Bacon's time.

However this be, it seems to me that

our nature is essentially romantic; that from childhood to old age, we are exhibiting the spirit of romance, in one form or other; but the highest truth exhibiting the highest poetry and the noblest romance. We are all heroes and worshippers of heroes. Every period of life has its poetry, its hopes and fears, its castle buildings in the air,-its ideal and its idols. We are all lovers and poets. The world too is full of insane doctrines and customs, fashioned in our ignorance; and each thinks he can see the insanity of his neighbour, but does not see his own. Men strive beyond the power and very nature of the understanding, and repose upon the incongruities of a disturbed dream: but "the subtilty of Nature is far beyond that of the sense, or of the understanding." Even the finer sense of the clairvoyant cannot reach beyond phenomena; and if he could perceive the whole process of his prophecies, it would not dip one line's breadth beyond this. Men are for ever running after some will-o'-the-wisp or other,―seeking after gold or power,-luxury or pure spirituality;-fame over the wide world, or that strange phantom, posthumous fame. When I was a child, and I wandered into the woods after butterflies and birds' eggs, what a romance it was! My heart beats now to think of the wonder, the ecstacy and romance of those days; and when I believed in spirits and hobgoblins,-in Jack the Giant Killer ; and afterwards in Robinson Crusoe and his man Friday, and in Don Quixote. O! what delightful

romance it all was !—the impression of those books! and then came the greatest romance of all;-the romance of the Bible and a religion. A strange tale that to relate;-how the impressions came and grew; how they influenced me, and how they passed away. And then the strange feeling,—to seem to be walking wide awake through the world while in a dream,— men pressing after one wild delusion or another, as if drawn by enchantment ;-and each opposed to each, and nation opposed to nation,-all wandering away, as in "a mighty maze without a plan." It is only when we begin to interpret these dreams by a knowledge of causes, and of the laws and conditions of Mind, that we seem to be again at ease, and in sympathy with our fellows, and perceive our true position and relations, and the necessity of all that exists in its time and in its place. When people say that there is no longer any romance in the world, it is because they love romance, and their heart is full of it. The lover, the mother, the grandmother, how romantic they all are! The speculations of trade, even the mind of the poor man who gathers watercresses, and carries them from door to door along the street, has its romance. The warrior, the sportsman, is carried away by enthusiasm into danger, and delights in adventure. Look into the libraries, and theatres, and ball-rooms, and you find romance the ruling passion. And what is religion but another feature of romance, with its wonders upon wonders, -its hopes, its terrors, its fictions! Baron Munchausen is a tame affair to it. And then to become

one of the elect, to win salvation, and an enchanted life beyond the grave;-to convert others, and win salvation for them; to be carried into the seventh heaven,-is it not the very ecstacy of romance? And to believe that it is all true; that the prophecies, the miracles, the morals, all prove it to be true; the Father, the Son, the Holy Ghost, the Virgin Mother, -what personages these are! Sweep away these ideas, and clear the ground;-how sad it seems! how blank the space where they were! It is hard for reason and for history to struggle against such romance as this; to throw off the glorious promises, and awake to common life. But every change has its immediate evil. We live, not for the past, but for the future and wake men must, however painful it be. We must speak out the truth that is within us, even though we shall grievously offend our mother or our sister, or our dearest friend: and Truth shall be to us as a mother, a sister, and a friend. A man is loved for his virtue so long as his virtue gives no offence to the prejudices, vanities, or vices of others. The reformer must disturb the opinions of many; and he is as a robber, and breaks into men's habits, and robs them of the opinions which may have been their stay, their character, their wealth, child and idol. How pitiful to observe the miser when he is losing his hoard; the proud when they fall; the lover who has just lost his mistress! It were almost better that such men had never been born. And how terrible for a man to lose his God, and all his hope of heaven! But fortunately the waking is

generally very gradual, and from stage to stage. Those who are in the delightful condition of mesmeric sleep pray you to let them sleep on, and for

ever.

There are many who their religion is but a will not disturb them. you wake him to a true sense of the value of his gold. To throw down his glittering idol would appear to him a worse evil than to take his life; for it would seem as if it would deprive him at once of all hope and joy, and leave him utterly desolate. How terrible is the account Charles Lamb gives ofhimself,* -how he had become a drunkard, and was forced to return to his liquor! I believe few men are aware of what abject slaves they are to custom and to prejudice, so that "be it the Obi or the worship of images, or any other absurdity, when it is once introduced, an artful or an enlightened statesman may prolong it for centuries." A beneficed clergyman of the Church of England is no more able to judge fairly of arguments opposed to those thirty-nine articles of faith he has sworn to maintain, than is a Mohammedan able to judge correctly of the arguments of a Christian. Men are much the same in all professions. When I speak of the clergyman or the physician, I speak not of any individual or class of men, but of human nature under particular influences. "The wisdom of the law-maker is one," says Bacon, "and of a lawyer another." Essays of Elia.

have a half knowledge that waking dream, yet beg you The miser would not have

"Confessions of a Drunkard."

Few men are wholly honest and but few again of these honest men are capable of suspending their judgment, but, when their prejudices are concerned, "have ears more deaf than adders to the voice of any true decision." Those who have

cut themselves free from all inveterate habits and the world's ties, may still have their prejudices: but they are bound only by threads instead of by cables. Their circle is widened, their liberty the greater, and their judgment free. Men cannot help themselves. How can a man suspend his judgment on the wayside, when he is already thrust into a prison, and is taught to believe this prison to be a beautiful palace? He no more desires freedom, or can conceive a better state of things, or a higher truth, than the poor women you describe in a hareem. Rattling their own chains the while, it is odd to see how men compassionate others* whom they see to be in bondage. A madman, who thinks himself made of glass, sees clearly enough the folly of one who declares himself Jesus Christ. But the folly which exists about freedom of will prevents men from acknowledging the entireness of this bondage, or from being startled at their own position. When we recognise the helplessness and dependence of men under various conditions of life, and habits of mind, we shall learn to sympathize with all, to bear with all, and deeply commiserate those who are disturbed, and awaking from a dream. If happiness be the end and aim of life, as some think, it seems to me * Appendix W.