co-existent of the Revival of Knowledge. For, what more worthy to be both the forerunner, and the mate, of a New Spirit of Inquiry,' than a Poesy, in which Love is the supreme principle of morality; in which Adventure, the Search of the Unknown, is the business of life; and in which the Marvellous is,-not Miracle, or Supernatural Interference, but the wonderfulness of Nature itself. That these, the first, especially, are really the distinguishing characteristics of Celtic Poesy, will be evident on comparing it, either with that of the Classic Age, or with that of the Teutonic Race. Compare the position of women and the character of love in the Carlovingian and in the Arthurian Romances. Compare especially Guinevere and Yseult with those 'Scandinavian furies,' as Renan calls them,1 Gudruna and Chriemhild. Compare the revengeful heroes of the Edda and Nibelung with the nobler-tempered knights of the Table Rounde. Consider the sympathy with Nature, and the sense of its magic, in the picture of the forest-life of Merlin the Wild; and even in such appellations as these; Knight of the Lion, Knight of the Falcon, Knight of the Swan. And Merlin especially consider, in legend, and in lay, in myth and romance. Surely we must have regard to the profounder moral forces of our nature, if we would account for that wonderful historical creation and its effects. And though Villemarqué's authority is questionable enough on certain points, I think that what he says, in rather a fine sentence about Merlin, is of unquestionable truth: la plus ancienne tradition ro

1 Renan, Poésie des Races Celtiques, in Essais de Moral et de Critique.

manesque a personnifié et idéalisé en lui le devouement passionné à tout ce que la grande époque chevaleresque jugeait digne de son respect, je veux dire, la religion, la patrie, la royauté, l'amour; l'amour pur, discret, délicat; la solitude à deux, éternellement enchantée.'1

But we had by this time reached our tents, already pitched where Rainald of Chatillon and his crusading knights, who had, like myself, rejoiced in the Romances of Merlin, of Launcelot, and of the San Greal, had encamped before us.

One was carried back to the close of the twelfth century, the glorious culminating epoch of the Middle Ages, or, as I should rather say, of the Catholic Feudal Period (eleventh to the fifteenth century), of that Modern Age which commenced with the Sixth Century B.C.-the epoch of Abelard and that Christian philosophy of Scholasticism, which, finally refuting itself in the conclusion that the same thing may be at once true to dogma and false to reason, began the philosophical emancipation of Europe: the epoch, in Britain, of William the Lion, and Richard the Lion-heart; on the continent of Europe, of Clement the Third, Frederick Barbarossa, and Philip Augustus; and in the East, of Manuel the First and Salah-ed-Deen: the epoch of the Third Crusade, the most romantic of all, the last of which Palestine was the scene, but the first, in which, emancipated in some degree, at length, from the ignorant and cruel fanaticism of Christian superstition, men were inspired rather by the strains of minne

1 L'Enchanteur Merlin, p. 234.

sängers, trouvères, and troubadours, than by the rhapsodies of hermits and the impostures of monks-and if, therefore, they now fought, not for the Galilæan Faith, but for honour; nor for the crown of martyrdom, but for the favour of their ladies fair; it was, at least, not as merciless fanatics that they fought, but as soldiers, vieing with their foes no less in magnanimity and courtesy than in dauntless valour.

The emancipation of Europe from the base yoke of ignorant, or enforced, belief in those Yahvehlegends and Osiris-myths which constitute Christian Orthodoxy, was then beginning; but it is now seven hundred years since; and Europeans still pretend, at least, belief in these Oriental fictions, and the priesthood, sworn to their defence, still find it pay.

SECTION II.-THE DEFINITION OF THE ETHICAL

STANDARD.

The next morning and forenoon we continued our discussion, journeying, from the Crusaders' encampment, round the head of the Gulf to the Palm-grove of Akaba..

A. It seems to me that one's bad opinion of the Middle Ages, as compared with our own epoch of enlightenment and civilisation, must depend on somewhat materialistic notions of the causes, and the tests of Morality. And thus, the general question we have already discussed with reference to Method and Art, namely, How are the inward and outward, ideal and formal, moral and intellectual, elements to be regarded in their relation to each other,-occurs in a new form.

B. I am not sure that I quite follow you. But as to the causes of Morality, I think there can be no doubt that they are knowledge, wealth, and health.

A. Exactly that is to say, outward conditions, and not ideal forces. And so, if a man gets ill, and ill-off, he should comfort himself with reflecting, not on the elevating, but on the degrading, influences of affliction?

B. Well, I made at one time special inquiries with the view of testing the theological dogma you allude ; and the evidence I collected proved that, in the vast majority of cases, bodily diseases and worldly reverses only sour the temper, and degrade the morals.

A. I fear that I must in great measure yield this point, at least, to you. And the conviction that it is as you say, even in many, if not in most, cases, makes the tragic aspect of the world all the darker. The wind is not tempered to the shorn lamb. It blows on all the flock alike. The strong are the better for it. The weak become, what, in Scotland, we call braxy, as they fall on the bleak hillside.

B. And as to the effect of wealth on Morality, compare the rich and the poor. There is, unquestionably, more morality in the upper than in the lower classes.

A. That depends on your idea of Morality.

B. I test and measure Morality by the justness of men's dealings with each other, and their non-abuse of power over women, children, and dependents.

A. Well, so to limit the meaning of the term Morality may be perfectly justifiable, or, indeed, necessary in certain scientific applications. But with

reference to the characterization of an individual, or of an age, it appears to me that it shuts out the indispensable consideration of the general moral feeling or

tone.

B. But do you make the distinction between the merit, and the value, of an act?

A. Certainly. The one refers to motive, the other to effect. But, making that distinction, I do not think that even the value, or outward elevating effect of an irreproachably moral life, according to your test, need be so great as that of, according to the same test, an immoral life. I mean, for instance, that one generous act may not only have greater merit, but more value than a hundred merely correct acts; and may, by a touch of that sympathy, which makes the whole world kin, outweigh many other acts which, by a merely outward test, may appear immoral. For the Standard of what is fair, what is a right use of power varies.

B. No doubt. But I take the Standard of the highest class.

A. But that seems to me unfair to the lowest class; so our Standard of Fairness differs. You understand, however, that I do not in the least object to the application of such a standard of Morality as you propose to measure the outward civilisation of a nation, or the outward propriety of a man. But what I object to is the application of such an outward standard to measure inward character. For this is, in fact, what is done, when moral epithets are applied, which undoubtedly refer rather to inward motive than to outward effect. By such a Standard you may, indeed, rightly, form a