racter of the people is not wholly instinctive and natural, as I have shown; but neither is it wholly conventional and artificial; theirs is unquestionably a more naked life than any other, though it has garments of its own which are sufficiently fantastical too.

Perhaps the very first thing that makes the workman's life more natural than another's, is the continual pressure, or if not actually the pressure, at least the continual nearness of want. Undoubtedly to want is more natural than to have, and the struggle against want is the fulfilment of man's natural destiny; he who is engaged in it is abiding in the natural portion of humanity. And here is one of the points where love may begin; want, which is most natural, challenging some sympathy by nature with the heart of other men. The presence of want is an appeal to humanity,'-a phrase very commonly used; but involving in itself a meaning beyond the common: no less than a contact between two existences. This continual presence or impending approach of want, has, moreover, one effect upon the character of the people, which, by the merciful providence of God, becomes to them a blessing: it produces among them a spirit of kindliness and benevolence so deeply seated and widely spread that it can be fully appreciated only by those who have looked pretty closely into the matter. Not, of course, that the heart of the poor man is free from much of the covetousness and selfishness, which, being evil things, too readily find admittance into every human heart; but that from his condition and circumstances he is enabled to realise the gospel sense of the word 'neighbour,' beyond comparison more readily and truly than can any other. Is proof wanted? Let us go out again into that street, where but lately we found so much to shock the eye and the ear alike: in that same street we may witness sights of a very different nature. I chose a listless summer evening on the former occasion; let it be winter this time, the sleet falling and the street wet and wretched. It is a Saturday night, and spite of the damp and cold, the street is filled with a busy crowd; butchers' and greengrocers' shops show temptingly by the lustre of flaring gas-lights, and busy housewives hurry to and fro. Half way down the street, a little off the kerb-stone, stands a bare-headed man, or it may be a man and his wife, shivering in the cold, with shivering little ones clinging to the skirts of his tattered coat; he says nothing, but stands there and shivers on in silent eloquence; in his hand he holds his greasy hat, or, perhaps, has set it down before him on the flags-that greasy hat, I would speak it with the deepest reverence, becomes a treasury of the temple,' into which is cast many a coin, which we may not doubt is blessed as was the widow's mite. It might seem strange that the beggar should take his stand, on such a night, in such

a thoroughfare, where none will pass that are much farther removed from beggary, I had almost said, than himself; but he has calculated deeply, and done wisely: for the poor man has not read parliamentary reports on mendicancy to frighten him from the venture of a halfpenny given in charity; he sees before him one very like to himself; he has felt or knows he may feel tomorrow, the full bitterness of poverty, hunger, and cold; he gives, therefore, confidingly, munificently, (for his means,) and if he does not yet fully understand, who shall say he is not in the way to learn the truest meaning of the precious words, It is more blessed to give than to receive'? Such scenes as these are very touching-we can love the people at such times.

Follow the man of the people, or say rather his wife, to her home, if she chance to have a sick neighbour next door; or watch her as she tends the sick child of a neighbour, who is forced from home to seek for work-the people will be gaining firm hold of your heart by this time.

But an instance has struck me, which is really so beautiful, so touching, that I cannot refrain from citing it, or from hoping that the reader will not deem the anecdote impertinent, though it be borrowed from my own personal experience. It was last Christmas; there was a dole of beef to be distributed amongst the poorest families in a poor district of one of our largest manufacturing towns. I was well acquainted with the curate of the district, and had occasionally visited with him some of his people. This time, I undertook to inquire whether a certain family (I am sore tempted to give their name) had partaken of the benefaction. The father was a waterman by trade, and assisted in unloading barges at a wharf-his employment was very precarious; besides himself and his wife, there were two sons, full-grown young men, the eldest of whom was out of employ for the time, the younger, whose earnings of seven shillings a week was the only sure incoming for the family, was suffering from rheumatism, and they were apprehensive of his losing his work also in consequence; besides him, there were other children, I do not now remember how many. In conversing with the mother, my looks happened to rest upon a little fairhaired child of six or seven years old, that was sitting by her, when observing it, she said, "It is none of ours, sir! and yet it is ours in a way, I may say, poor little thing! It has neither father nor mother, they are both dead; but its father was my man's friend, and he stood godfather to the little lass; so when there was none to take care of her, we fetched her here, and she's been ours, as we may say, sir, ever sin'. I know not what others may think, it seemed to me that there was something sublime in this: the presence of that little godchild seemed to be a pledge of Divine blessing on the humble roof that sheltered

it. Would it be going too far to say, that one such trait as this can do much towards knitting one's heart to the people? Indeed, indeed, there are many loveable, as there are many unloveable, points in the character of the people-points which will continually be developing before our view, if we study that character with patient and ready affection; he that denies it, either knows not the people, or is their calumniator. I spoke, it may be, harshly at the first, because I wished to scare away profitless, fruitless dilettantism. I am bound, therefore, to make some amends before passing on. I am emboldened to speak again of that, which I have learned from personal observation. The craving of the popular mind for knowledge deserves our hearty sympathy; it is misdirected at times, but oftentimes, too, it takes a right direction; when THE TEACHER of all men was upon earth, it is written that the common people heard him gladly ;'* and still is it found that they have an ear to hear and a heart to desire the truth. I have had myself a class of factory boys, who in the winter months, when the work began before, and was prolonged until after daylight, would yet come freely, of their own accord and gladly, to avail themselves of a spare night-hour devoted by me to reading with them the books of Moses.

Yes! I was right in saying it, we shall learn to love the people among themselves: but right, too, in asserting that our proficiency in this love will depend upon the spirit in which we learn. We shall learn to love them among themselves; but more than this, we must study them not only thus among themselves, but also in our ownselves-гvobi σeavтov, though a bard one, is a true rule in philosophy; the analysis of ourselves, though it does not teach us all, teaches much about others, and the saying is not without its value :- Homo sum, et nihil humanum a me alienum esse puto' There are few truths of which we might more readily gather confirmation in the social and political events of later days than of this: that it is false and dangerous to deal with men irrespectively of their humanity. It seems, indeed, like uttering a common-place and a truism to say it; But you may be sure, that if you do not find yourself recurring again and again to the most ordinary maxims, you do not draw your observations from real life. Oh, if we could but begin by believing and acting upon some of the veriest common-places! But it is with pain and grief that we come to understand our first copy-book sentences.' +

Now as to the needful study of this humanity, this wondrous being, we have authority far higher than that of the most profound philosopher, to tell us where to direct it: for what man knoweth the things of a man, save the spirit of man, which is in him?'+ In proportion to our acquaintance with the spirit of + Claims of Labour, p. 166.

*St. Mark xii. 37.

1 Cor. ii. 11.

6

man' which is in ourselves, will be our discernment of the things of a man' in others, with which, unless we are in some degree gifted, it will be best for us to leave others entirely to themselves. It is but too common to hear persons talking of the lower classes,' of the poor, of servants, and so forth, in such a manner as to work in the thoughtful hearer a painful conviction that they are utterly ignorant of all this, mere triflers, who, far from reading diligently the book of their own souls, cannot be said to know the alphabet of its words, passions, and affections. I am sure most persons who have reflected upon these subjects will not require me to enter any further into the description of such babblers, and will acknowledge that their pretending emptiness has oftentimes made the fanaticism of democracy appear by its side, deep, real, and attractive; these talkers are mischievous beyond calculation, even when sometimes they really mean things all for the best. In studying the character of the people, it is needful to study from without, with diligence, care, and accuracy; but there must he withal an inner study, a severe but yet indulgent study of their humanity conned over in the recesses of the student's own being. Such a study will not only show the points of resemblance, but will in many cases clear up and explain the differences that exist between us. It is a benefit, to be indirectly derived from writers like Michelet, that our attention is directed by them to points of this kind-yes! though they question truths, even so they remind us of truths, which we are too apt to overlook or to forget-truths lying beyond the ken of him, who would study the relations of man to man on the mere principles of political economy. If a political economist were to write a book upon the people, I think we should be astonished to find in it an allusion to, much more chapters devoted to, the discussion of the doctrine of original sin; but though Michelet has the hardihood to question, and the blindness to attempt to deny it, still there it is, occupying a prominent place, and the chapter which discusses it is thus spoken of in the author's own note: This chapter, which inattentive minds will think foreign to the subject, is its very basis.' †

So, then, we must study the character of the people in studying our ownselves, and must have a subjective together with an objective knowledge, for both together form a perfect, and either without the other is but a partial and imperfect knowledge. It

I say attempt to deny it, because although he plainly does so in the chapter alluded to, he is betrayed by the very force of truth into contradictions at times; compare, for instance, with his assertions, the following passage from the eighth chapter of the second part- Many a one, now vulgar, had also received in the bud this fruitful duality of two persons, the simple man and the critic; but his natural malignity early destroyed the harmony; at his first step in science came pride and subtlety-the critic destroyed the simple man.'

+ See note on chapter v. part 2, p. 97.

was by himself that Job judged his bondman: Did not he that made me in the womb make him? and did not one fashion us in the womb?'* But more than this, and more closely bearing upon my whole argument is this, that in ourselves are we to see the measure of our love to others: for thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.'

This is the meaning of the elsewhere,' which occurred in my three first questions; but this elsewhere' comprises more and greater things yet. A passage from the Claims of Labour' + may serve to usher in the remarks I shall make upon this latter and most solemn portion of my subject:

Against the many temptations that beset a man in such a career, (a career of usefulness and benevolence,) I do not believe that any good feeling, which stands upon no other than mere human relations, will be found a sufficient support. No sentiment of benevolence will do; nor even, at all times, a warm and earnest philanthropy: there must be the inexorable sense of duty arising from a man's apprehension, if but in a feeble degree, of his relation towards God, as well as to his fellowman.'

This is a topic on which it becomes us all to think and speak with caution and reverence; but I cannot deem that feeling to be caution, which passes by this part of a discourse, nor that to be reverence which utterly shuts our lips when the time is come to speak it. The relation of man to man, and his relation to his Almighty Maker, are bound up and knit together after so wondrous a fashion, that the attempt to separate them is as foolish as it is wicked. It were much to be desired that we should bear this ever in our minds, and give token by our actions, that this truth is a vital germinating power in our hearts. This were a true development of Christianity, the continual and varied development of the idea into the act: the idea unmoveable and unchangeable because divine, the action moveable and variable fitted to the circumstance which is but human. What is it, I would ask, that gives its greatest element of success to the miserable gnosticism of a Michelet, a Quinet, or the like,-to their specious and hollow system of Pantheism? Is it not this, that among those who profess to worship God and believe in his Christ, there is so much real forgetfulness of the true christian religion, that they who look on are cheated into believing, that there is more of its spirit to be found in the philosophy of its misbelieving would-be purifiers and developers, than in the practice of the neglectful, self-deceiving holders of the unchanged and unchangeable doctrine. I will quote but one terrible sentence from Michelet