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any new facts or theories, put what is already known before non-scientific readers in a clear and interesting manner, and are thus likely to be useful. Their leading idea is the keynote of everything that Charles Kingsley has written. To do our duty in this world, towards God and towards man, consistently and steadily, not hysterically, requires the cultivation of all the faculties which God has given us. The mind, in an unhealthy body, is itself unhealthy; care is therefore to be taken to exercise the body, and to keep it in health. Violation of sanitary laws is injurious to health, and acts most of all injuriously on the young; sanitary laws ought therefore to be obeyed by the free will and enlightened judgment of the people; but if they are not so obeyed, then, as far as possible, they ought to be enforced by legislation. It is not without meaning that we have been told that the sins of the fathers shall be visited on the children ; offences against the laws of nature are offences against the laws of God; and the penalty will fall, if not on us, then on those that come after us. From the · Saint's Tragedy,' Yeast,' or ' Alton Locke,' to Health and · Education, through a period of nearly thirty years, the same fundamental idea pervades everything that he wrote; his sermons as much as any other of his works. From his point of view, the duty of a Christian, and, above all, of a Christian priest-of a man to whom are superadded his Christianity and his priesthood—was so thoroughly practical and so persistently inculcated, that men of a more thcological or polemical type of mind were apt to consider his preaching as savouring too much of the things of this world. Nevertheless, in the more important theological controversies that arose, and concerning which he felt called on to state his opinion, he certainly did not shrink from doing so; and, notwithstanding the stress which he laid on the teaching of natural theology, he has left undoubted proof that, liad he lived, he would have been amongst the first to register his protest—though as beyond his line of study, it would have been merely a protest-against such a work as
Supernatural Religion,' in much the same way as he actually did protest against Essays and Reviews,' the publication of which he deeply deplored, or against Bishop Colenso’s book on the Pentateuch, which he publicly denounced, in no measured language, as dangerous to the hundreds of thousands, who, being no scholars, must take on trust the historic truth of the Bible;' or again, aspandering to the cynicism and frivolity of many who were already too cynical and frivolous.'
When Kingsley finally resigned the Professorship of Modern History at Cambridge, he was just fifty years old; but his health was very indifferent, and the anxieties and worries of the preceding ten years had told heavily on him. Even before that time, Mrs. Kingsley says, 'he seldom returned from speech or lecture without showing that so much life had actually gone out of him :'the strain on brain and heart—and his speeches came almost more from the heart than from the brain-was very great; and now, at the age of fifty, he was an old man. His keen sense of enjoyment, even of the enjoyment of that nature in which he had all his life so revelled, seems to have left him, or to have remained with a certain idea of obligation attached to it. This may appear perhaps a paradoxical remark, coming, as it does, before his voyage to the West Indies, and the publication of his journal, with the self-explaining title of 'At Last;' but the work itself, almost more than his letters, suggests it. A sense of weariness, quite foreign to Kingsley's character, runs, like an undercurrent, through the volume. The descriptions are, as always, gorgeous and splendid ; perhaps too much so: there is certainly too much of them. As detached papers in Good Words' their effect was good; but, from an artistic point of view, in their collected form, the reader gets surfeited with rapture: the descriptive passages in Westward Ho!' though dictated not by eyeknowledge, but by a vivid imagination corrected by close study, are more interesting and in better taste.
And his letters home, during this time, convey the very sad impression of a man weighed down and worn out; so different in this from those of earlier years, then full of buoyancy and hope: then, even in illness, he wrote of life and happiness and nature's charms; now, from the West Indies, he writes, -as I
ride, I jog myself, and say, You stupid fellow, wake up. Do 'you see that? and that?
Do you know where you are? and my other self answers, Don't bother. I have seen so much, I 'can't take in any more, and don't care about it all.'
His absence from Eversley did not, however, extend beyond about three months; and on his return, in February 1870, he settled steadily down to his parish work until, in the May following, he went into official residence at Chester, where he had been appointed by Mr. Gladstone to a canonry in the previous August. Out of this residence, and the class in physical science which he started for the young men of the town, grew the Chester Natural History Society, which now numbers from 500 to 600 members. To this society, into which the original class speedily developed, the lectures, afterwards published as • Town Ġeology, were first given; lectures which, in a remarkably clear, popular, and interesting
manner, put forward the truths of geological science. Considered as what it is, a series of first lessons in geology to men of comparatively limited education, the book is one of very great merit; and whilst within a small compass it gives a good deal of sound teaching, it does much more: it marks emphatically the distinction which Kingsley himself so often insisted on: it is a book of education, rather than of instruction; its tendency and meaning throughout is to induce those who read it to go a-field, and work the matter out for themselves; to recognise the presence of God in every one of His creations ; and to worship, not by mere form of words, but by understanding and by knowledge.
This feeling which with him was life itself, he has specially emphasized in Town Geology :'
'I deny,' he has said, the epithet of secular to anything which God has made, even to the tiniest of insects, the most insignificant atom of dust. The grain of dust is a thought of God; God's power made it; God's wisdom gave it whatsoever properties or qualities it may possess; God's providence has put it in the place where it is now, and has ordained that it should be in that place at that moment, by a train of causes and effects which reaches back to the very creation of the universe.'
He was thus led at times to do things which, in other men, would be called eccentric: they were not so in him: the stooping to pick up a wounded butterfly, which lay in his way one Sunday morning as he passed from the altar to the pulpit, was to him as much a religious act as the preaching the sermon which followed. How thoroughly this feeling and opinion pervaded his every thought, and influenced his every action, may be traced throughout all that he has written; and nowhere more clearly than in the last volume which was published during his life, the · Westminster Sermons. The Preface to this is, in the main, a reprint of a lecture on Natural Theology, delivered at Sion's College in 1871; it is perhaps the most exact and forcible statement of his opinion that the world is God's world, not the devil's; and that the ideal of a devotional hymn is not one with such a key-note as, 'Change and decay in all around I see;' but rather, 'O all ye works of the Lord, bless Him, praise Him, and magnify Him for ever.'
During the summer of 1870 he withdrew from a connexion he had formed with the extreme agitators in favour of socalled · Woman's Rights. But the extent of that connexion was much exaggerated by popular report: nothing that he ever wrote, or publicly taught, is consonant with the idea of his holding their views on this subject; much is very positively
opposed to it. In one of his latest essays, “Thrift, he has most distinctly said
* I beg you to put out of your minds, at the outset, any fancy that I wish for a social revolution in the position of women : whatever defects
have been in the past education of British women, it has been most certainly a splendid moral success : it has made British women the best wives, mothers, daughters, aunts, sisters, that the world, as far as I can discover, has yet seen.'
Whatever crotchets he may once have entertained, at this time he certainly limited himself to upholding the necessity for a great improvement in the education of women. He held that, as at present conducted, the education of women too often results in gross ignorance of all that a woman, as the possible future mother of a family and head of a household, ought to know; and leads to an oriental waste of money, and waste of time; to a fondness for mere finery; to the mistaken fancy that it is the mark of a lady to sit idle, and let servants do everything for her.' He advocates, in the plainest manner, the instruction of women in all the homely details of domestic management; cooking, household-work, dress-making; and trusts he may reassure those who fear that by an improved education women will be withdrawn from their existing sphere of interest and activity; though it is not, he says, ' surprising • that they should entertain such a fear, after the extravagant 'opinions and schemes which have been lately broached in various quarters.' Nothing can be more utterly opposed to these extravagant opinions and schemes than teachings such as his. One opinion, however, Kingsley did hold very strongly; and, during his later years at least, seldom lost an opportunity of advocating it. That as women had the entire management and control of children, they ought, even more than men, to be scientifically instructed in the laws of health; and that to give this instruction there ought to be fully qualified female instructors. That of these, some might, amongst their own sex, practise as physicians, would be almost a natural sequence, and as such he doubtless accepted it; but we do not remember that he ever distinctly advocated it.
Early in 1873 he was appointed, and again by Mr. Gladstone, from Chester to a vacant stall in Westminster Abbey; and his mother, then in her eighty-sixth year, just lived to know of it: she died on April 16. His new duties called on him to preach frequently in the Abbey; and he thus became better and more widely known to the great crowds of London. There has, perhaps, never been a preacher who could in any sense be called popular, who had less of the popular manner.
His voice, more especially when raised in the occasional services in the nave, was harsh; and the effort to overcome a certain inclination to stammer, made it seem, at times, almost affected. But the earnestness which he threw into the subject before him, captivated all his hearers, and gave a dignity to his homely and familiar language, which reached to their hearts as well as to their understandings. And one abiding effect there is; that whilst popular sermons---which so often owe their popularity to the mere fluency or manner of the preacher-are commonly the most wearisome of reading, Kingsley's sermons, of which there are many volumes, are only less delightful when read than when first heard.
That his promotion to Westminster might prove but the stepping-stone to a higher post, was the natural conclusion of his friends, and was freely spoken of by them in their letters of congratulation. Kingsley himself had no such ambition. He would, no doubt, have accepted further promotion if it had come to him; he would have considered it as a call to a higher responsibility which he could not decline; but it is plain that, meantime, he honestly meant what he said, when he wrote :
“What better fate than to spend one's old age under the shadow of that Abbey, and close to the highest mental activities of England, with leisure to cultivate myself, and write, if I will, deliberately, but not for daily bread. A deanery or bishopric would never give me that power.' But however much he was inclined to content himself with the prospect of rest, he could not but be surprised, as well as flattered, by the extraordinary outburst of congratulation, not only from friends, but from strangers. Mrs. Kingsley speaks of it as sympathy, and as ó a triumph which wiped out many • bitter passages in the past.' It may have been so, to some extent; but Mrs. Kingsley, in her anxious and devoted affection, has perhaps a rather exaggerated sense of the difficulties against which her husband had to contend. Much severe and even hostile criticism he had, no doubt, had to endure; but who that emerges from the dull crowd has not a similar experience? That Kingsley's nervous and sensitive temperament had felt it very bitterly, is likely enough; but for years back there had been nothing to disturb the peace of any man at all accustomed to public life. It would seem more probable that petty worries of domestic economy, and anxious cares for the future, things impossible for his wife to write about, had even seriously affected his health; that these were the most real grounds for sympathy; that the release from all money cares was the most real cause for congratulation. VOL. CXLV. NO. CCXCVIII.