effected when the poles of the electric circuit were plunged into separate vessels, connected only by moistened amianthus-certain of the decomposed parts not merely showing themselves, as if transferred by the electric current from one vessel to another, but even appearing to pass freely, under this polarized condition, through an intermediate vessel, containing other chemical agents, with which, in ordinary circumstances, they would instantly combine. In sequel to these beautiful experiments, and by the same agency, Davy succeeded in obtaining the metallic bases of the alkalies and earths—a discovery more imposing on first aspect, and effecting great change in every part of chemistry, yet of less real import than that great principle of electro-chemical action just adverted to, of which it formed a particular result. The views as to the nature and conditions of this action were, however, imperfect and faulty, until the genius of Faraday-successfully exercised in every part of science-determined certain laws, which, though they may be modified and extended hereafter, will probably form the basis of our future knowledge on the subject. Earlier opinion had supposed a peculiar energy of the poles, or extremities of the wires, in an electric circuit, determining the chemical actions which manifest themselves at these points. Applying to them the name of electrodes, Faraday regards the poles as simply opening a way or passage to the electric current; and draws attention more explicitly to the electrolite, as he terms any chemical compound interposed between them, and thus submitted to the influence of the current. This electrolite, to admit of decomposition, must be so far in fluid state as to allow mobility of particles, and must be continuous between the poles-conditions which, in conjunction with other phenomena, justify and illustrate the theory now adopted, that there is in these cases no actual transference of material particles by the electric current, but a series of successive decompositions and recompositions in the line of particles between the poles, evolving the component parts of the electrolite only where the current ceases to flow through it. This may seem, to a mind untutored in such subjects, a strange complexity of action. But it will not so appear to those accustomed to regard the atomical relations of matter, as they must necessarily exist, to fulfil the various conditions of chemical change which are now made known to us. No further details are needful to show the importance of these electro-chemical actions, and the close connexion they establish between two great elements of power or force in the material world. The theory of this relation has been, and even yet is, a quæstio vexata among philosophers. It pertains to Electricity equally as to Chemistry; and its entire solution, if attained, will probably probably be from the same source for both. The doctrine of Volta, deriving the phenomena of the pile from the contact between different metals, regarded the chemical actions in the electric current as secondary and subordinate effects. Wollaston, more justly appreciating them, found in these very actions the motivepower developing all electricity. The opinions of Davy on the subject were less determinate; but the more recent labours of Faraday, while adding to our knowledge by new discoveries, have given firmer basis to the chemical theory of Wollaston, by proving that no chemical action or change can occur without developement of electricity; and conversely, that the electric element is never put into activity without some evidence of chemical change. This, however, being ascertained, how much yet remains to be solved as to the mysterious relation before us! We may well describe it in the phrase of an eminent philosopher, l'abime des incertitudes est le théâtre des découvertes.' It abounds in difficulties—it is rich in the promise of great results. We might speak nearly in the same terms of the connexion between chemical phenomena and those of light. Science has only recently approached this subject; but with a success which may well justify the ardour of present pursuit: and Photography, under whatever name or manner of use, has already taken its place as a separate branch of human knowledge, and an admirable acquisition to the arts. The whole depends on the chemical changes produced by light; and it is worthy of note that the substances most sensitive to this action, are compounds of iodine, bromine, and chlorine-three elements peculiarly belonging to modern chemistry—the combinations of which with each other, and with silver, have been so exquisitely refined, that surfaces are now obtained nearly 100 times more sensitive to light than that which Daguerre originally employed. Considered simply as an art, it is certain that photography has not reached its limit of perfection, which may possibly yet be made to include the effects of colouring by solar light. Viewed as a science, it opens still wider space to research. The beautiful experiments of Herschel in 1840, followed by those of Becquerel, Draper, &c., disclose connexions between chemical action and the different parts of the spectrum, which render still more marvellous the physical properties of the solar beam—that splendid problem of the natural world, including within itself, or evolving by its presence, all the great elements of material action and power; and through this very complexity of its nature promising the discovery of relations more profound than any yet compassed by philosophy. The principle of polarity is likely to be a main object and guide in the inquiries thus directed to the connexion of elementary forces; and the summary we have given of modern chemistry will show in how many ways the atomical actions of matter depend on this common principle of power, which operates so largely in the other great phenomena of the universe. This summary we must now bring to a close; though in so doing, we omit many other discoveries which have given lustre to the period under review. Such are the singular phenomena of catalysis, the reduction of various gases to the liquid, or even the solid form, by compression and cold, the numerous new metals discovered, the relations of volume in hydrated salts to the constituent water, &c. Enough, however, has been given to justify our assertion of the wonderful progress of this science; and our anticipation of future results hardly less remarkable than those now attained. We have been careful to indicate, as the subjects came before us, the probable paths of future discovery; each giving access to new truths, yet all converging towards common principles and powers. If there be less of epic character here than in Astronomy, yet does the science of Chemistry form a noble didactic poem-admirable and harmonious in all its parts— and carrying us forwards, through a long series of wonderful phenomena, to those great and eternal laws which express the Providence and the wisdom governing the world. ART. III.-Clément XIV. et les Jésuites. Par J. Crétineau W JE must confess that something like profane curiosity arrested our attention, and compelled us, as it were, to a more careful examination of this book. Its author had previously published a History of the Company of Jesus, in six volumes; and with that patience which belongs to our craft, we had perused them from the beginning to the end. M. Crétineau Joly is so awfully impressed, not only with the greatness of the Jesuit order, but with the absolute identification of their cause and that of true religion, almost with their impeccability, that he can scarcely be offended if we pronounce his work, in our opinion, far below the dignity of his theme. That theme would indeed test the powers of the most consummate writer. The historian of the Jesuits should possess a high and generous sympathy with their self-devotion to what they esteemed the cause of their Master, their all-embracing activity, their romantic spirit of adventure in the wildest regions; but no less must he show a severe sagacity in discerning the human motives, the worldly policy, policy, the corporate, which absorbed the personal ambition; he must feel admiration of the force which could compel multitudes, lustre after lustre, century after century, to annihilate the individual, and become obedient, mechanically-moving wheels of that enormous religious steam-engine, which was to supply the whole world with precepts, doctrines, knowledge, principles of action, all of one pattern, all woven into one piece;—and at the same time, exercise a sound and fearless judgment as to the workings of such an influence on the happiness, the dignity of mankind. He must have the industry for accumulating an appalling mass of materials: yet be gifted with that subtle and almost intuitive discrimination which will appreciate the value and the amount of truth contained in documents, here furnished by friends who have been dazzled into blindness by the most fanatic zeal there by enemies who have been darkened into blindness, no less profound, by that intense hatred, which even beyond all other religious orders or bodies of men it has been the fate of the Jesuits to provoke. He must be armed with a love of truth, which can trample down on all sides the thick jungle of prejudice which environs the whole subject; he must be superior to the temptation of indulging either the eloquence of panegyric or the eloquence of satire: endowed with a commanding judgment, in short, which, after rigid investigation, shall not only determine in what proportions and with what deductions the charges entertained by a large part of the best and most intelligent of mankind against the Order are well-grounded, but at the same time account for their general acceptance; that acceptance marked sufficiently by the one clear fact that Jesuitism and kindred words have become part of the common language of Roman Catholic, as well as of Protestant countries. The work of M. Crétineau Joly is too incoherent and fragmentary, too much wanting in dignity and solidity, for a history; it is too heavy and prolix for an apology. It is a loose assemblage of materials, wrought in as they have occurred, as they have been furnished by the gradually increasing confidence of the Jesuits themselves, or have struck the author in the course of rambling and multifarious reading-of passages pressed into the service from all quarters, especially from Protestant writers, who may have deviated through candour, love of paradox, or the display of eloquence, into praises of the Jesuits; of long lists of illustrious names, which have never transpired beyond the archives of the Order-interminable lists in which the more distinguished among the foreign missionaries and martyrs, and the few who have achieved lasting fame as theologians or pulpit orators, historians, men of letters, or men of science, are lost, and can only be detected by patient patient examination; of elaborate vindications of all the acts the whole Order, and almost every individual member of it, with charges of ignorance, calumny, heresy, Jansenism, Gallicanism, Protestantism, Rationalism, Atheism, against all their adversaries. The History of the Company of Jesus' does not appear to us superior to the general mediocrity of those countless ultra-montanist histories, biographies, hagiographies, and treatises which have been teeming from the Parisian, and even the provincial press of France for the last few years, scarcely one of which, notwithstanding their mutual collaudations, has forced its way into the high places of French literature. Under these impressions, we might not have been disposed to linger long over this seventh or supplementary volume of Jesuit history from the same pen: but the following paragraph, in one of the earliest pages (p. 7), seized upon us like a spell. 'Nevertheless, when my labours were ended, I was appalled at my own work; for high above all those names which were conflicting against each other to their mutual shame and dishonour, there was one pre-eminent, which the Apostolic Throne seemed to shield with its inviolability. The highest dignitaries of the Church, to whom I have long vowed affectionate respect, entreated me not to rend the veil which concealed such a Pontificate from the eyes of men. The General of the Company of Jesus, who for so many and such powerful motives could not but take a deep interest in the disclosures which I was about to make, added his urgent remonstrances to those of some of the Cardinals. In the name of his Order, and in that of the Holy See, he implored me, with tears in his eyes, to renounce the publication of this history. They persuaded even the sovereign pontiff, Pius the Ninth, to interpose his wishes and his authority in support of their counsels and their remonstrances.' The good Catholic must have yielded, but the author was inexorable. In vain Cardinals implored; vain were the bursting tears of the General of the Company; vain was the judgment of Infallibility itself. The stern sense of justice, the rigid love of truth in an historian of the Jesuits, admitted no compromise, disdained all timid prudence, inflexibly rejected prayers, tears, commands. The hesitating printers were ordered to proceed-the irrevocable work went on. Shall we betray our want of charity if we suggest a further motive for this lofty determination? To us Reviewers, unhappily its most pitiable victims, and therefore endowed with a peculiar acuteness in discerning its workings, a new passion seems to have taken possession of the human heart, and to vie with those old and vulgar incentives, the love of fame, money, power, and pleasure. It partakes, to a certain degree, of some of these, but it surpasses them all in its intensity-we mean the love of book-making and of publishing books. Men have sacrificed |