NOTES AND CORRESPONDENCE.

“The Parsonage, Werrington, Peterborough, April 7, 1875.

“My dear Sir,—Your lady correspondent brings out in her own experience that sound Christian truth, of which the condemnable doctrines of ‘substitution’ and ‘vicarious righteousness’ are but the perversions. Her experience shows how true it is that one man may so live and suffer that others shall be morally the better for his life and suffering.

“Such a man’s righteousness is ‘imputed’ because really imparted 13 to those who have faith in him.

“Of Felix Neff I know less than I ought, but if his ministry tended to bring more sweetness and light into your correspondent’s life, surely his influence in her mind is moral and healthful.

“I am very faithfully yours,
“Edward Z. Lyttel.

“John Ruskin, Esq.”

[142]

I transgress the laws of courtesy, in printing, without asking the writer’s permission, part of a letter which follows: but my correspondent is not, as far as I know him, a man who shrinks from publicity, or who would write in a private letter anything on general subjects which he would be unwilling openly to maintain; while the letter itself is so monumental as a type of the condition to which the modern average literary mind has been reduced, in its reading of authoritative classical authors, and touches so precisely on points which it happens to be my immediate business to set at rest in the minds of many of my readers, that I cannot but attribute to the Third Fors the direct inspiration of the epistle—and must leave on her hands what blame may be attached to its publication. I had been expressing some surprise to my correspondent (an acquaintance of long standing) at his usually bright and complacent temper; and making some enquiry about his views respecting modern usury, knowing him to have read, at least for literary purposes, large portions of the Old Testament. He replies,—

“I am sure I would not be wiser if I were ‘more uncomfortable’ in my mind; I am perfectly sure, if I can ever do good to any mortal, it will be by calm working, patient thinking, not by running, or raging, or weeping, or wailing. But for this humour, which I fancy I caught from Shakespeare and Goethe, the sorrow of the world would drive me mad.

“You ask what I think ‘the Psalmist’ means by ‘usury.’ I find from Cruden that usury is mentioned only in the fifteenth Psalm. That is a notable and most beautiful lyric, quite sufficient to demonstrate the superiority, in spirituality and morality, of the Hebrew religion to anything Greek. But the bit about usury is pure nonsense—the only bit of nonsense in the piece. Nonsense, because the singer has no notion whatever of the employment of money for the common benefit [143]of lender and borrower. As the Hebrew monarchy was politically a total and disastrous failure, I should not expect any opinion worth listening to from a psalmist, touching directly or indirectly on the organisation of industry. Jesus Christ and Matthew the publican lived in a time of extended intercourse and some commerce; accordingly, in Matthew xxv., verse 27, you have a perfect statement of the truth about usury: ‘Thou oughtest to have put my money to the exchangers, and at my coming I should have received mine own with usury.’ Ricardo, with all Lombard Street to help him, could not improve upon that. A legitimate, useful, profitable use of money is to accommodate strangers who come with money that will not circulate in the country. The exchanger gives them current money; they pay a consideration for the convenience; and out of this comes the legitimate profit to be divided between lender and borrower. The rule which applies to one fruitful use of money will apply to a thousand, and, between wise lending and honest borrowing, swamp and forest become field and garden, and mountains wave with corn. Some professor or other had written what seemed outrageous rubbish; you confuted or thrust aside, in an early Fors, that rubbish; but against legitimate interest, usury, call it what you like, I have never heard any argument. Mr. Sillar’s tracts I have never seen,—he does not advertise, and I have not the second sight.

“My view of the grievous abuses in the publishing and bookselling trades has not altered. But, since writing you first on the subject, I have had careful conversations with publishers, and have constantly pondered the matter; and though I do not see my way to any complete reform, I cannot entertain hope from your methods.

“I am tired, being still very weak. It would only bother you if I went on. Nothing you have ever written has, I think, enabled me to get so near comprehending you as your picture [144]of yourself learning to read and write in last Fors. You can see an individual concrete fact better than any man of the generation; but an invisible fact, an abstraction, an average, you have, I fancy, been as incapable of seeing as of seeing through a stone wall. Political Economy is the science of social averages.

“Ever affectionately and faithfully yours.

“P.S. (Sunday morning). Some fancy has been haunting me in the night of its being presumptuous, or your thinking it presumptuous, in me to say that David, or whoever wrote the fifteenth Psalm, spoke, on the subject of interest, pure nonsense. After carefully going over the matter again, I believe that I am accurately correct. Not knowing what lending and borrowing, as a normal industrial transaction, or trading transaction, was, the Psalmist spoke in vague ethical terms, meaning ‘you should be friendly to your neighbour’; just as a lady economist of to-day might shriek against the pawn-shop, which, with all its defects, had, in capacity of Poor Man’s Bank, saved many a child, or woman, or man, from sheer starvation. Not understanding the matter, the Psalmist could not distinguish between use and abuse, and so talked nonsense. It is exquisitely interesting to me to observe that Christ hits the Psalmist exactly on the point where he goes wrong. Τὸ ἀργύριον ἀυτοῦ οὐκ ἔδωκεν ἐπὶ τόκῳ, says the Psalmist; Πονηρὲ δοῦλε .… ἔδει σε οὖν βαλεῖν τὸ ἀργύριόν μου τοῖς τραπαζίταις, καὶ ἐλθὼν ἐγὼ ἐκομισάμην ἂν τὸ ἐμὸν συν τόκῳ, says Christ. The use of the same word in the Septuagint (the only Old Testament circulating in Palestine in Christ’s time) and in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, to denote in the one case what no good man would take, in the other, what it was a flagrant dereliction of duty not to secure, is most precious as illustrating the simple common sense with which Christ used the old Scriptures, and [145]the infinite falsity of the modern doctrine of infallibility, whether of church, book, or man. One of those transcendencies of rightness which I find in Fors (amid things about Marmontel and Drury Lane, and Darwin and Huxley, worthy only of a Psalmist or pretty economist of fifteen) was your idea of policemen-bishops. I always agree also with what you say about the entirely obsolete and useless bishops at £5000 a-year.… But what I was going to say is, that you ought to ask your bishop, or the whole bench of them, to find a place, in their cart-loads of sermons, for one on ‘usury,’14 as condemned by the Psalmist and enjoined by Christ. Compare Luke xix., ver. 23. The only sound basis of banking is the fruitful, industrial use of money. I by no means maintain that the present banking system of Europe is safe and sound.”

I submitted the proof of this Fors to my correspondent, and think it due to him and to my readers to print, with the above letter, also the following portions of that which he sent in gentle reply. So far as I have misconceived or misrepresented him, he knows me to be sorry. For the rest, our misconceptions of each other are of no moment: the misconception, by either, of the nature of profit by the loan of money, or tools, is of moment to every one over whom we have influence; we neither of us have any business to be wrong in that matter; and there are few on which it is more immediately every man’s business to be right.

“Remonstrance were absurd, where misconception is so total as yours. My infidelity is simply that I worship Christ, thanking every one who gives me any glimpse that enables me to get nearer Christ’s meaning. In this light, what you say of a [146]hidden sense or drift in the parables interests me profoundly; but the more I think of the question of interest, the more I feel persuaded that Christ distinguished the use from the abuse. Tradition, almost certainly authentic, imputes to Him the saying γίνεσθε τραπεζιται δόκιμοι (see M. Arnold’s article in March Contemporary), and I don’t see how there can be honourable bankers,—men, living honourably by banking,—if all taking of interest is wrong. You speak of my ‘supreme confidence’ in my own opinions. I absolutely have confidence only in the resolution to keep my eyes open for light and, if I can help it, not to be to-day exactly where I was yesterday. I have not only read, but lived in, (as a very atmosphere) the works of men whom you say I went to because somebody said it was fine to do so. They have taught me some comprehensiveness, some tolerance, some moderation in judging even the mob. They have taught me to consume my own smoke, and it is this consumption of my own smoke which you seem to have mistaken for confidence in my opinions. Which prophet, from Moses to Carlyle, would not you confess to have been sometimes in the wrong? I said that I worship Christ. In Him I realize, so far as I can realize, God. Therefore I speak not of Him. But the very key-stone of any arch of notions in my mind is that inspiration is one of the mightiest and most blessed of forces, one of the most real of facts, but that infallibility is the error of errors. From no prophet, from no book, do I take what I please and leave what I please; but, applying all the lights I have, I learn from each as wisely as, with my powers and my lights, is possible for me.

“Affectionately yours.”

I have received, “with the respects of the author,” a pamphlet on the Crystal Palace; which tells me, in its first sentence, that the Crystal Palace is a subject which every cultivated Englishman [147]has at heart; in its second, that the Crystal Palace is a household word, and is the loftiest moral triumph of the world; and in its third, that the Palace is declining, it is said,—verging towards decay. I have not heard anything for a long time which has more pleased me; and beg to assure the author of the pamphlet in question that I never get up at Herne Hill after a windy night without looking anxiously towards Norwood in the hope that ‘the loftiest moral triumph of the world’ may have been blown away.

I find the following lovely little scene translated into French from the Dutch, (M. J. Rigeveld, Amsterdam, C. L. Brinkman, 1875,) in a valuable little periodical for ladies, ‘l’Espérance,’ of Geneva, in which the entirely good purpose of the editor will, I doubt not, do wide service, in spite of her adoption of the popular error of the desirability of feminine independence.

“A PROPOS D’UNE PAIRE DE GANTS.

“ ‘Qu’y a-t-il, Elise?’ dit Madame, en se tournant du côté d’une fenêtre ouverte, où elle entend quelque bruit. ‘Oh! moins que rien, maman!’ répond sa fille aînée, en train de faire la toilette des cadets, pour la promenade et le concert. ‘Ce que c’est, maman?’ crie un des petits garçons, ‘c’est que Lolotte ne veut pas mettre des gants.’ ‘Elle dit qu’elle a assez chaud sans cela,’ reprend un autre, ‘et qu’elle ne trouve pas même joli d’avoir des gants.’ Et chacun de rire. Un des rapporteurs continue: ‘Elise veut qu’elle le fasse par convenance; mais Lolotte prétend que la peau humaine est plus convenable qu’une peau de rat.’ Cette boutade excite de nouveau l’hilarité de la compagnie. ‘Quelle idée, Lolotte,’ dit son père d’un ton enjoué: ‘montre-toi donc!’

“Apparemment Lolotte n’est pas d’humeur à obéir; mais les [148]garçons ne lui laissent pas le choix et la poussent en avant. La voilà donc, notre héroïne. C’est une fillette d’environ quatorze ans, dont les yeux pétillent d’esprit et de vie; on voit qu’elle aime à user largement de la liberté que lui laisse encore son âge, pour dire son opinion sur tout ce qui lui passe par la tête sans conséquence aucune. Mais bien qu’elle soit forte dans son opinion anti-gantière, l’enfant est tant soit peu confuse, et ne paraît pas portée à défendre sa cause en présence d’un étranger. ‘Quoi donc,’ lui dit son père, en la prenant par la taille, ‘tu ne veux pas porter des gants, parce qu’ils sont faits de peaux de rats! Je ne te croyais pas si folle. Le rat est morte et oublié depuis longtemps, et sa peau est glacée.’—‘Non, papa, ce n’est pas ça.’—‘Qu’est-ce donc, mon enfant? Tu est trop grande fille pour ces manières sans façon. Ne veux-tu pas être une demoiselle comme il faut?’ ‘Et ces petites mains qui touchent si bien du piano,’ reprend le visiteur, désireux de faire oublier la gêne que cause sa présence, par un mot gracieux. ‘Ne veux-tu pas plutôt renoncer à la musique, et devenir sarcleuse?’ lui demande son père.—‘Non, papa, point du tout. Je ne puis pas dire au juste ma pensée.…’ Et elle se dégagea doucement de ses bras; et en se sauvant, grommela: ‘Mort aux gants, et vive la civilisation!’ On rit encore un peu de l’enfant bizarre; puis on parle d’autres choses, et l’on se prépare pour la promenade. Lolotte a mis les gants en question, ‘pour plaire à maman,’ et personne ne s’en occupe plus.

“Mais l’étranger avait saisi au passage sa dernière phrase, qui sans cesse, lui revenait à l’esprit. Se reprochait-il devant cette enfant naïve sa complicité à l’interprétation futile que son hôte avait donné de la civilisation? Tant est, que pendant le cours de la soirée, se trouvant un moment en tête-à-tête avec Lolotte, il revint à l’histoire des gants. Il tâcha de réparer sa gaucherie et fit si bien, qu’il gagna la confiance de la petite. ‘Sans doute [149]j’en conviens,’ dit-il, ‘il faut plus pour être civilisé que de porter des gants, mais il faut se soumettre à certaines convenances que les gens comme il faut.…’ ‘C’est ça, Monsieur,’ dit-elle, en lui coupant la parole, ‘quelle est donc la chance des gens qui voudraient se civiliser, mais qui n’ont pas d’argent pour acheter des gants?’ C’était-là sa peine. ‘Chère enfant!’ dit-il tout bas. Et l’homme, si éloquent d’ordinaire, pressa la petite main sous le gant obligatoire, parce que pour le moment les paroles lui manquaient pour répondre.… Est-ce étonnant que, malgré lui, plus tard en s’occupant de la question sociale, il pensa souvent à cette jeune fille?

“Et vous, lecteurs, que pensez-vous d’elle et de sa question gantière? Vous paraît-elle un enfantillage, ou bien la considerez-vous tout bonnement comme une exagération? Vous attachez-vous à la surface, ou bien y cherchez-vous un sens plus profond, comme l’ami visiteur? Ne croyez-vous pas aussi que dans ce temps de ‘besoins multipliés,’ un des plus grands services que les classes supérieures puissent rendre au peuple, serait de faire distinction entre tous ces besoins et de prêcher d’exemple?”

This bit of letter must find room—bearing as it does on last Fors’ subject:—

“I was asking a girl this morning if she still took her long walks; and she said she was as fond of them as ever, but that they could only walk in the town now—the field or country walks were not safe for ladies alone. Indeed, I fancy the girls lose all care for, or knowledge of the spring or summer—except as they bring new fashions into the shop windows, not fresh flowers any more here into the fields. It is pitiable to live in a place like this—even worse than in ——. For here the process of spoiling country is going on under one’s eyes;—in —— it was done long ago. And just now, when the feeling of spring is upon one, it is hard [150]to have the sky darkened, and the air poisoned. But I am wasting time in useless grumbling. Only listen to this:—after all our sacrifices, and with all our money and civilization——I can’t tell you now; it must wait.”—[Very well; but don’t keep it waiting longer than you need.]

I have had some good help about bees’ tongues from a young correspondent at Merrow Grange, Guildford, and a very clear drawing, to which the subjoined piece of his last letter refers; but I must not lose myself in microscopic questions just now:—

“The author of ‘The Microscope’ keeps to the old idea of bees sucking honey and not ‘licking it up,’ for he says, ‘The proboscis, being cylindrical, extracts the juice of the flower in a somewhat similar way to that of the butterfly.’ And of the tongue he says, ‘If a bee is attentively observed as it settles upon a flower, the activity and promptitude with which it uses the apparatus is truly surprising; it lengthens the tongue, applies it to the bottom of the petals, then shortens it, bending and turning it in all directions, for the purpose of exploring the interior and removing the pollen, which it packs in the pockets in its hind legs, (by, he supposes, the two shorter feelers,) and forms the chief food for the working-bees.’ He says that when the waxen walls of the cells are completed, they are strengthened by a varnish collected from the buds of the poplar and other trees, which they smear over the cells by the aid of the wonderful apparatus. That part of the proboscis that looks something like a human head, he says, ‘can be considerably enlarged … and thus made to contain a larger quantity of the collected juice of the flowers; at the same time it is in this cavity that the nectar is transformed into pure honey by some peculiar chemical process.’ ” [151]

Note on page 145.—My correspondent need not be at a loss for sermons on usury. When the Christian Church was living, there was no lack of such. Here are two specimens of their tenor, furnished me by one of Mr. Sillar’s pamphlets:—