classes-could hardly be otherwise than, if not the most perfect, at least the most perfectible, of all the institutions of Europe. Whatever may have been the extension, during the Whig rule, of the policy which originally dictated the Ecclesiastical Commission-and whatever the defects of the actual administration of the interests of the Church by that commission may have been the scheme of bringing offices, jurisdictions, and emoluments into conformity with the wants of our own age, was especially Sir Robert Peel's. First, with regard to bishoprics. The differences of episcopal revenue, ranging between 20,000l. or 30,000l. attached to the see of Durham, and 8007. or 900l. attached to the see of Llandaff, though in some respects fortuitous, had its origin also, in others, in appreciable differences of rank, which had long since subsided into traditions. Yet until Sir Robert Peel's accession to power in 1834, no effort appears to have been made by the executive to alter so ridiculous a system. The consequence was, that the prelate in possession of the poor see became a pluralist; and so long as pluralism received such a practical recognition from episcopal thrones, it was hopeless to eradicate it in parochial emoluments. The The poor Bishop was probably both a dean and a rector: as in the case of Bishop Bagot (Oxford), and of others. The statute compelled the dean to three months' residence; it compelled the Bishop and the rector to residence also; until at last it was impossible to say whether the diocese, the cathedral, or the parish, were the greater loser. Ecclesiastical jurisdictions were at the same time extremely anomalous, unequal, and undefined. It would be difficult, even now, to speak of them as affording general satisfaction to the Church; and it is still more difficult to applaud the system of legal procedure. The latter, however, formed no part of the policy of Peel. The Ecclesiastical Commission, no doubt, has committed as strange blunders as any other commission; but the minister had but little concern with the detail of its administration, and instead of suppressing offices, had he contented himself with making officers do their duty, there had been little to regret in his Church Reform. Whatever opinion may be formed regarding the partial suppression of capitular revenues, and of their conversion to the more active interests of the Church, it will be acknowledged on all hands that the reformation has at least tended to raise the position of the chapters themselves. Ecclesiastical politicians are probably unanimous in their condemnation of the old capitular system, which provided for the interests neither of the cathedrals themselves, nor of theological learning, nor of those practical wants of dioceses which have now been consulted at its expense. But they are divided in opinion, into those who wished that the reform should not involve the alienation of Capitular revenues, even to the cognate objects of diocesan improvement; and into those who desired to practicalise the application of ecclesiastical property. It appears to have been the policy of Sir Robert Peel to adopt an intervening course between these two extremes of opinion. In what degree the general principle of equalization, shadowed forth in these reforms, will ultimately be carried out, is a curious question for the future politics of the Church. Now that we have approximately equalized the stipends attached to all dignities, in their respective degrees of rank, shall we stop at the point which we have now reached; or shall we extend this just principle to the parochial revenues of the Church? Shall we continue to permit one incumbent to receive 1007. a-year, and another with an equal population to receive 7,0007.? Or shall we, though we reserve the operation of our reforms for the successors of existing incumbents, nevertheless be held to trench upon presumptively vested rights, by lessening in some instances the value of advowsons? All these are questions arising out of the ecclesiastical policy of Sir Robert Peel, and suggesting great difficulties in the removal or mitigation of great evils. On the question of the views of foreign policy entertained by the late Sir Robert Peel, M. Guizot ought to be a high authority. Yet, in his discussion of this question, there seems to be a strong disposition to render the subject subservient to a rather tortuous, and certainly not a very successful vindication of his own policy towards this country on one or two occasions: "When I say "his foreign policy" (says M. Guizot), my language is not perfectly accurate. Properly speaking, Sir Robert Peel had no foreign policy that was really his own, of which he had a clear conception, and which proposed to itself a special plan of European organization, and the adoption of which he assiduously applied himself to secure.'- P. 142. And he elsewhere considers that Sir Robert Peel derived his views of foreign policy almost entirely from the Duke of Wellington and Lord Aberdeen. M. Guizot continues: 'But if foreign policy were neither his dominant idea, nor his principal occupation, he had two powerful and noble maxims, or rather feelings, on this subject. He desired that peace and justice should prevail among states; and these mighty words were not for him merely a possession, a means of acting on the minds of men; he desired that peace and justice should prevail in the relations of England with other nations, seriously and sincerely, as a good and habitual policy. Although very solicitous about the greatness of his country, and even very accessible to popular impressions with regard to the national dignity and honour, he formed no design of aggrandizement for England, felt no selfish jealousy of foreign states, and had no mania for domination abroad, no fondness for displaying an undesired and arrogant The tithes of the Rectory of Doddington (Dioc. Ely), are commuted at 7,3067. influence. He respected the rights and dignity of other states, small as well as great, weak as well as strong; and regarded the employment of menace or force solely as a last extremity, legitimate only when it was absolutely necessary.'-P. 143. M. Guizot takes this opportunity of dealing with the Tahiti question at great length; and, as though with the resolution of justifying the policy of the French government on that subject, he appends much of the official correspondence which took place relating to it. This dissertation, and his remarks also on the question of the Spanish marriages, remind one of the Eastern proverb, that no man ever lost his way in a straight road. M. Guizot's arguments on these matters-we say it with the deepest respect for his intellectual and literary position-illustrate the converse of this very true and simple maxim. The plain truth appears to be, that M. Guizot was resolved to be minister of France. That he could only be by submitting to be the slave of an intriguing despot, and the defender and organ of an intriguing policy. His policy in Greece, although less commonly known, forms one of the most conclusive indications of his assumption-though, no doubt, of his unwilling assumption-of this character. The Tahiti policy of the French government is thus described by him: 'We wished to acquire in the Pacific Ocean a point which would serve at once as a healthy and safe penal settlement and a station to which our mercantile navy might resort for supplies or refuge, without involving ourselves in the burdens or risk of a great territorial establishment. The little archipelago of the Marquesas seemed to fulfil these conditions; it belonged to no other power. Admiral Dupetit-Thouars received directions to occupy it. No mention was made of Tahiti in his instructions; and we had absolutely formed no design, present or future, on that island.'-P. 167. Yet M. Guizot admits that, on the intelligence reaching them of the occupation of Tahiti, he ratified the act unhesitatingly;' although he was aware that the island formed an independent State under its own government, to which we had accredited a consul; and, in this respect, stood on an entirely different footing from the Marquesas. The institution of a French protectorate was attended (in the language of Sir Robert Peel himself), by a gross outrage and gross indignity towards the British consul in Tahiti.' When, therefore, Lord Aberdeen called upon M. Guizot for reparation, what is the plea by which M. Guizot in this volume justifies the conduct of the French admiral? That the French cabinet maintained its right to remove from any of its colonial establishments 'any foreign resident who might disturb the public order.' How could the island of Tahiti be a French colonial establish ment,' even in the eyes of the French government alone, before they had so much as ratified the sham and illegal protectorate which their naval authorities had set up under brute force and intimidation? How could even their ratification of the act, supposing that it had preceded the outrage in question, (which it did not,) entitle the French government to appropriate, as a colony, the territory of a state whose independence Great Britain had acknowledged by accrediting a representative to its prince? It would surely have been more consistent with the aim of these Memoirs of Sir Robert Peel by M. Guizot, if the author had not attempted to adapt them to a very unsuccessful defence of his own policy. Of these two Memoirs, however, that by M. Guizot will probably survive the volumes of official correspondence compiled by Sir Robert Peel himself. For a portraiture of Sir Robert's character, M. Guizot enjoyed great advantages. As a foreigner, he was sufficiently disconnected from party sentiments to write with justice: as a master of English history, and a frequent visitor to this country, he was possessed of every facility for public information: as the minister of France whose special aim it was to cultivate friendly relations with this country, he had gradually grown intimate with the great man whose biography he has written. This Memoir is, probably, too just and too thoughtful, so far as public considerations are involved, to admit of its being supplanted, unless another shall be published which will deal at greater length, as well as with equal fidelity, with the incidents of his private life. Sir Robert Peel's own Memoirs, on the other hand, will be peculiarly disappointing to those who were already satisfied of his political integrity. Beyond that point they seem to carry no conviction to leave unexplained much of the conduct which will, nevertheless, be acknowledged to be free of the faintest suspicion of dishonour. There is something, too, that seems very laboured and distasteful to himself in the efforts of this posthumous work, when his views had so largely altered, to vindicate the comparative illiberality of younger years. It calls to remembrance the happy reasoning of Martial 'Pinxisti Venerem, colis, Artemidore, Minervam— 87 ART. IV.-The Life of Charlotte Brontë. By MRS. GASkell. Smith, Elder, & Co., Cornhill. IT used to be thought the reviewers' duty and office to be caterers for the world of readers, to be leaders of taste, to direct public attention into certain channels, to recommend books, or to dissuade from them, to take the trouble and responsibility of a first perusal; and there was at least the theory that the public was a very docile pupil, who liked guidance, and waited for direction. But who has waited for the critic's dictum to read the life of Charlotte Brontë? Can we hope to be beforehand with the most remote subscriber to Mudie's or his own sluggish country library, so as to indoctrinate him with our views, before he has formed his own, of the book of the season-the one book that all the world has read and talked about-and what is much more, that all readers have, according to their capacity, thought over with some real effort to understand its problem, and learn its lesson? And what is this book which has awakened such general interest-what is the life which has struck the universal chord of feeling? It is the very quietest life that ever was lived through, if we are to make variety and action our estimate of living; and this still, uneventful, obscure existence, was lived by a plain, diminutive woman, poor, shy, and unattractive. The contrast between this outer life and the inner life which accompanied it, constitutes the interest of this remarkable biography. It supplies an illustration of the divine axiom that a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things that he possesseth. These words, in their fullest sense, apply to a nobler life and higher aims than are recorded here; but they must also apply to that gift of life which God gives to all his intelligent creatures-that glorious gift of being, sensation, and consciousness. Here is truly a life. Charlotte Brontë lived with a reality and clearness which throw busier careers into mist and shade; here was thought, feeling, passion, the more intense (though not the better, or the happier) for being confined in the narrowest range-in the sphere, as it would at first sight appear, least congenial with our intenser emotions. And we learn what small external aids are needed to develop this gift, to expand thought, to concentrate feeling, to intensify emotion: a narrow, ascetic, silent home, a few wild moors, an expanse of sky reflecting the season's changes, an occasional glimpse of the sea, one or two friends, a few rough neighbours, the roll and |