taught him thus bitterly. He sees that no evil spirit may yet prompt an act of evil. He observes Meg cover her baby with a part of her own wretched dress, adjust its squalid rags to make it pretty in its sleep, hang over it, smooth its little limbs, and love it with the dearest love that God has given to mortal creatures. And he screams to the Chimes to save her, and she is saved. And the moral of it all is, that he, the simple halfstarved ticket-porter, has his portion in the New-Year no less than any other man; that the poor require infinite beating out of shape before their human shape is gone; that, even in their frantic wickedness, there may be good in their hearts triumphantly asserting itself, though all the Aldermen alive say No; and that the truth of the feeling to be held towards them, is Trustfulness, not Doubt, nor Putting them Down, nor Filing them Away. 'know,' cries the old man in an inspiration the Bells convey to him, that our inheritance is held in store for us by Time. I 'know there is a Sea of Time to rise one day, before which all 'who wrong us or oppress us will be swept away like leaves. I 6 see it, on the flow!

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And as the imaginative reader fancies he sees it too; as he listens for the rush that shall sweep down quacks and pretenders, Cutes, Filers, and Bowleys; peradventure, as his lively fancy may even see old Toby clambering safely to the rock that shall protect him from the sweeping wave, and may watch him still hearkening to his friends the Bells, as, fading from his sight, they peal out final music on the waters. Toby wakes up over his own fire. He finds the newspaper lying at his foot; sees Meg sitting at a table opposite, making up the ribands for her wedding the morrow; and hears the bells, in a noble peal, ringing the old year out and the new year in. And as he rushes to kiss Meg, Richard dashes in to get the first new-year's kiss before him—and gets it; and every body is happy; and neighbours press in with good wishes; and there is a small band among them, Toby being acquainted with a drum in private, which strikes up gaily; and the sudden change, and the ringing of the Bells, and the lively music, so transport Toby, that he is, when last seen, leading off a country-dance in an entirely new step, consisting of that old familiar Trot in which he transacts the business of his calling.

May this wise little tale second the hearty wishes of its writer, and at the least contribute to the coming vear that portion of happiness which waits always upon just intentions and kind thoughts.

ART. VI.-The Life and Correspondence of Thomas Arnold, D.D. By A. P. STANLEY, M.A. 2 vols. 8vo. London:

1844.

HIS is a striking book-the Life of our English Arnaud. It THIS is not only delightful in itself, but is made, if possible, still more so, by the reception it has met with. A few years back, Dr Arnold was misunderstood, misrepresented, and proscribed. Such journalists as Mr Theodore Hook maligned him every Sunday. Such friends as Mr Keble disowned him for years together. The Archbishop of Canterbury closed against him the Lambeth pulpit, on the consecration of Bishop Stanley. His unpopularity with the clergy was so intense, that the Whig ministry durst not elevate him to his proper place in his profession. Altogether, the barbarous noise' by which he was environed, was as much of a martyrdom as modern persecutors can well hope to see. He was put out of the synagogues, and those who reviled him, assumed that they did God service! Yet let good men be of good cheer. Sursum qorda! Arnold, the while, never bated a jot either of heart or hope, and his praises are now on every tongue. Whether he were right or wrong in his schemes of ecclesiastical polity,' we care comparatively little. the other hand, we are sure there can be no truths to be discovered upon that subject, of which we stand half so much in need as of the spectacle which he has obtained for us-that of

On

*The Archbishop's difficulty would appear to have been a general apprehension of personal unpopularity, rather than any objection to parti cular opinions; since Arnold, in 1842, on acknowledging a sermon from Dr Hawkins, expresses (Letter 278) his delight at their agreement on the Priest question, (the fundamental one of the whole matter,) and that the Archbishop should have wished a sermon to be printed, containing so much truth, and truth at this time. 'so much needed.' A few months before, in reference to the consecration of the first Protestant Bishop of Jerusalem, he triumphantly remarks, (Letter 257)- Thus the idea of my Church Reform pamphlet, which was so ridiculed and condemned, is now carried into practice by the Archbishop of Canterbury himself. For the Protestant Church of Jerusalem will comprehend persons using different liturgies and subscribing different articles of Faith; and it will sanction these differences, and hold both parties to be equally its members. Yet it 'was thought ridiculous in me to conceive, that a National Church might include persons using a different ritual, and subscribing different 'articles.'

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men of a hundred different opinions bowing down in reverence before his Christian life and noble nature. Truth will be no loser by it in the end; while, from the very first, to godliness and to charity it is great gain.

A partial re-action had taken place a little before Arnold's death. This was greatly owing to the influence of his pupils.* They came up, fresh from his hands, to Oxford, and brought with them, in their devoted attachment and their exemplary conduct, the most unexceptionable of all testimonies in his favour. His personal presence there as Professor of History, must in time have effected more. But he had scarcely entered upon the experiment, when his death transferred to Mr Stanley, a friend and pupil, the gratifying office of vindicating his character by a faithful representation of his life.

Few persons of Dr Arnold's station have been so much before the public during their lifetime, and in so many ways. He was the first English editor of Thucydides, and the first accommodater of Niebhur to English tastes and understandings. He was also for some fourteen years the prince of schoolmasters on that most trying of all stages-an English public school. And he lived to stand forward, almost as long, an uncompromising opponent of that new form of Oxford priestcraft, which (no less cun

*The testimony of Dr Moberley, head master of Winchester, on the state of English public schools and of the University of Oxford, till within these last ten or fifteen years, is very remarkable. What would they not have said of us, if we had said only half as much against these celebrated institutions-the well-endowed and highly-favoured nurseries of the English aristocracy and the English clergy? The tone of young 'men, whether they came from Winchester, Eton, Rugby, Harrow, or wherever else, was universally irreligious. A religious under-graduate 'was very rare, very much laughed at, when he appeared; and I think, I may confidently say, hardly to be found among public school men.. A most singular and striking change has come upon our public schools... This change is undoubtedly part of a general improve'ment of our generation, in respect of piety and reverence; but I am sure, that to Dr Arnold's personal earnest simplicity of purpose, strength of character, power of influence and piety, which none who ' ever came near him could mistake or question, the carrying of this improvement into our schools is mainly attributable. He was the 'first. Regretting that they were often deeply imbued with principles which we disapproved,' he adds, it soon began to be matter of observation to us in the University, that his pupils brought with them quite a different character to Oxford than what we knew else⚫ where thoughtful, manly-minded, conscious of duty and obligation.'-(Vol. i. p. 172.)

ning than audacious) has been perplexing our generation, seeking the dishonour of the Reformation, and sowing dissension in the Church of England. Under one or other of these titles, as a scholar, a schoolmaster, or a polemic, the name of Arnold was familiar to most people: while that in him which was most worth knowing what he really was as a Man-continued, notwithstanding, to be little known out of a small circle, beyond his family and school. It might have been learned, to be sure, in his characteristic sermons. It lay there open as the day. But people cannot be compelled to read sermons; nor (if they read them) prevented from putting a preacher whom they hate, on the awkward list of those ungracious pastors' who have a lofty standard for their congregations, and a very moderate one for themselves.

A general ignorance of a man's character, such as we are supposing to have been the case concerning Arnold, affords an opportunity for successful calumny; but, of itself, it does not supply a motive for the calumny, or account for its success. In this instance, however, the explanation of both phenomena lies near at hand. The cry was a professional one at first; and, in such a case, the public at large are seldom at the trouble of enquiring into particulars for themselves. They naturally take up the impression entertained of a man in his own profession; and, unfortunately, the clerical prejudices which temporary provocations raised into a storm, had their rise in too enduring causes entirely to subside as long as Arnold was alive.

The Oxford Malignants,' as a body, had an immediate interest in damaging the credit of their most formidable antagonist. Knowing little of Arnold personally, they might satisfy their consciences by holding it to be impossible that any honest man could suspect Mr Newman of dishonesty. Mr Keble might.

* Arnold had not one measure for himself and another for other people. His quarrel was with Newmanism, not Newmanites; with the system and the party, not with individuals. The system he thought most mischievous, schismatical, unchristian, and profane;' and in the degree which it altered the due proportions of our moral nature, approaching to a moral fault. To denounce it, track it through its windings, and pursue it to the death, was a sacred and appointed task. The last words which fell from his pen on earth were heavy with this burden. But, before he could be offended with individual members of the party, they must have been guilty of what he considered an individual offence. Arnold was far too generous to withhold his testimony from an adversary. He was credulous in favour of their persons; and, on stripping to fight, shook hands. Witness the tribute paid to their pure and boly

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have told them better. But his returning kindness scarcely came in time to disabuse his party of their ill opinion. The

lives' in his pamphlet on Church Reform, (1833;) and his public declaration, (Preface to Vol. iv. of Sermons,) that he nothing doubted that there were points in Mr Newman in which he might learn truth from his teaching, and should be glad if he could come near him in his practice; as well as his assurance to Dr Hawkins, (1834,) that no word of his had impeached the sincerity or general character of the men, and that, in this respect, he would carefully avoid every expression that might be thought uncharitable."

It was not, therefore, for being a Newmanite that Mr Newman can have fallen in his good opinion; but for what appeared to him personal violations of truth and justice. The violent proceedings of the Newmanite party against Dr Hampden were, in Arnold's eyes, so glaringly unjust that it altered his opinion of all concerned in them.-(His article in this Journal, Vol. Ixiii. 1836.) It was no longer a question how he ought to feel towards persons holding false opinions, but how he ought to feel towards persons guilty individually of unjust and oppressive acts.

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He saw in the privilegium voted by the Convocation, nothing but Lynch law. In the place of an Oxford convocation, there rose before him the image (which Mr Stanley says he could not put away from him,) of the nonjurors reviling Burnet of the Council of Constance condemning Huss-of the Judaizers banded together against St Paul. It was a repetition by High Churchmen of the reception given by the Ca tholics to Peter Martyr, when he went down as divinity professor to Oxford in Edward the Sixth's time the same outcry, and on the same grounds. No man's mind can be fairly judged of by such a specimen as N has given of Hampden's. He has in several places omitted • sentences in his quotations, which give exactly the soft and Christian effect, to what without them sounds hard and cold.'-(Let. 106.) There was downright evil acting in it, and the more I consider it the • more does my sense of its evil rise. Certainly, my opinion of the principal actors in that affair has been altered to them personally. I do not say it should make me forget all their good qualities, but I consider it as a very serious blot in their moral character.'-(Let. 107141.) I do not think that John Gerson was a bad man: yet he was a principal party in the foul treachery and murder committed against John Huss at the Council of Constance.'-(Let. 108.)- (099 2

It would take a volume, at least the size of Pascal's Letters, to expose the want of truth of the leaders of this movement. In this charge we implicate the leaders only. We willingly separate the seducers from the seduced-the false shepherd from the deluded sheep. A crowd of followers may be innocent enough. The trick was, once to get them on the stream the current would do the rest, and carry them out to sea, The unsuspecting convertite is no way answerable for the cunning mechanism of the trapdoors and inclined planes, on which, if he can be only tempted to set his foot, he infallibly slides on. Arnold has been reproached by one of their writers, for his foolish way of going about his

VOL. LXXXI. NO. CLXIII.

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