Atlantic Monthly, Vol. XI., April, 1863, No. LXVI. by Various

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_February 10th_. Yesterday Mr. Thayer entertained Mr. Buckle at dinner.
The party included Mrs. R. and some of the guests whom we had met at her
table. We had hoped also for the presence of Mr. R., who was expected to
come up from Alexandria; but the train failed to bring him. Mr. Thayer
also invited Sir James Outram, but he is too unwell to come, although
expressing himself pleased with the invitation. The landlord of the
hotel where the consul-general is staying (Hotel des Ambassadeurs) was
very proud of the occasion, and the entertainment, although simple,
was elegant. An oval table was found of exactly the right size to seat
eight. Buckle was in excellent spirits, and, as before, was the life of
the party. We had been terribly afraid lest he and Hekekyan should get
into another long disputation, for the excellent Bey has fortified
himself with new materials; but the ladies were taken into our
confidence to aid in turning the conversation, if it should be
necessary, all of which made a great deal of entertainment; but there
proved to be no occasion for anything of the sort.

Buckle told some capital stories: among them, one against Alison, almost
too good to be true, namely, that in the first edition of his History he
mentioned among the causes of the French Devolution "the timber-duty,"
because he had read in a French pamphlet that there were popular
discontents about the _droits de timbre_.[A] Alison's History, he said,
is the very worst that ever was written. He cited a good definition,
(Addison's, I believe,) that "fine writing is that which is true without
being obvious." In the course of the conversation, in which, as before,
Buckle touched points in the whole circle of literature and science,
giving us quotations even in Hebrew from the Talmud and the Bible, he
made a very pretty compliment to our host, introduced as adroitly as
from the lips of a professed courtier, but evidently spoken on the
moment. It was something in this way. Hekekyan and Buckle were in an
argument, and Buckle said, "Ah, you mistake a necessary condition for
the cause." "What is cause but necessary condition?" asked Hekekyan.
"Very different: two men can't fight a duel without meeting, but every
two men who meet don't fight a duel." "But they couldn't fight a duel
without meeting," persisted Hekekyan. "Yes," rejoined Buckle; "but
the meeting isn't the cause of the duel. Why, there could not be a
dinner-party, unless the company met; but our meeting here to-day isn't
the cause of the dinner: the cause of the dinner is the kindness of our
host." "Or rather, of the landlord," said N. "Oh, no! of the American
government," said C. "Ah," said Buckle, "those things are not the
cause: the cause of our good dinner, I maintain, is only the charming
hospitality of the consul-general." Is not this metaphysics made easy,
and prettily employed?

[Footnote A: It is fair to say that an examination of the chapter on
the causes of the French Revolution, in several editions of Alison's
History, including the first, gives this story no support.]

After dinner we had tea and coffee; the ladies, in Egypt, could scarcely
do less than allow tobacco, and Mr. Buckle particularly enjoyed some
choice cigars which T. was able to offer him. The party did not break up
until nearly midnight, when all the guests retired together.

_February 11th_. To my pleasure, the train from Alexandria yesterday
afternoon brought Mr. B., of New York, and his very agreeable family,
with whom I crossed the Atlantic in the Persia last October. They went
at first to another hotel, but to-day they have determined to come to
that at which we are staying. I called upon them on their arrival, and
asked the gentlemen to join us at dinner, and afterwards in going, in
company with Mr. Buckle, whom Mr. Thayer had previously invited, to
attend a _fantasia_, or exhibition of singing and dancing, by Arab
professionals, at the house of Mr. Savallan, a wealthy French banker,
who has lived a long time in the Levant and has in some degree adopted
Oriental customs. He has lately sold to the Viceroy a tooth-brush, comb,
and hair-brush, for the handsome price of fourteen thousand dollars.
They were doubtless richly set with jewels; but the profit on these
transactions is immense. Mr. B. accepted the invitation for dinner, and
Mr. W. joined us afterwards.

At dinner I was seated next to Mr. Buckle, and thus had an opportunity
for private conversation. He asked about American books, and told me his
opinion of those he had read. He said that Quincy's History of Harvard
University was the latest book on America he received before leaving
England. He preferred Kent's exposition of the United States
Constitution to Story's, although this also he had consulted and used.
He had not seen Mr. Charles Francis Adams's complete edition of the
works of his grandfather, nor Parton's Life of Jackson, both of which I
begged him to read, particularly the chapters in the former in which are
traced the steps in the progress of making the American Constitutions.
He told me about his library in London, which is surpassed (among
private libraries) only by that belonging to Mr. Van de Weyer, the
Belgian Minister, whose wife is the daughter of our Bostonian Mr. Bates,
of Barings. Buckle has twenty-two thousand volumes, all selected by
himself; and he takes great pleasure in them. He spends eight or nine
hundred pounds a year upon his library. He owns copies of all the books
referred to in his History; some of them are very old and rare. He
also possesses a considerable collection, made likewise by himself, of
curiosities in natural history; he has added largely to it in Egypt,
where, in fact, he has been buying with open hands. He said he could not
be perfectly happy in leaving the country, if obliged to go away without
a crocodile's egg, a trophy which as yet he has been unable to obtain.

He told me his plan of travel in America. He will not set out until our
domestic troubles are composed, for he desires to see the practical
working of our institutions in their normal state, not confused and
disturbed by the excitements of war. He would go first to Boston and
New York, the intellectual and commercial heads (as he said) of the
republic,--and to Washington, the political capital. He would then like
to pass from the Northern into the Southern States, but asked if he
could travel safely in the latter, in view of his extreme opinions in
detestation of slavery. I assured him that nobody would dare to molest
one so well known, even if our war did not abate forever the nuisance
of lynching, to say nothing of its probable effect in promoting the
extinction of slavery. From the Southern States he said he would wish to
pass into Mexico, thence to Peru and to Chili; then to cross the Pacific
Ocean to Japan, to China, to India, and so back by the overland route
to England. This magnificent scheme he has seriously resolved upon, and
proposes to devote to it two or three years. He undertakes it partly for
information and partly for relaxation of his mental faculties, which he
has injured by overwork, and which imperatively demand repose. He asked
many questions with regard to matters of detail,--whether he would find
conveyance by steamers in the Pacific, and of what sort would be the
accommodations in them and in sailing-vessels. He asked at what season
he had best arrive in the United States, and whether he had better
land at New York or at Boston. Boston he said he regarded as "the
intellectual head of the country, and New York, you know, for trade." I
answered his questions as well as I could, and told him he must not omit
seeing our Western country, and some of the new cities, like Chicago. He
asked me if I knew "a Mrs. Child," who had written him a letter and sent
him her book about the history of religion. I knew of course that he
meant "The Progress of Religious Ideas," by Mrs. L. Maria Child. He had
been pleased with the letter, and with the book.

The conversation becoming general, Mr. B., of New York, told a story of
an old Congressional debate in which John Randolph derisively compared
Edward Everett to Richelieu: Buckle at once said he should regard it as
a compliment of the very highest kind to be compared to Richelieu. You
will smile, perhaps, if I tell you that I could not resist asking Buckle
if he had read Dumas's historical novels, and he said he had not,
although he had felt an inclination to do so. He asked one or two
questions about them, and gave a rapid generalization of the history of
France at that time.

This conversation at the dinner-table of course was by far the
pleasantest part of the evening, for the _fantasia_ did not amount to
much, although the house was a fine one, the host most cordial, and the
novelty of the entertainment was enjoyable.

_February 12th_. Mr. Buckle called upon T. and myself in the
afternoon, and sat talking between two and three hours. I wish I could
give you a full report of all that he said. He told us of the only
lecture he ever delivered; it was before the Royal Institution, March
19, 1858, and was printed in "Fraser's Magazine" for April, just
afterwards. It may be found reprinted in America in "Littell's Living
Age," No. 734. The subject was "The Influence of Women on the Progress
of Knowledge." Murchison, Owen, and Faraday told him afterwards,
separately, that they were perfectly satisfied with it, which is
certainly a strong combination of authority. He told us all about his
education, which is interesting, for he has been most truly self-taught.
When he was a boy, he was so delicate that it was thought he could not
live; the celebrated Dr. Abernethy, who was a particular friend of his
father, saw how important it was to keep him from mental excitement, and
begged that he might not be troubled by lessons. Accordingly, he was
never sent to school at any time, except for a brief period to a
clergyman who had directions not to make him study; and he was never
regularly taught anything. Until eight years of age he hardly knew his
letters. At the age of fifteen he found out Shakespeare and read it with
great zest. At seventeen he conceived the plan of his book, and resolved
to do two things to make himself fit to write it: first, he resolved to
devote four hours a day to the study of physical science, in order that
he might be able fully to understand and to unfold its relations with
history; secondly, he resolved to devote an equal portion of each day to
the study of English composition and practice in writing, in order that
he might be able to set forth his opinions with force and perspicuity.
To these resolutions he adhered for twelve years. Every day, after
breakfast, he shut himself up for four hours with his experiments and
his investigations; and afterwards devoted four hours to analyzing the
style of the best English authors, inquiring (as he said) "where it was
that I wrote worse than they." He studied not only in England, but in
Germany and other European countries. He learned all the languages which
he knows (and he knows nearly all I ever heard of) without the aid of a
master in any, excepting German, in which he began with a master, but
soon dismissed him, because he hindered more than he helped. He read
Hebrew with a Jewish rabbi, but that was after he had learned the
language. He considers the knowledge of languages valuable only as the
stepping-stone to other learning, and spoke with contempt of a person in
Egypt who was mentioned to him as speaking eight languages familiarly.

"Has he done anything?"

"No."

"Then he is only fit to be a courier."

Buckle is not a university-man, although both his father and grandfather
were educated at Cambridge.

He has long since abandoned the practice of writing at night, and now
does not put pen to paper after three o'clock in the afternoon. When at
home, in London, he walks every day, for about an hour and a half, at
noon; frequently dines out and reads perhaps an hour after coming home.
He goes exclusively to dinner-parties, because they take less time than
others. When he is engaged in composition, he walks about the room,
sometimes excitedly, his mind engrossed with his subject, until he has
composed an entire paragraph, when he sits down and writes it, never
retouching, nor composing sentence by sentence, which he thinks has a
tendency to give an abrupt and jerky effect to what is written. Traces
of this, he thinks, may be found in Macaulay's style.

Mr. Thayer showed him the little stock of books he happened to have with
him at Cairo. Mr. Buckle looked them over with interest, expressing his
opinions upon them. One of them, Mr. Bayle St. John's little book on the
Turkish question, he borrowed, although he said that he denied himself
all reading on this journey, undertaken for mental rest, and had brought
no books with him. We got upon the inevitable subject of international
copyright, which he discussed in a spirit of remarkable candor. His
own experience was this: that the Messrs. Appleton reprinted his first
volume without compensation, asking him to furnish materials for a
prefatory memoir, of which request he took no notice; afterwards, when
the second volume was published, they sent him something, I believe
fifty pounds. In due course of time, receiving a request from Theodore
Parker to that effect, he wrote a letter to aid him in the preparation
of a memoir for the Messrs. Appleton's Cyclopaedia.[B]

[Footnote B: In this memoir it is stated that Mr. Buckle was born at
Lee, November 24,1822. If this date be correct, his age, at the time of
his death at Damascus, May 29, 1862, fell short of forty years by five
days less than six months. In conversation, however, at this time,
February, 1862, he spoke of his age as thirty-eight, notwithstanding the
surprise that was expressed, for he appeared several years older. Mr.
Glennie, in his letter describing the circumstances of Mr. Buckle's
death, mentions his age as thirty-nine.]

I pointed out to Mr. Buckle the very important distinction between
_copyright for the British author_ and _monopoly for the British
publisher_. I told him that the American people and their
representatives in Congress would not have the least objection to paying
a trifling addition to the cost of books, which would make, upon the
immense editions sold of the popular books, a handsome compensation to
the foreign authors,--but that they have very decided objections to the
English system of enormously high prices for books. I instanced to him
several books which can be bought in the United States for a quarter or
half a dollar, while in England they cannot be purchased for less than
a guinea and a half, that is, for seven or eight dollars,--although the
author gains very little by these high prices, which, indeed, would be
absolutely prohibitory of the circulation of the books in the United
States. And since the great literary market of the United States has
been created at the public expense, by the maintenance of the system of
universal education, it is perhaps not unreasonable that our legislators
should insist upon preserving, by the competition among publishers, the
advantages of low prices of books, in pursuance of a policy which
looks to a wide circulation. In Great Britain the publishers follow
a different policy and insist on selling books at high prices to a
comparatively small circle of readers.

Mr. Buckle was kind enough to listen attentively to this sort of
reasoning and had the candor to admit that it is entitled to some degree
of weight. Indeed, he said at once that he had earnestly wished to bring
out a cheap edition of his own book in England, omitting the notes and
references, for the use of the working-classes, of whose appreciation,
as I have previously mentioned, he had received many gratifying proofs;
he had made his arrangements for this purpose, but was prevented from
carrying them out by the opposition of his publishers, who objected
that such an edition would injure _their_ interest in the more
costly edition. But Mr. Buckle freely declared that he would, in his
circumstances, rather forego the profit on the sale of his book than
restrict its circulation.

I may, perhaps, be permitted to mention that another English author
related to me his home experience, precisely to the same effect, in
which the vested interests of his publishers thwarted him in his wish
to publish an edition of his writings at a low price for general
circulation. It is quite certain that the British public must themselves
be disenthralled from the tyranny of high prices with which they are now
burdened, before they can ask to bring another land under the dominion
of their exclusive system in literature.

This conversation led to a description of the reading public
in America,--of the intelligence and independence of our
working-people,--of their habits of life and of thought,--about which
Buckle manifested great interest, asking many intelligent questions.

Mr. Buckle is in easy circumstances, and attends personally to the
management of his money. He finds no difficulty in letting it upon
first-class mortgages, at five per cent., and does not expect a higher
rate of interest.

_February 13th._ To-night there was a religious celebration, including
an illumination, in the mosque at the Citadel. We had expected to go
and see it; and Mr. T. had invited Mr. B. and his party, as well as Mr.
Buckle, and the two lads by whom he is accompanied in his journeyings,
to go with us. These young gentlemen are sons of a dear friend of Mr.
Buckle's, no longer living.

But at the last moment before dinner the advice was strongly given on
all sides that we should not go, lest some bigoted Mussulmans should
take offence, and there might be a disturbance. Not long ago, a party of
Englishmen behaved very badly in the mosque on a similar occasion, from
which has resulted a disturbed state of feeling. It of course cannot be
pleasant to people of any religious belief to have their ceremonies made
a spectacle for curiosity; and although the _moudier_ (mayor of the
city) promised ample protection, the plan was given up, and the company
being gathered, we had a pleasant evening together. The presence of the
ladies of Mr. B.'s party gave the opportunity to see Mr. Buckle again
under the inspiration of ladies' society, which he especially enjoys,
and in the lighter conversation suited to which he shines with not less
distinction than when conversing upon abstruse topics.

In the course of the evening, in the midst of conversation in which he
was taking an animated part, Mr. Buckle exhibited symptoms of faintness.
Fresh air was at once admitted to the room, which was full of
cigar-smoke; water and more powerful restoratives were brought, but
these he declined. After a few minutes' repose upon the divan, he
declared that he was perfectly recovered, and half an hour afterwards
took his leave with the boys. We were quite anxious until we heard that
he had safely reached his boat, in which he is still living.

_February 14th._ Returning from the Turkish bath, I found a valentine
in the shape of a telegraphic despatch only thirteen days from
Boston,--thirty-six hours from Liverpool. It was dated at Boston the
1st, forwarded from Liverpool at 10 A.M. of the 13th, and reached
Alexandria at 11.55 A.M. of the 14th, whence it was transmitted to Cairo
without delay. This is almost equal to the Arabian Nights. The distance
travelled by the despatch is about six thousand miles.

_February 15th_. This day we had an excursion to the Petrified Forest.
It was got up partly to give us all a taste of camel-riding, and it
was originally expected that everybody would go on camels; then it was
agreed that half should go on camels, and "ride-and-tie." In this view,
one camel and one donkey were ordered for T. and myself. But Mr. B. was
subsequently persuaded that with four horses he could have a carriage
dragged through the desert to the forest, which would be more
comfortable for the ladies; and he made that arrangement in his own and
their behalf. Freddy B. is a first-rate horseman, and an Arab steed was
ordered for him. Mr. Buckle was determined to go in a thing called a
_mazetta_, a sort of huge bedstead with curtains, borne on the back of a
camel, big enough to carry a small family, in which he expected to find
room for himself and the two boys travelling with him. Besides these,
the party included the Reverend Mr. Lansing, the excellent head of the
American mission here, the Honorable W.S., a young Englishman, and his
tutor, the Reverend Mr. S., whose agreeable company had been bespoken
when the camel-project was in full strength.

On looking down from the balcony at the transportation-train marshalled
for the occasion, amid the admiring gaze of all the idlers of Cairo,
I was at first a little chagrined to find, as the final result of the
various arrangements, that, besides the camels, the _mazetta_, the
carriage-and-four, and the proud-stepping horse, there appeared but one
donkey, that selected for me. But I was, in truth, very well off. To
begin with, it was not thought prudent that Mr. Buckle should use the
_mazetta_ until the procession had got beyond the narrow streets of
Cairo, lest the camel bearing it should take fright and knock the whole
thing to pieces against the wall of a house. Accordingly, he and his
charges took donkeys, and I rode off with them, at the head of the
column. By-and-by Mr. Buckle changed to the conveyance originally
proposed, but a very short experiment (literally, I suspect) sickened
him of the _mazetta_, whose motion is precisely that of a ship in a
storm, and he sent back to the town for donkeys. At the next halt the
ladies took him into the carriage, where he found himself, as he said,
"in clover," and that was the end of his greatness in camel-riding. This
remark, by the way, suggested a name ("Clover") for our boat in our
voyage up the Nile just afterwards; but patriotism prevailed, and we
named her "Union." It pretty soon appeared that the camel which T. was
riding was young and frisky; the animal was accordingly pronounced
unsafe, and T. changed to a donkey which had fortunately been brought
along for a reserve. The Honorable W.S.'s camel, from the saddle
becoming unfastened, pitched rider and saddle to the ground, a fall of
five or six feet: fortunately no harm was done, and he bravely mounted
again. The saddle upon the camel which the Reverend Mr. S. rode split
in two, and the seat must have been a torture; but he bore it like a
martyr, never flinching. But camel-stock had so far depreciated,
and donkeys gone up, that I was able to try as much as I liked of
camel-riding now and then, at the same time obliging a friend by the use
of my donkey meanwhile. Riding a camel at a walk is the same sort of
thing as riding a very hard-trotting horse without stirrups, and with
no chance to grasp the animal fairly to hold your seat. When the camel
trots, you may imagine yourself on a treadmill.

The journey to the forest, about ten miles, was safely accomplished. We
found the petrifactions duly wonderful. An excellent luncheon was
laid out, after which we had an hour and a half of very entertaining
conversation, in which Mr. Buckle and Rev. Mr. S. held the leading
parts,--all around us as desolate and silent as one could imagine. It
was interesting to observe the manner in which Buckle estimated eminent
names, grouping them in some instances by threes, a favorite conceit
with him. John Stuart Mill, of all living men, he considers as
possessing the greatest mind in the world. Aristotle, Newton, and
Shakspeare are the greatest the world has produced in past times. Homer,
Dante, and Shakspeare are the only three great poets. Johnson, Gibbon,
and Parr are the three writers who have done the greatest harm to the
English language. Of Hallam he has a strong admiration. He spoke of
Sydney Smith as the greatest English wit, and of Selwyn as next to him,
and described Macaulay's memory as unequalled in conversation.

For the return-trip, the donkeys generally were preferred. Miss B., with
spirit, tried camel-riding for a while, and so did Master F. We stopped
to look at the tombs of the Caliphs, and reached the hotel at nightfall,
somewhat fatigued, but satisfied with the day's expedition.

_February 16th._ The morning was gratefully devoted to rest. In the
afternoon, attended service at the Mission, where Rev. Mr. S. preached
an interesting discourse from John xv. 1-4. On the way home met Mr.
Buckle, who came in, and was persuaded to stay to dinner. In speaking
of religion, he said that there is no doctrine or truth in Christianity
that had not been announced before, but that Christianity is by far the
noblest religion in existence. The chief point of its superiority is
the prominence it gives to the humane and philanthropic element; and
in giving this prominence lies its originality. He believes in a Great
First Cause, but does not arrive at his belief by any process of
reasoning satisfactory to himself. Paley's argument, from the evidence
of design, he regards as futile: if the beauty of this world indicates
a creating cause, the beauty of that great cause would suggest another,
and so on. He believes in a future state, and declared most impressively
that life would be insupportable to him, if he thought he were forever
to be separated from one person,--alluding, it is probable, to his
mother, to whose memory he dedicates the second volume of his book.[C]
He has no doubt that in the future state we shall recognize one another;
whether we shall have the same bodies he has no opinion, although he
regards matter as indestructible. He declares himself unable to form any
judgment as to the mode of future existence. Religion, he says, is on
the increase in the world, but theology is declining.

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