sonages give vent to. While believing that he was seeking inspiration from Shakespeare, Victor Hugo was in reality proceeding differently. In Ruy Blas he said that he wished to depict "the Spanish monarchy one hundred and forty years ago"; in Lucrèce Borgia that he wished to depict "mother's love" incarnate in a "moral monster"; in Marie Tudor "a queen who should be a woman, great as a queen, true as a woman," &c.

In spite of his pretensions he does not make the grotesque start from the sublime or the sublime from the grotesque. He merely juxtaposes them. He distributes his scenes, here a sublime one, there a grotesque

one.

All the French romantics retain the tragic method of the seventeenth century: Racine and Victor Hugo bring on the scene automatons manufactured by them to repeat verses and deliver speeches.

The influence of the English novel, with its intense degree of perception and of setting forth the scenes of daily life, was very great. Thackeray, Bulwer Lytton, and Dickens have had, among our French novelists, imitators who went even so far as to falsify. Alphonse Daudet only knew Dickens in translations. Nevertheless, in le Petit Chose, in Jack we find methods which are borrowed from the English novelist, and also the description of the fog in the first chapter of Nabab and the receipt-boy's ballad in Fromont Jeune et Risler ainé. George Eliot

with the Mill on the Floss and Silas Marner taught us how to paint peasants and the real members of the lower middle class.

VI.

PHILOSOPHIC AND SOCIAL INFLUENCE.

French philosophy had stopped at Condillac when, in 1811, M. Royer Collard was appointed Professor of Phi

5

losophy. Taine relates that he was much embarrassed when he discovered at one of the second-hand bookstalls on the quays the translation of an unknown book called Researches on Human Understanding according to Commonsense Principles, by Doctor Thomas Reid. He paid thirty sous for it, and, says Taine, "he had then just bought and founded the new French philosophy." Cousin and Jouffroy carried it on with Dugald Stewart.

John Stuart Mill's Logic (1843), sufficiently deductive not to alter too considerably our French habits, replaced the logic of Port Royal. Although differing on many points from Auguste Comte, the founder of positivism, he allowed him a pension which enabled him to live and continue his labors.

The formula "The greatest happiness for the greatest number" is due to the French philosopher Helvetius. It was carried to England by Priestley. Bentham related the impression it caused him when he discovered it." He follows the English tradition, which consists in seeking the useful rather than losing one's self in speculative conception. Thanks to his collaborator, the Genevese Etienne Dumont, he published his works in French at the same time as in English. He sent to the National Assembly of 1789 projects concerning the taxes, tribunals, prisons, colonies, &c. Although he wished to subject the actions of public powers to his formula he was individualist, for he put on the first plane of a legislator's duties that of ensuring safety of property. All the measures proposed by Bentham had a deep influence on the French publicists." John Stuart Mill differed from Bentham on certain subjects, but his book On Liberty (1859) and his other book, Considerations on Representative Government (1861), had,

5"Les philosophes classiques," p. 22. 6" Deontologie."

7 Voir Charles Comte, "Traité de Législation," 2nd edition, 1835.

at the end of the Empire, the greatest possible effect on French youth. However, forty years after, we do not yet admit, in practice, his assertion that an organized opposition in presence of power is the indispensable element of progress.

Adam Smith's book, An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations, appeared in 1776. J. B. Say spread it in 1804, by means of his Traité d'Economie politique, adding certain views, and he developed its teaching in his class on political economy at the Conservatoire des Arts et Métiers. Charles Comte and Charles Dunoyer also sought inspiration from the English economist. The habits of mind of Englishmen and Frenchmen being what they are, it is a Frenchman who should have applied the deductive method to Economical Science, as was done by Ricardo. And yet it was never accepted by the French even in the small dose prescribed by John Stuart Mill in his Principles of Political Economy. When Bastiat translated Cobden et la Ligue he brought the economical studies under the influence of the Manchester School, and it is objective. The French economists have studied the English economists, and know English facts, whereas the socialists of the chair and the democratic socialists refer to the Germans.

The History of England has continued to be studied as a political manual useful for Frenchmen. Guizot sought

in his Histoire de la Révolution d'Angleterre "the causes which gave to the English monarchy the firm success which France and Europe still pursue." He was unable to attain it.

Gibbon had written the history of The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire under Voltaire's influence, but in his turn he put forth a book which served as a model for all the historians of the nineteenth century. Hume, Robertson, Hallam, Macaulay, Buckle,

Freeman, the works of Mr. Flint on the philosophy of history, and the works of Mr. James Bryce have been studied by all men who believe that history is a composition and not a mere unconnected string of facts.

Carlyle, with his vehement style, his discoveries, his bias, and his obscurity, had his imitators in France. Michelet belongs to the same family, Taine felt his imprint, and all the Cæsarians invoke his authority.

The English have produced detailed monographs of their famous men, corresponding to the manner in which Sainte-Beuve practised criticism; he studies the childhood, family, education, occupations, means of existence, dietary, manias, fads, faults and qualities of each man he writes about. He everywhere shows mistrust for the methodic system.

From a purely scientific point of view the English did not exert a lesser influence in the nineteenth century than in the eighteenth. They transformed our methods in natural science.

In France we were still at the theatrical conception of the Revolutions of the Globe, brought forth by Cuvier, when Charles Lyell came to substitute (1830-33) the true and definite theory of "actual causes." The Frenchman Lamarck and Geoffroy Sainte Hilaire had foreseen evolution; but when in 1858 Darwin showed the part played by selection and struggle for life he brought about a complete transformation in biology.

Herbert Spencer tried to explain the Universe systematically, and to show the conditions of evolution. By a series of deductions, always resting on inductions, he followed up the development of human activity under all its phases, moral, artistic, and political. The greater number of his works were translated into French, and in spite of the philosophy, cloudy, oratorical, and subtle, which the University continued

to teach, they certainly made their mark on French thought.

It is very fortunate; for Herbert Spencer recalled to the French thinkers, sons of Plato, that words must not be taken for things. The constant appeal to facts is the first condition of all scientific research, and it implies a second: loyalty. English men of science do not try to astonish by sophism, they have truth for their object, and after giving to the world the experimental method, they oblige everyone to practise it scrupulously.

Hence it is easy to recognize in France the authors, professors, political writers, and scholars who have felt English influence. Their works are characterized by a sincerity and probity which do not appear in the others.

VII.

CONCLUSIONS.

As conclusions, I would say that the intellectual influence of England on France has been exercised in the following forms:

1. The chief one is liberty; England has freed French thought, French science from the "authority" argument; Shakespeare freed our theatre from the Aristotelian rules; Locke and English institutions taught the rest of the world the true conditions of political liberty.

2. The second form, which is a consequence of the first, is the scientific form. It is Bacon against Plato, Newton against Descartes, Lyell against Cuvier. The movement was continued by Darwin and Herbert Spencer. The Fortnightly Review.

It

was strengthened also by Adam Smith. It is the inductive method opposed to intuitive conception. It is reality opposed to the assertions and subtleties which we inherited from the Greek sophists.

3. From a literary point of view, its character is similar. Swift and Daniel Defoe gave to their inventions the reality of legal reports. Walter Scott made history familiar by making his heroes eat, drink, and sleep. Richardson, Fielding, Thackeray, Dickens and George Eliot taught us to see and relate little facts of everyday life.

4. From a political point of view, England has rendered a distinct service to the world, which it is only just beginning to realize in all its bearing.

In ancient republics, and more especially in absolute governments, parties were considered as factions; the party which had seized the reins of power was bound to crush and destroy the others. England has shown a system established on co-existence and free competition of the different parties; a system which has sheltered that nation from revolutions for more than two centuries, and however badly may be adapted the Parliamentary government to the various countries who have borrowed it, it has put an end, in most of them, to conspiracies, pronunciamientos, and revolutions.

In short, the intellectual influence of the English over the French taught the latter to subordinate his subjective conceptions to objective method, and to learn the character and utility of the competition in politics, in economics and in biology.

Yves Guyot.

Above the placid valley of Craven, in the uttermost corner of Yorkshire, stand the three mountain-masses of Ingleborough, Penyghent, and Whernside. Ingleborough holds the central position, and, thanks to his isolation, achieved long ago the reputation of being the highest point in England. From Whernside, on the one hand, and from Penyghent on the other, Ingleborough is cut off by two deep valleys, which form his basis into a vast rough triangle, of which one line is made by the infant Ribble, flowing beneath Penyghent, and the other by the Greta, perpetually disappearing underground, like Arethusa, as it makes its way down towards Ingleton. The third side of the triangle, and the broadest, is the lowland of Craven itself, along which gently goes the Wenning in search of the Lune.

On this great triangle, as on a pedestal, stands the mass of Ingleborough, built, like his two neighbors, of shale and grit, with one narrow belt of mountain limestone appearing about a hundred feet from the summit in an abrupt cliff, on which grow the rare plants for which the hill is celebrated. But the statue, like Flaubert's Salammbo, is too small for its plinth; splendid as are the proportions of Ingleborough, the pavement of limestone spreads out far and wide beneath the last steep slopes of the gritstone giant himself, so that on surmounting the lower fells one finds oneself on a perfectly flat even floor of white boulders stretching away to the foot of the mountain. And it is in this white pavement that are found all the famous watersinks that feed the streams far below, in the unknown caverns through which they run. For in his magnificent solitude Ingleborough gathers all the clouds of heaven, and their rains streaming down his slopes

have so fretted away the limestone of the levels that, here and there, the waters disappear into some secret chink or narrow terrible shaft between the rocks. It is practically certain that all these chasms ultimately have connection with the caves from which the rivers of Craven issue into the valleys far below at the cliff's foot; but there now seems little hope that any practicable passage will ever be effected, or that, as was once hoped, the pot-holes and the caves will all be found part of one enormous system of caverns ramifying throughout the heart of Ingleborough. So far as has been yet discovered, each watersink conveys only its own stream, and never joins it with that from any other hole. Rift Pot alone has been connected with Long Kin East, a modest little winding crack in the white limestone, a yard across or less, that drops nearly four hundred feet to the abyss beneath. Round Long Kin East are gathered a little knot of immature pot-holes, twenty to thirty feet in depth or so, and filled with fern and lily-of-the-valley, where the silence of the hills is only broken by the sluggish drip of water, draining away to unsuspected depths. These open shafts, however, with their water-fluted walls of limestone, and their clear pools below, are mere bruta fulmina, beguiling obviousnesses in the labyrinth of death-traps. For it is the unsuspected, meek-looking cavities that hide real danger. A tiny opening, an apparent rabbit-hole, will drop a stone, echoing dimly, three hundred feet or more; and Rift Pot itself, obviously an hour's work for its explorers, and only four dozen yards or so in depth, gave full occupation for a day and a night, and carried the seekers four hundred feet down, in drop after drop.

With such deadly dimples the smil

ing face of the upper limestone is studded all over the base of Ingleborough, from the mild open holes above Weathercote, right round the western, southern, and eastern faces of the mountain, to the grim and aptly named Helln Pot, close above Selside. But the deepest and the most awful of the water-holes is Gaping Ghyll. The Chasm comes upon one by surprise, and, unlike the others, does not disguise its horror. Following the stream from its source high up on the eastern face of Ingleborough, its meanderings lead one at last to the lower sedgeclad levels of the moor, and there, after disappearing several times beneath its limestone bed, in the manner of the mountain streams, it ends abruptly in a deep, basin-shaped depression. On three sides falls a steep bank of heather and moss; on the fourth, far down under the converging slopes, the stream disappears over a smooth white lip of rock into an open rounded well of darkness, up which floats a faint wraith of spume. The shaft itself is dank and wet; a dull light shines from the rock, and strange livid lichens grow in lines and patches as far down as the last rays of daylight will permit. Above, on the upper ledges, dellcate ferns and wood anemone balance in the ascending reek of the pot-hole; and higher still, where the smooth slope above breaks sheer off in the precipice, hang the last tufts of heather and sedge and hawkweed that offer so delusive a handhold to any unwary victim of the bank. And yet, horrible as the place is, deadly and evil beyond expression, it has absolutely no record of tragedy, and this, too, though red-tape and manorial complications have always forbidden it to be railed in, and left it an open peril in the moor. Further, Gaping Ghyll, for all its terrors, has no legend, no ghost, no supernatural reputation in the country-side. About two miles

away, in the narrow valley beneath the fells, the great Ingleborough Cave opens into the Ingleborough Woods, and from a subsidiary mouth flows that stream which, after feeding the lake above Ingleborough House, drops in a series of waterfalls towards the Craven lowlands, where it becomes the Wenning, and ultimately joins the Lune at Wennington on its way down to Lancaster and the sea. And this stream which emerges from the cave under the cliff is, beyond doubt, the same that plunges into Gaping Ghyll on the moor five hundred feet and more above, and about two miles away.

It was thus known, long since, that of all the pot-holes, Gaping Ghyll was the one that held out the finest prospects of a big cave-system, and even of some practicable passage out into the daylight once more. The first descent of the great Ghyll was made by M. Edmond Martel, the French spelæologist, who, with practised intrepidity, went down alone into the darkness, and after several hours returned with the news of an enormous hall beneath the main shaft. He, however, found no outlet from this hall and it was left for the Yorkshire Ramblers in subsequent descents to discover passages leading from either end of it towards farther halls and corridors and abysses.

When I first gazed upon the fraillooking little rope-ladder that swayed and wobbled away out of sight beneath my feet, I was not disposed to flatter myself on my prudence in having persuaded the Ramblers to let me accompany them on their latest exploration in the depth of Gaping Ghyll. And when, from that vacillating Grig o' Dread, a Rambler emerged once more into the upper air, wearied and wet, I found it necessary to take my determination into both hands and squeeze it vigorously back into firm