THE SIDNEY FAMILY.*
THERE are not many families which have produced in three generations three men so distinguished as Sir Henry, Sir Philip, and Algernon Sidney. Nor was the type of greatness repeated in these heroes. Nature as she made each broke the mould, and the wise statesman, the chivalrous knight, the daring philosopher, secure our admiration by separate qualities and various distinctions. And when we remember that !` Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother," and the famous Sacharissa were of the same family, we realise that Mr. Sidney had plenty of material at his hand for a valuable and interesting book. Unfortunately he has not done justice to his material ; his Mempirs are compiled without skill, and written without enthusiasm ; and though in the main we accept his conclusions, we feel regret for the waste of an excellent opportunity.
Mr. Sidney believes that Sir Henry, the famous Viceroy of Ireland, "was the greatest character which his family, the Sidneys of Penehuret, ever produced." And, though a com- parison with his more brilliant son is manifestly impossible, it is true that Sir Henry was a wise and self-sacrificing states. man. Three times he was sent by Elizabeth to Ireland, and each time he returned poorer by £3,000 than when he went. But rather than shirk his duty he would impoverish his house, and, like many a greater man, he suffered from the ingratitude of Kings. Far Elizabeth not only accused him of being "a too costly servant," she even declared that he "alienated from her the hearts of her subjects "; and it is small wonder that he burst forth into a fury of rage. His loyalty to the throne, indeed, should have been above sus- picion. Despite his alliance with the Dudley family, he took no part in Northumberland's plot; and though while Mary reigned he was an exile from Court, he paid allegiance to the Catholic Queen, and, staunch Protestant that he was, be won the friendship of Philip of Spain. However, Elizabeth's accession gave him the chance, which he eagerly seized, and though his wise services were ill rewarded, he had at least the satisfaction which comes from a devoted patriotism. For the rest, be is said to have been very handsome, and Holinshed calls him "the onelie od man and paragon of the Court," a compliment which his portrait singularly belies. But Henry VIII. had made e. fat face and beady eyes fashionable, and it is possible that the portrait-painter accommodated his subject to the passing mode.
Sir Henry Sidney, in brief, was a brave soldier and a fearless administrator. Yet for us he is greatest because be was father of the brave and gracious Sir Philip, author of Arcadia, who died upon the battlefield of Zutphen. Now Sir Philip is of those fortunate heroes whose reputation is greater than their performance. His very name echoes with romance, and though he died at thirty-two, he has remained for three centuries the type of a polished courtier and a fine soldier. His works are rather spoken of than read. Professors have been in doubt as to the true medium of his once famous novel, and even his latest biographer seems to describe it as a poem. The Arcadia, in truth, has found a place on the topmost shelf, from which books are seldom dislodged/ and though AstroAnkel and Stella may still arouse an admiration of curiosity, it is not for his works that we keep green the memory of Sir Philip. Again, he was a renowned patron of letters, gifted not only with generosity, but with insight. He was among the first to note the excel- lence of Spenser; he accepted dedications from Giordano • Memoirs of the Sidney Family. By Philip Sidney. London : T. Fisher tuwin. Odd Bruno, he knew Beaumont and Fletcher, Marlowe, Bacon, Raleigb,—all the distinguished men of his time. And while his taste was delicate, his judgment in the weightier matter of politics was admirably sound. A keen champion of Protestantism, he opposed the influence of Spain, and he was one of the first to understand the importance of a Colonial Empire. But it is not for his intelligence that we praise him; as we have said, his career was rather of aspiration than of achievement, and his enduring fame is explained
neither by the deeds that he performed, nor by tie books which he wrote.
Sir Philip Sidney, however, had the genius of attraction. Wherever he went, whatever he did, he compelled the eyes and the wits of his contemporaries to follow him. Long before Zutphen he was the perfection of elegance and chivalry, and had he never offered the glass of water to a dying oomrade he would still have been called the Bayard of England. None the less, his glory hangs upon the phrase: '• Thy necessity is greater than mine ;"' and Sidney's fate is another proof that words rather than deeds confer immortality. Not that we would under- rate the grandeur of the sacrifice; we would only point out that many a soldier might have suppressed himself with equal sublimity, and lacking the phrase, have escaped the commendation of the world. But while the sacrifice at Zutphen has given Sir Philip Sidney a death- less fame, it has somewhat obscured his real character. Because he gave up a cup of water, be has been imagined the type of unselfish surrender and amiability. Yet this view is by no means justified. Like all the Sidneys, Sir Philip was a man of violent temper and anick hatreds. His quarrel with Lord Oxford proved how valiantly he could bear himself, and that not even the Queen's command could induce him to apologise where he knew no apology was due.
Moreover a letter, quoted in the present volume, and addressed to Edmund Molynenx, is clear evidence that "the jewel of her dominions," as Elizabeth styled him, would not brook interference or indiscretion. Thus rune the letter :-
" Ma. MoLvxxtrx,—Few words are best. My letters to my Father have come to the ears of some ; neither can I condemn any but you. If it be so, you have played the very knave with me ; and so I will make you know, if I have good proof of it. Tifat for as much a s is past: For that is to come, I assure you before God, that if ever I know you do so much as read any letter I write to my Father, without his commandment or my consent, I will thrust my dagger into you ; trust to it, for I speak in earnest.
PHILIP SIDNEI."
In that letter there is no amiability, no surrender; and when we remember the cup of water splendidly sacrificed at Zutphen we must also remember how Sir Philip once dealt with his father's secretary.
Bat the most puzzling of them all is Algernon Sidney, the philosopher who died a martyr to his cause. That he was condemned for a crime which be did not commit is only too evident; on the other hand, it is equally clear that he was guilty of a crime for which he did not stiffer. Without doubt he intrigued with the King of France against his own country, and thus countenanced the same meanness which disgraced Charles I. To war openly against the existing order may be just and even glorious ; in Algernon Sidney's own words, "the general revolt of a whole nation is not a rebellion"; but to make common issue with your country's enemy, especially when that enemy is the autocrat of your fiercest hatred, is neither honest nor sensible, But the truth is that Algernon Sidney was a visionary, with a practical ambition. He oaposed Charles I., yet refused to sanction his death. Thereafter he found Cromwell a worse tyrant than the Monarch whose head had fallen on the block, and he denounced him as Cnsar with a lack of discretion which brought a scandal on his family. Yet while you recognise his impracticability, while you know that no government could have satisfied his ideals of anarchy, you cannot but
admire his courage and Quixotism. There was but a single blot on his fantastic, intrepid career, and had he never parleyed with Louis XIV. our indignation at his judicial murder might have been unrestrained. However, he lived devoted to the principles of a free government, and he showed at the scaffold how a hero should die. So that if he were not the greatest of the Sidney; he was as highly endowed and as persistently romantic as any of them.
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