Single individuals stand to the general historical development of humanity in the same relation as do detached stones, statues, corbels, spires, or weather-cocks to a building. The individual, in the eyes of the philosophical historian, has only so far an interest as he forms a link in the great chain of human activity; or one stone in the historical dome. The individual is the outgrowth of his times, his dwelling-place or country, the intellectual and social atmosphere in which he has been reared and nourished. In proposing to read a paper on Immanuel Kant, I did not intend to occupy your time with his private life, or little biographical notices of his character, but to place before you my objective views as to his influence on our mode of thinking as the basis of our modern history. I purpose to keep to the general principles which I laid down before you in my paper “On the Possibility of a strictly Scientific Treatment of Universal History” (see vol. III., Transactions of Royal Historical Society, page 380), and shall try to apply those principles in sketching the development of an individual in whom the static and dynamic forces working in humanity were well balanced. Kant, as philosopher, is merely a link in a long chain of mighty speculative and empirical or deductive and inductive thinkers, who serve to illustrate, that from the earliest times of the awakening consciousness of humanity man tried to bring about an understanding of the natural and intellectual phenomena surrounding him.

I Do not propose to enter upon the system of landholding in Scotland or Ireland, which appears to me to bear the stamp of the Celtic origin of the people, and which was preserved in Ireland long after it had disappeared in other European countries formerly inhabited by the Celts. That ancient race may be regarded as the original settlers of a large portion of the European continent, and its land system possesses a re-markable affinity to that of the Slavonic, the Hindoo, and even the New Zealand races. It was originally Patriarchal, and then Tribal, and was Communistic in its character.

On some ancient fragments are represented two or more historical sequences, forming together one picture, such as the scene of the temptation of Eve in conjunction with the expulsion from Paradise; and from these we may obtain an idea as to the tendency and power of the untutored mind to take an instantaneous many-sided view of the subject it contemplates, and it may assist us in realising that though our mental view is more extended and clearer than that of early races, yet it may also be much more limited in lateral range. That the educated mind does not assume power over the exercise of certain faculties, there can be no doubt; for this we have only to look into matters of everyday life: to see the unlettered mechanic guess, or, rather, instinctively calculate, the weight of materials; to hear the shopwoman, innocent of figures, total up her gains and losses, or enumerate her stock-in-trade with a rapidity and with a precision which could not be exceeded if all the appliances of science had been employed. And we again see it in the power which the Indian savage or European trapper possesses in tracking his way through the forest by signs and method of reasoning hardly intelligible to those whose minds are more cultivated.

The venerable relic which is the subject of this paper is a wooden cot (or cradle, as it has been called) of unquestionable antiquity, traditionally said to have been the cradle of the hero of Agincourt, the glory of Monmouth, Henry V.

Lambarde, in his “Topographical Dictionary,” speaking of the destruction of Monmouth Castle in the thirteenth century, writes: “Thus the glorie of Monmouth had cleane perished, ne had it pleased God longe after in that place to give life to the noble King Hen. V.” (“Alphabetical Description of the Chief Places in England and Wales,” by William Lambarde, first published in 1730). It may befit me, therefore, as an inhabitant of this town, to use my endeavour to preserve from perishing the memory of an object which tradition has associated with him who has given undying fame to my place of residence, and which for a period of many years has been lost to us. Tradition, of course, is not evidence. But where direct testimony is not to be obtained, and in the absence of authoritative contradiction, it must be accepted as of a certain weight and worth. It will generally be found to be built upon a substratum of fact, and although, in process of time, the groundwork is almost invariably distorted, it is rarely destroyed. Should there be nothing, then, but tradition to link this rare example of mediaeval furniture with the House of Plantagenet and the town of Monmouth, it would not, I opine, be beneath the notice of those whose professed aim is to classify the stores of the past and to preserve everything connected with those of our forefathers whose history is an honour to our land.

An inquiry into the life of George Wishart presented few attractions. Believing that he claimed the gift of prophecy, Mr Hill Burton describes him as “a visionary.” Mr Froude charges him with preaching without authority and with illegally assuming the priestly office. Professor Lorimer alleges that, in his early ministry, he denied the doctrine of the Atonement. Mr Tytler has sought to prove that he intended murder, by conspiring against the life of Cardinal Beaton. Having ventured on the elucidation of his history, I have investigated the charges brought against him, with care and, I trust, impartiality. The result will be found in these pages. Meanwhile I may summarise my deductions, and say that the martyr has, from the inquiry, come forth unstained. He did not claim prophetic powers; he preached with canonical sanction; he did not act as a priest or ordained clergyman; he taught the doctrine of the Atonement throughout his whole ministry; he did not conspire against Beaton, and if he knew of the conspiracy he condemned it.

Thereis nothing which contributes more fully to throw light on the manners and habits of a people, or more forcibly to exhibit to us the tone of thought which prevailed among them, than the rites and ceremonies that they adopted connected with their religion. And the wilder and more extravagant the superstitions which in such a nation prevailed, the more strikingly do they evince the tone of thought and feeling that animated the people. Potent everywhere, and under whatever phase, as was the influence of these notions, they served in each case to develop the whole mind and character of the nation; as each passion, and emotion, and faculty, were exerted to the very utmost on a subject of such surpassing interest to them all. Imagination here, relieved from all restraint, spread her wings and soared aloft, disporting herself in her wildest mood; and the remoter the period to which the history of any particular country reaches, and the more barbarous the condition in which the people existed, the more striking, and the more extraordinary to us, appear the superstitions by which they were influenced. Human nature is by this means developed to the full, all its energies are exerted to the utmost, and the internal machinery by which its movements are impelled, is stimulated to active operation. We gaze with wonder and with awe upon the spectacle thus exhibited. However involuntarily, we respect a people—misguided and erring as they were—whose eagerness to follow whatever their conscience prompted, urged them to impose such revolting duties on themselves; while we regard, with pity and with horror, those hideous exploits which were the fruit of that misguided zeal.

As Mayor of Bedford when the statue of John Bunyan, presented to that town by the Duke of Bedford, was lately inaugurated, I was led to devote some attention to the history of the great dreamer. During my investigations I was led to the conclusion that his biographers have fallen into some errors.

It is commonly stated that Bunyan was, about the year 1728, born at Elstow, a village near Bedford; this statement is certainly incorrect. He was born at Harrowden, a hamlet belonging to Cardington, a parish subsequently famous as the residence of the celebrated philanthropist, John Howard. The place is called Bunyan End, but it is now a ploughed field. It is not surprising that the mistake should have occurred, since the hamlet of Harrowden adjoins Elstow, and Bunyan, immediately after his marriage, occupied the cottage in the village which has been designated as his birth-place.

Thomas mulock was born in Ireland in 1789; not in the north of Ireland, as has been stated, but in or near Dublin, his father having possessed a country house not far distant from that city. His father was an Irishman, and held the official position of comptroller of the stamp-office. His mother was of Swiss extraction, a Miss Hörner, granddaughter of the Burgomaster of Bale, a tall and stately lady, to whose mental qualities Mr Mulock was more probably indebted for his great natural abilities than to his father, who, however, was a man of good business habits, and of a fine genial temperament. Thomas Mulock was the second of twenty-two children born to this happy pair. When assembled round the family table, they formed so large a company that Mr Mulock was accustomed to compare them, jocularly, to a public meeting.