adduce it as a crushing argument against the Ecclesiological nomenclature that Romanesque might, for consistency's sake, be called the Round style,' and be subdivided into First Round, Middle Round, and Third Round. We may be exceedingly obtuse, but we cannot see the cogency of this. Where is the reductio ad absurdum? For Romanesque has, over and over again, been called the Round-arch' style, and is generally, we believe, so called in Germany. And if Mr. Freeman shall find himself able to divide that style into three as well defined periods of development as those represented by the terms First, Middle, and Third Pointed,—the architectural world will be much indebted to him, and he will have the credit of being the first to effect-what is still a desideratum-the discovery of a simple but exhaustive classification for the local and epochal varieties of Romanesque.

Rachel Ashburn.' (Masters.)

The author of this story is already favourably known through Harry and Walter,' and other little books, in prose and verse. It is called a story of real life,' and has many points of truth and natural interest, though perhaps hardly exact probability strictly to deserve that designation. It is written with much gracefulness of thought and expression, but is open to criticism on the point of arrangement. The writer is evidently aware of this herself, apologizing for a 'long digression.' The digression constitutes, in fact, much the larger portion of the whole story; so that the reader finds, towards the concluding pages of the book, that what he has hurried through as mere introduction is, in fact, the very history given him to read. It is in this point of view that arrangement, which with so many writers is regarded as a matter of inferior moment, is really so important: it is the science of getting hold of the reader's attention.

'Self-Devotion; or, the Prussians at Hochkirch.' (Lomax, Lichfield; Masters, London.) A translation of a clever story, from the German of Frederica Lohmann, of the time of the Seven Years' War. The principal personage, an old female servant, faithful, fearless, independent of speech, is drawn with great truth and spirit, and well sustained throughout. The authoress has a patriotic pride in Frederic the Great in which we cannot sympathise; but as he is introduced in his military, not his moral aspect, and seen only in connexion with old Justina, this does not interfere with the merits of the story, which are of a domestic nature. The translation fails in elegance, and is not always grammatical; while the introduction of one of Watts's best known Hymns for Children at full length, in a note, as supposed to bear upon the context, is a measure surprising, from its very simplicity.

'The Doctrine of Holy Baptism,' by Archdeacon Wilberforce, unfortunately came to hand too late to be noticed in the article on the subject in our present number. It is a valuable supplement to his work on the Incarnation, the principles of which it applies to the Sacrament of Baptism. In spite of the difficulties of the subject, he has advanced in dogmatic precision. He first states clearly the doctrine itself, and its connexion with those on which it mainly depends, proving the chief points from Holy Scripture. Then he proceeds to the questions now raised about the doctrine of the Church of England, especially as it may have been

affected by prevalent views of the Divine decrees, and shows that it has always consistently affirmed Baptismal Regeneration. The first chapter, What Regeneration is,' deserves the attentive perusal of every one whose mind is at all agitated by the present controversy, or perplexed with doubts on the subject, and is also well calculated to help every man to understand his neighbour.

'The Voices of Harvest,' by the Rev. R. Milman, (Masters,) a small book on a great subject which we can cordially recommend. It consists of a series of lessons or discourses on the spiritual uses Scripture makes of this season, opening with a spirited and even eloquent description of the past harvest amongst ourselves. The whole is a very impressive appeal to the heart and conscience, and likely to interest and benefit more than one class of readers.

'The Pastor of Wellburn and his Flock.' (John Henry Parker, 377, Strand.) A thoughtful and instructive little volume, in which the business and observations of a shepherd's life are spiritualized by his pastor in a course of conversations between Mr. Hope, the country parson, and John Huntley, the shepherd. There is a formality inherent in this mode of developing a subject from which the present work does not escape; but the author shows himself so fully acquainted with his subject, and so habituated to meditate upon it in a devout spirit, that the reader soon feels he has a right to bring out his thoughts in his own way. It is well adapted for the increasing class of thoughtful serious readers amongst the poor, who like good matter, and are willing to allow a writer his own time in working it out.

We have to notice a useful volume of Sermons on the Book of Common Prayer,' by Mr. Pinder, of Wells, (Rivingtons); two volumes of Sermons on the Liturgy,' by the Rev. John Hall, Honorary Canon of Bristol Cathedral; two single Sermons, by the Rev. O. B. Tyler, on the Sin of being glad at Calamities,' and on the Wisdom of this World and Spiritual Wisdom compared ;' an 'Ordination Sermon,' by the Rev. R. C. Savage, mixed in its views and its authorities, but containing much good; Apostolical Sketches,' by the Rev. Thomas Sworde, Rector of S. Peter's, Thetford; an eloquent Sermon, preached on the last National Visitation, by Mr. Hawkins, Secretary of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel ; a Sermon on Family Worship,' by the Rev. J. D. Jefferson; an 'Ordination Sermon,' by Mr. Kennaway; a Few Words to Protestants on the Fifth of November,' (Masters,) by a Priest of the Church of England, containing some judicious reasons for sobering the ardour of that festival; a Few Plain Words, addressed to those who Think,' by the Curate of Stoke Damerel, (Masters); Wrested Texts,' No. 1, (Batty,) short explanations of texts which are popularly misunderstood, such as Rom. vii. 19, Mark ix. 39, Coloss. ii. 16; two earnest Sermons on the day of Prayer and the day of Thanksgiving, by the Rector of St. James's. The Tracts for the Christian Seasons' keep up their tone, which is a solemn and fervent one, and calculated to impress. Those on Easter Week are perhaps rather too sombre for that particular season. We recommend the series strongly.

6

THE

CHRISTIAN REMEMBRANCER.

APRIL, 1850.

ART. I.-Life and Correspondence of Robert Southey. London : Longman & Co. 1850.

It is not easy to determine what are the lawful claims of the public on what professes to be a 'Life:' what we may reasonably expect to learn from a biographer of the subject of his narrative: whether he may practise any suppression or reserve, or whether it is his duty, not only to tell the truth—which admits of no dispute-but the whole truth. Again, it may be questioned if it be enough for him to give facts, however full and minute, while he keeps back faults of temper or disposition of which he is himself conscious; or whether he is not bound to give the reader the full benefit of his own judgment and experience, to whatever revelations they may lead him. At first sight it seems very like an impertinence to expect to be informed of every weakness or peculiarity of a distinguished man passed away from amongst us, and to assume that because we have been instructed or entertained by his works, and now learn the events of his career, therefore we have a right to look into his daily conversation and innermost motives and feelings;-that because he was better, or wiser, or greater than other men, therefore we may claim an insight into all his doings. It may appear, we say, like undue curiosity to expect all this; yet there is much to be said on the other side. Publicity is one of the penalties of greatness-greatness of social position, and not less greatness of intellect. No man can set himself up or be set up above his brethren, but he becomes a mark for public observation. We may, therefore, say that it is right, because in the long run it is inevitable, because it is part of the constitution of the world of our own times, that we should know about our great men what is worth knowing. Nor does this law tell against them. Rumour goes before, and proclaims with exaggeration, what the true historian records with all its extenuating cir

cumstances. Common fame will tell of actions and opinions; the biographer will give the history of their growth, and the external influences which first originated them. It is best to know the truth, and therefore it is but reasonable to hope that there is nothing unfair in the only mode of learning it. But such a biography, full, truthful, candid, impartial, is a rare gift to the world of literature: perhaps it is only to be looked for where the character is great enough to sustain its interest with the world after the first motives for reserve are passed by,when it can be looked back upon as a feature of history. Towards such a biography as this-one that illustrates not only the man, but the age in which he lives,-the first notices of his life can only be regarded as materials.

Nor does the literary man because his external life is uneventful, escape this same tax of publicity. It is a gain to know the germ of certain thoughts and views. Nothing is trivial or unimportant which has served to build up a great mind. Though genius is perhaps less dependent on the accidents of education than the more ordinary rate of capacity; though it will seem to force its way through impediments, and perhaps only gain strength from what would repress common minds; yet its form and direction are guided by them-early influences may determine its path and calling.

Against these ends of biography, the claims of relationship to undertake the task must form a barrier. A son succeeds to his father's papers: he has a right, and he alone in a certain sense, to lay them before the world. But from this source we can only have materials, we can have no just estimate of character, and perhaps not the fullest means of forming one for ourselves. A son cannot say anything disparaging to his father's reputation, nor need he reveal family circumstances disagreeable to the survivors; scarcely need he publish anything, though from his father's hand, contrary to his own notions of right and excellence.

He must be laudatory. We could not tolerate the spectacle of a son sitting in cool, impartial judgment on his father's actions and opinions. The fact of his undertaking the task at all, implies a eulogy. Yet possibly the subject of his sensitive respect would suffer less from the simplicity of unguarded truth. It is not easy to flatter in a portrait and preserve the look of nature-the individuality which constitutes the charm. By giving only the good points, he is more like other men and less like himself, and it is because he is himself, and unlike other men, that we want to know about him.

Mr. Southey, in preparing his father's life for publication, has evidently felt all these difficulties, and has had no other thought how to surmount them than by confining his share of

the work to a due attention to dates-threading together his father's voluminous correspondence, with such notices of family events, births, deaths, marriages, &c., as are needed to explain the letters themselves. We have few comments on these events, and, what is a more serious omission, no recollections of his father's home and fireside conversations, and therefore none of his early impressions, to be alone gathered from this source; seldom even any account of the first commencement of those friendships which in Southey's case formed part of himself. A literary man can hardly be looked upon alone, and he especially is associated with many distinguished names in conjunction with whom the world has been accustomed to think of him. We should be glad to know what were his first impressions, what the circumstances that first introduced him to Coleridge, Walter Scott, Lamb, Wordsworth, and many others. But on these points of natural curiosity the reader will find little satisfaction; indeed, the notices of the latter are so few and vague, occurring incidentally in the letters themselves, but with no allusion on the biographer's part to the commencement or progress of the implied intimacy, that we should have supposed some reason for the omission, which it has not been thought expedient to mention, had not Wordsworth's name occurred in a long list of others to whom he offers acknowledgments for having placed his father's letters at his disposal. Rumour has indeed accounted for the delay in the publication of these memoirs by family differences which seem to be hinted at in the preface.

'For the delay which has taken place in bringing forth this work, I am not responsible, as it has chiefly arisen from the circumstance that no literary executor was expressly named in my father's will: and in consequence of the difficulties which thus arose, it was not till the spring of 1848 that the materials, as far as they had then been collected, were put into my hands. I have since then made what speed I might in the preparation of them for the press, amid the engagements of other business, and with my hand often palsied by causes over which I had no control.'—P. v.

That the son in this case had the right to edit his father's papers, no one, we think, can doubt; and we must sympathise with him in the additional difficulties the fact of its being disputed must have thrown in the way of a task, arduous and perplexing under any circumstances. But his own recollections of his father's conversation were at least in his power, which could not fail (it would seem) to throw that light on the correspondence which it now wants. It may not, however, have been Southey's way to revive old times in his family circle, in which case we are quarrelling unreasonably with his biographer; but it is singular, and an answering peculiarity in these volumes, that as we are given