chaste. The man of genius does not, then, by his oscillations of
temperament, retard or misdirect the company whose course he points.
It is an interesting question, nevertheless, what are the moral
standards of our apologist for the intellectual life, and what degree
of ethical perfection would satisfy him in a world of various spheres
all regenerated by culture. There is one letter in which he undertakes
to pick out the special virtue which most helps his ideal way of
life, and here, in chanting the praises of disinterestedness, he takes
rather a superior tone toward so homespun a grace as honesty: "The
truth is, that mere honesty, though a most respectable and necessary
virtue, goes a very little way toward the forming of an effective
intellectual character." This refinement of ethics, which leaves the
humdrum commandments away out of sight, is doubtless very fine, but
we cannot be sure that Mr. Hamerton has the same standard for all the
different strata of people whom he addresses. Pretty soon we find him
addressing a young clergyman, who appears to have apprehensions
lest intellectual doubts may come to disturb his satisfaction in
Bible-teaching. To this the author replies with the following
odd encouragement: "It may be observed, however, that the regular
performance of priestly functions is in itself a great help to
permanence in belief by connecting it closely with practical habit, so
that the clergy do really and honestly often retain through life their
hold on early beliefs which as laymen they might have lost." This hint
on the efficacy of continued rowing for stopping a leak in the bottom,
if it be really meant for encouragement, shows an odd principle of
honor, if not of "honesty." When it comes to the large and attractive
class which some persons call "females," Mr. Hamerton abandons with
ready grace his moral colors, and falls at once into the easiest tones
proper to a man of the world. "You must not be didactic with ladies,"
he says; and in the capital story about the mother-in-law he appears