PART XII.

SURROUNDINGS.

LETTER I.

TO A FRIEND WHO OFTEN CHANGED HIS PLACE OF RESIDENCE.

An unsettled class of English people—Effect of localities on the mind—Reaction against surroundings—Landscape-painting a consequence of it—Crushing effect of too much natural magnificence—The mind takes color from its surroundings—Selection of a place of residence—Charles Dickens—Heinrich Heine—Dr. Arnold at Rugby—His house in the lake district—Tycho Brahe—His establishment on the island of Hween—The young Humboldts in the Castle of Tegel—Alexander Humboldt’s appreciation of Paris—Dr. Johnson—Mr. Buckle—Cowper—Galileo.

I find that there is a whole class of English subjects (you belong to that class) of whom it is utterly impossible to predict where they will be living in five years. Indeed, as you are the worst of correspondents, I only learned your present address, by sheer accident, from a perfect stranger, and he told me, of course, that you had plans for going somewhere else, but where that might be he knew not. The civilized English nomad is usually, like yourself, a person of independent means, rich enough to bear the expenses of frequent removals, but without the cares of property. His money is safely invested in the funds, or in railways; and so, wherever the postman can bring his dividends, he can live in freedom from material cares. When his wife is as unsettled as himself, the pair seem to live in a balloon, or in a sort of Noah’s ark, which goes whither the wind lists, and takes ground in the most unexpected places.

Have you ever studied the effect of localities on the mind—on your own mind? That which we are is due in great part to the accident of our surroundings, which act upon us in one or two quite opposite ways. Either we feel in harmony with them, in which case they produce a positive effect upon us, or else we are out of harmony, and then they drive us into the strangest reactions. A great ugly English town, like Manchester, for instance, makes some men such thorough townsmen that they cannot live without smoky chimneys; or it fills the souls of others with such a passionate longing for beautiful scenery and rustic retirement, that they find it absolutely necessary to bury themselves from time to time in the recesses of picturesque mountains. The development of modern landscape-painting has not been due to habits of rural existence, but to the growth of very big and hideous modern cities, which made men long for shady forests, and pure streams, and magnificent spectacles of sunset, and dawn, and moonlight. It is by this time a trite observation that people who have always lived in beautiful scenery do not, and cannot, appreciate it; that too much natural magnificence positively crushes the activity of the intellect and that its best effect is simply that of refreshment for people who have not access to it every day. It happens too, in a converse way, that rustics and mountaineers have the strongest appreciation of the advantages of great cities, and thrive in them often more happily than citizens who are born in the brick streets. Those who have great facilities for changing their place of residence ought always to bear in mind that every locality is like a dyer’s vat, and that the residents take its color, or some other color, from it just as the clothes do that the dyer steeps in stain. If you look back upon your past life, you will assuredly admit that every place has colored your mental habits; and that although other tints from other places have supervened, so that it may be difficult to say precisely what remains of the place you lived in many years ago, still something does remain, like the effect of the first painting on a picture, which tells on the whole work permanently, though it may have been covered over and over again by what painters call scumblings and glazings.

The selection of a place of residence, even though we only intend to pass a few short years in it, is from the intellectual point of view a matter so important that one can hardly exaggerate its consequences. We see this quite plainly in the case of authors, whose minds are more visible to us than the minds of other men, and therefore more easily and conveniently studied. We need no biographer to inform us that Dickens was a Londoner, that Browning had lived in Italy, that Ruskin had passed many seasons in Switzerland and Venice. Suppose for one moment that these three authors had been born in Ireland, and had never quitted it, is it not certain that their production would have been different? Let us carry our supposition farther still, and conceive, if we can, the difference to their literary performance if they had been born, not in Ireland, but in Iceland, and lived there all their lives! Is it not highly probable that in this case their production would have been so starved and impoverished from insufficiency of material and of suggestion, that they would have uttered nothing but some simple expression of sentiment and imagination, some homely song or tale? All sights and sounds have their influence on our temper and on our thoughts, and our inmost being is not the same in one place as in another. We are like blank paper that takes a tint by reflection from what is nearest, and changes it as its surroundings change. In a dull gray room, how gray and dull it looks! but it will be bathed in rose or amber if the hangings are crimson or yellow. There are natures that go to the streams of life in great cities as the heart goes to the water-brooks; there are other natures that need the solitude of primæval forests and the silence of the Alps. The most popular of English novelists sometimes went to write in the tranquillity of beautiful scenery, taking his manuscript to the shore of some azure lake in Switzerland, in sight of the eternal snow; but all that beauty and peace, all that sweetness of pure air and color, were not seductive enough to overcome for many days the deep longing for the London streets. His genius needed the streets, as a bee needs the summer flowers, and languished when long separated from them. Others have needed the wild heather, or the murmur of the ocean, or the sound of autumn winds that strip great forest-trees. Who does not deeply pity poor Heine in his last sad years, when he lay fixed on his couch of pain in that narrow Parisian lodging, and compared it to the sounding grave of Merlin the enchanter, “which is situated in the wood of Brozeliande, in Brittany, under lofty oaks whose tops taper, like emerald flames, towards heaven. O brother Merlin,” he exclaims, and with what touching pathos! “O brother Merlin, I envy thee those trees, with their fresh breezes, for never a green leaf rustles about this mattress-grave of mine in Paris, where from morning till night I hear nothing but the rattle of wheels, the clatter of hammers, street-brawls, and the jingling of pianofortes!”

In the biography of Dr. Arnold, his longing for natural beauty recurs as one of the peculiarities of his constitution. He did not need very grand scenery, though he enjoyed it deeply, but some wild natural loveliness was such a necessity for him that he pined for it unhappily in its absence. Rugby could offer him scarcely anything of this, “We have no hills,” he lamented, “no plains—not a single wood, and but one single copse; no heath, no down, no rock, no river, no clear stream—scarcely any flowers, for the lias is particularly poor in them—nothing but one endless monotony of enclosed fields and hedgerow trees. This is to me a daily privation; it robs me of what is naturally my anti-attrition; and as I grow older I begin to feel it.... The positive dulness of the country about Rugby makes it to me a mere working-place: I cannot expatiate there even in my walks.”

“The monotonous character of the midland scenery of Warwickshire,” says Dr. Arnold’s biographer, “was to him, with his strong love of natural beauty and variety, absolutely repulsive; there was something almost touching in the eagerness with which, amidst that ‘endless succession of fields and hedgerows,’ he would make the most of any features of a higher order; in the pleasure with which he would cherish the few places where the current of the Avon was perceptible, or where a glimpse of the horizon could be discerned; in the humorous despair with which he would gaze on the dull expanse of fields eastward from Rugby. It is no wonder we do not like looking that way, when one considers that there is nothing fine between us and the Ural mountains. Conceive what you look over; for you just miss Sweden, and look over Holland, the north of Germany, and the centre of Russia.”14

This dreadful midland monotony impelled Dr. Arnold to seek refreshment and compensation in a holiday home in the Lake district, and there he found all that his eyes longed for, streams, hills, woods, and wild-flowers. Nor had his belief in the value of these sweet natural surroundings been illusory; such instincts are not given for our betrayal, and the soul of a wise man knows its own needs, both before they are supplied, and after. Westmorland gave him all he had hoped from it, and more. “Body and mind,” he wrote, “alike seem to repose greedily in delicious quiet, without dulness, which we enjoy in Westmorland.” And again: “At Allan Bank, in the summer, I worked on the Roman history, and hope to do so again in the winter. It is very inspiring to write with such a view before one’s eyes as that from our drawing-room at Allan Bank, where the trees of the shrubbery gradually run up into the trees of the cliff, and the mountain-side, with its infinite variety of rocky peaks and points upon which the cattle expatiate, rises over the tops of the trees.”

Of all happily-situated mental laborers who have worked since the days of Horace, surely Tycho Brahe was the happiest and most to be envied. King Frederick of Denmark gave him a delightful island for his habitation, large enough for him not to feel imprisoned (the circumference being about five miles), yet little enough for him to feel as snugly at home there as Mr. Waterton in his high-walled park. The land was fertile and rich in game, so that the scientific Robinson Crusoe lived in material abundance; and as he was only about seven miles from Copenhagen, he could procure everything necessary to his convenience. He built a great house on the elevated land in the midst of the isle, about three-quarters of a mile from the sea, a palace of art and science, with statues and paintings and all the apparatus which the ingenuity of that age could contrive for the advancement of astronomical pursuits. Uniting the case of a rich nobleman’s existence with every aid to science, including special erections for his instruments, and a printing establishment that worked under his own immediate direction, he lived far enough from the capital to enjoy the most perfect tranquillity, yet near enough to escape the consequences of too absolute isolation. Aided in all he undertook by a staff of assistants that he himself had trained, supported in his labor by the encouragement of his sovereign, and especially by his own unflagging interest in scientific investigation, he led in that peaceful island the ideal intellectual life. Of that mansion where he labored, of the observatory where he watched the celestial phenomena, surrounded but not disturbed by the waves of a shallow sea, there remains at this day literally not one stone upon another; but many a less fortunate laborer in the same field, harassed by poverty, distracted by noise and interruption, has remembered with pardonable envy the splendid peace of Uranienborg.

It was one of the many fortunate circumstances in the position of the two Humboldts that they passed their youth in the quiet old castle of Tegel, separated from Berlin by a pine-wood, and surrounded by walks and gardens. They too, like Tycho Brahe, enjoyed that happy combination of tranquillity with the neighborhood of a capital city which is so peculiarly favorable to culture. In later life, when Alexander Humboldt had collected those immense masses of material which were the result of his travels in South America, he warmly appreciated the unequalled advantages of Paris. He knew how to extract from the solitudes of primæval nature what he wanted for the enrichment of his mind; but he knew also how to avail himself of all the assistance and opportunities which are only to be had in great capitals. He was not attracted to town-life, like Dr. Johnson and Mr. Buckle, to the exclusion of wild nature; but neither, on the other hand, had he that horror of towns which was a morbid defect in Cowper, and which condemns those who suffer from it to rusticity. Even Galileo, who thought the country especially favorable to speculative intellects, and the walls of cities an imprisonment for them, declared that the best years of his life were those he had spent in Padua.

LETTER II.

TO A FRIEND WHO MAINTAINED THAT SURROUNDINGS WERE A MATTER OF INDIFFERENCE TO A THOROUGHLY OCCUPIED MIND.

Archimedes at the siege of Syracuse—Geoffroy St. Hilaire in the besieged city of Alexandria—Goethe at the bombardment of Verdun—Lullo, the Oriental missionary—Giordano Bruno—Unacknowledged effect of surroundings—Effect of Frankfort on Goethe—Great capitals—Goethe—His garden-house—What he said about Béranger and Paris—Fortunate surroundings of Titian.

There are so many well-known instances of men who have been able to continue their intellectual labors under the most unfavorable conditions, that your argument might be powerfully supported by an appeal to actual experience. There is Archimedes, of course, to begin with, who certainly seems to have abstracted himself sufficiently from the tumult of a great siege to forget it altogether when occupied with his mathematical problems. The prevalent stories of his death, though not identical, point evidently to a habit of abstraction which had been remarked as a peculiarity by those about him, and it is probable enough that a great inventor in engineering would follow his usual speculations under circumstances which, though dangerous, had lasted long enough to become habitual. Even modern warfare, which from the use of gunpowder is so much noisier than that which raged at Syracuse, does not hinder men from thinking and writing when they are used to it. Geoffrey St. Hilaire never worked more steadily and regularly in his whole life than he did in the midst of the besieged city of Alexandria. “Knowledge is so sweet,” he said long afterwards, in speaking of this experience, “that it never entered my thoughts how a bombshell might in an instant have cast into the abyss both me and my documents.” By good luck two electric fish had been caught and given to him just then, so he immediately began to make experiments, as if he had been in his own cabinet in Paris, and for three weeks he thought of nothing else, utterly forgetting the fierce warfare that filled the air with thunder and flame, and the streets with victims. He had sixty-four hypotheses to amuse him, and it was necessary to review his whole scientific acquirement with reference to each of these as he considered them one by one. It may be doubted, however, whether he was more in danger from the bombardment or from the intensity of his own mental concentration. He grew thin and haggard, slept one hour in the twenty-four, and lived in a perilous condition of nervous strain and excitement. Goethe at the bombardment of Verdun, letting his mind take its own course, found that it did not occupy itself with tragedies, or with anything suggested by what was passing in the conflict around him, but by scientific considerations about the phenomena of colors. He noticed, in a passing observation, the bad effect of war upon the mind, how it makes people destructive one day and creative the next, how it accustoms them to phases intended to excite hope in desperate circumstances, thus producing a peculiar sort of hypocrisy different from the priestly and courtly kind. This is the extent of his interest in the war; but when he finds some soldiers fishing he is attracted to the spot and profoundly occupied—not with the soldiers, but with the optical phenomena on the water. He was never very much moved by external events, nor did he take that intense interest in the politics of the day which we often find in people less studious of literature and science. Raimond Lullo, the Oriental missionary, continued to write many volumes in the midst of the most continual difficulties and dangers, preserving as much mental energy and clearness as if he had been safe and tranquil in a library. Giordano Bruno worked constantly also in the midst of political troubles and religious persecutions, and his biographer tells us that “il desiderio vivissimo della scienza aveva ben più efficacia sull’ animo del Bruno, che non gli avvenimenti esterni.”

These examples which have just occurred to me, and many others that it would be easy to collect, may be taken to prove at least so much as this, that it is possible to be absorbed in private studies when surrounded by the most disturbing influences; but even in these cases it would be a mistake to conclude that the surroundings had no effect whatever. There can be no doubt that Geoffroy St. Hilaire was intensely excited by the siege of Alexandria, though he may not have attributed his excitement to that cause. His mind was occupied with the electrical fishes, but his nervous system was wrought upon by the siege, and kept in that state of tension which at the same time enabled him to get through a gigantic piece of intellectual labor and made him incapable of rest. Had this condition been prolonged it must have terminated either in exhaustion or in madness. Men have often engaged in literature or science to escape the pressure of anxiety, which strenuous mental labor permits us, at least temporarily, to forget; but the circumstances which surround us have invariably an influence of some kind upon our thinking, though the connection may not be obvious. Even in the case of Goethe, who could study optics on a battle-field, his English biographer recognizes the effect of the Frankfort life which surrounded the great author in his childhood. “The old Frankfort city, with its busy crowds, its fairs, its mixed population, and its many sources of excitement, offered great temptations and great pasture to so desultory a genius. This is perhaps a case wherein circumstances may be seen influencing the direction of character.... A large continuity of thought and effort was perhaps radically uncongenial to such a temperament; yet one cannot help speculating whether under other circumstances he might not have achieved it. Had he been reared in a quiet little old German town, where he would have daily seen the same faces in the silent streets, and come in contact with the same characters, his culture might have been less various, but it might perhaps have been deeper. Had he been reared in the country, with only the changing seasons and the sweet serenities of nature to occupy his attention when released from study, he would certainly have been a different poet. The long summer afternoons spent in lonely rambles, the deepening twilights filled with shadowy visions, the slow uniformity of his external life necessarily throwing him more and more upon the subtler diversities of inward experience, would inevitably have influenced his genius in quite different directions, would have animated his works with a very different spirit.”

We are sometimes told that life in a great capital is essential to the development of genius, but Frankfort was the largest town Goethe ever lived in, and he never visited either Paris or London. Much of the sanity of his genius may have been due to his residence in so tranquil a place as Weimar, where he could shut himself up in his “garden-house” and lock all the gates of the bridge over the Ilm. “The solitude,” says Mr. Lewes, “is absolute, broken only by the occasional sound of the church clock, the music from the barracks, and the screaming of the peacocks spreading their superb beauty in the park.” Few men of genius have been happier in their surroundings than Goethe. He had tranquillity, and yet was not deprived of intellectual intercourse; the scenery within excursion-distance from his home was interesting and even inspiring, yet not so splendid as to be overwhelming. We know from his conversations that he was quite aware of the value of those little centres of culture to Germany, and yet in one place he speaks of Béranger in the tone which seems to imply an appreciation of the larger life of Paris. “Fancy,” he says, “this same Béranger away from Paris, and the influence and opportunities of a world-city, born as the son of a poor tailor, at Jena or Weimar; let him run his wretched career in either of the two small cities, and see what fruit would have grown on such a soil and in such an atmosphere.”

We cannot too frequently be reminded that we are nothing of ourselves, and by ourselves, and are only something by the place we hold in the intellectual chain of humanity by which electricity is conveyed to us and through us—to be increased in the transmission if we have great natural power and are favorably situated, but not otherwise. A child is born to the Vecelli family at Cadore, and when it is nine years old is taken to Venice and placed under the tuition of Sebastian Zuccato. Afterwards he goes to Bellini’s school, and there gets acquainted with another student, one year his junior, whose name is Barbarelli. They live together and work together in Venice; then young Barbarelli (known to posterity as Giorgione), after putting on certain spaces of wall and squares of canvas such color as the world had never before seen, dies in his early manhood and leaves Vecellio, whom we call Titian, to work on there in Venice till the plague stays his hand in his hundredth year. The genius came into the world, but all the possibilities of his development depended upon the place and the time. He came exactly in the right place and precisely at the right time. To be born not far from Venice in the days of Bellini, to be taken there at nine years old, to have Giorgione for one’s comrade, all this was as fortunate for an artistic career as the circumstances of Alexander of Macedon were for a career of conquest.

LETTER III.

TO AN ARTIST WHO WAS FITTING UP A MAGNIFICENT NEW STUDIO.

Pleasure of planning a studio—Opinions of an outsider—Saint Bernard—Father Ravignan—Goethe’s study and bed-room—Gustave Doré’s studio—Leslie’s painting-room—Turner’s opinion—Habits of Scott and Dickens—Extremes good—Vulgar mediocrity not so good—Value of beautiful views to literary men—Montaigne—Views from the author’s windows.

Nothing in the life of an artist is more agreeable than the building and furnishing of the studio in which he hopes to produce his most mature and perfect work. It is so pleasant to labor when we are surrounded by beauty and convenience, that painters find a large and handsome studio to be an addition to the happiness of their lives, and they usually dream of it, and plan it, several years before the dream is realized.

Only a few days ago I was talking on this very subject with an intellectual friend who is not an artist, and who maintained that the love of fine studios is in great part a mere illusion. He admitted the necessity for size, and for a proper kind of light, but laughed at carved oak, and tapestry, and armor, and the knicknacks that artists encumber themselves with. He would have it that a mind thoroughly occupied with its own business knew nothing whatever of the objects that surrounded it, and he cited two examples—Saint Bernard, who travelled all day by the shore of Lake Leman without seeing it, and the père Ravignan, who worked in a bare little room with a common table of blackened pine and a cheap rush-bottomed chair. On this I translated to him, from Goethe’s life by Lewes, a passage which was new to him and delighted him as a confirmation of his theory. The biographer describes the poet’s study as “a low-roofed narrow room, somewhat dark, for it is lighted only through two tiny windows, and furnished with a simplicity quite touching to behold. In the centre stands a plain oval table of unpolished oak. No arm-chair is to be seen, no sofa, nothing which speaks of ease. A plain hard chair has beside it the basket in which he used to place his handkerchief. Against the wall, on the right, is a long pear-tree table, with bookshelves, on which stand lexicons and manuals.... On the side-wall again, a bookcase with some works of poets. On the wall to the left is a long desk of soft wood, at which he was wont to write. A sheet of paper with notes of contemporary history is fastened near the door. The same door leads into a bed-room, if bed-room it can be called, which no maid-of-all-work in England would accept without a murmur: it is a closet with a window. A simple bed, an armchair by its side, and a tiny washing-table with a small white basin on it, and a sponge, is all the furniture. To enter this room with any feeling for the greatness and goodness of him who slept here, and who here slept his last sleep, brings tears into our eyes, and makes the breathing deep.”

When I had finished reading this passage, my friend exclaimed triumphantly, “There! don’t you see that it was just because Goethe had imaginative power of a strong and active kind that he cared nothing about what surrounded him when he worked? He had statues and pictures to occupy his mind when it was disengaged, but when he wrote he preferred that bare little cell where nothing was to be seen that could distract his attention for an instant. Depend upon it, Goethe acted in this matter either from a deliberate and most wise calculation, or else from the sure instinct of genius.”

Whilst we were on this subject I thought over other instances, and remembered my surprise on visiting Gustave Doré in his painting-room in Paris. Doré has a Gothic exuberance of imagination, so I expected a painting-room something like Victor Hugo’s house, rather barbarous, but very rich and interesting, with plenty of carved cabinets, and tapestry, and biblos, as they call picturesque curiosities in Paris. To my surprise, there was nothing (except canvases and easels) but a small deal table, on which tubes of oil-color were thrown in disorder, and two cheap chairs. Here, evidently, the pleasure of painting was sufficient to occupy the artist; and in the room where he made his illustrations the characteristics were simplicity and good practical arrangements for order, but there was nothing to amuse the imagination. Mr. Leslie used to paint in a room which was just like any other in the house, and had none of the peculiarities of a studio. Turner did not care in the least what sort of a room he painted in, provided it had a door, and a bolt on the inside. Scott could write anywhere, even in the family sitting-room, with talk going forward as usual; and after he had finished Abbotsford, he did not write in any of its rich and noble rooms, but in a simple closet with book-shelves round it. Dickens wrote in a comfortable room, well lighted and cheerful, and he liked to have funny little bronzes on his writing-table.

The best way appears to be to surround ourselves, whenever it can be conveniently done, with whatever we know by experience to be favorable to our work. I think the barest cell monk ever prayed in would be a good place for imaginative composition, and so too would be the most magnificent rooms in Chatsworth or Blenheim. A middling sort of place with a Philistine character, vulgar upholstery, and vulgar pictures or engravings, is really dangerous, because these things often attract attention in the intervals of labor and occupy it in a mean way. An artist is always the better for having something that may profitably amuse and occupy his eye when he quits his picture, and I think it is a right instinct which leads artists to surround themselves with many picturesque and beautiful things, not too orderly in their arrangement, so that there may be pleasant surprises for the eye, as there are in nature.

For literary men there is nothing so valuable as a window with a cheerful and beautiful prospect. It is good for us to have this refreshment for the eye when we leave off working, and Montaigne did wisely to have his study up in a tower from which he had extensive views.

There is a well-known objection to extensive views, as wanting in snugness and comfort, but this objection scarcely applies to the especial case of literary men. What we want is not so much snugness as relief, refreshment, suggestion, and we get these, as a general rule, much better from wide prospects than from limited ones. I have just alluded to Montaigne,—will you permit me to imitate that dear old philosopher in his egotism and describe to you the view from the room I write in, which cheers and amuses me continually? But before describing this let me describe another of which the recollection is very dear to me and as vivid as a freshly-painted picture. In years gone by, I had only to look up from my desk and see a noble loch in its inexhaustible loveliness, and a mountain in its majesty. It was a daily and hourly delight to watch the breezes play about the enchanted isles, on the delicate silvery surface, dimming some clear reflection, or trailing it out in length, or cutting sharply across it with acres of rippling blue. It was a frequent pleasure to see the clouds play about the crest of Cruachan and Ben Vorich’s golden head, gray mists that crept upwards from the valleys till the sunshine suddenly caught them and made them brighter than the snows they shaded. And the leagues and leagues of heather on the lower land to the southward that became like the aniline dyes of deepest purple and blue, when the sky was gray in the evening—all save one orange-streak! Ah, those were spectacles never to be forgotten, splendors of light and glory, and sadness of deepening gloom when the eyes grew moist in the twilight and secretly drank their tears.

And yet, wonderful as it was, that noble and passionately beloved Highland scenery was wanting in one great element that a writer imperatively needs. In all that natural magnificence humanity held no place. Hidden behind a fir-clad promontory to the north, there still remained, it is true, the gray ruin of old Kilchurn, and far to the south-west, in another reach of the lake, the island-fortress of Ardhonnel. But there was not a visible city with spires and towers, there were only the fir-trees on the little islands and a few gravestones on the largest. Beyond, were the depopulated deserts of Breadalbane.

Here, where I write to you now, it seems as if mankind were nearer, and the legends of the ages written out for me on the surface of the world. Under the shadow of Jove’s hill rises before me one of the most ancient of European cities, soror et æmula Romæ. She bears on her walls and edifices the record of sixty generations. Temple, and arch, and pyramid, all these bear witness still, and so do her ancient bulwarks, and many a stately tower. High above all, the cathedral spire is drawn dark in the morning mist, and often in the clear summer evenings it comes brightly in slanting sunshine against the steep woods behind. Then the old city arrays herself in the warmest and mellowest tones, and glows as the shadows fall. She reigns over the whole width of her valley to the folds of the far blue hills. Even so ought our life to be surrounded by the loveliness of nature—surrounded, but not subdued.

INDEX.

Abolition of custom, how to effect, 252

Abstinence from newspaper reading, 461

Accomplishments, masculine and feminine, 303

Accumulation of preparatory knowledge, 448

Accumulators, great, of money, 237

Activity, mere, a waste of time, 190

Adult brain, the, 162

Advantages of few authors to poor, 244 — of experience, 420

Affectations of caste, 351

Affirmations based upon authority, 282

African traveller and map-makers, 469

Alcibiades, education of, 117

Alphabet, Greek, 354

Amateurism, 134

Ampère, profoundly scientific, 278 — anecdote of, 287

Amusement, necessity of, 454

Analytical observation, value of, 310

Anatomy, difficulty of study, 116

Ancients, incorrect use of word, 146 — and moderns compared, 255

Application and opportunities, 244

Arabia, use of coffee, 40

Archimedes in the bath, 310 — at Syracuse, 539

Aristocracy, liberal and illiberal, 358 — unwritten religious law of, 366 — and democracy, 341 — spirit of, in reading, 472

Arnold, Dr., quoted, 144, 535 — definition of religion, 271 — intellectual force, 278

Arnold, Matthew, “Self-dependence” quoted, 458

Art of reading, 211 — of resting, 455

Artist, idea of happy marriage, 289

Artistic conception of black coats, 249

Artists, drudgery of, 75 — poor critics, 95

Arts, practical pursuit of, 498

Assimilating power of brain, 162

Assimilation, power of, 167

Association of ideas, 168

Atheism, popular construction, 272

Athenian education, 117

Attraction of the future, 255

Author in mortal disease, to an, 53 — and tradesman compared, 236 — his advice about notes, 167 — his study described, 551

Authors, dependence upon private means, 232 — young, eagerness of, 419 — selfishness of, 471 — condition since Goldsmith’s time, 509

Authorship, privilege of, 341

Available knowledge, 115

Baker, Sir Samuel, and wife, 302

Balzac’s method in literature, 421

Barbarian notions, return to, 356

Bargeman’s wife, example of, 417

Basis, moral, the, 67

Baudelaire, Charles, quoted, 85

Beckford, Mr., author of “Vathek,” 215 — two thousand slaves labor for, 218

Beer, use of, 36

Belgian school of painting, 73

Bixio, Alexandre, death-bed, 53

Black coats artistic at dinner table, 249

Blessing of good, cheap literature, 244

Boar-hunt, the author at, 46

Bodily exercise, neglect of, 48

Body and brain, close connection, 21

Book-making differs from literature, 83

Books and newspapers, 470

Bossuet, 232

Bourgeoisie, low condition, 367

Brain and body, close connection, 21

Brain work unfavorable to digestion, 34

“Bramleighs, The,” quoted, 501

Bruno, Giordano, passion for philosophy, 79 — constant work of, 541

Buckland, Mrs., 303

Bunyan, results of solitude, 411

Burns, quoted, 353 — separation from culture, 353 — injustice of, 354

Byron, cause of his death, 21 — aristocracy of, 347 — poetical inspiration of, 450

Capacity and preference, relation, 87

Careers aided by wealth, 225

Carelessness, danger of, 224

Carpenter, Dr., surrenders practice for science, 222

Caste, prejudices of, 348

Catholic Church power in 14th century, 257 — Roman, belief of, 272

Central passion of men of ability, 231

Chance acquaintances, 376

Character, positive or negative end, 475

“Character” quoted, 507

Charity, intellectual, 438

Chemist, a product of industrial communities, 520

Chemistry, intellectual, 105

Children, imitative power, 162 — proper division of time, 482

Child-teaching, 155

Christian, muscular, to a, 42

Christianity, fashionable, 394

Church of Rome, embodiment of tradition, 261 — service to European civilization, 261

Class jealousy, 518

Classical accomplishments, 351

Clergy at variance with scientists, 274 — English, 490 — restrictions of, 490 — injustice and inaccuracy of, 491

Clerical profession, advantages, 489 — incompatible with intellectual freedom, 422

Code of customs constitutes law, 251

Coffee and tea, use of, 39

Colloquial use of language, 147

Communard’s hatred of superiority, 369

Communicativeness of chance acquaintances, 376

Community, intelligent, is conservative, 251

Compensation, principle of, 212

Completeness of education, 171

Composition, drudgery of, 72

Comte, Auguste, laments consequences of anxiety, 230 — atheist and scientist, 279 — voluntary isolation of, 411 — abstinence from newspapers, 466 — mysticism of, 468

Condescension, intellectual advised, 402

Conjugal felicity, degrees of, 297

Contemporary literature, indifference to, 471

Contempt for skill, 503 — for trade, 522

Continent, absence of gentlemen, 364

Controversy, unfairness of, 464

Conversation of women, 325 — between the sexes, 332 — generally dull, 398

Cookery, science of, 35

Copernicus, monument at Warsaw, 261

Correspondents, the two contrasted, 345

Cotton-manufacturer, letter to, 513

Cotton-trade, effect on the mind, 525

Country people, ignorance of, 439

Cream and curacoa, 331

Creative faculty may be commanded, 85

Critical faculty of English clergy, 277

Critics, artists as, 95

Culture, moral utility, 101 — proper limitations of, 106 — how rich may best serve its cause, 323 — of middle classes, 241 — independent of sex, 304 — induces sincerity, 332 — hostility of democracy, 369 — high, isolates, 407 — facilities for obtaining, 432 — individual, national gain, 433

Curate, poor, in prosperous community, 287

Custom and tradition, 246 — the one law of society, 248 — a necessary aid to religion, 248

Custom nature’s provision for reform, 250 — precious legacy of the past, 251 — not final, but a form, 251 — opposition unphilosophical, 251 — how to procure abolition, 252 — resistance sometimes imperative, 258

Cuvier, a model student, 427

Decline of old prejudices, 522

Democracy and aristocracy, 341 — envious, 360 — its levelling down tendency, 363 — intolerance of, 366 — metropolitan and provincial, 368 — hostile to culture, 369

De Saussure, labors of, 229

De Sénancour, 232 — quoted, 406

Descent of man, 274

De Stael, Madame, literary methods, 62

Development of natural gifts, 172 — of faculty, 175

Deviation produced by marriage, 317

Dickens, narrowness of, 347 — study described, 549

Discipline necessary to success, 81 — object of, 84 — value and necessity, 449 — of a professional career, 504

Discussions with ladies, best course, 337

Disease, effect of mental labor, 18

Diseased, experience of, 55

Disinterestedness, most essential virtue, 91

Displacement of native tongue, 157

Dissatisfaction of cultured persons, 431

Distinctions in trade, 521

Disuse of native tongue, 156

Diversity of belief in religion, 265

Domestic picture, a, 57

Doré, Gustave, painting-room, 549

Dress-coat, the young gentleman lacking, 245

Drill, intellectual, advantages of, 459

Drinks, question of, 35

Drudgery in all work, 71

Dullness of general conversation, 398

Dunces, illustrious, 80

Dürer, Albert, Melencolia, 424

Duty, occasional, of eccentricity, 253 — of cultured men to society, 401

Eagerness of young authors, 419

Eccentricity sometimes a moral duty, 253 — sometimes an intellectual duty, 253

Ecclesiastical authority, remarkable decline, 256

Economy of time, 177

Education, 104 — use of the word, 173 — completeness of, 171 — want of thoroughness and reality, 290 — of sexes compared, 290 — fashionable, 380

Educator, professional, practice the best, 226

Egotism of the uneducated mother, 324

Electricity practically annihilates distance, 257

Elevation of intellectual life, 55

Emerson’s rule, 472

Empire, Second, vulgarity of, 367

Énault, Louis, study of languages, 181

Encouragement to the poor student, 243

Energy, human, limitation of, 244

English officer in Paris, 163 — strong to resist voluptuousness, 218 — recognize refining influence of wealth, 240 — gentry, free expenditures, 241 — gentleman, methods of culture, 241 — clergy, criticism of literature, 277 — tradesman, anecdote of, 313 — correspondent quoted, 463

Englishman, eminent, poor remuneration, 234

Engraving, 76

Ennui in work, 423

Equality, theoretic, 372

Erdan, M., letters by, 469

Essential virtue, disinterestedness, chief, 91

Etchers, the woes of, 76

Etiquette of society bar to intellectual advance, 326

European civilization, service of church, 261 — governments resist power of church, 258

Excesses, intellectual, dangers of, 101

Excitement, cerebral, intellectual products, 446

Exercise, bodily, need of, 49

Exeter, bishop of, quoted, 70

Experience, the lesson, 191 — advantages of, 420

Experiment replaces tradition, 254

Experiments on public taste, 235

Facilities for obtaining culture, 432

Facility of acquiring languages, 161

Faculty, development of, 175

Fane, Julian, religion of, 267 — late hours, 467

Faraday, intellectual career, 279, 505 — a Sandemanian, 280

Fashionable education, 380 — religion, 393

Fickleness of fashion, 392

Fine arts, technical difficulties, 76 — pursuit of, 498

Five facts regarding languages, 152

France, invasion by Germans, 95 — intellectual isolation, 148 — vulgar language of people, 365 — low condition of bourgeoisie, 367

French monarchy, question of, 94 — college, to a principal of, 137 — cook, perfection of art, 104 — officer, incident of, 362 — peasantry, intellectual apathy, 241 — peasantry, parsimony, 241 — peasantry without newspapers, 466 — school of painting, 73 — students of English, isolated, 122

Frenchman writes a school-primer with good results, 234

Fresco-painters, troubles of, 76

Friendships of the intellect, reality of, 375 — succession of, 376

Future, attraction of, 255

Galton, Mr., advice to travellers, 416

Garibaldi, Italian follower of, 45

Generation, our, poetical events, 95

Genius, popular impression of, 447 — military, of Napoleon, 448 — dependent upon culture, 450

Gentlemen, absence of, on Continent, 364

German invasion of France, 95

Germans, intellectual labor of, 200

Germany, secular power resists ecclesiastical, 258

Girardin, St. Marc, 255

“Give it time,” 193

Goethe, habits of, 33 — pecuniary independence, 233 — intellectual activity, 427 — interest in intellectual labor, 427 — production of Werther, 428 — at bombardment of Verdun, 540

Goldsmith, Oliver, elaborate dress, 390

Good use of opportunity, 212 — and cheap literature, 244

Government patronage of intellectual pursuits, 138 — and priests lack harmony, 492

Great problem of human life, 242

Greek, general view of, 146 — uselessness in industry and commerce, 354 — alphabet, imaginary terrors, 355

Growing old, the rapidity of, 59

Habits, sure to be acquired, 478

Hack-writing, 508

Heine, last years of, 534

Helps, Sir Arthur, quoted, 186, 230

Hermit, experience of, 405

Highland scenery lacks humanity, 551

Historians, partiality of, 95 — future, value of journalist, 469

Historical party in England, 257 — party in France, 257

Honesty, importance of, note, 97 — value of, 265 — foundation of intellectual life, 274

Hoogstraten and Rembrandt, 378

Hours of idleness, 198

Household, intellectual level of, 434

How to learn a language, 147 — women help men, 297

Hugo, Victor, intellectual decadence, 95

Human energy, limitation of, 244 — race, longevity, 274

Humboldt, Alexander, intellectual greatness, 90

Humboldt, Alexander, fortune servant of ambition, 223 — in South America, 516 — youth of, 538

Hurry, evil consequences of, 209

Huxley, Professor, quoted, 372

Hygienics, intellectual, 415

Ideal division of life, 412

Ideas, association of, 168 — ratio of narrowness, 241

Idleness, hours of, 198 — value of, 458

Illusions, popular, concerning languages, 151

Immorality of intellectual people, 99

Inapplicability of past experience, 256

Incompatibility, fashionable and intellectual life, 394

Incongruous associations, 170

Indirect uses of study, 131

Indolent men who like to be hurried, 207

Industrial classes, results of their labor, 520

Infallibility of the pope, 281

Infraction of custom, penalties, 247

Ingres, counsel to pupils, 421

Ingres, Madame, the first, 289

Inspiration, sister of daily labor, 85 — waiting for, 449

Instinct of accumulation, 237 — of solitude, 409

Intellect does not recognize authority, 282

Intellectual and religious questions, difference, 270 — attainments of two houses of Parliament, 240 — class necessary, 515 — deviations resulting from marriage, 317 — kingdom, difficult entrance of the rich, 220 — life, inward law, 88

Intellectual requirements of, 221 — foundation, difficulty, 274 — differs from religious life, 275 — based upon personal investigation, 275 — a solitary one, 298 — absence of caste, 346 — man rebels against custom, 250 — two courses open in marriage, 287 — methods independent of tradition, 288 — nature of women, 306

Intellectual natures need intellectual activity, 430 — progress, necessity of, 521 — reaction against money making, 229 — religion, foundations of, 272 — religion, search and result, 273 — separation of the sexes, 303 — stupidity of amassing money, 237 — workers, suggestions to, 18

International marriages, 162

Interruption, evils of, 204

Intolerance of democracies, 366

Intoxication, literary, 67

Invasion of France by Germans, 95

Inventions a factor in politics, 256 — mainly due to men, 311

Inward law of intellectual life, 88

Irregular verbs, time-wasters, 193

Irrigation, intellectual, 436

Isolation of high culture, 407

Italian deserter, the, 157

Jacquemont, Victor, letters of, 200

Japanese, revolution of thought and practice, 354

Jealousy of class, 518

Johnson, dignity of his threadbare sleeves, 390

Joubert, 441 — productive power, 443 — quoted, 255

Journalism in England, 511

Journalist, value to future historians, 469

Journals, party, injustice of, 464

Kant, Immanuel, habits of, 27

Keats, genius dependent upon culture, 450

Kepler, early struggles, 232

Knight service in society, 251

Knowledge of mankind, 457 — selection of, 108

Labor, pecuniary rewards of, 233 — of previous ages, disdain for, 260 — dominant and subordinate, 478 — of preparation, 448

Lalla Rookh, Moore’s trials, 72

Language, Latin as a common, 127

Language, facility of acquisition, 161 — in France, vulgarity of, 365

Languages, popular illusions, 151 — five facts, 152 — separation of, 159

Late hours, 477

Latin, modern ignorance of, 121 — island, a, 128

Latinist, the modern, 121

Law, complex code of customs, 251 — of society, 248

Lawyers, superiority of, in certain directions, 495

Lay element of Europe, powerful, 491

Legal profession, advantages of, 493

Leslie’s studio, 549

Levels, intellectual, 435

Lever, Charles, quoted, 501

Lewes’ “Life of Goethe” quoted, 451, 547 — quoted, 544

Lewis, John, practice work of, 74

Life, an ideal division of, 412

Limited knowledge and experience of the poor, 240

Limitation of human energy, 244

Line-engraver, labor of, 76

Linguist, the modern, 150

Listening, the art of, 398

Literature, to a student of, 130 — good and cheap, 244 — criticism of English clergy, 277 — contemporary, indifference to, 471

Literary intoxication, 67

Littré quoted, 259

Locality, mental effect of, 530

Locke quoted, 85

Loitering element in liberal education, 196

Longevity, young men careless of, 65 — of human race, 274

Lost opportunities, 199

Louvre, wanton destruction of, 368

Love, necessity of, 454

Lullo, Raimond, Oriental missionary, 541

“Luxury,” article in Cornhill Magazine, 315 — quoted, 316

Lytton, Robert, letter of Lady Westmorland, 267 — estimate of Julian Fane, 361

Man unlike a planet, 452 — need of pluck, 70

Mankind, operations of riches and poverty, 239 — best knowledge of, 457

Marriage, 285 — true, a slow intergrowth, 286 — general ignorance regarding, 286 — complex effects, 287 — of intellectual men, 287 — a distinguished artist’s views, 289 — ideal for man of literary culture, 290 — intellectual, 291 — how decided, 293 — of French professors, 294 — of the Scotch lawyer, 296 — the intellectual ideal, 299 — the necessity of keeping up its interest, 301 — frequently leads to intellectual deviation, 317 — risk of eccentric men, 323 — semi-publicity, 323

Marriages, international, 162

Maximilian, Emperor, execution of, 95

Mediæval builders, 260

Medicine, profession of, 495

Meissonier, practice for self-instruction, 74

“Melencolia” of Albert Dürer, 424

Memory, defective, advantage of, 165 — selecting, 166 — rational art of, 169

Men, how helped by women, 296 — disguise their thoughts from women, 330

Mental labor not injurious to healthy persons, 22 — may aggravate disease, 18

Mental stimulants, 69 — refusals should be heeded, 88 — powers, immoderate use, 20 — work, physical preparation, 479

Metaphor of the mountains, 228

“Midshipman Easy,” allusion to, 188

Military genius of Napoleon, 448 — profession, 497 — profession, intellectual poverty of, 498

Milton, forced retirement, 411

Mind of a fashionable person, 380

Minds, three classes, 443

Miracles, belief in, 272

Miscalculation, bad results, 196

Miscellaneous reading, our debt to, 132

Mitford, Miss, quoted, 471

Mobility of fashionable taste, 392

Modern education, 116 — inventions, power of, 256 — languages, to student of, 149 — languages, limits of soundness, 183 — mind looks forward, 255

Modern Painters, result of long study, 229 — work of genius and wealth, 229

Money, the influences of, 216 — restraints of, 238 — the guardian of peace, 238 — accumulated labor of the past, 238 — protector of intellectual life, 238

Montaigne, early education of, 121 — purchases of books, 405 — his tower, 550

Moore’s trials with “Lalla Rookh,” 72

Moral basis, the, 67 — utility of culture, 101

Morality, individual theories, 99 — public opinion regulates, 257 — general advance of, 258

Morbid mind, cure for, 430

Morris, a diligent student, 450

Mother and son, difference in religious views, 284 — the uneducated, 325

Mulready, preparation for new picture, 74

Multiplicity of modern studies, 120

Muscular Christian, to a, 42

Music, refining influence of, 44, 132 — limits of soundness, 183

Napoleon, military genius of, 448

Napoleon III., overthrow of, 95

National intellectual life, 433

Native tongue, results of disuse, 156

Natural connection between wealth and culture, 240 — gifts, development of, 172 — laws, independent working, 282

Nature, extraordinary reactions, 100 — high life in, 359

Nature, provision for intellectual life in marriage, 292 — will be obeyed, 248

Naval profession, 497

Navy, English, reconstruction of, 262

Neapolitan servant, case of, 158

Necessity a help in industrial pursuits, 525 — disturbs higher intellectual life, 225, 226

Need of society and solitude, 403

Negative end of character, 475 — qualification for work, 109

Neighbors, education of, 437

Newspaper reading, abstinence from, 460

Newspapers as educators, 437 — daily house-talk of the world, 465 — in United States, 466 — in France, 466

Newton, desire for solitude, 410

Nervous system, physiological action, 17

Nightingale, Florence, quoted, 204

Night-work, medical objection to, 481

Noblesse, old, ignorance of, 363

Nomad, English, life of, 530

Nomadic habits of higher classes, 356

Obedience to nature, necessity of, 248

Object of intellectual discipline, 84

Occasion, mistaken estimates, 186

Opposition to custom unphilosophical, 251 — of method between intellect and faith, 282

Oil painting, dangers of, 76

Old prejudices declining, 522

Opportunities lost, 199 — unlimited, danger of, 214 — and application, 244

Origin of discipline, 82

Orleans, Duchess of, 220 — system of mental culture, 220

Orthodoxy no guaranty of intellectual capacity, 299

Outlet, intellectual, necessary, 435

Painters, intellectual discipline of, 498

Painting, different schools, 73

Palgrave’s, Mr., “Travels in Arabia,” 40

Papacy, decline and fall of temporal power, 469

Papal infallibility, 281

Paris, siege of, 95

Parliament, houses of, high attainments, 240

Parsimony of French peasantry, 241

Party journals, injustice, 464

Past, custom a precious legacy, 251 — not reliable as a guide, 256

Patriotism as a stimulant, 69

Peasants, instruction of, 438

Pecuniary rewards of labor, 233

Pendennis, Major, typical life, 65

Philistine intellects, 202

Philosophy, popular acceptation of term, 273 — a truly intellectual, 417

Physical basis, the, 17 — repugnances of surgeons, 87 — preparation for mental labor, 479

Physician, social rise of, 496

Physiological action of nervous system, 17

Pioneers, intellectual, 516

Planet, dissimilarity of man to, 452

Plans should be well arranged, 189

Pluck, value of, 70

Poet, the true, 447

Poetical events of our generation, 95 — teachings, true intentions, 453

Political influence of culture, 436

Politics, preponderance in newspapers, 465

Polyglot waiters, 165

Poor, limited knowledge and experience, 240 — incompetent for work of Parliament, 240 — independence of public opinion, 243 — man desirous of culture, consolation, 243

Pope of Rome, affirmed infallibility, 281

Popular illusions regarding languages, 151 — impression regarding genius, 447

Positive end of character, 475

Poverty and peace incompatible, 223 — unfavorable to intellectual life, 224 — advantage in liberal professions, 226 — obstacle to intellectual perfection, 239

Power of assimilation, 167 — of time, 176

Practical suggestions to intellectual workers, 18

Practice, best professional as educator, 226 — of journalism, 511

Preference and capacity, relation, 87

Prejudices of caste, 348 — old, decline of, 522

Preparatory labor, 448

Prescott, Mr., instance of, 63

Preservation of the senses, 60, 64

Priests, manner of religious teaching, 270 — and government not harmonious, 492

Prince Consort, example and influence, 305

Problem, great, of life, 242

Products of cerebral excitement, 446

Professions, liberal, advantages of poverty, 226 — test of, 392 — and trades, 488 — purpose of, 507

Progress, satisfactions of, 79 — its debt to rebellion, 250 — of work, interest necessary, 416

Propositions about modern languages, 152

Protection in intellectual pursuits, 137

Public taste, experiments on, 235 — opinion, regulator of morality, 257 — opinion in France, 258

Purpose of a profession, 506

Qualifications for work, 109

Railways, unforeseen effect, 356

Rational art of memory, 169

Ravignon, pere, 547

Reactions of Nature, 100

Reading, miscellaneous, advantage of, 132 — painful to uneducated, 438 — newspapers, abstinence from, 460 — practised by most people, 474

Rebellion, debt of progress to, 250

Reconciliation of poverty and the soul, 242

Refinements of a language, 164

Reform and progress of custom, 250

Refusals, mental, should be heeded, 86

Regret for lost time, 456

Regularity of work, 446

Regulated economy of time, 203

Relation between preference and capacity, 87 — of trivial events to great principles, 329

Religion as a stimulant, 69 — requires aid of custom, 248 — different views of mother and son, 264 — indefinable, 271 — according to popular instinct, 272 — intellectual foundation of, 273 — influence of caste-law, 366

Religious vitality, periods of, 265 — teaching, 270 — and intellectual questions, difference, 270 — creed does not weaken critical faculty, 277 — belief, test of, 272

Rembrandt, answer to Hoogstraten, 378

Renan, M., charges Second Empire with vulgarity, 367

Repugnances to be overcome, 87

Resisting power of adult brain, 162

Rest, necessary in intellectual labor, 454

Resting, the art of, 455

Restoration of French monarchy, 94

Restraints of money, 238

Retreats demanded by intellectual life, 221

Return to barbarism, 356

Rich man a director of work, 219 — social diversions of, 220 — vulgar people, 242

Road to success, commonly gradual increase, 226

Roman Catholic, belief of, 272

Romans, education of, 118

Roscoe, William, Italian studies, 134

Rosse, Lord, colossal telescope, 220 — useful application of wealth, 220

Rossini, advice to young composer, 195

Ruskin, Mr., value of artistic perception, 62 — extract from Modern Painters, 215 — wealth of material, 229 — career of, 229

Sacerdotal system, 270

Sadness of intellectual workers, 426

Sainte Beuve, example of self-discipline, 83 — system of living, 236 — atheist and scientist, 279 — quoted, 458

Saint-Bernard at Lake Leman, 547

Saint-Hilaire, Geoffroy, in blindness, 57

Saint-Hilaire, Geoffrey, at Alexandria, 540

Sand, George, working under pressure, 23 — quoted, 86 — novel of “Valvèdre,” 319

Satisfactions of intellectual riches, 424

Schiller, literary hack-work of, 233

Schoolmaster, thankless office of, 337

Science, methods and laws of, 283 — requires heat and heroism, 276 — of living, 395

Scientific cookery, importance of, 35 — writers and thinkers, independence, 258 — at variance with clergy, 274

Scott, Sir Walter, physical exercise, 24 — habits of, 33 — writing-closet, 549

Secular power resists ecclesiastical, 258

Selection of knowledge, 108

Selfishness of authors, 471

Senses, usefulness to intellectual life, 60

Separation of languages, 159

Shelley, boating exercise, 24 — the morality of, 99 — writings unprofitable, 232 — desire for solitude, 409

Ships of the line, old, 262

Shopkeepers, treatment by English authors, 348

Siege of Paris, 95

Silent student, attainments, 444

Simon Jules, allusion to, 141

Sincerity induced by culture, 332

Skill, indifference to, 502

Skip judiciously in reading, 211

Small talk in England and France, 399

Smiles, Mr., Character quoted, 506

Smith, Sydney, quoted, 173 — common sense of, 277

Smoking, moderate and excessive, 39

Social diversions of the rich, 220

Society, penalties for infringing custom, 247 — will be obeyed, 248 — desires harmony, 249 — and solitude, 374 — fashionable demands, 380 — external deference to culture, 393

Solitude and society, 374 — traditional view of, 405 — effects upon man, 406

Soul and poverty, reconciliation, 242

Soundness, requisite to best success, 179

Spain, secular power resists ecclesiastical, 250

Spenser, the fables of, 251

State schools, exclusion of theology, 491

Station fetters intellect, 371

Steam makes cities of States, 257

Stimulants, effects of, 37 — mental, 69

Stone in Glen Croe, the, 455

Structural relations of languages, 170

Student, the poor, encouragement, 243 — the poor, sad story, 344 — dangers of society, 382

Study, indirect uses of, 131 — of medicine, 495

Substitution of experiment for tradition, 251

Success, result of discipline, 81 — common road, gradual increase, 226

Sue, Eugene, daily habits, 24

Surgeon, social rise of, 496

Surroundings of cultivated men, 434, 531

Swiss gentleman, anecdote of, 276

Systematic arrangement of work, 478

Taste, public, experiments on, 235

Tea and coffee, use of, 39

Teachings, poetical, true intentions, 458

Telescope, colossal, of Lord Rosse, 220

Temptations of wealth, 218

Test of religious belief, 272

Theology, exclusion from state schools, 481

Theoretic equality amongst men, 372

Thiers, antecedents of, 463 — elevation of, 464

Thoughts upon “Government” quoted, 96

Thrift, the principle of, 193

Tillier, Claude, doctrine of, 457

Time, the power of, 176 — loss of, 177 — mistaken estimates, 186 — regulated economy, 203

Titian, early surroundings, 544

Tobacco, use of, 38

Trade distinctions, 521 — contempt for, 522

Trades and professions, 488

Tradition and custom, 246 — rejected for experiment, 254 — decline of authoritative influence, 200 — church of Rome, embodiment, 261 — in industrial and fine arts, note, 263

Training, intellectual, 214

Tranquillity conducive to intellectual success, 480

Travellers, Mr. Galton’s advice, 416

Triumph of discipline, 86

Trivial events, relation to great principles, 328

Truth a law of religion, 265

Turner’s studio, 549

Tyco Brahe, princely ease, 233 — surroundings of, 537

Ultramontane party, 91

Undisciplined writer, to an, 80

United States, influence of newspapers, 486

Unknown element of all problems, 188

Unproductive class, the, 444

Utility, moral, of culture, 101

“Valvedre,” extract from, 319

Variety of labor for children, 482

Various pursuits, objection to, 114

Vathek, written at a single sitting, 26 — author of, 216

Vatican, council of, 127

Vinci, Leonardo da, education of, 172

Waiting for inspiration, 449

Want hinders intellectual pursuits, 231

Warsaw, monument to Copernicus, 261

Wealth, double temptation of, 218 — an obstacle to labor, 219 — inordinate respect for, 502

Werther indicative of Goethe’s ennui, 428

Westmorland, Lady, letter to Robert Lytton, 267

Why men choose their wives, 292

Wine, use of, 35

Wives of French professors, 294

Women and marriage, 285 — how they help men, 297 — incapacity for solitary mental labor, 302 — intellectual nature of, 306 — absence of scientific curiosity, 308 — rarity of invention among, 310 — lack inherent force for advance, 311 — do not hear the truth from men, 330 — conversation of, 325

Wordsworth, love of pedestrian excursions, 51 — failure as a London journalist, 232 — happy results of a legacy, 232 — advice to tourists, 288

Work, systematic arrangement desirable, 478

Work, article in Cornhill Magazine, 480

World recognizes performance only, 500

Wœpke, Franz, remarkable extent of studies, 103 — mathematician and orientalist, 223 — pension of Italian prince, 223

Writing against time, 209 — as a profession, 509

Young men careless of longevity, 65