ing life shall unfold in time a form still higher. On the Darwinian principle, the argument of the Apostle is irresistible: "If there is a natural body there is also a spiritual body." Of course, we know that a continuance of the evolution is not identical in terms with a survival of the conscious personality. It is, however, auxiliary to the argument for such survival, a new cord, and a strong one, in the strand of that argument as at present constituted. We wish to emphasize the fact, that science has supplied this helpful though unnecessary confirmation of the Christian hope, whose grand argument must still be found in that one manifestly indestructible Life, of which only the credulity of a despairing skepticism can say:

"The forces that were Christ

Have ta'en new forms and fled;

The common sun goes up;

The dead are with the dead.

'T was but a phantom life

That seemed to think and will,

Evolving self and God

By some subjective skill;

That had its day of passage hither,

But knew no whence and knows no whither."

For this latest testimony of science to the reasonableness of the Christian hope, we have to thank the illustrious scientist, who has just risen from a well-rounded life of patient fidelity to truth into the realization of the great coming change. The relation which his scientific views may have assumed toward special Christian doctrines, in his own way of thinking, can not impair the benefit which they may render to Christianity as well as to theism in the thinking of others. The words which the venerable burial service of the Church of England uttered over his grave in that historic abbey may through his labors flash into some bewildered minds a clearer conviction of a divine reality. "Behold, I show you a mystery. We shall all be changed. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality."

ARTICLE V.-THE PRESERVATION OF THE CLASSIC TEXTS.

THE theory of the struggle for existence and survival of the fittest may perhaps find some illustrations outside of the animal kingdom. Ideas and books have had their battles to fight; and in the progress of letters we find that not simply individuals have perished, but that whole species have become extinct. Words, thoughts, and books which have no vital mission to fulfill struggle through a brief existence and then disappear. The Roman historian speaks with contempt of the impotent malignity of the 12th Cæsar who thought that by banishing the Philosophers and burning their books he could destroy the liberty and the common knowledge of mankind. In this age the destruction of a book is almost impossible. The Index Expurgatorius might prohibit them; councils might condemn them. They might be sought out and gathered up and burned; but they have seemed to be endowed with an indestructible life. During the early history of the Reformation a little book was published on "the benefits of the death of Christ," setting forth evangelical and decidedly anti-Romish views upon that subject. The book was marked for destruction. It was bought up wherever it was possible to do so. Spies were set upon its track. The power of an organized hierarchy and the dread of the Inquisition were brought to bear upon each and all who should be guilty of possessing it, and it was finally supposed and believed that the edition was completely extinguished. Many years after, when the dread of violence was past, one or more copies which had survived the crusade were found. The book was reprinted and is now

not difficult to find.

In earlier days or at any time previous to the invention of . printing, it is easy to see that the hold which a book had upon life must have been much more frail, and that the possibility of the entire disappearance of certain works might not unnaturally be apprehended. When for any reason the hostility of

the government was aroused against a book we might almost regard it doomed to destruction. Tacitus in his Annals (iv. 34) gives an account of the prosecution of Cremutius Cordus because, in an historical work, he had called Cassius "the last of the Romans." The historian was condemned and the Senate voted that his books should be burned by the Ediles. "But," adds Tacitus, "they survived in secret and were afterwards produced. So that we may laugh at the folly of those who think that by present power the memory of the following age can be destroyed. Literary genius when persecuted gains the greater authority. Nor have tyrants who have resorted to these cruel measures gained anything but dishonor for themselves and glory for their victims."

The crusade against the writings of Protagorus may perhaps have been more successful. His philosophical writings were regarded as favorable to impiety; he fell under a charge of atheism and was banished from Attica, while his writings were diligently sought out and publicly burned.

But we must not undervalue the number nor the multiplication of books and consequently the hold which a book had upon life, even in those early centuries. The Greeks and Romans were men of intense literary activity. They had large private libraries, and their public libraries were on a vast scale. They were, many of them, most prolific writers; and compared with them, most active literary men of modern days must feel as the younger Pliny said he felt toward his uncle: "Compared with him," said he, "I am an idler and a sluggard." They wrote unceasingly, at home or abroad, journeying or at rest; and even in the bath, with at diligence which was pedantic and ludicrous, some of them would dictate to a scribe who was always at hand. When the younger Pliny went hunting he took his writing tablets with him, "so that," said he, "in case I brought back an empty game bag I might at least bring full tablets." The elder Pliny rose at two o'clock, at one o'clock, often at midnight, to resume his studies. When he walked, it was with a book in his hand; when he journeyed, it was with a secretary, who could write short hand, at his side.

Not only did these men of letters produce with great rapid

ity, but they were collectors of books with a zeal which was omniverous and passionate. Cicero in his letters to Atticus urges him again and again to send him books. He charges him to be constantly on the watch and to lose no opportunity of making such purchases. It became the prevailing fashion at Rome that every house should have its handsomely furnished library; and even the ignorant, in order to appear studious and literary, conformed to this custom. In the time of Cicero the library was as essential to the completeness of the house as the eating or sleeping rooms. Such men as Cæsar, Crassus, Cicero, Asinius Pollio, and Lucullus, were widely known for the value and beauty of their collections of books. Asinius Pollio, a man of refined literary tastes-poet, dramatist, and historian- was the first to found a public library in Rome. Cæsar had in view a great scheme of this kind, which was defeated by his death. Several similar projects were carried out by succeeding emperors, the best known of which was the famous Ulpian Library founded by the Emperor Trajan. Claudius in his stupid way was himself an author and man of letters and encouraged literary pursuits. Vespasian imitated his example. Domitian rebuilt at great expense the libraries which had been destroyed during the civil wars, and even sent men to Alexandria to study the best plans for such buildings. We have barely the names of several libraries in Rome, though nothing is known as to the extent or value of their collections. Gellius mentions the "Bibliotheca Græca et Latina" in the Forum of Trajan; the "Bibliotheca Græca et Latina" in the Temple of Palatine Apollo; the "Bibliotheca of the Palace of Tiberius;" the "Bibliotheca of the Temple of Peace;" the "Bibliotheca Patrensis," the "Bibliotheca Tiburtina in Templo Herculis."

There was no dearth, therefore, either in the production or collection of books at Rome. Scribes were regularly employed to multiply copies of particular works. In the third century the Emperor Tacitus, who was proud of deriving his descent from the historian of the same name, gave orders that ten copies of that historian should be annually made and deposited in the public libraries. The younger Pliny expresses his surprise at the fact that there was a book-store at Lyons, and

his pleasure at hearing that his own compositions were for sale there among the latest publications of the trade at Rome. "Some curious calculations have been made to show that the rapidity with which copies could be multiplied by hand from dictation was little less than that of printing. It is not impossible that a limited number of copies, a hundred for instance, could be written off quicker in this way, in the librarian's work-shop, than a single one could be set up in type by the printer. This of course supposes the employment of a multitude of scribes; but these were slaves, cheaply purchased and maintained at little cost. The exceedingly low price of books at Rome, if we may take the poem of a popular author as an example, show that the labor must have been much less or much cheaper than we imagine." (Merivale, vi. 184.)

If the foregoing remarks give anything like a fair idea of the state of letters in the ancient world, it is evident that a vast number of classical works have in some way been lost. They have not come down to us, and have never, within modern times, been known to have any existence. Orations, poems, dramas, histories, have perished almost without number; and though it may be true that the most valuable portions of antiquity have been preserved to us, yet it is undoubtedly but the merest fragment of what once existed. We have but slight specimens of the works of even the best known Latin authors. Of the elder Pliny we have, it is true, the elaborate and learned work upon natural history, which of itself is enough to be a lasting monument to his learning and industry. Yet aside from this he wrote a work on cavalry tactics, two volumes of biography, a thorough work in six volumes on the orator, a grammatical treatise in eight books, entitled Dubii Sermonis, a history of his own times in thirty-one books, besides delivering orations and pleading causes. So of the comedies of Plautus and of the orations and treatises of Cicero, we must believe that we have but a part and perhaps a very small part. Not only have vast numbers of volumes thus utterly perished, so that we have never known of them at all, or only by name; but many of the works which have come down to us are by no means complete. They are in a fragmentary state. Whole books have disappeared, and many of