though apparently more lofty, ideal; which may be manifested more
simply, and therefore more perfectly, in the England of the
nineteenth century, than in the Germany of the thirteenth. To enter
into the meaning of self-sacrifice--to sympathise with any one who
aims at it--not to be misled by counterfeits of it--not to be unjust
to the truth which may be mixed with those counterfeits--is a
difficult task, but a necessary one for any one who takes this work
in hand. How far our author has attained these ends, others must
decide. I am sure that he will not have failed from forgetting
them. He has, I believe, faithfully studied all the documents of
the period within his reach, making little use of modern narratives;
he has meditated upon the past in its connection with the present;
has never allowed his reading to become dry by disconnecting it with
what he has seen and felt, or made his partial experiences a measure
for the acts which they help him to understand. He has entered upon
his work at least in a true and faithful spirit, not regarding it as
an amusement for leisure hours, but as something to be done
seriously, if done at all; as if he was as much 'under the Great
Taskmaster's eye' in this as in any other duty of his calling. In
certain passages and scenes he seemed to me to have been a little
too bold for the taste and temper of this age. But having written
them deliberately, from a conviction that morality is in peril from
fastidiousness, and that it is not safe to look at questions which
are really agitating people's hearts merely from the outside--he
has, and I believe rightly, retained what I should from cowardice
have wished him to exclude. I have no doubt, that any one who wins
a victory over the fear of opinion, and especially over the opinion
of the religious world, strengthens his own moral character, and
acquires a greater fitness for his high service.