they have nevertheless become remarkable for their accumulated wealth. Thus it will be seen that all the tendencies of the Jewish race are conservative. Their bias is to religion, property, and natural aristocracy: and it should be the interest of statesmen that this bias of a great race should be encouraged, and their energies and creative powers enlisted in the cause of existing society. (From Life of Lord George Bentinck.)

The best Lives of Lord Beaconsfield are those by Froude (1890) and Hitchman (3rd ed. 1885); but neither is satisfactory. A volume of his Letters (1830-52) was edited in 1887 by Mr Ralph Disraeli. CHARLES WHIBLEY.

Frederick Denison Maurice (1805-72) was the son of a Unitarian minister, and was born at Normanston near Lowestoft, whence in 1814 the family removed to Frenchay near Bristol; and in 1823 he went up to Trinity College, Cambridge, thence migrating to Trinity Hall. His reputation at the university for scholarship stood high, but, being at this time a Dissenter, he left Cambridge in 1827 without taking a degree, and commenced a literary career in London. He wrote for the Westminster Review and other serials, and for a time edited the Athenæum, then recently started. His spirit had been profoundly stirred and influenced by Coleridge, and resolving to take orders in the Church of England, he in 1830 went to Oxford, where he took the degree of M.A., and was ordained a priest in 1834. In that year his novel, Eustace Conway, was published without attracting much notice. He became chaplain to Guy's Hospital in 1837; in 1840 he was made Professor of Literature at King's College, London; and there he was Professor of Theology from 1846 till 1853. He was chaplain of Lincoln's Inn from 1846 until 1860, when he accepted the incumbency of Vere Street Chapel, held by him until his election as Professor of Moral Philosophy at Cambridge in 1866. The publication in 1853 of his Theological Essays lost him the professorship of Theology in King's College. The atonement he declared to be not a terrible necessity but a glorious gospel, not of pardon for sin but deliverance from sin; while Christ's definition of life eternal-and so of eternal punishment-he maintained was opposed to the popular doctrine, which he regarded as a mixture of paganism and Christianity. Amongst the views set forth in this and other works were the doctrine that the 'fall of Adam' is not the centre of theology, but an incident in the early education of the race, important only as representing the weakness of man apart from Christ; that creeds, the Bible, the Church, are valuable just in so far as they set forth Christ the King as the object of the faith of man, but as substitutes for that faith are only mischievous. Of some fifty publications, the most important (in many cases originally delivered as sermons or lectures) were his Moral and Metaphysical Philosophy, Religions of the World, Prophets and Kings of the Old Testament, Patriarchs and Lawgivers of the Old

Testament, The Kingdom of Christ, The Doctrine of Sacrifice, Theological Essays, Lectures on the Ecclesiastical History of the First and Second Centuries, The Gospel of St John, The Conscience, and Social Morality. Maurice strenuously controverted Mansel's views on our knowledge of God, and denounced as false any political economy founded on selfishness and not on the Cross as the ruling power of the universe. He was the mainspring of the movement known as Christian Socialism, and the president of the society for promoting working-men's associations; and was also the founder and first principal of the WorkingMan's College, and the founder and the guiding spirit of the Queen's College for Women, in both of which he taught. Though his views were those that came to be called 'Broad Church,' and he

FREDERICK DENISON MAURICE. From the Portrait by Samuel Laurence in National Portrait Gallery.

had many friends or followers, who accepted his main positions, he vehemently repudiated the position of a party-leader. His influence extended throughout all parties in the Church and far beyond the Church, and he profoundly stirred and attracted men of the most various types. Charles Kingsley and Tom Hughes were disciples; J. S. Mill and Ruskin acknowledged his power. He rather stimulated to like aims and sympathies than inculcated a doctrine. And it was with some justice complained that his desire to avoid dogmatic definition made some of his positions hard to grasp, and that he was obscure if not confused in thought. His originality and suggestiveness are in his published writings injured by his too great copiousness; but his expositions, though they often seem too like sermons, are constantly marked by profound thoughts and eloquent appeals to heart and conscience.

A bibliography of Maurice's writings was published by G. J. Gray in 1885. His full name was John Frederick Denison Maurice. His Life, based mainly on his own letters, was written by his son, MajorGeneral Sir John Frederick Maurice, K.C. B. (2 vols. 1884).

John Stuart Mill,

the distinguished son of a distinguished father, was born in London 20th May 1806. His father, James Mill (see Vol. II. p. 757), was an intimate friend and follower of Jeremy Bentham, and his great aim in regard to the boy was to make him their successor. Writing to Bentham in 1812, when the boy was six years old, James Mill, in reply to an offer to be his guardian, remarked: Should I die, the thought that would pinch me most sorely would be leaving the poor boy's mind unmade.' James Mill goes on to say that he accepts the offer of Bentham so as to leave John 'a successor worthy of both of us.' Almost at the earliest dawn of intelligence in his son, James Mill began the process of making his mind. A firm believer in the doctrine of Helvetius that all the differences between men are due to education, the father lost no time in putting the doctrine into practice. In J. S. Mill's Autobiography we have a detailed record of the educational experiment. Mill states that he has no recollection when he began to learn Greek, but he was told that it was at the age of three. Latin he began to learn in his eighth year, by which time he had read a number of Greek prose authors, among them being Herodotus, Xenophon's Cyropædeia and Memorials of Socrates, Esop's Fables, some of the lives of the philosophers by Diogenes Laertius, part of Lucian, two speeches of Isocrates, and six dialogues of Plato. Three years later he read Sophocles, Euripides, Aristophanes, Demosthenes, Thucydides, and Aristotle's Rhetoric, which, under his father's supervision, he carefully analysed and tabulated. From his eighth to his twelfth year the boy had read Cæsar's Commentaries, much of Virgil, Horace, Sallust, Ovid's Metamorphosis, and a great deal of Cicero. In addition to ordinary arithmetic he had learned geometry and algebra; the higher mathematics he had to grapple with under difficulties, as his father could do little to help him in consequence of insufficient mastery of the subject. In English, especially in the sphere of history, his mind ranged over a wide area ; Hume, Robertson, and Gibbon he read, and in the history of the Netherlands he took great delight. Imaginative literature was not specially cultivated, but the boy was made familiar with the old favourites-Robinson Crusoe, The Arabian Nights, Don Quixote; Scott's and Campbell's poetry appealed to him, but Shakespeare and Spenser were sealed books. In his thirteenth year Mill was introduced to studies of a philosophic cast; in addition, he was employed by his father in reading the proofs of his History of India, an exercise to which he attributed considerable educational value. In 1819 he was introduced to political economy, upon which his father during their walks delivered lectures, which were reduced to writing by the youthful student. These memoranda served Mill in afteryears as notes for his work on political economy.

At this point was concluded the first part of young Mill's early training. He was now to come under new influences. In his fourteenth year he visited France and spent a year with General Sir Samuel Bentham, Jeremy Bentham's brother. During this period Mill learned French and acquired a taste for French manners and thought, which remained through life. Here, too, he began the study of botany. Chemistry in his earlier days had a fascination for him, but the passion died out through lack of facilities for indulging in experiments. In 1821 Mill returned to England and resumed his studies. Condillac occupied his attention, along with his father's Political Economy and the French Revolution. He also turned his thoughts to Roman law, and doubtless to help him in this branch of knowledge his father introduced him to Dumont's Traité de Législation, based on Bentham's writings. This book proved a turningpoint in his mental history; in his Autobiography he relates how, when he laid down the last volume of the Traité, he became a different being. The principle of utility gave unity to his conceptions, and he realised that he now had a creed, a doctrine, a philosophy, a religion, the inculcation of which could be made the principal outward purpose of a life. Other works of Bentham were duly mastered. He also studied Locke, Helvetius, Hartley, and his reading in philosophy was supplemented by Hume, Berkeley, Reid, Dugald Stewart, and Brown.

So far Mill's education had been mainly of a solitary nature. He now began to move in society, though of a somewhat exclusive sort; he made the acquaintance of George Grote and John and Charles Austin, enthusiastic Benthamites. He became associated with a larger circle by his connection with the Utilitarian and Speculative Societies, in which were a number of young men who afterwards became famous, like Roebuck, John Sterling, Charles Buller, Macaulay, Samuel Wilberforce, and others. In 1823 Mill's profes sional career was decided by his appointment to la clerkship in the India House, where he rose through successive promotions to be chief of the office at a salary of £2000 a year. He remained at the India House till the transfer of the Company's government to the Crown in 1858, when he was superannuated on a pension of £1500 a year. Mill's interest in things political and philosophical continued unabated. He became a frequent contributor to the Radical press and also to the Westminster Review, which was established by Bentham in 1823 as an organ of advanced views. He edited the London Review, which was afterwards incorporated with the Westminster, in which many of his noteworthy papers appeared. Mill threw himself eagerly into the political arena. As an indication of his mental standpoint at this period some of the articles contributed to the London and Westminster are of great value; his famous pair of essays on Bentham and Coleridge show plainly that Mill's mind was finding the Benthamite horizon

too narrow, and was yearning for an ampler outlook. As a philosophy of life he found Benthamism gravely defective, and he shocked his own immediate Utilitarian circle by a sympathetic exposition of the Idealism of Coleridge. Mill's dissatisfaction with the narrowness and hardness of the Utilitarian creed was intensified by a severe mental crisis through which he passed in the autumn of 1826, probably brought on by excessive intellectual application. The characteristic of the crisis was deadness of feeling, largely due, Mill thought, to exclusive devotion to the habit of analysis inculcated by the Utilitarian philosophy. He found relief in the poetry of Wordsworth. Out of this experience grew two convictions somewhat alien to the creed of his father and Bentham—namely, that while happiness is the test of the results of conduct and the end of life, yet it should not be pursued as the direct end but as an ideal end; aiming at something else, happiness is found by the way. The other conviction was that the Utilitarians took too narrow a view of education; they considered the individual too exclusively as an active reforming being, as mainly devoted to the destruction of error and the propagation of truth-a kind of intellectual machine. Mill now saw that self-culture, the culture of the emotional and passive susceptibilities, were a necessary part of education. His attitude as revealed in the essays on Bentham and Coleridge created considerable distrust among his old friends, especially the Grotes; but he never abandoned the fundamental tenets of the Utilitarian creed. Under the influence of men like Maurice, Sterling, and others who had come under the sway of Coleridge, he gave to Utilitarianism a wider meaning, so as to make it include individual culture as well as intellectual propagandism and revolutionary zeal.

That Mill still remained true to his early faith was made evident when his Logic appeared in 1843. It had long been his opinion that the doctrine of necessary truths and intuitions was largely responsible for the strong hold which erroneous beliefs and hurtful institutions have upon society. So long as certain beliefs can be traced back to necessary truths, so long, he said, is it impossible to overthrow these beliefs, and so long will reformers spend their strength in vain in attacking institutions which draw their justification from these beliefs. Mill's aim in the Logic is to trace all thought and feeling to experience. The philosophy upon which it rests is mainly that of James Mill improved and strengthened, but in the main the principle of Association is used as the master-key with which to open the psychologic❘ problems of belief and reasoning. The book attained extraordinary popularity; and those who dissented most widely from its views were bound to confess that Mill's work, especially the section dealing with Induction, was the product of a master mind. The Logic was followed in 1848 by The Principles of Political Economy. Here, too,

Mill breaks away from his intellectual ancestors in some important particulars. The Political Economy of James Mill and Ricardo rested on the idea of absolute freedom. The laws of wealth, said they, are as fixed and inflexible as the law of gravitation. In his work J. S. Mill makes a distinction between the laws of production and distribution. The former he holds to be regulated by causes beyond legislative control; but the latter, he thinks, may be modified by institutions and governmental action. At this point Mill touches hands with Socialism, which his predecessors abhorred. He hoped to do in the nineteenth century for political economy what Adam Smith did for it in the eighteenth century; but instead of placing the science on an immovable basis, he succeeded in raising questions of such momentous import that since his time economic science has been in a state of chaos.

In 1851 a great emotional influence came into Mill's life. In that year he married Mrs Taylor, a lady with whom, during her husband's lifetime, he had been on terms of intimacy which met with the strong disapproval of his father and his most intimate friends. The tone of eulogy in which Mill spoke and wrote of his wife completely baffled his associates. Undoubtedly clever, Mrs Taylor was not a woman of transcendent abilities. Carlyle, when asked about her, said: 'She was a woman with a deal of unwise intellect; she was always wanting to know how and why and what for.' It would almost seem as if Mill's emotional life, so long repressed by his father and starved by a cast-iron creed, had at this epoch in his life burst its bonds and like a torrent flowed over without discriminating check. His extraordinary devotion to his wife is still to be seen in the inscription he caused to be placed on her grave at Avignon, where she died in 1858.

The years 1858 to 1865 were crowded with literary work. In that period were produced the Liberty, the essay on Utilitarianism, the book on Representative Government, and the Examination of Sir William Hamilton's Philosophy and other smaller productions, including a volume of papers on Comte and Positivism. In the book on Liberty, which is one of the best of his writings, Mill deals with a task which has baffled the intellect of all political thinkers-namely, the task of reconciling the freedom of the individual with the restraints rendered necessary by the needs of the social order. In society, restraints and compulsion there must be. What are their justification, and how far are they to be allowed to interfere with the liberty of the individual? These aspects of a many-sided problem are handled with a courage, lucidity, and grasp which stamped the book as epoch-making in the sphere of political philosophy.

The book on Representative Government raises anew questions which the old Radicals believed they had settled for ever. It was a favourite dogma of Bentham and James Mill that the evils of society had their origin in ignorance and mis

government; hence their fervour in the cause of education and in the attempt to form a scientific theory of government. James Mill's famous essay on Government, which Macaulay attacked so furiously, rested on the assumption that the best form of government was one in which political power was in the hands, not of a monarch or an aristocratic minority, but of a democratic majority. In a word, when power is in the hands of the Community at large the problem will be solved, for according to Bentham and his school the Community cannot have an interest opposite to its own interest; thereby it was thought government would be no longer diverted from its proper end-the greatest happiness of the greatest number- by the

included elements which Bentham would have repudiated. He was on the right lines, but he had the misfortune to theorise before the new mass of information regarding man's origin and development had crystallised round the evolution theory; consequently, all that is best in the old Utilitarianism has now been incorporated along with his speculations in a new and more enduring framework.

In 1861 Mill turned his attention again to philo

well as of a minority. His book is a careful discussion of the fundamental problems of Government, in which, in his usual fair-minded way, he faces difficulties without shrinking, and though fully in sympathy with democracy, courageously points out its inherent defects and dangers.

In his essay on Bentham, Mill gave indication of dissatisfaction with the narrow interpretation which the early Utilitarians gave of the emotional side of life. Happiness was conceived by Bentham in rather a crude fashion, the happiness associated with the aesthetic feelings being practically ignored. It was clear that in dealing with Utilitarianism Mill would come into conflict with the crude views of his predecessors. In his Utilitarianism, published in 1861, Mill, while holding fast by the greatest happiness theory of Bentham, endeavoured to give an ideal interpretation of happiness, which

sophy. In his Logic he had set himself to construct a science of reasoning on the lines of the Experience philosophy, but in that book root problems were not dealt with exhaustively. Now he seized the opportunity of travelling over the entire philosophic field by reviewing the Philosophy of Sir William Hamilton. What was intended to be an article swelled into a volume, and was published in 1865. Mill's startingpoint is experience. The mind, he holds, has no original intuitions, is not originally supplied with necessary forms of thought. All we know is derived

from experience. Experience of what? The answer to that determines the philosophic status of a thinker. The two fundamental facts of knowledge are Matter and Mind. What does experience tell us of Matter? In the course of his criticism of Hamilton, Mill reaches the conclusion that Matter can only be defined as the Permanent Possibility of Sensation a definition which immediately links the Experience philosophy with Berkeleyan Idealism. And what of Mind? Mind, we are told, may be resolved into a series of feelings with a background of possibilities of feelings, of expectations and recollections. Mill, with his characteristic frankness, is aware of the difficulty of his theory. The supreme difficulty is to understand how with such a theory knowledge itself is possible. Grant that what we know of a material world is simply a series of scattered phenomena. Postulate

a unifying mind working according to definite laws, and there is a possibility of coherent knowledge. But deny unifying power to Mind, reduce Mind to a series of phenomena, and the question arises how out of the two forms of phenomenamaterial and mental-does a Cosmos rather than a chaos emerge? Mill's psychological theory determines his entire system of thought. If, according to it, we can know nothing of the external world beyond particular aspects of matter, and nothing of mind beyond particular aspects of feeling, obviously all our knowledge is limited to experience. Knowledge resolves itself into a recognition of particulars, and logic becomes the science of thought, whereby by means of induction and deduction the mind lays hold of the order which obtains among the various aspects of phenomena. In the last analysis, Mill's conception of the world is that of a collection of facts grasped by the mind by means of the law of Association, facts existing by no necessity but resting so far as we know on the arbitrary and the accidental.

Insight into Mill's philosophy gives the clue to the essays on Religion which, published after his death, created widespread surprise. He was bound to admit that the present system of things was not held together by any inherent necessity. The notion of necessity, he said, was the product of the law of Association, which led us to think that facts which had been always associated in our experience would always be associated. Thus in another planet things might be so arranged that two and two make five; even in this planet a supernatural revelation with accompanying miracles might well take place. We have no right beforehand to lay down the conditions of the Cosmos; all we have to do is to study phenomena as they present themselves and tabulate the results for our guidance. Thus it comes about that the Experience philosophy of Mill, with its rational induction, leads ultimately, as Taine put it, to an abyss of chance, an abyss of ignorance.'

Mill, who had been living at Avignon pursuing his philosophical labours, was suddenly called to another and very different sphere. He was in 1865 invited to become Liberal candidate for Westminster. He laid down certain unique conditions. He refused to canvass or allow any one to canvass for him. He announced that if elected he could not attend to local interests. He refused to answer any question as to his religious views, and he declared himself to be an advocate of woman's suffrage. Mill was elected by a majority of some hundreds over his Conservative opponent; and in the House of Commons he showed himself very energetic. He was always to be found in the ranks of the progressivists, and with his usual courage never shrank from identifying himself with the unpopular cause. He never, however, was quite at home in the House. He was no orator. He could

speak well, but his oratory was too intellectual for a popular assembly; and he never was able, had he been inclined, to sink the philosopher in the politician. Mr Gladstone has left on record his belief that Mill gave a certain dignity to the House by the singular moral elevation of his character-a characteristic which led the great Liberal statesman to call him the Saint of Rationalism. Mill did not long enjoy his parliamentary honours. At the general election in 1868 he was defeated by the Conservative candidate, Mr W. H. Smith (who ultimately became leader of the Conservative party), and retired to his philosophic retreat at Avignon. The defeat was attributed to the fact that Mill sent a subscription to the election expenses of Mr Charles Bradlaugh, the well-known anti-Christian writer and lecturer. Mill occupied his closing years with congenial pursuits. He was elected Lord Rector of St Andrews University, and delivered a Rectorial address on education. A

friend said to him how good it was. Mill replied that it ought to be, for he had thought about the subject all his life. He issued a new edition of his father's Analysis of the Human Mind, and busied himself with his Autobiography, which was published after his death. Suddenly his work was brought to an end. Warnings of failing strength were not wanting; but though he was in his sixtyseventh year, there was nothing to cause anxiety. Indeed, three days before his death he walked fifteen miles on a botanical excursion. Attacked by a local endemic disease, he succumbed on 8th May 1873, and was buried at Avignon. Whatever may be the ultimate fate of his speculations, Mill's name and personality will ever bulk largely in the history of nineteenth-century thought.

The Stationary State.

I cannot regard the stationary state of capital and wealth with the unaffected aversion so generally manifested towards it by political economists of the old school. I am inclined to believe that it would be, on the whole, a very considerable improvement on our present condition. I confess I am not charmed with the ideal of life held out by those who think that the normal state of human beings is that of struggling to get on; that the trampling, crushing, elbowing, and treading on each other's heels, which form the existing type of social life, are the most desirable lot of human kind, or anything but the disagreeable symptoms of one of the phases of industrial progress. It may be a necessary stage in the progress of civilisation, and those European nations which have hitherto been so fortunate as to be preserved from it may yet have it to undergo. It is an incident of growth, not a mark of decline, for it is not necessarily destructive of the higher aspirations and the heroic virtues; as America, in her great civil war, has proved to the world, both by her conduct as a people and by numerous splendid individual examples, and as England, it is to be hoped, would also prove on an equally trying and exciting occasion. But it is not a kind of social perfection which philanthropists to come will feel any very eager desire to assist in realising. Most fitting, indeed, it is that while riches are power,