good models, even those which are sacred in the imagination of men, and dare to love God without mediator or veil.» *

Did it never occur to Arnold that to all but a narrow circle of national churchmen this incessant laudation of a national Church, and this flagellation of dissent from it, might become a little wearisome? It is as if, falling in with an "old boy," of our own school, ourselves meanwhile being "old boys" too, he should commence to assail our ear in the language of mature life with endless criminations of the puerilities and stupidities of the boys in that school. Such an "old boy," we take it, could the youngsters hear him, would be called by them worse than cultured, he would be called "cracked."

Were he not continually girding at Englishmen and English ways of viewing things, it would be hardly fair thus to pillory Arnold for his Anglicism. But he is so fond of upbraiding us for what he considers our faults, that it is well to show that he possesses the same peculiarities himself. He laughs at our narrowness, and is himself circumscribed. "The Englishman in general," he says, "believes point-blank, that for a thing to be an anomally is absolutely no objection to it whatever; " yet was anything more anomalous than his speculative and abstract semi-metaphysical, semi-poetical interpretation of the old Hebraic sacred literature - his "Hebraism," his << stream of tendency," his "not ourselves," his "Muse of Righteousness," his "the Eternal" ? He lauds thc Zeit-Geist, but his Zeit is that of his day and his Geist that of his nation. He scoffs at sectarianism, yet is unable to see any good in any sect save his own. He applauds the "grand style," and writes a flippant one. He touches on themes to the vast majority of his readers serious and sacred, and he touches them superciliously, almost jocosely.

Nor did Arnold's purely literary studies lead him into the highest planes. His introduction to Ward's "English Poets" is certainly high; but there he was in his clement; he was dealing with poetry, and his feeling for poetry was always keen and accurate. But the men he singled out for study are not men of the first rank: the De Guérin, Amiel, Tolstoï, Joubert, Sénancour, Spinoza, Heine, General Grant. these lived, if not in the byways of thought and action, at least not in the * "Works," vol. v., p. 121 (Ed. Boston, 1883).

highways. If he studies Homer, it is to descant on how best to translate him. Who, on the other hand, were the men with whom Carlyle dealt? Goethe, Cromwell, Frederick the Great, Burns, Schiller, Voltaire, Johnson, Scott. And if too he deals with Richter and Werner and Novalis, with Diderot and Mirabeau and Knox, how great he makes these to seem! And who are the men with whom Emerson dealt?"Representative men" Plato and Shakespeare, Napoleon and Montaigne, Goethe and Swedenborg. In his second series of "Essays in Criticism," Arnold certainly dealt with Milton, with Gray, Keats, Wordsworth, Byron, and Shelley; but these essays were merely addresses, prefixes, piefaces, or magazine articles, and one and all are tainted with the inadequacy inherent in these. True, too, he propped his mind, so he tells a friend,t on Homer, Sophocles, Epictetus, Marcus Aurelius; and he everywhere shows keen sympathy and familiarity with the world's master-minds. Nevertheless, the deliberate studies of men which he gave to the world are of men not in the highways of thought and action.

Again, there is something in the very insistence and persistence of his advocacy of culture that impresses one as uncultured. Acquaintance with "the best that has been thought and known" is scarcely an adequate definition for that most subtle efflorescence of the human spirit. Culture is an organic growth, a spontaneous development, the product of birth,breeding, and education. Education alone will not confer culture, any more than will mere birth. Well, to occupy one's time in enforcing upon the masses the necessity of their "getting" culture, as if it were a thing to be got by attending the first Board school round the corner or entering the first university northwest of London, smacks just a little of that sort of attitude which by the late James Russell Lowell was termed "Anglicism.' Doubtless there is an Anglicism that is highly laudable, a haughtiness, a doggedness, a stubbornness, a persistence, an inflexibility, born of self-confidence and confidence in the rightness and justice of the cause, that sort of Anglicism is splendid; and when its weapon is an ultimatum or the sword, it builds up an Empire splendid indeed. But to letters such Anglicism is not perhaps a help.

"Poems, i., 2.

Arnold in reality lacked that very urbanity upon which evidently he plumed himself. Urbane he was in a certain sense, in the sense in which the nitid citizen is urbane when, as I have said, he rallies his suburban cousins. He was exclusive, too, both in his tastes and his sympathies; and "exclusiveness," as Emerson said, "is deadly." Lastly, he is not, in his own phrase, "tonic" enough. Even in his poems, that "hopefulness" which he praises Emerson for possessing so abundantly, and that “happiness" which he upbraids Carlyle for not possessing enough, are both sadly wanting. And it is surely doubtful if anything not tonic will live. Men are influenced by things positive, concrete, practical, applicable to their everyday lives. It is those who do what Cicero says Socrates did, bring down philosophy (and for "philosophy" we may to-day read religion," for what was "philosophy" to the Stoic is to the Christian "religion"), it is the men who bring down philosophy to the business and bosoms of men, that influence men.

What, then, has hitherto made Arnold's name so great? Well, as I have said, Matthew Arnold was one of those rare men who are greater than their works. Despite his provinciality, his parochialism, despite a mode of enforcing a tenet or attacking a theory seemingly suited only for his country and his class, despite a limited horizon and a one-sided view,

though the very books in which his influence was embodied may perish, that influence will survive. He touched, too, on themes in his day much in men's minds. That rationalistic storm before which the Church now bows its head, but before which then it did its best to stand firm, was thought by some, and no doubt thought by himself, to have been turned aside by his "better apprehension" of the Bible. His works were by High Churchmen regarded as a sort of lightning-conductor through which the electric fluid passed safely over the sacred edificethough no doubt by Low Churchmen that lightning-conductor was thought to have been to that edifice most ineffectually affixed. He wrote, too, at a time when culture certainly was a desideratum, and when few people were found bold enough to assert the desirableness of that, then considered, highly un-British commodity. And he wrote in the most pellucid of prose, a prose not, it must be admitted, untainted by mannerism, but still most fascinating. And he was always simple, simple to the verge of faultiness; and simplicity always wins its way. Nevertheless, not timeliness of theme nor courage of opinion nor fascination of style will in themselves carry a man's work far beyond the age in which he lived. To do that his work must possess weightier things than these. Arnold's poetry may have them; his prose has not.

ARNOLD HAULTAIN.

A

VERY interesting article, entitled "Holland's Place in Europe," appeared in SELF CULTURE for November. It contained one statement, however, which is hardly justified by the facts: "We believe in maintaining all the small states of Europe [excepting Portugal, which ought to coalesce with Spain], as being the freest, the best governed," etc. It is the words in brackets with which I cannot agree. They indicate, as appears to me, a misconception of actual conditions, and convey an implied injustice to Portugal.

First, as to area, Portugal is one of the largest of the small European states. Holland has only 12,648 square miles; Denmark, 14, 124; Greece, 25,041; Switzerland,

15,892; and Belgium, 11,372; while Portugal has 34,038 square miles, and is also second to Holland alone of these states in her colonial possessions, which include 592,706 square miles.

As regards population, Holland, exclusive of colonies, numbers 4,548,596 souls, as reported in 1895; Denmark, 2,185,159; Greece, 2, 187, 208; Switzerland, 2,918,608; Belgium, 6,093.798; and Portugal, 4,708,178.

Thus we see that in area Portugal stands first among these small states and second in population, while, as a colonial power, she holds a second place, in this respect more than doubling the colonial possessions left to Spain since the war of the latter with the United States. So far as

concerns area and population, therefore, there is no more reason why Portugal should be merged into Spain than there is for the other small European states to be absorbed by the Powers adjoining them.

But it may be urged that geographical position suggests such an international union of these two adjacent states; but were this a sufficient reason, any larger power would have an equal right to demand union with a lesser adjoining state. This principle, if once allowed, would result in the extinction of every nation unable to resist its neighbor, and much attendant injustice and incongruous amalgamation. But supposing this principle were carried out in this case by mutual agreement, I still maintain that if it holds good as concerns Portugal and Spain, it would by parity of reasoning hold good with Holland and Germany, Denmark and Germany, or Belgium and France.

The only possible reason why Portugal should "coalesce with Spain" must therefore be founded on a supposed similarity of tastes, character, disposition, and a mutual congeniality and regard that would seem to make a union suggested by propinquity perfectly natural, proper, and beneficial, the marriage of two affinities now temporarily separated by accidental and removable causes. And this I suppose to have been in the mind of the author when he made that assertion in his article on "Holland's Place in Europe."

But nothing could be farther from the facts than to assume such a supposition to be true. The Portuguese and the Spaniards are of distinct races and origin, as distinct as the Basques are from the French, as the Scotch are from the Dutch, as the Danes are from the Germans. Although both now show mixed blood, as in the case of every people in Europe, the character of the original stock of each so far asserts itself as to maintain its dominating influence through the fluctuations of ages. The Portuguese, like the Spaniards, although probably in less proportion, have Punic, Latin, Moorish, Jewish, and Gothic blood in their veins. But they are as distinct from the Spaniards, both in looks and character, as the French are from the Italians. This, and the fact that the Portuguese deeply resent the repeated ineffectual attempts of Spain to absorb their plucky little kingdom, have produced an intense and chronic aversion and watch

fulness on their part. This sentiment has been aggravated by the lies the Spaniards have circulated about them over Europe, and the supercilious contempt which, with characteristic Spanish hauteur, they have displayed towards them. Properly conscious of the stupendous achievements their history records, accomplished, too, by such slender resources, the Portuguese deeply and justly resent this conduct. It is safe to assert that no European nation has accomplished more under such disadvantages than little Portugal, surrounded as she has been on two sides by a far more numerous and once powerful nation like Spain, and difficult of access from the rest of Europe.

In their social and domestic relations the two nations resemble each other. Like all the Latin races, they both entertain peculiar notions regarding women, surrounding them with unreasonable restrictions and keeping them in a semiseclusion. The Romans borrowed such ideas about the relations of the sexes from the East, for they are entirely unknown in the practice of northern races. But the more recent influence of the Moors on the Peninsula doubtless intensified such customs among the Spanish and Portuguese. It should be added that, as in the Orient, this jealous supersensitiveness regarding the character and position of woman has little force among the lower classes and the peasantry; as in the case of the deformed little feet of Chinese women, it is in a degree a sign of aristocracy, a prerogative chiefly of the middle and especially the upper classes; and this, perhaps, is one reason why it continues to prevail to our time.

In the pursuit of literature and in painting, the Spaniards have, beyond question, far surpassed the Portuguese. With the exception of Camoëns's immortal "Lusiad» and some fine lyric poetry, Portugal has little to compare with the vast and magnificent literature of Spain, from the ballads of chivalry to Cervantes and Lope de Vega, and, in a less degree, even to this century. One looks also in vain to find among the galleries of Lisbon for any signs of a Portuguese Murillo or Velasquez, although his own countrymen claim great merit for Gran Vasco. But in the field of architecture, that bright little country compares favorably with the best that Europe has produced in the styles of the later Gothic or the Renaissance.

Among the works of the first of these periods, what is there in Europe more exquisitely lovely than the cloisters and Capella Imperfeita at Batalha, more daring, original, or skilful than the church and monastery at Belem, more chaste and stately than the superb church at Alcobaça? While in the latter period there is nothing more perfect in style, more complete and conscientious in execution, than the chapel which is attached to the sumptuous, though now deserted, palace of Mafra, or more decoratively magnificent than the chapel of St. John at Lisbon. And thus it is throughout Portugal; whether at Evora, or Coimbra, at Cintra, or at Braga, throughout the country one will find beautiful and elaborate examples of the genius of the Portuguese architects. If Portugal were not so far aside, among the byways of Europe, if it were more frequently visited, the attractions it has to offer the cultivated tourist and man of taste would be more widely known and appreciated. And here it may be apropos to add that there is no country in Europe that within the same space presents such beautiful scenery, such a variety of nature's aspects. Noble mountains snowcapped or robed in purple, vast flowery savannahs, hills crested with mediæval castles, valleys dowered with verdure, magnificent forests of picturesque cork, arid plains skirted by gray olive groves, rivers rushing through stupendous gorges or gliding by a wealth of vineyards or orange plantations, and beetling seacliffs commanding mysterious prospects over the illimitable azure of the Atlantic, are all to be found in this romantic little kingdom in a profusion and contrasted variety nowhere surpassed or perhaps equalled.

The customs of Portugal, with certain local variations, resemble those of Spain. The cuisine is better. Both, as we have seen, are tinctured by contact with the Moors. The same profuse courtesy and outward suavity is common to both, as reregards the middle classes and gentry. But the Portuguese are more genuine and sincere than their neighbors; more amiable, less haughty, irascible, and quick to take offence, or prate about that intangible, evasive quality called honor, of which one hears so much in France and Spain and finds so little. The lower classes are likewise less brutal and more differentially civil to their equals and superiors than

those of Spain.

The knife and the vendetta are not nearly so apparent in Portugal as with Spaniards or Italians — or, I regret to add, as in some parts of our own enlightened country. The Portuguese, like most European races, have had their periods of cruelty, or rather indifference to suffering and slaughter, especially when under the inexorable tyranny of the Inquisition. But that institution never obtained as firm a grip on the Portuguese character as in Spain, and bullfights, although exhibited in Lisbon, and in Lisbon alone, are controlled by some limitations, such as that the horns of the bull shall be blunted, nor shall he be slaughtered in the arena; in fact, that bloody sport has never become thoroughly naturalized in Portugal.

Such mildness, such characteristics as these, have led the Spaniards, and others as well, who should know better, to sneer at the Portuguese as weak, mean-spirited, and pusillanimous. But it requires only a slight knowledge of Portuguese history to be aware that quite the reverse is the fact. Few, if any, countries have suffered so little from the horrors of civil war as Portugal; on the other hand, no country has surpassed her in heroism, daring, and pertinacity in resisting aggression or in pursuing foreign conquests. Spain certainly has no occasion to despise Portuguese courage and manhood. At the famous battle of Aljubarrota the Spaniards, led by their king, suffered an overthrow similar to that of Crecy, as regards the numbers engaged, the disproportion in the size of the armies, and the losses of the vanquished. When Portugal came for a time under the iron rule of Spain and of that monster Philip II, it happened only because, after the death of Dom Sebastian, at Alcazar Quivir, the Spanish monarch, by virtue of royal intermarriages prior to his reign, was the next, or at least the strongest, heir at law. But in the war by which the Portuguese regained their independence, they invariably whipped the Spanish armies in six successive pitched battles. In the Peninsular campaigns also of Wellington, his Portuguese allies rendered him very valuable aid.

In addition to these glorious memories, which stimulate the aversion of the Portuguese towards the Spaniards, they also have the consciousness of their superb conquests in the East Indies, accomplished while Spain was reducing Mexico and

South America.

The Asiatics, whom the former conquered with forces vastly less, were of a higher civilization than the American aborigines, more really warlike, and acquainted with the horse, and also with gunpowder, which was not the case with the Mexicans, Peruvians, and Auracanians. The valor shown in the one case was equal to the other, and the wealth brought to Portugal as a result was probably greater for a century or two than that brought to Spain. The sagacity and ability of the line of sovereigns of Portugal at that period were fully equal to those traits manifested by Ferdinand the Catholic, Charles V, and Philip II, while in breadth of view, magnanimity, and humanity, they exceeded those famous Spanish rulers. And this suggests the trait of national genius in which the Portuguese have always been superior to the Spaniards, and perhaps all the Latin races even to this day, and second only to the English and Americans; I refer to their achievements and abilities as seamen and navigators. Probably the greatest feats of navigation in history, at least since Eric sailed to Vineland, and leaving out of question the little known periplus of Hanno the Carthagenian, were the discovery of America by Columbus, the discovery of the Cape of Good Hope by Bartholomew Diaz, the passage to India by Vasco da Gama, and, perhaps the most arduous and tremendous of all in fact, if not in results, the circumnavigation of the world, the appalling voyage across the Pacific, by Magellan. Spain received the credit of two of these enterprises because sailed under her auspices; but Columbus, who led one of those two, was an Italian, who obtained the first inspiration for his immortal expedition during his life among the hardy Portuguese navigators at Lisbon. Magellan, the commander of the other, was a Portuguese who left Lisbon because of affronts he had received there. Diaz and Da Gama were Portuguese captains and sailed fleets of their own country. Thus three of these four great expeditions were navigated by Portuguese commanders, and the fourth owed its origin to Portuguese inspiration.

Twenty years before Columbus settled and married at Lisbon, the celebrated Dom Henri established an observatory and a school of maritime exploration at Sagres on Cape St. Vincent, and the Portuguese were scouring the Atlantic,

and discovering the islands and the Cape of Good Hope. The enterprise the Spaniards exhibited for a time after the Columbian discoveries was contrary to the genius of the people, which was military rather than maritime; it was abnormal, and after leading to a sickening display of greed, bloodshed, and fanaticism, a reaction of apathy followed from which Spain has never recovered. But the maritime expeditions of Portugal were the spontaneous expressions of the yearnings of a nation of sea rovers, who thus found a natural vent for a peculiarly national genius. Although the Portuguese, like other nations of that period, were under the dreadful dominion of the clergy, they were not by nature fanatics like the Spaniards, and a lust for proselyting and disembowelling or roasting heretics, while sacking their treasures, was not with them a prime factor in urging them to push their fleets to distant seas and fresh fields of discovery. They were great sailors and navigators, not inquisitors, and they continue to furnish some of the world's best mariners to this very day.

Our fishing and whaling fleets are largely manned by Portuguese, and it is safe to say that they are little inferior to our own native Yankees, whether in the forecastle or on the quarter deck. They

have all the qualities of the born sailor, such as one looks for among the northern races, but rarely finds among the Latin peoples to the same degree. I have sailed with Portuguese many a time, and must admit that I have a high respect for their maritime talents. One of my liveliest experiences was a cruise in a sailing ship engaged in smuggling Portuguese out of the Azore Islands, who were seeking to avoid the conscription. We had many adventures, and the daring and skill of the Portuguese sailor were brilliantly displayed. Like most European countries, Portugal is obliged to maintain her standing army by conscription. Those who can pay $200 can buy exemption. But many are too poor to furnish that sum, and hence seek to fly the country. In this way a number have reached the United States, and with others of their fellow-countrymen here, who have emigrated for other reasons, have entered our fishing and naval fleets to our decided advantage.

For the rest, although Portugal is not at this period what she has been, she is