T11K lir.V. JAV/:'* MMiTlNKAU. :. 1 :, 



"The affluence of illustration," writes an able and 

 sympathetic reviewer of this essay, in the New York 

 Tribune, "in which Mr. Martineau delights often impairs 

 tlje distinctness of his statements by diverting the atten- 

 tion of the reader from the essential points of his discussion 

 to the beauty of his imagery, and thus disrninishes their 

 power of conviction." To the beauties here referred to 1 

 bear willing testimony; but the reviewer is strictly just in 

 his estirnale of their effect upon my critic's logic. The 

 "affluence of illustration," and the heat, and haze, and 

 haste, generated by its reaction upon Mr. Martineau's 

 o\\n mind, often produce vagueness where precision is 

 the one thing needful poetic fervor where we require 

 judicial calm; and practical unfairness where the strictest 

 justice ought to be, and I willingly believe is meant to be, 

 observed. 



In one of his nobler passages Mr. Martineau tells us 

 how the pupils of his college have been educated hither- 

 to: " They have been trained under the assumptions 

 (1) that the Universe which includes us and folds us 

 round is the life-dwelling of an Eternal Mind; (2) that 

 the world of our abode is the scene of a moral govern- 

 ment, incipient but not complete; and (3) that the 

 upper zones of human affection, above the clouds of self 

 and passion, take us into the sphere of a Divine Commun- 

 ion. Into this over-arching scene it is that growing 

 thought and enthusiasm have expanded to catch their light 

 and fire." 



Alpine summits seem to kindle above ns as we read 

 these glowing words; we see their beauty and feel their 

 life. At the close of one of the essays here printed,* I 

 thus refer to the "Communion" which Mr. Martineau 

 calls "Divine:" "'Two things/ said Immanuel Kant, 

 Mill me with awe the starry heavens, and the sense of 

 moral responsibility in man.' And in his hours of health 

 and strength and sanity, when the stroke of action has 

 ceased, and the pause of reflection has set in, the scientific 

 i^ator finds himself overshadowed by the same tfwe, 

 Breaking contact with the hampering details of earth. 

 it associates him with a power which gives fullness and tone 

 to his existence, but which he can neither analyze nor 



* "S.-i. -untie I'M- ,,f th,. Inm-iMntion." 



