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diff --git a/25047-h/25047-h.htm b/25047-h/25047-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..80db87d --- /dev/null +++ b/25047-h/25047-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10465 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project = +Gutenberg eBook of Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 55 No. 343, May, 1844 by Various + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + div.centered {text-align: center;} /* work around for IE centering with CSS problem part 1 */ + div.centered table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;} /* work around for IE centering with CSS problem part 2 */ + + + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .right {text-align: right;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .notes {background-color: #eeeeee; color: #000; padding: .5em; + margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:25%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i18 {display: block; margin-left: 9em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine - Volume 55, +No. 343, May 1844, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine - Volume 55, No. 343, May 1844 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: April 11, 2008 [EBook #25047] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE, MAY 1844 *** + + + + +Produced by Brendan OConnor, Patricia Bennett, Jonathan +Ingram and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Library of Early +Journals.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + + + + + + + +<h1>BLACKWOOD'S</h1> + +<h1>EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.</h1> + +<h2>No. CCCXLIII. MAY, 1844. VOL. LV.</h2> + + +<p class="notes">Transcriber's notes: Minor typos have been corrected. Table of contents has been +generated for HTML version. Footnotes have been moved to the end of the articles.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>Contents</h2> + + + +<div class='centered'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" width="85%" cellspacing="0" summary="CONTENTS"> +<tr><td align='left'>IMPRISONMENT AND TRANSPORTATION, NO. 1. THE INCREASE OF CRIME</td><td align='right'><a href="#IMPRISONMENT_AND_TRANSPORTATION">533</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>RHINE AND RHINELANDERS</td><td align='right'><a href="#RHINE_AND_RHINELANDERS">546</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE MONSTER-MISERY OF LITERATURE. BY A MOUSE BORN OF THE MOUNTAIN</td><td align='right'><a href="#THE_MONSTER-MISERY_OF_LITERATURE">556</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MARSTON; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A STATESMAN. PART XI.</td><td align='right'><a href="#MARSTON_OR_THE_MEMOIRS_OF_A_STATESMAN">561</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>INDIAN AFFAIRS--GWALIOR</td><td align='right'><a href="#INDIAN_AFFAIRS_GWALIOR">579</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE FREETHINKER</td><td align='right'><a href="#THE_FREETHINKER">593</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE SNOW. BY DELTA</td><td align='right'><a href="#THE_SNOW">617</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>LOVE IN THE WILDERNESS</td><td align='right'><a href="#LOVE_IN_THE_WILDERNESS">620</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>IRELAND--THE LANDLORD AND TENANT QUESTION</td><td align='right'><a href="#IRELAND_THE_LANDLORD_AND_TENANT_QUESTION">638</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan="2"><a href="#MAP"><b>MAP OF AFRICA</b></a></td></tr> + + + +</table></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + +<h2><a name="IMPRISONMENT_AND_TRANSPORTATION" id="IMPRISONMENT_AND_TRANSPORTATION"></a>IMPRISONMENT AND TRANSPORTATION.</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_533" id="Page_533">[Pg 533]</a></span></p> + +<h3>NO. 1.</h3> + +<h3>THE INCREASE OF CRIME.</h3> + + +<p>Among the many causes of anxiety which the present state of society in +the British empire must occasion to every thoughtful or reflecting +mind—one of the most extraordinary and alarming is, the <i>constant and +uninterrupted increase of crime</i>. The Liberals shut their eyes to this, +because it affords a sad illustration of the effect of their favourite +theories, which for a quarter of a century have been, under the +direction of his Majesty's Ministry or his Majesty's Opposition, in +almost ceaseless operation. The selfish and inconsiderate (and they form +the vast majority of men) give themselves no sort of trouble about the +matter: they care not though their neighbours are murdered or robbed, +plundered or swindled, so as they escape unscathed themselves; and +without either thinking on the subject, or suggesting one remedy for its +evils, interfere only, with stentorian lungs, to resist any project to +arrest them having the remotest tendency to terminate in an assessment. +Their principle is to take of civilisation only its fruits, and steadily +to withstand the concomitant evils; and the simple way by which they +think this is to be effected—is quietly, and without saying a word, to +reap the benefit of manufacturing industry in the doubling or tripling +of their incomes; but to roar out like madmen if the smallest per +centage is proposed to be laid on them, to arrest or mitigate the evils +which that industry brings in its train. Government meanwhile, albeit +fully aware of the danger, is not sufficiently strong to do any thing to +avert it; its own majority is paralysed by the inherent selfishness of +mankind; and nothing but some great and stunning public calamity can, it +is universally felt, awaken the country to a sense of the evils growing +out of its greatness, but threatening in the end to endanger its +existence. Thus nothing is done, or at least nothing effectual is done, +to avert the dangers: every one shuts his eyes to them, or opens them +only to take measures to avert an assessment; and meanwhile crime +advances with the steps of a giant, sweeping whole classes of society +into its vortex, and threatening to spread corruption and vice, in an +incredible manner, through the densest and most dangerous classes of the +community.</p> + +<p>Authentic and irrefragable evidence of the magnitude of this danger +exists in the statistical tables of committals which have now, for a +very considerable time, been prepared in all parts of the British +empire. Since the year 1805, when regular tables of commitments first +began to be kept in England, commitments have increased <i>sixfold</i>: they +have swelled <i>from five to thirty-one thousand</i>. During the same period +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_534" id="Page_534">[Pg 534]</a></span> +population has advanced about sixty per cent: in other words, detected +crime has advanced FOUR TIMES AS FAST AS THE NUMBERS OF THE PEOPLE. +Unwilling as we are to load our pages with statistical tables—which, +attractive to the thinking few, are repulsive to the unthinking many—we +must yet request our readers to cast their eyes to the bottom of the +pages, where these appalling truths are demonstrated by the +parliamentary returns. In Scotland and Ireland the returns of +commitments have not been kept, until within the last twenty years, with +such accuracy as can be relied on; but they exhibit an increase still +more alarming. Ireland, as might be expected, exhibits a growth of crime +which has fully kept pace with that of England during the same period: +but Scotland exhibits a change which fairly outstrips all the others in +the race of iniquity. In 1803, Lord Advocate Hope said in Parliament, +that more crime was tried at one Quarter Sessions at Manchester than +over all Scotland in a whole year; and the proceedings of the criminal +courts to the north of the Tweed, at that period, amply demonstrated the +truth of his assertion. In the year 1805, eighty-nine criminals were +brought before the whole tribunals, supreme and inferior, in Scotland; +but in the year 1842, the committals for serious offences were nearly +four thousand—in other words, serious crime, in less than forty years, +had augmented in Scotland above THIRTY-SIX FOLD. During the same period +population has advanced about fifty per cent, viz. from 1,800,000 to +2,660,000; so that in moral, staid, and religious Scotland, serious +crime, during the last forty years, has risen TWENTY-FIVE TIMES as fast +as the number of the people.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> + +<p>Overlooked as this prodigious change has been, as all things are which +arise gradually in this country, it has yet attracted, as well it might, +the astonishment of writers on the Continent. Nine yeas ago, M. Moreau +observed, speaking of the increase of crime in Scotland—"In the year +1805, the criminal commitments in Scotland were eighty-nine: they are +now 2864—that is, they have increased in thirty years thirty-fold. It +would appear that Scotland, in becoming a manufacturing state, has in a +great degree lost the virtue and simplicity of character by which she +was formerly distinguished."<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p> + +<p>What renders this prodigious increase of crime in so short a period, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_535" id="Page_535">[Pg 535]</a></span> +in all parts of the British Empire, in a peculiar manner extraordinary +and alarming, is, that it has taken place at the very time when +unheard-of efforts were made, in every part of the country, for the +moral and religious instruction of the people. We are very far indeed +from saying that enough has been done in this way: no one is better +aware that the vast debt, which the prosperous wealth of Britain owes in +this respect to its suffering indigence, is still in great part +undischarged, and that till it is taken up and put on a proper footing +<i>by the state</i>, it never can be completely liquidated;—still, more has +been done to discharge it during the last thirty years, than in the +whole previous centuries which have elapsed since the Reformation. The +churches of England and Scotland, during that period, have improved to +an astonishing degree in vigour and efficiency: new life, a warmer +spirit, a holier ambition, has been breathed into the Establishment; the +dissenters of all denominations have vied with them in zeal and +effort; churches and chapels have been built and opened in every +direction; and though they have by no means, in the manufacturing +districts, kept pace with the increase of population, yet they have +advanced with a rapidity hitherto unheard of in British history. The +laity of all denominations have made extraordinary efforts to promote +the cause of education. In this great and good work, persons of all +descriptions have, though from very different motives, laboured +together; but much remains to be done. We well know how many tens and +hundreds of thousands, in the manufacturing districts, are now wandering +in worse than heathen darkness in the midst of a Christian land;—we +well know what insurmountable obstacles mere voluntary zeal and exertion +meet with in the most praiseworthy efforts, from the selfish resistance +of property and the reckless dissipation of indigence. But still, no one +acquainted with the subject can deny, that during the last thirty years, +incomparably more has been done to promote education among the poor than +in the preceding three centuries. Yet this period of anxious solicitude, +awakened fear, and general effort to stem, by all the known methods, the +deluge of profligacy and depravity with which the country has been +flooded, has been characterized by an increase of crime, and a general +loosening of morals among the labouring classes, hitherto unprecedented +in the country—certainly not equaled during the same period in any +other European state, and, so far as we know, without an example in the +previous history of mankind.</p> + +<p>Struck with astonishment at this extraordinary and painful phenomenon, +and wholly at a loss to explain it on any of the principles to which +they have been accustomed to give credit, the Liberals have generally +endeavoured to deny its existence. They say that the returns of +commitments do not afford a correct measure of the crime that really +exists in the country; that a police force is now more generally +established, and is incomparably more vigilant than heretofore; that +crimes are classified in a different way from what they formerly were; +and that though the figures do not err, yet the results to which they +point are not the real ones. There is some truth in these observations. +It is true that a police force is more extensively established, and is +more efficient than it formerly was;—it is true that crimes are now +differently classified, and enter different columns, and appear in +different returns from what they formerly did;—it is true that there +are specialties in the case;—but it is not true that those specialties +tend to make the returns of crime appear greater than the reality; on +the contrary, they all tend the other way. They show that the returns as +now constructed, and the police force as it at present exists, do not by +any means exhibit the growth of crime in its true colours; that it is in +reality <i>incomparably greater</i> than these returns or this agency has +brought to light; and that, great as the evil appears from an +examination of the Parliamentary returns, it is in truth far more +colossal and alarming.</p> + +<p>How is a police force established in any part of Great Britain? If we +except the metropolis, where the vast concourse from all parts of the +empire unavoidably forced upon government, fourteen years ago, the +establishment of a central police, since found to be attended with such +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_536" id="Page_536">[Pg 536]</a></span> +admirable effects, it is every where set on foot by the <i>voluntary act</i> +of the inhabitants, or a certain portion of them, in a peculiar manner +cognizant of the necessity which exists for such an addition to the +means of public defence. In boroughs, it is generally the magistrates, +elected by a suffrage little superior to household suffrage, who +introduce such a measure. In counties, it can only be proposed by the +justices of peace in England, or commissioners of supply in +Scotland—both of which bodies are thoroughly imbued with, and fairly +represent, the general voice of the community. In all cases, whether in +the metropolis or in the provinces, a police imposes <i>an immediate and +heavy burden on all householders</i>. In London £40,000 a-year is given by +government to aid in the support of the police; but the whole remainder +of the cost, amounting to four times as much, falls on the ratepayers. +In the provinces the whole cost of every police force falls on the +householders; and our readers need not be told how heavy it sometimes +is, and how universally it is every where complained of.</p> + +<p>Now, if there is any one peculiarity more than another by which this +generation is distinguished, it is aversion to assessment. People may +differ in other respects as to the designation by which the age should +be characterized; but we believe all will agree that it is a <i>tax-hating +age</i>. What did this nation first do on being liberated from danger by +the battle of Waterloo? Throw off the income-tax. What alone induced +them to submit to it again on the modified scale of three per cent? The +disasters in Affghanistan; the perils of our Indian empire; the rocking +of Britain to its foundation. When therefore, in such a country and in +such an age, we see numerous bodies of men—popularly elected in some +cases, in all swayed by the popular voice—concurring, in a great many +places, in the taxation of themselves for the establishment of a police, +we may rely upon it that some very general and grinding sense of +necessity has been at work to produce the effect. Nothing but this could +overcome, in men really and practically invested in this particular with +the power of self-government, the universal and almost invincible +repugnance to assessments. Rely upon it, for every crime which is +brought to light, and made the subject of commitment and trial by the +institution of a police force, ten previously existed, undetected and +unpunished, before men were driven to the <i>flebile remedium</i>, the +<i>ultimum malum</i>, of taxing themselves for the establishment of a force +to repress them.</p> + +<p>To illustrate the strength of this resistance, and the important bearing +it has upon the present question, we shall refer only to two +instances—one in England, and one in Scotland. It is well known what a +scene of confusion and disorder South Wales has for years past been. The +bloodshed at Merthyr-Tydvil, the strikes in Glamorganshire, the attack +on Newport, and the Rebecca riots, had for a series of years fixed the +attention of all parts of the empire upon this, as one of the most +inflammable and dangerous portions of the community. Nor did these +disorders appear surprising to those who were practically acquainted +with the state of the country, overrun as it is in many places by vast +iron-works, which have brought together a great and reckless population, +and inhabited in all by a discontented and ill-instructed peasantry. +Population had advanced with unexampled rapidity—having increased, from +1831 to 1841, <i>thirty-six and a tenth</i> per cent in Monmouthshire; the +greatest increase during the same period of any county in the British +empire.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> Here then, if anywhere, it might have been expected that a +general feeling of insecurity, the sense of an overbearing necessity, +would have overcome the general repugnance of men towards local +assessment, and led to the establishment of a police force in all the +counties of South Wales, on a scale adequate to the magnitude of the +danger with which they were threatened. Was it so? Had the counties +taken the requisite steps to avoid the calamity? Quite the reverse; the +aversion to a police assessment was so strong, that nothing whatever +had been done. Glamorganshire had only established one on a small scale, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_537" id="Page_537">[Pg 537]</a></span> +after repeated and earnest efforts on the part of its able and +public-spirited lord-lieutenant, the Marquis of Bute; and the Rebecca +riots surprised the adjoining counties without any preparation whatever. +And even after those disgraceful disorders had continued several weeks, +and rendered South Wales the scandal of the empire, and the astonishment +of Europe; still the repugnance to assessment was such, that it was only +after a severe struggle, and by no small exertions, that it was at +length carried; and the public-spirited member for the county, who to +his infinite credit brought forward the measure, stated at the county +meeting on the subject, that he was aware he endangered his seat by so +doing!</p> + +<p>The Scotch have shown themselves not a whit behind their southern +compatriots in repugnance to a police assessment. In Lanarkshire, as it +is well known, the iron and coal trades have made unexampled progress +during the last ten years. Its population, in consequence, has +enormously increased; having risen from 316,000 to 434,000 in ten years, +from 1831 to 1841—an increase of thirty-six per cent in that short +time—the next to Monmouthshire of the whole empire. Crime had, of +course, enormously increased. In 1835, the committals for serious +offences were 401: in 1842, they had risen to 696—being an increase of +seventy-five per cent in seven years.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> Serious crime, therefore, so +far as detected, was doubling in ten years, while population was +doubling in thirty—in other words, detected crime was increasing <i>three +times as fast as the numbers of the people</i>. Disturbances, as a matter +of course, of a very serious nature had arisen. In 1837, the great +cotton-spinners' conspiracy, which led to the memorable trial, had kept +above twenty thousand persons in Lanarkshire, for four months, in a +state of compulsory destitution. In 1842, the colliers' strike threw a +still greater number into a state of idleness for five months, which led +to a general system of plunder, and forcible seizure of the farmers' +produce in the fields; only repressed, with infinite difficulty, by the +introduction of a large military force, aided by the yeomanry of the +county, who were on permanent duty for six weeks, and the establishment +for a few months, by subscription, of a powerful police. In October +1842, twenty policemen, who had some prisoners in charge for combination +offences, were assaulted by a furious mob of two thousand persons on the +streets of Airdrie, in the centre of the mining district of the county, +the house in which they had taken refuge set on fire, and the prisoners +by main force rescued from the hands of the law.<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> These facts were +known to the whole county, and the terror which, in consequence, +pervaded the agricultural inhabitants of the mining districts was so +great, that in a petition to government praying for protection, they +stated—that they would be better if law were altogether abolished, and +every man were allowed to defend himself by fire-arms, than they were +now; for that, if they used lethal weapons in defence of their property, +they ran the risk of being transported for culpable homicide—if they +did not, they were certain of being plundered by the combined workmen. +And what did the county do to arrest this disgraceful and perilous +system of outrage and plunder? Why, in the full knowledge of all these +facts, they passed a solemn resolution at Lanark, on 30th April 1843, +that <i>they never would again, on any occasion, or under any +circumstances of necessity whatever, sanction the employment of any +police or defensive force raised at their expense</i>.</p> + +<p>We do not suppose that the inhabitants of South Wales or the banks of +the Clyde are particularly short-sighted or selfish, or more inclined to +resist assessment for objects of public utility or necessity than those +of other parts of the empire. On the contrary, we know that they are in +a remarkable degree the reverse; and that in no part of the world are +undertakings in public improvement or charity entered into with more +alacrity, and supported with more liberality. We suppose the Scotch and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_538" id="Page_538">[Pg 538]</a></span> +Welsh are what other men are—neither better nor worse. We adduce these +facts, not as tending to fasten any peculiar charge on them, but as +indicating the general character of human nature, and the universal +repugnance to taxation, which, when men are really and practically, and +not in form only, invested with the power of self-government, appears +the moment that any proposition of subjecting them to assessment for the +purpose of local defence and protection, even under the most aggravating +circumstances, is brought forward. How great, then, must have been the +mass of experienced, but undetected and unpunished, crime which pervades +the state, when this all but invincible repugnance has been generally +overcome, and men in so many cities and counties have been induced to +submit to the certainty of the visit of the tax-gatherer, rather than +the chance of a visit from the thief or the burglar!</p> + +<p>And for decisive evidence that the new establishment of a police force +is not, by the crimes which it is the means of binging to light, the +cause of the prodigious increase of crime of late years in the British +empire, we refer to the contemporary examples of two other countries, in +which a police force on a far more extensive scale has been established, +and has been found the means of effecting a signal <i>diminution</i> of crime +and commitment. In Hindostan, as is well known, a most extensive and +admirably organized system of police has been found absolutely +indispensable to repress the endless robberies of which its fertile +plains had long been the theatre; and the force employed, permanently or +occasionally, in this way amounts to <i>a hundred and sixty thousand</i>! The +consequence has been a <i>diminution</i> of crime and commitments, during the +last forty years, fully as remarkable as this simultaneous increase in +the British islands. The official reports which have been compiled in +India by the British authorities, exhibit of late years the pleasing +prospect of a decrease of serious crime to a third or fourth part of its +former amount.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p> + +<p>Look at France during the same period. That there is in that great +country a numerous and well-organized police force, will not probably be +denied by those who know any thing, either of its present circumstances +by observation, or its past from history. Unlike Great Britain, it is +universally established and raised, not by separate acts of Parliament, +local effort, and contribution, but by a <i>general</i> assessment, under the +name of "Centimes Additionels," yet varying in particular districts, +according to the necessity and amount of the defensive force, but, in +all, imposed by the authority and levied by the officers of government. +And what has been the result? Is it that crime, from being generally +brought to light, evinces the same steady and alarming increase which is +conspicuous in all parts of the British islands? Quite the reverse: +criminal law and a powerful system of police appear there in their true +light, as checking and deterring from crime. Population is advancing +steadily though slowly in that country, crime is stationary or +declining;<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> and while the most powerful and efficient police in Europe +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_539" id="Page_539">[Pg 539]</a></span> +only bring to light about 7000 serious criminals annually out of +34,000,000 souls—that is, 1 in 6700—in Great Britain, out of a +population, including England and Scotland, of 18,000,000 in round +numbers, there were in 1842 no less than 34,800 persons charged with +serious crimes before the criminal tribunals, or 1 in 514—in other +words, serious crime is <i>fourteen times</i> as prevalent in Great Britain +as it is in France. Nothing can more clearly demonstrate the deplorable +fallacy of those who ascribe the present extraordinary frequency and +uninterrupted growth of crime in this country, as attested by the +criminal returns, to the vigilance of the police in bringing it to +light.</p> + +<p>In truth, so far from its being the case that crime is now better looked +after, and therefore more frequently brought to light than formerly, and +that it is that which swells our criminal returns, the fact is directly +the reverse. So weak, feeble, and disjointed, are the efforts of our +various multiform and unconnected police establishments over the country +generally,<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> that we assert, without the fear of contradiction by any +person practically acquainted with the subject, that the amount of +undetected and unpunished crime is rapidly on the increase, and is now +greater than it was in any former period. We would recommend any person +who doubts this statement, to go to any of the criminal establishments +in the country, and compare the list of informations of serious crimes +lodged with those of offenders committed; he will find the latter are +scarcely ever so much as a third of the former. These facts do not +appear in the criminal returns, because they are not called for; and the +police-officers are in no hurry to publish facts which proclaim the +insufficiency of the means of repressing crime at their disposal. But +occasionally, and under the pressure of immediate danger, or a strong +sense of duty on the part of the public functionaries, they do come out. +For example, it was stated by Mr Millar, the head of the Glasgow police, +(a most able and active officer,) in a letter read at the county meeting +of Lanarkshire on 21st January 1843, on the subject of a police for the +rural district of that and the adjoining counties, that in the three +months immediately preceding that date, <i>ninety-one</i> cases of theft, +chiefly by housebreaking, had been reported at the Glasgow +police-office, committed in the neighbourhood of Glasgow, but beyond the +police bounds; and that from his own information, and that of the other +officers of his establishment, this number, great as it was, was not <i>a +third</i> of the crimes of that description which had actually been +committed during that period. On the other hand, it was stated by the +sheriff of the county at the same meeting, that in only fourteen of +these ninety-one cases had any trace whatever been got of the +delinquents. In other words, the number of instances in which any clue +was obtained to the criminals was only fourteen out of 273, or <i>one in +twenty nearly</i>. And yet this miserable driblet of one in twenty, +exhibits in the criminal returns for Lanarkshire an increase of 75 <i>per +cent</i> in seven years, or a duplication in ten. This instance, to which +hundreds of others might be added from all parts of the country, shows +how extreme is the illusion of those who lay the flattering unction to +their souls, that serious crime is not now more prevalent than it was +formerly, but only better brought to light.</p> + +<p>In truth, it has long been known, that in consequence of the relaxation +of the severity of our criminal code, and the astonishing increase of +serious crimes which cannot be passed over, a vast number of criminals +are now disposed of in the police courts, and never appear in the +criminal returns at all, who, twenty years ago, were deemed felons of +the very highest class, and visited often with death, always with +transportation. It was stated in parliament as a subject of complaint +against the Lancashire magistrates, that during the insurrection of 1842 +in that county, nearly ten thousand persons were imprisoned, and let go +after a short confinement, without ever being brought to trial. During +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_540" id="Page_540">[Pg 540]</a></span> +the disturbances in the same year, in Lanarkshire and many other +counties of Scotland, (especially Ayrshire, Fife, and Mid-Lothian,) the +accumulation of prisoners was so great, that not only were none detained +for trial but those against whom the evidence was altogether conclusive; +but that great numbers were remitted for trial before the summary +tribunals, and escaped with a month or two of imprisonment, who had +committed capital crimes, and a few years before would infallibly have +been transported for fourteen years. We are getting on so fast, that +nothing is more common now than to see hardened criminals, both in +England and Scotland, disposed of by the police magistrates, and for +capital crimes receive a few months imprisonment. Their names and crimes +never appear in the returns at all. There is no fault attached to any +one for this seeming laxity. The thing is unavoidable. If the class of +cases were all sent to the higher tribunals which formerly were +considered privative to them, the judges, were they twice as numerous as +they are, would sit in the criminal courts from one year's end to +another, and the jails would still be choked up with untried criminals, +numbers of whom would linger for years in confinement.</p> + +<p>The Liberal party, in the beginning of the present century, were +unanimous in imputing the vast increase of crime to the defects of our +criminal law. The nominal severity of that system, it was said, and said +justly, with its uncertain punishments and frequent opportunities of +escape, afforded in fact a bounty on the commission of crime. Injured +parties declined to give information for fear of being bound over to +prosecute; witnesses were reluctant to give evidence, judges caught at +legal quibbles, juries violated their oaths, in order to save the +accused from a punishment which all felt was disproportioned to the +offence; and thus the great object of criminal jurisprudence, certainty +of punishment, was entirely defeated. There was much truth in these +observations, but much fallacy in the hope that their removal would +effect any reduction in the number of offences. The object sought for +was carried. Humane principles were triumphant. The labours of Sir +Samuel Romilly and Sir James Mackintosh, aided by the cautious wisdom +and experienced ability of Sir R. Peel, produced a total revolution in +our criminal jurisprudence. The old stain has been removed: we need no +longer fear a comparison With the laws of Draco. For the last fifteen +years so many offences, formerly capital, have had that dreadful penalty +removed, that the law in Great Britain, as now practically administered, +is probably the mildest in Europe. Death is scarce ever inflicted except +for murder; in cases of housebreaking, even when attended with personal +violence, it is never thought of. The executions in Great Britain now +range from twenty-five to thirty-five only a-year, instead of a hundred +and fifty or two hundred, which they formerly were. And what has been +the result? Has the promised and expected diminution of crime taken +place, in consequence of the increased certainty of punishment, and the +almost total removal of all reasonable or conscientious scruples at +being concerned in a prosecution? Quite the reverse. The whole +prophecies and anticipations of the Liberal school have been falsified +by the result. Crime, so far from declining, has signally increased; and +its progress has never been so rapid as during the last fifteen years, +when the lenity of its administration has been at its maximum. An +inspection of the returns of serious crimes already given, will +completely demonstrate this.</p> + +<p>Next, it was said, that education would lay the axe to the root of +crime; that ignorance was the parent of vice; and, by diffusing the +school-master, you would extinguish the greater part of the wickedness +which afflicted society; that the providing of cheap, innocent, and +elevating amusements for the leisure hours of the working-classes, would +prove the best antidote to their degrading propensities; and that then, +and then only, would crime really be arrested, when the lamp of +knowledge burned in every mechanic's workshop, in every peasant's +cottage. The idea was plausible, it was seducing, it was amiable; and +held forth the prospect of general improvement of morals from the +enlarged culture of mind. The present generation is generally, it may +almost be said universally, imbued with these opinions; and the efforts +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_541" id="Page_541">[Pg 541]</a></span> +accordingly made for the instruction of the working-classes during the +last twenty-five years, have been unprecedented in any former period of +our history. What have been the results? Has crime declined in +proportion to the spread of education? Are the best instructed classes +the least vicious? Has eating of the fruit of the tree of knowledge +diminished the power of the Tempter? So far from it, the consequences, +hitherto at least, have been melancholy and foreboding in the extreme.</p> + +<p>The criminal returns of Great Britain and Ireland for the last twenty +years, demonstrate that the uneducated criminals are about a third of +the whole: in other words, the educated criminals are to the uneducated +as two to one.<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> In Scotland, the educated criminals, are about <i>four +times</i> the uneducated; in England, just double; in Ireland, they are +nearly equal. Nay, what is still more remarkable, while the number of +uneducated criminals, especially in Scotland, is yearly diminishing, +that of educated ones is yearly increasing.<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> In France, the criminal +returns have for long demonstrated that the amount of crime, in all the +eighty-four departments of the monarchy, is just in proportion to the +number of educated persons which each contains; a fact the more +remarkable, as three-fifths of the whole inhabitants of the country have +received no education whatever.<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> Of the criminals actually brought +before the Courts of Assize, which correspond to our Old Bailey and +Circuit Courts, it appears that about four-sevenths are educated, and +three-sevenths destitute of any instruction; which gives a greater +proportion of criminals to the educated than the uneducated class, as +three-fifths of the people are wholly uninstructed.<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> But what is most +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_542" id="Page_542">[Pg 542]</a></span> +marvellous of all, the criminal returns of Prussia, the most universally +educated country in Europe, where the duty of teaching the young is +enforced by law upon parents of every description, and entire ignorance +is wholly unknown, the proportion of criminals to the entire population +is TWELVE TIMES greater than in France, where education of any sort has +only been imparted to <i>two-fifths</i> of the community.<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> These facts are +startling—they run adverse to many preconceived ideas—they overturn +many favourite theories; but they are not the less facts, and it is by +facts alone that correct conclusions are to be drawn in regard to human +affairs. In America too, it appears from the criminal returns, many of +which, in particular towns and states, are quoted in Buckingham's +<i>Travels</i>, that the educated criminals are to the uneducated often as +three, generally as two, to one. These facts completely settle the +question; although, probably, the whole present generation must descend +to their graves before the truth on the subject is generally +acknowledged.</p> + +<p>But to any one who reflects on the principles of human nature, and the +moving powers by which it is impelled, whether towards virtue or vice, +such a result must appear not only intelligible but unavoidable. It is +our desires which are our tempters. All the statistical returns prove +that the great majority of educated persons, generally at least +three-fourths of the whole, have received an <i>imperfect</i> education. They +have just got knowledge enough to incur its dangers; they have not got +enough either to experience its utility or share in its elevation. Their +desires are inflamed, their imaginations excited, their cravings +multiplied by what they read; but neither their understandings +strengthened, their habits improved, nor their hearts purified. The +great bulk of mankind at all times, and especially in all manufacturing +communities, can only receive an imperfect education. It is not in the +age of twelve hours' labour at factories, and of the employment of +children without restraint in coal and iron mines, that any thing +approaching to a thorough education can be imparted to the working +classes, at least in the manufacturing districts. The conclusion to be +drawn from this is, not that education is hopeless and should be +abandoned, in relation to the great bulk of men—for we every day, in +detached instances, have proof of its immense and blessed influence; the +conclusion is, that it is by the active, not the intellectual powers, +the desires, not the understanding, that the great majority of men are +governed; that it is the vast addition civilisation and commerce make to +the wants and passions of men, which constitutes the real cause of its +demoralizing influence; and that these dangers never will be obviated +till means are discovered of combating sin with its own weapons, and by +desires as extensively felt as its passions. We must fight it, not only +with the armour of reason, but the fire of imagination. It is by +<i>enlisting the desires on the side of virtue and order</i>, that we can +alone generally influence mankind.</p> + +<p>It is astonishing how many ways men will turn before they can be brought +to admit the simple truth unfolded in the book of Jeremiah and enforced +in every page of the gospel, that the heart is "deceitful above all +things, and desperately wicked." Driven from the chimeras of mild +punishment and general education as antidotes against the antagonist +power of sin, philanthropists have at last taken refuge in the +infallible effects of <i>solitary confinement</i>. Punishment, it was said, +is the real demoralizer of society; it is our jails which are the +hotbeds and nurseries of crime. Reform them—separate the hardened +criminal from the apprentice to crime—let solitary confinement teach +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_543" id="Page_543">[Pg 543]</a></span> +its impressive lessons, and confer its regular habits; and vice, with +all its concomitant evils, will disappear from the land. At the same +time a great impression was made on the legislature by a graphic, and, +in some respects, just description of the suffering in the penal +colonies of New South Wales; and the result has been a general adoption, +over the whole empire, of the system of long imprisonment instead of +transportation, to an extent previously unknown since the system of +forced convict-labour in the colonies was introduced. All persons +practically acquainted with the subject were aware of the result in +which their experiment would terminate, and the fearful multiplication +of irreclaimable criminals to which it would lead in the heart of the +empire. But unfortunately the persons practically acquainted with the +subject had scarcely a voice in the legislature—the current ran strong +in favour of lengthened imprisonment, and the abolition, except in very +bad cases, of transportation. The judges gave ample scope to the new +system, and it received in every point of view a fair experiment. +Highway robbers, housebreakers, and habitual thieves, received, in great +numbers of cases, sentences of imprisonment, instead of transportation +for life or fourteen years. The jails at the same time were every where +improved; a general system of prison discipline was adopted and +enforced; and solitary confinement, with hard labour, became almost +universal. And what has been the result? Why, that it has been now +demonstrated by experience, that even the longest imprisonments, and the +best system of prison discipline, have no effect, or scarce any, in +reclaiming offenders; and that the only effect of the new system has +been, to crowd the jails with convicts and the streets with thieves; to +load the counties with assessments and the calendars with prisoners; to +starve New South Wales for want of compulsory labour, and oppress Great +Britain by the redundance of hardened idleness. We speak of a matter the +subject of universal notoriety: ample proof of it will be furnished in a +future Number.</p> + +<p>But, what is most alarming of all, it has now been completely +demonstrated, that we are not to look even to the general spread of +religious instruction for any immediate or even rapid diminution of +crime, or amelioration of the habits of the labouring classes. We say +<i>immediate or rapid</i>, because none can be more sensible than we are, +that it is thus alone that crime in the end is to be arrested, and that +the efforts now making in this respect in all parts of the British +empire, are laying the only foundation whereon in future times the +superstructure of a moral and orderly society are to be laid. But, as +every system must be tested by its fruits, and these fruits in the +present forced and artificial state of society are so rapidly brought +forth—it is worse than useless to go on encouraging expectations of an +<i>early</i> reformation of society from the extension of church +establishments, the zeal of dissenters, or the efforts of clerical +instructors. Depend upon it, half a century must elapse before these +praiseworthy and philanthropic efforts produce any <i>general</i> effect on +the frame of society. We shall be fortunate indeed, if in a whole +century the existing evils are in any material degree lessened, and +society has gone on so long without one of those terrible convulsions, +like the French Revolution, which at once destroy the prospects of the +present generation and the hopes of the next.</p> + +<p>The reason is, that degraded and sensual men have an instinctive +aversion to religious truth, and a still greater distaste for religious +restraint. The carnal man is at war with God. When will this great +truth, so loudly proclaimed in every page of the gospel, be practically +acknowledged and acted upon? To those who are acquainted with the +anatomy of crime, and who see exemplified in real life the courses of +the wicked, its truth becomes not only evident, but of overwhelming +importance. The strength of the world consists in its pleasures and +enjoyments. It is the vehemence of the desire for these pleasures and +enjoyments, which constitutes the fearful force of its temptations. The +whole progress of society, the whole efforts of man, the whole +accumulations of wealth are directed, in its later stages, to augment +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_544" id="Page_544">[Pg 544]</a></span> +these desires. Necessities in a large portion of society being provided +for, pleasures only are thought of. Civilisation increases them, for it +augments enjoyment: commerce, for it multiplies the wealth by which it +is purchased: ingenuity, for it adds to the instruments of luxury: +knowledge, for it spreads an ardent, and often exaggerated picture of +its gratifications. The whole efforts of man in civilized life are +directed to the increase of human enjoyment, the incitement of human +desire. Need we wonder, then, if religion, which prescribes an +<i>abstinence</i> from the pleasures of sin, which enjoins continence to the +sensual, sobriety to the drunkard, reflection to the unheeding, +gentleness to the irascible, restraint to the voluptuous, probity to the +avaricious, punishment to the profligate, meets in such an age with very +few votaries? Some, doubtless, will always be found, who, disgusted with +the profligacy with which they are surrounded, are led only the more +rapidly to a life of rectitude and duty by such vice; but how many are +they amidst the crowd of sensual and unreflecting? Perhaps one in +twenty. The great mass pass quietly by on the other side; they do not +say there is no God, but they live altogether without God in the world. +In vain are efforts made to reclaim the vicious, to bring up their +children in the way they should go, in the hope that when they are old +they will not desert it. The grown-up will not go to church; in +manufacturing towns they will not even put on Sunday's clothes, but +revel in intoxication or sloth in their working-dresses all the Lord's +day; except when softened by misfortune, or roused by calamity, they +will not listen, even at home, to the voice of religious counsel. +Children may learn their catechism, and repeat their responses at +school; but when they become men and women, will they resist the +temptations by which they are surrounded? Numerous congregations are +often suddenly formed by the planting of an eloquent and earnest divine +into a densely peopled and neglected locality; but where does the +congregation in general come from? Go into the thinned or deserted +churches or chapels in its vicinity, and you will find you have only +<i>transferred</i> the serious and Christian community from one place of +worship to another.</p> + +<p>Nor let it be said that these dangers affect only a limited portion of +the community, and that, provided only society holds together, and +property is upon the whole secure, it is of little consequence to the +great bulk of the nation whether its criminals are doubling or tripling +every ten years, whether its convicts are hanged, imprisoned, or +transported. Doubtless that is the view taken by the majority of men, +and which ever makes them resist so strenuously any measures calculated +to arrest the general evils by a forced contribution from all classes of +the state. But is such a view of so very serious a matter either +justified by reason, or warranted by a durable regard to self-interest? +Considered in reference only to immediate advantage, and with a view to +avert the much-dreaded evil of an assessment, is it expedient to allow +crime to go on increasing at the fearful rate which it has done in this +country during the last forty years? Can we regard without disquietude +the appalling facts demonstrated by the Parliamentary returns of +population and commitments—that the people are augmenting three times +as fast in the manufacturing as the agricultural districts—that +detected and punished crime is multiplying in the former three times as +fast as the people—and crime really committed three times as much as +that which is brought to light? What can be expected from a state in +which crime, in the manufacturing districts, is thus increasing +TWENTY-SEVEN TIMES <i>as fast as mankind in the rural</i>? From what sources +does this overflowing stream of recklessness, profligacy, and misery, +which overflows our workhouses and fills our jails, mainly spring, but +from this prodigious and unrestrained increase of crime and depravity +among the working classes in the manufacturing districts? Must not such +a state of things lead to a constant augmentation of poor-rates, county +rates, and jail assessments? And how short-sighted is the policy which +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_545" id="Page_545">[Pg 545]</a></span> +allows these oppressive burdens to go on constantly increasing, merely +from terror of incurring additional expense in striving to arrest them, +and hopes to avoid danger, like the partridge, by putting its head in +the bush, and ceasing to look it in the face?</p> + +<p>But most of all, in a public and political view, is this extraordinary +increase of crime in our manufacturing districts, a subject of serious +and anxious consideration to all classes in the state. It is in vain to +seek to conceal, it is folly to attempt to deny, that in the dense +masses of the manufacturers the real danger of Great Britain is to be +found. Though not amounting, upon the whole, to more than a tenth part +of the nation, they are incomparably the most alarming from their close +proximity to each other, the fierce passions which the revolutionary +press has long nourished among them, and the perfect organization which, +under the direction Of the leaders of their trades' unions, they have +long attained. The insurrection in the manufacturing districts of +England, and violent strikes in Scotland in 1842, may warn us of the +danger of such an outbreak, especially when combined, as the next will +almost certainly be, with a general rebellion of the Irish Repealers. +Infinite local mischief, incredible destruction of life and property, +would inevitably follow any serious and general insurrection among them; +even though crushed, as in the end it certainly would be, by an united +effort of the other classes in the state. But is the shock to credit, +the destruction of capital, the breaking of the bread of hundreds of +thousands, nothing in a national point of view? And what can augment the +dangers of such local insurrections so much as the acknowledged fact, +that crime is making unprecedented progress amongst them; that so +general have the causes of dissoluteness become, that whole masses are +brought up in depraved and reckless habits, on the verge of, if not +actually committing crime; and that "<i>les classes dangereuses</i>" are +daily receiving additional accessions on the depraved, the dissolute, +and abandoned from all the other ranks in the state.</p> + +<p>Let us therefore no longer deceive ourselves, or attempt to deceive +others. Crime is making extraordinary and unprecedented progress amongst +us; it is advancing with a rapidity unparalleled in any other European +state: if not arrested, it will come to render the country unbearable; +and will terminate in multiplying to such an extent "<i>les classes +dangereuses</i>," as they have been well denominated by the French, as, on +the first serious political convulsion, may come to endanger the state. +It has advanced with undeviating and fearful rapidity through all the +successive delusions which have been trusted to in the country to check +its progress. With equal ease it has cast aside the visions of Sir +Samuel Romilly and the advocates of lenient punishment—the dreams of +Lord Brougham and the supporters of general education—the theories of +the Archbishop of Dublin and the enemies of transportation—the hopes of +Lord John Russell and the partizans of improved prison discipline at +home. Even the blessed arm of the gospel has hitherto failed in checking +its advance amongst us; and it nowhere appears in more appalling colours +than in the districts where the greatest and most strenuous efforts have +been made for the moral and religious instruction of the people. "Nous +avons donnés à penser," as the French say. Ample subject for serious +reflection has been furnished to our readers till a future occasion, +when the cause of this general failure, and the means requisite for the +diminution of crime, will be considered.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> + +Table showing the progress of crime in the British islands since +1805, in so far as can be ascertained.</p> + +<table summary="Progress of Crime"> +<tr><td> + <table summary="Progress of Crime PartI" border="1" cellpadding="5"> + <tr><th>Years</th><th>England.</th><th>Scotland.</th><th>Ireland.</th></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1805</td><td align="right">4605</td><td align="right">89</td><td align="right">3600</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1806</td><td align="right">4346</td><td align="right">101</td><td align="right">3781</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1807</td><td align="right">4446</td><td align="right">97</td><td align="right">3522</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1808</td><td align="right">4735</td><td align="right">124</td><td align="right">3704</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1809</td><td align="right">5330</td><td align="right">Chasm.</td><td align="right">3641</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1810</td><td align="right">5146</td><td align="right"> </td><td align="right">3799</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1811</td><td align="right">5337</td><td align="right"> </td><td align="right">4162</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1812</td><td align="right">6576</td><td align="right"> </td><td align="right">4286</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1813</td><td align="right">7164</td><td align="right"> </td><td align="right">Chasm.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1814</td><td align="right">6390</td><td align="right"> </td><td align="right"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1815</td><td align="right">7818</td><td align="right"> </td><td align="right"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1816</td><td align="right">9091</td><td align="right"> </td><td align="right"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1817</td><td align="right">13,932</td><td align="right"> </td><td align="right"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1818</td><td align="right">13,567</td><td align="right"> </td><td align="right"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1819</td><td align="right">14,254</td><td align="right"> </td><td align="right"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1820</td><td align="right">13,710</td><td align="right">1486</td><td align="right"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1821</td><td align="right">13,115</td><td align="right">1522</td><td align="right"> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1822</td><td align="right">12,241</td><td align="right">1691</td><td align="right">13,251</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1823</td><td align="right">12,263</td><td align="right">1733</td><td align="right">14,632</td></tr> +</table> +</td> +<td></td> +<td> + <table summary="Progress of Crime PartII" border="1" cellpadding="5"> + <tr><th>Years</th><th>England.</th><th>Scotland.</th><th>Ireland.</th></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1824</td><td align="right">13,698</td><td align="right">1802</td><td align="right">15,258</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1825</td><td align="right">14,437</td><td align="right">1876</td><td align="right">15,515</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1826</td><td align="right">16,164</td><td align="right">1999</td><td align="right">16,318</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1827</td><td align="right">17,924</td><td align="right">2116</td><td align="right">18,031</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1828</td><td align="right">16,564</td><td align="right">2024</td><td align="right">14,683</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1829</td><td align="right">18,675</td><td align="right">2063</td><td align="right">15,271</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1830</td><td align="right">18,107</td><td align="right">2329</td><td align="right">15,794</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1831</td><td align="right">19,647</td><td align="right">2451</td><td align="right">16,192</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1832</td><td align="right">20,829</td><td align="right">2431</td><td align="right">16,056</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1833</td><td align="right">20,072</td><td align="right">2564</td><td align="right">17,819</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1834</td><td align="right">22,451</td><td align="right">2691</td><td align="right">24,381</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1835</td><td align="right">20,731</td><td align="right">2867</td><td align="right">21,205</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1836</td><td align="right">20,984</td><td align="right">3922</td><td align="right">23,891</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1837</td><td align="right">23,612</td><td align="right">3126</td><td align="right">24,804</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1838</td><td align="right">23,094</td><td align="right">3418</td><td align="right">25,723</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1839</td><td align="right">24,443</td><td align="right">3409</td><td align="right">26,392</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1840</td><td align="right">27,187</td><td align="right">3872</td><td align="right">23,833</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1841</td><td align="right">27,760</td><td align="right">3562</td><td align="right">20,796</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1842</td><td align="right">31,309</td><td align="right">3884</td><td align="right"> </td></tr> +</table> +</td></tr></table> + +<p>—<span class='smcap'>Porter's</span> <i>Progress of the Nation</i>, iii. 172, 227.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> <span class='smcap'>Moreau</span>, <i>Stat. de la Grande Bretagne</i>, vol. ii. p. 317.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Census of 1841.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> <span class='smcap'>Porter's</span> <i>Parliamentary Tables</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> These facts were all proved in the subsequent trial of the leaders +of the riot, at Edinburgh.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Table showing the diminution of crime in British India:—</p> + + + + <table summary="Circuit Court of Bengal" border="1" cellpadding="5"> + <tr><td colspan="6" align="center"><span class="smcap">Circuit Court Of Bengal</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> </td><th>Burglary.</th><th>Cattle-stealing.</th><th>Fraud.</th><th>Larceny.</th><th>Total.</th></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1816 to 1818</td><td align="right">2853</td><td align="right">203</td><td align="right">150</td><td align="right">1516</td><td align="right">3722</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1825 to 1827</td><td align="right">1036</td><td align="right">31</td><td align="right">49</td><td align="right">223</td><td align="right">1339</td></tr> +</table> +<br /> + + <table summary="Lower and Western Provinces of Bengal" border="1" cellpadding="5"> +<tr><td colspan="6" align="center"><span class="smcap">Lower and Western Provinces Of Bengal</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td><span class="smcap">Lower</span></td><td colspan="3" align="center"><span class='smcap'>Western</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> </td><th>Sentenced.</th><th> </th><th>Gang Robberies.</th><th>Murder.</th></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1816</td><td align="right">13,869</td><td align="right">1807</td><td align="right">1481</td><td align="right">406</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1827</td><td align="right">8075</td><td align="right">1824</td><td align="right">234</td><td align="right">30</td></tr> +</table> + +—<span class='smcap'>Martin's</span> <i>British Colonies</i>. 12mo, Edin. IX. 322, 329</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> Table showing the persons accused at the Assize Courts of France in +the under mentioned years:—</p> + + <table summary="Persons accused at the Assize Courts of France" border="1" cellpadding="5"> +<tr><td align="right">1828—6922</td><td align="right">1832—7565</td><td align="right">1836—6289</td><td align="right">1840—6117</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1829—7359</td><td align="right">1833—6694</td><td align="right">1837—7164</td><td>1841—</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1830—6962</td><td align="right">1834—6952</td><td align="right">1838—6872</td><td>1842—</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1831—7604</td><td align="right">1835—6371</td><td align="right">1839—6271</td><td> </td></tr> +</table> + +<p>—<span class='smcap'>Porter's</span> <i>Parl. Tables</i>, vi. 346.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> We except the police of London, which is admirable, and also that of +Liverpool, Glasgow, Manchester, and Edinburgh; where, though there is +great room for improvement, much has been done in this way to repress +crime.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Table showing the instruction of criminals over the British Empire +in 1841.</p> + + <table summary="Instruction of criminals over the British Empire in 1841" border="1" cellpadding="5"> + <tr><td colspan="4"> </td><td colspan="2" align="center">Total.</td></tr> + <tr><th>Neither read nor write.</th><th>Imperfectly.</th><th>Well.</th><th>Superior.</th><th>Educated.</th><th>Uneducated.</th></tr> +<tr><td align="right">England...9220</td><td align="right">13,732</td><td align="right">2,253</td><td align="right">126</td><td align="right">18,171</td><td align="right">9,220</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Scotland...696</td><td align="right">2,248</td><td align="right">554</td><td align="right">42</td><td align="right">2,834</td><td align="right">696</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Ireland...7152<br />——<br />17,068</td><td align="right">3,084<br />——<br />19,064</td><td align="right">5,631<br />——<br />8,438</td><td align="right">0<br />——<br />168</td><td align="right">8,733<br />——<br />29,738</td><td align="right">7,152<br />——<br />17,068</td></tr> +</table> + + + +<p>—<span class='smcap'>Porter's</span> <i>Progress of the Nation</i>, iii. 201, 214, 215, 232.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Table showing the centesimal proportion of crime in relation to +education in the under-mentioned years.</p> + + <table summary="Centesimal proportion of crime in relation to education" border="1" cellpadding="5"> + <tr><td> </td><th>Unable to read <br />or write.</th><th>Imperfectly.</th><th>Well.</th><th>Superior.</th><th>Not ascertained.</th><th>Total.</th></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">1836</td><td align="right">33.52</td><td align="right">52.53</td><td align="right">10.36</td><td align="right">0.91</td><td align="right">2.68</td><td align="right">100</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1837</td><td align="right">35.85</td><td align="right">52.08</td><td align="right">9.45</td><td align="right">0.43</td><td align="right">2.18</td><td align="right">100</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1838</td><td align="right">34.42</td><td align="right">53.41</td><td align="right">9.77</td><td align="right">0.34</td><td align="right">2.08</td><td align="right">100</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1839</td><td align="right">33.53</td><td align="right">53.48</td><td align="right">10.07</td><td align="right">0.32</td><td align="right">2.60</td><td align="right">100</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1840</td><td align="right">33.32</td><td align="right">55.57</td><td align="right">8.29</td><td align="right">0.37</td><td align="right">2.45</td><td align="right">100</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1841</td><td align="right">33.21</td><td align="right">56.67</td><td align="right">7.10</td><td align="right">0.43</td><td align="right">2.27</td><td align="right">100</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1842</td><td align="right">32.33</td><td align="right">58.52</td><td align="right">6.77</td><td align="right">0.22 </td><td align="right">2.34</td><td align="right">100</td></tr> +</table> + +—<i>Parl. Papers</i>, 5th May 1843. <span class='smcap'>M'Culloch</span>, <i>Stat. of Great Britain</i>, i. +476-7.61</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> See <span class='smcap'>Guerry's</span> <i>Stat. Tables of France</i>.</p></div> + + + + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> + + <table summary="Extent of Education" border="1" cellpadding="5"> + <tr><th> </th><th>Uneducated.</th><th>Imperfectly educated.</th><th>Good do.</th><th>Superior do.</th><th> Total educated.</th></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1828</td><td align="right">4,116</td><td align="right">1,858</td><td align="right">780</td><td align="right">118</td><td align="right">2,756</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1831</td><td align="right">4,600</td><td align="right">2,047</td><td align="right">767</td><td align="right">190</td><td align="right">3,004</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">1834</td><td align="right">4,080</td><td align="right">2,061</td><td align="right">608</td><td align="right">203</td><td align="right">2,872</td></tr> +</table> + +—<span class='smcap'>Porter's</span> <i>Parl. Tables</i>, ii. 346.</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a></p> + + + <table summary="Crimes against the person" cellpadding="5"> + <tr><td>In France and Prussia there were in 1826.—</td><th>Prussia.</th><th>France.</th></tr> +<tr><td>Crimes against the person</td><td align="right">1 in 34.122</td><td align="right">1 in 32.411</td></tr> +<tr><td>Do. property</td><td align="right">1 in 597</td><td align="right">1 in 9.392</td></tr> +<tr><td>Do. on the whole</td><td align="right">1 in 587</td><td align="right">1 in 7.285</td></tr> +</table> +<br /> + +</div> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_546" id="Page_546">[Pg 546]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="RHINE_AND_RHINELANDERS" id="RHINE_AND_RHINELANDERS"></a>RHINE AND RHINELANDERS</h2> + + +<p>"On the Rhine, I am never more than twenty years old!" says the Countess +Ida Hahn Hahn, in her <i>Erinnerungen</i>. "There only do I feel myself +quite at home. Whether arriving from the Baltic or the Guadalquivir, I +have always a recurrence of the same nameless home-feeling, which +renders me at once happy and tranquil. O, the Rhine! the Rhine! What are +other rivers—your Seine, and Garonne, and Tagus—compared with him? But +small and secondary streams beside the mighty Rhine. There are certain +rivers which represent nations, and ideas, and periods of history—the +Scamander for instance, bringing to our thoughts the days of Grecian +heroism; when men fought with gods, and in so doing seemed to wrest from +them a portion of their supernatural strength and beauty—the Nile, the +priestly Nile, mysterious as a dogma, but rich in blessings as the +agency of a divine spirit; concealed in its source, but manifest in its +operation—then the Jordan, the stream of revelation, on whose banks is +heard the rushing of the wings of the dove, while a voice, other than +that of man, murmurs over the waters—and the Tiber, a small and muddy +stream, but the gigantic and sparkling reflex of Rome's immortal +turrets. But the Rhine, that heroic river, which nations never cross +without buckling on their armour for the fight; and yet, on whose banks +life is so free, so safe, and so delightful. Hark to the clatter of +wine-cups, the echoes of music, the whispered legends, and the clash of +weapons! while the old river flows on so cheerily, murmuring as he goes +words of encouragement to his children.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"I embrace thee, O Rhine! and wherever I go I will not cease to love +thee.</p> +</div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"When I pass in review all the beautiful scenes I have visited, and then +ask myself the question, Where I would fain see the sun set for the last +time? the answer is unhesitating and heartfelt, and invariably the +same—'Behind Stobzenfels, on the Rhine.'"</p> +</div> + +<p>It would be difficult better to illustrate German veneration and +affection for the Rhine, than by the above passages from one of the most +intellectual female writers of the day—a writer whose works will bear +comparison with those of George Sand for genius and masculine vigour of +style, (exempt, however, from much that is objectionable in the +French-woman;) while for elegance, taste, and a fine feeling for art and +poetry, they may be placed on the same line with those of our own +"Ennuyée." What the Countess Hahn Hahn feels and expresses with all the +fervour of a poetical imagination—the sort of exhilarating and exulting +love for the most classical stream of modern story—is felt in a greater +or less degree by all intellectual classes of Germans. Their veneration +for the old river that waters one of the sunniest and fairest districts +of the Vaterland, is profound; their admiration of the natural beauties, +and of the vestiges of days gone by, that abound upon its banks, +unceasing. German patriotism is comprehensive: it hails as one country +all the wide lands in which the Teuton tongue is spoken; and in nearly +all those lands is the Rhine thought and talked of with an admiration +amounting to enthusiasm. By a contradiction, however, of not unfrequent +occurrence, the people who seem least capable of sharing this feeling, +are those who ought to be most under its influence—the inhabitants of +the Rhine-country itself. The well known and often quoted passage of +Jean Jacques, applied by him to the dwellers on the shores of Lake +Leman, is equally applicable to the denizens of the Rhineland. "Je +dirois volontiers à ceux qui ont du goût et sont sensibles—allez à +Vevey, visitez le pays, examinez les sites, promenez vous sur le lac; et +dites si la nature n'a pas fait ce beau pays pour une Julie, pour une +Claire, et pour un St Preux; mais—— ne les y cherchez pas." In like +manner we would say—Visit the Rhine, not as most tourists do, by +rushing in a steam-boat from Rotterdam or Cologne to Basle or Baden, but +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_547" id="Page_547">[Pg 547]</a></span> +deliberately, on shore as well as on the water, climbing the mountains +and strolling through the valleys, seeking out the innumerable and +enchanting points of view, and contemplating them by sunset and sunrise, +in the broad glare of noon and by the subdued evening light; and then +say whether such a country is not worthy of different inhabitants from +the mongrel race, part German, part Flemish, part French, which it now +possesses—a population which, when it has consumed its five or six +heavy meals, smoked a dozen or two pipes, and slept its long sleep of +repletion, considers it has done its duty to God and man, and troubles +itself little with such intangible matters as poetical reveries or +mental cultivation.</p> + +<p>But we are running away from our subject, and losing sight of the +intention we had in commencing this paper, which was, to hook ourselves +on to the dexter arm of that indefatigable rambler, M. Alexander Dumas, +and accompany him in an excursion up the Rhine. He thinks proper to +proceed thither by way of Belgium, and we must conform to his +arrangements. In due time we shall return to our Rhenish friends.</p> + +<p>M. Dumas's earliest care, on arriving at Brussels, was to deliver to +King Leopold a letter of recommendation with which he had provided +himself for that monarch; and he hastened to the palace, where he +obtained admission, he tells us, more easily than he could have done at +Paris at the house of a second-rate banker. We were not aware that the +French <i>bureaucratie</i> of the day were of such difficult access, and +would strongly advise them, since it is so, to take pattern by his +Belgian majesty; who in this instance, however, was not at Brussels at +all, but at his country palace of Lacken, whither M. Dumas proceeds. +Here he is immediately ushered into the king's presence.</p> + +<p>"After a quarter of an hour's conversation," says our traveller, "which +his Majesty was pleased to put at once upon a footing of familiar chat, +I became convinced that I was speaking with the most philosophical king +who had ever existed, not excepting Frederick the Great."</p> + +<p>We congratulate M. Dumas sincerely upon the exquisite keenness of +perception which enabled him to make this discovery, and from so decided +an opinion in the course of a quarter of an hour's familiar chat. At the +same time we cannot repress a fear, that he is apt to be a little +dazzled by the sparkling halo that surrounds a diadem. This we do not +say so much with reference to the King of the Belgians, who may be a +very philosophical, as he has proved himself to be a very judicious +sovereign; but it has struck us more than once, during the perusal of M. +Dumas's wanderings in various lands, that he exhibits a slight, an +inconceivably small, tendency to tuft-hunting, hardly consistent with +his ultra-liberal principles, and difficult to reconcile with the +cynical tone that he habitually adopts in speaking of most existing +governments and institutions. To say the truth, we have conceived a +great affection for our friend Alexander, and feel every disposition to +glide lightly over his faults and exalt his virtues; to treat him +tenderly, in short, even as one we love. We do not expect perfection +from him, although we are anxious to believe that he approaches as near +to that angelic state as it is given to a child of clay to do. We would +pardon his recording in some detail the gracious words spoken to him by +the King of this, and the Prince of that—showing how he was treated on +a footing of perfect equality and familiarity by the mighty ones of the +earth—how they caressed and complimented him, and wore out the boots of +their aides-de-camp and chamberlains by sending after him—and how they +told him to "Venez me demander à diner," or in other words, to go and +take a chop with them whenever he could make it convenient. At all these +interesting and carefully recorded incidents we should indulgently +smile, were they narrated by any one but our much-esteemed +Alexander—the confirmed democrat, the political Utopian, the declared +disciple of the subversive school, the worthy representative, when he +gets upon the chapter of politics, of that recently discovered +zoological curiosity, the <i>tigre-singe</i>. It is the inconsistency of the +thing that strikes and afflicts us.</p> + +<p>Of M. Dumas's very ultra views on political subjects, we have abundant +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_548" id="Page_548">[Pg 548]</a></span> +proof in the section headed "Waterloo," which is an amusing specimen of +the rabid style. The tone is pretty much the same as that of the most +violent of the French democratic and anti-English journals. We should +like to extract it all, but it is too lengthy, and we must content +ourselves with the last ten lines. Here they are, breathing saltpetre +and bayonets:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +"A quarter of a century has elapsed since that date, (June 1815,) and +France is only now beginning to understand that the defeat of Waterloo +was necessary for the liberty of Europe; but she not the less cherishes +at the bottom of her heart a poignant grief and rage at having been +marked out for a victim. On that plain where so many Spartan-like +warriors fell for her sake—where the pyramid of the Prince of Orange, +the tomb of Colonel Gordon, and the monument of the Hanoverians, serve +as mementoes of the fight—no stone, or cross, or inscription recalls +the name of France. But the day shall come when God will bid her +(France) recommence the work of universal liberation—the work begun by +Bonaparte and interrupted by Napoleon; then, when that work is done, we +will turn the lion of Nassau with its head towards Europe, <i>et tout sera +dit</i>."</div> + +<p>As this rather high-flown passage might not be generally intelligible to +our readers, we will put it into plain English. It will then run thus:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +"When France shall again become a republic, or when she shall find a +king mad or wicked enough to give in to her worst propensities, she will +pour her legions across every frontier, sweep all opposition before her, +revolutionize and emancipate Europe, and hoist the triumphant and +blood-stained tricolor over the ashes of sovereignties, and the ruins of +every old and time-honoured institution."</div> + +<p>It is strange to see a man of undoubted talent, and who ought to be +amongst the enlightened ones of his country and his age, indulging in +such absurd visions and insane prophecies. Rhapsodies of this kind would +be merely laughable, were it not for the weight which they +unquestionably have with the younger and less reflecting classes of +Frenchmen, especially when proceeding from a writer of M. Dumas's +abilities and reputation. It is by this style of writing, which abounds +in French periodical literature, and in the works of some, fortunately a +minority, of the clever <i>littérateurs</i> of the day, that the attacks of +war fever, to which France is subject, are aggravated, if not frequently +brought on.</p> + +<p>We do not intend following M. Dumas step by step through Belgium, to +which country he devotes a volume. We prefer passing at once to the +Rhine, which he ascends from Cologne to Strasburg, making continual +pauses, and enlivening the description of what he sees by agreeable and +spirited versions of what he has read and heard. Much of what he tells +us has been already printed in the numerous tours and guide-books, +which, in conjunction with steam-boats and railways, have familiarized +most Englishmen with the Rhine and its legends. It acquires a fresh +charm, however, from the present narrator's agreeable and pointed style, +and from his calling in the aid of his imagination to supply any little +deficiencies; rounding and filling up stories that would otherwise be +angular and incomplete. He also gives some agreeable caricatures, if +caricatures they may be called, of certain German eccentricities. Yet we +should have thought that so keen an observer of men and manners, might +have made more than he has done of the peculiarities of German society +and habits; but unfortunately M. Dumas appears to understand little, if +any, of the language, and this has doubtless been a great hindrance to +him, and has prevented him from making his book as characteristic as his +Italian sketches. Nevertheless he is piquant enough in some places. We +will give his droll account of his entrance into Rhenish Prussia. After +being robbed by the innkeeper at Liege, he gets into the Aix-la-Chapelle +diligence; and, on reading the printed ticket that has been given to him +at the coach-office, finds that he has the fourth seat, and that he is +forbidden to change places with his neighbours, even by mutual consent.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_549" id="Page_549">[Pg 549]</a></span></p> + +<p>"This military sort of strictness, still more than the abominable jargon +of the postilion, made me aware that I was about to enter the dominions +of King Frederick William. As I had a corner of the coach, the tyranny +of his Prussian majesty was tolerably endurable, and I soon fell fast +asleep. About three in the morning, just as day was breaking, I awoke, +and found that the diligence was standing still. I at first thought +there was an accident, and put my head out of the window to see what was +the matter. No accident had happened; no other coach was near—the road +was excellent. We were alone and motionless. I took my ticket out of my +pocket, read it from one end to the other, and having satisfied myself +that it was not forbidden to <i>speak</i> in the diligence, I asked my +neighbour if we had been standing there long.</p> + +<p>"'About twenty minutes,' was the answer.</p> + +<p>"'And pray,' continued I, 'can you tell me what we are doing here?'</p> + +<p>"'We are waiting.'</p> + +<p>"'Ah! we are waiting. And for what?'</p> + +<p>"'For the time.'</p> + +<p>"'What time?'</p> + +<p>"'The time at which we are allowed to arrive.'</p> + +<p>"'There is a time fixed for arriving, then?'</p> + +<p>"'Every thing is fixed in Prussia.'</p> + +<p>"'And if we arrived before the time?'</p> + +<p>"'The conductor would be punished.'</p> + +<p>"'And if after?'</p> + +<p>"'He would also be punished.'</p> + +<p>"'Ah! that is very well arranged.'</p> + +<p>"'Every thing is well arranged in Prussia.'</p> + +<p>"I bowed assentingly. Not for worlds would I have contradicted a +gentleman possessed of such an exalted opinion of his country and its +institutions, and who answered my questions so courteously and +laconically. My acquiescence appeared to gratify him. I felt encouraged, +and continued my enquiries.</p> + +<p>"'Pardon me, sir, but at what hour ought the diligence to arrive at +Aix-la-Chapelle?'</p> + +<p>"'At twenty-five minutes to five.'</p> + +<p>"'But if the conductor's watch were slow?'</p> + +<p>"'His watch can never be slow.'</p> + +<p>"'Indeed! And why so?'</p> + +<p>"'Opposite to where he sits, and under lock and key, there is a watch +which is regulated before starting by the clock at the coach-office. The +conductor knows at what hour he should pass through each town and +village on his route, and he makes the postilions hurry or slacken their +pace accordingly, so as to arrive at Aix-la-Chapelle exactly at the +right time.'</p> + +<p>"'But with those precautions, how is it that we are obliged to wait upon +the road?'</p> + +<p>"'The conductor has doubtless followed your example, and slept, and the +postilions have taken advantage of that to go quicker.'</p> + +<p>"'Well, since we have still some time to remain here, I will get out and +stretch my legs a little.'</p> + +<p>"'It is not allowed to get out of the diligence in Prussia.'</p> + +<p>"'Indeed! That is very agreeable. I wished particularly to look at that +castle on the other side of the road.'</p> + +<p>"'That is Emmaburg. It is the scene of the famous legend of <i>Eginhard +and Emma</i>.'</p> + +<p>"'Really! Be so obliging as to change places with me for a moment, that +I may look at it through the window.'</p> + +<p>"'I should be most happy, sir; but in Prussia it is not allowed to +change places.'</p> + +<p>"'True, true! How could I forget it? I beg your pardon, sir.'</p> + +<p>"'These tamned Frenchmans, they do noting but shatter and talk!' said a +fat German sitting opposite to me, opening his mouth for the first time +since we had left Liege, but still keeping his eyes shut.</p> + +<p>"'You were saying, sir——?' said I, not particularly gratified by the +remark.</p> + +<p>"'I say noting—I shleep.'</p> + +<p>"'<i>Shleep</i> as much as you like, but try not to dream aloud, eh? Or, if +you dream, dream in your mother tongue.'</p> + +<p>"The German began to snore.</p> + +<p>"'Postilion, <i>vorwarts!</i>' shouted the conductor.</p> + +<p>"We were off at a gallop. I put my head out of the window to try to get +a view of the ruins, but it was vain; they had disappeared behind an +angle of the road. At +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_550" id="Page_550">[Pg 550]</a></span> +twenty-five minutes to five, not a second later or +earlier, we drove into the coach-yard at Aix-la-Chapelle."</p> + +<p>At Cologne M. Dumas pauses, and fills a hundred pages with the +cathedral, and the legend attaching to it. Most of our readers are +probably aware that the above-named church was commenced by an architect +whose name has been forgotten, and who procured the design for the +building from Satan himself, upon the usual condition of giving a +promissory note for his soul. A certain Father Clement, however, a very +knowing priest, of whom the arch-tempter stood in almost as great awe as +he had ever done of St Dunstan of nose-pulling celebrity, came to the +assistance of the builder, and put him up to a stratagem, by which he +avoided signing away his spiritual part, although he still obtained +possession of the plan for the cathedral. Satan confessed himself +outwitted, but prophesied that the building should never be finished, +and that its builder's name should not go down to posterity. The latter +part of the prediction has been accomplished; but as the present King of +Prussia has declared his intention of finishing the work that has been +so magnificently begun, it seems probable Beelzebub may prove mistaken +in one portion of his prophecy.</p> + +<p>Cologne being a large city, somewhat Frenchified in its ways, M. Dumas +manages pretty well as regards eating and drinking; but, as he ascends +the river, matters get worse. He arrives at Bonn at the hour of the one +o'clock meal, called the first dinner, and we find him expatiating on +the subject of German appetites and feeding.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"The Germans eat from morning till night. On opening their eyes, at +seven o'clock in the morning, they take their coffee—at eleven, +breakfast—at one, the little dinner, (a sort of luncheon)—at three, +dinner—at five, another meal, nondescript, nameless, and abundant—at +nine, a tremendous supper, preparatory to going to bed. Tea, cakes, and +sandwiches, fill up the intervals."</p> +</div> + +<p>This is really only a moderate exaggeration on the part of M. Dumas. +Five meals a-day, three of them solid, meat-devouring, wine-bibbing +feeds, are the regular allowance of every well-conditioned, well-to-do, +comfortable Rhinelander. We do not consider Frenchmen small eaters, +whatever they may consider themselves—if they eat little of each dish, +they eat of a vast number; but for examples of positive voracity, +commend us to a German table-d'hôte. A coachful of French <i>commis +voyageurs</i>, assembled, after a ten hours' fast, round the luxurious +profusion and delicacies of a Languedocian dinner, would appear mere +babes and sucklings in the eating way, compared to a party of Germans at +their one o'clock feed. The difference is nearly as great as between the +Lady Amine eating rice with a bodkin, and the same fair one battening +ghoulishly upon the cold meat in the cemetery. Nothing can equal the +persevering industry with which a German crams himself at a public +table, where, having to pay a fixed sum for his dinner, he always seems +desirous to get as much as he can for his money. The <i>obligato</i> bowl of +soup is followed by sundry huge slices of boiled beef, sufficient of +themselves for an ordinary man's dinner, but by no means sufficing for a +German's; then come fowl and meat, fish, puddings and creams, and meat +again; sweet, sour, and greasy—greasy, sweet, and sour, alternating and +following one another in inextricable and interminable confusion. Every +body eats of every thing largely and voraciously, and the short pauses +between the appearance of the dishes are filled up by nibblings at such +salutary and digestible <i>extremets</i> as raw hams and herrings, pickled +cucumbers, and pickled grapes! German cookery is famous for odd +mixtures. M. Dumas is rather amusing on this head.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"At Bonn, the dinner they served me consisted of an unintelligible sort +of soup, full of round balls of a pasty substance; beef stewed with +prunes, hare dressed with preserves, wild boar with cherries; it was +impossible to take more pains to spoil things which separately, would +have been very commendable eating. I tasted them each in turn, and each +time sent away my plate. When I sent away the wild boar, the waiter +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_551" id="Page_551">[Pg 551]</a></span> +could stand it no longer.</p> + +<p>"'Does not monsieur like wild boar with cherries?'</p> + +<p>"'I detest it!'</p> + +<p>"'That is singular; a great poet like monsieur.'</p> + +<p>"'You are mistaken, my man: I make verses perhaps; but that is no reason +for calling me a great poet, nor for ruining the coats of my stomach +with your infernal fricassees. Besides, supposing I were a great poet, +what has poetry got to do with pig and cherry sauce?'</p> + +<p>"'Our great Schiller adored that dish.'</p> + +<p>"'Our tastes differ, then. I have no objection to William Tell or +Wallenstein, but—— take away your pig.'</p> + +<p>"The waiter carried off the wild boar: meantime I tasted the beef and +prunes, but, to do more than taste it, was out of the question; and, +when the man returned, I bid him change my plate. His astonishment was +greater than ever.</p> + +<p>"'What!' cried he, 'does not monsieur like beef and prunes?'</p> + +<p>"'No.'</p> + +<p>"'M. Goethe was passionately addicted to it.'</p> + +<p>"'I am sorry not to have the same addictions as the author of Faust. +Make me an omelet.'</p> + +<p>"In a few minutes back came the waiter with the omelet. It looked +uncommonly nice, and I was uncommonly hungry. Nevertheless, I could not +swallow the first mouthful.</p> + +<p>"'What the devil have you put into your omelet? An omelet should be made +with butter, eggs, salt, and pepper.'</p> + +<p>"'Certainly, sir. It <i>is</i> made with butter, eggs, salt, and pepper.'</p> + +<p>"'And what else?'</p> + +<p>"'A little flour.'</p> + +<p>"'And besides?'</p> + +<p>"'A little cheese.'</p> + +<p>"'Go on.'</p> + +<p>"'Some saffron.'</p> + +<p>"'And then?'</p> + +<p>"'Cloves, nutmeg, and a little thyme.'</p> + +<p>"'Enough, enough! Take away your omelet.'"</p> +</div> + +<p>The master of the hotel, who is an intelligent personage, now makes his +appearance, and M. Dumas at last finds that, by ordering a dinner <i>à la +Française</i>, he can get something eatable. Encouraged by this success, he +ventures, when bedtime comes, to petition for a bed in which a Frenchman +can sleep. This requires a little explanation, which will be best given +in his own words.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"In France we are pretty much accustomed to sleep in a bed; that is to +say, on a couch consisting of a frame some three and a half or four feet +wide, and some six or six and a half feet long. On this frame or +bedstead we place two or three mattresses and a feather bed, a pair of +sheets, a counterpane, a pillow and bolster; we then tuck in the edges +of these coverings, the person for whom the bed is intended slips in +between the sheets, and if his health is good and his conscience clear, +and he has not been drinking too much green tea or strong coffee, he +goes to sleep. In a bed of this description any body can sleep, whether +German, Spaniard, Italian, Hindoo, or Chinese, unless he makes up his +mind not to do so. But in Germany things are very different. A German +bed is composed as follows:—</p> + +<p>"First, a bedstead two or two and a half feet wide, and five to five and +a half feet long. Procrustes must decidedly have been a German. On the +bedstead they place a sack of shavings, on the sack of shavings an +enormous feather bed, and then a sheet, shorter and narrower than the +feather bed, and which we should call a towel. Upon this sheet or towel +comes a quilted coverlet of the same size, and a sort of cushion stuffed +with feathers. Two or three pillows, piled up at the head of the bed, +complete this singular edifice.</p> + +<p>"When a Frenchman gets into a bed of this kind, as he does not think of +taking any particular precautions, in about five minutes the pillows +fall on one side, the coverlet on the other; the sheet rolls itself up +and disappears; so that the aforesaid Frenchman finds himself with one +side of his body uncovered and frozen, and the other side sunk in the +feather bed and perspiring profusely. This arises, say the Germans, from +the circumstance of the French being so impetuous and lively. With a +calm and phlegmatic German the case is quite different. The latter +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_552" id="Page_552">[Pg 552]</a></span> +raises the counterpane very cautiously, creeps underneath, and places +himself with his back against the pillows, and his feet against the +bottom of the bed, screwing himself up into the shape of the letter Z: +he then draws the covering over his knees, shuts his eyes, goes to +sleep, and awakes the next morning in the same position. To do this it +is necessary to be a German, and as I am not one, I had not slept a wink +since I had been in the country; I was growing as thin as a lath, and I +had a cough that seemed to tear my chest open. This is why I asked for a +bed <i>à la Française</i>. Mine host had fortunately six of them. When I +heard that, I could have embraced him with pleasure."</p> +</div> + +<p>The villages of Winnebourg and Metternich near Coblentz, the former the +birthplace, the latter the property, of Prince Metternich, lead M. Dumas +into a little digression on the subject of the celebrated diplomatist. +The family name, we are informed, was originally Metter, but received +the addition of the last syllable in the following manner:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"In one of the great battles of the fifteenth century, the emperor of +Germany saw an entire regiment take to flight with the exception of one +man, who stood his ground and defended himself gallantly, till he fell +covered with wounds. The emperor enquired his name. It was Metter."</p> +</div> + +<p>That night at supper the emperor said, talking of the regiment in +question—"They all fled, but Metter <i>nicht</i>." Every body knows that +"nicht" is the German for not. The family adopted the additional +syllable, and hence the origin of the name of Metternich.</p> + +<p>M. de Metternich, it appears, is a great collector of autographs, and of +course his position has facilitated the gratification of this taste. His +collection is rich in royal, imperial, and princely letters; nor is +there any lack of odes from German poets, and sonnets from Italian +<i>improvisatori</i>. One day, however, it occurred to him that, now the +public press had become a power in many countries, he ought to have the +autographs of a few journalists, in order to complete his collection; +and as in Italy and Germany, thanks to the censorship, there are plenty +of journals but no journalists, he was obliged to send to France. +Amongst others, M. Jules Janin (one of the editors of the <i>Journal des +Debats</i>) received a most polite request for an autograph from the rival +of M. de Talleyrand. Janin immediately took up his pen, and wrote as +follows:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Received from his Excellency Prince Metternich, twenty-four</span><br /> +<span class="i0">bottles of Johannisberg, first quality.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">"Paris, 15th May 1838."</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>A month afterwards there arrived at Paris the twenty-four bottles of +wine, of which Janin, with a confidence that the prince no doubt knew +how to appreciate, had acknowledged receipt beforehand. M. de Metternich +has preserved Janin's witty autograph with the greatest care. I doubt +very much if Janin has preserved M. de Metternich's wine.</p> + +<p>M. Dumas finds some compensation for the badness of German beds in the +excellence of German roads. His soundest sleep is always obtained in the +diligence. He takes a nap from Mayence to Frankfort; but on entering the +latter city is shaken out of his slumbers by an Austrian soldier, who +demands his passport. In consequence of an incident that had lately +occurred, the soldiery were particularly on the alert with regard to +passports. M. Dumas relates the anecdote in his usual pointed and +effective manner.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"The free city of Frankfort, which, in its capacity of a free city, is +garrisoned by an Austrian and a Prussian regiment, had been laid under +contribution during the spring fair by a most expert pickpocket, whom +the police had in vain endeavoured to detect and capture. The fair was +nearly at an end; and, in order that the thief might not escape, the +sentries at the gates were directed to allow no man to leave the town +without sending him into the guard-house to have his passport examined, +and to see if his height, features, and appearance corresponded with the +description on the paper. This order given, the authorities did not +trouble their heads any more about the matter, feeling quite certain +that the offender could not escape.</p> + +<p>"On the other hand, the unfortunate thief felt very uncomfortable. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_553" id="Page_553">[Pg 553]</a></span> +Nature had endowed him with rather a remarkable physiognomy, and it was +difficult to find a passport to fit him unless it were made on purpose; +so that out of five or six which he had in his possession, not one would +do. At last he made up his mind to walk out of the town without a +passport, as if he were one of the town's-people going for a stroll. He +accordingly took a cane in his hand, and lounging along with an +affectation of great indifference, approached a gate at which the +Austrians were on guard. But the sentry had his orders, and when the +stranger drew near—</p> + +<p>"'Who goes there?' he vociferated.</p> + +<p>"'A friend,' answered the thief.</p> + +<p>"'Advance, friend!' said the sentry with a significant rattle of his +musket—a sort of intimation that non-compliance might be rewarded by a +bullet.</p> + +<p>"The thief walked up to the soldier.</p> + +<p>"'Your passport,' demanded the latter.</p> + +<p>"'My passport!' repeated the thief in tone of infinite astonishment, 'I +have none.'</p> + +<p>"'All the better for you,' said the sentry, shouldering his musket. 'If +you had <i>had</i> one I should have been obliged to send you into the +guard-house to have it examined, and that would have detained you a good +half hour. But since you have no passport you can't show one, so you may +pass.'</p> + +<p>"And the intelligent warrior recommenced his monotonous promenade; while +the thief, profiting by his obliging permission, walked out of the +town."</p> +</div> + +<p>Mannheim, the scene of Kotzebue's death, and his assassin's execution, +could hardly fail to detain M. Dumas. At Frankfort he applies to a +friend for an introduction to some person likely to give him details +concerning Kotzebue and Sand, and his friend procures him a letter +addressed to Mr Widemann, surgeon, Heidelberg. He has no letter for any +body at Mannheim, and after visiting Kotzebue's house, leaves that town +to proceed to Heidelberg. Just outside Mannheim he causes the postilion +to stop, while he contemplates the place of the mad student's execution, +which goes by the name of "<i>Sand's Himmelfahrtwiese</i>," or the meadow of +Sand's ascension to heaven. It is a green meadow intersected by a +rivulet, and situated within a few hundred yards of the town. While +gazing at this field, and trying to conjecture the exact spot where the +scaffold had stood, a stranger approaches of whom our traveller makes an +enquiry. They fall into conversation, and the newcomer proves to be the +governor of the prison in which Sand had been confined. Delighted at +this rencontre, M. Dumas turns back and stops a day or two longer at +Mannheim, copying some letters of Sand's, and collecting materials which +fill several chapters of his book. He learns from his new friend that +the Mr Widemann at Heidelberg, for whom he has a letter, is not only a +surgeon but also the public executioner, although as yet his services +have not been called into request in the latter capacity. It was his +father who decapitated Sand. The Heidelberg executioner is noble by +right of descent. The origin of his family's nobility is given by M. +Dumas as follows:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"The evening of the day on which King Louis of Bavaria was crowned +emperor, there was a splendid ball at the town-hall, at which the +empress was present. Amongst the guests was a cavalier dressed entirely +in black, and having his face covered with a black mask. He invited the +empress to dance: she accepted, and, whilst they were dancing together, +another mask approached the emperor and asked him if he knew who his +wife's partner was. 'No,' replied the emperor, 'but I suppose it is some +sovereign prince.'</p> + +<p>"'Lower than that,' said the mask.</p> + +<p>"'Some nobleman then—a count or baron.'</p> + +<p>"'Lower than that.'</p> + +<p>"'Perhaps with a knight.'</p> + +<p>"'Lower still.'</p> + +<p>"'With an esquire?'</p> + +<p>"'Less than that.'</p> + +<p>"'A page?'</p> + +<p>"'You have not guessed it—lower still.'</p> + +<p>"The emperor flushed crimson with anger.</p> + +<p>"'A groom?' "'If that were all!' answered the unknown with a strange +laugh.</p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_554" id="Page_554">[Pg 554]</a></span> + +<p>"'But who is it then?' cried the emperor.</p> + +<p>"'Tear off his mask and you will see.'</p> + +<p>"The emperor approached the sable cavalier, and tore off his mask. It +was the headsman.</p> + +<p>"'Miscreant!' shouted the emperor, as his sword flashed from the +scabbard, 'commend thy soul to God before thou diest.'</p> + +<p>"'Sire!' replied the headsman, falling on his knees, 'you may kill me if +you will; but the empress has not the less danced with me, and the +dishonour, if dishonour there be, is already incurred. Do better than +that: knight me; and if any one dares to speak evil of her majesty, the +same sword that executes justice shall vindicate her fame.'</p> + +<p>"The emperor reflected for a moment.</p> + +<p>"'The advice is good,' said he at last. 'Henceforward you shall no +longer be called the headsman, but the last of the judges.' Then, giving +him three blows on the shoulder with his sword flat,</p> + +<p>"'Rise!' he continued; 'from this hour you are the lowest among nobles, +and the first amongst burghers.'</p> + +<p>"And accordingly since that day, in all public processions and +ceremonies, the executioner walks by himself, in rear of the nobles and +in front of the commoners."</p> +</div> + +<p>Truly a most fantastical history, and one which leaves us in some doubt +whether it be a genuine legend of Heidelberg, or one of M. Dumas's +dreams in the diligence after dining upon pig and cherry sauce. At any +rate, if not true it is <i>ben trovato</i>.</p> + +<p>Heidelberg, whither M. Dumas next proceeds, is to our mind one of the +pleasantest places near the Rhine, from which river it is now, thanks to +the railroad, within half an hour's journey. The country around is +delightful, and the town itself, owing to its possessing an university, +and to the vast number of strangers who visit and pass through it during +the summer months, is far more lively than most small German towns. The +kind of liveliness, however, caused by the presence of seven or eight +hundred students, is not always of the most agreeable character. It has +been the fashion in England to talk and write a vast deal about German +universities; and sundry well filled, or at least bulky tomes have been +devoted to accounts of the students' mode of life, their duels and +drinkings, and peculiarities of all kinds. Friend Howitt favoured us a +year or two ago with a corpulent volume—translated in part from the +MSS. of some <i>studiosus emeritus</i>—a sort of life in Heidelberg, +entering into great detail concerning university doings, and with +illustrations of a very sportive description; wherein mustached and +bespurred cavaliers are slashing at each other with broad swords, or +cantering over the country mounted upon gallant steeds, and looking +something between Dick Turpins and field-marshals in muftee. 'Tis a sad +thing to have too much imagination—it tempts a man to mislead his +neighbours; and no one who has read friend William's picturesque +descriptions of <i>Student Leben</i>, but would feel grievously disappointed +when he came to investigate the subject for himself. Nothing can be more +puerile and absurd, and in many instances disgusting, than the habitual +pastimes and amusements of the students; or at least of that large +majority of them who attend no lectures and study, nothing that they can +possibly avoid, but look upon their residence at the university as three +or four years to be devoted to smoking, beer-drinking, and scratching +one another's faces in duels. These duels, by the by, are pieces of the +most intense humbug that can be imagined. They take place now in the +large room of the inn at Ziegelhausen, a village on the banks of the +Neckar, about two miles from Heidelberg, and are fought with straight +swords, square but sharp at the extremity, and having guards as big as a +soup-plate.</p> + +<p>Before the fight begins, the combatants don their defensive arms, +consisting of a strong and broad-brimmed hat protecting the head and +eyes, an immense leathern breastplate defending the chest and stomach, a +padded case, also of leather, which shields the arm from wrist to +shoulder, and an impenetrable cravat which protects the neck up to the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_555" id="Page_555">[Pg 555]</a></span> +ears. The nose, and a bit of each cheek, is all that can be possibly +wounded. Thus equipped the heroes set to work, slashing away at each +other, (it is forbidden to thrust,) shaving off pieces of their padded +armour, and looking exceeding fierce and valiant the while; until, +after a greater or less time, according as the combatants are equal in +skill or not, one of them gets a scratch across the nose, or small +eyelet hole in the cheek, which terminates this caricature of a duel. +Since "young Germany" finds amusement in so harmless a practice, it +might very well be allowed them; provided they afterwards, like good +boys, took their books and learned their lessons. But such a proceeding +would be by no means consistent with the <i>Burschen-Freiheit</i>—the +academic freedom of which these hopeful youths make their boast. To +celebrate the valour of the victory, and show sympathy with the +sufferings of the vanquished—whose wound is by this time dressed with +an inch of sticking plaster—the party repairs to a tavern to breakfast; +and there the morning is killed over beer and Rhine wine till one +o'clock, by which time some of them are usually more than half tipsy. +They then repair to the table-d'hôte, dine, drink more, and finally +stagger home to sleep off their libations. We have more than once, in +German university towns, seen students reeling-drunk at four in the +afternoon.</p> + +<p>About seven in the evening, the <i>kneipes</i> or drinking-houses begin to +fill. In all of these there are rooms set apart for the different clubs +of students to assemble in; and in those sanctuaries they put on the +caps and colours of their communities, which they have of late years +been forbidden to wear in public. On the ribands which they wear round +their necks, are inscribed the date of their various duels. A barrel of +beer is now broached, pipes are loaded and lighted, and they sit the +whole evening, sotting, smoking, and singing songs about the Rhine, +liberty, and fatherland, with ear-splitting and interminable choruses of +<i>Viva lera lera</i>. A German student's song generally consists of couplets +of two lines, with a chorus that lasts a quarter of an hour.</p> + +<p>The quantity of beer consumed by some of these heroes is almost +incredible. They become actually bloated with it. One of the most +important and respected persons at a German university is the Beer King, +who ought to be able to drink, not any given quantity, but an unlimited +one; to be perpetually drinking, in short. M. Dumas tells us, that the +reigning monarch of malt at Heidelberg is able to absorb twelve +schoppens of beer, or six of wine, while the clock strikes twelve. A +Heidelberg schoppen is very nearly an English bottle. This is rather +hard to swallow, M. Dumas. Either the drinker is very fast, or the clock +very slow. We can vouch, however, for the scarcely less astonishing +fact, of there being drinkers at the universities who will imbibe +twenty-five bottles of beer at a sitting. The German beer is, of course, +not of a very intoxicating nature.</p> + +<p>From beer to tobacco the transition is natural enough; and we cannot +conclude our gossip about the Rhine without a word or two as to the +frightful abuse made by the Germans of the Indian weed. We are not of +the number of those who condemn the moderate use of tobacco, but, on the +contrary, know right well how to appreciate its soothing and cheering +effects; but the difference is wide between a limited enjoyment of the +habit, and the stupefying, besotting excess to which it is carried by +the Germans. The dirty way, too, in which they smoke, renders the custom +as annoying to those who live amongst them, as it must be unwholesome +and detrimental to themselves. It is possible to smoke much, and yet +cleanly: take the Spaniard for instance—unquestionably a great smoker; +yet the difference between smoking on the Rhine or Elbe, and on the +Manzanares or Ebro, is immense—the one the gluttony and abuse, the +other the refinement of the practice. While Don Español, with his +fragrant <i>puro</i>, or straw or paper covered cigarrito, smoketh cleanly, +spitteth not, uses his tobacco, as he uses most things, like a +gentleman; the <i>werther Deutscher</i> takes his huge pipe, rarely cleaned +and with the essence of tobacco oozing from every joint, and filling it +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_556" id="Page_556">[Pg 556]</a></span> +from a bag, or rather sack, of coarse and vile-smelling tobacco, puffs +forth volumes of smoke, expectorating <i>ad nauseam</i> at intervals of a +minute or less. No considerations of place or person hinder him from +indulging in his favourite pastime. In steam-boats, in diligences, in +the public walks and promenades, into the dining-rooms of hotels, every +where does the pipe intrude itself; carried as habitually as a +walking-cane; and even when not in actual use, emitting the most evil +odour from the bowl and tube, saturated as they are with tobacco juice.</p> + +<p>However unpleasant all this may be to foreigners, especially to English +ladies accustomed to the more cleanly habits of their own countrymen, +the German dames are perfectly reconciled to it. Had we to draw a +picture of domestic felicity on the Rhine, we would sketch it thus:—a +summer evening—a flower garden—a table with tea or coffee—a dozen +chairs occupied by persons of both sexes—the women big-feeted, +blue-eyed, placid creatures, knitting stockings—the men heavy and +awkward, each with a monstrous signet-ring on the dirty forefinger of +his right hand, smoking unceasingly, and puffing the vapour into the +faces of their better halves, who heed it not, and occasionally may even +be seen replenishing with their own delicate digits the enormous +porcelain or meerschaum bowls of the pipes. If you doubt the accuracy of +our description, reader, go and judge for yourself. The distance is +short, and summer is at hand. Put yourself on board a steamboat, whisk +over to Ostend or Antwerp, and thence rail and rattle it down to the +Rhine. You shall not be three days on German soil without encountering a +score such groups as the one we have just sketched.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_MONSTER-MISERY_OF_LITERATURE" id="THE_MONSTER-MISERY_OF_LITERATURE"></a>THE MONSTER-MISERY OF LITERATURE.</h2> + +<h3>BY A MOUSE BORN OF THE MOUNTAIN.</h3> + + +<p>Be under no apprehension, gentle public, that you are about to be kept +in suspense touching the moral of our argumentation, as too often in the +pamphlets addressed in Johnsonian English to Thompsonian understandings, +wherein a pennyworth of matter is set forth by a monstrous quantity of +phrase. We mean to speak to the point; we mean to enlighten your +understanding as by the smiting of a lucifer-match. Refrain, therefore, +from running your eye impatiently along the page, as you are doing at +this moment, in hopes of discovering, italicized, the secret of the +enigma; for we have no intention of keeping you another moment ignorant +that the monster-misery of literature is—guess! Which of you hath hit +it? The monster-misery of literature is—<span class='smcap'>The Circulating Library</span>!</p> + +<p>In this devout conviction, devote we to the infernal gods the memory of +the Athenian republic—the first keeper of a circulating library. Every +tyro is aware that this Sams or Ebers of antiquity lent out to Ptolemy +of Egypt, for a first-rate subscription of fifteen talents, the works of +Euripides, Eschylus, and Sophocles; thereby affording a precedent for +the abominable practice, fatal to bookmakers and booksellers, which has +converted the waters of Castalia into their present disgraceful puddle!</p> + +<p>Every scribbler of the day who has a Perryian pen in hand, is pleased to +exercise it on the decline of the drama; one of the legitimate targets +of penny-a-liners. But how inadequately are the goose quills, and +ostrich quills, phoenix quills, and roc quills, of the few standard +critics of the age, directed towards the monstrous abuse of public +patience which will render the Victorian age the sad antithesis of the +Elizabethan, in the literary history of the land! Content so long as +they can get a new work, <i>tale quale</i>, as a peg whereon to hang the +rusty garments of their erudition, not a straw care they for the +miserable decline and fall of the great empire of letters; an empire +overrun by what Goths—what Huns—what Vandals!—by the iniquitous and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_557" id="Page_557">[Pg 557]</a></span> +barbarous hosts of circulating libraries!</p> + +<p>It has been agreed for some centuries past, that the only modern Mæcenas +is the publisher. The days of patrons are past; and the author is +forced to look for the reward of his labour to the man who, by selling +the greatest number of copies to the public, can bestow the greatest +number of pounds upon his pains. In order to augment this amount, the +bibliopole naturally consults the taste of his customers; and nearly the +sole remaining customers of the modern bookseller are—the circulating +libraries. For what man in his senses who, for an annual mulct of +half-a-dozen sovereigns, commands the whole range of modern literature, +would waste his substance in loading his house with books of doubtful +interest? Who that, by a message of his servant into Bond Street, +procures the last new novel cut and dry, instead of wet from the press, +and demanding the labour of the paper-knife, would proceed to the +extremity of a purchase? And the result is, that Messrs Folio and +Duodecimo, in order to procure satisfactory orders from the circulating +libraries of the multitudinous cities of this deluded empire, issue +orders to their helots, Mr Scribblescrawl and Mrs Wiredrawn, requiring +them to produce per annum so many sets of three volumes, adapted to the +atmosphere wherein they are fated to flourish.</p> + +<p>It is an avowed fact, that the publishers of the day will purchase the +copyrights of only such works as "the libraries will take;" which +libraries, besotted by the mystic charm of three volumes, immutable as +the sacred triad of the Graces or Destinies, would negative without a +division such a work as the "Vicar of Wakefield" were it now to undergo +probation. "Robinson Crusoe" or "Paul and Virginia" would be returned +unread to their authors, with a civil note of "extremely sorry to +decline," &c. "The Man of Feeling" would be made to feel his +insignificance. "Thinks I to Myself" might think in vain; and the +"Cottagers of Glenburnie" retain their rural obscurity. So much for the +measure of the maw of the circulating library. Of its taste and palate +it is difficult to speak with moderation; for those of Caffraria or +Otaheite might be put to the blush.</p> + +<p>The result, however, of this fatal ascendancy is, that not a publisher +who has the fear of the <i>Gazette</i> before his eyes, presumes to hazard a +guinea on speculations in the belles-lettres. Poetry is seldom, if ever, +published except at the cost of the poet; and the foreman of one of the +leading London houses is deputed to apprize aspiring rhymesters, that +"his firm considers poetry a mild species of insanity"—<i>Anglice</i>, that +it does not suit the appetite of the circulating library! For behold! +this despot of bookmakers must have length, breadth, and thickness, to +fill the book boxes dispatched to its subscribers in the country, as +well as satisfy in town the demands of its charming subscriber, Lady +Sylvester Daggerwood, and all her daughters.</p> + +<p>It happens that the said Lady Sylvester does not like Travels, unless +"nice little ladylike books of travels," such as the Quarterly informed +us last year, in a fit of fribbledom, were worthy the neat little +crowquills of lady-authors. Nor will she hear of Memoirs, unless light, +sparkling, and scandalous, as nearly resembling those of Grammont as +decency will allow. Essays she abominates; nor can she exactly +understand the use of quartoes, unless, as Swift describes the merit of</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"A Chrysostom to smooth his band in"—</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>to serve for flattening between the leaves her rumpled embroidery or +netting!</p> + +<p>Now you are simply and respectfully asked, beloved public, what must be +the feelings of a man of genius, or of any sensible scholarly +individual, when, after devoting years of his life to a work of standard +excellence—a work such as in France would obtain him access to the +Academy, or in Russia or Prussia a pension and an order of merit—he is +told by the publisher, who in Great Britain supplies the place of these +fountains of honour and reward, that "the public of the present day has +no taste for serious reading;" for Messrs Folio and Duodecimo cannot, of +course, afford to regard a few dons of the universities, or a few county +bookclubs, parsonically presided, as representatives of the public! What +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_558" id="Page_558">[Pg 558]</a></span> +the disappointed man, thus enlightened, must think of "glorious Apollo" +when he goes to bed that night, we should be sorry to conjecture!</p> + +<p>"The public of the present day"—<i>Ang.</i> the subscribers to the +circulating libraries—constitute, to his cultivated mind, a world +unknown. The public <i>he</i> has been wasting his life to address, is such a +public as was addressed by Addison, by Swift, by Steele, or by the +greater writers of the days of Elizabeth. "Bless his fine wits," we +could laugh at his misconception, were we not rather inclined to cry! In +instances easy to be cited, (but that there were miching malecho in the +deed,) insult has been added to injury, and the anguish depicted in the +face of the mortified man of letters been assuaged by friendly advice to +"try his hand at something more saleable—something in the style of +Harrison Ainsworth or Peter Priggins!"</p> + +<p>O ye Athenians! to what base uses have we come, by the influence of your +malpractices of old!</p> + +<p>But all this is far from the blackest side of the picture. You have seen +only the fortunes of the rejected of the circulating libraries; wait +till you have studied the fate of their favourites—victims whom, like +the pet-dogs of children, the publishers force to stand on their +hind-legs, and be bedizened in their finery; or pet pussy-cats, whom +they fondle into wearing spectacles and feeding on macaroones, instead +of pursuing their avocations as honest mousers. The favourite author of +the circulating libraries has a great deal to envy in the treadmill!</p> + +<p>In the days when there existed a reading, in place of a skimming +public—in the days when circulating libraries were not—the writer who +followed his own devices in the choice of the subject, plot, title, +treatment, and extent of his book, and made his labour a labour of love, +had some chance of being cherished as the favourite of the fireside; +installed on the shelf, and taken down, like Goldsmith or Defoe or +Bunyan, for an hour's gossip; cried over by the young girl of the +family, diverting the holiday of the schoolboy, and exercising the +eyesight of the good old grandmother. But how is this ever to be +achieved nowadays? Who will be ever thumbed over and spelled over as +these have been?</p> + +<p>"Invent another Vicar or another Crusoe," say the critics, "and you will +see."</p> + +<p>We should <span class='smcap'>not</span> see! No bookseller would publish them, because "no +circulating library would take them;" for these bibliopoles know to a +page what will be taken. Several of them have got, and several others +have had, the conduct of a circulating library on their hands; and so +far from venturing to present a single-volumed or double-volumed work to +their subscribers, they would insist upon the dilution of the genius of +Oliver or Daniel into the adequate number of pages ere they risked paper +and print. O public! O dear, ingenuous public! Think how you might have +ceased to delight in even the cosmogony-man, if his part had been a +hundred times rehearsed in your ears; or what the matchless Lady Blarney +and the incomparable Miss Carolina Wilhelmina Amelia Skeggs (I love, as +old Primrose says, to repeat the whole name) might have become, as the +"light conversationists" of three octavo volumes! Shakspeare was forced +to kill Mercutio early in the play, lest Mercutio should kill <i>him</i>. We +feel a devout conviction that Miss Carolina Wilhelmina Amelia Skeggs +would have burked Goldsmith!</p> + +<p>And then the incomparable Robinson! Conceive the interlarding of a funny +Mrs Friday to eke out the matter, with a comical king of the Cannibal +islands "to lighten the story"—according to circulating library demand! +Unhappy Defoe! thy standing in the pillory had been as nothing compared +with such a condemnation!</p> + +<p>We beseech you, therefore, deluded public, when assured by critical +misleadment that such writers no longer exist, do, as you are often +requested to do by letters in the newspapers—from parties remanded by +the police-offices for some hanging matter—"suspend your judgment," or +you will deserve credit for very little. We promise you that there <i>are</i> +giants on the earth in these days, ay, and famous giants of their +cubits! But when a giant is made to drivel, his drivelings are very +little better than those of a pigmy. And we swear to you, (under +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_559" id="Page_559">[Pg 559]</a></span> +correction from the parish vestry, which is entitled to half-a-crown an +oath,) that the circulating libraries would make a driveler of Seneca! +Under the circulating library tyranny, Johnson himself would have been +forced to break up his long words into smaller pieces, to supply due +volume for three volumes.</p> + +<p>Above all, we have no hesitation in declaring that the circulating +libraries are indictable for manslaughter, in the matter of the death of +Scott. They killed him, body and soul! In better times, when books were +bought, not hired, the sale of the first half dozen of his mighty novels +would have sufficed both the public and the author for thrice as many +years. They would have been purchased by all people of good condition, +as the works of Richardson were purchased, and read, and conned, and got +by heart. But behold! the circulating libraries "wanted novelty." It +suited them better to invest their capital in half a dozen new and +trashy books—such as extend their catalogue from No. 2470 to +2500—instead of half a dozen copies of the one sterling work, which +increases their stock in trade and diminishes their stock in consols, +but leaves the catalogue, which is the advertisement of their +perfections, halting at No. 2470.</p> + +<p>Now, as it happened that the same boss of constructiveness which has +endowed our language with such a world of creations from the pen of +Scott, betrayed him also into inventiveness <i>per</i> force of brick and +mortar—just as the same bent of genius which created the <i>Castle of +Otranto</i>, created also that other colossus of lath and plaster, +<i>Strawberry Hill</i>—the author of the Scotch novels was fain to sacrifice +to the evil genius of the times; and behold! as the assiduous slave of +the circulating libraries, he extinguished one of the greatest spirits +of Great Britain. But for the hateful factory system of the twice three +volumes per annum, he would have been still alive among us—happy and +happy-making, in a green old age—watching over the maturity of his +grandchildren, and waited upon by the worship of the land.</p> + +<p>Therefore again we say, as we said a short time ago,—O ye Athenians! +what have ye not to answer for in the consequence of your malpractices +of old!</p> + +<p>The only great success of the day in works of fiction, (for the laurels +of Bulwer have been spindled among the rest by the factitious atmosphere +of the circulating libraries), is that of Boz. And we attribute, in a +great measure, the enormous circulation of his early works, to their +having set at defiance the paralysing influence of the monster-misery. +Shilling numbers were as the dragon's teeth. They rose up like armed +men, and slew the circulating librarians. People were forced to buy them +if they wanted to read them; and they were bought. Those who desired to +read "Night and Morning," were not forced to purchase it, and it was not +bought; and the circulation of the two works consequently remains as +2000 to 35,000 copies.</p> + +<p>The state and prospects of authors, however, concerns you less, dear +public, than the state and prospects of literature. You are a +contemplative body of men, and can see into a millstone as far as most +nations. You make leagues and anti-leagues for the sake of your morsel +of bread; and teach the million to sing to your own tune; and, weary of +keeping your heads above water, tunnel your way below it; nor will you +allow the suffering shirtmakers of your metropolis to be put upon, nor +Don Carlos, nor Queen Pomaré, nor any other victim of oppression. You +applauded Alice Lowe, and shook hands with Courvoisier at the gallows; +and it is clear you stand no nonsense, and bear no malice.</p> + +<p>Be so good, therefore, as seriously to consider what sort of figure you +will cut in the eyes of posterity, if this kind of thing is suffered to +go on.</p> + +<p>There is not one publisher in the three kingdoms (we throw down the +gauntlet) who would give an adequate sum of money for any new historical +work. There is not one publisher in the three kingdoms who would give +even a moderate sum for a poem. We state the case liberally; for our +conviction is, that they would refuse one poor half-crown. So much for +the <i>prospects</i>; for, without a premium production is null.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_560" id="Page_560">[Pg 560]</a></span></p> + +<p>As regards the state of literature, take out your pencils, (you all +carry pencils, to calculate either the long odds or the odds on +'Change,) and make out a list of the works published during the last +five years, likely to be known, <i>even by name</i>, a hundred years hence! +It is some comfort to feel, that <i>by sight</i> they cannot be known—that +few of them will survive to disgrace us—that the circulating libraries +possess the one merit of wear and tear for the destruction of their +filthy generation, like Saturn of old; for it would grieve us to think +of even the trunks of the two thousandth century being lined with what +lines the brains of our contemporaries. So that in the year of grace two +thousand and forty-four, we shall have the Lady Blarney of Kilburn +Square (the Grosvenor Square of that epoch,) enquiring of the Miss +Carolina Wilhelmina Amelia Skeggs of Croydon Place (the Belgium +Square)—"My dear soul, what <i>could</i> those poor people do to amuse +themselves? They had positively <i>no</i> books! After Scott's time till the +middle of the nineteenth century not a single novelist; after the death +of Byron, not a poet! I believe there was an historian of the name of +Hallam, not much heard of; and the other day, at a book-stall, I picked +up an odd volume of an odd writer named Carlyle. But it is really +curious to consider how utterly the belles-lettres were in abeyance."</p> + +<p>To which, of course, Miss C. W. A. S.—(even Dr Panurge could not get +through the whole name again!)—"My dear love! they had Blackwood's +Magazine, which, like the Koran after the burning of the Alexandrian +library, supplied the place of ten millions of volumes!"</p> + +<p>But, alas! some Burchell may be sitting by, to exclaim "<span class='smcap'>fudge</span>!" Some +groper into archives will bring forth one of those +never-to-be-sufficiently-abominated catalogues of Bond and other +streets, showing that, on a moderate calculation, twenty books were +published per diem, which, at the end of three months, possessed the +value of so many bushels of oyster-shells!</p> + +<p>And then, pray, what will you have to say for yourselves, O public! from +your tombs in Westminster Abbey or your catacombs at Kensal Green? Which +among you will dare come forward, with blue lights in his hand and +accompanied by a trombone, like the ghost of Ninus in Semiramide, and +say—"We warned these people to write for immortality. We told them it +was their duty to stick in a few oaks for posterity, as well as their +Canada poplars and Scotch firs. It was not our fault that they chose to +grow nothing but underwood. It was the fault of the circulating +libraries, which, instead of allowing the milk of human genius to set +for cream, diluted it with <i>malice prepense</i>, and drenched us with milk +and water even to loathing!"</p> + +<p>No, dear public! you will put your hand in your breeches' pocket like a +crocodile, as you do now, and say nothing. Yon are fully aware how much +of the fault is your own; but you are stultified and hardened to shame. +With the disgrace of your National Gallery, and National Regency +Buildings, and Pimlico Palace, and all your other vulgarisms and +trivialities on your shoulders, you bully your way out of your disgrace +of duncehood, like Mike Lambourne on forgetting his part in the +Kenilworth pageant. "For your part, you can do very well without +book-learning. You've got Shakspeare, and if with that a nation can't +face the literature of Europe, the deuce is in it! With Cocker's +arithmetic and Shakspeare, any public that knows what it's about, may +snap its fingers at the world!"</p> + +<p>Such, such are the demoralizing results of the ascendancy of the +circulating libraries! Such is the monster-misery of literature!</p> + +<p>Again, therefore, we say, confound those fifteen talents! What have ye +not to answer for, O ye Athenians! in the consequences of your +malpractices of old!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="MARSTON_OR_THE_MEMOIRS_OF_A_STATESMAN" id="MARSTON_OR_THE_MEMOIRS_OF_A_STATESMAN"></a>MARSTON; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A STATESMAN.</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_561" id="Page_561">[Pg 561]</a></span></p> + +<h3>PART XI.</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Have I not in my time heard lions roar?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have I not heard the sea, puft up with wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have I not heard great ordnance in the field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Heavens artillery thunder in the skies?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have I not in the pitched battle heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets clang?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><span class='smcap'>Shakspeare</span></p> + + +<p>Our procession had more than the usual object of those dreadful +displays: it was at once an act of revenge and an act of policy. During +the period while the gates of the convent shut out the living world from +us, a desperate struggle had been going on between the two ruling +factions. In this contest for life and death, the more furious, of +course, triumphed; such is the history of rabble revolution in all ages. +The Girondist with his eloquence naturally fell before the Jacobin with +his libel; the Girondist, affecting a deference for law, was trampled by +the Jacobin, who valued nothing but force; the tongue and the pen were +extinguished by the dagger; and this day was the consummation. A debate +in the Convention, of singular talent and unexampled ferocity, had +finished by the impeachment of the principal Girondists. Justice here +knew nothing of the "law's delay;" and the fallen orators now headed our +melancholy line, bound, bareheaded, half naked, and more than half dead +with weariness, shame, and the sense of ruin;—there could scarcely be +more in the blow which put an end to all their perturbations on this +side of the grave.</p> + +<p>We had frequent halts, and I had full leisure to gaze around; for, +rapidly as the guillotine performed its terrible task, our procession +had been extended by some additional victims from every prison which we +passed; and we passed so many that I began to think the city one vast +dungeon. What strange curiosity is it that could collect such myriads to +look upon us? Every street was crowded with a living mass; every +casement was filled; every roof presented a line of eyes straining for a +glance below. Instead of the crowd of a populous city, I could have +believed that I saw the population of a kingdom poured in and compressed +into the narrow streets through which we wound our slow way. From time +to time a shout arose, as some conspicuous member of the Convention made +his appearance in the vehicle of death: then execrations, scoffs, and +insults, of every bitterness, were poured upon the unfortunate being; +who seldom attempted to retaliate, or make any other return but a +gesture of despair, or a supplication to be suffered to die in peace. +Yet all was not cruelty nor insensibility. I saw instances, where +friends, bold enough to brave the vengeance of the government, rushed +forward to take a last grasp of the hand that must so soon be cold; and +my heart was wrung by partings between still dearer objects and the +condemned;—wives rushing forward through the multitude; children held +up to their father's arms; beautiful and graceful young women, forcing +their wild way through the line of troops, to take a last look, and +exchange a last word, with those whom they would have rejoicingly +followed to the tomb.</p> + +<p>Our progress lasted half the day, and the sun was already near its +setting, when the waggon in which I sat turned into the Place de Grève. +But I must, I dare, describe no more. I shall not say what I saw in that +general receptacle of the day of horror—the range of low biers which +lay surrounding the scaffold, now the last resting-place of men who had +but a few hours before flourished in the full possession of every +faculty of our being; and, still more, with all those faculties in the +full ardour of public life—with brilliant ambition to stimulate, with +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_562" id="Page_562">[Pg 562]</a></span> +prospects of boundless power to reward, and with that most exhilarating +and tempting spell of human existence, popular acclamation, resounding +in their ears. I had known some of them, I had seen then all; and now I +saw those highly gifted, vigorously practised, and fiery-souled men, +shaken down in an instant like a shock of corn; swept to death as if +they were but so many weeds; extinguished in a moment, and in another +moment flung aside, a heap of clay, to make room for other dead. And +this was Republicanism—this the reign of knowledge, the triumph of +freedom, the glory of political regeneration! Even in that most trying +moment, when I saw the waggon, in which I remained the last survivor but +one, give up my unfortunate companion to the executioner, my parting +words to him, as I shook his cold hand, were—"Better the forest and the +savage than republicanism! Doubly cursed be murder, when it takes the +name of freedom!"</p> + +<p>I then resolved to see and hear no more; gave a brief and still a fond +recollection to England; and, committing my spirit to a still higher +care, I bowed my forehead on my hands, like one laying down his head for +the final blow!</p> + +<p>But while I was still thus absorbed I heard a sudden shout, the +trampling of cavalry, and the sound of trumpets. I again raised my eyes. +A strong body of French troopers, covered with the dust of the +high-road, and evidently exhausted by a long journey, were passing along +the <i>quai</i> which bordered the scene of execution. In the midst of these +squadrons were seen Austrian standards surmounted by the tricolor, and +evidently carried as trophies. The rumour now ran quickly through the +spectators, that Flanders had been entered, that the enemy had been +routed, and that a column of Austrian prisoners was passing through the +streets, of which those squadrons formed the escort.</p> + +<p>What could now detain the multitude? The public curiosity would probably +have defied grape-shot; with one burst they poured from the square. When +the populace went, why should the National Guard stay behind?—were they +not as much entitled to satisfy their curiosity? Three-fourths of the +guard instantly piled their muskets, leaving them in care of their less +zealous or more lazy fellow warriors, and ran after the multitude. The +executioners were like other men; equally touched by their "country's +glory," and fond of a spectacle. They dropped by twos and threes quietly +from the sides of the scaffold, and made their way to the <i>quai</i>. In the +mean time I was left disregarded; but I was still fettered, or I should +have jumped from the waggon, and taken my chance for escape. All had +evidently come to a full stop, and even that horrible machine, above my +head, had ceased to clank and crush; for what is a spectacle in France +without an audience? The chief headsman, with two or three of his +assistants, true to their post, alone remained—waiting for the return +of the people; yet even they cast many a lingering glance towards the +pageant, whose plumes, flags, and kettledrums, passing across the +entrance of the square, made their patriotism more difficult from minute +to minute. At length the trumpets died away, and, to my renewed +despondency, I saw the crowd again thicken towards me and the few +remaining vehicles, which that day, now sinking into twilight, was to +empty of their victims.</p> + +<p>But I was again respited. While I awaited the summons to mount the fatal +steps, a party of dragoons rode into the square, seized every waggon +without a moment's delay, and ordered the whole to be driven out for the +reception of a column of wounded, both French and Austrians; who, having +been brought to the city gates, now waited the means of transport to the +great military hospital at Vincennes.</p> + +<p>In this country of expedients, the first suggestion is always the best. +The colonel of dragoons in charge of the column, had applied to the +government for the means of carriage; they referred him to the +municipality, who referred him to the staff of the National Guard; who +referred him to the subprefect; who referred him to his subordinate +functionaries; who knew nothing on the subject; until the colonel, +indignant at the impertinences of office, accidentally heard that the +requisite conveyances were to be seen in front of the Hotel de Ville. +Regarding it as the natural right of the soldier to be first served in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_563" id="Page_563">[Pg 563]</a></span> +all cases, he sent off a squadron at full speed to make his seizure. +Nothing could be more complete. The affair was settled at once. The +remonstrances of the civil officers against our being thus withdrawn +from their grasp, were answered by bursts of laughter at their +impudence, and blows with the flat of the sabre for their presumption; +for, next to the open reprobation of the army for the civic cruelties, +was their scorn of the civic functionaries. The National Guard made some +feeble display of resistance, but soon showed that they had no wish to +try their bayonets against those expert handlers of the sword; and the +event was, that the whole train of fifty or sixty waggons, of which +about a tenth remained full, were hurried away at full gallop down to +the Boulevard, leaving the scaffold a sinecure. At the barrier a new +arrangement took place; the wounded were piled into the carriages along +with us, and the whole were marched under escort to the grand depot of +the garrison of Paris.</p> + +<p>I had seen Vincennes before, and under trying circumstances; its +frowning physiognomy had not been altered, nor, as a prison, was it more +congenial to my feelings than before. Yet, on hearing the hollow tread +of our horses' feet over its drawbridge, and seeing myself actually +within its massive walls, I experienced a feeling of satisfaction which +I had never expected to enjoy within bolts and bars. In this world +contrast is every thing. I had been so fevered with alternate peril and +escape, so sick of doubt, and so perplexed with the thousand miseries of +flight; that, to find myself secure from casualty for the next +twenty-four hours, and relieved from the trouble of thinking for myself, +or thinking of any thing, was a relief which amounted almost to a +pleasure. I never laid myself down to sleep with greater thankfulness, +than when, stretched on the wooden guard-bed of the barrack-room, where +the whole crowd of prisoners were packed together, I listened to the +beat of the night-drum and the changing of the guard. They told me that, +for once at least, I might sleep without a police-officer, to bid me, +like Master Barnardine, "arise and be hanged."</p> + +<p>Time in a garrison is the most lingering of all conceivable things, +except time in a prison. I had it, loaded with the double weight. There +was no resource to be found in the fractured and bandaged portion of +human nature round me. The Austrians were brave boors, who spoke nothing +but Styrian or Carinthian, or some border dialect, which nothing but +barbarism had ever heard of, and which nothing but Austrian organs could +have ever pronounced. The French recruits were from provinces which had +their own "beloved patois," and which, to the Parisian, held nearly the +same rank of civilized respect as the Kingdom of Ashantee. Besides, it +was to be remembered, that all round me was a scene of suffering—the +dismal epilogue of a field of battle; or rather the dropping of the +curtain on the royal stage, when the glitter and the noise were gone by, +and the actors reduced from their pomps and vanities, and sent home to +the shivering necessities of poor human existence.</p> + +<p>Life to me was now as stagnant as the ditch round the fortress; all +feeling was as languid as the heavy air of our casemates. The mind lost +all curiosity relative to the external world; and, beyond the casual +knowledge which dropped, with all official mystery, from the lips of our +worthy governor, and which told us that the war still continued, and +that the armies of the Republic were "invincible beyond all power of +human resistance;" we could not have been much more separated from +sympathy, even with the capital itself, if we had been transported to +one of the belts of Jupiter.</p> + +<p>But a new alarm now seized me. The extreme indifference with which I had +begun to regard all things, at length struck the eye of one of the +military surgeons, who had been sent from Paris in consequence of the +influx of prisoners. He seemed to take some interest in my consumptive +visage and lack-lustre eye; asked me whether "some of my family had not +died early in life," and offered to dictate my pursuits and regimen. The +French are by nature a kindly people, with this one proviso, that, +though every Frenchman on earth is more or less a <i>persifleur</i>, you must +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_564" id="Page_564">[Pg 564]</a></span> +never practise the art upon himself. M. Rossignol Perigord Pantoufle +would have been an incomparable subject for the exercise, for he was +eccentricity from top to toe. But the state of my spirits prevented my +taking any share in the burlesque which too frequently befell this +worthy person; and he attached himself to me as a sort of refuge from +the sly, but stinging, persecution of his fellow-officers. When the +hen-wife plucks the goose's bosom it makes her nestle more closely to +her goslings. It was the calamity of my friend Pantoufle to be born with +what the novelists call a "too feeling heart;" he was always in love +with some one or another, and always jilted. But misfortune was thrown +away upon him; he was still a complete sensitive plant, shivering and +shrinking at every new touch: a dish of <i>blancmange</i> could not have +shaken with a slighter impulse, nor a shape of jelly more easily +dissolved. He was now past fifty; and, never much indebted to nature in +his youth, time, the foe to beauty, had been more than a foe to the +doctor. I never recollect to have seen a figure or physiognomy less +fitted to disturb the female soul. But he made me the confidant of his +woes; and if I did not, like Desdemona, "to him seriously incline," at +least I never laughed, amusing as were his agonies, and diverting as was +his despair. I had either the presence of mind, or the feebleness of +pulse, to look and listen;—the art has succeeded in higher places than +prisons.</p> + +<p>Yet all was not sentimentality with him. He was an honest and +high-spirited man in the main. He questioned me—and no question could +then be a bolder one at the time—in what manner he could best serve me. +My answer was immediate—"Find out the commercial house of Elnathan, and +tell the head of the family that I am here." The service was done, and I +received for answer, on my friend's return from his ride to the Rue +Vivienne—"That the firm kept no account with any person of my name; and +that they had no desire to have any further application on the subject." +The doctor, too, had been received with such gathering of black brows, +and such murmurs between indignation and astonishment; that if Rabbi +Elnathan had not been deemed altogether beneath the vengeance of "an +officer in the service of the Republic," the consequence would have been +a proposal to choose his own time to be run through the body in the +Champs Elysées.</p> + +<p>It was late when my ambassador had returned, and I had begun to feel +some alarm for his peril by other than the shafts of Cupid in the +rashness of exposing him to the jealous eye of his government, or +perhaps to the denunciation of the Jewish firm, who, to screen +themselves, might hasten with the intelligence to the first +police-office. And I had an uneasy walk of a couple of hours, gazing +from the ramparts, for every movement in the direction of the capital. +The night was calm, and the glow of the lamps in the streets strikingly +marked their outline; when on a sudden the sky was filled with flame of +every colour, shot up in all directions, the cannon round the barriers +began to roar, and Montmartre was in a perpetual blaze. It was plain +that some extraordinary event had occurred; but whether this were the +fall of the triumvirate or of their enemies, a new revolution or a new +monarch, was beyond our knowledge; we were all hermetically sealed up in +Vincennes; and if Paris had been buried in its own catacombs at the +moment, the news would have been doled out to us only in the segments +which suited the dignity of the governor.</p> + +<p>But Pantoufle for once was popular in the fortress. If he had brought +nothing to raise my spirits, his tidings threw the garrison into +ecstasy. The Republic "had gained a great victory," whose value was +enhanced by the previous disasters of the campaign. The favourite of the +French armies, too, had gained that victory. This was another feature of +the rejoicing. Dumourier was one of the people; "no noble, no +aristocrat, no son of landed wealth, no lord of forests and feeder on +privileges." He had been a simple captain of engineers; he was now +conqueror of those Austrian provinces on which France had cast an eager +eye for centuries. That prize, which all the monarchs of France, with +all their titled marshals, had never been able to seize, "the Republic, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_565" id="Page_565">[Pg 565]</a></span> +with a republican army and a republican general, had won in the first +month of her first invasion."</p> + +<p>The garrison, of course, had its fireworks, its salute from the +ramparts, and its <i>feu de joie</i>. But, in the midst of the festivity, I +observed Pantoufle's countenance loaded with some mighty secret. He +broke it to me with the air of a man revealing a conspiracy. Taking me +on one side, while the ramparts were blazing with blue-lights, and every +man, woman, and child of the garrison were chattering, huzzaing, and +waltzing round us; he communicated to me the solemn fact, that his heart +had been pierced again. This execution had been done while he was +waiting in Elnathan's counting-house: a young Rachel or Rebecca had +accidentally glanced across his sight, with such inimitable eyes, that +his fate was decided for life. The world was valueless without her; and +my particular advice was requested as to the way in which he was to make +his approaches. I advised a sonnet. He smiled, and acknowledged that he +had anticipated my advice, and had spent an hour of that twilight, dear +to love and the muses, during which he had kept me in all the +discomforts of suspense, devoting all the energies of his soul to the +composition of a song to the beauties of the irresistible Israelite. +Boileau has told the world, that a poet once insisted on his listening +to an ode of his composition, while they were kneeling together at high +mass. Our situation might not be quite as solemn, but the doctor was +quite as pressing; and seated on the corner of a bastion, while the guns +were roaring above our heads, I listened to an effusion in the most +established style of sexagenarian poetry.</p> + + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Rachel est sans désirs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">C'est un bouton de rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Que la nature arrose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Et dispose à s'ouvrir.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dans son cour sans detour,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Il n'est pas jour encore;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Il attend pour eclore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Un rayon de l'amour!"<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + + + +<p>I listened without a laugh, and won the eternal gratitude of the writer. +Nothing could be clearer than that, whatever the effusion might owe to +the inspiration of Cupid, Apollo had no share in its charm. On my part, +it would probably have been an act of the truest friendship, to have bid +him burn his tablets, forswear poetry for ever, and regard himself as +forbidden the temptations of the maids of Parnassus. But I should have +broken his heart. I took the simpler but more effectual cure—I bade him +find out this idol, and marry her. Before I forget him and his sorrows, +let me mention, that he took my advice, and that, on my return to the +Continent some years after, I found the poet transferred into the +benedict, with a pretty wife at his side, and a circle of lively +children at his knee—an active, thriving, and rational member of the +community. I always quote the doctor, for the superiority of the +soothing system. The vinegar of criticism would have festered the wounds +of his vanity; the art of (must I call it) flattery healed them. It left +a scar, I acknowledge; for the doctor still wrote verses, and still had +a lurking propensity for climbing the slippery slope of poetic renown. +But the realities of life are fortunate correctives to this passion, +and, like Piron, luckily</p> + + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Il ne fut rien<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pas même academician."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>But on this night our "intercourse of souls" was interrupted by one of +those painful evidences of the renewal of hostilities which shows war in +its truest aspect. A long column of vehicles, which we had seen moving +for some time across the plain, and whose movement, by the torches of +the escort, looked from the ramparts like the trailing of an immense +phosphoric serpent, approached the gates. The announcement was soon made +that it was a large detachment of prisoners and wounded, who had arrived +from the desperate but decisive battle in Flanders. All the medical +officers of the garrison were immediately in requisition; and the sights +which I saw, even when standing at the gate, as the carts and cars +rolled over the drawbridge, were sufficient to startle feelings more +used to such terrible demonstrations of the folly or the frenzy of the +world. But this was no time to indulge indolent sensibilities. Of +course, I have no desire to enter into the startling details of that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_566" id="Page_566">[Pg 566]</a></span> +spectacle. But mastering myself so far, as to volunteer my attendance +for the time in the hospital, the thought often occurred to me, that +there could be no better lesson for the love of conquest than a walk +through a military hospital after the first battle.</p> + +<p>This anxious service lasted during the greater part of the night; for +the wounded amounted to little less than a thousand, both French and +foreign. But as I was returning to my mattress, I recollected the +countenance of a prisoner standing at the door of one of the chambers +set apart for officers of the higher rank. The man put his hand to his +shako, and addressed me in German;—he was one of the squadron of Hulans +whom I had commanded in the Prussian retreat, and who had rejoined his +regiment after the skirmish with the French dragoons. He expressed great +delight in finding that I was a survivor. But "on whom was he now in +attendance?" "On Major-General Count Varnhorst." He told me that the +general had volunteered to join the Austrian army in the Netherlands, +and taking the Hulan with him, had been wounded in covering the retreat, +been found on the field, and was now in the hands of the surgeons in +that chamber!</p> + +<p>I pass briefly over this scene. I found my brave friend apparently at +the point of death; he had been wounded by the sabre, trampled under +horses' hoofs, and crushed in every imaginable way, in the course of the +desperate defence which he made against an overwhelming force of the +enemy's cavalry. The officers of the escort were loud in reports of his +almost frantic gallantry; but he was now so exhausted by the length of +the march as to be almost insensible: he knew no one; and his case, +after a day or two, was pronounced beyond all cure. It was then that I +obtained permission to watch over him, and at least provide that he +should not be disturbed in his closing hours. Care is often more than +science, and care succeeded in this instance, against all the ominous +looks of the medical staff. I so much delighted Pantoufle, by having +thus overthrown the authority of a pragmatical <i>confrère</i>, who had been +peculiarly stern in his prognostics; that he made the proposal to me of +joining him in the chances of his profession. "I shall fix myself in +Paris," said he; "fame will be the inevitable consequence, and fortune +will follow; here you shall be my successor." I fought off the prospect +as well as I could, and pleaded my want of professional knowledge. His +countenance, at the words, would have been an incomparable study of +mingled burlesque and scorn. He instanced a whole crowd of leading men, +whom he unceremoniously designated as having made fortunes, not by +knowledge, but simply by its absence. "Their ignorance," said he, "gives +them effrontery, and effrontery is the grand secret of fame. You are an +Englishman and a philosopher,"—the latter expression uttered with a +curl of the lip and an elevation of the brow, which evidently translated +the word, a fool. "You take things circuitously, while success lies in +the straight line; thus you fail, we triumph."</p> + +<p>I admitted the rapidity of his countrymen.</p> + +<p>"In France," said he, or rather exclaimed, "two things conduct to +renown; and but two—to stop at nothing, and never to admit ignorance in +any thing; in medicine, to cure or kill without delay; in surgery, to +operate at all risks. If the patient dies, there are fifty reasons for +it; if the surgeon hesitates, the public will allow of but one. Politics +are not within my line, and the subject is just now a delicate one; but +you see that the secret of renown is, to run on the edge of the +scaffold. In soldiership the principle is the same—always to fight, +whenever you can find any body to fight with; you will deserve to be +famous, or deserve to be guillotined.'</p> + +<p>"Perhaps both," I remarked.</p> + +<p>"Nothing more probable. But still something is done; inaction does +nothing. Look at Dumourier; he has had no more necessity for fighting +this battle, than for jumping from the parapet of Notre-Dame. But he has +fought, he has conquered; and, instead of throwing himself from the +parapet of Notre-Dame, which he probably would have done in the next +fortnight's <i>ennui</i> in Paris, all Paris is placarded with his +bulletins."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_567" id="Page_567">[Pg 567]</a></span> </p> + +<p>"But he <i>might</i> have been beaten; he might have been ruined, or brought +to trial for rashness; or to an Austrian prison, like La Fayette."</p> + +<p>"Of course he might. But the question is of the fact—let prophets deal +with the future. He <i>has</i> beaten the Austrians; he <i>has</i> conquered +Flanders; he <i>has</i> made himself the first man of France by the act, for +which, if he had been an Austrian general, he would have been brought to +a court-martial, his victory pronounced contrary to rule, his bravery a +breach of etiquette, and the rest of his days, if he was not shot on the +ramparts of Vienna, spent in a dungeon in Prague. Take my advice; dash +at every thing; risk is the grand talent—adventure, the philosopher's +stone. So, listen to me; you shall be admitted to the Hotel Dieu as an +<i>élève</i>; become my assistant, and make your fortune."</p> + +<p>I stared at this sudden explosion of the doctor's rhetoric; but I should +have remembered, that he was under the double inspiration of new-born +love and reluctant rhyme.</p> + +<p>Varnhorst at length attempted to walk as far as the ramparts, and I was +enjoying the pride of being able to exhibit my patient to the garrison; +when, just as we were issuing from the long and chill corridors into the +fresh air and sunshine, I observed the commandant coming towards me with +a peculiar air of gravity, attended by several of his officers. Bowing +to Varnhorst with military etiquette, he took him aside and communicated +to him a few words, which made his pale countenance look paler still. +"My friend is brave," was the Prussian's reply, turning a glance to +where I stood. "I have seen him in the field. I am satisfied that, +wherever he is, he will do his duty."</p> + +<p>The commandant now walked up to me, and with an air of embarrassment put +a sealed letter into my hands. It was from the minister of foreign +affairs, and was marked <i>secret and immediate</i>. I opened it, and I shall +not say with what feelings I saw—an order for my attendance at the +office of the minister, signed <span class='smcap'>Robespierre</span>.</p> + +<p>If the grim majesty of death had put his signature in person to this +order, it would not have borne a more mortal aspect. It was a pang! yet +the pang did not continue long. Inevitable things are not the hardest to +be borne. At all events, there was no time for pondering on the subject. +The carriage which had brought the order and the government <i>huissier</i>, +was at the gate. Varnhorst gave me one grasp of his honest hand as I +left him; the commandant wished me "good fortune." I hurried into the +carriage, and we flew on the road to Paris.</p> + +<p>On reaching the barrier, we turned off to the quarter of the Luxembourg, +and stopped at the gate of a moderate-sized house, where my conductor +and I entered. I was shown into a small and simple room; where I found a +man advanced in years, and of a striking aspect. He said not a word; I +had no inclination to speak. The one or two hesitating syllables which I +addressed to him were answered only by a bow and a look, as if he did +not understand the language; and I awaited the approach of the terror of +France, the horror of Europe, during half an hour, which seemed to me +interminable. The door at last opened, a valet came in, and the name of +"Robespierre" thrilled through every fibre; but, instead of the frowning +giant to which my fancy had involuntarily attached the name, I saw a +slight figure, highly dressed, and even with the air of a fop on the +stage. Holding a perfumed handkerchief in one hand, which he waved +towards his face like one indulging in the fragrance, and a diamond +snuff-box in the other, he advanced with a sliding step; and after a +sallow smile to me, and a solemn bow to the old man, congratulated +himself on the "honour of the acquaintance, which he had been indebted +to his friend Elnathan for making, in my person." I was all +astonishment: I had come in expectation of receiving my death-warrant—I +had a reception like an ambassador. I now perplexed myself with the +idea, that I had been mistaken for some stranger in the foreign +diplomacy; but I was instantly set right by his pronouncing my name, and +making some allusions to "the influence of my family in the British +Parliament."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_568" id="Page_568">[Pg 568]</a></span></p> + +<p>Yet, I was still in the tiger's den, and I expected to feel the talons. +I was happily disappointed; the claw was sheathed in velvet. A slight +refection was brought in by an embroidered domestic, and it was +evidently the wish of this tremendous demagogue to appear the man of +refinement, at least in my instance.</p> + +<p>"My friend Elnathan," said he, "has informed me that you wish to return +to England?"</p> + +<p>This was pronounced in the meekest tone of interrogatory; and, with eyes +scarcely raised to either of us, he awaited my confirmation of his idea.</p> + +<p>It was given unhesitatingly; and my glance at the countenance of the old +man was answered by another, which told me that I saw the correspondent +of my friend Mordecai.</p> + +<p>"The circumstances are simply these," said the dictator in the same +delicate tone; "the government has occasion to arrange some matters of +importance with the British cabinet. The successes of the Republic have +raised jealousies, which it is for the advantage of human nature that we +should reconcile if possible. France and England are the only free +countries: their hostility can only be injurious to freedom."</p> + +<p>He paused, and his cold grey eye, after traversing the floor, was slowly +raised to me.</p> + +<p>I admitted my perfect agreement in the opinion, that "wherever national +conflict could be avoided, it was the business of all rational men to +maintain peace." I saw a grim smile pass over his sallow features, +probably at having found another dupe. Elnathan sat in profound silence, +without a muscle moved.</p> + +<p>Robespierre, rising, took from a portfolio a letter, and put it into the +Jew's hand. He now had got over that strange embarrassment with which +his habitual nervousness had marked his first address, and spoke +largely, and with a considerable expression of authority.</p> + +<p>"The English government," said he, "have expressed some unnecessary +uneasiness at the progress of opinion in Europe. The late victory, which +has decided the fate of the Austrian Netherlands, will probably increase +that uneasiness. Communications through the usual channels are slow, +imperfect, and open to espionage on all sides. I have, therefore, +applied to my friend Elnathan to point out some individual in whom he +has perfect confidence, and through whom the communication can be made. +He has named you."</p> + +<p>Elnathan, with his huge hands clasped on his breast, and his bushy brows +drawn deep over his eyes, bent forward with almost oriental affirmation.</p> + +<p>"When will you be ready to set out for Calais?"</p> + +<p>"This moment," was my willing answer.</p> + +<p>"No, we are not quite prepared." He walked for a while about the room, +pondering on the subject; then, turning to Elnathan, he directed the Jew +to get ready some papers connected with the financial dealings which his +English brethren were then beginning to carry on extensively throughout +Europe. Those were to be arranged by next day, and for those I must +wait.</p> + +<p>"You shall be under the care of Elnathan," said the master of my fate. +"He will obtain your passports from the Foreign Office, and you will +leave Paris to-morrow evening at furthest. We must avoid all suspicion, +Elnathan," said he, turning to the Jew. "Paris is a hot-bed of spies. +Apropos, where do you propose to spend the evening?"</p> + +<p>My mind glanced at Vincennes, and his eye, cold as it was, caught my +startled conception.</p> + +<p>"No, your return to-night to the fortress would only set all the tongues +of Paris in motion to-morrow. You must be seen in public to-night, at +the opera, the theatre, or where you will. You must figure as an +Englishman travelling at his pleasure and his leisure—<i>a Milor</i>."</p> + +<p>"Madame Roland gives a soiree to-night," humbly interposed the Jew.</p> + +<p>"Ha!—that is the best of all. You must go there. You will be seen by +all the world. Elnathan will introduce you to the 'philosophic lady' of +the circle." He then resumed his pacing round the room. I could observe +the vulpine expression of his visage, the twitching of his hands, the +keen sidelong look of a man living in perpetual alarm.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_569" id="Page_569">[Pg 569]</a></span></p> + +<p>We prepared to take our leave; but he now suddenly resumed the <i>petit-maître</i>, +flourished his perfumed handkerchief again, gave a passing smile at the +mirror, and offered me the honours of his snuff-box with the affectation +of the stage. But, as we reached the door of the apartment, he made a +long, single stride, which brought him up close to me. "Remember, sir," +said he, in a stern voice, wholly unlike the past—"You have it in +charge from me to inform the government of your country of the actual +feeling of France. It is true that there are madmen among +us—Brissotins, Girondists, and other enthusiasts—who talk of war. I +tell you that they <i>are</i> madmen, and that <i>I</i> will have no war.—There +may be conspirators, who think to shake the existing <i>régime</i> of the +republic, and look to war as the means of raising themselves on its +ruins.—<i>I</i> tell you, and you may tell your cabinet, that they will not +accomplish their objects here; and that, if they accomplish them, it +will be the fault and the folly alone of England. Impress those truths +on the minds of your countrymen: the Republic desires no war; her +principle is peace, her purpose is peace, her prosperity is peace. There +will be, there shall be, there <i>can</i> be, no war." He folded his arms, +and stood like a pillar till we withdrew.</p> + +<p>I happened to ascertain shortly afterwards, that on this very day +Robespierre had presided at a council which has sent off orders to +Dumourier to open the Scheldt, the notorious and direct preliminary to +war with England. Such is the sincerity of diplomacy!</p> + +<p>I remained during the rest of the day with Elnathan. His hotel was +splendid, and all that surrounded him gave the impression of great +opulence; but it was obvious that he lived like a man in a gunpowder +magazine. He had several sons and daughters, whom, in the terrors of the +time, he had contrived to send among his connexions in Germany; and he +now lived alone, his wife having been dead for some years. All his +wealth could not console him for the anxiety of his position; and +doubtless he would have perished long before, in the general massacre of +the opulent, except for the circumstance of being the chief channel of +moneyed communication between the government and Germany. In the course +of our lonely but most <i>recherché</i> dinner, he explained to me slightly +the means of my recent preservation. The police-officer had acquainted +him with my being the bearer of a letter from Mordecai. The intelligence +reached him just in time to save me, by a daring claim of my person as +an agent of the English ministry. He had then lost sight of me, and +began to think that I had perished; when the application of my friend +the doctor told him where I was to be found. The message of the head of +the Republic, requiring a confidential bearer of documents, struck him +as affording an opportunity of my liberation; and though the palpable +absurdity of my worthy friend Pantoufle prevented any communication with +<i>him</i>, no time was lost in proposing my name to authority.</p> + +<p>"And now," said my entertainer, after drinking my safe arrival in a +bumper of imperial tokay, "En avance, for Madame Roland."</p> + +<p>We drove to a splendid mansion in the Rue de la Revolution. The street +in front was crowded with equipages, and it was with some difficulty +that we could make our way through the long and stately suite of rooms. +The house had belonged to the Austrian ambassador; and on the +declaration of war it had been taken possession of by the Republic +without ceremony.</p> + +<p>I observed to Elnathan, that "to judge from the pomp of the furniture, +republicanism was not republican every where."</p> + +<p>"Nowhere but in the streets, or the prisons," was his reply in a +whisper. "Since the Austrian left it, the whole hotel has been furnished +anew at the most profuse expense, which I had the honour of supplying. +Roland is a great personage, an honest nobody, a mill-horse at the wheel +of office. He is probably drudging over his desk at this moment; but +Madame is of another mould. "La voilà!" He turned suddenly, and made a +profound bow to a very showy female, who had advanced from a group for +the purpose of receiving the Jew and the stranger. I had now, for the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_570" id="Page_570">[Pg 570]</a></span> +first time, the honour of seeing this remarkable personage. Her figure +was certainly striking, and her physiognomy conveyed a great deal of +her character for intelligence and decision. She had evidently dressed +herself on the model of the <i>classique</i>; and though not handsome enough +for a Venus, nor light enough for a nymph, she might have made a +tolerable Minerva. She had probably some thoughts of the kind; for +before we had time to make our bows, she threw herself into an attitude +of the Galerie des Antiques, and, with her eyes fixed profoundly on the +ground, awaited our incense. But when this part was played, the idol +condescended to become human, and she spoke with that torrent of +language which her clever countrywomen have at unrivaled command. She +was "delighted, charmed, enchanted, to make my acquaintance. She had +owed many marks of friendship to M. Elnathan; but this surpassed them +all—she admired the English—they were always the friends of +liberty—France was now beginning a race in the arena of freedom. The +rivalry was brilliant, the prize was inestimable." I could only bow. +Again, "she was enraptured to see an Englishman; the countryman of +Milton and Wilkes, of Charles Fox and William Tell—she had been lately +studying English history, and had wept floods of tears over the +execution of William III.—<i>Enfin</i>, she hoped that Shakspeare, 'ce beau, +ce superbe Shakspeare,' was in good health, and meant to give the world +many, many more charming tragedies."</p> + +<p>She had now discharged her first volley, and she wheeled back upon a +group of members of the Convention, grim and sullen-looking sages, with +wild hair hanging over their shoulders, and the genuine Carmagnole +physiognomy. With those men she was evidently plunged in vehement +discussion, and her whole volume of politics was flung at their heads +with as little mercy as her literary stores had been poured upon me.</p> + +<p>But the crowd pressed towards another object of curiosity, and I +followed it, under the guidance of my Asmodeus, to a music room, +splendidly fitted up, and filled with the most select orchestra of the +capital. But it was an amateur that was there to attract all eyes and +ears. "Madame de Fontenai," whispered the Jew, as he glanced towards a +woman of a remarkably expressive countenance and statue-like form, half +sitting, half reposing, on a sofa—surrounded by a group soliciting her +for a "few notes, a suspiration, a <i>soupçon</i>"—of, as Elnathan observed, +"one of the most delicious voices which had ever crossed the Pyrenees," +and the Jew had all the habitual connoisseurship of his nation. At last +the siren consented, and a harp was brought and placed before her, with +the same homage which might have attended an offering to the Queen of +Cyprus, in her own island, three thousand years ago; and rather letting +her hand drop among the strings, than striking them, and rather +breathing out her feelings, than performing any music of mortal +composition, she sang one of the fantastic, but deep, reveries of +passion of "the sweet south."</p> + + + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><span class='smcap'>Sarabanda</span>.</p> +<span class="i0">"Tus ojos y los mios<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Se miran y hablan.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pero los Corazones<br /></span> +<span class="i4">No se declaran.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Mas te prevengo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Que si tu no te explicas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yo no te entiendo.<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">""Las dudas de un amante<br/></span> +<span class="i4">"No han de saberse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Que al decirlas se sabe.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">"Que desmerecen.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">"No—en el silencio<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"No son pensamientos<br /></span> +<span class="i0">D'el mas aprecio."<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_571" id="Page_571">[Pg 571]</a></span></p> + +<p>The song closed in a burst of plaudits, as general and marked as if they +had been given to a <i>prima donna</i> in a theater, and she received them as +if she was in a theatre.</p> + +<p>"You should be presented to Madame de Fontenai," was my guide's +suggestion. "She is our reigning <i>célébrité</i> at present, as Madame +Roland is our <i>publicité</i>. You see we are nice in our distinctions.—I +shall probably to-night show you another, a very handsome creature +indeed, without half the talents of either, but with more admirers than +both; who has obtained the title of our <i>felicité</i>."</p> + +<p>"I shall be delighted to be made known to her, but give me the <i>carte du +pays</i>. Who or what is she?"</p> + +<p>"The daughter of Cabarus, the Spanish ambassador here some years ago. +She is now a widow, rich, giving the most <i>recherché</i> suppers, followed +by all the world, and, as she declares, <i>persecuted</i> by M. Tallien; who, +as perseverance is nine-tenths of success in every thing, will probably +succeed in making her Madame Tallien."</p> + +<p>I had now the honor of being presented, and was received with very +flattering attention. This I probably owed to the Jew, who seemed to +have the key to every one's smiles, as he had to most of their +escrutoires. She was certainly a person of most distinguished +appearance. Not handsome, so far as beauty depends on feature; for she +had the olive tinge of her country, Spain, and she had the <i>not</i> Spanish +"petit nez retroussé." She required distance for fascination. But her +figure was fine, and never was any costume more studied to exhibit it in +all its graces. Accustomed as I had become to foreign life, I must +acknowledge that I was a little surprised at the unhesitatingly +<i>classical</i> development of her form;—arms naked to the shoulder, or +clasped only with golden serpents; a robe <i>à la Diane</i>, and succinct as +ever huntress wore; silver sandals, a jeweled cestus, and a tunic of +white satin deeply embroidered with gold, depending simply to the knee! +But when she placed me on the sofa beside her, and entered into +conversation, every thing was forgotten but her incomparable elegance of +manner. She had singular brilliancy of eye; it almost spoke, it +perpetually flashed, and it filled up the pauses when she ceased to +speak, with a meaning absolutely mental. Her language was animated and +intelligent; sometimes in a tone of gentle and touching confidence, +which made the hearer almost think that he was looking at her soul +through her vivid countenance. Before a few minutes had elapsed, I could +fully comprehend her title to the renown of the most captivating +conversationist of Paris.</p> + +<p>As I at length relinquished this enviable and envied position, to give +way to the crowd who brought their tribute to the <i>fateuil</i>, or rather +the shrine, of this dazzling woman—"You have still," said my companion, +"to see another of our sovereigns; for, as we have a triumvirate in the +Tuileries, the world of taste is ruled by three rivals; and they are +curiously characteristic of the classes from which they have sprung. The +lady of the mansion, you must have perceived to be republican in every +sense of the word—clever undoubtedly, but as undoubtedly bourgeoise; +intelligent in no slight degree, but too much in earnest for elegance; +perpetually taking the lead on those desperate subjects, in which women +can only be, and ought to be, smatterers; and all this to the infinite +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_572" id="Page_572">[Pg 572]</a></span> +amusement of her hearers, and the unbounded terror of her meek and very +helpless husband."</p> + +<p>I remarked, "that she had, at least, the important merit of giving very +splendid entertainments."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and of also possessing as honest a heart as she possesses a rash +brain. She is kind, generous, and even rational, where she has not a +revolution to make or to ruin. But, suffer her to touch on politics, and +you might as well bring a lunatic into the full moon."</p> + +<p>"But that singular being, to whom we have just been listening, and whose +song I shall hear to-night in my dreams—can she be a politician, a +republican? I have never seen a countenance more likely to be +contemptuous of the <i>canaille</i>!"</p> + +<p>"You are perfectly in the right. She has a sphere of her own, which has +no more to do with our world than if she lived in the evening-star. She +exists simply to enjoy homage, and to reward it, as you have seen, by a +song or a smile; yet she has been on the verge of the scaffold. Some of +our most powerful political characters are contending for her influence, +her fortune, or her hand; and whether the contest will end in raising M. +Tallien to the head of the Republic, or extinguishing him within the +week, is a question which chance alone can decide.—She may yet be a +queen."</p> + +<p>"She seems fitter to be a Circe, or a Calypso. Or if a queen, she would +be a Cleopatra."</p> + +<p>"No," said Elnathan, with the only laugh which I had seen on his solemn +visage during the night. "She has known too much of courts to endure +royalty. She reigns as the widow of M. de Fontenai. If Tallien falls, +she will have the power of choosing from all his successors. When old +age comes at last, and conquests are hopeless, she will turn <i>devote</i>, +fly to her native Spain, abjure the face of man, spend her money on +wax-dolls and cockle-shells; and after being worshipped by the multitude +as a saint, and panegyrized by the monks as a miracle, will die with her +face turned to Paris after all, as good Mussulmen send their last breath +in the direction of Mecca."</p> + +<p>We now plunged into the centre of a circle of men in military costume, +full of the war, and criticising Dumourier's campaign with the utmost +severity. As I listened; with some surprise at the multiplicity of +errors which the most successful general of France had contrived to +squeeze into a single month of operations, I observed a man, of a pale +thin visage, like one suffering from ill health or excessive mental +toil, but of a singularly intellectual expression; standing at a slight +distance from the group of tacticians with a quiet smile.</p> + +<p>"Let me have the honour of presenting M. Marston to the minister at +war," was my introduction to the celebrated Carnot; with whom Elnathan +seemed to be on peculiar terms of intimacy. The minister entered at +once, and good-humouredly, into conversation.</p> + +<p>"You must not think our favourite general," said he, "altogether the +military novice which those gentlemen of the National Guard have decided +him to be. I feel an additional interest in the question, because I had +a little official battle to fight to place him at the head of the army +of Flanders. But I saw that he had military talent, and that, with a +republic, cancels all sins."</p> + +<p>I made some passing remark on the idleness of disputing the ability of +an officer who answered cavils by conquest, observing, that the only +rational altar raised by the Romans, a people of warriors, was to "Good +Fortune."</p> + +<p>"Ah yes, you think, in the Choiseul style, that the first question to be +asked in choosing a general was, 'is he lucky?' I must own, +notwithstanding, that our city warriors have been of the opinion"—and a +slight movement curled his lip—"that General Dumourier has fought his +battle against principle. But they do not perceive, that <i>there</i> lies +the very merit for which the Republic must uphold him. His troops were +in an exhausted country; they had but provisions for two days. He must +fight at once or retreat. Another general might have retreated; and made +his apology by the state of his haversacks. Dumourier took the other +alternative: he fought; and the general who fights is the only general +who gains victories."</p> + +<p>One of the tacticians at whom he had indulged in a sneer, Santerre, the +commandant of the city horse, a huge and heavy hero with enormous +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_573" id="Page_573">[Pg 573]</a></span> +jackboots and a clattering sabre, now strode up to us, and pronounced +that the campaign had been hitherto "against all rule."</p> + +<p>"You mistake, my good friend," said the now half-angry minister—"you +mistake acting above rule for acting against rule. Our war is new, our +force is new, our position is new; and we must meet the struggle by new +means every where. Follow the routine, and all is lost. Invent, act, +hazard, strike, and we shall triumph as Dumourier has done—France is +surrounded with enemies. To conquer, we must astonish. If we wait to be +attacked, we must feel the weakness of defence—the spirit of the French +soldier is attack. Within the frontier he is a bird in a cage; beyond it +he is a bird in the air. Why has France always triumphed in the +beginning of a war? because she has always invaded. The French soldier +must march, he must fight, he must feel that he hazards every thing, +before he rises to that pitch of daring, that ardour, that <i>elan</i>, by +which he gains every thing. Let him, like the Greek, burn his ships +behind him, and from that moment he is invincible."</p> + +<p>I listened with speechless interest to this development of the +principles on which the great war of Europe was to be sustained. The +speaker uttered his oracular sentences with a glow, which left his +hearers almost as breathless as himself. I could imagine that I saw +before me the living genius of French victory.</p> + +<p>While we were standing, silenced by this burst; an incident occurred, as +if to give demonstration to his theory; an aide-de-camp entered the +room, bringing despatches from the army of Flanders. He had but just +arrived in Paris, and not finding the war-minister at his bureau, had +followed him here. Of course, the strongest conceivable curiosity +existed; but not a syllable was to be learned from the official mystery +of the aide-de-camp. He made his advance to the minister, deposited the +despatch in his hands, and then drew up his stately figure, impervious +to all questioning. Carnot retired to an alcove to read the missive, and +in the mean time the general anxiety was an absolute fever. The dance +ceased, the tables of loto and faro were deserted, the whole business of +life was broken up, and five hundred of the handsomest, the most +brilliant, and the best dressed of the earth, were standing on tiptoe in +an agony of suspense. It would have justified a counter-revolution.</p> + +<p>At length Carnot, probably wholly forgetting the scene of suffering +which he had left behind, came forward with the important despatch open +in his hand. When he read the date, and pronounced the words +"Headquarters, Brussels," all was known, and all was rapture. The French +deserve good news beyond all other people of the globe, for none ever +enjoy it so much. I thought that they would have embraced the little +minister to death; no living man certainly was ever nearer being pressed +into Elysium. Absolute shouts of <i>Vive la Republique</i>! and plaudits from +innumerable pairs of the most delicate hands, echoed through the whole +suite of <i>salons</i>. Madame, the lady of the mansion, made a set speech to +him, at the conclusion of which she rushed on him with open arms, and +kissed him on both cheeks, "<i>Au nom de la Republique</i>." Even the +ethereal Madame de Fontenai condescended so far to stoop to human +feelings, as to move from her couch, advance, drooping her fine eyes, +and, with her hand on her bosom, like a sultana bend her magnificent +head in silent homage before him. I watched the pantomime of this +matchless creature, with a full acknowledgment of its beauty. A single +word would have impaired it; but she did not utter a syllable. On +retiring, she slowly raised her expressive countenance, fixing her eyes +above, as if she thanked some visionary protector of France for this +crowning triumph; and then, with hands clasped, and step by step, sank +back into the crowd.</p> + +<p>Supper was announced, and we were led into a new suite of rooms, filled +with all the luxuries and hospitalities of a most sumptuous +entertainment. Carnot, now doubly popular, was surrounded by the <i>élite</i> +of name and beauty. But, whether from the politeness with which even the +Republicans of former rank were desirous of distinguishing themselves +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_574" id="Page_574">[Pg 574]</a></span> +from the <i>roturier</i>, or for the purpose of making his opinions known in +that country which had been always the great tribunal of European +opinion, and always will be; he made <i>me</i> sit down at his side.</p> + +<p>He now talked largely of continental interest, and continually reverted +to the advantages of a closer alliance of England with France. "The two +countries," said he, "are made for combination; combined, they could +conquer the globe; France for the empire of the land, England for the +empire of the sea. Nature has divided between them the sceptre of the +world."</p> + +<p>I observed that, when the conquest was achieved, the victors, like +Augustus and Antony, might quarrel at last.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, even if they did, the combat would finish in a day what it +would have taken centuries of the tardy wars of old times to decide. Six +hours at Pharsalia settled the civil wars of Rome, and pacified the +world for five hundred years."</p> + +<p>"But which side would be content to be the beaten one?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Neither," replied a restless, but remarkably broad-foreheaded and +deep-browed personage at the opposite side of the table. "The combat +would be eternal, or must end in mutual ruin. An universal empire would +be beyond the government of man by law, or his control by the sword. I +prefer enlightening the people until they shall want no control."</p> + +<p>"But will they buy your lamp?" said Carnot, with a smile.</p> + +<p>"At least they have done so pretty extensively, if I am to believe the +public. It was but this day, that I received a notice that there had +been sent forth the hundred thousandth copy of my 'Qu'est ce que le +Tiers Etat.'"</p> + +<p>"That was not a lamp, but a firebrand," said a hollow voice at a +distance down the table; which reminded me of the extraordinary orator +whom I had heard in the Jacobin Club. Carnot looked round to discover +this strange accuser, and added, in a loud and stern tone—</p> + +<p>"Whether lamp or firebrand, I pronounce to all good Frenchmen that it +was a great gift to France. It was the grammar of a new language, the +language of liberty! It was the sound of a trumpet, the trumpet of +revolution! Still M. de Siêyes," said he, turning to the author of this +celebrated performance, "all things have their time, and yours is not +yet come. I cannot give up the soldier. I am for no tardy movement, when +the country is in peril; the field must be cleared before it can be +cultivated. You must sweep war from your gates, and faction from your +streets, before you can sit down to teach a people. Even then the task +is not easy. To know nothing, or to know something badly, are two kinds +of ignorance which will always tempt the majority of mankind."</p> + +<p>"Is there not a third kind of ignorance more dangerous still—that of +knowing more than one <i>ought</i> to know?" interposed another speaker, +whose countenance had already struck me as one of the most problematical +that I had ever seen. His composed yet keen physiognomy, strongly +reminded me of the portraits of the Italian Conclave—some of the +cardinals of Giorgione and Titian; at once subtle and dignified.</p> + +<p>Carnot smiled, and said to me in a low tone, "That is a touch at Siêyes. +Those two men never meet without a fencing-match. One of them has been a +bishop, and cannot forgive the loss of his mitre. Siêyes has been +nothing, but intends to be more than a bishop yet—if he can. Talleyrand +and he hate each other with the hatred of rival beauties."</p> + +<p>It was evident that Siêyes was stung, though I could not tell how. I saw +his powerful countenance flush to the forehead. But he merely +said—"Pray, Monsieur, what is a vizard?"</p> + +<p>All eyes were now directed to the combatants, and a faint laugh ran +round the table. But there was not the slightest appearance of +perturbation in the manner or look of his antagonist, as he answered—</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, I shall have the honour to inform you. A vizard is a +contrivance for concealment, whether in silk and pasteboard or in an +inflexible visage—whether in a woman who wants to disguise her +features, or in a man who wants to hide his heart—whether in a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_575" id="Page_575">[Pg 575]</a></span> +masquerader or an assassin. For example, when I hear a hypocrite talk of +his honesty, an intriguer of his conscience, a renegade of his candour, +and a pensioner of his patriotism, I do not require to look at him—I +say at once, that man wears a vizard." He paused a moment. "This," said +he, "is the vizard in public life. In private, it is the impartiality of +authors to their own performances, the justice of partizans, the +originality of plagiaries, and the principle of <i>pamphleteers</i>."</p> + +<p>This daring delivery of sentiment hit so many, that it could be resented +by none; for no one could have assailed it without making himself +responsible to the charge. Silence fell upon the table. However, lapses +of this order are not fatal in France, and the topic of the war was too +recent not to press still. Various anecdotes of the gallantry of the +troops were detailed, and the conversation was once more led by the +minister. "These instances of heroism," said he, "show us the spirit +which war, and war alone, can kindle in a people. In peace, the lower +qualities take the lead; in war, the higher—intrepidity, perseverance, +talent, and contempt of difficulties. The man must then be +shown—deception can have no place there. All the stronger qualities of +our nature are called into exercise; the mind grows muscular like the +frame; the spirit glows with the blood; a nobler career of eminence +spreads before the nation, cheered by rewards, at once of a more +splendid rank, and distributed on a loftier principle. We shall no more +have a Pompadour, or a Du Barry, giving governments and marshals' +batons. The character of the nation will become, like its swords, at +once bright, sharp, and solid; the reign of corruption is gone already, +the reign of dupery cannot long survive. France will set an example +which the world will be proud to imitate, or must be forced to follow."</p> + +<p>"You remind me, Monsieur le Ministre, of the Spartans, who, when they +returned from beating the enemy, found their slaves in possession of +their households. You conquer Prussians and Austrians on the frontier, +and leave monks at home. But, as long as you spare the spiders, you must +not complain of cobwebs. Crush intriguers, an you will put an end to +intrigue," said the bold ex-bishop.</p> + +<p>"The man insults the Republic who charges her citizens with intrigue," +was the whispered, and very formidable, menace of Siêyes. "Monsieur, you +have yet to learn what <i>is</i> a constitution."</p> + +<p>The Abbé had incurred some ridicule by his readiness in proposing +constitutions. His antagonist, like a hornet, instantly fixed his sting +upon the naked spot.</p> + +<p>"No, Monsieur, I perfectly know what is a modern constitution—it is the +credit of a charlatan—it is the stock of a political pedlar, made only +for sale to simpletons—it is an umbrella, to be taken down when it +rains—it is a surtout in summer, and nakedness in winter. It is, in +short, a contrivance, to make a reputation for a sciolist, and to govern +mankind on the principles of a reverie."</p> + +<p>"This is the language of faction," exclaimed Siêyes, indignantly rising.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me," said his imperturbable antagonist; "the language of faction +is the language of quacks to dupes; it is the language learned in the +clubs and taught in the streets—the language which takes it for +granted, that the hearer is as destitute of brains, as the speaker is of +principle." All eyes were turned on the parties.</p> + +<p>But his hearer simply said, yet with a glance of fire—</p> + +<p>"Monseigneur, you should remember, that you are not in our diocese, +haranguing your chaplains. You forget also, that in France the age of +quackery is over. There are no more dupes—have <i>you</i> your passports +ready?"</p> + +<p>This produced not even a sneer on the marble countenance of the +adversary.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Siêyes," was the ready reply, "let me not hear <i>you</i> talk +of despair. Quackery will never be at an end in France. The true quack +is a polypus; cut him into a thousand pieces, he only grows the +faster;—he is a fungus, give him only a stone to cling to, and he +covers it;—he is the viper, even while he hides in his hole, he is only +preparing to bite in the sunshine; and when all the world think him +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_576" id="Page_576">[Pg 576]</a></span> +frozen for life, he is only concocting venom for his summer exploits. +Quacks will live, as long as there are dupes—as leeches will live, as +long as there are asses' heels to hang on." He then rose, making a +profound bow, with "Bon soir, Monsieur l'Abbé—never fear—dupes will be +eternal."</p> + +<p>This produced some confusion and consternation among the friends of +Siêyes. But a new scene of the night was announced, and all flowed +towards the private theatre.</p> + +<p>I was yet to see more of this daring talker; but I was not surprised to +hear next day, that he had left Paris at midnight, and was gone, no one +knew whither. The capital might have been hazardous for him. Siêyes was +probably above revenge; but there were those who would have readily +taken the part upon themselves, and a <i>cidevant</i> bishop would have made +a showy victim. How he escaped even so far, is among the wonders of a +life of wonder. I afterwards saw the fugitive, at the head of European +councils, a prince and a prime minister; the restorer of the dynasty +under which he fell, the overthrower of the dynasty under which he rose; +bearing a charmed life, and passing among the havoc of factions, and +even escaping from the wrecks of empire, more like an impalpable spirit +than a man.</p> + +<p>But the change of his style was scarcely less remarkable than the change +of his fortunes. He was then no longer the hot and heady satirist; he +had become the sly and subtle scorner. No man said so many cutting +things, yet so few of which any one could take advantage: he anatomized +human character without the appearance of inflicting a wound; he had all +the pungency of wit without its peril, and reigned supreme by a terror +which every one pretended <i>not</i> to feel. The change, after all, was only +one of weapons; in the first period it was the knife, in the second the +razor—and perhaps the latter was the more deadly of the two.</p> + +<p>The theatre was fitted up with the taste of a people more essentially +theatrical than any other in the world. For not merely the eye, but the +tongue, is theatrical; and not merely the stage, but every portion of +private life. Every sentiment, every sound, is theatrical; and the stage +itself is the only natural thing in the country, from Calais to Bayonne.</p> + +<p>As we took our seats in the little gilded box, which was made only for +two; though probably for <i>tête-à-têtes</i> of a more romantic order than +ours, Elnathan observed to me, "You will now see two of the most +remarkable <i>artistes</i> in France—Talma, beyond all comparison our first +actor; and another, an amateur, whom I think altogether one of the +finest women in existence. You may pronounce, that she ought to be +younger for perfection; but there is beauty in the fruit as well as in +the flower, and not the less beautiful though it is of a different kind. +But you shall see."</p> + +<p>The curtain now drew up, and we saw the commencement of the little +<i>drame</i> of <i>Paul et Virginie</i>. St Pierre's charming story has since been +worn out on all the boards of Europe; but it was then new to the stage, +and the audience gazed and listened, smiled and wept, with all the +freshness of delicious novelty. All the earlier portions of the +performance were what we have since so repeatedly seen them; we had the +scenery of the Mauritius, painted with habitual French skill, the +luxuriant vegetation, the rosy sky, and the deep purple of the ocean. +The negro-dances were exhibited, by <i>ballerine</i> from the opera; and all +was in suspense for the appearance of the two stars of the night. Paul's +<i>entré</i> was received with unbounded plaudits; he was so simply dressed, +and looked so completely the young wanderer of the groves, that I could +not conceive him to be the grand pillar of tragedy in France. He was +incomparably the handsome peasant of the tropics; yet, as his part +advanced, I could discover in his deep eye and powerful tone, the actor +capable of reaching the heights of dramatic passion. He was scarcely +above the middle size, with features whose magic consisted in neither +their strength nor beauty, but in their flexibility. I had never seen a +countenance so capable of change, and in which the change was so +instantaneous and so total. From the most sportive openness, a word +threw it into the most indignant storm, or the most incurable despair. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_577" id="Page_577">[Pg 577]</a></span> +From wild joy, it was suddenly clouded with a weight of sorrow that +"refused to be comforted." His accents were singularly sweet, yet clear; +and, like his change of countenance, capable of the most rapid change +from cheerfulness to the agonies of a breaking heart. His charm was +reality; the power to carry away the audience with him into the scene of +the moment. I had not been five minutes looking at him, when I was as +completely in the Mauritius, as if I had been basking in its golden +sunshine, and imbibing the breeze from fair palms.</p> + +<p>But his fascination and ours was complete when Virginie appeared. +Nothing could be less artificial than her costume; the simple dress of +Bengalese blue cloth, a few cowrie shells round her neck, and a shell +comb fastening up the braids of profusion of raven hair. She came +floating rather than walking down the mountain path; and her first few +words, when Paul rushed forward and knelt to kiss her feet, and the half +playful, half fond air with which she repelled him, seemed to me the +most exquisite of all performances. I observed, too, that her style had +more nature in it than that of Talma. I had till then forgotten that he +was an actor; but, placed beside her, I could have almost instinctively +pronounced that Paul was a Frenchman and Virginie a Creole. I whispered +the remark to Elnathan, who answered, "that I was right in point of +fact; for the representative of Virginie, though not a native of the +Mauritius, was of tropical birth, the widow of a French noble, who had +married her in the colonies and who had been one of the victims of the +Revolution."</p> + +<p>"And yet an amateur actress?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but we never ask such questions in France. Every body does the +same. You should see one of our 'bals à la victime,' in which the +express qualification for a ticket is having lost a relative by the +guillotine."</p> + +<p>"But who is this charming woman?"</p> + +<p>"A woman of birth and fortune, of charming talents, and supposed at this +moment to exercise the highest influence with the most influential +personage of the government;—even the bewitching Madame de Fontenai has +given way to her supremacy."</p> + +<p>I observed, "That though neither could compete with English beauty in +point of features, there was a singular fascination in both—their +countenances seemed remarkably connected with the play of their minds.</p> + +<p>"There is still a distinction," said Elnathan, after a long and calm +look through his <i>lorgnette</i>—in the style of that inspection which an +artist might give to a picture of acknowledged renown; or perhaps which +a Mahometan dealer might fix on an importation from Circassia; "but one +which," said he, dropping his glass, "I find it difficult to define."</p> + +<p>"You have already," said I, "given Madame Roland her place at the head +of Republicans, let us suppose Madame de Fontenai the fine and +fastidious aristocrat. While this lovely being's elegance of manner, and +mixture of grace and dignity, would make an admirable figure at the head +of a French court, if such a thing were not now beyond all possibility."</p> + +<p>"Are you aware," said the Jew, with sudden seriousness, "that a +prediction, or at least some extraordinary conjecture on the subject, +has gone the round of the circles. The tale is, that while she was still +a girl in the West Indies, one of the negro dispensers of fortune, an +Obi woman, pronounced that she should ascend a throne. I must, however, +add the <i>finale</i> to qualify it—that she should die in an hospital."</p> + +<p>"The scale," said I, "goes down too suddenly in that case: she had +better remain the beautiful and happy creature that she is. Yet a being +formed in this expressive mould was not meant either to live or die like +the rest of the world."</p> + +<p>"True, in other countries," said Elnathan, with a glance round, as if a +<i>huissier</i> was at his elbow; "but here the affair is different—or +rather, the course of nature is the scaffold. That beautiful woman has +lately had the narrowest escape from the Revolutionary committee; and I +can tell you that it is utterly impossible to know what to-morrow may +bring even to her. She is too lovely not to be an object of rivalry; and +a word may be death."</p> + +<p>Such was my first sight of Josephine de Beauharnais.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_578" id="Page_578">[Pg 578]</a></span></p> + +<p>This charming performance proceeded with infinite interest. But it +differed from the course which I have since seen it take. The scene next +showed Virginie in France. She was in the midst of all the animation of +Parisian life—no longer the simple and exquisite child of nature, but +the conscious beauty; still in all the bloom of girlhood, but exhibiting +the graces of the woman of fashion. Surrounded by the admiration and +adulation of the glittering world, she had given herself up to its +influence, until her early feelings were beginning to fade away. The +scene opened with a ball. Virginie, dressed in the perfection of +Parisian taste, was floating down the dance, radiant with jewels and +joy, the very image of delight, when her eye dropped upon the figure of +a stranger, standing in a recess of the superb apartment, with arms +folded, a moody brow, and a burning gaze fixed upon her. A pang shot +through her heart. In her exquisite acting, a single gesture, a single +glance, showed that all the recollections of her native isle had +returned. She was the child of nature and of sensibility once more. She +tottered from the dance, tremblingly approached the stranger, and fell +at his feet. That stranger was Paul; and Talma, in his finest tragedy, +never displayed more profound emotion, nor produced more enthusiastic +applause, than when he raised her up, and with one look, and one word, +"Virginie,"—forgot all and forgave all.</p> + +<p>But we were spared the catastrophe, which would certainly have been an +ill return for the profusion of sighs and tears which the fair +spectators gave to the performance. The ruling genius of the night, the +minister's wife, officially inspired to do honour to the triumphs of the +State, had employed the talents of her <i>decorateurs</i> actively during our +stay at the supper-table; and when the curtain rose for the third act, +instead of "a stormy sea and the horrors of shipwreck," according to the +stage directions, we saw a stage Olympus, in which the whole <i>élite</i> of +the Celestials escorted a formidable Bellona-like figure, the cuirassed +and helmed Republic, in triumphal procession, to an altar covered with +laurels and flaming with incense, inscribed "<i>à la Liberté</i>." Some +stanzas, more remarkable for their patriotism than their poetry, were +chanted by Minerva, Juno, and the rest of the Olympians, <span class='smcap'>in honour</span> of +the "jour magnifique de victoire, Jemappes." A train of <i>figurantes</i>, +the monarchies of Europe, came forward, dancing and depositing their +crowns and sceptres at the foot of the altar, (a sign, at least, +tolerably significant;) the whole concluding with an exhibition of the +bust of Dumourier, on which Madame laid a chaplet of laurel, accompanied +with a speech in the highest republican style—bust, speech, and Madame, +being all alike received with true Gallic rapture.</p> + +<p>On that night, to have doubted the "irresistible, universal, and +perpetual" triumph of the Republic, would have been high-treason to +taste, to hospitality, and the ladies; and for that night our belief was +unbounded. All had made up their minds that a new era of human felicity +had arrived; that "all the world was a stage," in the most dancing and +delightful sense of the words; and that feasting and fêtes were to form +the staple of life for every future age. We were to live in a rosebud +world. I heard around me in a thousand whispers, from some of the +softest politicians that ever wore a smile, the assurance, that France +was to become a political Arcadia, or rather an original paradise, in +which toil and sorrow had no permission to be seen. In short, the world, +from that time forth, was to be changed; despotism was extinguished; man +was regenerated; balls and suppers were to be the only rivalry of +nations; Paris was, of course, to lead France; France, of course, to +lead the globe;—all was to be beauty, <i>bonhommie</i>, and <i>bonbons</i>! And, +under the shade of the triumphant tricolor, all nations were to waltz, +make epigrams, and embrace for ever!</p> + + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a></div> + +<div class="poem"><p><span class='smcap'>Madrigal</span>.</p><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Silence is the true love-token;</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Passion only speaks in sighs;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Would you keep its charm unbroken,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Trust the eloquence of eyes.</span><br /> +<span class="i4">Ah no!</span><br /> +<span class="i4">Not so.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From my soul all doubts remove;</span><br /> +<span class="i0"><i>Tell</i> me, <i>tell</i> me—that you love.</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Looks the heart alone discover,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">If the tongue its thoughts can tell,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">'Tis in vain you play the lover,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">You have never <i>felt</i> the spell.</span><br /> +<span class="i4">Ah no!</span><br /> +<span class="i4">Not so.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Speak the word, all words above;</span><br /> +<span class="i0"><i>Tell</i> me, <i>tell</i> me—that you love."</span><br /> +</div></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="INDIAN_AFFAIRS_GWALIOR" id="INDIAN_AFFAIRS_GWALIOR"></a>INDIAN AFFAIRS—GWALIOR.</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_579" id="Page_579">[Pg 579]</a></span></p> + + +<p>The painful interest with which the arrival of every Indian mail was +looked for in England during the continuance of the Affghan war with its +alternations of delusive triumphs and bloody reverses, has now almost +wholly died away: the public mind, long accustomed to sup full of the +horrors of the Khoord-Cabul pass, and the atrocities of the "arch-fiend" +Akhbar Khan, has subsided into apathy, and hears with indifference of +the occasional defeat and dethronement of rajahs and nawabs with +unpronounceable names—an employment which seem to be popularly +considered in this country the ordinary duty of the servants of the +Company. Yet the intelligence received during the last year from our +eastern empire, whether viewed in connexion with past events, or with +reference to those which are now "casting their shadows before," might +furnish abundant matter for speculation, both from the "moving incidents +by field" which have marked its course, and the portents which have +appeared in the political horizon. In Affghanistan all things seem +gradually returning to the same state in which the British invasion +found them. The sons of Shah Shoojah have proved unable to retain the +royal authority, which they attempted to grasp on the retirement of the +invaders; and Dost Mahommed, released from captivity, (as we expressed +in Feb. 1843 the hope that he would be,) once more rules in Cabul—there +destined, we trust, to end his days in honour after his unmerited +misfortunes—and has shown every disposition to cultivate a good +understanding with the government in India. Akhbar Khan is again +established in his former government of Jellalabad; and it is said that +he meditates availing himself of the present distracted state of the +Sikh kingdom, to make an attempt for the recovery of the Peshawar—the +refusal of his father to confirm which, by a formal cession to Runjeet +Singh, was one of the causes, it will be remembered, of the Affghan war. +There are rumours of wars, moreover, in Transoxiana, where the King of +Bokhara has subdued the Uzbek kingdom of Kokan or Ferghana, (once the +patrimony of the famous Baber,) and is said to meditate extending his +conquests across the Hindoo-Koosh into Northern Affghanistan—a measure +which might possibly bring him within reason of British vengeance for +the wrongs of the two ill-fated envoys, Stoddart and Conolly, who, even +if the rumours of their murder should prove unfounded, have been +detained for years, in violation of the rights of nations, in hopeless +and lingering bondage.<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> The Barukzye sirdars have repossessed +themselves of Candahar, whence they are believed to be plotting with the +dispossessed Ameer of Meerpoor in Scinde against the British; while at +Herat, the very <i>fons et origo mali</i>, the sons of Shah Kamran have been +expelled after their father's death, by the wily vizier Yar Mohammed, +who has strengthened himself in his usurpation by becoming a voluntary +vassal of Persia! Thus has the Shah acquired, without a blow, the city +which became famous throughout the world by its resistance to his arms; +and the preservation of which, as a bulwark against the designs of +Russia, was the primary object which led the British standards, in an +evil hour, across the Indus. Such has been the result of all the +deep-laid schemes of Lord Auckland's policy, and the equivalent obtained +for the thousands of lives, and millions of treasure, lavished in +support of them;—failure so complete, that but for the ruins of +desolated cities, and the deep furrows of slaughter and devastation, +left visible through the length and breadth of the land, the whole might +be regarded as a dream, from which the country had awakened, after the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_580" id="Page_580">[Pg 580]</a></span> +lapse of five years, to take up the thread of events as they were left +at the end of 1838. But the connexion of our eastern empire with +trans-Indian politics has also fortunately subsided once more to its +former level; and, satisfied with this brief summary, we shall turn to +the consideration of those points in which our own interests are more +nearly implicated.</p> + +<p>Our anticipations last year, as to the ultimate fate of Scinde and its +rulers, have been verified almost to the letter. The Ameers (to borrow a +phrase of Napoleon's germane to the matter) "have ceased to reign," and +their territory has formally, as it already was virtually, incorporated +with the Anglo-Indian empire. In our Number for February 1843, we gave +some account of the curious process of political alchemy by which a +dormant claim for tribute, on the part of Shah Shoojah, had been +transmuted into an active assertion of British supremacy over the Indus +and its navigation, and the appropriation of the port of Kurrachee at +the mouth, and the fortified post of Sukkur on the higher part of the +stream, of the river. To this arrangement the Ameers, from the first, +submitted with a bad grace, which it was easy to foresee would lead, +according to established rule in such cases in India, to the forfeiture +of their dominions. And such has been the case; but the transfer has not +been effected without an unexpected degree of resistance, in which the +heroism of Sir Charles Napier, and the handful of troops under his +command, against fearful numerical odds, alone prevented the repetition, +on a smaller scale, of the Affghan tragedy. The proximate cause of the +rupture was the refusal of the Ameers to permit the clearing away of +their <i>shikargahs</i>, or hunting-grounds, which were guarded with a rigid +jealousy, paralleled only by the forest laws of William the Conqueror, +and extended for many miles along the banks of the Indus, in a broad +belt of impenetrable jungle, at once impeding the navigation by +preventing the tracking of boats, and presenting dangerous facilities +for ambush. To these cherished game-preserves the Ameers clung with a +desperate pertinacity, which might have moved the sympathy of an English +sportsman—"admitting" (says the <i>Bombay Times</i>) "that we might strip +them of their territory, occupy Hydrabad, or seize their persons without +difficulty; but maintaining that they will never consent to become +parties to the act of degradation we insist upon, or give their enemies +the pretext for charging them with having made over to us by treaty, on +any consideration whatever, the most valued portion of their territory." +A force under Sir Charles Napier was at length moved from Sukkur towards +Hydrabad, with a view of intimidating them into submission; and on +February 14, 1843, they affixed their seals to the draught of an +agreement for giving up the <i>shikargahs</i>. But this apparent concession +was only a veil for premeditated treachery. On the 15th, the Residency +at Hydrabad was attacked by 8000 men with six guns, headed by one of the +Ameers; and the resident, Major Outram, after defending himself with +only 100 men for four hours, forced his way through the host of his +assailants, and reached Sir Charles Napier's camp. The Ameers now took +the field with a force estimated at 22,000 men; but were attacked on the +17th at Meeanee, a town near the Indus above Hydrabad, by 2800 British +and Sepoys, and completely routed after a desperate conflict, in which +the personal prowess of the British general, and his officers, was +called into display in a manner for which few opportunities occur in +modern warfare. The effect of the victory was decisive: the Ameers +surrendered themselves prisoners of war, and were shortly afterwards +sent to Bombay; the British flag was hoisted at Hydrabad; and a +proclamation of the Governor-general was published at Agra, March 5, +declaring the annexation to our empire of "the country on both sides of +the Indus from Sukkur to the sea."</p> + +<p>The subjugation of the new province was not yet, however, complete, as +another Talpoor chief, Ameer Shere Mohammed of Meerpoor, still remained +in arms; and a second sanguinary engagement was fought, March 24, in the +neighbourhood of Hydrabad, in which 20,000 Beloochees were again +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_581" id="Page_581">[Pg 581]</a></span> +overthrown, with great slaughter, by 6000 Sepoy and English troops. The +town of Meerpoor and the important fortress of Oomerkote, on the +borders of the Desert, were shortly after taken; and Shere Mohammed, +defeated in several partial encounters, and finding it impossible to +keep the field in Scinde after the loss of his strongholds, retired with +the remainder of his followers up the Bolan Pass towards Candahar; and +is believed, as mentioned above, to be soliciting the aid of the +Barukzye chiefs of that city. It is not impossible that he may erelong +give us more trouble, as he will be assured of support from all the +Affghan and Belooch tribes in his rear, who would gladly embrace the +opportunity of striking a covert blow against the Feringhis; while the +fidelity of the only Belooch chief who still retains his possessions in +Scinde, Ali Moorad of Khyrpoor, is said to be at least doubtful. For the +present, however, the British may be considered to be in undisturbed +military possession of Scinde; and commerce is beginning to revive on +the Indus, under the protection of the armed steamers which navigate it. +But the great drawback to the value of this new acquisition is the +extreme unhealthiness of the climate from the great heat, combined with +the malaria generated by the vast alluvial deposits of the river; the +effects of which have been so deleterious, that of 9870 men, the total +force of the Bombay troops under Sir Charles Napier's command, not fewer +than 2890, at the date of the January letters, were unfit for duty from +sickness; and apprehensions were even entertained of a design on the +part of the sirdars of Candahar, in conjunction with Shere Mohammed, to +take advantage of the weakness of the garrison of Shikarpoor from +disease, to plunder the town by a sudden foray. There is, indeed, a +Hindostani proverb on this point, expressed in tolerably forcible +language—"If Scinde had previously existed, why should Allah have +created hell?" and so strong is this feeling among the sepoys, that of +the Bengal and Madras regiments lately ordered to relieve those +returning from Scinde, one (the Bengal 64th) absolutely refused to +march, and has been sent down to Benares to await an investigation; and +formidable symptoms of mutiny have appeared in several others. The +Bombay troops, however, who are proud of the conquest effected by their +own arms, are so far from sharing in this reluctance, that one regiment +has even volunteered for the service; and a report is prevalent, that it +is in contemplation to increase the strength of the Bombay army by +raising twelve or fourteen new regiments—so as to enable them to hold +Scinde without too much weakening the home establishment, or drawing +troops from the other presidencies.</p> + +<p>The court of Lahore has lately been the scene of a tragedy, or rather +succession of tragedies, in which "kings, queens, and knaves," were +disposed of in a style less resembling any thing recorded in +matter-of-fact history than the last scene in the immortal drama of Tom +Thumb—a resemblance increased by the revival, in several instances, of +personages whose deaths had been reported in the last batch of murders. +It appears that the Maharajah, Shere Singh, had at length become jealous +of the unbounded influence exercised by his all-powerful minister, Rajah +Dhian Singh, who had not only assumed the control of the revenue, but +had more than once reproached the sovereign, when all the chiefs were +present in full <i>durbar</i>, with his habitual drunkenness and debauchery. +A quarrel ensued, and Dhian Singh retired from court to the hereditary +possessions of his family among the mountains, where he could set Shere +Singh at defiance; but an apparent reconciliation was effected, and in +July he returned to Lahore, and made his submission. His efforts were, +however, now secretly bent to the organization of a conspiracy against +the life of the Maharajah, in which the Fakir Azeer-ed-deen, a personage +who had enjoyed great influence under Runjeet, and many of the principal +sirdars, were implicated; and on Sept. 15th Shere Singh was shot dead on +the parade-ground by Ajeet Singh, a young military chief who had been +fixed upon for the assassin. The murder of the king was followed by that +of the Koonwur, or heir-apparent, Pertab Singh, with all the women and +children in their zenanas, even to an infant born the night before; +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_582" id="Page_582">[Pg 582]</a></span> +while Dhuleep Singh, a boy ten years old, and a putative son of Runjeet, +was brought out of the palace and placed on the throne. But Dhian Singh +was not destined to reap the fruits of his sanguinary treason. In his +first interview with Ajeet after the massacre, he was stabbed by the +hand of his accomplice; who was cut off in his turn the following day, +with many of the sirdars of his party, by Heera Singh, the son of Dhian, +who was commander-in-chief of the army, and had immediately entered the +city with his troops to avenge the death of his father.<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> Heera Singh +now assumed the office of vizier, leaving the title of king to the +puppet Dhuleep, in whose name he has since administered the government, +with the assistance of his father's elder brother Goolab Singh, a +powerful hill chief, who came to Lahore in November with 20,000 of his +own troops, to keep the mutinous soldiers of the regular regiments in +order. Meanwhile disorder and confusion reigns throughout the Punjab, +which is traversed in all directions by plundering bands of Akalees, (a +sort of Sikh fanatics,) and deserters or disbanded soldiers from the +army; while General Ventura and the other European officers have +consulted their own safety by quitting the country; and the remainder of +the vast treasures amassed by Runjeet, are lavished by Heera Singh in +securing the support of the soldiery to sustain him in his perilous +elevation. He is said to have sent off to the mountain strongholds of +his family the famous <i>koh-i-noor</i> diamond, with great part of the royal +treasure; and it was so generally supposed that he meditated ridding +himself of the pageant king Dhuleep, in order to assume in his own +person the ensigns of royalty, that the uncles of the young prince had +made an attempt (which was, however, discovered and frustrated) to carry +him off from Lahore, and place him under British protection. A strong +party also exists in favour of Kashmeer Singh, who is said to be an +illegitimate son of Runjeet; and there were prevalent rumours that +dissensions had broken out between Heera Singh and his uncle; and, +though every care was said to be taken to prevent intelligence from +Lahore reaching the British, there can be little doubt that the country +is now on the eve of another revolution. It is obvious that this state +of things can end only in British intervention, whether rendered +necessary for the security of our own provinces, or called in by one of +the contending parties—which, in either case, must lead either to the +Punjab being taken wholly into our own hands, or occupied and coerced +(like the Nizam's country) by a subsidiary force, under British +officers, supporting on the throne a sovereign bound by treaty to our +interests. An army has been assembled on the Sutlej to watch the +progress of events; but the Sikhs have hitherto cautiously abstained +from giving any pretext for our interference; and, as long as their +disorders are confined within their own frontier, such an act would bear +the aspect of wanton aggression. But though the appropriation of the +Punjab, in whatever form effected, cannot be long delayed, "the pear" +(to use a Napoleonic phrase) "is not yet ripe;" and as we intend to +return to the subject at no distant period, we shall dismiss it for the +present; while we turn to the consideration of the recent occurrences at +Gwalior—events of which the full import is little understood in +England, but which involve no less consequences than the virtual +subjugation of the last native state in India which retained the +semblance of an independent monarchy, and which, scarce forty years +since, encountered the British forces on equal terms at once in +Hindostan and the Dekkan.</p> + +<p>The fortunes of the mighty house of Sindiah were founded by Ranajee, who +was a menial servant early in the last century in the household of the +Peshwah, Bajee Rao; and is said to have first attracted his master's +notice by the care with which he was found clasping to his breast, +during his sleep, the slippers which had been left in his charge. He +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_583" id="Page_583">[Pg 583]</a></span> +subsequently distinguished himself under the Peshwah in the famous +campaigns of 1737-8 against the Mogul emperor, Mohammed Shah: and on the +cession of Malwa to the Mahrattas in 1743, he received the government of +that province as a <i>jaghir</i> or fief, which he transmitted at his death +to his son Mahdajee. The life of this daring and politic chief would be +almost identical with the history, during the same period, of Central +and Upper India, in which he attained such a degree of authority as had +not been held by any prince since Aurungzeeb; but we can here only +briefly trace his career through the labyrinth of war and negotiation. +In the disastrous defeat of Paniput, (1761,) where the united forces of +the Mahratta confederacy were almost annihilated by the Affghans under +Ahmed Shah Doorauni, he received a wound which rendered him lame for +life; but he soon resumed his designs on Hindostan, and in 1771 became +master for a time of Delhi and the person of the Mogul emperor, Shah +Alim. In the war with the English which followed, he conciliated the +esteem of the cabinet of Calcutta, by his generosity to the troops who +submitted at the disgraceful convention of Worgaom, in January 1779: and +at the peace of Salbye, in 1782, his independence was expressly +recognised by the British government, with which he treated as mediator +and plenipotentiary for the Peshwah and the whole Mahratta nation. He +had now, by the aid of a Piedmontese soldier of fortune, named De +Boigne, succeeded in organizing a disciplined force of infantry and +artillery, directed principally by European officers, with which no +native power was able to cope; and in 1785, after defeating +Gholam-Khadir the Rohilla, once more possessed himself of Delhi and its +titular sovereign, who became his pensioner and prisoner, while Sindiah +exercised in his name supreme sway from the Ganges to the Gulf of +Camboy, and from Candeish to the Sutlej. In 1790 he entered the Dekkan, +and was with difficulty prevented by Nana Furnavees, the able minister +of the youthful Peshwah, Madhoo Rao, from usurping the guardianship of +that prince, which would have given him the same ascendancy in the +Dekkan as he already held in Hindostan. But though thus at the summit of +power and prosperity, he constantly affected the humility befitting the +lowly origin of his house; and when at the court of Poonah in 1791, +placed himself below the hereditary nobles of the Mahratta empire, with +a bundle of slippers in his hand, saying, "This is my place, and my +duty, as it was my father's." In the words of Sir John Malcolm, +(<i>Central India</i>, i. 122,) "he was the nominal slave, but the rigid +master, of the unfortunate Shah Alim; the pretended friend, but the +designing rival, of the house of Holkar; the professed inferior in +matters of form, the real superior and oppressor, of the Rajpoot princes +of Central India; and the proclaimed soldier, but actual plunderer, of +the family of the Peshwah."</p> + +<p>Mahdajee Sindiah died at Poonah in 1794, in the fifty-second year of his +age; and, leaving no issue, bequeathed his extensive dominions to his +nephew and adopted son, Dowlut Rao Sindiah. The prince at his accession +found himself master of an army of seventy-five disciplined battalions, +mostly commanded by French officers, and forming an effective force of +45,000 men, with 300 well-equipped guns, and a vast host of irregular +cavalry, armed and appointed in the native fashion; and his territories +included the so-deemed impregnable fortress of Gwalior, as well as +Ahmednuggur, Aurungabad, Broach, and other strong places of minor note. +His influence was paramount at the court of Poonah; and while by the +possession of Cuttack, on the shores of the Bay of Bengal, he +interrupted the communication by land between Calcutta and Madras, his +frontier on the Nerbudda pressed, on the north, the then narrow limits +of the Bombay presidency, which as surrounded on all other sides by the +states of his Mahratta confederates. A prince holding this commanding +position seemed qualified to become the arbiter of India; but Dowlut +Rao, though deficient neither in military capacity nor talent for +government, was only fourteen at the death of his predecessor; and his +inexperience made him a tool in the hands of an unprincipled minister, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_584" id="Page_584">[Pg 584]</a></span> +Shirzee Rao Ghatka, who directed all his efforts to undermine, by force +or intrigue, the ascendency of the upright and patriotic Nana Furnavees +at Poonah. The young Peshwah, Madhoo Rao, had perished in 1795 by a +fall from the roof of his palace; and the reign of his successor, Bajee +Rao, was a constant scene of confusion and bloodshed; till, after the +death of Nana in 1800, he fell completely under the control of Sindiah, +who thus became the virtual head of the Mahratta confederacy. But in an +attempt to crush the rising power of Jeswunt Rao Holkar, the united +forces of Sirdiah and the Peshwah received a complete defeat near +Poonah, in Oct. 1802;—and Bajee Rao, driven from his capital, sought +shelter from the British, with whom he concluded, in December of the +same year, the famous treaty of Bassein, by which he bound himself, as +the price of his restoration to his dominions, to conform to the English +political system, and admit a subsidiary force for the protection of his +states.</p> + +<p>These stipulations amounted, in fact, to the sacrifice of Mahratta +independence; and the war, which from that moment became inevitable, +broke out early in the following year. Sindiah, who had not been +consulted on the treaty of Bassein, from the first refused to be bound +by its conditions; and after some fruitless attempts at negotiation, +took the field (July 1803) in conjunction with Rhagojee Bonsla, the +Rajah of Berar, against the Peshwah and the English. The five months' +campaign which followed, rivaled Napoleon's Prussian warfare of 1806, in +the rapidity with which a great military power was struck down, by (in +the words of Alison) "an uninterrupted series of victories, which +conducted our eastern empire to the proud pre-eminence which it has ever +since retained." Perron, who on the return of De Boigne in 1796 to +Europe, had succeeded him in the government of Hindostan, and the +command of Sindiah's regular troops in that quarter, was defeated by +Lake at Allighur, (Aug. 29,) and soon after quitted India and returned +to his native country; and a second decisive victory under the walls of +Delhi, (Sept. 11,) opened the gates of the ancient Mogul capital to the +British, and released the blind old emperor, Shah Alim, from the long +thraldom in which he had been held by the French and Mahrattas. Agra, +with all the arsenals and military stores, was taken Oct. 17; and the +desperate conflict of Laswarree, (Nov. 1,) consummated the triumphs of +Lake by the almost total annihilation of Sindiah's regulars—seventeen +battalions of whom, with all their artillery, were either destroyed or +taken on the field of battle. The whole of Sindiah's possessions in +Hindostan thus fell into the power of the British—whose successes in +the Dekkan were not less signal and rapid. On the 23d Sept., the +combined army of 50,000 men, commanded in person by Sindiah and the +Rajah of Berar, including 10,000 regular infantry and 30,000 horse, with +upwards of 100 guns, was attacked at <span class='smcap'>Assye</span> by 4500 British and Sepoys +under General Wellesley—and the glorious event of that marvellous +action at once effectually broke the power of the confederates, and for +ever established the fame of <span class='smcap'>Wellington</span>.<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> A last appeal to arms at +Argaom, (Nov. 28,) was attended with no better fortune to the Mahrattas; +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_585" id="Page_585">[Pg 585]</a></span> +and Sindiah and his ally were compelled to sue for peace, which was +concluded with the latter on the 17th, and with the former on the 30th +December. By this treaty the imperial cities of Delhi and Agra, with the +protectorate of the Mogul emperor, and the whole of the <i>Dooab</i>, or +territory between the Jumna and Ganges, were ceded to the British; who +also acquired Cuttack on the eastern coast, and Broach on the western, +with Aurungabad, Ahmednuggur, and extensive territories in the Dekkan. +Sindiah, moreover, agreed to receive a British resident at his court—an +office first filled by Major, afterwards Sir John Malcolm—and engaged +to conform in his foreign policy to the views of the British +government; ceding, at the same time, certain districts for the +maintenance of a subsidiary force, which, however, was not to be +encamped on his territories.</p> + +<p>During the contest with Holkar and the Bhurtpore rajah in the following +year, Sindiah showed strong symptoms of hostility to the British, and +had even put his troops in motion with the view of relieving Bhurtpore; +but the speedy termination of the war saved him from committing himself +by any overt act; and a new treaty was signed, Nov. 1805, in +confirmation of the former, with an express stipulation that the +perfidious Ghatka should be excluded from his councils. He never +afterwards broke with the British government; and though he was known to +have maintained a correspondence with Nepaul during the war of 1815, he +observed a prudent neutrality in the great Mahratta and Pindarree war of +1817-18, which terminated in the total overthrow of all the other +Mahratta princes. This catastrophe left him the only sovereign in India +possessed of any degree of substantial independence, and with a +territory which, after all the cessions, was still of great extent, +though much scattered and intersected by the possessions of Holkar and +other rulers; so that, as Bishop Heber describes it in 1825, "not even +Swabia or the Palatinate can offer a more checkered picture of +interlaced sovereignties than Maywar and indeed all Malwa.... Scarcely +any two villages belong to the sane sovereign." His frontier extended on +the north to the Chumbul, and on the south reached Boorhanpoor and the +Taptee, almost enveloping the remaining dominions of Holkar, and +bordering westward on the Guikwar's country near Baroda.</p> + +<p>The whole superficies comprehended, in a very irregular shape, about +40,000 square miles, with a revenue supposed to exceed £2,000,000; and +the army kept on foot (independent of garrisons and the British +contingent) amounted to 20,000 regular infantry, with from 15,000 to +20,000 horse, and a park of 300 guns. The maintenance of this large +military establishment was a grievous burden to the country, and +frequently involved him in great pecuniary embarrassment; but to the end +of his life it continued to be his chief care. Gwalior, where the +headquarters had been fixed since 1810, became the royal residence; and +the <i>bushkur</i>, or camp, as it was called, gradually swelled into a great +city. The condition of his states in the latter years of his reign, is +thus characterized by the amiable prelate already quoted:—"Sindiah is +himself a man by no means deficient in talents or good intentions, but +his extensive and scattered territories have never been under any +regular system of control; and his Mahratta nobles, though they too are +described as a better race than the Rajpoots, are robbers almost by +profession, and only suppose themselves to thrive when they are living +at the expense of their neighbours. Still, from his well-disciplined +army and numerous artillery, his government has a stability which +secures peace, at least to the districts under his own eye; and as the +Pindarrees feared to provoke him, and even professed to be his subjects, +his country has retained its wealth and prosperity to a greater degree +than most other parts of Central India."</p> + +<p>Dowlut Rao died at Gwalior, March 21, 1827, leaving no male issue; and +with him expired the direct line of Ranajee Sindiah: but he had +previously empowered his widow, the Baiza Baee, (a daughter of the +notorious Ghatka,) in conformity with a practice sanctioned by the +Hindoo law, to adopt a son and successor for him, after his decease, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_586" id="Page_586">[Pg 586]</a></span> +from the other branches of the Sindiah family. Her choice fell on a +youth eleven years of age, named Mookt Rao, then in a humble rank of +life, who was eighth in descent from the grandfather of Ranajee; and he +was accordingly installed, June 18, by the title of Jankojee Sindiah, in +the presence of the British Resident and the chiefs of the army, +espousing at the same time a granddaughter of his predecessor. The +regency was left, in pursuance of the last injunctions of Dowlut Rao, in +the hands of the Baiza Baee, whose administration was marked by much +prudence and ability; but the young Maharajah speedily became so +impatient of the state of tutelage in which he found himself retained, +that Lord William Bentinck, then governor-general, found it expedient to +visit Gwalior as a mediator, in December 1832, in order to reconcile him +to the control of his benefactress, in whom the government for life was +considered to have been vested by the will of her late husband.<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> The +remonstrances of the governor-general produced, however, but little +effect. On the 10th of July 1833, a revolt, fomented by the young +prince, broke out among the soldiery, whose pay had imprudently been +suffered to fall into arrear; and the Baiza Baee, after a fruitless +attempt at resistance, was compelled to quit the Gwalior territory. The +British authorities, though they had previously shown themselves +favourable to her cause, declined any direct interference on her behalf; +and after remaining for some time on the frontier with a body of troops +which had continued faithful to her, in the hope of recovering her power +by a counter-revolution, she eventually fixed her residence at Benares, +leaving her ungrateful <i>protégé</i> in undisturbed possession of the +government. This was administered in the manner which might have been +expected from a youth suddenly raised from poverty to a throne, and +destitute even of the <i>modicum</i> of education usually bestowed on Hindoos +of rank. The revenues of the state were wasted by the Maharajah in low +debauchery, while the administration was left almost wholly in the hands +of his maternal uncle, who bore the title of Mama-Sahib; but his +influence was far from adequate to repress the feuds of the refractory +nobles, and the mutinies of the turbulent and ill-paid troops, who +frequently made the capital a scene of violence and bloodshed. The +relations with the cabinet of Calcutta continued, however, friendly; and +Lord Auckland, when on his return on his famous tour to the Upper +Provinces, paid a visit to Gwalior in January 1840, and was received +with great pomp by the Maharajah. But the frame of Jankojee Sindiah was +prematurely undermined by his excesses; and he died childless, February +7, 1843, not having completed his twenty-seventh year.</p> + +<p>The ceremony of adopting a posthumous heir, which had taken place at the +death of Dowlut Rao, was now repeated; and a boy nine years old, the +nearest kinsman of the deceased sovereign, was placed on the musnud, +under the name of Jeeahjee Rao Sindiah, by the <i>Maha-rane Baee</i>, or +queen-dowager; who, though herself only twelve years of age, assumed the +regency in conjunction with the Mama-Sahib. But little permanence could +be expected in a state so constituted from the government of a child, +and a man without adherents or influence, though they were recognized as +regents by the British authorities:—and the catastrophe was hastened by +an imprudent investigation, which the Mama-Sahib instituted, into the +peculations of the Daola-Khasjee, the minister of the late Maharajah. +The deficit is said to have amounted to not less than three crores of +rupees, (L3,000,000,) which had probably been employed in corrupting the +troops; and on the night of July 16, a general mutiny broke out. The +Resident, finding all interference unavailing, quitted Gwalior with the +Mama-Sahib, and repaired to Dholpoor near the frontier:—while the whole +sovereign power was usurped by the Khasjee, who had succeeded in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_587" id="Page_587">[Pg 587]</a></span> +bringing over the young Baee to his interests, and who even sent troops +and artillery to the banks of the Chumbul, to dispute, if necessary, the +passage of the English. The cabinet of Calcutta now, however, +considered, that the attitude of hostility which had been assumed, as +well as the expulsion of a minister who was in some measure under +British guarantee, justified a departure from the principle of +non-intervention which had hitherto been invariably acted upon with +regard to the internal affairs of the state of Gwalior. A considerable +force, under the title of an army of exercise, was assembled at Agra, +where the commander-in-chief, Sir Hugh Gough, arrived Oct. 21, and was +joined, Dec. 11, by the governor-general himself, who appears to have +regarded the settlement of the once-mighty realm of Sindiah as a +"dignus vindice divo nodus" requiring his immediate presence. The +Gwalior <i>durbar</i>, meanwhile, presented a scene of mingled tumult and +panic—some of the officers having formed a party hostile to the +usurping Khasjee, while the mutinous soldiery loudly clamored against +submission; and letters were dispatched to the Rajpoot and Boondela +chiefs, soliciting their aid to repel the threatened invasion of the +Feringhis. At a council held Dec. 7, the most warlike sentiments +prevailed; and some of the military leaders proposed that the British +should be suffered to pass the Chumbul and besiege Gwalior, while the +Mahrattas, getting round their rear, were to pour down on Agra and +Delhi, and raise the Hindoo population! But the news of the +governor-general's arrival struck them with consternation, and vakeels +were sent to Agra, to learn on what terms a pacification might yet be +effected. The envoys had an audience of the governor-general on the +13th; but the march of the troops had commenced the day before, and was +not countermanded even on the surrender of the Khasjee, who was brought +in chains to Dholpoor on the 17th—the military chiefs opposed to him +having persuaded or compelled the Baee to give him up—and he was +immediately sent off as a state-prisoner to Agra.</p> + +<p>The army meanwhile, had entered the Gwalior territory, and a +proclamation was issued, declaring that it appeared "not as an enemy, +but as a friend to the Maharajah, bound by treaty to protect his +highness's person, and to maintain his sovereign authority against all +who are disobedient and disturbers of the peace." The insurgent chiefs, +who appear to have confidently expected that the British would withdraw +as soon as the Khasjee was given up, now made fresh attempts at +negotiation; and matters were apparently so far arranged, that +preparations were made for the reception of the Baee, in camp, on the +28th. But it was soon evident that these overtures had been made only +for the sake of gaining time; and after a halt of five days, which had +been actively employed by the Mahrattas, the troops resumed their +advance upon Gwalior, accompanied by the governor-general in person. On +the 29th of December, the two divisions under the commander-in-chief and +General Grey, moving on separate lines of march, found the enemy drawn +up in well-chosen positions at Maharajpoor and Punniar, and prepared to +resist their progress. The British and Sepoy effective strength was +about 14,000 men, with forty guns, and a small body of cavalry: the +Mahratta infantry was nearly equal in number; but they had 3000 horse, +and all the advantages of a strong position, on heights protected in +front by difficult ravines, and defended by a hundred pieces of +excellently served artillery. The conflict appears to have been the +severest which had been seen in India since Laswarree and Assye. The +Mahrattas, (as described in the official accounts of Sir Hugh Gough, who +admits that he "had not done justice to the gallantry of his +opponents,") after their intrenchments and batteries had been carried by +the bayonet, with severe loss to the assailants, "received the shock +without flinching; and fought, sword in hand, with the most determined +courage." But they were at last driven from their ground, with great +carnage, by the superior prowess of the Anglo-Indian troops, whose +double victory was dearly purchased by the loss of more than 1000 killed +and wounded, including an unusual proportion of officers. All resistance +was now at an end: Gwalior, the Gibraltar of the East, was entered +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_588" id="Page_588">[Pg 588]</a></span> +without opposition; and a treaty was concluded, Jan. 10, ratified by the +governor-general and the restored regent, "for securing the future +tranquillity of the common frontier of the two states, establishing the +just authority of the Maharajah's government, and providing for the +proper exercise of that authority during his highness's minority." The +defeated army was to be in great part disbanded, and an additional +contingent force levied, of seven regiments of infantry and two of +cavalry, with twenty guns—a proportionate extent of territory, we +presume, being ceded for its maintenance, as usual in such cases: +exchanges were further made of certain frontier districts, for the +mutual convenience of the two contracting powers; and last, not least, +the expenses of the campaign were to be disbursed forthwith from the +Gwalior treasury. Every thing being thus settled satisfactorily, at +least to one party, the troops were to retire, without loss of time, +within the British frontier, leaving the internal administration in the +hands of the Mama-Sahib and the Baee; and the governor-general was to +set out from Gwalior on the 17th of January, on his return to Calcutta. +Thus the expedition, both in a diplomatic and military point of view, +was crowned with complete success. We must now proceed to examine it in +its political bearings.</p> + +<p>The proclamation of British supremacy over India by the Marquis of +Hastings, after the conclusion, in 1818, of the war with the Mahrattas +and Pindarrees, amounted to an assumption on the part of the Company of +the same position relative to the native powers, as had been held by the +monarchs of the house of Timoor—who, from the conquest of Delhi by +Baber, adopted the title of Padishah or emperor, as lords-paramount of +India, and lost no opportunity of enforcing the <i>imperial</i> rights, thus +asserted, against the other Hindoo and Moslem princes among whom the +country was divided; till after a century and a half of incessant +aggressive warfare, Aurungzeeb succeeded in uniting under his rule the +whole of Hindostan and the Dekkan, from the Himalaya to Cape Comorin. +Less than half that period sufficed for the establishment of the +Anglo-Indian empire on a far firmer basis than that of the Moguls had +ever attained; and if the same claim of indefeasible <i>suzerainté</i>, which +was set forward by their Moslem predecessors, had been openly advanced +and avowed as a principle, as it has long been acted upon <i>de facto</i>, it +would have been at once far more candid, and far more intelligible to +the natives, than the course which has been pursued, of grounding every +aggression on some pretended infraction of a compulsory treaty. The +recent case of Gwalior affords a strong illustration of the point which +we are endeavouring to establish, as the relations of that state with +the supreme government have hitherto been different from those of the +Indian sovereignties in general.<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> While the other native princes +(with the exception only of the Rajpoot chiefs of Bikaneer, Jesulmeer, +&c., who lay beyond what might till lately be considered the British +boundary) had surrendered the military possession of their territories, +almost entirely, to subsidiary corps under the control of the Company, +the dynasty of Sindiah alone (though British influence had been more +sensibly exercised under the feeble rule of Jankojee than during the +life of Dowlut Rao) still preserved its domestic independence almost +untouched, and kept on foot a powerful army, besides the contingent<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> +which it was bound by treaty to maintain—the only other mark of +dependence being the obligation not to contract alliances hostile to +British interests. If we are to regard the late transactions in this +point of view, it will be difficult to justify the invasion of an +<i>independent</i> and friendly state on no other ground than our +disapprobation of a change of ministry, accompanied, though it may have +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_589" id="Page_589">[Pg 589]</a></span> +been, with the tumult and violence which are the usual concomitants of +an Asiatic revolution. But if the Company (as we conceive to be the +<i>practical</i> aspect of the question) are held to be at the present day +the recognized, as well as the <i>de facto</i>, representatives of the Mogul +monarchs, there can be no doubt that, on the death of Jankojee Sindiah, +his dominions might fairly have been annexed to the Anglo-Indian empire +as a lapsed fief which had reverted to the suzerain by the failure of +heirs—a rule which would have been equally applicable to the case of +the rival Mahratta house of Holkar, the male line of which also became +extinct last year, and was replaced on the musnud of Indore by a boy +seven years old, a <i>adopted</i> son of Hurry Rao Holkar. From the death of +Dowlut Rao Sindiah, indeed, the Gwalior state had presented a scene of +anarchy and misgovernment, to which allusion is made in the proclamation +of the governor-general;<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> and which, from the impunity it afforded to +the remnant of the Pindarrees and other marauders, and the consequent +insecurity of life and property both in the interior and on the +frontier, was intolerable alike to its neighbours and to its own +subjects. Under these circumstances, the acquiescence of the cabinet of +Calcutta in a second adoption of a child, to fill the throne of a +kingdom already brought to the verge of ruin by the vices and incapacity +of the former occupant, can be regarded in no other light than as an +injudicious stretch of forbearance, injurious to our own interests, and +uncalled for by those of the state thus subjected to a continuance of +misrule; and it is to be regretted, that our late victories have not +been followed up by the formal occupation of the country, and the +establishment of the order and strong government to which it has long +been a stranger. No other result can be anticipated from the half +measures which have been adopted, than the creation of a state of +confusion and resistance to authority, similar to that which prevails in +the distracted kingdom of Oude—ending inevitably, though perhaps at the +expense of a fresh contest, in its incorporation with the dominions of +the Company. Meanwhile, (as observed in the <i>Times</i> of March 8th,) "we +have roused the passions of the Mahrattas against their sovereign and +against ourselves; but we have not taken that opportunity which the +moment of victory gave us, of effectuating a government essentially +strong and beneficial to the governed. The time therefore, we may +expect, will come, when a second interference will be demanded, both by +the recollection of our present conquest and the incompleteness of its +consequences; and we shall be doomed to find, that we have won two +hard-fought battles merely to enforce the necessity of a third."</p> + +<p>The late campaign, short as it has fortunately been, becomes important, +if viewed with reference to a subject to which we have more than once +before alluded,<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> but which cannot be too often or too prominently +brought before the British public, who should never be suffered to lose +sight of the great truth, that it is <i>by our military power alone</i> that +we hold our Indian empire. It is evident from all the circumstances, not +less than from the candid confession of Sir Hugh Gough himself, that the +determined resistance opposed by the Gwalior troops, (whom of late years +it has been the fashion in the Indian army to speak of as "Sindiah's +rabble,") and the discipline and valour shown in the defence of their +positions, were wholly unexpected by their assailants. But the prowess +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_590" id="Page_590">[Pg 590]</a></span> +and unflinching resolution displayed at Maharajpoor and Punniar, under +all the disadvantages of a desperate cause and inefficient commanders, +were worthy of the troops of De Boigne and Perron in their best days, +and amply prove that the Mahrattas of the present day have not +degenerated from their fathers, whose conduct at Assye won the praise of +the great Duke himself.<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> The defeat of British force in a pitched +battle on the soil of India, would be a calamity of which no man could +calculate the consequences; yet such a result would not have been +impossible, if the contempt of our commanders for the enemy had brought +them to the encounter with inadequate numbers; and the rulers of India +have reason to congratulate themselves that this underrated force +remained quiescent during our Affghan disasters, when intrigue and +difficulties were at their height among both Hindoos and Moslems, and +every disposable regiment was engaged beyond the Indus, in a warfare, of +the speedy termination of which there then appeared little prospect; +while the Moslems, both of the north and south, in Rohilcund and the +Dekkan, were on the verge of insurrection, the Rajah of Sattarah, the +representative of the former head of that great Mahratta confederacy, of +which Sindiah was then the only member retaining any degree of +independence, was busied in conspiracies, the absurdity of the proposed +means for which was not<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> (as some of his advocates in England +attempted to maintain) a proof of their non-existence. Had the old +Mahratta spirit been then alive in the breast of the degenerate +successor of Dowlut Rao, the appearance in the field of 20,000 troops +with a considerable share of discipline, and a numerous and excellent +artillery, might at once have given the signal, and formed a nucleus, +for a rising which would have comprehended almost every man who could +bear arms, and would have shaken to the centre, if not overthrown +utterly, the mighty fabric of our Eastern empire. It is true that the +indolent and sensual character of Jankojee Sindiah gave no grounds for +apprehension at the time; and the period of danger has now passed away; +nor is it probable that the Gwalior army, even if left at its present +strength, can ever again be in a situation to give trouble to our +government. But it is not less true, that when our difficulties were +greatest, a disciplined force did exist, in a position the most central +in India, which might have turned the quivering beam, if it had been +thrown into the scale against us in the moment of extreme peril.<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a></p> + +<p>It is, therefore, with far different feelings from those expressed by +some of the newspaper scribes, both in India and England, that we heard +the declaration ascribed to the present governor-general, on his arrival +in India, "that the army should be his first care;"<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> and have +witnessed the spirit in which it has since been acted upon. "India," +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_591" id="Page_591">[Pg 591]</a></span> +again to quote his own words on a late public occasion, "was won by the +sword;" yet the military spirit of the army, on which the preservation +of our empire depends, had been damped, and its efficiency wofully +impaired, by the injudicious reductions introduced by Lord William +Bentinck and persevered in by his successor; and the reverses and losses +of the Affghan war, following close in the train of these ill-advised +measures, had produced a disaffection for the service, and deterioration +in the <i>morale</i> of the sepoys, from which evil auguries were drawn by +those best acquainted with the peculiar temperament of the native +soldiery.<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> The efforts of Lord Ellenborough have been from the first +directed to remove this unfavourable impression of neglect from the +minds of the troops; and the heroism displayed by the sepoys under his +own eye, in the late desperate encounters before Gwalior, must have +brought home to his mind the gratifying conviction that his efforts had +not been in vain. We noticed with satisfaction last year, the +well-deserved honours and rewards distributed to the corps, by whose +exploits the transient cloud thrown over our arms in Affghanistan had +been cleared away; and the same course has been worthily followed up in +the decorations cast from the captured Mahratta cannon, and conferred, +without distinction of officers or men, British or Sepoys, on the +victors of Maharajpoor and Punniar; as well as in the triumphal +monuments to be erected by Bombay for the victories in Scinde, and at +Calcutta for those before Gwalior. But while we render full justice to +the valour, patience, and fidelity of the sepoy infantry, now deservedly +rewarded by participation in those honours from which they have been too +long excluded, the truth remains unchanged of that of which Lake, and +many others since Lake of those who best knew India, have in vain +striven to impress the conviction on the authorities at home—the +paramount importance of a large intermixture of <i>British</i> troops. "I am +convinced that, <i>without King's troops</i>, very little is to be expected +... there ought always to be at least one European battalion to four +native ones: this I think necessary." And again, in his despatch to the +Marquis Wellesley, the day after the arduous conflict at Laswarree—"The +action of yesterday has convinced me how impossible it is to do any +thing without British troops; and of them there ought to be a very great +proportion." It is true that the regulation lately promulgated by the +Duke of Wellington, that the heavy cavalry regiments shall in future +take their turn of Indian service, will in some measure remedy the evil +in that branch where it is most felt; and will at once increase their +military strength in India, and diminish the length of absence of the +different corps from Europe. The misconduct of the native regular +cavalry, indeed, on more than one occasion during the late Affghan war, +has shown that they are not much to be depended upon when resolutely +encountered. They are ill at ease in the European saddles, and have no +confidence in the regulation swords when opposed to the trenchant edge +of the native <i>tulwars</i>; while, on the other hand, the laurels earned by +Skinner's, Hearsay's, and other well-known corps of irregular horse, +might almost have induced the military authorities in India to follow +the example of the Mahrattas, who never attempted to extend to their +cavalry the European discipline which they bestowed on their infantry. +The sepoy infantry has ever been <i>sans peur et sans reproche</i>; yet, +though some of the most distinguished regiments of the Bengal army were +in the field before Gwalior, the honour of storming the death-dealing +batteries of Maharajpoor, was reserved for the same gallant corps which +led the way to victory under Clive at Plassey—her Majesty's 39th—and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_592" id="Page_592">[Pg 592]</a></span> +which has now once more proved its title to the proud motto emblazoned +on its standards, <i>Primus in Indis</i>! The words of Lord Lake, (to refer +to him once more,) in his account of the battle of Delhi, might have +been adopted without variation by Lord Ellenborough in describing the +late actions. "The sepoys have behaved excessively well; but from my +observations on this day, as well as every other, it is impossible to do +great things in a gallant and quick style without Europeans;" and we +trust that, whenever the time shall arrive for the return of the present +governor-general to Europe, he will not fail to avail himself of the +weight which his personal experience will give him in the councils of +the nation, to enforce the adoption of a measure which, sooner or later, +will inevitably become one of absolute necessity.</p> + +<p>No former governor-general of India entered on his office—at all times +the most arduous under the British crown—under such unfavourable +auspices, and with such a complicated accumulation of difficulties to +combat, as Lord Ellenborough; few, if any, of his predecessors have had +their actions, their motives, and even their words, exposed to such an +unsparing measure of malicious animadversion and wilful misconstruction; +yet none have passed so triumphantly through the ordeal of experience. +Many of his measures may now be judged of by their fruits; and those of +the Calcutta press who were loudest in their cavils, compelled to admit +the success which has attended them, are reduced to aim their censures +at the alleged magniloquence of the governor-general's proclamations; +which, it should always be remembered in England, are addressed to a +population accustomed to consider the bombast of a Persian secretary as +the <i>ne plus ultra</i> of human composition, and which are not, therefore, +to be judged by the European standard of taste. Much of the hostility +directed against Lord Ellenborough, is, moreover, owing to his resolute +emancipation of himself from the bureaucracy of secretaries and members +of council, who had been accustomed to exercise control as "viceroys +over" his predecessors, and who were dismayed at encountering a man +whose previously acquired knowledge of the country which he came to +govern, enabled him to dispense with the assistance and dictation of +this red-tape camarilla. Loud were the complaints of these gentry at +what they called the despotism of the new governor-general, on finding +themselves excluded from that participation in state secrets in which +they had long reveled, in a country where so much advantage may be +derived from knowing beforehand what is coming at headquarters. But much +of the success of Lord Ellenborough's government may be attributed to +the secrecy with which his measures were thus conceived, and the +promptitude with which his personal activity and decision enabled him to +carry them into effect—success of which the merit is thus due to +himself alone, and to the liberty of action which he obtained by shaking +off at once the etiquettes which had hitherto trammeled the Indian +government. In July 1842 we ventured to pronounce, that "on the course +of Lord Ellenborough's government will mainly depend the question of the +future stability, or gradual decline, of our Anglo-Indian empire; and +if, at the conclusion of his viceroyalty, he has only so far succeeded +as to restore our foreign and domestic relations to the same state in +which they stood ten years since, he will merit to be handed down to +posterity by the side of Clive and Hastings." The task has been nobly +undertaken and gallantly carried through; and though time alone can show +how far the present improved aspect of Indian affairs may be destined to +permanency, Lord Ellenborough is at least justly entitled to the merit +of having wrought the change, as far as it rests with one man to do so, +by the firm and fearless energy with which he addressed himself to the +enterprise.</p> + + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> It is to be regretted that the British government has never +requested the Porte to dispatch a mission to ascertain the fate of these +unfortunate officers. The Turkish Sultan is reversed at Bokhara as the +legitimate Commander of the Faithful, and his rescript would be treated +as a sacred mandate.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> Portraits of most of the actors in this bloody drama will be found +in Osborne's <i>Court and Camp of Runjeet Singh</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> A note of Grant Duff, (<i>History of the Mahrattas</i>, iii. 239,) +relative to this period in the life of the British hero, is worth +quoting—"I have had occasion to observe how well the Duke of Wellington +must have known the Mahrattas, from having read his private letters to +Sir Barry Close (then Resident at Poonah) during the war of 1803. +Without being acquainted with their language, and, one would have +supposed, with little opportunity of knowing the people or their +history, his correct views of the Mahratta character and policy are very +remarkable. As the letters in question were shown to me confidentially +in 1817, in the course of my official duties, I may be only authorized +to state that, in some instances, his opinion of individuals, +particularly of Bajee Rao, was correctly prophetic." These letters are +now before the public, in the first and third volumes of Gurwood's +<i>Despatches</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> See <i>Asiatic Journal</i>, May 1834. P. 7, Part II.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> See Montgomery Martin's <i>British Colonies</i>, i. p. 49, &c.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> The Gwalior contingent was called into the field on the occasion of +the late disturbances in Bundelkund, and did good service.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> "The want of cordial co-operation on the part of the officers of +the Gwalior state, in the maintenance of order on the frontier, had long +been a subject of just remonstrance, and various orders had been issued +by the late Maharajah, in accordance with the representations of the +British resident. These orders had but too often remained without due +execution; but in consideration of the long illness of his highness, and +the consequent weakness of his administration, the British government +had not pressed for satisfaction with all the rigour which the +importance of the subject would have warranted."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> See <i>Maga</i>, Aug. 1841, p. 174; July 1842, p. 110, &c.; and Feb. +1843, p. 75.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> "Our action on the 23d Sept. was the most severe battle that I have +ever seen, or that I believe has been fought, in India. The enemy's +cannonade was terrible, but the result shows what a small number of +<i>British troops</i> will do."—<i>The Duke of Wellington to Colonel Murray, +Gurwood's Despatches</i>, i. 444. "It was not possible for any man to lead +a body into a hotter fire than he did the picquets that day at +Assye."—<i>Letter to Colonel Munro</i>, <i>ib.</i> 403.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> See our Number for July 1842, p. 108.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> The strength of the Mahratta army, at the time of Lord Auckland's +visit, was estimated at 35,000 men of all arms, including 15,000 +irregular cavalry and 250 guns, besides the <i>Ekhas</i>, or body-guard of +500 nobles, privileged to sit in the sovereign's presence, who were +subsequently disbanded by Jankojee for disaffection. The infantry was +divided into four brigades, and consisted of thirty-four regular +regiments of 600 men each, and five regiments of irregular foot, or +<i>nujeebs</i>. A few of Dowlut Rao's French officers still survived; the +remainder were their sons and grandsons, and adventurers from all parts +of the earth. Not fewer than 25,000 troops, with nearly all the +artillery, were generally at headquarters in the <i>bushkur</i>, or camp, of +Gwalior.—See <i>Asiatic Journal</i>, May 1840.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> "We see much more of Toryism than of truth in this opinion," +observes the <i>Eastern Star</i>, as quoted in the <i>Asiatic Journal</i> for +December; "and we believe the man who entertains it, the last who should +ever be entrusted with power in this empire. It is as dangerous a +delusion as it would be to imagine we could do without an army at +all."—Pro-di-gi-ous!</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> See an extract from the <i>Madras United Service Gazette</i>, in our +Number for Feb. 1843, p. 275, note.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_FREETHINKER" id="THE_FREETHINKER"></a>THE FREETHINKER.</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_593" id="Page_593">[Pg 593]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"With us ther was a <span class='smcap'>Doctour of Phisike</span><br /></span> + +<span class="i0">In all this world ne was ther non him like<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To speke of phisike and of surgerie:<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He knew the cause of every maladie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were it of cold, or hote, or moist, or drie,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wher engendered, and of what humour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was a veray parfite practioner—<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His studie was but litel on the Bible."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center"><span class='smcap'>Chaucer</span>.</p> + + +<p>It was in the year 18— that I completed my professional education in +England, and decided upon spending in Paris the two years which had +still to elapse, before my engagement with my guardians would require me +to present myself for examination and approval at the Royal College of +Surgeons in London. The medical schools and hospitals of Paris were +then, as now, famous for their men of science, and for the useful +discoveries which clinical instruction—bedside ingenuity and +industry—is morally certain to carry along with it. Whatever may be +said of the French practitioners as a body—and my professional +brethren, I know, bring against them, as a national reproach, the charge +of inefficiency in the <i>treatment</i> of disease, (remarkable for acuteness +and truth as their <i>diagnosis</i> is allowed to be)—still I think it will +not be denied, that chiefly to the Parisian physicians, and to the +untiring energy of particular individuals amongst them, whom it would +not be difficult to name, are we indebted at this moment for some of the +most important knowledge that we possess—knowledge, be it understood, +derived altogether from investigations diligently pursued at the +patient's bedside, and obtained with the greatest judgment, difficulty, +and pains. As I write, the honourable and European reputation of <i>Louis</i> +occurs to my mind—an instance of universal acknowledgment rendered to +genius and talents wholly or principally devoted to the alleviation of +human suffering, and to the acquisition of wisdom in the form and by the +method to which I have adverted.</p> + +<p>A mere attempt to refer to the many and various obligations which the +continental professors of medicine have laid upon mankind during the +last half century, would fill a book. They were well known and spoken of +in my youth, and the names of many learned foreigners were at that +period associated in my bosom with sentiments of awe and veneration. It +was some time after I had once resolved to go abroad, before I fixed +upon Paris as my destination. <i>Langanbeck</i>, the greatest operator of his +day, the <i>Liston</i> of Germany, was performing miracles in Hanover. +<i>Tiedemann</i>, a less nimble operator, but a far more learned surgeon, had +already made the medical schools of Heidelberg famous by his lectures +and still valued publications; whilst the lamented and deeply +penetrating <i>Stromeyer</i>—the tutor and friend of our own amiable and +early-lost Edward Turner—had established himself already in +<i>Göttingen</i>, and drawn around him a band of enthusiastic students who +have since done honour to their teacher, and in their turn become +eminent amongst the first chemists of the day. With such and similar +temptations from many quarters, it was not easy to arrive at a steady +determination. I had hardly thought of Paris, when—as it often +happens—a thing of a moment relieved me from difficulty and doubt, and +helped me at once to a decision. A letter one morning by the post +induced me to set out for the giddiest and yet most fascinating of +European cities. James M'Linnie—who, by the way, died only the other +day of dysentery at Hong-Kong, a few hours after landing with the troops +upon that luckless island—was an old hospital acquaintance, and, like +me, <i>cutting and hewing</i> his way to fame and fortune. He had +distinguished himself at Guy's, and quitted that school with every +reasonable prospect of success in his profession. He had not only passed +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_594" id="Page_594">[Pg 594]</a></span> +muster before the high and mighty court of examiners, but had received +on the occasion the personal warm congratulations of Abernethy and Sir +Astley Cooper; the former of whom, indeed, before he asked M'Linnie a +question, gave him confidence in his peculiar way, by requesting him +"not to be a frightened fool, for Mr. Abernethy was not the brute the +world was pleased to make him out;" and after a stiff and rough +examination shook the student heartily by the hand, and pronounced him +"not an ass, like all the world, but a sensible shrewd fellow, who, +instead of muddling his head with books, had passed his days, very +properly, where real life was only to be met with"—<i>videlicet</i>, in the +dead-house.</p> + +<p>James M'Linnie was, at the time of which I speak, himself in Paris, and +enthusiastic in his devotion to the indefatigable and highly-gifted +teachers amongst whom he lived. He wrote to me, in the letter to which I +have above adverted—the first I received from him after his departure +from England—in the most glowing terms respecting them; and conjured me +by the love I bore our glorious profession—by my ardent aspirations +after fame, and by the strong desire which, he believed, I entertained +with himself and the majority of men, to serve and benefit my +fellow-creatures—not to waste my precious hours in England, but to join +him instantly "in the finest field of <i>operations</i> that the world +presented." "We are pigmies in London," he continued in his own ardent +fashion—"boys, children, infants—they are <i>giants</i> here. Such +anatomists! such physicians! Fancy one of our first men, C—— for +instance, standing for nearly one hour at the bedside of a labouring +man, and tracing the fellow's history step by step, patiently and +searchingly, in order to arrive at the small beginnings of disease, its +earliest indications, and first causes. I saw it done yesterday by one +to whom C—— could not hold a candle—a man whose reputation is +continental—whose practice does not leave him a moment in the day for +personal recreation—who is loaded with honours and distinctions. The +students listen to him as to an oracle; and with cause. He leaps to no +conclusions—his sterling mind satisfies itself with nothing but truth, +and is content to labour after mere glimpses and intimations, which it +secures for future comparison and study. Remind me when you come +out—for come out you must—of the story of the baker. I will tell it +you then in full. It is a capital instance of the professor's acuteness +and ability. A patient came into the hospital a month ago; his case +puzzled every one; nothing could be done for him, and he was about to be +discharged. The professor saw him, visited him regularly for a +week—watched him—noted every trifling symptom—prescribed for him;—in +vain. The man did not rally—and the professor could not say what ailed +him. One morning the latter came to the patient's bedside, and said, +'You tell me, <i>mon enfant</i>, that you have been a porter. Were you never +in any other occupation?' 'Yes,' groaned the poor fellow; 'I drove a +cabriolet for a year or two'—— 'Go on,' said the professor +encouragingly. 'And then,' continued the man, 'and then I was at a +boot-maker's; afterwards at a saddler's—and at last a porter.' 'You +have never worked at any other trade?' 'Never, sir.' 'Think again—be +quite sure.' 'No—never, sir.' Have you never been a baker?' 'Oh yes, +sir—that was twenty years ago—and only for a few months; but I was so +ill at the oven that I was obliged to give it up.' 'That will do, <i>mon +enfant</i>—don't tire yourself, try and go to sleep.' In the lecture-room +afterwards, the professor addressed the students thus: 'Gentlemen—once +in the course of my practice, I have met with the case of the porter, +and only once. It is now eighteen years since. The patient was a +baker—and I examined the subject after death. This man will die.' The +lecturer then proceeded to describe minutely and lucidly the seat of the +disease, its nature, and best treatment. He told them what might be done +by way of alleviation, and directed them to look for such and such +appearances after death. The man lingered for a few days, and then +departed. At the <i>post mortem</i>, the professor was found to be correct in +every particular. What say you to this by way of memory and quick +intelligence?" The letter went on to speak of the facility of procuring +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_595" id="Page_595">[Pg 595]</a></span> +subjects—as cheap and plentiful, to use M'Linnie's phrase, "as herrings +in England;" of the daily exhibition in the dissecting room of disease +of all kinds, in all stages; of the enthusiastic natures of both +teachers and pupils; of the earnest and inspiring character of hospital +practice; and at last, wound up its flattering history with a +peroration, that extinguished in an instant every spark of hesitation +that lingered in my mind. In less than a fortnight after M'Linnie's +summons, I was one of a mixed party in a diligence and eight, galloping +over the high-road to Paris, at the rate of five statute miles an hour.</p> + +<p>I had taken care to carry abroad with me an introduction to <i>one</i> +influential member of the profession. I say <i>one</i>, because I refused, +with deliberation, to <i>encumber</i> myself, as Doctor Johnson has it, with +more help than was actually necessary to my well-doing. A travelling +student, with a key to the confidence of one man of power and kindred +spirit, has all that he can desire for every professional purpose. If +his happiness depend upon social enjoyments, and he must needs journey +with a messenger's bag, or be utterly miserable, let him by all means +save his travelling expenses, and visit his natural acquaintances. My +letter of credit was obtained from my friend H——, who at the time +filled the anatomical chair at Guy's, and to whom I am grateful for more +acts of real kindness than he is willing to allow. To this letter of +credit, and to the acquaintance formed by its means, the reader is +indebted for the curious history I am about to relate. That the former +was likely to lead to something original and unusual, I certainly +suspected when H—— placed the document in my hands, with his last +words of caution and advice. I could hardly dream of half that was to +follow.</p> + +<p>"Pray, take care of yourself, Mr Walpole," said my good friend; "you are +going to a very dangerous and seductive city, and you will require all +your firmness and good principles to save you from the force of evil +example. Don't be led away—don't be led away—that is all I beg of +you."</p> + +<p>"I shall be careful, sir."</p> + +<p>"You will see in the medical students of Paris a different set of men to +that which you have been accustomed to mix with here. There are some +fine fellows amongst them—hard-working, bold, enterprising young men; +but they are a strange body taken as a while. Don't cotton too quickly +with any one of them."</p> + +<p>"Very well, sir."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid you will find many highly improper notions prevalent +amongst them—immoral, shocking, disgraceful. Pray, don't assume the +manners of a Frenchman, Mr Walpole—much less his vices. There are very +few medical students in Paris who do not lead, I am sorry to say, a very +disreputable life; and make it a boast to live in open shame. You must +not learn to approve of conduct in Paris which you would have no +hesitation in pronouncing criminal in London."<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a></p> + +<p>"Certainly not, sir."</p> + +<p>"And let me, as a friend, entreat you, my dear sir, at no time to forget +that you are a Christian and a Protestant gentleman. Be sober and +rational, and, if there be any truth in religion at all, do not make a +mockery of it, by converting the Lord's day into a monstrous Saturnalia. +Here is your letter."</p> + +<p>I took the document, bowed, and read the superscription. It was +addressed to Baron F——, chief surgeon at the Hotel Dieu, &c. &c. &c.</p> + +<p>"I introduce you, Mr Walpole," continued the anatomist, "to one of the +most extraordinary men in Europe—and, what is more to the purpose, to +one of the best. Warmer benevolence, a more eager anxiety to relieve and +benefit his fellow-mortals, never burned in the heart of man. He is, +unquestionably, incontestably the first surgeon of the day; as a man of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_596" id="Page_596">[Pg 596]</a></span> +science he is appealed to by the whole learned world—his practice is +enormous, and the fortune he has amassed by his unwearied industry and +perseverance immense; especially considered in reference to the career +of the most successful surgeons in Paris, who, if I mistake not, have +lived and died comparatively poor. Looked up to, however, as he is by +the learned and the great, you will, I think, when you know him, agree +with me in regarding his kindness to the helpless—his earnest +solicitude for the disabled poor who come under his care—his +unremitting attention to their complaints and wants—as constituting the +worthy baron's chief excellance. We are old friends; and for my sake I +am sure he will receive you well, and afford you all the assistance and +information in his power. He will put you on your mettle; and you must +be no lie-a-bed if you would profit by his instruction. At six in the +morning you will find him daily at his post in the hospital; and, whilst +sluggards are turning in their beds, he has prescribed for a hundred +sick, and put them in spirits for the day by his words of tenderness and +support."</p> + +<p>"Did you study under the baron?" I enquired.</p> + +<p>"I attended his lectures some years ago with the greatest advantage. I +never in my life was more struck by the amount of knowledge possessed by +one man. I attached myself to the professor, and he was pleased to admit +me to his friendship. I have lately been surprised to hear his manners +pronounced rough and even brutal, and his temper morose. For my own +part—and I watched him closely—I saw nothing but gentleness, and an +active disposition to do good at all times. The poor women and children +in the hospital loved him as a father, and I have seen their pale cheeks +flush, and dull eyes glisten as he approached their beds. This, I +thought, bespoke any thing but roughness and brutality in the surgeon. +What say you?"</p> + +<p>"It would seem so."</p> + +<p>"Well—I have written the baron a long letter concerning myself and my +own pursuits, believing that it will serve your interests better than a +mere formal letter of introduction. He will, I am sure, be pleased to +see you. Remember, Mr Walpole, an opportunity like the present may never +occur to you again. Be wise, and make the most of it."</p> + +<p>Thus spoke my friend, and thus I received from him my credentials. My +only object in Paris was the ostensible one for which I came; and +accordingly, therefore, having secured a comfortable home with Madame +Bichat, a worthy motherly person residing in the "<i>Rue Richelieu, +vis-à-vis le Palais Royal</i>"—and having spent one long and gossiping +evening with my ancient chum M'Linnie—I buckled at once to my work. +Postponing all recreation and amusement until the time should arrive +which would make them lawful and give them zest, I left my lodgings the +second morning after my appearance in Paris, and made my way straight to +the dwelling-house of my future patron. It was eleven o'clock, the hour +at which the baron usually returned from the Hotel Dieu; five hours, +viz. from six till eleven <span class='smcap'>A.M</span>., being, as M'Linnie assured me, the time +allotted daily to the poor by the conscientious and distinguished +practitioner.</p> + +<p>The baron was a bachelor, and he lived in first-rate style; that is to +say, he had magnificent apartments, in which it was his delight to +collect occasionally the united wit and learning of the capital, and a +handsome table for his friends at all times; for his hospitality was +unbounded. And yet his own daily habits were as simple and primitive as +might be. When at home, he passed his hours in the library, and slept in +the small bedroom adjoining it. The latter, like all dormitories in +France, was without a carpet, and altogether no better furnished than a +private ward in an English hospital. There was a small iron bedstead +just large enough for a middle-sized bachelor in one corner—a washing +apparatus in another—and a table and two chairs at some distance from +both. The naked and even uncomfortable aspect of this apartment had an +absolutely chilling effect upon me, as I passed through it on my way to +the great man himself; for, strange to say, the only road to the library +was through this melancholy chamber. Great men as well as small have +their "whims and oddities." The baron was reported to have taken pains +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_597" id="Page_597">[Pg 597]</a></span> +to make, what appeared to me, a very incommodious arrangement. A door +which had conducted to the library upon the other side of it had been +removed, and the aperture in which it had stood blocked up, whilst the +wall on this side had been cut away in order to effect an entrance. And +what was the reason assigned for so much unnecessary labour? The baron +had risen from nothing—had spent his early days in poverty and even +misery; and he wished to perpetuate the remembrance of his early +struggles, lest he should grow proud in prosperity, and forgetful of his +duties. The frequent sight of the few articles of furniture which had +been his whole stock twenty years before, was likely more than any thing +else to keep the past vividly before his eyes, and he placed them +therefore, to use his own words as attributed to him by my informant, +"between the flattery of the dazzling world without, and the silence of +his chamber of study and meditation." They no doubt answered their +object, in rendering the possessor at times low-spirited, since they +were certainly likely to have that effect even upon a stranger. On the +day of my introduction, however, I had little time for observation. My +name had been announced, and I passed rapidly on to the <i>sanctum +sanctorum</i>.</p> + +<p>There is an aristocracy of <span class='smcap'>mind</span> as well as an aristocracy of wealth and +social station; and, unless you be a soulless Radical, you cannot +approach a distinguished member of the order without a glow of loyal +homage, as honourable to its object as it is grateful to your own +self-respect. I entered the library of the far-famed professor with a +reverend step; he was seated at a large table, which was literally +covered with books, <i>brochures</i>, and letters opened and sealed. He was +dressed very plainly, wearing over a suit of mourning a dark coloured +dressing-gown, which hung loosely about him. He was, without exception, +the finest man I had ever seen, and I stopped involuntarily to look at +and admire him. As he sat, I judged him to be upwards of six feet in +height—(I afterwards learned that he stood six feet two,)—he was stout +and well-proportioned—his chest broad and magnificent—his frame +altogether muscular and sinewy. The face was full of authority and +command—every feature handsome, including even the well drawn lip, in +which there seemed to lurk scorn enough to wither you, if roused. The +brow was full, prominent, and overhanging—the eye small, blue, and +beaming with benevolence. Nature was mischievous when she brought that +eye and lip in company for life. A noble forehead, made venerable by the +grey hairs above it—grey, although the baron was hardly in the vale of +years—completed the picture which presented itself to my eye, and which +I noted in detail in less time than I have drawn it here—imperfectly +enough. The baron, who had received my letter of introduction on the +preceding day, rose to welcome me. His first enquiries were concerning +my friend H——, the next were in reference to my own plans—and he had +much to say of the different professors of London, with whose works and +merits he appeared thoroughly acquainted. I remained an hour with him; +and, some time before we parted, I felt myself quite at home with my new +acquaintance. During the conversation that took place upon this +memorable morning, the name of Z—— occurred. The baron praised him +highly: "his attainments as a surgeon," he said, "were very great;" and, +in other respects, he looked upon him as one of the most original and +wisest men of the age. It will be remembered by my professional readers +that Z——, although esteemed in England one of her first surgeons, +acquired an unenviable notoriety through the publication of certain +physiological lectures, in which the doctrines of materialism and +infidelity were supported, it must be allowed, with all the eloquence +and power of a first-rate mind. With my own settled views of +Christianity, early inculcated by a beloved mother—now, alas! no +more—I could not but regard the highly gifted Z—— as an enemy to his +species, who had unhappily abused the talents which Providence had given +him for a better purpose. Such being the case, it was with some pain and +great surprise that I listened to the encomiums from the lips of the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_598" id="Page_598">[Pg 598]</a></span> +baron; and I ventured to hint that the speaker had, in all probability, +not heard of the infamous publication which had given so much sorrow and +alarm to all well-governed minds in England.</p> + +<p>"Le voilà!" said the baron in reply, taking up a book from the +table—"The noblest work of the age! Free from prejudice and bigotry of +every kind—I found my opinion of the man upon this book. Had he done +nothing else, he would have immortalized his name. Philosophy and +Science have hitherto borne him out in all his theories—will continue +to bear him out, and eventually compel posterity to regard him as +nothing short of the prophet and seer of nature. You may rely upon it, +Z—— has, by the very force of intellect, arrived at conclusions which +the discoveries of centuries will duly make good and establish."</p> + +<p>I speak the simple truth when I aver, that these words of the baron gave +me infinite distress, and for a moment deprived me of speech. I hardly +knew what to say or do. At first I suspected that I had made some +unaccountable mistake, and brought my letter to the wrong individual. +H——, who was almost a Puritan in religious matters, could ever have +spoken of his friend in such favourable terms, if he had been aware of +the views which he so unscrupulously supported. A little reflection, +however, convinced me that a mistake was impossible. There is nothing in +this world more embarrassing than to sit in the presence of a superior, +and be compelled to listen to statements which you feel to be false, and +yet know not how with propriety to repel. My own youth, and the baron's +profound learning and attainments, were barriers to the free expression +of my thoughts; and yet I was ashamed to remain silent, and, as it were, +a consenting party to the utterance of sentiments which I abhorred.</p> + +<p>"I cannot hope," I managed to say at last, "that science will ultimately +uphold his arguments, and prevent our relying as strongly as ever on our +old foundations."</p> + +<p>"And why?" replied the baron quickly. "Why should we always be timid and +blind followers of the blind? Is it a test of wisdom to believe what is +opposed to reason upon the partial evidence of doubtful witnesses? Is it +weakness to engage all the faculties of the mind in the investigation of +the laws by which this universe is governed? And if the perception of +such immutable add eternal laws crushes and brings to nothing the fables +of men whom you are pleased to call <i>writers by inspiration</i>, are we to +reject them because our mothers and fathers, who were babes and +sucklings at the breast of knowledge, were ignorant of their existence?"</p> + +<p>"Newton, sir," I ventured to answer, "made great discoveries, and he +revered these fables."</p> + +<p>"Bah! Newton directed his gaze upwards into a mighty and stupendous +region, and he was awe-stricken—as who shall not be?—by what he there +beheld. He worshipped the unseen power, so does this man; he believed in +Revelation, so does he; but with him—it is the revelation which is made +in that wondrous firmament above, and in the earth beneath, and in the +glories that surround us. What knowledge had Newton of geology? what of +chemistry? what of the facts which they have brought to light?"</p> + +<p>"Little perhaps—yet"——</p> + +<p>"My good friend," continued the surgeon, interrupting me. "In the days +of your grand <i>philosophe</i>—would that he were alive now!—there were no +physical phenomena to reduce an ancient system of cosmogony to a mere +absurdity—no palpable evidences of the existence of this earth +thousands of years prior to its formation—you perceive?"</p> + +<p>"I hear you, sir," I answered, gaining courage; "but I should, indeed, +be sorry to adopt your views."</p> + +<p>"Of course you would!" said the baron, curling his inauspicious lip, +and giving expression to a feeling that looked very like one of contempt +or ridicule. "You come from the land of melancholy and bile—where your +holidays are fasts, and your day of rest is one of unmitigated toil. You +would be sorry to forego, no doubt, the prospect of everlasting torture +and eternal condemnation. Mr Z—— is too far advanced for you, I am +afraid."</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_599" id="Page_599">[Pg 599]</a></span></p> + +<p>At this moment there was a knock at the door leading into the +bed-chamber. The servant-man of the baron presented himself, and +announced a patient.</p> + +<p>"Admit him," said the surgeon, and at the same time I rose to depart.</p> + +<p>"Adieu!" said the baron with another unpleasant smile; "we shall be very +good friends notwithstanding your piety. I shall look after you. +Remember six o'clock to-morrow morning at the Hotel Dieu. Be punctual, +and do you hear, Mr Walpole, think of me in your prayers."</p> + +<p>This last expression, accompanied as it was by a very significant look, +amounted to a positive insult, and I quitted the library and house of +the baron, fully resolved never to set foot in either of them again. +What an extraordinary delusion did poor H——labour under, in respect of +the character of his friend! Here was a Mentor to form the opinions and +regulate the conduct of a young gentleman stepping into life! Great as +were his talents and acquirements, and much as I might lose by +neglecting to cultivate his friendship, I resigned gladly every +advantage rather than purchase the greatest, with the sacrifice of the +principles which had been so anxiously implanted in my bosom, even from +my cradle. I was hurt and vexed at the result of my interview. Every +thing had promised so well at first. I had been won by the appearance of +the baron, I had been charmed with his discourse, and gratified by the +terms in which he spoke of my future studies, and the help he hoped to +afford me in the prosecution of them. Why had this unfortunate Mr Z——, +and his still more unfortunate book, turned up to discompose the +pleasant vision? But for the mention of his name, and the introduction +of his book, I might have remained for ever in ignorance of the +atheistical opinions which, in my estimation, derogated materially from +the grace which otherwise adorned the teacher's cultivated mind. It is +impossible for communion and hearty fellowship to subsist between +individuals, whose notions on life's most important point lie "far as +the poles asunder." I did not expect, desire, or propose to seek that +they should.</p> + +<p>In the evening I joined M'Linnie at his lodgings, and gave him an +account of the meeting.—He laughed at me for my scruples.</p> + +<p>"I knew all about it," said Mac, "but hardly thought it worth while to +let you know it. H—— was quite right, too: the baron is not the man +to-day that he was a dozen years ago. He is a rank infidel now; he makes +no secret of the thing, but boasts of it right and left: it is his great +fault. He is an inconsistent fellow. If any one talks about religion, no +matter how proper and fitting the time, he is down upon him at once with +a sneer and a joke; and yet he drags in his own opinions by the neck, at +all seasons, on all occasions, and expects you to say <i>amen</i> to every +syllable he utters."</p> + +<p>"He must be very weak," said I.</p> + +<p>"Must he?—very well. Then wait till you see him cut for <i>calculus</i>, or +perform for <i>hernia</i>. Sit with him at the bedside, and hear him at his +lectures. If you think him weak then, you shall be good enough to tell +me what you call <i>strong</i>.</p> + +<p>"But his principles"——</p> + +<p>"Are certainly not in accordance with the Thirty-nine Articles; but the +baron does not profess to teach theology—nor did I come here to take +his creed. So long as he is orthodox in surgery, I make no complaint +against him. I have my own views; and if they are relaxed and out of +order now and then, why, the parson is the man to apply to, and not the +baron. I must say one requires a dose of steel now and then, to keep +right and tight in this bewitching capital."</p> + +<p>There was worldly wisdom in the remarks of M'Linnie; and before I +quitted him I was satisfied of the propriety of paying every attention +to the professional instruction of the surgeon, without committing +myself, by visiting him as a friend, to an approval of his detestable +principles; and accordingly, at two minutes to six o'clock, I presented +myself at the hospital on the following morning. Many students were +already in attendance, and precisely at six o'clock the baron himself +appeared. He bowed to the students as a body and honoured me with a +particular notice.</p> + +<p>"Eh bien, jeune Chrêtien!" he said, shaking me by the hand, "have you +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_600" id="Page_600">[Pg 600]</a></span> +prayed for my reformation? It is very remiss of you if you have not done +so. You know I made you yesterday my father confessor."</p> + +<p>There was immediately a general laugh from the students—medical +students being, it should be known, the most unblushing parasites on +record.</p> + +<p>These words were spoken under the low portico of the building which +forms, with its long ascent of steps, one side of the square in which +the Cathedral of Notre Dame has its principal entrance, and is certainly +not one of the least interesting adjuncts of that magnificent edifice. +We passed without further speech through the range of buildings within, +the professor in our van, and in a minute or two found ourselves in a +spacious, clean, and well-filled ward.</p> + +<p>The surgeon took his seat at the foot of the first bed in the sick +chamber, and the students crowded eagerly around him, evidently anxious +not to lose a syllable that should fall from his lips. I shall never +forget the lesson of that morning. The judgment, the penetration, the +unflinching collectedness, and consummate skill of the surgeon, +compelled my warmest admiration. I forgot our ground of disagreement in +the transcendent ability that I beheld. His heart, and mind, and soul, +were given up to his profession, and his success was adequate to the +price paid for its purchase. The baron was, however, a mass of +contradiction. I discovered this before we had been an hour in the ward. +It was clear that he had risen by the sheer strength of great natural +genius, and that he was lamentably wanting in all the agreeable +qualities which spring from early cultivation and sound training. He was +violent, sudden, and irregular in his temper and mode of speaking—when +his temper and speech were directed against any but his patients. He had +no regard to the feelings of men of his own rank; and his language +towards them was rather emphatic, than delicate or well chosen. In his +progress round the ward, he came to the bed of a man suffering from a +diseased leg. He removed the bandage from the part, and asked, "what +fool had tied it up so clumsily;" <i>the fool</i>, as he well knew, being the +house surgeon at his side. Again, another practitioner at the hospital +had recommended a particular treatment in a particular case. This +gentleman, the baron's colleague, was referred to as—"a child who had +yet to learn the alphabet of surgery—who would have been laughed at, +twenty years ago, had he prescribed such antiquated nostrums—a weak +child—a mere baby, gentlemen."——"How much," I exclaimed mentally, +time after time, "must this man have altered since H—— parted with him +as his respected friend!" And yet in some regards he was not altered at +all. There was the same consideration for the poor sufferers—the same +attention to their many complaints and wants—the same tenderness and +kind disposition to humour and pacify them, which H—— had dwelt upon +with so much commendation. There was no hurrying from case to case—no +sign of impatience at the reiterated unmeaning queries of the +patients—no coarse jest at <i>their</i> expense—not a syllable that could +wound the susceptibility of the most sensitive. Did one poor fellow +betray an anxiety to take up as little of the baron's time as possible, +and, speaking hurriedly, almost exhaust his little stock of feeble +breath, it was absolutely touching to mark the happy mode in which the +surgeon put the flurried one at ease. Had these creatures, paupers as +they were, been rich and noble—had they, strangers as they were, been +brothers every one, he could not have evinced a tenderer interest on +their behalf—a stronger disposition to do them service. In spite of +myself, I loved the baron for his condescending to these men of low +estate.</p> + +<p>It will not be necessary to dwell upon the proceedings of the place: I +could extract from my note-book pages that would delight the medical +reader, necessarily dry and tedious to the uninitiated. Suffice it to +say, that many hours were spent in the surgical wards by this +indefatigable surgeon: every individual case received his best +attention, and was prescribed for as carefully as though a noble fee +waited upon each. The ceremony being at an end, I was about to retire, +agreeably surprised and gratified with all that I had seen.</p> + +<p>"Arrêtez donc," said the baron, noticing my movement, and touching me +upon the arm. "You are not fatigued?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_601" id="Page_601">[Pg 601]</a></span></p> +<p>"Not in the least," I answered.</p> + +<p>"Come with me, then."</p> + +<p>The baron, full of life and spirits, and with the air of a man whose +day's work was only about to commence, bowed to the students, and +tripped quickly down stairs. I followed as commanded, and the next +moment I was in the baron's cabriolet, driving with that gentleman +rapidly through the streets of Paris.</p> + +<p>"Have you courage?" enquired the baron suddenly.</p> + +<p>"For what, sir?" I replied.</p> + +<p>"To see an operation."</p> + +<p>"I have been present at many, sir," said I—"some bad enough, too; and, +I confess, I have been less womanish and weak beholding them than I felt +this morning, witnessing your kindness to those poor creatures."</p> + +<p>"Ah, poor creatures, indeed!" repeated the baron in a softer tone than +any I had heard him use. "The poor need kindness, Mr Walpole. It is all +we can do for them. God help them! it is little of that they get. +Poverty is a frightful thing, sir."</p> + +<p>There were two circumstances that especially struck me in the delivery +of this short speech. One was, that the eyes of an intrepid operator +filled with tears whilst he adverted to a very commonplace subject; the +other, that a confirmed atheist was inconsistent enough to invoke the +Deity whose very existence he denied.</p> + +<p>We drove on, and arrived at the hotel of one of the richest and most +influential noblemen of France. The cabriolet stopped, and the gates of +the hotel were thrown open at the same instant. A lackey, in the hall of +the mansion, was already waiting for the baron, and we were bowed with +much ceremony up the gilded staircase; we reached at last a sumptuously +furnished chamber, where we found three gentlemen in earnest +conversation. They were silent upon our entrance, and advanced, one and +all, with great cordiality to greet the baron. The latter returned their +salute with a distant and haughty politeness, which I thought very +unbecoming.</p> + +<p>"We were thinking"—— began one of the party.</p> + +<p>"How is the patient?" asked the baron, suddenly interrupting him.</p> + +<p>The other shook his head despondingly, and the baron, as it were +instinctively, unlocked a case of instruments, which he had brought into +the room with him from his cabriolet.</p> + +<p>"The inflammation has not subsided, then?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"All the symptoms as before?"</p> + +<p>"All."</p> + +<p>"Let us see him."</p> + +<p>The gentleman and the baron opened a door and passed into another room. +As the door closed after them, I heard a loud and dismal groan. One of +the two remaining gentlemen then asked me if I had been long in Paris.</p> + +<p>I told him.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you haven't seen the new opera, then?" said he—just as we should +say, when put to it for conversation—What frightful, or what beautiful +weather this is! Before I could reply, there was another fearful groan +from the adjoining room, but my new acquaintance proceeded without +noticing it.</p> + +<p>"You have nothing like our <i>Académie</i> in London, I believe?"</p> + +<p>I was about to vindicate the Italian Opera, when the two surgeons again +appeared. The baron in a few words said, that there was nothing to be +done but to operate, and at once, if the life of the patient were to be +spared at all. The three practitioners—for such they were—bowed in +acquiescence, and the baron prepared his instruments.</p> + +<p>It is the fashion to speak of medical men slightingly, if not +reproachfully; to accuse them of practising solemn impositions, and of +being, at the best, but so many legalized charlatans. It is especially +the mode of speaking amongst those who will give "the doctor" no rest, +and are not satisfied until they make that functionary the most constant +visitor at their abodes. No one would have dared to breathe one syllable +of disrespect against the surgeon's sacred office, who could have seen +as I did, the operation which the baron performed this day. It has been +done successfully three times within the memory of man; twice by +himself, who first attempted it. It was grand to mark his calm and +intellectual face—to see the hand—armed with the knife that cut for +life or death—firm and unshaken as the mind that urged, the eye that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_602" id="Page_602">[Pg 602]</a></span> +followed, its unerring course. I could understand the worship that was +paid to this incomparable master, by all that knew his power. Within +five minutes by the clock, and in the sight of men whose breathless +admiration made them oblivious of the throes of the poor sufferer, the +process was completed, and the endangered life restored. The baron left +the fainting invalid, retired for a few seconds, and prescribed. He +returned and felt his pulse—and then, turning to the man with whom he +had first spoken, said—</p> + +<p>"Should any thing arise, sir, you will acquaint me with it."</p> + +<p>"Unquestionably. He will do well?"</p> + +<p>"No doubt of it. Good-morning."</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, baron," said the gentleman obsequiously. "His excellency +bore it wonderfully."</p> + +<p>"Pretty well for an excellency. We don't notice these things in +paupers—Now, Mr Walpole."</p> + +<p>And thereupon the baron turned upon his heels with such manifest +disdain, that he lost half the credit which he had gained by his +previous performance.</p> + +<p>We sat for some time silent in the cabriolet. I was bursting to praise +the baron, and yet fearful to speak, lest I should be insulted for my +pains. At last, I became so excited that I could hold out no longer.</p> + +<p>"Baron," said I, "I beg your pardon—it was the grandest thing I ever +saw."</p> + +<p>"I have seen a grander," said the surgeon frowning, and pursing those +unhappy lips of his again, "much grander, Mr Walpole. I have seen a +nobleman rolling in riches, flattered by his dogs, renowned for his +Christian piety, refusing the supplications of a poor boy, who asked +only for a few coins to carry him through a cold and killing winter. The +refusal might have been the lad's death—but he was refused. It was, as +you say, a grand thing, but the lad has had his revenge to-day."</p> + +<p>The baron drove to his own home. At his request I entered his library +with him. He placed some books in my hand, which he believed would be of +service to me; and, as we parted, he said kindly—</p> + +<p>"Don't mind my rough ways, Mr Walpole; I was educated in a rough school. +I shall be glad to see you often. I have been disturbed. The father of +that man, whose life, I verily believe, I have saved this day, hunted me +many years ago from his door when I begged from him—condescended to beg +from him—alms which his meanest servant would not have missed, and +which I wanted, to save me from absolute starvation. I have never +forgotten or forgiven him for the act—but I have had my revenge. The +great man's son owes his life to the beggar after all. A good revenge, +<i>n'est ce pas</i>?"</p> + +<p>I was very much disposed to consider the baron subject to fits of +temporary derangement; but I was wise enough to do nothing more than nod +my head in answer to this appeal, leaving my questioner to interpret the +action as he in his madness might think proper.</p> + +<p>There was a hearty shake of the hand, another general invitation to his +house, and a particular invitation to the hospital, where, as the baron +very reasonably observed, "All the knowledge that could serve a man in +after life was hoarded up"—and then I made my bow and took my +departure.</p> + +<p>Three months passed like so many days, in the midst of occupation at +once the most inspiriting and satisfactory; and during the whole of that +period, I am bound to acknowledge the treatment of the baron towards me +to have been most generous and kind. In spite of my own resolutions, I +had attached myself to the professor by a feeling of gratitude, which it +was not easy to extinguish or control. His wish to advance me in the +knowledge and understanding of my profession was so earnest, the pains +he took to communicate the most important results of his own hard-earned +experience so untiring, that, had I not felt a heavy debt of +obligation, I must have been a senseless undeserving wretch indeed. The +baron was manifestly well-disposed towards me, and in spite (it might +have been with so strange a character, by very reason) of our religious +differences, he lost no opportunity of bringing me to his side, and of +loading me whilst there with precious gifts. I attended the professor at +the hospital, at the houses of his patients, in his own private study. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_603" id="Page_603">[Pg 603]</a></span> +He was flattering enough to say that he liked to have me about him—that +he was pleased with my straightforward character—and with the +earnestness with which I worked. I trust it was not his good opinion +alone that induced me, in opposition to my first resolution, by degrees +to associate with the baron, until at length we became intimate and +almost inseparable friends. I would not acknowledge this to my own +conscience, which happily never suffered me to violate a principle, or +yield an inch of righteous ground. The baron persevered in his attacks +upon our sacred religion. I, grown bolder by long familiar acquaintance, +acted as firmly upon the defensive: and I must do myself the justice to +assert, that the soundness of fair argument suffered no injury from the +light weapons of wit and ridicule which my friend had ever at command.</p> + +<p>It was a fine morning in the early spring, and I sat with the baron as +usual in his library. On this occasion I was helping him in the +completion of a series of plates, which he was about to publish, in +connexion with a work on cancer—a book that has since made a great +sensation upon the Continent. The engraver had worked from the +professor's preparations under the eye of the latter; but a few slight +inaccuracies had crept into the drawings, and the baron employed me in +the detection of them. We were both fully occupied; I with the +engravings; he with his lecture of the day—and we were both very +silent, when we heard a loud ringing of the porter's bell. The baron at +the same time looked at his watch, and resumed his pen. A note was then +brought to him by his servant. It was read, and an answer given.</p> + +<p>"Say I will be there at four o'clock."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, sir," said the servant, "but the prince's chasseur +who gave me the note, desired me to add that the prince wished to see +you immediately."</p> + +<p>"Very well, sir," answered the baron haughtily. "He has delivered his +master's message—do you deliver mine. I am busy, very busy—and cannot +see the prince till four o'clock. That is the answer."</p> + +<p>The servant knew his master, and left the room immediately.</p> + +<p>"These insufferable nobles!" exclaimed the baron; "they imagine that +mankind was invented for their pleasure and amusement—to be their +footballs. Does this man think we have nothing better to do than to +humour his fancies, and attend to every ailment that waits upon his +gross appetite. He makes a god of his belly, is punished for his +idolatry, and then whines by the hour to his doctor."</p> + +<p>"Is he not ill, then?" I enquired.</p> + +<p>"He may be—but that is no reason why my students are to be neglected +for a prince. He must come in his turn, with all the rest. I allow no +distinctions in my practice. Suffering is suffering—the pain of the +peasant is as acute as the smart of the king. Proceed with the drawings, +Mr Walpole."</p> + +<p>In less than a quarter of an hour, there was a fresh disturbance. The +servant knocked softly at the door, and entered timidly.</p> + +<p>"Here is a dirty woman at the gate, sir," began the man. "I have told +her that you were engaged and couldn't speak to her, but she would not +move until I had brought you this letter. She is a dirty creature, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, you have said that once before," answered the baron taking the +note—if a soiled strip of paper, with blots, erasures, and illegible +characters may deserve that title. The baron endeavoured to read it; but +failing, requested François to show the poor woman up.</p> + +<p>She appeared, and justified the repetition of François. She was indeed +very far from being clean; she had scarcely a rag upon her back—and +seemed, in every way, much distressed.</p> + +<p>"Now, my good woman," said the professor very tenderly, "tell me what +it is you want, as quickly as you are able to do it, and I will help you +if it be in my power."</p> + +<p>The woman, bursting into tears, proceeded to say that "she resided in +the Quartier St Jacques—that her husband was a water-carrier."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_604" id="Page_604">[Pg 604]</a></span></p> + +<p>"A what?" asked the professor quickly, as if he had missed the word.</p> + +<p>"A water-carrier, sir."</p> + +<p>"Go on."</p> + +<p>That he had come from Auvergne—had fallen into a dreadful state of +disease through want of nourishment and fuel during the winter—that he +was now lying without a crust of bread or a particle of fire—and that +she was sure he must die, leaving her and her children to be thrown into +the world. She filled up her short narrative with many harrowing +details, and finished by imploring the surgeon to come and save her +husband if he could. "We will pay you, sir, all that we are able—if he +gets to work again: and if he shouldn't, God, I am sure, will not listen +to your prayers the less because you have helped the unfortunate and the +poor."</p> + +<p>Before the woman had told her story, the cheeks of the baron were as +pale as her own—his eyes scarcely less moist. He had put his hand to +his pocket, and when the woman ceased—he drew it out again, and +presented her with a crown-piece.</p> + +<p>"Go home," said he "with that. Buy bread and fuel. I will be at your +lodging this afternoon."</p> + +<p>The woman was about to exclaim.</p> + +<p>"Not a syllable!" said her benefactor, preventing her. "If you thank me, +I will do nothing for you. Go your ways now. I cannot accompany you—for +you see I am very busy; but before the day is out, I will prescribe for +your goodman.—Good-by to you—good-by."</p> + +<p>The woman went away without another word.</p> + +<p>Before she reached the bottom of the stairs, the baron spoke.</p> + +<p>"Mr Walpole—pray be kind enough to call her back!"</p> + +<p>She came.</p> + +<p>"You must not think me harsh now," proceeded the baron, by way of +apology, "I did not wish to be so. I shall do all I can for you, and +your husband will no doubt be soon quite well again. There, keep your +spirits up, and go home and cheer the good fellow. I shall see you +by-and-by—<i>Adieu, ma chère</i>."</p> + +<p>The professor continued his lecture; but not for five minutes before he +appeared to be very uneasy at his work. He put his pen down, and sat for +a time full of thought; then he rose and paced the room, and then took +up his pen again; at last, he started from his chair and pulled the +bell.</p> + +<p>"François," said he to the servant, "let the cabriolet be here +immediately. Yes," he continued, as if speaking to himself, "it will be +better to go at once; the man may be seriously ill. His life may be in +danger. It can be done in an hour—there is plenty of time still for the +lecture. We must go and see this poor fellow, Mr Walpole," added the +professor, addressing me. "Come, you shall give me your opinion of the +case."</p> + +<p>And the lecture and the engravings were neglected, and we dashed through +the streets towards the Quartier St Jacques, with every chance of +breaking our own necks as well as that of the spirited animal that flew +before the whip of the excited practitioner.</p> + +<p>"Well," said I to myself as we alighted, "it may be, Monsieur le Baron, +as you state it, '<i>the pain of the peasant is as acute as the smart of a +king</i>.' It is, however, very certain that you do not hold to the +converse of the proposition."</p> + +<p>The water-carrier was in truth alarmingly ill, and he was not likely to +remain so much longer, if left to himself; for it was already the +eleventh hour with him. He was living in a filthy hole—lying on a bed +of straw, without the commonest necessaries of life. The man had become +diseased through want and confinement—that cause and origin of half the +complaints to which the human frame is subject; lack of wholesome food +and pure air. The baron perceived instantly that nothing could be done +for the unhappy fellow in his present abode, and he therefore insisted +upon his being removed at once to a <i>maison de santé</i>.</p> + +<p>"I can't walk," said the man gruffly.</p> + +<p>"No, but you can be carried in a coach, I suppose," replied the baron in +a similar tone, "if I wish it." "Let him be dressed," he continued, +turning to the wife. "I will send a coach for him in half an hour—and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_605" id="Page_605">[Pg 605]</a></span> +take charge of him until he is better. That will buy you some bread for +the present," and he gave another crown and hastened away. In the +afternoon the baron attended the patient again at the <i>maison de santé</i>. +He ordered him a bath, and prescribed medicines. For a month he visited +him daily; and he did not quit him until he was convalescent. Nor +then—for upon the day of the poor fellow's discharge, he presented him +with a horse and water-cart, and a purse containing five louis-d'or.</p> + +<p>"Take care of the money," said the charitable donor, "do not be +extravagant. If you are ill—come to me always."</p> + +<p>The water-carrier—a bluff, sturdy fellow in his way—would have thanked +the baron could he have kept quiet; but he stood roaring like a child, +perfectly overcome with the kindness he had received. It was some months +afterwards that François announced two visitors. When they appeared, I +recognised my old acquaintance the water-carrier, grown hale and hearty, +accompanied by a stranger, of the same condition in life as himself, and +looking very ill.</p> + +<p>"<i>Ah, mon ami</i>!" exclaimed the baron, shaking him by the hand, "how does +the world use you?"</p> + +<p>"Look at me," answered the carrier—"just look at me."</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay," said the baron. "Flesh enough upon you now! Who is your +friend?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, it's about him I came! He is very ill, isn't he? He is a +water-carrier, too. He was going to another doctor, but I wouldn't allow +it. No, no—that wouldn't have been the thing after all you have done +for me. I hope I know better. He is very bad, and hasn't got a sixpence +in the world."</p> + +<p>I could not help smiling, at this original display of gratitude—and the +baron laughed outright; his heart grew glad within him as he answered, +pressing the honest carrier's hardy hand—</p> + +<p>"Right—right—quite right! <i>Mon enfant</i>, bring them all to me!"</p> + +<p>M'Linnie, who was not honoured by the baron's confidence, seemed to be +well acquainted with his peculiarities. I mentioned to him his +extraordinary treatment of the water-carriers, and attributed it all, +without hesitation, to downright insanity.</p> + +<p>"Not that exactly," said Mac. "It is caprice, and the inconsistency of +human nature. He is strongly attached to all <i>Auvergnats</i>, and to +water-carriers in particular. His predilection that way is well known in +Paris. Perhaps his father was a water-carrier—or his first love a girl +from Auvergne. Who can tell what gave rise to the partiality in a mind +that is full of bias and contradiction!"</p> + +<p>Contradiction indeed! I had remarked enough, and yet nothing at all in +comparison with that which was to follow. Up to the present time I had +been only puzzled and amused by the frolics and irregularities of the +baron. I had yet to be staggered and confounded by the most palpable and +barefaced act of inconsistency that ever lunatic conceived and executed. +The winter and spring had passed, and summer came, placing our time more +at our disposal. Summer is the dissector's long vacation. I permitted +myself to take recreation, and to seek amusement in the many public +resorts of this interesting capital. One morning I attended the baron at +the hospital, and returned with him to his abode. We sat together for an +hour, and I distinctly remember that on this occasion the unbeliever was +even more witty than usual on the subject which he was ever ready to +introduce, with, I am sorry to say, no better object than that of +turning it into ridicule and contempt. I left him, irritated and annoyed +at his behaviour, and tried to forget it in the crowds of people who +were thronging the gay streets on one of the gayest mornings of the +year. I hardly know why I directed my steps towards the <i>Place St +Sulpice</i>, or why, having reached it, I lingered, gazing at the church +which has its site there. I had a better reason for quitting it with +precipitation; for whilst I stood musing, I became suddenly aware of the +presence of my friend the baron. He did not see me, and I was not +anxious to begin <i>de novo</i> the disagreeable discussion of the morning. +As I turned away from the church, however, I looked instinctively back, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_606" id="Page_606">[Pg 606]</a></span> +and was much surprised to behold the baron glancing very suspiciously +about him, and appearing most anxious to avoid public observation. I was +mentally debating whether such was really the fact, or whether the idea +was suggested by my own clandestine movement, when to my unaffected +astonishment the baron put an end to all doubt by making one rapid march +towards the church, and then rushing in—looking neither to the right +nor left—behind nor before him. This was truly too extraordinary a +circumstance to witness without further enquiry. I immediately retraced +my steps, and followed the atheist into the house, where surely <i>he</i> +could have no lawful business to transact. If my surprise had been great +without the sacred edifice, what was it within, and at that particular +portion of it known by the designation of <i>the Chapel of the Virgin +Mary</i>, at which I beheld, questioning my own senses, my unaccountable +friend, this exceedingly erratic baron—upon his knees—in solemn +prayer! Yes, kneeling in low humility, and praying audibly, with a +devotion and an awful earnestness that could not be surpassed. He +remained upon his knees, and he persevered in his prayers until the +conclusion of the service, and then he bestowed his alms—performing all +things with an expression of countenance and gravity of demeanour, such +as I knew him to wear only at the table upon which he had achieved the +most celebrated of his surgical victories.</p> + +<p>"Mad, mad!" I exclaimed aloud, "nothing short of it." Why, such glaring +wholesale hypocrisy had not been committed since Satan first introduced +the vice into Paradise. What atrocity, what barefaced blasphemy! It was +the part of a Christian and a friend to attribute the extravagant +proceedings of the baron to absolute insanity, and to nothing else; and +I did so accordingly, alarmed for the safety of the unfortunate +professor, and marvelling what unheard-of act would next be perpetrated, +rendering it incumbent upon society to lock the lunatic up for life. +Why, his lips were hardly relieved of the pollution which had fallen +from them in my presence; and could he in his senses, with his reason +not unhinged, dare to offend his Maker doubly by the mockery of such +prayers as <i>he</i> could offer up! What was his motive—what his end? That +he was anxious for concealment was evident. Had he courted observation, +I might have supposed him actuated by some far-sighted scheme of policy; +and yet his rash and straightforward temperament rendered him incapable +of any stratagem whatever. No, no—look at the thing as I would, there +was no accounting for this most perplexing anomaly except on the ground +of mental infirmity. Alas, poor baron!</p> + +<p>When the service was at an end, I took up a position in the street near +the church, in order to observe the next movement of the devotee, quite +prepared for any thing that might happen. I was disappointed. The baron, +looking very cheerful and very happy, made his appearance from the +temple which he had so recently profaned, and walked steadily and +quietly away. I followed him, and in the excitement of the moment was +about to approach and accost him, when he suddenly turned into a narrow +lane, and I lost sight of him.</p> + +<p>Before I saw the baron again, I had made up my mind to keep my own +counsel, and to give him no hint of my having discovered and watched +him. The reasons for silence were twofold. First, I hoped, by keeping my +eye upon the professor, to learn more of his character than I yet knew; +and, in the second place, I did not wish to be regarded as a spy by an +individual of violent passions, whom I could not conscientiously +consider responsible for his actions.</p> + +<p>It so happened that, on the evening of this very day, the baron held a +<i>conversazione</i> in his rooms, to which the first people of Paris, both +in rank and talent, were invited. I, who had the <i>entrée</i>, was present +of course, and I was likewise amongst the first of the arrivals. With +me, the chief physician of the Hotel Dieu entered the <i>salon</i>.</p> + +<p>The surgeon and the physician shook hands; and, after a word or two, the +latter asked abruptly—</p> + +<p>"By the way, baron, what were you doing at St Sulpice this morning? I +saw you quitting the church."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_607" id="Page_607">[Pg 607]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh!" said the baron, without changing colour or moving a muscle, +although I blushed at his side to my very forehead; "Oh! a sick priest, +placed under my care by the Duchess d'Angoulême—nothing more."</p> + +<p>"Well, I could hardly believe that you had turned saint—that is the +truth."</p> + +<p>"Not yet—not yet!" added the baron, laughing out. "This is to be the +saint," he continued, tapping me on the shoulders. "St Walpole! That +will look very fine in the calendar! However, my friend, if they attempt +to canonize you whilst I live, I'll act the part of devil's advocate, +and contest your right of admission, if it is only to punish you for +your opposition to me in this world. So take care of yourself, and read +up your divinity."</p> + +<p>And with these words the unmitigated hypocrite, chuckling at my apparent +confusion, advanced to the door, and welcomed his crowding visitors.</p> + +<p>Upon the following day I repaired to St Sulpice—but I did not see the +baron. I went again and again, with no better success. For a week I +attended the service daily—still no baron. Afterwards I went twice +a-week. At the end of two months I contented myself with one visit +weekly—still no baron. I did not like to give up the watch. I could not +tell <i>why</i> I felt sure of meeting with him again; yet so I felt, and I +was curious to know how far he carried his madness, and what object he +proposed to himself in the prosecution and indulgence of his monomania. +Three months elapsed, and I was at length paid for my perseverance. For +a second time I saw the baron enter the church—assist devoutly at the +celebration of mass at the chapel of the Virgin Mary—repeat his +prayers, and offer up his alms. There was the same solemnity of bearing +during the ceremony, the same cheerful self-possession at its +completion. A more methodical madness there could not be! I was +determined this time not to lose sight of my gentleman, without +obtaining at least a clue to his extraordinary behaviour. As soon as the +service as over, he prepared for his departure. Before he could quit the +church, however, I crossed it unperceived by him, and walked straight up +to the sacristan.</p> + +<p>"Who is that gentleman?" I asked, pointing to the surgeon.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur F——," he answered readily enough—so readily, that I hardly +knew what to ask next. "A regular attendant, sir," the sacristan +continued, in an impressive tone of approbation.</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" said I.</p> + +<p>"Ay. I have been here twelve years next Easter, and four times regularly +every year has monsieur come to hear this mass."</p> + +<p>"It is very strange!" I said, speaking to myself.</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said the sacristan. "It is very natural, seeing that he is +himself the <i>founder of it</i>!"</p> + +<p>Worse and worse! The inconsistency of the reviler of things sacred, was +becoming more barefaced and unpardonable. "Let him taunt me again!" I +exclaimed, walking homeward; "let him mock me for my weak and childish +notions, as he calls them, and attempt to be facetious at the expense of +all that is holy, and good, and consolatory in life. Let him attempt it, +and I will annihilate him with a word!" When, however, I grew more +collected, I began to understand how, by such proceeding, I might shoot +very wide of my mark, and give my friend an advantage after all. He had +explained his presence at the church to his colleague by attributing it +to a visit paid to a sick priest there. He should have no opportunity to +prevaricate if I once challenged him. Now, he might have the effrontery +to deny what I had seen with my own eyes, and could swear to. By lying +in wait for him again, and accosting him whilst he was in the very act +of perpetrating his solemn farce, I should deprive him of all power of +evasion and escape. And so I determined it should be.</p> + +<p>In the meanwhile I kept my own counsel, and we went on as usual. I +learned from the sacristan when the baron was next expected at the mass, +and, until that day, did not present myself again at the Place St +Sulpice. Before that time arrived, there arose a touching incident, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_608" id="Page_608">[Pg 608]</a></span> +which, as leading to important consequences, deserves especial notice.</p> + +<p>It was growing late one evening of this same summer—the surgeon was +fatigued with the labours of the day—I was on the point of leaving +him—he of retiring to rest, when François announced a stranger. An old +man appeared. He was short, and very thin; his cheeks were pale—his +hair hoary. Benignity beamed in his countenance, on which traces of +suffering lingered, not wholly effaced by piety and resignation. There +was an air of sweetness and repose about the venerable stranger, that at +the first sight gained your respect, if not regard. When he entered the +apartment he bowed with ceremony—and then waited timidly for +countenance from the baron.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter with you?" asked the surgeon roughly.</p> + +<p>"Allow me to be seated," said the stranger, drawing his breath with +difficulty, and speaking with a weak and tremulous voice. "I am very +tired."</p> + +<p>The baron, as if rebuked, rose instantly, and gave his visitor a chair.</p> + +<p>"I am very old," continued the latter, "and my poor legs are weary."</p> + +<p>"What ails you?"</p> + +<p>"Permit me," said the stranger. "I am the priest of a small village very +far from Paris."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" ejaculated the surgeon.</p> + +<p>"Two years ago I had a swelling in my neck, which the doctor of our +village thought of no importance; but it burst at last, and for a long +time I was kept to my bed a useless idle man. With four parishes and no +assistant; there lay a heavy weight upon my conscience—but God is good, +sir"——</p> + +<p>"Show me your throat!" exclaimed the baron, interrupting him.</p> + +<p>"And my people, too," proceeded the old man, preparing to obey the +surgeon's command—"my people were very considerate and kind. When I got +a little better, they offered, in order to lighten my labours, to come +to one church every Sunday. But it was not fair, sir. They are working +men, and have much to do, and Sunday is their only day of rest. It was +not right that so many should resign their comfort for the sake of one; +and I could not bear to think of it."</p> + +<p>All this was uttered with such perfect natural simplicity, that it was +impossible not to feel at once great interest in the statement of the +speaker. My attention was riveted. Not so the baron's, who answered with +more impatience than he had ever used towards the water-carriers—</p> + +<p>"Come to the point, sir."</p> + +<p>"I was coming, sir," replied the old priest mildly; "I trust I don't +fatigue you. Whilst I was in doubt as to what it was best to do, a +friend strongly recommended me to come to Paris, and to consult you. It +was a thing to consider, sir. A long journey, and a great expense! We +have many poor in our district, and it is not lawful to cast away money +that rightfully belongs to them. But, when I became reduced as you see +me, I could not regard the money as thrown away on such an errand; and +so I came. I arrived only an hour ago, and have not delayed an instant."</p> + +<p>The surgeon, affecting not to listen to the plaintive recital of the +priest, proceeded very carefully to examine his disease. It was an +alarming one; indeed, of so aggravated a character, that it was +astonishing to see the sufferer alive after all that he must have +undergone in its progress.</p> + +<p>"This disease must kill you," said the baron—brutally, I thought, +considering the present condition of the man, his distance from home, +friends, and all the natural ties that render calamity less frightful +and insupportable. I would gladly have said a word to soften the pain +which the baron had inflicted; but it would have been officious, and +might have given offence.</p> + +<p>The old priest, however, expressed no anxiety or regret upon hearing the +verdict pronounced against him. With a firm and quiet hand he replaced +the bandages, and he then drew a coarse bag from his pocket, from which +he extracted a five franc piece.</p> + +<p>"This is," he said calmly, "a very trifling fee, indeed, for the opinion +of so celebrated a surgeon; but, as I have told you, sir, the +necessities of my poor are great. I cannot afford to spend more upon +this worthless carcass. I an very grateful to you for your candour, sir. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_609" id="Page_609">[Pg 609]</a></span> +It will be my own fault now, if I die unprepared."</p> + +<p>"It is the profession of a priest," said the baron, "to affect stoicism. +You do not feel it."</p> + +<p>"I do not, sir," replied the man respectfully. "I did not hear the awful +truth you just now told me as a stoic would. Pardon me for saying, that +it might have been communicated less harshly and abruptly to a weak old +man; I do not wish to speak offensively."</p> + +<p>The baron blushed for shame.</p> + +<p>"I am a human being, sir," continued the priest, "and must feel as other +men. Death is a terrible abyss between earth and heaven; but the land is +not the less lovely beyond it."</p> + +<p>"You speak as you were taught?" said the baron.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And as you teach?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And you profess to feel all this?"</p> + +<p>"I profess to be a humble minister of Christ—imperfect enough, Heaven +knows, sir! I ask your pardon for complaining at your words. They did +not shock me very much. How should they, when I came expecting them? +Farewell, sir; I will return to Auvergne, and die in the midst of my +people."</p> + +<p>"Stay!" exclaimed the baron, touched and softened by the one magical +word. "Come back! I admire your calmness—I respect your powers of +endurance. Can you trust them to the end?"</p> + +<p>"I am frail, and very weak, sir," replied the priest. "I would bear much +to save my life. I do not wish to die. I have many things unfinished +yet."</p> + +<p>"Listen to me. There is but one means of saving you; and mark—that +perhaps may fail—a long, painful, and, it may be, unsuccessful +operation. Are you prepared to run the risk?"</p> + +<p>"Is there a chance, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—but a remote one. Were I the priest of Auvergne I would take that +chance."</p> + +<p>"It is enough, sir," said the old man. "Let it be done. I will undergo +it, with the help of God, as their pastor should, for the sake of my +dear children in Auvergne."</p> + +<p>The baron sat at his desk, and wrote a few lines—</p> + +<p>"Present this note," said he, "at the <i>Salle St Agnes</i> in the <i>Hotel +Dieu</i>. Go at once. The sisters there will take care that you want for +nothing. Take rest for a day or two, and I will see what afterwards may +be done for you."</p> + +<p>The priest thanked the baron many times for his kindness—bowed +respectfully, and retired. The free-thinking surgeon sat for a few +minutes after his departure, silent and thoughtful.</p> + +<p>"Happy man!" he exclaimed at last, sighing as the words escaped him.</p> + +<p>"Happy, sir?" said I enquiringly.</p> + +<p>"Yes! happy, Mr Walpole. False and fabulous as the system is on which he +builds, is he not to be envied for the faith that buoys him up so well +through the great sea of trouble, as your poet justly calls this +pitiable world! Could one <i>purchase</i> this all-powerful faith, what price +would be too dear for such an acquisition? Who would not give all that +he possesses here to grasp that hope and anchor?"</p> + +<p>"And yet, sir, you might have it. The gift is freely offered, and you +spurn it."</p> + +<p>"No such thing!" replied the surgeon hastily. "I may <span class='smcap'>not</span> have it. This +weak yet amiable priest is content to take for granted what every +rational mind rejects without fair proofs. He receives as a postulate +that which I must have demonstrated. I try to solve the problem, and the +first links of the argument lead to an absurdity."</p> + +<p>"The weak man, then, has reason to be thankful?" said I.</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay! I grant you that. He cannot tell how much!"</p> + +<p>"How differently, sir, do things appear to different men! The very +endurance of this old man, founded as it is upon his faith, is to me +proof sufficient of the truth and heavenly origin of that faith."</p> + +<p>"You talk, Mr Walpole, like a schoolboy, who knows nothing of religion +out of his catechism—and nothing of the world beyond his school walls. +If the ability to bear calamity with fortitude shall decide the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_610" id="Page_610">[Pg 610]</a></span> +genuineness of the creed, there is your North American Indian or Hindoo +nearer to truth and heaven than the Christian. So much for your '<i>proof +sufficient</i>' as you term it."</p> + +<p>This discussion, like all the rest, for all useful purposes ended as it +began, leaving us both just where it had found us—our tempers rather +than our views suffering in the conflict. Two or three times I was +tempted to rattle out a volley of indignation at his amazing and +unparalleled effrontery, and of calling him to account for his +turpitude; but my better judgment withheld me, bidding me reserve my +blows until they should fall unerringly and fatally upon his defenceless +head.</p> + +<p>In the meanwhile the good old priest carried his mild and resigned +spirit with him into the hospital. He was received with kindness, and +treated with especial care, chiefly on account of the recommendation of +the baron, who was interested in the unfortunate pastor to a greater +extent than he cared to acknowledge. The day for the +operation—postponed from time to time—at length arrived. It was +performed. The process was long and painful, but the patient never +uttered a complaint: his cries were wrung from him in the extremity of +torture and physical helplessness. The result was successful. One knew +not which to admire most—the Christian magnanimity of the patient, or +the triumphant skill of the operator: both were perfect. When the +anxious scene was over, the surgeon shook the priest by the hand +tenderly and encouragingly, and with his handkerchief wiped the +sweat-drops from his aged brow. He saw him afterwards carefully removed +to his bed, and for half an hour watched at his side, until, exhausted, +the sufferer fell to sleep. During the slow recovery of the invalid, +<i>his</i> bed was the first visited by the surgeon in his daily rounds. He +lingered there long after his services were needed, and listened with +the deepest attention to the accounts which the priest gave of his mode +of life, and of the condition of his dear flock, far away in Auvergne. +When at length the convalescent man was able to quit his bed, the baron, +to the surprise of all who knew him, would take him by the arm, and give +him his support, as the enfeebled creature walked slowly up and down the +ward. It was the feeling act of an affectionate son. Then the surgeon +made eager enquiries, which the priest as eagerly answered; and they +grew as friendly as though they had been well acquainted from their +infancy. Weeks passed away; the priest was at last discharged, cured; +and, with prayers mingling with tears of gratitude, he took leave of his +benefactor, and returned in joy to his native village.</p> + +<p>It was exactly a week after his departure, that the day arrived upon +which the sacristan led me to expect a meeting with the baron at the +church of Saint Sulpice. Resolved to confront this incarnation of +contradiction at the very scene of his unseemly vagaries, I did not fail +to be punctual. As I entered the street, I espied the baron a few yards +before me, walking briskly towards the entrance of the sacred building. +I followed him. He hurried into the church, and took his accustomed +place. I kept close upon him; and, with a fluttering heart, seated +myself at his side. My cheek burned with nervous agitation, but I did +not look towards my adversary. His eye, however, was upon me. I felt it, +and was sensible of his steady, long, and, as it seemed, passionless +gaze. He did not move, or betray any symptom of surprise. As on the +previous occasions, he proceeded solemnly to prayer; and when the +ceremony was completed, he, as usual, offered up his alms. As the +service drew to its close, my own anxiety became intense, and my +situation almost insupportable. He rose—I did the same;—he walked +leisurely away—I, giddy with excitement reeled after him. I was not to +be shaken from my purpose, and I accosted him on the church's threshold.</p> + +<p>"Baron!" I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Mr Walpole!" he replied, perfectly unmoved.</p> + +<p>"I am surprised to see you here, sir."</p> + +<p>"You are <span class='smcap'>not</span>," answered the baron, still most placidly; "you came +expressly to meet me; you have been here twice before. Why do you desire +to hide that fact? Can a Christian, Mr Walpole, play the hypocrite as +well as other men?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_611" id="Page_611">[Pg 611]</a></span></p> +<p>"I cannot understand you," I said, bewildered by his imperturbable +coolness; "you laugh at religion—you mock me for respecting it, and yet +you come here for prayer. You do not believe in God, and you assist +devoutly at mass!"</p> + +<p>"It is a lovely morning, Mr Walpole—we have half an hour to spare—give +me your arm!"</p> + +<p>Perfectly puzzled and confounded by the collected manner of the baron, I +placed my arm mechanically in his, and suffered him to conduct me +whethersoever he would. We walked in silence for some distance, passed +into the meanest quarter of the city, and reached a miserable and +squalid street. The baron pointed to the most wretched house in the +lane, and bade me direct my eye especially to its sixth story.</p> + +<p>"Mark it well," said he, "you see a window there to which a line is +fixed with recently washed linen?"</p> + +<p>"I do," I answered.</p> + +<p>"In the room—the small close hole to which that window hardly brings +air and light, I passed months of my life. The mass at which you have +three times watched me, is connected with it, and with occurrences that +had their rise there. I was the occupant of that garret—it seems but +yesterday since I wanted bread there."</p> + +<p>The surgeon was unmanned. He kept his eye upon the melancholy window +until emotion blinded it, and permitted him to see no longer. He stood +transfixed for a second or two, and then spoke quickly.</p> + +<p>"Mr Walpole, poverty is horrible! I have courage for any extremity but +that. Pain I have borne—shrieks and moans I have listened to unmoved, +whilst I stood by labouring to remove them; but when I recall the +moments in which I have languished for a crust of bread, and known +mankind to be my enemy—as though, being poor, I was a felon—all hearts +steeled against me—All hearts, did I say?" added the speaker suddenly +checking himself—"I lie; had it been so, I should not have been here to +tell the tale."</p> + +<p>The baron paused, and then resumed.</p> + +<p>"High as the rank is, Mr Walpole, to which I have attained; brilliant as +my career has been, and I acknowledge my success with gratitude—believe +me, there is not a famished wretch who crawls through the sinks of this +overgrown metropolis, that suffers more than I have suffered, has +bitterer hours than I have undergone. In this city of splendour and +corruption, at whose extremes are experienced the most exquisite +enjoyment and the most crushing and bitter endurance, I have passed +through trials which have before now overborne and killed the stoutest +hearts, and would have annihilated mine, but for the unselfish love of +him whose business took me to the church this day. Misery, in all its +aggravated forms, has been mine. Want of money—of necessary +clothing—hunger—thirst; such things have been familiar to me. In that +room, and in the depth of the hard winter, I have for hours given warmth +to my benumbed fingers with the breath which absolute want enabled me to +draw only with difficulty and pain."</p> + +<p>"Is it possible!" I involuntarily exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"You believe that human strength is unequal to such demands. It is +natural to think so; and yet I speak the truth. My parents, Mr Walpole, +humble and poor, but good and loving, sent me to Paris with all the +money they could afford for my education. I was ambitious, and deemed it +more than enough for my purpose. When half my time was spent here, +unhappily for me both father and mother were carried off by a malignant +fever. It was heavy blow, and threatened my destruction; threatened it, +however, but for a moment. I had determined to arrive at eminence; and +when does the determination give way in the breast of him who feels and +knows his power equal to his aim? I had a brother, to whom I wrote, +telling him of my situation, and asking him for the loan of a few +louis-d'or until my studies were completed, when I promised to repay the +debt with interest. He sent me the quarter of the sum for which I had +begged, with a long cold letter of remonstrance, bidding me give up my +profession, and apply myself to the humbler pursuits of my family. I +returned to my brother both money and letter, and the day on which I did +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_612" id="Page_612">[Pg 612]</a></span> +so saw me without a meal. I had not a farthing in the world. Had not a +woman who lodged in a room below given me a crust of bread, I must have +committed crime to assuage the cries of nature. How I existed for days, +I no longer remember. But I remember well hearing of a rich nobleman, +renowned for his wealth and piety, and for all the virtues which the +world confers upon the possessor of vast estates. In a moment of +enthusiasm and mistaken reliance, I sat down and penned a petition to +this great personage. I spoke as an intellectual man to an intellectual +man; as one working his difficult way through obscurity and trouble to +usefulness and honour—and requiring only a few crumbs from the rich +man's table to be at ease, and happy at his toil. I begged in abject +humility for those crumbs, and received a lying and cold-blooded excuse +instead of them. I crouched at his gate with a spirit worn by anxiety +and apprehension, and his slaves hunted me away from it. You have passed +through that same gate with me; you were witness of my triumph at the +bedside of his child!"</p> + +<p>"You mean his excellency—the operation?"</p> + +<p>"I do."</p> + +<p>"How little the rich," said I, "know of the misery, the privations, +endured by those who in poverty acquire the knowledge that is to benefit +mankind so largely. How ignorant are they of their trials!"</p> + +<p>"If you would know of the ignorance, the folly, and the vice of the +rich," proceeded the baron, always at home upon this his favourite +subject, "you must listen to an endless tale. Ever willing and eager to +detract from the merits of the man of science, and to attribute to him +the assumption of powers beyond human grasp—and ever striving to drag +down the results of his long and patient study to the level of their own +brutish ignorance—they are made the sport, the tools, and playthings of +every charlatan and trickster, as they should be. You shall be +satisfied, Mr Walpole, when you see the men who treat you with scorn and +contumely, pulled like puppets by a wire, and made to dance to any tune +the piper listeth. Hope nothing from the rich."</p> + +<p>"And from the poor, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Every thing," said the baron, almost solemnly. "From their hearts shall +spring the gratitude that will cheer you in your course, and solace you +in your gloom. Fame, and the grateful attachment of my humble friends, +have furnished me with a victory which the gold of the king could not +purchase. But we forget Saint Sulpice. I am not a hypocrite, as you +judge me, Mr Walpole. Be witness yourself if my presence there this day +has proved me one. Refused and cast away by this nobleman, I had nothing +to do but to dispose for a trifle of a few articles of linen which were +still in my possession. I sold them for a song, and believing failure to +be impossible, still struggled on. In that room I dwelt, living for days +upon nothing richer than bread and water, and regarding my little money +with the agony of a miser, as every demand diminished the small store. +From morn till night I laboured. I almost passed my life amongst the +dead. Well was it for me, as it proved, that my necessities drove me to +the dead-house to forget hunger, and obtain eleemosynary warmth. +Dismissed at dusk from this temporary home, I returned to the garret for +my crust, and carried the book which I had borrowed to the common +passage of the house, from whose dim lamp I received the glimmer that +served me to read, and to sustain the incensed ambitious spirit that +would not quell within me. The days glanced by quicker than the +lightning. I could not read enough; I could not acquire knowledge +sufficient, in that brief interval of days, between the acquisition of +my little wealth and the spending of my last farthing. The miserable +moment came. I was literally penniless, and without the means of +realizing any thing. For a week I retained possession of my room through +the charity of my landlord, and I was furnished with two loaves by a +good fellow who lived in the same house, and who proffered his +assistance so kindly, so generously, and well, that I received his +benefaction only that I might not give him pain by a refusal. The second +week of charity had already begun, when, entering my cold and hapless +room in my return from the hospital, I was detained at the door by +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_613" id="Page_613">[Pg 613]</a></span> +hearing my name pronounced in a loud and angry tone. I listened with a +sickening earnestness and recognized the voice of my landlord and that +of the good neighbour in high discussion. Something had been said which +much offended the latter; for the words which I caught from him were +those of remonstrance and reproach.</p> + +<p>"'For shame, for shame!' said he, 'you have children of your own, and +they may need a friend one day. Think of them before you do so hard a +thing.'</p> + +<p>"'I do think of them,' replied the landlord sharply; 'and, that they +mayn't starve, I must keep my matters straight.'</p> + +<p>"'Give him another week or two. You will not feel it. I'll undertake to +<i>keep</i> him. It isn't much, Heaven knows! that I can do for him; but at a +pinch, man should make shift for man. Say you'll do it!'</p> + +<p>"'I have told you he must go. I do not say one thing and mean another.'</p> + +<p>"'Yes, you do, Lagarde,' continued the persevering lodger. 'You say your +prayers daily and tell Heaven how thankful you are for all it does for +you. Now, <i>that</i> you cannot mean, if you turn a helpless brother from +your doors, who must die of want if you and I desert him. Come, think +again of it. Recollect how the poor lad works—how he is striving and +striving day after day. He will do well at last, and pay us back for +all.'</p> + +<p>"There was no doubt as to the individual—the subject of this argument. +He stood listening to his doom, and far, far more grateful to the good +creature who pleaded his cause than distressed by the obstinacy which +pronounced his banishment. I was not kept long in suspense. I retreated +to my den, and sat down in gloomy despair. A loud knock at the door +roused me, and the indignant pride which possessed me melted at once +into humility and love when I beheld the faithful Sebastian—my +sympathizing neighbour.</p> + +<p>"'You are to go,' he said bluntly; 'you are to leave this house +to-morrow.'</p> + +<p>"'I know it,' I answered; 'I am prepared to go this instant.'</p> + +<p>"'And whither?'</p> + +<p>"'Into the street,' said I; 'any where—it matters not.'</p> + +<p>"'Oh yes! it matters much,' replied my visitor; 'it would not matter to +me, or to your landlord. We are but day-labourers, whom nobody would +miss. You have great things before you: you will do, if you are not +crushed on the way. I am sure of it, and you shall not be deserted.'</p> + +<p>"'What do you mean?' I asked.</p> + +<p>"'Listen to me. Don't be offended. I am a poor man, and an ignorant one; +but I respect learning, and feel for the distressed. You leave this +house to-morrow; so do I. You seem to have no friends; I am friendless +too. I am a foundling. I never knew either father or mother. I am a +water-carrier, and I come from Auvergne. That is my history. Why should +we not seek a lodging together? You don't regret leaving this place; no +more do I. I won't disturb you. You shall study as long as you like, and +have me to talk to when you are tired: that is—if it is quite +agreeable, and you won't be ashamed of me.'</p> + +<p>"'You know,' said I, 'that I am in a state of beggary.'</p> + +<p>"'I know,' he answered, 'that you are not flush of capital just now; but +I have a little in my pocket, and can work for more. If you are not too +proud to borrow a trifle from me now, I sha'n't be too proud to have it +back again when you get rich. Don't let me prate, for I am rough and +unhandy at it; but give me your hand like an honest man, and say, +"Sebastian, I will do as you wish me.'"</p> + +<p>"My heart glowed with a streaming fire, and I grasped the extended palm +of my preserver. 'Sebastian,' I exclaimed, 'I will do as you wish me. I +will do more. I will make you independent. I will slave to make you +happy. It can be done—I feel it can—and you may trust me.'</p> + +<p>"'You'll do your best, I know,' he answered; 'and you'll do wonders, or +I am much mistaken.'</p> + +<p>"Upon the following morning we wandered through the city, and before +nightfall obtained shelter. To this unselfish creature, and to the +sacrifices which he made for me, I owe every thing. We had been together +but a few days when he drew from me a statement of my position and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_614" id="Page_614">[Pg 614]</a></span> +future prospects—drew it with a delicacy and tenderness that looked +lovely indeed from beneath his ragged robes. Now this poor fellow, like +me—like all of us—had his ambition, and a darling object in the far +distance to attain. He had for months stinted himself of many comforts, +that he might add weekly to a sum which he had saved for the purchase of +a horse and water-cart. He was already master of a few hundred francs; +and his earnings, small as they were, permitted him to keep up the hope +which had supported him through many hardships. No sooner, however, did +he gather from my words the extent of my necessities, than he determined +to forego the dearest wish of his life in order to secure my advancement +and success. I remonstrated with him; but I might as well have spoken to +stone. He would not suffer me to speak; but threatened, if I refused +him, to throw his bag of savings without delay into the <i>Seine</i>. I +ceased to oppose him, accepted his noble offer, and vowed to devote +myself from that time forward to the raising up of my deliverer. The +money of Sebastian supplied me with books, enabled me to pass my +examinations. Be sure I did not slacken in my exertions. Idleness was +fraud while the sweat from the brow of the water-carrier poured so +freely for my sake. I revered him as a father, not before I had myself +become the object of his affections—the recipient of the love which he +had never been conscious of before, foundling that he was, and without +another human tie! He grew proud of me, prouder and prouder every day—I +must be well dressed—I must want for nothing; no, though he himself +wanted all things. He was assured of my future eminence, and this was +enough for him; and my spirit well responded to his own. I knew my +capacity; I felt my strength. I was aware of the ability that floated in +the world, and did not fear to bring my own amongst it. What could a +mind undertake from which mine would shrink? What application could be +demanded to which I was not equal—prepared—eager to submit? Where lay +my difficulty? I saw none: or if I did for an instant, it was +exterminated before the imperious resolution I had formed to exalt and +enrich my beloved and loving benefactor. Tender as a parent to me, this +incomparable man was at the same time diligent and attentive as a +domestic. He would permit me to do nothing to impede the easy and +natural course of study. He shamed me by his affectionate assiduity, but +silenced me ever by referring to the <i>Future</i>, when he looked, he +confessed, for a repayment for all his care and love. What could I say +of do in answer to this appeal? What but reiterate the vow which I had +taken, never to desert him, and to fight my way upwards that he might +share the glory he had earned. A day arrived when I was compelled for a +time to leave him; for I had been received as <i>interne</i> at the Hotel +Dieu. It was hard parting, especially for the poor water-carrier, who +dreaded losing sight of me for ever. I gave him an assurance of my +constancy; and consoled him by the information that another and last +examination yet awaited me, for which a certain sum of money would be +required. He promised to have it ready by the hour, and conjured me to +take all care of myself—and to learn to love religion; for I must tell +you, Sebastian was a pious man—a conscientious Christian.</p> + +<p>"Once at the hospital, I sought profitable employment, and obtained it. +In the course of a few months I had earned a sum—dearer, more valuable +to me than all I have since acquired. It was insignificant in itself, +but it purchased for my Sebastian his long wished-for treasure—the +horse and water-cart. I took it to him; and when I approached him, I had +not a word to say, for my grateful heart was in my throat strangling my +utterance. He threw his arms about my neck, cried, laughed, thanked, +scolded, blessed, and reproached me, all in the wildness and delirium of +his delight. 'Why did you do it?' said he, 'oh it was kind and loving +in you!—very kind and foolish—and wrong, and generous, and +extravagant—dear, good, naughty boy! I am very angry with you; but I +love you for it dearly. How you are getting on! I knew you would. I said +so from the first. You will do wonders—you will be rich at last. You +want no man's help—you have done it all yourself.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_615" id="Page_615">[Pg 615]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'No, Sebastian!' I exclaimed, 'you have done it for me.'</p> + +<p>"'Don't deceive me—don't flatter me,' he answered. 'I have been able to +do very little for you—not half what I wished. You would have been +great without me. I have looked upon you, and loved you as my own boy, +and all that was selfishness.'</p> + +<p>"We dined and spent the evening of the day together. Life has had no +hours like those before or since. They were real, fresh, +substantial—such as youth remembers vividly when death and suffering +have shaken the foundations of the world, and covered the past with +mistiness and cloud. The excitement of the time, or the privations of +former years—or I know not what—threw the good Sebastian shortly after +this day upon a bed of sickness. He never rose from it again. He was not +rewarded as he should have been for all his sacrifices—for all the love +he had expended upon his grateful foster-child. He did not live to +witness my success—he did not see the completion of the work he had +begun. In spite of all my efforts to save his precious life, he sank, +and drew his latest breath in these devoted arms. I lost more than a +father."</p> + +<p>The baron paused, his lips were borne down by a tremulous motion: he +took my arm, and urged me gently from the spot. We walked for some +distance in silence. Collecting himself again, he proceeded:—</p> + +<p>"Sebastian, as I have told you, was a pious man. In truth, his faith was +boundless. He worshipped and adored the Virgin Mary as he would have +loved his own natural mother, had he known her. He was aware of my +unbelief, and had often spoken to me on the subject as a father might, +in accents of entreaty and regret. Whilst he was ill he gave me all the +money he had, and earnestly requested me to spare nothing to secure for +him the consolations of the Church. I obeyed him. I caused masses to be +said for him. I procured for him the visits of his priest. I left +nothing undone to give him peace and joy. Would it not have been +monstrous had I acted otherwise? He was morbidly anxious for the future: +he, righteous man, who was as pure in spirit, as guileless, as an +infant! I alone followed him to the grave; and after I had seen his +sacred dust consigned to earth, I crawled home with a heart almost +broken with its grief. I hid myself in my room for the day; and before I +quitted it again, devised a mode of testifying my gratitude to the +departed—one most acceptable to his wishes, had he lived to express +them. I remembered that he had neither friend nor relation—that I lived +his representative. He had spoken during his illness of the masses which +are said for the repose of the souls of the dead—spoken of them with a +solemn belief as to their efficacy and power. His gentle humanity +forbade his imposing upon me as a duty that which I might not easily +perform. My course was clear. I saved money sufficient for the purpose, +and then I founded the masses which are celebrated four times yearly in +the church of Saint Sulpice. The fulfilment of his pious desire, is the +only offering I can make to the memory of my dear foster-father. Upon +the days on which the masses are said I attend, and in his name repeat +the prayers that are required. This is all that a man with my opinions +can undertake; and this is no hypocrisy, nor can the Omniscient—if that +great spirit of nature be indeed capable of human passions—feel anger +at the act, when I solemnly declare that all I have on earth—and more +than I could wish of earthly happiness—I would this instant barter for +the meek inviolable faith of Jean Sebastian."</p> + +<p>The words were spoken at the door of the baron's residence, which we had +already reached. My hand was in that of the speaker. He had taken it in +the act of wishing me farewell. I grasped his palm affectionately, and +answered—</p> + +<p>"Why then, my friend, should you not possess this enviable blessing?"</p> + +<p>"Because I cannot struggle against conviction: because <i>faith</i> is not +subject to the <i>will</i>: because I know too little and too much: because I +cannot grasp a shadow, or palpably discern by day an evanescent, albeit +a lovely, dream of night. These are my reasons. Let us dismiss the +subject."</p> + +<p>And the subject <i>was</i> dismissed never to be taken up again. From this +time forward, our theological disputations ceased. The baron forbore his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_616" id="Page_616">[Pg 616]</a></span> +wit, and the good Cause was spared my feeble advocacy. Whether the baron +suspected that, after all, there might be inconsistency in continuing to +laugh at all religion whilst he persevered in visiting the church, or +whether the seeds of a new and better growth of things began already to +take root within him, I cannot take upon me to decide. To my relief and +comfort, the solemn argument was never again profaned by ribaldry and +unbecoming mirth; and, to my unfeigned delight, the teacher and the +pupil were without one let or hinderance to their perfect sympathy and +friendship.</p> + +<p>A year has elapsed since, in the manner shown, I received the key to so +many of the baron's seeming inconsistencies—when, as we were passing +one morning into the <i>Salle St Agnes</i> at the <i>Hotel Dieu</i>, we were +surprised to find, standing at the door of the ward—the venerable and +humble minister of Auvergne. His face brightened at the approach of the +baron, and he bowed respectfully in greeting him.</p> + +<p>"What brings you here again, old friend?" enquired the surgeon; "no +relapse, I trust?"</p> + +<p>"Gratitude," replied the priest. A large basket was on his arm—his +shoes were covered with dust—he had journeyed far on foot. "It is a +year since I left this roof with my life restored to me, under God's +blessing, by you. I could not let the anniversary slip away without +paying you a visit, and bringing you a trifling present. It is scarcely +worth your acceptance—but it is the best my grateful heart can offer, +and I though you would receive it kindly. A few chickens from the +poultry-yard, and a little fruit from the orchard."</p> + +<p>The baron received the gift with a better grace than I had seen him +accept a much handsomer fee. He invited the priest to his house, +detained him there for some hours, and dismissed him with many presents +for the poor amongst his flock at Auvergne.</p> + +<p>And thus stood matters when the last stroke of my two years was sounded, +and I was summoned home. I left the baron, need I say, with real regret; +he was not pleased at my departure. I engaged to write to him, and to +pay another visit to Paris as soon as my affairs permitted me. I have +never trode French soil since; I never saw the baron afterwards. My +curiosity, however, did not suffer me to be in ignorance of my friend's +proceedings; and what I have now to add is gathered from a +communication, received shortly after the baron's death, from his +faithful and attached <i>François</i>.</p> + +<p>For seven years the priest came annually with his gifts to the Hotel +Dieu, and on each occasion was the baron's visitor; at first for a day +or two, but afterwards for a week—and then longer still. During the +second visitation, it was discovered that the minister was related +distantly to the baron's former friend <i>Sebastian</i>. As soon as this was +known, the surgeon offered the good man a home and an annuity. The +former he modestly declined: the latter he accepted, distributing it in +alms amongst the needy who abounded in his parish. The surgeon and the +priest became great friends and frequent correspondents. The temper of +the baron altered. He grew less morose—less violent—less +self-indulgent—less bigoted. He reconciled a proper respect for the +rich with a feeling regard for the poor. He became the pupil of the +simple priest, and profited by his instruction and example. Seven years +after my departure from Paris, the baron fell ill—and the priest of +Auvergne, summoned to his bedside, ministered there, and gave his +blessing to a meek, obedient child. He died, and the priest, shedding +tears of sorrow and of joy commingled, closed his glassy eyes. What +passed between them in his latest moments may not be repeated. +<i>François</i> heard but a sentence as he knelt at his master's pillow. It +was amongst the last he uttered.</p> + +<p>"François, love the Auvergnats: they have saved your poor master—body +and soul!"</p> + +<p>That body was borne to the grave by the students of the <i>Hotel +Dieu</i>—the greyheaded priest following in the train; and the +<i>soul</i>—Heaven in its infinite mercy hath surely not forgotten.</p> + + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> It was not until a few weeks after my arrival in Paris that I +became acquainted with the fact, thus delicately pointed at by my modest +friend Mr H——. It would appear that no Parisian student of medicine +can pursue his studies at home without assistance. A female friend, +tutor, or whatever else she may be called, graced the lodgings of every +one of my hospital friends.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_SNOW" id="THE_SNOW"></a>THE SNOW.</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_617" id="Page_617">[Pg 617]</a></span></p> + +<h3>BY DELTA.</h3> + + + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">I.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The snow! the snow! 'tis a pleasant thing</span><br /> +<span class="i2">To watch it falling, falling</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Down upon earth with noiseless wing,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">As at some spirit's calling:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Each flake seems a fairy parachute,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">From mystic cloudland blown,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And earth is still, and air is mute,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">As frost's enchanted zone.</span><br /> +</div> + + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">II.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The shrubs bend down—behold the trees</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Their fingery boughs stretch out</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The blossoms of the sky to seize,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">As they duck and drive about;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The bare hills plead for a covering,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And ere the grey twilight</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Around their shoulders broad shall cling</span><br /> +<span class="i2">An arctic cloak of white.</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">III.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">With clapping hands, from drifted door</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Of lonely shieling, peeps</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The imp, to see thy mantle hoar</span><br /> +<span class="i2">O'erspread the craggy steeps.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The eagle round its eyrie screams;</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The hill-fox seeks the glade;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And foaming downwards rush the streams,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">As mad to be delay'd.</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">IV.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Falling white on the land it lies,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And falling dark in the sea;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The solan to its island flies,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The crow to the thick larch-tree;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Within the penthouse struts the cock,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">His draggled mates among;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">While black-eyed robin seems to mock</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The sadness with his song.</span><br /> +</div> + + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">V.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Released from school, 'twas ours to wage,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">How keenly! bloodless war—</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Tossing the balls in mimic rage,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">That left a gorgeous scar;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">While doublets dark were powder'd o'er,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Till darkness none could find;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And valorous chiefs had wounds before,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And caitiff churls behind.</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">VI.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Comrades, to work!—I see him yet,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">That piled-up giant grim,</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_618" id="Page_618">[Pg 618]</a></span> +<span class="i0">To startle horse and horseman set,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">With Titan girth of limb.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Snell Sir John Frost, with crystal spear,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">We hoped thou wouldst have screen'd him;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">But Thaw, the traitor, lurking near,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Soon cruelly guillotined him!</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">VII.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The powdery snow! Alas! to me</span><br /> +<span class="i2">It speaks of far-off days,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">When a boyish skater mingling free</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Amid the merry maze.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Methinks I see the broad ice still;</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And my nerves all jangling feel,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Blent with the tones of voices shrill,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The ring of the slider's heel.</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">VIII.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">A scene of revelry! Soon night</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Drew his murky curtains round</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The world, while a star of lustre bright</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Peep'd from the blue profound.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Yet what cared we for darkening lea,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Or warning bell remote?</span><br /> +<span class="i0">With rush and cry we scudded by,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And seized the bliss we sought.</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">IX.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Drift on, ye wild winds! leave no traces</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Of dim and danky earth:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">While eager faces fill their places</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Around the blazing hearth.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Then let the stories of the glories</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Of our sires be told;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Or tale of knight, who lady bright</span><br /> +<span class="i2">From thraldom saved of old.</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">X.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Or let the song the charms prolong,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">In music's haunting tone,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Of shores where spring's aye blossoming,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And winter is unknown;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Where zephyrs, sick with scent of flowers,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Along the lakelets play;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And lovers, wand'ring through the bowers,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Make life a holiday.</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">XI.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Sunset and snow! Lo, eve reveals</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Her starr'd map to the moon,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And o'er hush'd earth a radiance steals</span><br /> +<span class="i2">More bland than that of noon:</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The fur-robed genii of the Pole</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Dance o'er our mountains white,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Chain up the billows as they roll,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And pearl the caves with light.</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">XII.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The moon above the eastern fells</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Holds on a silent way;</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_619" id="Page_619">[Pg 619]</a></span> +<span class="i0">The mill-wheel, sparr'd with icicles,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Reflects her silver ray;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The ivy-tod, beneath its load,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Bends down with frosty curl;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And all around seems sown the ground</span><br /> +<span class="i2">With diamond and with pearl.</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">XIII.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The groves are black, the hills are white,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And, glittering in the sheen,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The lake expands—a sheet of light—</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Its willowy banks between;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">From the dark sedge that skirts its edge,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The startled wild-duck springs,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">While, echoing far up copse and scaur,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The fowler's musket rings.</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">XIV.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">From cove to cove how sweet to rove</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Around that fairy scene,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Companion'd, as along we move,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">By things and thoughts serene;—</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Voiceless—except where, cranking, rings</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The skater's curve along,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The demon of the ice, who sings</span><br /> +<span class="i2">His deep hoarse undersong.</span><br /> +</div> + + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">XV.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">In days of old, when spirits held</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The air, and the earth below,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">When o'er the green were, tripping, seen</span><br /> +<span class="i2">The fays—what wert thou, Snow?</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Leave eastern Greece its fabled fleece,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">For Northland has its own—</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The witches of Norway pluck their geese,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And thou art their plumes of down.</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i18">XVI.</span><br /> +<span class="i0">The snow! the snow! It brings to mind</span><br /> +<span class="i2">A thousand happy things,</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And but one sad one—'tis to find</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Too sure that Time hath wings!</span><br /> +<span class="i0">Oh, ever sweet is sight or sound</span><br /> +<span class="i2">That tells of long ago;</span><br /> +<span class="i0">And I gaze around, with thoughts profound,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Upon the falling snow!</span><br /> +</div> +</div> + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + +<h2><a name="LOVE_IN_THE_WILDERNESS" id="LOVE_IN_THE_WILDERNESS"></a>LOVE IN THE WILDERNESS.</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_620" id="Page_620">[Pg 620]</a></span></p> + + +<p>My father intended me for the church; but as it did not seem likely that +any body intended a church for me, I considered, from my earliest youth, +that all the education he gave me was thrown away. My tutors were +probably of the same opinion, and did not bestow much care on a person +who had no chance of being a bishop; and finally, the head of St John's, +in the most open and independent manner imaginable, wrote a letter to my +anxious parent, putting an end to any hopes he might have entertained of +my being senior wrangler, or even the wooden spoon, by informing him +that he considered I was qualified—if I devoted my energies entirely to +the subject—to plant cabbages; but with regard to Euclid, it was quite +out of the question. Whether I might have arrived at any eminence in the +praiseworthy pursuit alluded to by the learned Head, I do not know, as +horticulture never was my taste; but his observations on the subject of +Euclid were undeniably correct. I never got up to the asses' bridge, and +certainly could not have passed it if I had; so, in a very disconsolate +frame of mind, I took leave of the university after two terms' +residence, and returned to Rayleigh Court—an old dilapidated +manor-house, which had been in possession of our family even since it +began to fall into disrepair; which, judging from the crooked walls and +tottering chimneys, must have been some time in the reign of the +Plantagenets. I was an only son, and my father spoiled me—not, as only +sons are usually spoiled, by too much indulgence, but by the most +persevering and incessant system of bullying that ever made a poor +mortal miserable. He first cowed and terrified me into nervousness, and +called me a coward; then he thrashed and threatened me into stupidity, +and called me a fool: so that at eighteen there are few young persons of +these degenerate days who have so humble and true an opinion of +themselves, as I had had dinned into me from my earliest years.</p> + +<p>I slunk about the old court-yard of the house, or lay behind stacks in +the farm-yard, or sat whole days in a deserted attic, and never went +willingly near my father—the only other inhabitant of the mansion—and +was never enquired after by him. If I saw him, I trembled—if I heard +his voice, I felt inclined to fly to the other end of the house; and at +last, if I heard any one else speak a little louder than ordinary, I was +fain to betake me to some distant room, or even hide in a tangled +plantation called the Wilderness, at the other end of the park. The +house was immensely large, or rather the property was immensely small; +farm after farm had been sold by great-grandfathers and grandfathers; +but as they had not the sense to pull down a side of the mansion for +every estate they parted with, it had at last grown an encumbrance. +There was a residence fit for a man of ten thousand a-year, and a rental +of about eight hundred—the helmet of Otranto on the head of Sir +Geoffrey Hudson.</p> + +<p>If I could have been a bishop, or even a dean, and laid by four or five +thousand a-year—such were my father's views of me, and of +ecclesiastical preferment—I might buy back some of the ancient land and +repair the house, and that was the reason he determined I should go into +the church; for it is to be observed, that fathers have extraordinary +eyes when directed to the future fortunes of their sons. They seem to +have no power of seeing small curacy-houses filled with twelve children, +and butchers and bakers walking down the avenue in a melancholy and +despairing manner at Christmas time; but have pertinaciously before +their sight a superb mansion in James's Square, with a steady old coach +and two fat horses at the door; or a fine old turreted palace at +Lambeth, with five or six chaplains contesting the honour of the last +lick of the plate. Not a glimpse can they discover of the cold +rides—miserable scenes among the dying, the idle, the dissolute—hope +deferred—strength decaying—the proud man's contumely, the rich +vulgarian's scorn—struggle, struggle! toil and trouble! Blessings, say +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_621" id="Page_621">[Pg 621]</a></span> +I, on the outspoken head of St John's, and the impenetrability of +Euclid, that kept a blue coat on my back, and disappointed my father's +expectation of seeing me Lord Bishop of Durham. I should have been +chaplain to a poor-house to a certainty, and have envied my +parishioners; but I doubt very much, in the mean time, if the chaplain +of a poor-house would have envied me, imprisoned and pauperized in +Rayleigh Court.</p> + +<p>Luckily there were books—whole shelves of them—loaded with rich +morocco bindings, and pecks enough of dust (if distributed through the +month of March) to have ransomed all the Pharaohs. I passed over the +Dugdales, and even the Gwyllins, in despair; and lay whole days on the +floor, surrounded by <i>Faery Queens</i> and other anti-utilitarian +publications, sometimes fancying myself a Red-Cross knight—though +considerably at a loss to devise a substitute for the heavenly Una. But +by some strange caprice of fortune, a hoard was opened to me in one of +the lower shelves, beside the oriel window, which was more valuable than +Potosi and Golconda—a complete set of the Waverley Novels: there they +were—all included—from the great original to <i>Castle Dangerous</i>. As my +father's retiring habits prevented me from knowing a human being in the +neighbourhood, I made up to my heart's content for the want of living +friends, by forming the most enthusiastic attachments to Dandie Dinmont, +and Henry Morton, and Jonathan Oldbuck; not forgetting the excessive +love I entertained for Rose Bradwardine, Di Vernon, and a few others; so +that altogether, I think I may say, that no young man of my age was ever +blessed with such a large and enchanting circle of "friends and +sweethearts." In the mean time the external world was moving on, +troubling itself, in all likelihood, as little about me as I did about +it. We had a newspaper once a-week; but I never saw it. I knew that our +gracious sovereign lady, Queen Victoria, had just succeeded to our +gracious sovereign lord, King William—but to that great and important +fact in constitutional history my knowledge of temporary politics was +limited. What did I care about Peels or Melbournes, when I could enter +the council-chamber of Louis the Eleventh, or pass a pleasant morning +with Queen Elizabeth at Kenilworth Castle? My father lay—like a snake +surrounded by fire—in the centre of what had once been his family +estate; with purchasers gathering closer and closer round, till, like +the snake of the above similitude, he was inclined to sting himself to +death to avoid the increasing horror of his situation. From strange +muttered growls and deep imprecations when we met, I gathered that the +last fagot had been lighted, in the shape of a proposition by some +Eastern nabob, that he should sell the remaining portion of the land. +He, Rayleigh of Rayleigh Court—to sell to a stranger the park, the +fields, the house! He would have died first. And the reason for wishing +to buy, which was assigned by the intending purchaser, was worst of all; +that he had already made himself owner of every other farm which had +once belonged to the Rayleigh manors, and desired the family mansion to +make the estate complete—and his name was Jeeks—Jeeks of Rayleigh +Court! My father would have shot him if he had come within his reach; +but as Mr Jeeks kept at a respectable distance, the over-charge of +indignation was poured forth upon me; and the opinion, so obligingly +given of my abilities and probable success in life by the Master of St +John's, was never for an hour forgotten. It was very evident that there +was no hope of family restoration to be founded on so profound a +blockhead—an ass that could not get into the church—that moped and +wandered about the woods—that trembled when he was spoken to; and so +far from pushing his way in the world, and acquiring a fortune by +running off with an heiress, had not courage enough to look a milkmaid +in the face. I kept out of his sight more than ever, and read <i>Ivanhoe</i> +for the fifteenth time. Oh, Friar Tuck! Oh, Brian de Bois Guilbert! What +did I care for Mr Jeeks and his offers for Rayleigh Court?</p> + +<p>I was now twenty years of age, with the figure of a grenadier and the +courage of a boarding-school girl; and every day my father's indignation +seemed to increase, when he saw such a fund of marketable qualities +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_622" id="Page_622">[Pg 622]</a></span> +lying useless—my quietness and decorum would have done for the church; +my height and broad shoulders would have qualified me for Gretna Green. +But such a chicken-hearted fellow, he well knew, would sooner die than +mention a postchaise; and so the old gentleman, having ceased for some +years to express his contempt for me with the aid of his walking stick, +and a profusion of epithets unheard of in Johnson's <i>Dictionary</i>, took +now to the easier method of a dignified and unbroken silence. It was a +charming change, and I was as happy as Robinson Crusoe in the desert +island before Friday made his appearance. One day in June—"it was the +poet's leafy month of June"—I took my way, as was my Wont, through the +park to the Wilderness. The shadows of the broad thick-foliaged oaks lay +in gigantic masses on the smooth turf, (of which the gardeners were a +few relics of the former herds of deer, in the shape of wide-antlered +stags and dappled roes;) all the sights and sounds of summer beauty were +united in that solitary greensward; and for the first time in my life I +felt a regret pass over me that the grandeur of my family had decayed, +and a faint fluttering became perceptible to me, round my heart, of a +wish to restore our fortunes. But the intense appreciation of my own +deficiencies in which I had been educated, soon dispelled any pleasing +illusions that the self-love of twenty years of age might have excited; +and I fell into the opposite extreme, and rejoiced to think that in me +the family tree would lose its last branch, and that the old house would +crumble into actual ruins, instead of holding forth the false +appearances of solidity and strength which led to the expectation that +it was still capable of repair. I felt like Wilfred of Ivanhoe, when he +resolved to leave his home for ever; and if there had been any crusade +going on in 1838, and an Isaac of York willing to furnish me with horse +and harness, I should have been very glad to try my chance against the +Saracens, and prove myself a true Red Cross knight; for even at that +time, I felt assured that against any body but my father I could hold up +my head like a man; or on any subject but my stupidity—(which I was +willing to concede, as it came guaranteed under the hand and seal of the +master of a college)—I could have maintained my ground with the courage +of a Front-de-Boeuf. I took a bolder step and manlier bearing as I +passed along in the sunshine, and saw defined on the grass before me the +shadow of a gigantic being, elongated in the slanting rays to about +twelve feet high, with limbs and shoulders certainly a little attenuated +by the same solar deception, but still not quite such thread-papers as I +have since seen do duty in ball-rooms, to the evident satisfaction of +then possessors. The Wilderness was reached at last: and here I must +premise that the aristocratic appearances of bucks and roes entirely +ceased; for the said Wilderness was appropriated to the feeding of +certain animals of unpoetic figures, and even prosaic names, but which, +when well cooked and duly supplied with a condiment of beans, furnish by +no means a contemptible dinner to a hungry sportsman. The man who +despises beans and bacon is uniformly a puppy. I will, therefore, now +venture on the vulgar word, and say the Wilderness was used for feeding +swine, and all the long days the frisky quadrupeds went wiggling their +curly tails, and snorting among the oak-trees, with enormous +satisfaction. On reaching the centre of this umbrageous feeding-ground, +I was surprised to see my usual place of meditation occupied by a +stranger. It was a young girl, exhausted apparently by the heat of the +day, resting on the mossy turf and leaning against the trunk of a fine +old tree. Her bonnet was on the ground beside her; her hair was gently +moved to and fro by the wandering breeze; and on her lap lay a +work-basket, which she had evidently laid down to give herself more +entirely to repose. She was sound asleep, and I need scarcely say, as my +experience of the fair sex was extremely limited, that she was the most +captivating specimen I had ever seen; but shyness and awkwardness +overcame my desire to make her acquaintance. I looked at her for a +moment, saw the finely cut features, the beautifully complexioned +cheeks, the smiling lips and graceful figure, and turned away angry at +myself, at the same time that I could not summon courage to address her. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_623" id="Page_623">[Pg 623]</a></span> +Before I had gone far I heard a dreadful scream a little to my right, +and in an agony of terror a fair-haired young child, of six or seven +years old, rushed towards the sleeper, pursued apparently by one of the +largest of the grunting flock. It was evidently only in the excessive +buoyancy of its porcine spirits that it caracolled, and snuffed, and +galloped in such an imposing manner; but the terror of the little flyer +was as sincere as if it had been a royal Bengal tiger. In a moment I +sprang forward, gave the huge animal a kick with all my might, in a spot +which must have materially improved the tenderness of the ham—and took +the almost fainting child in my arms. The sleeper started up, and was no +little astonished to behold the feat I performed. I muttered a few +confused words, and tried in vain to still the terrors of my young +charge; but in a few minutes our united efforts had the desired effect, +and the elder sister thanked me for my chivalrous interference, and said +she would never forget my kindness.</p> + +<p>"It's nothing at all," I said—"I almost wish it had been a bonassus, +and I had had a rifle."</p> + +<p>"Oh! a pig, I assure you, is quite enough for us: isn't it, Amy?" Amy +seemed to consider a pig a great deal too much, and looked round in +alarm every time she heard a rustle among the branches.</p> + +<p>"It would have enabled me," I said, "to be really useful—like the +master of Ravenswood, I added, when he shot the wild bull."</p> + +<p>"But you wouldn't surely wish to see Amy and me in real danger, merely +to have the glory of delivering us from it. That would be too selfish."</p> + +<p>"Not selfish if I was certain of saving you; and, besides, it would be +such an excellent introduction."</p> + +<p>"But we have already told you, that we are as much indebted for your +interference as if you had put a whole herd of furious cattle to death. +For my part, I am perfectly satisfied with the introduction as it is."</p> + +<p>"Then we may consider ourselves friends?" I enquired, gradually becoming +less embarrassed by the manner of the unknown.</p> + +<p>"Certainly—I tell you we shall never forget your gallant interference. +It is strange we never met with such an adventure before; for Amy and I +come very often here."</p> + +<p>"Indeed?—It is certainly very strange that I have never seen you +before; for <i>I</i> am here almost every day."</p> + +<p>"Why, if you keep your eyes constantly on the ground, you have no great +chance of seeing any thing but the grass. We have seen you often."</p> + +<p>"And you know my name, of course?"</p> + +<p>"Henry Rayleigh, of Rayleigh Court. Oh! we know all about you."</p> + +<p>"And I—I am ashamed to say, I have not the same advantage with regard +to your style and title—I feel sure it must be a beautiful name."</p> + +<p>"You had better guess."</p> + +<p>"Flora? Edith? Rebecca?"</p> + +<p>"We must go home now," said the little one.</p> + +<p>"Isabella? Brenda? Minna?"</p> + +<p>"No—you will never find it out."</p> + +<p>"Then you will surely tell me."</p> + +<p>"Oh no!—that would spoil the romance of our acquaintance."</p> + +<p>"And am I never to find out who you are?"</p> + +<p>"Probably not, if you bury yourself in the woods all your life. I have +been your neighbour for half a year, and you have never seen me."</p> + +<p>"My eyes must have been blinded; but I will bury myself no more. Do tell +me your name, and where you live, for I am very ill qualified to be a +discoverer."</p> + +<p>"I shall certainly not destroy the charm of mystery. Let it be enough +that you know me by sight. The name is of no consequence—but if you +really wish to know it"——</p> + +<p>"I do indeed."</p> + +<p>"Call me Lucy Ashton, and that will remind you of the service you did me +to-day. In the mean time do not follow us. I should wish this meeting +kept a secret—come, Amy."</p> + +<p>And so saying, and taking her sister by the hand, she walked rapidly +away, leaving me with the pleasing expression which is commonly +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_624" id="Page_624">[Pg 624]</a></span> +attributed to a stuck pig, gazing at her graceful motion, and half +inclined to consider the whole interview a delusion of the fancy, or at +least a dream.</p> + +<p>Lucy Ashton!—a charming idea!—and I the master of Ravenswood! My +neighbour for half a year—and often in the Wilderness! Then of course +she will come often here again. I will find out who she is. I will sit +no longer in the deep recess of an old pew at church, which is hidden +from all the rest of the congregation. I will even go down and call on +the clergyman. He must surely have observed the most beautiful girl in +the world. He can't have been such a mole as I have been. I will find +out all about her; and astonish her next time we meet, by telling her +the result of my enquiries.</p> + +<p>On these exploratory thoughts intent, I took my homeward way. The old +turrets of the house rose before me, more distressingly symptomatic of +poverty and decay than ever. I crossed the noble quadrangle, which was +overgrown with grass, and betook myself to the great dark-wainscoted old +library, utterly disgusted at the folly or extravagance of my ancestors, +in having reduced me to such a condition. I began to think that my +father was not so much to blame in lamenting our fallen state as +before;—and that night I fell asleep, wondering if Lucy Ashton's father +was a governor of the Bank of England, or if she was as poor and +portionless a being as myself.</p> + + +<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> + +<p>Next day I walked down to the parsonage. It was in Rayleigh village, and +the living had once belonged to our family, but among the diminishing +possessions was the first to be disposed of. It was held by Mr Dobble, +to whom I was hardly known except by sight—and the reverend gentleman +was no little astonished when my name was announced. He was a little +short man, about fifty years of age, very polite and very talkative; but +who seemed always to recollect something or other in the middle of a +speech, and end on quite a different subject from what he had begun.</p> + +<p>"My dear sir," he began, "I am truly glad to see you. By the by, I don't +think I have ever seen you in the parsonage before."</p> + +<p>"I have lived very retired—we never move from home—my father sees no +company."</p> + +<p>"Ah, very true—the more's the pity! I shall always be delighted if you +will come in at any time. By the by, are you fond of fishing?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I sometimes fish."</p> + +<p>"Your father keeps you a great deal too much boxed up for a young man of +your time of life. You should be forming a stock of friends just now, to +last you your lifetime. By the by, are you a judge of wine?"</p> + +<p>"No, I never taste it."</p> + +<p>"No?—for I was going to observe that a young man should act like a +young housekeeper—lay in his friends as the other does his cellar; and +always keep up the stock—particularly pleasant men and port-wine. They +improve"——</p> + +<p>"My stock is certainly very limited," I said.</p> + +<p>"You should enlarge it at once. By the by, there are a great many new +residents in this parish since I was inducted."</p> + +<p>"So I believe."</p> + +<p>"Ah, just so!—never called on them, of course—By the by, will you have +any lunch?"</p> + +<p>"No, I thank you. I have never called on any of the new-comers. I don't +even know their names."</p> + +<p>"That's odd! But it isn't of so much consequence now, for they are all +getting bought out. By the by, would you like to see the repairs in the +chancel?"</p> + +<p>"No, I thank you. Are they getting bought out?"</p> + +<p>"Not a doubt of it. All the old farms and manor-houses, which had been +converted into comfortable modern dwelling-houses by the different +proprietors, are nearly all in one owner's hands again—as they used to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_625" id="Page_625">[Pg 625]</a></span> +be, in ancient times, in your ancestors' hands. The whole estate nearly +is reunited, and the purchaser is restoring things as much as he can to +their ancient condition. He gave Mr Juffles thirty thousand pounds for +the Grange about six months ago; and all the Juffles family is to be off +in six weeks. By the by, you are not acquainted with the +Juffleses?—they haven't been here more than five years."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't know them—are they a numerous family?"</p> + +<p>"Sons and daughters by the dozen. By the by, weren't you at college for +some time?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, for a few terms. How many sons has Mr Juffles?"</p> + +<p>"Seven or eight—John, Thomas, Abraham, Alexander, George, Hookey, and +another; but whether his name is Richard or Robert I don't recollect. By +the by, was it Oxford or Cambridge?"</p> + +<p>"And the daughters?" I said, not attending to his question—"he has many +daughters, you said, as well as sons."</p> + +<p>"Oh, seven or eight of them too—Susan, Martha, Elizabeth, a younger +one, I don't recollect her name, Anne, Sophia, and some little ones. By +the by, the Indian mail is very interesting—have you seen the news?"</p> + +<p>"No, I never see a newspaper. Is there a young lady among Mr Juffles's +family of the pretty name of Amy?"</p> + +<p>"Amy?—Amy?—'pon my word I don't recollect. And yet I think I do. I +think I have heard the governess call one of the children Amy. By the +by, we have had charming weather of late."</p> + +<p>"Charming. How old is the governess?"</p> + +<p>"A young person—too young, I should say, for such a charge; seventeen, +perhaps."</p> + +<p>"And you are sure you have heard her call one of them Amy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think I may say I am sure. By the by, the French seem very +unsteady. I admire Louis Philippe."</p> + +<p>"Is the governess pretty?"</p> + +<p>"I should say so—yes, I should say decidedly pretty. By the by, he +seems inclined to dismiss M. Thiers."</p> + +<p>"Blue eyes, beautiful mouth, sweet smile, and musical voice?"</p> + +<p>"Who, my good sir?—Louis Philippe and M. Thiers? By the by, weren't you +asking me about Mr Juffles's——? Ah! now I recollect. The +governess—yes, she has blue eyes, and sings beautifully."</p> + +<p>"And walks out with Amy?"</p> + +<p>"Of course. By the by, do you hunt?"</p> + +<p>"No, I have no horse. And how old are Mr Juffles's other daughters?"</p> + +<p>"All ages, from twenty-three downwards. By the by"——</p> + +<p>"Is there one about seventeen?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I should say the pretty one—I forget her name, Elizabeth, I +think—was just about that age. You should be introduced. But, by the +by, it would be of little use. They leave the Grange in a few weeks, if +indeed they are not gone already; for they were to be ready at a day's +notice, and I haven't seen them since Sunday week. By the by, Russia +seems very discontented. Do you think they meditate an invasion?"</p> + +<p>"I never read politics. Are any of the other neighbours about to remove +also?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes! Mr Poggs, the rich West Indian who bought Hartley Mead, that +used to be a part of your park a hundred years ago, and fitted up the +Gothic cottage at such an immense expense. He's bought out—fifteen +thousand pounds for two hundred acres, and he is to remove next +Michaelmas. By the by, which style of architecture do you prefer?"</p> + +<p>"I know nothing of the subject. Has Mr Poggs a family?"</p> + +<p>"Two daughters, but I scarcely know them. Old Poggs is half a dissenter. +By the by"——</p> + +<p>"How old are the daughters?"</p> + +<p>"'Pon my word, my young friend, you would do for an inquisitor."</p> + +<p>"I have a very particular reason for asking these questions."</p> + +<p>"Ah I see!" said Mr Dobble, "young men will be curious about their +neighbours' children. By the by, have you seen the Bishop of London's +charge?"</p> + +<p>"No, I see nothing new. How old are Mr Poggs's daughters?"</p> + +<p>"One, the eldest, a tall handsome girl, I should say about seventeen; +the other six or seven."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_626" id="Page_626">[Pg 626]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do you know the younger one's name?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think I ever heard it. Do you know the young ladies?"</p> + +<p>"I have told you already, that I have not the happiness of knowing any +of the neighbours;—and I regret very much to hear that they are going +away before I have had the opportunity of making their acquaintance."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, not all! They are not all going. Mr Jeeks himself will be +constantly resident. By the by, are you fond of shooting?"</p> + +<p>"Has he any family?"</p> + +<p>"A son—yes, I know he has a son, but I am not sure of any daughters. In +fact, between ourselves, I don't think he has any daughters,—and it is +no great loss it they were any thing like the son. No, I know he has no +daughters. By the by, he talks of coming home from college this month."</p> + +<p>"How old is the son?"</p> + +<p>"About one or two and twenty. Very stupid or very idle, I am afraid. He +can't take his degree."</p> + +<p>I got up to go away. I felt that the object of my mission was +unattained.</p> + +<p>"Don't go, my dear sir; don't go. 'Pon my word I did not mean any thing +in what I said. He may be very clever, and very admirable in every +respect, though he does not take his degree. By the by, did you see +Brougham's speech on the poor-law? He should be called the poor-lawyer +<i>par excellence</i>, as the French say. You'll call on me soon again, I +hope. By the by, are you fond of tulips? I have a beautiful bed just in +bloom."</p> + +<p>O Poggs!—O Juffles!—O nameless governess! which of you all was Lucy +Ashton?—I waited all that day in the Wilderness, but nobody came. The +long shadows began to point eastward; the pigs were all driven in; the +world was left to silence and to me; and I walked slowly and +disconsolately home.</p> + +<p>On getting inside the great door of the court-yard, I heard +voices—loud, angry voices. I recognized my father's tones, and was +about to go round by the inner wall, when, hurrying rapidly towards me, +I saw three persons—my father was one of them. The elder of the others +was a man about sixty years of age—brown, almost black in the +complexion, with nankin trousers a world too large for his long legs; an +immense broad-brimmed straw-hat on his head, and a large gold-headed +cane in his hand. The other was a little sharp-eyed, thin-featured man, +about my own age, but with the appearance of twenty times the shrewdness +I could ever muster—one of the prematurely sagacious youths who seem as +if they had been born attorneys, and are on the look-out for sharp +practice.</p> + +<p>"I have already told you, sir, that your intrusion is insulting," said +my father: "relieve me of your presence."</p> + +<p>"Jist as you like, that's matter of course," said the old man; "but the +time will come when you'll repent this here unpoliteness. I never see +sich a thing from a real gentleman to another in all my born days."</p> + +<p>"It's because he ain't master of the philosophy of good manners," +squeaked the younger.</p> + +<p>"Why, what in hearth," continued the senior, "is there to be angry +about? I want to buy your land—it ain't any sich enormous property ater +all—and offer you about three times the vallyation of a respectable +surveyor; what's that to set up your back about? Come now, there's a +good gentleman, think better over it. The money is all ready at the +bank."</p> + +<p>"Do you wish to drive me to violent measures—to throw you into the +river?" asked my father in a voice of concentrated passion that made me +feel very uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>"By no manner of means—by no means whatsomever."</p> + +<p>"As to that," interposed the shrill voice of the youth, "two can play at +that game; but it ain't philosophical to talk of sich matters—father +makes you a fair offer."</p> + +<p>"And I make you another," I said; "namely, one minute's time to leave +this house. If you are found one instant beyond the minute, by Heaven, +you and your father make but one step from this spot into the centre of +the brook!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! ha! who are you, sir?" the youth began, but paused when he saw some +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_627" id="Page_627">[Pg 627]</a></span></p><p> +convulsive twitching taking possession of my hands; and an expression +far removed from either philosophy or politeness spreading around my +eyes.</p> + +<p>"This here is young Rayleigh," said the old man, "and p'r'aps he'll be +more open to reason and twenty-seven thousand five hundred pounds."</p> + +<p>"Thirty seconds are elapsed," I said, going forward to the young man; +"you have but thirty more." My hand advanced, but, luckily before the +thirty seconds were exhausted, the door had closed on the hateful +presence, and my father held out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Henry—I am obliged to you, Henry," he said; and I had never +heard him call me by my name since the memorable character bestowed on +me by the head of St John's. He looked me all over, as he spoke, from +head to foot: he seemed surprised and pleased at the result of his +survey.</p> + +<p>"They are vulgar people," he said, "and have irritated me past endurance +by their insulting offers. They have never ventured to present +themselves here till now; and, from the reception we have given them, I +hardly think they will repeat their visit."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, sir, you allowed them to chafe you."</p> + +<p>"I will not do so in future. You will be beside me, Henry; the father +and son together can offer a bold face to the world in spite of these +crumbling walls. We can despise the dross of that vile Croesus, and +keep the Rayleigh mansion-house in the Rayleigh name."</p> + +<p>"Who is he?"</p> + +<p>"The possessor of every other portion of the estate but this; his name +is Jeeks, and the young fellow is his son—his only child, I +believe—very rich, and very disgusting. Let us think of them no more."</p> + +<p>That evening we had a long and confidential talk; and I perceived that, +though he had finally given up all intention of getting me into the +church, in the hopes of patching up the holes in the old roof with a +mitre, he had fully made up his mind on the subject of a widow. I +rejoiced that Mrs Coutts was already disposed of. He talked a long time +of jointures, three per cents, India stock; and I—O youth! O hope!—I +mused all the time on the beautiful eyes and sweet smiles of my unknown +enchantress, and made pious resolutions to betake myself, like some +ancient anchorite, to the Wilderness, for the purpose of worship and +meditation.</p> + + +<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> + +<p>Lucy Ashton was under the tree—Amy, like a sensible child, busily +employed at a little distance gathering flowers; the sun shining, the +bees humming, the birds chirruping.</p> + +<p>"You made me wretched all yesterday," I said.</p> + +<p>"Indeed! had the worthy Caleb no device to cheer the young master's +solitude?"</p> + +<p>"Impossible, even for Caleb's ingenuity, to supply the want of society +as he contrives to hide the absence of silver plate. Ah, why did you not +come?"</p> + +<p>"I don't recollect having promised to expose poor Amy again to the +assaults of a wild boar."</p> + +<p>"Or yourself to the conversation of a person like me."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I have told you, over and over again, I am delighted to have seen +you; and I like your conversation amazingly: you are very different +indeed from what I expected."</p> + +<p>"In Heaven's name, what did you expect?" I said. "Who ever spoke of me +to you, that knew me?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody that knew you; but you are a good deal spoken of, +notwithstanding. I was curious to see if they were correct."</p> + +<p>"And what did they say? I will endeavour to correct them if they are +mistaken."</p> + +<p>"They said you and your father moped so continually in the old house, +that you had grown (like Quasimodo) to have a resemblance to brick and +mortar yourselves. I expect to see you like a gable-end, with a couple +of mullioned windows for eyes, and a mouth. I was astonished to see you +so nearly human."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_628" id="Page_628">[Pg 628]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ah! you will humanize me still more if you laugh at me as you do; do +take pity on me, and don't let me settle down into a wall."</p> + +<p>"With all my heart, for I have no turn for architecture; and, by all the +descriptions I hear of the old court, you don't seem to be Palladios."</p> + +<p>"There may be other reasons besides a want of skill and inclination," I +said, with a sad feeling of the anti-architectural condition of our +exchequer.</p> + +<p>"Oh! you mean poverty. Then, why don't you sell the old place?"</p> + +<p>"It would kill my father to think of it."</p> + +<p>"But it would not have so dreadful an effect on you? I know you could +get it sold if you like."</p> + +<p>"An old impudent fellow of the name of Jeeks wishes to force us into a +sale. I will see him and all his race at the bottom of the Red Sea +first."</p> + +<p>"Would you sell it then?" she said.</p> + +<p>"No—but, fair Lucy Ashton, why do you ask?"</p> + +<p>"Because if you parted with one brick of the old house, one blade of +grass of the old park, one leaf of one old tree in the old wood, our +acquaintance would end as rapidly as it began."</p> + +<p>"Then it shall suffer no decay," I said, and took her hand, which she +held out to me with honest warmth; "and now let me find out, if I can, +who it is that gives me such admirable advice. I called on Mr Dobble +yesterday."</p> + +<p>"He told you a great many things, by the by, did he?" she said.</p> + +<p>"You know him, I see, and he knows <i>you</i>." As I said this, I looked with +the air of a man who has discovered a portentous secret; but she bore my +look with the same celestial open smile as ever.</p> + +<p>"What a happy man he must be in knowing so first-rate a parishioner. Did +he boast much of our acquaintance?"</p> + +<p>"He seemed to know more of your brothers and sisters," I said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, which of them did he like best? How many did he say I had?"</p> + +<p>This was a puzzler; for I was quite undecided whether to consider her a +daughter of the house of Juffles with fourteen children, or Poggs with +only two.</p> + +<p>"Amy seemed a great favourite," I replied.</p> + +<p>"But, my brothers—what did he say of my brothers?"</p> + +<p>"He said—but perhaps it was in confidence—so I will not mention all he +told me. He spoke highly of the whole family of Mr Poggs."</p> + +<p>"And very properly too. We are all pleasant people in this +neighbourhood; and, indeed, I wonder he can make any distinction in the +degrees of amiability between the Poggses, Juffleses, Higginsons, +Jeekses, Wilcoxes, and all the late and present occupiers of the +Rayleigh estates."</p> + +<p>"Higginsons? Wilcoxes? he never mentioned them; but as to the Jeekses, +pray don't speak of those detestable wretches. I hope you despise young +Jeeks as heartily as I do."</p> + +<p>"Not quite, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"No?" I looked at her. Gracious powers! is it possible this beautiful +creature can be so blinded by the fortune of the wretched animal, as to +look upon him without disgust. "Are you intimate with him?" I enquired.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes! we are all very social down here; no ceremony between +neighbours. He is a great sportsman."</p> + +<p>"Oh, then, it must be your brothers that are his friends, not you!"</p> + +<p>"I certainly don't go out shooting with him—in fact, I have no time. I +am engaged educating Amy so many hours, that I could not practise enough +to be able to hit a bonassus, like a celebrated marksman of my +acquaintance; far less a partridge."</p> + +<p>"And you educate Amy? and yet you have brothers? and don't despise young +Jeeks? and know every body?"</p> + +<p>"And like them all," she added.</p> + +<p>"All equally?" I enquired.</p> + +<p>"With a difference, as a body may say."</p> + +<p>"And Amy is your sister?"</p> + +<p>"We call ourselves so."</p> + +<p>"Then, by Heavens, you are Miss Poggs!"</p> + +<p>"Well, is that any thing to swear about? There have been Misses Poggs in +the world before, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"But you talked of educating her; devoting your time to her."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_629" id="Page_629">[Pg 629]</a></span></p> + +<p>"So I do."</p> + +<p>"Then you are the governess in Mr Juffles' family."</p> + +<p>"Why not? You don't think worse of a person for being able to give a +little information to a little girl of seven years old, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Think worse of her? Ah, Lucy Ashton! I could not think worse of you, if +you were able to teach the Head of a college."</p> + +<p>"You could not think <i>worse</i> of me? Do you mean worse of me than you +think already? In that case I must retire."</p> + +<p>"No, no; don't go! I have not found out yet who you are."</p> + +<p>"I thought you had found out I was two. You can't surely be wrong in +both."</p> + +<p>"I suspect I am. You spoke of your brothers. Now, I make a guess you +have seven. I could tell you their names."</p> + +<p>"You mistake your rôle, or rather confuse it. You are the master of +Ravenswood, not Frank Osbaldistone. I am not Di Vernon."</p> + +<p>"You are a puzzle; an Urganda the unknown."</p> + +<p>"That means that you are the Bel Tenebroso. You will perhaps be +disenchanted soon."</p> + +<p>"Only if you leave the country."</p> + +<p>"Why, won't you have the Poggses, Jeekses, Juffleses, though I find +another situation? you can make their acquaintance whenever you please. +You will be re-enchanted again, I assure you."</p> + +<p>"By Heavens, I believe you are making a fool of me all this time! You +are the third Miss Juffles yourself."</p> + +<p>"Swearing again? What would Mr Dobble say, by the by? I never denied +that I was either the third or fourth Miss Juffles. Are you happy now?" +she said with a smile.</p> + +<p>"I can't be any thing else so near to Lucy Ashton."</p> + +<p>"Oh, cry you mercy; you are back again at Wolf's Crag! And I assure you, +I like you better in the character of its inhabitant than as the +Inquisitor-general and particular too—which you have acted all to-day. +Let there be a truce between us in question and answer, and all will be +delightful. We have hitherto been like Mrs Marcet's chemistry, all +<i>whys</i> and <i>becauses</i>."</p> + +<p>The truce was signed, and an hour passed away, composed of sixty minutes +of enjoyment, as if it had all been one second; and I felt that there +was only one woman in the whole world that could ever keep me from being +wretched; and that was a beautiful young girl in a straw bonnet—name, +parentage, and every thing about her, totally unknown.</p> + +<p>At the end of the time she took Amy's hand and left me. I did not follow +her—I had promised I would not; but I had exacted a promise in return, +that she would meet me again. And so she did again and again. I never +asked who she was; I did not even care to know. Five weeks passed on, +and I was as irrecoverably in love as if I had known she was a duchess, +with fortune enough to buy back the whole estate.</p> + +<p>All this time my father was very kind in his manner; and was constantly +dwelling on the advantages of a wealthy match. My heart bled for him +when I reflected how bitter would be his disappointment when he found +out the dreadful truth, that every woman in existence was hateful to me +except one poor penniless girl; at the best, one of fourteen children, +and perhaps a governess without a <i>sou</i>. But I would not destroy his +dreams before there was occasion—and sat silent and unresisting, as he +poured forth his matrimonial schemes for my aggrandizement.</p> + +<p>But Lucy at last was unpunctual in her visits to the Wilderness. One day +I had waited from an early hour, and had strained my eyes to catch the +first glimpse of her glorious figure as she tripped among the trees. I +had at last sat down beneath the accustomed oak, and was fancying all +manner of reasons for her not making her appearance, when all of a +sudden I heard a rustle at my side, and, starting up, saw before me the +pragmatical visage of young Mr Jeeks.</p> + +<p>"Servant, sir," he squeaked in his shrill unmusical tones, "Oho! this is +the philosophy of it—is it?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, sir, and what do you want here? Are you aware that +this forms as yet no part of your father's land."</p> + +<p>"It will soon, p'r'aps—but I want just to say a few words. I hope not +to lose my temper, as I unfortunately did last time I dropped in to see +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_630" id="Page_630">[Pg 630]</a></span> +you and your governor; for why should gentlemen quarrel? It ain't +philosophic."</p> + +<p>"I should think what <i>gentlemen</i> do, whether they quarrel or not, is a +matter in which you can have no personal experience. Say on, sir."</p> + +<p>"I am just agoing to begin; and I only hope I shall not get exasperated, +and misbehave myself, as I certainly feel I did the last time we had a +talk."</p> + +<p>"Go on; I don't think you'll get exasperated, whatever else may happen +to you."</p> + +<p>"You think, p'r'aps, that your goings on, young Mr Rayleigh, ar'n't +known; but they are though."</p> + +<p>"In what respect, sir? What do you allude to?"</p> + +<p>"Petticoats—that's what I allude to; and I come just to give you a +friendly warning, that the seven young Juffleses are all six feet high."</p> + +<p>"Your information is totally undesired."</p> + +<p>"I know it is—it's uncommon unpleasant information; and, if I was you, +I would give up the chase. She's certainly a very pretty girl is Betsy +Juffles—but not fit for you or me, you know. She has no blood."</p> + +<p>"As I don't know whom you allude to, of course I can give you no answer; +but, as you seem to be giving me advice, I will favour you with a very +decided piece of it in return; which is, to hold your tongue on any +subject connected with me, or the consequences to yourself will be such +as you will hardly like."</p> + +<p>"Thank ye for your friendliness—I am rather fond of advice than +otherwise, though it's certainly one of the things that it's more +blessed to give than to receive; and I will just give you a hint that +may do you good—Betsy's a very good-natured girl, but fickle—very."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes!—she is indeed—she made great advances to me once; but I +rather checked her. A very clever girl too—and speaks French; but she +has no philosophy. She went to the last assizes, and fell in with some +dragoon officers at a ball. She's all for the redcoats now, or at least +was till lately—but since then she"——</p> + +<p>Here the little animal winked.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" I said, willing to hear what the creature would say.</p> + +<p>"I have scarcely spoke to her for a long time; but I hear some of her +proceedings," he continued.</p> + +<p>"You do?—from whom, pray?"</p> + +<p>"Why, it can't be supposed I never hear Amy talking about how often she +goes out with Betsy. I'm very much against Amy seeing her at all. Her +steady stupid sister would be a far safer companion than such a wild +sort of girl as Betsy Juffles."</p> + +<p>"You say she once made advances to you," I said, with a horrid suspicion +at my heart that I had been an egregious fool.</p> + +<p>"Didn't she? You should have seen her looks. She always sat a little +behind her mother's chair, so as to be out of the old lady's eye, and +did cast such preternatural glances across the room to me, and smiled, +and smirked, and sidled, and shook her curls—it was wonderful to +behold, but she had no philosophy, and I looked cold"——</p> + +<p>"And chilled her?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly. I could have tumbled her into the railway, and been off to +Gretna, by only holding up my finger—but I wouldn't. She bore it pretty +well, considering the disappointment; and first consoled herself by +flirting at a ball with a set of ensigns and cornets, and then took to +you."</p> + +<p>"To me? I don't understand you, Mr Jeeks."</p> + +<p>"You do!"</p> + +<p>"You are an insolent jackanapes"——</p> + +<p>"I'm not—come, I am trying to keep my temper; but p'r'aps you think +Betsy a good speck? Bah! she'll not have five hundred pounds; and your +bumptious old governor won't buy back many of the old acres with a +dribble like that."</p> + +<p>This time I did not give him a minute's grace: my hand was on his collar +in a moment; I shook him till his teeth rattled audibly, like dice in a +box; I kicked him, pushed him, and, as the gratification grew with what +it fed on, at one dread reckoning I paid off the horror I experienced +from his account of the girl I had worshipped, and his insolent mention +of my father. I took a fiendish delight in prolonging his agonies. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_631" id="Page_631">[Pg 631]</a></span> +Another minute's indulgence in the punishment would have raised the +tiger that lies sleeping, but always awakable, in every man's heart, and +I might have killed him outright; but luckily we got near the boundary +hedge. It was of strong old thorns, very thick and high, and very wide +at top. I seized my victim with both hands, and swung him on to the +summit of the hedge, where, after wriggling a short time in every +variety of ridiculous contortions, and squeaking as he sank deeper and +deeper among the thorns, he threw himself by a great effort to the other +side, and rolled into the ditch.</p> + +<p>Some people seem to take naturally to a thrashing, as others do the +small-pox. In a few minutes I perceived him emerge from the ditch and +walk—though rather stiffly—across the field. "Thank Heaven," I said, +"if I have been a dupe I am not a murderer!"</p> + + +<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + +<p>Next day I waited again—and the next, and the next; and no Lucy Ashton, +or rather no Betsy Juffles, came. The next day was Friday—my birthday. +I had much to do; my father was resolved to celebrate the great event by +a solemn dinner <i>tête-à-tête</i>, during which he was to communicate his +final decision with respect to my future pursuits. I hurried to the +Wilderness in the morning—no success—and in despair betook myself once +more to Mr Dobble. That gentleman's dovetailed observations were by no +means elucidatory on the point I came to clear up. He did not know the +names of all the members of any of the families—he had never heard of +any persons of the name of Higginson or Wilcox—he knew nothing of the +colour of people's eyes—and did not recollect whether any one member of +his flock had red hair or black. How difficult to take the commonest +observations in the cold northern latitude of forty-five! But one thing +at last I discovered; the Juffleses were to leave on the following +day—the Poggses had been gone since Tuesday.</p> + +<p>"By the by," he said, after this information; "you are much indebted to +your cousin, young Jeeks—I never knew till lately he had the honour to +be a relation."</p> + +<p>"I never knew it, sir; and certainly make no claim."</p> + +<p>"But you ought, my good sir, after the service he did you on Monday"——</p> + +<p>"What service, sir? I am not aware of any."</p> + +<p>"Indeed? That's most extraordinary! I understood he interfered, and +saved you from a personal assault."</p> + +<p>"He?"</p> + +<p>"Yes! And he certainly bears marks of his efforts on your behalf. By the +by, the Ministry seems tottering."</p> + +<p>"I thought you said, Mr Dobble, this Mr Jeeks pretends to be my +relation. Did he ever tell you by what means, or in what degree?</p> + +<p>"Yes; but I am no herald. Some old lady long ago married a person who +had a daughter, who had another daughter, who had a son who is the +father of old Mr Jeeks, who made an immense fortune at Canton. Opium, I +am afraid—more opium than tea."</p> + +<p>"It does not seem alarmingly near, at all events; and I beg to assure +you that the interference he talks of on my behalf, was of such a +nature, that it is of my gratitude he bears the emblems which he +attributes to his friendly zeal."</p> + +<p>I hurried from the parsonage. I had not an hour to spare; but an +irresistible attraction drew me to the wood—and there, in the rural +seat, was Lucy Ashton once more! She saw some change in my countenance, +and spoke in a different tone from what I had ever heard her before.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I have been very imprudent, Mr Rayleigh, in carrying on our +acquaintance so long; but I am come to bid you farewell—probably for +ever!"</p> + +<p>I looked at the moistening eyes of the fair speaker—but steeled my +heart against her arts.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_632" id="Page_632">[Pg 632]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You have tried to break me in to the loss of your society by degrees; +you have not come here for three days."</p> + +<p>"I was busy—disagreeable things occurred at home—I had no opportunity. +But it is better as it is—we must now part, and I hope you will forget +me"——</p> + +<p>"Forget you! That is impossible. But I shall try to find methods of +enduring the separation."</p> + +<p>"I trust you will—I did not mean to part from you in unkindness: your +voice is altered—your eyes are changed"——</p> + +<p>"Because I am Edgar Ravenswood no longer; nor you Lucy Ashton. You made +me know, for the first time in my life, what it was to have a true and +absorbing attachment. I worshipped you with the fervour of a boy—I +loved you with the sincerity of a man. You played me off for the +gratification of your paltry triumph over affections that were too +valuable to be wasted on a flirt. I have heard of the assize ball—I +have heard of young Jeeks—I have unmasked you, and you are Betsy +Juffles."</p> + +<p>A glance—bright and sparkling, but instantly subdued—appeared for a +moment in her eyes, which now swam in tears.</p> + +<p>"Be it so, then. If I were to stay longer in this part of the world, I +might perhaps try to set myself right in your eyes; but as it is"——she +paused, and sighed.</p> + +<p>"You go then soon?"</p> + +<p>"I go to-morrow."</p> + +<p>There could no longer be a doubt. Mr Dobble had told me the Juffleses +removed on Saturday. I saw what a consummate actress I was opposed to, +and hardened my heart more and more. We had come by this time to the +gate into the field; I held it open for her as she passed, but said not +a word: I then rushed back to the place we had so often met, threw +myself on the ground, and cursed Poggses, Jeekses, and Juffleses, with +as much earnest devotion as my father himself could have required.</p> + +<p>But in the midst of all these maledictions rose up every now and then a +doubt—was she Betsy Juffles?—was she a flirt?—had she ogled young +Jeeks?—had she made a fool of me?—or was she indeed the bright pure +captivating Lucy Ashton I had known, the clever, the warm-hearted, the +good? Oh, if she was, and I had cast her off, and made myself a cold +iron-hearted brute, at the whisper of a wretch like Jeeks! I made a vow +that, if I found he had deceived me, I would finish the sacrifice +commenced on Monday, and tear him limb from limb. That night and many +nights—a month, a quarter of a year—passed in earnest consultations +with my father. I read, but no longer the Waverley Novels: I attended to +the farm—I was busy—useful; I felt I could get over Euclid if I chose, +but I hated him and all his propositions. The winter came: I worked +hard; I had found my deficiencies in conversation with my fascinating +deceiver—and the more my mind enlarged, the more it dwelt on the +thousand charms of thought and expression that had passed unheeded at +the time. I could recall every look, every smile, every tone; and when +the early leaves began to bud, when the grass was green again, and the +snow had disappeared from the highest hills, I had made up my mind that +without Betsy Juffles, flirt or no flirt, life was not worth having; +and I resolved to find her out, wherever she was, and tell her so. Mr +Dobble informed me that Mr Juffles resided in a bow-windowed villa near +Bushy Park, called Verbena Lodge; and thither I determined to go. My +father wished me to go to London to make arrangements for beginning the +study of the law, and in the early weeks of March I found myself in the +great city; but though I saw St Paul's, Westminster Abbey, and the +Temple and the Tower, with my bodily eyes, my thoughts dwelt for ever on +the bow-windowed villa near Bushy Park. I left the smoke, the noise, and +all chances of the wealth of modern Rome, behind me, and installed +myself in a comfortable lodging at Hampton Wick. I became one of the +rangers of Bushy Park, without the queen's signature to my appointment. +I passed and repassed Verbena Lodge, but saw nobody at the windows; I +meditated even on the expediency of making my way into the house, on +pretence of a message from Mr Dobble; when——once upon a time in the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_633" id="Page_633">[Pg 633]</a></span> +merry month of May, beneath a stately tree, musing and alone, I say, in +the heart of Bushy Park, the unmistakable figure—the unmistakable face +of Lucy Ashton, radiant, smiling, beautiful as of old.</p> + +<p>"I thought you wouldn't forget me quite," she said, and held out her +hand.</p> + +<p>"I was an ass—a fool!" I began.</p> + +<p>"But you have grown wiser now?" she enquired.</p> + +<p>"Yes, wise enough to despise balls, Jeekses, officers—and throw myself +at once and for ever at the feet of Lucy Ashton."</p> + +<p>"What will Betsy Juffles say?"</p> + +<p>"I hope she'll say <i>yes</i>."</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps I may answer for her—I don't see what right <i>she</i> has to +object to any thing that pleases <i>me</i>."</p> + +<p>"She's a charming girl, and I hope you will be guided by her in every +thing."</p> + +<p>"Such as?"—she asked with a smile that made us feel we had never +quarreled, never parted, but were at home in the Wilderness. I need not +tell the answer. I had got quit of my bashfulness on the subject of +Gretna Green and postchaises with a vengeance; and then and there I +suggested a trip to that delectable region, and scorned all the +objections she attempted to make about our respective fathers, and +family quarrels, and all the chimeras that disappear before the breath +of true love like mists before the sun. We met every day for a week, and +I so surprisingly improved in eloquence, that I should certainly have +forced my way to the woolsack if I had employed one half of it at the +bar. At all events, I succeeded in my object with Lucy Ashton so far, +that she agreed to accept me for better or worse; and then, for the +first time, it occurred to me, I ought to make my father acquainted with +the great step I intended to take in prosecution of my legal studies.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Edgar, don't write letters! half an hour's conversation will +explain every thing better than twenty reams of paper. Go down to +Rayleigh, and tell him all."</p> + +<p>"All what? you forget I have nothing to tell."</p> + +<p>"Tell him you are resolved to marry a girl who will make you happy."</p> + +<p>"And your family?" I said; "he can't endure the very name of Juffles."</p> + +<p>"Say nothing about them. Ask leave for me to go down and see him: I feel +sure he will like me, and forgive you all."</p> + +<p>I resolved to obey; and with infinite regret tore myself away, and +seated myself in the railway carriage. I was only to be absent two days; +but two days in such circumstances are a century. The bell rang, the +train began imperceptibly to move, when two tardy passengers jumped into +the coach; and in the first I recognised my friend, young Mr Jeeks. If I +had had it in my power, I would have left the carriage; for I was in no +frame of mind to be pestered by a popinjay.</p> + +<p>"Goodness me! how odd!" he said; "Quite a family party this is. My +cousin Mr Rayleigh, Mr Shookers—Mr Shookers, my cousin Mr Rayleigh. +It's quite pleasant to be among one's relations."</p> + +<p>The other man, answering to the name of Mr Shookers, bowed at this +introduction, and showed his teeth and a large portion of the gums in +the amplitude of his smile. He was a short stout man, with a very broad +face, which was still further distended by a forest of red whiskers on +each cheek. I took no notice of his salutation, but looked as +indignantly as I could at the insufferable Jeeks.</p> + +<p>"You don't seem very friendly, which is highly against the rules or +philosophy," he continued; "but p'r'aps you don't know much of your own +genealogical tree. My friend Shookers has studied heraldry, and knows +very well how nearly related we are."</p> + +<p>"Did you address any of your observations to me, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't I? to be sure I did. There was a certain Arabella Rayleigh in +<i>Temp. Geo. Prim.</i>, that means in the time of George I. or II., I forget +which—but it is ages ago—that married Martin Hicks, and had a +daughter, who married in <i>Temp.</i> of another of the <i>Geos</i> John Smith, +and had a daughter; which married James Brown, and had a daughter; which +married grandfather, Thomas Jeeks, in <i>Temp. Geo. Tert.</i>—which makes us +cousins; and that's the reason why father thinks it so hard your old +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_634" id="Page_634">[Pg 634]</a></span> +governor won't part with the rest of the lands. Isn't it too bad, Mr +Shookers?"</p> + +<p>"It seems very unfriendly in old Rayleigh to keep such a hold on the +property, when Mr Jeeks is willing to buy him off."</p> + +<p>"Are you aware, sir, in whose presence you allow yourself such vulgar +and insulting language? I am Mr Rayleigh's son."</p> + +<p>"Well, and I'm his cousin," interposed young Jeek; "and it's rather hard +if a man can't stand a word or two about his relations. I don't care +what Shookers may say about my cousin. I have too much philosophy to +care."</p> + +<p>Mr Shookers, however, took the hint, and made no further observation on +the subject. I looked out of the window, and endeavoured to abstract my +thoughts from the conversation of my companions; but it was impossible. +I kept my looks turned to the window; but I soon began to listen with +all my ears.</p> + +<p>"You'll find it uncommon hot at Singapore," said Mr Jeeks. "It's always +the dog-days there; but all the Juffleses can stand fire like reg'lar +bricks, as they are."</p> + +<p>"I like it," replied Mr Shookers; "and I am very much obligated to your +father."</p> + +<p>"He's a trump, is the old fellow—he's out of business himself—wound +all up at Canton; but his interest will do great things for you at +Singapore."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I consider my fortune made; and I am sure we shall both be grateful +to him till the end of time."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you're a lucky chap to get such a girl persuaded to go with you so +far! But I always said Betsy had all the pluck of the family."</p> + +<p>I half looked round—and Mr Jeeks favoured me with a wink, which implied +that he would keep the secret of my acquaintance with the Juffles's +family a secret from his friend.</p> + +<p>"She's full of spirit," replied Mr Shookers.</p> + +<p>"And so clever, too," added Mr Jeeks; "so sentimental and all that. No +end of walks in woods. I wonder she hasn't tired poor Amy to death. +She's taken to it as bad as ever lately again, and takes no end of +rambles in Bushy Park. You're a lucky fellow, Shookers; for I'm sure +she's thinking of you all the time she's pacing up and down among the +trees."</p> + +<p>"She had better take as much as she can of the trees," answered the +lover; "there's no great temptation to ramble in Singapore. She won't +have much more of it, for we must sail in the next ship."</p> + +<p>"I always said Betsy Juffles would make a good marriage after +all—though she's such a comical girl, I shouldn't be surprised if she +carried on her jokes to the very last, and pretended to care about some +of her old admirers even now."</p> + +<p>"She's very welcome," said Mr Shookers; "it's reg'lar good fun seeing +her trot out a spoony. How she makes us laugh, to be sure!"</p> + +<p>The two gentlemen seemed so overcome with the facetiousness of their +recollections, that they broke into a laugh that lasted nearly a mile.</p> + +<p>I felt somewhat in the situation of Scrub. "Could they be laughing at +me? Was I again the victim of a consummate actress?"</p> + +<p>"Old Juffles comes it handsome, I hope?" said Mr Jeeks.</p> + +<p>"I'm perfectly satisfied at all events," replied his friend. "He gives +me a trifle on the wedding-day, and makes a good settlement besides."</p> + +<p>"When is the wedding?"</p> + +<p>"It is fixed for this day month, the fourteenth of May. We embark on the +next day, and drop down to Gravesend. Aren't you asked to attend?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, we're all coming—governor and all! I don't see why my cousin +opposite should not get an invite too. But he has been looking out of +the window so hard, he hasn't heard a word of what we've said. Oh, of +course not!"</p> + +<p>"If you would like to come to it, sir," said Mr Shookers, who sat on the +same side with me, <i>vis-à-vis</i> with his friend, "I shall be very glad; +and I feel sure I can answer for Betsy too, sir."</p> + +<p>"Don't be too sure of that," interrupted Mr Jeeks. "It takes a deal of +philosophy to do things of the kind."</p> + +<p>"You seem to be asking me to some meeting, sir. May I beg you to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_635" id="Page_635">[Pg 635]</a></span> +understand, once for all, that I have nothing whatever to say to this +most contemptible poltroon, Mr Jeeks, nor to any of his friends."</p> + +<p>"I was going to ask you to my marriage, sir; and if you had been a +gentleman, or behaved as such"——</p> + +<p>I felt my hands clutching with an irrepressible desire to seize Mr +Shookers by the throat; but I had no time. Before he had an opportunity +to complete his speech, a sound, as of an avalanche and earthquake, all +in one, was heard—a shock, as of contending thunderbolts, shook the +train, and the last thing I saw was the head and body of Mr Jeeks +propelled, with the force and velocity of a rocket, against the +expansive countenance of Mr Shookers. My own forehead was dashed against +the opposite side, and I was insensible. There had been a collision +between two trains. I recollect no more.</p> + + +<h3>CHAPTER V.</h3> + +<p>When I recovered my consciousness, I was in my own room at Rayleigh +Court. I looked round, and gradually a recollection of all that had +happened dawned upon me. I thought of my journey down—the conversation +between Mr Jeeks and Shookers—the new light that had been thrown on the +behaviour of the once cherished, but now, for the second time, detested +Lucy Ashton; and I turned round on the bed, and wished to relapse into +insensibility for ever. A light step at the side of the couch attracted +my notice. "Thank God," I heard a voice say, "my boy will live!" It was +my father. I turned round, and opened my eyes. He took my hand, and +looked at me a long, long time, with an expression of interest and +affection that I had not seen for many years.</p> + +<p>"You are better, Henry, but don't exert yourself to speak. The slightest +effort may be fatal; therefore, for my sake, for all our sakes, be +quiet."</p> + +<p>He sat down, and put his finger on his lips.</p> + +<p>"In a day or two, now that your health has taken a favourable turn, you +will be able to able as many questions as you choose. In the mean time +be perfectly composed, and all will be well."</p> + +<p>My father was in mourning.</p> + +<p>"You are dressed in black," I whispered.</p> + +<p>"We have lost a relation," he answered, "a distant relation; and we must +pay him the compliment of a black coat—but hush! my dear boy; if you +utter another word I must leave the room."</p> + +<p>Under the care and uninterrupted attentions of my father, I rapidly got +well. In a week I could sit up; in a fortnight I moved into the library. +The sun was clear and warm. I sat at the open window, and looked out +upon the park, and beyond it to the tops of the trees in the Wilderness. +It gave me a blow that I could scarcely bear. I rose up and tottered to +the sofa. The weekly newspaper was lying on the table. I took it up, and +the first paragraph that met my eyes was this—"Married at Verbena +Lodge, on Wednesday last, Alfred Shookers, Esq. of Singapore, to +Elizabeth, third daughter of Jeremiah Juffles, Esq., late of Ryleigh +Grange."</p> + +<p>I thought I had banished her from my heart for ever; but the suddenness +of the announcement was too much for me. The paper fell from my hand, +and I fainted.</p> + +<p>"Poor boy, the change is too much for him!" I heard my father say. "He +must not leave his room again till he is stronger."</p> + +<p>I soon returned to my senses, and by a great effort recovered my spirits +at the same time. I laughed and talked, and listened well pleased to my +father's glowing picture of the possibility of our retrieving our +fortunes by a marriage. I promised him I would sacrifice myself on the +hymeneal altar for the good of my family; that I would marry the +ugliest, oldest widow he could fix on; that I was anxious to be a +benedict on favourable terms; and at all my protestations my father +laughed aloud, and patted me on the shoulder. I could not believe it was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_636" id="Page_636">[Pg 636]</a></span> +the same man who had snubbed and bullied me all my life. All of a sudden +he looked at his watch.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, my dear boy," he said, "I have engaged to dine with poor +Jeeks at five o'clock."</p> + +<p>"With whom?" I asked, shuddering at the sound of the name.</p> + +<p>"With our neighbour, poor Jeeks," he said. "He has had a terrible +dispensation, and is very much softened and improved."</p> + +<p>"What dispensation?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! I forgot: I was not to let you know. His poor son! he never +recovered the accident. Two or three of Mr Shookers's teeth fastened in +his head. He has been dead these five weeks: a most promising young +man."</p> + +<p>I was amazingly shocked at the intelligence.</p> + +<p>"Is it for him we are in mourning?" I enquired.</p> + +<p>My father nodded.</p> + +<p>"Then he was our cousin, after all?"</p> + +<p>"There certainly seems to have been a relationship in the <i>Temp.</i> of +some of the <i>Geos.</i>, as he called it. At all events the acknowledgment +of it does not cost much, and poor old Jeeks is delighted. Good-by. Take +care of yourself."</p> + +<p>And so saying, he left me to my cogitations.</p> + +<p>When once a favourable crisis, as it is called, takes place, the +amendment in the health of a man of twenty-two is very speedy. I was +aided also by seeing my father in such spirits. From day to day I picked +up strength, and at the end of a week I felt I could venture out.</p> + +<p>It was June again—the poet's leafy month of June—the anniversary of +the very day on which I had so heroically enacted the part of the Master +of Ravenswood against the pigs. I sauntered through the park; a fate was +upon me; and I directed my steps, by some secret impulse against which I +struggled in vain, to the Wilderness. "I may as well see the spot where +I was so deluded," I thought, and recognized every object—alas! with +what different feelings—as I drew near the trysting-tree.</p> + +<p>"It was there," thought, "I saw Amy for the first time, as she was +flying for protection; it was there I rushed forward to save her; it was +there, under the oak"——As I directed my eyes to the spot, my heart +leaped as if I had seen a spirit; for there, on the identical turf, with +a work-basket on her lap, sat Lucy Ashton, or rather Mrs Shookers.</p> + +<p>"So you've come at last!" she said. "Well, better late than never. +Here's your seat all ready. I have expected you a long time."</p> + +<p>"Are you a woman, or a fiend in human shape?" I began.</p> + +<p>"Oh! a fiend by all means, if you like; but what has kept you all this +time from Bushy Park? I am afraid your father won't give his consent; +you would have come to me sooner if he had. But come, sit down and tell +me all."</p> + +<p>So saying, she went on with her knitting. She was lovelier than ever. +She was dressed in a black silk gown, and wore a long black mantilla +over her head. I had never heard any thing so musical as her voice, nor +seen any thing so beautiful as her smile.</p> + +<p>"I shall certainly not be your dupe any longer," I said; "and, believe +me, the coquetry that might be captivating in Miss Elizabeth Juffles, is +simply disgusting in Mrs Shookers of Singapore."</p> + +<p>"Had not you better send out your opinion by the next India mail? Betsy +has sailed by this time, and will just get out in time to receive your +letter."</p> + +<p>"Then, if you are not Betsy Juffles, tell me, in Heaven's name, who and +what you are?"</p> + +<p>"I'm a young girl of nineteen, who promised once to accept the hand of a +young gentleman of the name of Rayleigh, who told me a hundred times he +did not care about my family—that it was myself only he cared for: and +he even went down to tell his father of the resolution he had taken, +without making enquiry as to either my birth, parentage, or education. A +wild young man he was, and rather changeable; for sometimes he would +have made sonnets to my eyebrows, if he had had the gift of verse; +sometimes he would have stabbed me to the heart, if he had had a dagger; +sometimes I was his adorable Lucy Ashton; then his tantalizing Miss +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_637" id="Page_637">[Pg 637]</a></span> +Poggs; then his hated Betsy; whereas, all the time, I was nothing but +the selfsame anonymous but fascinating creature, who under all these +names, and in spite of all these variations in his humour, loved him +very truly, and has no doubt whatever of being his wife."</p> + +<p>"You!—it would be safer to marry an incarnate demon!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, safer perhaps; but not so respectable! Come, do sit down; what's +the use of ceremony among friends and neighbours? Has your father +consented to the match?"</p> + +<p>"Do you think I asked him?"</p> + +<p>"Why not? you don't like Gretna Green better, do you?"</p> + +<p>"By no means—my intentions are changed."</p> + +<p>"But you forget that I am neither Betsy Juffles nor Miss Poggs; I am +nothing but Lucy Ashton."</p> + +<p>"I wish you had never been any thing else," I said, beginning to soften; +for who could resist such a voice and such eyes?</p> + +<p>"Well, I tell you I am <i>not</i> changed—will that not satisfy you? Imagine +that all that has passed since we parted here is a dream; that Verbena +Lodge has no existence, and that Mr Dobble is an ass! Won't you sit down +beside me, Edgar?"</p> + +<p>I threw myself upon the turf, and she went on.</p> + +<p>"I grant I have been a little capricious, Edgar, but there were reasons +for it, believe me."</p> + +<p>"What reason could there be for all these mysteries?"</p> + +<p>"Why, in the first place, it was very amusing; in the next place, you +did not know your own mind; in the next place, it was romantic; in the +next place, I wanted to try you if your love was really sincere."</p> + +<p>"And you found it wanting," I said in a tone of self-reproach.</p> + +<p>"Not a bit," she replied, with a look that showed she knew my heart a +great deal better than I did myself.</p> + +<p>"At this moment I believe your affection for me rises triumphant above +the horrors of Betsy Juffles or Miss Poggs; and so I think I shall +reward you at last with an open explanation of who I am."</p> + +<p>"No, dearest Lucy Ashton!" I said, taking her hand, "not before I swear +that it is yourself only I care for—that I love you more than words can +tell."</p> + +<p>"Then you'll marry the gal of course," said a voice; and at the same +moment the head of old Mr Jeeks was popped round from the other side of +the tree. I sprang to my feet in a moment; and beside Mr Jeeks, scarcely +able to restrain his laughter, stood my father.</p> + +<p>"Matters have certainly gone too far," he said in his usual grave and +sombre tones, "for either party to recede."</p> + +<p>"Nobody wants it, I'm sure," replied old Jeeks.</p> + +<p>"And I have no wish of the kind," returned my father.</p> + +<p>"Then, if the young ones are agreed, I don't see what there is to forbid +the bans," remarked Mr Jeeks.</p> + +<p>"The sooner the better," returned the other; while, in a state of +intense wonder, I looked at the speakers.</p> + +<p>"What is the meaning of all this?" I asked Lucy Ashton, who had returned +very sedulously to her knitting.</p> + +<p>"The truth is this, Henry," said my father; "my friend and relative, Mr +Jeeks, having lost his only son, has determined on making his eldest +daughter Harriet, the young lady before you, the heiress of his house. +By marrying her to you, the object of his ambition—the reunion, namely, +of the divided portions of our ancestral estate—is gained; and as it +appears you have no personal objection to the fair Harriet herself, I +don't see why the addition of the Rayleigh manors should make her +disagreeable."</p> + +<p>A month settled every thing to the satisfaction of all parties. Mr Jeeks +has settled himself in London; my father resides in Hartley Mead; and +every day my wife and I go over to see the progress of the alterations +and improvements we are making in the old house, which we are restoring +to its original grandeur under the superintendence of Mr Barry.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IRELAND_THE_LANDLORD_AND_TENANT_QUESTION" id="IRELAND_THE_LANDLORD_AND_TENANT_QUESTION"></a>IRELAND.—THE LANDLORD AND TENANT QUESTION.<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a></h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_638" id="Page_638">[Pg 638]</a></span></p> + +<p>Unfortunately for the cause of truth, and the welfare of that country, +Ireland has lately become the stock in trade of every political writer: +"monster pamphlets" and "monster paragraphs" succeed each other with +astonishing rapidity—all alike remarkable for the "monstrous" +assertions they contain, and for the "monstrous" ignorance they display +of the subject on which they profess to enlighten us.</p> + +<p>English tourists, Scotch agents, and German adventurers, flock like +birds of prey, and swarm over the devoted country. They go there, not +for the purpose of enquiring into the real state of things, or the real +causes of the admitted misery of the people; but in order to write what +will be most productive to themselves—not with the philanthropic or +patriotic motive of endeavouring to elucidate a subject of so much +importance; but with the determination to compile as many pages as they +can, in as short a given period as possible. They draw the most absurd +caricatures; and, pandering to the prevailing public opinion, they +relate only what tends to strengthen it in its errors, and to misdirect +and mislead those who consult them for information, or rely on them as +authorities. Their numerous errors are detected and pointed out by the +newspapers, according as they tell against the political interests of +their respective parties. There is but one topic on which they are all +agreed—that is, in their unanimous and unsparing abuse of the Irish +landlords; and, however much they may be condemned as disentitled to +belief on other subjects, on this their assertions are taken, by all +parties, as authorities "true as holy writ."</p> + +<p>It requires no witch to tell us that Ireland is in a condition in which +she ought not to be; but it does require some industry, and an intimate +knowledge of the habits and character of the people, to assign this +state of things to the proper causes. In their love for the marvellous, +most writers on Ireland have overlooked facts; they have not +condescended to enquire into particulars, or to use that unquestionable +information which is actually in existence. We therefore propose to +supply this omission, and to state the case of the landlord and tenant +question as it really is; and, although many acts of oppression and +harshness may have been perpetrated by individuals, we trust we shall be +able to show, from authentic documents, that nothing can be more unjust +than the exaggerated charges brought against the present Irish landlords +as regards the exorbitance of their rents, and nothing more fallacious +than to attribute the misery of the people to the want of tenure, or due +security in the occupation of their lands. The last census, taken by the +police under the direction of government, gives us the actual rental of +Ireland as returned by the occupiers themselves. This information is +therefore derived from a source on which little doubt can be thrown; and +although we may justly suspect (from the desire of the Irish peasant to +make the most of his miseries) that the rent may have been in many +instances exaggerated, we may rest perfectly assured that in no instance +was it underrated. Founded on the results of this enquiry, a very useful +and instructive sheet (entitled <i>Ireland at a Glance</i>) has been compiled +and published, in which, amongst other statistical information, the +average rent of land in each county is given, and on the correctness of +which we may safely rely. Had the conduct of the Irish aristocracy, some +forty or fifty years ago, attracted but a small portion of the public +attention that has latterly been bestowed upon it, no doubt great good +would have been effected. <i>Then</i>, unquestionably, the landlord could do +almost any thing; <i>then</i>, no doubt, he could with impunity set the law +at defiance. The Catholic, degraded as he was, durst not complain; but +the establishment of the petty sessions courts, and the agitation which +preceded emancipation, altered the matter altogether. The Catholic +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_639" id="Page_639">[Pg 639]</a></span> +Association employed active and intelligent attorneys. Those men were +everywhere: the petty sessions courts were regularly attended by them; +for the slightest transgression of the law the magistrate was hauled up; +and the poor man was shown that he had only to bring his case fairly +before the tribunals to obtain justice. While the Association existed, +he was fully protected at its expense: by the time it was dissolved, he +had acquired a thorough knowledge of his own rights; and he had ready +agents in the country attorneys, who were always at hand, and always but +too happy, for their own interest, to undertake any cause in which they +anticipated success. This, so far as the administration of justice was +concerned, the publicity of their proceedings, and the unwillingness of +men to expose themselves to actions for the misconduct of some members +of their body, effectually checked magisterial delinquency: where any +violation of the law did occur, there could be no doubt as to the +punishment.</p> + +<p>Had the conduct of the Irish proprietors (in their character of +landlords) been taken to task at the same period, no question they were +deeply to be condemned. <i>Then</i>, and always before, the practice of the +landlord was—to lease large tracts at an easy rent to the most solvent +person he could find, or to set in copartnership, (that is, by creating +a joint tenancy in all the inhabitants of any particular town-land, +making the rich accountable for the debt of the poor.) His only object +was to secure his income; so that was accomplished, he cared little for +the welfare of the inhabitants, or the cultivation of the estate. The +peace came—prices fell,—the middlemen not occupying, were in most +cases unable to pay their rents when they could not enforce them from +those in possession, whom they had ruined by their extortion; the +consequence was, they were too happy to abandon their interests, and +leave the landlord to deal with the paupers they had created. In a few +years after the peace, the middleman system had ceased to exist; the +owner of the soil, coming into immediate contact with the tenantry, saw +the monstrous injustice and the destructive tendencies of the +copartnership plan—and it was discontinued. Yet such is the passion for +legislation, that both systems are now about to be disinterred, to be +taken from the oblivion to which their own iniquities long since +consigned them, and to be set up in the preamble of an act of +Parliament, in order that Mr Sharman Crawfurd may have the opportunity +of again prostrating them by legislative enactments. We are certain +that, for the last ten years, no instance can be shown in which any +landlord set, or any tenant took, land on determinable leases, for the +purpose of subletting; or any single instance in which the landlords +practised, or permitted, the copartnership system on their estates; and +yet the public time is to be wasted, and the public attention to be +occupied, by the introduction of laws to restrain practices which are no +longer in operation. It is true, some of those leases where the +middleman held on very easy terms, and was able to pay the rent himself +during the great depression, are still in existence; but they are daily +dropping out: and it is the treatment of those properties, when they +come upon the owners' hands, that has latterly attracted so much +attention. From 1818, a total revolution in the management of land took +place in Ireland: the proprietors became in most instances the managers +of their own estates; and, as each year advanced, the necessity of +attending strictly to their duties became more manifest to them. From +1830 to 1843, more was done, and is still continuing to be done, in +improving or in endeavouring to improve, the condition of the people, +than was ever done before. The large owners of land employed Scotch +stewards to instruct their tenantry in the most improved system of +husbandry; and their neighbours profited by the example. Green-cropping +increased in a most astonishing degree; agricultural societies were +formed in almost every county; and the country was advancing steadily +and rapidly in the march of prosperity, when the baneful agitation again +started into existence. To disconnect the peasantry from the landlords, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_640" id="Page_640">[Pg 640]</a></span> +who could not be induced to join in the senseless and mischievous cry +for Repeal, now became the object of the agitators: the most unjust +charges were made against the gentry; and even their exertions to +promote the growth of turnips, or to teach the people the proper mode of +cultivation, were turned into ridicule and treated with contempt, in the +public speeches of some of the Roman Catholic bishops. The floodgates of +abuse were thrown open; the most incredible acts of violence and +atrocity were imputed to them; generalities were dealt in—except in a +few instances, in which it was fondly believed the facts would have +borne out the assertions. But when investigation fully exonerated the +accused from the charges brought against them, still the agitators +persevered: the accusations being general, it was not the duty of any +individual to contradict them. From their frequent reassertion, the +English press accorded them credit; the English newspapers became the +advocates of those they believed to be oppressed; no story was too +ridiculous to obtain insertion; anonymous correspondents heaped obloquy +on the best and most pains-taking landlords; while any attempt at their +vindication was sure to be discountenanced—a tyrannical act of one man +was seized on, and blazoned forth as proof positive of the guilt of all.</p> + +<p>The conduct of the Irish landlords was assailed just at the time when it +was commencing to become meritorious; and they were almost literally +deprived (by public opinion) of all control, just at the period when +(for the first time) they were exercising the influence which their +position ought to give them, for the benefit and the advantage of the +people.</p> + +<p>From the manner in which the laws regulating the connexion between +landlord and tenant in Ireland are spoken of, and from the frequent +demands made for their alteration and improvement, one would naturally +suppose that they differed essentially from those which regulate the +connexion between the same parties in this country. Yet such is not the +fact: so far as the law goes, it is the same on both sides the Channel. +By law, the Irish landlord can only eject a tenant holding by lease +after he owes a year's rent; and then the tenant has six months for +redemption. He can only put out a tenant-at-will by giving him six +months' notice, (the six months to expire on or before the day on which +the tenancy commenced;) and afterwards by ejecting him, if he refuse to +give up possession. He can only distrain after the rent becomes due. +Those powers the law also gives to the English landlord: so far as +legislative enactments go, the landlords of both countries stand +precisely in the same position. But the English proprietor can do much +which the Irish one durst not attempt: he may prevent the fences on his +estate from being torn down, or the trees and hedge-rows he has planted +from being cut: he may prevent his land from being damaged by bad +husbandry, or a succession of the same crops being taken from it until +it is rendered useless;—all this he may do by enforcing his covenants, +and no one blames him. An Irish landlord may put the most stringent +clauses in his leases; but he cannot use the power which their +enforcement would give him: public opinion, (always in favour of the +delinquent,) and the dread of the assassin, restrain him. The late Mr +Hall let a farm in fine condition: the tenant, contrary to his +engagements, tore up the land, burned it, and set it in con-acre. The +unfortunate gentleman endeavoured to prevent this violation of an +agreement. He went to the ground and threatened to put his covenant in +force; and, for doing so, he was murdered in the open day in the +presence of numbers of people: the assassins were allowed quietly to +walk off; and it was only when one of the hired murderers, tempted by a +large reward, peached on his accomplices in crime, that any of them were +brought to justice.</p> + +<p>There is an act of Parliament in force in Ireland for the prevention of +burning land, which imposes heavy penalties; yet it cannot stop this +mischievous practice—and why? Because, by having recourse to it, the +tenant (until he quite exhausts the soil) can raise better crops with +more ease to himself; it is a much less troublesome process than that of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_641" id="Page_641">[Pg 641]</a></span> +collecting manure from the scourings of his ditches or his moor land, or +burning lime; and it enables him to spend the winter months in idleness +and amusement, when he ought to be providing for his next year's crops. +If an English tenant cannot meet his engagements, he surrenders his land +as a matter of course: if an Irish tenant be turned out, even after +owing many years' rent, he considers himself an ill-used man, (and so do +his neighbours too;) and no man complains so loudly of the extortion of +his landlord as he who pays no rent at all. The Irish landlord has the +advantage of being able to bring his ejectment at the courts of +quarter-sessions, and at less expense than it can be done in this +country, provided the rent be under £50 a-year. But this may be +considered, and with justice, of equal benefit to the tenant: if he +redeem within the six months allowed by law, the costs the landlord can +put upon him will only amount to £2, 10s; whereas, with the superior +courts, it would be at least £14. Yet some of the patriotic Irish +journals have required, as an improvement in the law, that ejectment at +quarter-sessions should be abolished, and that the landlord should, in +every case, be sent to the superior courts for redress. To make such an +alteration in the law would be unjust towards the landlord—as it would +compel him to expend a large sum in regaining possession of his land, in +addition to the loss of his rent, (if he had a pauper to deal with;) and +it would be injurious to the interests of the tenant, as t would give a +tyrannical and oppressive landlord the power of overwhelming the poor +but honest man, who only wanted time to redeem, by the load of law-costs +he would be enabled to put upon him.</p> + +<p>Having shown that the law gives the Irish landlord no power incompatible +with justice, or unnecessary for the due maintenance of his rights—in +fact that, in respect of it, he is much more restricted than the +mercantile man—we are at a loss to see how the law can be altered, and +at the same time the rights of property be preserved. It may be said, +the Irish tenant has no claim at the termination of his lease for any +improvements he may have effected; neither has the English tenant, if he +possess a lease. Although, in point of fact, so far as the small Irish +farmer is concerned, this is quite an ideal grievance; for he never +makes any improvement, or if he does, and pays his rent, he is never +disturbed—still an amendment in the law in this respect, may stimulate +to industry, and may be effected with advantage to all parties. Against +the gentlemen farmers, injustice of this kind may sometimes be +perpetrated, and therefore legislation on the subject would be of use; +but the poor man who meets his engagements, is never, unless under +extraordinary circumstances, removed; and where such is the case, he is +almost invariably amply remunerated. Solitary instances of contrary +conduct pursued towards him, may no doubt be adduced; but they are too +few in any way to account for the present state of dissatisfaction so +universally prevalent.</p> + +<p>The Irish landlord, then, has no power which he can legally employ for +the oppression of his tenant, which is not possessed by all other +British landlords. If he violate the law, of course the legal tribunals +will afford redress. And are we to be told that that redress would not +be sought for; that the wardens and priests, the leading agitators, or +the people themselves, would not report their sufferings; and that the +power, and influence, and money of the Association, would not be used in +their defence?</p> + +<p>The outcry raised by Mr O'Connell and his supporters against the +landlords, on account of the number of persons "turned out, and left to +die by the road-side,"<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> will, we have no doubt, turn out (if +possible) to be more unfounded than even his other assertions. The +present Commission has ample powers to ascertain this fact at least: and +we will venture to assert, that not one instance of starvation will have +been proven before it; and that out of the hundreds of thousands who +were reported to have been mercilessly turned adrift to perish at the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_642" id="Page_642">[Pg 642]</a></span> +backs of ditches, forty-nine fiftieths will be found well and hearty, +and in the occupation of those lands from which they were said to have +been expelled. That ejectment-processes were served, and decrees +obtained, which, if followed up and enforced, would have put many +persons out of possession, we do not deny; but nine-tenths of those are +compromised by the payment of part of the rent before the day of trial +comes on, and of the decrees obtained, the great majority are never put +in execution. Accurate information on this point can easily be obtained +from the sheriffs and clerks of the peace for the different counties; +those officers have been amongst the first witnesses examined before +Lord Devon. We would only ask the public to suspend its judgment, and +those well-meaning but mistaken individuals, who, though they reject Mr +O'Connell and the priests as authorities on most other subjects, take +their assertions on this as proven facts, to reserve their indignation +and wrath until the result of this testimony can be known. +Ejectment-processes are the most effective and the cheapest means by +which the landlord can enforce the payment of the rent due, and as such +they are generally had recourse to: before they can be acted on, <i>at +least three months</i> must have elapsed after the year's rent (which is +the least sum they can be issued for) has become due.</p> + +<p>Perhaps nothing has contributed more to foment, certainly nothing has +assisted more to continue, the agrarian disturbances in Ireland, than +the statements, made so flippantly by journalists and pamphleteers, of +the great excess of rent exacted in Ireland over that paid by the +English tenantry. Those writers have invariably assumed the truth of the +assertions made in this particular; yet nothing can be further from the +fact.</p> + +<p>There is no statistical account of England recently published, that we +can discover, which would give us any correct idea of the present +average rent of land in this country;<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> but we think, from all the +information we have been able to acquire, by enquiries directed to +competent and well-informed persons, that it cannot be set down at less +than 25s. an acre. From the last Irish census we learn, that Ireland +contains 20,399,608 statute acres, and that the estimated rental is +L12,715,478—yielding a trifle over 12s. as the average rent.<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> When +it is taken into consideration that the English tenant pays +tithes—which, in many localities, amount to more than the entire +average rent produced by Irish ground; that he pays the poor-rates, and +that he is heavily taxed with turnpikes and other local assessments: and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_643" id="Page_643">[Pg 643]</a></span> +that the Irish tenant pays no tithe, and only half the poor-rates; that +no turnpikes exist, except solitary ones in the neighbourhood of cities +or very large towns; that, in fact, the only tax he pays is the county +cess, varying in different counties from tenpence to one and sixpence +the acre half-yearly; and that this assessment is being considerably +reduced by the new grand-jury enactments, under which the towns and +gentlemen's houses are valued and taxed;—when, we say, all those things +are taken into consideration, and besides, that the land in Ireland is +naturally better and more productive than the English soil, we think we +have satisfactorily disposed of one grave charge against the Irish +landlords; and that we have shown that it cannot be the exorbitance of +the pecuniary burdens under which he groans, that causes the vast +difference between the social condition of the Irish and the English +occupier.</p> + +<p>It will no doubt be said—"Ah, but the English tenant is housed, and his +farm kept in repair, by the landlord, while the Irishman is obliged to +do all this himself!" This is true; but certainly the outlay of the +Irish tenant on his farm, makes but a small addition to his other +engagements. Gates and fences he has, comparatively speaking, none; and, +if they be erected for him, they are soon suffered to go to ruin. He +requires few outhouses; for in the poor and disturbed districts (and it +is those which we are now attending to) he uses his domicile as a +receptacle for his pig and his cow, as a matter of choice; we say as a +matter of choice—for, if he had the inclination, <i>all</i> writers admit he +has abundance of unoccupied time to construct habitations for them. Now, +though it is a just cause of regret that we do not see better homesteads +and better fences in Ireland, still we cannot admit that the tenant's +being obliged to keep such as exist in repair, can be any great hardship +in a pecuniary point of view, as he lays out scarcely any thing on them: +he does not even expend his own labour on their improvement; and his +time, which might be profitably occupied in this way, is wasted in +useless idleness, in swelling the train, or cheering the ferocious +sentiments, of some mercenary agitator.</p> + +<p>Having shown, as correctly as it is possible to do, the relative amount +of rents paid in England and in Ireland, let us compare the amount of +rents paid in each of the Irish provinces. For this purpose we shall +take a maritime and an inland county from each.</p> + + <table summary="Amount of rents paid in each of the Irish provinces" border="1" cellpadding="5"> +<tr><th>Maritime.</th><th>£</th><th>s.</th><th>d.</th><th>Inland.</th><th>£</th><th>s.</th><th>d.</th></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Ulster—Down, average rent,</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">16</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">Tyrone, average rent, </td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">14</td><td align="right">6</td></tr> +<tr><td>Munster—Clare,do. do.</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">11</td><td align="right">0</td><td>Tipperary,do. do.</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">17</td><td align="right">8½</td></tr> +<tr><td>Leinster—Wexford, do.</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">14</td><td align="right">0</td><td >Longford, do. do.</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">12</td><td align="right">3</td></tr> +<tr><td>Connaught—Mayo, do.</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">8</td><td align="right">6</td><td>Roscommon, do.</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">13</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>It is well known that the quality of the land in the north of Ireland is +far inferior to that in either of the other provinces: yet we see, in +the maritime counties, that the rich and fertile lands of Clare and +Wexford are let much cheaper than the northern counties; and that Mayo, +inhabited by unquestionably the poorest and most miserable population in +Ireland, is rented at nearly half the amount paid by the independent +yeomanry of Down; while, amongst the inland counties, the splendid +plains of Roscommon, and the productive lands of Longford, yield less +income than the cold and, comparatively speaking, sterile soil of +Tyrone. Now, it is not too much (indeed it is under the mark) to say, +that <i>two acres</i> in any of those counties we have quoted, in Leinster, +Munster, or Connaught, will feed more cattle, and grow more corn, than +<i>three acres</i> in either of the northern ones; and yet the tenantry in +the north, who pay those comparatively high rents, are contented, and +the landlords are considered good.<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> Those statements are founded not +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_644" id="Page_644">[Pg 644]</a></span> +on our own opinions, but on incontrovertible facts; and, after having +read them, we would ask any dispassionate man if the disturbed condition +of the west and south of Ireland can be, with any justice, attributed to +the rents imposed by the landlords. In the north, where the highest +rents are charged, the people are well housed and well clothed, the +ground well tilled, and the rents as well paid as in any part of +England. Here, if a tenant wishes to dispose of his right in even a +tenancy-at-will, he gets some ten or twelve years' purchase for it; and +the answers to Lord Devon's enquiries were, in many instances, that the +interference of the commission was not required. While in the south and +west, from whence the loudest complaints against the landowners proceed; +where the peasant exists in rags, and the gentlemen in a state of +semi-starvation; where the people are idle, and their ground untilled; +where squalid misery offends the eye and merciless murders shock the +feelings; where the terror of the assassin supersedes the power of the +landlord, and protects the tenant against all law; there, in the +counties so overwhelmed with poverty and debased by crime, the lands +are held on terms (the relative value being taken into consideration) by +<i>the half easier</i> than in the prosperous and peaceable province of +Ulster.</p> + +<p>Dublin, Limerick, Meath, and Tipperary, do average a trifle more than +the northern counties; but the one is the metropolitan county, and the +quality of the land in the others is so superior to any in England or +Ireland, that even at the small advance of two shillings an acre, they +may justly be considered as more cheaply rented than any other counties.</p> + +<p>To understand a people properly, their national character must be +attentively studied; and this can only be done by a long residence and a +close connexion with them. We cannot therefore be much surprised, that +those who undertake to write on a country which they have never seen, or +to prescribe remedies for the defects in the social condition of a +people amongst whom they have never resided, should be led into grievous +mistakes, and that they should be unsafe guides to direct the enquiries +of others. Employment, hard work, large wages, and good living, form the +objects of the Englishman and the Scotchman's ardent desire; while +coarse food, bad lodging, and half clothing, are quite agreeable to the +Irishman, if they be combined with independence—in other words, if by +using them he may avoid labour, and enjoy those amusements to which he +is passionately addicted, and in which he indulges unrestrainedly. We +firmly believe, that if a choice of roast beef and loaf bread, +accompanied by the labour necessary to earn them, were offered to "Pat" +at home, or potatoes and milk, with liberty to frequent the horse-races, +cock-fights, and dances, in his neighbourhood, he would unhesitatingly +accept the latter. This may seem strange to an Englishman; but there is +no accounting for taste. That the potato is coarse food, cannot be +doubted; that it is wholesome, is abundantly proved by the stalwart men +who subsist on it, and by the ruddy health of the chubby, merry urchins +who have, perhaps, never tasted any thing else. Pity it is that the +former should be so negligent of, or so indifferent to, their own +advantage; or that the latter should have been (until lately) suffered +to grow up in that ignorance which almost secures a continuance in the +same courses which proved the bane and misfortune of their fathers. No +peasant in Europe devotes so much of his time to amusement as does the +Irishman. Go to the places of public amusement, or to the fairs and +markets, in the busiest and most hurried seasons, and how many thousands +will you see, who have no earthly business there but to meet their +friends, to laugh and to chat, and (before Father Mathew reformed them) +to drink and to fight!</p> + +<p>To suppose, as some influential writers here do, that there is no +alternative between the possession of land and absolute starvation, is +one of those imaginary fictions often conjured up by those who wish to +indulge in what they believe to be powerful, and wish to be pathetic, +appeals to the feelings; but it betrays great ignorance of the subject +on which they propound their opinions. The condition of the rural +labourer, constantly employed by the gentleman or wealthy farmer, is +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_645" id="Page_645">[Pg 645]</a></span> +generally <i>much</i> superior to that of the small landholder. Those men are +bound by agreements which they must fulfill—they work continually; and +although their wages are in some instances nominally very low, and in +all much lower than we could wish, still their allowances—in +house-rent, grazing, and con-acre—enable them not only to live +comfortably, but sometimes to amass considerable sums of money. You +always see good pigs, and very often more than two good cows, at their +doors. It may not be amiss to say, that, in <i>all</i> instances, they get +the feeding of those cows for a rent varying from one guinea per year, +when the nominal wages are low, to three shillings a-year, when tenpence +a-day is given; thus, at the very highest price, getting for three +shillings that accommodation for which Mr Cobden charges his workman +twelve pounds! Yet the great object of those men is to get land and +become farmers, although they almost invariably suffer by the change. +They were before compelled to work to meet their engagements; having +become their own masters, they in very many instances neglect their +business, and devote the time which ought to be employed in the +cultivation of their farms, to the discussion of politics and to the +attendance on popular assemblies.</p> + +<p>To say that the Irish are unemployed, not from inclination, but from +necessity, is absurd;<a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> this may sometimes be the case in the towns +where the worst class of agricultural labourers reside—men who will not +be employed while others can be had. A stranger meets able-bodied men +walking about; he is told, and he sees, that there are no resident +gentry in the neighbourhood to afford them work; he compassionates their +condition; concocts a paragraph, and imputes the misery he witnesses to +absenteeism. Let them accompany the idler to his home, and inspect his +farm: he will find, out of a holding of from three to four Irish acres, +perhaps an acre on which there was no attempt made at all to raise a +crop, independent of untilled headlands, amounting to at least fifth of +the ground under cultivation in each field. Why does he not employ +himself on this land? If he has a lease, there can be no excuse; but +even supposing him but tenant-at-will, it can in this instance be no +justification. The land unused is not waste land, requiring an +expenditure of labour and money, for which he might afterwards reap no +advantage from the cupidity of his landlord. This is no such land: it is +good, sound, arable land—perhaps the very best he has; and waste, +purely and solely for the want of expending on it the labour necessary +to prepare it for crop. He pays for it—yet he won't work it: he +complains of want of employment, and he walks about with plenty to +engage him beneficially for his own interests at home: he takes +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_646" id="Page_646">[Pg 646]</a></span> +con-acre, for which he pays high, while he could raise his food on his +own farm, if he only took the trouble of collecting manure, or devoting +his time to its improvement.</p> + +<p>Adjoining mountains and bogs, where the poorest class of the population +generally reside, and where there is abundance of ground attached +rent-free to each farm, and capable of being rendered profitable at a +very little expense—in fact, without any other outlay than the labour +required to open drains, and level it—we see scarcely any efforts made +at improvement. A Scotchman, or an Englishman, would consider the +possession of the land rent-free for three or five years, according to +the difficulty of the undertaking, as a sufficient recompense for his +trouble; although his time is much more valuable, on account of the +higher rate of wages paid him. But an Irishman will consider a +twenty-one years' lease as too short a tenure, to justify him in +expending the time which he wastes gossiping with his neighbours, or +sunning himself at the backs of the ditches, in the profitable +employment of adding to what ought to be, if he had industry, his +already too small holding. Here is a case in which we conceive +legislation might operate much good. If every man who reclaimed ground +which did not before pay rent, was guaranteed its possession by law for +ten years after the first crop, at a nominal rent of one shilling the +acre, it might be an inducement to the tenant to labour: it could be no +loss to the landlord, as, if still left in a state of nature it would be +useless to him, and after the expiration of the time guaranteed the +tenant as remuneration for his trouble, the benefit would be his +exclusively. In the case of a tenant-at-will, an arrangement could +easily be effected, by which the tenant, if removed from the farm before +the expiration of the stipulated term, might receive a just and +reasonable compensation for the improvements which he had effected, or +an allowance for the loss of the crops which, had he remained, he would +still have been entitled to: and thus, without any government outlay, +encouragement would be given for the reclamation of that part of the +Irish waste lands which would be worth the trouble or expense of +cultivation.</p> + +<p>We are gravely told, in well-rounded and high-sounding sentences, that +"in Ireland famine urges men to take land at any price—they must have +it or die;" and that, "when a piece of ground falls out of lease, it +becomes a bone of contention amongst some twenty or thirty miserable +competitors, who outbid each other, to the great delight and profit of +the ruthless and exulting landlord, and to their own utter ruin." If any +one takes time to reflect on what he reads in every day's newspaper, he +must at once perceive that this statement can have no foundation in +fact; if a landlord remove a tenant for non-payment of rent, he finds it +difficult to get another to succeed him, (in the disturbed districts it +is almost impossible to get any man to do so.) Such is the dread of +taking land, from the occupation of which others have been expelled, +even on account of owing the most unreasonable arrears, that farms +frequently remain waste for years, without any person daring to bid for +them. Now if public opinion, and the dread of the punishment which is +sure to follow, operate so powerfully in favour of the really blamable +person, as to keep his land untenanted, how much more influence will +they possess in restraining any man from seeking to obtain the land of +another, if that other be unobjectionable in character, solvent in +circumstances, and still in possession? Such a thing is never heard of. +The landlord, if he were bad enough, might try to induce men to act so; +but he could not effect it. If death pursue the man who undertakes to +rent unoccupied ground, as in most instances it does, how much more +certain would it be to overtake him whose conduct was the means of +driving from his home a solvent and industrious person? If a landlord +distrain for rent, he can find no bidders for the crops or cattle; how +much more difficult will it be for him to obtain bidders for land? We +have frequently heard the bad cultivation of the land in Ireland +attributed to the constant shifting of the tenantry: we are quite +convinced the result of the enquiry now instituted will show how +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_647" id="Page_647">[Pg 647]</a></span> +unfounded this supposition is, and that the shifting or removal of the +tenants, will be found to be a matter of much more rare occurrence in +Ireland than in England. That scarcity and want are periodically +experienced in Ireland, is but too true. Those visitations (which, thank +God, are not frequent) arise from the failure of the potato crops, and +generally occur in those districts most densely populated, and +consequently worst tilled; in fact, they are greatly to be attributed to +the neglect of the people themselves; who will not take the trouble of +using those precautions against rot, which ought always to be adopted on +a moist soil or in a mountainous country: but to talk of persons dying +in Ireland of starvation is absurd, and bespeaks an utter ignorance of +the national character. There are poor-houses; and besides, in Ireland, +the hungry man may enter without hesitation, and share without apology +in the meal of his more wealthy neighbour; and lodging, humble though it +be, is never denied to the houseless or the destitute. Those who accuse +Irishmen, of any class or party, of hard-heartedness or inhumanity, had +better look at home. In <i>their</i> country we never hear of verdicts of +"death from starvation" being returned by coroners' juries; or of the +weak and the unfortunate being compelled to seek for shelter in the +hollows of decayed trees, or to sleep like brute beasts in the open +parks, exposed to the cold and the inclemency of winter. The gentry may +neglect their duties in other respects: as regards the performance of +charitable acts, they are faultless; the middleman may be exacting—but +he is hospitable; and the men who make those groundless charges, would +be not a little astonished did they see the multitudes that are still +fed (poor-laws notwithstanding) at the <span class='smcap'>big</span> House of the Irish gentleman. +We have said that failures of the crops, and scarcity, occur much more +frequently in the densely populated parts of the country than in any +others, and that those failures arise in a great measure from the +neglect of the people themselves. Parts of Mayo, Galway, and Donegal, +are the localities most subject to those visitations. In those counties +the most miserable class of the peasantry exist; and nothing, we think, +can prove more conclusively, that their misfortunes and their +wretchedness cannot with justice be attributed to the misconduct of +their landlords, but rather to their own, <i>than the undisputed fact, +that in those districts in which the people are worst off, the land is +set at the lowest rent; and that where the greatest quantity of waste +land is unreclaimed, and where that which is under cultivation is worst +managed and least attended to, there, invariably, is to be found the +greatest amount of unemployed labourers</i>. It may be said they know no +better mode of cultivation than what they practise. They do; those are +the very men who go, and have from their youth been in the habit of +going, to England and Scotland, where they see the benefits arising from +a good system of agriculture. They fully appreciate, but won't practise +it. The truth is—and this is one of the great sources of Irish +misery—that by the constant agitation of which (under one shape or +another) he is almost always the victim, the Irish peasant is induced to +consider himself as the worst treated of God's creatures; by it he is +kept in a continual state of dependence on anticipated events, which +leads him to expect the amelioration of his condition by means of +political convulsions, rather than by patient and persevering industry.</p> + +<p>We need scarcely say how much the sympathy expressed for his situation, +and the abuse heaped on his landlord, tend to confirm the Irish peasant +in his bad habits. Articles from the English press, and not extracts +from the gospel, form the texts of the sermons which are delivered for +his instruction: the object of the preacher is not to remove his +prejudices, or to eradicate his faults; but to excite his animosities, +and to extract his shillings: when peace and mercy are inculcated, it is +not because they are commanded, but because they may be expedient.</p> + +<p>In those parts in which there are no resident gentry to employ them, to +set them an example, and to enforce a respect for the laws, the +peasantry indulge in idleness, and engage in politics. They work at home +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_648" id="Page_648">[Pg 648]</a></span> +only when it suits their convenience or inclination, and from others +they can only procure work (at prices for which they will work) in the +harvest and spring. In summer, after they have planted their crops, and +made their turf, and set the milk of their cow, (if they have one,) they +shut up their houses, send their wives and their families to beg, and +betake themselves to England or Scotland to reap the harvest. There, +until of late years, they earned the almost incredible sums of £16, +sometimes of £20—latterly, competition and other causes have reduced +the amount to, on the average, between £4 and £5. Out of this, on their +return, they pay the rent of the con-acre which they have taken, while a +third of their own holding is waste. With the balance and their oats +they pay the landlord, in those cases in which he is so fortunate as to +get any rent; and having secured an abundance of potatoes, they sit down +to enjoy themselves for the winter. During the night they play cards for +geese, turkeys, and herrings; attend dances, where they are enrolled and +sworn into secret societies; and devote some hours to the wrecking of +the houses, or the castigation of the persons, of those who are +obnoxious to them. In the daytime, you find them at the places of public +resort or amusement, or lazily and listlessly strolling about those +miserable abodes—in whose floors you frequently find stepping-stones to +carry you from the entrance to the space occupied by the fire, and +before whose doors are those stagnant pools and heaps of filth, so +disgusting to every traveller. Could they not remove those? Is it the +landlord's fault that they don't? Does he wish their houses to be in +such a condition, or encourage them to keep their own persons and those +of their children in such a state of dirt and nastiness? Not at all. He +does his best to prevail on them to adopt a different system; but his +interference in their domestic matters is always looked on as an +unjustifiable intrusion; in short, as a sort of minor grievance, and a +petty act of oppression. Perhaps it is to be attributed to their +poverty? Water, at least, is cheap and abundant in Ireland.</p> + +<p>Such is a true and accurate account of the "tenor of those men's lives" +and habits; and it is a continuance of this state of things that those +who attack the Irish landlords so indiscriminately are, in reality, +advocating.</p> + +<p>Now, let us suppose that a tract of two thousand acres, set perhaps by +the grandfather of the preset owner, and inhabited by a class of +tenantry such as we have described, comes on a landlord's hands. It has +been let and relet—tied up in settlements—and, until the termination +of the lease, there may have been three or four intermediate landlords +between the occupant and the proprietor. The present possessor comes to +deal with an estate, ruined and almost worthless from mismanagement, +over which he could exercise no control, and peopled by a pauper and +surplus tenantry, for whose creation he is in noways accountable. This +is exactly the condition of those estates, and the position of those +landlords, whose treatment and whose acts have been latterly so much +commented on. And we will now ask those who blame others so much, +candidly to tell us what they would advise to be done—what, if placed +in such a situation, they would do themselves. They will, no doubt, at +once say, "Remove some, give them the means of going to the colonies, +and make the rest comfortable." Why, that is exactly what the landlords +have been endeavouring to do, and for which they have been denounced. +This is just what Lord Lorton, Colonel Windham, and others, did; and for +doing which they were designated "miscreants." If the tenantry were +removed, even to better their own condition, the dues of the priest, and +the physical force at the command of the agitator, would be +lessened—and this would never answer. "Well, then, if this mode of +management be not popular, leave all on the land, build them comfortable +houses, and insist on a proper mode of cultivation. In Belgium and +France men live on smaller portions of land in comfort, why should they +not in Ireland? Lay out money in affording them employment, pay them for +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_649" id="Page_649">[Pg 649]</a></span> +draining and sewering—the benefit will be ultimately yours." The answer +is obvious. It would require more money than the property is worth to +build good houses for all; and, if built, they would soon go to ruin +from the habits of the people. If they possessed the land in fee, the +occupants, from their numbers, could not exist upon it. The landlord +cannot make them emulate the Belgian or the Frenchman in industry. The +produce of the orchards he may plant will be stolen, and the trees +broken and destroyed, to obtain the fruit. They will not exert +themselves to raise many things which are sources of profit to the poor +man in this and other countries; or if they did, they would have no +market—they would obtain no price for them. And why? Because their own +misconduct prevents the establishment of any manufactures, or the outlay +of any money amongst them. Who will carry his machinery to a country +where—though he may be a good master and a kind friend, though he may +give occupation to hundreds and diffuse wealth among thousands—his +spindles may be stopped at the beck of a priest, and his machinery left +to rust at the dictate of Mr O'Connell. Independent men do not wish to +lose all self-control—to sacrifice all right of private judgment; and +he who dares to assert his own opinions, or to defy the behests of the +"Liberator," has no business to betake himself to Ireland. As to giving +employment in sewering and draining—which would benefit the estate—it +is not every man who can afford to set his land at a cheap rate, and +afterwards to expend his income for the immediate benefit of the +occupier. But even this has been attempted. Lord Lansdowne tried to +accomplish it on his Irish estate; but the steward he sent to +superintend the work was noticed to quit, and driven out of the country, +by the very persons for whose benefit those improvements were +planned—by the very men who were to be paid for their execution. Under +such circumstances as we have stated, in many instances the fear of +death compels the landlord to abandon all idea of improvement. He must +submit to sacrifice his rent, because those in possession can't or won't +pay him; and, if he removes them, he can find no one to succeed them: +and, in addition to his other consolations, he has the pleasure of +seeing himself described as a monster more ruthless than any Russian +despot; while some hut, the erection of which he <i>dared not have +prevented</i>, is described, perhaps sketched and stuck in a book, as an +incontrovertible proof of the miserable condition to which his rapacity +and neglect have reduced his unhappy dependents.</p> + +<p>No direct legislation can affect the social condition of Ireland; before +you can hope to benefit the country, <i>you must establish tranquillity, +and inspire the peasantry with a due respect for the law, and a just +estimate of the rights of private property</i>. The question is—by what +means are those things to be accomplished? You may give land at a lower +price than it now brings, but you will not thereby cause any perceptible +change in the habits of the people. They may be wealthier, but they will +not be cleanlier. Their rents may be better paid, but the peasant will +still live on the potato. The filthy cabin will exist, and the cow and +the pig will feed at the same board, and occupy the same apartment as +the owner, until you elevate the moral and social feelings of the man, +and teach him to require as a necessary what he now looks on as a +superfluous luxury.</p> + +<p>Much of the poverty of the Irish peasantry has been attributed to the +con-acre system. But if this system were not found, by the persons who +practise it, to be more beneficial, and less laborious, than raising +crops from their own land, it would not be persevered in. In those +counties in which con-acres are scarce, the cry is, that the people are +starved, because they can't have them. Where they are abundant, they are +impoverished by the prices they pay for them. The Terryalt system, in +the south, originated in the gentlemen farmers refusing to break up +their land, and in the people assembling in mobs, digging the ground, +thereby rendering it unfit for pasture, and compelling the owners to let +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_650" id="Page_650">[Pg 650]</a></span> +it for potatoes. It may be said, how could they avoid doing this? They +had no land to raise potatoes on, and they must have them or die. This +is not the case. The only persons who could be so circumstanced are the +day-labourers; and to them it must, personally, be a matter of +indifference what land was, or was not broken: for, by their agreements, +those gentlemen and farmers who employ them, are bound to provide them +with potato land; consequently they would not risk their lives to +procure what was already guaranteed them. Those agrarian disturbances +originated with small farmers, whose own farms were not half cultivated; +or tradesmen, who would not have been so anxious to procure con-acres, +if they did not find them in general a much cheaper mode of procuring +their staple commodity than by having recourse to the markets. The first +use a servant boy or girl makes of their earnings, is to plant +con-acres, not for subsistence, but for sale. Half an acre of potatoes +is generally the foundation of the fortune. The rent paid for potato +ground has been enormously magnified. Mr Wiggins sets it down at £12 per +acre. It may let for this price (the <i>plantation acre</i>) in the immediate +vicinity of Dublin, Belfast, or some other large cities; where, from the +contiguity of the market, the produce of a good acre will be worth from +£40 to £60, according to the rate of prices. But, in the rural +districts, such a price is never heard of; and it is only by the prices +in those districts that the condition of the people can be affected. +From £5 to £7 and £8 will be found the usual prices; and we should be +glad to know what English farmer would give upwards of <i>one acre three +roods</i> of his best land, well tilled and highly manured, at such a +price, the renter only holding it for one crop, and paying no taxes +whatever. The average produce per acre of good con-acre will be, at +least, twenty tons of eating or marketable potatoes, independent of a +large quantity fit for seed, and for the feeding of pigs; the value of +those latter will greatly over-pay the expense of seed, planting, and +digging. And taking the price at 1s. per 112 lbs., the renter will have +£20 worth of potatoes for £8; a clear profit of £12 on the acre. It, of +course, occasionally does occur, that from failure of the seed, rot, or +other casualties, the crop may not be worth the rent; in this case an +abatement, sufficient to satisfy him, is made to the holder, or it is +left on the landlord's hands. Potatoes being a perishable crop, and a +species of food which cannot be preserved beyond a season, their price +fluctuates more than that of any other kind of provisions. Last year the +price in this "country of famine" was 4d. for 112 lbs.; in general the +prices vary from 1s. (seldom less) to 2s., and sometimes 3s., the 112 +lbs.</p> + +<p>In Ireland, good con-acres are looked on by the peasantry as a certain +source of wealth; here they are considered as a main cause of their +poverty. Who are the best judges—the people who use, or those who read +about them? But whatever may be the merit or demerit of the con-acre +system, (and we are none of its advocates,) it is unjust to charge its +practice on the landlords. They have nothing whatever to do with it; it +is a mode of dealing between one class of tenantry and another. The +assertion in the "Cry from Ireland," that the peasant <i>gives his manure, +and pays 18s. an acre besides</i>, is too ridiculous to require +confutation.</p> + +<p>But suppose the rents in Ireland were exorbitant, who would be to +blame?—the landlords who accepted them, or the people who <i>swore</i> to +their extraordinary moderation? Let us look to the registry +courts:—<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a></p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +"There the landlords were found opposing the admission of their +tenantry to the register, and stating on oath that they considered +the rents received by them as the full value of the land—<i>while +the tenants, and their neighbours, and the liberal 'valuators,' +were proving 'that it was let by those rack-renting and heartless +men' grossly under its value</i>. And indeed, when the small extent of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_651" id="Page_651">[Pg 651]</a></span> +the farms whose occupiers claimed the right to vote is taken into +consideration, this must appear true; for it sometimes required <i>to +prove the land worth thirty shillings the acre more than the rent +paid, to bring the annual profit up to the requisite ten pounds</i>. + +<br /><br /> + +"That the rents were not considered as too high, we have not only +the testimony of the freeholders themselves, but of other +<i>'competent persons,' employed by the registry association, who, +before the claimant was placed on the register, were obliged +solemnly to swear, in public court, 'that the land was in most +instances worth, and that a solvent tenant could afford to pay for +it</i>, <span class='smcap'>double the rent</span> <i>imposed on the occupier by the landlord.'</i> We +say, in almost every instance, <i>double the rent</i>; for when it is +considered that many have registered from seven to eight acres, it +would be necessary to do so in order to bring the value up to the +required £10; and yet those men who have so sworn, and those +leaders who have encouraged and induced them so to swear, and who +have procured and paid others to corroborate their testimony on +oath, are the persons who so lustily proclaim the extortion of the> +landlords! <i>If what they have sworn, and what their priests have +encouraged them to swear, be true, their landlords must be +indulgent and merciful indeed.</i> If the contrary, not only have they +been guilty of perjury for their own injury; but those who assisted +and abetted them must have been aware that they were encouraging +them to commit a grievous sin." +</div> + +<p><i>At that time</i> it was Mr O'Connell's object to attain political power, +by proving the lands were set at a <i>cheap</i> rate; <i>now</i> it is his object +to obtain popularity, by declaring that they are set at a rate far too +dear. Which of his assertions are we to believe?</p> + +<p>It may be said that only a few, comparatively speaking, of the +landholders registered their votes; and that, from the value of the +holdings of a few, it would be unfair to draw a conclusion as to the +terms on which the land was held by the bulk of the people. This +objection could only be urged by a person unacquainted with Ireland; for +any man who attended the quarter-sessions there, must know that, if all +the persons for whom the priests and liberal clubs served notice, and +whose qualifications they were prepared to support, had come forward to +claim and establish their rights to the franchise, the number on the +register would have been quite as great as (if it did not exceed) that +of the old forty-shilling freeholders. If the claims of those who did +apply, and who, although rejected, were most vigorously sustained by the +agitators, had been substantiated, the constituency would have been +quite as numerous as the most ardent patriot could desire.</p> + +<p>From whatever causes the wretched condition of Ireland may arise, want +of tenure cannot be included amongst them; for if length of tenure +secured prosperity, Ireland should have been prosperous indeed. In no +country were such long leases heretofore given: from three lives and +thirty-one years to three lives and sixty-one years, were the terms +usually granted; and at this moment there are many leases still in +existence, in all parts of the country, made towards the close of the +last century, and held directly from the owners. And although the lands +held under these are at a rent very much below even the present +depressed value, and of course greatly under what they would have +fetched in the time of the war, still we do not find their possessors +generally comfortable or independent; but, on the contrary, they are in +most instances in a worse condition than those tenants whose rent has +varied with the times, and been influenced by the rise or fall in the +value of agricultural produce. Seeing, then, that men placed in the most +favourable circumstances, both as regards the moderation of their rents +and the length of their tenures, are generally more wretched in the +appearance of their dwellings, and more neglectful of the cultivation of +their farms, than those at the mercy of landlords, represented to be the +most tyrannical on earth—we must seek the cause of the degraded state +of the people elsewhere than at the door of the owners of the soil. +Until within the last few years, (and those are the years in which the +landlords have most exerted themselves, and in which the tenantry, who +would be influenced by them, have most improved,) leases of <i>at least</i> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_652" id="Page_652">[Pg 652]</a></span> +twenty-one years, and one life, were always given, which not +unfrequently prolonged the tenure to sixty or seventy years. And nothing +can be more erroneous than to suppose that the refusal to grant leases, +latterly practised by some Irish landlords, has been the cause of any +hardship or suffering to the people. The contrary is the fact; and no +men know this better than those who so loudly exclaim against the +practice. It is a great mistake to imagine that leases are in no +instance granted: the truth is, that they are still very generally +given; and that in a great majority of those instances where they are +withheld, they are so withheld, not with the intention of taking +advantage of the tenant's improvements, or depriving him of his +political rights, (as the English people are led to believe,) but for +the purpose of compelling him to improve and to live comfortably, in +spite of his own predilections. On the best managed estates in Ireland, +and those where green-cropping has been most generally brought into +operation, there are no leases; yet on those properties the tenantry are +invariably the most independent and contented. On the estates of the +Earl of Gosford, and other proprietors in the north, under the able +superintendence of Mr Blacker, (whose conduct is the theme of universal +approbation,) no leases are given until the tenant shows, by his +industry and his exertions, that he deserves one; and then, after he has +for some years cultivated his farm in a proper manner, and is taught to +estimate the value of an improved system, he gets his lease as the +reward of his industry, without the slightest advance in his rent. From +the bad feelings implanted in the minds of the peasantry, they generally +prefer living in comparative misery, and allowing their land to remain +in a state of nature, whether they have leases or not, rather than make +any improvements which might tend to the landlords' ultimate advantage, +even though these improvements would produce immediate benefit to +themselves; and this bad feeling is actually supported by the +undisguised enmity, which unfortunately, of late years, subsists +between the gentry and the priests. We are far from saying that acts of +oppression and injustice may not sometimes be perpetrated by landlords +and agents. Amongst so numerous a body, there must be bad men: and if an +instance, lately mentioned by Mr O'Connell, be true—namely, that of an +agent who set a farm occupied by an industrious and well-behaved +tenantry, who owed no rent, to an extensive grazier, at a rent of four +pounds a year <i>less</i> than the resident tenants offered to secure—we +must at once admit that nothing could be more heartless or cruel. But +then we are bound in justice to state, that the agent so accused was the +bosom friend of the great agitator himself, and a leading member of the +Repeal Association, which has constituted itself the protector, <i>par +excellence</i>, of the Irish people. May we not fairly suppose that, when +Mr O'Connell denounces his friends, he would not hesitate to drag his +political opponents to the bar of public opinion; and that the paucity +of <i>facts</i> which he is able to adduce against the landed gentry, is a +proof that they have not neglected the duties of their station, in so +flagrant a manner as his wholesale denunciations would lead us to +expect?</p> + +<p>How can we be surprised at Irish absenteeism? Can we expect that any man +who can avoid it, will willingly expose the lives of himself and his +family, by taking up his residence amongst the "Thugs" of Tipperary? If +an absentee comes to reside personally to superintend the improvement of +his property, and takes part of his own estate to make a demesne and +build a mansion, he must dispossess someone—<i>and, like Lord Norbury, he +is shot</i>. Should he escape his fate, his motives are misrepresented, and +his anxious endeavours to give occupation and employment to the people, +are converted into the worst crimes; because they can only be carried +into effect by changing the condition of men from pauper and idle +tenants to that of regularly worked and well paid labourers. And what +object can he have, in risking death in the cause of those who suffer +themselves to be so misdirected and misled? Local influence he can have +none—that will be monopolized by the priest; political importance he +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_653" id="Page_653">[Pg 653]</a></span> +cannot expect, in a country where the representation is placed +exclusively in the hands of the Roman Catholic bishops.<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a></p> + +<p>Mr Waller resided, and employed the labourers in his neighbourhood; but +he took a part of his own land into his own hands—he ejected tenants +who were unable or unwilling to pay their rents, and he gave them +compensation, and to such as remained employment. What of that? He dared +to occupy his own property, and for this he suffered years of +persecution. His own expenditure, and his wife's charities, were no +protection; and at length, while enjoying the comforts of his home, he +and the amiable and unoffending females of his family, were cruelly +butchered on his own hearth: and though, in the conflict, their +assailants must have been wounded and marked, they have not as yet been +discovered. May we not ask why is this? How comes it that, in a +Christian country, murder is tolerated, nay openly approved? that the +assassin is protected and concealed, instead of being delivered up, and +made amenable to the offended laws of his country?<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a> Can the ministers +of that religion professed by the vast majority of the people, have +faithfully discharged their sacred obligations, if men be found, +professing the religion of Christ and understanding its precepts, +willing to enrol themselves as the hired bravoes of a "Black Sheep +Society," and to butcher their neighbours for a petty reward? The Roman +Catholic religion condemns murder as strongly as the Protestant +religion; yet how happens it, that a whole community professing that +faith winks at the crimes of the guilty? This total demoralization we +look on as the worst feature of the case. There are, and always must be, +bad men in every society; but how the great mass of the people could be +brought to tolerate the commission of crimes amongst them, which cry +aloud to Heaven for vengeance, is more than we can comprehend. Had the +priests devoted that time which they spent in exciting the passions and +misleading the judgment of their flocks, in the inculcation of the +divine precept of brotherly love—had they exercised that influence +which they undoubtedly possess in calming the passions and enlightening +the minds of their people—the condition of their country would now be +widely different from what it is; and surely their bishops might have +been better employed in remedying the neglect of their subordinates, +than in attending political meetings, and delivering postprandial +orations, savouring more of the braggart boastings of a drunken drumboy, +than of the deliberate opinions of a dignified ecclesiastic. In their +zeal as politicians, the Roman Catholic clergy have forgotten their +duties as priests; and they are now beginning to get a foretaste of the +consequences: they became mob leaders at elections and popular +meetings—they rode the whirlwind, "can they direct the storm?" The +ruffian tasting blood in beating the electors, soon undertook business +on his own account. The step from savage assault to actual murder, is +but ideal. The man who encouraged, or connived at, the lesser crime, +could scarcely expect to prevent the perpetration of the greater and the +"boy" who commenced by applying "gentle force" to a reluctant voter, +became in the fulness of his crimes the avowed assassin. The priest used +him as "the bully"—he may repudiate, but he dare not denounce, him as +"the murderer."</p> + +<p>In the late debate, two publications on the state of Ireland were +recommended to special attention; the one, "A Cry from Ireland," by Lord +John Russell—the other, Mr Wiggins's book, by the Marquis of Normanby. +The first we should scarcely have noticed, (the noble lord mentioned it +with so much diffidence,) but for the impression it seems subsequently +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_654" id="Page_654">[Pg 654]</a></span> +to have made on the mind of Sir R. Peel; but when we found a noble +ex-lord-lieutenant recommending, as trustworthy and instructive, a book +written on a subject which engrosses much of the public attention, we +felt it our duty at once to apply to his "fountain of knowledge."</p> + +<p>We cannot say that we have "read with attention" the whole of this +whimsical production: few there are, we believe, who could command +patience enough to wade through such a mass of contradictory absurdity; +but we have selected such parts as we could find at all bearing on the +subject Mr Wiggins professes to write upon; and we shall transcribe some +few passages, if not for the benefit, at least for the amusement, of our +readers; merely premising, that this gentleman gives us no data on which +to found our opinions, and no guarantee for the truth of his statements +but his own assertion. First, as regards the amount of rent charged in +the north and south, Mr Wiggins says—</p> + +<div class="blockquot">"In accordance with this view of the case, we find, in practice, +that the rents are far higher in proportion to the produce of the +land in those parts of Ireland where Romanism prevails, than in +other parts, where Protestantism is professed by a considerable +portion of the population." +</div> + +<p>We refer to our previous statements, founded on unquestionable +authority, to show how perfectly erroneous this "view of the case" is. +The direct contrary is the fact; land is set for at least one third more +in the Protestant and peaceable north, than in the Roman Catholic and +turbulent south. As a specimen of our author's style when he becomes +jocose, and of his veracity when he describes the conduct of Irish +landlords, we give a graphic sketch, representing the mode of letting +land in the sister country—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +"Fancy a 'lord of the soil' (a petty one 'tis true) walking with a +bevy of bidders <i>humbly</i> following him, after obtaining a bid of +money far beyond the value from one, exciting the others to outbid +in duty rent, thus:—'Well, Mich, you hear what Pat bids; now, what +will <i>you</i> advance?'—'Why, yer honer, God knows it's more than +the value, but I'll give yer honer three days +turf-drawing.'—'Three days is it, my lad, when you know well +enough that my turf-stack takes a month's fine weather to get +in?'—'Och! then,' says Denis, 'but I'll not grudge your honer a +week.'—'By the powers now,' says Larry, 'I'd give yer honer two +weeks, if the place and the rint would kape a horse, or a mule, or +a donkey, in the way of drawing; but I'll bring yer honer a fat pig +any how, and pay the rint of four pounds an acre as punctually as +<i>any other</i> man.'—'Larry, the land is yours, my boy, and a mighty +chape bargain too! Ted Sullivan promised me five pounds an acre +plantation; but I was rather doubtful of his manes—I'll only ask +ye to cut and save me a few slane, according to times, as you +cannot draw it.'" +</div> + +<p>£4 the acre!!! this certainly beats any thing we ever heard of before; +and until now we thought it a service of danger for any man to bid for +another's holding, or even to take an unoccupied one; but Mr Wiggins has +made many discoveries which are new to us, and not the least +extraordinary is, that "<i>Lycurgus gave laws to the Athenians.</i>"!!!</p> + +<p>One of the great panaceas of Lord Normanby's <i>protégé</i> is, that the land +should be "set at full rents, on <i>sensible leases</i>"—which he proceeds +to describe as leases for not less than twenty-one years. We have heard +of many <i>longer</i> leases than those of twenty-one years, we never heard +of any <i>shorter</i> being granted; and as the usual course is also to add a +life—which may, and not unfrequently does, prolong the tenure to sixty +or seventy years—we think that, if "sensible" leases had any effect, +Ireland would have been long since contented.</p> + +<p>Lord Normanby is reported to have stated as facts, on the authority of +Mr Wiggins, "that in Ireland, where the saleable produce of a farm was +£150, the share of the landlord in rent was £100; while on the other +hand, in England, if the produce was £300, the share of the landlord was +still £100." Mr Wiggins, in his "<i>able work</i>," also shows, that in the +shape of county cess the charge was nearly double in Ireland what it was +in England. It is difficult to form any accurate idea of the relative +amount of the county cess paid in Ireland, and of the local taxes in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_655" id="Page_655">[Pg 655]</a></span> +England, as in both countries they vary in each different locality. In +Ireland, the exact amount of county cess levied in each barony, can be +easily ascertained by reference to the respective county books; but in +England, as the local taxation is in a great measure put on by vestry, +it would be an arduous task to strike an average.</p> + +<p>In Ireland, the county cess varies in every barony, according to the +amount of public works executed in each, or according to the state of +crime in each district. In <i>peaceable</i> counties, and those which do not +border on the Shannon, the county cess will vary from tenpence to one +shilling an acre, half-yearly; while in disturbed districts, and in +those counties adjoining the Shannon, it will amount to much more. In +the first, because of the large sums obliged to be levied off them, as +compensation to those whose cattle were maliciously houghed, or whose +houses were burned; and in the latter, because of the great boon (the +grant to improve the river) bestowed on Ireland by that government of +which Lord Normanby was a prominent member. In the former case, those +who pay highly have only themselves to blame; if they were well +conducted, and discouraged the commission of crime, as all well-disposed +men ought to do, they would not have to bear those additional burdens. +In the latter, the grand-juries have no control; they must assess to +repay the principal of the money advanced to them, and discharge the +interest. Here we may be permitted to remark, that we believe, since +publicity was given to their adjudications on fiscal matters, there is +quite as little jobbing in Ireland as in this country. As a proof of the +disposition of the gentry to reduce the expenditure to the lowest +possible amount, we will state, what every gentleman serving on +grand-juries in Ireland must be cognisant of—namely, <i>that not more +than one-third of the presentments approved of by the rate-payers, are +ever passed by the grand-juries</i>; and yet road sessions, at which the +principal rate-payers have power to vote, were instituted to check the +extravagance of the proprietors.</p> + +<p>The difficulty in ascertaining the proportion of the produce of the soil +taken as rent by the landlords in either country, exists principally as +regards the large holdings; because in England a great proportion of the +farms are under tillage, while in Ireland, if not the whole, by far the +greater part of all the extensive farms are under grass; and the profits +of the grazier vary so much, that it is hard to form any correct +estimate of the proportion of the produce taken by the landlord as rent, +and that left to the tenant as interest for the money employed in the +purchase of stock. But in the smaller class of holdings, we can have no +difficulty in coming pretty near the truth; and as it is the grievances +of the class of men by whom those small farms are held which require +examination, the amount taken from them as rent, and left to then as +remuneration for their labours, is what is most requisite to be +ascertained. Let us, then, take a farm of twelve Irish acres, at 30s. an +acre.</p> + +<p>According to the Irish mode of cultivating, it will be cropped and +stocked as follows:—</p> + + + + <table summary="Production on an Irish farm" cellpadding="1"> +<tr><td colspan="4"></td><th>Acres.</th><th>R.</th><th>P.</th><td></td><th align="right" colspan="3">Saleable produce</th></tr> + +<tr><td>Landlord's rent,</td><td align="right">£18</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">1</td><td align="right">2</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">Potatoes, at £18 per acre,</td><td align="right">£27</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">0 +</td></tr> + +<tr><td>County cess,</td><td align="right">1</td><td align="right">4</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">3</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">Oats, at £7 per do.</td><td align="right">21</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +<tr><td>Poor-rates,</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">7</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">1</td><td align="right">2</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">Meadow, at £4 per do.</td><td align="right">6</td><td align="right">0 </td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +<tr valign="top"><td colspan="4" align="right">————</td><td align="right">6</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">Under pasture, feeds four cows,<br /> +which produce 8 firkins of<br /> +butter, at £2, 10s. each,</td><td align="right" valign="bottom">20</td><td align="right" valign="bottom">0</td><td align="right" valign="bottom">0</td></tr> + +<tr><td>Rent and taxes,</td><td align="right">£19</td><td align="right">11</td><td align="right">0</td><td colspan="3"></td><td>Profit on calves,</td><td align="right">6</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="7"></td><td>Probable profit on pigs,</td><td align="right">10</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +<tr valign="top"><td colspan="8"></td><td align="right" colspan="3">——————</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="8"></td><td align="right">£90</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> + +<tr><td colspan="7"></td><td>Amount of rent and taxes paid by tenant,</td><td align="right">19</td><td align="right">11</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +<tr valign="top"><td colspan="8"></td><td align="right" colspan="3">——————</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="7"></td><td>Surplus left to tenant as remuneration for labor</td><td align="right">£70</td><td align="right">9</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> + +</table> + + + + +<p>This is but a rough calculation, and an underrated one as regards the +profits of the tenant; but it serves our purpose sufficiently, and shows +that, instead of taking two-thirds of the produce, the landlord takes +not one-fourth—much less than the amount assumed to be taken in +England. But when we consider the additional imposts which the English +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_656" id="Page_656">[Pg 656]</a></span> +farmer has to pay in tithes, poor-rates, turnpikes, &c., we must at once +perceive how very much less the Irish tenant is charged in comparison to +what he is subject to. But if the farm, stocked and cropped as we have +above described it, (and it is the usual mode,) were cultivated as it +ought to be—if, instead of having one-half under natural pasture, it +were tilled after the Scotch or English system, and one-half or +two-thirds of what is now comparatively unproductive pasture, were under +green crops—we need not say how much the saleable produce would be +increased; and consequently, how much the tenant's profits would be +augmented. Yet surely that it is not so cultivated, is not the +landlord's fault. If he has given a lease, he has no control further +than to exact his rent; if he supply instruction, it may not be +received; if he set a good example, it may not be followed. If the +tenant will not consult his own interests, the landlord is not to be +held as responsible for the consequences of his neglect. The fair way to +calculate in this particular would be, not to take the saleable produce +<i>at what it is</i>, raised under a deficient system and negligent +cultivation; but <i>at what it might be</i>, if the tenant had but industry, +and would but do his duty.</p> + +<p>In an article on the Irish fisheries, in the <i>Quarterly Review</i> for +September last, (page 475,) we find it stated, that "the agricultural +produce of Ireland was, in 1832, estimated at £36,000,000 per annum, +issuing out of 14,603,473 acres of land—<i>a return nearly one-half less +than that rendered by an equal number of English acres; and this with +five labourers employed in Ireland, where two only are required in +England</i>." The rental of Ireland is ascertained to be above +£12,000,000; and thus we see that in fact the Irish landlord only +receives the one-third of the saleable produce, raised by his slothful +and negligent tenant, as rent. Let the produce be made equal to that of +England, (and with common industry this might be made to exceed it,) and +the share of the produce extracted as rent would only be about +one-sixth. Yet Lord Normanby "burkes" this correct information, and +clutches on the vague and unfounded assertions of Mr Wiggins, merely for +the purpose of damaging the character of a body of men, who had already +been sufficiently injured by the consequences of his misgovernment.</p> + +<p>We shall briefly advert to a few more of the items in the catalogue of +Irish tenants' grievances.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +"In England, the markets are near, and the cost of conveyance +thereto seldom exceeds five per cent on value. In Ireland, the cost +of preparing for and marketing, is ten and fifteen to twenty per +cent on the value of the produce, and often more." +</div> + +<p>In Ireland the saleable produce consists almost generally of oats, +butter, potatoes, and pigs; for which there is a ready market in every +village and town. As those markets are very seldom more than four or +five miles apart; and as, moreover, horse-hire and human labour are at +least fifty per cent cheaper in Ireland than in England—we are at a +loss to discover how "the cost of preparing, and taking to market," can +be fifteen per cent <i>more in the cheaper than in the dearer</i> country.</p> + +<p>Mr Wiggins makes <i>one</i> statement founded on truth, and we willingly give +Lord Normanby the benefit of it. "In England, labour is effectual, and +men skilful: in Ireland, three men are required for one in England." And +we would respectfully ask his lordship who is to be blamed for this. Is +it the landowner?—who, though he nominally pay <i>less</i>, in reality pays +<i>more wages</i> than the Englishman for the cultivation of a given quantity +of ground, and who would, if he could, for his own sake remedy the evil. +Or does the blame lie at the door of Lord Normanby's own <i>protégés</i>, the +priests and agitators?—those men who held the reins of power, and the +keys of prisons, during his administration; and who, by their pestilent +conduct, have raised the minds of the peasantry from their natural +occupation, and taught them to hope for affluence and independence from +other sources than industry and employment. Those labourers, when +working on task in England or Scotland, are found to be quite equal to +English or Scotch labourers: why are they not so when at home? Lord +Normanby's "unquestionable authority" is so very contradictory in his +assertions, that, had he not received the sanction of his lordship's +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_657" id="Page_657">[Pg 657]</a></span> +approbation, his own conflicting statements must have effectually +destroyed his credibility, but for the encomiums passed on it. In one +passage he condemns the landlords for the exorbitance of their rents; +while in the next he makes it a matter of pride and gratification that +he has <i>himself</i>, during his management, <i>raised</i> the rental of the +property under his control <i>at least one-third</i>—while the adjoining +estate is much more favourably circumstanced, and much more cheaply let, +though by no means so prosperous.</p> + +<p>When a nobleman, so long and so intimately connected with the country +whose interests are under discussion, as Lord Normanby was with Ireland, +and who, from the position which he occupied and the opportunities which +he possessed, ought to be particularly well informed on the question at +issue, solemnly assures us, from his place in Parliament, and in a +debate which he himself has originated, that the landlord and tenant +question is one on which the most profound ignorance exists in this +country, and that there never was a government which had so little local +knowledge as the present, and which, consequently, was so ill fitted to +legislate on the subject—when he laments other men's ignorance, and +glorifies himself on his own particular knowledge—when, we say, a +nobleman so circumstanced as the Marquis of Normanby, does all this, and +at the same time recommends a guide, by whom the ignorant may be +enlightened and the blind led, we are bound to believe that he has +accurately ascertained the trustworthiness of the person under whose +guidance he now would place us; and that he has maturely considered, and +carefully proved, the correctness of those statements on which he would +found legislation, by the test of his own experience. We are bound to +believe (and we do) that the noble lord is firmly convinced of the +accuracy of Mr Wiggins's views and principles, because they are exactly +similar to those on which, during his government, he always acted. +During his rule, the cause of the mob was every thing, and the cause of +the gentry was nothing. Can we, then, be surprised at the state in which +we find Ireland, and the difficulty experienced in hitting off the +measures requisite for the emergency—when we see "the most beloved and +popular viceroy that ever administered the government," and the one "who +was said, beyond all others, to be best acquainted with the wants and +wishes of that country," so profoundly ignorant of its most simple +statistics—simple, it is true, but still bearing most importantly on a +great and momentous question?</p> + +<p>We fear that, in his viceregal "progresses," the noble marquis was too +much excited by the hearty cheers which greeted him, and too much +engaged by the brilliant eyes that beamed upon him, to attend to the +more ostensible and more serious duties of his office; and that he +devoted the time which, if properly employed, might have enabled him to +arrive at the truth, in chucking the chins and patting the heads of the +pretty frail ones, to whom he addressed valedictory admonitions as he +released them from those dungeons to which the over-strict laws of their +country had (no doubt unjustly) consigned them.</p> + +<p>In the observations which we shall make on the pamphlet entitled "A Cry +from Ireland," we wish to be distinctly understood—we do not undertake +the task of showing up its glaring and wilful falsehoods for the purpose +of exculpating Mr Shee, the principal person whose conduct is arraigned +in it. He is openly, and boldly assailed; and if he be either unable or +unwilling to defend his character, he is unworthy of sympathy or +support. We undertake this duty, from higher and more important motives +than the exculpation of any individual. The conduct of the Irish gentry +is assailed through Mr Shee; and we wish to show that no landlord, +however ill inclined he may be, <i>could</i> practise such legal tyranny as +is imputed to this man. The administration of justice has been +impugned—we wish to show how unjustly; and this we shall be able to do, +even from the statements made by this wholesale libeller himself. The +conduct of the government has been vilified, because they are accused of +supplying Mr Shee with a police force, under whose protection, and <i>by +whose assistance</i>, he is said to perpetrate the most glaring felonies in +the open day—we leave the defence of their participation in Mr Shee's +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_658" id="Page_658">[Pg 658]</a></span> +enormities to her Majesty's ministers, when they are called to account, +as no doubt they will be, for allowing a force, paid for the protection +of her Majesty's subjects, to be employed as the author of this pamphlet +states them to be, in the following instance:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +"In one case, that of a tenant named Bushe, of whom with many other +sufferers I have not yet spoken, the landlord resolved on an +ejectment; but Bushe owing no rent, he could only proceed as he had +done against Pat Ring, or by some other process of a like kind. He +took a shorter one. It so happened that, though Bushe had paid his +rent in order to keep the house above his head—a very good house +it was, to judge from the size and worth of the substantial walls +which, in most parts, were still standing when I was there—he had +not paid every man in the county to whom he was indebted. He owed +one person, residing at a distance, a sum of money more, as it soon +appeared, than he could pay at once. This man the landlord found +out, through some of his agents appointed for such purposes, and +purchased from him the debt which Bushe owed him. This account +being legally conveyed to the landlord, he at once proceeded +against his tenant the debtor, threw him into prison, and as soon +as he got him there, went and took the roof off his house, turning +out his wife and six young children upon the open highway. There +they remained without shelter and without food, until some of the +people of the adjoining village assisted them. The father was in +prison, and could neither resist the spoliation of the house which +he himself had built nor could he do any thing, by work or +otherwise, for his family's subsistence. In every respect, the +proceeding was illegal on the part of the landlord, but, though the +lawyers urged Bushe to prosecute, and assured him of ultimate +success, he was too far gone to listen to them. He was heartbroken. +He had no confidence in any redress the law might give: he had seen +a rich man set the law at defiance; and the ruin of his roofless +house—<i>every piece of timber from which, and every handful of +thatch, as also the doors and windows, had been carried away by +orders of the landlord, and b the assistance of the constabulary, +who are located on the estate at the express request of the +landlord, and by sanction of the government</i>." +</div> + +<p>Here we have it asserted that an undoubted and most audacious felony has +been committed, and that the police force not only protected the +aggressors, <i>but actually assisted</i> in the perpetration of the crime. +Surely this is a case in which immediate punishment must have followed, +if an appeal lad been made to the law. It admitted of no excuse. A man, +without a shadow of right, destroys and carries of the materials of +another man's house. The police force not only do not prevent, <i>but they +assist him</i>. There is a stipendiary magistrate, but he does not +interfere; a petty sessions court, but no recourse is had to it; and, +strange to say, there is Daniel O'Connell, to whom every thing is known, +and he is silent; the two Messrs Butler, the members for the county, and +they are mute; Lord J. Russell assails the conduct of the ministry +towards Ireland—here was a case more flagrant than any he brought +forward; he knows it, for he recommends the book in which it is +stated—he dares not bring it forward, for no doubt he enquired, and +found it was untrue. To have it refuted, would not answer his purposes +or those of O'Connell, his ally. He recommends the book as an authority +to those who wish to see how the Irish are treated by their landlords; +and, receiving his sanction, it gets into circulation, and obtaius +belief for, others in addition to the many calumnies already propagated +against the Irish gentry. The author tells us—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +"The writer of the following pages has personally visited many of +the towns and rural districts of Ireland; and, <i>in obedience to +those who instructed him to perform the task</i>, has drawn up a plain +statement of facts, for the benefit of persons interested in the +welfare of Ireland, and who cannot visit that country personally to +judge for themselves." +</div> + +<p>And right clumsily has he performed the duty assigned to him. Had his +cunning been equal to his malignity, he would have acted with more +prudence. He would not have recklessly asserted in one place what his +own admissions refute in another. He would not have charged the most +talented, distinguished, and impartial law-officers of the crown with +having strained the law to protect a delinquent because he was a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_659" id="Page_659">[Pg 659]</a></span> +Protestant—and afterwards shown that the conduct of this man was +condemned by those very persons accused of partiality towards him; and +that his illegal acts were punished by those very tribunals to which (he +asserts) no poor man need think of applying for redress. He, however, +does his best to cover those glaring inconsistencies. He breaks the +thread of his narrative, and intersperses his stories in such a manner, +that a casual reader, who has not time or inclination to examine or +compare them, may easily be deceived and misled. For the purpose of +showing the reliance to be placed on Lord John Russell's authority, we +shall take up one case, (that of Patrick Ring,) and follow it out to its +conclusion.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +"The first proceeding was against Patrick Ring, a tenant, who held +on a lease of thirty-one years and a life, and who owed no arrears +up to 1842; the proceedings against him began in March 1841, and +have given rise to a complicated variety of actions at law, ending +with his ejectment and utter beggary.<br /><br /> + +"As he owed no rent, and as no possible reason for getting rid of +him as a tenant could be assigned, nor was ever offered until long +after proceedings had begun, a bold stroke to make a beginning was +absolutely requisite, and it was struck. The lease specified a +certain day in May and in November, as that on which the +half-yearly rent would fall due. Those days had been strictly +adhered to, and no one knew this better than the landlord. But in +1841 he obtained a warrant of distraint,<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a> and seized on Ring on +the 26th of March, for rent alleged to be due on the 25th. It might +have been a hard enough misfortune to be distrained on the day +following that of the rent being due in any case, especially in +spring, when the cattle and implements of labour, as also the +seed-corn, and potatoes, the articles distrained, are required for +the peculiar duties of that most important season, seed-time. But +when such a distraint was made on such articles, so indispensable +in their uses even for a day, to say nothing of weeks, and no rent +nor debt of any kind owing, the case is peculiarly a hard one on +the tenant.<br /><br /> + +"Patrick Ring caused a replevin to be entered with the +sheriff—that is, he gave security that he would pay the rent, if +rent was due, as soon as a trial at quarter-sessions or assizes +could be had—that he might in the mean time get the use of the +property upon which the distraint lay. He accordingly proved by his +lease that he owed nothing—that no rent was due until May. But +before that was done, May had come, and the rent was due. He paid +it punctually, and proceeded against the landlord for damages, or +rather for the costs to which he had been exposed. This being +opposed, occupied much time; and before it was settled, the +landlord once more distrained for rent alleged to be due on the +29th of September. Again Patrick Ring replevined, and proved his +rent-days to be in November and May, and not in September and +March. The case of costs and trespass came to trial in respect of +both seizures, and was decided in Ring's favour. Thus a jury and a +judge certified by their decision that the tenant was right, and +the landlord wrong. The damages awarded were very moderate, only +L12 and costs; but the tenant looked on the verdict as most +important, in respect of its setting, as he thought, the validity +of his lease and the period of his rent-days at rest. But that the +damages were too moderate as regarded the landlord was manifest +from the fact, that he again distrained in March for rent not due +until May.<br /><br /> + +"He now, it being again seed-time, took a more effectual way of +crippling the tenant than before. He seized on the farm implements +and stock, of which the dunghill was in his eyes the most important. +He had it, without a legal sale, carried away to his own farm-yard, +even to the very rakings and sweepings of the road and the yard near +which it lay. This he did that Ring might have no manure for his +potato ground, knowing that crops so planted would not easily afford +the rent; and that, when no rent was forthcoming, an ejectment would +soon follow. Other things—a plough, and a horse, and some +furniture—were sold, and Ring was once more involved in litigation. +These things were bought in with his own money, save the dung-heap, +which the landlord would not give him a chance of buying in; and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_660" id="Page_660">[Pg 660]</a></span> +thus Ring was obliged to pay his rent before it was due, with all +the expenses of a distraint and sale—the most expensively conducted +of any distraints and sales under the British crown. He thought to +recover damages for all this loss; but he was not able to pay his +rent in addition to all this, when it became due; and thus, by some +hocus-pocus of the law, the two cases became so mingled together as +to be inextricable." +</div> + +<p>From this statement it would appear that this Mr Shee distrained +illegally, that the tenant sought the protection of the law, and that he +obtained damages to the amount of £12. This may appear an inconsiderable +sum; but when it is considered that an officer entitled a "replevinger," +resides in almost every town, that the stock or implements were not +removed from the premises, and that Ring, if he exerted himself, could +not be deprived of their use for a <i>second day</i>—we must admit it was a +fair remuneration for his trouble. Well—but this Mr Shee, with the +knowledge of his former misconduct, and its punishment before him, again +seizes: and this time he commits a <i>felony</i>, as well as an illegal act; +for he carries off the tenant's manure, and appropriates it to his own +use, without going through any legal form whatever. The tenant obtained +justice before; but now (with a still stronger case) he refuses to bring +his action, which, in the quarter-sessions court, would have cost him +2s. 6d. He is quite aware of his rights, for he defended them +successfully before; yet for some reason or another, <i>studiously +concealed</i>, he now remains inactive.<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Is every person so silly as to believe that this Mr Shee, who was more +than once successfully prosecuted for assaults and illegal acts, would +not again be brought to justice for such a serious breach of the law as +that of forcibly carrying off another man's property. The criminal +prosecution would only have cost one shilling; and can we believe he +would a <i>third</i> time subject himself to an action for illegal distress, +with the rent-days specified in the lease well known to him?</p> + +<p>But all the assertions of this paid maligner sink into insignificance +compared with what follows. We know not which to be most amazed at—the +recklessness, or the stupid ignorance of the man.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +"It would be too tedious to give a detailed account of every +lawsuit that now followed; but from that time, <i>the summer of 1842, +up to the summer assizes of 1843</i>, the landlord proceeded in the +courts for a warrant of ejectment against Ring <i>nine times</i>. On the +first eight cases he was defeated; but he succeeded on the ninth. +He had thirteen other lawsuits of various kinds with the same +defendant, during which he sold his furniture five times and his +horse twice. In all, <i>he had twenty auctions of sale previous to +midsummer of this year</i>. Part of the furniture was in several of +these instances only bought back by the agent, Mr James Coyne, +handing money privately to Ring to pay for it. This is the agent +formerly spoken of, who at last gave up his situation out of sheer +disgust at the odious work he was called on to perform. + +"The crop of 1842 was seized on and sold at seven different times. +It was much more than sufficient to pay the rent, even though the +manure was carried away in the spring by the landlord; but those +seven different seizures, with seven different sales, with a number +of men receiving at each of the seven seizures 2s. 4d. a-day, as +keepers to watch the crop from the day of distraint to the day of +sale—those seven seizures on a crop which might have been all +seized and sold at one time, with only one set of +expenses—resulted, as they were intended to do, in nearly doubling +the rent. Moreover, the crop being distrained on while growing, was +cut down by people whom the landlord employed, although the tenant +and his family were standing unemployed; and to such work-people the +landlord can give any wages he chooses, to be deducted from the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_661" id="Page_661">[Pg 661]</a></span> +tenant, up to 2s. 6d. a-day! even though the harvest wages of the +district be 8d. or 10d. a-day!<a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a>—even though the tenant, who is +thus not allowed to give his own labour to his own farm, may, to +avoid starvation, be compelled to work to another employer for the +fourth part, to wit, 7½d. a-day, of what the law obliges him to +pay for workmen on his own farm. + +"It will give some proof of the exertions made by the tenant to pay +his way when I state, that, notwithstanding all the extraordinary +expenses of the seizures, and of the protracted and complicated +litigation, <i>the rent was paid by the autumn of 1842</i>. There as +nothing owing by Ring save a sum of £1 and odds, connected with the +expenses of a summons which had been decided against him on some +technical point of law." +</div> + +<p>Here it is stated, in the first place, <i>that from the summer assizes +1842, to the same period in 1843, Ring was nine times proceeded against +by ejectment</i>. Now the landlord could only proceed by ejectment in the +quarter-sessions' court, or in the superior courts. The +quarter-sessions' courts are held but <i>four times</i> in the year, namely, +in January, April, July, and October. The sessions were only held <i>three +times</i> within the period during which Ring is said to have been <i>nine +times</i> sued by ejectment; and consequently, if Mr Shee were even +inclined, it would be impossible for him to have proceeded more than +<i>three times</i> against him in the sessions court. But if he instituted +his suit in the superior courts, (if defence were taken, as clearly was +the case,) he could only have proceeded twice, "for the ejectment served +at November should be tried at the spring assizes, and the one served +subsequently at the summer assizes;" and the production of any process +from the superior courts, or the proof that such was had recourse to, +would effectually bar the landlord from proceeding in the inferior +courts. He could not proceed in both at the same time; and thus we see +that it would be impossible for any landlord, however oppressive, <i>to +have proceeded by ejectment more than three times within the period in +which this veracious compiler of grievances positively asserts Shee +proceeded nine times</i>. Next, he says, "the crop of 1842 was sold seven +different times," and "altogether he had <i>twenty auctions of sale</i> +before midsummer of 1843." Now, any proceeding by distress, pending the +progress of the ejectment, would have vitiated it and upset it; for the +law does not allow two different modes of proceeding for the same debt +at the same time; and in no courts is such scrupulous regard paid to the +rights of the tenant as in the quarter-sessions courts. But no decree +can be granted in ejectment cases until <i>a clear year's rent</i> shall have +been proved to be due; and yet we find this man, Patrick Ring, who, it +is asserted, <i>owed no arrears of rent up to 1842, and the sale of whose +crops and stock paid his rent up to autumn 1842</i>, evicted in summer +1843, when only <i>half a year's rent could have accrued due</i>; and this, +too, by a Roman Catholic assistant barrister, (Mr O'Gorman,) a judge +above any suspicion, and who, if we are to believe the statement +contained in Ring's own letter, was not at all partial to his +persecutor.</p> + +<p>To show how tyrannically men may act with impunity, (if they be +landlords,) he quotes the case of O'Driscoll, who struck a boy with his +horsewhip; yet he is obliged to admit, that for doing so he was fined +L3 by his brother magistrates, and dismissed from the commission of the +peace by the lord-chancellor. To create the desired degree of prejudice +against the Irish landlords, it is necessary to impugn the +administration of justice; for people here would naturally enough say, +when they read of such atrocities, "why don't those men so injured have +recourse to the law?" Therefore it must be shown (at any risk) that the +law is no impediment in the way of a tyrannical landlord. The falsehoods +may not be immediately detected; and in the mean time the object may be +achieved. Accordingly we find that a landlord can thus summarily dispose +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_662" id="Page_662">[Pg 662]</a></span> +of an obnoxious tenant. This Mr Shee was fired at: our author has his +doubts—although it appears, by his own account of the trial, that slugs +were lodged in his hand, and that his hat was perforated—and he adds—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +"But, if really fired at, and therefore much frightened, as he +doubtless would be, <i>it was not a loss to him</i>. With the facility +which the law in Ireland gives him as a landlord, he at once threw +those tenants into jail with whom he had been involved in +litigation. Consequently, before they could prosecute him for +damages, or before they could be witnesses in another case, they +had themselves to be tried for attempted murder!<br /><br /> + +"Patrick Ring was one of those arrested; and though several +hundreds of people, some of them gentlemen of rank and property, +knew that he had been in the Catholic chapel for an hour before and +an hour after the time the shot was alleged to have been fired, and +that at the distance of two miles, yet he was kept in prison, in +solitary confinement, not allowed to see any friend, nor even a +lawyer, for several weeks. He was not even examined before a +magistrate. This last fact in the administration of the law is, I +believe, peculiar to Ireland only. Whether it is consistent with, +or contrary to law, I cannot say. In England we consider it but +justice to the accused and the accuser, to bring them face to face +before a magistrate at the earliest opportunity. But in this case, +the landlord (<i>and I am told such a thing is quite common in all +such cases</i>) put Pat Ring in prison, kept him there three weeks in +close confinement, apart even from a legal adviser, and then +allowed him to go out without even taking him before a magistrate, +or offering any evidence against him.<br /><br /> + +"We may easily conceive circumstances which would warrant the +landlord to suspect this man, so as to have him taken up, and which +might ultimately turn out to be so weak as to prevent the +production of any evidence whatever. Had the landlord merely put +Pat Ring in prison, and let him out again after finding, through a +period of three weeks, that he could get no evidence against him, +there would be little to complain of, save that the law should not +compel the magistrates to bring the accused up for examination, or +that the prison authorities should not let the prisoner have an +interview with a legal adviser; but the landlord did much more. +<i>While Pat Ring was in jail, the landlord sent and made a wreck of +his house and farm; took the roof, thatch, and wood off the barn, +stable, and dwelling-house, save in one small portion of the +latter; and every handful of the thatch and wood so pulled down +was carried away to the landlord's own premises.</i> The doors and +windows he also carried away; pulled down the gates of the +farm-yard and the garden, and the garden-wall. These gates were +iron, and had been erected by the tenant a few years before at +considerable expense. The houses were also all of his own erection; +the thatch and timber of the roof, carried away by the landlord, +was Pat Ring's own property; <i>and all was taken away, and the whole +place wrecked, without any warrant whatever for so doing; without +any right whatever, save the right which, by the laxity of the law +and the dominancy of a faction, a landlord, belonging to that +dominant faction, may create for himself; without any authority +whatever, save the power of his own high hand, against which the +law is powerless</i>.<br /><br /> + +"Pat Ring, after being kept in prison for three weeks, apart from +every friend and adviser, and apart from every human creature, save +the spies with which every prison in Ireland abounds—(persons who +are kept there at the public expense, and who are put to sleep with +such men as Pat Ring; and who, pretending to make a confidant of +the fresh prisoner, tell tales of the assaults and murders which, +as a trap, they profess to have been concerned in—they urging the +new prisoner to confess all, to split on his accomplices, and take +the reward of £100 at once,—except such companions as these, some +of whom I saw produced as witnesses for the Crown at the Kilkenny +assizes, thus learning from their own mouths the nature of their +diabolical employment)—excepting these, to whom, as Pat Ring +declares, he indignantly answered again and again that he had +nothing to confess, he saw no human being during his +incarceration—was liberated, and went joyfully home; but when he +went there, alas! his home was a ruin." +</div> + +<p>We suppose we need scarcely point out the absurdity of such a statement +as this. Some magistrate <i>must</i> have committed this man; the jailer +could not receive him without a committal, nor set him at large +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_663" id="Page_663">[Pg 663]</a></span> +<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a> +without a discharge; although, from the account given, the inference may +be easily drawn that, on his own will, Shee had thrown Ring into prison. +If falsely imprisoned, he had his action against the magistrate who +committed him. The committal, which the jailer holds for his own +security, would discover the person who had acted so illegally. If any +man acted as Shee is said to have done in this instance, the law is not +to be blamed—for it forbids such conduct: the government officers who +permitted it to be violated, are the really guilty parties. And here +again we may ask—why were not the government called on to explain the +conduct of their officials, by Lord John Russell, who read and +recommended the book to the attention of Sir Robert Peel? But in +addition to the necessity of having Ring thrown into jail, to exhibit +the power of the landlords, it was necessary, for our author's purposes, +that he should be put out of the way, in order to account for an apology +given by the editor of a local newspaper to this Mr Shee.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +"An action was brought against the proprietor of the journal for a +malicious libel, in calling this gentleman a 'notorious landlord.' +A man who had, in two years and a half, had above two hundred +disputes with his peasantry, not half of which I have yet even +alluded to, but all of which, alluded to and related, had occurred +previous to that time—such a man, to prosecute for being called +'notorious,' had good confidence.<br /><br /> + +"But he had also a good case. It would be scouted out of +Westminster Hall, but it was a good case in <i>Ireland</i>. An English +judge, after hearing evidence for the defence in such a +case—evidence in justification—would not sum up to the jury, or, +if he began his summary, the jury would stop him with an intimation +that their minds were made up! <i>But to the Irish jury—the special +jury of landlords before whom this case was about to be +brought</i>—the proprietor of the Irish newspaper looked forward with +a certainty of being convicted on a criminal charge, the punishment +of which would have probably been one or two years' imprisonment +and a heavy fine.<br /><br /> + +"He might have hoped for a verdict in his favour had the case stood +for a common jury, or for a special jury in any of the counties +where he was known, or where his paper circulated. When it was +intimated to him that the trial would not take place in Kilkenny, +he urged that the venue might be laid in Waterford, or Tipperary, +or Wexford, or Carlow, or in the Queen's County, where something +was known of each of the parties; but no, the venue was laid in the +county of Dublin, where the gentlemen who would form the special +jury were all of the landlord class, and nearly all belonging to +the dominant church-and-state party. <i>In that county nothing was +known of either plaintiff or defendant</i>, save that the first was a +distinguished Protestant partisan and that the other was a +Catholic, and proprietor of a liberal newspaper. Of their private +characters nothing was known.<br /><br /> + +"Still the defendant resolved to go to trial, and justify the +epithet 'notorious' as applied to the landlord. He intended taking +several of the worst-used tenants up as witnesses; and he also +obtained the official records of the petty sessions, quarter +sessions, and assize courts, to put in as evidence to show the +overwhelming amount of litigation carried on by the landlord with +his tenantry. He resolved on doing all this, <i>though sure of being +condemned to imprisonment and a fine by the special jury</i>; he +judged, from the well-known reputation of that class of men, and +from what he had seen other newspaper proprietors receive at their +hands for publishing the oppressive conduct of landlords; but he +resolved on justifying by evidence, in the hope that a public +trial, at which such witnesses as the persecuted tenants of +plaintiff would appear, would draw public attention to their +unfortunate condition. <i>He had chosen Patrick Ring and John Ryan, +the worst-used of the tenants, and one or two others</i>, as +witnesses; but what was his dismay when he found Patrick Ring once +more thrown into jail, as also the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_664" id="Page_664">[Pg 664]</a></span> +others, at the instance of the landlord, on the charge of +attempting to shoot him!<br /><br /> + +"Thus, without his witnesses, the defendant, after incurring the +expense of about £100 in preparing his defence, was glad to get out +of the case in any shape. He made a public and most humble apology, +paid all expenses, and the prosecution was dropped. As soon as this +was effected, Patrick Ring, but for whose imprisonment on an +accusation of murder the trial would have gone on, 'was again +allowed to walk out of jail, without having undergone any +examination—without having had any evidence produced against +him.'" +</div> + +<p>The juries of the county Dublin are certainly the most independent, and +least likely to be prejudiced in favour of a landlord, that can be +found. They are in a great measure composed of wealthy merchants, who +reside in the neighbourhood of the city; and every one knows that a +judge's summons would have procured the attendance of Ring at the trial; +but it was necessary to find an excuse for this abject apology.</p> + +<p>We cannot, in the present instance, impute the conduct of this +truth-telling authority to ignorance; we must attribute it to his wish +to make the British public believe that all those civil bill processes +were at the suit of landlords against tenants—to the desire or the +necessity he felt himself under of sacrificing all principle to the +objects for the accomplishment of which he was employed. He <i>must know</i> +that nineteen-twentieths of those civil bills are actions for debts +brought by shopkeepers against their customers, or by one peasant +against another—for money lent, or for the price of provisions sold +them: he <i>must know</i> (if he knows any thing) that perhaps not fifty, out +of the whole 4318, are for rent; and that, where rent is at all sued for +by process, it is only in cases where the landlord takes the tenant's I +O U, in order to give him more time for what was long since due. The +landlord <i>can at any time distrain</i> for his rent; what object, then, +would he have in incurring expense, and encountering delay, to procure a +decree, which, when obtained, would <i>only restrict his former power</i>? +All this does he know; and yet he quotes the number of processes issued +by the most litigious people on earth against each other, as a proof of +the tyranny of the landlords, and as the fruitful source of poverty and +crime.</p> + +<p>We have to apologise for the length of our remarks on those two +productions. The one contains, we doubt not, the sincere opinions of a +well-meaning, but very silly gentleman; while the other bears upon its +unprincipled statements the stamp of premeditated dishonesty. Yet it is +upon authorities such as these that the Irish gentry are to be +condemned, and their estates confiscated; upon authorities such as these +that the interests of men, whose greatest crime is attachment to British +connexion, are to be sacrificed to greedy agitators, and a ferocious and +idle people. Sir Robert Peel may, <i>perhaps</i>, without danger, give an +extension of the franchise—the corporations are all, with one solitary +exception, (Belfast,) as revolutionary as they can be made; and the +Roman Catholic bishops may not be able to obtain political ascendancy +over any more counties than those already subject to their sway; but we +would call on him to pause and consider well before he disgusts the best +friends of England, by lending attention to the unfounded statements of +revolutionary priests, promulgated by mercenary writers; or the +legislative quackeries of a disappointed, dishonest, and despicable +faction.</p> + + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> Ireland—The Landlord and Tenant Question—Lord Normanby's +Speech—Mr Wiggins's Book, "A Cry from Ireland."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> One would think there were no poor-houses.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> Scotland has been more favoured in this respect. Ample details on +the point mentioned, and on every other relating to its physical, moral, +and economical state, may be found in the New Statistical Account—a +work which places the country under great obligations to the clergy of +the Established Church, who have furnished the accounts of their +parishes, and which display, in general, a range of intelligence in the +highest degree creditable to their order.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> + +Taken from the last census. Average rent of land per acre<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a> in +each county of Ireland.</p> + + +<table summary="Average rent of land per acre in Irish counties"><tr valign="top"><td> + <table summary="Average rent of land per acre in Ulster" border="1" cellpadding="5"> +<tr><th colspan="4">Ulster.</th></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Antrim</td><td align="right">£0</td><td align="right">16</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Armagh</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">11</td><td align="right">8</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Cavan</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">13</td><td align="right">7½</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Donegal</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">6</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Down</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">16</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Fermanagh</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">13</td><td align="right">7</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Londonderry</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">12</td><td align="right">2½</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Monaghan</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">13</td><td align="right">3½</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Tyrone</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">14</td><td align="right">6</td></tr> +</table> +</td> + +<td> + <table summary="Average rent of land per acre in Leinster" border="1" cellpadding="5"> +<tr><th colspan="4">Leinster.</th></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Carlow</td><td align="right">£0</td><td align="right">15</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Dublin</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">18</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Kildare</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">13</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Kilkenny</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">17</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">King's County</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">12</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Longford</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">12</td><td align="right">3</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Louth</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">16</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Meath</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">18</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Queen's County</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">14</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Westmeath</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">13</td><td align="right">7</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Wexford</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">14</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Wicklow</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">12</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +</table> +</td> + + + +<td> + <table summary="Average rent of land per acre in Munster" border="1" cellpadding="5"> +<tr><th colspan="4">Munster.</th></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Clare</td><td align="right">£0</td><td align="right">11</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Cork</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">13</td><td align="right">7</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Kerry</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">6</td><td align="right">1</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Limerick</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">18</td><td align="right">8</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Tipperary</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">17</td><td align="right">8½</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Waterford</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">12</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +</table> +</td> + + + +<td> + <table summary="Average rent of land per acre in Connaught" border="1" cellpadding="5"> +<tr><th colspan="4">Connaught.</th></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Galway</td><td align="right">£0</td><td align="right">12</td><td align="right">1</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Leitrim</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">10</td><td align="right">7½</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Mayo</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">8</td><td align="right">6</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Roscommon</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">13</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">Sligo</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">10</td><td align="right">8</td></tr> +</table> +</td></tr></table> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> The plantation acre, containing more than 1:3:0 statute.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> In a letter, signed "an Irishman," published by the <i>Times</i>, the +writer adduces as a proof of the <i>extortion</i> of Irish landlords, that he +has known a tenant in the north, whose lease was about to expire, +receive £270 for his interest in fourteen acres of land.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> We read in the <i>Times</i> a few days since, that the men employed in +opening the navigation of the Shannon at Rooskey had struck for an +advance in wages—they had 1s. a-day, and demanded 2s. Those who were +willing to continue were forced by armed men to abandon their work, and +threatening notices were served on the contractors; yet in this very +neighbourhood it is stated in the poor-law report that able-bodied men +were willing to work for 6d. a-day, but could not procure employment. It +is always thus:—when there is no employment, it is an excuse for their +idleness, when there is, they won't work but at the most extravagant +wages. To show that 1s. a-day was fair wages, we shall give an account +of the quantity of provisions which can be purchased at Rooskey for one +shilling.</p> + +<br /> + + <table summary="provision purchased for 1 shilling" cellpadding="3"> + <tr><td>14 lbs. of potatoes,</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">1½</td></tr> +<tr><td>2 do. oatmeal,</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">2</td></tr> +<tr><td>2 do. bacon,</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">7½</td></tr> +<tr><td>3 quarts of milk,</td><td align="right">0</td><td align="right">1</td></tr> + + + +<tr><td align="right">Total,</td><td align="right">1</td><td align="right">0</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> <i>Irish Landlords, Rents, and Tenures, &c.</i> Published by Murray, +Albemarle Street.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> Doctor M'Hale declared publicly, that, if it so pleased him, he +would place two <i>cow-boys</i> in the representation of Mayo.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> At the trial of the men for the murder of Mr Brian the other day, +at the Wexford assizes, the people cheered so loudly when the witnesses +hesitated or doubted, that a woman, the principal evidence, declared +"she would tell nothing more." The judge was obliged to order the +court-house to be cleared, and the accused were acquitted.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> A landlord requires no such warrant—he can distrain without any +authority.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> In case of replevin, the valuation of the stock or crop seized is +left to the <i>tenant himself</i>, so that sometimes he may value stock worth +50s. at only 20s., and they <i>must</i> be restored to him, on giving +security for what he sets them down as worth. The landlord cannot +interfere.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> The law never allows the landlord <i>more</i> than the wages paid in the +neighbourhood, in case he is obliged to employ men to save the crop.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> A man committed can only be discharged on bail, or by the bills +being ignored by the grand jury.</p></div> + +</div> + + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/134.jpg" + name="MAP" + id="MAP"><img width="100%" + src="images/134.jpg" + alt="MAP OF AFRICA" /></a> +</div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="center"><i>Edinburgh: Printed by Ballantyne and Hughes, Paul's Work.</i></p> + + + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine - +Volume 55, No. 343, May 1844, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE, MAY 1844 *** + +***** This file should be named 25047-h.htm or 25047-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/0/4/25047/ + +Produced by Brendan OConnor, Patricia Bennett, Jonathan +Ingram and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Library of Early +Journals.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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