located at a fashionable watering-place ( name of . no consequence , for are they not legion , and as like each other as Csesar and Pompey ?) happens to be shipwrecked one stormy afternoon on the coasts of a marine curiosityjshop . She -wanders idly in its becornered recesses , now disinterring an illused Onier or Nautilus , tortured -with files and acids into prismatic colours and unwonted sinuations ; now wondering whether the rain will cease ; now admiring a basket of sea-weeds , besmirched with varnish and adorned with a motto , which poetically requests -the reader not to call them ' weeds , ' because the > yare neither more nor less than ' flowers of the sea , ' a title which we fancy the anemones and polypes would be very well incUned to dispute with them . " And pray , Mrs . So-and-so , what have you got in that rather dirty-lookingpudding-basin ?" " Them's zuphites , ma ' am , if you please , " responds the sibyl , from the depths of her grotto . " Zu—¦ what ?"
' Phites , ma ' am . Sea . nemones , ma'am ; , what Mr . Gosse writes books about . Comes from the beach , ma'am . Tuppence each—leastways the common ones ; crassycornys , fourpence ; dianthys , one shilling and sixpence . " " And what ' s the use of them , Mrs . So-and-so ?" " Lor , ma'am , I can't tell ye—I never could find no use in them myself , but the quality thinks them tutifull—Iss , fy ! keeps ' em in their draring-rooms , and never minds their turning their little insides out , nor smelling nasty-like , nor nothing !" The result of which dialogue is that our lady friend carries home a jar of marine pickles , invests in a Gosse and a Kingsley , and before morning is on the high-road to a state of confirmed ' thalassian' (« . Gosse ) monomania .
So far of the cause of the disease , now for the symptoms . Xext day , Phillis , the sheeny-ringleted Iad 3 ' 's-maid , is discovered in hysterics— -six nasty pudding-basins , two confectioner ' s jars , and a foot-tub , on the drawing-room table , her mistress ' s bonnet on the floor , garnished with a layer of damp sea-weed , and her mistress ' s dress all over irreparable puddles of salt-water . Her mistress is raving . Her [ vocabulary is a mixture of young lady expletives , and a quasi-scientific jargon , -which becomes more and more complicated as sTic penetrates the depths of zoological nomenclature . "Oh , Mr . Penaninke , I am so charmed to see you this morning , " -was her salutation , aa " \ ve unwarily did ourselves the honour of a mid-day call ; " this , I think , is quite in your way . I know you delight in the exquisite forms of the natural world " ( pointing to the pic-dishes ) . « t ! x ' " We obscrved miWly , " were very fond of anything -which was natural . " nir tJ ' " ° * ook at tllis lovely specimen of Actinia troglodytes , so named , as dear Mr . Gosse tells us , from its inhabiting the caves of the African Shepherds , —how very curious , isn ' t it ? " .
Wo endeavoured to insinuate that the peruiltimatc syllable of the unhappy animal ' s specific name was not usually lengthened l ) y the professors of the Greek language ; and . further , that the creature being found on the English coast , couldn ' t live in an African cave ; but the torrent had burst its banks , and we were overwhelmed . " And then , my dear Mr . Penaninkc , it ' s so much better , of course , as Mr . Kingsley says , to be improving one's mind C spoilt her best bonnet , I declare— -well , I never I 'moaned Plullis , - who was rescuing the debris of her mistress ' s outward woman in a rctire . d corner of the room ) , hy studying the works of nature , than to ruin one ' s constitution , and throw away one ' s time in crocheting purses and embroidering braces ior your ungrateful sex" ( we bowed deprecatorily ) ; " and besides it ' s so delightful , as Air . trosso says , to be always perceiving the wondorful adaptation of ends to means , and the beautiful lessons of resi gnation and decorum—no , I don ' t mean that quitebut you know what I mean—it ' s just like , I mean , going to hear tliat charming Mr . JLhumpitwoll , when ho gives us such beautiful sermons , in the season of the Rotunda Lhapel—I novcr knew before what instruction and amusement these lovely little polypuses -wore ablo to give us !"
Here the lady paused , apparently for lack of breath , and wo seized tho opportunity ana our hat , and oscaped as decorously as our inward convulsions would allow ; nor did we recover our philosophic calm till wo had ensconscd ourselves for the whole altornoon m a favourite nook on tho rocky shore , and socn the great sun sink , a ball rU 8 » ln e fire , through vast bells of purple and golden cloud into tlio fur-ofT Atlantic Waste . Ihojinnle of our lady-friend ' s maniawns brief and tragical . Having been invited to a half-dozen of pic-nics given in honour of the officers of the lldth , who had Ijecn lately quartered in . tho town , she ontircly forgot her scientific pursuits ; and when she lv ! f ^ ., ° , «?* forn «* state , nnd re-sought her ill-fated enptives , sho found them Sf ; . l ¦^ "ow of th eir dry receptacle in a shapeless nnd undisthiguishable massif 3 i 11 torsclv remarked ; or , as her mistress more elegantly paraphrased it , evolving sulphuretted hydrogen in tho most charmingly scientific manner . Turning over the pngos of Frascr , we alight on the signature ' C . K . — always attractive to us—appended to nn article on Mr . Vaughn ' s
interesting work , Hours with , the Mystics . We would say how nnd why we admire this article if we did not want all our space for aa extract , which , indeed , in its spirit of reverent tondurness towards human weakness and snfluxing , sufficiently indicates tho reason of our admiration : To understand any man , wo must have sympathy for him , even affection . No
inbefore she had discovered that the world could give her something which tbe convent could not . What more tragical than her discovery hi herself of a capacity for love which could never be satisfied within that prison ?—and worse , .-when that capacity began to vindicate itself in strange forms of disease , seemingly to her supernatural , often agonizing , often degrading , and at the same time ( strange contradiction ) mixed itself up with her noblest thoughts , to ennoble them still more , and inspire her with a love for all that is fair and lofty , for self-devotion and self-sacrifice , such as she had never felt before ? Shall we blame her—shall w « even smile at her , if , after the dreadful question ' Is this the possession of a demon ? ' had alternated with 'Is this the inspiration of a god ? ' she settled down as the only escape from madness and suicide into the latter thought , and believed that she found in the ideal and perfect manhood of One whom she was told to revere and love as a God , and who had sacrificed his own life for her , a substitute for that merely human affection from , which she was for ever debarred ? Why blame her for not remembering that which was wanting , or making straight that which was crooked ? Let God judge her , not we .
JPraser is very various and interesting this month . It has a story which begins and ends in this number , so that you can take it up in an . hour of peptic idleness or dyspeptic incapacity without incurring any pangs of suspense . It has a criticism—alittle severe—of Professor Attoun ' s Bothtoelh and a criticism—not a little severe— -of Mr . Gilfillan ' s \ History * c / * a Man ; a humorous description of the e Sepoy '—J ~ ach Sepoy , as he is affectionately called in India—on parade and in his ' lines' ( meaning barracks ) ; and , for graver readers , the second part of ' The Essay on D-vrarfs and Giants , ' article on the ' Indian Civil Service , ' and one on De Tocqtjevilxe ' s work , Oii . the State of ' Society in France before the Revolution of 1789 . Blachwoody too , is in one of its best moods— -chatty , discursive , and to us 3
especially fascinating , m a ' Chapter on Peninsular Dogs . The dogs in question are not domestic ; they are " such as you meet with in the streets of cities in south-eastern and southern Europe . ' Wild dogs ¦ ' they are called ; but this truth is , they form , a connecting link "between the wild dog and the domesticated . They are , in fact , an intermediate sort of dog ; neither wholly wild , for their habitat is among the dwellings of men ; nor wholly domesticated , because ( for the good Spanish reason , ' tienen mucha pulga ) they are never permitted indoors . " The writer tells charmingly of the friendship he formed with several of these dogs . " We like best of all the story of ' Fido , ' because it shows that dogs , as well as men , are developed by suffering : —
After a few largesses , and a little preliminary negotiation , I succeeded in coaxing Mr . Fido through a side-door into the garden of the hotel . He entered at first with a half-savage and very frightened look , afterwards with more self-possession . In the garden I kept for his use a pan of water , which saved him a trot of some extent to the nearest chafan ' s . But , except that he evidently knew mo as one from whoni something was to be got , it was long ere I succeeded in eliciting any token of recognition . . AVhen he did begin at length to show attachment , the indications wore Bingular ;—he certainly -was an odd-tempered dog . My plan was to speak to him , to look him in the face , and rub his back—more immediate contact being undesirable— -with tho end of my crutch . Presently , up went his nose in tlie air with a dismal yowl . Evidently pleased all the while , he was at a loss to expt'ess novel emotiotis . His yowl , in its wild pathos , much resembled tho native songs of the Portuguese peasantry , and indeed some singing that one is forced to hear nearer home . Then , starting off like mad , he would begin scampering about tbe garden , in a figure of eight , barking meanwhile with all his might . But up to the time of his melancholy end he never once looked mo in the face like a dog of my own , and his eye retained its savage glare .
Alas , poor Fido ! His end was melancholy indeed . A low , underbred fellow—an Englishman he was , I am sorry to say—had a-very fierce , powerful dog which he had brought over from Ijivcrpool ; a large dog , too , though not so great a laeast as himself . This gentleman , who was a sort of a auttler , had a quarrel with the people of my hotel ; and having heard that there was a dog whom th . e household noticed , took occasion to walk down the street with his own dog at his heels / having ftrst given out that he " would soon help old Mother da Costa to a notion of dogrfighting , " The , consequence was a collision between tho two dogs . Fido , Insulted , accepted battleho would not have turned . tail to a lion—and in a short , sa-vago conflict , if conflict it could , bo called , received injuries which in a very few hours proved fatal . I had ridden down into Lisbon , nnd was met on my return by Madame da Costa with woful countenance . "Oh , sir , tho poor dog ! your dog 1—Fido , sir ! He ' good as killed , sir ; and he ' s in the garden , sir . "
There he lay , extended on his side in tho gravel walk . Poor Fido ! In his neck gaped a hideous wound , not skin-deep ; tho throat was fairly torn open . His eye once hright and fierce , had already begun to glaze in death . Yet , what it never had done before , it looked at me—a suffering , an anxious , a pleading , a beseeching look . Somowhat a proilciont in tho language of doge , I interpreted that look , Hero , bring ; tho pan of water . " Ho attempted to rise and lap , but could not . Administering a little at a time , I contrived , with tUo palm of my hand , to slack his dying thirst . He had nlroady given tokens of entreaty , he now made a sign of gratitude . A few faint thumps with his tail on the yrnvtl ireru his fnal indication (> f life . So began and so ended his recognition of a human friend ! Up the country , when restored to health , some months after , I met that beast of a fellow ; nnd from - > vhnt then occurred had reason to think ho felt sorry , though not compunctious , that he had killed my dog .
A second article on ' Soa-sidc Studies , ' gives soine . of the humour that is latent iu Natural Histoi'y as well as in other things , in tho very exciting combat between two Hermit Crabs , encli bent , like an egoistic crustacean
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. . ——? ' ¦• • ; Critics are not the legislators , butthe judges and police of literature . They do not make laws—they interpret euid try to enforce them . —Hdinburalt > Review .
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September 6 , 1866 . ] THE 1 B 1 BER . 855
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Leader (1850-1860), Sept. 6, 1856, page 855, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse2.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2157/page/15/
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