Another letter from Dr. Hill describes how he found himself at Ashbourne in Derbyshire with the Club, or rather with a fragment of it. He wrote from the Green Man there concerning his adventures.

I have far exceeded my time, but I would like in conclusion to say how admirably his daughter has written this book on our Brother Birkbeck Hill. What a pleasant picture it presents of a genuine lover of literature. His was not an analytical mind nor was he a great critic. His views on Dante and Newman will not be shared by any of us. But, what is far more important than analysis or criticism, he had an entirely lovable personality and was a most clubbable man. He was moreover the ideal editor of Boswell. What more could be said in praise of a beloved Brother of the Johnson Club!



VII. THE PRIVATE LIFE OF FERDINAND LASSALLE {185}

Ich habe die Inventur meines Lebens gemacht. Es war gross, brav, wacker, tapfer und glanzend genug. Eine kunftige Zeit wird mir gerecht zu warden wissen.

—FERDINAND LASSALLE, August 9, 1864.



I. The Countess Sophie von Hatzfeldt.

Ferdinand Lassalle was born at Breslau on April 11, 1825. His parents were of Jewish race, his father a successful silk merchant. From boyhood he was now the tyrant, now the slave of a mother whom he loved and by whom he was adored. Heymann Lassal—his son changed the spelling during his Paris sojourn—appears to have been irritable and tyrannical; and there are some graphic instances in the recently published "Diary" {186} of the differences between them, ending on one occasion in the boy rushing to the river, where his terrified father finds him hesitating on the brink, and becomes reconciled. A more attractive picture of the old man is that told of his visit to his son-in-law, Friedland, who had married Lassalle's sister. Friedland was ashamed of his Jewish origin, and old Lassalle startled the guests at dinner by rising and frankly stating that he was a Jew, that his daughter was a Jewess, and that her husband was of the same race. The guests cheered, but the host never forgave his too frank father-in-law.

Lassalle was a student at Breslau University, and later at Berlin, where he laid the foundation of those Hegelian studies to which he owed his political philosophy. In 1845 he went to Paris, and there secured the friendship of Heine, being included with George Sand in the interesting circle around the "mattress grave" of the sick poet.

Among Heine's letters {187} there are four addressed to Lassalle, now as "Dear and best beloved friend," now as "Dearest brother-in-arms." "Be assured," he says, "that I love you beyond measure. I have never before felt so much confidence in any one." "I have found in no one," he says again, "so much passion and clearness of intellect united in action. You have good right to be audacious—we others only usurp this Divine right, this heavenly privilege." And to Varnhagen von Ense he writes:—

My friend, Herr Lassalle, who brings you this letter, is a young man of the most remarkable intellectual gifts. With the most thorough erudition, with the widest learning, with the greatest penetration that I have ever known, and with the richest gift of exposition, he combines an energy of will and a capacity for action which astonish me. . . . In no one have I found united so much enthusiasm and practical intelligence.

"In every line," says Brandes, "this letter shows the far-seeing student of life, indeed, the prophet!"

Lassalle is not backward in reciprocating the enthusiasm.

"I love Heine," he declares; "he is my second self. What audacity! what crushing eloquence! He knows how to whisper like a zephyr when it kisses rose-blooms, how to breathe like fire when it rages and destroys; he calls forth all that is tenderest and softest, and then all that is fiercest and most daring. He has the command of all the range of feeling."

Lassalle's sympathy with Heine never lessened. It was Heine who lost grasp of the intrinsically higher nature of his countryman and co-religionist, and an acute difference occurred, as we shall see, when Lassalle interfered in the affairs of the Countess von Hatzfeldt. Introduced to the Countess by his friend Dr. Mendelssohn, in 1846, Lassalle felt that here in concrete form was scope for all his enthusiasm of humanity, and he determined to devote his life to championing the cause of the oppressed lady. {188} The Countess was the wife of a wealthy and powerful nobleman, who ill-treated her shamefully. He imprisoned her in his castles, refused her doctors and medicine in sickness, and carried off her children. Her own family, as powerful as the Count, had often intervened, and the Count's repentances were many but short-lived. In 1846 matters reached a crisis. The Count wrote to his second son, Paul, asking him to leave his mother. The boy carried this letter to the Countess; and Lassalle relates that, finding the lady in tears, he persuaded her to a full disclosure of the facts. He pledged himself to save her, and for nine years carried on the struggle, with ultimate victory, but with considerable loss of reputation. He first told the story to Mendelssohn and Oppenheim, two friends of great wealth, the latter a Judge of one of the superior courts in Prussia. They agreed to help him; for then, as always, Lassalle's persuasive powers were irresistible. They went with him from Berlin to Dusseldorf, the Count being in that neighbourhood. Von Hatzfeldt was at Aix-la-Chapelle, caught in the toils of a new mistress, the Baroness Meyendorff. Lassalle discovered that she had obtained from the Count a deed assigning to her some property which should in the ordinary course have come to the boy Paul. The Countess, hearing of the disaster which seemed likely to befall her favourite son, made her way into her husband's presence, and in the scene which followed secured a promise that the document should be revoked—destroyed. But no sooner had she left him than the Count returned to the Meyendorff influence, and refused to see his wife again. Soon afterwards it was discovered that the woman had set out for Cologne. Lassalle begged his friends Oppenheim and Mendelssohn, to follow her and, if possible, to ascertain whether the momentous document had actually been destroyed. They obeyed, and reached the hotel at Cologne about the same time as the Baroness. Here they were guilty of an indiscretion, if of nothing worse, for which Lassalle can surely in no way be blamed, but which was used for many a year to tarnish his name. Oppenheim, on his way upstairs, observed a servant with the luggage of the Baroness; among other things a desk or casket of a kind commonly used to carry valuable papers. Thinking only of the fact that it was desirable to obtain a certain document from the brutal Count, he pounced upon the casket when the servant's back was turned. But he had no luggage with him in which to conceal it, and so handed it to Mendelssohn. Mendelssohn, although fully sensible of the blunder that had been committed, could not desert his friend, and placed the casket in his trunk.

The whole hotel was in an uproar when the Baroness discovered her loss. The friends fled panic-stricken in opposite directions. Suspicion immediately fell upon Dr. Mendelssohn, because his room was seen to have been left in confusion. He was pursued, but succeeded in escaping from a railway carriage and fleeing to Paris, leaving his luggage in the hands of the police. In his box some papers were found which incriminated Oppenheim; and Oppenheim, a Judge of one of the superior courts, and the son of a millionaire, was arrested and imprisoned for theft!

Lassalle visited Oppenheim in prison, and extracted from him a promise of silence as to the motive for his conduct. He then threw himself vigorously into the struggle, both in the press and in the law courts. Here he seems to have parted company with Heine, because, as he tells us, "the Baroness Meyendorff was a friend of the Princess de Lieven, and the Princess de Lieven was the mistress of Guizot, and Heine received a pension from Guizot."

Oppenheim was acquitted in 1846, and Mendelssohn, who was really innocent of the actual robbery, naturally thought it safe to return to Germany. He was, however, tried before the assize court of Cologne, and sentenced to five years' imprisonment. Alexander von Humboldt obtained a reduction of the sentence to one year, but on condition that Mendelssohn should leave Europe. He went, after his release from prison, to Constantinople, and when the Crimean war broke out joined the Turkish army, dying on the march in 1854.

Meanwhile Germany rang for many years with the story of the so-called robbery, and Lassalle's name was even more associated therewith than were those of his more culpable friends. And this was not unnatural, because he was engaged year after year in continuous warfare with Count Hatzfeldt. At length, in 1854, about the time that the unfortunate Dr. Mendelssohn died in the East, he secured for the Countess complete separation and an ample provision.

Lassalle's friendship with this lady inevitably gave rise to scandal. But never surely was scandal so little justified. She was twenty years his senior, and the relation was clearly that of mother and son. In her letters he is always "my dear child," and in his she is the confidante of the innumerable troubles of mind and of heart of which so impressionable a man as Ferdinand Lassalle had more than his share.

"You are without reason and judgment where women are concerned," she tells him, when he confides to her his passion for Helene von Donniges; and the remark opens out a vista of confidences of which the world happily knows but little. From the assize court of Dusseldorf, of all places, we have a very definite glimpse of a good-looking man, likely to be a favourite in the society of the opposite sex:—

"Ferdinand Lassalle," runs the official document, "aged twenty-three, a civilian, born at Breslau, and dwelling recently at Berlin. Stands five feet six inches in height, has brown curly hair, open forehead, brown eyebrows, dark blue eyes, well proportioned nose and mouth, and rounded chin."

He was indeed a favourite in Berlin drawing-rooms, pronounced a "Wunderkind" by Humboldt, and enthusiastically admired on all sides. But, assuming the story of Sophie Solutzeff to be mythical, there is no evidence that Lassalle had ever had any very serious romance in his life until he met Helene von Donniges.

Es ist eine alte Geschichte, Doch bleibt sie immer neu.—HEINE.



II. Helene von Donniges

Helene von Donniges has told us the story in fullest detail—the story of that tragic love which was to send Lassalle to his too early death. She was the daughter of a Bavarian diplomatist who had held appointments in Italy, and later in Switzerland. She was betrothed as a child of twelve to an Italian of forty years of age. At a time when, as she says, her thoughts should have been concentrated upon her studies, they were distracted by speculations on marriage and the marriage tie. A young Wallachian student named Yanko Racowitza crossed her path. His loneliness—he was far from home and friends—kindled her sympathy. Dark and ugly, she compared him to Othello, and called him her "Moor." In spite of some parental opposition she insisted upon plighting her troth to him, and the Italian lover was scornfully dismissed. Then comes the opening scene of the present story. It was in Berlin, whither Helen—we will adopt the English spelling of the name—had travelled with her grandmother in 1862, that she was asked at a ball the momentous question, "Do you know Lassalle?" She had never heard his name. Her questioner was Baron Korff, a son-in-law of Meyerbeer, who, charmed by her originality, remarked that she and Lassalle were made for one another. Two weeks later her curiosity was further excited, when Dr. Karl Oldenberg let fall some similar remark as to her intellectual kinship with the mysterious Lassalle. She asked her grandmother about him, and was told that he was a "shameless demagogue." Then she turned to her lover, who promised to inquire. Racowitza brought her information about the Countess, the casket, and other "sensations"—only to excite her curiosity the more. Finally a friend, Frau Hirsemenzel, undertook to introduce her to the notorious Socialist. The introduction took place at a party, and if her account is to be trusted, no romance could be more dramatic than the actuality. They loved one another at first sight, conversed with freedom, and he called her by an endearing name as he offered her his arm to escort her home.

"Somehow it did not seem at all remarkable," she says, "that a stranger should thus call me 'Du' on first acquaintance. We seemed to fit to one another so perfectly."

She was in her nineteenth year, Lassalle in his thirty-ninth. The pair did not see one another again for some months, not in fact until Helen visited Berlin as the guest of a certain lawyer Holthoff. Here she met Lassalle at a concert, and the friendly lawyer connived at their being more than once together. At a ball, on one occasion, Lassalle asked her what she would do if he were sentenced to death, and she beheld him ascending the scaffold.

"I should wait till your head was severed," was her answer, "in order that you might look upon your beloved to the last, and then—I should take poison."

He was pleased with her reply, but declared that there was no fear—his star was in the ascendant! And so it seemed; for although young Racowitza even then accosted him in the ballroom, the friendly Holthoff soon arranged an informal betrothal; and Lassalle was on the eve of a great public triumph which seemed more likely to take him to the throne than to the scaffold.

To many this will seem an exaggeration. Yet hear Prince Bismarck in the Reichstag seventeen years after Lassalle's death:—

He was one of the most intellectual and gifted men with whom I have ever had intercourse, a man who was ambitious in high style, but who was by no means Republican: he had very decided national and monarchical sympathies, and the idea which he strove to realize was the German Empire, and therein we had a point of contact. Lassalle was extremely ambitious, and it was perhaps a matter of doubt to him whether the German Empire would close with the Hohenzollern dynasty or the Lassalle dynasty; but he was monarchical through and through. Lassalle was an energetic and very intellectual man, to talk with whom was very instructive. Our conversations lasted for hours, and I was always sorry when they came to an end. {198}

The year 1864, which was to close so tragically, opened indeed with extraordinary promise. Lassalle left Berlin in May—Helen had gone back to Geneva two or three months earlier—travelling by Leipzig and Cologne through the Rhenish provinces, and holding a "glorious review" the while.

"I have never seen anything like it," he writes to the Countess von Hatzfeldt. "The entire population indulged in indescribable jubilation. The impression made upon me was that such scenes must have attended the founding of new religions."

And it appeared possible that Heine's description of Lassalle as the Messiah of the nineteenth century was to be realized. The Bishop of Mayence was on his side, and the King of Prussia sympathetic. As he passed from town to town the whole population turned out to do him honour. Countless thousands met him at the stations: the routes were ornamented with triumphal arches, the houses decorated with wreaths, and flowers were thrown upon him as he passed. As the cavalcade approached the town of Ronsdorf, for example, it was easy to see that the people were on tip-toe with expectation. At the entrance an arch bore the inscription:—

Willkommen dem Dr. Ferdinand Lassalle Viel tausendmal im Ronsdorfer Thal!

Under arches and garlands, smothered with flowers thrown by young work- girls, whose fathers, husbands, brothers, cheered again and again, Lassalle and his friends entered the town, while a vast multitude followed in procession. It was at Ronsdorf that Lassalle made the speech which had in it something of fateful presentiment:—

"I have not grasped this banner," he said, "without knowing quite clearly that I myself may fall. The feelings which fill me at the thought that I may be removed cannot be better expressed than in the words of the Roman poet:

'Exoriare aliquis nostris ex ossibus ultor!'

or in German, 'Moge, wenn ich beseitigt werde, irgend ein Racher und Nachfolger aus meinen Gebeinen auferstehen!' May this great and national movement of civilization not fall with my person, but may the conflagration which I have kindled spread farther and farther, so long as one of you still breathes. Promise me that, and in token raise your right hands."

All hands were raised in silence, and the impressive scene closed with a storm of acclamation.

But Lassalle was worn out, and he fled for a time from the storm and conflict to Switzerland. Helen at Geneva heard of his sojourn at Righi- Kaltbad, and she made an excursion thither with two or three friends, and thus on July 25 (1864) the lovers met again. An account of their romantic interview comes to us in Helen's own diary and in the letter which Lassalle wrote to the Countess Hatzfeldt two days later. Helen tells how they climbed the Kulm together, discussing by the way the question of their marriage and the possibility of opposition.

"What have your parents against me?" asked Lassalle; and was told that only once had she mentioned his name before them, and that their horror of the Jew agitator had ever since closed her mouth. So the conversation sped. The next morning their hope of "a sunrise" was destroyed by a fog. "How often," says Helen, "when in later years I have stood upon the summit of the Righi and seen the day break in all its splendour, have I recalled this foggy, damp morning, and Lassalle's disappointment!"

As he looked upon her, so pale and trembling, he abused the climate, and promised that he would give up politics, devote himself to science and literature, and take her to Egypt or India. He talked to her of the Countess, "who will think only of my happiness," and he talked of religion. Was his Jewish faith against him in her eyes? Mahommedanism and Judaism, it was all one to her, was the answer, but paganism by preference! They parted, to correspond immediately, and Lassalle to write to the astonished, and in this affair, unsympathetic Countess, of the meeting with his beloved. With the utmost friendliness, however, he endeavoured to keep the elder lady at a distance for a time.

On July 20 Helen writes to him, repeating her promise to become his wife.

You said to me yesterday: "Say but a sensible and decided 'Yes'—et je me charge du reste." Good; I say "Yes"—chargez-vous donc du reste. I only require that we first do all in our power to win my parents to a friendly attitude. To me belongs, however, a painful task. I must slay in cold blood the true heart of Yanko von Racowitza, who has given me the purest love, the noblest devotion. With heartless egotism I must destroy the day-dream of a noble youth. But for your sake I will even do what is wrong.

Meanwhile Lassalle's unhappy attempts to conciliate the Countess continue. He writes of Helen's sympathy and dwells upon her entire freedom from jealousy. He tells Frau von Hatzfeldt how much Helen is longing to see his old friend. In conclusion, as though not to show himself too blind a lover, he remarks that Helen's one failing is a total lack of will. "When, however, we are man and wife," he adds, "then shall I have 'will' enough for both, and she will be as clay in the hands of the potter." The Countess continues obdurate, and in a further letter (Aug. 2) Lassalle says:—

It is really a piece of extraordinary good fortune that, at the age of thirty-nine and a half, I should be able to find a wife so beautiful, so sympathetic, who loves me so much, and who—an indispensable requirement—is so entirely absorbed in my personality.

At Lassalle's request, Helen herself wrote thus to the Baroness von Hatzfeldt:—

DEAR AND BELOVED COUNTESS,—

Armed with an introduction from my lord and master, I, his affianced wife, come to you—unhappily only in writing—le coeur et la main ouverte, and beg of you a little of that friendship which you have given to him so abundantly. How deeply do I regret that your illness separates us, that I cannot tell you face to face how much I love and honour him, how ardently I long for your help and advice as to how I can best make my beautiful and noble eagle happy. This my first letter must necessarily seem somewhat constrained to you; for I am an insignificant, unimportant being, who can do nothing but love and honour him, and strive to make him happy. I would fain dance and sing like a child, and drive away all care from him. My one desire is to understand his great and noble nature, and in good fortune and in bad to stand faithful and true by his side.

Then followed a further appeal for the love and help of this friend of Lassalle's early years. It was all in vain. Instead of a letter, Helen received from the Countess what she called "a scrawl," and Lassalle a long homily on his lack of judgment and foresight. Lassalle defended himself, and so the not too pleasing correspondence went on.

Yet these days in Berne were the happiest in the lives of Lassalle and his betrothed. Helen was staying with a Madame Aarson, and was constantly visited by her lover. It was agreed between them that Lassalle should follow her to Geneva, and see her parents. But no sooner had he entered his room at the Pension Leovet, in the neighbourhood of the house of Herr von Donniges, than a servant handed him a letter from Helen. It told how on her arrival she had found the whole house excited by the betrothal of her sister Margaret to Count von Keyserling. Her mother's delight in the engagement had tempted her (contrary to Lassalle's express wish) to confidences, and she had told of her love for the arch-agitator. Her mother had turned upon her with loathing, execrated Lassalle without stint, spoken scornfully of the Countess, the casket robbery, and kindred matters. "It is quite impossible," urged the frantic woman, "that Count Keyserling will unite himself to a family with a connexion of this kind." The father joined in the upbraiding, the disowning of an undutiful daughter. One has but to remember the vulgar, tradesman instinct, which then, as now, guides the marriage ideals of a certain class, to take in the whole situation at a glance.

Lassalle had hardly begun to read the letter when Helen appeared before him, and begged him to take her away immediately—to France—anywhere! Her father's violence, her mother's abuse, had driven her to despair.

Lassalle was indignant with her. Why had she not obeyed him? He would speak to her father. All would yet be well. But—she was compromised there—at his hotel. Had she a friend in the neighbourhood?

At this moment her maid came in to say that there was a carriage ready to take them to the station. A train would start for Paris in a quarter of an hour. Helen renewed her entreaty, but Lassalle remained resolute. He would only receive her from her father. To what friend could he take her? Helen named Madame Caroline Rognon, who beheld them with astonishment.

A few minutes later Frau von Donniges and her daughter Margaret entered the house. Then followed a disagreeable scene between Lassalle and the mother, ending, after many scornful words thrown at the ever self-restrained lover, in Helen being carried off before his eyes—indeed, by his wish. Lassalle had shown dignity and self-restraint, but he had killed the girl's love—until it was too late.

Duhring speaks of Lassalle's "inconceivable stupidity," and there is a great temptation at this date, with all the circumstances before us, to look at the matter with Duhring's eyes. But to one whom Heine had called a Messiah, whom Humboldt had termed a "Wunderkind," and Bismarck had greeted as among the greatest men of the age, it may well have seemed flatly inconceivable that this insignificant little Swiss diplomatist could long refuse the alliance he proposed. Yet stronger and more potent may have been the feeling—although of this there is no positive evidence extant—that the social movement which he had so much at heart could not well endure a further scandal. The Hatzfeldt story had been used against him frequently enough. An elopement—so sweetly romantic under some circumstances—would have been the ruin of his great political reputation.

Lassalle speedily regretted his course of action—what man in love would not have done so?—but his first impulse was consistent with the life of strenuous effort for the cause he had embraced. To a romantic girl, however, his conduct could but seem brutal and treacherous. Helen had done more than enough. She had compromised herself irretrievably, and an immediate marriage was imperatively demanded by the conventionalities. She was, however, seized by a brutal father and confined to her room, until she understood that Lassalle had left Geneva. Then the entreaties of her family, the representation that her sister's marriage, even her father's position, were in jeopardy, caused her to declare that she would abandon Lassalle.

At this point the story is conflicting. Helen herself says that she never saw Lassalle again after he had handed her over to her mother, and that after a long period of ill-usage and petty persecution, she was hurried one night across the lake. Becker, however, declares that as Lassalle and his friend Rustow were walking in Geneva a carriage passed them on the way to the station containing Helen and another lady, and that Helen acknowledged their salute. Anyway, it is clear that Helen went to Bex on August 9, and that Lassalle left Geneva on the 13th. Letter after letter was sent by Lassalle to Helen—one from Karlsruhe on the 15th, and one from Munich on the 19th, but no answer. In Karlsruhe, according to von Hofstetten, Lassalle wept like a child. His correspondence with the Countess and with Colonel Rustow becomes forcible in its demands for assistance. Writing to Rustow, he tells of a two hours' conversation with the Bavarian Minister for Foreign Affairs, Baron von Schrenk, who assures him of his sympathy, says that he cannot understand the objections of von Donniges, and that in similar circumstances he would be proud of the alliance, although he deprecated the political views of Lassalle. Finally this accommodating Minister of State—here, at least, the tragi-comedy is but too apparent—engages to send a lawyer, Dr. Haenle, as an official commissioner to negotiate with the obdurate father and refractory ambassador.

Richard Wagner, the great composer, the Bishop of Mayence, and noblemen, generals, and scholars without number were also pressed into the service, but in vain. The treachery of intimate friends more than counterbalanced all that could be achieved by well-meaning strangers. If Helen is to be believed—and the charge is not denied—Lassalle's friend Holthoff, sent to negotiate in his favour, entreated her to abandon Lassalle, and to comply with her parents' wishes. Lassalle, he declared, was not in any way a suitable husband, and her father had decided wisely. The poor girl lived in a constant atmosphere of petty persecution. Her father, she was told, might lose his post in the Bavarian service if she married this Socialist, her brother would have absolutely no career open to him, her sisters could not marry in their own rank of life; in fact, the whole family were alleged to be entirely unhappy and miserable through her stubbornness. The following letter—obviously dictated—was the not unnatural outcome:—

TO HERR LASSALLE.

SIR,—

I have again become reconciled to my betrothed bridegroom, Herr Yanko von Racowitza, whose love I have regained, and I deeply repent my earlier action. I have given notice of this to your legal representative, Herr Holthoff, and I now declare to you of my own free will and firm conviction, that there never can be any further question of a marriage between us, and that I hold myself in all respects to be released from such an engagement. I am now firmly resolved to devote to my aforesaid betrothed bridegroom my eternal love and fidelity.

HELENE VON DONNIGES.

This letter came through Rustow, and Lassalle addressed the following reply to Helen, which, however, she never received—it came in fact into the possession of the Countess—a sufficient commentary on the duplicity and the false friendship not only of Holthoff, but of Colonel Rustow and the Countess Hatzfeldt in this sad affair.

MUNICH, Aug. 20, 1864.

HELEN,—

My heart is breaking! Rustow's letter will kill me. That you have betrayed me seems impossible! Even now I cannot believe in such shamelessness, in such frightful treachery. It is only for a moment that some one has overridden your will and obliterated your true self. It is inconceivable that this can be your real, your abiding determination. You cannot have thrown aside all shame, all love, all fidelity, all truth. If you did, you would dishonour and disfigure humanity. There can be no truth left in the world if you are false, if you are capable of descending to this depth of abandonment, of breaking such holy oaths, of crushing my heart. Then there is nothing more under the sun in which a man can still believe.

Have you not filled me with a longing to possess you? Have you not implored me to exhaust all proper measures, before carrying you away from Wabern? Have you not by your own lips and by your letters, sworn to me the most sacred oaths? Have you not declared to me, even in your last letters, that you were nothing, nothing but my loving wife, and that no power on earth should stay your resolution? And now, after you have bound this true heart of mine to yourself so strongly, this heart which when once it gives itself away gives itself for ever; now, when the battle has scarcely begun, do you cast me off? Do you betray me? Do you destroy me? If so, you succeed in doing what else no fate can do; you will have crushed and shattered one of the hardest of men, who could withstand unflinchingly all outward storms. No, I can never survive such treachery. It will kill me inwardly and outwardly. It is not possible that you are so dishonourable, so shameless, so reckless of duty, so utterly unworthy and infamous. If you were, you would deserve of me the most deadly hatred. You would deserve the contempt of the world. Helen, it is not your own resolution which you have communicated to Rustow. Some one has fastened it upon you by a coercion of your better feelings. Listen to me. If you abide by this resolution, you will lament it as long as you live.

Helen, true to my words, "Je me charge du reste," I shall stay here, and shall take all possible steps to break down your father's opposition. I have already excellent means in my hand, which will certainly not remain unused, and if they do not succeed, I shall still possess thousands of other means, and I will grind all hindrances to dust if you will but remain true to me. If you remain true, there is no limit to my strength or to my love of you, Je me charge toujours du reste! The battle is hardly begun, you cowardly girl. But can it be, that while I sit here, and have already achieved what seemed impossible, you are betraying me, and listening to the flattering words of another man? Helen, my fate is in your hands! But if you destroy me by this wicked treachery, from which I cannot recover, then may evil fall upon you, and my curse follow you to the grave! This is the curse of a true heart, of a heart that you wantonly break, and with which you have cruelly trifled. Yes, this curse of mine will surely strike you.

According to Rustow's message, you want your letters to be returned to you. In any case, you will never receive them otherwise than from me—after a personal interview. For I must and will speak to you personally, and to you alone. I must and will hear my death-doom from your own lips. It is only thus that I can believe what otherwise seems impossible to me.

I am continuing here to take further steps to win you, and when I have done all that is possible, I shall come to Geneva. Helen, our destinies are entwined!

F. LASSALLE. {213}

It is pitiable to realize the amount of false or imperfect friendship which led Lassalle on to his ruin. Rustow was false, and Holthoff was false, if it were not rather that both looked upon Lassalle's affection for this girl, half his age, as a mad freak to be cured and forgotten. More might have been expected from the Countess, to whom Lassalle had given so much pure and disinterested devotion; but here again, a sense of maternal ownership in Lassalle was sufficient to justify, in such a woman, any means to keep him apart from this fancy of the hour. To the Countess, however, Helen had turned for help, and had received a note which had but enraged her, and made the breach between her and Lassalle yet wider. In the after years, Helen published one letter and the Countess another as the actual reply of the Countess to Helen's appeal, and the truth will now never be known. Meanwhile Dr. Arndt, a nephew of von Donniges, had gone to Berlin to fetch Yanko von Racowitza. Of Yanko Helen has herself given us a pleasant picture, as the one man for whom she really cared until the overwhelming presence of Lassalle appeared upon the scene, as her one friend during her persecution. Absent from Lassalle's influence, it was not strange that the delicate Wallachian—even younger than herself and the slave of her every whim—should have an influence in her life. Had Lassalle, however, had yet another personal interview with her, there can scarcely be a doubt that she would have been as he had once said, "as clay in the hands of the potter"—but this was not to be. Lassalle came back to Geneva on August 23, and immediately wrote an earnest letter to Herr von Donniges, begging for an interview, and stating that he had not the least enmity towards him for what had happened. With the fear of the Foreign Minister at Munich before his eyes Helen's father could not well refuse again, and the interview took place. Lassalle, according to von Donniges, demanded that Yanko von Racowitza should be forbidden the house, while he himself should have ready access to Helen. He further charged von Donniges with cruelty to his daughter, and was called a liar to his face, while even the cook was called upon the scene to give her evidence as to the domestic ethics of this family circle. The letter of von Donniges to Dr. Haenle was clearly meant to be shown to the Foreign Minister, and the wily diplomatist naturally took the opportunity both to justify himself and to vilify Lassalle. Then began a painful dispute as to whether Herr von Donniges had ill-used his daughter; the overwhelming evidence, which includes the testimony of that daughter, written long after her father's death, tending to prove the truth of Lassalle's allegation. Lassalle meanwhile found no opportunity of approaching Helen, and having every reason to believe that she was entirely faithless, gave up the struggle. He referred to the girl in language characteristic of a despairing and jilted lover, and sent von Donniges a challenge, although many years before, in a political controversy, he had declined to fight—on principle. His seconds were to be General Becker and Colonel Rustow, and the latter has left us a long account of the affair.

On the appointed day, August 22, Rustow went everywhere to look for Herr von Donniges, but the minister had fled to Berne. Rustow then saw Lassalle at the rooms of the Countess von Hatzfeldt. Lassalle mentioned that he had that morning had his challenge accepted by von Racowitza, whose seconds were Count Keyserling and Dr. Arndt. Rustow insisted, both to Lassalle and to Racowitza's friends, that von Donniges should have priority, but was overruled; and it was agreed that the duel should be fought that very evening. Rustow protested that he could not find another second in so short a time—General Becker does not seem to have been available—but at length it was arranged that General Bethlem should be asked to fill the office, and that the duel should take place on the following morning, August 28. There seems to have been considerable difficulty in finding suitable pistols, and at the last moment General Bethlem declined to be a second, and Herr von Hofstetten consented to act. Rustow called upon Lassalle at the Victoria Hotel at five o'clock. At half-past six the party started for Carouge, a village in the neighbourhood of Geneva, which they reached an hour later. Lassalle was quite cheerful, and perfectly confident that he would come unharmed out of the conflict. The opponents faced one another and Racowitza wounded Lassalle, who was carried by Rustow and Dr. Seiler to a coach, and thence to the Victoria Hotel, Geneva. He suffered dreadfully both then and afterwards, and was only relieved by a plentiful use of opium. Three days later, on Wednesday, August 31, 1864, he died.

Was it the chance shot of a delicate boy that killed one of the most remarkable men of the nineteenth century, or was it a planned attack upon one who loved the people? This last view was taken and is still taken by many of his followers; but it is needless to say that it has no foundation in fact. Lassalle was killed by a chance shot, and killed in a duel which had not even the doubtful justification of hatred of his opponent. "Count me no longer as a rival; for you I have nothing but friendship," were the words written to Racowitza at the moment that he challenged von Donniges, and he declared on his death-bed that he died by his own hand.

The revolutionists of all lands assembled around his dead body, which was embalmed by order of the Countess. This woman talked loudly of vengeance, called not only von Racowitza but Helen a murderer, {218} little thinking that posterity would judge her more hardly than Helen. She proposed to take the corpse in solemn procession through Germany; but an order from the Prussian Government disturbed her plans, and at Breslau, Lassalle's native town, it was allowed to rest. Lassalle is buried in the family vault in the Jewish Cemetery, and a simple monument bears the inscription:

HERE RESTS WHAT IS MORTAL OF FERDINAND LASSALLE, THE THINKER AND THE FIGHTER.

To understand the whole tragedy and to justify its great victim is to feel something of the strain which comes to every thinker and fighter who, like Lassalle, writes and speaks persistently to vast audiences, often against great odds, and always with the prospect of a prison before him. That his nerves were utterly unstrung, that he was not his real self in those last days, is but too evident. Armed, as he claimed, with the entire culture of his century, a maker of history if ever there was one, he became the victim of a love drama which I suppose that Mr. Matthew Arnold would describe as of the surgeon's apprentice order: but which, apart from his political creed, will always endear him to men and women who have "lived and loved."

And what shall we say of Helen von Donniges? Her own story is surely one of the most romantic ever written. In My Relation to Ferdinand Lassalle, she tells how Yanko broke to her the news that he was going to fight Lassalle, and how much she grieved. "Lassalle will inevitably kill Yanko," she thought; and she pitied him, but her pity was not without calculation. "When Yanko is dead and they bring his body here, there will be a stir in the house," she said, "and I can then fly to Lassalle." But the hours flew by, and finally Yanko came to tell her that he had wounded his opponent. For the moment, and indeed until after Lassalle's death, she hated her successful lover; but a little later his undoubted goodness, his tenderness and patience, won her heart. They were married, but he died within a year, of consumption. Being disowned by her relations, Helen then settled in Berlin, and studied for the stage. She herself relates how at Breslau on one occasion, when acting a boy's part in one of Moser's comedies, some of Lassalle's oldest friends being present remarked upon her likeness to Lassalle in his youth, a resemblance on which she and Lassalle had more than once prided themselves. At a later date Frau von Racowitza married a Russian Socialist, S. E. Shevitch, then resident in America. M. Shevitch returned to Russia a few years after this and lived with his wife at Riga. Those who have seen Madame Shevitch describe her as one of the most fascinating women they have ever met. She and her husband were very happy in their married life. Madame Shevitch is now living in Munich. Our great novelist and poet George Meredith has immortalized her in his Tragic Comedians.



VIII. LORD ACTON'S LIST OF THE HUNDRED BEST BOOKS

Every one has heard of Lord Avebury's (Sir John Lubbock's) Hundred Best Books, not every one of Lord Acton's. It is the privilege of the Pall Mall Magazine {225} to publish this latter list, the final impression as to reading of one of the most scholarly men that England has known in our time. The list in question is, as it were, an omitted chapter of a book that was one of the successes of its year—The Letters of Lord Acton to Miss Mary Gladstone—published by Mr. George Allen. That series of letters made very pleasant reading. They showed Lord Acton not as a Dryasdust, but as a very human personage indeed, with sympathies invariably in the right place.

Nor can his literary interests be said to have been restricted, for he read history and biography with avidity, and probably knew more of theology than any other layman of modern times. In imaginative literature, however, his critical instinct was perhaps less keen. He called Heine "a bad second to Schiller in poetry," which is absurd; and he thought George Eliot the greatest of modern novelists. In arriving at the latter judgment he had the excuse of personal friendship and admiration for a woman whose splendid intellectual gifts were undeniable.

In one letter we find Lord Acton discussing with Miss Gladstone the eternal question of the hundred best books. Sir John Lubbock had complained to her of the lack of a guide or supreme authority on the choice of books. Lord Acton had replied that, "although he had something to learn on the graver side of human knowledge," Sir John would execute his own scheme better than almost anybody. We all know that Sir John Lubbock attempted this at a lecture delivered at the Great Ormond Street Working Men's College; that that lecture has been reprinted again and again in a book entitled The Pleasures of Life, and that the publishers have sold more than two hundred thousand copies—a kind of success that might almost make some of our popular novelists turn green with envy. Later on in the correspondence Lord Acton quoted one of the popes, who said that "fifty books would include every good idea in the world." "But," continued Lord Acton, "literature has doubled since then, and it would be hard to do without a hundred."

Lord Acton was possessed of the happy thought that he would like some of his friends and acquaintances each to name his ideal hundred best books—as for example Bishop Lightfoot, Dean Church, Dean Stanley, Canon Liddon, Professor Max Muller, Mr. J. R. Lowell, Professor E. A. Freeman, Mr. W. E. H. Lecky, Mr. John Morley, Sir Henry Maine, the Duke of Argyll, Lord Tennyson, Cardinal Newman, Mr. Gladstone, Matthew Arnold, Professor Goldwin Smith, Mr. R. H. Hutton, Mr. Mark Pattison, and Mr. J. A. Symonds. Strange to say, he thought there would be a surprising agreement between these writers as to which were the hundred best books. I am all but certain, however, that there would not have been more than twenty books in common between rival schools of thought—the secular and the ecclesiastical—between, let us say, Mr. John Morley and Cardinal Newman. But it is probable that not one of these eminent men would have furnished a list with any similarity whatever to the remainder. Each would have written down his own hundred favourites, and herein may be admitted is an evidence of the futility of all such attempts. The best books are the books that have helped us most to see life in all its complex bearings, and each individual needs a particular kind of mental food quite unlike the diet that best stimulates his neighbour. Writing more than a year later, Lord Acton said that he had just drawn out a list of recommended authors for his son, as being the company he would like him to keep; but this list is not available—it is not the one before me. That was compiled yet another twelve months afterwards, when we find Lord Acton sending to Miss Mary Gladstone (Mrs. Drew) his own ideal "hundred best books." This list is now printed for the first time. Evidently Miss Gladstone remonstrated with her friend over the character of the list; but Lord Acton defended it as being in his judgment really the hundred best books, apart from works on physical science—that it treated of principles that every thoughtful man ought to understand, and was calculated, in fact, to give one a clear view of the various forces that make history. "We are not considering," he adds, "what will suit an untutored savage or an illiterate peasant woman, who would never come to an end of the Imitation."

However, here is Lord Acton's list, which Mrs. Drew has been kind enough to place in the hands of the Editor of the Pall Mall Magazine. I give also Lord Acton's comment with which it opens, and I add in footnotes one or two facts about each of the authors:

* * * * *

"In answer to the question: Which are the hundred best books in the world?

"Supposing any English youth, whose education is finished, who knows common things, and is not training for a profession.

"To perfect his mind and open windows in every direction, to raise him to the level of his age so that he may know the (20 or 30) forces that have made our world what it is and still reign over it, to guard him against surprises and against the constant sources of error within, to supply him both with the strongest stimulants and the surest guides, to give force and fullness and clearness and sincerity and independence and elevation and generosity and serenity to his mind, that he may know the method and law of the process by which error is conquered and truth is won, discerning knowledge from probability and prejudice from belief, that he may learn to master what he rejects as fully as what he adopts, that he may understand the origin as well as the strength and vitality of systems and the better motive of men who are wrong, to steel him against the charm of literary beauty and talent; so that each book, thoroughly taken in, shall be the beginning of a new life, and shall make a new man of him—this list is submitted":—

1. Plato—Laws—Steinhart's Introduction. {230a}

2. Aristotle—Politics—Susemihl's Commentary. {230b}

3. Epictetus—Encheiridion—Commentary of Simplicius. {230c}

4. St. Augustine—Letters. {230d}

5. St. Vincent's Commonitorium. {231a}

6. Hugo of S. Victor—De Sacramentis. {231b}

7. St. Bonaventura—Breviloquium. {231c}

8. St. Thomas Aquinas—Summa contra Gentiles. {231d}

9. Dante—Divina Commedia. {232a}

10. Raymund of Sabunde—Theologia Naturalis. {232b}

11. Nicholas of Cusa—Concordantia Catholica. {232c}

12. Edward Reuss—The Bible. {232d}

13. Pascal's Pensees—Havet's Edition. {233a}

14. Malebranche, De la Recherche de la Verite. {233b}

15. Baader—Speculative Dogmatik. {233c}

16. Molitor—Philosophie der Geschichte. {233d}

17. Astie—Esprit de Vinet. {233e}

18. Punjer—Geschichte der Religions-philosophie. {234a}

19. Rothe—Theologische Ethik. {234b}

20. Martensen—Die Christliche Ethik. {234c}

21. Oettingen—Moralstatistik. {234d}

22. Hartmann—Phanomenologie des sittlichen Bewusstseins. {234e}

23. Leibniz—Letters edited by Klopp. {235a}

24. Brandis—Geschichte der Philosophie. {235b}

25. Fischer—Franz Bacon. {235c}

26. Zeller—Neuere Deutsche Philosophie. {235d}

27. Bartholomess—Doctrines Religieuses de la Philosophie Moderns. {236a}

28. Guyon—Morale Anglaise. {236b}

29. Ritschl—Entstehung der Altkatholischen Kirche. {236c}

30. Loening—Geschichte des Kirchenrechts. {236d}

31. Baur—Vorlesungen uber Dogmengeschichte. {237a}

32. Fenelon—Correspondence. {237b}

33. Newman's Theory of Development. {237c}

34. Mozley's University Sermons. {237d}

35. Schneckenburger—Vergleichende Darstellung. {238a}

36. Hundeshagen—Kirckenvorfassungsgeschichte. {238b}

37. Schweizer—Protestantische Centraldogmen. {238c}

38. Gass—Geschichte der Lutherischen Dogmatik. {238d}

39. Cart—Histoire du Mouvement Religieux dans le Canton de Vaud. {238e}

40. Blondel—De la Primaute. {239a}

41. Le Blanc de Beaulieu—Theses. {239b}

42. Thiersch.—Vorlesungen uber Katholizismus. {239c}

43. Mohler—Neue Untersuchungen. {239d}

44. Scherer—Melanges de Critique Religieuse. {240a}

45. Hooker—Ecclesiastical Polity. {240b}

46. Weingarten—Revolutionskirchen Englands. {240c}

47. Kliefoth—Acht Bucher von der Kirche. {240d}

48. Laurent—Etudes de l'Histoire de l'Humanite. {240e}

49. Ferrari—Revolutions de l'ltalie. {241a}

50. Lange—Geschichte des Materialismus. {241b}

51. Guicciardini—Ricordi Politici. {241c}

52. Duperron—Ambassades. {241d}

53. Richelieu—Testament Politique. {242a}

54. Harrington's Writings. {242b}

55. Mignet—Negotiations de la Succession d'Espagne. {242c}

56. Rousseau—Considerations sur la Pologne. {243a}

57. Foncin—Ministere de Turgot. {243b}

58. Burke's Correspondence. {243c}

59. Las Cases—Memorial de Ste. Helene. {243d}

60. Holtzendorff—Systematische Rechtsenzyklopadie. {244a}

61. Jhering—Geist des Romischen Rechts. {244b}

62. Geib—Strafrecht. {244c}

63. Maine—Ancient Law. {245a}

64. Gierke—Genossenschaftsrecht. {245b}

65. Stahl—Philosophie des Rechts. {245c}

66. Gentz—Briefwechsel mit Adam Muller. {246a}

67. Vollgraff—Polignosie. {246b}

68. Frantz—Kritik aller Parteien. {246c}

69. De Maistre—Considerations sur la France. {246d}

70. Donoso Cortes—Ecrits Politiques. {247a}

71. Perin—De la Richesse dans les Societes Chretiennes. {247b}

72. Le Play—La Reforme Sociale. {247c}

73. Riehl—Die Burgerliche Sociale. {247d}

74. Sismondi—Etudes sur les Constitutions des Peuples Libres. {248a}

75. Rossi—Cours du Droit Constitutionnel. {248b}

76. Barante—Vie de Royer Collard. {248c}

77. Duvergier de Hauranne—Histoire du Gouvernement Parlementaire. {249a}

78. Madison—Debates of the Congress of Confederation. {249b}

79. Hamilton—The Federalist. {249c}

80. Calhoun—Essay on Government. {249d}

81. Dumont—Sophismes Anarchiques. {250a}

82. Quinet—La Revolution Francaise. {250b}

83. Stein—Sozialismus in Frankreich. {250c}

84. Lassalle—System der Erworbenen Rechte. {251a}

85. Thonissen—Le Socialisme depuis l'Antiquite. {251b}

86. Considerant—Destines Sociale. {251c}

87. Roscher—Nationalokonomik. {251d}

89. Mill—System of Logic. {251e}

90. Coleridge—Aids to Reflection. {252a}

91. Radowitz—Fragmente. {252b}

92. Gioberti—Pensieri. {252c}

93. Humboldt—Kosmos. {253a}

94. De Candolle—Histoire des Sciences et des Savants. {253b}

95. Darwin—Origin of Species. {253c}

96. Littre—Fragments de Philosophie. {253d}

97. Cournot—Enchainements des Idees fondamentales. {253e}

98. Monatschriften der wissenschaftlichen Vereine. {254}

This list, written in 1883 in Miss Gladstone's (Mrs. Drew's) Diary, must always have an interest in the history of the human mind.

But my readers will, I imagine, for the most part, agree with me that there are others besides untutored savages and illiterate peasant women to whom such a list is entirely impracticable. It indicates the enormous preference which on the whole Lord Acton gave to the Literature of Knowledge over the Literature of Power, to use De Quincey's famous distinction. With the exception of Dante's Divine Comedy there is practically not a single book that has any title whatever to a place in the Literature of Power, a literature which many of us think the only thing in the world of books worth consideration. Great philosophy is here, and high thought. Who would for a moment wish to disparage St. Bonaventure, the Seraphic Doctor, or Aquinas the Angelic? Plato and Pascal, Malebranche and Fenelon, Bossuet and Machiavelli are all among the world's immortals. Yet now and again we are bewildered by finding the least important book of a well-known author—as for example Rousseau's Poland instead of the Confessions and Coleridge's Aids to Reflection instead of the Poems or the Biographia Literaria. Think of an historian whose ideal of historical work was so high that he despised all who worked only from printed documents, selecting the Memorial of St. Helena of Las Casas in preference not only to a hundred- and-one similar compilations concerning Napoleon's exile, but in preference to Thucydides, Herodotus and Gibbon.

Sometimes Lord Acton names a theologian who is absolutely out-of-date, at others a philosopher who is in the same case. But on the whole it is a fascinating list as an index to what a well-trained mind thought the noblest mental equipment for life's work. At the best, it is true, it would represent but one half of life. But then Lord Acton recognized this when he asked that men should be "steeled against the charm of literary beauty and talent," and he was assuming in any case that all the books in aesthetic literature, the best poetry and the best history had already been read, as he undoubtedly had read them.

"The charm of literary beauty and talent!" There is the whole question. Nothing really matters for the average man, so far as books are concerned, but this charm, and I am criticizing Lord Acton's list for the average man. The student who has got beyond it need not worry himself about classified lists. He may read his Plato, and Aristotle, his Pascal and Newman, his Christian apologists and German theologians, as he wills; or he may read in some other quite different direction. Guidance is impossible to a mind at such a stage of cultivation as Lord Acton had in view.

Only minds at a more primitive stage of culture than this most learned and most accomplished man seemed able to conceive of, could be bettered by advice as to reading. Given, indeed, contact with some superior mind, which out of its rich equipment of culture should advise as to the books that might be most profitably read, I could imagine advice being helpful. It would be of no value, it is true, to an untutored savage or illiterate peasant, but to a youth fresh from school-books and much modern fiction, to a young girl about to enter upon life in its more serious aspects, it would be immensely serviceable. It was of such as these that Mr. Ruskin thought when he wrote of "King's Treasures" in Sesame and Lilies, and the same idea was doubtless in Sir John Lubbock's mind when he lectured on the "Hundred Best Books." But Lord Avebury's list had its limitations, it seems to me, for any one who has an interest in good literature and guidance to the reading thereof. To give "Scott" as one book and "Shakspere" as another was I suggest to shirk much responsibility of selection. Scott is a whole library, Shakspere is yet another. One may give "Keats" or "Shelley" because they are more limited in quantity. Even to name novels by Charles Kingsley and Bulwer Lytton in this select hundred was to demonstrate to men of this generation that Lord Avebury being of an earlier one had a bias in favour of the books that we are all outgrowing. To include Mill's Logic is to ignore the Time Spirit acting on philosophy; to include Tennyson's Idylls its action on poetry. Mill and Tennyson will always live in literature but not I think by these books.

But the fact is that there is no possibility of naming the hundred best books. No one could quarrel with Lord Avebury if he had named these as his hundred own favourites among the books of the world. Still, it might have been his hundred; it could not possibly have been any one else's hundred because every man of education must make his own choice. No! the naming of the hundred best books for any large, general audience is quite impossible. All that is possible in such a connexion is to state emphatically that there are very few books that are equally suitable to every kind of intellect. Temperament as well as intellectual endowment make for so much in reading. Take, for example, the Imitation of Christ. George Eliot, although not a Christian, found it soul-satisfying. Thackeray, as I think a more robust intellect, found it well nigh as mischievous as did Eugene Sue, whose anathematizations in his novel The Wandering Jew are remembered by all. Other books that have been the outcome of piety of mind leave less room for difference of opinion. Surely Dante's Divine Comedy, and Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, make an universal appeal. That universal appeal is the point at which alone guidance is possible. There are great books that can be read only by the few, but surely the very greatest appeal alike to the educated and the illiterate, to the man of rich intellectual endowment and to the man to whom all processes of reasoning are incomprehensible. Hamlet is a wonderful test of this quality. It "holds the boards" at the small provincial theatre, it is enacted by Mr. Crummles to an illiterate peasantry, and it is performed by the greatest actor to the most select city audience. It is made the subject of study by learned commentators. It is world-embracing.

Are there in the English language, including translations, a hundred books that stand the test as Hamlet stands it? No two men would make the same list of books that answer to this demand of an universal appeal, and obviously each nation must make its own list. Mine is for English boys and girls just growing into manhood and womanhood, or for those who have had no educational advantages in early years. I exclude living writers, and I give the hundred in four groups.



POETRY.

1. The Bible. {260a}

2. The Odyssey, translated by Butcher and Lang. {260b}

3. The Iliad, translated by Lang, Leaf and Myers. {260b}

4. Aeschylus, translated by George Warr. {261a}

5. Sophocles, translated by J. S. Phillimore. {261a}

6. Euripides, translated by Gilbert Murray. {261a}

7. Virgil, translated by Dryden. {261b}

8. Catullus, translated by Theodore Martin. {261c}

9. Horace, translated by Theodore Martin. {261d}

10. Dante, translated by Cary. {262a}

11. Shakspere, Hamlet. {262b}

12. Chaucer, Canterbury Tales. {262c}

13. FitzGerald, Omar Khayyam. {263a}

14. Goethe, Faust. {263b}

15. Shelley. {263c}

16. Byron. {263d}

17. Wordsworth. {264a}

18. Keats. {264b}

19. Burns. {264c}

20. Coleridge. {264d}

21. Cowper. {264e}

22. Crabbe. {265a}

23. Tennyson. {265b}

24. Browning. {265c}

25. Milton. {265d}



FICTION.

1. The Arabian Nights Entertainment. {266a}

2. Don Quixote, by Cervantes. {266b}

3. Pilgrim's Progress, by Bunyan. {266c}

4. Robinson Crusoe, by Defoe. {266d}

5. Gulliver's Travels, by Swift. {267a}

6. Clarissa, by Richardson. {267b}

7. Tom Jones, by Fielding. {267c}

8. Rasselas, by Johnson. {267d}

9. Vicar of Wakefield, by Goldsmith. {268a}

10. Sentimental Journey, by Sterne. {268b}

11. Nightmare Abbey, by Peacock. {268c}

12. Kenilworth, by Walter Scott. {268d}

13. Pere Goriot, by Balzac. {268e}

14. The Three Musketeers, by Dumas. {269a}

15. Vanity Fair, by Thackeray. {269b}

16. Villette, by Charlotte Bronte. {269c}

17. David Copperfield, by Charles Dickens. {269d}

18. Barchester Towers, by Anthony Trollope. {269e}

19. Boccaccio's Decameron. {269f}

20. Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte. {270a}

21. The Cloister and the Hearth, by Charles Reade. {270b}

22. Les Miserables, by Victor Hugo. {270c}

23. Cranford, by Mrs. Gaskell. {270d}

24. Consuelo, by George Sand. {270e}

25. Charles O'Malley, by Charles Lever. {270f}



MISCELLANEOUS. HISTORY, ESSAYS, ETC.

1. Macaulay, History of England. {271a}

2. Carlyle, Past and Present. {271b}

3. Motley, Dutch Republic. {271c}

4. Gibbon, Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. {271d}

5. Plutarch's Lives. {272a}

6. Montaigne's Essays. {272b}

7. Richard Steele, Essays. {272c}

8. Lamb, Essays of Elia. {272d}

9. De Quincey, Opium Eater. {272e}

10. Hazlitt, Essays. {273a}

11. Borrow, Lavengro. {273b}

12. Emerson, Representative Men. {273c}

13. Landor, Imaginary Conversations. {273d}

14. Arnold, Essays in Criticism. {273e}

15. Herodotus, Macaulay's Translation. {273f}

16. Howell's Familiar Letters. {274a}

17. Buckle's History of Civilization. {274b}

18. Tacitus, Church and Brodribb's Translation. {274c}

19. Mitford's Our Village. {274d}

20. Green's Short History of the English People. {274e}

21. Taine, Ancient Regime. {275a}

22. Bourrienne, Napoleon. {275b}

23. Tocqueville, Democracy in America. {275c}

24. Walton, Compleat Angler. {275d}

25 White, Natural History of Selbourne. {276a}



BIOGRAPHICAL AND AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL.

1. Boswell's Johnson. {276b}

2. Lockhart's Scott. {276c}

3. Pepys's Diary. {276d}

4. Walpole's Letters. {277a}

5. The Memoirs of Count de Gramont. {277b}

6. Gray's Letters. {277c}

7. Southey's Nelson. {277d}

8. Moore's Byron. {277e}

9. Hogg's Shelley. {278a}

10. Rousseau's Confessions. {278b}

11. Froude's Carlyle. {278c}

12. Rogers's Table Talk. {279a}

13. Confessions of St. Augustine. {279b}

14. Amiel's Journal. {279c}

15. Meditations of Marcus Aurelius. {279d}

16. Lewes's Life of Goethe. {279e}

17. Sime's Life of Lessing. {280a}

18. Franklin's Autobiography. {280b}

19. Greville's Memoirs. {280c}

20. Forster's Life of Dickens. {280d}

21. Madame D'Arblay's Diary. {280e}

22. Newman's Apologia. {281a}

23. The Paston Letters. {281b}

24. Cellini's Autobiography. {281c}

25. Browne's Religio Medici. {281d}

My readers for the most part have read every one of these books. I throw out this list as a tentative effort in the direction of suggesting a hundred books with which to start a library. The young student will find much to amuse, and certainly nothing here to bore him. These books will not make him a prig, as Mr. James Payn said that Lord Avebury's list would make him a prig. They will make the dull man less dull, the bright man brighter. Here is good, cheerful, robust reading for boy and girl, for man and woman. There are many sins of omission, but none of commission. Our young friend will add to this list fast enough, but there is nothing in it that he may not read with profit. These books, I repeat, make an universal appeal. The learned man may enjoy them, the unlearned may enjoy them also. They are, as Hamlet is, of universal interest. Devotion to science will not impair a taste for them, nor will zest for abstract speculations. Not even those who are "better skilled in grammar than in poetry" can fail to appreciate. These hundred books will in the main be the hundred best books of many of my readers who are quite capable of selecting for themselves. One last word of advice. Let not the young reader buy large quantities of books at once or be beguiled into subscribing for some cheap series which will save him the trouble of selecting. He may buy many books from such cheap series afterwards, but not his first hundred, I think. These should be acquired through much saving, and purchased with great thought and deliberation. The purchase of a book should become to the young book-lover a most solemn function.

Butler and Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London



Footnotes:

{3} Richard Garnett (1835-1906) was son of the philologist of the same name who was for a time priest-vicar of Lichfield Cathedral. He attended the Johnson Celebration on Sept. 18, 1905, and proposed "the Immortal Memory of Dr. Johnson." He died on the following Good Friday, April 13, and was buried in Highgate Cemetery April 17, 1906.

{6} Anna Seward (1747-1809). Her works were published after her death:—The Poetical Works of Anna Seward. With Extracts from her Literary Correspondence. Edited by Walter Scott, Esq. In three volumes—John Ballantyne & Co., 1810. Letters of Anna Seward written between the Years 1784 and 1807. In six volumes. Archibald Constable & Co., 1811. "Longwinded and florid" one biographer calls her letters, but by the aid of what Scott calls 'the laudable practice of skipping' they are quite entertaining.

{8} Sir Robert Thomas White-Thomson, K.C.B., wrote to me in reference to this estimate of Miss Seward from Broomford Manor, Exbourne, North Devon, and his letter seemed of sufficient importance from a genealogical standpoint for me to ask his permission to make an extract from the letter: "I have read your address in a Lichfield newspaper. Apart from the wider and more important bearings of your words, those which had reference to the Seward family were especially welcome to me. You will understand this when I tell you that, with the exception of the Romney portrait of Anna, and a few other objects left 'away' by her will, my grandfather, Thomas White, of Lichfield Close, her cousin and residuary legatee, became possessed of all the contents of her house. Some of the books and engravings were sold by auction, but the remainder were taken good care of, and passed to me on my mother's death in 1860. As thus, 'in a way' the representative of the 'Swan of Lichfield,' you can easily see what such an appreciation of her as was yours means to me. Of course I know her weak points, and how the pot of clay must suffer in trying to 'bump' the pot of iron in midstream, but I also know that she was no ordinary personage in her day, when the standard of feminine culture was low, and I have resented some things that have been written of her. Mrs. Oliphant treats her kindly in her Literary History of England, and now I have your 'appreciation' of her, for which I beg to thank you."

{15} Once certainly in the lines "On the Death of Mr. Robert Levet":—

Well try'd through many a varying year, See Levet to the grave descend, Officious, innocent, sincere, Of ev'ry friendless name the friend.

{18} Prayers and Meditations: composed by Samuel Johnson, LL.D., and published from his Manuscripts by George Straham, D.D., Prebendary of Rochester and Vicar of Islington in Middlesex, 1785. Dr. Birkbeck Hill suggests that Johnson could not have contemplated the publication of the work in its entirety, but the world is the better for the self revelation, notwithstanding Cowper's remark in a letter to Newton (August 27, 1785), that "the publisher of it is neither much a friend to the cause of religion nor to the author's memory; for by the specimen of it that has reached us, it seems to contain only such stuff as has a direct tendency to expose both to ridicule."

{19} There is an edition with a brief Introduction by Augustine Birrell, published by Elliot Stock in 1904, and another, with an Introduction by "H. C.," was issued by H. R. Allenson in 1906.

{31} The Rev. Angus Mackay, author of The Brontes In Fact and Fiction. He was Rector of Holy Trinity Church, Dean Bridge, Edinburgh, when he died, aged 54, on New Year's Day, 1907. Earlier in life he had been a Curate at Olney.

{34} John Newton (1725-1807) had been the captain of a slave ship before his 'conversion.' He became Curate of Olney in 1764 and published the famous Olney Hymns with Cowper in 1779. In 1780 Newton became the popular Incumbent of St. Mary Woolnoth, London.

{35} See the Globe Cowper, with an Introduction by the Rev. William Benham, the Rector of St. Edmund's, Lombard Street. Canon Benham has written many books, but he has done no better piece of work than this fine Introduction which first appeared in 1870.

{36} Thomas Scott (1747-1821). His commentaries first appeared in weekly parts between 1788 and 1792, and were first issued in ten volumes, 1823-25. He was Rector of Astin Sandford in Buckinghamshire from 1801 until his death. His Life was published by his son, the Rev. John Scott, in 1822.

{37} Thomas Percy (1729-1811) became Vicar of Easton Maudit, Northamptonshire, in 1753. Johnson visited him here in 1764. In 1765 Percy published his Reliques of Ancient English Poetry. He became Bishop of Dromere in 1782.

{38a} William Hayley (1745-1820) was counted a great poet in his day and placed in the same rank with Dryden and Pope. He wrote Triumphs of Temper 1781, Triumphs of Music 1804, and many other works; but he is of interest here by virtue of his Life and Letters of William Cowper, Esq., with Remarks on Epistolary Writers, published in 1803.

{38b} Robert Southey (1774-1843), whose Life and Works of Cowper is in fifteen volumes, which were published by Baldwin & Cradock between the years 1835 and 1837. The attractive form in which the works are presented, the many fine steel engravings, and the excellent type make this still the only way for book lovers to approach Cowper. Southey had to suffer the competition of the Rev. T. S. Grimshawe, who produced, through Saunders & Otley, about the same time a reprint of Hayley's biography with much of Cowper's correspondence that is not in Southey's volumes. The whole correspondence was collected by Mr. Thomas Wright, and published by Hodder & Stoughton in 1904.

{38c} Walter Bagehot (1826-1877) in his Literary Studies. James Russell Lowell (1819-1891) in his Essays. Mrs. Oliphant (1828-1897) in her Literary History of England; and George Eliot (1819-1880) in her Essays (Worldliness and Other Worldliness).

{44} It has no bearing upon the subject that the horrors of the Bastille at the time of its fall were greatly exaggerated.

{47} Theology in the English Poets, by Stopford A. Brooke.

{56} Mr. Leslie Stephen, who became Sir Leslie Stephen, K.C.B., in 1902, was born in 1832 and died in 1904. In addition to the article in the D.N.B., this great critic has one on "Cowper and Rousseau" in his Hours in a Library.

{62} Sir John Fenn (1739-1794), the antiquary, obtained the originals of the Paston Letters from Thomas Worth, a chemist of Diss. The following lines were first printed in Cowper's Collected Poems, by Mr. J. C. Bailey in his admirable edition of 1906, published by the Methuens:—

Two omens seem propitious to my fame, Your spouse embalms my verse, and you my name; A name, which, all self-flattery far apart Belongs to one who venerates in his heart The wise and good, and therefore of the few Known by these titles, sir, both yours and you.

They were written to please his cousin John Johnson who was to oblige Fenn by giving him an autograph of Cowper's.

{66} Edward Stanley (1779-1849), the father of Arthur Penrhyn Stanley (1815-1881), Dean of Westminster, was Bishop of Norwich from 1837 to 1849.

{80} Borrow's step-daughter, Henrietta Clarke, married James McOubrey, an Irish doctor. She outlived Borrow for many years, dying at Great Yarmouth in 1904. All her literary effects, including many interesting manuscripts, have been passed on to me by her executor, Mr. Hubert Smith, and these will be used in my forthcoming biography of Borrow.

{84} I ventured to ask my friend Mr. Birrell for a line to read to my Norwich audience and he sent me the following characteristic letter dated December 8, 1903:—

". . . For my part I should leave George Borrow alone, to take his own part even as Isopel Berners learnt to take hers in the great house at Long Melford. He has an appealing voice which no sooner falls on the ear of the born Borrovian, than up the lucky fellow must get and follow his master to the end of the chapter.

"However, if you will insist upon going out into the highways and hedges and compelling the wayfaring man—though a fool—to come in and take a seat at the Lavengro feast, nobody can stop you.

"The great thing is to get people to read the Borrow books: there is nothing else to be done. If, after having read them, some enthusiasts go on to learn Romany and seek to trace authorities on Gypsies and Gypsy lore—why, let them. They may soon know more about Gypsies than Borrow ever did—but they will never write about them as he did.

"The essence of the matter is to enjoy Borrow's books for themselves alone. As for Borrow's biography, it appears to me either that he has already written it, or it is not worth writing. Anyhow, place the books in the forefront, reprint things as often as you dare without note or comment or even prefatory appreciation, and you cannot but earn the gratitude of every true Borrovian who in consequence of your efforts come upon the Borrow books for the first time."

{97} M. Rene Huchon, who addressed the visitors at the Crabbe Celebration, published his George Crabbe and his Times: A Critical and Biographical Study, through Mr. John Murray, early in the present year, 1907.

{98} This reproach has since been removed by the appearance of the Complete Works of George Crabbe in three volumes of the Cambridge English Classics Series, published by the Cambridge University Press, and edited by Dr. A. W. Ward, the Master of Peterhouse.

{100} The original letter is in the possession of Mr. A. M. Broadley, of Bridport. It is reprinted from the Hanmer Correspondence in an appendix to M. Huchon's biography.

{106} But M. Huchon makes it clear in George Crabbe and his Times that Crabbe declined at the last moment to marry Miss Charlotte Ridout, who seems to have been really in love with him.

{138} This monument, a fine statue facing the house which replaces the one in which Sir Thomas Browne lived, was unveiled in October, 1905.

{144} For every student Cunningham's nine volumes have been superseded since this Address was delivered by the sixteen volumes of the Letters of Horace Walpole, edited by Mrs. Paget Toynbee for the Clarendon Press.

{145} The other side of the picture may, however, be presented. Horace, says Cunningham (Walpole's Letters, vol. i.), hated Norfolk, the native country of his father, and delighted in Kent, the native country of his mother. "He did not care for Norfolk ale, Norfolk turnips, Norfolk dumplings and Norfolk turkeys. Its flat, sandy aguish scenery was not to his taste." He dearly liked what he calls most happily, "the rich, blue prospects of Kent."

{153} Goldsmith doubtless had more than one experience in his mind when he wrote of:—

Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain.

Lissoy, near Ballymahon, Ireland, served to provide many concrete features of the picture, but that the author drew upon his experiences of Houghton is believed by his principal biographer, John Forster, by Professor Masson and others, and on no other assumption than that of an English village can the lines be explained:—

A time there was, ere England's griefs began, When every rood of ground maintained its man.

{185} Originally written to serve as an Introduction to an edition of Mr. George Meredith's Tragic Comedians, of which book Lassalle is the hero. That edition was published by Messrs. Ward Lock & Bowden, who afterwards transferred all rights in it to Messrs. Archibald Constable & Co., by whose courtesy the paper is included here.

{186} Lassalle's Tagebuch, edited by Paul Lindau, 1891.

{187} Henrich Heine's sammtliche Werke, vol. xxii., pp. 84-99.

{188} The most concise account of the affair is contained in the story of Sophie Solutzeff, entitled, Eine Liebes-episode aus dem Leben Ferdinand Lassalle's. This booklet, which is published in German, French, and Russian, professes to be an account of Lassalle's love for a young Russian lady, Sophie Solutzeff, some two years before he met Helene von Donniges. He is represented as being himself in a frenzy of passion; the lady, however, rejecting as a lover the man she had been prepared to worship as a teacher. There can be little doubt that the whole story is a fabrication, in which the Countess von Hatzfeldt had a considerable part. The Countess was rightly judged by popular opinion to have played a discreditable role in the love passages between Lassalle and Helene; and Helene's own account of the matter in her Reminiscences was an additional blow at the pseudo-friend who might have helped the lovers so much. What more natural than that the Countess should be anxious to break the force of Helene's indictment, by endorsing the popular, and indeed accurate judgment, that Lassalle was very inflammable where women were concerned. This she could do by depicting him, a little earlier, in precisely similar bondage to that which he had professed to Helene. That the Countess wrote, or assisted to write, the compilation of letters and diaries, does not, however, destroy its value as a record of Lassalle's struggle on her behalf. That account, if not written by Lassalle, was written or inspired by the other great actor in the Hatzfeldt drama, and may therefore be considered a fairly safe guide in recounting the story. Mr. Israel Zangwill, since the above was written, has published an article on Lassalle in his Dreamers of the Ghetto. He accepts Sophie Solutzeff's story as genuine, but that is merely the credulity of an accomplished romancer.

{198} Debate in the German Reichstag, April 2, 1881. Quoted by W. H. Dawson.

{213} Becker's Enthullungen, 1868.

{218} Briefe an Hans von Bulow, 1885.

{225} Reprinted with alterations from the Pall Mall Magazine of July, 1905, by kind permission of the proprietor and editor; and of Miss Mary Gladstone (Mrs. Drew) to whom the list of books was sent in a letter.

{230a} Plato (B.C. 427-347). Dr. Jowett has translated the Laws. See The Dialogues of Plato With Analysis and Introductions by Benjamin Jowett. In Five Volumes. Vol. V. The Clarendon Press.

{230b} Aristotle (B.C. 384-322). Dr. Jowett has translated the Politics into English. Two volumes. The Clarendon Press.

{230c} Epictetus (born A.D. 50, died in Rome, but date unknown). His Encheiridion, a collection of Maxims, was made by his pupil Arrian. The best translation into English is that by George Long, first published in 1877. (George Bell.)

{230d} St. Augustine (A.D. 353-430). See a translation of his Letters edited by Mary Allies, published in 1890.

{231a} St. Vincent of Lerins—Vincentius Lirinensis. Native of Gaul. Monk in monastery of Lerinat, opposite Cannes. Died about 450. In 434 wrote Commonitorium adversus profanus omnium heretiecrum novitates. It contains the famous threefold text of orthodoxy—"quod ubique, quod semper, quod ad omnibus creditum est." Printed at Paris, 1663 and later. Also in Mignes, Patrologia Latina, Vol. 50. Hallam calls the text "the celebrated rule." It is all now remembered of St. V. by most educated men. It is shown to be of no practical value in an able criticism by Sir G. C. Lewis, Influence of Authority in Matters of Opinion, 2nd ed., 1875, p. 57. Mr Gladstone reviewed this work of Lewis, Nineteenth Century March, 1877.

{231b} Hugo of St. Victor (1097-1141), a celebrated Mystic born at Ypres in Flanders. His collected works first appeared at Rouen in 1648.

{231c} St. Bonaventura (A.D. 1221-1274). Born at Bagnarea, near Orvieto, in Tuscany, became a Franciscan monk and afterwards a Professor of Theology at Paris, where he gained the title of the "Seraphic Doctor." Made a Cardinal by Pope Gregory X, who sent him as his Legate to the Council at Lyons, where he died. In 1482 he was canonized. His writings appeared at Rome in 1588-96.

{231d} St. Thomas Aquinas (A.D. 1225-1274). The Angelic Doctor was born at the castle of Rocca-Secca near Aquino, between Rome and Naples. Entered the Dominican Order in 1243. Went to Paris in 1252 and attained great distinction as a theologian. His Summa Theologiae was followed by his Summa contra Gentiles. His works were first collected in 17 volumes in 1570. Aquinas was canonized in 1323.

{232a} Dante (A.D. 1265-1321). The Divina Commedia has been translated into English by many scholars. The best known version is the poetical renderings of H. F. Cary (1772-1844) and W. W. Longfellow (1807- 1882) and the prose translations (the "Inferno" only) of John Carlyle (1801-79) and A. J. Butler in whose three volumes of the "Purgatory," "Paradise" and "Inferno" the original Italian may be studied side by side with the translation.

{232b} Raymund of Sabunde, a physician of Toulouse of the fifteenth century. He published his Theologia naturalis at Strassburg in 1496. "I found the concerts of the author to be excellent, the contexture of his works well followed, and his project full of pietie" writes Montaigne in telling us of his father's request that he should translate Sabunde's Theologia naturalis. Florio's Translation. Book II, Ch. XII.

{232c} Nicholas of Cusa (A.D. 1401-1464) was born at Kues on the Moselle. His De Concordantia Catholica was a treatise in favour of the Councils of the Church and against the authority of the Pope. He was made a Cardinal by Pope Nicholas V.

{232d} Edward Reuss (1804-1891), a professor of Theology, who was born at Strassburg. Published his History of the New Testament in 1842 and his History of the Old Testament in 1881. The Bible, a new translation with Introduction and Commentaries, appeared in 19 volumes between 1874 and 1881.

{233a} Pascal, Blaise (1623-1662). Born at Clermont-Ferrand in Auvergne. His Letters to a Provincial, written in 1656-7, made his fame by their attack on the Jesuists. His Pensees appeared after his death, in 1669, and they have reappeared in many forms, "edited" by many schools of thought. The edition edited by Ernest Havet (1813-1889) was published in 1852.

{233b} Malebranche, Nicolas (1638-1715). Born in Paris. The works of Descartes drew him to philosophy. The famous dictum, "Malebranche saw all things in God," had reference to his treatise, De la Recherche de la Verite, first published in 1674.

{233c} Baader, Franz (1765-1841). A speculative philosopher and theologian, born at Munich, who endeavoured to reconcile the tenets of the Church of Rome with philosophy. Of his many works his Vorlesungen uber Spekulative Dogmatik is here selected. It appeared between 1828 and 1838 in five parts.

{233d} Molitor, Franz Joseph (1779-1860). A philosophical writer, born near Frankfurt. His Philosophie der Geschichte, oder uber Tradition was published in 4 volumes between 1827 and 1853.

{233e} Astie, Jean Frederic (1822-1894). A French Protestant theologian, who held a Chair of Theology in New York from 1848 to 1853. In 1856 became a Professor in Switzerland. He published his Esprit d'Alexandre Vinet at Paris in 1861. In 1882 appeared his Le Vinet de la legende et celui de l'histoire.

{234a} Punjer, Bernard (1850-1884). A theologian whose Geschichte der Religions-philosophie was much the vogue with theological students at the time of its publication in 1880. It was reissued in 1887 in an English translation by W. Hastie, under the title, History of the Christian Philosophy of Religion from the Reformation to Kant. Punjer also wrote Die Religionslehre Kant's, published at Jena in 1874.

{234b} Rothe, Richard (1799-1867). A Protestant theologian. Was for a time preacher to the Prussian Embassy in Rome, and afterwards in succession Professor of Theology at Wittenberg, at Heidelberg, and at Bonn. His Theologische Ethik appeared at Wittenberg in 3 volumes between 1845 and 1848.

{234c} Martensen, Hans Lassen (1808-1884). A Danish theologian, born at Fleusburg and died at Copenhagen, where he was long a Professor of Theology. He became Bishop of Zeeland. Die Christliche Ethik was one of many works by him. He also wrote Die Christliche Dogmatik, Die Christliche Taufe, and a Life of Jakob Bohme.

{234d} Oettingen, Alexander von (1827-1905). A theologian and statistician principally associated with Dorpat in Livonia, where he studied from 1845 to 1849. He became Professor of Theology at its famous University. His principal book is entitled, Die Moralstatistik in ihrer Bedeutung fur eine Sozialethik.

{234e} Hartmann, Karl Robert Eduard von (1842-1906). Born in Berlin, the son of General Robert von Hartmann, and served for some time in the Artillery of the German Army. He has written many philosophical works. His Phanomenologie des sittlichlen Bewusstseins was published in Berlin in 1879.

{235a} Leibniz, Gottfried Wilhelm (1646-1716). Born at Leipzig and died at Hanover. Visited Paris and London, and became acquainted with Boyle and Newton. In 1676 appointed to a librarianship at Hanover. His philosophical views are mainly derived from his letters. The edition of the Letters, edited by Ouno Klopp (1822-1903), appeared at Hanover between 1862 and 1884 in 11 volumes.

{235b} Brandis, Christian August (1790-1867). A philosopher and philologist, born in Hildesheim, studied in Gottingen and Kiel. Accompanied Niebuhr as Secretary to the Embassy to Rome in 1816. In 1822 became Professor of Philosophy in Bonn. His Handbuch der Geschichte der griechischromischen Philosophie, doubtless here referred to by Lord Acton, was published in Berlin at long intervals (1835-66) in 3 volumes.

{235c} Fischer, Kuno (1824-1907). Born at Sandewalde in Silesia. Deprived of his professorship of philosophy at Heidelberg by the Baden Government in 1853 on account of charge of Pantheism, but recalled to Heidelberg in 1872. His principal book is Geschichte der Neuern Philosophie (1852-1903). His Franz Baco von Verulam appeared in 1856, and Francis Bacon und seine Schule made the 10th volume of his Geschichte.

{235d} Zeller, Eduard (1814- still living). Theologian and historian of philosophy. Studied at Tubingen and Berlin, became Professor of Theology at Berne, afterwards held chairs successively at Heidelberg and Berlin. His many works include The Philosophy of Ancient Greece, Platonic Studies and Zwingli's Theological System.

{236a} Bartholomess, Christian (1815-1856). A French philosopher, born at Geiselbronn in Alsace. From 1853 Professor of Philosophy at Strassburg. Died at Nuremberg. Wrote a Life of Giordano Bruno, and Philosophical History of the Prussian Academy, particularly under Frederick the Great, as well as the Histoire critique des doctrines religieuses de la philosophie moderne, published in 2 volumes in 1855.

{236b} Madame Guyon (1648-1717) was born at Montargis in France, and her maiden name was Jeanne Marie Bouvieres de la Mothe. She married at 16 years of age Jacques Guyon. Left a widow, she devoted herself to a religious mysticism which raised up endless controversies during the succeeding years. She was compelled to leave Geneva because her doctrines were declared to be heretical. She was imprisoned in the Bastile from 1695 to 1702. Her works are contained in 39 volumes.

{236c} Ritschl, Albrecht (1822-1889). Professor of Theology, born in Berlin, died in Gottingen. Became Professor of Theology in Bonn and later in Gottingen. He wrote many books. His Die Entstehung der altkatholischen Kirche first appeared in 1850.

{236d} Loening, Edgar (1843- still living), was born in Paris. Has held professorial chairs at Strassburg, Dorpat, Rostock, and at Halle. His Geschichte des deutschen Kirchenrechts first appeared in 1878.

{237a} Baur, Ferdinand Christian (1792-1860). Born at Schmiden, near Kannstatt. Held various theological chairs before that of Tubingen, which he occupied from 1826 until his death. He wrote a great number of theological works, of which his Vorlesungen uber die christliche Dogmengeschichte was published in Leipzig in 3 volumes between 1865 and 1867.

{237b} Fenelon, Francois de Salignac de la Mothe (1651-1715). Born in Perigord in France, and famous alike as a divine and as a man of letters, his Telemaque living in literature. His controversy over Madame Guyon is well known. Louis XIV made him preceptor to his grandson, the Duke of Burgundy, and later Archbishop of Cambrai. His Correspondence was published between 1727 and 1729 in 11 volumes.

{237c} Newman, John Henry (1801-1890). A famous Cardinal of the Church of Rome; born in London, educated at Trinity College, Oxford; first Vicar of St. Mary's, Oxford; took part in the Tractarian Movement with some of the Tracts for the Times. His Apologia pro Vita Sua appeared in 1864, his Dream of Gerontius in 1865. There is no Theory of Development by Newman. His Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine appeared in 1845, and was replied to by the Rev. J. B. Mozley in a volume bearing the title The Theory of Development.