thee, to see thy face?-worse for them to take pleasure in it. And the time will come, I hope, when we shall feel the unsatisfactoriness of our present hymns, and they will disappear from our religious services." But so long as Doddridge, Watts, and Wesley are still sung in Dissenting holes and corners, Mr. Arnold sees an opening for a sop to the Dissenters :-" Here are means for offering, without public detriment, a concession to Dissenters, and for gratifying their wishes. Many of them would like, in burying their friends, to sing a hymn at the grave. Let them." Was ever "Barbarian" or dominie more gracious? But this is not all that these unseemly Dissenters are to have, out of the special grace and mere bounty of their betters:-"The hymn at the grave is not the only concession which we can without public detriment make in this matter to the Dissenters. Many Dissenters prefer to bury their dead in silence. . . To silent funerals in the parish churchyard there can manifestly be, on the score of order, propriety, and dignity, no objection. . Whenever, therefore, it is desired that burial in the parish churchyard should take place in silence, the clergyman should be authorized and directed to comply with this desire." With these alternatives before him, what more can the nonconforming minion want? He may sing a hymn, if he likes; or he may hold his tongue if he likes.

Having dispensed these "mercies," Mr. Arnold puts on his scallop-cap, takes up his pilgrim staff, and turns his back on the whole lot. "And now I do really take leave of the question of Church and Dissent, as I promised."

But we should like to utter one word more than a joyful good-bye. Mr. Arnold quotes the Times as saying that some of the Dissenting preachers are becoming the equals of the best and ablest of those in the Church of England. It is possible that a "watchful spirit of jealousy" may not permit some of the Nonconformists to be satisfied with this compliment. At all events, Dr. Martineau, in his Introduction to Mr. Tayler's "Retrospect," says of the Independents that "in Biblical theology and in philosophy their attainments are carried, among the regularly trained men, considerably beyond the standard which satisfies the Church." There is one other remark which may be made upon this book. The name of Bishop Wilson does not, we believe, occur from end to end of it. have missed it.

If it does, we

TH

THE PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION AND HISTORY.*

HIS volume of 400 pages contains matter which will be in great part of it new to the readers of this REVIEW, though several of the papers will be recognized at once. Mr. Fairbairn modestly tells us that his essays are only "tentative"-studies preliminary to a work on “ The Philosophy and History of Religion." A glance at the author's general scheme will show that they can only be parerga; but it would be a great mistake to treat them lightly. They are the work of a student who is also an independent thinker, and we suspect they will be more used than referred to by name. In these reading days there is a great fancy for calling books of this kind "suggestive"-when they are mentioned at all-and quietly appropriating the suggestions. Sometimes the literary disguise is intentionally taken up; sometimes half-unconsciously. One is not always sure whether to call attention to a valuable work is the best service that can be tendered to the author. However, this is not a book for " cram," though the references to authorities are very abundant, and the amount of information conveyed in small compass is great indeed. We have here, as the author tells us, "the results of thought and

Studies in the Philosophy of Religion and History. By A. M. Fairbairn. London and Belfast: William Mullan & Son.

inquiry"-only we must lay stress upon the word "results," for nobody new to such topics would find his way through a single chapter. Mr. Fairbairn claims to be more than a lecturer or expounder: he gives you his opinions involved with the facts; and even becomes here and there a shade too much of the preacher. At least it strikes us so. It may be ever so true that Dr. Draper is a shallow thinker as well as a slipshod writer, and that his method in "The Conflict of Religion and Science" is a bad one; but the pages in which Mr. Fairbairn deals with the question raised by that book are almost too expatiatory. The tendency to a more than dominie gravity and fulness of style is, we submit, Mr. Fairbairn's rock ahead.

Mr. Fairbairn has so constructed his Index as to make it a sort of reasoned account of his volume, so that, in spite of the fear we have expressed about the unacknowledged uses to which such books may be put, we are tempted to give the conspectus of that portion of the work which deals with the history of civilization in different races :

PART II.-THE RACES IN CIVILIZATION.

I. Civilization.

Relation of Modern to Ancient.

The Individual and Society.

II. The Races-Their Pre-Historic State.

The Indo-European.

The Semitic.

III. The Fresh Races and the Old Cultures.

The New Civilizations not simply Imitations of Old.

Their Efficient and their Suggestive Cause.

Influence of Geographical Position and Ethnic Relations,

1. On Assyria.

2. On Phoenicia.

Semitic Character of their Civilizations.

Greece.
Rome.

The first section of the work is on "The Idea of God-Its Genesis and Development;" the second on "Theism and Scientific Speculation;" the third section is devoted to "The Belief in Immortality," which is followed up in both Greece and India. In the fourth section, Mr. Fairbairn discusses the place of the IndoEuropean and Semitic Races in History, under the heads of Civilization, Religion, Literature, and Philosophy; and the last great name we encounter in the book is that of Spinoza. Students and thinkers are so busy all over the civilized world with topics of this order, that even while a book like this is going through the press, new material is growing and gathering; and we shall be glad to learn in due time what so competent a writer as Mr. Fairbairn has to say, for example, upon the question of mythology among the Hebrews. In the meanwhile we commend these essays to students.

IT

CHILDREN'S BOOKS.*

T is to be hoped that the author of "Orion" is not ashamed of the "Goodnatured Bear," or "The London Doll." Indeed, we may be sure he is not; and the days are gone by in which there could be any reason of publishing etiquette or policy for keeping the nursery tales and the epic poem apart even in a catalogue.

*

Cicely's Choice: With a Frontispiece by A. J. Pasquier.

Giles's Minority: or, Scenes at the Red House. With Eight Illustrations.

In Dr. Johnson's otherwise admirable Life of Dr. Isaac Watts, there is one very stupid remark. After referring to the " Catechism," and the "Divine and Moral Songs," Johnson says that any one acquainted with the ordinary play of human motives will look with reverence upon a writer who is one moment engaged in "combating Locke," and another moment stooping to write for children. It is rather surprising that "the great Cham of literature" did not bethink himself before writing thus; for in all ages there have been examples of speculative writers and distinguished men of action who have been fond of children. As printed literature has increased in volume, the examples have become more numerous, or at all events more readily quotable; but between termini as wide apart as Dr. Watts and Victor Hugo, a long list could be made out.

As far back as 1851, the author of "Orion" wrote in Household Words a long and, in some respects, questionable article, entitled "A Witch in the Nursery." It was about Literature for the Young, and it contained, towards the close the following paragraph:

"What is to be done for children in this matter? The first step towards a reform that will strike most people, is by no means so easy of practical accomplishment. Some years ago, the author of The Good-natured Bear,-a Story for Children of All Ages,' went to a publisher, eminent for his juvenile books, and proposed the following work. He wished to awaken parents and guardians of children to the condition of nursery literature, and to warn them against a heap of favourite' books and tales as of most injurious tendency. The publisher was struck with the proposal; but after some days' consideration, he demurred to it, on the ground of the large amount of capital already embarked by many respectable houses in the trade in these very books; hundreds of thousands of which were profusely illustrated, and great numbers beautifully bound; he therefore thought it would seem invidious towards the trade, and that his motives would, at best, be misconstrued. The Good-natured Bear saw some reason in this, or, at any rate, received it as a good commercial objection; and, bowing to fate, agreed to modify his original proposal. Instead of denouncing all the bad books and tales by name, with all their death-dealing and alarming illustrations, he now proposed to denounce them only in general terms, on broad principles, and to specify by name only such books, tales, and songs as were good-beautiful and poetical in spirit, or humorous and amusing; and in no case containing cruelties, horrors, vices, and terrors of any kind. The publisher rubbed his hands with a beaming smile. This will do,' said he; this will do; and, by the way, I have myself published a number of books, exactly of this latter kind-beautiful in poetry, amiable in prose, humorous and amusing in spirit; and the illustrations and binding among the best in the trade; all of which you would, no doubt, specially mention.' The Good-natured Bear was carried, fainting, into a cab.

Where is a reform in the nursery library to come from? A real reform, both in the spirit and the letter, and not a sham,' that will look well in the advertisements? One cannot expect it to come from the children; for they are fascinated by what they fear. Almost as little reasonable will it be to expect such a reform to originate with the publishers of children's books, nearly all of whose present stock in trade is full of the old leaven of direct evil, or reckless fun. The real reform must begin with the parents. Directly they begin to think, the publishers will feel it, and respond."

Since the day when the Good-natured Bear got into these troubles with publishers, which were typical, publishers being very much alike all the world over,there have been great changes in children's literature. This has been partly, if not mainly, the result of the appearance of Andersen upon the scene. With all the

Deborah's Drawer: With Nine Illustrations.

Daisy's Companions: or, Scenes from Child Life. A Story for Little Girls. With Eight Illustrations.

Little Prescription and other Tales. With Six Illustrations.

Doll World: or, Play and Earnest. A Study from Real Life. Illustrations by C. A. Saltmarsh.

With Eight

All these books are by Mrs. Robert O'Reilly, and are published by Messrs. George

Bell and Sons, London.

sweet and happy lights of the most modern culture, he struck once more the keynote of the old folk lore, infusing modern harmonies into the work. Children read for the sake of the old key-note, the nursery tale music, while older folk read for the sake of the second or inner meaning. It is greatly to be wished that writers who cannot follow in his steps, would leave this kind of writing alone. Cynicism for the nursery we have had in great abundance, and the majority of adult readers are as ready for the brummagem article as for the real product. They are, necessarily, in too much haste to distinguish; their palates have not been cultivated up to the point of discrimination; and yet, when challenged with their incapacity, they can easily ride off upon the plea that these are matters of taste.

The writings of Mrs. Gatty and her daughter, of Mr. Allingham, and one or two others, have had a powerful effect in directing public taste into right channels in these matters.

In the article in Household Words from which we have quoted, Mr. R. H. Horne took to some of the old nursery tales objections which we think were fantastic. He complained that they had in them so much fighting and slaughter. His essay opened indeed by quoting the well-known jest of Whately, that persecution was taught even in the nursery :

"Old Daddy Longlegs

Wouldn't say his prayers;
Take him by the left leg

And throw him down stairs."

But this remark was a jest-at least we hope so, for the credit of Whately's perspicacity. There are nursery tales in which, the symbolic or mythological meaning being obscured, there seems to be injustice or cruelty; for instance, "Jack the Giant Killer" seems, we say, to the adult who pauses to analyze the narrative; but we should be very much surprised to see a child who received any moral idea, one way or the other, from a nursery rhyme. A story like that of "Jack and the Beanstalk" is not like a police report. The whole thing is too remote for moral suggestion of any kind. It is quite unnecessary to explain to a child that the Giant's harp means the Wind, or that all such stories are myths of the conquest of man over the wild forces of Nature. It would spoil the fun. When you begin by sending a boy up a bean-stalk to kill a giant, the whole business is taken so far out of the range of common things that you need not fear your little boy will steal sweetstuff because Jack carried off the harp, any more than that he will kill his uncle because, in another tale,

"To finish Jack's story

Of slaughtering glory,

That wicked old giant Galganthus

Jack sent to the dead,

For he cut off his head,

Just as you would crop off a polyanthus."

A child thinks of the killing of a giant as an adult thinks of the killing of a tiger. And what harm?

The precise reform which the writer in Household Words looked forward to has not yet come about, nor will it come. And no extensive reform of any kind can be expected till the majority of parents are more cultivated, not to say till they have by nature higher qualities of mind and heart to begin with. As it happens, the best things that have been done in this department of literature have originated with certain publishers who have rather felt for a market than waited for one. There is now a fair quantity of really good children's writing; but of course there is still more which is bad or indifferent. With two or three exceptions, all the periodicals for the very young are tracts-they are not literature at all. The selection of topics is carried forward upon the coarsest and most obvious principles.

The vanity of the young people is deliberately pandered to, and that of their parents too, for that matter. Not the slightest account is taken of the fact that the child ceases to be delightful either to himself or his elders if you take away the innocence and the unconscious humour. The humour of this sort of writing is, nearly all of it, conscious and deliberate. More than half of it, indeed, turns upon matters which have no existence for any human being that does not read newspapers and novels. It is actually thought proper for children to talk about the "upper ten thousand;" to call a mother "a maternal parent;" or to use phrases such as that respected individual." Cynical turns of thought, such as even no man of the world under thirty can understand, are thought fit for little girls of eight or nine. As for the innocence—the happy innocence-what becomes of it? In these tract-periodicals the children are taken to the very threshold of crime, and over it; not incited to it, of course, but made to think about it, and about human misery in general. Pictures and stories of the wretchedness of the back slums of cities-tales which run through long records of sordid sufferingare thought proper for these rosebuds of our homes, if the writing be only sprinkled thick with pseudo-evangelical allusions. Add some contemptible verses, and some still more contemptible Scripture conundrums, and your child's magazine is complete. But it is not literature.

Except within a certain narrow circle, children's books of late years do not come under these precise condemnations; though many of them are quite bad enough on other grounds. The series to which we now introduce the reader are admirable. Mrs. O'Reilly's books belong to a school which may be said to represent the genteel comedy of children's literature-a school which has greatly flourished of late years. The scenes are laid for the most part amid the life of the classes who are well-to-do; there is no violent pathos, as indeed there ought not to be; there is no farce, or burlesque, which also is objectionable in writing intended for the young, and unwelcome to little readers: the general effect is pleasant and picturesque; the key is not pitched too high for quite ordinary purposes; the innocent prejudices of society are allowed free play in the stories; common motives of action, such as love of praise and want of energy, are not treated harshly; and there is a perpetual succession of small incident and natural chit-chat. Of course, in writing for the young, a great deal that is welcome in the "society" novel can find no place, while simplicity and innocent humour must take up much room, to say nothing of the tenderness. Good books for children must, so to speak, be always within hail of our deepest affections. But, allowing for these points, there is much in the pleasant little tales of Mrs. O'Reilly and the school in which she is a skilled mistress, to remind one of Mr. Trollope. Something similar -to take another instance-might be said of the admirable stories of Mrs. J. H. Ewing, though this must be read with the exclusion of work like "The Brownies." The matter of Mrs. Ewing is, besides, more closely packed than that of Mrs. O'Reilly.

But it is scarcely possible, we think, to read "Cicely's Choice" without thinking of Mr. Trollope. It is an admirably natural and pleasing story of a half-spoilt young lady, who, in a dependent position, had, at sixteen years of age, her girlishly haughty notions of making herself independent of the help of her friends. The first chapter, in which we are introduced to the two leading characters, Cicely and Aunt Joan, is the very model of an easy opening. There is no formal laying of the cloth; no set statement of any problem to come; and yet it is all there; so that when you get to the end, you look back, and feel that it was "all there" from the first.