MISS BURKE ON THE VALUE OF LIFE.* WE conclude that

this little book is composed, selected, and arranged by a Roman Catholic lady as it is published by a Roman Catholic Society, prefaced by a distinguished Roman Catholic poet, and since its favourite poet,—Longfellow perhaps excepted,—appears to be Miss Adelaide Procter, who wrote perhaps the larger number of her poems under the inflnence of the Roman Catholic faith. But there is nothing else except these three indications to suggest that Miss Burke herself belongs to that communion. She quotes very freely from writers who are not Roman Catholic, and never rests any of her main lines of thought upon any distinctive

• The Talmo of Life. By O. E. Barka. With a Preface by Aubrey Be Yore. London: Dathoic Trath Society. Roman Catholic dogma ; or indeed, on any dogma at all, though everywhere she assumes the Christian faith as that centre or axis of the true life of which Bacon, as she reminds us, has so grandly said, "Certainly it is heaven upon earth to have a

man's mind move in Charity, rest in Providence, and turn upon the poles of Truth." Mr. Aubrey De Vere, who writes the little preface to this small book with that distinction with which his prose is always marked, says it is the " speciality " of this book, that in writing of the value of life it makes no "arbitrary separation between the useful and the noble. In its estimate of life the humblest duties are based upon principles so high that to some they will appear mystic." That is indeed the value of this little book. Principles which do not seem mystic to the average man are hardly principles at all, and yet there is nothing in the least either obscure

or ambitious about the book before us. It is a woven net- work of such thoughts as a writer profoundly convinced that to have the mind of Christ is the great end of all living, would put together without any leaning towards mysticism as mysticism, and still less towards transcendentalism for the

sake of its air of grandeur. Indeed Miss Burke's favourite authors are all extremely natural and simple, not to say to some extent so far conventional, that, like Longfellow, their thoughts take hold of the practical more easily than of the literary class. For our own part we should have enjoyed Miss Burke's poets more heartily if she had taken more kindly to such writers as Wordsworth or Tennyson or Aubrey de Vere, and less kindly to the delicate and pretty, but some- what conventional, poetry of Miss Adelaide Procter. Still, we are inclined to think that she will reach a much wider audience with her present preferences than she could have done with what would have seemed to us a more subtle appreciation of distinction in a poet. And her foundation is

not less mystic, but not in any sense more mystic, than any profoundly religious mind's foundation must be,—for she loves

the least paradoxical form in which religious convictions

can be expressed, not the most paradoxical form. There is nothing exalt or in the least intellectually strained about her

favourite thoughts. They are such as will take hold of every mind that has a hankering after faith, but that has not gone to philosophy for its basis. It would be impossible, for instance, to find anything tempting to the ambitious mind in what she says of the proper sphere of woman. She is perfectly wise but also perfectly natural. She thinks that women should be women and not bad imitations of men, but she thinks also that women should be so educated as to share all men's highest interests,and not to be shut out from sympathy with the boldest and keenest intellects. She regards the great charm of women as consisting in that more exquisite common-sense, that more delicate and subtle refinement which men so often miss from having to concern themselves Bo much with commonplace, and to some extent blunting, discriminations. Here, for instance, is an

admirable illustration of the sens acquis with which woman can find the right point of view for exhibiting the silver lining of the cloud of sorrow to the duller capacity of man :—

"The old saying, Every cloud has is silver lining' should often bring us comfort when the world appears to be frowning upon us. A rare example of this was shown by Hawthorne's wife, who proved herself to him a true 'friend in need." One wintry day he had received notice that his services would no longer be required at his office. Weary and downcast, he returned to his humble home. His young wife stood waiting for him, and noticed at once that something was wrong. He told her his troubles. Straightway the brave little woman with her own hands kindled a bright fire ; fetched pen, ink, and paper, which she set beside him : then, with a beaming face, she touched the sad man on the shoulder and said, "Now you can write your book !" Immediately the cloud cleared, and things presented themselves to Hawthorne under a changed aspect. He felt a freed man : the office appeared as a cage from which he had escaped. The "Scarlet Letter" was written, and proved a marvellous success ; and fame rewarded Hawthorne and the brave little wife who had faced the cloud and found its silver lining.'" (pp. 183-84.)

And here again, within the limits of the same essay, is an exquisite illustration of the light which comes to the mind from what seems the sudden descent of darkness on the lot of man :—

" The miseries that flesh is heir to—deformity and blindness, pain and weakness—have often the result of raising our natures and ennobling our characters. What is so often wanting to us in this world of hurry is time to think. Rushing through life as we do, we have no time to go below the surface of things, and view in their entirety the realities of life and death Illness comes ; with it prostration. and hours of loneliness and thought, during which good work in the soul is often accompliaed. It is then

that the meaning of life is better understood, and worldly matters take their proper proportions. Is it not rare to see a blind man who is wholly bad ? On the contrary, do we not often note that those who, before this affliction came upon them, were subject to impatience and irritability, seem, with their trial to acquire both gentleness and resignation ? May not this also be the result of their now having time to think ? It may not be given to them to understand why their trial has come upon them, but they are satisfied with their Saviour's words : 'What I am doing thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter.'" (pp. 187-88.)

We are not sure that we have ever before seen the remark, how rare it is to find the blind wholly bad,—indeed, to find them anything but better than they would in all probability have been had they not had the world shut out from their eyes in that exceptional fashion. A thoroughly bad blind man must be almost worse than any other kind of bad man, for he can hardly help having reflected on his own state of mind and conscience more continually than any man who has eyes in his head.

In a word, Miss Burke's thoughtful and attractive little book on the value of life is an admirable presentation of the view taken by a thoroughly Christian mind of the duties and feelings which make up a life of real value. Mr. De Vere describes admirably what it really aims at, and, as we think, succeeds in, in his short preface :—

"This is pre-eminently a household book. Literature has many functions' and one of its happiest is often one of its least preten- tious—that of helping to brighten and harmonise households less peaceful than they might easily be made. It is in the 'home,' as Wordsworth tells us, that 'we find our happiness, or not at all.' What has the greatest nation for its moral basis but a number of households, some stately, some lowly, but both classes capable alike of being good and happy if only their inmates live under the sway of unselfish aims, benign affections, and those manners which are but the outward expression of good principles in the usages of daily life. To promote such principles and shape such households is to do more for a nation than to double its dominion or its wealth—things often but snares. It does more for total humanity than scientific discoveries that reduce to any extent those material evils which prey upon the race, for with those physical evils man's moral well-being is often most closely con- nected." (pp. 7-8.)

That is a true description of the aim of Miss Burke's amulet of spiritual thoughts, which will, we sincerely believe, be of the greatest use wherever a mind is found inclined to accept the Christian faith, but halting between the atti- tude which stumbles at great difficulties, and the attitude which clings fondly to "the larger hope."