language. The intellectual athlete has cleared his mind and style by patient exercise, and now deals his blows with the firm incisiveness of trained maturity.

Before long the advocate of design has to face the rival, or partially rival, theory of natural selection. Dr. Mozley, I need hardly say, does cordial justice to Dr. Darwin's power. 'It is not Dr. Darwin's storehouse of facts chiefly, enormous as that is—it is his searching and elaborate power of reasoning which he applies to facts-which constitutes his greatness as a naturalist.' But he allows himself to dispute some of the conclusions drawn from his theories. After having pointed out that, whatever be the elements of the physical world, they must have been such as to contain in posse the wonderful and varied whole which is before us, he endeavours, with something of an apology, to fasten on Dr. Darwin the belief in an inconceivably wise Creator.

He (Dr. Darwin) admits that the first life-germ was a creation; and if there is design in his first organism, that primary design must be credited with the whole of the final issue. It is impossible to suppose that the Creator of the rudimental germ which was to produce as its issue this existing world could after myriads of years awake out of sleep, and be astonished at the actual result of His own creationseed :—that it was so much more than he had expected; to conceive this would be to suppose not even the Supreme Being of philosophy, but the idol of the pagan; it would be to imagine a Deity such as that which Elijah mocked at, a Deity like the Zeus of Homer, who could not hear the grievance of Achilles because he had gone to sup with the Ethiopians. But if we cannot suppose a God who is genuinely surprised at His own universe, and startled at the sound which He himself hath made, then, if Mr. Darwin supposes one true original creative act, the universal result must be included in that act. If design has once operated in rerum natura, how can it stop operating, and undesigned formation succeed it? It cannot; and intention in Nature having once existed, the test of the amount of that intention is not the commencement but the end; not the first low organism, but the climax and consummation of the whole. (ii. 411-12.)

Those who reflect on the processes of production and reproduction have before now observed that, on the materialistic theory of the physical world, the monad must be even a more astonishing work of art than a man. If unassisted monads caused the whole of animate and inanimate nature, they must have been so constituted as to be capable of causing it; and when we try to think what the constitution must have been which involved such a capacity, we find it must have been something more wonderful than any known work of nature. The ultimate particles of which the earth and its inhabitants are composed, and out of which alone (it seems) they have arisen, must have contained within themselves a mechanism of affinity and development which enabled them not merely to knock about and jostle and stick to each other, but to combine into a variety of forms not only symmetrical and active, but possessed of the astonishing power of continual reproduction, under those elastic laws of similarity and variety out of which growth and life and animal and spiritual action

have evolved themselves. This mechanism, if we could possibly arrive at a conception of it, must be as much more wonderful than the structure of man, as it would be easier to construct a cuckoo clock than to construct a number of atoms which, being shaken long enough in a large enough bag, would eventually, in virtue of nothing but their own inherent organisation, combine into that shape. We know that man is, in fact, able to manufacture cuckoo clocks; but the imagination of Babbage himself would quail before the idea of manufacturing particles which would combine into cuckoo clocks capable of spontaneously producing not only other cuckoo clocks like themselves, but, if subjected to the sifting influence of a struggle for existence, cuckoo clocks upon cuckoo clocks of more and more artificial construction, with ropes of a more permanent texture, cog-wheels of a finer manufacture, and continually improving contrivances for keeping the cog-wheels oiled and making the oil which was necessary for that purpose. If we add to this that the cuckoo clocks are gradually to attain the power of reflecting on their own going and of correcting themselves when they find themselves wrong, we shall begin to appreciate the heavy strain which the materialist places on his original monad. If the structure of man is primâ facie suggestive of contrivance, surely the imaginary monad much more clamorously rejects any other explanation; and, indeed, almost presents a fresh difficulty from the incredible amount of inventiveness which it demands.

The thought is a familiar one; but Dr. Mozley approaches it from above instead of from below, and, whether the argument is conclusive or not, his statement of it is a specimen of that vigorous enforcement of which he was always master, and of the simplicity of style which he finally attained.

A word in conclusion on one aspect of his works. The compositions which I have reviewed are mostly what they are called on the title-page-essays: attempts of the author to stretch his limbs and test his strength before fairly grappling with the moral, philosophical, and theological problems to which at last he applied himself in earnest. But I wish to notice one pervading strain of thought which, as it appears in his first works, serves to give depth, and force, and life, and richness, and purpose to his latest. He touches a great variety of subjects, but that which is constantly colouring his narratives, directing his philosophy, and bursting out in a kind of stern poetry, is the position of moral goodness in the world. He inherited this from his teachers. In the earlier part of this century the Calvinistic theology was one of feeling and dogma almost suspicious of the sounds of duty and desert-the High Churchman was careful about duties but jealous of enthusiasm-while a literary world and the clergy who belonged to it, maintaining in a tone of apology the compatibility of reason and religion, were apt to enlarge on the

supreme authority and dignity of the intellect. The school of which Newman, Puзey, and Keble were the acknowledged heads, if it did nothing else, taught unflinchingly and continually a religion of the heart and will, of the thoughts and emotions, of the passions and conduct, to which everything else was accessory or subordinate. None could accuse them of being blind to the beauty of poetry, the cogency of reason, the value of divine truth, the majesty of the divine dispensations; but one of their peculiarities was, that before beauty, before knowledge, before power, before self-satisfaction, they placed the simple-hearted and determined purification of the will and affections. This unflinching reference to true-heartedness as an avenue to all that Christians hope for, is constantly breaking forth in these earlier works of Dr. Mozley, and in my selection of extracts I see that I have, almost unconsciously, or rather unavoidably, illustrated it. But it is in some of his later works that his fervent sense of this supremacy is most adequately expressed. In force of language, fertility of illustration, and vividness of conception, they are scarcely superior to what is now published. In maturity of style and balance of thought they And in this they are remarkable, that while the author does not shrink from employing the full force of his intellect on the various great questions which our days have brought forth, he most rises above himself when he most directly asserts the inherent and illimitable authority of the central truth of morality, tears all disguise from its counterfeits, and casts the human heart naked at the feet of its Judge.

are.

BLACHFORD.

THE INDIAN SERVICES.

AMONG the many causes which have combined to bring about the existing difficulties of Indian finance, not the least important is the great and rapid increase of the charges which have to be paid in England for liabilities incurred in India. Among these are included the pensions of the retired English officials, which amount to about two millions sterling, divided in nearly equal parts between the civil and military services. This is the item of Indian expenditure which appears to excite the particular scorn of Mr. Bright, whenever he has occasion to speak on Indian affairs, and, from the tone he is wont to adopt on this head, one might suppose that the rate of Indian pensions was exceptionally liberal, not to say extravagant; indeed, that there is something discreditable to the Government which pays the pensions, as well as to the recipients, in the circumstance that any pensions should be paid at all. It may be as well therefore to explain at the outset, what is certainly not generally understood, even by persons otherwise well-informed on Indian subjects, that the rate of Indian pensions is not only absolutely but relatively exceptionally low. It will hardly be contended that the English public service is extravagantly remunerated, if regard be had to the incomes earned by the moderately successful among the professional classes; but the English rates of pension are much higher than the Indian. The clerk in an English public office who spends his life in the performance of routine clerical duties, living comfortably at home all the time, retires on a larger pension than the most successful Indian official in any capacity. The highest Indian pension-if we exclude the case of the judges of the High Courts-is that paid to the covenanted civil servant, who is nominally entitled to a thousand pounds a year on retirement; but only nominally, for a considerable portion of this sum is contributed by the annuitant himself, by the deduction of a percentage from his salary during the whole period of service. This deduction is seldom less than 400l. out of the total 1,000l., and is often much more; in fact, the more successful the civil servant, and therefore presumably the more deserving, the larger will be his own contribution, and the smaller the virtual pension paid by the Government; in the case of those who succeed to the highest

offices, as the seats in council or the governorships of provinces, it will be found that the effective pension realised is usually not more than about 200l. a year, it may even be still less. In every other branch of the Indian service, except the army, the maximum pension is limited to 5,000 rupees a year, which at the present rate of exchange represents less than 400l. It will be seen from this statement how far Mr. Bright's sneers are justified by the facts. Indian pensions are not only absolutely moderate, considered with reference to the duties performed by the annuitants: this form of their remuneration is on a lower scale than obtains in any other public service. While the head of a public department at home will usually be able to retire on 800l. or 900l. a year, often on a good deal more, the chief engineer of an Indian railway, or the head of the education department of a province, can get about 4007. at most. The governor of a colony is entitled to retire on 1,500l. a year; the governor of an Indian province, whose duties are far more. onerous and important, will seldom receive more than from 200l. to 3001. Further, while the widows and orphans of officers in the British army receive pensions from the State, no similar provision is made for the families of Indian officers, which, so far as the State is concerned, may be left entirely destitute. So much as regards the facts of the case. No doubt, to a man living at home at his ease on ten or twenty thousand a year, with nothing to do except to run down his absent fellow countrymen at intervals during his leisure, the desire to have a pension of any sort may seem a very contemptible thing; still, even the retired Indian official must live, if he survives the period of his active service, and he could not well be expected to live on less than he now gets. Whatever reforms, therefore, the Indian public service may be destined to undergo in the future, a reduction of the pension rates is not one of the practicable modes of relief. Yet nevertheless the present aspect of the case is such as may well cause anxiety to those who consider the matter from the point of view either of the services or the State. This million a year for pensions on the civil list-I leave out of consideration the military charges of the same kind, as the subject is too large to be dealt with here is a heavy dead weight on the Indian finances, especially as it has to be paid in gold out of depreciated silver, but it is a small charge compared with that which will have to be incurred in the future. The pension charges now payable, it needs hardly be said, represent the services rendered by a past generation, the surviving residue from a very much smaller body of public servants than is now maintained. Within the last twenty years or so, the English agency in India has undergone a very great increase of numbers. In days gone by, both custom and law recognised only two classes of officials, the covenanted civil servants and their native subordinates; but of late years large and important branches of the public administration