and again failed. Once more he tried at a other on the siege of Newark in 1643, and later date, and once more he was disap- a third ("The King enjoys his rights pointed. Ultimately Professor Child, an again") which apparently also belongs to American gentleman, added an offer of £50 the latter year. At any rate, the collecto Mr. Furnivall's of £100, through Mr. tion must have been made at a very difThurston Holland, a friend both of the ferent date from that of some of the poems, Professor and the owners of the folio; and a degree of modernization may pos"and this last attempt succeeded." Mr. sibly have crept in. The dialect, moreFurnivall and his friends "obtained the over, seems to indicate a Lancashire origin right to hold the MS. for six months, on the part of the copyist, for the provinand make and print one copy of it. This cialisms of that portion of England are fresix months the owners kindly extended quently used, and this may have been in from time to time to thirteen, to enable all some cases a source of corruption. Percy the proofs and revises to be read with the thought that the MS. was made by Thomas MS. before it was returned to them." It Blount, author of some law books, "A appears that the original is to be sold to Journey to Jerusalem," and other works, the British Museum, where it will doubtless who was a native of Worcestershire, and be conned in many succeeding ages by the a barrister of the Middle Temple; but Mr. curious in early English. Considering the Furnivall thinks a man of Blount's training great size of the work, the difficulties of would hardly have executed such a work in the old and damaged manuscript, and the the style in which it comes to us. The many obstacles presented by the antique MS. is described by our authority as "a spelling and punctuation (which have here scrubby, shabby, paper' book-about been strictly followed, with very slight ex- fifteen and a half inches long by five and a ceptions), it is surprising that the whole of half wide, and about two inches thick the poems should have been copied, anno- which has lost some of its pages, both at tated, prefaced, and printed, in so short a the beginning and end," and has been furspace as thirteen months. The editors and ther injured by the binder to whom Percy assistants have certainly a right to congrat- sent it, who, in "ploughing" the edges, ulate themselves on the completion of their has docked some of the top and bottom task, which must have been one of very lines in various parts of the volume. The great labour, and which they have dis- original editor found it "lying dirty on the charged with signal ability, learning, and floor under a bureau in the parlour" of his industry. The expenses of such a produc- friend Humphrey Pitt, of Shiffnall in Shroption have been serious, and indeed it ap- shire, in whose house it was used by the pears that the debt on the book is more maids to light the fire. It was made over than £800. We trust that the projectors to Percy, who kept it in a ragged and torn will not be allowed to suffer; in any case, condition until he desired to lend it to the literary public will owe them a debt of Johnson. At that time Percy was vicar of gratitude for placing within general reach Easton Maudit, Northamptonshire, and in a work which throws so much light on the the summer of 1764 Johnson paid him a rise of English poetry. In considering it, visit at the vicarage, where the publication however, with reference to the development of the "Reliques was probably debated. of our literature, some caution must always It was Shenstone, however, who first sugbe observed. The MS. is less ancient gested the printing of a selection from the 'than several of the pieces it contains, and folio, and he was to have assisted in the it is probable enough that the transcriber editing, but first illness and then death preoccasionally made alterations in the phrase- vented him. As it was, Percy had the ology of the ballads, as Percy himself did advice and co-operation of most of the emafterwards (though doubtless not to the inent poets and scholars of the day, from same extent), to suit his own tastes. It some of whom he received additional balwas not a critical or antiquarian age in lads, which in the published volumes supply which the old folio was compiled, and the the place of several contained in the MS., penman doubtless had no literary object in but which the reverend editor did not view, but simply sought his own gratifica- choose to include in his work. The book tion. The handwriting is assigned by Sir appeared in 1765, after a preparation exF. Madden to a date subsequent to 1650, tending over four or five years, and it is though two authorities at the Record Office curious to find that for the first edition whom Mr. Furnivall consulted think it be- Percy received only one hundred guineas, longs to the reign of James I. This, how-though for subsequent issues the sums were ever, cannot be, as the later pieces contain increased. The collection was sneered at one on the taking of Banbury in 1642, an- by Warburton and Hurd, and but coldly 66 received by Johnson, whose tastes were forms the basis of the popular child's story not at all in the direction of uncouth old we have all read in our youthful days. ballad poetry. Nevertheless, the work was "The extent to which Percy used his folio very successful, and it had unquestionably MS. in his 'Reliques,' says Mr. Furnivall. a great influence-not immediately felt, has been concealed by his misstatement, but working its way slowly and surely into that of the pieces he published, the greatthe literary mind of the country-in in- er part of them are extracted from an anducing a return to a more fresh, natural, cient folio manuscript in the editor's posand spontaneous mode of poetical expres- session, which contains near two hundred sion, a more varied and lyrical versification, poems, songs, and metrical romances.' and a greater faith in the truth of nature, The Reliques (1st ed.) contains 176 than had for a long while prevailed. It pieces, and of these the folio is used only also attracted attention to the editor, led in 45; so that for Percy's greater part we the way to promotion, and finally inducted should read about one-fourth' and, if his him into the Bishopric of Dromore, in Ire- term 'extracted' is to be taken strictly, land, where he died in 1811, at the ripe age not one-sixth.'" The spurious matter was of eighty-two. In the Life of Bishop in fact much greater than could have been Percy," furnished to the present work by gathered from the editor's admissions, and the Rev. J. Pickford, M.Á., a good deal of Ritson, detecting the modern style of much inquiry is made as to Percy's origin- of the poetry, denounced the whole work whether or not he was the son of a grocer as a fraud, with some show of reason, as at Bridgenorth, Shropshire. The Bishop Percy would never produce the original himself claimed relationship with the Dukes MS., though with a bitterness which was of Northumberland, and the Bishop's family in itself inexcusable. Besides his additions, to this day deny the alleged humbleness of Percy indulged largely in suppression, and his parentage; but it would seem from the present editors have laid us under convarious records that his father really carried siderable obligations by printing several on the business alluded to. Why not? very curious poems which Percy, for some The Bishop was a scholar, a good clergy-reason which is not apparent, chose to man, and an amiable person, and it matters suppress. In reviewing what has been done nothing what was the occupation of his in the work before us, Mr. Furnivall father; though, as he had the weakness to says:stickle somewhat about his family, it is perhaps excusable to dwell a little on the actual fact. "It is something to have helped to secure the MS. for the nation, something that ballads like The most serious opposition to the "Rel- The Child of Elle, Sir Cawline,' Sir Aniques" proceeded from Ritson. That able drew Bartton' (iii. 403), Old Robin of Portingale' (i. 235), can be read without Percy's but vicious-tempered antiquary opened a tremendous fire on the new work, attacked and Randle Erle of Chestre' get fresh clearness tawdry touches, something that Robin Hood it and the editor in terms of the coarsest to our view, that a new Sir Lionell (i. 74) lives abuse, and accused the latter of lying, hy- for us, and Balowe' (iii. 518) is restored to its pocrisy, corruption, and forgery. The English home. It is more that we have now for style of Ritson's remarks was of course the first time Eger & Grime' in its earlier utterly incapable of justification; but it is state, Sir Lambewell' (i. 142) besides, the not to be denied that Percy laid himself Cavilere's' praise of his hawking (iii. 369), open to suspicion, and his work to detrac- the complete version of 'Scottish Feilde' (i. tion, by the liberties he took with his origi- 199), and Kinge Arthur's Death' (i. 487), the nals, and the absence-especially in the fullest of Flodden Feilde' (i. 813), and the first edition of a sufficient intimation verse Merline' (i. 417), the Earle of Westthat the text of the ballads had been largely morlande' (i. 292), Bosworth Feilde' (iii. altered. The editor did indeed say that 233), the curious poem of John de Reeve' (ii. emendations had been introduced, and gaps Liffe' (iii. 56), with its gracious picture of Lady 550), and the fine alliterative one of Death and supplied; but he did not lead any one to dame Life, awakening life and love in grass and suppose that some of the ballads were al-tree, in bird and man, as she speeds to her conmost entirely re-written. The thirty-nine quest over Death." lines of the original "Child of Elle" were extended to two hundred; large additions That Percy did not more completely inwere made to "Sir Cawline, and "Sir Al- dicate the degree of alteration which he indingar;" and Valentine and Ursine" is troduced into the old ballads is to be restated by Mr. Furnivall to have been en-gretted; but the alterations themselves can tirely the Bishop's own, and founded on the hardly be blamed, since it is quite certain old prose romance of the same name, which that without them the public - even the LIVING AGE. · literary public of those days - would never have been induced to take any interest in the collection, and thus the particular good which it effected would have been lost. We have only to glance at the uncouth, perplexingly antique, and often fragmentary poems, as printed in the present volumes, to be sure that such a work could never have had any wide influence over the tastes of a people. The reproduction is most interesting on antiquarian grounds, and we are extremely glad to have it; but a hundred years ago it would have fallen stillborn from the press. We wish Mr. Furnivall and his colleagues had not considered it their duty to gird so often and so sharply at the Bishop, as, whatever his literary faults and shortcomings, we are all under a great debt of gratitude to him for the publication of the "Reliques." We are pleased to find that the printing of the folio MS. is to be followed by the issue of other collections of a similar kind, for the editing of which a "Ballad Society' is about to be established. In the prospectus of this society we read: "The known collections of printed ballads are the Pepys at Magdalene College, Cambridge; the Roxburghe, the Bagford, and the King'sLibrary Political Ballads, in the British Museum; the Ashmole, Douce, and Rawlinson at Oxford; Mr. Euing's at Glasgow (from Bishop Heber's Library); and small ones in the Antiquaries' Society, &c. Manuscript ballads are also at Oxford and elsewhere. The Ballad Society proposes to print the whole of these collections, so far as it can, with copies of the original wood-cuts to such of the ballads as have them, and Introductions when needed. "Were the Pepys collection a public one, it would be the first chosen for issue by the society; but the Fellows of Magdalene have for some time had the intention of some day printing the collection themselves. -are indeed now indexing it- and they may carry out their intention independently of the Ballad Society. A proposal with the society, or no longer to delay the publihas been made to them either to act in union cation of their ballads, which men of letters have desired any time these hundred years without getting them,—either by themselves or by the society. It is hoped that the result of this proposal will be the speedy appearance of the Pepys collection. 66 Pending the settlement of this question, a hand-list of all the other printed collections accessible to the public will be made, and issued to subscribers to the Ballad Society, to show what work lies before it and them. Unless any of the provincial sets prove more valuable than they have appeared on a hasty glance to be, the BritBagford-will be taken in hand, and produced ish Museum collections-the Roxburghe and low. Dr. Rimbault and Mr. William Chappell, as quickly as funds and editors' leisure will alwhose long study of ballads and ballad literature is so well known, and whose knowledge has been so often tried and proved to be sound, have already kindly undertaken to act as editors of the ballads, and the Rev. Alexander Dyce has promised general help. Other aid will be forthcomwill be produced when Mr. Furnivall, or who ing when called for, and the manuscript ballads ever their editor may be, has had time to collect them." In the parts now before us of the work we have been considering, we observe two interesting essays: one on the term “Bondman," and the class it represented in old times, by Mr. Furnivall; the other, by the Rev. W. W. Skeat, on "Alliterative Poetry." We can only refer to these by name; but they will be found to add to the value of the book. RELIGIOUS DOUBT.- I have not been able to suppress my delight at a discovery, which I scarcely anticipated, that a biography, which faithfully exhibits the different directions in which Bunsen's mind traveled, should bring out as faithfully the secret of its unity, or should so confirm and illustrate the evidence coming from his latest work. I speak of delight - but it is a delight mixed with awe. For I feel, as I said at the beginning of this article, that the movements of our time, which might seem to make his life obsolete, have brought the question which was working in his heart from his earliest years, and which came fully before him in his latest, more and more directly upon us, that every form of philosophy, and every negation of philosophy; every form of religion, and negation of religion; every physical inquiry, every inquiry into the life of nations, of races of mankind, is compelling us to face it. None are doing more by their positive facts, by their worship of humanity, to force it upon us than those who say that theology died ages ago, and needs only a burial. That burial may be the step to a resurrection such as none of us dream of. But, in the mean time, we clergymen plunge into all petty controversies, spend our passions and our energies in them, and have only hard words for a layman who said to us on earth, who says to us from the tomb, A God, or no God: that is the question.' F. D. Maurice, in Macmillan. CHAPTER VII. her bright eyes brightened, she attended more carefully to matters of dress and appearance, she looked younger and happier. ering together. Gradual as the change was, Maurice could not help being struck by it; but though by no means stupid in such matters, and certainly not without his share of the vanity common to all men where women are concerned, he never connected himself in any way with it. It was not a hard task to overcome the few difficulties that stood in the way of car-It was in her the artist and the woman flowrying out Maurice's scheme. And now came to Antonia the dawn of a new life and the fulfilment of her old one. The fulfilment of the old, because she had at last found scope for the full exercise of her talents, and was fairly on the road to finding scope for her genius also; the dawning of a new life, because- was it not only to be expected that her warm and sympathetic nature should seek to find fulfilment too? abled to form among men, and his deeper needs of the heart by what so few men ever find-and the highest and best of men the least often of all-the full sympathy and devotion of a woman who could keep pace with him in all his advances, console and encourage him, praise and appreciate, learn and teach to whom he could open all his heart, and who gave him all hers in return. And her happiness was complete also. Her love had grown so gradually, and had become so much a part of her nature, that she never thought about it. It was like the air she breathed; and she was never disturbed by the most passing doubt. How should a woman like her bestow all her soul in vain? It could not be so in the very nature of things. The life lived by both was now happy in the extreme. Maurice had already tasted the delightful foretaste of fame, and nothing And so it happened, as indeed was inev- had occurred to deaden its effect. He was itable. When perfect sympathy exists be- no longer hampered by poverty, he was tween a woman and one who possesses already distinguished in that art which he mental qualities which she has not, and now loved entirely and for its own sake, his which she therefore, after the manner of wo-society was courted, his intellectual nature men, exaggerates, and when this sympathy gratified by the friendships that he was enis combined with the undoubted belief that her own feelings, whatever they may be, are appreciated and returned, there can be but one result. In Antonia's case, a passionate nature, intensifying every thought and every emotion, carried her along the pleasant and natural, but dangerous, road without allowing her to stop and examine her own heart; while her unconsciousness of self and want of feminine vanity made her place Maurice upon a higher level in comparison with herself than perhaps he deserved. He was, no doubt, really above her in some things in delicacy of perception, for instance, which with him was the result of refinement and cultivation, and was founded on comparison and judgment, while with her it depended almost entirely upon an instinct which was very apt to make mistakes. Again, he had a quality in which she was almost entirely deficient that which leads the possessor of it to look upon human nature and the outside world with a constant view to artistic relation, and which sharpens, subtilises, and fills with life the brain, while it renders the heart cool and equable in its pulsations. He was, in a word, essentially the artist of talent and culture, and so far was the superior; but then she had genius, which, when once it has received the seed of culture, does not cease to produce tares, it is true, but of every good grain sown therein brings forth a thousandfold. This exuberant nature of hers, hitherto narrowed and confined, rapidly expanded under the influences of love and art. Her personal appearance even shared in the change; and, without becoming beautiful, she began imperceptibly to acquire the charm of manner which is the privilege of those only whose souls are large and fair. Her figure gained a kind of stately elasticity, Meanwhile her progress in study was rapid and brilliant. It can scarcely be said, however, that she astonished the skilful musician under whose instruction she placed herself; he accepted her at once for what she was, and she had to pass through no preliminary course of "so!"s and "hm!" s. It was not long before her teacher procured her an engagement at the Court Church, and she had every prospect of coming to terms with the Director of the theatre at Dresden, where it was thought best for her to overcome the difficulties of a first appearance. The friendship between herself and the painter was equally beneficial to both, in so far as related to artistic development. Each supplied a want in the other. She supplied his deficiency in enthusiasm, while he rectified the somewhat uneven balance of her nature, in which enthusiasm was carried to so high a pitch. The relation between them was thus of a peculiar and unusual nature. No word of love had as yet arisen between them to disturb them or break their perfect confidence. The love that was felt by Antonia was too strong and too real, and had enveloped her too conpletely, to make her afraid, and he- -was he not the lover of Grace Owen? Maurice now lived in good lodgings in the Schlosz-Gasse, but he removed to them from his old attic much against the grain. The daily presence of Antonia had become almost a necessary part of his life and of his work; and, though he affected to rejoice at having regained his peace of ear, the absence of the voice, of whose industry he had so often complained, was missed by him more than he himself imagined. So weeks and months passed on, during which the two lived a kind of ideal life without ever pausing to think of the real nature of their feelings towards each other, The days resembled each other so closely, and were so calm and pleasant, that it never occurred to either that their present way of life could ever end. But the inevitable end must come at last-and it came. Oh, as usual-that is to say, getting on slowly enough. I will take you to see it in a day or two-only I am always afraid of you.' "Why?" Because you are always comparing me against Murillo, and Raphael, and Titian,which is grossly unfair." One spring evening, nearly a year since Edward Maurice had achieved his first sudden and unexpected success, he found himself alone with Antonia at her lodging. Her uncle had a temporary engagement at Leipzig, and her aunt had accompanied him. She herself was singing at the piano when Maurice entered, so that, her back being towards the door, she did not see him. When she had finished he made an exclama-ness. tion of applause. She turned round. "That is not fair," she said, "to listen when I am singing to myself." "I am very glad that I did so, though. I have found out an important secret about you by it." "What is that?" 66 That you sing better to yourself alone than to an audience. That is common among amateurs, but not among artists." "Is that a compliment, or not?" "It doesn't sound like one, I admit. What I mean is, that the singer who takes equal care when alone, and finds her own heart the most sympathetic audience, must love art in the very highest way, and not at all for the thalers and groschen." Antonia laughed. "But I do love it for the thalers and groschen," she answered. "Less than you think, I fancy," replied Maurice. "But vive l'argent, nevertheless. I certainly shall not quarrel with you." "But I mean to quarrel with you. I would really rather that you would not listen when I don't know it." Antonia spoke seriously, and as though she meant what she said. "Should you like me to judge your picture against the Tinker of Mieris, then?" "God forbid! That would be outside me altogether-the spirit of the Dutchman would stand aghast in his grave at my vague So don't be absurd, but play me something. I won't ask you to sing any more that would be unfair in my turn." "I thought you were going to the theatre to-night." So I was, but felt tired and lazy. I don't think I shall go there much again before a certain occasion." "Thank you. So my music will suit you when you are tired and lazy." "At all events it will suit me now." 66 Perhaps I am tired and lazy too." "You are never lazy, and if you are tired, I will not be hard on you." He took a chair and sat down at the piano close to her side. She put out her hand and took up at random a piece of music from the heap that lay all around her in the wildest confusion. She never kept anything in its place, and always had to trust to instinct to find what she wanted. The piece to which her hand was guided was a rather light sonata of Mozart. She began to play from the notes, but the evening light was gradually diminishing, so that she had to trust to memory more and more. As she did not know this sonata very accurately her performance be |