diff options
Diffstat (limited to '31685-h/31685-h.htm')
| -rw-r--r-- | 31685-h/31685-h.htm | 8466 |
1 files changed, 8466 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/31685-h/31685-h.htm b/31685-h/31685-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9e51d67 --- /dev/null +++ b/31685-h/31685-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8466 @@ +<!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" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Nuts And Nutcrackers, by Charles James Lever + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + text-indent: 1em; + } + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + + h1,h3 {font-family: "Garamond", Times, serif; + } + + h2 {font-family: "Garamond", Times, serif; + padding-top: 1em;} + + hr.title1 {margin-top: 4em; + margin-bottom: 4em; + width: 15%;} + + hr.title2 {margin-top: 4em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + width: 17%;} + + hr.title3 {margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-top: 0em; + width: 17%;} + + hr.ct {width: 10%; + margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 2em;} + + hr {width: 20%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + height: 1px; + border: 0; + background-color: black; + color: black; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + + td.lal {text-align: left;} + + td.ral {text-align: right; + padding-left: 2em;} + + body{margin-left: 15%; + margin-right: 15%; + } + + p.publisher {margin-top: 4em; + text-align: center; + font-size: smaller; + margin-bottom: 4em; + text-indent: 0em; + line-height: 150%; + letter-spacing: 0.10ex; + } + + p.edition {font-family: "Old English Text MT", cursive, sans-serif; + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 4em; + margin-bottom: 2em;} + + p.sig {margin-right: 30%; + text-align: right; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 0em;} + + p.ill {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + letter-spacing: 0.20ex; + font-family: "Garamond", Times, serif; + font-weight: bold;} + + .dropcap { + float: left; + padding-left: 3px; + font-size: 250%; + line-height: 93%; + overflow: visible; + } + + .firstword { + text-transform: uppercase; + letter-spacing: 0.20ex; + } + + p.newchapter { + text-indent: 0em; + } + + div.tpage {width: 60%; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + font-size: 90%;} + + img {border-style: none; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + right: 1%; + font-size: x-small; + text-align: right; + font-weight: normal; + font-style: normal; + letter-spacing: 0ex; + text-indent: 0em; + font-family: "Times New Roman", Times, serif; + } + + a:link {text-decoration: none; + color: #104E8B; + background-color: inherit; + } + + a:visited {text-decoration: none; + color: #8B0000; + background-color: inherit; + } + + a:hover {text-decoration: underline;} + + a:active {text-decoration: underline;} + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size: 90%; + } + + .center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em;} + + .right {text-align: right; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {text-indent: 0em; + font-family: "Courier", monospaced, serif} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + padding-top: 1em; + } + + .figleft {float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-top: 0em; + margin-right: 0.5em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; + } + + .figright {float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-top: 0em; + margin-right: 0em; + padding: 0em; + text-align: center; + } + + div.footnote p {text-indent: 0em;} + + .footnotes {border: dotted 1px; + padding-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 2em; + } + + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size: smaller; + } + + .footnote .label {position: absolute; + right: 79%; + text-align: right; + } + + .fnanchor { vertical-align: baseline; + font-size: 80%; + position: relative; + top: -.4em; + } + + .poem {margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; + font-size: 90%;} + + .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.i1 {display: block; + margin-left: 1em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; + } + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Nuts and Nutcrackers, by Charles James Lever + +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: Nuts and Nutcrackers + +Author: Charles James Lever + +Illustrator: Phiz. + +Release Date: March 18, 2010 [EBook #31685] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NUTS AND NUTCRACKERS *** + + + + +Produced by Irma Spehar and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/illo001.jpg" width="450" height="648" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h1><a name="NUTS_AND_NUTCRACKERS" id="NUTS_AND_NUTCRACKERS"></a>NUTS AND NUTCRACKERS.</h1> + +<hr class="title1" /> + +<div class="tpage"> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza" style="margin-bottom: 0em"> +<span class="i0">“The world’s my filbert which with my crackers I will open.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="sig"><span class="smcap">Shakspeare.</span></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza" style="margin-bottom: 0em"> +<span class="i0">“The priest calls the lawyer a cheat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the lawyer beknaves the divine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the statesman, because he’s so great,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thinks his trade’s as honest as mine.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="sig"><span class="smcap">Beggar’s Opera.</span></p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza" style="margin-bottom: 0em"> +<span class="i0">“Hard texts are <i>nuts</i> (I will not call them cheaters,)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose shells do keep their kernels from the eaters;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Open the shells, and you shall have the meat:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They here are brought for you to crack and eat.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="sig"><span class="smcap">John Bunyan.</span></p> +</div> + +<hr class="title2" /> + +<p class="ill">ILLUSTRATED BY “PHIZ.”</p> + +<hr class="title3" /> + +<p class="edition">Second Edition.</p> + +<p class="publisher"><big>LONDON:</big><br /> +<span class="smcap">Wm. S. ORR AND Co., PATERNOSTER ROW;</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">WILLIAM CURRY, Jun., AND Co., DUBLIN.</span><br /> + +<small>MDCCCXLV.</small></p> + +<p class="publisher">LONDON:<br /> +BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.</p> + + + + + +<table summary="contents"> +<tr><td class="lal"> </td><td class="ral"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#NUTS_AND_NUTCRACKERS">AN OPENING NUT</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#NUTS_AND_NUTCRACKERS">vii</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#Page_1">A NUT FOR MEN OF GENIUS</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_CORONERS">A NUT FOR CORONERS</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_CORONERS">15</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_TOURISTS">A NUT FOR “TOURISTS”</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_TOURISTS">19</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_LEGAL_FUNCTIONARIES">A NUT FOR LEGAL FUNCTIONARIES</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_LEGAL_FUNCTIONARIES">22</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_ENDURING_AFFECTION">A NUT FOR “ENDURING AFFECTION”</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_POLICE_AND_SIR_PETER">A NUT FOR THE POLICE AND SIR PETER</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_BUDGET">A NUT FOR THE BUDGET</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_REPEAL">A NUT FOR REPEAL</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_NATIONAL_PRIDE">A NUT FOR NATIONAL PRIDE</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_NATIONAL_PRIDE">55</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_DIPLOMATISTS">A NUT FOR DIPLOMATISTS</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_64">64</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#Page_71">A NUT FOR FOREIGN TRAVEL</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#Page_77">A NUT FOR DOMESTIC HAPPINESS</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_LADIES_BOUNTIFUL">A NUT FOR LADIES BOUNTIFUL</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_PRIESTS">A NUT FOR THE PRIESTS</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_85">85</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_LEARNED_SOCIETIES">A NUT FOR LEARNED SOCIETIES</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_LEARNED_SOCIETIES">87</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_LAWYERS">A NUT FOR THE LAWYERS</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_92">92</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_IRISH">A NUT FOR THE IRISH</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_VICEREGAL_PRIVILEGES">A NUT FOR VICEREGAL PRIVILEGES</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#RICH_AND_POOR_POUR_ET_CONTRE">RICH AND POOR—POUR ET CONTRE</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_109">109</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_ST_PATRICKS_NIGHT">A NUT FOR ST. PATRICK’S NIGHT</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_GENTLEMAN_JOCKS">A NUT FOR “GENTLEMAN JOCKS”</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_119">119</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_YOUNGER_SONS">A NUT FOR YOUNGER SONS</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_YOUNGER_SONS">123</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_PENAL_CODE">A NUT FOR THE PENAL CODE</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_128">128</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_OLD">A NUT FOR THE OLD</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_OLD">131</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_ART_UNION">A NUT FOR THE ART UNION</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_ART_UNION">133</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#Page_137">A NUT FOR THE KINGSTOWN RAILWAY</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_DOCTORS">A NUT FOR THE DOCTORS</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_141">141</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_ARCHITECTS">A NUT FOR THE ARCHITECTS</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_ARCHITECTS">145</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_A_NEW_COLONY">A NUT FOR A NEW COLONY</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_148">148</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_SWEET_NUT_FOR_THE_YANKEES">A “SWEET” NUT FOR THE YANKEES</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#A_SWEET_NUT_FOR_THE_YANKEES">153</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#Page_157">A NUT FOR THE SEASON—JULLIEN’S QUADRILLES</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_157">157</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_ALL_IRELAND">A NUT FOR “ALL IRELAND”</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_ALL_IRELAND">163</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_A_NEW_COMPANY">A NUT FOR “A NEW COMPANY”</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_168">168</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#Page_175">A NUT FOR “THE POLITICAL ECONOMISTS”</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_175">175</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_GRAND_DUKES">A NUT FOR “GRAND DUKES”</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_180">180</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_EAST_INDIA_DIRECTORS">A NUT FOR THE EAST INDIA DIRECTORS</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_183">183</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_FILBERT_FOR_SIR_ROBERT_PEEL">A FILBERT FOR SIR ROBERT PEEL</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#A_FILBERT_FOR_SIR_ROBERT_PEEL">185</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#THE_INCOME_TAX">“THE INCOME TAX”</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#THE_INCOME_TAX">186</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_BELGES">A NUT FOR THE “BELGES”</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_BELGES">189</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_WORKHOUSE_CHAPLAINS">A NUT FOR WORKHOUSE CHAPLAINS</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_WORKHOUSE_CHAPLAINS">192</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_HOUSE">A NUT FOR THE “HOUSE”</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_HOUSE">197</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_LAW_REFORM">A NUT FOR “LAW REFORM”</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_200">200</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_CLIMBING_BOYS">A NUT FOR “CLIMBING BOYS”</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_203">203</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_SUBDIVISION_OF_LABOUR">A NUT FOR “THE SUBDIVISION OF LABOUR”</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_SUBDIVISION_OF_LABOUR">206</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_A_NEW_VERDICT">A NUT FOR A “NEW VERDICT”</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_A_NEW_VERDICT">212</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_REAL_LIBERATOR">A NUT FOR THE REAL “LIBERATOR”</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_216">216</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_HER_MAJESTYS_SERVANTS">A NUT FOR “HER MAJESTY’S SERVANTS”</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_HER_MAJESTYS_SERVANTS">221</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#Page_225">A NUT FOR THE LANDLORD AND TENANT COMMISSION</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="lal"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_HUMANE_SOCIETY">A NUT FOR THE HUMANE SOCIETY</a></td><td class="ral"><a href="#A_NUT_FOR_THE_HUMANE_SOCIETY">228</a></td></tr> +</table> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illo006.jpg" width="400" height="424" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2>A NUT FOR MEN OF GENIUS.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p class="newchapter"><span class="firstword"><span class="dropcap">I</span>f</span> Providence, instead of a vagabond, had made me a +justice of the peace, there is no species of penalty I +would not have enforced against a class of offenders, upon +whom it is the perverted taste of the day to bestow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> +wealth, praise, honour, and reputation; in a word, upon +that portion of the writers for our periodical literature +whose pastime it is by high-flown and exaggerated pictures +of society, places, and amusements, to mislead the +too credulous and believing world; who, in the search +for information and instruction, are but reaping a barren +harvest of deceit and illusion.</p> + +<p>Every one is loud and energetic in his condemnation of +a bubble speculation; every one is severe upon the dishonest +features of bankruptcy, and the demerits of un-trusty +guardianship; but while the law visits these with +its pains and penalties, and while heavy inflictions follow +on those breaches of trust, which affect our pocket, yet +can he “walk scatheless,” with port erect and visage high +who, for mere amusement—for the passing pleasure of the +moment—or, baser still, for certain pounds per sheet, can, +present us with the air-drawn daggers of a dyspeptic imagination +for the real woes of life, or paint the most common-place +and tiresome subjects with colours so vivid and so +glowing as to persuade the unwary reader that a paradise +of pleasure and enjoyment, hitherto unknown, is open +before him. The treadmill and the ducking-stool, “<i>me +judice</i>,” would no longer be tenanted by rambling gipsies +or convivial rioters, but would display to the admiring +gaze of an assembled multitude the aristocratic features of +Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, the dark whiskers of D’Israeli, +the long and graceful proportions of Hamilton Maxwell, +or the portly paunch and melo-dramatic frown of that +right pleasant fellow, Henry Addison himself.</p> + +<p>You cannot open a newspaper without meeting some +narrative of what, in the phrase of the day, is denominated +an “attempted imposition.” Count Skryznyzk, with black<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> +moustachoes and a beard to match, after being the +lion of Lord Dudley Stuart’s parties, and the delight of a +certain set of people in the West-end—who, when they +give a tea-party, call it a <i>soirée</i>, and deem it necessary to +have either a Hindoo or a Hottentot, a Pole, or a Piano-player, +to interest their guests—was lately brought up +before Sir Peter Laurie, charged by 964 with obtaining +money under false pretences, and sentenced to three +months’ imprisonment and hard labour at the treadmill.</p> + +<p>The charge looks a grave one, good reader, and perhaps +already some notion is trotting through your head about +forgery or embezzlement; you think of widows rendered +desolate, or orphans defrauded; you lament over the +hard-earned pittance of persevering industry lost to its +possessor; and, in your heart, you acknowledge that there +may have been some cause for the partition of Poland, +and that the Emperor of the Russias, like another +monarch, may not be half so black as he is painted. But +spare your honest indignation; our unpronounceable friend +did none of these. No; the head and front of his +offending was simply exciting the sympathies of a feeling +world for his own deep wrongs; for the fate of his father, +beheaded in the Grand Place at Warsaw; for his four +brothers, doomed never to see the sun in the dark mines +of Tobolsk; for his beautiful sister, reared in the lap of +luxury and wealth, wandering houseless and an outcast +around the palaces of St. Petersburg, wearying heaven +itself with cries for mercy on her banished brethren; and +last of all, for himself—he, who at the battle of Pultowa +led heaven-knows how many and how terrific charges of +cavalry,—whose breast was a galaxy of orders only outnumbered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +by his wounds—that he should be an exile, +without friends, and without home! In a word, by a +beautiful and highly-wrought narrative, that drew tears +from the lady and ten shillings from the gentleman of the +house, he became amenable to our law as a swindler +and an impostor, simply because his narrative was +a fiction.</p> + +<p>In the name of all justice, in the name of truth, of +honesty, and fair dealing, I ask you, is this right? or, if +the treadmill be the fit reward for such powers as his, +what shall we say, what shall we do, with all the popular +writers of the day? How many of Bulwer’s stories are +facts? What truth is there in James? Is that beautiful +creation of Dickens, “Poor Nell,” a real or a fictitious +character? And is the offence, after all, merely in the +manner, and not the matter, of the transgression? Is it +that, instead of coming before the world printed, puffed, +and hot-pressed by the gentlemen of the Row, he ventured +to edite himself, and, instead of the trade, make his +tongue the medium of publication? And yet, if speech +be the crime, what say you to Macready, and with what +punishment are you prepared to visit him who makes +your heart-strings vibrate to the sorrows of <i>Virginius</i>, or +thrills your very blood with the malignant vengeance of +<i>Iago</i>? Is what is permissible in Covent Garden, criminal +in the city? or, stranger still, is there a punishment at +the one place, and praise at the other? Or is it the +costume, the foot-lights, the orange-peel, and the sawdust—are +they the terms of the immunity? Alas, and alas! +I believe they are.</p> + +<p>Burke said, “The age of chivalry is o’er;” and I believe +the age of poetry has gone with it; and if Homer himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> +were to chant an Iliad down Fleet Street, I’d wager a +crown that 964 would take him up for a ballad-singer.</p> + +<p>But a late case occurs to me. A countryman of mine, +one Bernard Cavanagh, doubtless, a gentleman of very +good connections, announced some time ago that he had +adopted a new system of diet, which was neither more +nor less than going without any food. Now, Mr. Cavanagh +was a stout gentleman, comely and plump to look at, +who conversed pleasantly on the common topics of the +day, and seemed, on the whole, to enjoy life pretty much +like other people. He was to be seen for a shilling—children +half-price; and although Englishmen have read +of our starving countrymen for the last century and a-half, +yet their curiosity to see one, to look at him, to prod him +with their umbrellas, punch him with their knuckles, and +otherwise test his vitality, was such, that they seemed +just as much alive as though the phenomenon was new to +them. The consequence was, Mr. Cavanagh, whose cook +was on board wages, and whose establishment was of the +least expensive character, began to wax rich. Several +large towns and cities, in different parts of the empire, +requested him to visit them; and Joe Hume suggested +that the corporation of London should offer him ten +thousand pounds for his secret, merely for the use of the +livery. In fact, Cavanagh was now the cry, and as +Barney appeared to grow fat on fasting, his popularity +knew no bounds. Unfortunately, however, ambition, the +bane of so many other great men, numbered him also +among its victims. Had he been content with London as +the sphere of his triumphs and teetotalism, there is no +saying how long he might have gone on starving with +satisfaction. Whether it is that the people are less<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +observant there, or more accustomed to see similar +exhibitions, I cannot tell; but true it is they paid their +shillings, felt his ribs, walked home, and pronounced +Barney a most exemplary Irishman. But not content +with the capital, he must make a tour in the provinces, +and accordingly went starring it about through Leeds, +Birmingham, Manchester, and all the other manufacturing +towns, as if in mockery of the poor people who did not +know the secret how to live without food.</p> + +<p>Mr. Cavanagh was now living—if life it can be called—in +one of the best hotels, when, actuated by that spirit +of inquiry that characterises the age, a respectable lady, +who kept a boarding-house, paid him a visit, to ascertain, +if possible, how far his system might be made applicable +to her guests, who, whatever their afflictions, laboured +under no such symptoms as his.</p> + +<p>She was pleased with Barney,—she patted him with +her hand; he was round, and plump, and fat, much more +so, indeed, than many of her daily dinner-party; and +had, withal, that kind of joyous, rollicking, devil-may-care +look, that seems to bespeak good condition;—but +this the poor lady, of course, did not know to be an inherent +property in Pat, however poor his situation.</p> + +<p>After an interview of an hour long she took her leave, +not exhibiting the usual satisfaction of other visitors, but +with a dubious look and meditative expression, that +betokened a mind not made up, and a heart not at ease; +she was clearly not content, perhaps the abortive effort to +extract a confession from Mr. Cavanagh might be the +cause, or perhaps she felt like many respectable people +whose curiosity is only the advanced guard to their +repentance, and who never think that in any exhibition<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +they get the worth of their money. This might be the +case, for as fasting is a negative process, there is really +little to see in the performer. Had it been the man that +eats a sheep; “<i>à la bonne heure!</i>” you have something +for your money there: and I can even sympathize with +the French gentleman who follows Van Amburgh to this +day, in the agreeable hope, to use his own words, of +“assisting at the <i>soirée</i>, when the lions shall eat Mr. Van +Amburgh.” This, if not laudable is at least intelligible. +But to return, the lady went her way, not indeed on +hospitable thoughts intent, but turning over in her mind +various theories about abstinence, and only wishing she +had the whole of the Cavanagh family for boarders at a +guinea a-week.</p> + +<p>Late in the evening of the same day this estimable +lady, whose inquiries into the properties of gastric juice, +if not as scientific, were to the full as enthusiastic as those +of Bostock or Tiedeman himself, was returning from an +early tea, through an unfrequented suburb of Manchester, +when suddenly her eye fell upon Bernard Cavanagh, +seated in a little shop—a dish of sausages and a plate of +ham before him, while a frothing cup of porter ornamented +his right hand. It was true, he wore a patch above his +eye, a large beard, and various other disguises, but they +served him not: she knew him at once. The result is +soon told: the police were informed; Mr. Cavanagh was +captured; the lady gave her testimony in a crowded +court, and he who lately was rolling on the wheel of +fortune, was now condemned to foot it on a very different +wheel, and all for no other cause than that he could +not live without food.</p> + +<p>The magistrate, who was eloquent on the occasion,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +called him an impostor; designating by this odious +epithet, a highly-wrought and well-conceived work of +imagination. Unhappy Defoe, your Robinson Crusoe +might have cost you a voyage across the seas; your man +Friday might have been a black Monday to you had you +lived in our days. 964 is a severer critic than <i>The +Quarterly</i>, and his judgment more irrevocable.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/illo014.jpg" width="450" height="530" alt="The Man of Genius" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The Man of Genius</span> +</div> + +<p>We have never heard of any one who, discovering the +fictitious character of a novel he had believed as a fact, +waited on the publisher with a modest request that his +money might be returned to him, being obtained under +false pretences; much less of his applying to his worship +for a warrant against G. P. R. James, Esq., or Harrison +Ainsworth, for certain imaginary woes and unreal sorrows +depicted in their writings: yet the conduct of the lady +towards Mr. Cavanagh was exactly of this nature. How +did his appetite do her any possible disservice? what +sins against her soul were contained in his sausages? and +yet she must appeal to the justice as an injured woman: +Cavanagh had imposed upon her—she was wronged because +he was hungry. All his narrative, beautifully constructed +and artfully put together, went for nothing; his +look, his manner, his entertaining anecdotes, his fascinating +conversation, his time—from ten in the morning till +eight in the evening—went all for nothing: this really is +too bad. Do we ask of every author to be the hero he +describes? Is Bulwer, Pelham, and Paul Clifford, Eugene +Aram, and the Lady of Lyons? Is James, Mary of Burgundy, +Darnley, the Gipsy, and Corse de Leon? Is +Dickens, Sam Weller, Quilp, and Barnaby Rudge?—to +what absurdities will this lead us! and yet Bernard +Cavanagh was no more guilty than any of these gentlemen.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +He was, if I may so express it, a pictorial—an +ideal representation of a man that fasted: he narrated all +the sensations want of food suggests; its dreamy debility, +its languid stupor, its painful suffering, its stage of struggle +and suspense, ending in a victory, where the mind, the +conqueror over the baser nature, asserts its proud and +glorious supremacy in the triumph of volition; and for +this beautiful creation of his brain he is sent to the treadmill, +as though, instead of a poet, he had been a pickpocket.</p> + +<p>If Bulwer be a baronet; if Dickens’ bed-room be +papered with bank-debentures; then do I proclaim it +loudly before the world, Bernard Cavanagh is an injured +man: you are either absurd in one case, or unjust in the +other; take your choice. Ship off Sir Edward to the +colonies; send James to Swan River; let Lady Blessington +card wool, or Mrs. Norton pound oyster-shells; or +else we call upon you, give Mr. Cavanagh freedom of the +guild; call him the author of “The Hungry One;” let +him be courted and <i>fêted</i>—you may ask him to dinner +with an easy conscience, and invite him to tea without +remorse. Let a Whig-radical borough solicit him to +represent it; place him at the right hand of Lord John; +let his picture be exhibited in the print-shops, and let the +cut of his coat and the tie of his cravat be so much in +vogue, that bang-ups <i>à la</i> Barney shall be the only things +seen in Bond-street: one course or the other you must +take. If the mountain will not go to Mahomet, Mahomet +must go to the mountain: or in other words, if Bulwer +descend not to Barney, Barney must mount up to Bulwer. +It is absurd, it is worse than absurd, to pretend that he +who so thoroughly sympathises with his hero, as to embody<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +him in his own thoughts and acts, his look, his dress, +and his demeanour, that he, I say, who so penetrated with +the impersonation of a part, finds the pen too weak, and +the press too slow, to picture forth his vivid creations, +should be less an object of praise, of honour, and distinction, +than the indolent denizen of some drawing-room, +who, in slippered ease, dictates his shadowy and imperfect +conceptions—visions of what he never felt, dreamy representations +of unreality.</p> + +<p>“The poet,” as the word implies, is the maker or the +creator; and however little of the higher attributes of +what the world esteems as poetry the character would +seem to possess, he who invents a personage, the conformity +of whose traits to the rule of life is acknowledged +for its truth, he, I say, is a poet. Thus, there is poetry in +Sancho Panza, Falstaff, Dugald Dalgetty, and a hundred +other similar impersonations; and why not in Bernard +Cavanagh?</p> + +<p>Look for a moment at the effects of your system. The +Caraccis, we are told, spent their boyish years drawing +rude figures with chalk on the doors and even the walls +of the palaces of Rome: here the first germs of their early +talent displayed themselves; and in those bold conceptions +of youthful genius were seen the first dawnings of a +power that gave glory to the age they lived in. Had Sir +Peter Laurie been their cotemporary, had 964 been loose +in those days, they would have been treated with a trip +to the mill, and their taste for design cultivated by the +low diet of a penitentiary. You know not what budding +genius you have nipped with this abominable system: you +think not of the early indications of mind and intellect +you may be consigning to prison: or is it after all, that the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +matter-of-fact spirit of the age has sapped the very vitals +of our law-code, and that in your utilitarian zeal you have +doomed to death all that bears the stamp of imagination? +if this be indeed your object, have a good heart, encourage +964, and you’ll not leave a novelist in the land.</p> + +<p>Good reader, I ask your pardon for all this honest indignation; +I know it is in vain: I cannot reform our jurisprudence; +and our laws, like the Belgian revolution, must +be regarded “<i>comme un fait accompli</i>;” in other words, +what can’t be cured must be endured. Let us leave then +our friend the Pole to perform his penance; let us say +adieu to Barney, who is at this moment occupying a suite +of apartments in the Penitentiary, and let us turn to the +reverse of the medal, I mean to those who would wile us +away by false promises and flattering speeches to entertain +such views of life as are not only impossible but inconsistent, +thus rendering our path here devoid of interest and +of pleasure, while compared with the extravagant creations +of their own erring fancies. Yes, princes may be trusted, +but put not your faith in periodicals. Let no pictorial +representations of Alpine scenery, under the auspices of +Colburn or Bentley, seduce you from the comforts of your +hearth and home: let no enthusiastic accounts of military +greatness, no peninsular pleasures, no charms of campaigning +life, induce you to change your garb of country gentleman +for the livery of the Horse-Guards,—“making the +green one red.”</p> + +<p>Be not mystified by Maxwell, nor lured by Lorrequer; +let no panegyrics of pipe-clay and the brevet seduce you +from the peaceful path in life; let not Marryat mar your +happiness by the glories of those who dwell in the deep +waters; let not Wilson persuade you that the “Lights<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +and Shadows of Scottish Life” have any reference to that +romantic people, who betake themselves to their native +mountains with a little oatmeal for food and a little +sulphur for friction; do not believe one syllable about the +girls of the west; trust not in the representations of their +blue eyes, nor of their trim ankles peering beneath a jupe +of scarlet—we can vouch it is true, for the red petticoat, +but the rest is apocryphal. Fly, we warn you, from +Summers in Germany, Evenings in Brittany, Weeks on +the Rhine; away with tours, guide-books, and all the +John Murrayisms of travels. A plague upon Egypt! travellers +have a proverbial liberty of conscience, and the +farther they go, the more does it seem to stretch; not that +near home matters are much better, for our “Wild Sports” +in Achill are as romantic as those in Africa, and the +Complete Angler is a complete humbug.</p> + +<p>There is no faith—no principle in any of these men. +The grave writer, the stern moralist, the uncompromising +advocate of the inflexible rule of right, is a dandy with +essenced locks, loose trousers, and looser morals, who +breakfasts at four in the afternoon, and spends his evenings +among the side scenes of the opera; the merry writer +of whims and oddities, who shakes his puns about like +pepper from a pepper-castor, is a misanthropic, melancholy +gentleman, of mournful look and unhappy aspect: +the advocate of field-sports, of all the joyous excitement +of the hunting-field, and the bold dangers of the chase, is +an asthmatic sexagenarian, with care in his heart and +gout in his ankles; and lastly, he who lives but in the +horrors of a charnel-house, whose gloomy mind finds no +pleasure save in the dark and dismal pictures of crime +and suffering, of lingering agony, or cruel death, is a fat,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +round, portly, comely gentleman, with a laugh like +Falstaff, and a face whose every lineament and feature +seems to exhale the merriment of a jocose and happy +temperament. I speak not of the softer sex, many of +whose productions would seem to have but little sympathy +with themselves; but once for all, I would ask you what +reliance, what faith can you place in any of them? Is it +to the denizen of a coal mine you apply for information +about the Nassau balloon? Do you refer a disputed +point in dress to an Englishman, in climate to a Laplander, +in politeness to a Frenchman, or in hospitality to +a Belgian? or do you not rather feel that these are not +exactly their attributes, and that you are moving the +equity for a case at common law? exactly in the same +way, and for the same reason, we repeat it, put not your +faith in periodicals, nor in the writers thereof.</p> + +<p>How ridiculous would it appear if the surgeon-general +were to open a pleading, or charge a jury in the Queen’s +Bench, while the solicitor-general was engaged in taking +up the femoral artery! What would you say if the +Archbishop of Canterbury were to preside over the artillery-practice +at Woolwich, while the Commander of the +Forces delivered a charge to the clergy of the diocese? +How would you look if Justice Pennefather were to speak +at a repeal meeting, and Daniel O’Connell to conduct himself +like a loyal and discreet citizen? Would you not at +once say the whole world is in masquerade? and would you +not be justified in the remark? And yet this it is which +is exactly taking place before your eyes in the wide world +of letters. The illiterate and unreflecting man of under-bred +habits and degenerate tastes will write nothing but +a philosophic novel; the denizen of the Fleet, or the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +Queen’s Bench, publishes an ascent of Mont Blanc, with +a glowing description of the delights of liberty; the nobleman +writes slang; the starving author, with broken boots +and patched continuations, will not indite a name undignified +by a title; and after all this, will you venture to +tell me that these men are not indictable by the statute +for obtaining money under false pretences?</p> + +<p>I have run myself out of breath; and now, if you will +allow me a few moments, I will tell you what, perhaps, I +ought to have done earlier in this article, namely, its object.</p> + +<p>It is a remarkable feature in the complex and difficult +machinery of our society, that while crime and the law +code keep steadily on the increase, moving in parallel +lines one beside the other, certain prejudices, popular +fallacies—nuts, as we have called them at the head of this +paper—should still disgrace our social system; and that, +however justice may be administered in our courts of law, +in the private judicature of our own dwellings we observe +an especial system of jurisprudence, marked by injustice +and by wrong. To endeavour to depict some instances of +this, I have set about my present undertaking. To +disabuse the public mind as to the error, that what is +punishable in one can be praiseworthy in another; and +what is excellent in the court can be execrable in the +city. Such is my object, such my hope. Under this title +I shall endeavour to touch upon the undue estimation in +which we hold certain people and places—the unfair +depreciation of certain sects and callings. Not confining +myself to home, I shall take the habits of my countrymen +on the Continent, whether in their search for climate, +economy, education, or enjoyment; and, as far as my +ability lies, hold the mirror up to nature, while I extend<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +the war-cry of my distinguished countrymen, not asking +“justice for Ireland” alone, but “justice for the whole +human race.” For the gaoler as for the guardsman, for +the steward of the Holyhead as for him of the household; +from the Munster king-at-arms to the monarch of the +Cannibal Island—“<i>nihil à me alienum puto</i>;” from the +priest to the plenipotentiary; from Mr. Arkins to Abd-el-Kader: +my sympathy extends to all.</p> + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_CORONERS" id="A_NUT_FOR_CORONERS"></a>A NUT FOR CORONERS.</h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo022.jpg" width="200" height="180" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em"><span class="smcap">I had</span> nearly attained to man’s +estate before I understood +the nature of a coroner. I +remember, when a child, to +have seen a coloured print +from a well-known picture +of the day, representing the +night-mare. It was a horrible +representation of a +goblin shape of hideous aspect, +that sat cowering upon the bosom of a sleeping figure, +on whose white features a look of painful suffering was +depicted, while the clenched hands and drawn-up feet +seemed to struggle with convulsive agony. Heaven knows +how or when the thought occurred to me, but I clearly +recollect my impression that this goblin was a coroner. +Some confused notion about sitting on a corpse as one of +his attributes had, doubtless, suggested the idea; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +certainly nothing contributed to increase the horror of +suicide in my eyes so much as the reflection, that the grim +demon already mentioned had some function to discharge +on the occasion.</p> + +<p>When, after the lapse of years, I heard that the eloquent +and gifted member for Finsbury was a being of this +order, although I knew by that time the injustice of my +original prejudices, yet, I confess I could not look at him +in the house, without a thought of my childish fancies, +and an endeavour to trace in his comely features some +faint resemblance to the figure of the night-mare.</p> + +<p>This strange impression of my infancy recurred strongly +to my mind a few days since, on reading a newspaper +account of a sudden death.—The case was simply that of +a gentleman who, in the bosom of his family, became +suddenly seized with illness, and after a few hours expired. +What was their surprise! what their horror! to find, that +no sooner was the circumstance known, than the house +was surrounded by a mob, policemen were stationed at +the doors, and twelve of the great unwashed, with a +coroner at their head, forced their entry into the house of +mourning, to deliberate on the cause of death. I can +perfectly understand the value of this practice in cases +where either suspicion has attached, or where the circumstances +of the decease, as to time and place, would indicate +a violent death; but where a person, surrounded by his +children, living in all the quiet enjoyment of an easy and +undisturbed existence, drops off by some one of the ills +that flesh is heir to, only a little more rapidly than his +neighbour at next door, why this should be a case for a +coroner and his gang, I cannot, for the life of me, conceive. +In the instance I allude to, the family offered the fullest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +information: they explained that the deceased had been +liable for years to an infirmity likely to terminate in this +way. The physician who attended him corroborated the +statement; and, in fact, it was clear the case was one of +those almost every-day occurrences where the thread of life +is snapped, not unravelled. This, however, did not satisfy +the coroner, who had, as he expressed it, a “duty to +perform,” and, who, certainly had five guineas for his fee: +he was a “medical coroner,” too, and therefore he would +examine for himself. Thus, in the midst of the affliction +and bereavement of a desolate family, the frightful +detail of an inquest, with all its attendant train of harrowing +and heart-rending inquiries, is carried on, simply +because it is permissible by the law, and the coroner may +enter where the king cannot.</p> + +<p>We are taught in the litany to pray against sudden +death; but up to this moment I never knew it was illegal. +Dreadful afflictions as apoplexy and aneurism are, +it remained for our present civilisation to make them +punishable by a statute. The march of intellect, not satisfied +with directing us in life, must go a step farther and +teach us how to die. Fashionable diseases the world has +been long acquainted with, but an “illegal inflammation,” +and a “criminal hemorrhage” have been reserved for the +enlightened age we live in.</p> + +<p>Newspapers will no longer inform us, in the habitual +phrase, that Mr. Simpkins died suddenly at his house at +Hampstead; but, under the head of “Shocking outrage,” +we shall read, “that after a long life of great respectability +and the exhibition of many virtues, this unfortunate +gentleman, it is hoped in a moment of mental alienation, +went off with a disease of the heart. The affliction of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +surviving relatives at this frightful act may be conceived, +but cannot be described. His effects, according to the +statute, have been confiscated to the crown, and a deodand +of fifty shillings awarded on the apothecary who +attended him. It is hoped, that the universal execration +which attends cases of this nature may deter others from +the same course; and, we confess, our observations +are directed with a painful, but we trust, a powerful interest +to certain elderly gentlemen in the neighbourhood +of Islington.” <i>Verb. sat.</i></p> + +<p>Under these sad circumstances it behoves us to look a +little about, and provide against such a contingency. It +is then earnestly recommended to heads of families, that +when registering the birth of a child, they should also include +some probable or possible malady of which he may, +could, would, should, or ought to die, in the course of +time. This will show, by incontestable evidence, that the +event was at least anticipated, and being done at the +earliest period of life, no reproach can possibly lie for +want of premeditation. The register might run thus:—</p> + +<p>Giles Tims, son of Thomas and Mary Tims, born on the +9th of June, Kent street, Southwark—dropsy, typhus, or +gout in the stomach.</p> + +<p>It by no means follows, that he must wait for one or other +of these maladies to carry him off. Not at all; he may +range at will through the whole practice of physic, and adopt +his choice. The registry only goes to show, that he does +not mean to sneak out of the world in any under-bred +way, nor bolt out of life with the abrupt precipitation of +a Frenchman after a dinner party. I have merely thrown +out this hint here as a warning to my many friends, and +shall now proceed to other and more pleasing topics.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_TOURISTS" id="A_NUT_FOR_TOURISTS"></a>A NUT FOR “TOURISTS.”</h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Among</span> the many incongruities of that composite piece +of architecture, called John Bull, there is nothing more +striking than the contrast between his thorough nationality +and his unbounded admiration for foreigners. Now, +although we may not entirely sympathize with, we can +understand and appreciate this feature of his character, +and see how he gratifies his very pride itself, in the attentions +and civilities he bestows upon strangers. The feeling +is intelligible too, because Frenchmen, Germans, and +even Italians, notwithstanding the many points of disparity +between us, have always certain qualities well worthy of +respect, if not of imitation. France has a great literature, +a name glorious in history, a people abounding in intelligence, +skill, and invention; in fact, all the attributes that +make up a great nation. Germany has many of these, +and though she lack the brilliant fancy, the sparkling wit +of her neighbour, has still a compensating fund in the rich +resources of her judgment, and the profound depths of her +scholarship. Indeed, every continental country has its +lesson for our benefit, and we would do well to cultivate +the acquaintance of strangers, not only to disseminate +more just views of ourselves and our institutions, but also +for the adoption of such customs as seem worthy of imitation, +and such habits as may suit our condition in life; +while such is the case as regards those countries high in +the scale of civilisation, we would, by no means, extend<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +the rule to others less happily constituted, less benignly +gifted. The Carinthian boor with his garment of sheep-wool, +or the Laplander with his snow shoes and his hood +of deerskin, may be both very natural objects of curiosity, +but by no means subjects of imitation. This point will +doubtless be conceded at once; and now, will any one tell +me for what cause, under what pretence, and with what +pretext are we civil to the Yankees?—not for their +politeness, not for their literature, not for any fascination +of their manner, nor any charm of their address, not for +any historic association, not for any halo that the glorious +past has thrown around the common-place monotony of the +present, still less for any romantic curiosity as to their +lives and habits—for in this respect all other savage +nations far surpass them. What then is, or what can be +the cause?</p> + +<p>Of all the lions that caprice and the whimsical absurdity +of a second-rate set in fashion ever courted and entertained, +never had any one less pretensions to the civility +he received than the author of ‘Pencillings by the Way’—poor +in thought, still poorer in expression, without a +spark of wit, without a gleam of imagination—a fourth-rate +looking man, and a fifth-rate talker, he continued to +receive the homage we were wont to bestow upon a Scott, +and even charily extended to a Dickens. His writings +the very slip-slop of “commerage,” the tittle-tattle of a +Sunday paper, dressed up in the cant of Kentucky; the +very titles, the contemptible affectation of unredeemed +twaddle, ‘Pencillings by the Way!’ ‘Letters from under +a Bridge!’ Good lack! how the latter name is suggestive +of eaves-dropping and listening; and how involuntarily +we call to mind those chance expressions of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +partners in the dance, or his companions at the table, +faithfully recorded for the edification of the free-born +Americans, who, while they ridicule our institutions, +endeavour to pantomime our manners.</p> + +<p>For many years past a number of persons have driven +a thriving trade in a singular branch of commerce, no less +than buying up cast court dresses and second-hand uniforms +for exportation to the colonies. The negroes, it is +said, are far prouder of figuring in the tattered and tarnished +fragments of former greatness, than of wearing the +less gaudy, but more useful garb, befitting their condition. +So it would seem our trans-Atlantic friends prefer importing +through their agents, for that purpose, the abandoned +finery of courtly gossip, to the more useful but less pretentious +apparel, of common-place information. Mr. Willis +was invaluable for this purpose; he told his friends every +thing that he heard, and he heard every thing that he +could; and, like mercy, he enjoyed a duplicate of blessings—for +while he was delighted in by his own countrymen, +he was dined by ours. He scattered his autographs, +as Feargus O’Connor did franks; he smiled; he ogled; +he read his own poetry, and went the whole lion with all +his might; and yet, in the midst of this, a rival starts up +equally desirous of court secrets, and fifty times as enterprising +in their search; he risks his liberty, perhaps his +life, in the pursuit, and what is his reward? I need only +tell you his name, and you are answered—I mean the boy +Jones; not under a bridge, but under a sofa; not in +Almacks, obtaining it at second-hand, but in Buckingham +Palace—into the very apartment of the Queen—the adventurous +youth has dared to insinuate himself. No lady +however sends her album to him for some memento of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +genius. His temple is not defrauded of its curls to grace +a locket or a medallion; and his reward, instead of a +supper at Lady Blessington’s, is a voyage to Swan River. +For my part, I prefer the boy Jones: I like his singleness +of purpose: I admire his steady perseverance; still, however, +he had the misfortune to be born in England—his +father lived near Wapping, and he was ineligible for a lion.</p> + +<p>To what other reason than his English growth can be +attributed the different treatment he has experienced at +the hands of the world. The similarity between the two +characters is most striking. Willis had a craving appetite +for court gossip, and the tittle-tattle of a palace: so had +the boy Jones. Willis established himself as a listener +in society: so did the boy Jones. Willis obtruded himself +into places, and among people where he had no possible +pretension to be seen: so did the boy Jones. Willis +wrote letters from under a bridge: the boy Jones eat +mutton chops under a sofa.</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_LEGAL_FUNCTIONARIES" id="A_NUT_FOR_LEGAL_FUNCTIONARIES"></a>A NUT FOR LEGAL FUNCTIONARIES.</h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> pet profession of England is the bar, and I see +many reasons why this should be the case. Our law of +primogeniture necessitates the existence of certain provisions +for younger children independently of the pittance +bestowed on them by their families. The army and the +navy, the church and the bar, form then the only avenues +to fortune for the highly born; and one or other of these +four roads must be adopted by him who would carve<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +out his own career. The bar, for many reasons, is the favourite—at +least among those who place reliance in their +intellect. Its estimation is high. It is not incompatible +but actually favourable to the pursuits of parliament. Its +rewards are manifold and great; and while there is a sufficiency +of private ease and personal retirement in its +practice, there is also enough of publicity for the most +ambitiously-minded seeker of the world’s applause and +the world’s admiration. Were we only to look back upon +our history, we should find perhaps that the profession of +the law would include almost two-thirds of our very +greatest men. Astute thinkers, deep politicians, eloquent +debaters, profound scholars, men of wit, as well as men +of wisdom, have abounded in its ranks, and there is +every reason why it should be, as I have called it, the +pet profession.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/illo030.jpg" width="450" height="679" alt="Legal Functionaries." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Legal Functionaries.</span> +</div> + +<p>Having conceded so much, may I now be permitted to +take a nearer view of those men so highly distinguished: +and for this purpose let me turn my reader’s attention to +the practice of a criminal trial. The first duty of a good +citizen, it will not be disputed, is, as far as in him lies, to +promote obedience to the law, to repress crime, and bring +outrage to punishment. No walk in life—no professional +career—no uniform of scarlet or of black—no freemasonry +of craft or calling can absolve him from this allegiance to +his country. Yet, what do we see? The wretch stained +with crime—polluted with iniquity—for which, perhaps, +the statute-book contains neither name nor indictment—whose +trembling lips are eager to avow that guilt which, +by confessing, he hopes may alleviate the penalty—this +man, I say, is checked in his intentions—he is warned +not, by any chance expression, to hazard a conviction of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +his crime, and told in the language of the law not to +criminate himself. But the matter stops not here—justice +is an inveterate gambler—she is not satisfied when +her antagonist throws his card upon the table confessing +that he has not a trump nor a trick in his hand—no, like +the most accomplished swindler of Baden or Boulogne, +she assumes a smile of easy and courteous benignity, and +says, pooh, pooh! nonsense, my dear friend; you don’t +know what may turn up; your cards are better than you +think; don’t be faint-hearted; don’t you see you have +the knave of trumps, <i>i. e.</i>, the cleverest lawyer for your +defender; a thousand things may happen; I may revoke, +that is, the indictment may break down; there are innumerable +chances in your favour, so pluck up your courage +and play the game out.</p> + +<p>He takes the advice, and however faint-hearted before, +he now assumes a look of stern courage, or dogged indifference, +and resolves to play for the stake. He remembers, +however, that he is no adept in the game, and he addresses +himself in consequence to some astute and subtle gambler, +to whom he commits his cards and his chances. The +trepidation or the indifference that he manifested before, +now gradually gives way; and however hopeless he had +deemed his case at first, he now begins to think that all is +not lost. The very way his friend, the lawyer, shuffles +and cuts the cards, imposes on his credulity and suggests +a hope. He sees at once that he is a practised hand, and +almost unconsciously he becomes deeply interested in the +changes and vacillations of the game he believed could +have presented but one aspect of fortune.</p> + +<p>But the prisoner is not my object: I turn rather to the +lawyer. Here then do we not see the accomplished gentleman—the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +finished scholar—the man of refinement and of +learning, of character and station—standing forth the very +embodiment of the individual in the dock? possessed of +all his secrets—animated by the same hopes—penetrated +by the same fears—he endeavours by all the subtle ingenuity, +with which craft and habit have gifted him, to +confound the testimony—to disparage the truth—to pervert +the inferences of all the witnesses. In fact, he +employs all the stratagems of his calling, all the ingenuity +of his mind, all the subtlety of his wit for the one end—that +the man he believes in his own heart guilty, may, on +the oaths of twelve honest men, be pronounced innocent.</p> + +<p>From the opening of the trial to its close, this mental +gladiator is an object of wonder and dread. Scarcely a +quality of the human mind is not exhibited by him in the +brilliant panorama of his intellect. At first, the patient +perusal of a complex and wordy indictment occupies him +exclusively: he then proceeds to cross-examine the witnesses—flattering +this one—brow-beating that—suggesting—insinuating—amplifying, +or retrenching, as the evidence +would seem to favour or be adverse to his client. He is +alternately confident and doubtful, headlong and hesitating—now +hurried away on the full tide of his eloquence +he expatiates in beautiful generalities on the glorious +institution of trial by jury, and apostrophizes justice; or +now, with broken utterance and plaintive voice, he supplicates +the jury to be patient, and be careful in the decision +they may come to. He implores them to remember +that when they leave that court, and return to the happy +comforts of their home, conscience will follow them, and +the everlasting question crave for answer within them—were +they sure of this man’s guilt? He teaches them how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +fallacious are all human tests; he magnifies the slightest +discrepancy of evidence into a broad and sweeping contradiction; +and while, with a prophetic menace, he +pictures forth the undying remorse that pursues him who +sheds innocent blood, he dismisses them with an affecting +picture of mental agony so great—of suffering so heart-rending, +that, as they retire to the jury-room, there is not +a man of the twelve that has not more or less of a <i>personal</i> +interest in the acquittal of the prisoner.</p> + +<p>However bad, however depraved the human mind, it +still leans to mercy: the power to dispose of another +man’s life is generally sufficient for the most malignant +spirit in its thirst for vengeance. What then are the feelings +of twelve calm, and perhaps, benevolent men, at a +moment like this? The last words of the advocate have +thrown a new element into the whole case, for independent +of their verdict upon the prisoner comes now the +direct appeal to their own hearts. How will they feel +when they reflect on this hereafter? I do not wish to +pursue this further. It is enough for my present purpose +that, by the ingenuity of the lawyer, criminals have +escaped, do escape, and are escaping, the just sentence on +their crimes. What then is the result? the advocate, who +up to this moment has maintained a familiar, even a +friendly, intimacy with his client in the dock, now shrinks +from the very contamination of his look. He cannot bear +that the blood-stained fingers should grasp the hem of his +garment, and he turns with a sense of shame from the +expressions of a gratitude that criminate him in his own +heart. However, this is but a passing sensation; he +divests himself of his wig and gown, and overwhelmed +with congratulations for his brilliant success, he springs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +into his carriage and goes home to dress for dinner—for +on that day he is engaged to the Chancellor, the +Bishop of London, or some other great and revered +functionary—the guardian of the church, or the custodian +of conscience.</p> + +<p>Now, there is only one thing in all this I would wish +to bring strikingly before the mind of my readers, and that +is, that the lawyer, throughout the entire proceeding, was +a free and a willing agent. There was neither legal nor +moral compulsion to urge him on. No; it was no intrepid +defence against the tyranny of a government or the usurpation +of power—it was the assertion of no broad and +immutable principle of truth or justice—it was simply a +matter of legal acumen and persuasive eloquence, to the +amount of fifty pounds sterling.</p> + +<p>This being admitted, let me now proceed to consider +another functionary, and observe how far the rule of right +is consulted in the treatment <i>he</i> meets with—I mean the +hangman. You start, good reader, and your gesture of +impatience denotes the very proposition I would come to. +I need scarcely remind you, that in our country this +individual has a kind of prerogative of detestation. All +other ranks and conditions of men may find a sympathy, +or at least a pity, somewhere, but for him there is none. +No one is sufficiently debased to be his companion,—no +one so low as to be his associate! Like a being of another +sphere, he appears but at some frightful moments of life, +and then only for a few seconds. For the rest he drags +on existence unseen and unheard of, his very name a +thing to tremble at. Yet this man, in the duties of his +calling, has neither will nor choice. The stern agent of +the law, he has but one course to follow; his path, a narrow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +one, has no turning to the right or to the left, and, save +that his ministry is more proximate, is less accessory to +the death of the criminal than he who signs the warrant +for execution. In fact, he but answers the responses of +the law, and in the loud amen of his calling, he only consummates +its recorded assertion. How then can you +reconcile yourself to the fact, that while you overwhelm +the advocate who converts right into wrong and wrong +into right, who shrouds the guilty man, and conceals the +murderer, with honour, and praise, and rank, and riches, +and who does this for a brief marked fifty pounds, yet +have nothing but abhorrence and detestation for the impassive +agent whose fee is but one. One can help what +he does—the other cannot. One is an amateur—the other +practices in spite of himself. One employs every energy +of his mind and every faculty of his intellect—the other +only devotes the ingenuity of his fingers. One strains +every nerve to let loose a criminal upon the world—the +other but closes the grave over guilt and crime!</p> + +<p>The king’s counsel is courted. His society sought for. +He is held in high esteem, and while his present career is +a brilliant one in the vista before him, his eyes are fixed +upon the ermine. Jack Ketch, on the other hand, is +shunned. His companionship avoided, and the only futurity +he can look to, is a life of ignominy, and after it an +unknown grave. Let him be a man of fascinating manners, +highly gifted, and agreeable; let him be able to +recount with the most melting pathos the anecdotes and +incidents of his professional career, throwing light upon +the history of his own period—such as none but himself +could throw;—let him speak of the various characters +that have <i>passed through his hands</i>, and so to say, “dropped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +off before him”—yet the prejudice of the world is an +obstacle not to be overcome; his calling is in disrepute, +and no personal efforts of his own, no individual pre-eminence +he may arrive at in his walk, will ever redeem it. +Other men’s estimation increases as they distinguish themselves +in life; each fresh display of their abilities, each +new occasion for the exercise of their powers, is hailed +with renewed favour and increasing flattery; not so he,—every +time he appears on his peculiar stage, the disgust +and detestation is but augmented,—<i>vires acquirit eundo</i>,—his +countenance, as it becomes known, is a signal for the +yelling execrations of a mob, and the very dexterity with +which he performs his functions, is made matter of loathing +and horror. Were his duties such as might be carried +on in secret, he might do good by stealth and blush to find +it fame; but no, his attributes demand the noon-day and +the multitude—the tragedy he performs in, must be played +before tens of thousands, by whom his every look is +scowled at, his every gesture scrutinized. But to conclude,—this +man is a necessity of our social system. We want +him—we require him, and we can’t do without him. +Much of the machinery of a trial might be dispensed with +or retrenched. His office, however, has nothing superfluous. +He is part of the machinery of our civilisation, +and on what principle do we hunt him down like a wild +beast to his lair?</p> + +<p>Men of rank and title are daily to be found in association, +and even intimacy with black legs and bruisers, +grooms, jockeys, and swindlers; yet we never heard that +even the Whigs paid any attention to a hangman, nor is +his name to be found even in the list of a Radical viceroy’s +levee. However, we do not despair. Many prejudices<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +of this nature have already given way, and many absurd +notions have been knocked on the head by a wag of great +Daniel’s tail. And if our friend of Newgate, who is +certainly anti-union in his functions, will only cry out for +Repeal, the justice that is entreated for all Ireland may +include him in the general distribution of its favours. +Poor Theodore Hook used to say, that marriage was like +hanging, there being only the difference of an aspirate +between halter and altar.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo039.jpg" width="200" height="187" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_ENDURING_AFFECTION" id="A_NUT_FOR_ENDURING_AFFECTION"></a>A NUT FOR “ENDURING AFFECTION.”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo040.jpg" width="200" height="217" alt="M" title="M" /> +</div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em; padding-top: 0.5em"><span class="smcap">y</span> dear reader, if it does not +insult your understanding by +the self-evidence of the query, +will you allow me to ask you +a question—which of the two +is more culpable, the man +who, finding himself in a path +of dereliction, arrests himself +in his downward career, and, +by a wonderful effort of self-restraint, +stops dead short, and will suffer no inducement, +no seduction, to lead him one step further; or he, who, +floating down the stream of his own vicious passions, +takes the flood-tide of iniquity, and, indifferent to every +consequence, deaf to all remonstrance, seeks but the indulgence +of his own egotistical pleasure with a stern determination +to pursue it to the last? Of course you will +say, that he who repents is better than he who persists; +there is hope for the one, there is none for the other. +Yet would you believe it, our common law asserts directly +the reverse, pronouncing the culpability of the former as +meriting heavy punishment, while the latter is not assailable +even by implication.</p> + +<p>That I may make myself more clear, I shall give an +instance of my meaning. Scarcely a week passes over +without a trial for breach of promise of marriage. Sometimes +the gay Lothario, to use the phrase of the newspapers, +is nineteen, sometimes ninety. In either case<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +his conduct is a frightful tissue of perjured vows and +base deception. His innumerable letters breathing all +the tenderness of affectionate solicitude, intended but +for the eyes of her he loves, are read in open court; +attested copies are shown to the judge, or handed up to +the jury-box. The course of his true love is traced from +the bubbling fountain of first acquaintance to the broad +river of his passionate devotion. Its rapids and its whirlpools, +its placid lakes, its frothy torrents, its windings +and its turnings, its ebbs and flows, are discussed, detailed, +and descanted on with all the hacknied precision +of the craft, as though his heart was a bill of exchange, +or the current of his affection a disputed mill-stream. +And what, after all, is this man’s crime? knowing +that love is the great humanizer of our race, and feeling +probably how much he stands in need of some civilizing +process, he attaches himself to some lovely and attractive +girl, who, in the reciprocity of her affection, is herself +benefited in a degree equal to him. If the soft solicitude +of the tender passion, if its ennobling self-respect, if its +purifying influence on the heart, be good for the man, how +much more so is it for the woman. If <i>he</i> be taught to +feel how the refined enjoyments of an attractive girl’s +mind are superior to the base and degenerate pursuits of +every-day pleasure, how much more will <i>she</i> learn to +prize and cultivate those gifts which form the charm of +her nature, and breathe an incense of fascination around +her steps. Here is a compact where both parties benefit, +but that they may do so to the fullest extent, it is necessary +that no self-interest, no mean prospect of individual +advantage, should interfere: all must be pure and confiding. +Love-making should not be like a game of <i>écarté</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +with a black leg, where you must not rise from the table, +till you are ruined. No! it should rather resemble a +party at picquet with your pretty cousin, when the +moment either party is tired, you may throw down the +cards and abandon the game.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo042.jpg" width="200" height="190" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>This, then, is the case of the man; he either discovers +that on further acquaintance the qualities he believed in +were not so palpable as he thought, or, if there, marred in +their exercise by opposing and antagonist forces, of whose +existence he knew not, he thinks he detects discrepancies +of temperament, disparities of taste; he foresees that in +the channel where he looked for deep water there are so +many rocks, and shoals, and quicksands, that he fears the +bark of conjugal happiness may be shipwrecked upon +them; and, like a prudent mariner, he resolves to lighten +the craft by “throwing over the lady.” Had this man +married with all these impending suspicions on his mind, +there is little doubt he would have made a most execrable +husband; not to mention the danger that his wife should +not be all amiable as she ought. He stops short—that is, +he explains in one, perhaps in a series of letters, the +reasons of his new course. +He expects in return the +admiration and esteem of +her, for whose happiness he +is legislating, as well as for +his own; and oh, base ingratitude! +he receives a letter +from her attorney. The +gentlemen of the long robe—newspaper +again—are in +ecstasies. Like devils on the arrival of a new soul, they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +brighten up, rub their hands, and congratulate each other +on a glorious case. The damages are laid at five thousand +pounds; and, as the lady is pretty, and can be seen from +the jury-box, being fathers themselves, they award every +sixpence of the money.</p> + +<p>I can picture to myself the feeling of the defendant at +such a moment as this. As he stands alone in conscious +honesty, ruminating on his fate—alone, I say, for, like +Mahomet’s coffin, he has no resting-place; laughed at by +the men, sneered at by the women, mulcted of perhaps +half his fortune, merely because for the last three years +of his life he represented himself in every amiable and +attractive trait that can grace and adorn human nature. +Who would wonder, if, like the man in the farce, he +would register a vow never to do a good-natured thing +again as long as he lives; or what respect can he have for +a government or a country, where the church tells him to +love his neighbour, and the chief justice makes him pay +five thousand for his obedience.</p> + +<p>I now come to the other case, and I shall be very brief +in my observations. I mean that of him, who equally +fond of flirting as the former, has yet a lively fear of an +action at law. Love-making with him is a necessity of +his existence—he is an Irishman, perhaps, and it is as +indispensable to his temperament as train-oil to a Russian. +He likes sporting, he likes billiards, he likes his club, and +he likes the ladies; but he has just as much intention of +turning a huntsman at the one, or a marker at the other, +as he has of matrimony. He knows life is a chequered +table, and that there could be no game if all the squares +were of one colour. He alternates, therefore, between +love and sporting, between cards and courtship, and as the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +pursuit is a pleasant one, he resolves never to give up. +He waxes old, therefore, with young habits, adapting his +tastes to his time of life; he does not kneel so often at +forty as he did at twenty, but he ogles the more, and is +twice as good-tempered. Not perhaps as ready to fight +for the lady, but ten times more disposed to flatter her. +She may love him, or she may not; she may receive him +as of old, or she may marry another. What matters it to +him? All his care is that <i>he</i> shouldn’t change. All his +anxiety is, to let the rupture, if there must be one, proceed +from <i>her</i> side. He knows in his heart the penalty of +breach of promise, but he also knows that the Chancellor +can issue no injunction compelling a man to marry, and +that in the courts of love the bills are payable at +convenience.</p> + +<p>Here, then, are the two cases, which, in conformity with +the world’s opinion, I have dignified with every possible +term of horror and reproach. In the one, the measure of +iniquity is but half filled; in the other, the cup is overflowing +at the brim. For the lesser offence, the law +awards damages and defamation: for the greater, society +pronounces an eulogy upon the enduring fidelity of the +man thus faithful to a first love.</p> + +<p>If a person about to buy a horse should, on trying him +for an hour or two, discover that his temper did not suit +him, or that his paces were not pleasant, and should in +consequence restore him to the owner: and if another, on +the same errand, should come day after day for weeks, or +months, or even years, cantering him about over the +pavement, and scouring over the whole country; his +answer being, when asked if he intended to purchase, +that he liked the horse exceedingly, but that he hadn’t<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +got a stable, or a saddle, or a curb-chain, or, in fact, some +one or other of the little necessaries of horse gear; but that +when he had, that was exactly the animal to suit him—he +never was better carried in his life. Which of these +two, do you esteem the more honest and more honourable?</p> + +<p>When you make up your mind, please also to make the +application.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo045.jpg" width="200" height="184" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_THE_POLICE_AND_SIR_PETER" id="A_NUT_FOR_THE_POLICE_AND_SIR_PETER"></a>A NUT FOR THE POLICE AND SIR PETER.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo046.jpg" width="200" height="214" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em"><span class="smcap">When</span> the Belgians, by their most +insane revolution, separated +from the Dutch, they assumed +for their national motto the +phrase “<i>L’union fait la +force</i>.” It is difficult to say +whether their rebellion towards +the sovereign, or this +happy employment of a bull, +it was, that so completely +captivated our illustrious countryman, Dan, and excited +so warmly his sympathies for that beer-drinking +population. After all, why should one quarrel with +them? Nations, like individuals, have their coats-of-arms, +their heraldic insignia, their blazons, and their garters, +frequently containing the sharpest sarcasm and most +poignant satire upon those who bear them; and in this +respect Belgium is only as ridiculous as the attorney who +assumed for his motto “<i>Fiat justitia</i>.” Time was when +the chivalrous line of our own garter, “<i>Honi soit qui mal +y pense</i>,” brought with it, its bright associations of kingly +courtesy and maiden bashfulness: but what sympathy +can such a sentiment find in these degenerate days of +railroads and rack-rents, canals, collieries, and chain-bridges? +No, were we now to select an inscription, +much rather would we take it from the prevailing passion<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +of the age, and write beneath the arms of our land the +emphatic phrase, “Push along, keep moving.”</p> + +<p>If Englishmen have failed to exhibit in machinery that +triumphant El Dorado called perpetual motion, in revenge +for their failure, they resolved to exemplify it in themselves. +The whole nation, from John o’ Groat to Land’s +End, from Westport to Dover, are playing cross-corners. +Every body and every thing is on the move. A dwelling-house, +like an umbrella, is only a thing used on an emergency; +and the inhabitants of Great Britain pass their +lives amid the smoke of steam-boats, or the din and thunder +of the Grand-Junction. From the highest to the lowest, +from the peer to the peasant, from the lord of the +treasury to the Irish haymaker, it is one universal +“<i>chassée croissée</i>.” Not only is this fashionable—for we +are told by the newspapers how the Queen walks daily +with Prince Albert on “the slopes”—but stranger still, locomotion +is a law of the land, and standing still is a statutable +offence. The hackney coachman, with wearied +horses, blown and broken-winded, dares not breathe his +jaded beasts by a momentary pull-up, for the implacable +policeman has his eye upon him, and he must simulate a +trot, though his pace but resemble a stage procession, +where the legs are lifted without progressing, and some +fifty Roman soldiers, in Wellington boots, are seen vainly +endeavouring to push forward. The foot-passenger is no +better off—tired perhaps with walking or attracted by the +fascinations of a print-shop, he stops for an instant: alas, +that luxury may cost him dear, and for the momentary +pleasure he may yet have to perform a quick step on the +mill. “Move on, sir. Keep moving, if you please,” sayeth +the gentleman in blue; and there is something in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +manner that won’t be denied. It is useless to explain +that you have nowhere particular to go to, that you are +an idler and a lounger. The confession is a fatal one; +and however respectable your appearance, the idea of +shoplifting is at once associated with your pursuits. Into +what inconsistencies do we fall while multiplying our +laws, for while we insist upon progression, we announce a +penalty for vagrancy. The first principle of the British +constitution, however, is “keep moving,” and “I would +recommend you to go with the tide.”</p> + +<p>Thank heaven, I have reached to man’s estate—although +with a heavy heart I acknowledge it is the only estate I +have or ever shall attain to; for if I were a child I don’t +think I should close my eyes at night from the fear of one +frightful and terrific image. As it is, I am by no means +over courageous, and it requires all the energy I can summon +to combat my terrors. You ask me, in all likelihood, +what this fearful thing can be? Is it the plague or the +cholera? is it the dread of poverty and the new poor-law? +is it that I may be impressed as a seaman, or mistaken for +a Yankee? or is it some unknown and visionary terror, +unseen, unheard of, but foreshadowed by a diseased +imagination; No; nothing of the kind. It is a palpable, +sentient, existent thing—neither more nor less than the +worshipful Sir Peter Laurie.</p> + +<p>Every newspaper you take up announces that Sir Peter, +with a hearty contempt for the brevity of the fifty folio +volumes that contain the laws of our land, in the plenitude +of his power and the fulness of his imagination, keeps +adding to the number; so that if length of years be only +accorded to that amiable individual in proportion to his +merits, we shall find at length that not only will every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +contingency of our lives be provided for by the legislature, +but that some standard for personal appearance will also +be adopted, to which we must conform as rigidly as to +our oath of allegiance.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo049.jpg" width="200" height="195" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>A few days ago a miserable creature, a tailor we believe, +some decimal fraction of humanity, was brought up before +Sir Peter on a trifling charge of some kind or other. I +forget his offence, but whatever it was, the penalty annexed +to it was but a fine of half-a-crown. The prisoner, +however, who behaved with propriety and decorum, happened +to have long black hair, which he wore somewhat +“<i>en jeune France</i>” upon his +neck and shoulders; his locks, +if not ambrosial, were tastefully +curled, and bespoke the +fostering hand of care and attention. +The Rhadamanthus +of the police-office, however, +liked them not: whether it +was that he wore a Brutus +himself, or that his learned +cranium had resisted all the efficacy of Macassar, I cannot +say; but certain it is, that the tailor’s ringlets gave him +the greatest offence, and he apostrophised the wearer in +the most solemn manner:</p> + +<p>“I have sat,” said he, “for ——,” as I quote from +memory I sha’n’t say how many, “years upon the bench, +and I never yet met an honest man with long hair. The +worst feature in your case is your ringlets. There is something +so disgusting to me in the odious and abominable +vice you have indulged in, that I feel myself warranted +in applying to you the heaviest penalty of the law.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>The miserable man, we are told, fell upon his knees, +confessed his delinquency, and, being shorn of his locks +in the presence of a crowded court, his fine was remitted, +and he was liberated.</p> + +<p>Now, perhaps, you will suppose that all this is a mere +matter of invention. On the faith of an honest man I +assure you it is not. I have retrenched considerably the +pathetic eloquence of the magistrate, and I have left altogether +untouched the poor tailor’s struggle between pride +and poverty—whether, on the one hand, to suffer the loss +of his <i>half</i>-crown, or, on the other, to submit to the desecration +of his <i>entire</i> head. We hear a great deal about a +law for the rich, and another for the poor; and certainly +in this case I am disposed to think the complaint might +not seem without foundation. Suppose for a moment that +the prisoner in this case had been the Honourable Augustus +Somebody, who appeared before his worship fashionably +attired, and with hair, beard, and moustache far surpassing +in extravagance the poor tailor’s; should we then +have heard this beautiful apostrophe to “the croppies,” this +thundering denunciation of ringlets? I half fear not. And +yet, under what pretext does a magistrate address to one +man, the insulting language he would not dare apply to +another? Or let us suppose the rule of justice to be +inflexible, and look at the result. What havoc would Sir +Peter make among the Guards? ay, even in the household +of her Majesty how many delinquents would he find? +what a scene would not the clubs present, on the police +authorities dropping suddenly down amongst them with +rule and line to determine the statute length of their +whiskers, or the legal cut of their eye-brows? Happy +King of Hanover, were you still amongst us, not even the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +Alliance would insure your mustachoes. As for Lord +Ellenborough, it is now clear enough why he accepted the +government of India, and made such haste to get out of +the country.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo051.jpg" width="200" height="200" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Now we will suppose that as Sir Peter Laurie’s antipathy +is long hair, Sir Frederick Roe may also have his +dislikes. It is but fair, you will allow, that the privileges +of the bench should be equal. Well, for argument’s sake, +I will imagine that Sir Frederick Roe has not the same +horror of long hair as his learned brother, but has the +most unconquerable aversion +to long noses. What are we +to do here? Heaven help +half our acquaintance if this +should strike him! What is +to be done with Lord Allen +if he beat a watchman! In +what a position will he +stand if he fracture a lamp? +One’s hair may be cut to +any length,—it may be even shaved clean off; but +your nose.—And then a few weeks,—a few months at +farthest, and your hair has grown again: but your nose, +like your reputation, can only stand one assault. This is +really a serious view of the subject; and it is a somewhat +hard thing that the face you have shown to your acquaintances +for years past, with pleasure to yourself and satisfaction +to them, should be pronounced illegal, or curtailed +in its proportions. They have a practice in banks if a +forged note be presented for payment, to mark it in a +peculiar manner before restoring it to the owner. This +is technically called “raddling.” Something similar, I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +suppose, will be adopted at the police-office, and in case of +refusal to conform your features to the rule of Roe, you will +be raddled by an officer appointed for the purpose, and sent +forth upon the world the mere counterfeit of humanity.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo052.jpg" width="200" height="216" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>What a glorious thing it would be for this great country, +if, having equalized throughout the kingdom the +weights, the measures, the miles, and the currency, we +should, at length attain to an equalization in appearance. +The “facial angle” will then have its application in +reality, and, instead of the tiresome detail of an Old +Bailey trial, we shall hear a judge sum up on the externals +of a prisoner, merely directing the attention of the +jury to the atrocious irregularity of his teeth, or the assassin-like +sharpness of his under-jaw. Honour to you, Sir +Peter, should this great improvement grow out of your +innovation; and proud may the country well be, that +acknowledges you among its lawgivers!</p> + + +<p>Let men no longer indulge in that absurd fiction +which represents justice as blind. On the contrary, +with an eye like Canova’s, and a glance quick, sharp, +and penetrating as Flaxman’s, she traces every lineament +and every feature; and +Landseer will confess himself +vanquished by Laurie. “The +pictorial school of judicial +investigation” will now become +fashionable, and if +Sir Peter’s practice be but +transmitted, surgeons will not +be the only professional men +who will commence their +education with the barbers.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_THE_BUDGET" id="A_NUT_FOR_THE_BUDGET"></a>A NUT FOR THE BUDGET.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo053.jpg" width="200" height="182" alt="I" title="I" /> +</div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em"><span class="smcap">remember</span> once coming into +Matlock, on the top of the +“Peveril of the Peak,” when +the coachman who drove +our four spanking thorough-breds +contrived, in something +less than five minutes, +to excite his whole team to +the very top of their temper, +lifting the wheelers almost +off the ground with his heavy lash, and, thrashing his +leaders till they smoked with passion, he brought them +up to the inn door trembling with rage, and snorting with +anger. What the devil is all this for, thought I. He +guessed at once what was passing in my mind, and, with +a knowing touch of his elbow, whispered:—</p> + +<p>“There’s a new coachman a-going to try ’em, and I’ll +leave him a precious legacy.”</p> + +<p>This is precisely what the Whigs did in their surrender +of power to the Tories. They, indeed, left them a +precious legacy:—without an ally abroad, with discontent +and starvation at home, distant and expensive wars, +depressed trade, and bankrupt speculation, form some +portion of the valuable heritage they bequeathed to their +heirs in power. The most sanguine saw matter of difficulty, +and the greater number of men were tempted to +despair at the prospects of the Conservative party; for,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +however happily all other questions may have terminated, +they still see, in the corn-law, a point whose subtle +difficulty would seem inaccessible to legislation. Ah! +could the two great parties, that divide the state, only lay +their heads together for a short time, and carry out that +beautiful principle that Scribe announces in one of his +vaudevilles:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Que le blé se vend chèr, et le pain bon marché.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And why, after all, should not the collective wisdom +of England be able to equal in ingenuity the conceptions +of a farce-writer? Meanwhile, it is plain that political +dissensions, and the rivalries of party, will prevent that +mutual good understanding which might prove so beneficial +to all. Reconciliations are but flimsy things at best; and +whether the attempt be made to conciliate two rival +churches, two opposite factions, or two separate interests +of any kind whatever, it is usually a failure. It, therefore, +becomes the duty of every good subject, and, <i>à fortiori</i>, +of every good Conservative, to bestir himself at the +present moment, and see what can be done to retrieve +the sinking fortune of the state. Taxation, like flogging +in the army, never comes on the right part of the back. +Sometimes too high, sometimes too low. There is no +knowing where to lay it on. Besides that, we have by +this time got such a general raw all over us, there isn’t +a square inch of sound flesh that presents itself for a new +infliction. Since the first French Revolution, the ingenuity +of man has been tortured on the subject of finance; +and had Dionysius lived in our days, instead of offering a +bounty for the discovery of a new pleasure, he would +have proposed a reward to the man who devised a new tax.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> + +<p>Without entering at any length into this subject, the +consideration of which would lead me into all the details +of our every-day habits, I pass on at once to the question +which has induced this inquiry, while I proclaim to the +world loudly, fearlessly, and resolutely, “Eureka!”—I’ve +found it. Yes, my fellow-countrymen, I have found +a remedy to supply the deficient income of the nation, not +only without imposing a new tax, or inflicting a new +burden upon the suffering community, but also without +injuring vested rights, or thwarting the activity of commercial +enterprise. I neither mulct cotton or corn; I +meddle not with parson or publican, nor do I make any +portion of the state, by its own privations, support the +well-being of the rest. On the contrary, the only individual +concerned in my plan, will not be alone benefited +in a pecuniary point of view, but the best feelings of the +heart will be cultivated and strengthened, and the love +of home, so characteristically English, fostered in their +bosoms. I could almost grow eloquent upon the benefits +of my discovery; but I fear, that were I to give way to +this impulse, I should become so fascinated with myself, +I could scarcely turn to the less seductive path of simple +explanation. Therefore, ere it be too late, let me open +my mind and unfold my system:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“What great effects from little causes spring.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Any one who ever heard of Sir Isaac Newton and his +apple will acknowledge this, and something of the same +kind led me to the very remarkable fact I am about to +speak of.</p> + +<p>One of the Bonaparte family—as well as I remember, +Jerome—was one night playing whist at the same table<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +with Talleyrand, and having dropped a crown piece upon +the floor, he interrupted the game, and deranged the +whole party to search for his money. Not a little +provoked by a meanness which he saw excited the ridicule +of many persons about, Talleyrand deliberately folded up +a bank-note which lay before him, and, lighting it at the +candle, begged, with much courtesy, that he might be +permitted to assist in the search. This story, which is +authentic, would seem an admirable parody on a portion +of our criminal law. A poor man robs the community, or +some member of it (for that comes to the same thing) to +the amount of one penny. He is arrested by a policeman, +whose salary is perhaps half-a-crown a-day, and conveyed +to a police-office, that cost at least five hundred pounds +to build it. Here are found three or four more officials, +all salaried—all fed, and clothed by the State. In due +course of time he is brought up before a magistrate, also +well paid, by whom the affair is investigated, and by him +he is afterwards transmitted to the sessions, where a new +army of stipendiaries all await him. But his journey is +not ended. Convicted of his offence, he is sentenced to +seven years’ transportation to one of the most remote +quarters of the globe. To convey him thither the government +have provided a ship and a crew, a supercargo and +a surgeon; and, to sum up in one word, before he has +commenced the expiation of his crime, that penny has +cost the country something about three hundred pounds. +Is not this, I ask you, very like Talleyrand and the +Prince?—the only difference being, that we perform in +sober earnest, what he merely exhibited in sarcasm.</p> + +<p>Now, my plan is, and I prefer to develop it in a single +word, instead of weakening its force by circumlocution.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +In lieu of letting a poor man be reduced to his theft of +one penny—give him two pence. <i>He</i> will be a gainer by +double the amount—not to speak of the inappreciable +value of his honesty—and <i>you</i> the richer by 71,998 pence, +under your present system expended upon policemen, +magistrates, judges, gaolers, turnkeys, and transports. +Examine for a moment the benefits of this system. Look +at the incalculable advantages it presents—the enormous +revenue, the pecuniary profit, and the patriotism, all preserved +to the State, not to mention the additional pleasure +of disseminating happiness while you transport men’s +hearts, not their bodies.</p> + +<p>Here is a plan based upon the soundest philanthropy, +the most rigid economy, and the strictest common sense. +Instead of training up a race of men in some distant +quarter of the globe, who may yet turn your bitterest +enemies, you will preserve to the country so many true-born +Britons, bound to you by a debt of gratitude. Upon +what ground—on what pretext—can you oppose the +system? Do you openly confess that you prefer vice to +poverty, and punishment to prevention? Or is it your +pleasure to manufacture roguery for exportation, as the +French do politeness, and the Irish linen?</p> + +<p>I offer the suggestion generously, freely, and spontaneously. +If the heads of the government choose to +profit by the hint, I only ask in return, that when the +Chancellor of the Exchequer announces in his place the +immense reduction of expenditure, that he will also give +notice of a motion for a bill to reward me by a government +appointment. I am not particular as to where, or what: +I only bargain against being Secretary for Ireland, or Chief +Justice at Cape Coast Castle.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_REPEAL" id="A_NUT_FOR_REPEAL"></a>A NUT FOR REPEAL.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">When</span> the cholera first broke out in France, a worthy +prefect in a district of the south published an edict to the +people, recommending them by all means to eat well-cooked +and nutritious food, and drink nothing but <i>vin de +Bourdeaux</i>, Anglice, claret. The advice was excellent, +and I take it upon me to say, would have found very few +opponents in fact, as it certainly did in principle. When +the world, however, began to consider that <i>filets de bœuf +à la Marengo</i>, and “<i>dindes truffées</i>,” washed down with +<i>Chateau Lafitte</i> or <i>Larose</i>, were not exactly within the +reach of every class of the community, they deemed the +prefect’s counsel more humane than practicable, and as +they do at every thing in France when the tide of public +opinion changes, they laughed at him heartily, and wrote +pasquinades upon his folly. At the same time the ridicule +was unjust, the advice was good, sound, and based on true +principles, the only mistake was, the difficulty of its practice. +Had he recommended as an antiseptic to disease, +that the people should play short whist, wear red night-caps, +or pelt stones at each other, there might have been +good ground for the disfavour he fell into; such acts, +however practicable and easy of execution, having manifestly +no tendency to avert the cholera. Now this is +precisely the state of matters in Ireland at this moment: +distress prevails more or less in every province and in +every county. The people want employment, and they +want food. Had you recommended them to eat strawberries<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +and cream in the morning, to drink lemonade +during the day, take a little chicken salad for dinner, +with a light bread pudding and a glass of negus afterwards, +avoiding all stimulant and exciting food—for your +Irishman is a feverish subject—you might be laughed at +perhaps for your dietary, but certes it would bear, and +bear strongly too, upon the case in question. But what +do you do in reality? The local papers teem with cases +of distress: families are starving; the poor, unhoused and +unfed, are seen upon the road sides exposed to every +vicissitude of the season, surrounded by children who cry +in vain for bread. What, I ask, is the measure of relief +you propose? not a public subscription; no general outburst +of national charity—no public work upon a grand +scale to give employment to the idle, food to the hungry, +health to the sick, and hope to all. None of these. Your +panacea is the Repeal of the Union; you purpose to substitute +for those amiable jobbers in College-green, who call +themselves Directors of the Bank of Ireland, another set +of jobbers infinitely more pernicious and really dishonest, +who will call themselves Directors of Ireland itself; you +talk of the advantage to the country, and particularly of +the immense benefits that must accrue to the capital. +Let us examine them a little.</p> + +<p>Dublin, you say, will be a flourishing city, inhabited by +lords and ladies: wealth, rank, and influence will dwell +in its houses and parade its streets. The glare of lamps, +the crash of carriages, all the pride, pomp, and circumstances +of fashion, will flow back upon the long-deserted +land, and Paris and London will find a rival to compete +with them, in this small city of the west. Would that +this were so; would that it could be! This, however, is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +the extent of what you promise yourselves: you may +ring the changes as you please, but the “refrain” of your +song is, that Dublin shall “have its own again.” Well, for +argument’s sake, I say, be it so. The now silenced squares +shall wake to the echoes of thundering equipages, peers +and prelates shall again inhabit the dwellings long since +the residence of hotel-keepers, or still worse, those little +democracies of social life, called boarding-houses. Your +theatre shall be crowded, your shops frequented, and every +advantage of wealth diffused through all the channels of +society, shall be yours. As far as Dublin is concerned, I +say—for, mark me, I keep you to this original point, in +the land of your promise you have strictly limited the +diffusion of your blessings by the boundary of the Circular +road; even the people at Ringsend and Ballybough +bridge are not to be included, unless a special bill be +brought in for their benefit. Still the picture is a brilliant +one: it would be a fine thing to see all the pomp and +ceremony of proud popery walk the land at noon-day, +with its saints in gold, and its relics in silver; for of +course this is included in the plan. Prosperous Ireland +must be Catholic Ireland, and even Spain and Belgium +will hide their diminished heads when compared with the +gorgeous homage rendered to popery at home. The “gentlemen +of Liffey-street chapel,” far better-looking fellows +than any foreign priest you’ll meet with from Trolhatten +to Tivoli, will walk about <i>in pontificalibus</i>; and all the +exciting enthusiasm that Romanism so artfully diffuses +through every feature of life, will introduce itself among +a people who have all the warm temper and hot blood of +the south, with the stern determination and headlong +impulse of the north of Europe. By all of which I mean<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +to say, that in points of strong popery, Dublin will beat +the world, and that before a year of such prosperity +be past, she will have the finest altars, the fattest priests, +and the longest catalogue of miracles in Europe. Lord +Shrewsbury need not then go to the Tyrol for an “estatica,” +he’ll find one nearer home worth twice the money. The +shin-bone of St. Januarius, that jumped out of a wooden +box in a hackney coach, because a gentleman swore, will +be nothing to the scenes we’ll witness; and if St. Patrick +should sport his tibia at an evening party of Daniel O’Connell’s, +it would not in the least surprise me. These are +great blessings, and I am fully sensible of them. Now +let me pass on to another, which perhaps I have kept last +as it is the chief of all, or as the late Lord Castlereagh +would have said, the “fundamental feature upon which +my argument hinges.”</p> + +<p>A very common topic of Irish eloquence is, to lament +over the enormous exportation of cattle, fowl, and fish, +that continually goes forward from Ireland into England. +I acknowledge the justness of the complaint—I see its +force, and appreciate its value. It is exactly as though a +grocer should exclaim against his misery, in being compelled +to part with his high-flavoured bohea, his sparkling +lump sugar, and his Smyrna figs, or our publisher his +books, for the base lucre of gain. It is humiliating, I confess; +and I can well see how a warm-hearted and intelligent +creature, who feels the hardship of an export trade +in matters of food, must suffer when the principle is +extended to a matter of genius; for, not content with our +mutton from Meath, our salmon from Limerick, and our +chickens from Carlow; but the Saxon must even be +gratified with the soul-stirring eloquence of the Great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +Liberator himself, with only the trouble of going near +St. Stephen’s to hear him. I say near—for among the +other tyrannies of the land, he is compelled to shout loud +enough to be heard in all the adjacent streets. Now this +is too bad. Take our prog—take even our poteen, if you +will; but leave us our Penates; this theft, which embodies +the antithesis of Shakspeare, is not only “trash,” +but “naught enriches them, and makes us poor indeed.”</p> + +<p>Repeal the union, and you remedy this. You’ll have +him at home with you—not masquerading about in the +disguise of a gentleman—not restricted by the habits of +cultivated and civilised life—not tamed down into the +semblance and mockery of good conduct—no longer the +chained-up animal of the menagerie, but the roaring, +rampant lion, roaming at large in his native forest—not +performing antics before some political Van Amburgh—not +opening his huge jaws, as though he would devour the +Whigs, and shutting them again at the command of his +keeper—but howling in all the freedom of his passion, +and lashing his brawny sides with his vigorous “tail.” +Haydn, the composer, had an enormous appetite; to +gratify which, when dining at a tavern, he ordered a +dinner for three. The waiter delayed in serving, as he +said the company hadn’t yet arrived, but Haydn told +him to bring it up at once, remarking, as he patted +complacently his paunch, “I am de compagnie myself.” +Such will you have the case in your domestic parliament—Dan +will be the company himself. No longer fighting +in the ranks of opposition, or among the supporters of a +government—no more the mere character of a piece, he +will then be the Jack Johnson of the political world, +taking the money at the door—in which he has had some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +practice already—he will speak the prologue, lead the +orchestra, prompt the performers, and announce a repetition +of the farce every night of the week for his own benefit. +Only think what he is in England with his “forty thieves” +at his back, and imagine what he will be in Ireland without +one honest man to oppose him. He will indeed then +be well worth seeing, and if Ireland had no other attraction, +foreigners might visit us for a look at the Liberator.</p> + +<p>He is a droll fellow, is Dan, and there is a strong dash +of native humour in his notion of repeal. What strange +scenes, to be sure, it would conjure up. Only think for +a moment of the absentee lord, an exiled peer, coming +back to Dublin after an absence of half his lifetime, vainly +endeavouring to seem pleased with his condition, and +appear happy with his home. Like an insolvent debtor +affecting to joke with the jailer, watch him simulating so +much as he can of habits he has long forgotten, while his +ignorance of his country is such, that he cannot direct +his coachman to a street in the capital. What a ludicrous +view of life would this open to our view! While all +these men, who have been satisfied hitherto to send their +sympathies from Switzerland, and their best wishes for +Ireland by an ambassador’s bag, should now come back to +writhe beneath the scourge of a demagogue, and the +tyranny of a man who wields irresponsible power.</p> + +<p>All Ireland would present the features of a general +election—every one would be fascinating, courteous, +affable, and dishonest. The unpopular debater in England +might have his windows smashed. With us, it would be +his neck would be broken. The excitement of the people +will be felt within the Parliament; and then, fostered by +all the rancour of party hate, will be returned to them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +with interest. The measure discussed out of doors by the +Liberator, will find no one hardy enough to oppose it +within the House, and the opinions of the Corn Exchange +will be the programme for a committee. A notice of a +motion will issue from Merrion-square, and not from a +seat in Parliament; and wherever he moves through the +country, great Daniel, like a snail, will carry “his house” +on his back. “Rob me the Exchequer, Hal!” will be the +cry of the priesthood, and no men are better deserving of +their hire; and thus, wielding every implement of power, +if Ireland be not happy, he can only have himself to +blame for it.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo064.jpg" width="200" height="210" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_NATIONAL_PRIDE" id="A_NUT_FOR_NATIONAL_PRIDE"></a>A NUT FOR NATIONAL PRIDE.</h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">National</span> Pride must be a strong feeling, and one +of the very few sentiments which are not exhausted by +the drain upon them; and it is a strange thing, how +the very fact upon which one man plumes himself, another +would regard as a terrible reproach. A thorough John<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +Bull, as he would call himself, thinks he has summed up, +in those few emphatic words, a brief description of all that +is excellent in humanity. And as he throws out his +chest, and sticks his hand with energy in his breeches +pocket, seems to say, “I am not one of your frog-eating +fellows, half-monkey, half-tiger, but a true Briton.” The +Frenchman, as he proclaims his nation, saying, “<i>Je suis +F-r-r-r-rançais</i>,” would indicate that he is a very +different order of being, from his blunt untutored neighbour, +“<i>outre mer</i>;” and so on to the end of the chapter. +Germans, Italians, and Spaniards, and even Americans, +think there is some magic in the name of their fatherland—some +inherent nobility in the soil: and it was only +lately I read in a French paper an eloquent appeal from a +general to his soldiers, which concluded by his telling them, +to remember, that they were “Mexicans.” I devoutly +trust that they understood the meaning of his phrase, and +were able, without difficulty, to call to mind the bright +prerogative alluded to; for upon my conscience, as an +honest man, it would puzzle me sorely to say what +constitutes a Mexican.</p> + +<p>But the absurdity goes further still: for, not satisfied +with the bounties of Providence in making us what we +are, we must indulge a rancorous disposition towards our +neighbours for their less-favoured destiny. “He behaved +like a Turk,” is an every-day phrase to indicate a full +measure of moral baseness and turpidity. A Frenchman’s +abuse can go no further than calling a man a Chinese, and +when he says, “<i>tu es un Pekin</i>,” a duel is generally the +consequence. I doubt not that the Turks and the Chinese +make use of retributive justice, and treat us no better +than we behave to them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> + +<p>Civilisation would seem rather to have fostered than +opposed this prejudice. In the feudal ages, the strength +of a brawny right arm, the strong hand that could wield a +mace, the firm seat in a saddle, were the qualities most in +request; and were physical strength more estimated than +the gifts of a higher order, the fine distinctions of national +character either did not exist, or were not attended to. +Now, however, the tournament is not held on a cloth of +gold, but on a broad sheet of paper; the arms are not the +lance and the dagger, but the printing-press. No longer +a herald in all the splendour of his tabard proclaims the +lists, but a fashionable publisher, through the medium of +the morning papers, whose cry for largess is to the full as +loud. The result is, nations are better known to each +other, and, by the unhappy law of humanity, are consequently +less esteemed. What signifies the dislike our +ancestors bore the French at Cressy or Agincourt compared +to the feeling we entertain for them after nigh +thirty years of peace? Then, indeed, it was the strong +rivalry between two manly natures: now, the accumulated +hate of ages is sharpened and embittered by a thousand +petty jealousies that have their origin in politics, military +glory, society, or literature; and we detest each other like +quarterly reviewers. The Frenchman visits England as +a Whig commissioner would a Tory institution—only +anxious to discover abuses and defects—with an obliquity +of vision that sees everything distorted, or a fecundity of +imagination that can conjure up the ills he seeks for. He +finds us rude, inhospitable, and illiterate; our habits are +vulgar, our tastes depraved; our House of Commons is a +riotous mob of under-bred debaters; our army an aristocratic +<i>lounge</i>, where merit has no chance against money;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +and our literature—God wot!—a plagiarism from the +French. The Englishman is nearly as complimentary. +The coarseness of French habits is to him a theme of +eternal reprobation; the insolence of the men, the indelicacy +of the women, the immorality of all, overwhelm +him with shame and disgust: the Chamber of Deputies he +despises, as a contemptible parody on a representative +body, and a speech from the tribune a most absurd +substitute for the freedom of unpremeditated eloquence: +the army he discovers to be officered by men, to whom the +new police are accomplished gentlemen; and, in fact, he +sums up by thinking that if we had no other competitors +in the race of civilisation than the French, our supremacy +on land, is to the full as safe, as our sovereignty over the +ocean. Here lie two countries, separated by a slip of sea +not much broader than an American river, who have gone +on for ages repeating these and similar puerilities, without +the most remote prospect of mutual explanation and +mutual good-will.</p> + +<p>“I hate prejudice, I hate the French,” said poor Charles +Matthews, in one of his inimitable representations, and +really the expression was no bad summary of an Englishman’s +faith. On the other hand, to hate and detest the +English is the <i>sine quâ non</i> of French nationality, and to +concede to them any rank in literature, morals, or military +greatness, is to derogate from the claims of his own +country. Now the question is, are the reproaches on +either side absolutely just? They are not. Secondly, if +they be unfair, how comes it that two people pre-eminently +gifted with intelligence and information, should not have +come to a better understanding, and that many a long +year ago? Simply from this plain fact, that the opinions<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +of the press have weighed against those of individuals, and +that the published satires on both sides have had a greater +currency and a greater credit than the calm judgment of +the few. The leading journals in Paris and in London +have pelted each other mercilessly for many a year. One +might forgive this, were the attacks suggested by such +topics as stimulate and strengthen national feeling; but +no, the controversy extends to every thing, and, worse +than all, is carried on with more bitterness of spirit, than +depth of information. The reviewer “par excellence” +of our own country makes a yearly incursion into French +literature, as an Indian would do into his hunting-ground. +Resolved to carry death and carnage on every side, he +arms himself for the chase, and whets his appetite for +slaughter by the last “<i>bonne bouche</i>” of the day. We +then have some half introductory pages of eloquent +exordium on the evil tendency of French literature, and +the contamination of those unsettled opinions in politics, +religion, and morals, so copiously spread through the +pages of every French writer. The revolution of 1797 +is adduced for the hundredth time as the origin of these +evils; and all the crime and bloodshed of that frightful +period is denounced as but the first step of the iniquity +which has reached its pinnacle, in the novels of Paul de +Kock. To believe the reviewer, French literature consists +in the productions of this writer, the works of George +Sand, Balzac, Frédéric Soulié, and a few others of equal +note and mark. According to him, intrigue, seduction, +and adultery, are the staple of French romance: the whole +interest of every novel turning on the undiscovered turpitude +of domestic life; and the great rivalry between +writers, being, to try which can invent a new future of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +depravity and a new fashion of sin. Were this true, it +were indeed a sad picture of national degradation; was it +the fact that such books, and such there are in abundance, +composed the light literature of the day—were to be +found in every drawing-room—to be seen in every hand—to +be read with interest and discussed with eagerness—to +have that wide-spread circulation which must ever +carry with it a strong influence upon the habits of those +who read. Were all this so, I say it would be, indeed, a +deplorable evidence of the low standard of civilisation +among the French. What is the fact, however? Simply +that these books have but a limited circulation, and that, +only among an inferior class of readers. The <i>modiste</i> and +the <i>grisette</i> are, doubtless, well read in the mysteries of +Paul de Kock and Madame du Deffant; but in the cultivated +classes of the capital, such books have no more currency +than the scandalous memoirs of our own country +have in the drawing-rooms of Grosvenor-square or St. +James’s. Balzac has, it is true, a wide-spread reputation; +but many of his books are no less marked by a powerful +interest than a touching appeal to the fine feelings of our +nature. Alfred de Vigny, Eugéne Sue, Victor Hugo, Leon +Gozlan, Paul de Muset, Alexandre Dumas, and a host of +others, are all popular, and, with the exception of a few +works, unexceptionable on every ground of morality; but +these, after all, are but the skirmishers before the army. +What shall we say of Guizot, Thiers, Augustin Thierry, +Toqueville, Mignet, and many more, whose contributions +to history have formed an era in the literature of the age?</p> + +<p>The strictures of the reviewers are not very unlike the +opinions of the French prisoner, who maintained that in +England every one eat with his knife, and the ladies<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +drank gin, which important and veracious facts he himself +ascertained, while residing in that fashionable quarter of +the town called St. Martin’s-lane. This sweeping mode of +argument, <i>à particulari</i>, is fatal when applied to nations. +Even the Americans have suffered in the hands of Mrs. +Trollope and others; and gin twist, bowie knives, tobacco +chewing, and many similarly amiable habits, are not universal. +Once for all, then, be it known, there is no more +fallacious way of forming an opinion regarding France +and Frenchmen, than through the pages of our periodical +press, except by a <i>short</i> residence in Paris—I say short, +for if a little learning be a dangerous thing, a little travelling +is more so; and it requires long experience of the +world, and daily habit of observation, to enable any man +to detect in the ordinary routine of life the finer and more +distinctive traits that have escaped his neighbour; besides, +however palpable and self-evident the proposition, +it demands both tact and time to see that no general standard +of taste can be erected for all nations, and, that to +judge of others by your own prejudices and habits, is +both unfair and absurd. To give an instance. No English +traveller has commented on the French Chamber of +Deputies, without expending much eloquence and a great +deal of honest indignation on the practice of speaking +from a tribune, written orations being in their opinion a +ludicrous travestie on the freedom of debate. Now what +is the fact; in the whole French Chamber there are not +ten, there are not five men who could address the house +extempore; not from any deficiency of ability—not from +any want of information, logical force, and fluency—the +names of Thiers, Guizot, Lamartine, Dupin, Arago, +&c. &c. are quite sufficient to demonstrate this—but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +simply from the intricacy and difficulty of the French language. +A worthy alderman gets up, as the phrase is, and +addresses a speech of some three quarters of an hour to +the collective wisdom of the livery; and although he +may be frequently interrupted by thunders of applause, +he is never checked for any solecisms in his grammar: he +may drive a coach and six through Lindley Murray; he +may inflict heaven knows how many fractures on poor +Priscian’s head, yet to criticise him on so mean a score +as that of mere diction, would not be thought of for a +moment. Not so in France: the language is one of equivoque +and subtlety; the misplacement of a particle, the +change of a gender, the employment of any phrase but +the exact one, might be at any moment fatal to the sense +of the speaker, and would inevitably be so to his success. +It was not very long since, that a worthy deputy interrupted +M. Thiers by alleging the non-sequitur of some +assertion, “<i>Vous n’est pas consequent</i>,” cried the indignant +member, using a phrase not only a vulgarism in itself, +but inapplicable at the time. A roar of laughter followed +his interruption. In all the journals of the next day, he +was styled the deputy <i>consequent</i>; and when he returned +to his constituency the ridicule attached to his blunder +still traced his steps, and finally lost him his election.</p> + +<p>“Thank God I am a Briton,” said Nelson; a phrase, +doubtless, many more of us will re-echo with equal energy; +but while we are expressing our gratitude let our thankfulness +extend to this gratifying fact, that the liberty of +our laws is even surpassed by the licence of our language. +No obscure recess of our tongue is so deep that we cannot +by <i>habeas corpus</i> right bring up a long-forgotten phrase, +and provided the speaker have a meaning and be able to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +convey it to the minds of his hearers, we are seldom disposed +to be critical on the manner, if the matter be there. +Besides this, there are styles of eloquence so imbued with +the spirit of certain eras in French history, that the discussion +of any subject of ancient or modern days, will +always have its own peculiar character of diction. Thus, +there is the rounded period and flowing sententiousness +of Louis XIV., the more polished but less forcible phraseology +of the regency itself, succeeded by the epigrammatic +taste and pointed brevity introduced by Voltaire. +The empire left its impress on the language, and all the +literature of the period wore the <i>esprit soldatesque</i>; and +so on down to the very days of the barricades, each changing +phase of political life had its appropriate expression. +To assume these with effect, was not of course the gift of +every man, and yet to have erred in their adoption, would +have been palpable to all; here then is one important +difference between us, and on this subject alone I might +cite at least twenty more. The excitable Frenchman +scarcely uses any action while speaking, and that, of the +most simple and subdued kind. The phlegmatic Englishman +stamps and gesticulates with all the energy of a madman. +We esteem humour; they prefer wit: we like the +long consecutive chain of proof that leads us step by step +to inevitable conviction; they like better some brief but +happy illustration that, dispensing with the tedium of +argument, presents a question at one glance before them. +They have that general knowledge of their country and +its changes, that an illustration from the past is ever an +effective weapon of the orator; while with us the force +would be entirely lost from the necessity of recounting +the incident to which reference was made.</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_DIPLOMATISTS" id="A_NUT_FOR_DIPLOMATISTS"></a>A NUT FOR DIPLOMATISTS.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Man</span> is the most imitative of all animals: nothing +can surpass the facility he possesses of simulating his +neighbour; and I question much if the press, in all the +plentitude of its power, has done as much for the spread of +good or evil, as the spirit of mimicry so inherent in mankind. +The habits of high life are transmitted through +every grade of society: and the cheesemonger keeps his +hunters, and damns his valet, like my lord; while his +wife rolls in her equipage, and affects the graces of my +lady. So long as wealth is present, the assumption of the +tastes and habitudes of a different class, can merely be +looked upon as one of those outbreaks of vanity in which +rich but vulgar people have a right, if they like, to +indulge. Why shouldn’t they have a villa at Twickenham—why +not a box at the opera—a white bait dinner at +Blackwall—a yacht at Southampton? They have the +money to indulge their caprice, and it is no one’s affair +but their own. They make themselves ridiculous, it is +true; but the pleasure they experience counterbalances +the ridicule, and they are the best judges on which side +lies the profit. Wealth is power: and although the one +may be squandered, and the other abused, yet in their +very profusion, there is something that demands a kind +of reverence from the world; and we have only to look to +France to see, that when once you abolish an hereditary +<i>noblesse</i>, your banker is then your great man.</p> + +<p>We may smile, if we please, at the absurd pretensions<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +of the wealthy alderman and his lady, whose pompous +mansion and splendid equipage affect a princely grandeur; +yet, after all, the knowledge that he is worth half a +million of money, that his name alone can raise the +credit of a new colony, or call into existence the dormant +energy of a new region of the globe, will always prevent +our sarcasm degenerating into contempt. Not so, however, +when poverty unites itself to these aspirings, you +feel in a moment that the poor man has nothing to do +with such vanities; his poverty is a scanty garment, that, +dispose it as he will, he can never make it hang like a +toga; and we have no compassion for him, who, while +hunger gnaws his vitals, affects a sway and dominion his +state has denied him. Such a line of conduct will often +be offensive—it will always be absurd—and the only relief +presented by its display, is in the ludicrous exhibition of +trick and stratagem by which it is supported. Jeremy +Diddler, after all, is an amusing person; but the greater +part of the pleasure he affords us is derived from the fact, +that, cunning as he is in all his efforts to deceive us, we +are still more so, for we have found him out.</p> + +<p>Were I to characterise the leading feature of the age, I +should certainly say it is this pretension. Like the monkeys +at Exeter ’Change, who could never bear to eat out +of their own dish, but must stretch their paws into that +of their neighbour, so every man now-a-days wishes to be in +that place most unsuitable to him by all his tastes, habits, +and associations, and where once having attained to, his +life is one of misery and constraint. The hypocrisy of +simulating manners he is not used to, is not more subversive +of his self-respect, than his imitation is poor, vulgar, +and unmeaning.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> + +<p>Curran said that a corporation was, a “thing that had +neither a body to be kicked, nor a soul to be damned.” +And, verily, I begin to think that masses of men are even +more contemptible than individuals. A nation is a great +household; and if it have not all the <i>prestige</i> of rank, +wealth, and power, it is a poor and miserable thing. +England and France, Germany and Russia, are the great +of the earth; and we look up to them in the political +world, as in society we do to those whose rank and +station are the guarantees of their power. Many other +countries of Europe have also their claims upon us, but +still smaller in degree. Italy, with all its association of +classical elegance—Spain, whose history shines with the +solemn splendour of an illuminated missal, where gold and +purple are seen blending their hues, scarce dimmed by +time; but what shall we say of those newly-created +powers, which springing up like mushroom families, give +themselves all the airs of true nobility, and endeavour by +a strange mockery of institutions and customs of their +greater neighbours, to appear of weight and consequence +before the world. Look, for instance, to Belgium the +<i>bourgeois gentilhomme</i> of politics, which, having retired +from its partnership with Holland, sets up for a gentleman +on its private means. What can be more ludicrous than +its attempts at high-life, its senate, its ministry, its diplomacy; +for strange enough the ridicule of the individual +can be traced extending to a nation, and when your city +lady launched into the world, displays upon her mantelpiece +the visiting cards of her high neighbours, so the first +act of a new people is, to open a visiting acquaintance +with their rich neighbours, and for this purpose the first +thing they do is to establish a corps of diplomacy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now your city knight may have a fat and rosy coachman, +he may have a tall and portly footman, a grave and +a respectable butler; but whatever his wealth, whatever +his pretension, there is one functionary of a great household +he can never attain to—he can never have a groom +of the chambers. This, like the “chasseur” abroad, is the +appendage of but one class, by constant association with +whom its habits are acquired, its tastes engendered, and +it would be equally absurd to see the tall Hungarian in +all the glitter of his hussar costume, behind the caleche of +a pastrycook, as to hear the low-voiced and courteous +minion of Devonshire House announce the uncouth, unsyllabled +names, that come east of St. Dunstan’s.</p> + +<p>So, in the same way, your new nations may get up a +king and a court, a senate, an army, and a ministry, but +let them not meddle with diplomacy—the moment they +do this they burn their fingers: your diplomate is like +your chasseur, and your groom of the chambers; if he be +not well done, he is a miserable failure. The world has +so many types to refer to on this head, there can be no +mistake. Talleyrand, Nesselrode, Metternich, Lord +Whitworth, and several more, have too long given the +tone to this peculiar walk to admit of any error concerning +it; however, your little folk will not be denied the +pleasures of their great acquaintance. They will have +their diplomacy, and they will be laughed at: look at +the Yankees. There is not a country in Europe, there +is not a state however small, there is not a Coburgism +with three thousand inhabitants and three companies of +soldiers, where <i>they</i> haven’t a minister resident with +plenipotentiary powers extending to every relation political +and commercial, although all the while the Yankees<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +would be sorely puzzled to point out on the map the +<i>locale</i> of their illustrious ally, and the Germans no less so +to find out a reason for their embassy. Happily on this +score, the very bone and marrow of diplomacy is consulted, +and secrecy is inviolable; for, as your American +knows no other tongue save that spoken on the Alleghanies, +he keeps his own counsel and theirs also.</p> + +<p>Have you never in the hall of some large country house, +cast your eye, on leave-taking, at the strange and motley +crew of servants awaiting their masters—some well fed +and handsomely clothed, with that look of reflected importance +my lord’s gentleman so justly wears; others, +in graver, but not less respectable raiment, have that quiet +and observant demeanour so characteristic of a well-managed +household. While a third class, strikingly +unlike the other two, wear their livery with an air of +awkwardness and constraint, blushing at themselves even +a deeper colour than the scarlet of their breeches. They +feel themselves in masquerade—they were at the plough +but yesterday, though they are in powder now. With the +innate consciousness of their absurdity, they become fidgetty +and uneasy, and would give the world for “a row” to +conceal the defaults of their breeding. Just so, your +petty “diplomate” suffers agony in all the quiet intercourse +of life. The limited opportunities of small states have +circumscribed his information. He is not a man of the +world, nor is he a political character, for he represents +nothing; nothing, therefore, can save him from oblivion +or contempt, save some political convulsion where any +meddler may become prominent; he has thus a bonus +on disturbance: so long as the company behave discreetly, +he must stay in his corner, but the moment they smash<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +the lamps and shy the decanters, he emerges from his +obscurity and becomes as great as his neighbour. For +my part, I am convinced that the peace and quietness +of Europe as much depends on the exclusion of such +persons from the councils of diplomacy, as the happiness +of every-day life does upon the breeding and good +manners of our associates.</p> + +<p>And what straits, to be sure, are they reduced to, to +maintain this absurd intercourse, screwing the last shilling +from the budget to pay a <i>Chargé d’affaires</i>, with an +embroidered coat, and a decoration in his button-hole.</p> + +<p>The most amusing incidents might be culled from such +histories, if one were but disposed to relate them.</p> + +<p>Balzac mentions, in one of his novels, the story of a +physician who obtained great practice, merely by sending +throughout Paris a gaudily-dressed footman, who rang at +every door, as it were, in search of his master; so quick +were the fellow’s movements, so rapid his transitions, from +one part of the city to the other, nobody believed that a +single individual could ever have sufficed for so many +calls; and thus, the impression was, not only that the +doctor was greatly sought after, but that his household +was on a splendid footing. The Emperor of the Brazils +seems to have read the story, and profited by the hint, for +while other nations are wasting their thousands in maintaining +a whole corps of diplomacy, he would appear like +the doctor to have only one footman, whom he keeps +moving about Europe without ceasing: thus <i>The Globe</i> +tells us one day that the Chevalier de L——, the Brazilian +ambassador, has arrived in London to resume his +diplomatic functions; <i>The Handelsbad of the Hague</i> +mentions his departure from the Dutch Court; <i>The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +Allgemeine Zeitung</i> announces the prospect of his arrival +at Vienna, and <i>The Moniteur Parisien</i> has a beautiful +article on the prosperity of their relations with Mexico, +under the auspices of the indefatigable Chevalier: “<i>non +regio terræ</i>,” exempt from his labours. Unlike Sir Boyle +Roche, he has managed to be not only in two, but +twenty places at once, and I should not be in the least +surprised to hear of his negotiations for sulphur at +Naples, at the same moment that he was pelting snowballs +in Norway. Whether he travels in a balloon or +on the back of a pelican, he is a wonderful man, and a +treasure to his government.</p> + +<p>The multiplicity of his duties, and the pressing nature +of his functions, may impart an appearance of haste to +his manner, but it looks diplomatic to be peremptory, and +he has no time for trifling.</p> + +<p>Truly, Chevalier de L——, thou art a great man—the +wandering Jew was but a type of thee.</p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illo080.jpg" width="400" height="427" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2>A NUT FOR FOREIGN TRAVEL.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Of</span> all the popular delusions that we labour under in +England, I scarcely know of one more widely circulated, +and less founded in fact, than the advantages of foreign +travel. Far be it from me to undervalue the benefits +men of education receive by intercourse with strangers,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +and the opportunities of correcting by personal observation +the impressions already received by study. No one +sets a higher price on this than I do; no one estimates +more fully the advantages of tempering one’s nationality +by the candid comparison of our own institutions with +those of other countries; no one values more highly the +unbiassed frame of mind produced by extending the field +of our observation, and, instead of limiting our experience +by the details of a book, reading from the wide-spread +page of human nature itself. So conscious, indeed, am I +of the importance of this, that I look upon his education +as but very partial indeed who has not travelled. It is +not, therefore, against the benefits of seeing the world I +would inveigh—it is rather against the general application +of the practice to the whole class of our countrymen and +countrywomen who swarm on the continent. Unsuited +by their tastes—unprepared by previous information—deeming +a passport and a letter of credit all-sufficient for +their purpose—they set out upon their travels. From +their ignorance of a foreign language, their journey is one +of difficulty and embarrassment at every step. They +understand little of what they see, nothing of what they +hear. The discomforts of foreign life have no palliation, +by their being enabled to reason on, and draw inferences +from them. All the sources of information are hermetically +sealed against them, and their tour has nothing +to compensate for its fatigue, and expense, save the +absurd detail of adventure to which their ignorance has +exposed them.</p> + +<p>It is not my intention to rail in this place against the +injury done to the moral feeling of our nation, by intimate +association with the habits of the Continent. Reserving<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +this for a more fitting time, I shall merely remark at +present, that, so far as the habits of virtue are concerned, +more mischief is done among the middle class of our +countrymen, than those of a more exalted sphere.</p> + +<p>Scarcely does the month of May commence, when the +whole tide of British population sets in upon the coast of +France and Flanders. To watch the crowded steamers as +they arrive in Antwerp, or Boulogne, you would say that +some great and devastating plague had broken out in London, +and driven the affrighted inhabitants from their +homes. Not so, however: they have come abroad for +pleasure. With a credit on Coutts, and the inestimable +John Murray for a guide, they have devoted six weeks to +France, Belgium, and the Rhine, in which ample time +they are not only to learn two languages, but visit three +nations, exploring into cookery, customs, scenery, literature, +and the arts, with the same certainty of success that +they would pay a visit to Astley’s. Scarcely are they +launched upon their travels when they unite into parties +for personal protection and assistance. The “<i>morgue +Britannique</i>,” so much spoken of by foreigners, they +appear to have left behind them; and sudden friendships, +and intimacies, spring up between persons whose only +feeling in common is that of their own absurd position. +Away they go sight-seeking in clusters. They visit +cathedrals, monuments, and galleries; they record in their +journals the vulgar tirades of a hired <i>commissionaire</i>; +they eat food they detest, and they lie down to sleep discontented +and unhappy. The courteous civility of +foreigners, the theme of so much eulogy in England, +they now find out to be little more than selfishness, libertinism, +and impertinence. They see the country from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +the window of a diligence, and society from a place at the +<i>table d’hôte</i>, and truly both one and the other are but the +vulgar high roads of life. Their ignorance of the language +alone protects them from feeling insulted at the impertinences +directed at themselves and their country; and +the untutored simplicity of their nature saves them the +mortification of knowing that the ostentatious politeness +of some moustached acquaintance is an exhibition got +up by him for the entertainment of his friends.</p> + +<p>Poor John Bull, you have made great sacrifices for this +tour. You have cut the city, and the counting-house, that +your wife may become enamoured of dress, and your +daughter of a dancing-master—that your son may learn to +play roulette and smoke cigars, and that you yourself +may ramble some thousand miles over paved roads, without +an object to amuse, without an incident to attract +you. While this is a gloomy picture enough, there is +another side to the medal still worse. John Bull goes +home generally sick of what he has seen, and much more +ignorant of the Continent than when he set out. His +tour, however, has laid in its stock of foreign affectation, +that renders his home uncomfortable; his daughters pine +after the flattering familiarities of their whiskered acquaintances +at Ems, or Wiesbaden; and his sons lose all +zest for the slow pursuit of competence, by reflecting on +the more decisive changes of fortune, that await on <i>rouge +et noir</i>. Yet even this is not the worst. What I deplore +most of all, is the false and erroneous notions continental +nations procure of our country, and its habits, +from such specimens as these. The Englishman who, +seen at home, at the head of his counting-house, or in the +management of his farm, presents a fine example of those<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +national traits we are so justly proud of—honest, frank, +straightforward in all his dealings, kind and charitable in +his affections; yet see him abroad, the sphere of his occupations +exists no longer—there is no exercise for the manly +habits of his nature: his honesty but exposes him to be +duped; his frankness degenerates into credulity; the +unsuspecting openness of his character makes him the +butt of every artful knave he meets with; and he is +laughed at from Rotterdam to Rome for qualities which, +exercised in their fitting sphere, have made England the +greatest country of the universe. Hence we have the +tone of disparagement now so universally maintained +about England, and Englishmen, from one end of the +Continent to the other. It is not that our country does +not send forth a number of men well qualified to induce +different impressions of their nation; but unfortunately, +such persons move only in that rank of foreign society +where these prejudices do not exist; and it is among a +different class, and unhappily a more numerous one also, +that these undervaluing opinions find currency and belief.</p> + +<p>There is nothing more offensive than the continual +appeal made by Frenchmen, Germans, and others, to +English habits, as seen among this class of our countrymen. +It is in vain that you explain to them that these +people are neither among the more educated nor the better +ranks of our country. They cannot comprehend your +distinction. The habits of the Continent have produced +a kind of table-land of good-breeding, upon which all +men are equals. Thus, if you rarely meet a foreigner +ignorant of the every-day <i>convenances</i> of the world, you +still more rarely meet with one unexceptionably well-bred. +The <i>table d’hôte</i>, like the mess in our army, has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +the effect of introducing a certain amount of decorum +that is felt through every relation of life; and, although +the count abroad is immeasurably beneath the gentleman +at home, here, I must confess, that the foreign cobbler is +a more civilized person than his type in England. This +is easily understood: foreign breeding is not the outward +exhibition of an inward principle—it is not the manifestation +of a sense of mingled kindness, good taste, and self-respect—it +is merely the rigid observance of a certain +code of behaviour that has no reference whatever to any +thing felt within; it is the mere popery of politeness, +with its saint-worship, its penances, and its privations. +An Englishman makes way for you to accommodate your +passage; a foreigner—a Frenchman I should say—does +so for an opportunity to flourish his hat or to exhibit an +attitude. The same spirit pervades every act of both; +duty in one case, display in the other, are the ruling principles +of life; and, where persons are so diametrically +different, there is little likelihood of much mutual understanding +or mutual esteem. To come back, however, the +great evil of this universal passion for travelling lies in +the opportunity afforded to foreigners, of sneering at our +country, and ridiculing our habits. It is in vain that our +institutions are models of imitation for the world—in vain +that our national character stands pre-eminent for good-faith +and fidelity—in vain the boast that the sun never +sets upon a territory that girths the very globe itself, so +long as we send annually our tens of thousands out upon +the Continent, with no other failing than mere unfitness +for foreign travel, to bring down upon us the sneer, and +the ridicule, of every ignorant and unlettered Frenchman, +or Belgian, they meet with.</p> + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illo086.jpg" width="400" height="431" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2>A NUT FOR DOMESTIC HAPPINESS.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Our</span> law code would, were its injunctions only carried +out in private life, effect most extraordinary reformations +in our customs and habits. The most singular innovations +in our tastes and opinions would spring out of the +statutes. It was only a few days ago where a man sought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +reparation for the greatest injury one could inflict on +another, the great argument of the defendant’s counsel +was based on the circumstance that the plaintiff and his +wife had not been proved to have lived happily together, +except on the testimony of their servants. Great stress +was laid upon this fact by the advocate; and such an +impression did it make on the minds of the jury, that the +damages awarded were a mere trifle. Now, only reflect +for a moment on the absurdity of such a plea, and think +how many persons there are whose quiet and unobtrusive +lives are unnoticed beyond the precincts of their own +door—nay, how many estimable and excellent people +who live less for the world than for themselves, and +although, probably for this very reason, but little exposed +to the casualty in question, would yet deem the injustice +great that placed them beyond the pale of reparation +because they had been homely and domestic.</p> + +<p>Civilisation and the march of mind are fine things, and +doubtless it is a great improvement that the criminal is +better lodged, and fed, in the prison, than the hungry +labourer in the workhouse. It is an admirable code that +makes the debt of honour, the perhaps swindled losses of +the card-table, an imperative obligation, while the money +due to toiling, working industry, may be evaded or escaped +from. Still, it is a bold step to invade the privacy of +domestic life, to subvert the happiness we deem most +national, and to suggest that the world has no respect for, +nor the law no belief in, that peaceful course in life, +which, content with its own blessings, seeks neither the +gaze of the crowd, nor the stare of fashion. Under the +present system, a man must appear in society like a candidate +on the hustings—profuse in protestations of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +happiness and redolent of smiles; he must lead forth his +wife like a blooming <i>debutante</i>, and, while he presents +her to his friends, must display, by every endeavour in +his power, the angelic happiness of their state. The <i>coram +publico</i> endearments, so much sneered at by certain fastidious +people, are now imperative; and, however secluded +your habits, however retiring your tastes, it is absolutely +necessary you should appear a certain number of times +every year before the world, to assure that kind-hearted +and considerate thing, how much conjugal felicity you are +possessed of.</p> + +<p>It is to no purpose that your man-servant and your +maid-servant, and even the stranger within your gates, +have seen you in the apparent enjoyment of domestic +happiness: it is the crowd of a ball-room must testify in +your favour—it is the pit of a theatre—it is the company +of a steam-boat, or the party on a railroad, you must +adduce in evidence. They are the best—they are the +only judges of what you, in the ignorance of your heart, +have believed a secret for your own bosom.</p> + +<p>Your conduct within-doors is of little moment, so that +your bearing without satisfy the world. What a delightful +picture of universal happiness will England then present +to the foreigner who visits our salons! With what +ecstasy will he contemplate the angelic felicity of conjugal +life! Instead of the indignant coldness of a husband, +offended by some casual levity of his wife, he will +now redouble his attentions, and take an opportunity of +calling the company to witness that they live together +like turtle-doves. He knows not how soon, if he mix +much in fashionable life, their testimony may avail him; +and the loving smile he throws his spouse across the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +supper-table is worth three thousand pounds before any +jury in Middlesex.</p> + +<p>Romance writers will now lose one stronghold of sentiment. +Love in a cottage will possess as little respect +as it ever did attraction for the world. The pier at +Brighton, a Gravesend steamer, Hyde Park on a Sunday, +will be the appropriate spheres for the interchange of conjugal +vows. No absurd notions of solitude will then hold +sway. Alas! how little prophetic spirit is there in +poetry! But a few years ago, and one of our sirens of +song said,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“When should lovers breathe their vows?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When should ladies hear them?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the dew is on the boughs—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When none else is near them.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em">Not a word of it! The appropriate place is amid the +glitter of jewels, the glare of lamps, the crush of fashion, +and the din of conversation. The private boxes of the +opera are even too secluded, and your happiness is no more +genuine, until recognised by society, than is an exchequer +bill with the mere signature of Lord Monteagle.</p> + +<p>The benefits of this system will be great. No longer +will men be reduced to the cultivation of those meeker +virtues that grace and adorn life; no more will they +study those accomplishments that make home happy and +their hearth cheerful. A winter at Paris and a box at +the Varietés will be more to the purpose. Scribe’s farces +will teach them more important lessons, and they will +obtain an instructive example in the last line of a vaudeville, +where an injured husband presents himself at the fall of +the curtain, and, as he bows to the audience, embraces<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +both his wife and her lover, exclaiming, “<i>Maintenant je +suis heureux—ma femme—mon meilleur ami!</i>” He then +may snap his fingers at Charles Phillips and Adolphus: +he has not only proved his affection to his wife, but his +confidence in his friend. Let him lay the damages at ten +thousand, and, with a counsel that can cry, he’ll get every +shilling of the money.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illo090.jpg" width="400" height="425" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_LADIES_BOUNTIFUL" id="A_NUT_FOR_LADIES_BOUNTIFUL"></a>A NUT FOR LADIES BOUNTIFUL.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Jean Jacques</span> tells us, that when his wife died every +farmer in the neighbourhood offered to console him by +one of their daughters; but that a few weeks afterwards +his cow having shared the same fate, no one ever thought +of replacing his loss by the offer of another; thereby +proving the different value people set upon their cows and +children—this seems absurd enough, but is it a bit more +so, than what is every day taking place in professional +life? How many parsons are there who would not lend +you five pounds, would willingly lend you their pulpit, +and the commonest courtesy from a hospital surgeon is, +to present his visitor with a knife and entreat him to +carve a patient. He has never seen the individual before, +he doesn’t know whether he be short-sighted, or nervous, +or ignorant, or rash, all he thinks of, is doing the honours of +the institution; and although like a hostess, who sees the +best dish at her table mangled by an unskilful carver, he +suffers in secret, yet is she far too well-bred to evince her +displeasure, but blandly smiles at her friend, and says +“No matter, pray go on.” This, doubtless, is highly conducive +to science; and as medicine is declared to be a +science of experiment, great results occasionally arise from +the practice. Now that I am talking of doctors—what a +strange set they are, and what a singular position do they +hold in society; admitted to the fullest confidence of the +world, yet by a strange perversion, while they are the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +depositaries of secrets that hold together the whole fabric +of society, their influence is neither fully recognised, nor +their power acknowledged. The doctor is now what the +monk once was, with this additional advantage, that from +the nature of his studies and the research of his art, he +reads more deeply in the human heart, and penetrates +into its most inmost recesses. For him, life has little romance; +the grosser agency of the body re-acting ever on +the operations of the mind, destroy many a poetic daydream +and many a high-wrought illusion. To him alone +does a man speak “<i>son dernier mot</i>:” while to the lawyer +the leanings of self-respect will make him always impart +a favourable view of his case. To the physician he will +be candid, and even more than candid—yes, these are the +men who, watching the secret workings of human passion, +can trace the progress of mankind in virtue and in vice; +while ministering to the body they are exploring the +mind, and yet, scarcely is the hour of danger passed, +scarcely the shadow of fear dissipated, when they fall +back to their humble position in life, bearing with them +but little gratitude, and, strange to say, no fear!</p> + +<p>The world expects them to be learned, well-bred, kind, +considerate, and attentive, patient to their querulousness, +and enduring under their caprice; and, after all this, the +humbug of homœopathy, the preposterous absurdity of the +water cure, or the more reprehensible mischief of Mesmerism, +will find more favour in their sight than the highest +order of ability accompanied by great natural advantages.</p> + +<p>Every man—and still more, every woman—imagine +themselves to be doctors. The taste for physic, like that +for politics, is born with us, and nothing seems easier +than to repair the injuries of the constitution, whether of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +the state or the individual. Who has not seen, over and +over again, physicians of the first eminence put aside, that +the nostrum of some ignorant pretender, or the suggestion +of some twaddling old woman, should be, as it is termed, +tried? No one is too stupid, no one too old, no one too +ignorant, too obstinate, or too silly, not to be superior to +Brodie and Chambers, Crampton and Marsh; and where +science, with anxious eye and cautious hand, would +scarcely venture to interfere, heroic ignorance would dash +boldly forward and cut the Gordian difficulty by snapping +the thread of life. How comes it that these old ladies, of +either sex, never meddle with the law? Is the game beneath +them, where the stake is only property, and not +life? or is there less difficulty in the knowledge of an art +whose principles rest on so many branches of science, +than in a study founded on the basis of precedent? +Would to heaven the “Ladies Bountiful” would take to +the quarter-sessions and the assizes, in lieu of the infirmaries +and dispensaries, and make Blackstone their aid-de-camp—<i>vice</i> +Buchan retired.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo093.jpg" width="200" height="214" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_THE_PRIESTS" id="A_NUT_FOR_THE_PRIESTS"></a>A NUT FOR THE PRIESTS.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo094.jpg" width="200" height="217" alt="T" title="T" /> +</div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em; padding-top: 0.5em"><span class="smcap">here</span> would be no going through +this world if one had not an +India-rubber conscience, and +one could no more exist in +life without what watch-makers +call accommodation, in the +machinery of one’s heart, than +a blue-bottle fly could grow +fat in the shop of an apothecary. +Every man’s conscience has, like Janus, two faces—one +looks most plausibly to the world, with a smile of +courteous benevolence, the other with a droll leer seems +to say, I think we are doing them. In fact, not only +would the world be impossible, and its business impracticable, +but society itself would be a bear-garden without +hypocrisy.</p> + +<p>Now, the professional classes have a kind of licence on +this subject; just as a poet is permitted to invent sunsets, +and a painter to improvise clouds and cataracts, so a +lawyer dilates upon the virtues or attractions of his client, +and a physician will weep you good round substantial +tears, at a guinea a drop, for the woes of his patient; but +the church, I certainly thought, was exempt from this +practice. A paragraph in a morning paper, however, disabused +my ignorance in the most remarkable manner. +The Roman Catholic hierarchy have unanimously decided +that all persons following the profession of the stage, are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +to be considered without the pale of the church, they are +neither to be baptized nor confirmed, married nor buried; +they may get a name in the streets, and a wife there also, +but the church will neither bless the one, nor confirm the +other; in fact, the sock and the buskin are proclaimed in +opposition to Christianity, and Madame Lafarge is not a +bit more culpable than Robert Macaire. A few days +since, one of the most fashionable churches in Paris was +crowded to suffocation by the attraction of high mass, +celebrated with the assistance of the whole opera choir, +with Duprez at their head. The sum contributed by the +faithful was enormous, and the music of Mozart was heard +to great effect through the vaulted aisles of Notre Dame, +yet the very morning after, not an individual of the choir +could receive the benediction of the church—the <i>rationale</i> +of all which is, that the Dean of Notre Dame, like the +Director of the Odeon, likes a good house and a heavy +benefit. He gets the most attractive company he can +secure, and although he makes no scruple to say they are +the most disreputable acquaintances, still they fill the +benches, and it will be time enough to damn them when +the performance is over!</p> + +<p>Whenever the respectable Whigs are attacked for their +alliance with O’Connell, they make the same reply the +priest would probably do in this circumstance—How can +we help it? We want a mob; if he sings, we have it—we +know his character as well as you; so only let us fill +our pockets, and then —— I do not blame them in the +least, if the popery of their politics has palled upon the +appetite; if they can work no more miracles of reform +and revolution, I do not see how they can help calling in +aid from without.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> + +<p>Dan, however, will not consent, like Duprez, to be damned +when he is done with; he insists on a share of the profits, +and, moreover, to be treated with some respect too. He +knows he is the star of the company, and can make his +own terms; and, even now, when the house is broken up, +and the manager beggared, and the actors dismissed, like +Matthews, he can get up a representation all to himself, +and make a handsome thing of it besides.</p> + +<p>If one could see it brought about something in the +fashion of Sancho’s government of Barrataria, I should +certainly like to see O’Connell on the throne of Ireland +for about twenty-four hours, and to salute King Dan, <i>par +la grace de diable</i>, king of Erin, just for the joke’s sake!</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_LEARNED_SOCIETIES" id="A_NUT_FOR_LEARNED_SOCIETIES"></a>A NUT FOR LEARNED SOCIETIES.</h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo096.jpg" width="200" height="222" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<p style="text-indent: 0em"><span class="smcap">We</span> laugh at the middle ages +for their trials by ordeal, +their jousts, their tournaments, +their fat monasteries, and their +meagre people; but I am +strongly disposed to think, +that before a century pass +over, posterity will give us as +broad a grin for our learned +societies. Of all the features +that characterise the age, I know of none so pre-eminently +ridiculous, as nine-tenths of these associations would +prove; supported by great names, aided by large sums,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +with a fine house, a library and a librarian, they do the +honours of science pretty much as the yeomen of the guard +do those of a court on a levee day, and they bear +about the same relation to literature and art, that do +the excellent functionaries I have mentioned, to the proceedings +around the throne.</p> + +<p>An old gentleman, hipped by celibacy, and too sour +for society, has contracted a habit of looking out of his +window every morning, to observe the weather: he sees +a cloud very like a whale, or he fancies that when the +wind blows in a particular direction, and it happens to +rain at the same time, that the drops fall in a peculiarly +slanting manner. He notes down the facts for a month +or two, and then establishes a meteorological society, of +which he is the perpetual president, with a grant from +Parliament to extend its utility. Another takes to old +volumes on a book-stall; and becoming, as most men are +who have little knowledge of life, fascinated with his +own discoveries, thinks he has ascertained some curious +details of ancient history, and communicating his results +to others as stupid and old as himself, they dub themselves +antiquarians, or archæologists, and obtain a grant also.</p> + +<p>Now, one half of these societies are neither more nor +less than most impertinent sarcasms on the land we live +in. The man who sets himself down deliberately to +chronicle the clouds in our atmosphere, and jot down the +rainy days in our calendar, is, to my thinking, performing +about as grateful a task, as though he were to count the +carbuncles on his friend’s nose. We have, it is true, a +most abominable climate: the sun rarely shows himself, +and, when he does, it is through a tattered garment of +clouds, dim and disagreeable; but why throw it in our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +teeth? and, still more, why pay a body of men to publish +the slander? Then again, as to history, all the world +knows that since the Flood the Irish have never done any +thing else than make love, illicit whiskey, and beat each +other. What nonsense, then, to talk about the ancient +cultivation of the land, of its high rank in literature, and +its excellence in art. A stone bishop, with a nose like a +negro, and a crosier like a garden-rake, are the only +evidences of our ancestors’ taste in sculpture; and some +doggrel verses in Irish, explaining how King Phelim +O’Toole cheated a brother monarch out of his small-clothes, +are about the extent of our historic treasures. +But, for argument’s sake, suppose it otherwise; imagine +for a moment that our ancestors were all that Sir William +Betham and Mr. Petrie would make them—I do not know +how other people may feel, but I myself deem it no +pleasant reflection to think of <i>their</i> times and look at <i>our +own</i>. What! we were poets and painters, architects, +historians, and musicians! What have we now among +us to represent these great and mighty gifts? I am +afraid, except our Big Beggarman, we have not a single +living celebrity; and is this a comfortable reflection, is +this a pleasing thought, that while, fourteen hundred +years ago, some Irish Raphael and some Galway Grisi +were the delight of our illustrious ancestors—that while +the splendour of King Malachi, with his collar of gold, +astonished the ladies in the neighbourhood of Trim—we +have nothing to boast of, save Dan for Lord Mayor, and +Burton Bindon’s oysters? Once more, I say, if what +these people tell us be facts, they are the most unpalatable +facts could be told to a nation; and I see no manner of +propriety or good-breeding in replying to a gipsy who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +begs for a penny, by the information, that “his ancestors +built the Pyramids.”</p> + +<p>Again, if our days are dark, our nights are worse; and +what, in Heaven’s name, have we to do with an observatory +and a telescope as long as the <i>Great Western</i>? +The planets are the most expensive vagabonds to the +Budget, and the fixed stars are a fixed imposition. Were +I Chancellor of the Exchequer, I’d pension the Moon, +and give the Great Bear a sum of money as compensation. +Do not tell me of the distresses of the people, arising from +cotton, or corn, China, or Chartists—it is our scientific +institutions are eating into the national resources. There +is not an egg-saucepan of antiquity that does not cost the +country a plum, and every wag of a comet’s tail may be +set down at half-a-million. I warrant me the people in +the Moon take us a deuced deal more easily, and give +themselves very little trouble to make out the size of +Ireland’s eye or the height of Croaghpatrick. No, no; +let the Chancellor of the Exchequer come down with a +slapping measure of retrenchment, and make a clear stage +of all of them. Every man with money to buy a cotton +umbrella is his own meteorologist; and a pocket telescope, +price eight-and-fourpence, is long enough, in all conscience, +for any man in a climate like ours; or, if such a +course seem too peremptory, call on these people for +their bill, and let there be a stated sum for each item. +At Dolly’s chop-house, you know to the exact farthing +how much your beefsteak and glass of ale will cost you; +and if you wish, in addition, a slice of Stilton with +your XX, you consult your pocket before you speak. Let +not the nation be treated worse than the individual: let +us first look about us, and see if a year of prosperity and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +cheap potatoes will permit us the indulgence of obtaining +a new luminary or an old chronicle; then, when we know +the cost, we may calculate with safety. Suppose a fixed +star, for instance, be set down at ten pounds; a planet +at five; Saturn has so many belts, I would not give more +than half-a-crown for a new one; and, as for an eclipse +of the sun, I had rather propose a reward for the man +who could tell us when we could see him palpably.</p> + +<p>For the present I merely throw out these suggestions in +a brief, incomplete manner, intending, however, to return +to the subject on another occasion.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo100.jpg" width="200" height="178" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_THE_LAWYERS" id="A_NUT_FOR_THE_LAWYERS"></a>A NUT FOR THE LAWYERS.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo101.jpg" width="200" height="219" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p style="text-indent: 0em; padding-top: 0.5em"><span class="smcap">uthors</span> have long got the credit +of being the most accomplished +persons going—thoroughly conversant +not only with the features +of every walk and class +in life, but also with their +intimate sentiments, habits of +thought, and modes of expression. +Now, I have long been +of opinion, that in all these +respects, lawyers are infinitely their superiors. The +author chooses his characters as you choose your dish, or +your wine at dinner—he takes what suits, and leaves +what is not available to his purpose. He then fashions +them to his hand—finishing off this portrait, sketching +that one—now bringing certain figures into strong light, +anon throwing them into shadow: they are his creatures, +who must obey him while living, and even die at his +command. Now, the lawyer is called on for all the narrative +and descriptive powers of his art, at a moment’s +notice, without time for reading or preparation; and worse +than all, his business frequently lies among the very +arts and callings his taste is most repugnant to. One day +he is to be found creeping, with a tortoise slowness +through all the wearisome intricacy of an equity case—the +next he is borne along in a torrent of indignant eloquence, +in defence of some Orange processionist or some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +Ribbon associate: now he describes, with the gravity of +a landscape gardener, the tortuous windings of a mill-stream; +now expatiating in Lytton Bulwerisms over the +desolate hearth and broken fortunes of some deserted +husband. In one court he attempts to prove that the +elderly gentleman whose life was insured for a thousand +at the Phœnix, was instrumental to his own decease, for +not eating Cayenne with his oysters; in another, he shows, +with palpable clearness, that being stabbed in the body, +and having the head fractured, is a venial offence, and +merely the result of “political excitement” in a high-spirited +and warm-hearted people.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo103a.jpg" width="200" height="183" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p>These are all clever efforts, and demand consummate +powers, at the hand of him who makes them; but what +are they to that deep and critical research with which he +seems, instinctively, to sound the depths of every scientific +walk in life, and every learned profession. Hear him in +a lunacy case—listen to the deep and subtle distinctions +he draws between the symptoms of mere eccentricity and +erring intellect—remark how insignificant the physician +appears in the case, who has made these things the study +of a life long—hear how the barrister confounds him with +a hail-storm of technicals—talking of the pineal gland as +if it was an officer of the court, and of atrophy of the +cerebral lobes, as if he was speaking of an attorney’s +clerk. Listen to him in a trial of supposed death by +poison; what a triumph he has there, particularly if he +be a junior barrister—how he walks undismayed among +all the tests for arsenic—how little he cares for Marsh’s +apparatus and Scheele’s discoveries—hydro-sulphates, +peroxydes, iodurates, and proto-chlorides are familiar to +him as household words. You would swear that he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +nursed at a glass retort, and sipped his first milk +through a blow-pipe. Like a child who thumps the +keys of a pianoforte, and imagines himself a Liszt or +Moschelles, so does your +barrister revel amid the +phraseology of a difficult +science—pelting the witnesses +with his insane +blunders, and assuring the +jury that their astonishment +means ignorance. Nothing +in anatomy is too deep—nothing +in chemistry too +subtle—no fact in botany too obscure—no point in metaphysics +too difficult. Like Dogberry, these things are to him +but the gift of God; and he knows them at his birth. Truly, +the chancellor is a powerful magician; and the mystic +words by which he calls a gentleman to the bar, must +have some potent spell within them. The youth you +remember as if it were yesterday, the lounger at evening +parties, or the chaperon of +riding damsels to the Phœnix, +comes forth now a man of +deep and consummate acquirement—he +whose chemistry +went no further than the +composition of a “tumbler +of punch,” can now perform +the most difficult experiments +of Orfila or Davy, or explain +the causes of failure in a test +that has puzzled the scientific world for half a century. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +knows the precise monetary value of a deserted maiden’s +affections—he can tell you the exact sum, in bank notes, +that a widow will be knocked down for, when her heart has +been subject to but a feint +attack of Cupid. With what +consummate skill, too, he can +show that an indictment is +invalid, when stabbing is inserted +for cutting; and when +the crown prosecutor has been +deficient in his descriptive +anatomy, what a glorious field +for display is opened to him. +Then, to be sure, what +droll fellows they are!—how they do quiz the witness as +he sits trembling on the table—what funny allusions to +his habits of life—his age—his station—turning the whole +battery of their powers of ridicule against him—ready, if +he venture to retort, to throw themselves on the protection +of the court. And truly, if a little Latin suffice for +a priest, a little wit goes very far in a law court. A joke +is a universal blessing: the judge, who, after all, is only +“an old lawyer,” loves it from habit: the jury, generally +speaking, are seldom in such good company, and they +laugh from complaisance; and the bar joins in the mirth, +on that great reciprocity principle, which enables them +to bear each other’s dulness, and dine together afterwards. +People are insane enough to talk of absenteeism as one +of the evils of Ireland, and regret that we have no +resident aristocracy among us—rather let us rejoice that +we have them not, so long as the lawyers prove their +legitimate successors.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo103b.jpg" width="200" height="215" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>How delightful in a land where civilization has still +some little progress before it, and where the state of +crime is not quite satisfactory—to know that we have +those amongst us who know all things, feel all things, +explain all things, and reconcile all things—who can +throw such a Claude Lorraine light over right and wrong, +that they are both mellowed into a sweet and hallowed +softness, delightful to gaze on. How the secret of this +universal acquirement is accomplished I know not—perhaps +it is the wig.</p> + +<p>What set me first on this train of thought, was a trial +I lately read, where a cross action was sustained for +damage at sea—the owners of the brig Durham against +the Aurora, a foreign vessel, and <i>vice versâ</i>, for the result +of a collision at noon, on the 14th of October. It +appeared that both vessels had taken shelter in the +Humber from stress of weather, nearly at the same time—that +the Durham, which preceded the Prussian vessel, +“clewed up her top-sails, and dropped her anchor <i>rather</i> +suddenly; and the Aurora being in the rear, the vessels +came in collision.” The question, therefore, was, whether +the Durham came to anchor too precipitately, and in +an unseamanlike manner; or, in other words, whether, +when the “Durham clewed up top-sails and let go her +anchor, the Aurora should not have luffed up, or got +sternway on her,” &c. Nothing could possibly be more +instructive, nor anything scarcely more amusing, than +the lucid arguments employed by the counsel on both +sides. The learned Thebans, that would have been sick +in a ferry-boat, spoke as if they had circumnavigated the +globe. Stay-sails, braces, top-gallants, clews, and capstans +they hurled at each other like <i>bon bons</i> at a carnival;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +and this naval engagement lasted from daylight to dark. +Once only, when the judge “made it noon,” for a little +refection, did they cease conflict, to renew the strife +afterwards with more deadly daring, till at last so confused +were the witnesses—the plaintiff, defendant, and +all, that they half wished, they had gone to the bottom, +before they thought of settling the differences in the +Admiralty Court. This was no common occasion for +the display of these powers so peculiarly the instinctive +gift of the bar, and certainly they used it with all the +enthusiasm of a <i>bonne bouche</i>.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo104.jpg" width="200" height="220" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>How I trembled for the Aurora, when an elderly gentleman,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +with a wart on his nose, assured the court that +the Durham had her top-sail backed ten minutes before +the anchor fell; and then, how I feared again for the +Durham, as a thin man in spectacles worked the Prussian +about in a double-reefed mainsail, and stood round in +stays so beautifully. I thought myself at sea, so graphic +was the whole description—the waves splashed and +foamed around the bulwarks, and broke in spray upon +the deck—the wind rattled amid the rigging—the bulkheads +creaked, and the good ship heaved heavily in the +trough of the sea, like a mighty monster in his agony. +But my heart quailed not—I knew that Dr. Lushington +was at the helm, and Dr. Haggard had the look-out +a-head—I felt that Dr. Robinson stood by the lee braces, +and Dr. Addison waited, hatchet in hand, to cut away the +mainmast. These were comforting reflections, till I was +once more enabled to believe myself in her Majesty’s +High Court of Admiralty.</p> + +<p>Alas! ye Coopers—ye Marryats—ye Chamiers—ye +historians of storm and sea-fight, how inferior are your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +triumphs compared with the descriptive eloquence of a +law court. Who can pourtray the broken heart of +blighted affection, like Charles Phillips in a breach of +promise? What was Scott compared to Scarlett?—how +inferior is Dickens to Counsellor O’Driscoll?—here +are the men, who, without the trickery of trade, ungilt, +unlettered, and unillustrated, can move the world to +laughter and to tears. They ask no aid from Colburn, +nor from Cruikshank—they need not “Brown” nor Longman. +Heaven-born warriors, doctors, chemists, and +anatomists—deep in every art, learned in every science—mankind +is to them an open book, which they read at +will, and con over at leisure—happy country, where we +have you in abundance, and where your talents are so +available, that they can be had for asking.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo107.jpg" width="200" height="213" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_THE_IRISH" id="A_NUT_FOR_THE_IRISH"></a>A NUT FOR THE IRISH.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></h2> + +<h3>AN IRISH ENCORE.</h3> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo108.jpg" width="200" height="214" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em"><span class="smcap">We</span> certainly are a very +original people, and contrive +to do everything after a way +of our own! Not content +with cementing our friendships +by fighting, and making +the death of a relative the +occasion of a merry evening, +we even convert the habits +we borrow from other lands +into something essentially different from their original +intention, and infuse into them a spirit quite national.</p> + +<p>The echo which, when asked “How d’ye do, Paddy +Blake?” replied, “Mighty well, thank you,” could only +have been an Irish echo. Any other country would have +sulkily responded, “Blake—ake—ake—ake,” in <i>diminuendo</i> +to the end of the chapter. But there is a courtesy, +an attention, a native politeness on our side of the channel, +it is in vain to seek elsewhere. A very strong +instance in point occurs in a morning paper before me, +and one so delightfully characteristic of our habits and +customs, it would be unpardonable to pass it without +commemoration. At an evening concert at the Rotundo, +we are informed that Mr. Knight—I believe his name is—enchanted +his audience by the charming manner he sung +“Molly Astore.” Three distinct rounds of applause +followed, and an encore that actually shook the +building, and may—though we are not informed of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +circumstance—have produced very remarkable effects in +the adjacent institution; upon which Mr. Knight, with his +habitual courtesy, came forward and sang—what, think +ye, good reader? Of course you will say, “Molly Astore,” +the song he was encored for. Alas! for your ignorance;—that +might do very well in Liverpool or Manchester, at +Bath, Bristol, or Birmingham—the poor benighted Saxons +there might like to get what they asked so eagerly for; +but we are men of very different mould, and not +accustomed to the jog-trot subserviency of such common-sense +notions; and accordingly, Mr. Knight sang “The +Soldier Tired”—a piece of politeness on his part that +actually convulsed the house with acclamations; and so +on to the end of the entertainment, “the gentleman, when +encored, invariably sang a new song”—I quote the paper +<i>verbatim</i>—“which testimony of his anxiety to meet the +wishes of the audience afforded universal satisfaction.”</p> + +<p>Now, I ask—and I ask it in all the tranquillity of +triumph—show me the country on a map where such a +studied piece of courteous civility could have been +practised, or which, if attempted, could have been so +thoroughly, so instantaneously appreciated. And what an +insight does it give us into some of the most difficult +features of our national character. May not this Irish +encore explain the success with which Mr. O’Connell +consoles our “poverty” by attacks on the clergy, and +relieves our years of scarcity by creating forty-shilling +freeholders. We ask for bread; and he tells us we are a +great people—we beg for work, and he replies, that +we must have repeal of the union—we complain of +our poverty, and his remedy is—subscribe to the rent. +Your heavy-headed Englishman—your clod-hopper from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +Yorkshire—or your boor from Northumberland, would +never understand this, if you gave him a life-long to con +over it. Norfolk pudding to his gross and sensual nature +would seem better than the new registration bill; and +he’d rather hear the simmering music of the boiled beef for +his dinner, than all the rabid ruffianism of a repeal meeting.</p> + +<p>But to come back to ourselves. What bold and ample +views of life do our free-and-easy habits disclose to us, +not to speak of the very servant at table, who will often +help you to soup, when you ask for sherry, and give you +preserves, when you beg for pepper. What amiable +cross-purposes are we always playing at—not bigotedly +adhering to our own narrow notions, and following out our +own petty views of life, but eagerly doing what we have +no concern in, and meritoriously performing for our friends, +what they had been well pleased, we’d have let alone.</p> + +<p>This amiable waywardness—this pleasing uncertainty +of purpose—characterises our very climate; and the day +that breaks in sunshine becomes stormy at noon, calm +towards evening, and blows a hurricane all night. So +the Irishman that quits his home brimful of philanthropy +is not unlikely to rob a church before his return. But so +it is, there is nobody like us in any respect. We commemorate +the advent of a sovereign by erecting a testimonial +to the last spot he stood on at his departure; and +we are enthusiastic in our gratitude when, having asked for +one favour, we receive something as unlike it as possible.</p> + +<p>Our friends at the other side are beginning to legislate +for us in the true spirit of our prejudices; and when we +have complained of “a beggared proprietary and a ruined +gentry,” they have bolstered up our weakness with the +new poor law. So much for an Irish encore.</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_VICEREGAL_PRIVILEGES" id="A_NUT_FOR_VICEREGAL_PRIVILEGES"></a>A NUT FOR VICEREGAL PRIVILEGES.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“<span class="smcap">The</span> sixth of Anne, chap. seventeen, makes it unlawful to +keep gaming-houses in any part of the city except the ‘Castle,’ +and prohibits any game being played even there except during the +residence of the Lord Lieutenant. This act is still on the statute +book.”—<i>Dublin Paper.</i></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="smcap">One</span> might puzzle himself for a very long time for +an explanation of this strange <i>morceau</i> of legislation, +without any hope of arriving at a shadow of a reason +for it.</p> + +<p>That gaming should be suppressed by a government is +in no wise unnatural; nor should we feel any surprise at +our legislature having been a century in advance of +France, in the due restriction of this demoralizing practice. +But that the exercise of a vice should be limited to +the highest offices of the state is, indeed, singular, and +demands no little reflection on our part to investigate the +cause.</p> + +<p>Had the functions of Lord Lieutenant of Ireland been +of that drowsy, tiresome, uninteresting nature, that it +was only deemed fair by the legislature to afford him +some amusing pastime to distract his “<i>ennui</i>” and dispel +his melancholy, there might seem to have been then +some reason for this extraordinary enactment. On the +contrary, however, every one knows that from the +remotest times to the present, every viceroy of Ireland<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +has had quite enough on his hands. Some have been +saving money to pay off old mortgages, others were farming +the Phœnix; some took to the King Cambyses’ vein, +like poor dear Lord Normanby—raked up all the old properties +and faded finery of the Castle, and with such +material as they could collect, made a kind of Drury-lane +representation of a court. And very lately, and with an +originality so truly characteristic of true genius, Lord +Ebrington struck out a line of his own, and slept away +his time with such a persevering intensity of purpose, +that “the least wide-awake” persons of his government +became actually ashamed of themselves. But to go back. +What, I would ask, was the intention of this act? I know +you give it up. Well, now, I have made the matter the +subject of long and serious thought, and I think I have +discovered it.</p> + +<p>Have you ever read, in the laws of the smaller German +states, the singular rules and regulations regarding the +gaming-table? If so, you will have found how the +entire property of the “<i>rouge et noir</i>” and “<i>roulette</i>” is +vested in certain individuals in return for very considerable +sums of money, paid by them to the government, for +the privilege of robbing the public. These honourable +and estimable people farm out iniquity as you would do +your demesne, selling the cheatable features of mankind, +like the new corn law, on the principle of “a general +average.” The government of these states, finding—no +uncommon thing in Germany—a deficiency in their exchequer, +have hit upon this ready method of supplying +the gap, by a system which has all the regularity of a tax, +with the advantage of a voluntary contribution. These +little kingdoms, therefore, of some half-dozen miles in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +circumference, are nothing more than <i>rouge et noir</i> tables, +where the grand duke performs the part of croupier, and +gathers in the gold. Now, I am convinced that something +of this kind was intended by our lawgivers in the +act of parliament to which I have alluded, and that its +programme might run thus—that “as the office of Lord +Lieutenant in Ireland is one of great responsibility, high +trust, and necessarily demanding profuse expenditure; +and that, as it may so happen that the same should, in +the course of events, be filled by some Whig-Radical +viceroy of great pretension and little property; and that +as the ordinary sum for maintaining his dignity may be +deemed insufficient, we hereby give him the exclusive +liberty and privilege of all games of chance, skill, or +address, in the kingdom of Ireland, whether the same +may be chicken-hazard, blind hookey, head and tail, &c.—thimble-rigging +was only known later—to be enjoyed +by himself only, or by persons deputed by him; such +privilege in nowise to extend to the lords justices, but +only to exist during the actual residence and presence of +the Lord Lieutenant himself.”—<i>See the Act.</i></p> + +<p>I cannot but admire the admirable tact that dictated +this portion of legislation; at the same time, it does seem +a little hard that the chancellor, the archbishop, and the +other high functionaries, who administer the law in the +absence of the viceroy, should not have been permitted +the small privilege of a little unlimited loo, or even +beggar-my-neighbour, particularly as the latter game is +the popular one in Ireland.</p> + +<p>There would seem, too, something like an appreciation +of our national character in the spirit of this law, which, +unhappily for England, and Ireland, too, has not always<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +dictated her enactments concerning us. It is well known +that we hate and abhor anything in the shape of a legal +debt. Few Irishmen will refuse you the loan of five +pounds; still fewer can persuade themselves to pay five +shillings. The kingdom of Galway has long been celebrated +for its enlightened notions on this subject, showing +how much more conducive it is to personal independence +and domestic economy, to spend five hundred pounds in +resisting a claim, than to satisfy it by the payment of +twenty. Accordingly, had any direct taxation of considerable +amount been proposed for the support of viceregal +dignity, the chances are—much as we like show and +glitter, ardently as we admire all that gives us the +semblance of a state—we should have buttoned up our +pockets, and upon the principle of those economical little +tracts, that teach us to do so much for ourselves, every +man would have resolved to be “his own Lord Lieutenant;” +coming, however, in the shape of an indirect +taxation, a voluntary contribution to be withheld at +pleasure, the thing was unobjectionable.</p> + +<p>You might not like cards, still less the company—a +very possible circumstance, the latter, in some times we +wot of not long since—Well, then, you saved your cash +and your character by staying at home; on the other +hand, it was a comfort to know that you could have your +rubber of “shorts” or your game at <i>écarté</i>, while at the +same time you were contributing to the maintenance of +the crown, and discharging the <i>devoirs</i> of a loyal subject. +It is useless, however, to speculate upon an obsolete +institution; the law has fallen into disuse, and the more +is the pity. How one would like to have seen Lord +Normanby, with that one curl of infantine simplicity that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +played upon his forehead, with that eternal leer of self-satisfied +loveliness that rested on his features, playing +banker at <i>rouge et noir</i>, or calling the throws at hazard. +I am not quite so sure that the concern would have been +so profitable as picturesque. The principal frequenters +of his court were “York too;” Lord Plunket was a +“downy cove;” and if Anthony Blaek took the box, +most assuredly “I’d back the caster.” Now and then, +to be sure, a stray, misguided country gentleman—a kind +of “wet Tory”—used to be found at that court; just as +one sees some respectable matronly woman at Ems or +Baden, seated in a happy unconsciousness that all the +company about her are rogues and swindlers, so <i>he</i> might +afford some good sport, and assist to replenish the +famished exchequer. Generally speaking, however, the +play would not have kept the tables; and his lordship +would have been <i>in</i> for the wax-lights, without the +slightest chance of return.</p> + +<p>As for his successor, “patience” would have been his +only game; and indeed it was one he had to practise whilst +he remained amongst us. Better days have now come: let +us, therefore, inquire if a slight modification of the act +might not be effected with benefit, and an amendment, +somewhat thus, be introduced into the bill:—“That the +words ‘Lord Mayor’ be substituted for the words ‘Lord +Lieutenant;’ and that all the privileges, rights, immunities, +&c., aforesaid, be enjoyed by him to his sole use and +benefit; and also that, in place of the word ‘Castle,’ the +word ‘Mansion-house’ stand part of this bill”—thus +reserving to his lordship all monopoly in games of chance +and address, without in anywise interfering with such +practices of the like nature exercised by him elsewhere,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +and always permitted and conceded by whatever government +in power.</p> + +<p>Here, my dear countrymen, is no common suggestion. +I am no prophet, like Sir Harcourt Lees; but still I +venture to predict, that this system once legalised at the +Mayoralty, the tribute is totally unnecessary. The little +town of Spa, with scarce 10,000 inhabitants, pays the +Belgian government 200,000 francs per annum for the +liberty: what would Dublin—a city so populous and so +idle? only think of the tail!—how admirably they could +employ their little talent as “bonnets,” and the various +other functionaries so essential to the well-being of a +gambling-house; and, lastly, think of great Dan +himself, with his burly look, seated in civic dignity +at the green cloth, with a rake instead of a mace before +him, calling out, “Make your game, gentlemen, make +your game”—“Never venture, never win”—“Faint +heart,” &c., &c.</p> + +<p>How suitable would the eloquence that has now grown +tiresome, even at the Corn Exchange, be at the head of a +gaming-table; and how well would the Liberator conduct +a business whose motto is so admirably expressed by the +phrase, “Heads, <i>I</i> win; tails, <i>you</i> lose.” Besides, after +all, nothing could form so efficient a bond of union +between the two contending parties in the country as +some little mutual territory of wickedness, where both +might forget their virtues and their grievances together. +Here you’d soon have the violent party-man of either +side, oblivious of everything but his chance of gain; and +what an energy would it give to the great Daniel to think +that, while filling his pockets, he was also spoiling the +Egyptians! Instead, therefore, of making the poor man<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +contribute his penny, and the ragged man two-pence, +you’d have the Rent supplied without the trouble of +collection; and all from the affluent and the easy, or at +least the idle, portion of the community.</p> + +<p>This is the second time I have thrown out a suggestion—and +all for nothing, remember—on the subject of +afinance; and little reflection will show that both my +schemes are undeniable in their benefits. Here you have +one of the most expensive pleasures a poor country has +ever ventured to afford itself—a hired agitator, pensioned, +without any burden on the productive industry of the +land; and he himself, so far from having anything to +complain of, will find that his revenue is more than +quadrupled.</p> + +<p>Look at the question, besides, in another point of view, +and see what possible advantages may arise from it. +Nothing is so admirable an antidote to all political +excitement as gambling: where it flourishes, men become +so inextricably involved in its fascinations and attractions +that they forget everything else. Now, was ever a +country so urgently in want of a little repose as ours? +and would it not be well to purchase it, and pension off +our great disturbers, at any price whatever? Cards are +better than carding any day; short whist is an admirable +substitute for insurrection; and the rattle of a dice-box +is surely as pleasant music as the ruffian shout for +repeal.</p> + + + +<h2><a name="RICH_AND_POOR_POUR_ET_CONTRE" id="RICH_AND_POOR_POUR_ET_CONTRE"></a>RICH AND POOR—POUR ET CONTRE.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo118.jpg" width="200" height="209" alt="If" title="If" /> +</div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em; padding-top: 0.5em">I was a king upon a throne +this minute, an’ I wanted to +have a smoke for myself by +the fireside—why, if I was to +do my best, what could I +smoke but one pen’orth of +tobacco, in the night, after +all?—but can’t I have that +just as asy?</p> + +<p>“If I was to have a bed +with down feathers, what could I do but sleep there?—and +sure I can do that in the settle-bed above.”</p> + +<p>Such is the very just and philosophical reflection of +one of Griffin’s most amusing characters, in his inimitable +story of “The Collegians”—a reflection that naturally +sets us a thinking, that if riches and wealth cannot really +increase a man’s capacity for enjoyment with the enjoyments +themselves, their pursuit is, after all, but a poor +and barren object of even worldly happiness.</p> + +<p>As it is perfectly evident that, so far as mere sensual +gratifications are concerned, the peer and the peasant +stand pretty much on a level, let us inquire for a moment +in what the great superiority consists which exalts and +elevates one above the other? Now, without entering +upon that wild field for speculation that power (and what +power equals that conferred by wealth?) confers, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +train of ennobling sentiment suggested by extended views +of philanthropy and benevolence—for, in this respect, it +is perfectly possible the poor man has as amiable a thrill +at his heart in sharing his potato with a wandering +beggar, as the rich one has in contributing his thousand +pounds’ donation to some great national charity—let us +turn rather to the consideration of those more tangible +differences that leave their impress upon character, and +mould men’s minds into a fashion so perfectly and +thoroughly distinct.</p> + +<p>To our thinking, then, the great superiority wealth +confers lies in the seclusion the rich man lives in from all +the grosser agency of every-day life—its make-shifts, its +contrivances, its continued warfare of petty provision and +continual care, its unceasing effort to seem what it is +not, and to appear to the world in a garb, and after a +manner, to which it has no just pretension. The rich +man knows nothing of all this: life, to him, rolls on in +measured tread; and the world, albeit the changes of +season and politics may affect him, has nothing to call +forth any unusual effort of his temper or his intellect; +his life, like his drawing-room, is arranged for him; he +never sees it otherwise than in trim order; with an +internal consciousness that people must be engaged in +providing for his comforts at seasons when he is in bed or +asleep, or otherwise occupied, he gives himself no farther +trouble about them; and, in the monotony of his pleasures, +attains to a tranquillity of mind the most enviable +and most happy.</p> + +<p>Hence that perfect composure so conspicuous in the +higher ranks, among whom wealth is so generally diffused—hence +that delightful simplicity of manner, so captivating<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +from its total absence of pretension and affectation—hence +that unbroken serenity that no chances or +disappointments would seem to interfere with; the +knowledge that he is of far too much consequence to be +neglected or forgotten, supports him on every occasion, +and teaches that, when anything happens to his inconvenience +or discomfort, that it could not but be +unavoidable.</p> + +<p>Not so the poor man: his poverty is a shoe that +pinches every hour of the twenty-four; he may bear up +from habit, from philosophy, against his restricted means of +enjoyment; he may accustom himself to limited and narrow +bounds of pleasure; he may teach himself that, when +wetting his lips with the cup of happiness, that he is not +to drink to his liking of it: but what he cannot acquire +is that total absence of all forethought for the minor cares +of life, its provisions for the future, its changes and +contingencies—hence he does not possess that easy and +tranquil temperament so captivating to all within its +influence; he has none of the careless <i>abandon</i> of happiness, +because even when happy he feels how short-lived +must be his pleasure, and what a price he must pay for +it. The thought of the future poisons the present, just as +the dark cloud that gathers round the mountain-top +makes the sunlight upon the plain seem cold and sickly.</p> + +<p>All the poor man’s pleasures have taken such time +and care in their preparation that they have lost their +freshness ere they are tasted. The cook has sipped so +frequently at the pottage, he will not eat of it when at +table. The poor man sees life “<i>en papillotes</i>” before he +sees it “dressed.” The rich man sees it only in the +resplendent blaze of its beauty, glowing with all the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +attraction that art can lend it, and wearing smiles put on +for his own enjoyment. But if such be the case, and if +the rich man, from the very circumstance of his position, +imbibe habits and acquire a temperament possessing such +charm and fascination, does he surrender nothing for all +this? Alas! and alas! how many of the charities of life +lie buried in the still waters of his apathetic nature! +How many of the warm feelings of his heart are chilled +for ever, for want of ground for their exercise! How can +he sympathise who has never suffered? how can he console +who has never grieved? There is nothing healthy in +the placid mirror of that glassy lake; uncurled by a +breeze, unruffled by a breath of passion, it wants the +wholesome agitation of the breaking wave—the health-giving, +bracing power of the conflicting element that stirs +the heart within, and nerves it for a noble effort.</p> + +<p>All that he has of good within him is cramped by <i>convenance</i> +and fashion; for he who never feared the chance +of fortune, trembles, with a coward’s dread, before the +sneer of the world. The poor man, however, only appeals +to this test on a very different score. The “world” may +prescribe to him the fashion of his hat, or the colour of +his coat—it may dictate the <i>locale</i> of his residence, and +the style of his household, and he may, so far as in him +lies, comply with a tyranny so absurd; but with the free +sentiments of his nature—his honest pride, his feeling +sympathy—with the open current of his warm affection +he suffers no interference: of this no man shall be the +arbiter. If, then, the shoals and quicksands of the world +deprive him of that tranquil guise and placid look—the +enviable gift of richer men—he has, in requital, the unrestricted +use of those greater gifts that God has given<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +him, untrammelled by man’s opinion, uncurbed by the +control of “the world.”</p> + +<p>Each supports a tyranny after his own kind:—</p> + +<p>The rich man—above the dictates of fashion—subjects +the thoughts of his mind and the meditations of his heart +to the world’s rule.</p> + +<p>The poor man—below it—keeps these for his prerogative, +and has no slavery save in form.</p> + +<p>Happy the man who, amid all the seductions of wealth, +and all the blandishments of fortune, can keep his heart +and mind in the healthy exercise of its warm affections +and its generous impulses. But still happier he, whose +wealth, the native purity of his heart—can limit his +desires to his means, and untrammelled by ambition, +undeterred by fear of failure, treads the lowly but peaceful +path in life, neither aspiring to be great, nor fearing +to be humble.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illo123.jpg" width="400" height="424" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_ST_PATRICKS_NIGHT" id="A_NUT_FOR_ST_PATRICKS_NIGHT"></a>A NUT FOR ST. PATRICK’S NIGHT.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> is no cant offends me more than the oft-repeated +criticisms on the changed condition of Ireland. How very +much worse or how very much better we have become +since this ministry, or that measure—what a deplorable +falling off!—what a gratifying prospect! how poor! how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +prosperous! &c. &c. Now, we are exactly what and +where we used to be: not a whit wiser nor better, poorer +nor prouder. The union, the relief bill, the reform and +corporation acts, have passed over us, like the summer +breeze upon the calm water of a lake, ruffling the surface +for a moment, but leaving all still and stagnant as before. +Making new laws for the use of a people who would not +obey the old ones, is much like the policy of altering the +collar or the cuffs of a coat for a savage, who insists all the +while on going naked. However, it amuses the gentlemen +of St. Stephen’s; and, I’m sure I’m not the man to quarrel +with innocent pleasures.</p> + +<p>To me, looking back, as my Lord Brougham would say, +from the period of a long life, I cannot perceive even the +slightest difference in the appearance of the land, or the +looks of its inhabitants. Dublin is the same dirty, ill-cared-for, +broken-windowed, tumble-down concern it used +to be—the country the same untilled, weed-grown, unfenced +thing I remember it fifty years ago—the society +pretty much the same mixture of shrewd lawyers, suave +doctors, raw subalterns, and fat, old, greasy country gentlemen, +waiting in town for remittances to carry them on +to Cheltenham—that paradise of Paddies, and elysium of +Galway <i>belles</i>. Our table-talk the old story, of who was +killed last in Tipperary or Limerick, with the accustomed +seasoning of the oft-repeated alibi that figures at every +assizes, and is successful with every jury. These pleasant +topics, tinted with the party colour of the speaker’s politics, +form the staple of conversation; and, “barring the +wit,” we are pretty much what our fathers were some +half century earlier. Father Mathew, to be sure, has innovated +somewhat on our ancient prejudices; but I find<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +that what are called “the upper classes” are far too cultivated +and too well-informed to follow a priest. A few +weeks ago, I had a striking illustration of this fact brought +before me, which I am disposed to quote the more willingly +as it also serves to display the admirable constancy +with which we adhere to our old and time-honoured +habits. The morning of St. Patrick’s day was celebrated +in Dublin by an immense procession of teetotallers, who, +with white banners, and whiter cheeks, paraded the city, +evidencing in their cleanly but care-worn countenances, +the benefits of temperance. On the same evening a gentleman—so +speak the morning papers—got immoderately +drunk at the ball in the Castle, and was carried out in a +state of insensibility. Now, it is not for the sake of contrast +I have mentioned this fact—my present speculation +has another and very different object, and is simply this:—How +comes it, that since time out of mind the same +event has recurred on the anniversary of St. Patrick at +the Irish court? When I was a boy I remember well +“the gentleman who became so awfully drunk,” &c. +Every administration, from the Duke of Rutland downwards, +has had its drunken gentleman on “St. Patrick’s +night.” Where do they keep him all the year long?—what +do they do with him?—are questions I continually +am asking myself. Under what name and designation +does he figure in the pension list? for of course I am not +silly enough to suppose that a well-ordered government +would depend on chance for functionaries like these. One +might as well suppose they would calculate on some one +improvising Sir William Betham, or extemporaneously +performing “God save the Queen,” on the state trumpet, +in lieu of that amiable individual who distends his loyal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +cheeks on our great anniversaries. No, no. I am well +aware he is a member of the household, or at least in the +pay of the government. When the pope converts his +Jew on Holy Thursday, the Catholic church have had +ample time for preparation: the cardinals are on the +look-out for weeks before, to catch one for his holiness—a +good respectable hirsute Israelite, with a strong Judas +expression to magnify the miracle. But then the Jew is +passive in the affair, and has only to be converted patiently—whereas +“the gentleman” has an active duty to +discharge; he must imbibe sherry, iced punch, and champagne, +at such a rate that he can be able to shock the +company, before the rooms thin, with his intemperate +excess. Besides, to give the devil—the pope, I mean—his +Jew, they snare a fresh one every Easter. Now, I am +fully persuaded that, at our Irish court, the same gentleman +has performed the part for upwards of fifty years.</p> + +<p>At the ancient banquets it was always looked upon as +a triumph of Amphitryonism when a guest or two died +the day after of indigestion, from over eating. Now, is it +not possible that our classic origin may have imparted to +us the trait I am speaking of, and that “the gentleman” +is retained as typical of our exceeding hilarity and consummate +conviviality—an evidence to the “great unasked” +that the festivities within doors are conducted on +a scale of boundless profusion and extravagance—that +the fountains from which honour flows, run also with +champagne, and that punch and the peerage are to be +seen bubbling from the same source.</p> + +<p>It is a sad thing to think that the gifted man, who has +served his country so faithfully in this capacity for so +long a period, must now be stricken in years. Time and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +rum must be telling upon him; and yet, what should we +do were we to lose him?</p> + +<p>In the chapel of Maria Zell, in Styria, there is a portly +figure of St. Somebody, with more consonants than I find +it prudent to venture on from mere memory; the priest +is rolling his eyes very benignly on the frequenters of the +chapel, as they pass by the shrine he resides in. The +story goes, that when the saint ceases winking, some great +calamity will occur to the commune and its inhabitants. +Now, the last time I saw him, he was in great vigour, +ogled away with his accustomed energy, and even, I +thought—perhaps it was a suspicion on my part—had +actually strained his eyeballs into something like a squint, +from actual eagerness to oblige his votaries—a circumstance +happily of the less moment in our days, as a gifted +countryman of ours could have remedied the defect in no +time. But to return; my theory is, that when we lose +our tipsy friend it’s all up with us; “Birnam wood will +then have come to Dunsinane;” and what misfortunes +may befal us, Sir Harcourt Lees may foresee, but I confess +myself totally unable to predicate.</p> + +<p>Were I the viceroy, I’d not sleep another night in the +island. I’d pack up the regalia, send for Anthony Blake +to take charge of the country, and start for Liverpool in +the mail-packet.</p> + +<p>Happily, however, such an event may be still distant; +and although the Austrians have but one Metternich, we +may find a successor to our “Knight of St. Patrick.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/illo129.jpg" width="450" height="580" alt="Gentlemen Jocks." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Gentlemen Jocks.</span> +</div> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_GENTLEMAN_JOCKS" id="A_NUT_FOR_GENTLEMAN_JOCKS"></a>A NUT FOR “GENTLEMAN JOCKS.”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">“The</span> Honourable Fitzroy Shuffleton,” I quote <i>The +Morning Post</i>, “who rode Bees-wing, came in a winner +amid deafening cheers. Never was a race better contested; +and although, when passing the distance-post, +the Langar colt seemed to have the best of it, yet such +was Mr. Shuffleton’s tact and jockeyship, that he shot +a-head in advance of his adversary, and came in first.” +I omit the passages descriptive of the peculiar cleverness +displayed by this gifted gentleman. I omit also that +glorious outbreak of newspaper eloquence, in which the +delight of his friends is expressed—the tears of joy from +his sisters—the cambric handkerchiefs that floated in the +air—the innumerable and reiterated cries of “Well done!—he’s +a trump!—the right sort!” &c. &c., so profusely +employed by the crowd, because I am fully satisfied with +what general approbation such proofs of ability are +witnessed.</p> + +<p>We are a great nation, and nowhere is our greatness +more conspicuous than in the education of our youth. +The young Frenchman seems to fulfil his destiny, when, +having drawn on a pair of the most tight-fitting kid gloves, +of that precise shade of colour so approved of by Madame +Laffarge, he saunters forth on the Boulevard de Gand, or +lounges in the <i>coulisse</i> of the opera.</p> + +<p>The German, whose contempt not only extends to glove-leather, +but clean hands, betakes himself early in life to +the way he should go, and from which, to do him justice, +he never shows any inclination to depart. A meerschaum<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +some three feet long, and a tobacco bag like a school-boy’s +satchel, supply his wants in life. The dreamy visions of +the unreal woes, and the still more unreal greatness of his +country, form the pabulum for his thoughts; and he has +no other ambition, for some half dozen years of his life, +than to boast his utter indifference to kings and clean water.</p> + +<p>Now, we manage matters somewhat better. Our young +men, from the very outset of their career, are admirable +jockeys; and if by any fatality, like the dreadful revolution +of France, our nobles should be compelled to emigrate +from their native land, instead of teaching mathematics +and music, the small sword and quadrilles, we shall have +the satisfaction of knowing that we supply stable-boys to +the whole of Europe.</p> + +<p>Whatever other people may say or think, I put a great +value on this equestrian taste. I speak not here of +the manly nature of horse exercise—of the noble and +vigorous pursuits of the hunting field. No; I direct my +observations solely to the heroes of Ascot and Epsom—of +Doncaster and Goodwood. I only speak of those whose +pleasure it is to read no book save the Racing Calendar, +and frequent no lounge but Tattersall’s; who esteem +the stripes of a racing-jacket more honourable than the +ribbon of the Bath, and look to a well-timed “hustle” or +“a shake” as the climax of human ability. These are +fine fellows, and I prize them. But if it be not only +praiseworthy, but pleasant, to ride for the Duke’s cup at +Goodwood, or the Corinthian’s at the Curragh, why not +extend the sphere of the utility, and become as amiable +in private as they are conspicuous in public life?</p> + +<p>We have seen them in silk jackets of various hues, +with leathers and tops of most accurate fitting, turn out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +amid the pelting of a most pitiless storm, to ride some +three miles of spongy turf, at the hazard of their necks, +and the almost certainty of a rheumatic fever; and why, +donning the same or some similar costume, will they not +perform the office of postillion, when their fathers, or +mayhap, some venerated aunt, is returning by the north +road to an antiquated mansion in Yorkshire? The pace, +to be sure, is not so fast—but it compensates in safety +what it loses in speed—the assemblage around is not so +numerous, or the excitement so great; but filial tenderness +is a nobler motive than the acclamations of a mob. +In fact, the parallel presents all the advantages on one +side: and the jockey is as inferior to the postillion as the +fitful glare of an <i>ignis-fatuus</i> is to the steady brilliancy +of a gas-lamp.</p> + +<p>An Englishman has a natural pride in the navy of his +country—our wooden walls are a glorious boast; but, +perhaps, after all, there is nothing more captivating in the +whole detail of the service, than the fact that even the +highest and the noblest in the land has no royal road to its +promotion, but, beginning at the very humblest step, he +must work his way through every grade and every rank, +like his comrades around him. Many there are now living +who remember Prince William, as he was called—late +William the Fourth, of glorious memory—sitting in the +stern seats of a gig, his worn jacket and weather-beaten +hat attesting that even the son of a king had no immunity +from the hardships of the sea. This is a proud thought +for Englishmen, and well suited to gratify their inherent +loyalty and their sturdy independence. Now, might we +not advantageously extend the influence of such examples, +by the suggestion I have thrown out above? If a foreigner<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +be now struck by hearing, as he walks through the dockyard +at Plymouth, that the little middy who touches his +hat with such obsequious politeness, is the Marquis of +——, or the Earl of ——, with some fifty thousand +per annum, how much more astonished will he be on +learning that he owes the rapidity with which he traversed +the last stage to his having been driven by Lord Wilton—or +that the lengthy proportions, so dexterously gathered +up in the saddle, belong to an ex-ambassador from St. +Petersburgh. How surprised would he feel, too, that +instead of the low habits and coarse tastes he would look +for in that condition in life, he would now see elegant and +accomplished gentlemen, sipping a glass of curaçoa at the +end of a stage; or, mayhap, offering a pinch of snuff from +a box worth five hundred guineas. What a fascinating conception +would he form of our country from such examples +as this! and how insensibly would not only the polished +taste and the high-bred depravity of the better classes be +disseminated through the country; but, by an admirable +reciprocity, the coarsest vices of the lowest would be +introduced among the highest in the land. The race-course +has done much for this, but the road would do far +more. Slang is now but the language of the <i>élite</i>—it +would then become the vulgar tongue; and, in fact, there +is no predicting the amount of national benefit likely to +arise from an amalgamation of all ranks in society, where +the bond of union is so honourable in its nature. Cultivate, +then, ye youth of England—ye scions of the Tudors +and the Plantagenets—with all the blood of all the Howards +in your veins—cultivate the race-course—study the +stable—read the Racing Calendar. What are the precepts +of Bacon or the learning of Boyle compared to the pedigree<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +of Grey Momus, or the reason that Tramp “is wrong?” +“A dark horse” is a far more interesting subject of inquiry +than an eclipse of the moon, and a judge of pace a +much more exalted individual than a judge of assize.</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_YOUNGER_SONS" id="A_NUT_FOR_YOUNGER_SONS"></a>A NUT FOR YOUNGER SONS.</h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo134.jpg" width="200" height="206" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p style="text-indent: 0em"><span class="smcap">Douglas Jerrold,</span> in his +amusing book, “Cakes and +Ale,” quotes an exquisite +essay written to prove the +sufficiency of thirty pounds +a-year for all a man’s daily +wants and comforts—allowing +at least five shillings a +quarter for the conversion of +the Jews—and in which every +outlay is so nicely calculated, that it must be wilful +eccentricity if the pauper gentleman, at the end of the +year, either owes a shilling or has one. To say the least +of it, this is close shaving; and, as I detest experimental +philosophy, I’d rather not try it. At the same time, in +this age of general glut, when all professions are overstocked—when +you might pave the Strand with parsons’ +skulls, and thatch your barn with the surplus of the +college of physicians; when there are neither waste lands +to till and give us ague and typhus, nor war to thin us—what +are we to do? The subdivision of labour in every +walk in life has been carried to its utmost limits: if it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +takes nine tailors to make a man, it takes nine men to +make a needle. Even in the learned professions, as they +are called, this system is carried out; and as you have a +lawyer for equity, another for the Common Pleas, a third +for the Old Bailey, &c., so your doctor, now-a-days, has +split up his art, and one man takes charge of your teeth, +another has the eye department, another the ear, a fourth +looks after your corns; so that, in fact, the complex +machinery of your structure strikes you as admirably +adapted to give employment to an ingenious and anxious +population, who, until our present civilization, never +dreamed of morselling out mankind for their benefit.</p> + +<p>As to commerce, our late experiences have chiefly +pointed to the pleasure of trading with nations who +will not pay their debts,—like the Yankees. There is, +then, little encouragement in that quarter. What then +remains I scarcely know. The United Services are +pleasant, but poor things by way of a provision for life. +Coach-driving, that admirable refuge for the destitute, has +been smashed by the railroads; and there is a kind of +prejudice against a man of family sweeping the crossings. +For my own part, I lean to something dignified and +respectable—something that does not compromise “the +cloth,” and which, without being absolutely a sinecure, +never exacts any undue or extraordinary exertion,—driving +a hearse, for instance: even this, however, is +greatly run upon; and the cholera, at its departure, threw +very many out of employment. However, the question +is, what can a man of small means do with his son? +Short whist is a very snug thing—if a man have natural +gifts,—that happy conformation of the fingers, that ample +range of vision, that takes in everything around. But I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +must not suppose these by any means general—and I +legislate for the mass. The turf has also the same +difficulties,—so has toad-eating; indeed these three walks +might be included among the learned professions.</p> + +<p>As to railroads, I’m sick of hearing of them for the +last three years. Every family in the empire has at least +one civil engineer within its precincts; and I’m confident, +if their sides were as hard as their skulls, you +could make sleepers for the whole Grand Junction by +merely decimating the unemployed.</p> + +<p>Tax-collecting does, to be sure, offer some little +prospect; but that won’t last. Indeed, the very working +of the process will limit the advantages of this opening,—gradually +converting all the payers into paupers. Now +I have meditated long and anxiously on the subject, conversing +with others whose opportunities of knowing the +world were considerable, but never could I find that +ingenuity opened any new path, without its being so +instantaneously overstocked that competition alone denied +every chance of success.</p> + +<p>One man of original genius I did, indeed, come upon, +and his career had been eminently successful. He was a +Belgian physician, who, having in vain attempted all the +ordinary modes of obtaining practice, collected together +the little residue of his fortune, and sailed for Barbadoes, +where he struck out for himself the following +singularly new and original plan:—He purchased all the +disabled, sick, and ailing negroes that he could find; +every poor fellow whose case seemed past hope, but yet +to his critical eye was still curable, these he bought up; +they were, of course, dead bargains. The masters were +delighted to get rid of them—they were actually “eating<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +their heads off;” but the doctor knew, that though they +looked somewhat “groggy,” still there was a “go” in +them yet.</p> + +<p>By care, skill, and good management, they recovered +under his hands, and frequently were re-sold to the +original proprietor, who was totally unconscious that the +sleek and shining nigger before him had been the poor, +decrepid, sickly creature of some weeks before.</p> + +<p>The humanity of this proceeding is self-evident: a +word need not be said more on that subject. But it was +no less profitable than merciful. The originator of the +plan retired from business with a large fortune, amassed, +too, in an inconceivably short space of time. The +shrewdest proprietor of a fast coach never could throw a +more critical eye over a new wheeler or a broken-down +leader, than did he on the object of his professional skill; +detecting at a glance the extent of his ailments, and +calculating, with a Babbage-like accuracy, the cost of +keep, physic, and attendance, and setting them off, in his +mind, against the probable price of the sound man. What +consummate skill was here! Not merely, like Brodie or +Crampton, anticipating the possible recovery of the +patient, but estimating the extent of the restoration—the +time it would take—ay, the very number of basins of +chicken-broth and barley-gruel that he would devour, <i>ad +interim</i>. This was the cleverest physician I ever knew. +The present altered condition of West Indian property +has, however, closed this opening to fortune, in which, +after all, nothing short of first-rate ability could have +ensured success.</p> + +<p>I have just read over the preceding “nut” to my old +friend, Mr. Synnet, of Mulloglass, whose deep knowledge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +of the world makes him no mean critic on such a subject. +His words are these:—</p> + +<p>“There is some truth in what you remark—the world +is too full of us. There is, however, a very nice walk in +life much neglected.”</p> + +<p>“And what may that be?” said I, eagerly.</p> + +<p>“The mortgagee,” replied he, sententiously.</p> + +<p>“I don’t perfectly comprehend.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well! what I mean is this: suppose, now, you +have only a couple of thousand pounds to leave your son—maybe, +you have not more than a single thousand—now, +my advice is, not to squander your fortune in any +such absurdity as a learned profession, a commission in +the Line, or any other miserable existence, but just look +about you, in the west of Ireland, for the fellow that has +the best house, the best cellar, the best cook, and the best +stable. He is sure to want money, and will be delighted +to get a loan. Lend it to him: make hard terms, of course. +For this—as you are never to be paid—the obligation of +your forbearance will be the greater. Now, mark me, +from the day the deed is signed, you have snug quarters +in Galway, not only in your friend’s house, but among all +his relations—Blakes, Burkes, Bodkins, Kirwans, &c., to +no end; you have the run of the whole concern—the best +of living, great drink, and hunting in abundance. You +must talk of the loan now and then, just to jog their +memory; but be always ‘too much the gentleman’ to +ask for your money; and it will even go hard, but from +sheer popularity, they will make you member for the +county. This is the only new thing, in the way of a +career, I know of, and I have great pleasure in throwing +out the suggestion for the benefit of younger sons.”</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_THE_PENAL_CODE" id="A_NUT_FOR_THE_PENAL_CODE"></a>A NUT FOR THE PENAL CODE.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> has often struck me that the monotony of occupation +is a heavier infliction than the monotony of reflection. +The same dull round of duty, which while it demands a +certain amount of labour, excludes all opportunity of +thought, making man no better than the piston of a +steam-engine, is a very frightful and debasing process. +Whereas, however much there may be of suffering in +solitude, our minds are not imprisoned; our thoughts, +unchained and unfettered, stroll far away to pleasant +pasturages; we cross the broad blue sea, and tread the +ferny mountain-side, and live once more the sunny hours +of boyhood; or we build up in imagination a peaceful and +happy future.</p> + +<p>That the power of fancy and the play of genius are not +interrupted by the still solitude of the prison, I need only +quote Cervantes, whose immortal work was accomplished +during the tedious hours of a captivity, unrelieved by one +office of friendship, uncheered by one solitary ray of hope.</p> + +<p>Taking this view of the matter, it will be at once perceived +how much more severe a penalty solitary confinement +must be, to the man of narrow mind and limited +resources of thought, than to him of cultivated understanding +and wider range of mental exercise. In the one case, +it is a punishment of the most terrific kind—and nothing +can equal that awful lethargy of the soul, that wraps a man +as in a garment, shrouding him from the bright world +without, and leaving him nought save the darkness of his +gloomy nature to brood over. In the other, there is something<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +soothing amid all the melancholy of the state, in the +unbroken soaring of thought, that, lifting man above the +cares and collisions of daily life, bear him far away to +the rich paradise of his mind-made treasures—peopling +space with images of beauty—and leave him to dream +away existence amid the scenes and features he loved to +gaze on.</p> + +<p>Now, to turn for the moment from this picture, let us +consider whether our government is wise in this universal +application of a punishment, which, while it operates so +severely in one case, may really be regarded as a boon in +the other.</p> + +<p>The healthy peasant, who rises with the sun, and +breathes the free air of his native hills, may and will feel +all the infliction of confinement, which, while it chains +his limbs, stagnates his faculties. Not so the sedentary +and solitary man of letters. Your cell becomes <i>his</i> study: +the window may be somewhat narrower—the lattice, that +was wont to open to the climbing honeysuckle, may now +be barred with its iron stanchions; but he soon forgets +this. “His mind to him a palace is,” wherein he dwells +at peace. Now, to put them on something of a par, I +have a suggestion to make to the legislature, which I shall +condense as briefly as possible. Never sentence your +man of education, whatever his offence, to solitary confinement; +but condemn him to dine out, in Dublin, for +seven or fourteen years—or, in murder cases, for the term +of his natural life. For slight offences, a week’s dinners, +and a few evening parties might be sufficient—while old +offenders and bad cases, might be sent to the north side +of the city.</p> + +<p>It may be objected to this—that insanity, which so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +often occurs in the one case, would supervene in the +other; but I rather think not. My own experience could +show many elderly people of both sexes, long inured to +this state, who have only fallen into a sullen and apathetic +fatuity; but who, bating deafness and a look of dogged +stupidity, are still reasoning beings—what they once were, +it is hard to say.</p> + +<p>But I take the man who, for some infraction of the +law, is suddenly carried away from his home and friends—the +man of mind, of reading, and reflection. Imagine +him, day after day, beholding the everlasting saddle of +mutton—the eternal three chickens, with the tongue in +the midst of them; the same travesty of French cookery +that pervades the side-dishes—the hot sherry, the sour +Moselle: think of him, eating out his days through these, +unchanged, unchangeable—with the same <i>cortège</i> of lawyers +and lawyers’ wives—doctors, male and female—surgeons, +subalterns, and, mayhap, attorneys: think of the old +jokes he has been hearing from childhood still ringing in +his ears, accompanied by the same laugh which he has +tracked from its burst in boyhood to its last cackle in +dotage: behold him, as he sits amid the same young +ladies, in pink and blue, and the same elderly ones, in +scarlet and purple; see him, as he watches every sign +and pass-word that have marked these dinners for the +long term of his sentence, and say if his punishment be +not indeed severe.</p> + +<p>Then think how edifying the very example of his suffering, +as, with pale cheek and lustreless eye—silent, sad, +and lonely—he sits there! How powerfully such a warning +must speak to others, who, from accident or misfortune, +may be momentarily thrown in his society.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p> + +<p>The suggestion, I own, will demand a much more ample +detail, and considerable modification. Among other +precautions, for instance, more than one convict should +not be admitted to any table, lest they might fraternize +together, and become independent of the company in +mutual intercourse, &c.</p> + +<p>These may all, however, be carefully considered hereafter: +the principle is the only thing I would insist on +for the present, and now leave the matter in the hands of +our rulers.</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_THE_OLD" id="A_NUT_FOR_THE_OLD"></a>A NUT FOR THE OLD.</h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Of</span> all the virtues which grace and adorn the inhabitants +of these islands, I know of none which can in anywise +be compared with the deep and profound veneration +we show to old age. Not content with paying it that +deference and respect so essentially its due, we go even +further, and by a courteous adulation would impose upon +it the notion, that years have not detracted from the gifts +which were so conspicuous in youth, and that the winter +of life is as full of promise and performance, as the most +budding hours of spring-time.</p> + +<p>Walk through the halls of Greenwich and Chelsea—or, +if the excursion be too far for you, as a Dubliner, stroll +down to the Old Man’s Hospital, and cast your eyes on +those venerable “fogies,” as they are sometimes irreverently +called, and look with what a critical and studious +politeness the state has invested every detail of their +daily life. Not fed, housed, or clothed like the “debris<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>” +of humanity, to whom the mere necessaries of existence +were meted out, but actually a species of flattering illusion +is woven around them. They are dressed in a uniform; +wear a strange, quaint military costume; are +officered and inspected like soldiers; mount guard; +answer roll-call, and mess as of yore.</p> + +<p>They are permitted, from time to time, to clean and +burnish pieces of ordnance, old, time-worn, and useless +as themselves, and are marched certain short and suitable +distances to and from their dining-hall, with all the +“pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war.” I like +all this. There is something of good and kindly feeling +in perpetuating the delusion that has lasted for so many +years of life, and making the very resting-place of their +meritorious services recall to them the details of those +duties, for the performance of which they have reaped +their country’s gratitude.</p> + +<p>The same amiable feeling, the same grateful spirit of +respect, would seem, from time to time, to actuate the +different governments that wield our destinies, in their +promotions to the upper house.</p> + +<p>Some old, feeble, partizan of the ministry, who has +worn himself to a skeleton by late sittings; dried, like a +potted herring, by committee labour; hoarse with fifty +years’ cheering of his party, and deaf from the cries of +“divide” and “adjourn” that have been ringing in his +ears for the last cycle of his existence, is selected for promotion +to the peerage. He was eloquent in his day, too, +perhaps; but that day is gone by. His speech upon a +great question was once a momentous event, but now his +vote is mumbled in tones scarce audible.—Gratefully +mindful of his “has been,” his party provide him with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +an asylum, where the residue of his days may be passed +in peace and pleasantness.</p> + +<p>Careful not to break the spell that has bound him to +life, they surround him with some semblance of his former +state, suited in all respects to his age, his decrepitude, +and his debility; they pour water upon the leaves of his +politics, and give him a weak and pleasant beverage, that +can never irritate his nerves, nor destroy his slumbers. +Some insignificant bills—some unimportant appeals—some +stray fragments that fall from the tables of sturdier +politicians, are his daily diet; and he dozes away the +remainder of life, happy and contented in the simple and +beautiful delusion that he is legislating and ruling—just +as warrantable the while, as his compeer of Chelsea, in +deeming his mock parades the forced marches of the +Peninsula, and his Sunday guards the dispositions for a +Toulouse or a Waterloo.</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_THE_ART_UNION" id="A_NUT_FOR_THE_ART_UNION"></a>A NUT FOR THE ART UNION.</h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> battle between the “big and little-endians” in +Gulliver, was nothing to the fight between the Destructives +and Conservatives of the Irish Art Union. A few +months since the former party deciding that the engraved +plate of Mr. Burton’s picture should be broken up; the +latter protesting against the Vandalism of destroying a +first-rate work of art, and preventing the full triumph of +the artist’s genius, in the circulation of a print so creditable +to himself and to his country.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p> + +<p>The great argument of the Destructives was this:—We +are the devoted friends of art—we love it—we glory +in it—we cherish it: yea, we even give a guinea a-year +a-piece for the encouragement of a society established for +its protection and promotion;—this society pledging themselves +that we shall have in return—what think ye?—the +immortal honour of raising a school of painting in our +native country?—the conscientious sense of a high-souled +patriotism?—the prospect of future estimation at the +hands of a posterity who are to benefit by our labours? +Not at all: nothing of all this. We are far too great +materialists for such shadowy pleasures; we are to receive +a plate, whose value is in the direct ratio of its rarity, +“which shall certainly be of more than the amount of +our subscription,” and, maybe, of five times that sum. +The fewer the copies issued, the rarer (<i>i. e.</i>, the dearer) +each impression. We are the friends of art—therefore, +we say, smash the copper-plate, destroy every vestige of +the graver’s art, we are supplied, and heaven knows to +what price these engravings may not subsequently rise!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/illo146.jpg" width="450" height="575" alt="“This is a Rembrandt.”" title="" /> +<span class="caption">“This is a Rembrandt.”</span> +</div> + +<p>Now, I like these people. There is something bold, +something masterly, something decided, in their coming +forward and fighting the battle on its true grounds. There +is no absurd affectation about the circulation of a clever +picture disseminating in remote and scarce-visited districts +the knowledge of a great man and a great work; +there is no prosy nonsense about encouraging the genius +of our own country, and showing with pride to her +prouder sister, that we are not unworthy to contend in +the race with her. Nothing of this.—They resolve +themselves, by an open and candid admission, into a +committee of printsellers, and they cry with one voice—“No<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +free trade in ‘The Blind Girl’—no sliding scale—no +fixed duty—nothing save absolute, actual prohibition!” +It is with pride I confess myself of this party: perish +art! down with painting! to the ground with every effort +of native genius! but keep up the price of our engraving, +which, with the rapid development of Mr. Burton’s +talent, may yet reach ten, nay, twenty guineas for an +impression. But in the midst of my enthusiasm, a still +small voice of fear is whispering ever:—Mayhap this +gifted man may live to eclipse the triumphs of his youthful +genius: it may be, that, as he advances in life, his +talents, matured by study and cultivation, may ascend +to still higher flights, and this, his early work, be merely +the beacon-light that attracted men in the outset of his +career, and only be esteemed as the first throes of his +intellect. What is to be done in this case? It is true +we have suppressed “The Blind Girl;” we have smashed +<i>that</i> plate; but how shall we prevent him from prosecuting +those studies that already are leading him to the +first rank of his profession? Disgust at our treatment +may do much; but yet, his mission may suggest higher +thoughts than are assailable by us and our measures. I +fear, now, that but one course is open; and it is with +sorrow I confess, that, however indisposed to the shedding +of blood, however unsuited by my nature and habits to +murderous deeds, I see nothing for us but—to smash +Mr. Burton.</p> + +<p>By accepting this suggestion, not only will the engravings, +but the picture itself, attain an increased value. If +dead men are not novelists, neither are they painters; +and Mr. Burton, it is expected, will prove no exception +to the rule. Get rid of him, then, at once, and by all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +means. Let this resolution be brought forward at the +next general meeting, by any leader of the Destructive +party, and I pledge myself to second and defend it, by +every argument, used with such force and eloquence for +the destruction of the copper-plate. I am sure the talented +gentleman himself will, when he is put in possession of +our motives, offer no opposition to so natural a desire +on our part, but will afford every facility in his power for +being, as the war-cry of the party has it, “broken up and +destroyed.”</p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illo150.jpg" width="400" height="375" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2>A NUT FOR THE KINGSTOWN RAILWAY.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">If</span> the wise Calif who studied mankind by sitting on +the bridge at Bagdad, had lived in our country, and in +our times, he doubtless would have become a subscriber +to the Kingstown railway. There, for the moderate sum +of some ten or twelve pounds per annum, he might have +indulged his peculiar vein, while wafted pleasantly through +the air, and obtained a greater insight into character and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +individuality, inasmuch as the objects of his investigation +would be all sitting shots, at least for half an hour. +Segur’s “Quâtre Ages de la Vie” never marked out +mankind like the half-hour trains. To the uninitiated +and careless observer, the company would appear a mixed +and heterogeneous mass of old and young, of both sexes—some +sickly, some sulky, some solemn, and some shy. +Classification of them would be deemed impossible. Not +so, however; for, as to the ignorant the section of a +mountain would only present some confused heap of stone +and gravel, clay and marl; to the geologist, strata of +divers kinds, layers of various ages, would appear, all +indicative of features, and teeming with interests, of +which the other knew nothing: so, to the studious observer, +this seeming commixture of men, this tangled web +of humanity, unravels itself before him, and he reads +them with pleasure and with profit.</p> + +<p>So thoroughly distinctive are the classes, as marked out +by the hour of the day, that very little experience would +enable the student to pronounce upon the travellers—while +so striking are the features of each class, that +“given one second-class traveller, to find out the contents +of a train,” would be the simplest problem in algebra. +As for myself, I never work the equation: the same +instinct that enabled Cuvier, when looking at a broken +molar tooth, to pronounce upon the habits, the size, the +mode of life and private opinions of some antediluvian +mammoth, enables me at a glance to say—“This is the +apothecaries’ train—here we are with the Sandycoves.”</p> + +<p>You are an early riser—some pleasant proverb about +getting a worm for breakfast, instilled into you in childhood, +doubtless inciting you: and you hasten down to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +station, just in time to be too late for the eight o’clock +train to Dublin. This is provoking; inasmuch as no +scrutiny has ever enabled any traveller to pry into the +habits and peculiarities of the early voyager. Well, you +lounge about till the half-after, and then the <i>conveniency</i> +snorts by, whisks round at the end, takes a breathing +canter alone for a few hundred yards, and comes back +with a grunt, to resume its old drudgery. A general +scramble for places ensues—doors bang—windows are +shut and opened—a bell rings—and, snort! snort! ugh, +ugh, away you go. Now—would you believe it?—every +man about you, whatever be his age, his size, his features, +or complexion, has a little dirty blue bag upon his knees, +filled with something. They all know each other—grin, +smile, smirk, but don’t shake hands—a polite reciprocity—as +they are none of the cleanest: cut little dry jokes +about places and people unknown, and mix strange phrases +here and there through the dialogue, about “<i>demurrers</i> +and <i>declarations</i>, traversing <i>in prox</i> and <i>quo warranto</i>.” +You perceive it at once—it is very dreadful; but they +are all attorneys. The ways of Providence are, however, +inscrutable; and you arrive in safety in Dublin.</p> + +<p>Now, I am not about to take you back; for at this hour +of the morning you have nothing to reward your curiosity. +But, with your leave, we’ll start from Kingstown again +at nine. Here comes a fresh, jovial-looking set of fellows. +They have bushy whiskers, and geraniums in the button-hole +of their coats. They are traders of various sorts—men +of sugar, soap, and sassafras—Macintoshes, molasses, +mouse-traps—train-oil and tabinets. They have, however, +half an acre of agricultural absurdity, divided into +meadow and tillage, near the harbour, and they talk<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +bucolic all the way. Blindfold them all, and set them +loose, and you will catch them groping their way down +Dame-street in half an hour.</p> + +<p>9½.—The housekeepers’ train. Fat, middle-aged women, +with cotton umbrellas—black stockings with blue <i>fuz</i> on +them; meek-looking men, officiating as husbands, and an +occasional small child, in plaid and the small-pox.</p> + +<p>10.—The lawyers’ train. Fierce-looking, dictatorial, +categorical faces look out of the window at the weather, +with the stern glance they are accustomed to bestow on +the jury, and stare at the sun in the face, as though to +say—“None of your prevarication with <i>me</i>; answer me, +on your oath, is it to rain or not?”</p> + +<p>10½.—The return of the doctors. They have been out +on a morning beat, and are going home merry or mournful, +as the case may be. Generally the former, as the sad +ones take to the third class. These are jocose, droll dogs; +the restraint of physic over, they unbend, and chat pleasantly, +unless there happen to be a sickly gentleman +present, when the instinct of the craft is too strong for +them; and they talk of their wonderful cures of Mr. +Popkins’s knee, or Mr. Murphy’s elbow, in a manner very +edifying.</p> + +<p>11.—The men of wit and pleasure. These are, I +confess, difficult of detection; but the external signs are +very flash waistcoats, and guard-chains, black canes, black +whiskers, and strong Dublin accents. A stray governess +or two will be found in this train. They travel in pairs, +and speak a singular tongue, which a native of Paris +might suppose to be Irish.</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_THE_DOCTORS" id="A_NUT_FOR_THE_DOCTORS"></a>A NUT FOR THE DOCTORS.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo154.jpg" width="200" height="184" alt="S" title="S" /> +</div> + + +<p style="text-indent: 0em"><span class="smcap">hould</span> you ask, Who is the +greatest tyrant of modern +days? Mr. O’Connell will +tell you—Nicholas, or Espartero. +An Irish Whig +member will reply, Dan +himself. An <i>attaché</i> at an +embassy would say, Lord +Palmerston,—“’Tis Cupid +ever makes us slaves!” A French <i>deputé</i> of the Thiers +party will swear it is Louis Philippe. Count D’Orsay +will say, his tailor. But I will tell you it is none of +these: the most pitiless autocrat of the nineteenth +century is—the President of the College of Physicians.</p> + +<p>Of all the unlimited powers possessed by irresponsible +man, I know of nothing at all equal to his, who, <i>mero +motu</i>, of his own free will and caprice, can at any moment +call a meeting of the dread body at whose head he stands, +assemble the highest dignitaries of the land—archbishops +and bishops, chancellors, chief barons, and chief remembrancers—to +listen to the minute anatomy of a periwinkle’s +mustachios, or some singular provision in the physiology +of a crab’s breeches-pocket: all of whom, <i>luto non obstante</i>, +must leave their peaceful homes and warm hearths to +“assist” at a meeting in which, nine cases out of ten, +they take as much interest as a Laplander does in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +health of the Grand Lama; or Mehemet Ali in the proceedings +of Father Mathew.</p> + +<p>By nine o’clock the curtain rises, displaying a goodly +mob of medical celebrities: the old ones characterised by +the astute look and searching glance, long and shrewd +practice in the world’s little failings ever confers; the +young ones, anxious, wide awake, and fidgetty, not quite +satisfied with what services they may be called on to +render in candle-snuffing and crucible work; while between +both is your transition M.D.—your medical tadpole, +with some practice and more pretension, his game being +to separate from the great unfeed, and rub his shoulders +among the “dons” of the art, from whose rich board +certain crumbs are ever falling, in the shape of country +jaunts, small operations, and smaller consultings. Through +these promiscuously walk the “<i>gros bonnets</i>” of the church +and the bar, with now and then—if the scene be Ireland—a +humane Viceroy, and a sleepy commander of the forces. +Round the room are glass cases filled with what at first +blush you might be tempted to believe were the <i>ci-devant</i> +professors of the college, embalmed, or in spirits; but on +nearer inspection you detect to be a legion of apes, +monkeys, and ourangoutangs, standing or sitting in grotesque +attitudes. Among them, pleasingly diversified, you +discover murderers’ heads, parricides’ busts in plaster, +bicephalous babies, and shapeless monsters with two rows +of teeth. Here you are regaled with refreshments “with +what appetite you may,” and chat away the time, until the +tinkle of a small bell announces the approach of the lecture.</p> + +<p>For the most part, this is a good, drowsy, sleep-disposing +affair of an hour long, written to show, that from some +peculiarity lately discovered in the cerebral vessels, man’s<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +natural attitude was to stand on his head; or that, from +chemical analysis just invented, it was clear, if we live to +the age of four hundred years and upwards, part of our +duodenum will be coated with a delicate aponeurosis of +sheet iron.</p> + +<p>Now, with propositions of this kind I never find fault. +I am satisfied to play my part as a biped in this breathing +world, and to go out of it too, without any rivalry with +Methuselah. But I’ll tell you with what I am by +no means satisfied,—nor shall I ever feel satisfied—nor +do I entertain any sentiment within a thousand +miles of gratitude to the man who tells me, that food—beef +and mutton, veal, lamb, &c.—are nothing but +gas and glue. The wretch who found out the animalculæ +in clean water was bad enough. There are simple-minded +people who actually take this as a beverage: what +must be their feelings now, if they reflect on the myriads +of small things like lobsters; with claws and tails, all +fighting and swallowing each other, that are disporting in +their stomachs? But only think of him who converts +your cutlet into charcoal, and your steak into starch! It +may stick to your ribs after that, to be sure; but will it +not stick harder to your conscience? With what pleasure +do you help yourself to your haunch, when the conviction +is staring you in the face, that what seems venison is but +adipose matter and azote? That you are only making a +great Nassau balloon of yourself when you are dreaming +of hard condition, and preparing yourself for the fossil +state when blowing the froth off your porter.</p> + +<p>Of latter years the great object of science would appear +to be an earnest desire to disenchant us from all the +agreeable and pleasant dreams we have formed of life, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +to make man insignificant without making him humble. +Thus, one class of philosophers labour hard to prove that +manhood is but monkeyhood—that a slight adaptation of +the tail to the customs of civilized life has enabled us to +be seated; while the invention of looking-glasses, bear’s +grease, cold cream, and macassar, have cultivated our +looks into the present fashion.</p> + +<p>Another, having felt over our skulls, gravely asserts, +“There is a <i>vis à tergo</i> of wickedness implanted in us, +that must find vent in murder and bloodshed.” While +the magnetic folk would make us believe that we are +merely a kind of ambulating electric-machine, to be +charged at will by the first M. Lafontaine we meet with, +and mayhap explode from over-pressure.</p> + +<p>While such liberties are taken with us without, the +case is worse within. Our circulation is a hydraulic +problem; our stomach is a mill—a brewing vat—a tanner’s +yard—a crucible, or a retort. You yourself, in all +the resplendent glory of your braided frock, and your +decoration of the Guelph, are nothing but an aggregate of +mechanical and chemical inventions, as often going wrong +as right; and your wife, in the pride of her Parisian +bonnet, and robe <i>à la Victorine</i>, is only gelatine and +adipose substance, phosphate of lime, and a little arsenic.</p> + +<p>Now, let me ask, what remains to us of life, if we are +to be robbed of every fascination and charm of existence +in this fashion? And again—has medical science so +exhausted all the details of practical benefit to mankind, +that it is justified in these far-west explorations into the +realms of soaring fancy, or the gloomy depths of chemical +analysis? Hydrophobia, consumption, and tetanus are +not so curable that we can afford to waste our sympathies<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +on chimpanzees: nor is this world so pleasant that we +must deny ourselves the advantage of all its illusions, and +throw away the garment in which Nature has clothed her +nakedness. No, no. There was sound philosophy in +Peter, in the “Tale of a Tub,” who assured his guests that +whatever their frail senses might think to the contrary, +the hard crusts were excellent and tender mutton; but I +see neither rhyme nor reason in convincing us, that amid +all the triumphs of turtle and white bait, Ardennes ham +and <i>pâté de Strasbourg</i>, our food is merely coke and glue, +roach, lime, starch, and magnesia.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo158.jpg" width="200" height="191" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_THE_ARCHITECTS" id="A_NUT_FOR_THE_ARCHITECTS"></a>A NUT FOR THE ARCHITECTS.</h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">God</span> made the country,” said the poet: but in my +heart I believe he might have added—“The devil made +architects.” Few cities—I scarcely know of one—can +boast of such environs as Dublin. The scenery, diversified +in its character, possesses attraction for almost every +taste: the woody glade—the romantic river—the wild +and barren mountain—the cultivated valley—the waving<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +upland—the bold and rocky coast, broken with promontory +and island—are all to be found, even within a few +miles of the capital; while, in addition, the nature of our +climate confers a verdure and a freshness unequalled, +imparting a depth and colour to the landscape equal to the +beauty of its outline.</p> + +<p>Whether you travel inland or coastwise, the country +presents a succession of sites for building, there being no +style of house for which a suitable spot cannot readily be +found; and yet, with all this, the perverse taste of man +has contrived, by incongruous and ill-conceived architecture, +to mar almost every point of view, and destroy +every picturesque feature of the landscape.</p> + +<p>The liberty of the subject is a bright and glorious prerogative; +and nowhere should its exercise be more freely +conceded than in those arrangements an individual makes +for his own domestic comfort, and the happiness of his home.</p> + +<p>That one man likes a room in which three people form +a crowd, and that another prefers an apartment spacious +as Exeter Hall, is a matter of individual taste, with which +the world has nothing whatever to do. Your neighbour +in the valley may like a cottage not larger than a sugar-hogshead, +with rats for company and beetles for bed-fellows; +your friend on the hill-side may build himself +an imaginary castle, with armour for furniture, and antique +weapons for ornaments;—with all this you have no concern—no +more than with his banker’s book, or the +thoughts of his bosom: but should the one or the other, +either by a thing like a piggery, or an incongruous mass +like a jail, destroy all the beauty and mar all the effect of +the scenery for miles round, far beyond the precincts of +his own small tenure—should he outrage all the principles<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +of taste, and violate every sentiment of landscape beauty, +by some poor and contemptible, or some pretentious and +vulgar edifice—then, do I say, you are really aggrieved; +and against such a man you have a just and equitable +complaint, as one interfering with the natural pleasures +and just enjoyments to which, as a free citizen of a free +state, you have an indubitable, undeniable right.</p> + +<p>That waving, undulating meadow, hemmed in with its +dark woods, and mirrored in the fair stream that flows +peacefully beneath it, was never, surely, intended to be +disfigured with a square house like a salt-box, and a +verandah like a register-grate: the far-stretching line of +yellow coast that you see yonder, where the calm sea +is sleeping, land-locked by those jutting headlands, was +never meant to be pock-marked with those vile bathing +lodges, with green baize draperies drying before them.</p> + +<p>Was that bold and granite-sided mountain made thus to +be hewed out into parterres for polyanthuses, and stable-lanes +for Cockneys’ carmen?—or is the margin of our +glorious bay, the deep frame-work of the bright picture, +to be carved into little terraces, with some half-dozen +slated cabins, or a row of stiff-looking, Leeson-street-like +houses, with brass knockers and a balcony? Forbid it, +heaven! We have a board of wide and inconvenient +streets, who watch over all the irregularities of municipal +architecture, and a man is no more permitted to violate +the laws of good taste, than he is suffered to transgress +those of good morals. Why not have a similar body to +protect the fairer part of the created globe? Is Pill-lane +more sacred than Bray-head? Has Copper-alley stronger +claims than the Glen-of-the-Downs? Is the Cross-poddle +more classic ground than Poolaphuca?</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_A_NEW_COLONY" id="A_NUT_FOR_A_NEW_COLONY"></a>A NUT FOR A NEW COLONY.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">If</span> you happen to pass by Dodd’s auction-room, on any +Wednesday, towards the hour of three in the afternoon, +the chances are about seven to one that you hear a sharp, +smart voice articulating, somewhat in this fashion:—“A +very handsome tea-service, ladies. What shall I say for +this remarkably neat pattern? One tea-pot, one sugar-bowl, +one slop-basin, and twelve cups and saucers.—Show +them round, Tim,” &c.</p> + +<p>Now it is with no intention of directing the public eye +to the “willow pattern,” that I have alluded to this circumstance. +It is simply, because that thereby hangs an +association, and I have never heard the eloquent expatiator +on china, without thinking of the Belgian navy, which +consists of—“One gun-boat, one pinnace, one pilot, one +commodore, and twelve little sailors.” Unquestionably, +there never was a cheaper piece of national extravagance +than this, nor do I believe that any public functionary +enjoys a more tranquil and undisturbed existence than the +worthy “<i>ministre de la marine</i>,” whose duty it is to preside +over the fleet I have mentioned. Once, and once only +do I remember that his quiet life was shaken by the rude +assault of political events: it was when the imposing +force under his sway undertook a voyage of discovery +some miles down the Scheldt, which they did alike to the +surprise and admiration of the whole land.</p> + +<p>After a day’s peaceful drifting with the river’s current, +they reached the fort of Lillo, where, <i>more majorum</i>, as +night was falling, they prudently dropped anchor, having<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +a due sense of the danger that might accrue “from running +down a continent in the dark.” There was, besides, +a feeling of high-souled pride in anchoring within sight, +under the guns, as it were, of the Dutch fort—the insolent +Dutch, whom they, with some aid from France—as the +Irishman said of his marriage, for love, and a trifle of +money—had driven from their country; and, although +the fog rendered everything invisible, and the guns were +spiked, still the act of courage was not disparaged; and +they fell to, and sang the Brabançon, and drank Flemish +beer till bed-time.</p> + +<p>Happy and patriotic souls! little did you know, that +amid your dreams of national greatness, some half-dozen +imps of Dutch middies were painting out the magnificent +tricolor streaks that adorned your good craft, and making +the whole one mass of dirty black.</p> + +<p>Such was the case, however; and when day broke, those +brilliant emblems of Belgian independence had vanished, +and in their place a murky line of pitch now stood.</p> + +<p>Homeward they bent their course, sadder and wiser +men; and, to their credit be it spoken, having told their +sorrows to their sage minister, they have lived a life of +happy retirement, and never strayed beyond the peaceful +limits of the Antwerp basin.</p> + +<p>Far be from me the unworthy object of drawing +before the public gaze the blissful and unpretending +service, that shuns the noontide glitter of the world’s +applause, and better loves the quiet solitude of their +own unobtrusive waters; and had they thus remained, +nothing would have tempted me to draw them from their +obscurity. But alas! national ambition has visited even +the seclusion of this service. Not content with coasting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +voyages, some twelve miles down their muddy river—not +satisfied with lording it over fishing smacks and herring +wherries, this great people have resolved on becoming a +maritime power in blue water, and running a race of +rivalry with England, France, and Russia; and to it they +have set in right earnest.</p> + +<p>They began by purchasing a steam-vessel, which +happens to turn out on such a scale of size, as to be +inadmissible into any harbour they possess. By dint of +labour, time, cost, and great outlay, they succeeded, after +four months, in getting her into dock. But alas! if it +took that time to admit her, it takes six months to let her +out again; and, when out, what are they to do with her?</p> + +<p>When Admiral Dalrymple turned farmer, he mentions +in one of his letters, the sufferings his unhappy ignorance +of all agricultural pursuits involved him in, and feelingly +tells us: “I have given ten pounds for a dunghill, and +would now willingly give any man twenty, to tell me +what to do with it.” This was exactly the case with the +Belgians. They had bought a steam-ship, they put coals +in her, and a crew; and then, for the life and soul of +them, they did not know what to do with them.</p> + +<p>They desired an export trade—a <i>débouché</i> for their +Namur cutlery and Verviers’ frieze. But where could they +go? They had no colonies. Holland had, to be sure: +but then, they had quarrelled with Holland, and there +was no use repining. “What can’t be cured,” &c. +Besides, if they had lost a colony, they had gained a +cardinal; and if they had no merchantmen, they had at +least high-mass; and if they were excluded from Batavia, +why they had free access to the “Abbé Boon.”</p> + +<p>There were, however, some impracticable people engaged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +in traffic, who would not listen to these great +advantages, and who were obstinate enough to suppose +that the country was as prosperous when it had a market +for its productions, as it was when it had none. And +although the priests, who have multiplied some hundredfold +since the revolution, were willing “to consume” to +any extent, yet, unhappily, they were not as profitable +customers as their <i>ci-devant</i> friends beyond sea.</p> + +<p>Nothing then remained but to have a colony, and after +much consideration, long thought, and anxious deliberation, +it was announced to the chamber that the Belgians +had a colony, and that the colony was called “Guatemala.”</p> + +<p>When Sancho Panza appealed to Don Quixote, to +realise his promised dream of greatness, you may remember, +he always asked for an island: “Make me governor +of an island!” There was something defined, accurate, +and tangible, as it were, in the sea-girt possession, that +suggested to the honest squire’s mind the idea of perfect, +independent rule. And in the same way, the Belgians +desired to have an island.</p> + +<p>Some few, less imaginative, suspected, however, that an +island must always have its limit to importation quicker +attained than a continent, and they preferred some vast, +unexplored tract, like India, or Central America, where +the consumption of corduroy and cast-iron might have an +unexhausted traffic for centuries.</p> + +<p>Now, it is a difficult condition to find out that spot on +a map which should realise both expectations. Happily, +however, M. Van de Weyer had to deal with a kind and +confiding people, whose knowledge of geography is about +equal to a blind man’s appreciation of scarlet or sky-blue. +Not only, therefore, did he represent to one party, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +newly-acquired possession as an island, and to the other +as a vast continent, but he actually shifted its <i>locale</i> about +the globe, from the tropics to the north-pole, with such +admirable dexterity, that not only is all cavil silenced +about its commercial advantages, but its very climate has an +advocate in every taste, and an admirer in every household. +Steam-engines, therefore, are fabricated; cannon are cast; +railroads are in preparation; broadcloth is weaving; flax +is growing; lace is in progress, all through the kingdom, +for the new colony of Guatemala,—whose only inhabitants +are little grateful for the profound solicitude they are exciting, +inasmuch as, being but rats and sea-gulls, their +modes of living and thinking give them a happy indifference +about steam-travelling, and the use of fine linen.</p> + +<p>No matter;—the country is prospering—shares are +rising—speculations are rife—loans are effected every day +in the week, and M. Van de Weyer sleeps in the peaceful +composure of a man who knows in his heart, that even if +they get their unwieldy craft to sea, there is not a man +in the kingdom who could, by any ingenuity, discover the +whereabout of the far-famed Guatemala.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo165.jpg" width="200" height="209" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<h2><a name="A_SWEET_NUT_FOR_THE_YANKEES" id="A_SWEET_NUT_FOR_THE_YANKEES"></a>A “SWEET” NUT FOR THE YANKEES.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Chesterfield</span> once remarked that a thoroughly +vulgar man could not speak the most common-place word, +nor perform the most ordinary act, without imparting to +the one and the other a portion of his own inborn vulgarity. +And exactly so is it with the Yankees; not a +question can arise, no matter how great its importance, +nor how trivial its bearings, upon which, the moment they +express an opinion, they do not completely invest with +their own native coarseness, insolence, and vulgarity. +The boundary question was made a matter of violent +invective and ruffian abuse; the right of search was +treated with the same powers of ribaldry towards England; +and now we have these amiable and enlightened citizens +defending the wholesale piracy of British authors, not on +the plausible but unjust pretext of the benefit to be derived +from an extended acquaintance with English literature; +but, only conceive! because, if “English authors were +invested with any control over the republication of their +own books, it would be no longer possible for American +editors to alter and adapt them as they do now to the +American taste.” However incredible this may seem, +the passage formed part of a document actually submitted +to congress, and favourably received by that body. This +is not the place for me to dwell on the unprincipled +usurpation by which men who have contributed nothing +to the production of a work, assume the power of reaping +its benefits, and profiting by its success. The wholesale +robbery of English authors has been of late well and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +ably exposed. The gifted and accomplished author of +“Darnley” and “The Gipsy” has devoted his time and +his talents to the subject; and although the world at large +have few sympathies with the wrongs of those who live +to please them, yet the day is not distant when the rights +of a large and influential body, who stamp the age with +the image of their own minds, can be no longer neglected, +and the security of literary property must become at least +as great as of mining scrip, or the shares in a railroad.</p> + +<p>My present business is with the Yankee declaration, +that English authors to be readable in America must be +passed through the ordeal of re-writing. I scarcely think +that the annals of impertinence and ignorance could equal +this. What! is it seriously meant that Scott and Byron, +Wordsworth, Southey, Rogers, Bulwer, James, Dickens, +and a host of others, must be converted into the garbage +of St. Giles, or the fœtid slang of Wapping, before they +can pass muster before an American public? Must the +book reek of “gin twist,” “cock tail,” and fifty other +abominations, ere it reach an American drawing-room? +Must the “bowie-knife and the whittling-stick” mark its +pages; and the coarse jest of some tobacco-chewing, wild-cat-whipping +penny-a-liner disfigure and sully the passages +impressed with the glowing brilliancy of Scott, or the +impetuous torrent of Byron’s genius? Is this a true +picture of America? Is her reading public indeed +degraded to this pass? I certainly have few sympathies +with brother Jonathan. I like not his spirit of boastful +insolence, his rude speech, or his uncultivated habits; +but I confess I am unwilling to credit this. I hesitate to +believe in such an amount of intellectual depravity as can +turn from the cultivated writings of Scott and Bulwer to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +revel in the coarseness and vulgarity of a Yankee editor, +vamping up his stolen wares with oaths from the far west, +or vapid jests from life in the Prairies. Again, what shall +I say of those who follow this traffic? Is it not enough +to steal that which is not theirs, to possess themselves of +what they have no right or claim to? Must they mangle +the corpse when they have extinguished life? Must they, +while they cheat the author of his gain, rob him also of his +fair fame? “He who steals my purse steals trash,” but +how shall I characterise that extent of baseness that dares +to step in between an author and his reputation—inserting +between him and posterity their own illiterate degeneracy +and insufferable stupidity?</p> + +<p>Would not the ghost of Sir Walter shudder in his grave +at the thought of the fair creations of his mind—Jeanie +Deans and Rebecca—Yankeefied into women of Long +Island, or damsels from Connecticut? Is Childe Harold +to be a Kentucky-man? and are the vivid pictures of life +Bulwer’s novels abound in, to be converted into the prison-discipline +school of manners, that prevail in New York +and Boston, where, as Hamilton remarks, “the men are +about as like gentlemen, as are our new police?” What +should we say of the person who having stolen a Rembrandt +or a Vandyke from its owner, would seek to +legalise his theft by daubing over the picture with his +own colours—obliterating every trace of the great master, +and exulting that every stroke of his brush defaced some +touch of genius, and that beneath the savage vandalism +of his act, every lineament of the artist was obliterated? +I ask you, would not mere robbery be a virtue beside +such a deed as this? Who could compare the sinful +promptings to which want and starvation give birth to, to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +the ruffian profligacy of such barbarity? And now, when +I tell you, that not content with this, not satisfied to +desecrate the work, the wretch goes a step farther and +stabs its author—what shall I say of him now, who, when +he had defaced the picture, marred every effect, distorted +all drawing, and rendered the whole a chaotic mass of +indistinguishable nonsense, goes forth to the world, and +announces, “This is a Rembrandt, this is a Vandyke: +ay, look at it and wonder: but with all its faults, and all +its demerits, it is cried up above our native artists; it has +got the seal of the old world’s approval upon it, and in +vain we of younger origin shall dare to dissent from its +judgments.” Now, once more, I say, can you show the +equal of this moral turpitude? and such I pledge myself +is the conduct of your transatlantic pirates with respect +to British literature. Mr. Dickens, no mean authority, +asserts that in the same sheet in which they boast the +sale of many thousand copies of an English reprint, they +coarsely attack the author of that very book, and heap +scurrility and slander on his head.</p> + +<p>Yes, such is the fact; not satisfied with robbery, they +murder reputation also. And then we find them expatiating +in most moving terms over the superiority of their +own neglected genius!</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_THE_SEASON_JULLIENS" id="A_NUT_FOR_THE_SEASON_JULLIENS"></a>A NUT FOR THE SEASON—JULLIEN’S +QUADRILLES.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo170.jpg" width="200" height="214" alt="A" title="A" /> +</div> + + +<p style="text-indent: 0em"><span class="smcap">very</span> curious paper might be +made by any one who, after +an absence of some years from +Ireland, should chronicle his +new impressions of the country, +and compare them with +his old ones. The changes +time works everywhere, even +in a brief space, are remarkable, +but particularly so in a +land where everything is in a state of transition—where +the violence with which all subjects are treated, the +excited tone people are wont to assume on every topic, +are continually producing their effects on society—dismembering +old alliances—begetting new combinations. +Such is the case with us here; and every year evidences +by the strange anomalies it presents in politics, parties, +public feeling, and private habits, how little chance +there is for a prophet to make a character by his predictions +regarding Ireland. He would, indeed, be a +skilful chemist who would attempt the analysis of our +complex nature; but far greater and more gifted must he +be, who, from any consideration of the elements, would +venture to pronounce on the probable results of their +action and re-action, and declare what we shall be some +twenty years hence.</p> + +<p>Oh, for a good Irish “Rip van Winkle,” who would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +at least let us look on the two pictures—what we were, +and what we are. He should be a Clare man—none +others have the same shrewd insight into character, the +same intuitive knowledge of life; none others detect, like +them, the flaws and fractures in human nature. There +may be more mathematical genius in Cork, and more +classic lore in Kerry; there may be, I know there is, +a more astute and patient pains-taking spirit of calculation +in the northern counties; but for the man who is +only to have one rapid glance at the game, and say how it +fares—to throw a quick <i>coup-d’œil</i> on the board, and +declare the winner, Clare for ever!</p> + +<p>Were I a lawgiver, I would admit any attorney to +practise who should produce sufficient evidence of his +having served half the usual time of apprenticeship in +Ennis. The Pontine marshes are not so prolific of fever, +as the air of that country of ready-witted intelligence and +smartness; and now, ere I return from my digression, let +me solemnly declare, that, for the opinion here expressed, +I have not received any money or moneys, nor do I expect +to receive such, or any place, pension, or other reward, +from Tom Steele or any one else concerned.</p> + +<p>Well, we have not got this same western “Rip van +Winkle,” nor do I think we are likely to do so, for this +simple reason, that if he were a Clare man, he’d never +have been caught “napping;” so, now, let us look about +us and see if, on the very surface of events, we shall not +find something to our purpose. But where to begin, that’s +the question: no clue is left to the absentee of a few years +by which to guide his path. He may look in vain even +for the old landmarks which he remembered in boyhood; +for somehow he finds them all in masquerade.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +The goodly King William he had left in all the effulgence +of his Orange livery, is now a cross between a river-god +and one of Dan’s footmen. Let him turn to the Mansion-house +to revive his memory of the glorious hip, hip, +hurra’s he has shouted in the exuberance of his loyalty, +and straightway he comes plump against Lord Mayor +O’Connell, proceeding in state to Marlborough-street +chapel. He asks who are these plump gentlemen with +light blue silk collars, and well-rounded calves, whose +haughty bearing seems to awe the beholders, and he is +told that he knew them of old, as wearing dusky black +coats and leather shorts; pleasant fellows in those days, +and well versed in punch and polemics. The hackney-coaches +have been cut down into covered cars, and the +“bulky” watchmen reduced to new police. Let him +turn which way he will—let it be his pleasure to hear +the popular preacher, the eloquent lawyer, or the scientific +lecturer, and if his memory be only as accurate as +his hearing, he will confess “time’s changes;” and when +he learns who are deemed the fashionable entertainers of +the day—at whose boards sit lords and baronets most +frequently, he will exclaim with the poet—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Pritchard’s genteel, and Garrick’s six feet high.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Well, well, it’s bad philosophy, and bad temper, too, +to quarrel with what is; nowhere is the wisdom of Providence +more seen than in the universal law, by which +everything has its place somewhere; the gnarled and +bent sapling that would be rejected by the builder, is +exactly the piece adapted for the knee timber of a frigate; +the jagged, ill-formed rock that would ill suit the polished +portico, is invaluable in a rustic arch; and, perhaps, on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> +the same principle, dull lawyers make excellent judges, +and the people who cannot speak within the limits of +Lindley Murray, are admirable public writers and excellent +critics; and as Doctor Pangloss was a good man +“because he knew what wickedness was,” so nothing +contributes to the detection of faults in others, like the +daily practice of their commission by ourselves; and +never can any man predict failure to another with such +eloquence and impressiveness, as when he himself has +experienced what it is to “be damned.”</p> + +<p>Here I am in another digression, and sorry am I not to +follow it out further; but for the present I must not—so +now, to try back: I will suppose my absentee friend to +have passed his “day in town,” amazed and surprised +at the various changes about him; I will not bewilder +him with any glance at our politics, nor puzzle him with +that game of cross corners by which every one seems to +have changed his place; nor attempt any explanation of +the mysterious doctrine by which the party which affects +the strongest attachment to the sovereign should exult in +any defeat to her armies; nor how the supporters of the +government contribute to its stability, by rabid attacks on +its members, and absurd comparisons of their own fitness +for affairs, with the heads of our best and wisest. These +things he must have remembered long ago, and with +respect to them, we are pretty much as we were; but +I will introduce him to an evening party—a society where +the <i>élite</i> of Dublin are assembled; where, amid the glare +of wax lights, and the more brilliant blaze of beauty, our +fairest women and most gifted and exalted men are met +together for enjoyment. At first blush there will appear +to him to have been no alteration nor change here. Even<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +the very faces he will remember are the same he saw +a dozen years ago: some pursy gentlemen with bald foreheads +or grey whiskers who danced before, are now grown +whisters; a few of the ladies, who then figured in the +quadrille, have assumed the turban, and occupy an ottoman; +the gay, laughing, light-hearted youth he formerly +hobnobbed with at supper, is become a rising barrister, +and has got up a look of learned pre-occupation, much +more imposing to his sister than to Sir Edward Sugden; +the wild, reckless collegeman, whose name was a talisman +in the “Shades,” is now a soft-voiced young physician, +vibrating in his imitation of the two great leaders in his +art, and alternately assuming the “Epic or the Lake” +school of physic. All this may amuse, but cannot amaze +him: such is the natural current of events, and he ought +to be prepared for it. The evening wears on, however; +the frigid politeness and ceremonious distance which we +have for some years back been borrowing from our neighbours, +and which seem to suit our warmer natures pretty +much as a suit of plate armour would a <i>danseuse</i> in a +ballet—this begins to wear off, and melt away before the +genial heat of Irish temperament; “the mirth and fun +grow fast and furious;” and a new dance is called for. +What, then, is the amazement, shall I say the horror, +of our friend to hear the band strike up a tune which he +only remembered as associated with everything base, low, +and disgraceful; which, in the days of his “libertine +youth,” he only heard at riotous carousals and roistering +festivals; whose every bar is associated with words—ay, +there’s the rub—which, in his maturer years, he blushes +to have listened to! he stares about him in wonderment; +for a moment he forgets that the young lady who dances<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +with such evident enjoyment of the air, is ignorant of its +history; he watches her sparkling eye and animated +gesture, without remembering that <i>she</i> knows nothing of +the associations at which her partner is, perhaps, smirking; +he sees her <i>vis-à-vis</i> exchanging looks with his friend, +that denote <i>their</i> estimation of the music; and in very +truth, so puzzled is he, he begins to distrust his senses. +The air ceases, and is succeeded by another no less known, +no less steeped in the same class of associations, and so to +the conclusion. These remembrances of past wickedness +go on “crescendo,” till the <i>finale</i> caps the whole with a +melody, to which even the restraints of society are scarcely +able to prevent a humming accompaniment of concurring +voices, and—these are the Irish Quadrilles! What can +account for this? What special pleading will find an +argument in its favour? When Wesley objected to all +the good music being given to the devil, he only excused +his adoption of certain airs which, in their popular form, +had never been connected with religious words and +feelings; and in his selection of them, was rigidly mindful +to take such only as in their character became easily convertible +to his purpose: he never enlisted those to which, +by an unhappy destiny, vulgarising and indelicate associations +have been so connected as to become inseparably +identified; and although the object is widely different, +I cannot see how, for the purposes of social enjoyment, +we should have diverged from his example. If we wished +a set of Irish quadrilles, how many good and suitable airs +had we not ready at our hands? Is not our national +music proverbially rich, and in the very character of +music that would suit us? Are there not airs in hundreds, +whose very names are linked with pleasing and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +poetic memories, admirably adapted to the purpose? +Why commit the choice, as in this case, to a foreigner +who knew nothing of them, nor of us? And why permit +him to introduce into our drawing-rooms, through the +means of a quadrille band, a class of reminiscences which +suggest levity in young men, and shame in old ones? +No, no; if the Irish quadrilles are to be fashionable, let +it be in those classic precincts where their merits are +best appreciated, and let Monsieur Jullien’s popularity +be great in Barrack-street!</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_ALL_IRELAND" id="A_NUT_FOR_ALL_IRELAND"></a>A NUT FOR “ALL IRELAND.”</h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">From</span> Carrickfergus to Cape Clear, the whole island is +on the “<i>qui vive</i>” as to whether her gracious majesty the +queen will vouchsafe to visit us in the ensuing summer. +The hospitable and magnificent reception which awaited +her in Scotland has given a more than ordinary impulse +to every plan by which we might evince our loyalty, and +exhibit ourselves to our sovereign in a point of view not +less favourable than our worthy neighbours across the sea.</p> + +<p>At first blush, nothing would seem more easy to accomplish +than this. A very cursory glance at Mr. O’Connell’s +speeches will convince any one that a land more favourably +endowed by nature, or blessed with a finer peasantry, +never existed: with features of picturesque beauty dividing +the attention of the traveller, with the fertility of the +soil; and, in fact, presenting such a panorama of loveliness, +peace, plenty, and tranquillity, that a very natural +doubt might occur to Sir Robert Peel’s mind in recommending<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +this excursion to her majesty, lest the charms +of such an Arcadia should supersede the more homely +attractions of England, and “our ladye the queene” +preferring the lodge in the Phœnix to the ancient towers +of Windsor, fix her residence amongst us, and thus at +once repeal the Union.</p> + +<p>It were difficult to say if some vision of this kind did +not float across the exalted imagination of the illustrious +Daniel, amid that shower of fortune’s favours such a visit +would inevitably bring down—baronetcies, knighthood, +deputy-lieutenancies would rain upon the land, and a +general epidemic of feasting and festivity raise every +heart in the island, and nearly break Father Mathew’s.</p> + +<p>If the Scotch be warm in their attachment, our affections +stand at a white heat; if they be enthusiastic, we +can go clean mad; and for that one bepraised individual +who boasted he would never wash the hand which had +the honour to touch that of the queen, we could produce a +round ten thousand whose loyalty, looking both ways, +would enable them, under such circumstances, to claim +superiority, as they had never washed theirs since the +hour of their birth.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding all these elements of hospitality, a +more mature consideration of the question would show +how very difficult it would be to compete successfully with +the visit to Scotland. Clanship, the remains of feudalism, +and historical associations, whose dark colours have +been brought out into glowing brightness under the magic +pencil of Scott—national costume and national customs—the +wild sports of the wilder regions—all conspired to +give a peculiar interest to this royal progress; and from +the lordly Baron of Breadalbane to the kilted Highlander<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +upon the hills, there was something of ancient splendour +and by-gone homeliness mixed up together that may well +have evoked the exclamation of our queen, who, standing +on the terrace at Drummond, and gazing on the scene +below her, uttered—“<span class="smcap">How grand!</span>”</p> + +<p>Now, unfortunately in many, if not in all these advantages, +we have no participation. Clanship is unknown +amongst us,—only one Irishman has a tail, and even that +is as ragged an appendage as need be. Our national +costume is nakedness; and of our national customs, we +may answer as the sailor did, who, being asked what he +had to say in his defence against a charge of stealing a +quadrant, sagely replied—“Your worship, it’s a damn’d +ugly business, and the less that’s said about it the better.”</p> + +<p>Two doubts press upon us—who is to receive her +Majesty; and how are they to do it? They who have large +houses generally happen to have small fortunes, and among +the few who have adequate means, there is scarcely +one who could accommodate one half of the royal suite. +In Scotland, everything worthy of being seen lies in a +ring-fence. The Highlands comprise all that is remarkable +in the country; and thus the tour of them presents a +quick succession of picturesque beauty without the interval +of even half a day’s journey devoid of interest. Now, +how many weary miles must her Majesty travel in Ireland +from one remarkable spot to another—what scenes of +misery and want must she wade through from the south +to the west. Would any charms of scenery—would any +warmth of hospitality—repay her for the anguish such +misery must inflict upon her, as her eye would range +over the wild tract of country where want and disease +seem to have fixed their dwelling, and where the only<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +edifice that rises above the mud-cabin of the way-side +presents the red brick front of a union poor-house? +These, however, are sad topics—what are we to do with +the Prince? His Royal Highness loves sporting: we have +scarcely a pheasant—we have not one capercailzie in +the island; but then we have our national pastimes. If +we cannot turn out a stag to amuse him, why we can +enlarge a tithe-proctor; and, instead of coming home +proud that he has bagged a roe, he shall exult in having +brought down a rector. How poor and insignificant +would any <i>battue</i> be in comparison with a good midnight +burning—how contemptible the pursuit of rabbits and +hares, when compared with a “tithe affray,” or the last +collision with the military in Tipperary. I have said +that the Scotch have a national costume; but if <i>semi</i>-nakedness +be a charm in them, what shall be said of us, +who go the “whole hog?” The details of their ancient +dress—their tartan, their kilt, their philabeg, that offered +so much interest to the royal suite—how shall they vie +with the million-coloured patches of an Irishman’s garment? +or what bonnet that ever flaunted in the breeze is +fit to compare with the easy jauntiness of Paddy’s +<i>caubeen</i>, through which, in lieu of a feather, a lock of his +hair is floating?</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Nor clasp nor nodding plume was there;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But for feather he wore one lock of hair.”<br /></span> +<span style="padding-left: 15em"><i>Marmion.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Then, again, how will the watch-fires that blazed upon +the mountains pale before the glare of a burning haggard; +and what cheer that ever rose from Highland throats will +vie with the wild yell of ten thousand Black-feet on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +march of a midnight marauding? No, no; it is quite +clear the Scotch have no chance with us. Her Majesty +may not have all her expectations fulfilled by a visit to +Ireland; but most assuredly a “touch of our quality” +will show her many things no near country could present, +and the probability is, she will neither have time nor +leisure for a trip to New Zealand.</p> + +<p>Everything that indicates nationality will then have its +reward. Grave dignitaries of the Church will practise +the bagpipes, and prothonotaries will refresh their jig-dancing; +whatever is Irish, will be <i>la vogue</i>; and, instead +of reading that her Majesty wore a shawl of the Gordon +tartan, manufactured at Paisley, we shall find that the +Queen appeared in a novel pattern of rags, devised at +Mud Island; while his Royal Highness will compliment +the mildness of our climate by adopting our national +dress. What a day for Ireland that will be!—we shall +indeed be “great, glorious, and free;” and if the evening +only concludes with the Irish Quadrilles, I have little +doubt that her Majesty will repeat her exclamation of +“How grand!” as she beholds the members of the +royal suite moving gracefully to the air of “Stonybatter.”</p> + +<p>Let us, then, begin in time. Let there be an order of +council to preserve all the parsons, agents, tithe-proctors, +and landlords till June; let there be no more shooting in +Tipperary for the rest of the season; let us “burke” +Father Mathew, and endeavour to make our heads for the +approaching festivities; and what between the new poor-law +and the tariff, I think we shall be by that time in as +picturesque a state of poverty as the most critical stickler +for nationality would desire.</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_A_NEW_COMPANY" id="A_NUT_FOR_A_NEW_COMPANY"></a>A NUT FOR “A NEW COMPANY.”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">By</span> no one circumstance in our social condition is a +foreigner more struck than by the fact that there is not a +want, an ailing, an incapacity for which British philanthropy +has not supplied its remedy of some sort or other. +A very cursory glance at the advertising columns of the +<i>Times</i> will be all-sufficient to establish this assertion. +Mental and bodily infirmities, pecuniary difficulties, +family afflictions, natural defects, have all their separate +<i>corps</i> of comforters; and there is no suffering condition in +life that has not a benevolent paragraph specially addressed +to its consolation. To the “afflicted with gout;” +to “all with corns and bunions;” to “the friends of a +nervous invalid”—who is, by the bye, invariably a vicious +madman; to “the childless;” to “those about to marry.” +Such are the headings of various little crumbs of comfort +by which the active philanthropy of England sustains its +reputation, and fills its pocket. From tooth-powder to +tea-trays—from spring-mattrasses to fictitious mineral +waters—from French blacking to the Widow Welch’s +Pills—all have their separate votaries; and it would be +difficult to conceive any real or imaginary want unsupplied +in this prolific age of contrivance.</p> + +<p>A gentleman might descend from the moon, like our +clever friend, “The Commissioner,” and, by a little attention +to these plausible paragraphs, become as thoroughly +John Bull in all his habits and observances as though he +were born within St. Pancras. “A widow lady with two +daughters would take a gentleman to board, where all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +the advantages and comforts of a private family might be +found, within ten minutes’ walk from Greenwich. Unexceptionable +references will be given and expected on +either side.” Here, without a moment’s delay, he might +be domiciled in an English family; here he might retire +from all the cares and troubles of life, enjoying the +tranquil pleasures of the widow’s society, with no other +risk or danger, save that of falling in love with one or +both of the fair daughters, who have “a taste for music,” +and “speak French.”</p> + +<p>It is said that few countries offer less resources to the +stranger than England; which I stoutly deny, and assert +that no land has set up so many sign-posts by which to +guide the traveller—so many directions by which to +advise his course. With us there is no risk of doing +anything inappropriate, or incompatible with your station, +if you will only suffer yourself to be borne along on the +current. Your tailor knows not only the precise shade of +colour which suits your complexion, but, as if by intuition, +he divines the exact cut that suits your condition in life. +Your coachmaker, in the same way, augurs from the tone +of your voice, and the <i>contour</i> of your features, the shade +of colour for your carriage; and should you, by any misfortune, +happen to be knighted, the Herald’s-office deduce, +from the very consonants of your name, the <i>quantum</i> of +emblazonry they can bestow on you, and from how far +back among the burglars and highwaymen of antiquity +they can venture to trace you. Should you, however, still +more unfortunately, through any ignorance of etiquette, or +any inattention to those minor forms of breeding with +which every native is conversant, offer umbrage, however +slight and unintentional, to those dread functionaries, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +“new police;” were you by chance to gaze longer into a +jeweller’s window than is deemed decorous; were you to +fall into any reverie which should induce you to slacken +your pace, perchance to hum a tune, and thus be brought +before the awful “Sir Peter,” charged by “G 743” with +having impeded the passengers—collected a crowd—being +of suspicious appearance, and having refused “to tell who +your friends were”—the odds are strongly against you +that you perform a hornpipe upon the treadmill, or be +employed in that very elegant chemical analysis, which +consists in the extraction of magnesia from oyster-shells.</p> + +<p>Now, let any man consider for a moment what a large, +interesting, and annually-increasing portion of our population +there is, who, from certain peculiarities attending +their early condition, have never been blessed with relatives +or kindred—who, having no available father and +mother, have consequently no uncles, aunts, or cousins, +nor any good friends. Here the law presses with a fearful +severity upon the suffering and the afflicted, not upon +the guilty and offending. The state has provided no possible +contingencies by which such persons are to escape. +A man can no more create a paternity than he can make +a new planet. I have already said that with wealth at +his disposal, ancestry and forefathers are easily procured. +He can have them of any age, of any country, of any +condition in life—churchmen or laymen—dignitaries of +the law or violators of it;—’tis all one, they are made to +order. But let him be in ever such urgent want of a near +relative; let it be a kind and affectionate father, an +attached and doting mother, that he stands in need of—he +may study <i>The Times</i> and <i>The Herald</i>—he may read +<i>The Chronicle</i> and <i>The Globe</i>, in vain! No benevolent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +society has directed its philanthropy in this channel; and +not even a cross-grained uncle or a penurious aunt can be +had for love or money.</p> + +<p>Now this subject presents itself in two distinct views—one +as regards its humanity, the other its expediency. +As the latter, in the year of our Lord, 1844, would seem +to offer a stronger claim on our attention, let us examine +it first. Consider them how you will, these people form +the most dangerous class of our population—these are the +“waifs and strays” of mankind. Like snags and sawyers +in the Mississippi, having no voyage to perform in +life, their whole aim and destiny seems to be the shipwreck +of others. With one end embedded in the mud of +uncertain parentage, with the other they keep bobbing +above the waves of life; but let them rise ever so high, +they feel they cannot be extricated.</p> + +<p>If rich, their happiness is crossed by their sense of +isolation; for them there are no plum-pudding festivals +at Christmas, no family goose-devourings at Michaelmas. +They have none of those hundred little ties and torments +which weary and diversify life. They have acres, but +they have no uncles—they have gardens and graperies, +but they cannot raise a grandfather—they may have a +future, but they have scarcely a present; and they have +no past.</p> + +<p>Should they be poor, their solitary state suggests recklessness +and vice. It is the restraint of early years that +begets submission to the law later on, and he who has +not learned the lesson of obedience when a child, is not +an apt scholar when he becomes a man. This, however, +is a part of the moral and humane consideration of the +question, and like most other humane considerations, involves<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +expense. With that we have nothing to do; our +present business is with the rich; for their comfort and +convenience our hint is intended, and our object to supply, +on the shortest notice, and the most reasonable terms, +such relatives of either sex as the applicant shall stand in +need of.</p> + +<p>Let there be, therefore, established a new joint stock +company to be called the “<span class="smcap">Grand United Ancestral, +Kindred, and Blood Relation Society</span>”—capital any +number of pounds sterling. Actuaries—Messrs. Oliver +Twist and Jacob Faithful.</p> + +<p>Only think of the benefits of such a company! Reflect +upon the numbers who leave their homes every morning +without parentage, and who might now possess any +amount of relatives they desire before night. Every one +knows that a respectable livelihood is made by a set of +persons whose occupation it is to become bails at the different +police offices, for any class of offence, and to any +amount. They exercise their calling somewhat like bill-brokers, +taking special pains always to secure themselves +against loss, and make a trifle of money, while displaying +an unbounded philanthropy. Here then is a class of +persons most appropriate for our purpose: fathers, uncles, +first cousins, even grandfathers, might be made out of +these at a moment’s notice. What affecting scenes, too, +might be got up at Bow-street, under such circumstances, +of penitent sons, and pardoning parents, of unforgiving +uncles and imploring nephews. How would the eloquence +of the worshipful bench revel, on such occasions, for its +display. What admonitions would it not pour forth, +what warnings, what commiseration, and what condolings. +Then what a satisfaction to the culprit to know that all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> +these things were managed by a respectable company, +who were “responsible in every case for the good conduct +of its servants.” No extortion permitted—no bribery +allowed; a regular rate of charges being printed, +which every individual was bound, like a cab-man, to +show if required.</p> + +<p>So much for a father, if respectable; so much more, if +professional; or in private life, increased premium. An +angry parent, we’ll say two and sixpence; sorrowful, +three shillings; “deeply afflicted and bound to weep,” +five shillings.</p> + +<p>A widowed mother, in good weeds, one and sixpence; +do, do, in a cab, half a crown; and so on.</p> + +<p>How many are there besides who, not actually in the +condition we speak of, would be delighted to avail themselves +of the benefits of this institution. How many +moving in the society of the west end, with a father a +tobacconist or a cheesemonger in the city, would gladly +pay well for a fashionable parent supposed to live upon +his estate in Yorkshire, or entertaining, as the <i>Morning +Post</i> has it, a “distinguished party at his shooting lodge +in the Highlands.” What a luxury, when dining his +friends at the Clarendon, to be able to talk of his “Old +Governor” hunting his hounds twice a week, while, at +the same moment, the real individual was engaged in the +manufacture of soap and short sixes. What happiness +to recommend the game-pie, when the grouse was sent by +his Uncle, while he felt that the only individual who +stood in that capacity respecting him, had three gilt balls +over his door, and was more conversant with duplicates +than double barrels.</p> + +<p>But why pursue a theme whose benefits are self-evident,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +and come home to every bosom in the vast community. +It is one of “the wants of our age,” and we +hope ere long to see the “fathers” as much respected in +Clerkenwell or College-street, as ever they were in Clongowes +or Maynooth.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo187.jpg" width="200" height="213" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px; margin-top: 1em"> +<img src="images/illo188.jpg" width="400" height="356" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2>A NUT FOR “POLITICAL ECONOMISTS.”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">This</span> is the age of political economists and their +nostrums. Every newspaper teems with projects for the +amelioration of our working classes, and the land is full +of farming societies, temperance unions, and a hundred +other Peter Purcellisms, to improve its social condition; +the charge to make us</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Great, glorious, and free,”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em">remaining with that estimable and irreproachable individual +who tumbles in Lower Abbey-street.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Frenchman’s horse would, it is said, have inevitably +finished his education, and accomplished the +faculty of existing without food, had he only survived +another twenty-four hours. Now, the condition of Ireland +is not very dissimilar, and I only hope that we may +have sufficient tenacity of life to outlive the numerous +schemes for our prosperity and advancement.</p> + +<p>Nothing, indeed, can be more singular than the manner +of every endeavour to benefit his country. We are poor—every +man of us is only struggling; therefore, we are +recommended to build expensive poorhouses, and fill them +with some of ourselves. We have scarcely wherewithal +to meet the ordinary demands of life, and straightway are +told to subscribe to various new societies—repeal funds—agricultural +clubs—O’Connell tributes—and Mathew +testimonials. This, to any short-sighted person, might +appear a very novel mode of filling our own pockets. +There are one-idea’d people in the world, who can only +take up the impression which, at first blush, any subject +suggests; they, I say, might fancy that a continued +system of donation, unattended by anything like receipt, +is not exactly the surest element of individual prosperity. +I hope to be able to controvert this plausible, but shallow +theory, and to show—and what a happy thing it is for us—to +show that, not only is our poverty the source of our +greatest prosperity, but that if by any accident we should +become rich, we must inevitably be ruined; and to +begin—</p> + +<p>Absenteeism is agreed on all hands to be the bane of +Ireland. No one, whatever be his party prejudices, will +venture to deny this. The high-principled and well-informed +country gentleman professes this opinion in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> +common with the illiterate and rabid follower of O’Connell; +I need not, therefore, insist further on a proposition +so universally acknowledged. To proceed—of all people, +none are so naturally absentees as the Irish; in fact, it +would seem that one great feature of our patriotism +consists in the desire to display, in other lands, the ardent +attachment we bear our own. How can we tell Frenchmen, +Italians, Germans, Russians, Swedes, and Swiss, +how devoted we are to the country of our birth, if we +do not go abroad to do so? How can we shed tears as +exiles, unless we become so? How can we rail about the +wrongs of Ireland and English tyranny, if we do not go +among people, who, being perfectly ignorant of both, may +chance to believe us? These are the patriotic arguments +for absenteeism; then come others, which may be classed +under the head of “expediency reasons,” such as debts, +duns, outlawries, &c. Thirdly, the temptations of the +Continent, which, to a certain class of our countrymen, +are of the very strongest description—Corn Exchange +politics, vulgar associates, an air of bully, and a voice of +brogue, will not form such obstacles to success in Paris, +as in Dublin. A man can scarcely introduce an Irish +provincialism into his French, and he would be a clever +fellow who could accomplish a bull under a twelvemonth. +These, then, form the social reasons; and from a short +revision of all three, it will be seen that they include a +very large proportion of the land—Mr. O’Connell talks of +them as seven millions.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illo191.jpg" width="400" height="430" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>It being now proved, I hope, to my reader’s satisfaction, +that the bent of an Irishman is to go abroad, let us briefly +inquire, what is it that ever prevents him so doing? The +answer is an easy one. When Paddy was told by his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> +priest that whenever he went into a public-house to +drink, his guardian angel stood weeping at the door, his +ready reply was, “that if he had a tester he’d have been +in too;” so it is exactly with absenteeism; it is only +poverty that checks it. The man with five pounds in his +pocket starts to spend it in England; make it <i>ten</i>, and he +goes to Paris; <i>fifteen</i>, and he’s up the Rhine; <i>twenty</i>, and +Constantinople is not far enough for him! Whereas, if +the sum of his wealth had been a matter of shillings, he’d +have been satisfied with a trip to Kingstown, a chop at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +Jude’s, a place in the pit, and a penny to the repeal fund; +all of which would redound to his patriotism, and the +“prosperity of Ireland.”</p> + +<p>The same line of argument applies to every feature of +expense. If we patronise “Irish manufacture,” it is +because we cannot afford English. If we like Dublin +society, it is upon the same principle; and, in fact, the +cheap pleasures of home, form the sheet-anchor of our +patriotism, and we are only “guardian angels,” because +“we haven’t a tester.”</p> + +<p>Away then with any flimsy endeavours to introduce +English capital or Scotch industry. Let us persevere in +our present habits of mutual dislike, attack, and recrimination; +let us interfere with the projects of English +civilisation, and forward, by every means in our power, +the enlightened doctrines of popery, and the patriotic +pastime of parson-shooting, for even in sporting we dispense +with a “game license;” let no influx of wealth +offer to us the seduction of quitting home, and never let +us feel with our national poet that “Ireland is a beautiful +country to live out of.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo192.jpg" width="200" height="191" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_GRAND_DUKES" id="A_NUT_FOR_GRAND_DUKES"></a>A NUT FOR “GRAND DUKES.”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo193.jpg" width="200" height="219" alt="G" title="G" /> +</div> + + +<p style="text-indent: 0em"><span class="smcap">od</span> help me but I have always +looked upon a “grand duke” +pretty much in the same +light that I have regarded the +“Great Lama,” that is to +say, a very singular and curious +object of worship in its +native country. How any +thing totally destitute of +sovereign attributes could +ever be an idol, either for religious or political adoration, +is somewhat singular, and after much pains and reflections +on the subject, I came to the opinion, that German +princes were valued by their subjects pretty much on the +principle the Indians select their idols, and knowing men +admire thorough-bred Scotch terriers—viz., not their +beauty.</p> + +<p>Of all the cant this most canting age abounds in, +nothing is more repulsive and disgusting than the absurd +laudation which travellers pour forth concerning these +people, by the very ludicrous blunder of comparing a +foreign aristocracy with our own. Now, what is a +German grand duke? Picture to yourself a very corpulent, +moustached, and befrogged individual, who has a +territory about the size of the Phœnix Park, and a city as +big and as flourishing as the Blackrock; the expenses of +his civil list are defrayed by a chalybeate spring, and +the budget of his army by the license of a gambling-house,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> +and then read the following passage from “Howitt’s +Life in Germany,” which, with that admirable appreciation +of excellence so eminently their characteristic, the +newspapers have been copying this week past—</p> + +<p>“You may sometimes see a grand duke come into +a country inn, call for his glass of ale, drink it, pay for +it, and go away as unceremoniously as yourself. The +consequence of this easy familiarity is, that princes are +everywhere popular, and the daily occurrence of their +presence amongst the people, prevents that absurd crush +and stare at them, which prevails in more luxurious and +exclusive countries.”</p> + +<p>That princes do go into country inns, call for ale, and +drink it, I firmly believe; a circumstance, however, which +I put the less value upon, inasmuch as the inn is pretty +much like the prince’s own house, the ale very like what +he has at home, and the innkeeper as near as possible, in +breeding, manner, and appearance, his equal. That he +<i>pays</i> for the drink, which our author takes pains to +mention, excites all my admiration; but I confess I have +no words to express my pleasure on reading that “he +goes away again,” and, as Mr. Howitt has it, “as unceremoniously +as yourself,” neither stopping to crack the +landlord’s crown, smash the pewter, break the till, nor +even put a star in the looking-glass over the fire-place, a +condescension on his part which leads to the fact, that +“princes are everywhere popular.”</p> + +<p>Now, considering that Mr. Howitt is a Quaker, it is +somewhat remarkable the high estimate he entertains of +this “grand ducal” forbearance. What he expected his +highness to have done when he had finished his drink, I +am as much at a loss to conjecture, as what trait we are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +called upon to admire in the entire circumstance; when +the German prince went into the inn, and knocking three +times with a copper kreutzer on the counter, called for his +choppin of beer, he was exactly acting up to the ordinary +habits of his station, as when the Duke of Northumberland, +on his arriving with four carriages at the “Clarendon,” +occupied a complete suite of apartments, and +partook of a most sumptuous dinner. Neither more nor +less. His Grace of Alnwick might as well be lauded +for his ducal urbanity as the German prince for his, each +was fulfilling his destiny in his own way, and there was +not anything a whit more worthy of admiration in the +one case, than in the other.</p> + +<p>But three hundred pounds per annum, even in a cheap +country, afford few luxuries; and if the Germans are +indifferent to cholic, there might be, after all, something +praiseworthy in the beer-drinking, and here I leave it.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo195.jpg" width="200" height="214" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_THE_EAST_INDIA_DIRECTORS" id="A_NUT_FOR_THE_EAST_INDIA_DIRECTORS"></a>A NUT FOR THE EAST INDIA DIRECTORS.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo196.jpg" width="200" height="256" alt="W" title="W" /> +</div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em"><span class="smcap">hen</span> the East India Directors +recalled Lord Ellenborough, +and replaced him by Sir +Henry Harding, the impression +upon the public mind +was, as was natural it should +be, that the course of policy +adopted by the former, was +such as met not their approval, +and should not be persisted +in by his successor.</p> + +<p>To supersede one man by +another, that he might perform the very same acts in the +same way, would be something too ludicrous and absurd. +When John Bull chassées the Tories, and takes to the +Whigs, it is because he has had enough of Peel, and wants +to try a stage with Lord John, who handles the ribbons +differently, and drives another sort of a team; a piebald +set of screws they are, to be sure, but they can go the pace +when they are at it; and, as the road generally lies downhill, +they get along right merrily. But John would never +think of a change, if the pace were to be always the same. +No; he’d just put up with the set he had, and take his +chance. Not so your India Directors. They are quite +satisfied with everything; all is right, orderly, and proper; +but still they would rather that another man were at the +head of affairs, to do exactly what had been done before. +“What are you doing, Peter?”—“Nothing, sir.” “And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +you, Jem, what are you about?”—“Helping Peter, sir.” +That is precisely the case, and Sir Henry is gone out +to help Lord Ellenborough.</p> + +<p>Such a line of proceeding is doubtless singular enough, +and many sensible people there are, who cannot comprehend +the object and intention of the wise Directors; +while, by the press, severe imputations have been thrown +upon their consistency and intelligence, and some have +gone so far as to call their conduct unparalleled.</p> + +<p>This, however, is unjust. The Old Almanack, as Lord +Brougham would call it, has registered a not inapplicable +precedent; and, in the anxious hope of being remembered +by the “Old Lady,” I hasten to mention it:—</p> + +<p>When Louis XIV. grew tired of Madame la Vallière, +and desired to replace her by another in his favour, he +committed the difficult task of explanation on the subject, +to his faithful friend and confessor, Bossuet. The worthy +Bishop undertook his delicate mission with diffidence; +but he executed it with tact. The gentle La Vallière +wept bitterly; she knew nothing of the misfortune that +menaced her. She believed that her star still stood in +the ascendant, and fancied (like Lord Ellenborough) +that her blandishments were never more acknowledged. +“Whence, then, this change?” cried she, in the agony +of her grief. “How have I offended him?”</p> + +<p>“You mistake me, my daughter,” said Mons. de +Méaux. “His Majesty is most tenderly attached to +you; but religious scruples—qualms of conscience—have +come upon him. ‘C’est par la peur du diable,’ that +he consents to this separation.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/illo199.jpg" width="450" height="569" alt="Honorable Members." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Honorable Members.</span> +</div> + +<p>Poor Louise dried her tears; the case was bad enough, +but there was one consolation—it was religion, and not a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +rival, had cost her a lover; and so she began her preparations +for departure with a heart somewhat less heavy. +On the day, however, of her leave-taking, a carriage, +splashed and travel-stained, arrived at the “petite porte” +of the Palace; and as instantaneously ran the rumour +through the household that his Majesty’s new mistress +had arrived: and true it was, Madame de Maintenon had +taken her place beside the fauteuil of the King.</p> + +<p>“So, Mons. de Bossuet,” said La Vallière, as he +handed her to her carriage—“so, then, his Majesty has +exiled me, ‘par la peur du diable.’”</p> + +<p>The Bishop bowed in tacit submission and acquiescence.</p> + +<p>“In that case,” resumed she, “c’est par complaisance +au diable, that he accepts Madame de Maintenon.”</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_FILBERT_FOR_SIR_ROBERT_PEEL" id="A_FILBERT_FOR_SIR_ROBERT_PEEL"></a>A FILBERT FOR SIR ROBERT PEEL.</h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo200.jpg" width="200" height="260" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em"><span class="smcap">Sir Robert Peel</span> was +never more triumphant than +when, in the last session of +Parliament, he rebuked his +followers for a casual defection +in the support of Government, +by asking them what +they had to complain of. +Are <i>we</i> not on the Treasury +benches? said the Right +Honourable Baronet. Do not +my friend Graham and myself +guide and direct you?—do we not distribute the patronage<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +and the honours of the government,—take the pay—and +rule the kingdom—what more would you have? Ungrateful +bucolics, you know not what you want! The apostrophe +was bold, but not original. I remember hearing of a +West country farmer having ridden a long day’s journey +on a poor, ill-fed hack, which, as evening drew near, +showed many symptoms of a fatal knock-up. The rider +himself was well tired, too, and stopped at an ale-house +for a moment’s refreshment, while he left the jaded beast +standing at the door. As he remounted his saddle, a few +minutes after, he seized his reins briskly, flourished his +whip (both like Sir Robert), and exclaimed:—“I’ve had +two glasses of spirits.—Let us see if you won’t go after +that.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo201.jpg" width="200" height="146" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<h2><a name="THE_INCOME_TAX" id="THE_INCOME_TAX"></a>“THE INCOME TAX.”</h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Among</span> the many singular objections which have been +made to the new property tax, I find Mr. C. Buller stating +in the House, that his greatest dislike to the project lay +in the exceedingly small amount of the impost.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“My wound is great because it is so small,”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em">might have been the text of the honourable and learned +gentleman’s oration. After setting forth most eloquently<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +the varied distresses of the country—its accumulating +debt and heavy taxation—he turns the whole weight of +his honest indignation against the new imposition, because, +forsooth, it is so “little burdensome, and will inflict so +slight an additional load upon the tax-payer.” There is +an attempt at argument, however, on the subject, which +is somewhat amusing; for he continues not only to lament +the smallness of the new tax, but the “slight necessity that +exists” even for that. Had we some great national loss +to make up, the deficiency of which rendered a call on +the united people necessary, then, quoth he, how happily +we should stand forward in support of the Constitution. +In fact, he deplores, in the most moving terms, that ill off +as the country is, yet it is not one-half so bad as it might +be, or as he should like to see it. Ah! had we only some +disastrous Continental war, devastating our commerce—ruining +our Colonies, and eating into the very heart of our +national resources—how gladly I should pay this Income +Tax; but to remedy a curable evil—to restore, by prompt +and energetic measures, the growing disease of the State—is +a poor, pettifogging practice, that has neither heroism +nor fame to recommend it. I remember hearing that at +one of those excellent institutions, so appropriately denominated +Magdalen Asylums, a poor, but innocent girl, +presented herself for admission, pleading her lonely and +deserted condition, as a plea for her reception. The +patroness, an amiable and excellent person—but somewhat +of the complexion of the honourable and learned Member +for Liskeard—asked at once, whether she had resolved on +a total reformation of her mode of life. The other replied,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +that her habits had been always chaste and virtuous, and +that her character had been invariably above reproach. +“Ah, in that case,” rejoined the lady, “we can’t admit +you; this institution is expressly for the reception of +penitents. If you could only qualify for a week or so, +there is no objection to your admission.”</p> + +<p>Is not this exactly Mr. Buller’s proposition? “Let us +have the Whigs back for a few years longer; let us +return to our admirable foreign policy; and when we have +successfully embroiled ourselves with America, lost +Canada, been beaten in China, driven out of our Eastern +possessions, and provoked a war with France, then I’m +your man for an Income Tax; lay it on only heavily; let +the nation, already bowed down under the heavy burden +of its calamities, receive in addition the gracious boon of +enormous taxation.” Homœopathy teaches us that nothing +is so curative in its agency, as the very cause of our present +suffering, or something as analogous to it as possible; +and, like Hahnemann, Mr. Buller administers what the +vulgar call “a hair of the dog that bit us,” as the most +sovereign remedy for all our evils.</p> + +<p>The country is like a sick man with a whitlow, for the +cure of which his physician prescribes a slight, but clearly +necessary, operation. Another medical Dr. Buller is, +however, standing by. He at once insinuates his veto; +remarks upon the trivial nature of the disease—the unpainful +character of the remedy; “but wait,” adds he—“wait +till the inflammation extends higher; have patience +till the hand becomes swollen and the arm affected; and +then, when your agony is beyond endurance, and your life +endangered, then we’ll amputate the limb high up, and +mayhap you may recover, after all.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>”</p> + +<p>As for me, it is the only occasion I’m aware of, where +a successful comparison can be instituted between honour +and the Whigs; for assuredly neither have “any skill in +surgery.”</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_THE_BELGES" id="A_NUT_FOR_THE_BELGES"></a>A NUT FOR THE “BELGES.”</h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo204.jpg" width="200" height="131" alt="E" title="E" /> +</div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em"><span class="smcap">very</span> one knows that men +in masses, whether the +same be called boards, +committees, aggregate, +or repeal meetings, will +be capable of atrocities +and iniquities, to which, +as individuals, their natures would be firmly repugnant. +The irresponsibility of a number is felt by every member, +and Curran was not far wrong when he said, a “corporation +was a thing that had neither a body to be kicked, nor +a soul to be damned.”</p> + +<p>It is, indeed, a melancholy fact, that nations partake +much more frequently of the bad than the good features +of the individuals composing them, and it requires no +small amount of virtue to flavour the great caldron of +a people, and make its incense rise gratefully to heaven. +For this reason, we are ever ready to accept with enthusiasm +anything like a national tribute to high principle +and honour. Such glorious bursts are a source of pride to +human nature itself, and we hail with acclamation these +evidences of exalted feeling, which make men “come +nearer to the gods.” The greater the sacrifice to selfish<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +interests and prejudices, the more do we prize the effort. +Think for a moment what a sensation of surprise and +admiration, wonderment, awe, and approbation it would +excite throughout Europe, if, by the next arrival from +Boston, came the news that “the Americans had determined +to pay their debts!” That at some great congress +of the States, resolutions were carried to the effect, “that +roguery and cheating will occasionally lower a people in +the estimation of others, and that the indulgences of such +national practices may be, in the end, prejudicial to +national honour;” “that honesty, if not the best, may be +good policy, even in a go-a-head state of society;” “that +smart men, however a source of well-founded pride to a +people, are now and then inconvenient from the very +excess of their smartness;” “that seeing these things, +and feeling all the unhappy results which mistrust and +suspicion by foreign countries must bring upon their commerce, +they have determined to pay something in the +pound, and go a-head once more.” I am sure that such +an announcement would be hailed with illuminations from +Hamburg to Leghorn. American citizens would be cheered +wherever they were found; pumpkin pie would figure at +royal tables, and twist and cocktail be handed round with +the coffee; our exquisites would take to chewing and its +consequences; and our belles, banishing Rossini and +Donizetti, would make the air vocal with the sweet sounds +of Yankee Doodle. One cannot at a moment contemplate +what excesses our enthusiasm might not carry us to; and +I should not wonder in the least if some great publisher +of respectable standing might not start a pirated reprint of +the <i>New York Herald</i>.</p> + +<p>Let me now go back and explain, if my excitement will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +permit me, how I have been led into such extravagant +imaginings. I have already remarked, that nations seldom +gave evidence of noble bursts of feeling; still more rarely, +I regret to say, do they evince any sorrow for past misconduct—any +penitence for by-gone evil.</p> + +<p>This would be, indeed, the severest ordeal of a people’s +greatness; this, the brightest evidence of national purity. +Happy am I to say such an instance is before us; proud +am I to be the man to direct public attention to the fact. +The following paragraph I copy verbatim from the <i>Times</i>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“On the 18th of June, the anniversary of the battle of Waterloo, +a black flag was hoisted by the Belgians at the top of the monument +erected on the field where the battle was fought.”</p></div> + +<p>A black flag, the emblem of mourning, the device of +sorrow and regret, waves over the field of Waterloo! Not +placed there by vanquished France, whose legions fought +with all their chivalry; not hoisted by the proud Gaul, on +the plain where, in defeat, he bit the dust; but in penitence +of heart, in deep sorrow and contrition, by the +Belgians who ran—by the people who fled—by the soldiers +who broke their ranks and escaped in terror.</p> + +<p>What a noble self-abasement is this; how beautifully +touching such an instance of a people’s sorrow, and how +affecting to think, that while in the halls of Apsley House +the heroes were met together to commemorate the glorious +day when they so nobly sustained their country’s honour, +another nation should be in sackcloth and ashes, in all +the trappings of woe, mourning over the era of their +shame, and sorrowing over their degradation. Oh, if a +great people in all the majesty of their power, in all their +might of intellect, strength, and riches, be an object of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +solemn awe and wonder, what shall we say of one whose +virtues partake of the humble features of every-day life, +whose sacrifice is the tearful offering of their own regrets?</p> + +<p>Mr. O’Connell may declaim, and pronounce his eight +millions the finest peasantry in the world—he may extol +their virtues from Cork to Carrickfergus—he may ring +the changes over their loyalty, their bravery, and their +patriotism; but when eulogising the men who assure him +“they are ready to die for their country,” let him blush +to think of the people who can “cry” for theirs.</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_WORKHOUSE_CHAPLAINS" id="A_NUT_FOR_WORKHOUSE_CHAPLAINS"></a>A NUT FOR WORKHOUSE CHAPLAINS.</h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 180px;"> +<img src="images/illo207.jpg" width="180" height="251" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em"><span class="smcap">The</span> bane and antidote of England +is her immense manufacturing +power—the faculty that +enables her to inundate the +whole habitable globe with the +products of her industry, is at +once the source of her prosperity +and poverty—her millionnaire +mill-owners and her +impoverished thousands. Never +was the skill of machinery +pushed to the same wonderful +extent—never the results of mechanical invention so +astoundingly developed. Men are but the presiding +genii over the wonder-working slaves of their creative +powers, and the child, is the volition that gives impulse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +to the giant force of a mighty engine. Subdivision of +labour, carried to an extent almost incredible, has facilitated +despatch, and induced a higher degree of excellence +in every branch of mechanism—human ingenuity +is racked, chemical analysis investigated, mathematical +research explored—and all, that Mr. Binns, of Birmingham, +may make thirteen minikin pins—while Mr. Sims, +of Stockport, has been making but twelve. Let him but +succeed in this, and straightway his income is quadrupled—his +eldest son is member for a manufacturing borough, +his second is a cornet in the Life Guards—his daughter, +with a fortune of one hundred thousand pounds, is +married to the heir of a marquisate—and his wife, soaring +above the murky atmosphere of the factory, breathes the +purer air of western London, and advertises her <i>soirées</i> +in the <i>Morning Post</i>. The pursuit of wealth is now the +grand characteristic of our age and country; and the +headlong race of money-getting seems the great feature +of the day. To this end the thundering steamer ploughs +the white-crested wave of the broad Atlantic—to this end +the clattering locomotive darts through the air at sixty +miles the hour—for this, the thousand hammers of the +foundry, the ten thousand wheels of the factory are at +work—and man, toiling like a galley-slave, scarce takes +time to breathe in his mad career, as with straining +eyeballs and outstretched hands, he follows in the pursuit +of lucre.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illo209.jpg" width="400" height="418" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Now, men are imitative creatures; and strange enough, +too, they are oftentimes disposed from the indulgence of +the faculty to copy things, and adapt them to purposes +very foreign to their original destination. This manufacturing +speed, this steeple-chase of printed calico and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +Paisley wear, is all very well while it is limited to the +districts where it began. That two hundred and seventy +thousand white cotton night-caps, with a blue tassel on +every one of them, can be made in twenty-four hours at +Messrs. Twist and Tredlem’s factory, is a very gratifying +fact, particularly to all who indulge in ornamental head-gear—but +we see no reason for carrying this dispatch into +the Court of Chancery, and insisting that every nod of +the woolsack is to decide a suit at law. Yet have the +lawyer and the physician both adopted the impetuous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +practices of the manufacturing world, and Haste, red +haste! is now the cry.</p> + +<p>Lord Brougham’s Chancery practice was only to be +equalled by one of Lord Waterford’s steeple-chases. He +took all before him in a fly—he rode straight, plenty of +neck, baulked nothing—up leap or down leap, sunk fence +or double ditch, post and rail, or quickset, stone wall, or +clay bank, all one to him—go it he would. Others might +deny his judgment; he wanted to get over the ground, +and <i>that</i> he did do.</p> + +<p>The West-end physician, in the same way, visits his +fifty patients daily, walks his hospital, delivers a lecture +to old ladies about some “curious provision” of nature +in the palm of the human hand (for fee-taking); and +devoting something like three minutes and twelve +seconds to each sick man’s case, pockets some twenty +thousand per annum by his dispatch.</p> + +<p>Speed is now the <i>El Dorado</i>. Jelly is advertised to be +made in a minute, butter in five, soup seasoned and +salted in three seconds of time. Even the Quakers—bless +their quiet hearts!—couldn’t escape the contagion, +and actually began to walk and talk with some faint +resemblance to ordinary mortals. The church alone +maintained the even tenor of its way, and moved not +in the wild career of the whirlwind world about it. +Such was my gratulation, when my eye fell upon the +following passage of the <i>Times</i>. Need I say with +what a heavy heart I read it? It is Mr. Rushton who +speaks:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“In the month of December, 1841, he heard that a man had +been found dead in the streets of Liverpool; that all the property +he possessed had been taken from his person, and that an attempt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +to trace his identity had been made in vain. He was taken to the +usual repository for the dead, where an inquest had been held upon +him, and from the ‘dead house,’ as it was called, he was removed +to the workhouse burial-ground. The man who drove the hearse +on the occasion was very old, and not very capable of giving +evidence. His attendant was an idiot. It had been represented +to Mr. Hodgson and himself that the dead man had been taken in +the clothes in which he died and put into a coffin which was too +small for him; that a shroud was put over him; that the lid of +the coffin would not go down; and that he was taken from the +dead-house and buried in the parochial ground, no funeral rites +having been performed on the occasion. It had also been communicated +to Mr. Hodgson and himself that, after two days, the +clergyman who was instructed to perform those rites over the +paupers, came and performed one service for the dead over all the +paupers who had been buried in the intermediate time.”</p></div> + +<p>Now, without stopping to criticise the workhouse equipage, +which appears to be driven by a man too old to +speak, with an idiot for his companion; nor even to +advert to the scant ceremony of burying a man in his +daily dress, and in a coffin that would not close on him—what +shall we say of the “patent parson power” that +buries paupers in detachments, and reads the service over +platoons of dead? The reverend chaplain feeling the +uncertainty of human life, and knowing how frail is our +tie to existence, waits in the perfect conviction of a large +party before he condescends to appear. Knowing that +dead men tell no tales, he surmises also that they don’t +run away, and so he says to himself—these people are +not pressed for time, they’ll be here when I come again—it +is a sickly season, and we’ll have a field-day on +Saturday. Cheap soup for the poor, says Mrs. Fry. +Cheap justice, says O’Connell. Cheap clothing, says a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +tailor who makes new clothes from old, with a machine +called a devil—but cheap burial is the boast of the +Liverpool chaplain, and he is the most original among +them.</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_THE_HOUSE" id="A_NUT_FOR_THE_HOUSE"></a>A NUT FOR THE “HOUSE.”</h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">I have</span> long been of opinion that a man may attain to +a very respectable knowledge of Chinese ceremonies and +etiquette before he can learn one half the usages of the +honourable house. Seldom does a debate go forward +without some absurd interruption taking place in a mere +matter of form. Now it is a cry of “Order, order,” to +some gentleman who is subsequently discovered not to +have been in the least disorderly, but whom the attack +has so completely dumfounded, that he loses his speech +and his self-possession, and sits down in confusion, to be +sneered at in the morning papers, and hooted by his constituents +when he goes home.</p> + +<p>Now some gifted scion of aristocracy makes an essay +in braying and cock-crowing, both permitted by privilege, +and overwhelms the speaker with the uproar. Now it +is that intolerable nuisance, old Hume, shouting out +“divide,” or “adjourn;” or it is Colonel Sibthorpe who +counts the house. These ridiculous privileges of members +to interfere with the current of public business +because they may be sleepy or stupid themselves, are +really intolerable, besides being so numerous that the +first dozen years of a parliamentary life will scarcely +teach a man a tithe of them. But of all these “rules<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +of the house,” the most unjust and tyrannical is that +which compels a man to put up with any impertinence +because he has already spoken. It would seem as if +each honourable member “went down” with a single +ball cartridge in his pouch, which, when fired, the best +thing he could do was to go home and wait for another +distribution of ammunition; for by remaining he only +ran the risk of being riddled without any power to +return the fire.</p> + +<p>A case of this kind happened a few evenings since:—A +Mr. Blewitt—I suppose the composer—made a very +absurd motion, the object of which was to inquire +“What office the Duke of Wellington held in the present +government, and whether he was or was not a +member of the cabinet.” Without referring the learned +gentleman to a certain erudite volume called the Yearly +Almanack and Directory, Sir Robert Peel proceeded to +explain the duke’s position. He eulogised, as who would +not? his grace’s sagacity and his wisdom; the importance +of his public services, and the great value the ministers, +his <i>confrères</i>, set upon a judgment which, in a long life, +had so seldom been found mistaken; and then he concluded +by quoting from one of the duke’s recent replies +to some secretary or other who addressed him on a +matter foreign to his department—“That he was one of +the few men in the present day who did not meddle in +affairs over which they have no control.” “A piece of +counsel,” quoth Sir Robert, “I would strenuously advise +the honourable member to apply to his own case.”</p> + +<p>Now we have already said that we think Blewitt—though +an admirable musician—seems to be a very silly +man. Still, if he really did not know what the duke<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +represented in her Majesty’s government—if he really +were ignorant of what functions he exercised, the information +might have been bestowed upon him without a +retort like this. In the first place, his query, if a foolish, +was at least a civil one; and in the second, it was his duty +to understand a matter of this nature: it therefore came +under his control, and Sir Robert’s application of the +quotation was perfectly uncalled-for. Well; what followed? +Mr. Blewitt rose in wrath to reply, when the +house called out, “Spoke, spoke!” and Blewitt was +muzzled; the moral of which is simply this—you ask a +question in the house, and the individual addressed has a +right to insult you, you having no power of rejoinder, +under the etiquette of “spoke.” Any flippancy may +overturn a man at this rate; and the words “loud +laughter,” printed in italics in the <i>Chronicle</i>, is sure to +renew the emotion at every breakfast table the morning +after.</p> + +<p>Now I am sorry for Blewitt, and think he was badly +treated.</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_LAW_REFORM" id="A_NUT_FOR_LAW_REFORM"></a>A NUT FOR “LAW REFORM.”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 180px;"> +<img src="images/illo215.jpg" width="180" height="230" alt="O" title="O" /> +</div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em"><span class="smcap">f</span> all the institutions of England +there is scarcely one more +lauded, and more misunderstood, +than trial by jury. At +first blush, nothing can seem +fairer and less objectionable +than the unbiassed decision +of twelve honest men, sworn +to do justice. They hear +patiently the evidence on +both sides; and in addition +to the light derivable from +their own intelligence, they have the directing charge of +the judge, who tells them wherein the question for their +decision lies, what are the circumstances of which they +are to take cognizance, and by what features of the case +their verdict is to be guided. Yet look at the working +of this much-boasted privilege. One jury brings in a +verdict so contrary to all reason and justice, that they +are sent back to reconsider it by the judge; another, +more refractory still, won’t come to any decision at all, +and get carted to the verge of the county for their pains; +and a third, improving on all former modes of proceeding, +has adopted a newer and certainly most impartial manner +of deciding a legal question. “Court of Common Pleas, +London, July 6.—The Chief Justice (Tindal) asked the +ground of objection, and ten of the jurymen answered +that in the last case one of their colleagues had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> +suggested that the verdict should be decided by tossing +up!” Here is certainly a very important suggestion, +and one which, recognising justice as a blind goddess, is +strictly in conformity with the impersonation. Nothing +could possibly be farther removed from the dangers of +undue influence than decisions obtained in this manner. +Not only are all the prejudices and party bearings of +individual jurors avoided, but an honest and manly oblivion +of all the evidence which might bias men if left to +the guidance of their poor and erring faculties, is thus +secured. It is human to err, says the poet moralist; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> +so the jurymen in question discovered, and would therefore +rather refer a knotty question to another deity than +Justice, whom men call Fortune. How much would +it simplify our complex and gnarled code, the introduction +of this system? In the next place, juries need +not be any longer empannelled, the judge could “sky the +copper” himself. The only question would be, to have +a fair halfpenny. See with what rapidity the much-cavilled +court would dispatch public business! I think I +see our handsome Chief of the Common Pleas at home +here, with his knowing eye watching the vibrations of +the coin, and calling out in his sonorous tone, “Head—the +plaintiff has it. Call another case.” I peep into the +Court of Chancery, and behold Sir Edward twirling the +penny with more cautious fingers, and then with his +sharp look and sharper voice, say, “Tail! Take a rule +for the defendant.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illo216.jpg" width="400" height="432" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>No longer shall we hear objections as to the sufficiency +of legal knowledge possessed by those in the judgment-seat. +There will be no petty likings for this, and dislikings +for that court; no changes of venue; no challenges +of the jury; even Lord Brougham himself, of whom Sir +Edward remarked, “What a pity it was he did not know +a little law, for then he would have known a little of +everything”—even he might be a chancellor once more. +What a power of patronage it would give each succeeding +ministry to know that capacity was of no consequence; +and that the barrister of six years’ standing could turn +his penny as well as the leader in Chancery. Public +business need never be delayed a moment; and if the +Chief Baron were occupied in chamber, the crier of the +court could perform his functions till he came back again.</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_CLIMBING_BOYS" id="A_NUT_FOR_CLIMBING_BOYS"></a>A NUT FOR “CLIMBING BOYS.”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo218.jpg" width="200" height="138" alt="O" title="O" /> +</div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em"><span class="smcap">ne</span> man may lead a horse +to the water, but ten +cannot make him drink, +sayeth the adage; and so +it might be said, any one +might devise an act of +parliament—but who can +explain all its intentions +and provisions—define its powers—and illustrate its +meanings? One clause will occasionally vitiate another; +one section completely contradict the preceding one; the +very objects of the legislature are often so pared away in +committee, that a mere shadowy outline remains of what +the original framer intended; and were it not for the bold +hand of executive justice, the whole might be inoperative. +The judge, happily, supplies the deficiency of the lawmaker—and +the thing were perfect, if judges were not, +like doctors, given to differ—and thus, occasionally, disseminate +somewhat opposite notions of the statutes of +the land.</p> + +<p>Such being the case, it will not be deemed impertinent +of one, who desires to conform in all respects to the law, +to ask, from time to time, of our rulers and governors, +certain questions, the answers to which, should he happily +receive them, will be regarded by him as though written +on tables of brass.</p> + +<p>Now, in a late session of parliament, some humane<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +member brought in a bill to interdict the sweeping of +chimneys by all persons small enough for the purpose, +and ingeniously suggested supplying their place by others, +whose size would have inevitably condemned them to +perish in a flue. Never had philanthropist a greater share +of popularity. Little sweeps sang his praises along the +streets—penny periodicals had verses in his honour—the +“song of the soot” was set to music—and people, in the +frenzy of their enthusiasm, so far forgot their chimneys, +that scarcely a street in town had not, at least, one fire +every night in the week. Meanwhile, the tender sweeplings +had lost their occupation, they had pronounced their +farewell to the brush—what was to become of them? +Alas, the legislature had not thought of that point; for, +they were not influential enough to claim compensation. +I grieve to think, but there is too much reason to fear, +that many of them betook themselves to the ancient vocation +of pickpockets. Yes, as Dr. Watts has it—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Satan finds some mischief still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For idle hands to do.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em">The divisional police-offices were filled each morning with +small “suttees”—whose researches after handkerchiefs +and snuff-boxes were of the most active kind; while their +full-grown brethren, first impacted in a funnel of ten +inches by eight, were cursing the Commons, and consigning +to all manner of misfortune the benevolent framer of +the bill.</p> + +<p>Now, I cannot help asking myself, was this the intention +of the legislature—did they really mean that big +people should try to penetrate where little ones were not +small enough to pass?—or was it some piece of conciliation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +to the climbing boys, that they should see their +masters grilled and wasted, in revenge for “the disabilities +they had so long laboured under?” This point of +great difficulty—and after much thought and deliberation, +I have come to one solution of the whole question, and I +only hope it may prove the right one. It is this. The +bill is a parable—the climbing boy, and the full-grown +sweep—and the chimney, and the householder, and the +machine, are mere types which I would interpret thus:—the +householder is John Bull, a good-natured, easy fellow, +liking his ease, and studying his comfort—caring for his +dinner, and detesting smoke above all things; he wishes +to have his house neat and orderly, neither confusion nor +disturbance—but his great dread is fire; the very thought +of it sets him a-trembling all over. Now, for years past, +he has remarked that the small sweeps, who mount so +glibly to the top of the flue, rarely do anything but make +a noise—they scream and shout for ten minutes, or so, +and then come down, with their eyes red, and their noses +bloody, and cry themselves sick, till they get bread-and-butter. +John is worried and fretted at all this; he remembers +the time a good-sized sweep used to go up and rake +down all the soot in no time. These were the old Tory +ministers, who took such wise and safe precautions against +fire, that an insurance-office was never needed. “Not +so now,” quoth John; “’od! rabbit it, they’ve got their +climbing boys, who are always bleating and bawling, for +the neighbourhood to look at them—and yet, devil a bit +of good they do the whole time.”</p> + +<p>And now, who are these? you would ask. I’ll tell you—the +“Climbing Boys” are the Howicks, and the Clements—the +Smith O’Briens and the D’Israelis, and a host<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +of others, scraping their way upwards, through soot and +smoke, that they may put out their heads in high places, +and cry “’weep! ’weep!” and well may they—they’ve +had a dirty journey—and black enough their hands are, I +warrant you, before they got there.</p> + +<p>To get rid of these, without offending them, John brings +in his philanthropic bill, making it penal to employ them, +or to have any other than the old legitimate sweeps, that +know every turn of the flue, and have gone up and down +any time these twenty years. No new machine for him—no +Whig contrivance, to scrape the bricks and burn the +house—but the responsible full-grown sweeps—who, if the +passage be narrow, have strength to force their way, and +take good care not to get dust in their eyes in the process.</p> + +<p>Such is my interpretation of the bill, and I only trust +a discerning public may agree with me.</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_THE_SUBDIVISION_OF_LABOUR" id="A_NUT_FOR_THE_SUBDIVISION_OF_LABOUR"></a>A NUT FOR “THE SUBDIVISION OF LABOUR.”</h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">I forget</span> the place, and the occasion also, but I have a +kind of misty recollection of having once, in these nutting +excursions of mine, been excessively eloquent on the subject +of the advantages derivable from division of labour.</p> + +<p>Not a walk or condition in life is there to which it has +not penetrated; and while natural talents have become +cultivated from finding their most congenial sphere of +operation, immense results have accrued in every art +and science where a higher degree of perfection has been +thus attained. Your doctor and your lawyer now-a-days +select the precise portion of your person or property they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +intend to operate on. The oculist and the aurist, and the +odontalgist and the pedicurist, all are suggestive of various +local sufferings, by which they bound their skill; and so, +the equity lawyer and the common-law lawyer, the special +pleader and the bar orator, have subdivided knavery, +without diminishing its amount. Even in literature, +there are the heavy men who “do” the politics, and the +quiet men who do the statistics, and the rough-and-ready +men, who are a kind of servants-of-all-work, and so on. +In universities, there is the science man and the classical +man, the man of simple equations and the man of spondees. +Painting has its bright colourists and its more +sombre-loving artists, and so on—the great camps of +party would seem to have given the impulse to every +condition of life, and “speciality” is the order of the day.</p> + +<p>No sooner is a new discovery made, no matter whether +in the skies above, or the dark bowels of the earth, than +an opportunity of disagreement is sure to arise. Two, +mayhap three, gentlemen, profess diversity of opinion; +followers are never lacking, let any one be fool enough to +turn leader—and straightway there comes out a new sect, +with a Greek name for a title.</p> + +<p>It is only the other day, men began to find out that +primitive rocks, and basalt, ochre, and sandstone, had +lived a long time, and must surely know something of +antiquity—if they only could tell it. The stones, from +that hour, had an unhappy time of it—men went about in +gangs with hammers and crowbars, shivering this and +shattering that—picking holes in respectable old rocks, +that never had a word said against them, and peeping into +“quarts,”<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> like a policeman.</p> + +<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> Query “quartz.”—<i>Devil.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span></p></div> + +<p>Men must be quarrelsome, you’d say, if they could fight +about paving-stones—but so they did. One set would +have it that the world was all cinders, and another set +insisted it was only slack—and so, they called themselves +Plutonians and Neptunians, and made great converts to +their respective opinions.</p> + +<p>Gulliver tells us of “Big-endians” and “Little-endians,” +who hated each other like poison; and thus it is, our +social condition is like a row in an Irish fair, where one +strikes somebody, and nobody thinks the other right.</p> + +<p>Oh! for the happy days of heretofore, when the two +kings of Brentford smelled at one nosegay. It couldn’t +happen now, I promise you.</p> + +<p>One of their majesties would have insisted on the petals, +and the other been equally imperative regarding the stamina: +they’d have pushed their claims with all the weight +of their influence, and there would have been soon little +vestige of a nosegay between them.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/illo223.jpg" width="250" height="204" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>But to come +back, for all this +is digression. The +subdivision of +labour, with all +its advantages, +has its reverse to +the medal. You +are ill, for +instance. You +have been dining +with the Lord +Mayor, and hip-hipping to the health of her Majesty’s +ministers; or drinking, mayhap, nine times nine to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +independence of Poland, or civil and religious liberty all +over the globe—or any other fiction of large dinners. +You go home, with your head aching from bad wine, bad +speeches, and bad music; your wife sees you look excessively +flushed; your eyes have got an odd kind of expression, +far too much of the white being visible; a half shut-up +look, like a pastry-cook’s shop on Sunday; there are evident +signs, from blackness of the lips, that in your English +ardour for the navy you have made a “port-hole” of your +mouth; in fact, you have a species of semi-apoplectic +threatening, that bodes ill for the insurance company.</p> + +<p>A doctor is sent for—he lives near, and comes at once—with +a glance he recognises your state, and suggests the +immediate remedy—the lancet.</p> + +<p>“Fetch a basin,” says somebody, with more presence +of mind than the rest.</p> + +<p>“Not so fast,” quoth the medico. “I am a pure +physician—I don’t bleed: that’s the surgeon’s affair. I +should be delighted to save the gentleman’s life—but we +have a bye-law against it in the college. Nothing could +give me more pleasure than to cure you, if it wasn’t for +the charter. What a pity it is! I’m sure I wish, with +all my heart, the cook would take courage to open a vein, +or even give you a bloody nose with the cleaver.”</p> + +<p>Do you think I exaggerate here? Try the experiment—I +only ask that.</p> + +<p>Sending for the surgeon does not solve the difficulty; +he may be a man who cuts corns and cataracts—who only +operates for strabismus, or makes new noses for Peninsular +heroes. In fact, if you don’t hit the right number—and +it’s a large lottery—you may go out of the world without +even the benefit of physic.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p> + +<p>This great system, however, does not end with human +life. The coroners—resolved not to be behind their age—have +made a great movement, and shown themselves +men worthy of the enlightened era they live in. Read +this:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“On Friday morning last, a man named Patrick Knowlan, a +private in the 3rd Buffs, was discovered lying dead close beneath +the platform of a wharf at the bottom of Holborn-lane, Chatham. +It would appear that deceased had mistaken his way, and fallen +from the wharf, which is used for landing coals from the river, a +depth of about eight feet, upon the muddy beach below, which was +then strewn with refuse coal. There was a large and severe wound +upon the left temple, and a piece of coal was sticking in the left +cheek, close below the eye. The whole left side of the face was +much contracted. He had evidently, from the state of his clothes, +been covered with water, which overflows this spot at the period of +spring tides. Although nothing certain is known, it is generally +supposed that he mistook Holborn-lane for the West-lane, which +leads to the barracks, and that walking forward in the darkness he +fell from the wharf. Mr. Lewis, the coroner for the city of +Rochester, claims jurisdiction over all bodies found in the water at +this spot; and as the unfortunate man had evidently been immersed, +he thought this a proper case for the exercise of his office, and +accordingly summoned a jury to sit upon the body at ten o’clock +on Friday morning—but on his going to view the deceased, he found +that it was at the King’s Arms, Chatham, in the hands of Bines, +the Chatham constable, as the representative of Mr. Hinde, one of +the coroners for the eastern division of the county of Kent, who +refused to give up the key of the room, but allowed Mr. Lewis and +his jury to view the body. They then returned to the Nag’s Head, +Rochester, and having heard the evidence of John Shepherd, a +fisherman, who deposed that a carter, going on to the beach for +coals, at half-past seven o’clock on Friday morning, found the body +as already described, the jury returned a verdict of ‘Found dead.’ +Mr. Hinde, the county coroner, held another inquest upon the +deceased, at the King’s Arms; and after taking the evidence of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +William Whittingham, the carter who found the body, and Frederick +Collins, a corporal of the 3rd Buffs, who stated that he saw +the deceased on the evening preceding his death, and he was then +sober, the jury returned a verdict of ‘Accidental death;’ each of +the coroners issued a warrant for the interment of the body. The +disputed jurisdiction, it is believed, will now be submitted to the +decision of a higher court, in order to settle what is here considered +a <i>vexata quæstio</i>.”—<i>Maidstone Journal.</i></p></div> + +<p>Is not this perfect? Only think of land coroners and +water coroners—imagine the law defining the jurisdiction +of the Tellurian as far forth into the sea as he could sit on +a corpse without danger, and the Neptunian ruling the +waves beyond in absolute sway—conceive the “solidist” +revelling in all the accidents that befall life upon the +world’s highways, and the “fluidist” seeking his prey like +a pearl diver, five fathoms low, beneath “the deep, deep +sea.” What a rivalry theirs, who divide the elements +between them, and have nature’s everlasting boundaries +to define the limits of their empire.</p> + +<p>I hope to see the time when these great functionaries of +law shall be provided with a suitable costume. I should +glory to think of Mr. Hinde accoutred in emblems suggestive +of earth and its habits—a wreath of oak leaves +round his brows; and to behold Mr. Lewis in a garment +of marine plants and sea shells sit upon his corpse, with a +trident in his right hand. What a comfort for the man +about to take French leave of life, that he could know +precisely the individual he should benefit, and be able to +go “by land” or “water,” as his taste inclined him.</p> + +<p>I have no time here to dwell upon the admirable distinctions +of the two verdicts given in the case I allude to. +When the great change I suggest is fully carried out, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +difficulty of a verdict will at once be avoided, for the jury, +like boys at play, will only have to cry out at each case—“wet +or dry.”</p> + +<p>There would be probably too much expense incurred in +poor localities by maintaining two officials; and I should +suggest, in such cases, an amphibious coroner—a kind of +merman, who should enjoy a double jurisdiction, and, as +they say of half-bred pointers, be able “to take the water +when required.”</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_A_NEW_VERDICT" id="A_NUT_FOR_A_NEW_VERDICT"></a>A NUT FOR A “NEW VERDICT.”</h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Money-getting</span> and cotton-spinning have left us little +time for fun of any kind in England—no one has a moment +to spare, let him be ever so droll, and a joke seems now +to be esteemed a <i>bonâ fide</i> expenditure; and as “a pin a +day” is said to be “a groat a year,” there is no calculating +what an inroad any manner of pleasantry might not make +into a man’s income. Book-writers have ceased to be +laughter-moving—the stage has given it up altogether, +except now and then in a new tragedy—society prefers +gravity to gaiety—and, in fact, the spirit of comic fun and +drollery would seem to have died out in the land—if it +were not for that inimitable institution called trial by jury. +Bless their honest hearts! jurymen do indeed relieve the +drab-coloured look of every-day life—they come out in +strong colour from the sombre tints of common-place +events and people. Queer dogs! nothing can damp the +warm ardour of their comic vein—all the solemnity of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +court of justice—the look of the bar and the bench—the +voice of the crier—the blue bags of briefs—the “terrible +show,” has no effect on their minds—“ruat cœlum,” they +will have their joke.</p> + +<p>It is in vain for the judge, let him be ever so rigid in +his charge, to tell them that their province is simply with +certain facts, on which they have to pronounce an opinion +of yea or nay. They must be jurymen, and “something +more.” It’s not every day Mr. Sniggins, of Pimlico, is +called upon to keep company with a chief-justice and +sergeant learned in the law—Popkins don’t leave his +shop once a week to discuss Coke upon Littleton with an +attorney-general. No: the event to them is a great one—there +they sit, fawned on, and flattered by counsel on +both sides—called impartial and intelligent, and all that—and +while every impertinence the law encourages has +been bandied about the body of the court, <i>they</i> remain to +be lauded and praised by all parties, for they have a +verdict in their power, and when it comes—what a thing +it is!</p> + +<p>There is a well-known story of an English nobleman, +desiring to remain <i>incog.</i> in Calais, telling his negro +servant—“If any one ask who I am, Sambo, mind you +say, ‘a Frenchman.’” Sambo carried out the instruction +by saying—“My massa a Frenchman, and so am I.” This +anecdote exactly exemplifies a verdict of a jury—it cannot +stop short at sense, but must, by one fatal plunge, involve +its decision in absurdity.</p> + +<p>Hear what lately happened in the north of Ireland. A +man was tried and found guilty of murder—the case admitted +no doubt—the act was a cold-blooded, deliberate +assassination, committed by a soldier on his sergeant, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +the presence of many witnesses. The trial proceeded; +the facts were proved; and—I quote the local newspaper—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“The jury retired, and were shut up when the judge left the +court, at half-past seven. At nine, his lordship returned to court, +when the foreman of the jury intimated that they had agreed. They +were then called into court, and having answered to their names, +returned a verdict of guilty, but recommended the prisoner to mercy +upon account of the close intimacy that existed between the parties +at the time of the occurrence.”</p></div> + +<p>Now, what ever equalled this? When the jury who +tried Madame Laffarge for the murder of her husband, +returned a verdict of guilty, with that recommendation to +mercy which is implied by the words “des circonstances +attenuantes,” Alphonse Karr pronounced the “extenuating +circumstances,” to be the fact, that she always mixed +gum with the arsenic, and never gave him his poison +“neat.”</p> + +<p>But even <i>they</i> never thought of carrying out their +humanity farther by employing the Belfast plea, that she +had been “intimate with him” before she killed him. No, +it was reserved for our canny northerns to find out this +new secret of criminal jurisprudence, and to show the +world that there is a deep philosophy in the vulgar expression, +a blood relation—meaning thereby that degree +of allianceship which admits of butchery, and makes killing +no murder; for if intimacy be a ground of mercy, what +must be friendship, what brotherhood, or paternity?</p> + +<p>Were this plea to become general, how cautious would +men become about their acquaintances—what a dread +they would entertain of becoming intimate with gentlemen +from Tipperary!</p> + +<p>I scarcely think the Whigs would throw out such lures<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> +for Dan and his followers, if they could consider these +consequences; and I doubt much—taking everything into +consideration, that the “Duke” would see so much of +Lord Brougham as he has latterly.</p> + +<p>“Whom can a man make free with, if not with his +friends?” saith Figaro; and the Belfast men have studied +Beaumarchais, and only “carried out his principle,” as +the Whigs say, when they speak of establishing popery in +Ireland, to complete the intention of emancipation.</p> + +<p>Lawyers must have been prodigiously sick of all the +usual arguments in defence of prisoners in criminal cases +many a year ago. One of the cleverest lawyers and the +cleverest men I ever knew, says he would hang any man +who was defended on an <i>alibi</i>, and backed by a good character. +Insanity is worn out; but here comes Belfast to +the rescue, with its plea of intimacy. Show that your +client was no common acquaintance—prove clearly habits +of meeting and dining together—display a degree of friendship +between the parties that bordered on brotherhood, +and all is safe. Let your witness satisfy the jury that +they never had an altercation or angry word in their lives, +and depend upon it, killing will seem merely a little freak +of eccentricity, that may be indulged with Norfolk Island, +but not punished with the gallows.</p> + +<p>“Guilty, my lord, but very intimate with the deceased,” +is a new discovery in law, and will hereafter be known +as “the Belfast verdict.”</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_THE_REAL_LIBERATOR" id="A_NUT_FOR_THE_REAL_LIBERATOR"></a>A NUT FOR THE REAL “LIBERATOR.”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo231.jpg" width="200" height="163" alt="W" title="W" /> +</div> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em"><span class="smcap">hen</span> Solomon said there +was nothing new under +the sun, he never knew +Lord Normanby. That’s +a fact, and now to show +cause.</p> + +<p>No attribute of regal, +and consequently it may +be inferred of viceregal +personages, have met +such universal praise from the world, as the wondrous tact +they would seem to possess, regarding the most suitable +modes of flattering the pride and gratifying the passions +of those they govern.</p> + +<p>It happens not unfrequently, that they leave this blessed +privilege unused, and give themselves slight pains in its +exercise; but should the time come when its exhibition +may be deemed fit or necessary, their instinctive appreciation +is said never to fail them, and they invariably hit +off the great trait of a people at once.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it may be the elevated standard on which they +are placed, gives them this wondrous <i>coup-d’œil</i>, and +enables them to take wider views than mortals less eminently +situated; perhaps it is some old leaven of privileges +derivable from right divine. But no matter, the thing is so.</p> + +<p>Napoleon well knew the temper of Frenchmen in his +day, and how certain short words, emblematic of their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +country’s greatness and glory, could fascinate their minds +and bend them to his purpose. In Russia, the czar is the +head of the church, as of the state, and a mere word from +him to one of his people is a treasure above all price. In +Holland, a popular monarch taps some forty puncheons of +schnapps, and makes the people drunk. In Belgium, he +gets up a high mass, and a procession of virgins. In the +States, a rabid diatribe against England, and a spice of +Lynch Law, are clap-trap. But every land has its own +peculiar leaning—to be gratified by some one concession +or compliment in preference to every other.</p> + +<p>Now, when Lord Normanby came to Ireland, he must +have been somewhat puzzled by the very multiplicity of +these expectations. It was a regular “embarras de +richesses.” There was so much to give, and he so willing +to give it!</p> + +<p>First, there was discouragement to be dealt out against +Protestants—an easy and a pleasant path; then the priests +were to be brought into fashion—a somewhat harder task; +country gentlemen were to be snubbed and affronted; petty +attorneys were to be petted and promoted; all claimants +with an “O” to their names were to have something—it +looked national; men of position and true influence were +to be pulled down and degraded, and so on. In fact, there +was a good two years of smart practice in the rupture of +all the ties of society, and in the overthrow of whatever +was respectable in the land, before he need cry halt.</p> + +<p>Away he went then, cheered by the sweet voices of the +mob he loved, and quick work he made of it. I need not +stop to say, how pleasant Dublin became when deserted +of all who could afford to quit it; nor how peaceful were +the streets which no one traversed—<i>ubi solitudinem faciunt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +pacem appellant</i>. The people, like Oliver, “asked +for more;” ungrateful people! not content with Father +Glynn at the viceroy’s table, and the Bishop of “Mesopotamia” +in the council, they cried, like the horseleech’s +daughters, “Give! give!”</p> + +<p>“What would they have, the spalpeens?” said Pierce +Mahony; “sure ain’t we destroying the place entirely, +and nobody will be able to live here after us.”</p> + +<p>“What do they want?” quoth Anthony Blake; “can’t +they have patience? Isn’t the church trembling, and property +not worth two years’ purchase?”</p> + +<p>“Upon my life!” whispered Lord Morpeth, “I can’t +comprehend them. I fear we have been only but too +good-natured!—don’t you think so?”</p> + +<p>And so they pondered over their difficulties, but never +a man among them could suggest a remedy for their new +demand, nor make out a concession which had not been +already made.</p> + +<p>“Did you butter Dan?” said Anthony.</p> + +<p>“Ay, and offered him the ‘rolls’ too,” said Sheil.</p> + +<p>“It’s no use,” interposed Pierce; “he’s not to be +caught.”</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t ye make Tom Steele Bishop of Cashel?”</p> + +<p>“He wouldn’t take it,” groaned the viceroy.</p> + +<p>“Is Mr. Arkins a privy councillor?”</p> + +<p>“No; but he might if he liked. There’s no use in these +trifles.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Eureka</i>, gents, I have it!” cried my lord; “order +post-horses for me this instant—I have it!”</p> + +<p>And so he had, and by that act alone he stamped himself +as the first man of his party.</p> + +<p>Swift philosophised on the satiric touch of building a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +madhouse, as the most appropriate charity to Ireland; but +what would he have said had he heard that the greatest +favour its rulers could bestow—the most flattering compliment +to national feeling—was to open the gaols, to let +loose robbers and housebreakers, highwaymen and cutthroats—to +return burglars to their afflicted homes, and +bring back felons to their weeping families. Some sneering +critic will object to it, as scarcely complimentary to a +country to say—“these gentlemen are only thieves—murderers; +they cannot hurt <i>your</i> morals. They were sentenced +to transportation, but why should we spread vice +among innocent bushmen, and disseminate wickedness +through Norfolk Island? Let them loose where they are, +they know the ways of the place, they’ll not murder the +‘wrong man;’ depend upon it, too, the rent won’t suffer +by their remaining.” And so my lord took off the hand-cuffs, +and filed the fetters; and the bondsmen, albeit not +all “hereditary,” went free. Who should be called the +Liberator, I ask, after this? Is it your Daniel, who promises +year after year, and never performs; or you, my +lord, who strikes off real chains, not metaphorical ones, +and liberates real captives, not figurative slaves?</p> + +<p>It was, indeed, a “great day for Ireland” when the +villains got loose; and must have been a strong lesson on +the score of domestic duty to many a roving blade, who +preferred spending that evening at home, to venturing out +after dark. My lord covered himself with laurels, and albeit +they were gathered, as Lord Wellesley said, in the “Groves +of Blarney,” they well became the brow they ornamented.</p> + +<p>I should scarcely have thought necessary to ring a pæan +of praise on this great governor, if it were not for a most +unaccountable attack his magnanimous and stupendous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> +mercy, as Tom Steele would call it, has called forth from +some organ of the press.</p> + +<p>This print, calling itself <i>The Cork Constitution</i>, thus +discourseth:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>“Why, of 16 whom he pardoned, and of 41 whose sentences he +commuted in the gaol of our own city, 13 were re-committed, and +of these no fewer than 10 were in due time transported. One of +the latter, Mary Lynch, was subsequently five times committed, and +at last transported; Jeremiah Twomey, <i>alias</i> Old Lock, was subsequently +six times committed, and finally transported, while two +others were twice committed. These are a specimen of the persons +whom his lordship delighted to honour. Of the whole 57 (who +were liberated between January, 1835, and April, 1839), there +were, at the time of their sentences being commuted, or themselves +discharged, 34 under sentence of transportation, and two under +sentence of death. In the county gaol, 47 prisoners experienced +the benefit of viceregal liberality. Of these 18 had been under sentence +of transportation, 11 of them for life; but how many of them +it became the duty of the government to introduce a second or third +time to the notice of the judge, or what was their ultimate destiny, +we are, unfortunately, not informed. The recorder, we observe, +passed sentence of transportation yesterday on a fellow named +Corkery, who had some years ago been similarly sentenced by one +of the judges, but for whose release his worship was unable to +account. The explanation, however, is easy. Corkery was one of +the scoundrels liberated by Lord Normanby, and he has since been +living on the plunder of the citizens, on whom that vain and +visionary viceroy so inconsiderately let him loose.”</p></div> + +<p>Now I detest figures, and, therefore, I won’t venture to dispute +the man’s arithmetic about the “ten in due time transported,” +nor Corkery, nor Mary Lynch, nor any of them.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/illo236.jpg" width="200" height="259" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>I take the facts on his own showing, and I ground upon +them the most triumphant defence of the calumniated +viceroy. What was it, I ask, but the very prescience of +the lord lieutenant we praise in the act? He liberated a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +gaol full of ruffians, not to inundate the world with a host +of felons and vagabonds, but, simply, to give them a kind +of day-rule.</p> + +<p>“Let them loose,” cried my lord; “take the irons off—devil +a long they’ll be free. Mark my words, that fellow +will murder some one else before long. Thank you, Mary +Lynch, it is a real pleasure to me to restore you to liberty;” +and then, <i>sotto</i>, “you’ll have a voyage out, nevertheless, +I see that. Open the gates—pass out, gentlemen +highwaymen. Don’t be afraid, good people of Cork, these +are infernal ruffians, they’ll all be back again before six +months. It’s no consequence to me to see you at large, +for I have the heartfelt conviction that most of you must +be hanged yet.”</p> + +<p>Here is the true defence of +the viceroy, here the real and +well-grounded explanation of +his conduct; and I hope when +Lord Brougham attacks his +noble friend—which of course +he will—that the marquis will +hurl back on him, with proud +triumph, this irresistible mark +of his united foresight and +benevolence.</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_HER_MAJESTYS_SERVANTS" id="A_NUT_FOR_HER_MAJESTYS_SERVANTS"></a>A NUT FOR “HER MAJESTY’S SERVANTS.”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">If</span> a fair estimate were at any moment to be taken of +the time employed in the real business of the country, and +that consumed by public characters in vindicating their +conduct, recapitulating their good intentions, and glossing +over their bad acts, it would be found that the former was +to the latter as the ratio of Falstaff’s bread to the “sack.”</p> + +<p>A British House of Commons is in fact nineteen out of +every twenty hours employed in the pleasant personalities of +attack and defence. It is something that the “noble baron” +said last session, or the “right hon. baronet” didn’t say in +the present one, engrosses all their attention; and the most +animated debates are about certain expressions of some +“honourable and learned gentleman,” who always uses his +words in a sense different from the rest of the nation.</p> + +<p>If this satisfies the public and stuffs the newspapers, +perhaps I should not repine at it; but certainly it is very +fatiguing and tiresome to any man with a moderately good +memory to preserve the excellent traditions each ministry +retains of their own virtues, and how eloquently the opposition +can hold forth upon the various good things they +would have done, had they been left quietly on the +treasury benches. Now how much better and more business-like +would it be if, instead of leaving these gentlemen +to dilate and expatiate on their own excellent +qualities, some public standards were to be established, +by which at a glance the world at large could decide on +their merits and examine into their fitness for office at a +future period. Your butler and your coachman, when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +leaving your service, do not present themselves to a new +master with characters of their own inditing, or if they +did they would unquestionably require a very rigid +scrutiny. What would you say if a cook who professes +herself a perfect treasure of economy and excellence, +warrants herself sober, amiable, and cleanly—who, without +other vouchers for her fitness than her own, would +dilate on her many virtues and accomplishments, and +demand to be taken into your service because she has +higher taste for self-panegyric than her rival. Such a +thing would be preposterous in the kitchen, but it is +exactly what takes place in parliament, and there is but +one remedy for it. Let her majesty’s servants, when they +leave their places, receive written characters, like those +of less exalted persons. These documents would then be +on record when the applicants sought other situations, +and could be referred to with more confidence by the +nation than if given by the individuals themselves.</p> + +<p>How easily would the high-flown sentiments of any of +the “outs” be tested by a simple comparison with his +last character—how clearly would pretension be measured +by what he had done in his last place. No long +speeches, no four-hour addresses would be required at the +hustings then. Show us your character, would be the +cry—why did he leave his mistress? the question.</p> + +<p>The petty subterfuges of party would not stand such a +test as this; all the little miserable explanations—that it +was a quarrel in the kitchen, that the cook said this and the +footman said that, would go for nothing. You were turned +out, and why?—that’s the bone and sinew of the matter.</p> + +<p>To little purpose would my Lord John remind his party +that he was going to do every thing for every body—to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +plunder the parsons and pay the priests—to swamp the +constitution and upset the church—respectable people +would take time to look at his papers; they would see +that he was an active little busy man, accustomed to +do the whole work of a family single-handed; that he +was in many respects attentive and industrious, but had a +following of low Irish acquaintances whom he let into the +house on every occasion, and that then nothing escaped +them—they smashed the furniture, broke the looking-glasses, +and kicked up a regular row: for this he was discharged, +receiving all wages due.</p> + +<p>And then, instead of suffering long-winded panegyrics +from the member for Tiverton, how easily would the +matter be comprehended in one line—“a good servant, +lively, and intelligent, but self-sufficient, and apt to take +airs. Turned off for quarrelling with the French valet +next door, and causing a difference between the families.”</p> + +<p>Then again, how decisively the merits of a certain ex-chancellor +might be measured in reading—“hired as +butler, but insisted on cleaning the carriage, and scratched +the panels; would dress the dinner, and spoiled the soup +and burned the sauce; never attended to his own duties, +but spent his time fighting with the other servants, and is +in fact a most troublesome member of a household. He +is, however, both smart and intelligent, and is allowed a +small pension to wait on company days.”</p> + +<p>Trust me, this plan, if acted on—and I feel it cannot +be long neglected—will do more to put pretension on a +par with desert, than all the adjourned debates that waste +the sessions; it would save a world of unblushing self-praise +and laudation, and protect the country from the +pushing impertinence of a set of turned-off servants.</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_THE_LANDLORD_AND_TENANT" id="A_NUT_FOR_THE_LANDLORD_AND_TENANT"></a>A NUT FOR THE LANDLORD AND TENANT +COMMISSION.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Every</span> one knows the story of the man who, at the +penalty of losing his head in the event of failure, promised +the caliph of Bagdad that he would teach his ass +to read in the space of ten years, trusting that, ere the +time elapsed, either the caliph, or the ass, or he himself, +would die, and the compact be at an end. Now, +it occurs to me that the wise policy of this shrewd +charlatan is the very essence of all parliamentary commissions. +First, there is a grievance—then comes a +debate—a very warm one occasionally, with plenty of +invective and accusation on both sides—and then they +agree to make a drawn game of it, and appoint “a +Commission.”</p> + +<p>Nothing can be more plausible in appearance than +such a measure; nor could any man, short of Hume +himself, object to so reasonable a proceeding as a +patient and searching inquiry into the circumstances +and bearings of any disputed question. The Commission +goes to work: if a Tory one, consisting usually of some +dumb country gentlemen, who like committee work;—if +Whig, the suckling “barristers of six years’ standing:” +and at it they go. The newspapers announce that they are +“sitting to examine witnesses”—a brief correspondence +appears at intervals, to show that they have a secretary<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +and a correspondent, a cloud then wraps the whole +concern in its dark embrace, and not the most prying +curiosity is ever able afterwards to detect any one fact +concerning the commission or its labours, nor could you +hear in any society the slightest allusion ever made to +their whereabouts.</p> + +<p>It is, in fact, the polite mode of interment applied +to the question at issue—the Commissioners performing +the solemn duties of undertakers, and not even the most +reckless resurrectionist being found to disturb the remains. +Before the report should issue, the Commissioners die off, +or the question has taken a new form; new interests have +changed all its bearings; a new ministry is in power, or +some more interesting matter has occupied the place it +should fill in public attention; and if the Report was +even a volume of “Punch,” it might pass undetected.</p> + +<p>Now and then, however, a Commission will issue for +the real object of gleaning facts and conveying information; +and then the duties are most uncomfortable, and but +one course is open, which is, to protract the inquiry, like +the man with the ass, and leave the result to time.</p> + +<p>In a country like ours, conflicting interests and opposing +currents are ever changing the landmarks of party; and +the commissioners feel that with years something will +happen to make their labours of little consequence, and +that they have only to prolong the period, and all is safe.</p> + +<p>At this moment, we have what is called a “Landlord +and Tenant Commission” sitting, or sleeping, as it may be. +They have to investigate diverse, knotty, and puzzling +points, about people who want too much for their land, +and others who prefer paying nothing for it. They are to +report, in some fashion, respecting the prospects of estated<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> +gentlemen burdened with rent-charges and mortgages, and +who won’t improve properties they can scarcely live on—and +a peasantry, who must nominally pay an exaggerated +rent, depending upon the chance of shooting the agent +before the gale-day, and thus obtaining easier terms for +the future.</p> + +<p>They are to investigate the capabilities of waste lands, +while cultivated lands lie waste beside them; they must +find out why land-owners like money, and tenants hate +paying it; and why a people hold life very cheap when +they possess little means to sustain it.</p> + +<p>Now these, take them how you will, are not so easy +of solution as you may think. The landlord, for his +own sake, would like a thriving, well-to-do, contented +tenantry; the tenants, for their sakes, would like a fair-dealing, +reasonable landlord, not over griping and grabbing, +but satisfied with a suitable value for his property. +They both have no common share of intelligence and +acuteness—they have a soil unquestionably fruitful, a +climate propitious, little taxation, good roads, abundant markets; +and yet the one is half ruined in his house and the +other wholly beggared in his hovel—each averring that the +cause lies in the tithes, the tariff, the poor-rate, or popery, +the agent or the agitation: in fact, it is something or +other which one favours and the other opposes—some +system or sect, some party or measure, which one +advocates and the other denounces; and no matter +though its influence should not, in the remotest way, enter +into the main question, there is a grievance—that’s something; +and as Sir Lucius says, “it’s a mighty pretty +quarrel as it stands”—not the less, that certain partizans +on either side assist in the <i>mêlée</i>, and the House of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +Commons or the Association Hall interfere with their +influence.</p> + +<p>If, then, the Commissioners can see their way here, +they are smart fellows, and no small praise is due to them. +There are difficulties enough to puzzle long heads; and I +only hope they may be equal to the task. Meanwhile, +depopulation goes on briskly—landlords are shot every +week in Tipperary; and if the report be but delayed for +some few months longer, a new element will appear in +the question—for however there may remain some pretenders +to perpetuity of tenure, the landlords will not be +there to grant the leases. Let the Commissioners, then, +keep a look-out a-head—much of the embarrassment of +the inquiry will be obviated by only biding their time; +and if they but delay their report till next November, +there will be but one party to legislate for in the island.</p> + + + +<h2><a name="A_NUT_FOR_THE_HUMANE_SOCIETY" id="A_NUT_FOR_THE_HUMANE_SOCIETY"></a>A NUT FOR THE HUMANE SOCIETY.</h2> + +<hr class="ct" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">If</span> my reader will permit me to refer to my own labours, +I would wish to remind him of an old “Nut” of mine, in +which I endeavoured to demonstrate the defective morality +and economy of our penal code—a system, by which +the smallest delinquent is made to cost the state several +hundreds of pounds, for an offence frequently of some few +pennies in value; and a theft of a loaf is, by the geometrical +scale of progressive aggrandisement, gradually +swelled into a most expensive process, in which policemen,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> +station-houses, inspectors, magistrates, sessions, assizes, +judges, crown prosecutors, gaols, turnkeys, and transports, +all figure; and the nation is left to pay the cost of this +terrible array, for the punishment of a crime the prevention +of which might, perhaps, have been effected for +two-pence.</p> + +<p>I do not now intend to go over the beaten track of this +argument; my intention is simply to refer to it, and +adduce another instance of this strange and short-sighted +policy, which prefers waiting to acting, and despises +cheap, though timely interference with evil, and indulges +in the somewhat late, but more expensive process of +reparation.</p> + +<p>And to begin. Imagine—unhappily you need exercise +no great stretch of the faculty, the papers teem with too +many instances—imagine a poor, woe-begone, miserable +creature, destitute and friendless, without a home, without +a meal; his tattered clothing displaying through every +rent the shrunken form and wasted limbs to which hunger +and want have reduced him. See him as night falls, +plodding onwards through the crowded thoroughfares of +the great city; his lack-lustre eye glazed and filmy; his +pale face and blue lip actually corpse-like in their ghastliness. +He gazes at the passers-by with the vacant stare +of idiotcy. Starvation has sapped the very intellect, and +he is like one in some frightful vision; a vague desire for +rest—a dreamy belief that death will release him—lives +in the place of hope; and as he leans over the battlements +of the tall bridge, the plash of the dark river murmurs +softly to his ear. His despair has conjured up a thousand +strange and flitting fancies, and voices seem to call to him +from the dull stream, and invite him to lie down and be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +at peace. Meanwhile the crowd passes on. Men in all +the worldliness of their hopes and fears, their wishes, +their expectations, and their dreads, pour by. None +regard <i>him</i>, who at that moment stands on the very brink +of an eternity, whither his thoughts have gone before him. +As he gazes, his eye is attracted by the star-like spangle +of lights in the water. It is the reflection of those in the +house of the Humane Society; and he suddenly remembers +that there is such an institution; and he bethinks +him, as well as his poor brain will let him, that some +benevolent people have called this association by this +pleasing title, and the very word is a balm to his broken +heart.</p> + +<p>“Humane Society!” Muttering the words, he staggers +onwards; a feeling too faint for hope still survives; and +he bends his wearied steps towards the building. It is +indeed a goodly edifice; Portland stone and granite, massive +columns and a portico, are all there; and Humanity +herself is emblematised in the figures which decorate the +pedestal. The man of misery stands without and looks +up at this stately pile; the dying embers emit one spark, +and for a second, hope brightens into a brief flicker. He +enters the spacious hall, on one side of which a marble +group is seen representing the “good Samaritan;” the +appeal comes home to his heart, and he could cry, but +hunger has dried up his tears.</p> + +<p>I will not follow him in his weary pilgrimage among +the liveried menials of the institution, nor shall I harass +my reader by the cold sarcasm of those who tell him that +he has mistaken the object of the association: that their +care is not with life, but death; that the breathing man, +alive, but on the verge of dissolution, has no interest for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +<i>them</i>; for <i>their</i> humanity waits patiently for his corpse. +It is true, one pennyworth of bread—a meal your dog +would turn from—would rescue this man from death and +self-murder. But what of that—how could such humble, +unobtrusive charity inhabit a palace? How could it pretend +to porters and waiting-men, to scores of officials, +visiting doctors, and physicians in ordinary? By what +trickery could a royal patron be brought to head the list +of benefactors to a scheme so unassuming? Where would +be the stomach-pumps and the galvanic batteries for +science?—where the newspaper reports of a miraculous +recovery?—where the magazine records of suspended +animation?—or where that pride and pomp and circumstance +of enlightened humanity which calls in chemistry +to aid charity, and makes electricity the test of benevolence? +No, no; the hungry man might be fed, and go +his way unseen, untrumpeted—there would be no need +of this specious plausibility of humanity which proclaims +aloud—Go and drown yourself; stand self-accused and +condemned before your Creator; and if there be but a +spark of vitality yet remaining, we’ll call you back to +life again—a starving suicide! No effort shall be spared—messengers +shall fly in every direction for assistance—the +most distinguished physician—processes the most +costly—experiments the most difficult—care unremitting—zeal +untiring, are all yours. Cordials, the cost of which +had sustained you in life for weeks long, are now +poured down your unconscious throat—the limbs that +knew no other bed than straw, are wrapped in heated +blankets—the hand stretched out in vain for alms, is +now rubbed by the jewelled fingers of a west-end +physician.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> + +<p>Men, men, is this charity?—is the fellow-creature +nought?—is the corpse everything?—is a penny too +much to sustain life?—is a hundred pounds too little +to restore it? Away with your stuccoed walls and +pillared corridors—support the starving, and you will +need but little science to reanimate the suicide.</p> + + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 4em; font-size: 90%">THE END.</p> + +<hr class="title2" /> + +<p class="center" style="font-size: 70%">BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Nuts and Nutcrackers, by Charles James Lever + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NUTS AND NUTCRACKERS *** + +***** This file should be named 31685-h.htm or 31685-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/6/8/31685/ + +Produced by Irma Spehar and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +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. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> |