y agglutination, and by figurative heightening of
meaning.

His work, accordingly, should be read by all sincere students of the
question of Language in connection with the statements of Professor
Mueller, as he represents another and a typical aspect of the case. He
denies the existence of a "Turanian" family of tongues, such as Mueller
sought to constitute in Bunsen's "Outlines"; pronouncing with great
decision, and on grounds both philosophical and linguistic, against that
notion of monosyllabic origin which assumes the Chinese as truest of all
tongues to the original form and genius of language, he is even more
decided that not the faintest trace can be found of the derivation of
all existing languages from a single primitive tongue. From general
principles, therefore, and equally from inspection of language, he
infers with confidence that each great family of languages has come
forth independently from the genius of man.

His results in Philology correspond, thus, with those of Mr. Agassiz in
Natural History. They suggest multiplicity of human origins. From this
result M. Renan does not recoil, and he takes care to state with great
precision and vigor the entire independence of the spiritual upon the
physical unity of man,--as Mr. Agassiz also did in that jewel which he
set in the head of Nott and Gliddon's toad.

But here he pauses. His results bear him no farther. The philological
and physiological classifications of mankind, he says, do not
correspond; their lines cross; nothing can be concluded from one to the
other. The question of unity or diversity of physical origins he leaves
to the naturalist; upon that he has no right to raise his voice.
Spiritual unity he asserts firmly; linguistic unity he firmly denies; on
the question of physical unity he remains modestly and candidly silent,
not finding in his peculiar studies data for a rational opinion.

M. Renan is not a Newton in his science. He satisfies, and he
disappoints. The Newtonian depth, centrality, and poise,--well, one may
still be a superior scholar and writer without these. And such he is.
His tendency to central principles is decided, but with this there is a
wavering, an unsteadiness, and you get only agility and good writing, it
may be, where you had begun to look for a final word. Sometimes, too, in
his desire of precision, he gives you precision indeed, but of a cheap
kind, which is worse than any _thoughtful_ vagueness. Thus, he opens his