; but he has no dreams of the advent of a religion of
reason. He ridicules the notion that truth will prevail: it never has
and it never will. At bottom he prefers paganism to Christianity because
it was tolerant and encouraged art, and allowed philosophers to enjoy as
much privilege as they can ever really enjoy--that of living in peace
and knowing that their neighbours are harmless fools. After a fashion he
likes his own version of Christianity, which is superficially that of
many popular preachers: Be tolerant, kindly, and happy, and don't worry
your head about dogmas, or become a slave to priests. But then one also
feels that humility is generally regarded as an essential part of
Christianity, and that in Landor's version it is replaced by something
like its antithesis. You should do good, too, as you respect yourself
and would be respected by men; but the chief good is the philosophic
mind, which can wrap itself in its own consciousness of worth, and enjoy
the finest pleasures of life without superstitious asceticism. Let the
vulgar amuse themselves with the playthings of their creed, so long as
they do not take to playing with faggots. Stand apart and enjoy your
own superiority with good-natured contempt.

One of his longest and, in this sense, most characteristic dialogues, is
that between Penn and Peterborough. Peterborough is the ideal aristocrat
with a contempt for the actual aristocracy; and Penn represents the
religion of common-sense. 'Teach men to calculate rightly and thou wilt
have taught them to live religiously,' is Penn's sentiment, and perhaps
not too unfaithful to the original. No one could have a more thorough
contempt for the mystical element in Quakerism than Landor; but he loves
Quakers as sober, industrious, easy-going people, who regard good-humour
and comfort as the ultimate aim of religious life, and who manage to do
without lawyers or priests. Peterborough, meanwhile, represents his
other side--the haughty, energetic, cultivated aristocrat, who, on the
ground of their common aversions, can hold out a friendly hand to the
quiet Quaker. Landor, of course, is both at once. He is the noble who
rather enjoys giving a little scandal at times to his drab-suited
companion; but, on the whole, thinks that it would be an excellent world
if the common people would adopt this harmless form of religion, which
tolerates other opinions and does not give any leverage to kings,
insolvent aristocrats, or intri