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in > tfee presence of God , that when ^ th ey are called upon * o accept a living , perhaps of 4066 Z . a ^ esr at that very instaat they are moved by . the Holy Ghost to accept the -Office 'aad ^ dministration thereof , and for no other reason whatever ? " The modes of initiation ate more danaging than ¦ custom-house oaths . Thebishop is elected by the dean -and * refeends of thecathedral . The Queen sendstheae gentlemen a congd d'Jlire , orleave ^ to-elect > but / also-sends them the name of the person whom they are to « lect . They go into "the oatbedral , chant 'and pray , and beseech the Holy Ghost to assist . them in their choice j and , after these invocations , invariably find that the dictates of ¦ the Holy'QIlolrt ' S ^ th the recommendations of the Queen . The following is-worthy of Sydney "Smith-. — The Churchi at this , moment is much to be pitied . She has nothing left but posses-. sion . If a bishop meets . an intelligent gentleman , and reads fatal interrogations in Ms eyes , he has no resource but to take wine tenth him . false position introduces cant , perjury , simony , and ever . a lower class of mind and character into the clergy : and , ¦ when the hierarchy is afraid of science and education , afraid of piety , afraid of ^ tradition , and afraid of theology , there is nothing left bat to quit a Church which- is no longer one .
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THE RELIGIOUS WARS OF FRANCE . Gnerres de Jteligion . By J . Michelct . Paris : Cliameiot . So many histories of St . Bartholomew have been written , that a new history has become essential . M . Michelet ' s , the newest , and one of the best , ought not to close the series . It is a richly-illustrated essay , a crJlical argument flashing with light and colour , rapid and searching , yet move suggestive than satisfactory . When the historian , ceases , when he has presented , with capitular inscriptions , twenty-six tragic or romantic tableaux , crowded with sixteenth-century life , bold , and abundantly artistic , it is ielt that tie narrative is imperfect , episodical , abrupt . Some , of the connecting links have been lost ; events and men have boon too dramatically grouped to ^ allow the entire imposing procession to move across the stage . . But M . Michelet has broken up a mass of ecclesiastical chronicling that lund long passed for history , in and out of France . In his volumes on the llenaissance , the Reformation , and the Religious Wars of the seventeenth , century , there is a broad debatable ground , for as a writer he is too personal , too
authoritative , too much addicted to surprise and paradox , not to draw on many an attack ; but this maybe said , —that he obliterates a multitude of chimerical traditions that once held possession of the Church and the Academy . Were it not that civil history is so perversely separated from religious Kstory , he might even dethrone some of tho doctors of the critical Sorbonne ; but it must be a keen knife , in a good light , which will pierce through that integument . However , M . Micnelefc writes for those who will rend , and it is possible that the students of De Oapefigue and De Falloux—now known to fame as the Pere Loriquet of our generation—may receive a purer inspiration from writers who believe neither in tho -virtues of Catherine de Medicifl , nor in the vices of Do Coligny , in the terrors of the Reformation , nor in the beneficence of St . Bartholomew . In relation to those topics , t \ number of loose errors are afloat , such as those which M . Eugene Despoix hns so effectively characterized . Those not being -the days , he says , when Frcrct would bo committed to the BastUlo for insinuating that the Franks were mot descended from Francua , grandson of Hector , tt is permissible to write lustorical truth . M . Despoix knows , of course , as -well as we , that historical
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in a -wrord more than meets the ear , that entirely depends upon the eye which sees it . Mr . Eagles chooses Homer ' s ovpea o-Kiospra as a specimen n / i says it offers " a vast range for the sketcher . " Truly , but the sketcher inW bring his own landscape 1 If " shadowy mountains" is suggestive to th skeleher , it can only be because his mind is already full of pictures Horn paints none . Let us consider for a moment the j > assage in . which Horn employs the phrase , which because it happens to occur in a soundine- lin £ has become memorable , and to us moderns seems pictorial . Achilles is com plaining of his treatment , regrets having left his own country to come -m ! l fight against the Trojans , who never did 7 dm any harm , never drove h £ cattle off his meadows , for the exoellent reason that the Trojans -iver separated from him by " shadowy mountains , and a roaring sea . " AcVll is not intending to be poetical ; he states a prosaic fact ; tlie more shadowy or wooded the mountains , the greater the obstacle they presented . If we in reading Homer , forget the obstacle , and think only of the picturesque inouiitains , we nmst not credit Homer with our sensibilities , and suppose ha meant what we interpret . While touching on Homer , we may quote what the Sketcher says about Cowper ' s translation of a passage ; - —
Putor . Rising smoke is always delightful—it is associated -with home ; and we would place a home wherever we see beauty . " We say to ourselves " Here ' would I live ; " and in this place the proprietor and architect have but embodied the mind ' s sketch and desire . It is the picture ever present to the mind ' s eye of Ulysses . When heart-sick in despair of not seeing it , he would die . " Ulysses—happy , might he but behold The snu > lce ascending from his native land— - Death covets ;" - SZetdier . You quote from Cowper—he has lost tie feeling aind the picture of the passage . Homer does not say happy would he be , as if it were the reflection , of the author , but that "Ulysses , ardently longing to see the smoke , &c , desires death . It is the feeling of Ulysses that Homer intended to show . Then the picture— " thesmoke ascending , " is feeble in motion . In Homer the smoke itself would be seen to rise and with a life and animation springs up , leaps up from his native land—Kcmvov ano 6 p < ocrKovTa . Ovid is as feeble in his imitation—. ; . ¦ ¦ "; . ¦ . ¦' . - V " " . - ' ' ¦"¦ ¦ - ¦ ¦ ' ¦ ¦ ¦ ' " Optat :- ¦ ¦ ¦ ¦ ' . . ; - ' ¦; '' ' " ¦ ¦
THE SKETCHER . The Sketcher . By the Rev . John Eagles . Blackwood and Sons . Although the S&etc / iei- appeared as a series of papers in Blaclcwood ? s Mapaxine , and may therefore be presumed to have some element of popularity in it , we suspect tkst only a peculiar public will appreciate it : a public interested-an landscape and elegant literature , which is a much smaller public than it pretends to be . Mr . Eagles was a man of elegant culture , an . artist , and something of apoet ; but lie was a mild writer , correct rather than fascinating , judicious rather than impressive . We found his book one Tv : hich -could'be laid dowa "without airy regret , and left unread without much impatience ; yet while Teading it we felt as if a mild and pleasant gentleman -were discoursing to ns on subjects agreeable and suggestive , to .-which , we listened with admiration , but from which our attention -was easily withdrawn . ¦¦ ¦'¦¦ . ¦; . ¦;¦ . ' ¦ . v ¦ ¦ : ¦ ¦ ' . ¦ ' .- ' ¦ ¦ . ¦ .. ' ¦ ¦ ' ' ¦ .. -. The part of the book which pleased us most is that which , he has devoted to Poussin , probably because we share to a great extent his admiration of that painter : —¦
Who ever better understood the . placid stream , the deep tarn , or mountain river , in its life « nd motion , from the first / goshing , through all its course and rests ? So his £ gures . are jdl disengaged andfree—are bajngsof leisure . They are of robust growth , natural vigour -of limb and understanding , of a race sprung from the very woods and locks , untamed and untamable to slave toil ; no artificial elegance—the very reverse of the smirking , pipSng , cocked hat , and flowered shepherds of Trench crockery ( how the artist must have detested them !) but all of the simple elegance of pastoral freedom and leisure , a jart-with and influenced by the -whole scenery- —not as if they commanded it , or could command at , or would twist aside the streams , or cut a twig in all their land . Even the peculiarity of undress is entirely appropriate . It makes them of the pastoral age , and such as never can belong to any other . Like their fraternal trees , thej- are not ashamed to show their rind . They live in no dressed ^ paradise ; . al l that is of the-formal cast , as belonging to another beauty , that poetical painter rejects . All his pictures , are , therefore , a just -whole . Though he saw the "beauty , who could 1 insensible it
jus one- ) B •*• , of the solemn cypress and pine , he would not overawe tne simple . youtb and freedom of his foliage by their forbidding dictatorial -cast . And it is remarkable that all iis trees are in , or rather under than past , their vigorous growth . They are of youth and freshness , like the fabled indwellingVwood-^ ym ph and . Faun that never grow old . Scarce any have attained the girt of timber - to invite the axe , tihat . the most avaricious eye shall never calculate their top and lop . They have the life of pastoral poetry in themselves , and are therefore eternal in un--dying youth . and rigour . And to make this his natural ideal perfect , nothing is introduced to disturb this serene life , unless , indeed , ho paints a storm , and then , who -ever tossed his foliage about like him , as if he were familiar with the winds , aiidknew ^ 11 their ways , and played "with and limited then-power?—for you still see that there is but an occasional irruption of violence that will pass , to upxoot and tear away perhaps some discordant objects , and that gentle Peace had but retired to the shelter ¦ of the suepherds' homes , and would again soon walk forth in uninjured beauty . But in the whole landscape , no too rugged form , and no a-wful sublimity , is introduced , to it be termedthe natural
mar , as may , ideal . Accessibility is a striking character in all Ms compositions . There is not a height or a depth unapproachable ; and this accessibility is marked throughout , or carefully indicated , by path , oTroad , or "building , -or figure . The-whole terrene is for the inhabitants , and the inhabitants for the 'terrene , and all are free " to wander where they will . " The accesibility ia perfect , and it is of a home character , for all the lines tend into the scene , none out . The paths aentice yon within , " where you . may eat of the lotus , and never dream of departure . Very ingenious also is bis analysis of Poussin ' s method of composition . But the Sketcher by no means confines himself to pictures ; he breaks out occasionally into verse { which , to confess ' tho truth , we skipped after the first specimen ) and varies his themes by criticisms of the poets . Altogether the Sketcher \ a a , composite affair , better suited to the pages of a Magazine than to "the demands made by a boolc , ° At page 70 , Mr . Eagles opposes the now universally admitted opinion that tho ancients cared little for landscape , and those who have read Mr . Ruskin ' s
eloquent and convincing pages on this subject will bo curious perhaps to . see what can be said on the other side : — It has been . said that tho ancients had no great notion or admiration of landscape ; —as a painters art , perhaps not ; but Horace -was not the only one-who thought - " flumina amem , aylvasque mglorius . " It ia true , they give you no very elaborate descriptions ; and . I doubt whether any elaborated descriptions , not excepting our Mrs . JUdcliffe ' s evor give them quite successfull y . But they often paint in a-word , and ^ awoken to tho oyo more tUon meets the ear . . Thore is a vast range for tho eketchor « ver Homer ' s ovpea o- * ioei » ra —• " the shadowing mountains , and resounding sen , " are * boundary within winch are noble and exquisite pictures . The Odyssey is delightful totha . landscape painter . . And who vrill be bold enough to try his hand at tho . « ardeTuio £ . Alciaous ? Then , what . magnificent lion-hunts and marine pieces , with tne Eteam-voBBela that knew all ports , and went solf-directed , " covered with vapour « na cioua I Ulysses throwing tho magic safety-girdlo behind him into the sea , and * thousand other admirable subjects .
Tlus is eayW aofchuig while protending to settle tho matter . It is not only because tsao ancianta " , glve you no very elaborate descriptions" but inS— * *« y' «?*»* ' »« = fed £ g for landscape , that critics jnamtain their SlW W Mad they admired landscape as much as Mrs . Jiaddiffe , theywould . ^^ described it as elaborately . As to their painting
Fuinum de patriia posse videie focis . " To see the smoke is imperfect , the Greek alone is complete .- *" When Ulysses first discovers the abode of Circe , it is likewise by the smoke ; but Homer does not on that occasion use the same sentient word , it was rising , and indeed gracefully-waving , ai&crovra , but not leaping up to be seen—there is not that life and desire in it that Homer engenders . He wished that the very smoke of home should have a sentient life , and spring -up to welcome the master of the hearth . And why may not this be Circe ' s habitation ? the passage illustrates the position as well as the incident . Ulysses had ascended a rock , and hence saw the smoke arising . It is an abodefitfor
an enchantress— -beautiful , well built , and the scene appropriate to magic arts in the depths—a place deep in among the windings of sucli a valley as this—ev fiycrcrrj&i , and in just such a clear spotj thus surrcoinded , as if -words of magic power had bade the woods recede , and make a place for tlie magician ' s dwelling , it is jrepicrKeTrTo evi X < oj ) a > "in a lock-round place , "—recollect it is in tlie midst of the depths , so that if 3 'ou had not that word irepicrKe 7 TTa > , the position would be well marked ; yet in spile of this does Cowper , / who , like other prospect lovers , thought perhaps there must be a distinct view , v-entured to mistranslate the passage thus : — " We wont .
Through yonder oats ! embosonx ' d in a vale , But built conspicuous on a swelling knoll , With polish ' d rock , we found a stately dome . " 3 Tot a word about a " swelling knoll" in the original ; but Cowper thought there could not be any looking about or around without it , and gives that meaning to ir ' epia-KtTVTOi . He adopts Clarke ' s translation , "Conspicuo in loco , " and by way of adding something of his own to match it , hits upon the " swelling knoll . " It is too suburban .
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882 THE LliDEB . ___^_ S ^??§> SA ^ jKDAr ,
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Leader (1850-1860), Sept. 13, 1856, page 882, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse2.kdl.kcl.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2158/page/18/
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