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From The Examiner. Hutton's Memoir. It is a piece of biography Poems and Essays. By the late William based upon private affection, partial and yet Caldwell Roscoe. Edited, with a Prefa- judicious in its tone, that within a little space tory Memoir, by his Brother-in-Law, has reproduced with a singular delicacy the Richard Holt Hutton. In Two Volumes. chief lights and shades of the character it Chapman and Hall. represents. From a letter to himself Mr. Hutton furnishes one illustration of the tone of his friend's humor.

"He wrote to me from Wales a year or two ago: 'Farming prospers in the main; it is a very good thing to combine with literature, and has an excellent tendency to make one covetous of trifling gains. I always insist on seeing every day the large parcels of copper produced by the sale of milk. I ask with interest whether there when there is a falling off of fourpence. All is twopence more than yesterday; I am dejected the money we get is made into five-shilling packets of coppers, and stowed away in a cupboard. This gives a ponderous sensation of wealth, makes it impossible for thieves to take it all away at once, and prevents people calling to have their bills paid until they have an opportunity of bringing a horse and cart.""

THESE volumes contain all that was written for the public by a man of singular worth and refined taste, who died last summer at the early age of thirty-five. They will share with the Essays and Remains of Alfred Vaughan a permanent place among the unobtrusive books that lie about our literature, with the beauty and truth of a short life of promise perfectly expressed in them. The subject of Mr. R. H. Hutton's delicately shaded Memoir, which says all that can complete a human interest in the collected Poems and Essays which it introduces, was the grandson of the biographer of Leo X., by form of faith a Unitarian, and trained to the bar, which, for defect of health and other reasons, he exchanged for partnership in a stone quarry and literary ease. Alfred And there is a trait of character nicely Vaughan, born in the same year with the observed in the remark upon Mr. Roscoe's younger Roscoe, and living to a like age, delight in amusing children with tales "of had begun his labor in the world as a Non-which pelicans, puffins, grasshoppers, crickconformist minister. The two men, how-ets, ponies, or dogs were the heroes." ever, differing in theological impressions,

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were kindred in their characters. In both Reynard the Fox was one of his favorite we find delicacy of spiritual aspiration, ac-books as a child; and it almost broke his heart,' tivity of criticism at once honest and subtle, he said, when in later life, he met with a beaua play of winning humor, a sense of poetry, with a 'moral conclusion.' It was, he said, tifully illustrated edition of it which was fitted and a marked tendency rather to reflection like the wicked doctor who put pills instead than to action. Alfred Vaughan was the of plums into his pudding.' richer in acquired knowledge, William Roscoe applied to the reading that he shared with the million, individual reflection, always interesting, often new. His character is thus carefully summed up by his brotherin-law, Mr. Hutton, in the Prefatory Memoir:

"The true charm of the animal world for him was, that it had independent life enough of its own to call much fancy and insight into play in interpreting it, and yet was so completely unmoral. It gave a free range and sufficient hints to excite the imagination, without calling out that exhausting effort by which the spirit reaches into a world above itself. Mr. Roscoe says in his essay on ghosts, that the occupation which the new spirit-media attribute to the world of angels is about as noble as it would be for man

"I never knew any other man whose death could have made so deep a rent in the hearts and lives of other men outside the circle of his own family. His rich humor, his singular harmony of character, his social case and insight, the ideal to occupy himself in breathing into the mind of depth and patient meditativeness of his judg-in dictating the dreams and waking thoughts a dog the suggestions 'bark,'' smell a rat,' or ment, his public spirit and manly political inter- of a growing litter of pigs.' This remark brings ests, the sincerity and trustfulness of his friend- with inexpressible humor and force before the ship, the refined and human character of his mind the real existence of a quasi-mental world tastes, the perfect veracity and light fresh beauty in the lower creation, on the conscious life of of his imagination, and the true humility of his which moral and spiritual law has no bearing faith, had made him an object of hope as well as whatever, nay, with which it stands in grotesque love to many of his companions. There were contrast. And hence exactly its attraction for several, I believe, who would have been really him. The facts of natural history give a kind more clated by his success than by their own; of glimpse of the pleasures, and domestic occuwho, had he gained a poct's fame, would have felt their own life brighter; and who have lost pations, and politics, so to say, of such a world -hints which his imagination could expand to in him one of the main vital springs of their almost any extent without any of that tension own happiness." which its higher tasks require. The effort to conceive the cares and aims of the weasel and the water-rat was not only a plunge into a fresh and independent world, but one beyond the

We are tempted to illustrate the character of the mind that speaks in these two voles by one or two more extracts from Mr.

reach of those haunting moral and spiritual lights and shadows, which sometimes strained Mr. Roscoe's imagination beyond a healthy temper."

Mr. Roscoe's skill in verse-and the first volume of his Remains consists entirely of two tragedies and many poems-is illustrated, together with much of his character, in these lines :

in which the king, who would have been most fitly, as well as most justly, crushed at once as a monster of guilt, is put on his trial, and pronounced by the judges beyond their jurisdiction. Not till then will Ethel consent to take it on his cous crime which had wrecked his own life. No own responsibility solemnly to avenge the hid doubt the purpose of the dramatist was to bring out very strongly the scrupulous self-distrust which makes Ethel's tardy and diffident spirit' fear lest personal revenge should enter into his

“TO LITTLE A. C., IN THE GARDEN AT EAST-motives. The author was responsible, as he

BURY.

"Come my beauty, come my bird; We two will wander, and no third Shall mar that sweetest solitude

Of a garden and a child,

When the fresh clms are first in bud,

And western winds blow mild. "Clasp that short-reaching arm about a neck Stript of a deeper love's more close cmbrace,

And with the softness of thy baby-cheek
Press roses on a carc-distained face.
"What? set thee down, because the air
Ruffles too boldly thy brown hair?
Walk then, and as thy tiny boot
Presses the greenness of the sod,
Teach me to see that tottering foot
Uplifted and set down by God;

"Teach me a stronger, tenderer hand than mine

Sways every motion of thy infant frame; Bid me take hold, like thee, and not repine, Weak with my errors and deserved shame. "How? home again? ah, that soft laughter Tells me what voice thou hankerest after. Run, run, with that bright shining face, And little hands stretched forth apart, Into a mother's fond embrace, Close, closer to her heart.

“I too will turn, for I discern a voice Which whispers me that I am far from home;

Bids me repent, and led by holier choice

Back to a Father's open bosom come." In relation also to the best of his two plays, Violenzia, which contains many a fine touch of natural emotion, Mr. Hutton illustrates another of the points in his friend's character.

"Of the profound, and perhaps exaggerated respect which Mr. Roscoe cherished for strict constitutional forms, as the signs of habitual self control in a political society, there is a curious example in his tragedy of Violenzia. Almost all his friends joked him about the trial scene,

says, for the dénouement as a poct only,' not as a moralist. But there was something more than this, I believe, in the tenacity with which Mr. Roscoe clung to this turn in the plot. He had so deep-rooted a reverence for duc forms and conventions as the bulwarks of political and social order, that though one of his friends remarked on the unsatisfactoriness of a result which insured to the king his costs,' and all, I think, regarded this extreme legality as a great blot on the play, he never wavered in his adherence to it.

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66 And the same characteristic came out in many other ways. He not only disliked but despised any conventionalism which seemed to represent false ideas, and was often extremely bold in setting it at defiance. But I think he disliked still more any thing spasmodic that indicated a want of self-regulating power. What do you mean,' he once wrote to his sister, by raving about the shackles of society in that Carlylian fashion? We're too methodical, are boots on our heads, or sleep in coal-scuttles? we? What would you have us do? Wear our Eat our dinner off wheelbarrows, or always use superlatives? Should we then be "Realities in the age of Shams?'"

Thoroughly real himself, Mr. Roscoe attacked affectation in all forms, and not with least relish when it took the form of scorn for the accepted usages of life. Of all shams there was none that seemed to anger apart from the living truth of individual exhim more than the sham of eccentricity, pression. The Essays gathered from the National and other Reviews which occupy the second volume of the Remains abound in genuine expression of a mind that labored unobtrusively to penetrate to the essential truth of what it studied. Even where his decision as a critic is most open to exception, he sets wholesome independent thought before his readers, and excites them to the exercise of their own faculties. A body of consistent reasoning and feeling may be said even to bind his essays upon modern poets into an instructive study of their art.

INAUGURAL ADDRESS Delivered before the University of Edinburgh, 16th April, 1860, by the Rt. Hon. W. E. Gladstone, 'D.C.L., LL.D., Rector of the University of Edinburgh, and M.P. for the University of Oxford.

Principal, Professors, and Students of the University of Edinburgh.

I cannot estimate lightly the occasion on which I meet you, especially as it regards the younger and the larger part of my academical audience. The franchise which you have exercised in my favor is itself of a nature to draw attention; for the legislature of our own day has, by a new deliberative act invested you, the youngest members of the university, with a definite and not inconsiderable influence in the formation of that court, which is to exercise, upon appeal, the highest control over its proceedings. This is a measure which would hardly have been adopted in any other land than our own. Yet it is also one, in the best sense, agreeable to the spirit of our country and of its institutions; for we think it eminently British to admit the voice of the governed in the choice of governors to seek, through diversity of elements, for harmony and unity of result, and to train men for the discharge of manly duties by letting them begin their exercise betimes.

You have chosen, gentlemen, as your own representative in the University Court, one widely enough separated from you in the scale of years; one to whom much of that is past, which to you is as yet future. It is fitting, then, that he should speak to you on such an occasion as that which unites us together -namely, the work of the university, as a great organ of preparation for after life; and that, in treating of what constitutes the great bond between us, he should desire and endeavor to assist in arming you, as far as he may, for the efforts and trials of your ca

reer.

Subject to certain cycles of partial revolution, it is true that, as in the material so in the moral world, every generation of man is a laborer for that which succeeds it, and makes an addition to that great sum-total of acchieved results, which may, in commercial phrase, be called the capital of the race. Of all the conditions of existence in which man differs from the brutes, there is not one of greater moment than this, that each one of them commences life as if he were the first of a species, whereas man inherits largely from those who have gone before. How largely, none of us can say; but my belief is that, as years gather more and more upon you, you will estimate more and more highly your debt to preceding ages. If, on the one hand, that debt is capable of being exagger

ated or misapprehended-if arguments are sometimes strangely used which would imply that, because they have done much, we ought to do nothing more; yet on the other hand, it is no less true that the obligation is one so vast and manifold that it can never as a whole be adequately measured. It is not only in possessions, available for use, enjoyment, and security; it is not only in language, laws, institutions, arts, religion; it is not only in what we have, but in what we are. For as character is formed by the action and reaction of the human being and the circumstances in which he lives, it follows that, as those circumstances vary, alters too, and he transmits a modified-it ought to be also an enlarged and expanding-nature onwards in his turn to his posterity, under that mysterious law which establishes between every generation and its predecessors a moral as well as a physical association.

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In what degree this process is marred, on the one hand, by the perversity and by the infirmity of man, or restored and extended, on the other, by the remedial provisions of the Divine mercy, this is not the place to inquire. The progress of mankind is upon the whole a chequered and an intercepted progress; and even where it is full formed, still, just as in the individual, youth has charms, that maturity under an inexorable law must lose, so the earlier ages of the world will ever continue to delight and instruct us by beauties that are exclusively or peculiarly their own. Again it would seem as though this progress (and here is a chastening and a humbling thought) were a progress of mankind, and not of the individual man; for it seems to be quite clear that whatever be the comparative greatness of the race now and in its infant or early stages, what may be called the normal specimens, so far as they have been made known to us, either through external form or through the works of the intellect, have tended rather to dwindle-or at least to diminish, than to grow in the highest elements of greatness.

But the exceptions at which these remarks have glanced, neither destroy nor materially weaken the profound moment of the broad and universal canon, that every generation of men, as they traverse the vale of life, are bound to accumulate, and in divers manners do accumulate, new treasuses for the race, and leave the world richer on their departure, for the advantage of their descendants, than, on their entrance, they themselves had found it. Of the mental portion of this treasure no small part is stored-and of the continuous work I have described no small part is performed-by universitics; which have been, I venture to say, entitled to rank

It is, I believe, a fact, and if so, it is a fact highly instructive and suggestive, that the university, as such, is a Christian institution. The Greeks, indeed, had the very largest ideas upon the training of man, and produced specimens of our kind with gifts that have never been surpassed. But the nature of man, such as they knew it, was scarcely at all developed; nay, it was maimed, in its supreme capacity-in its relations towards God. Hence, as in the visions of the prophet, so upon the roll of history, the imposing fabrics of ancient civilization never have endured. Greece has bequeathed to us her ever-living tongue and the immortal productions of her intellect. Rome made ready for Christendom the elements of polity and law; but the brilliant assemblage of endowments, which constitutes civilization, having no root in itself, could not brook the shocks of time and vicissitude; it came and it went; it was seen and it was gone :

among the greater lights and glories of fusion of intelligence which multiplies the Christendom. natural guardians of civilization. These are perhaps not merely isolated phenomena. Perhaps they are but witnesses, and but a few among many witnesses, to the vast change which has been wrought, since the advent of our Lord, in the state of man. Perhaps they re-echo to us the truth that, apart from sound and sure relations to its Maker, the fitful efforts of mankind must needs be worsted in the conflict with chance and change; but that, when by the dispensation of Christianity the order of our moral nature was restored, when the rightful king had once more taken his place upon his throne, then, indeed, civilization might come to have a meaning and a vitality such as had before been denied it. Then, at length, it had obtained the key to all the mysteries of the nature of man, to all the anomalies of its condition. Then it had obtained the ground plan of that nature in all its fulness, which before had been known only in remnants or in fragments; fragments of which, even as now in the toppling remains of some ancient church or castle, the true grandeur and the ethercal beauty were even the more We now watch, gentlemen, with a trem- conspicuous because of the surrounding ruins. bling hope, the course of that later and But fragments still, and fragments only, unChristian civilization which arose out of the til, by the bringing of life and immortality ashes of the old heathen world, and ask our- to light, the parts of our nature were reselves whether, like the Gospel itself, so that united, its harmony was re-established, our which the Gospel has wrought beyond itself life, heretofore a riddle unsolved, was at in the manners, arts, laws, and institutions length read as a discipline, and so obtained of men, is in such manner and degree salted its just interpretation. All that had before with perpetual life, that the gates of hell shall not prevail against it? Will the civilization, which was springing upwards from the days of Charlemagne, and which now, over the face of Europe and America, seems to present to us in bewildering conflict the mingled signs of decrepitude and of vigor, perish like its older 'types, and, like them, be known thereafter only in its fragments; or does it bear a charmed life, and will it give shade from the heat and shelter from the storm to all generations of men?

"Hunc tantum terris ostendent fata; neque ultra esse sinent."

In any answer to such a question, it would perhaps be easier to say what would not, than what would, be involved. But some things we may observe, which may be among the materials of a reply. The arts of war are now so allied with those of peace, that barbarism, once so terrible, is reduced to physical impotence; and what civilized man has had the wit to create, he has also the strength to defend. Thus one grand destructive agency is paralyzed. Time, indeed, is the great destroyer; but his power, too, is greatly neutralized by printing, by commerce which lays the foundations of friendship among nations, by the ease of communication which binds men together, by that dif

seemed idle conflict, wasted energy, barren effort, was seen to be but the preparation for a glorious future; and death itself, instead of extinguishing the last hopes of man, became the means and the pledge of his perfection.

It was surely meet that a religion aiming at so much on our behalf should, in its historical development, provide an apparatus of subsidiary means for the attainment of its noble end far beyond what man in earlier days had dreamed of. To some of the particular organs formed in this apparatus for carrying man upwards and onwards to the source of his being, I have already adverted. Read in the light of these ideas the appearance of the university among the great institutions of Christian civilization is a phenomenon of no common interest. Let us see whether, itself among the historical results of Christianity, it does not vindicate its origin, and repay, so to speak, the debt of its birth, by the service that it renders to the great work of human cultivation.

I do not enter, gentlemen, into the question from what source the university etymologically derives its name. At the very least, it is a name most aptly symbolizing the pur

pose for which the thing itself exists. For the head of all human knowledge, and be

the work of the university as such covers the whole field of knowledge, human and divine; the whole field of our nature in all its powers; the whole field of time, in binding together successive generations as they pass in the prosecution of their common destiny; aiding each to sow its proper seed and to reap its proper harvest from what has been sown before; storing up into its own treasure house the spoils of every new venture in the domain of mental enterprise, and ever binding the present to pay over to the future an acknowledgement at least of the debt which for itself it owes the past. If the work of improvement in human society under Christian influences be a continuous and progressive work, then we can well conceive why the king's daughter, foreshadowed in Holy Writ, has counted the university among her handmaids. If, apart from what may be the counsels of Providence as to ultimate success, it lay essentially in the nature of Christianity that it should aim at nothing less than the entire regeneration of human nature and society, such a conception as that of the university was surely her appropriate ally. Think as we will upon the movement of man's life and the course of his destiny, there is a fit association, and a noble and lofty harmony, between the greatest gift of the Almighty to our race, on the one hand, and the subordinate but momentous ministries of those chief institutions of learning and education, the business of one among which has gathered us to-day.

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cause it was, so to speak, in possession of
the ground, and in the exercise of very pow-
erful influence, at the period when the less
organized institutions for teaching began to
develop themselves into their final form of
universities. But the university was founded
in the principle of universal culture; and
the name Arts was intended to embrace
every description of knowledge that, rising
above mere handicraft, could contribute to
train the mind and faculties of man.
say, then, that the university was founded
in arts, was to assert the universality of its
work. The assertion was not less true, nor
less far-sighted, because those who first made
it may not have been conscious of its com-
prehending more than the studies of the
trivium and the quadrivium, which included
grammar, rhetoric, logic, arithmetic, music,
geometry, and astronomy. This catalogue
is indeed a brief one, as compared with the
countless branches of modern study; yet
within its narrow bounds it contains in prin-
ciple, at the least, the philosophy of speech,
the philosophy of the mind, the mathematical
sciences, pure and mixed, and the fine arts.
It is both more easy and more rational, all
circumstances taken into view, to admire
the vastness of the conception of the univer-
sity, than to wonder that it was at first but
partially unfolded and applied.

The sincerity, the sagacity, the energy of purpose, with which the old universitics were designed and organized may be discerned, as in other ways, so by the progressive exThe idea of the university, as we find it pansion of their studies. The Roman law, historically presented to us in the middle after remaining long almost forgotten, beage, was to methodize, perpetuate, and apply came known anew to Europe; and, as it all knowledge which existed, and to adopt grew to be a study, the universities provided and take up into itself every new branch as for it with their faculty of laws; and with it came successively into existence. These those degrees, principal and professors, various kinds of knowledge were applied for which call this day for my grateful appreciathe various uses of life, such as the time ap- tion. Again, when the final triumph of barprehended them. But the great truth was barism at Constantinople compelled Greek always held, and always kept in the centre learning to seek a home in the west, provisof the system, that man himself is the crown-ion began to be made forthwith in universiing wonder of creation; that the study of ties for its reception. I think my distinhis nature is the noblest study that the world guished brother, if I may presume so to call affords; and that, to his advancement and him (Professor Mansell), could tell us that improvement, all undertakings, all profes- one of the first of those foundations was made sions, all arts, all knowledge, all institutions in the very college at Oxford which he himare subordinated as means and instruments to their end.

The old and established principle was that the university had its base in the faculty of arts; Universitas fundata est in artibus. It was not meant by this maxim that the faculty of arts was to have precedence over all other faculties, for this honor was naturally and justly accorded to theology; both, we may suppose, because of the dignity of its subject-matter, which well may place it at

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self adorns. And the study, of which Greek
learning is the main and most fruitful as well
as the most arduous part, made its way un-
der the well-deserved name of humanity, to
the very head of the faculty of arts.
in all physical science man, guided in no
small degree by our own illustrious Bacon,
became content (in Bacon's language) to
acknowledge himself only the servant and
interpreter of Nature, and to walk in the
paths of patient observation, the ground was

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