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diff --git a/43814-8.txt b/43814-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 0ba8a3a..0000000 --- a/43814-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10361 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 66, No -409, November 1849, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. 66, No 409, November 1849 - -Author: Various - -Release Date: September 26, 2013 [EBook #43814] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE, NOVEMBER 1849 *** - - - - -Produced by Brendan OConnor, Richard Tonsing, Jonathan -Ingram and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Library of Early -Journals.) - - - - - - - - - -BLACKWOOD'S - -EDINBURGH MAGAZINE. - -NO. CCCCIX. NOVEMBER, 1849. VOL. LXVI. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - THE TRANSPORTATION QUESTION, 519 - - MY PENINSULAR MEDAL. BY AN OLD PENINSULAR. PART I., 539 - - DISENCHANTMENT. BY DELTA, 563 - - ACROSS THE ATLANTIC, 567 - - PEACE AND WAR AGITATORS, 581 - - THE FRENCH NOVELS OF 1849, 607 - - DIES BOREALES. NO. V. CHRISTOPHER UNDER CANVASS, 620 - - EDINBURGH: - WILLIAM BLACKWOOD & SONS, 45, GEORGE STREET; - AND 37, PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON. - - _To whom all communications (post paid) must be addressed._ - SOLD BY ALL THE BOOKSELLERS IN THE UNITED KINGDOM. - -PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH. - -BLACKWOOD'S - -EDINBURGH MAGAZINE. - -NO. CCCCIX. NOVEMBER, 1849. VOL. LXVI. - - - - -THE TRANSPORTATION QUESTION. - - -The great question of SECONDARY PUNISHMENTS has now been settled by -experience, so far as the mother country is concerned. It is now known -that imprisonment has no effect whatever, either in deterring from -crime, or in reforming criminals. Government, albeit most unwilling to -recur to the old system of transportation, has been compelled to do so -by the unanimous voice of the country; by the difficulty of finding -accommodation for the prodigious increase of prisoners in the jails -of the kingdom; and by the still greater difficulty, in these days of -cheapness and declining incomes, of getting the persons intrusted with -the duty of providing additional prison accommodation, to engage in the -costly and tedious work of additional erections. An order in council -has expressly, and most wisely, authorised a return to transportation, -under such regulations as seem best calculated to reform the convicts, -and diminish the dread very generally felt in the colonies, of being -flooded with an inundation of crime from the mother country. And the -principal difficulty felt now is, to find a colony willing to receive -the penal settlers, and incur the risks thought to be consequent on -their unrestricted admission. - -It is not surprising that government should have been driven from the -ruinous system of substituting imprisonment for transportation; for -the results, even during the short period that it was followed out, -were absolutely appalling. The actual augmentation of criminals was the -least part of the evil; the increase of serious crimes, in consequence -of the hardened offenders not being sent out of the country, but -generally liberated after eighteen months' or two years' confinement, -was the insupportable evil. The demoralisation so strongly felt and -loudly complained of in Van Diemen's Land, from the accumulation of -criminals, was rapidly taking place in this country. The persons tried -under the aggravation of previous convictions in Scotland, in the three -last years, have stood as follows:-- - - Under aggravation - Years. Total convicted. of previous - convictions. - 1846 2936 858 - 1847 3569 1024 - 1848 3669 1043 - - --_Parliamentary Reports_, 1846-48. - -So rapid an increase of crimes, and especially among criminals -previously convicted, sufficiently demonstrates the inadequacy of -imprisonment as a means either of deterring from crimes, or reforming -the criminals. The same result appears in England, where the rapid -increase of criminals sentenced to transportation, within the same -period, demonstrates the total inefficacy of the new imprisonment -system. - - Transported. - Years. England and Wales. Scotland. - 1846 2805 352 - 1847 2896 456 - 1848 3251 459 - -And of the futility of the hope that the spread of education will -have any effect in checking the increase of crime, decisive proof -is afforded in the same criminal returns; for from them it appears -that the number of educated criminals in England is above twice, in -Scotland _above three times and a half that of the uneducated_,--the -numbers, during the last three years, being as follows:-- - - | | ENGLAND AND WALES. | SCOTLAND. | - |Years.| | | | | - | | Educated. |Uneducated. | Educated. |Uneducated.| - +------+------------+------------+------------+-----------+ - |1846 | 16,963 | 7,698 | 3,155 | 903 | - |1847 | 19,307 | 9,050 | 3,562 | 1,048 | - |1848 | 20,176 | 9,691 | 3,985 | 911 | - - --_Parliamentary Returns_, 1846-8. - -Nay, what is still more alarming, it distinctly appears, from the -same returns, that the proportion of educated criminals to uneducated -is _steadily on the increase_ in Great Britain. Take the centesimal -proportions given in the last returns for England--those of 1848:-- - - | Degrees of | | | | | | | | | | | - |Instruction.|1839.| 1840.|1841.|1842.|1843.|1844.|1845.|1846.|1847.|1848.| - +------------+-----+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+ - |Unable to | | | | | | | | | | | - |read or | | | | | | | | | | | - |write, |33.53| 33.32|33.21|32.35|31.00|29.77|30.61|30.66|31.39|31.93| - | | | | | | | | | | | | - |Imperfectly,|53.48| 55.57|56.67|58.32|57.60|59.28|58.34|59.51|58.59|56.38| - | | | | | | | | | | | | - |Well, |10.07| 8.29| 7.40| 6.77| 8.02| 8.12| 8.38| 7.71| 7.79| 9.83| - | | | | | | | | | | | | - |Superior, | 0.32| 0.37| 0.45| 0.22| 0.47| 0.42| 0.37| 0.34| 0.28| 0.27| - | | | | | | | | | | | | - |Not | | | | | | | | | | | - |ascertained,| 2.60| 2.45| 2.27| 2.34| 2.91| 2.41| 2.30| 1.78| 1.60| 1.59| - - --_Parliamentary Returns for England_, 1848, p. 12. - -The great increase here is in the criminals who have received an -_imperfect education_, which class has increased as much as that of the -totally uneducated has diminished. Unhappily, imperfect education is -precisely the species of instruction which alone, in the present days -of cheapened production and diminishing wages, the great body of the -poor are able to give to their children. - -Mr Pearson, M.P., who has paid great attention to this subject, and -whose high official situation in the city of London gives him such -ample means of being acquainted with the practical working of the -criminal law, has given the following valuable information in a public -speech, which every one acquainted with the subject must know to be -thoroughly well founded:-- - - "In the year 1810, which is the earliest account that we possess - in any of our archives, the number of commitments, of assize - and sessions cases, was 5146. In the year 1848, the number of - commitments for sessions and assize cases was 30,349. Population - during that period had increased but 60 per cent, whilst the - commitments for crime had increased 420 per cent. I should not be - candid with this assembly if I did not at once say, that there - are various disturbing circumstances which intervene, during - that period, to prevent the apparent increase of commitments - being the real estimate of the actual increase. There was the - transition from war to peace. We all know, that from the days - of Hollingshed, the old chronicler, it has been said that war - takes to itself a portion of the loose population, who find - in the casualties of war, its dangers, rewards and profligate - indulgences, something like a kindred feeling to the war made upon - society by the predatory classes. Hence we find that, when war - ceases, a number of that class of the community are thrown back on - the honest portion of society, which, during the period of war, - had been drained off. Besides this, there are other co-operating - causes. There is the improved police, the constabulary, rural - or metropolitan, who undoubtedly detect many of those offences - which were formerly committed with impunity. There is also the - act of parliament for paying prosecutors and witnesses their - expenses, which led to an increased number of prosecutors in - proportion to the number of crimes actually detected. These - circumstances have, no doubt, exercised a considerable influence - over the increase in the commitments; but after having for 35 - years paid the closest attention to the subject, having filled, - and still filling, a high office in regard to the administration - of the law in the city of London, I am bound to say, that, making - full deduction from the number which every feeling of anxiety - to raise the country from the imputation of increasing in its - criminal character dictates--after making every deduction, I am - bound with shame and humility to acknowledge, that it leaves a - very large amount of increase in the actual, the positive number - of commitments for crime. Sir, this is indeed a humiliating - acknowledgment; but happily the statistics of this country, - in other particulars, warrant us in drawing comfort from the - conviction, that even this fact affords no true representation of - the state of the moral character of the people--no evidence of - their increasing degradation of character or conduct, in anything - like the proportion or degree that those statistics would appear - to show. I appeal to history--I appeal to the recollection of - every man in this assembly, who, like myself, has passed the - meridian of life, whether society has not advanced in morals as - well as in arts, science, and literature, and everything which - tends to improve the social character of the people. Let any man - who has read not our country's history alone, but the tales and - novels of former times--and we must frequently look to them, - rather than to the records of history, for a faithful transcript - of the morals of the age in which they were written,--let any man - recur to the productions of Fielding and of Smollett, and say - whether the habits, manners, and morals of the great masses of our - population are not materially improved within the last century. - Great popular delusions prevail as to the causes of the increase - of commitments for criminal offences in this country, which I deem - it to be my duty to endeavour to dispel. Some ascribe the increase - to the want of instruction of our youth, some to the absence of - religious teaching, some to the increased intemperance, and some - to the increased poverty of the people. I assert that there is no - foundation for the opinions that ascribe the increase of crime to - these causes. If the absence of education were the cause of crime, - surely crime would be found to have diminished since education - has increased. For the purpose of comparing the present and past - state of education, for its influence upon the criminal statistics - of the nation, I will not go back to the time when the single - Bible in the parish was chained to a pillar in the church; or when - the barons affixed their cross to documents, from inability to - write their names. I refer to dates, and times, and circumstances - within our own recollection. In the year 1814 the report of the - National Society says, there were only 100,000 children receiving - the benefit of education. Now there are above 1,000,000 under that - excellent institution, besides the tens of thousands and hundreds - of thousands who are receiving education under the auspices of the - Lancasterian Society Schools. But some may say that the value of - education is not to be estimated by numbers. Well then, I reject - numbers, if you please, and try it by its quality. I ask any man - who listens to me if he does not know that the national schools, - and other gratuitous establishments in this country, now give - privileges in education which children in a respectable condition - of life could hardly obtain, such was the defective state of - instruction in this country, 40 or 50 years ago. (Cheers.) No man, - therefore, can say that the increase of crime is attributable - to the absence of education. If it were so, with education - increased 800 per cent during the last 30 years, crime would have - diminished, instead of increased, 400 per cent."--_Times_, Aug. - 28, 1849. - -The immense _expense_ with which the maintenance of such prodigious -numbers of prisoners in jail is attended, is another most serious -evil, especially in these days of retrenchment, diminished profits, -and economy. From the last Report of the Jail Commissioners for -Scotland--that for 1848--it appears that the average cost of each -prisoner over the whole country for a year, after deducting his -earnings in confinement, is £16, 7s. 6d. As this is the cost after -labour has been generally introduced into prisons, and the greatest -efforts to reduce expense have been made, it may fairly be presumed -that it cannot be reduced lower. The average number of prisoners -constantly in jail in Scotland is now about 3500, which, at £16, -7s. 6d. a-head, will come to about £53,000 a-year.[1] Applying this -proportion to the 60,000 criminals, now on an average constantly -in confinement in the two islands,[2] the annual expense of their -maintenance cannot be under a million sterling. The prison and county -rates of England alone, which include the cost of prosecutions, are -£1,300,000 a-year. But that result, enormous as it is in a country -in which poor-rates and all local burdens are so rapidly augmenting, -is but a part of the evil. Under the present system a thief is -seldom transported, at least in Scotland, till he has been three -or four years plying his trade; during which period his gains by -depredations, and expenses of maintenance, cannot have averaged less -than £25 yearly. Thus it may with safety be affirmed, that every thief -transported from Scotland _has cost the country, before he goes, at -least £100_; and that has been expended in training him up to such -habits of hardened depravity, that he is probably as great a curse -to the colony to which he is sent, as he had proved a burden to that -from which he was conveyed. _Sixteen pounds_ would have been the cost -of his transportation in the outset of his career, when, from his -habits of crime not being matured, he had a fair chance of proving an -acquisition, instead of a curse, to the place of his destination. - -As the question of imprisonment or transportation, so far as Great -Britain and Ireland are concerned, is now settled by the demonstrative -evidence of the return of a reluctant government to the system which -in an evil hour they abandoned, it may seem unnecessary to go into -detail in order to show how absolutely necessary it was to do so; -and how entirely the boasted system of imprisonment, with all its -adjuncts of separation, silence, hard labour, and moral and religious -instruction, has failed either in checking crime, or producing any -visible reformation in the criminals. No one practically acquainted -with the subject ever entertained the slightest doubt that this would -be the case; and in two articles directed to the subject in this -magazine, in 1844, we distinctly foretold what the result would be.[3] -To those who, following in the wake of prelates or philanthropists, -how respectable soever, such as Archbishop Whately, who know -nothing whatever of the subject except from the fallacious evidence -of parliamentary committees, worked up by their own theoretical -imaginations, we recommend the study of the Tables below, compiled -from the parliamentary returns since the imprisonment system began, to -show to what a pass the adoption of their rash visions has brought the -criminal administration of the country.[4] - -It is not surprising that it should be so, and that all the pains -taken, and philanthropy wasted, in endeavouring to reform criminals -in jail in this country, or hindering them from returning to their -old habits when let loose within it, should have proved abortive. -Two reasons of paramount efficacy have rendered them all nugatory. -The first of these is, that the theory regarding the possibility of -reforming offenders when in prison, or suffering punishment in this -country, is wholly erroneous, and proceeds on an entire misconception -of the principles by which alone such a reformation can in any case be -effected. In prison, how solitary soever, you can work only on the -_intellectual_ faculties. The _active_ powers or feelings can receive -no development within the four walls of a cell, for they have no -object by which they can be called forth. But nine-tenths of mankind -in any rank, and most certainly nineteen-twentieths of persons bred as -criminals, are wholly inaccessible to the influence of the intellect, -considered as a restraint or regulator of their passions. If they had -been capable of being influenced in that way, they would never have -become criminals. Persons who fall into the habits which bring them -under the lash of the criminal law, are almost always those in whom, -either from natural disposition, or the unhappy circumstances of early -habits and training, the intellectual faculties are almost entirely in -abeyance, so far as self-control is concerned; and any development they -have is only directed to procuring gratification for, or furthering the -objects of the senses. To address to such persons the moral discipline -of a prison, however admirably conducted, is as hopeless as it would be -to descant to a man born blind on the objects of sight, or to preach to -an ignorant boor in the Greek or Hebrew tongue. Sense is to them all in -all. Esau is the true prototype of this class of men; they are always -ready to exchange their birthright for a mess of pottage. - -No length of solitary confinement, or scarce any amount of moral -or religious instruction, can awaken in them either the slightest -repentance for their crimes, or the least power of self-control when -temptation is again thrown in their way. They regard the period of -imprisonment as a blank in their lives--a time of woful monotony -and total deprivation of enjoyment, which only renders it the more -imperative on them, the moment it is terminated, to begin anew with -fresh zest their old enjoyments. Their first object is to make up -for months of compulsory sobriety by days of voluntary intoxication. -At the close of a short period of hideous _saturnalia_, they are -generally involved in some fresh housebreaking or robbery, to pay for -their long train of indulgence; and soon find themselves again immured -in their old quarters, only the more determined to run through the -same course of forced regularity and willing indulgence. They are -often able to feign reformation, so as to impose on their jailors, -and obtain liberation on pretended amendment of character. But it is -rarely if ever that they are really reclaimed; and hence the perpetual -recurrences of the same characters in the criminal courts; till the -magistrates, tired of imprisoning them, send them to the assizes or -quarter-sessions for transportation. Even then, however, their career -is often far from being terminated in this country. The keepers of the -public penitentiaries become tired of keeping them. When they cannot -send them abroad, their cells are soon crowded; and they take advantage -of a feigned amendment to open the prison doors and let them go. They -are soon found again in their old haunts, and at their old practices. -At the spring circuit held at Glasgow in April 1848, when the effects -of the recent imprisonment mania were visible,--out of 117 ordinary -criminals indicted, no less than _twenty-two_ had been sentenced to -transportation at Glasgow, for periods not less than seven years, -_within the preceding two years_; and the previous conviction and -sentence of transportation was charged as an aggravation of their new -offence against each in the indictment. - -The next reason which renders imprisonment, in an old society and -amidst a redundant population, utterly inefficacious as a means of -reforming criminals is, that, even if they do imbibe better ideas -and principles during their confinement, they find it impossible on -their liberation to get into any honest employment, or gain admission -into any well-doing circle, where they may put their newly-acquired -principles into practice. If, indeed, there existed a government or -parochial institution, into which they might be received on leaving -prison, and by which they might be marched straightway to the nearest -seaport, and there embarked for Canada or Australia, a great step -would be made towards giving them the means of durable reformation. -But as there is none such in existence, and as they scarcely ever are -possessed of money enough, on leaving prison, to carry them across -the Atlantic, they are of necessity obliged to remain in their own -country--and that, to persons in their situation, is certain ruin. -In new colonies, or thinly-peopled countries, such as Australia or -Siberia, convicts, from the scarcity of labour, may in general be -able to find employment; and from the absence of temptation, and the -severance of the links which bound them to their old associates, they -are often there found to do well. But nothing of that sort can be -expected in an old and thickly-peopled country, where the competition -for employment is universal, and masters, having the choice of honest -servants of untainted character, cannot be expected to take persons who -have been convicted of crimes, and exposed to the pollutions of a jail. - -Practically speaking, it is _impossible_ for persons who have been -in jail to get into any honest or steady employment in their own -country; and if they do by chance, or by the ignorance of their -employers of their previous history, get into a situation, it is ere -long discovered, by the associates who come about them, where they -have been, and they speedily lose it. If you ask any person who has -been transported in consequence of repeated convictions, why he did -not take warning by the first, the answer uniformly is, that he could -not get into employment, and was obliged to take to thieving, or -starve. Add to this that the newly-reformed criminal, on leaving jail, -and idling about, half starved, in search of work, of necessity, as -well as from inclination, finds his way back to his old residence, -where his character is known, and he is speedily surrounded by his -old associates, who, in lieu of starving integrity, offer him a life -of joyous and well-fed depravity. It can hardly be expected that -human virtue, and least of all the infant virtue of a newly-reformed -criminal, can withstand so rude a trial. Accordingly, when the author -once asked Mr Brebner, the late governor of the Glasgow bridewell, what -proportion of formed criminals he ever knew to have been reformed by -prison discipline, he answered that the proportion was easily told, -for _he never knew one_. And in the late debate in parliament on -this subject, it was stated by the Home Secretary, Sir George Grey, -that while the prison discipline at Pentonville promised the most -cheering results, it was among those trained there, and _subsequently -transported_, that the improvement was visible; for that no such -results were observed among those who, after liberation, were allowed -to remain in this country. - -But while it is thus proved, both by principle and experience, that the -moral reformation of offenders cannot be effected by imprisonment, even -under the most improved system, in this country, yet, in one respect, -a very great amelioration of the prisoner's habits, and extension of -his powers, is evidently practicable. It is easy _to teach a prisoner -a trade_; and such is the proficiency which is rapidly acquired by the -undivided attention to one object in a jail, that one objection which -has been stated to the imprisonment system is, that it interferes -with the employment of honest industry out of doors. No one can walk -through any of the well-regulated prisons in Great Britain without -seeing that, whatever else you cannot do, it is easy to teach such -a proficiency in trade to the convicts as may render them, if their -depraved inclinations can be arrested, useful members of society, and -give them the means of earning a livelihood by honest industry. Many -of them are exceedingly clever, evince great aptitude for the learning -of handicrafts, and exert the utmost diligence in their prosecution. -Let no man, however, reckon on their reformation, because they are thus -skilful and assiduous: turn them out of prison in this country, and -you will soon see them drinking and thieving with increased alacrity, -from the length of their previous confinement. It is evidently not -intellectual cunning, or manual skill, or vigour in pursuit, which -they in general want--it is the power of directing their faculties to -proper objects, when at large in this country, which they are entirely -without, and which no length of confinement, or amount of moral and -religious instruction communicated in prison, is able to confer upon -them. Here then is one great truth ascertained, by the only sure guide -in such matters--_experience_--that while it is wholly impossible to -give prisoners the power of controlling their passions, or abstaining -from their evil propensities, when at large, by any amount of prison -discipline, it is always not only possible, but easy, to communicate to -them such handicraft skill, or power of exercising trades, as may, the -moment the wicked dispositions are brought under control, render them -useful and even valuable members of society. - -Experience equally proves that, though the moral reformation of -convicts in this country is so rare as, practically speaking, to be -considered as impossible, yet this is very far indeed from being the -case when they are removed to a distant land, where all connexion -with their old associates is at once and for ever broken; where an -honest career is not only open, but easy, to the most depraved, and a -boundless supply of fertile but unappropriated land affords scope for -the exercise of the desire of gain on legitimate objects, and affords -no facilities for the commission of crime, or the acquisition of -property, by the short-hand methods of theft or robbery. Lord Brougham, -in a most able work, which is little known only because it runs counter -to the prejudices of the age, has well explained the causes of this -peculiarity:-- - - "The new emigrants, who at various times continued to flock to - the extensive country of America, were by no means of the same - description with the first settlers. Some of these were the - scourings of jails, banished for their crimes; many of them - were persons of desperate fortunes, to whom every place was - equally uninviting; or men of notoriously abandoned lives, to - whom any region was acceptable that offered them a shelter from - the vengeance of the law, or the voice of public indignation. - But a change of scene will work some improvement upon the most - dissolute of characters. It is much to be removed from the scenes - with which villany has been constantly associated, and the - companions who have rendered it agreeable. It is something to - have the leisure of a long voyage, with its awakening terrors, to - promote reflection. Besides, to regain once more the privilege - of that good name, which every unknown man may claim until he is - tried, presents a powerful temptation to reform, and furnishes - an opportunity of amendment denied in the scenes of exposure and - destruction. If the convicts in the colony of New Holland, though - surrounded on the voyage and in the settlement by the companions - of their iniquities, have in a great degree been reclaimed by - the mere change of scene, what might not be expected from such - a change as we are considering? But the honest acquisition of a - little property, and its attendant importance, is, beyond any - other circumstance, the one most calculated to reform the conduct - of a needy and profligate man, by inspiring him with a respect - for himself and a feeling of his stake in the community, and - by putting a harmless and comfortable life at least within the - reach of his exertions. If the property is of a nature to require - constant industry, in order to render it of any value; if it - calls forth that sort of industry which devotes the labourer to - a solitary life in the open air, and repays him not with wealth - and luxury, but with subsistence and ease; if, in short, it is - property in land, divided into small portions and peopled by - few inhabitants, no combination of circumstances can be figured - to contribute more directly to the reformation of the new - cultivator's character and manners."[5] - -In addition to these admirable observations, it may be stated, as -another, and perhaps the principal reason why transportation, when -conducted on proper principles, is attended with such immediate and -beneficial influences on the moral character of the convict, that it -places him in situations where scope is afforded for the development -of the _domestic and generous affections_. A counterpoise is provided -to self. It is the impossibility of providing such a counterpoise -within the four walls of a cell--the extreme difficulty of finding -it, in any circumstances in which a prisoner can be placed, on his -liberation from jail in his own country, which is the chief cause of -the total failure of all attempts to work a moral reform on prisoners, -when kept at home, by any, even the most approved system of jail -discipline. But that which cannot be obtained at home is immediately, -on transportation, found in the colonies. The criminal is no longer -thrown back on himself in the solitude of a cell--he is not surrounded -by thieves and prostitutes, urging him to resume his old habits, on -leaving it. The female convict, on arriving in New South Wales, is -almost immediately married; ere long the male, if he is industrious -and well-behaved, has the means of being so. Regular habits then come -to supplant dissolute--the natural affections spring up in the heart -with the creation of the objects on which they are to be exercised. The -solitary tenant of a cell--the dissolute frequenter of spirit-cellars -and bagnios, acquires _a home_. The affections of the fireside begin to -spring up, because a fireside is obtained. - -Incalculable is the effect of this change of circumstances on the -character of the most depraved. Accordingly it is mentioned by Mr -Cunningham, in his very interesting _Account of New South Wales_, that -great numbers of young women taken from the streets of London, who have -resisted all efforts of Christian zeal and philanthropy in Magdalene -Asylums or Penitentiaries at home, and embark for New South Wales in -the most shocking state of depravity, become sensibly improved in their -manners, and are not unfrequently entirely reformed by forming, during -the voyage, _temporary connections with sailors_, to whom, when the -choice is once made, they generally remain faithful: so powerful and -immediate is the effect of an approach even to a home, and lasting -ties, on the female heart.[6] The feelings which offspring produces are -never entirely obliterated in the breast of woman. It has been often -observed, that though dissolute females generally, when they remain at -home, find it impossible to reform their own lives, yet they rarely, if -they have the power, fail to bring up their children at a distance from -their haunts of iniquity. So powerful is the love of children, and the -secret sense of shame at their own vices, in the breasts even of the -most depraved of the female sex. - -It has been proved, accordingly, by experience, on the very largest -scale, not only that the reformation of offenders, when transported -to a colony in a distant part of the world, takes place, if they -are preserved _in a due proportion of numerical inferiority to -the untainted population_, to an extent unparalleled in any other -situation; but that, when so regulated, they constitute the _greatest -possible addition to the strength, progress, and riches of a colony_. -From official papers laid before parliament, before the unhappy -crowding of convicts in New South Wales began, and the gang-system was -introduced, it appears that between the years 1800 and 1817--that is, -in seventeen years--out of 17,000 convicts transported to New South -Wales, no less than _six thousand had, at the close of the period, -obtained their freedom from their good conduct, and had earned among -them, by their free labour, property to the amount of £1,500,000_! It -may be safely affirmed that the history of the world does not afford -so astonishing and gratifying an instance of the moral reformation of -offenders, or one pointing so clearly to the true system to be pursued -regarding them. It will be recollected that this reformation took place -when 17,000 convicts were transported in seventeen years--that is, on -an average, 1000 a-year only--and when the gang-system was unknown, and -the convict on landing at Sidney was immediately assigned to a free -colonist, by whom he was forthwith marched up the country into a remote -situation, and employed under his master's direction in rural labour or -occupations. - -And that the colony itself prospers immensely from the forced labour of -convicts being added, _in not too great proportions_, to the voluntary -labour of freemen, is decisively proved by the astonishing progress -which Australia has made during the last fifty years; the degree in -which it has distanced all its competitors in which convict labour -was unknown; and the marvellous amount of wealth and comfort, so much -exceeding upon the whole that known in any other colony, which now -exists among its inhabitants. We say upon the whole, because we are -well aware that in some parts of Australia, particularly Van Diemen's -Land, property has of late years been most seriously depreciated in -value--partly from the monetary crisis, which has affected that -distant settlement as well as the rest of the empire, and partly from -the inordinate number of convicts who have been sent to that one -locality, from the vast increase of crime at home, and the cessations -of transportation to Sidney;--a number which has greatly exceeded the -proper and salutary proportion to freemen, and has been attended with -the most disastrous results. But that the introduction of convicts, -when not too depraved, and kept in due subordination by being in a -_small minority compared to the freemen_, is, so far from being an -evil, the greatest possible advantage to a colony, is decisively proved -by the parliamentary returns quoted below, showing the comparative -progress during a long course of years of Australia, aided by convict -labour, and the Cape of Good Hope and Canada, which have not enjoyed -that advantage. These returns are decisive. They demonstrate that the -progress of the convict colonies, during the last half century, has -been three times as rapid as that of those enjoying equal or greater -advantages, to whom convicts have not been sent; and that the present -state of comforts they enjoy, as measured by the amount per head of -British manufactures they consume, is also triple that of any other -colony who have been kept entirely clear from the supposed stain, but -real advantages, of forced labour.[7] - -Accordingly, the ablest and best-informed statistical writers and -travellers on the Continent, struck with the safe and expeditious -method of getting quit of and reforming its convicts which Great -Britain enjoys, from its numerous colonies in every part of the -world, and the want of which is so severely felt in the Continental -states, are unanimous in considering the possession of such colonies, -and consequent power of unlimited transportation, as one of the very -greatest social advantages which England enjoys. Hear what one of the -most enlightened of those writers, M. Malte-Brun, says on the subject:-- - - "England has long been in the habit of disposing of its wicked - citizens in a way at once philosophic and politic, by sending them - out to cultivate distant colonies. It was thus that the shores - of the Delaware and the Potomac were peopled in America. After - the American war, they were at a loss where to send the convicts, - and the Cape of Good Hope was first thought of; but, on the - recommendation of the learned Sir Joseph Banks, New South Wales - obtained the preference. The first vessel arrived at Botany Bay on - the 20th January 1788, and brought out 760 convicts, and according - to a census taken in 1821, exhibited the following results in - thirty-three years, viz.-- - - Free settlers, men, women - and children 23,254 - Convicts 13,814 - ------ - 37,068" - -In 1832, that population had risen to 40,000 souls.[8] In 1821, there -were in the colony 5000 horses, 120,000 horned cattle, and 350,000 -sheep. It consumed, at that period, 8,500,000 francs' (£340,000) worth -of English manufactures, being about £8, 10s. a-head, and exported to -Europe about £100,000 worth in rude produce. - - "Great division of opinion has existed in France, for a long - course of years, on the possibility of diminishing the frequency - of the punishment of death, as well as that of the galleys; but - a serious difficulty has been alleged in the expense with which - an establishment such as New South Wales would cost. It is worthy - of remark, however, that from 1789 to the end of 1821, England - had expended for the transport, maintenance, and other charges - of 33,155 convicts, transported to New South Wales, £5,301,023, - being _scarce a third_ of what the prisoners would have cost in - the prisons of Great Britain, without having the satisfaction of - having changed into useful citizens those who were the shame and - terror of society. - - "When a vessel with convicts on board arrives in the colony, - the men who are not married in it, are permitted to choose a - wife among the female convicts. At the expiration of his term - of punishment, every convict is at liberty to return to his own - country, at his own expense. If he chooses to remain, he obtains - a grant of land, and provisions for 18 months: if he is married - the allotment is larger, and an adequate portion is allowed for - each child. Numbers are provided with the means of emigration - at the expense of government; they obtain 150 acres of land, - seed-corn, and implements of husbandry. It is worthy of remark - that, thanks to the vigilance of the authorities, the transported - in that colony lose their depraved habits; that the women - become well behaved and fruitful; and that the children do not - inherit the vices of their parents. These results are sufficient - to place the colony of New South Wales _among the most noble - philanthropic institutions in the world_. After that, can any one - ask the expense of the establishment?"--MALTE-BRUN, _Géographie - Universelle_, xii. 194-196. - -But here a fresh difficulty arises. Granting, it will be said, that -transportation is so immense a benefit to the mother country, in -affording a safe and certain vent for its criminals; and to the -colonies, by providing them with so ample a supply of forced labour, -what is to be done when they will not receive it? The colonies are -all up in arms against transportation; not one can be persuaded, -on any terms, to receive these convicts. When a ship with convicts -arrives, they begin talking about separation and independence, and -reminding us of Bunker's Hill and Saratoga. The Cape shows us with -what feelings colonies which have not yet received them view the -introduction of criminals; Van Diemen's Land, how well founded their -apprehensions are of the consequences of such an invasion of civilised -depravity. This difficulty, at first sight, appears not only serious -but insurmountable. On a nearer examination, however, it will be found -that, however formidable it may appear, it could easily be got over; -and that it is entirely owing to the true principles of transportation -having been forgotten, and one of the first duties of government -neglected by our rulers for the last thirty years. - -It is very remarkable, and throws an important light on this question, -that this horror at the influx of convicts, which has now become so -general in the colonies as to render it almost impossible to find a -place where they can with safety be landed, is entirely of _recent_ -origin. It never was heard of till within the last fifteen or twenty -years. Previous to that time, and even much later, transportation was -not only regarded by the penal colonies without aversion, but with the -utmost possible complacency. They looked to a series of heavy assizes -in Great Britain with the same feelings of anxious solicitude, as the -working classes do to a good harvest, or the London tradesman to a -gay and money-spending season. Spirits never were so high in Sidney, -speculation never so rife, property never so valuable, profits never so -certain, as when the convict ships arrived well stored with compulsory -emigrants. If any one doubts this, let him open the early numbers of -the _Colonial Magazine_, and he will find them filled with resolutions -of public meetings in New South Wales, recounting the immense -advantages the colony had derived from the forced labour of convicts, -and most earnestly deprecating any intermission in their introduction. -As a specimen, we subjoin a series of resolutions, by the Governor -and Council of New South Wales, on a petition agreed to, at a public -meeting held in Sidney, on 18th February 1838. - - _Resolutions of the Legislative Council, New South Wales, 17th - July 1838._ - - 4. _Resolved._--That, in opinion of this council, the numerous - free emigrants of character and capital, including many officers - of the army and navy, and East India Company's service, who have - settled in this colony, with their families, together with a - rising generation of native-born subjects, constitute a body of - colonists who, in the exercise of the social and moral relations - of life, are not inferior to the inhabitants of any other - dependency of the British crown, and are sufficient to impress a - character of respectability upon the colony at large. - - 5. _Resolved._--That, in the opinion of this council, the rapid - and increasing advance of this colony, in the short space of - fifty years from its first establishment, in rural, commercial, - and financial prosperity, proves indisputably the activity, - the enterprise, and industry of the colonists, and is wholly - incompatible with the state of society represented to exist here. - - 6. _Resolved._--That, in the opinion of this council, the strong - desire manifested by the colonists generally, to obtain moral and - religious instruction, and the liberal contributions, which have - been made from private funds, towards this most essential object, - abundantly testify that the advancement of virtue and religion - amongst them is regarded with becoming solicitude. - - 7. _Resolved._--That, in the opinion of this council, if - transportation and assignment have hitherto failed to produce all - the good effects anticipated by their projectors, such failure - may be traced to circumstances, many of which are no longer in - existence, whilst others are in rapid progress of amendment. - Amongst the most prominent causes of failure may be adduced the - absence, at the first establishment of the colony, of adequate - religious and moral instruction, and the want of proper means of - classification in the several gaols throughout the colony, as well - as of a sufficient number of free emigrants, properly qualified to - become the assignees of convicts, and to be intrusted with their - management and control. - - 8. _Resolved._--That, in the opinion of this council, the great - extension which has latterly been afforded of moral and religious - instruction, the classification which may in future be made in the - numerous gaols now in progress of erection, upon the most approved - principles of inspection and separation, the most effectual - punishment and classification of offenders in ironed gangs, - according to their improved system of management--the numerous - free emigrants now eligible as the assignees of convicts, and - the accumulated experience of half a century--form a combination - of circumstances, which renders the colony better adapted at the - present, than at any former period, to carry into effect the - praiseworthy intentions of the first founders of the system of - transportation and assignment, which had no less for its object - reformation of character than a just infliction of punishment. - - 9. _Resolved._--That, in the opinion of this council, no system - of penal discipline, or secondary punishment, will be found at - once so cheap, so effective, and so reformatory, as that of - well-regulated assignment--the good conduct of the convict, and - his continuance at labour, being so obviously the interest of the - assignee; whilst the partial solitude and privations, incidental - to a pastoral or agricultural life in the remote districts of the - colony, (which may be made the universal employment of convicts,) - by effectually breaking a connexion with companions and habits of - vice, is better calculated than any other system to produce moral - reformation, when accompanied by adequate religious instruction. - - 10. _Resolved._--That, in the opinion of this council, many men - who, previously to their conviction, had been brought up in habits - of idleness and vice, have acquired, by means of assignment, - not only habits of industry and labour, but the knowledge of a - remunerative employment, which, on becoming free, forms a strong - inducement to continue in an honest course of life. - - 11. _Resolved._--That, in the opinion of this council, the sudden - discontinuance of transportation and assignment, by depriving the - colonists of convict labour, must necessarily curtail their means - of purchasing crown lands, and, consequently, the supply of funds - for the purpose of immigration. - - 12. _Resolved._--That, in the opinion of this council, the produce - of the labour of convicts, in assignment, is thus one of the - principal, though indirect means, of bringing into the colony - free persons: it is obvious, therefore, that the continuance of - emigration in any extended form, must necessarily depend upon the - continuance of the assignment of convicts.[9] - -It is not surprising that they viewed, at this period, the -transportation system in this light; for under it they had made -advances in population, comfort, and riches, unparalleled in any other -age or country of the world. - -How, then, has it happened that so great a change has come over the -views of the colonists on this subject; and that the system which -they formerly regarded, with reason, as the sheet-anchor of their -prosperity, is now almost universally looked to with unqualified -aversion, as the certain forerunner of their destruction? The answer -is easy. It is because transportation, as formerly conducted, _was -a blessing_, and because, as conducted of late years, it _has -become a curse_, that the change of opinion has arisen in regard to -it. The feelings of the colonists, in both cases, were founded on -experience--both were, in the circumstances in which they arose, -equally well founded, and both were therefore equally entitled to -respect and attention. We have only to _restore the circumstances_ in -which the convicts were a blessing, to revive the times in which their -arrival will be regarded as a boon. And to effect this, can easily be -shown not only to be attended with no difficulty, but only to require -the simultaneous adoption by government of a system of punishment -at home, and of voluntary emigration at the public expense abroad, -attended with a very trifling expense, and calculated to relieve, -beyond any other measure that could by possibility be devised, the -existing distress among the labouring classes of Great Britain and -Ireland. - -To render the introduction of penal labour into a colony an advantage, -three things are necessary. 1st, that the convicts sent out should be -for the most part instructed in some simple rural art or occupation, -of use in the country into which they are to be transplanted. 2d, that -they should in general be _beginners in crime_, and a small number of -them only hardened in depravity. 3d, what is most important of all, -that they should be preserved in a _due proportion_, never exceeding -_a fourth or a fifth_ to the free and untainted settlers. Under these -conditions, their introduction will always prove a blessing, and will -be hailed as a boon. If they are neglected, they will prove a curse, -and their arrival be regarded as a punishment. - -Various circumstances have contributed, of late years, to render the -convict system a dreadful evil, instead of, as formerly, a signal -benefit to the colonies. But that affords no ground for despair; on the -contrary, it furnishes the most well-grounded reason for hope. We are -suffering under the effects of an erroneous regimen, not any inherent -malady in the patient. Change this treatment, and his health will soon -return. - -It is well known that the greatest pains have of _late years_ been -taken, in this country, to instruct prisoners in jail in some -useful handicraft; and that, so far has this been carried, that our -best-regulated jails are more in fact great houses of industry. The -general penitentiary at Pentonville, in particular, where the convicts -sentenced to transportation are trained, previous to their removal to -the penal settlements, is a perfect model of arrangement and attention -in this important respect. But it is equally well known that it is only -of _late_ years that this signal reform has come into operation; and -we have the satisfaction of knowing that already its salutary effects -have been evinced, in the most signal manner, with the convicts sent -abroad. Previous to the year 1840, scarcely anything was done on any -considerable scale, either to teach ordinary prisoners trades in jail, -to separate them from each other, or to prepare them, in the public -penitentiaries, for the duties in which they were to be engaged, -when they arrived at their distant destination. The county jails, -now resounding with the clang of ceaseless occupation, pursued by -prisoners in their separate cells, then only re-echoed the din of riot -and revelling in the day-rooms where the idle prisoners were huddled -together, and beguiled the weary hours of their captivity by stories -of perpetrated crime, or plans for its renewal the moment they got out -of confinement. But the ideas of men are all formed on the experience -of facts, or the thoughts driven into them, for a considerable time -back. The present universal horror at transportation is founded on the -experience of the prisoners with which, for a quarter of a century, New -South Wales had been flooded, from the idle day-rooms or profligate -hulks of Great Britain. Some years must elapse before the effects of -the improved discipline received, and laborious habits acquired, in the -jails and penitentiaries of the mother country, produces any general -effect on public opinion in its distant colonies. - -The relaxation of the severity of our penal code at home, during the -last thirty years, however loudly called for by considerations of -justice and humanity, has undoubtedly had a most pernicious influence -on the _class of convicts_ who have, during that period, been sent to -the colonies. In so far as that change of system has diminished the -frequency of the infliction of the punishment of death, and limited, -practically speaking, that dreadful penalty to cases of wilful and -inexcusable murder, it must command the assent of every benevolent and -well-regulated mind. But, unfortunately, the change has not stopped -there. It has descended through every department of our criminal -jurisprudence, and come in that way to alter much for the worse _the -class of criminals_ who of late years have been sent to the penal -colonies. The men who were formerly hanged are now for the most part -transported; those formerly transported are now imprisoned; and those -sent abroad have almost all, on repeated occasions, been previously -confined, generally for a very long period. As imprisonment scarcely -ever works any reformation on the _moral_ character or habits of a -prisoner, whatever improved skill in handicraft it may put into his -fingers, this change has been attended with most serious and pernicious -effect on the character of the convicts sent to the colonies, and gone -far to produce the aversion with which they are now everywhere regarded. - -It has been often observed, by those practically acquainted with the -working of the transportation system in the colonies, that the Irish -convicts were generally the best, and the Scotch, beyond all question, -the worst who arrived. This peculiarity, so widely different from, in -fact precisely the reverse of, what has been observed of the _free_ -settlers from these respective countries, in every part of the world, -has frequently been made the subject of remark, and excited no little -surprise. But the reason of it is evident, and, when once stated, -perfectly satisfactory. The Scotch law, administered almost entirely by -professional men, and on fixed principles, has long been based on the -principle of transporting persons only who were deemed irreclaimable in -this country. Very few have been sent abroad for half a century, from -Scotland, who had not either committed some very grave offence, or -been four or five times, often eight or ten times, previously convicted -and imprisoned. In Ireland, under the moderate and lenient sway of -Irish county justices, a poacher was often transported who had merely -been caught with a hare tucked up under his coat. Whatever we may think -of the justice of such severe punishments for trivial offences, in the -first instance, there can be but one opinion as to its tendency to -lead a much better class of convicts from the Emerald Isle, than the -opposite system did from the shores of Caledonia. Very probably, also, -the system of giving prisoners "repeated opportunities of amendment," -as it is called in this country--but which, in fact, would be more -aptly styled "renewed opportunities for depravity"--has, from good but -mistaken motives, been carried much too far in Scotland. Be this as it -may, nothing is more certain than that the substitution of a race of -repeatedly convicted and hardened offenders, under the milder system -of punishment in Great Britain, during the last twenty years, for one -comparatively uninitiated in crime, such as were formerly sent out, has -had a most pernicious effect on the character of the convicts received -in the colonies, and the sentiments with which their arrival was -regarded. - -But by far the most powerful cause, which has been in operation for -above a quarter of a century, in destroying the beneficial effects -of the system of transportation, and substituting the worst possible -consequences in their stead, has been the sending out of convicts _in -too great a proportion to the free population_, and the consequent -necessity for substituting the _gang for the assignment system_. This -is a matter of the very highest, indeed of paramount importance; and -it may safely be affirmed that, unless a remedy is found for it, all -efforts made to render the system of transportation palatable to the -colonies will prove nugatory. Fortunately the means of remedying -that evil are not only easy, but, comparatively speaking, cheap, -and perfectly efficacious; and they promise, while they remedy the -above-mentioned evil, to confer, in other respects, signal benefits -both on the colonies and the mother country. - -New South Wales was originally selected, and not without sufficient -reasons, as the place for the establishment of penal colonies, -because the distance of it from the mother country, and the length of -the voyage, rendered it a very difficult matter either for runaway -convicts, or those who had served their time, to get home again. Once -sent out, you were, in the great majority of cases, clear of them for -ever. This circumstance was no disadvantage, but rather the reverse, to -the colony, and certainly a very great advantage to the parent state, -as long as the number of convicts annually sent out was inconsiderable, -and the whole convict population formed a small minority to the number -of free settlers. When the whole number committed a-year in England was -4500, and in Scotland under 100, as it was in Great Britain in 1804 or -1805, the settlement of convicts on the distant shores of Australia -worked well. They were glad to get the 300 or 400 annually sent out; -they were benefited by their forced labour; and the free settlers -were in sufficient numbers to keep them with ease in subjection, and -prevent their habits from contaminating those of the free inhabitants -of the colony. But when the commitments from Great Britain and Ireland -had risen to 50,000 or 60,000 a-year, and the convicts sent out to -3000 or 4000 annually, as they have done for some years past, the case -was entirely altered. The polluted stream became much too large and -powerful for the land it was intended to fertilise; it did more harm -than good, and became the object of uniform and undisguised aversion. - -The _distance_ of Australia from the mother country, which formerly had -been so great an advantage to both parties, now became the greatest -possible evil; because it prevented, at the time this great influx -of convicts was going on, the immigration of freemen from preserving -anything like a due proportion to it. When the convicts rose to 2000 -and 3000 yearly, the free settlers should have been raised to 8000 or -10,000 annually. This would have kept all right; because the tainted -population would have been always in a small minority compared to the -virtuous; order would have been preserved by the decided majority of -the well-disposed; and the assignment system, the parent of so much -good, still rendered practicable by the ceaseless extension of free -settlers in the wilds of nature. But the distance of Australia rendered -this impracticable, when the emigration of freemen was left to its own -unaided resources. Steam navigation contributed powerfully to throw it -into the back-ground for all but the very highest class of emigrants. -The voyage to Australia is one of fourteen thousand miles; it takes -from five to six months, must still be performed by sailing vessels, -and costs about £16 a-head for the ordinary class of emigrants. That -to America is one of three thousand miles; it takes from a fortnight -to three weeks, is performed by great numbers of steam as well as -sailing vessels, and costs from £3 to £4 a-head for the same class of -passengers.[10] - -These facts are decisive, and must always continue so, against the -choice of Australia, as the place of their destination, by the great -bulk of ordinary emigrants. Several young men of good family, indeed, -tempted by the high profits generally made there in the wool trade, and -the boundless facilities for the multiplication of flocks which its -prairies afforded, have settled there, and some have done well. But of -ordinary labourers, and persons to do the work of common workmen, there -has always been felt a very great deficiency, for this simple reason, -that they could not afford the expense of the voyage. The settlers were -almost entirely of the better class, and they were in no proportion at -all to the number of the convicts. This distinctly appears, not only -from the extravagant wages paid to shepherds and common labourers, -generally not less than five or six shillings a-day, but from the very -limited number of emigrants, even during the distress of the last -three years, when the voluntary emigration had reached two hundred and -fifty thousand annually from the British islands, who have gone to our -colonies in New South Wales.[11] - -This unhappy turn of affairs has been attended with a double -disadvantage. In the first place, the vast increase in the number -of convicts sent to Sydney, compared with the small number of free -settlers, has for a long time past rendered the continuance of the -assignment system impossible; and _the gang system_, to take off and -embody the surplus numbers, became in a manner a matter of necessity. -The manners of the colony, its habits, its prospects, its morality, -have been seriously damaged by this change. The emancipated convicts -who have made money, known by the name of "canary birds," have pressed -upon the heels, and come to excite the jealousy, of the free settlers. -The accumulation of convicts in the lower walks of life has checked the -immigration of free labour, perpetuated the frightful inequality of the -sexes, and led to the most lamentable disorders. The gang system, of -necessity introduced, because free settlers did not exist to take the -convicts off under the assignment system, perpetuated in the colony the -vices of the hulks, the depravity of the galleys. The whole benefits of -transportation to the convicts, their whole chances of amendment, are -lost, when, instead of being sent to rural labour in the solitude of -the woods and the prairies, they are huddled together, in gangs of four -or five hundred, without hope to counterbalance evil propensities, or -inducement to resist the seduction of mutual bad example. These evils -were so sensibly felt, and led to such energetic representations to the -government at home, that at length the colony was pacified, but at the -same time its progress checked, by an order in council in 1837, that -no more convicts, for a limited time, should be sent to Sydney or its -dependencies. - -But this only shifted the seat of the evil, and augmented its -intensity. The convicts, now swelled to above four thousand a-year, -could not be kept at home; they required to be sent somewhere, and -where was that place to be? Van Diemen's Land was selected, being the -most southernly portion of New Holland, and of course the farthest -removed from this country; and thither nearly the _whole convicts_ of -Great Britain and Ireland, soon above thirty-five hundred annually -in number, were sent for several years. The consequence of this -prodigious influx of criminals into an infant colony, so far removed -from the parent state that it cost £20 a-head to send a common labourer -there--and of course no free emigration in proportionate numbers could -be expected without public aid--might easily have been anticipated. -Government did nothing to encourage the simultaneous settlement of -free settlers in that distant land, thus flooded with convicts, or so -little as amounted to nothing. The consequence was, that, ere long, -_three-fifths_ of the inhabitants of the colony were convicts. Every -one knows, none could have failed to anticipate the consequences. The -morals of the settlement, thus having a majority of its inhabitants -convicts, were essentially injured. Crimes unutterable were committed; -the hideous inequality of the sexes induced its usual and frightful -disorders; the police, how severe and vigilant soever, became unable -to coerce the rapidly-increasing multitude of criminals; the most -daring fled to the woods, where they became bush-rangers; life became -insecure; property sank to half its former value. So powerful, and -evidently well-founded, were the representations made on the subject to -the legislature, that it became evident that a remedy must be applied; -and this was done by an order in council in 1844, which suspended -entirely for two years the transportation of _male_ convicts to the -colonies. That of females was still and most properly continued, in the -hope that, by doing so, the inequality of the sexes in Australia might -in some degree be corrected. - -But this measure, like all the rest, not being founded on the right -principle, has entirely failed. The accumulation of offenders in the -British islands, from the stoppage of the usual vent by which they were -formerly carried off, soon became insupportable. The jails were crowded -to suffocation; it was ere long found to be necessary to liberate many -persons, transported seven years, at the expiration of two, to make way -for new inmates. The liberated convicts were soon back in their old -haunts, and at their old practices; and the great increase of _serious_ -crimes, such as robberies, burglaries, and murders, demonstrated that -the public morals in the great towns were rapidly giving way, under the -influence of that worst species of criminals--returned convicts. The -judges both of Great Britain and Ireland, in common with every person -practically acquainted with the subject, and who had daily proofs, -in the discharge of their important official duties, of the total -failure of the imprisonment system, were unanimous in recommending a -return to transportation. All the temporary expedients adopted, such -as Gibraltar, Bermuda, &c., soon failed from the rapid increase of -convicts, who greatly exceeded all the means left of taking them off. -Government became convinced that they had made a step in the wrong -direction; and they most wisely took counsel from experience, and -determined to resume the practice of sending convicts abroad. But, on -the threshold of the renewed attempt, they were met by the refusal -of the colonies to take them. The Cape is almost in rebellion on the -subject; and in despair of finding a willing colony, it is said they -have in contemplation to send them to be roasted under the White -Cliffs, and increase the already redundant population of Malta. - -It is not necessary to do any such thing. The solution of the -transportation question is easy, the method to be followed perfectly -efficacious. Government have only _to commence the discharge_ of -one of their most important social duties to get rid of all their -difficulties, and render the immigration of criminals, as it was -in time past, as great a blessing to the colonies, and as ardently -desired, as of late years it has been a curse, and earnestly deprecated. - -Transportation is a blessing to a colony when the convicts are kept -in a minority, perhaps in a fourth or a fifth of the community to -which they are sent, and when they are not hardened in crime, and all -instructed in some useful trade. In such circumstances, they are the -greatest possible addition to its strength, riches, and progress, and -will always be gladly received. - -Transportation is a curse when the convicts sent out are so numerous, -and the free settlers so few, that the former forms a large proportion -of the community compared to the latter, and when their habits are -those of hardened irreclaimable criminals, instead of youthful novices -in crime. If they become a majority, certain ruin may be anticipated to -the colony thus flooded with crime. - -The difficulties which now beset the transportation question have all -arisen from our having pursued a course, of late years, which rendered -the settlement of convicts a curse instead of a blessing, as it was -at first, when the system was directly the reverse. To render it a -blessing again, we have only to restore the circumstances which made -it so formerly--sending out the convicts when not completely hardened -in depravity, and in such a proportion to the free settlers as to -keep them a _small minority_ to the free and untainted part of the -community. The immigration of convicts to our colonies is like that of -the Irish into western Britain: everything depends on the proportion -they bear to the remainder of the population. They are very useful if -a fourth; they can be borne if they are a third; but let them become -a majority, and they will soon land the country in the condition of -Skibbereen or Connemara. - -We cannot diminish the numbers of convicts transported; on the -contrary, woful results have made us aware that it should be materially -increased. Experience has taught us, also, that voluntary unaided -emigration cannot enable the free settlers in Australia to keep pace -with the rapid increase of crime in the British islands. What, then, -is to be done? The answer is simple: Discharge in part the vast duty, -so long neglected by government, of providing, at the public expense, -for the emigration of a certain portion of the _most indigent_ part of -the community, who cannot get abroad on their own resources, and SETTLE -THEM IN THE SAME COLONY WITH THE CONVICTS. Do this, and the labour -market is lightened at home; the convicts are kept in a small minority -abroad; the colony, thus aided by the combined virtue and penal labour -of the mother country, is secured of prosperity and rapid progress; and -its rate of increase will soon induce the other colonies to petition -for a share of the prolific stream. - -At present, there are, or at least should be, above 5000 criminals -annually transported from the British islands.[12] The cost of settling -a free labourer in Australia is about £16 a-head. To send 16,000 free -labourers with these 5000 criminals would cost just £256,000 a-year: -call it £300,000 yearly, to make room for the probable increase of -criminals, from the growing necessities or depravity of the mother -country, and provide for the extra and unavoidable expenses of an -infant establishment, and the transportation question is at once -solved, a great relief is afforded to the distressed labourers of the -parent state, and a certain market for our manufactures provided, -which will double every two or three years, as long as the system is -continued. - -Let government, by an order in council, propose these terms to the -colonies, and we shall see if any of them will refuse them. If none -will close with them, let them at once establish a new colony on these -principles, in some unoccupied part of New Holland. In twelve months, -there will be a race for who is to get a share of the fertilising -stream. Sixteen thousand free settlers, and five or six thousand -convicts, annually sent to any colony, would cause its numbers to -double every two, and its prosperity to triple in value every three -years. Everything would go on in a geometrical progression. It would -soon rival California in progress and reputation. Capital would rapidly -follow this scene of activity and progress. Moneyed men are not slow -in discovering where labour is plentiful and comparatively cheap, and -where their investments are doubled in amount and value every two or -three years. A colony thus powerfully supported by the parent state -would soon distance all its competitors: while the Cape, New Zealand, -and Australia were slumbering on with a population doubling every ten -years, from the tardy and feeble support of free emigrants on their -own resources, the establishment thus protected would double in two -or three. Voluntary emigrants would crowd to the scene of activity, -progress, and opulence. The 20,000 persons annually sent out would -immediately become consumers of our manufactures to the extent of -£150,000 a-year:[13] and this rate would be doubled the very next -year! At the end of five or six years, it would amount to £800,000 or -£900,000 annually. What a relief at once to the manufacturers of Great -Britain, now labouring so severely under the combined effect of foreign -competition and a declining home market, and the starving peasantry of -Ireland, where half a million of stout labourers--admirable workmen -in a foreign country, though wretched ones in their own--are pining -in hopeless destitution, a burden upon their parishes, or flocking in -ruinous multitudes to Liverpool and Glasgow. - -But where is the £300,000 to come from? The Chancellor of the Exchequer -has no money; taxation has reached its limits; and loans are out of -the question. What! have free trade and a restricted currency, then, -so quickly prostrated the resources of the country, that the nation -which, in 1813, with eighteen millions of inhabitants, at the close -of a twenty years' costly war, raised £72,000,000 by taxation, and -£80,000,000 by loan, cannot now, with thirty millions, for so very -important an object, after thirty-three years of unbroken peace, muster -up £300,000 a-year? A shilling a gallon on the 6,259,000 gallons of -whisky annually consumed in _Scotland alone_, in demoralising the -community, would provide the requisite sum, and tend to equalise the -ruinous exemption which Scotland now enjoys in the manufacture of that -attractive and pernicious liquor. A similar duty on the 12,000,000 -gallons annually consumed in England, would raise double the sum. But -if government, despite the £100,000,000 we were promised by free trade, -cannot afford £300,000 a-year for this vital object, let it be laid on -the counties as part of the prison or county rates. A little reflection -would soon show every person of sense in the country, that its amount -could speedily be saved in prison and poor rates. - -Simultaneously with this change, an alteration, equally loudly called -for, should take place in the administration of our criminal law at -home. The present system of inflicting short imprisonments at first, -and reserving long imprisonments and transportation for criminals who -have plied their trade of pillage for two or three years, should be -abolished. Imprisonment should consist of three kinds:--1. A very -short imprisonment, perhaps of a week or ten days, for the youngest -criminals and a first trifling offence, intended to terrify merely. 2. -For a second offence, however trivial--or a first, if considerable, -and indicating an association with professional thieves--a long -imprisonment of _nine months or a year_, sufficient _to teach every -one a trade_, should invariably be inflicted. 3. The criminal who -has been thus imprisoned, and taught a trade, should, when next -convicted, be _instantly transported_. In this way a triple advantage -would be gained. 1. The immense number of prisoners now constantly -in confinement in the British islands would be materially lessened, -and the prison-rates proportionally relieved. 2. The cost of now -maintaining a convict in one of the public penitentiaries, to prepare -him for transportation, not less than £17 or £18, would be almost -entirely saved; he would be prepared for it, in the great majority -of cases, by his previous imprisonment. 3. The character and habits -of the convicts sent out would be materially improved, by getting -comparatively young and untainted men for penal labour, instead of -old offenders, who have learned no other trade than that of thieving. -To the country it would undoubtedly save £60 or £80 on each criminal -transported, by removing him at the commencement of his career, when -his reformation was possible, instead of waiting till its close, when -he had lived for three or four years in flash-houses and prisons at -the public expense, paid in depredations or prison rates, and acquired -nothing but habits which rendered any change of character abroad -difficult, if not impossible. The prisons would become, instead of mere -receptacles of vice, great houses of industry, where the most dangerous -and burdensome part of our population would be trained for a life of -industry and utility in the colonies. - -For a similar reason, the great object in poor-houses, houses of -refuge, hospitals, and other institutions where the destitute poor -children are maintained at the public expense, or that of foundations -bequeathed by the piety of former times, should be to prepare the -young of both sexes, by previous education, for the habits and duties -of colonists; and, when they become adults, to _send them abroad at -the expense of the public or the institution_. Incalculable would be -the blessings which would ensue, both to the public morals and the -public expenditure, from the steady adoption of this principle. It -is a lamentable fact, well known to all practically acquainted with -this subject, that a large proportion of the orphan or destitute boys, -educated in this manner at the public expense, in public institutions, -become thieves, and nearly all the girls prostitutes. It could not -be otherwise with young creatures of both sexes, turned out without -a home, relation, or friend, shortly after the age of puberty, into -the midst of an old and luxurious community, overloaded with labour, -abounding in snares, thickly beset with temptations. Removed to -Australia, the Cape, or Canada, they might do well, and would prove as -great a blessing in those colonies, where labour is dear, women wanted, -and land boundless, as they are a burden here, where labour is cheap, -women redundant, and land all occupied. Every shilling laid out in the -training the youth of both sexes in such situations, for the duties of -colonial life, and sending them to it when adults, would save three in -future prison or poor rates. A pauper or criminal, costing the nation -£15 or £20 a-year, would be converted into an independent man living on -his labour, and consuming £7 or £8 worth yearly of the manufactures of -his native country. - -The number of emigrants who now annually leave the British shores, is -above 250,000![14] No such migration of mankind is on record since -the days when the Goths and Vandals overthrew the Roman empire, and -settled amidst its ruins. It might naturally have been supposed that -so prodigious a removal of persons, most of them in the prime of -life, would have contributed in a material degree to lighten the -market of labour, and lessen the number of persons who, by idleness or -desperation, are thrown into habits of crime. But the result has been -just the reverse; and perhaps nothing has contributed so powerfully to -increase crime, and augment destitution among the labouring classes -of late years, as this very emigration. The reason is evident. It is -for the most part _the wrong class which has gone abroad_. It is the -employer, not the employed; the holders of little capitals, not the -holders of none. Left to its own unaided resources, emigration could -be undertaken only by persons possessed of some funds to pay their -passage. It took £100 to transport a family to Australia; £20 or £30 -to America. The destitute, the insolvent, the helpless, could not get -away, and they fell in overwhelming and crushing multitudes on the -parish funds, county rates, and charity of the benevolent at home. -Labour became everywhere redundant, because so many of the employers -of labour had gone away. The grand object for all real lovers of their -country now, should be to induce government or the counties to provide -means for the emigration, on a large scale, of destitute _labourers_, -chained by their poverty to the soil. About 150,000 persons have -annually emigrated from Ireland for the last three years, carrying -with them above half its agricultural capital; and the consequence is, -that in many districts the land is uncultivated, _and the banknotes -in circulation, which, in 1846, were £7,500,000, have sunk in August -1849 to £3,833,000_![15] The small cultivators, the employers of the -poor, have disappeared, and with them their capital--leaving only -to the owners of land a crowd of starving, unemployed labourers, to -consume their rents. A million of such starving labourers now oppress -the industry of Ireland. Such is the result of agitation at home, and -free trade in emigration abroad. The American papers tell us, that -each of these starving Irishmen, if strong and healthy, is worth 1000 -dollars to the United States. Free-trade emigration can never send them -out--it can transport only those who can pay. A large increase of penal -emigration, coupled with such a proportionate influx, at the public -expense, of free settlers, as would prevent it from becoming an evil, -at once solves the transportation question, and is the first step in -the right direction in that of Emigration. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] _Prison Report 1848_, p. 73. - -[2] In 1848, the number committed for serious offences was 73,770. - -[3] See the "Increase of Crime, and Imprisonment, and Transportation," -_Blackwood's Magazine_, May and July 1844, vol. lv. p. 532, and vol. -lvi. p. 1. - -[4] Table showing the number of commitments for serious offences in the -undermentioned years in England, Scotland, and Ireland:-- - - |Years. | England. | Scotland. | Ireland. | Total. | - +-------+----------+-----------+-----------+--------+ - | 1837 | 23,612 | 3,126 | 24,804 | 51,542 | - | 1838 | 23,094 | 3,418 | 25,723 | 52,235 | - | 1839 | 24,443 | 3,409 | 26,392 | 54,244 | - | 1840 | 27,187 | 3,872 | 23,833 | 54,892 | - | 1841 | 27,760 | 3,562 | 20,776 | 52,118 | - | 1842 | 31,309 | 4,189 | 21,186 | 56,684 | - | 1843 | 29,591 | 3,615 | 20,126 | 53,332 | - | 1844 | 26,542 | 3,577 | 19,448 | 49,565 | - | 1845 | 24,309 | 3,537 | 16,696 | 44,542 | - | 1846 | 25,107 | 2,901 | 18,492 | 46,500 | - | 1847 | 28,833 | 4,635 | 31,209 | 64,677 | - | 1848 | 30,349 | 4,909 | 38,522* | 73,770 | - - --_Parliamentary Returns_, 1842-8. - -* Irish Rebellion. - - - -[5] BROUGHAM'S _Colonial Policy_, i. 61, 62. - -[6] CUNNINGHAM'S _New South Wales_, i. 262. - -[7] Table showing the annual exports of British manufactures to the -undermentioned Colonies, from 1828 to 1846. - - | | Canada, &c. | The Cape, | Australia, | - |Years.| Without Convicts. | Without Convicts. | With Convicts.| - +------+ | | | - |1828 | £1,691,044 | £218,849 | £443,839 | - |1829 | 1,581,723 | 257,501 | 310,681 | - |1830 | 1,857,133 | 330,036 | 314,677 | - |1831 | 2,089,327 | 257,245 | 398,471 | - |1832 | 2,075,725 | 292,405 | 466,328 | - |1833 | 2,092,550 | 346,197 | 558,372 | - |1834 | 1,671,069 | 304,382 | 716,014 | - |1835 | 2,158,158 | 326,921 | 696,345 | - |1836 | 2,732,291 | 482,315 | 835,637 | - |1837 | 2,141,035 | 488,811 | 921,568 | - |1838 | 1,992,457 | 623,323 | 1,336,662 | - |1839 | 3,047,671 | 464,130 | 1,679,390 | - |1840 | 2,847,913 | 417,091 | 2,004,385 | - |1841 | 2,947,061 | 384,574 | 1,269,351 | - |1842 | 2,333,525 | 369,076 | 916,164 | - |1843 | 1,751,211 | 502,577 | 1,211,815 | - |1844 | 3,076,861 | 420,151 | 744,482 | - |1845 | 3,555,954 | 648,749 | 1,201,076 | - |1846 | 3,308,059 | 480,979 | 1,441,640 | - - --PORTER'S _Parliamentary Tables_, 1846, p. 121. - - Exports, per head, to the following countries in 1836. - - | | | |Proportion| - | | Population. | Exports. | per head.| - | | +-------------+----------+ - |United States of America, | 14,000,000 | £12,425,605 | £0 17 6 | - |Canada, &c., | 1,500,000 | 2,739,291 | 1 16 0 | - |British West India Islands, | 900,000 | 3,786,453 | 3 12 0 | - |Australia, | 100,000 | 835,637 | 8 14 0 | - - --PORTER'S _Parliamentary Tables_. - - - -[8] It now (1849) exceeds 200,000 souls. - -[9] _Colonial Magazine_, i. 431, 433. - -[10] While we write these lines, the following advertisement, which -appeared in the _Times_ of Oct. 10, will illustrate this vital -difference:-- - -"EMIGRATION.--The undersigned are prepared to forward intending -emigrants to every colony now open for colonisation, at the following -rates of passage-money:--To Sydney, £15; Melbourne, £15; Adelaide, -£15; Swan River, £20; Van Diemen's Land, £20; New Zealand, £18; Cape -of Good Hope, £10; Natal, £10; California, £25; New York, £2, 10s.; -Philadelphia, £2, 10s.; New Orleans, £3.--HARRISON & CO.--_11 Union -Street, Birmingham._" - -[11] Emigrants from Great Britain and Ireland to Australia and New -Zealand:-- - - 1830, 1,242 1836, 3,124 1842, 8,534 - 1831, 1,561 1837, 5,054 1843, 3,478 - 1832, 3,733 1838, 14,021 1844, 2,229 - 1833, 4,093 1839, 15,726 1845, 830 - 1834, 2,800 1840, 15,850 1846, 2,227 - 1835, 1,860 1841, 32,625 - ---PORTER'S _Parliamentary Tables_, 1846, p. 236. - -[12] Sentenced to be transported-- - - England. Scotland. Ireland. Total. - 1846, 2805 352 753 3810 - 1847, 2896 456 2185 5537 - 1848, 3251 459 2678* 6388 - - * Rebellion. - ---_Parliamentary Returns_, 1846-8. - -[13] At the rate of £7, 14s. a-head--the present rate in Australia. - -[14] Viz.:--1847, 258,000; 1848, 248,000; 1849, understood to be still -larger.--_Parliamentary Reports._ - -[15] See _Dublin University Magazine_, October 1849, p. 372. - - - - -MY PENINSULAR MEDAL. - -BY AN OLD PENINSULAR. - - -PART I.--CHAPTER I. - -On the evening of the 13th of February last, I was sitting in my -library, at my residence in ---- Square, when a double knock at the -door announced the postman. Betty presently entered, bringing, not as -I anticipated, a letter or two, but a small packet, which evidently -excited her curiosity, as it did mine. - -The first thing upon the said packet that caught my eye was a large -seal of red wax--the royal arms!--then, above the direction, "On Her -Majesty's service!"--just beneath, the word, "Medal!" Yes, the medal -that I had earned five-and-thirty years before, in the hard-fought -fight on the hill of Toulouse--long expected, it was come at last! -And, let me tell you, a very handsome medal, too; well designed, well -executed; and accompanied with a very civil letter, from that old -soldier, and true soldier's friend, Lord Fitzroy Somerset, the military -secretary. This letter being, no doubt, precisely the same as hundreds -of "Old Peninsulars" have by this time received, I presume I am guilty -of no breach of confidence in here transcribing it for the benefit of -my readers:-- - - "Horse-Guards, 31st January 1849. - - "Sir,--I am directed by the Commander-in-Chief to transmit to you - the Medal and Clasps graciously awarded to you by her Majesty - under the general order of the first of June 1847. I have the - honour to be, &c. - - "FITZROY SOMERSET." - -As I never attempt to describe my own feelings, except such as are -describable, I shall not relate what I now felt on the receipt of this -much desired, anxiously expected medal. But this I will say;--long live -the Queen! long live Queen Victoria! God bless her! Oh, it was a kind -thought: it was a gracious act. It comes to cheer the heart of many an -old soldier, and of many a middle-aged gentleman like myself, who got -nothing but honour and aching bones for his share in the Peninsular -glories; and now has something that he can add to the archives of his -family, and leave to those who come after him. "Graciously awarded to -you by her Majesty:" Yes; and I feel it as much so, as if her Majesty's -own gracious hands had placed it in mine. And, if ever she wants -defenders, so long as this arm can wield--but enough: romance would be -out of place. - -After the delivery of the medals had been proceeding for some time, I -was coming, one morning, out of the Horse-Guards, when I met old Major -Snaffle, who had just got his. The major belongs to that class who are -known in the army by the name of "grumblers;" and, having been knocked -down by the wind of a shot at the Trocadero, having been brought away -in the last boat but nineteen from Corunna, having seen the battle of -Salamanca from the top of a tree, having been seized with the ague but -an hour before the storming of Badajoz, having again been very ill in -the south of France from eating unripe grapes, having regularly drawn -his pay and allowances, and never having been absent from his regiment -on sick leave when he could not get it, now justly deems himself a very -ill-used man, because more has not been done for him. "Well, major," -said I, "I wish you joy. So you have got your medal at last." "Yes," -growled the major, or rather grunted, "at last I _have_ got it. Long -time, though, six-and-thirty years--long time to wait for half-a-crown." - -My own profession, at present, is very different from that of arms. -Nor can I presume, having been in but one general action, to rank with -those brave old fire-eaters of the Peninsular army, whose medals with -_many_ clasps--bar above bar--tell of six, seven, eight, critical -combats or more, in which they took a part under the illustrious -Wellington, in Portugal, in Spain, in the south of France. By the bye, -how I should like to see the Duke's own medal! What a lot of bars HE -must have!--what a glorious ladder, step rising above step in regular -succession, when he sits down to soup in his field-marshal's coat! But -I was going to say--to return from great things to small--so far from -being able to claim high military honours for myself, though serving -under his Grace's orders in the Peninsular war, I was not there at all -in a strictly military capacity. Yet as, from this very circumstance, -I had opportunities of seeing scenes, characters, and incidents, -connected with the British army, of a different kind from those -described by other writers on the subject, I am induced, by the arrival -of my medal, to place on record a short narrative of my personal -adventures in the Peninsula and south of France. - -Yet, ere I commence the yarn, a word, one word, for the honoured dead. -Many, who came home safe from the Peninsula, fell at Waterloo. Others -were borne from the western ports of Europe across the Atlantic, to -be marks for Kentucky riflemen and New England bushfighters. Of the -survivors, multitudes upon multitudes have gradually dropped off; and -those who now remain, of the legions that conquered at Vimeira, at -Vittoria, and at Orthes, to receive her Majesty's gracious gift, are -probably fewer in number than those who are gone. One "Old Peninsular" -I have heard of, in whose own family and connexions, had all lived, -there would have been fourteen or fifteen claimants of the medal. He is -now, if he still survives, the only one left. In my own connexions we -should have made seven; and now, besides myself, there remains only one -venerable uncle, who is comfortably located in a snug berth in Canada. -There was my honoured father, who received the thanks of parliament -for his services at Corunna, and pounded the French batteries at -Cadiz. There was my cousin, Tom Impett, of the 53d, whom I found with -a musket-ball in his leg two days after the battle of Toulouse, in a -house full of wounded men and officers. He died in Canada. There was -another venerable uncle, as kind an uncle as ever breathed, and as -honest a man as ever lived. He died, to his honour, far from rich, -after having been personally responsible for millions upon millions -of public money, the sinews of war, all paid away in hard cash for -our Peninsular expenses. He was generally known at headquarters -by a comical modification of his two Christian names. There was -Captain, afterwards Colonel B----, of the Royal Engineers, a quiet, -mild-tempered man, with military ardour glowing in his breast--the -man of education and the gentleman. We met near the platform of -St Cyprien; and he had the kindness to entertain me with a calm -disquisition on the fight, while we were both in the thick of it. He -had his share of professional employment in the Peninsular sieges, and -got a bad wound or two; but lived to fortify Spike Island, and was at -length lost at sea. And then there was colonel H----, who commanded a -Portuguese brigade with the rank of brigadier-general--an extraordinary -composition of waggery, shrewdness, chivalry, and professional talent. -He came down to Lisbon while I was there, on his way to England, quite -worn out with hard service and the effect of his wounds, or, as he told -us himself, "unripped at every seam." He died not many days after, on -his passage to England. - -Now for myself. I commenced keeping my terms at Trinity College, -Cambridge, in the year 1809, the seventeenth of my age. A college -life was not altogether my own choice; for nearly all the males of my -family, for three generations, had served or were serving their country -either in the army, navy, or marines, to the number of some ten or -twelve; and I myself had always looked forward to wearing the king's -uniform. Moreover, as the Peninsular war had already commenced when I -went to college, and I had learned at school the use of the broadsword -and small sword, had been drilled, and could handle a musket, my -thoughts often turned to military scenes, especially when I read in -the daily journals of victories won, first by Sir Arthur Wellesley, -then by Lord Wellington. But, once at Cambridge, I caught the fever of -academic emulation. My cousin B---- (brother of the Captain B---- above -mentioned,) had been senior wrangler, and had given me some useful -hints as to the mode of reading with effect; I read hard, obtained a -Trinity scholarship in my first year, first class the same year, ditto -the second year, and stood fair for a place among the wranglers. But -now my health broke; not, however, from hard living, but from hard -study. I was compelled to give up; and, not choosing to read for a -middling degree after having been booked for a high one, determined to -go out among the hoys. Now my penchant for military adventure returned -with full force. I was miserably out of health, with an excellent -constitution--in proof of which I always found that I lost ground by -nursing, but gained by a rough open-air life. A campaign or two would -be just the thing for me. And I beg to offer this suggestion to growing -young gentlemen who are sickly, and consequently hipped, as I was. -If, with rough living--that is, with much moving about, and constant -exposure to the atmosphere--you grow worse, I can give you no comfort; -you are a poor creature, take all the care of yourself you can. But -if, with the same kind of life, you grow better, stronger, stouter, -heartier, saucier, depend upon it, you have some stamina. This was my -case. I saw that a sedentary life was not the life I was made for; an -active life was the life for me; and my thoughts dwelt more and more on -the Peninsula. I rubbed up my French, procured a Gil Blas in Spanish, -ditto in Portuguese, a Portuguese and a Spanish grammar, and, for a -sick man, made wonderful progress in all the three languages. - -But, alas! there was a hitch. I was an only son, and an only -child--intended for the _law_! My dear father had already made me -a present, while at school, of Fortescue _De Laudibus_; and I had -already gobbled up a portion of that excellent work--for I was always -an omnivorous reader--and had digested it too. And then what would my -dear mother say, if I talked to her about going to be shot at for the -benefit of my health? It was a delicate point to manage, and how to -manage it I knew not. - -In the long vacation of 1812, which closed my third year at Trinity -College, Cambridge, I brought matters to an explanation. My father's -ship, the----, 74, was then in the Downs, and we had lodgings on Walmer -beach. I stated my desire to enter the army, and my firm conviction -that nothing else would restore my shattered constitution. But my -father was inflexible, my mother answered all my arguments, and I saw -that I had no chance. - -But when one way of gaining an object fails, another sometimes presents -itself. My two uncles, of whom I have spoken, were already in the -Peninsula, both of them in the same department, the senior at the head -of it, with the privilege of occasionally nominating his own clerks. -Their friends in England heard from them now and then; and I saw a -letter from my senior uncle to a particular old crony of his own, who -had influential connexions, asking him why he did not come out to the -army with the rank of A. D. P. M. G.,[16] instead of staying at home, -and eating roast pig for supper. - -Like all the hipped, a miserable race, I was constantly thinking -about myself; and now a happy thought struck me. As to parliamentary -interest, to be sure I had none. Besides, being under one-and-twenty, -I was not of an age to aspire to an officer's rank, in a department of -so much responsibility as the paymaster-general's; therefore, the above -standing of assistant-deputy, which put an epaulet on the shoulder at -once, was not to be thought of. But then, if Buonaparte would only have -the kindness to keep us in hot water two or three years longer, I might -rise to the said rank by previous good conduct in the office of clerk, -and that my uncle could get me at once. - -I again broke ground with my honoured parents. My father assured me -that, if I went to Lisbon, where he had been stationed with his ship, -I should find it a hell upon earth: though I afterwards learned that -he had contrived to spend a tolerably happy life there. "And as to -your being attached to headquarters, and following the movements of -the army, I," said he, "have seen quite enough of service ashore to -be able to tell you that you will be soon sick of that." But, to cut -the story short, my dear mother now began to incline to my view of the -subject. To be sure a clerkship was not exactly what they had thought -of for me--but it might lead to something better--no man's education -was complete without a tour on the Continent--the usual tour through -France, Italy, and the south of Germany, was rendered impossible by -the war--and where, in all Europe, could a young man travel, except -in Spain and Portugal? Fighting, and paying those who fought, were -different things--I might keep out of the way of bullets, and yet -contrive to see the world. In short, these arguments prevailed. A -letter was written out to my uncle, begging him to write a letter to -the head office in London, nominating me as one of his clerks for -Peninsular service. I went back to Cambridge, attacked Spanish and -Portuguese with renewed ferocity, took my degree of A. B., and returned -home in the early part of 1813, just in time to meet a letter from the -best of uncles, stating that he had written to the home authorities, -and was anxiously expecting my valuable assistance in the Peninsula. - -Nothing was now wanting but the nomination from London. That anxious -month! Morning after morning I watched for the postman's knock; and, -at every such summons, it was myself that opened the door to him. But -great bodies move slowly, and official dignity delights to announce -itself by tardiness of action. At length the wished-for communication -arrived; a letter, "On His Majesty's Service," of no common magnitude; -a seal of correspondent amplitude; and an intimation, in terms of -stately brevity, that I was appointed a clerk of the military chest -attached to the Peninsular army, and was to attend at the office in -London to receive my instructions. - -During that month the bustle of preparation, in our usually quiet -domicile, had been immense. Stockings sufficient to set up a Cheapside -hosier, shirts enough for a voyage to India, flannel commensurate -with a visit to the North Pole--everything, in short, that could be -thought of, was prepared for the occasion with kind and provident care. -I said farewell, reached London, reported myself, got my orders and -an advance, booked my place for Falmouth, and found myself the same -evening a passenger to Exeter by the fast coach. - -In those times, the journey from London to Falmouth by the fast coach -was a light off-hand affair of two nights and two days. We reached -Exeter on the second night, and there I was allowed the indulgence -of three hours' bed, till the Falmouth coach was ready to start. As -part of the said three hours was occupied in undressing and dressing, -and part also in saying my prayers, I entered the new vehicle far -more disposed for sleep than for conversation. But there I found, -to my consternation, a very chatty passenger, perfectly _fresh_! He -was a man of universal information--in short, a talented individual, -and an intellectual character; had his own ideas upon morals, -politics, theology, physics, metaphysics, and general literature; was -particularly anxious to impart them; and was travelling to obtain -orders in the rum and hollands line. Ah, what a night was that! Oh the -dismal suffering which a prosy talker inflicts on a weary head! Of all -nuisances, the most unconscious is the bore. I do think the Speaker of -the House of Commons is the most ill-used man in the three kingdoms. -Reflect: he must not only hear--he must _listen_! And then think what -a time!--hour after hour, and day after day! For a period amounting, -in the aggregate, to no small portion of the life of man, must that -unfortunate victim of British institutions sit and hearken to - - "Now a louder, now a weaker, - Now a snorter, now a squeaker; - How I pity Mr Speaker!" - -Some portion of such suffering I myself was now compelled to endure, -by my communicative friend in the Falmouth coach. To be sure, it -was only a single proser; but then there was variety in one. He -commenced by a few remarks on the weather, by which he introduced a -disquisition on meteorology. He then passed, by an easy transition, -to the question of secondary punishments; glanced at the theory of -gravitation; dwelt for some time on heraldry; touched on hydrostatics; -was large on logarithms; then digressed on the American war; proposed -emendations of our authorised version; discussed the Neptunian theory; -and at length suspended his course, to inform me that I was decidedly -the most agreeable fellow-traveller he had ever met with. The fact -is, I was sitting up all this time in the corner of the coach, in a -state of agony and indignation indescribable, meditating some mode -of putting a stop to the annoyance, and mentally seeking a solution -to the question--What right has a very stupid person to make your -brain a thoroughfare for his stupid ideas, especially when you would -particularly like to go to sleep? He mistook my silence for attention, -and thought he was appreciated. This went on till daylight--continued -to breakfast-time--proceeded during breakfast--ceased not when we -had re-entered the coach-talk, talk, talk, _de omnibus rebus et -quibusdam aliis_--still the same stream of stuff. That long, that -dreary journey from Exeter to Falmouth! The soft lull of somnolency -came at length to my relief; and I began to nod my assent, much to my -tormentor's gratification. But presently I was dead asleep; and, most -unfortunately, my head dropped forward into the pit of his stomach. -The breath, knocked out of his body, escaped with a gasp, like an -Indian's "ugh!" In a moment I was broad awake, and made a thousand -apologies, which he politely accepted, and renewed the thread of his -discourse. Again, I dropped off; and again my head dropped forward. -Another "ugh!" another ocean of apologies, another resumption of the -endless yarn. The other passengers, two sedate and remarkably silent -gentlemen of Falmouth, in broad-brimmed hats and drab coats of a -peculiar cut, had each his weather-eye open, and began to enjoy the -joke amazingly. Gradually, once more, the incessant clack subsided in -my ears to a pleasing hum; I was off; the cervical, dorsal, and lumbar -muscles once more lost their tension beneath the narcotic influence of -incessant sound; and my drowsy head gave a pitch as before, with the -same results--"ugh!"--apologies unlimited--ditto accepted--and more -yarn. The Quakers--I beg their pardon, the "Friends"--are, you must -know, eminently humourists. This, please to take notice, arises from -their superior intelligence, and high degree of mental culture; the -result of which is high susceptibility. You might now have seen, in -our two fellow-travellers in the Falmouth coach, what you would see -nowhere but in their "connexion"--two men ready to die of laughing, -and each looking as grave as a judge. For a few miles it went on. -Talk--sleep--head pitched into bread-basket--"ugh!"--pungent and -profound regrets--regrets accepted--talk recommenced--and so on with a -perpetual _da capo_. At length the most gifted of gratuitous lecturers -began to perceive that he was contributing to the amusement of the -party in a way that he had not intended, and grew indignant. But I -pacified him, as we drove into Falmouth, by politely soliciting a card -of his house; stepped out of the coach into the coffee-room of the -hotel, out of the coffee-room into bed as soon as it was ready, and -made up for two sleepless nights by not coming down to breakfast till -two o'clock the next day. - -The Lisbon packet was not to sail for a week. My extra baggage arrived -in due time by the heavy; and I occupied the interval, as best I -could, in a pedestrian survey of the environs of Falmouth, walks to -Truro, Pendennis Castle, &c. I was much delighted with clouted cream, -and gave the landlady an unlimited order always to let me have a john -dory for dinner, when there was one in the market. N.B.--No place like -Falmouth for john dories. Clouted cream always ask for, when you go -into the West--very good with tea, not bad with coffee; and _mem._, -unimpeachable with apple-pie. - -The packet, that was to have the honour of conveying me from Falmouth -to Lisbon, was a little tub of a gun-brig, yclept the Princess -Wilhelmina. Judging from her entire want of all the qualities requisite -for the service on which she was employed, I presume she must have -obtained the situation through some member of parliament. Her captain -was laid up with the gout; and we were to be commanded by the mate, who -turned out to be a Yankee, and an ugly customer; but more of him anon. -At the same hotel where I had established my _habitat_, was a military -party, three in number, waiting, like myself, for the sailing of the -packet; yet not, like myself, men fresh in the service, but all three -regular "Peninsulars"--men who had returned on leave from the British -army, and were now about to join, in time for the opening of the -campaign. They had established themselves in a front drawing-room on -the first floor, seemed very fond of music, and had good voices. But as -they always sang together, and each sang his own song, it was not easy -to determine the vocal powers of each. The coffee-room was quite good -enough for me; and there I had the honour of forming the acquaintance -of another fellow-voyager that was to be--a partner in a large London -house in the Manchester line, whom, to avoid personality, I beg leave -to distinguish by the name of Gingham. He had many of the peculiarities -of Cockneyism, and some that were entirely his own; but I found him a -very pleasant companion, and we perambulated the town and neighbourhood -in company. - - -CHAPTER II. - -My first chapter brought me, on my way to Portugal, as far as the -Royal Hotel, Falmouth. At this stage of my travels, I must beg to -detain the reader for a short space; for here it is that I may be -said to have had my seasoning; here, in fact, I obtained my first -introduction to military society, and to military life, as it prevailed -at the British headquarters in the Peninsula. This advantage I gained -by falling in with the party of "Peninsulars" already mentioned, who -were on their way out, like myself. I must also make my readers better -acquainted with my friend Gingham, whom I hope they will not dislike -on further knowledge. Gingham and I afterwards campaigned in company. -I must premise that he had a touch of romance; and, as I afterwards -discovered, had not been brought up as a merchant. - -It was the early spring of 1813: a year big with events of import to -Spain, to France, to England, and, in fact, to the whole of Europe. On -leaving London by the fast coach, we had bowled away over frozen roads. -But at Falmouth, the trees were budding in the hedgerows, the sun -was shining, the birds were singing; while the soft air stole gently -by, and, whispering, sportively saluted us as it passed, like some -coy nymph invisible--that idea was Gingham's--the sky was clear, and -the haze danced in the sunshine on the distant hills--Gingham again. -Towards the afternoon, it generally fell calm. The capacious harbour, -smooth as glass, though gently undulating at its entrance, with the -swell of the Atlantic that rolled lazily in, bore on its bosom not only -the tub-like Princess Wilhelmina and her Yankee mate, but many a noble -vessel of ampler tonnage, that showed no water-line in the transparent -and silent mirror on which it floated, and seemed to hang suspended -between earth and heaven, motionless in the sun-lit and misty ether. - -A very odd fish was that Gingham. We enjoyed our walks amazingly. He -was going out to Lisbon in a large way, on a mission of mercantile -speculation, with full authority from his firm to do anything and -everything, whether in the way of contracts for the army, buying up -commissariat bills, engaging in monetary transactions, or, above -all--for that was his chief object--forming a Peninsular connexion, and -opening a new market for British goods. His was, indeed, a voyage of -enterprise and of discovery; not, however, his first. His manners were -precise. He was a higgler in little things, but had large ideas, and -lots of gentlemanly feeling. Like many other Cockneys of those days, -he was always dressed, and always conscious of being dressed. His hat -was white, with the exception of the interior green of the brim, which -matched with his spectacles. His gloves were white, his unmentionables -were white, and so was his waistcoat. His white cravat was tied before -in a sort of pilot-balloon, or white rosicrucian puff. His hair also -was pomatum'd, and powdered white. His very pigtail, all but the narrow -silk ribbon that held it together, was white. His coat was not white, -but a light pepper-and-salt, approaching to white. On the whole, there -was so much white in his general appearance, that on board the packet -he at once received the name of "the white man." He was generally -well-informed, but particularly so in matters of commerce. Our intimacy -increased rapidly, and I afterwards, indeed very soon, found the -advantage of it. He was naturally of a communicative disposition, -while he had much to communicate that was worth knowing. In me he -found a willing hearer; for I was glad to receive any kind of useful -information. With the prospect before us of a campaign in common, we -soon knocked up a sort of friendship. - -Gingham could do the handsome thing. Two days before our embarkation -he insisted on my dining with him--taking my chop with him, he called -it--in return for half a beefsteak, which he had accepted from me at -breakfast, his own being delayed. I entered the coffee-room at the -appointed hour; but was ushered up stairs into a private room with -some degree of ceremony by the waiter, who, I observed, had on gloves, -knees, silk stockings, and pumps. - -Gingham was there. He had ordered a regular spread. We sat down. The -landlord, who had not hitherto made himself visible, emerged on this -festive occasion, brought in the soup, bowed, and retired. Gingham said -grace. The soup excellent: it was turtle! "Capital turtle!" said I; -"had no idea that anything half so good was to be had in all Falmouth." -"Always take a small stock when I travel," said Gingham; "got a -dozen three-quart cases from Cornhill. Just found room for it in my -travelling store-closet." "Travelling store-closet!" thought I: "what a -capital fellow to campaign with!" - -Soup removed. Re-enter landlord, attended by waiter. John dory, in -compliment to me, splendid. Large soles, fried. "I despise the man that -boils a sole," said Gingham. It was despicable, I admitted. "My dear -sir," said he, "allow me to lay down a principle, which you will find -useful as long as you live. With _boiled_ fish--turbot, for instance, -or john dory--always take sauce. You did quite right, in allowing me to -help you to sauce just now. But with _fried_ fish, at least with fried -sole--this, for instance--never, never permit sauce or melted butter to -be put upon your plate." It was a manoeuvre to get me to try the sole, -after the john dory. "Fried sole without butter?" said I. "Try it my -way," said Gingham, helping me: "take some salt--that's right--now put -to that a modicum of cayenne--there--a little more--don't be afraid -of putting enough--cayenne, though hot, is not heating, like common -pepper--now mix them well together with the point of your knife." I -obeyed implicitly. "Now then," said Gingham, with a look of exultation, -"TRY THAT." I tried it; and owned that I had never known, till then, -the right way of eating fried sole. It was excellent, even after the -john dory. Try it, only try it, the first time a fried sole appears on -the dinner table, under which are your legs. - -A peculiar sound at the side-table now announced that he of the pumps -was opening a bottle of champagne. Up to that moment we had managed to -put up with Madeira, which was the fashionable dinner wine in those -days. N.B.--Good wine to be got at Falmouth. It comes direct from -abroad, not viâ _London_. - -Fish removed. Door opens. Though rejoicing in those days in a very -fair appetite, I was rather alarmed, after such a commencement of our -humble meal, at the thought of what might be coming. But Gingham had -a delicacy of taste, which never overdid things. Enter once more -the landlord, bearing an elegant little saddle of Dartmoor mutton, -and audibly whispering to the waiter, "Boiled fowls and tongue to -follow." I commenced this history with a resolution to conceal nothing; -therefore, away with reserve: both mutton, fowls, and tongue were -excellent. "A little more Madeira, Mr Y--," said Gingham. The currant -jelly had distasted my mouth. I merely put the glass to my lips, and -set it down again. Gingham observed, and at once discovered the reason. -"Take a mouthful of potato," said Gingham, "the hottest you can find in -the dish." My taste was restored. Table cleared again. I hoped the next -_entrée_ would be the cheese and celery. - -During the short armistice, Gingham, who delighted to communicate -useful knowledge, resumed the subject of the potato. Like all merchants -who pay frequent visits to the Peninsula--and Gingham had been there -often--he was knowing in wines, and in everything vinous. "Yes," said -he, "nothing like a mouthful of hot potato to make you taste wine. -There are lots of things besides, but none equal to that. The invention -is my own." - -"Then," replied I, "I presume you use it at Oporto and Xeres, when you -make purchases?" - -"Why, not exactly that neither," said he. "The worst of it is, it makes -all wine relish alike, bad as well as good. Now, in buying wine, you -want something to distinguish the good wine from the bad. And for this -purpose--" The landlord and waiter reappeared. - -"Sorry, Mr Y--, there is no game," said Gingham. "Fine jack hare in the -larder this morning, but rather late in the season. Wouldn't have it. -Can you finish off with one or two light things in the French way?" - -"My dear sir, my dear sir!" - -The table was this time covered with such a display of _pâtisserie_, -macaroni, and made dishes, as would have formed of itself a very -handsome _petit souper_ for half-a-dozen people. Gingham wanted me to -try everything, and set me an example. - -The whole concluded, and the cloth about to be removed, "Mr Gingham," -said I, "you said grace before dinner, and I think _I_ ought to -say grace now." The waiter drew up reverently with his back to the -sideboard, adjusted his neckcloth, and tightened with his right hand -the glove upon his left. - -We sat sipping our wine, and nibbling at a very handsome dessert. I -wanted to know more about distinguishing good wine from bad. - -"I have made large purchases of wine on commission," said Gingham, -"for private friends; and that, you know, is a delicate business, and -sometimes a thankless one. But I never bought a bad lot yet; and if -they found fault with it, I wouldn't let them have it--kept it myself, -or sold it for more in the market." - -"You were just on the point," said I, "of mentioning a method of -distinguishing good wine from bad." - -"Well," replied he, "those fellows there, on the other side of the -Bay of Biscay, have methods innumerable. After all, taste, judgment, -and experience must decide. The Oporto wine-merchants, who know what -they are about, use a sort of silver saucer, with its centre bulging -upwards. In this saucer they make the wine spin round. My plan is -different." - -"I should like to know it," said I. - -"Well, sir," said he, "mix with water--two-thirds water to one-third -wine. Then try it." - -"Well?" - -"If there is any bad taste in the wine, the mixing brings it out. Did -you never notice in London, even if the port or sherry seems passable -alone, when you water it the compound is truly horrid, too nauseous to -drink?" - -"The fact is, though a moderate man, I am not very fond of watering -wine." - -"The fact is," continued Gingham, "there is very little good wine -to be got in London, always excepting such places, for instance, as -the Chapter. When you return, after having tasted wine in the wine -countries, you will be of my opinion. Much that you get is merely poor -wine of the inferior growths, coloured, flavoured, and dressed up with -bad brandy for the London market. That sort comes from abroad. And much -that you get is not wine at all, but a decoction; a vile decoction, -sir; not a drop of wine in its composition. That sort is the London -particular." I felt that I was receiving ideas. - -"Now, sir," said Gingham, "my cold-water test detects this. If what you -get for wine is a decoction, a compound, and nothing but a compound, no -wine in it, then the water--about two-thirds to one-third--detects the -filthy reality. Add a lump or two of sugar, and you get as beastly a -dose of physic as was ever made up in a doctor's shop." - -"Just such a dose," I replied, "as I remember getting, now you mention -it, as I came down here by the fast coach, at an inn where I asked, by -way of a change, for a glass of cold white-wine negus. The slice of -lemon was an improvement, having done duty before in a glass of gin -punch." - -"Shouldn't wonder," said Gingham. "And if what you buy for port or -sherry be not absolutely a decoction, but only inferior wine made -up, then the water equally acts as a detective. For the dilution has -the effect of separating, so to speak, the respective tastes of the -component parts--brings them out, sir; and you get each distinct. You -get, on the one hand, the taste of the bad brandy, harsh, raw, and -empyreumatic: and you get, on the other hand, the taste of the poor, -paltry wine, wretched stuff, the true _vinho ordinario_ flavour, that -makes you think at once of some dirty roadside Portuguese _posada_, -swarming with fleas." - -"But what if you water really good wine?" - -"Why, then," said Gingham, "the flavour, though diluted, is still the -flavour of good wine." - -"I should like," said I, "to be knowing in wines." - -Seeing in me a willing learner, he was about to open. But at this -moment the mail drove into the yard of the hotel; and, knowing that -Gingham was always ravenous for the London journals on their first -arrival, I insisted on our going down into the public room, taking a -cup of coffee, and reading the papers. We had talked about wines; but, -being neither of us topers, had taken only a moderate _quantum suff._, -though all of the best kind. Gingham, out of compliment to me, wished -to prolong the sitting. But, knowing his penchant for a wet newspaper, -I was inflexible. We rose from the table. - -I felt that I had been handsomely entertained, and that something -handsome ought to be said. The pleasing consciousness, however, of -having eaten a good dinner, though it excited my finest feelings, did -not confer the faculty of expressing them. I began: - -"Sir, Mr Gingham; I feel we ought not to leave this room, till I have -expressed the emotions--" Then, taking a new departure, "Really, sir, -your kind hospitality to a comparative stranger--" - -"Well, sir," said Gingham, laughing, "I will tell you how it was. Do -you remember your first breakfast in the coffee-room, the day after -your arrival by the mail? I was present, and enjoyed it amazingly." - -"Oh, sir! oh, sir!" said I, a _leetle_ taken aback; "really I was -enormously hungry. In fact I had eaten nothing during my two days' -previous journey; and was so sleepy on my arrival, that I got to bed as -fast as I could, without thinking of ordering supper. And when I came -down next morning, or rather afternoon, why, to tell you the truth, I -made it breakfast and dinner in one; and perhaps I did seem a little -savage in my first onset on the Falmouth--" - -"No, NO, NO!" exclaimed Gingham, interrupting me. "That was not it. No, -NO, NO! far from it. My dear sir, you merely disposed of two or three -plates of ham and eggs; then a few muffins, with about half-a-dozen -basins of tea. After that--let me see--after that, to the best of my -recollection--after that, you took nothing, no, nothing, but the mutton -chops. No, sir, it was not the quantity. I have often made as hearty a -meal myself; and, if we campaign together, I trust we shall often make -as hearty a meal together. Nothing like campaigning for an appetite. -No, sir; that was not it. It was your manner of taking it." - -"My manner of taking it? Really! And pray what did you see in my manner -of taking it?" - -"Sir," said Gingham, with emotion, "I know this house. I have long -used this house. Everything in this house is good. The accommodation -is good. The attendance is good. The wine is good. The dinners are -good. The breakfasts are good. Now, sir, I have seen some persons -conduct themselves in this house in a manner that filled me with scorn, -disgust, and indignation. They arrive by the London mail, sir, as you -did, and go to bed. In the morning they come down into the public room, -and order breakfast. They breakfast, not like you, my dear sir, very -moderately, but enormously. That I could forgive; after a long journey -it is excusable. But, sir, what I cannot tolerate is this: They find -fault with everything. The tea is bad; the coffee is bad. They take up -the silver cream-jug; examine the clouted cream; smell to it--yes, sir; -they actually smell to it--and smelling to anything, I need not say, is -as great a _bêtise_ as a man can commit at table--ask the waiter what -he means by bringing them such stuff as that; and, before they have -done, gobble up the whole, and perhaps call for more." - -"Call for more? Why, that, I think, is exactly what I did." - -"Yes, my dear sir," said Gingham, "you enjoyed it; and you took a -pretty good lot of it; but you did not find fault with it. Not so the -people I am talking of. The fact is, sir, we Londoners have a great -idea of keeping up our dignity. These persons wish to pass for people -of importance; and they think importance is announced by finding -fault. Item, they are enormously, indecently hungry, and fully intend -to make a breakfast for two, but wish to do it surreptitiously. On -the arrival of the beefsteak, they turn round the dish, and look at -it contemptuously, longing, all the while, to fall to. Yes, sir, they -turn round the dish two or three times; then stick their fork into the -steak, and turn it over and over; perhaps hold it up, suspended by a -single prong, and examine it critically; and end all by pushing away -their plate, drawing the dish into its place, and bolting the whole -beefsteak, without taking time to masticate. Sir, there was a man in -that coffee-room this morning, who grumbled at everything, and ate like -a dog. In short, they clear the table of eatables and drinkables; then -call the waiter, and reproach him, with a savage look, for bringing -them a tough beefsteak; and, in a plaintive voice, like ill-used men, -inquire if there is any cold meat-pie." - -I owned, from personal observation in the public room, to the general -correctness of this sketch. - -"Now you, sir," continued Gingham, "enjoyed your breakfast, and made a -good one; but found fault with nothing; because, I presume, there was -nothing to find fault with. I like to see a man enjoy his meals. And if -he does, I like to see him show it. It is one of the tokens by which I -judge of character. Your conduct, my dear sir, commanded my respect. -Shall I say more? It won my esteem. Then and there my resolution was -formed, to invite you, at the first convenient opportunity, to partake -of my humble hospitality." - -It was too much. I extended my fist. A shaking of hands, of some -continuance--cordial on my part, and evidently so on Gingham's, by the -pain I felt in my shoulder. - -"Well, sir," said Gingham, "I had already learned that you were a -passenger for the Peninsula. I was a passenger for the Peninsula; and, -as we were to sail together, and probably to campaign together, I -resolved to introduce myself. I said, this lad--I beg your pardon, this -youth--excuse me, this gentleman, this young gentleman--for I guess you -have some ten years the advantage of me in that respect--this gentleman -is, like myself, bound for the headquarters of the Peninsular army. I -know something of campaigning; he knows nothing. We campaign together." - -"Well now," said I, "that is just what I should like amazingly." - -Gingham now took the initiative, and put forth his paw. Again we -tackled, and, in the true pump-handle style, so dear to Englishmen, -expressed mutual cordiality: only that this time, being better -prepared, I reversed the electric stream, and brought tears into -Gingham's eyes. He sung out, "Oh!" and rubbed his arm. - -"The rest," said Gingham, "is easily told. After breakfast you walked -out into the court-yard, lit a cigar, and stood on the steps. I lit -another, followed, and had the pleasure of making your acquaintance." - -I gave audible expression to my profound self-congratulations. - -"Allow me, however, to add," said Gingham, "you raised yourself greatly -in my esteem by asking the waiter for a red herring. The request -evinced a superiority to vulgar prejudices. Your way of putting it, -too, was in perfect good keeping: for you did not commit yourself by -_ordering_ a red herring; but asked whether you could have one in -the coffee-room. Believe me, I was pained, when he stated that red -herrings were not permitted; and could but admire your self-denial, in -accepting, as a substitute, the mutton-chops." - -We adjourned to the public room. - -Gingham had entertained me hospitably and handsomely. Yet this was -the same Gingham who, when I made him take part of my beefsteak at -breakfast, because his own was delayed, proposed that we should desire -the waiter to tell the landlady to charge only half a beefsteak to me, -and half a beefsteak to him, Gingham. My rejection of this proposal was -the immediate occasion of the dinner, at which the reader has just been -present. - -While we were eviscerating the papers, fresh from London, Gingham -leaned over the table, with the air of a man who had something -important to communicate. He looked me earnestly in the face. - -"Mr Y----," said he, "what do you say--to a red herring--this -evening--for supper?" - -"Thank you. You must excuse me. Nothing more to-night, but one cup -of coffee, and perhaps a cigar. Not even an anchovy toast. I really -couldn't." - -"Well, then," said Gingham, "to-morrow at breakfast. We will engage a -room up stairs, and ask leave of nobody. I have brought down a small -barrel from London--always take some when I visit the Peninsula--get -them in Lower Thames Street. You will pronounce them excellent." - -The offer was too good to be declined. - -Next morning we ordered breakfast up stairs. Indeed, a fire had been -lit in one of the parlours, by Gingham's directions; and there I found -him, with the table laid, and the herrings ready for cooking. Gingham -had secured a small Dutch oven; not with the design of _baking_ the -herrings--no, no, he knew better than that--but to keep them hot when -done. The doing he reserved to himself, on the plea of experience. I -was not to assist, except in eating them. - -"Do you understand cookery, Mr Y--?" said Gingham. - -I ingenuously owned my deficiency in that branch of education, which is -no part of the Cambridge curriculum. - -"Three months at headquarters," said he, "will make you an excellent -cook." - -It so happened that the parlour, in which we had located ourselves for -the purpose of cooking our herrings, was not that in which we had dined -the day before, but one adjoining the larger apartment occupied by the -three military gentlemen, with whom we were to cross the Bay of Biscay. -A boarding, removable at pleasure, was the only separation between the -two rooms. We had not yet become acquainted. - -Shortly after I joined Gingham, two of the three entered their -parlour; presently the third followed. They rang the bell, and ordered -breakfast, all in high good humour, and talking incessantly. We were -not listeners, but could not help hearing every word that was said. - -"Good blow-out that, yesterday."--"Pity we didn't know of it sooner; -might as well have dined with them."--"Turtle, too."--"'Pon your -honour?"--"Turtle, and lots of champagne. Caught the waiter swigging -off the end of a bottle in the passage."--"Who are they?"--"Don't -know; can't make them out. Both going out with us in the packet, -though."--"Think I remember seeing the white fellow at Cadiz; almost -sure I did; and afterwards again at Madrid. Always wore his hair in -that way, well floured and larded, except when it was too hot, and -combed down straight on each side of his ugly face."--"What a nose! -Prodigious! A regular proboscis."--"Yes, and all on one side, like the -rudder of a barge."--"Let me tell you, a very good thing; for if it -was straight, it would be always in his way."--"Always in his way? Why -it would trip him up when he walked."--_Omnes_, "Ha, ha, ha."--"Going -with us, do you say? Hope he don't snore. Why, such a _tromba_ as that -would keep a whole line-of-battle ship awake."--"Bet you a dollar he's -blind of one eye."--"Done." "Done. Book it, major."--"I'll trouble -you for a dollar. He does walk a little sideways, but it isn't his -eye."--"What is it, then? One-eyed people always walk sideways."--"Why, -I'll tell you, now. It's a principle which most people observe through -life."--"What principle?"--"Guess."--"Come, tell us, old fellow. None -of your nonsense."--"D'ye give it up?"--"Yes, I give it up. Come, tell -us."--"Follow your nose."--_Omnes_, "Ha, ha, ha."--"Capital! capital! -That's the best we've had for some time. Follow your nose! Capital! -Ha, ha, ha."--"Well, that's it, depend upon it. Other people follow -their noses by walking straight forward. That white fellow walks -sideways, but still follows his nose."--"No, no, major. Your theory is -fallacious. When he walks his nose points backwards. His nose points -over his left shoulder, and he walks right shoulders forward." I looked -at Gingham, and laughed. Gingham was looking rather grave, and feeling -his nose. "No, no. I tell you he walks _left_ shoulders forward."--"Bet -you a dollar."--"Done."--"Done. Book it, major."--"I'll trouble you -for a dollar. Saw him this morning, all in a bustle. Took particular -notice of his nose."--"Who is the young chap?"--"Oh, he's a regular -Johnny Newcome, that's evident."--"Johnny Newcome? Yes; but I wish he -wasn't such a chap for john dories. Price in the market is doubled." -Gingham laughed and looked at me. "Suppose he's a sub going out to -join his regiment."--"No, no. Got such lots of baggage. No regimental -officer would be ass enough to take such a heap of trunks. Load for -three mules."--"He'll soon knock up. Those long fellows always knock -up."--"Shouldn't wonder if he gets the fever next autumn. Then what -will his mammy say?"--"Well, but what did they dine about? Thousand -pities we did not join them."--"Oh, I suppose it was something of a -parting feed; taking leave of Old England, you know: toasting Miss -Ann Chovy, Miss Mary Gold, Miss Polly Anthus, and all that kind of -thing."--"Hang it all; a good dinner for eight people; thousand pities -we missed it." - -By this time, our cookery was proceeding in due course. Two splendid -bloaters, whole, lay extended where chestnuts are roasted; while two -more, split open, hung suspended from a large toasting-fork, held -by Gingham, who told me to look and learn, but not to meddle. With -a clear bright fire, they soon began to spit. Nor was there wanting -another token of our operations. For now the savoury odour of four red -herrings, simultaneously under a brisk process of culinary preparation, -diffused itself through the apartment, and no doubt through the whole -hotel, from the cellar to the attics. The effect on our friends in the -next room was instantaneous. Conversation ceased. Then there was a deal -of sniffing--then audible whispering and suppressed laughter--then -again, a dead silence. Gingham and I exchanged looks. "We _must_ be -acquainted," said Gingham, quietly; "and the sooner the better." I -saw he had made up his mind, and was prepared for what was about to -take place. Then the conversation was heard a little louder, but not -distinguishable. There was evidently a council of war. Much laughter. -Then, audibly spoken, "Are you fond of herrings?"--"Very; capital for -breakfast."--"So am I, very; that is, of _red_ herrings. _Fresh_, -can't endure them."--"Nor I; they have such a horrid SMELL. But a -bloater,--often dined off them up the country; didn't we, major?"--"Oh -yes, lots of times. But you were moderate. Never could manage above -half-a-dozen at a sitting."--"Ring for the waiter."--"No, no; nonsense. -Major M--, YOU." After a moment's pause, one of the party left the -room; walked, apparently to the end of the passage; then walked -back again; opened our door; entered, and politely apologised for -the mistake. He was a middle-aged, well-built, gentlemanly-looking -man, with _bonhomie_ beaming in his countenance, and came at once to -business. His eye dropped upon the herrings. - -"Beg ten thousand pardons. Oh! I see it's _here_. We perceived that -bloaters were frying somewhere in the house, and thought we should like -to try a few. Will you have the kindness to inform me where they can be -procured? Didn't know there was a single bloater in all Falmouth." - -I, in my simplicity, thought the major was really asking for -_information_, and was going to tell him of several shops where I had -seen bloaters; but Gingham was too quick for me. - -"Here is a barrel-full," said Gingham, pointing to the corner of the -room. "Shall be most happy to supply you and your friends with any -quantity. Do me the favour to accept of two or three dozen." - -"Oh no, sir," said Major M--, drawing up, as if he had been -misunderstood. The major was playing a higher game. "Couldn't think of -such a thing. Thought you had procured them in the town." - -"Indeed, sir," said Gingham, "I don't think the town contains their -equals. They are from London direct. Always take a small barrel with me -when I visit the Peninsula. Get them in Lower Thames Street." - -"Really, a most excellent idea," said Major M--. "I wish I had done the -same. Well, I think I never will return to headquarters again without -taking a barrel of red herrings." The Major cast a sort of domesticated -look about the room, as if he felt quite at home with us. - -"Go it, Major!" said an opening in the partition, _sotto voce_. - -"Come, Major," said Gingham, "I see you and the gentlemen your -companions are old campaigners. So am I. Suppose we waive ceremony. You -see we have got our cooking apparatus all ready. Suppose--do us the -favour--excuse the shortness of the invitation--I shall be delighted, -and so will my friend here, if you and your party will oblige us with -your company to breakfast." - -"Yes, yes, Major," said the crevice, as before. "Yes, Major, yes," said -another crevice. - -"Really, sir," said the Major, with an admirably assumed look of polite -embarrassment, and turning a deaf ear to his two prompters behind the -scenes--"really, sir, I hardly know how to thank you sufficiently for -your obliging invitation. But--shall we not intrude? You meant to -breakfast in private. You have, perhaps, business? Matters to arrange, -preparatory to the voyage?" - -"None in the world, sir," said Gingham, "till after breakfast. Our only -business here is to cook our bloaters and eat them, which we could not -do in the public room below. Do, pray, oblige us by negotiating this -little affair, Major, and persuade your friends to favour us with their -company." - -The Major, in fact, was negotiating already; and a capital negotiator -he made. He might, had he pleased, have walked off, at an earlier stage -of the proceedings, with a whole pile of herrings; and even that, at -college, we should have thought a capital _coup_. But the Major was not -so green. - -"Well, sir, since you are so very pressing, I shall have the pleasure -of communicating to my comrades your kind invitation; and I presume," -he added, bowing politely to me, "I may also have the honour of saying, -the invitation of your friend, Captain Y--." - -I bowed in return, too much taken by surprise to disclaim the rank so -unexpectedly conferred; and a little sore at being saluted "captain," -by the same voice which I had heard, just before, proclaiming aloud, -that if I was a regimental officer I was an ass. The Major bowed again; -backed out of the room, still bowing, and closed the door. - -The remaining negotiation was not of long continuance. His two -friends were already in the passage, hard by the entrance of our -apartment. A dead silence--one irrepressible burst of laughter, -instantly hushed--again dead silence--a tap at the door--door opened by -Gingham--and enter THE THREE PENINSULARS. - -I really could not help admiring the perfectly free and easy, but at -the same time quiet, self-possessed, and gentlemanly style of their -_entrée_, and of their bearing during the first few moments of our -interview. Gingham expressed his gratification; was happy to see them. -Advancing on their right flank, taking up a central position, and then -facing to the left, "Allow me," said the major, "to avail myself of -my brief priority of acquaintance, and to introduce--Captain Gabion, -of the Royal Engineers," (bowing, on both sides)--"and Mr Commissary -Capsicum," (more bowing,)--"half-brothers, I need not say--the family -likeness is so striking." Gingham presented Mr Y--. Mr Y--(booby!) -presented Gingham. - -"Not very striking that family likeness, though," thought I, of -course taking seriously what the wag of a major spoke with perfect -seriousness. The captain of the Engineers was a pale-looking man, -buttoned up to the chin in his regulation frock-coat, rather above -the common height, air military and symmetrical. Education had traced -on his countenance the lines of thought; and, in short, his whole -appearance was a little aristocratic, and what we now call _distingué_. -His "half-brother," the commissary, on the contrary, who appeared at -least twelve years his senior, was a short, pursy, puffy man; with -a full, rubicund, oleaginous, and pimpled visage; a large, spongy, -purple blob of a nose, its broad lower extremity pendulous, and -slightly oscillatory when he moved; a humorous twinkle in his eye, -which was constantly on the range in search of fun; two black, bushy -tufts for eyebrows; his hair distributed over his ample pericranium in -large detached _flocks_, each flock growing a way of its own, and no -two alike; coat flying open; waistcoat open, all but the two bottom -buttons; a bull neck, with very little cravat; and a profuse display -of shirt and frill. His shirt and frill, imperfectly closed, revealed -his grizzly chest; while his nether extremities were set off to great -advantage by a pair of tight blue kerseymere pantaloons with a scarlet -stripe; and something--I suppose, as bustles were not then the fashion, -it must have been his tailors' clumsiness--imparted a peculiar breadth -and bulge to the tail of his coat. He wore splendid gaiters of bright -nankeen, with mother-of-pearl buttons. No ceremony when gentlemen meet. -We were all quite at home in a moment. - -There was a little hitch. All the party were quite of one mind and -will, in the project and purpose of cooking and eating bloaters. But -how were five cooks to cook at one fire? - -We all saw it together. I looked at the partition. "Better unship -that," said the commissary. The commissary, I soon saw, was, by common -consent, the commanding officer of the party. We went to work; and in -no time the partition was cleverly removed, and stowed away on one -side. We thus made our small parlour a large one, with the additional -advantage of two fires instead of one for our culinary operations. -Gingham, meanwhile, had slipped out of the room; but returned in a few -minutes, looking quite innocent. He had been absent to some purpose, -as the result shortly proved. We now found full employment with the -herrings, roasting and toasting. Gingham, the captain, and the major, -at the larger fire; I and Mr Commissary Capsicum at the other. - -Gingham, when he left the room, had given his order; a _carte blanche_ -to the whole establishment to extemporise as handsome a breakfast as -circumstances would permit, with a special caveat against delay. - -Enter the waiter, with a tray, and a large tablecloth.--Previous -set-out transferred from the table to the tray, and placed on the -sideboard.--Two tables run into one--fresh tablecloth laid.--Exit -waiter. - -Enter waiter again, with plates, cups and saucers, knives, forks, and -spoons, basin, two sugar-basins--in short, all the apparatus of a -breakfast-table.--The whole laid, in the twinkling of an eye.--Exit -waiter. - -Enter waiter a third time, with a large tray--bread, (varieties,) -butter, water-cresses, ham, tongue, cold fillet of veal, cold chicken, -cold pigeon-pie, all the cold eatables.--Boots handed in from the -door a large block of quince marmalade, on a silver salver.--Boots -handed in small jars: potted shrimps, pickled oysters, pot of Scotch -honey, strawberry jam, other jams.--Boots handed in one larger jar, -a Portuguese conserve, _quartos de marmelas_. (N. B. quinces cut up -into lumps, and boiled in Brazilian sugar. Portuguese beat all the -world in sweetmeats, and _quartos de marmelas_ beat all the rest.) -I guessed Gingham had given the landlady the key of his travelling -store-chest.--Boots handed in milk, cream, clouted cream. Boots handed -in two splendid brass kettles of boiling water, one of which waiter -placed on each fire.--Exit waiter. - -A temporary pause. During this lull, the utmost energies of the -house were in exercise below, to provide with despatch the remaining -_matériel_ of our humble meal. I observed, from time to time, that he -of the commissariat eyed the preparations with peculiar benignity. It -was all in his way, as I subsequently had the pleasure of experiencing, -among the sources of the Adour and the Garonne. "Ever been with the -army?" said he.--"Never," said I; "but hope to be soon."--"Hope you'll -often dine with me. But don't spoil that fine bloater. There, hold it a -little further from the fire. Red herring should be toasted, not burnt -to death. Done, when the backbone is crisp; not before. But should not -be done quickly, like murder in Shakspeare. Do it slowly, my dear sir; -do it slowly. If you do it fast, you burn all the flavour out of it." I -saw he was a connoisseur. - -Yet--stupid, conceited, arrogant young coxcomb--so inexperienced was I -then, so indignant at the shadow of interference, so unaccustomed to -anything that bore the least semblance of control, I inwardly curled at -even these valuable and truly philanthropic suggestions--thought it all -exceedingly odd, and took it for dictation. - -Lots of bloaters were now toasted or roasted, and prepared for eating. -Just as we were ready, for the fourth time enter waiter, bringing eggs, -coffee-pot, two tea-pots, (tea and coffee ready,) muffins, hot buttered -rolls, &c., &c., &c. But among the _etceteras_ I really must pause, -to specify a certain delicate sort of round west-country breakfast -cake--piles of which were also brought in, buttered and smoking hot. -Gingham whispered the waiter, "Keep on bringing _them_." - -Gingham, with his usual judgment, had prohibited anything hot in the -shape of chops, steaks, cutlets, grills, rashers, or even kidneys. It -was a herring breakfast; and he excluded what would only have divided -the appetite, and interfered with the bloaters. - -We made a capital breakfast. Everything was excellent. The pile of -breakfast cakes received perpetual accessions, but never gained in -height. The bloaters, however, were the staple of our meal; and -Gingham's barrel suffered a considerable reduction. As we were all -sensible people, or wished to appear so, there was very little talk; -and what there was referred to the important business in hand. At -length it was clear that we had breakfasted. Gingham was beginning to -recommend the knick-knackeries--jams, pickled oysters, marmalade. Each -seemed disposed to pause, yet none had quite left off. Our guests were -evidently telegraphing, and exchanging looks of approval, when-- - -Enter the waiter once more, bringing, upon a silver tray, two curiously -shaped bottles cased in a sort of wicker-work, with glasses. A splendid -Italian liqueur! It was sipped, approved, tossed off with wonderful -despatch. One by one we gradually leaned back in our chairs, and the -bottles began to move round, as if spontaneously. That is, I cannot -exactly say I saw any one pass them; but from time to time, first here, -first there, I noticed a little finger pointing to the ceiling; a -movement which certainly had something to do with the progress of the -bottles. We sat, sipped, and chatted. Our breakfast was an accomplished -fact. - -"Hear, hear, hear!" Mr Commissary Capsicum was on his legs. Knuckles -rapped; glasses jingled; "Hear, hear, hear!"--The telegraphic -communications of his two friends had intimated to him their wishes: -the unexpected bonus of the liqueur, coming in at the last, had -awakened, in his own bosom, its most benevolent emotions: he rose to -acknowledge our hospitality; and in his friends' name, as well as in -his own, to invite us that day to dinner. - -His address I shall not attempt to report. It was brief, well-bred, and -well-expressed; had several good points, and was heard with immense -applause. He invited us to dinner; gave Gingham's health and mine; and -concluded by observing that, "conscious that he had not made a neat and -appropriate speech, he begged leave," (filling, and suiting the action -to the word,) "to drink long life and prosperity to us, in a neat and -appropriate bumper." Considering it was our first meeting, I did think -_that_ was a little broad. - -Gingham returned thanks, and gave the health of Major M--, R.A. Major -M-- returned thanks. - -I returned thanks, and gave the health of Captain Gabion, R.E. - -Captain Gabion returned thanks, sat down, and rose a second time, but -was anticipated by Gingham again, who gave the health of Mr Commissary -Capsicum. - -Mr Commissary Capsicum returned thanks. - -With respect to the dinner, it would not do. It was our last day before -sailing; Gingham had whole reams of letters to write; I also had -matters to attend to; we pleaded the circumstances, and begged to be -excused. Our friends saw the difficulty, and reluctantly accepted our -apologies. - -There was a moment's pause. Then all three rose from the table at once, -again thanked us politely for our hospitality, and withdrew to their -private apartments. Shortly after, looking out of the window, I saw -them walking down the street, all arm in arm, and each puffing a cigar. - -Gingham stood pensive by the fire, his elbow on the mantelpiece, his -head leaning on his hand. - -"I fear," said I, "your exertions to entertain your guests have wearied -you." - -He made no reply. I went up to him. He seemed to awake as from a -reverie. - -"Hang it!" said Gingham, in a plaintive tone, "there _should_ have been -some mashed potatoes." - -"Never mind, my dear sir--excellent breakfast; everything went off -capitally. I, for one, enjoyed it amazingly." - -"Yes," said Gingham, mournfully; "but, to make the thing complete, -there _should_ have been some mashed potatoes with the bloaters. -Had I only known of it in time! By the bye," added he, "I thought -once or twice, you did not seem entirely at your ease. Nothing more -gentlemanly, my dear sir, than your general manner. But at times, it -struck me, you did appear a little--a little--stiffish. You must get -rid of that before we reach headquarters." - -"Well," said I, "I'll tell you. That 'captain' stuck in my gizzard. -There's the truth. Coupled with what we heard previously, and Major -M--must have known that we heard it, it was just the same as calling me -a donkey to my face." - -"Oh, that's nothing," said Gingham. "Don't distress yourself about such -trifles as that." - -"To tell you the truth," said I, "the whole thing appeared to me a -little too free and easy. Here were you and I preparing to take a quiet -breakfast, when those three guerilla fellows, with their off-hand -Peninsular manners, actually took us by storm, made a most ferocious -attack on your barrel of herrings, sunk it one-third, drank up your -two bottles of liqueurs, and civilly wished us good morning. Now, when -I was at college, to be sure we were merry enough, no etiquette, no -ceremony there. But then there was a certain gentlemanly feeling, which -forbade vulgar familiarity in any shape. And as to people that assumed, -or made free, I always kept them at arm's length." - -"Well, Mr Y--," said Gingham, "I see plainly how it is. Follow my -advice. If you can't take a joke, resign your appointment, forfeit your -money, and return to London. You'll find it awkward enough living among -military men on actual service." - -"I trust," said I, "by adhering to my invariable rule, never to offer a -deliberate insult, but at the same time never to brook one, go where I -will, I shall be fortunate enough to escape disagreeable rencontres." - -"Nonsense!" said Gingham, looking very serious, and speaking quite -in a sharp and peremptory tone--"nonsense!" Then softening a little, -"Rencontres, my dear sir? Rencontres? Nothing of the kind. Rencontres? -You talk like a militia officer. Rencontres? You'll soon dismiss all -that kind of thing from your thoughts, after you have seen two or -three rencontres with the French. Rencontres? No, no; no field of -forty footsteps at headquarters. Rencontres? It would be a perfect -absurdity, where men have the chance of being shot gratis every day of -their lives, without going out of the way for it. Rencontres? No; I did -not mean that. What I meant to say was this: you would infallibly be -made a general butt. Rencontres? Why, Mr Y--, if you show any nonsense -of that sort, you'll be tormented to death. Rencontres? Oh, what lots -of fun they'll take out of you! Meanwhile, think yourself fortunate -that you are now getting a seasoning. I am truly glad, for your sake, -that you have had the opportunity here at Falmouth, and will have the -opportunity on your passage out, of seeing something of military men -and modes before you join. You may, and probably will, be dubbed, on -your arrival, a Johnny Newcome. But, at any rate, you will not be a -Johnny Raw." - -Gingham closed the conference by walking to the other end of the room, -and steadfastly contemplating his own beautiful physiognomy in the -glass. During our conversation, his hand had frequently visited his -nose. He now stood opposite the mirror, slewing his head first this -way, then that, and at length broke silence:-- - -"Well, I was not aware of it; but I do think that my nose is a little -crooked." - -"I presume," said I, "you have no sisters?" - -"I have none," replied Gingham. - -"Nor are you, I apprehend, a married man?" - -"There, alas, you are right again," said Gingham; "but what has that to -do with it?" - -"Your wife, or your sisters, if you had any, would have told you that -you have a very crooked nose." - -"Well, but," said Gingham, "there's my mother. My dear mother never -told me that my nose was crooked." - -"Your mother, probably, is totally unconscious of the fact; and, -should she hear any one else assert such a thing, would deny it most -strenuously." - -"Nay, but," said Gingham, "though I have neither sister nor wife, and -supposing my dear mother to be blind to my personal defects, I have--in -short, Mr Y--, before I left London, I took a tender leave of her whom -I hope to persuade, on my next return from the Peninsula, to accept the -hand and the heart of a Gingham. SHE did not tell me that my nose was -crooked. She mentioned various obstacles to our union; but she never -mentioned _that_." - -"Then," said I, "depend upon it, she means to have you. And depend upon -this, too; she will tell you your nose is crooked when you have made -her Mrs Gingham, if she does not tell you so before." - -"As to my walking sideways," said Gingham, "that's a palpable fiction." - -"Here," said I, "come to this extremity of the room, and place yourself -opposite the glass." He came, and placed himself accordingly. - -"Now walk straight down upon, the glass, keeping your eye fixed upon -your reflected nose." - -"What nose? Which nose?" said Gingham, in a state of obvious alarm. "Do -you mean the nose in my face?" - -"I mean your nose in the glass." He walked as I had directed. - -"Well, really," said Gingham, it's extraordinary; it's very curious. -When I walk and look at my nose in the glass, it appears quite straight -again--just as it ought to be, in the middle of my face." - -"That's just it," said I. "Then you walk sideways. Depend upon it, if -you walked straight, your nose would appear crooked." - -He repeated the experiment again, and again, muttering to himself, -"Very remarkable, very curious; quite a natural phenomenon." - -"Don't distress yourself about your nose," said I; "it is a good enough -nose, in magnitude respectable, though not strictly rectilinear. Make -yourself easy; and say, with Erasmus, 'Nihil me poenitet hugeous -nasi.'" - - -CHAPTER III. - -Where Gingham got his classical knowledge, I had not at this time -ascertained. Certain it is, he was a very fair classic. But there was -one dreadful drawback to his character, and, in a man of his gravity, -a strange one: I mean his offensive, horrid practice of making most -atrocious Latin puns. A pun in English he viewed with utter contempt. -It stirred his bile. No English pun escaped his lips. But for a Latin -pun, he scrupled not to lay under contribution even the first-rate -Latin poets, Virgil, Ovid--nay, his favourite author, Horace; and if I, -influenced by bad example, was weak enough, in an unguarded moment, to -commit the same offence, he stole my puns, and made them again as his -own. - -On the eve of our embarkation we strolled forth, after an early -dinner, for a parting view of the sunset from the castle. Walking -up town, we met the man of rum, the sleep-murdering Macbeth of the -mail-coach. Still he was talking--for want of company, talking to -himself. But his eyes were set, half-closed, and dim; his aspect was -peculiarly meditative, and his course curvilinear. He had taken on -board _plus æquo_ of his own samples. Perceiving our approach, he -gave a lurch to clear us. But his legs, being not altogether under -management, brought him exactly in the direction which he sought -to shun; his stomach, which had already suffered so many assaults -in the coach, most unfortunately impinged upon my elbow; and again -it was "ugh!" His gummy eyes expanded, and gleamed on us like two -fresh-opened oysters. Awhile he gazed with drunken gravity; then, -turning round, bent over the roadside gutter, as if about to tumble -in, and jocosely imitated the operation of drawing a cork. His organs -of vision then assumed a slow movement of horizontal oscillation, and -gradually settled on a pastry-cook's shop over the way. Towards this -point he directed his zigzag approaches, recommencing his agreeable -conference with himself, in terms of which we could catch only the -words--"Archimedes--screw--pneumatic chemistry--soda water--pop!" He -left with us the odour of a very bad cigar, which led Gingham to remark -that he was "backy plenus" in more senses than one. - -The influence of bad example is dreadful. Emerging from the town in -our way to the castle, we met a merry party, male and female, all -equestrians save some six or eight, who occupied the interior and -exterior of a post-chaise. Gingham, who saw into a thing at once, -pronounced them a wedding party; and a buxom dame, who was mounted on -a lively little west country galloway, the bride. "Pony subit conjux," -said I. "Yes," said Gingham; "but if that dear lady rides so near the -carriage, oh! oh! oh! she will infallibly be capsized! 'Pony sub curru -nimium propinqui!'" We reached the hill in time, saw a glorious sunset, -and returned to letter-writing, and a light supper on hashed duck. - -As Gingham appears more than once upon the stage in the course of -my Peninsular adventures, and I should really be sorry to annoy the -reader, as much as I was annoyed myself, with his perpetual and -abominable perversions of classic latinity, I beg leave to dispose -of this part of the subject at once, before we get to sea. Suffice -it to say, then, that in the spring of the year 1838, just a quarter -of a century after the period of which I am now writing, I once more -left London for Falmouth, _en route_ to Lisbon, though with an object -far different from that of my voyage now to be recorded, and in a far -different capacity. Science, in these five-and-twenty years, had done -wonders; and I had secured my passage in London, not by a miserable tub -of a sailing packet, but by a well-found and fast Peninsular steamer. -The day before the steamer was to start from Falmouth, I walked down to -the water's side to take a view of her. On the quay stood Gingham. By -one of those strange coincidences which sometimes happen in life, we -had again met at Falmouth, and were again to cross the Bay of Biscay in -company. I recognised him: he did not recognise me. Time had somewhat -changed his look, his dress very little. Its predominant aspect was -still white. His nose, too, was unmistakeable. Perceiving at once that -he was, like myself, a passenger to the Peninsula, I availed myself of -the freedom conceded in such cases, and commenced a conversation by -some remark on the steamer. - -"I presume, sir," said he, "you are a passenger?" - -"Yes, Mr Gingham, and so are you. Glad to meet you." He stared, but -admitted the fact. - -"But, sir," said he, "you have the advantage of me." - -"Well, well," said I, "you'll find me out to-morrow on board the -Guadalquivir. Fine ship that. To-morrow, you know, as Horace said, when -he was off by the steamer:-'Cras, ingins! iterabimus æquor!" - -The effect was instantaneous. Gingham did not speak, he shouted:--"Dine -with me: I have got a john dory." - -We walked off to the town--I rubbing my shoulder, which Gingham shook, -when he shook my hand--he, for a few paces, thoughtful and silent. I -expected a burst of sentiment. - -"By the bye," said Gingham, "while your hand was in, you might just -as well have quoted the _other_ line, for that, also, refers to our -voyage." - -"The other line?" - -"Yes, the other line. Don't you see that pair of rooks flying over the -harbour?" - -"Rooks fly in droves. I see no rooks." - -"Right," said he; "they are a couple of crows." - -"But the line from Horace, referring to our voyage?" - -"Not only referring to it," said Gingham, "but highly encouraging. 'Nil -desperandum two crow duce, et auspice two crow." - -"Gingham, you are incorrigible." - -To reach the street from the water's side we had to pass through a -narrow passage, and there met the stewardess of the steamer, who was -going on board. She stalked along in clogs on tiptoe, her left hand -gathering up, behind, her cloak, gown, petticoat, &c., while her right -hand bore an umbrella one size larger than a parasol, and a reticule -one size less than a pannier; emerging from which pannier appeared -the ugly mug of an enormous Portuguese red ram cat, the pet of the -stewardess, and the constant companion of her Peninsular voyages. - -"My cat inter omnes," said Gingham. - - * * * * * - -But I have rambled, and am a quarter of a century wide of the mark. -The period of which I have now to write, the important period to which -my present narrative refers, is not the more recent year, 1838, but -the remoter year, 1813, glorious in the annals of England; the year -that saw the commencement of Napoleon's downfall; the year of triumph -and rout beneath the walls of Vittoria; the year of a still sterner -and equally successful conflict at St Sebastian; the year, too, that -furnished a name for a princess of a royal line, that QUEEN VICTORIA -who, in her high estate and royal clemency, remembered and rewarded the -long-forgotten and long unrecompensed heroes of those bygone times. -In the early spring of that year, 1813, I was there at Falmouth, a -raw youth, launched on the wide world in search of adventure, burning -to reach the headquarters of the Peninsular army, fully capable of -making a fool of myself when I got there, and anxiously waiting for -the sailing of the Princess Wilhelmina gun-brig, which, for want of a -better, performed the office of Lisbon packet. It was well for me that, -at Falmouth, I had already fallen into friendly hands. - -On the morning of our embarkation, March the--th, 1813, Gingham went -early on board the packet, for his personal baggage was bulky and -various, to see to its stowage--part in his berth, part in the hold. -It was settled between us that he was to return ashore, that we were -to breakfast together at the hotel, and afterwards go off together to -the packet, which was still lying in the harbour, and was to sail about -noon. - -I waited breakfast for Gingham, but no Gingham came. At length I -received a long note from him, dated on board the packet. It began by -stating that an attempt had been made to impose upon him, and that he -was determined not to stand it. The attempted imposition, as I learned -from him afterwards, was this:-- - -Gingham walked down from the hotel to the water's side, and engaged a -boat, which was to take him on board the packet for eighteen-pence; -he, Gingham, understanding thereby, according to the tenor of many -previous bargains at the same rate of payment, that he was to be taken -on board, and put on shore again. On this, however, the last day of -our abode at Falmouth, the two boatmen, thinking they might safely try -it on, and conjecturing also that Gingham's time might possibly be too -valuable to be wasted in discussion, determined to take a different -view of the subject, and exact a second fare for landing him. The boat -reached the packet, Gingham went on board, the boatmen made fast to -a harbour-buoy, and waited the result. Gingham went below, made his -arrangements, came on deck, and hailed his boat to take him ashore. The -elder boatman civilly touched his hat, and remarked, with a winning -smile, that they hadn't been paid "nuffin" for bringing him _on board_. -Gingham replied, that he should pay as usual when they had got back to -the quay. The boatman, courteous as before, again touched his hat, and -answered, simpering, "Beg your pardon, sir, but this ear last day, when -the peckit's hoff, jeddlemen hol-ways pays bode ways, cumin aboard, -and goon back again." "Oh, do they?" said Gingham, and walked down -into the cabin, where he quietly wrote his note to me, in a hand that -beat copperplate; and breakfasted upon sea biscuit, junk, and ship's -cocoa, the steward not having yet got off his stock of groceries for -the voyage. Everybody on board knew Gingham, and he had no difficulty -in getting his note brought ashore in the ship's boat, without the -knowledge of the two 'longshore fellows, who were riding at the buoy, -and who still thought they had the best of the bargain--as it is a rule -in harbour, or at any rate was in those days, that no private passenger -by a packet passed or repassed except by 'longshore boats. Gingham was -now all right, and did not care one farthing for the boatmen; for he -already had the bulk of his things on board, he was on board himself, -and his note advised me respecting his remaining matters ashore. He -continued below, having resolved, as he told me afterwards, to keep the -boatmen waiting alongside till the packet was off, and then give them -ninepence. Meanwhile he sent up, by the steward, an injunction to the -people on deck, who enjoyed not a little the false position of the two -boatmen, not on any account to let them come on board. - -Gingham's note to me, which was, as I have already intimated, a -beautiful specimen of commercial penmanship, was to the following -effect:--That he was detained on board by his determination to resist -a gross imposition; that the laundress had still in her keeping a -small quantity of his linen, which she was to bring to the hotel about -breakfast-time; that he had settled with the servants that morning; -and that the landlady was indebted to him in the sum of two shillings, -he having paid his bill the night before, in which bill was included -the charge of two shillings for a cold-meat breakfast, which he should -not take; that he requested me to get back the two shillings from -the landlady; that he would also thank me to receive the linen from -the laundress, see that it was correct per invoice, (washing-bill, I -presume,) check her account, liquidate it, and bring the linen on board -with me. - -Meanwhile a circumstance arose, which was of great moment in itself, -and gave Gingham a further advantage in his affair with the two -Falmouth lads. An extra mail for Lisbon had arrived from London, -sent off by despatch to catch the packet before she sailed; and, by -management of Gingham's partners, who were influential people, brought -Gingham letters on a matter of some importance. These letters were -taken off to Gingham by a trusty drab-coated Falmouth "Friend," in -another 'longshore boat, and rendered it absolutely requisite that he -should go ashore, and perhaps defer his voyage. The packet at this -time was surrounded with boats and bustle, the two boatmen still -fast to the buoy; and Gingham had no difficulty in returning ashore -by the boat which brought off his mercantile friend, without being -observed by them. In fact, they were half asleep, still secure, as they -thought, of their victim, and affording no small sport to the crew of -the packet, who saw how things were going. I shall only mention here, -that the communication, received by Gingham from London, related to -a grand financial speculation, an idea of his own, having reference -to the monetary transactions at headquarters, which were very large, -and as well conducted as circumstances permitted, but attended with -great difficulties, and considerable loss to the British government. -Gingham's plan would have been backed by private capital to any amount. -It was knocked on the head by the peace of 1814: but I have more to say -about it hereafter. - -True to her time, the laundress arrived at the hotel; not bringing, as -Gingham had described it, a small quantity of linen, but attended by -a man with a barrow, wheeling two large buck-baskets, each piled with -an immense heap of shirts, white inexpressibles, white double-breasted -dimity waistcoats,--in short every thing white,--a stock for a voyage -to China. On the interior of the collar of one of the said white -double-breasted dimity waistcoats, I noticed the cypher G G!--No. - 37 -1 of the fourth dozen! So profuse was Gingham in his provision for the -habiliment of his own elegant exterior. I settled with the laundress, -engaged the barrow-man to go off with me in charge of the linen, and -take back the baskets, finished my breakfast, paid my bill, and went on -board. Such was my first embarkation for the Peninsula. Little dreaming -that there was a spoke in my wheel, and that some time was still to -elapse between my departure from Falmouth and my arrival at the British -headquarters, I had longed for the day of the packet's sailing. But -now, when the wished-for moment had arrived, a lot of little things, -coming upon me at the last, quite put it out of my head that I was -quitting my native land, and about to enter on new scenes, mingle -with strangers, embark in active life, and master--where alone they -could be mastered, on their vernacular soil--two ancient, expressive, -and kindred languages, which I had conned rudimentally on the banks -of Cam. Nor did I dream that I went to earn a prospective claim to a -Peninsular Medal; and jot down mental memoranda, still vividly legible, -of all I heard and saw, for the information and amusement of readers -then unborn. "Gooin' off to the peckit, sir? Here, Bill, hand the -jeddleman's boxes." Then, when we were half way to the brig,--"Wherry -'ot on the worter, sir. Ope you'll be ginnerous a little hextry for the -luggidge, sir. Wherry dry work pullin', sir." - -Gingham, when I reached the packet, was not on board. The cause of his -absence was explained to me by the steward, who assisted in stowing -away the contents of the two buck-baskets in Gingham's berth. During -this operation, the steward, who fully participated in the antipathy -to 'longshore boatmen common to his class, communicated to me, with no -small glee, the occurrences of the morning; and begged me to take a -sight, when I went on deck, of the two expectant gentlemen at the buoy. -There they were, sure enough, very much at their ease--quite satisfied -that Gingham would want to be taken ashore again before the packet -sailed, that theirs was the boat that must take him, and that they had -the game in their own hands. - -On deck I met our three breakfast guests of the day before. They -greeted me cordially, made many inquiries after Gingham, and introduced -me, as a particular old crony of theirs, to Staff-Surgeon Pledget, who -had arrived by the mail overnight, and was also a passenger to Lisbon, -on his return to the British army. I soon began to perceive that it was -a standing rule with my three new acquaintances, regular "Peninsulars," -to extract fun from even the most common incidents--in fact, from -everybody and everything. Staff-Surgeon Pledget, as able a man in his -profession as any staff-surgeon attached to the Peninsular army, was -matter-of-fact personified; and the dignified cordiality with which -he received an old crony of _theirs_, evidently afforded the three -hoaxers extraordinary sport. Major M---- did the presentation with -perfect coolness and amenity. Gammon was his element. Mr Commissary -Capsicum winked his eye in the richest style of comedy, and nearly made -me spoil all by laughing. Captain Gabion looked gravely on, and laughed -internally. His sides shook, his elbows twitched, and his countenance -wore its usual expression of melancholy. - -Presently after was seen approaching a man-of-war's boat, pulling at -the steady rate, which indicated that it conveyed an officer of rank. -The boat came alongside with a graceful sweep; twelve oars stood -upright, as if by magic; and a tall, military-looking man, who had -lost an arm, rose, politely took leave of the lieutenant in charge of -the boat, ascended the ship's side, with the aid of his single hand, -faster than some people perform the same difficult operation with two, -and stood on deck. This was the brave Colonel ---- of the cavalry, -who was going out with us to rejoin his regiment. He had lost his -arm at Oporto, on that memorable occasion when the French, to their -astonishment, found the British army on _their_ side of the Douro; and -when the British army, too, quite surprised at finding itself, as if by -magic, on the _opposite_ bank of a broad, deep, and rapid river, and -struck with admiration at the bold conception and skilful execution -which had effected the transition under the enemy's nose, with one -consent dubbed its illustrious leader "Old Douro." By that title, -from that time forward, he was commonly known at headquarters: and is -it not a glorious one, so won, and so conferred, and truly worthy of -descending in his family? On that occasion, I was told, Colonel ---- -charged through the enemy at the head of his regiment, and, as one good -turn deserves another, thought he might as well charge back again. It -was in this second charge that he lost his arm. - -Arrived on deck, the colonel made a somewhat semicircular bow to all -of us, and immediately recognised Major M----. His valet followed him, -and presently went below. The next moment, the colonel began to take a -first view of the vessel, and turned from us for that purpose. Captain -Gabion, first nudging Mr Commissary Capsicum, whispered Major M----, -"Come, major, give us the colonel." The major, having an arm too many, -in a twinkling whipped one behind him, stepped to the gangway, and did -the colonel's first appearance to the life. To execute the colonel's -recognition of himself, for want of a better substitute, he advanced, -with the colonel's three military strides, to _me_. I, carried away by -the drollery of the scene, so far forgot myself that I did the major. -This caused a general laugh; the colonel turned round, and caught me -and the major bowing, grimacing, and shaking hands. He saw at once what -had been going on, and laughed too. But the major wished to shift the -responsibility. "That Pledget," said he, "keeps us in a constant roar." -Mr Staff-Surgeon Pledget looked a little surprised. When the major -gave us the colonel's horizontal salutation to the company assembled, -Pledget took it all in earnest, and bowed in return. - -One other arrival followed. A shore boat came off, having four more -passengers--a lady, two gentlemen, and a female attendant. One of the -said gentlemen, an Irishman, was the lady's brother: she, in face -and form, a perfect specimen of Irish beauty; he, both in person -and in feature, all that might be expected in the brother of such a -sister. In this respect he presented a remarkable contrast to their -fellow-passenger, who was a young Irish officer of the East India -Company's navy, and, what made it more remarkable, the accepted -swain, as we afterwards had every reason to conclude, of his fair -countrywoman. How shall I describe this lovely youth? His head was -large; his face prodigiously large and _flat_; his features were -ludicrously diminutive. Fancy a full moon seen broad and white through -a Shetland mist--in short, a full moon of putty; then fancy, stuck -exactly in the centre of this moon, the little screwed-up pug face of a -little ugly monkey, and you have him to a T. His two little twinkling -eyes, deep sunk beneath the beetling brow of his prominent and massive -forehead, and in such close proximity that nothing separated them but -the bridge of his nose, were constantly and inquisitively on the -move. The nose itself was too insignificant to merit a description. -Yet it was not exactly what is called a squashed nose, but a nose -without a nib. It conveyed to you, indeed, the painful impression that -some unfeeling barber had sliced off its extremity, and left the two -unprotected nostrils staring you full in the face, like the open ports -of a ship. His ears were like an elephant's,--large, loose, thin, -flat, and un-hemmed. His mouth, like that described by a distinguished -authoress, "had a physiognomy of its own." Not very observable when -quiescent, in speaking it became curiously expressive, and, at times, -enormously elongated or strangely curvilinear. It had also, under the -same circumstances, another peculiarity. It was a travelling mouth: -yes, it travelled. When it talked, it was constantly shifting its -position, not only up and down, but sideways and obliquely. In the -utterance of a single sentence, it would traverse the whole extent of -his face. It was now high, now low; now on this side, now on that. -It ranged, at will, the whole breadth of his countenance from ear to -ear; so that at times he was all mouth on one side of his face, and no -mouth on the other. This gave him the additional advantage, that his -profile could maintain a dialogue with you, as well as another man's -full face. When conversing with his lady-love, side by side at the -dinner-table, he never turned to look at her--he had no need. Viewing -her with one eye, like a duck, in tones of deferential tenderness he -addressed her from the cheek that was nearest hers. His perfectly -well-bred deportment, nay, elegance of manner, his inexhaustible fund -of good humour, and amusing waggery, did not, I am sorry to say, -prevent his acquiring, and bearing during the voyage, the name of -Joey: allusive, I presume, to the feats of mouth performed in those -days by the far-famed Grimaldi. The malevolent suspicion, that a title -so derogatory was any suggestion of mine, I scorn to notice. To this, -however, I do confess, that, ere we had been four-and-twenty hours at -sea, as a slight token of my profound veneration for the stateliest -and the loveliest of Erin's daughters, I proposed, and it was carried -unanimously, that she should bear the name of Juno. And, the colonel -having pronounced her brother a perfect Apollo, I also proposed, -and it was also carried unanimously, that we should call him Mr -Belvidere. But I am anticipating. On the practice of giving sobriquets, -so common at headquarters, much remains to be said hereafter. As -to the maid-servant, she was a quiet little Irishwoman of about -five-and-thirty, in a duffle cloak with pink bows, snug straw bonnet -neatly tied under her chin with a pink ribbon, and snow-white cotton -stockings, exhibiting a rather broad instep, which led me to conjecture -that she had not always worn shoes. Her mistress called her Kitty, and -that name she was allowed to keep, as no one on board thought he could -improve it. - -It is time to get to sea. Gingham, where are you? what are you about? -We shall be off, and leave you behind. Noon, our hour of sailing, was -now near at hand. The anchor was hove short; the sails were shaking in -the wind; the skipper came on board; the foresail was then set; still -there was no Gingham. Those talented individuals, the two boatmen, -still supposing Gingham was on board, were getting a little uneasy. -They were now wide awake, and anxiously peering at the ship with -their hands over their eyes, watching every one that came on deck, -but watching in vain. Their uneasiness evidently increased, as our -remaining time diminished; till at length, as the town clock struck -twelve, the capstan was manned. The anchor was then hove to the tune of -"Off she goes," performed on a single fife in admirable time, marked by -the tread of many feet. The flood-tide was beginning to make; but we -didn't care for that, as we had wind enough from the north-east, and -to spare. Other sails were now set, and we were beginning to get way; -while I was intently eyeing the shore, expecting to see Gingham shove -off, and perfectly sure he would come, because he had taken no steps -for the re-landing of his baggage. - -But I did not look in the right direction. Gingham, detained to the -last moment, and then, having settled all things to his satisfaction, -at liberty to prosecute his voyage, had made his arrangements with his -usual judgment. It was a near thing though. He put off from a part of -the town lower down than the quay from which he usually embarked, so -as to cut in upon us as we glided down the harbour; and was within a -few fathoms of the ship before I saw him. He was then standing upright -in his boat, completely absorbed in a London paper, but with one hand -waving his umbrella, without looking up, to stop the ship. Stopping -the ship was out of the question. Indeed, I fancied the skipper would -have been glad to go without him. The boat, coming end on, and not very -cleverly handled by the Falmouth fellows, bumped against the side of -the ship, which, as she was now under way, they were afraid of missing -altogether; and the shock almost pitched Gingham and his umbrella into -the water. He came on board amidst general laughter, and the hearty -greetings of such of the passengers as knew him--none heartier than -mine. "How his green spectacles would have frightened the fishes!" said -Mr Commissary Capsicum to Captain Gabion. "Don't joke on such a serious -subject," replied the captain; "had he gone over, we should have -quitted England without getting a sight of the last London newspaper." - -The two worthies, who, still expecting to see Gingham emerge from -the cabin, had so long waited for him in vain, were by this time in -an awkward predicament. When the ship first began to move, they had -no resource but to unmoor from the buoy, out oars, and pull away in -company. But this, it was soon clear, would not do. The ship was -getting more and more way, and, had they pulled their hearts out, would -soon have left them astern; when, as their only chance, they pulled -close alongside, and made free with a rope's end that was dragging -through the water. This one of them held, after giving it a turn round -a bench; while the other kept off the boat from the ship's side by -means of the boat-hook. While they were being thus dragged through the -water, each, as he could, from time to time touching his hat, each -beseechingly simpering, each saying something that nobody could hear, -and both anxiously looking for Gingham on deck, to their great surprise -they saw him come alongside in another boat, as I have already related; -and, before they could say Jack Robinson, he was on board. - -After our first greetings, I called Gingham's attention to the -disagreeable position of our two friends, who were still holding on -alongside, and dragging through the water. Indeed, I was disposed to -hold an argument with him on the subject, and thought a different view -might be taken of their case. "No, no," said Gingham; "this is the -first time any Falmouth man has ever attempted to impose upon me, and I -mean it to be the last." - -The breeze, no unusual circumstance in such localities, stiffened -as we approached the entrance of the harbour, where the high land -closes in, and the sea-way is comparatively narrow; and, meeting the -swell which came tumbling in from the ocean with the flood-tide, -knocked up a little bit of an ugly ripple. The situation of the two -boatmen was becoming every moment more awkward. We were now going six -knots, (through the _water_, mind you, not _making_ six knots--that, -against such a current, was quite beyond our tubby little Wilhelmina's -capabilities;) the ripple was gradually becoming nastier; the boatmen, -still touching their hats from time to time, still blandly smiling, and -still making unheard but pathetic appeals to Gingham's generosity, did -not like to let go till they had got _something_; and I really thought -the end must be, that their boat would be swamped alongside. At length, -Gingham put an end to the farce, by screwing up ninepence in a bit of -paper, and throwing it into the boat, telling them it was threepence -more than they deserved. They then let go; and we left them poppling up -and down, like a cork, in the broken water, and scuffling about in the -bottom of the boat for the scattered coin. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[16] For the benefit of the uninitiated, -assistant-deputy-paymaster-general; A. A. D. P. -M. G., acting-assistant-deputy-paymaster-general; -a long title, but not so long, by four syllables, -as that of the letter-carrier of a certain German -war-office--Ober-kriegsversammlungrathsverhandlungpapieraufhebergehülfe. - - - - -DISENCHANTMENT. - -BY DELTA. - - - I. - - Although from Adam stained with crime, - A halo girds the path of time, - As 'twere things humble with sublime, - Divine with mortal blending, - And that which is, with that which seems,-- - Till blazoned o'er were Jacob's dreams - With heaven's angelic hosts, in streams, - Descending and ascending. - - II. - - Ask of the clouds, why Eden's dyes - Have vanished from the sunset skies? - Ask of the winds, why harmonies - Now breathe not in their voices? - Ask of the spring, why from the bloom - Of lilies comes a less perfume? - And why the linnet, 'mid the broom, - Less lustily rejoices? - - III. - - Silent are now the sylvan tents; - The elves to airy elements - Resolved are gone; grim castled rents - No more show demons gazing, - With evil eyes, on wandering men; - And, where the dragon had his den - Of fire, within the haunted glen, - Now herds unharmed are grazing.[17] - - - IV. - - No more, as horror stirs the trees, - The path-belated peasant sees - Witches, adown the sleety breeze, - To Lapland flats careering:[18] - As on through storms the Sea-kings sweep, - No more the Kraken huge, asleep, - Looms like an island, 'mid the deep, - Rising and disappearing. - - V. - - No more, reclined by Cona's streams, - Before the seer, in waking dreams, - The dim funereal pageant gleams, - Futurity fore-showing; - No more, released from churchyard trance, - Athwart blue midnight, spectres glance, - Or mingle in the bridal dance, - To vanish ere cock-crowing.[19] - - VI. - - Alas! that Fancy's fount should cease! - In rose-hues limn'd, the myths of Greece - Have waned to dreams--the Colchian fleece, - And labours of Alcides:-- - Nay, Homer, even thy mighty line-- - Thy living tale of Troy divine-- - The sceptic scholiast doubts if thine, - Or Priam, or Pelides! - - VII. - - As silence listens to the lark, - And orient beams disperse the dark, - How sweet to roam abroad, and mark - Their gold the fields adorning: - But, when we think of where are they, - Whose bosoms like our own were gay, - While April gladdened life's young day, - Joy takes the garb of mourning. - - VIII. - - Warm gushing thro' the heart come back - The thoughts that brightened boyhood's track; - And hopes, as 'twere from midnight black, - All star-like re-awaken; - Until we feel how, one by one, - The faces of the loved are gone, - And grieve for those left here alone, - Not those who have been taken. - - IX. - - The past returns in all we see, - The billowy cloud, and branching tree; - In all we hear--the bird and bee - Remind of pleasures cherish'd; - When all is lost it loved the best, - Oh! pity on that vacant breast, - Which would not rather be at rest, - Than pine amid the perish'd! - - X. - - A balmy eve! the round white moon - Emparadises midmost June, - Tune trills the nightingale on tune-- - What magic! when a lover, - To him, who now, gray-haired and lone, - Bends o'er the sad sepulchral stone - Of her, whose heart was once his own: - Ah! bright dream briefly over! - - XI. - - See how from port the vessel glides - With streamered masts, o'er halcyon tides; - Its laggard course the sea-boy chides, - All loath that calms should bind him; - But distance only chains him more, - With love-links, to his native shore, - And sleep's best dream is to restore - The home he left behind him. - - XII. - - To sanguine youth's enraptured eye, - Heaven has its reflex in the sky, - The winds themselves have melody, - Like harp some seraph sweepeth; - A silver decks the hawthorn bloom, - A legend shrines the mossy tomb, - And spirits throng the starry gloom, - Her reign when midnight keepeth. - - XIII. - - Silence o'erhangs the Delphic cave; - Where strove the bravest of the brave, - Naught met the wandering Byron, save - A lone, deserted barrow; - And Fancy's iris waned away, - When Wordsworth ventured to survey, - Beneath the light of common day, - The dowie dens of Yarrow. - - XIV. - - Little we dream--when life is new, - And Nature fresh and fair to view, - When throbs the heart to pleasure true, - As if for naught it wanted,-- - That, year by year, and ray by ray, - Romance's sunlight dies away, - And long before the hair is gray, - The heart is disenchanted. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[17] A clearer day has dispelled the marvels, which showed themselves -in heaven above and in earth beneath, when twilight and superstition -went hand in hand. Horace's - - "Somnia, terrores magicos, miracula, sagas, - Nocturnos Lemures, portentaque Thessala," - -as well as Milton's - - "Gorgons, Hydras, and Chimæras dire," - -have all been found wanting, when reduced to the admeasurements of -science; and the "sounds that syllable men's names, on sands, and -shores, and desert wildernesses," are quenched in silence, or only -exist in what James Hogg most poetically terms - - "That undefined and mingled hum, - Voice of the desert, never dumb." - -The inductive philosophy was "the bare bodkin" which gave many a -pleasant vision "its quietus." "Homo, naturæ minister," saith Lord -Bacon, "et interpres, tantum facit et intelligit, quantum de naturæ -ordine se vel mente observaverit: nec amplius scit nec potest."--_Nov. -Organum_, Aph. I. - -The fabulous dragon has long acted a conspicuous part in the poetry -both of the north and south. We find him in the legends of Regnar -Lodbrog and Kempion, and in the episode of Brandimarte in the second -book of the Orlando Inamorato. He is also to be recognised as the huge -snake of the Edda; and figures with ourselves in the stories of the -Chevalier St George and the Dragon--of Moor of Moorhall and the Dragon -of Wantley--in the Dragon of Loriton--in the Laidley Worm of Spindleton -Heugh--in the Flying Serpent of Lockburne--the Snake of Wormieston, -&c. &c. Bartholinus and Saxo-Grammaticus volunteer us some curious -information regarding a species of these monsters, whose particular -office was to keep watch over hidden treasure. The winged Gryphon is -of "auld descent," and has held a place in unnatural history from -Herodotus (_Thalia_, 116, and _Melpomene_, 13, 27) to Milton (_Paradise -Lost_, book v.)-- - - "As when a Gryphon, through the wilderness, - With wingèd course, o'er hill or moory dale, - Pursues the Arimaspian," &c. - - - -[18] Of the many mysterious chapters of the human mind, surely one of -the most obscure and puzzling is that of witchcraft. For some reason, -not sufficiently explained, Lapland was set down as a favourite seat of -the orgies of the "Midnight Hags." When, in the ballad of "The Witch -of Fife," the auld gudeman, in the exercise of his conjugal authority, -questions his errant spouse regarding her nocturnal absences without -leave, she is made ecstatically to answer, - - "Whan we came to the Lapland lone, - The fairies war all in array; - For all the genii of the North - War keepyng their holyday. - The warlocke man and the weird womyng, - And the fays of the woode and the steep, - And the phantom hunteris all were there, - And the mermaidis of the deep. - And they washit us all with the witch-water, - Distillit fra the moorland dew, - Quhill our beauty bloomit like the Lapland rose, - That wylde in the foreste grew." - - _Queen's Wake_, Night 1st. - -"Like, but oh how different," are these unearthly goings on to -the details in the Walpurgis Night of Faust (Act v. Scene 1.) The -"phantom-hunters" of the north were not the "Wilde Jäger" of Burger, or -"the Erl-king" of Goethe. It is related by Hearne, that the tribes of -the Chippewas Indians suppose the northern lights to be occasioned by -the frisking of herds of deer in the fields above, caused by the hallo -and chase of their departed friends. - -[19] It is very probable, that the apparitional visit of "Alonzo the -Brave" to the bridal of "the Fair Imogene," was suggested to M. G. -Lewis, by the story in the old chronicles of the skeleton masquer -taking his place among the wedding revellers, at Jedburgh Castle, on -the night when Alexander III., in 1286, espoused as his second queen, -Joleta, daughter of the Count le Dreux. These were the palmy days of -portents; and the prophecy uttered by Thomas of Ercildoune, of the -storm which was to roar - - "From Ross's hills to Solway sea," - -was supposed to have had its fulfilment in the death of the lamented -monarch, which occurred, only a few months after the appearance of the -skeleton masquer, by a fall from his horse, over a precipice, while -hunting between Burntisland and Kinghorn, at a place still called "the -King's Wood-end." - -Wordsworth appears to have had the subject in his eye, in two of the -stanzas of his lyric, entitled _Presentiments_,--the last of which runs -as follows:-- - - "Ye daunt the proud array of war, - Pervade the lonely ocean far - As sail hath been unfurled, - For dancers in the festive hall - What ghostly partners hath your call - Fetched from the shadowy world." - - --_Poetical Works_, 1845, p. 176. - -The same incident has been made the subject of some very spirited -verses, in a little volume--_Ballads and Lays from Scottish -History_--published in 1844; and which, I fear, has not attracted the -attention to which its intrinsic merits assuredly entitle it. - - - - -ACROSS THE ATLANTIC.[20] - - -Another book from the active pen of our American acquaintance, the able -seaman. The question having been raised whether Mr Herman Melville -has really served before the mast, and has actually, like the heroine -of a well-known pathetic ballad, disfigured his lily-white fingers -with the nasty pitch and tar, he does his best to dissipate all such -doubts by the title-page of his new work, on which, in large capitals, -is proclaimed that _Redburn_ is "_The Sailor-boy Confessions and -Reminiscences of the son of a gentleman in the merchant service_;" and, -collaterally, by a dedication to his younger brother, "_now a sailor -on a voyage to China_." An unmerited importance has perhaps been given -to the inquiry whether Mr Melville's voyages were made on quarterdeck -or on forecastle, and are genuine adventures or mere Robinsonades. The -book, not the writer, concerns the critic; and even as there assuredly -are circumstances that might induce a youth of gentle birth and -breeding to don flannel shirt, and put fist in tar-bucket as a merchant -seaman, so the probably unpleasant nature of those circumstances -precludes too inquisitive investigation into them. We accept Mr -Melville, therefore, for what he professes to be, and we accept his -books, also, with pleasure and gratitude when good, just as we neglect -and reject them when they are the contrary. _Redburn_, we are bound -to admit, is entitled to a more favourable verdict than the author's -last previous work. We do not like it so well as _Typee_ and _Omoo_; -and, although quite aware that this is a class of fiction to which one -cannot often return without finding it pall, by reason of a certain -inevitable sameness, we yet are quite sure we should not have liked it -so well as those two books, even though priority of publication had -brought it to a palate unsated with that particular sort of literary -diet. Nevertheless, after a decided and deplorable retrogression, Mr -Melville seems likely to go a-head again, if he will only take time and -pains, and not over-write himself, and avoid certain affectations and -pedantry unworthy a man of his ability. Many of the defects of _Mardi_ -are corrected in _Redburn_. We gladly miss much of the obscurity and -nonsense that abound in the former work. The style, too, of this one -is more natural and manly; and even in the minor matter of a title, we -find reason to congratulate Mr Melville on improved taste, inasmuch as -we think an English book is better fitted with an English-sounding name -than with uncouth dissyllables from Polynesia, however convenient these -may be found for the purposes of the puff provocative. - -_Redburn_ comprises four months of the life of a hardy wrong-headed -lad, who ships himself on board a trading vessel, for the voyage from -New York to Liverpool and back. As there is no question of shipwreck, -storm, pirates, mutiny, or any other nautico-dramatic incidents, during -Wellingborough Redburn's voyage out and home; and as the events of his -brief abode in England are neither numerous nor (with the exception -of one rather far-fetched episode) by any means extraordinary, it is -evident that a good deal of detail and ingenuity are necessary to -fill two volumes, on so simple and commonplace a theme. So a chapter -is devoted to the causes of his addiction to the sea, and shows how -it was that childish reminiscences of a seaport town, and stories of -maritime adventure told him by his father, who had many times crossed -the Atlantic, and visions of European magnificence, and, above all, -the frequent contemplation of an old-fashioned glass ship which stood -in his mother's sitting-room, and which is described with considerable -minuteness, and some rather feeble attempts at the facetious--how all -these things combined had imbued young Wellingborough with a strong -craving after salt water. Other circumstances concurred to drive him -forth upon the world. He hints at family misfortunes. His father had -been a merchant at New York, in a flourishing business. Things were now -less prosperous. "Some time previous, my mother had removed from New -York to a pleasant village on the Hudson river, where we lived in a -small house, in a quiet way. Sad disappointments in several plans which -I had sketched for my future life; the necessity of doing something for -myself, united to a naturally roving disposition, had now conspired -within me to send me to sea as a sailor." And yet it would appear -that he might have done better than plunge thus recklessly into the -hardships and evil associations of a merchantman's forecastle; for he -more than half admits that he was erring and wilful, and that he had -kind relatives and sympathising patrons, who would have put him in the -way of earning a living otherwise. Redburn, however, seems to have -been in some respects as precocious as in others we shall presently -find him simple and inexperienced. A mere boy, adversity had already -converted him into a misanthrope, at an age when most lads are as yet -without plans for their future, and know not disappointment in any -more important matters than a treat to the play, or an extra week's -holiday. The forwardness of the rising generation is remarkable enough -in England, and has been amusingly hit off by one of our cleverest -caricaturists. In America, therefore, which notoriously goes a-head of -the old country in most particulars, and whose inhabitants lay claim to -an extraordinary share of railroad and earthquake in their composition, -boyish precocity is possibly still more remarkable; and one must not -wonder at finding Master Redburn talking in misanthropic vein of the -world's treatment of him, how bleak and cheerless everything seemed, -and how "the warm soul of him had been flogged out by adversity." -This, at an age when the stinging memory of the schoolmaster's taws -must still have been tolerably vivid about the seat of his breeks, -seems rather absurd to begin with. It was under the influence of such -feelings, however, that this infant Timon left his home to cast his -lot upon the wide waters. His friends were evidently either very angry -with him or very poor; for they allowed him to depart with but one -dollar in his pocket, a big shooting-jacket with foxes' heads on the -buttons, and a little bundle, containing his entire kit, slung at the -end of the fowling-piece which his good-natured elder brother pressed -upon him at parting. Thus equipped, he tramps of to the steamer that -is to carry him down the Hudson, early on a raw morning, along a muddy -road, and through a drizzling rain. The skyey influences will at -times affect even the most stoical, and the dismal aspect of external -nature makes Master Redburn revert to his blighted prospects--how his -soul is afflicted with mildew, "and the fruit which, with others, is -only blasted after ripeness, with him is nipped in the first blossom -and bud." The blight he complains of is evidently of a most virulent -description, for it "leaves such a scar that the air of Paradise might -not erase it." As he has just before told us how, whilst walking along, -his fingers "worked moodily at the stock and trigger" of his brother's -rifle, and that he had thought this was indeed "the proper way to -begin life, with a gun in your hand," we feel, upon hearing him croak -so desperately, some apprehension for his personal safety, and think -his brother would have done as well to have kept his gun. On this last -point we quite make up our minds, when we shortly afterwards find him -levelling the weapon at the left eye of a steamboat passenger who is so -imprudent as to stare at him, and bullying the steward for demanding -the fare, (which is two dollars, whereas Redburn has but one,) and -looking cat-a-mounts at his less needy fellow-voyagers, because they -have the rudeness to enjoy their roast beef dinner, whilst he has had -the improvidence to leave home without even a crust in his wallet. It -seems the author's aim to start his hero in life under every possible -circumstance of disadvantage and hardship; and to do this, he rather -loses sight of probability. At last, however, Redburn reaches New York, -with gun and bundle, foxes' heads and shooting-jacket, and hastens to -visit a friend of his brother's, to whom he is recommended. A kind -welcome, good supper, and warm bed, go some way towards dissipating his -ill humour; and next morning the friend accompanies him to the docks -to seek a ship. But none of his brother's kindnesses prosper him. The -gun, as we have seen, has already led him to the verge of homicide, -the foxes' heads are yet to be the source of innumerable vexations; -and Mr Jones, a silly young man, does more harm than good, by taking -the direction of Redburn's affairs, and acting as his spokesman with -Captain Riga, of the regular trader, _Highlander_, then loading for -Liverpool. - - "We found the captain in the cabin, which was a very handsome one, - lined with mahogany and maple; and the steward, an elegant-looking - mulatto, in a gorgeous turban, was setting out, on a sort of - sideboard, some dinner-service which looked like silver, but it - was only Britannia ware highly polished. As soon as I clapped my - eye on the captain, I thought to myself he was just the captain - to suit me. He was a fine-looking man, about forty, splendidly - dressed, with very black whiskers and very white teeth, and what I - took to be a free frank look out of a large hazel eye. I liked him - amazingly." - -The scene that ensues is quietly humorous, and reminds us a good deal -of Marryat, in whose style of novel we think Mr Melville would succeed. -The upshot of the conference is that Redburn ships as a boy on board -the Highlander. By vaunting his respectability, and the wealth of his -relations, his injudicious friend furnishes Riga with a pretext for -withholding the customary advance of pay; and although the sale of the -fowling-piece to a Jew pawnbroker produces wherewith to purchase a red -woollen shirt, a tarpaulin hat, and jack-knife, Redburn goes on board -but slenderly provided. His reception is not very cheering. - - "When I reached the deck, I saw no one but a large man in a large - dripping pea-jacket, who was calking down the main-hatches. - - "'What do you want, Pillgarlic?' said he. - - "'I've shipped to sail in this ship,' I replied, assuming a little - dignity to chastise his familiarity. - - "'What for--a tailor?' said he, looking at my shooting-jacket. - - "I answered that I was going as a 'boy;' for so I was technically - put down on the articles. - - "'Well,' said he, 'have you got your traps aboard?' - - "I told him I didn't know there were any rats in the ship, and - hadn't brought any 'trap.' - - "At this he laughed out with a great guffaw, and said there must - be hay-seed in my hair. - - "This made me mad; but, thinking he must be one of the sailors who - was going in the ship, I thought it wouldn't be wise to make an - enemy of him, so only asked him where the men slept in the vessel, - for I wanted to put my clothes away. - - "'Where's your clothes?' said he. - - "'Here in my bundle,' said I, holding it up. - - "'Well, if that's all you've got,' he cried, 'you'd better chuck - it overboard. But go forward, go forward to the forecastle; that's - the place you live in aboard here.' - - "And with that he directed me to a sort of hole in the deck of the - bow of the ship; but looking down, and seeing how dark it was, I - asked him for a light. - - "'Strike your eyes together and make one,' said he, 'we don't have - any lights here.' So I groped my way down into the forecastle, - which smelt so bad of old ropes and tar, that it almost made me - sick. After waiting patiently, I began to see a little; and, - looking round, at last perceived I was in a smoky-looking place, - with twelve wooden boxes stuck round the sides. In some of these - boxes were large chests, which I at once supposed to belong to the - sailors, who must have taken that method of appropriating their - 'bunks,' as I afterwards found these boxes were called. And so it - turned out. - - "After examining them for a while, I selected an empty one, and - put my bundle right in the middle of it, so that there might be no - mistake about my claim to the place, particularly as the bundle - was so small." - -The ship is not to sail till the next day; the crew are not yet aboard; -there is no mess, and Redburn has no money. He passes a wretched -night in his evil-smelling bunk, and next morning is crawling about -the deck, weak from hunger, when he is accosted by the first mate, -who curses him for a lubber, asks his name, swears it is too long to -be handy, rebaptizes him by that of _Buttons_, and sets him to clean -out the pig-pen, and grease the main-topmast. Having accomplished -these savoury duties, and narrowly escaped falling overboard from -his unwonted elevation, Redburn is ordered to the quarterdeck, -where the men are divided into watches, and he falls to the lot of -his friend the first mate, who tries hard to get rid of him to Mr -Rigs, the second mate; but Mr Rigs refuses the tyro, even as a free -gift. Redburn now gets sea-sick, and, when ordered on deck to stand -the first night-watch, from eight o'clock to midnight, he, feeling -qualmish, requests one of the sailors to make his excuses very civilly -to the chief mate, for that he thinks he will go below and spend the -night in his bunk. The sailor, a good-natured Greenlander, laughs at -his simplicity, and doctors him with a canikin of rum and some ship -biscuits, which enable him to get through his watch. Minute incidents -of this kind, reflections, reminiscences, and thoughts of home, occupy -many chapters; and, at times, one is inclined to think they are dwelt -upon at too great length: but, as before hinted, it is necessary to do -something to fill two volumes. A slight inconsistency strikes us in -this first portion of the book. Redburn, a sharp enough lad on shore, -and who, it has been seen, is altogether precocious in experience -of the world's disappointments, seems converted, by the first sniff -of salt water, into as arrant a simpleton as ever made mirth in a -cockpit. Mr Melville must surely have had Peter Simple in his head, -when describing "Buttons" at his first deck-washing. "The water began -to splash about all over the decks, and I began to think I should -surely get my feet wet, and catch my death of cold. So I went to the -chief mate and told him I thought I would just step below, till this -miserable wetting was over; for I did not have any waterproof boots, -and an aunt of mine had died of consumption. But he only roared out -for me to get a broom, and go to scrubbing, or he would prove a worse -consumption to me than ever got hold of my poor aunt." Now Redburn, -from what has previously been seen of him, was evidently not the lad to -care a rush about wet soles, or even about a thorough ducking. On the -Hudson river steamer, he had voluntarily walked the deck in a dreary -storm till soaked through; and his first night on board the Highlander -had been passed uncomplainingly in wet clothes. He has borne hunger -and thirst and other disagreeables most manfully, and the impression -given of him is quite that of a stubborn hardy fellow. So that this -sudden fear of a splashing is evidently introduced merely to afford Mr -Melville opportunity of making a little mild fun, and is altogether -out of character. Equally so is the elaborate _naiveté_ with which -Redburn inquires of a sailor whether, as the big bell on the forecastle -"hung right over the scuttle that went down to the place where the -watch below were sleeping, such a ringing every little while would not -tend to disturb them, and beget unpleasant dreams." The account of -his attempts at intimacy with the captain, although humorous enough, -is liable to a similar objection; and, in so sharp a lad, such simple -blunders are not sufficiently accounted for by ignorance of sea usages. -His recollection of the bland urbanity with which Captain Riga had -received him and Mr Jones, when they first boarded the Highlander, -induces him to believe that he may reckon on sympathy and attention -in that quarter, when bullied by the rough sailors, and abused by the -snappish mate. He had vague ideas of Sunday dinners in the cabin, of an -occasional lesson in navigation, or an evening game at chess. Desirous -to realise these pleasant visions, but observing that the captain takes -no notice of him, and altogether omits to invite him aft, Buttons, as -he is now universally called on board the trader, thinks it may be -expected that he, the younger man, should make the first advances. His -pig-sty and chicken-coop cleanings have not greatly improved the aspect -of his clothes, or the colour of his hands; but a bucket of water gets -off the worst of the stains, and a selection from his limited wardrobe -converts him into a decent enough figure for a forecastle, although -he still would not have excited much admiration in Broadway or Bond -Street. - - "When the sailors saw me thus employed, they did not know what - to make of it, and wanted to know whether I was dressing to go - ashore. I told them no, for we were then out of sight of land, but - that I was going to pay my respects to the captain. Upon which - they all laughed and shouted, as if I were a simpleton; although - there seemed nothing so very simple in going to make an evening - call upon a friend. When some of them tried to dissuade me, saying - I was green and raw; but Jackson, who sat looking on, cried out - with a hideous grin--'Let him go, let him go, men; he's a nice - boy. Let him go; the captain has some nuts and raisins for him.' - And so he was going on, when one of his violent fits of coughing - seized him, and he almost choked.... For want of kids, I slipped - on a pair of woollen mittens, which my mother had knit for me to - carry to sea. As I was putting them on, Jackson asked me whether - he shouldn't call a carriage; and another bade me not forget - to present his best respects to the skipper. I left them all - tittering, and, coming on deck, was passing the cook-house, when - the old cook called after me, saying I had forgot my cane." - -The Jackson here referred to is a prominent character in the book, an -important personage amongst the inmates of the Highlander's forecastle. -He was a yellow-visaged, whiskerless, squinting, broken-nosed ruffian, -and his head was bald, "except in the nape of his neck and just behind -the ears, where it was stuck over with short little tufts, and looked -like a worn-out shoe-brush." He claimed near relationship with General -Jackson, was a good seaman and a great bully, and, although physically -weak, and broken down by excess and disease, the other sailors gave -way to, and even petted him. He had been at sea ever since his early -childhood, and he told strange wild tales of his experiences in -many lands and on many distant seas, and of perils encountered in -Portuguese slavers on the African coast, and of Batavian fevers and -Malay pirates, and the like horrible things, which composed, indeed, -all his conversation, save when he found fault with his shipmates, and -cursed, and reviled, and jeered at them--all of which they patiently -endured, as though they feared the devil that glared out of "his deep, -subtle, infernal-looking eye." All who have read _Omoo_, (the best -of Mr Melville's books,) will remember that the author is an adept -in the sketching of nautical originals. Jackson is by no means a bad -portrait, and doubtless he is "founded on fact;" although much of his -savage picturesqueness may be attributed to the clever pencil of his -former shipmate. Riga is another good hit. The handsome captain, with -the fine clothes and the shining black whiskers, who spoke so smooth -and looked so sleek when his craft lay moored by New York quay, is -altogether another sort of character when once the anchor is up. Seamen -never judge a captain by his shore-going looks. Tyrants and martinets -afloat are often all simper and benevolence across a mahogany plank -ashore. But certainly there never was a more thorough metamorphosis -than a four-and-twenty hours' sail produced in Captain Riga. His -glossy suit and gallant airs disappeared altogether. "He wore nothing -but old-fashioned snuff-coloured coats, with high collars and short -waists, and faded short-legged pantaloons, very tight about the knees, -and vests that did not conceal his waistbands, owing to their being so -short, just like a little boy's. And his hats were all caved in and -battered, as if they had been knocked about in a cellar, and his boots -were sadly patched. Indeed, I began to think he was but a shabby fellow -after all, particularly as his whiskers lost their gloss, and he went -days together without shaving; and his hair, by a sort of miracle, -began to grow of a pepper and salt colour, which might have been owing, -though, to his discontinuing the use of some kind of dye while at sea. -I put him down as a sort of impostor." This the captain certainly -is, and ultimately proves to be something worse, for he swindles -poor Buttons and another unfortunate "boy" out of their hard-earned -wages, and proves himself altogether a far worse fellow than the rough -mate, whose first salutation is often a curse or a cuff, but who, -nevertheless, has some heart and humanity under his coarse envelope. Of -various other individuals of the ship's company sketches are given, and -prominent amongst these is the dandy mulatto steward, called Lavender -by the crew, from his having been a barber in New York. Following the -example of the captain, whose immediate dependant he is, Lavender, when -at sea, lays by his gorgeous turban, and sports his wool, profusely -scented with the residue of his stock in trade. "He was a sentimental -sort of darky, and read the _Three Spaniards_ and _Charlotte Temple_, -and carried a lock of frizzled hair in his vest pocket, which he -frequently volunteered to show to people, with his handkerchief to -his eyes." It must have been sympathy of race, not congeniality of -disposition, that made cronies of Lavender and the methodistical -black cook. Thompson, the sable Soyer of the _Highlander_, was known -as the Doctor, according to the nautical practice of confounding the -medical and the gastronomical professions. He is a capital portrait, -scarcely caricatured. On a Sunday morning, "he sat over his boiling -pots, reading out of a book which was very much soiled, and covered -with grease spots, for he kept it stuck into a little leather strap, -nailed to the keg where he kept the fat skimmed off the water in which -the salt beef was cooked." This book was the Bible, and what with -the heat of the five-feet-square kitchen, and his violent efforts to -comprehend the more mysterious passages of scripture, the beads of -sweat would roll off the Doctor's brow as he sat upon a narrow shelf, -opposite the stove, and so close to it that he had to spread his legs -out wide to keep them from scorching. During the whole voyage he was -never known to wash his face but once, and that was on a dark night, -in one of his own soup-pots. His coffee, by courtesy so called, was a -most extraordinary compound, and would not bear analysis. Sometimes -it tasted fishy, at others salt; then it would have a cheesy flavour, -or--but we abridge the unsavoury details with which Redburn disgusts us -upon this head. Sambo's devotional practices precluded due attention -to his culinary duties. For his narrow caboose he entertained a warm -affection. "In fair weather he spread the skirt of an old jacket before -the door by way of a mat, and screwed a small ringbolt into the door -for a knocker, and wrote his name, 'Mr Thompson,' over it, with a bit -of red chalk." The old negro stands before us as we read; cooking, -praying, perspiring, and with all the ludicrous self-sufficiency of -his tribe. Mr Melville is very happy in these little touches. Max -the Dutchman is another original. Although married to two highly -respectable wives, one at Liverpool and the other at New York, at sea -he is quite an old bachelor, precise and finical, with old-fashioned -straight-laced notions about the duties of sailor boys, which he tries -hard to inculcate upon Redburn. Upon the whole, however, Red Max, as he -is sometimes called--his shirt, cheeks, hair, and whiskers being all -of that colour--is tolerably kind to the youngster, in whose welfare -he occasionally shows some little interest. Jack Blunt, to whose -description the author devotes the greater part of a chapter, is not -quite so happy a hit--rather overdone--overloaded with peculiarities. -Although quite a young fellow, his hair is turning gray, and, to -check this premature sign of age, he thrice in the day anoints his -bushy locks with _Trafalgar Oil_ and _Copenhagen Elixir_, invaluable -preparations retailed to him by a knavish Yankee apothecary. He is also -greatly addicted to drugging himself: takes three pills every morning -with his coffee, and every now and then pours down "a flowing bumper of -_horse salts_." Then he has a turn for romance, and sings sentimental -songs, which must have had an odd enough sound from the lips of one -whose general appearance is that of "a fat porpoise standing on end;" -and he believes in witchcraft, and studies a dream-book, and mutters -Irish invocations for a breeze when the ship is becalmed, &c., &c. -Rather much of all this, Mr Melville, and not equal, by a long chalk, -to what you once before did in the same line. As we read, we cannot -help a comparison with some former pencillings of yours, which, -although earlier made, referred to a later voyage. Involuntarily we -are carried back to the rat-and-cockroach-haunted hull of the crazy -little Jule, and to the strange collection of originals that therein -did dwell. We think of bold Jermin and timid Captain Guy, and, above -all, of that glorious fellow Doctor Long-Ghost. We remember the easy -natural tone, and well-sustained interest of the book in which they -figured; and, desirous though we are to praise, we are compelled to -admit that, in _Redburn_, Mr Melville comes not up to the mark he -himself has made. It is evident that, on his debut, he threw off the -rich cream of his experiences, and he must not marvel if readers have -thereby been rendered dainty, and grumble a little when served with the -skim-milk. _Redburn_ is a clever book, as books now go, and we are far -from visiting it with wholesale condemnation; but it certainly lacks -the spontaneous flow and racy originality of the author's South Sea -narration. - -To proceed, however. "_Redburn grows intolerably flat and stupid over -some outlandish old guide-books._" Such is the heading of Chapter -XXX.; and, from what Mr Melville says, we do not, in this instance, -presume to differ. We are now in Liverpool. Much of what Redburn -there sees, says, and does, will be more interesting to American than -to English readers, although to many even of the latter there will -be novelty in his minute account of sailor life ashore--of their -boarding-houses, haunts, and habits; of the German emigrant ships, -and the salt-droghers and Lascars, and of other matters seemingly -commonplace, but in which his observant eye detects much that escapes -ordinary gazers. We ourselves, to whom the aspect and ways of the -great trading city of northern England are by no means unfamiliar, -have derived some new lights from Redburn's account of what he there -saw. Clergymen of the Church of England, we are informed, stand up on -old casks, at quay corners, arrayed in full canonicals, and preach -thus, _al fresco_, to sailors and loose women. Paupers are allowed to -linger and perish unaided, almost in the public thoroughfare, within -sight and knowledge of neighbours and police. Curious, seemingly, of -the horrible, Redburn visits the dead-house, where he sees "a sailor -stretched out, stark and stiff, with the sleeve of his frock rolled -up, and showing his name and date of birth tattooed upon his arm. It -was a sight full of suggestions: _he seemed his own head-stone_." We -would implore Mr Melville to beware of a fault by no means uncommon -with a certain school of writers at the present day, but into which -it would be unworthy a man of his ability to fall. We refer to that -straining for striking similes, at the expense of truth and good -taste, of which he has here furnished us with a glaring example. A -dead sailor's name is tattooed upon his arm; _therefore_--mark the -consequence--he seems his own head-stone. How totally inapt is this; -how violent and distorted the figure! Such tricks of pen may, by a -sort of tinsel glitter, dazzle for a moment superficial persons, -who weigh not what they read; but they will never obtain favour, or -enhance a reputation with any for whose verdict Mr Melville need care. -Neither will he, we apprehend, gain much praise, that is worth having, -for such exaggerated exhibitions of the horrible as that afforded in -chapter VI. of his second volume. Passing through Lancelott's Hey, -a narrow street of warehouses, Redburn heard "a feeble wail, which -seemed to come out of the earth.... I advanced to an opening, which -communicated downwards with deep tiers of cellars beneath a crumbling -old warehouse; and there, some fifteen feet below the walk, crouching -in nameless squalor, with her head bowed over, was the figure of what -had been a woman. Her blue arms folded to her livid bosom two shrunken -things like children, that leaned towards her, one on each side. At -first I knew not whether they were dead or alive. They made no sign; -they did not move or stir; but from the vault came that soul-sickening -wail." We cannot quite realise the "opening" in question, but take -it for granted to be some sufficiently dreary den, and are only -puzzled to conjecture how, considering its depth, the woman and -children got there. Redburn himself seems at a loss to account for it. -This, however, his compassionate heart tarried not to inquire; but, -perceiving the poor creatures were nearly dead with want, he hurried -to procure them assistance. In an open space hard by, some squalid -old women, the wretched _chiffonières_ of the docks, were gathering -flakes of cotton in the dirt heaps. To these Redburn appealed. They -knew of the beggar-woman and her brats, who had been three days in -the pit or vault, with nothing to eat, but they would not meddle in -the matter; and one hag, with an exaggerated morality that does not -sound very probable, declared "Betsy Jennings deserved it, for she had -never been married!" Turning into a more frequented street, Redburn -met a policeman. "None of my business, Jack," was the reply to his -application. "I don't belong to that street. But what business is it of -yours? Are you not a Yankee?" - -"Yes," said I; "but come, I will help you to remove that woman, if you -say so." - -"There now, Jack, go on board your ship, and stick to it, and leave -these matters to the town." - -Two more policemen were applied to with a like result. Appeals to -the porter at an adjacent warehouse, to Handsome Mary the hostess, -and Brandy Nan the cook at the Sailors' boarding-house, were equally -fruitless. Redburn took some bread and cheese from his dinner-room, -and carried it to the sufferers, to whom he gave water to drink in his -hat--descending with great difficulty into the vault, which was like -a well. The two children ate, but the woman refused. And then Redburn -found a dead infant amongst her rags, (he describes its appearance -with harrowing minuteness,) and almost repented having brought food to -the survivors, for it could but prolong their misery, without hope of -permanent relief. And on reflection, "I felt an almost irresistible -impulse to do them the last mercy, of in some way putting an end to -their horrible lives; and I should almost have done so, I think, had -I not been deterred by thought of the law. For I well knew that the -law, which would let them perish of themselves, without giving them -one sup of water, would spend a thousand pounds, if necessary, in -convicting him who should so much as offer to relieve them from their -miserable existence." The whole chapter is in this agreeable style, and -indeed we suppress the more revolting and exaggerated passages. Two -days longer, Redburn informs us, the objects of his compassion linger -in their foul retreat, and then the bread he throws to them remains -untasted. They are dead, and a horrible stench arises from the opening. -The next time he passes, the corpses have disappeared, and quicklime -strews the ground. Within a few hours of their death the nuisance -has been detected and removed, although for five days, according to -Redburn, they had been allowed to die by inches, within a few yards -of frequented streets, and with the full knowledge and acquiescence -of sundry policemen. We need hardly waste a comment on the more than -improbable, on the utterly absurd character, of this incident. It will -be apparent to all readers. Mr Melville is, of course, at liberty to -introduce fictitious adventure into what professes to be a narrative -of real events; the thing is done every day, and doubtless he largely -avails of the privilege. He has also a clear right to deal in the -lugubrious, and even in the loathsome, if he thinks an occasional -dash of tragedy will advantageously relieve the humorous features of -his book. But here he is perverting truth, and leading into error the -simple persons who put their faith in him. And, from the consideration -of such misguidance, we naturally glide into the story of Master -Harry Bolton. Redburn had been at Liverpool four weeks, and began to -suspect that was all he was likely to see of the country, and that he -must return to New York without obtaining the most distant glimpse -of "the old abbeys, and the York minsters, and the lord mayors, and -coronations, and the maypoles and fox-hunters, and Derby races, and -dukes, and duchesses, and Count d'Orsays," which his boyish reading -had given him the habit of associating with England,--when he one -day made acquaintance, at the sign of the Baltimore Clipper, with "a -handsome, accomplished, but unfortunate youth, one of those small but -perfectly-formed beings who seem to have been born in cocoons. His -complexion was a _mantling brunette_, feminine as a girl's; his feet -were small; his hands were white; and his eyes were large, black, and -womanly; and, poetry aside, his voice was as the sound of a harp." It -is natural to wonder what this dainty gentleman does in the sailors' -quarter of Liverpool, and how he comes to rub his dandified costume -against the tarry jackets of the Clippers' habitual frequenters. -On these points we are presently enlightened. Harry Bolton was born -at Bury St Edmunds. At a very early age he came into possession of -five thousand pounds, went up to London, was at once admitted into -the most aristocratic circles, gambled and dissipated his money in a -single winter, made two voyages to the East Indies as midshipman in -a Company's ship, squandered his pay, and was now about to seek his -fortune in the New World. On reaching Liverpool, he took it into his -head, for the romance of the thing, to ship as a sailor, and work his -passage. Hence his presence at the docks, and his acquaintance with -Redburn, who, delighted with his new acquaintance, prevails on him to -offer his services to Captain Riga of the Highlander, who graciously -accepts them. - - "I now had a comrade in my afternoon strolls and Sunday - excursions; and as Harry was a generous fellow, he shared with - me his purse and his heart. He sold off several more of his fine - vests and trousers, his silver-keyed flute and enamelled guitar; - and a portion of the money thus furnished was pleasantly spent in - refreshing ourselves at the roadside inns, in the vicinity of the - town. Reclining side by side in some agreeable nook, we exchanged - our experiences of the past. Harry enlarged upon the fascinations - of a London life; described the curricle he used to drive in Hyde - Park; gave me the measurement of Madame Vestris' ankle; alluded - to his first introduction, at a club, to the madcap Marquis of - Waterford; told over the sums he had lost upon the turf on a Derby - day; and made various but enigmatical allusions to a certain Lady - Georgiana Theresa, the noble daughter of an anonymous earl." - -Even Redburn, inexperienced as he is in the ways of the old -country, is inclined to suspect his new friend of "spending funds -of reminiscences not his own,"--that being as near an approach as -he can make to accusing the he-brunette with the harp-like voice of -telling lies--until one day, when passing a fashionable hotel, Harry -points out to him "a remarkable elegant coat and pantaloons, standing -upright on the hotel steps, and containing a young buck, tapping his -teeth with an ivory-headed riding-whip." The buck is "very thin and -limber about the legs, with small feet like a doll's, and a small, -glossy head like a seal's," and presently he steps to "the open window -of a flashing carriage which drew up: and, throwing himself into an -interesting posture, _with the sole of one boot vertically exposed, -so as to show the stamp on it--a coronet_--fell into a sparkling -conversation with a magnificent white satin hat, surmounted by a regal -marabout feather, inside." The young gentleman with the seal's-head -and the coroneted-boot, is, as Harry assures Redburn, whilst dragging -him hastily round a corner, Lord Lovely, a most particular "old chum" -of his own. "Sailors," Redburn somewhere observes, "only go _round_ -the world without going _into_ it; and their reminiscences of travel -are only a dim recollection of a chain of tap-rooms surrounding the -globe, parallel with the equator." This being the case, we would -have him abstain from giving glimpses of the English aristocracy, -his knowledge of which seems to be based upon the revelations of -Sunday newspapers, and upon that class of novels usually supposed to -be written by discarded valets-de-chambre. But we are not let off -with this peep at a truant fashionable. Mr Bolton, having found a -purse, or picked a pocket, or in some way or other replenished his -exchequer, rigs out Redburn in a decent suit of clothes, and carries -him off to London, previously disguising himself with false whiskers -and mustaches. Enchanted to visit the capital, Redburn does not -inquire too particularly concerning these suspicious proceedings, -but takes all for granted, until he finds himself "dropped down in -the evening among gas-lights, under a great roof in Euston Square. -London at last," he exclaims, "and in the West End!" If not quite in -the West End, he is soon transported thither by the agency of a cab, -and introduced by his friend into a "semi-public place of opulent -entertainment," such as certainly exists nowhere (at least in London) -but in our sailor-author's lively imagination. The number of this -enchanted mansion is forty, it is approached by high steps, and has a -purple light at the door. Can any one help us with a conjecture? The -following passage we take to be good of its kind: "The cabman being -paid, Harry, adjusting his whiskers and mustaches, _and bidding me -assume a lounging look, pushed his hat a little to one side_, and then, -locking arms, we sauntered into the house, myself feeling not a little -abashed--it was so long since I had been in any courtly society." -A pair of tailors strutting into a casino. It would seem there are -cockneys even in America. The "courtly society" into which the Yankee -sailor boy and his anomalous acquaintance now intrude themselves is -that of "knots of gentlemanly men, seated at numerous Moorish-looking -tables, supported by Caryatides of turbaned slaves, with cut decanters -and taper-waisted glasses, journals, and cigars before them." We regret -we have not room for the description of the magnificent interior, which -is a remarkable specimen of fine writing; but we must devote a word to -the presiding genius of the mysterious palace, were it only for the -sake of a simile indulged in by Redburn. At the further end of the -brilliant apartment, "behind a rich mahogany turret-like structure, was -a very handsome florid old man, with snow-white hair and whiskers, and -in a snow-white jacket--_he looked like an almond-tree in blossom_." -Enshrined in mahogany turrets, and adorned by so imaginative a pen, -who would suspect this benign and blooming old sinner of condescending -to direct waiters and receive silver. Nevertheless these, we are told, -are his chief duties--in short, we are allowed to suppose that he is -the steward of this club, hell, tavern, or whatever else it is intended -to be. Bolton speaks a word to the almond tree, who appears surprised, -and they leave the room together. Redburn remains over a decanter of -pale-yellow wine, and catches unintelligible sentences, in which the -words _Loo_ and _Rouge_ occur. Presently Bolton returns, his face -rather flushed, and drags away Redburn, not, as the latter hoped, for -a ramble, "perhaps to Apsley House, in the Park, to get a sly peep -at the old Duke before he retired for the night," but up magnificent -staircases, through rosewood-doors and palatial halls, of all which -we have a most florid, high-flown, and classical description. Again -Bolton leaves him, after being very oracular and mysterious, and giving -him money for his journey back to Liverpool, and a letter which he is -to leave at Bury, should he (the aforesaid Bolton) not return before -morning. And thereupon he departs with the almond-tree, and Redburn is -left to his meditations, and hears dice rattle, has visions of frantic -men rushing along corridors, and fancies he sees reptiles crawling over -the mirrors, and at last, what with wine, excitement, and fatigue, he -falls asleep. He is roused by Harry Bolton, very pale and desperate, -who draws a dirk, and nails his empty purse to the table, and whistles -fiercely, and finally screams for brandy. Now all this sort of thing, -we can assure its author, is in the very stalest style of minor-theatre -melodrama. We perfectly remember our intense gratification when -witnessing, at country fairs in our boyish days, a thrilling domestic -tragedy, in which the murderer rushes on the stage with a chalked face -and a gory carving-knife, howling for "Brandy! Brandy!!" swallows a -goblet of strong toast and water, and is tranquillised. But surely Mr -Melville had no need to recur to such antiquated traditions. Nor had -he any need to introduce this fantastical gambling episode, unless it -were upon the principle of the old cakes of roses in the apothecary's -shop--to make up a show. We unhesitatingly qualify the whole of this -London expedition as utter rubbish, intended evidently to be very fine -and effective, but which totally misses the mark. Why will not Mr -Melville stick to the ship? There he is at home. The worst passages of -his sea-going narrative are better than the best of his metropolitan -experiences. In fact, the introduction at all of the male brunette is -quite impertinent. Having got him, Mr Melville finds it necessary to -do something with him, and he is greatly puzzled what that is to be. -Bolton's character is full of inconsistencies. Notwithstanding his two -voyages to the East Indies, and his great notion of "the romance" of -working his passage as a common sailor, when he comes to do duty on -board the Highlander he proves himself totally ignorant of nautical -matters, and is so nerveless a mariner that, on ascending a mast, he -nearly falls into the sea, and nothing can induce him again to go -aloft. This entails upon him the contempt and ill-treatment of his -officers and shipmates, and he leads a dog's life between Liverpool and -New York. "Few landsmen can imagine the depressing and self-humiliating -effect of finding one's self, for the first time, at the beck of -illiterate sea-tyrants, with no opportunity of exhibiting any trait -about you but your ignorance of everything connected with the sea-life -that you lead, and the duties you are constantly called on to perform. -In such a sphere, and under such circumstances, Isaac Newton and Lord -Bacon would be sea-clowns and bumpkins, and Napoleon Buonaparte be -cuffed and kicked without remorse. In more than one instance I have -seen the truth of this; and Harry, poor Harry, proved no exception." -Poor Harry, nervous, effeminate, and sensitive, was worried like a hare -by the rude sea-dogs amongst whom he had so imprudently thrust himself. -His sole means of propitiating his tormentors was by his voice, and -"many a night was he called upon to sing for those who, through the -day, had insulted and derided him." Amidst his many sufferings, Redburn -was his only comforter, and at times, of an evening, they would creep -under the lee of the long-boat and talk of the past, and still oftener -of the future; for Harry referred but unwillingly to things gone by, -and especially would never explain any of the mysteries of their London -expedition, and had bound Redburn by an oath not to question him -concerning it. He confessed, however, that his resources were at end; -that besides a chest of clothes--relics of former finery--he had but -a few shillings in the world; and, although several years his senior, -he was glad to take counsel of the sailor boy as to his future course -of life, and what he could do in America to earn a living, for he was -determined never to return to England. And when Redburn suggested that -his friend's musical talents might possibly be turned to account, Harry -caught at the idea, and volunteered the following curious information:-- - - "In some places in England, he said, it was customary for two - or three young men of highly respectable families, of undoubted - antiquity, but unfortunately in lamentably decayed circumstances, - and threadbare coats--it was customary for two or three young - gentlemen, so situated, to obtain their livelihood by their - voices; coining their silvery songs into silvery shillings. They - wandered from door to door, and rang the bell--_Are the ladies - and gentlemen in?_ Seeing them at least gentlemanly-looking, - if not sumptuously apparelled, the servant generally admitted - them at once; and when the people entered to greet them, their - spokesman would rise with a gentle bow, and a smile, and say, _We - come, ladies and gentlemen, to sing you a song; we are singers, - at your service._ And so, without waiting reply, forth they burst - into song; and, having most mellifluous voices, enchanted and - transported all auditors; so much so, that at the conclusion of - the entertainment they very seldom failed to be well recompensed, - and departed with an invitation to return again, and make the - occupants of that dwelling once more delighted and happy." - -Should it not be added that these errant minstrels of ancient -family, decayed circumstances, and courtly manners, had their faces -lamp-blacked, and carried bones and banjos, and sang songs in negro -slang with gurgling choruses? Some such professors we have occasionally -seen parading the streets of English towns, although we are not aware -of their being customarily welcomed in drawing-rooms. We ask Mr Herman -Melville to explain to us his intention in this sort of writing. Does -it contain some subtle satire, imperceptible to our dull optics? Does -he mean it to be humorous? Or is he writing seriously? (although that -seems scarcely possible,) and does he imagine he is here recording -a common English custom? If this last be the case, we strongly urge -him immediately to commence a work "On the Manners and Customs of the -British Isles." We promise him a review, and guarantee the book's -success. But we have not quite done with Harry Bolton, and may as -well finish him off whilst our hand is in. Objections being found to -troubadourising in New York, the notion of a clerkship is started, -Harry being a good penman; and this brings on a discussion about -hands, and Redburn utterly scouts the idea of slender fingers and -small feet being indicative of gentle birth and far descent, because -the half-caste paupers in Lima are dainty-handed and wee-footed, and -moreover, he adds, with crushing force of argument, a fish has no feet -at all! But poor Harry's tender digits and rosy nails have grievously -suffered from the pollution of tar-pots, and the rough contact of -ropes, and oftentimes he bewails his hand's degradation, and sighs for -the palmy days when it handed countesses to their coaches, and pledged -Lady Blessington, and ratified a bond to Lord Lovely, &c. &c. All which -is abundantly tedious and commonplace, and will not bear dwelling upon. - -Part of the Highlander's cargo on home-voyage was five hundred -emigrants, to accommodate whom the "between-decks" was fitted up with -bunks, rapidly constructed of coarse planks, and having something -the appearance of dog-kennels. The weather proved unfavourable, the -voyage long, the provisions of many of the emigrants (who were chiefly -Irish) ran short, and the consequences were disorder, suffering, and -disease. Once more upon his own ground, and telling of things which -he knows, and has doubtless seen, Mr Melville again rises in our -estimation. His details of emigrant life on board are good; and so is -his account of the sailors' shifts for tobacco, which runs short, and -of Jackson's selfishness, and singular ascendency over the crew. And -also, very graphic indeed, is the picture of the steerage, when the -malignant epidemic breaks out, and it becomes a lazar-house, frightful -with filth and fever, where the wild ignorant Irishmen sat smoking -tea leaves on their chests, and rise in furious revolt, to prevent -the crew from taking the necessary sanitary measures of purification, -until at last favourable breezes came, and fair mild days, and fever -fled, and the human stable (for it was no better) was cleansed, and the -Highlander bowled cheerily onwards, over a pleasant sea, towards the -much-desired haven. Two incidents of especial prominence occur during -the voyage--one at its outset, the other near its close. Whilst yet -in the Prince's Dock, three drunken sailors are brought on board the -Highlander by the crimps. One of them, a Portuguese, senseless from -intoxication, is lowered on deck by a rope and rolled into his bunk, -where the crimp tucks him in, and desires he may not be disturbed till -out at sea. There he lies, regardless of the mate's angry calls, and -seemingly sunk in a trance, until an unpleasant odour in the forecastle -arouses attention, and Jackson discovers that the man is dead. Yet the -other sailors doubt it, especially when, upon Red Max holding a light -to his face, "the yellow flame wavered for a moment at the seaman's -motionless mouth. But then, to the silent horror of all, two threads -of greenish fire, like a forked tongue, darted out from between the -lips; and in a moment the cadaverous face was crawled over by a swarm -of wormlike flames. The lamp dropped from the hand of Max, and went -out, which covered all over with spires and sparkles of flame, that -faintly crackled in the silence; the uncovered parts of the body burned -before us, precisely like a phosphorescent shark in a midnight sea." -Spirit-drinking, the seaman's bane, had made an end of Miguel the -Portuguese. What shocked Redburn particularly, was Jackson's opinion -"that the man had been actually dead when brought on board the ship; -and that knowingly, and merely for the sake of the month's advance, -paid into his hand upon the strength of the bill he presented, the -body-snatching crimp had shipped a corpse on board the Highlander." -The men trembled at the supernatural aspect of the burning body, but -reckless Jackson, with a fierce jeer, bade them hurl it overboard, -which was done. Jackson knew not how soon the waves were to close over -his own corpse. Off Cape Cod, when the smell of land was strong in the -nostrils of the weary emigrants, orders were given, one dark night, in -a stiff breeze, to reef topsails; and Jackson, who had been deadly ill -and off duty most part of the voyage, came upon deck, to the surprise -of many, to do his duty with the rest, by way of reminder, perhaps, to -the captain, that he was alive and expected his wages. Having pointed -pretty freely to Mr Melville's defects, it is fair to give an example -of his happier manner. - - "At no time could Jackson better signalise his disposition to - work, than upon an occasion like the present; which generally - attracts every soul on deck, from the captain to the child in the - steerage. - - "His aspect was damp and deathlike; the blue hollows of his - eyes were like vaults full of snakes, [another of Mr Melville's - outrageous similes]; and, issuing so unexpectedly from his dark - tomb in the forecastle, he looked like a man raised from the dead. - - "Before the sailors had made fast the reef-tackle, Jackson - was tottering up the rigging; thus getting the start of them, - and securing his place at the extreme weather end of the - topsail-yard--which is accounted the post of honour. For it was - one of the characteristics of this man, that, though when on duty - he would shy away from mere dull work in a calm, yet in tempest - time he always claimed the van, and would yield it to none; and - this, perhaps, was one cause of his unbounded dominion over the - men. - - "Soon we were all strung along the main-topsail yard; the ship - rearing and plunging under us, like a runaway steed; each man - griping his reef-point, and sideways leaning, dragging the sail - over towards Jackson, whose business it was to confine the reef - corner to the yard. - - "His hat and shoes were off; and he rode the yard-arm end, leaning - backward to the gale, and pulling at the earing-rope like a - bridle. At all times, this is a moment of frantic exertion with - sailors, whose spirits seem then to partake of the commotion - of the elements, as they hang in the gale, between heaven and - earth--and then it is, too, that they are the most profane. - - "'Haul out to windward!' coughed Jackson with a blasphemous cry, - and he threw himself back with a violent strain upon the bridle - in his hand. But the wild words were hardly out of his mouth when - his hands dropped to his side, and the bellying sail was spattered - with a torrent of blood from his lungs. - - "As the man next him stretched out his arm to save, Jackson fell - headlong from the yard, and, with a long seethe, plunged like a - diver into the sea. - - "It was when the ship had rolled to windward; which, with the long - projection of the yard-arm over the side, made him strike far out - upon the water. His fall was seen by the whole upward-gazing crowd - on deck, some of whom were spotted with the blood that trickled - from the sail, while they raised a spontaneous cry, so shrill - and wild, that a blind man might have known something deadly had - happened. - - "Clutching our reef-points, we hung over the stick, and gazed down - to the one white, bubbling spot, which had closed over the head of - our shipmate; but the next minute it was brewed into the common - yeast of the waves, and Jackson never arose. We waited a few - moments, expecting an order to descend, haul back the foreyard, - and man the boat; but instead of that, the next sound that greeted - us was, 'Bear a hand, and reef away, men!' from the mate." - -If it be possible (we are aware that it is very difficult) for an -author to form a correct estimate of his own productions, it must -surely have struck Mr Melville, whilst glancing over the proof-sheets -of _Redburn_, that plain, vigorous, unaffected writing of this sort -is a far superior style of thing to rhapsodies about Italian boys and -hurdy-gurdies, to gairish descriptions of imaginary gambling-houses, -and to sentimental effusions about Harry Bolton, his "Bury blade," -and his "Zebra," as he called him--the latter word being used, we -suppose, to indicate that the young man was only one remove from a -donkey. We can assure Mr Melville he is most effective when most simple -and unpretending; and if he will put away affectation and curb the -eccentricities of his fancy, we see no reason for his not becoming a -very agreeable writer of nautical fictions. He will never have the -power of a Cringle, or the sustained humour and vivacity of a Marryat, -but he may do very well without aspiring to rival the masters of the -art. - -_Redburn_ is not a novel; it has no plot; the mysterious visit to -London remains more or less an enigma to the end. But having said so -much about Harry Bolton, the author deems it expedient to add a tag -touching the fate of this worthy, whom Redburn left in New York; in -charge of a friend, during his own temporary absence, and who had -disappeared on his return. For years he hears nothing of him, but then -falls in, whilst on a whaling cruise in the Pacific, with an English -sailor, who tells how a poor little fellow, a countryman of his, a -gentleman's son, and who sang like a bird, had fallen over the side of -a Nantucket craft, and been jammed between ship and whale. And this is -Harry Bolton. A most lame and impotent conclusion, and as improbable a -one as could well be devised, seeing that a sailor's life was the very -last the broken down gambler was likely to choose, after his experience -of his utter incapacity for it, and after the persecution and torments -he had endured from his rude shipmates on board the Highlander. - -When this review of his last work meets the eye of Mr Herman Melville, -which probably it will do, we would have him bear in mind that, if -we have now dwelt upon his failings, it is in the hope of inducing -him to amend them; and that we have already, on a former occasion, -expended at least as much time and space on a laudation of his merits, -and many undeniable good qualities, as a writer. It always gives us -pleasure to speak favourably of a book by an American author, when we -conscientiously can do so. First, because Americans, although cousins, -are not _of the house_; although allied by blood, they are in some -sort strangers; and it is an act of more graceful courtesy to laud -a stranger than one of ourselves. Secondly, because we hope thereby -to encourage Americans to the cultivation of literature--to induce -some to write, who, having talent, have not hitherto revealed it; and -to stimulate those who have already written to increased exertion -and better things. For it were false modesty on our part to ignore -the fact, that the words of Maga have much weight and many readers -throughout the whole length and breadth of the Union--that her verdict -is respectfully heard, not only in the city, but in the hamlet, and -even in those remote back-woods where the law of Lynch prevails. And, -thirdly, we gladly praise an American book because we praise none but -good books, and we desire to see many such written in America, in the -hope that she will at last awake to the advantages of an international -copyright. For surely it is little creditable to a great country to see -her men of genius and talent, her Irvings and Prescotts, and we will -also say her Coopers and Melvilles, publishing their works in a foreign -capital, as the sole means of obtaining that fair remuneration which, -although it should never be the sole object, is yet the legitimate and -honourable reward of the labourer in literature's paths. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[20] _Redburn: his First Voyage._ By HERMAN MELVILLE, author of -_Typee_, _Omoo_, and _Mardi_. 2 vols. London, 1849. - - - - -PEACE AND WAR AGITATORS. - - -If the experience of the last twelve months has not opened the eyes -of the most inveterate of Mr Cobden's quondam admirers to the real -quality of their idol, we very much fear that such unhappy persons -are beyond the reach of the moral oculist. From the first moment of -his appearance upon the political stage, while yet unbe-praised by -Peel, and unrewarded by that splendid testimonial, accorded unto him -by judicious patriots, one moiety of whom have since done penance for -their premature liberality in the _Gazette_, we understood the true -capabilities of the man, and scrupled not to say that a more conceited -personage never battered the front of a hustings. Some excellent but -decidedly weak-minded people were rather offended with the freedom of -our remarks upon the self-sufficient Cagliostro of free trade, in whose -powers of transmutation they were disposed to place implicit reliance -and belief. The Tamworth certificate, which we shrewdly suspect its -author would now give a trifle to recall, was founded on as evidence -sufficient to condemn our obstinate blindness and illiberality; for who -could doubt the soundness of an opinion emanating from a statesman who -was just then depositing, in a mahogany wheelbarrow, the first sod, -raised with a silver spade, on a railway which, when completed, was to -prove a perfect California to the shareholders? It is not impossible -that, at this moment, some of the shareholders may be on their way -to the actual California--having found, through bitter experience, -that some kinds of diggings are anything but productive, and having -learned that elderly orators, who make a practice of studying the -gyrations of the weather-cock, may be sometimes mistaken in their -calculations. Matters fared worse with us, when it was bruited through -the trumpet of fame, that, in every considerable capital of Europe, -multitudes had assembled to do homage to the apostle of the new era. -Our compassionate friends, possibly deeming us irretrievably committed -to folly, put on mourning for our transgression, and ceased to combat -with our adversaries, who classed us with the worst of unbelievers. -One facetious gentleman proposed that we should be exhibited in a -glass-case, as a specimen of an extinct animal; another, indulging -in a more daring flight of fancy, stigmatised us as a cankerworm, -gnawing at the root of the tree of liberty. We fairly confess that -we were pained at the alienation of friends whom we had previously -considered as staunch as the steel of Toledo: as for our foemen, we, -being used to that kind of warfare, treated them with consummate -indifference. Yet not the less, on that account, did we diligently -peruse the journals, which, from various lands, winged their way -to the table of our study, each announcing, in varied speech, that -Richard Cobden was expatiating upon the blessings of free-trade and -unlimited calico to the nations. These we had not studied long, ere -we discovered that, upon one or two unfortunate points, there was a -want of understanding between the parties who thus fraternised. The -foreign audiences knew nothing whatever about the principles which the -orator propounded; and the orator knew, if possible, still less of the -languages in which the compliments of the audiences were conveyed. In -so far as any interchange of ideas was concerned, Mr Cobden might as -well have been dining on cold roast monkey with the King of Congo and -his court, as with the bearded patriots who entertained him in Italy -and Spain. His talk about reciprocity was about as distinct to their -comprehension, as would have been his definition of the differential -calculus; nevertheless their shoutings fell no whit less gratefully -on the ear of the Manchester manufacturer, who interpreted the same -according to his own sweet will, and sent home bragging bulletins to -his backers, descriptive of the thirst for commercial interchange which -raged throughout Europe, and of the pacific tendencies of the age. -Need we remind our readers of what followed? Never had unfortunate -prophet been possessed by a more lying and delusive demon. The words -were hardly out of his mouth, before the thunderstorm of revolution -broke in all its fury upon France, and rolled in devastating wrath -over every kingdom of the Continent. Amongst the foremost agents in -this unholy work were the friends and entertainers of Mr Cobden, for -whose tranquil dispositions he had been foolish enough to volunteer a -pledge. How he must have cursed "my friend Cremieux," when he found -that unscrupulous gentleman giving the lie to all his asseverations! -No man, unless cased in a threefold covering of brass, could have -held up his head to the public, after so thorough and instantaneous -an exposure of his miserable fallacies. But our Richard is not to be -easily put down. No one understands the trade of the agitator better; -for, when baffled, put to silence, and covered with ridicule on one -topic, he straightway shifts his ground, and is heard declaiming on -another. It is his misfortune that he has been compelled to do this -rather frequently, for in no one single instance have events realised -his predictions. Free trade, which was to make every man rich, has -plunged the nation in misery. Reciprocity, for all practical purposes, -is an obsolete word in the dictionary. The Continental apostles of -commercial exchange have been amusing themselves by cutting each -others' throats, and hatching villanous schemes for the subversion of -all government; nor has one of them a maravedi left, to expend in the -purchase of calico. The colonies are up in arms against the policy of -the mother country. Undismayed by these failures, still the undaunted -Cobden lifts up his oracular voice, advocating in turn the extension -of the suffrage, the abolition of standing armies, financial reform, -and what not. It matters not to him that, on each new attempt, the -rotten tub on which he takes his stand is either kicked from under his -feet, or goes crashing down beneath the weight of the husky orator--up -he starts from the mire like a new Antæus, and, without stopping to -wipe away the unsavoury stains from his visage, holds forth upon a -different text, the paragon of pertinacious preachers. We could almost -find it in our hearts to be sorry that such singular pluck should go -without its adequate reward. But a patriot of this stamp is sure to -become a nuisance. However numerous his audience may be at first, they -are apt to decline when the folly of the harangue is made patent to -the meanest capacity, and when current events everlastingly combine -to expose the nature of the imposture. The popularity of Cobden, for -some time back, has been terribly on the wane. Few and far between are -his present political ovations; and even men of his own class begin to -consider him a humbug. We are given to understand that, in a majority -of the commercial rooms, the first glass of the statutory pint of wine -is no longer graced with an aspiration for his prosperity and length -of years; and some ungrateful recreants of the road now hint, that to -his baleful influence may be attributed the woful diminution of orders. -That exceedingly mangy establishment, ycleped the Free-trade Club, -of which he was the father and founder, has just given up the ghost; -and great is the joy of the denizens of St James's Square at being -relieved from the visitations of the crew that haunted its ungarnished -halls. Ordinary men might be disheartened by a succession of such -reverses--not so Cobden. Like an ancient Roman, he gathers his calico -around him, and announces to a gratified world that he is ready to -measure inches with the Autocrat of all the Russias! - -Cobden is fond of this kind of feat. About a year ago he put out the -same challenge to the Duke of Wellington and the Horse Guards, just -as we find it announced in the columns of _Bell's Life in London_, -that Charles Onions of Birmingham is ready to pitch into the Champion -of England for five pounds aside, and that his money is deposited at -the bar of the Pig and Whistles. But even as the said champion does -not reply to the defiance of the full-flavoured Charles, so silent -was He of the hundred fights when Richard summoned him to the field. -Failing this meditated encounter, our pugnacious manufacturer next -despatches a cartel to Nicholas, and no response having arrived from -St Petersburg, he magnanimously professes himself ready to serve out -the house of Hapsburg! Really there is no setting bounds to the valour -or the ambition of this vaunting Achilles, who, far stronger than his -prototype, or even than the fabled Hercules, states that he can crumple -up kingdoms in his hand as easily as a sheet of foolscap. We stand -absolutely appalled at the temerity of unappeasable Pelides. - -Our readers are probably aware that, for some time past, there has -been an attempt to preach up a sort of seedy Crusade, having for -its ostensible object the universal pacification of mankind. With -such an aim no good man or sincere Christian can quarrel. Peace and -good-will are expressly inculcated by the Gospel, and even upon lower -grounds than these we are all predisposed in their favour. So that, -when America sent us a new Peter the Hermit, in the shape of one -Elihu Burritt, heretofore a hammerer of iron, people were at a loss -to comprehend what sort of a mission that could be, which, without -any fresh revelation, was to put the matter in a clearer light than -was ever exhibited before. We care not to acknowledge that we were -of the number of those who classed the said Elihu with the gang of -itinerant lecturers, who turn a questionable penny by holding forth to -ignorant audiences upon subjects utterly beyond their own contracted -comprehension. Nor have we seen any reason to alter our opinion since; -for the accession of any amount of noodles, be they English, French, -Dutch, Flemish, or Chinese, can in no way give importance to a movement -which is simply and radically absurd. If the doctrines and precepts -of Christianity cannot establish peace, cheek aggression, suppress -insubordination, or hasten the coming of the millennium, we may be -excused for doubting, surely, the power of Peace Congresses, even when -presided over by so saintly a personage as Victor Hugo, to accomplish -those desirable ends. We do not know whether Alexander Dumas has as yet -given in his adhesion. If not, it is a pity, for his presence would -decidedly give additional interest to the meetings. - -Even on the score of originality, the founders of the Peace -Associations cannot claim any merit. The idea was long ago struck out, -and promulgated, by that very respectable sect the Quakers; and though -in modern times some of that fraternity, John Bright for example, have -shown themselves more addicted to wrangling than befits the lamb-like -docility of their profession, we believe that opposition to warfare is -still their leading tenet. We can see no reason, therefore, why the -bread should be so unceremoniously taken from the mouth of Obadiah. If -the ingenious author of _Lucretia Borgia_ and _Hans of Iceland_ wishes -to become the leader of a great pacific movement, he ought, in common -justice, to adopt the uniform of the existing corps. He certainly -should treat the promenaders of the Boulevards to a glimpse of the -broad-brimmed hat and sober drab terminations, and conform to the -phraseology as well as the habiliments of the followers of William Penn. - -It may be questionable whether, if the experiment of free trade had -succeeded, Elihu would have obtained the countenance of so potent -an auxiliary as Cobden. Our powers of arithmetic are too limited to -enable us, at this moment, to recall the precise amount of additional -annual wealth which the member for the West Riding, and the wiseacres -of _The Economist_, confidently predicted as the necessary gain to -the nation; it was something, the bare mention of which was enough -to cause a Pactolus to distil from the chops of a Chancellor of the -Exchequer, especially if he belonged to the Whig persuasion, and was, -therefore, unaccustomed to the miracle of a bursting revenue. But as no -such miracle ensued; and as, on the contrary, Sir Charles Wood was put -to his wit's end--no very formidable stretch--to diminish a horrible -deficit by the sale of rope-ends, rusty metal, and other material which -was classed under the head of government stores, it was clearly high -time for our nimble Cobden to shift his ground. Accordingly he fell -foul of the army, which he would fain have insisted on disbanding; -and this move, of course, brought him within the range of the orbit -already occupied by the eccentric Elihu. - -It is not very easy to attain to a distinct understanding of the means -which the Peace Association proposed to adopt, for carrying out this -benevolent scheme. Most of the gentlemen who have already figured at -their debates are so excessively muddleheaded, that it seems impossible -to extract from their speeches the vestige of a distinct idea. This -much, however, after diligent study, we have gathered, that it is -proposed to substitute arbitration in place of war, and to render that -mode of arrangement almost necessary by a general European disarmament. -Nothing could tally better with the views of Cobden. A higher principle -than that of mere retrenchment is thus brought to bear upon his darling -scheme of wiping off the army and the navy; and we must needs confess -that, to a considerable proportion of the population of modern Europe, -the scheme must be extremely palatable. - -Standing armies, we are told, are of no earthly use in the time of -peace, and their expense is obviously undeniable. If peace could be -made universal and perpetual, there would be an end of standing armies. -The best means for securing perpetual peace is to do away with standing -armies, because without standing armies there would be no facilities -for war. This is the sort of argument which we are now asked to accept; -but, unfortunately, we demur both to the premises and the conclusion. -Indeed, in a matter of this kind, we utterly repudiate the aid of -logic, even were it a great deal more scientifically employed. That of -the free-traders is, if possible, worse than their arithmetic, though, -a year or two ago, they were ready to have staked their existence on -the infallibility of the latter. - -The experience of the last eighteen months has given us all some -tangible proof of the advantages of standing armies. Setting aside the -Denmark affair, and also the occupation of Rome, there has been one -aggressive war waged in Europe by sovereign against sovereign. That -war, we need hardly say, was commenced by Charles Albert of Sardinia, -who, basely and perfidiously availing himself of the intestine -difficulties of Austria, attempted to seize the opportunity of making -himself master of Lombardy. We need not recapitulate the history of -that campaign, so glorious to the veteran Radetsky, and so shameful -to his unprincipled opponent: but it is well worth remarking, that -the whole of the sympathies of Mr Cobden and his radical confederates -are enlisted on the side of the Italian insurgents; and that, with -all their professed horror for war, we never hear them attribute the -slightest blame to the Sardinians for having marched in hostile array -across the frontier of a friendly power. Nor is this all. In every -case where the torch of insurrection has been lighted, we find the -advocates of peace clamorous in their approbation of the movement. -Without knowledge, without judgment, without anything like due -consideration either of the provocation given on the one side, or the -license claimed on the other, they have invariably lent their voices to -swell the revolutionary cry, and backed the drunken populace in their -howl against order and government. Whoever was loyal and true has been -branded as a ruffian and a murderer. Assassination, when it proceeded -from the mob, was in their eyes no offence at all. Some of them, -employing terms which we never thought to have heard an Englishman -utter, have rather chuckled over the spectacle of nobles, priests, and -statesmen stabbed, shot down, hewn with axes, or torn limb from limb by -savages, whose atrocity was not equalled by that of the worst actors in -the early French Revolution,--and have not been ashamed to vindicate -the authors of such hideous outrage. - -Aggressive war we deprecate, to say the least of it, as strongly -as any peace orator who ever spouted from a platform; but we by no -means think that peace, in the catholic sense of the word, can be at -all endangered by the maintenance of standing armies. So far as the -military establishment of Great Britain is concerned, we have already -had occasion, in a former paper, to show that it is barely sufficient -for the occupation of our large and numerous colonies, and greatly -inferior in proportion to that of any other country in Europe. We -certainly do not intend to resume that discussion, because the sense -of the nation has unequivocally condemned the pragmatic fools who -provoked it; and even the Whigs, who coquetted with them, have seen the -folly of their ways, and are not likely, in a hurry, to attempt any -numerical reduction. But we go a great deal farther. We maintain, that -without the assistance of the standing armies throughout Europe during -the late critical juncture, anarchy would now have been triumphant, and -civilisation have received a check so terrible, that ages might have -elapsed before we could have recovered from its effects. Revolution -is incalculably a greater disaster than war; and the higher the point -of civilisation to which a nation has attained before it permits the -democratic flame, smothering beneath the surface of all society, to -burst out into fury, the more dangerous and difficult to extinguish -must be the conflagration. But for the regular army of France, red -republicanism would now be triumphant, and a new Reign of Terror -have begun. The armies and discipline of Prussia alone preserved -the Rhenish provinces and the Palatinate from anarchy, plunder, and -devastation; and, failing those of Austria, Vienna would have been a -heap of ashes. Ultra-democrats, in all ages, have exclaimed against -standing armies as instruments of tyranny for suppressing and overawing -the people, and they have argued that such a force is incompatible -with free institutions. Such declamation is perfectly natural, both -now and heretofore, when we reflect who the individuals are that use -it. No class of persons are more bitter against the police than the -professional thieves. To them the constable's baton also is an emblem -of intolerable tyranny, because it interferes with those liberal ideas -regarding the distribution of property which have been philosophically -expounded and reduced to ethics by certain sages of the socialist -school. The democrat hates the soldier, because he considers him an -obstacle in the way of that political regeneration which is merely -another word for the institution of a reign of terror. - -We do not, however, think it necessary to enter into any elaborate -exposition of the idleness of the peace movement. So long as the -gentlemen who have gratuitously constituted themselves a congress -exhibit so much common sense as to retain the semblance of consistency, -we should hardly feel ourselves called upon to interfere in any way -with their arrangements. We should be the last people in the world to -grudge to Mr Ewart, or any other senator of such limited calibre, the -little notoriety which he may chance to pick up by figuring in Paris as -a champion of pacific fraternity. The paths towards the Temple of Fame -are many and devious; and if a man feels himself utterly wanting in -that intellectual strength which is necessary for attaining the summit -by the legitimate and beaten road, he is certainly entitled to clamber -up to any odd pinnacle from which he can make himself, for a moment, -the object of observation. In minor theatres, it is not uncommon to -find a broken-down tragedian attempting to achieve some popularity in -a humble line, by jumping as Harlequin through a clock, or distorting -his ochre-coated visage by grinning magnanimously as the clown. To such -feats no fair exception can be taken; and we doubt not that a roar of -laughter, proceeding from the throats of the most ignorant assemblage -of numskulls, is as grateful to the ears of the performer as would -be the applause of the most enlightened and fastidious audience. We -believe that, in the case of the Congress, audience and orators were -extremely well suited to the capacity of each other. The people of -Paris, who drank in the rolling periods of the pacificators, were -exceedingly amused with the exhibition; and testified their delight, by -greeting the reproduction of the farce, in the shape of a Vaudeville at -the Théâtre des Variétés, with unextinguishable shouts of laughter! - -Neither shall we make any comment upon the singularity of the time -selected for these demonstrations. The members of the Congress -expressly set forth, that it was their desire to impress upon the -governments of Europe the folly of maintaining large establishments, -and we presume that they entertained some reasonable hope that their -remonstrances might at least be heard. We need scarcely point out to -our readers the eminent fitness of the present juncture for carrying -these views into effect. We have great faith in the extent and power -of human idiocy, but we hardly supposed that any body of men could -have been congregated, possessed of so much collective imbecility as -to conceive that this was a proper moment for securing the conviction, -or enlisting the sympathies of any government in their scheme. We are, -however, forced to conclude, that a good many of them are sincere; and, -believing this, our regard for their honesty rises in a corresponding -ratio with the decline of our respect for the measure of their -intellects. It would probably be unjust and wrong to confound some of -these simple souls with men of the stamp of their new ally, who use -their association merely as a means for the promulgation of part of -their political opinions, but who, in reality, are so far from being -the friends of peace, that they seem bent upon using their utmost -efforts to involve the whole of Europe in a new and desolating war. -While, therefore, we drop for the present any further notice of the -proceedings of the Peace Congress, we feel it our imperative duty to -trace the steps of Mr Cobden since, arrayed in sheep's clothing, he -chose to make his appearance in the midst of that innocent assembly. - -Whatever sympathy may have been shown in certain quarters towards the -Italian insurgents, that feeling has been materially lessened by the -awful spectacles afforded by insurgent rule. We are, in this country, -a great deal too apt to be carried into extravagance by our abstract -regard for constitutional freedom. We forget that our own system has -been the gradual work of ages; that the enlightenment and education of -the people has invariably preceded every measure of substantial reform; -and that it is quite possible that other nations may not be fitted to -receive like institutions, or to work out the social problem, without -more than British restraint. Arbitrary government, being quite foreign -to our own notions, is invariably regarded by us with dislike; and our -decided impulse, on the appearance of each new insurrection, is to -attribute the whole of the blame to the inflexibility of the sovereign -power. So long as this feeling is merely confined to expression of -opinion at home, it is comparatively, though not altogether, harmless. -Undue weight is attached abroad to the articles of the press, -enunciated with perfect freedom, but certainly not always expressing -the sense of the community; and foreign statesmen, unable to appreciate -this license, have ere now taken umbrage at diatribes, which, could -the matter be investigated, would be found to proceed from exceedingly -humble sources. So long, however, as our government professed and acted -upon the principles of non-interference, there was little likelihood -of our being embroiled in disputes with which we had no concern, -simply on account of liberal meetings, tavern speeches, or hebdomadal -objurgations of despotism. - -The real danger commenced when a government, calling itself liberal, -began to interfere, most unjustifiably and most unwisely, with the -concerns of its neighbours. Powerless to do good at home, the Whigs -have ever shown themselves most ready to do mischief abroad; and -probably, in the whole history of British diplomacy, there stands -recorded no transaction more deplorable, from first to last, than the -part which Lord Palmerston has taken in the late Italian movements. -It is the fashion to laud the present Foreign Secretary as a man -of consummate ability; nor is it possible to deny that, so far as -speech-making is concerned, he certainly surpasses his colleagues. -We were almost inclined to go farther, and admit that no one could -equal him in dexterity of reading official documents, so as to mystify -and distort their meaning; but were we to assign him pre-eminence -in this department, we should do signal injustice to Earl Grey, who -unquestionably stands unrivalled in the art of coopering a despatch. -Ability Lord Palmerston certainly has, but we deny that he has shown -it in his late Italian negotiations. Restless activity is not a proof -of diplomatic talent, any more than an appetite for intrigue, or a -perverse obstinacy of purpose. Men of the above temperament have, in -all ages, been held incompetent for the duties of so delicate and -difficult a station as that of minister of foreign affairs; and yet -who will deny that the whole course of our recent diplomatic relations -with the south of Europe, has been marked by an unusual display of -restlessness, obstinacy, and intrigue? Public men must submit to have -their labours judged of by their fruits; it is the penalty attached -to their high office, and most righteously so, since the destinies of -nations are committed to their hands. Lord Palmerston may possibly -have thought that, by dictating to the governments of Italy the nature -of the relations which, in his opinion, ought to subsist between -them and their subjects, he was consulting the honour and advantage -of England, fulfilling his duty to the utmost, and providing for -the maintenance of the public tranquillity of Europe. We say it is -possible that such was his thought and intention; but, if so, surely -never yet did a man, possessing more than common ability, resort to -such extraordinary means, or employ such incapable agents. Of all the -men who could have been selected for such a service, Lord Minto was -incalculably the worst. We have nothing whatever to say against that -nobleman in his private capacity; but, throughout his whole public, we -cannot say useful, career, he has never, on one occasion, exhibited a -spark even of ordinary talent, and it is more than questioned by many, -whether his intelligence rises to the ordinary level. Through accident -and connexion he has been thrust into state employment, and has never -rendered himself otherwise remarkable than for a most egregious -partiality for those of his family, kindred, and name. And yet this -was the accredited agent sent out by Lord Palmerston to expound the -intentions and views of Great Britain, not only to the sovereigns of -Italy, but also to their revolted subjects. - -We say nothing of the diplomatic employment of such a representative as -Mr Abercromby, at the court of Turin. The correspondence contained in -the Blue Books laid before parliament, shows how singularly ignorant -that minister was of the real posture of affairs in Italy; how eagerly -he caught at every insinuation which was thrown out against the good -faith and pacific policy of Austria; and how completely he was made -the tool and the dupe of the revolutionary party. It is enough to -note the fruits of the Palmerstonian policy, which have been, so far -as we are concerned, the utter annihilation of all respect for the -British name in Italy, insurrections, wild and wasting civil war, and, -finally, the occupation of Rome by the French. Whatever may be thought -of the prudence of this latter move, or whatever may be its remote -consequences, this at least is certain, that, but for Oudinot and his -army, the Eternal City would have been given up as a prey to the vilest -congregation of ruffians that ever profaned the name of liberty by -inscribing it on their blood-stained banners. To associate the cause -of such men with that of legitimate freedom is an utter perversion -of terms; and those who have been rash enough to do so must stand -convicted, before the world, of complete ignorance of their subject. No -pen, we believe, could adequately describe the atrocities which were -perpetrated in Rome, from the day when Count Rossi fell by the poniard -of the assassin, on the steps of the Quirinal palace, down to that on -which the gates were opened for the admittance of the besieging army. -Not the least of Popish miracles was the escape of Pius himself, who -beheld his secretary slain, and his bodyguard butchered by his side. -Of these things modern liberalism takes little note: it hears not -the blood of innocent and unoffending priests cry out for vengeance -from the pavement; it makes no account of pillage and spoliation, of -ransacked convent, or of harried home. It proclaims its sympathy aloud -with the robber and the bravo, and is not ashamed to throw the veil of -patriotism over the enormities of the brigand Garibaldi! - -When, therefore, not only a considerable portion of the press of this -country, but the government itself, is found espousing the cause of -revolution in the south of Europe, we need not be surprised if other -governments, at a period of so much danger and insecurity, regard -Great Britain as a renegade to the cause of order. Our position at -present is, in reality, one of great difficulty, and such as ought -to make us extremely cautious of indulging in unnecessary bravado. -The state of our financial affairs is anything but encouraging. We -are answerable for a larger debt than any other nation of the world; -and our economists are so sensible of the weight of our burdens, that -they would fain persuade us to denude ourselves even of the ordinary -means of defence. Our foreign exports are stationary; our imports -immensely increasing; our home market reduced, for the present, to a -state of terrible prostration. Free trade, by destroying the value -of agricultural produce, has almost extinguished our last hope of -restoring tranquillity to Ireland, and of raising that unhappy country -to the level of the sister kingdoms. It is in vain that we have -crippled ourselves to stay the recurring famine of years, since our -statesmen are leagued with famine, and resolute to persevere in their -iniquity. The old hatred of the Celt to the Saxon is still burning -in the bosoms of a large proportion of the misguided population of -Ireland; and were any opportunity afforded, it would break forth as -violently as ever. So that, even within the girdle of the four seas, -we are not exactly in that situation which might justify our provoking -unnecessary hostility from abroad. So far we are entirely at one with -the Peace Congress. When we look to the state of our colonies, the -prospect is not more encouraging. Through Whig misrule, our tenure of -the Canadas has become exceedingly precarious. The West Indies are -writhing in ruin; and even the inhabitants of the Cape are rampant, -from the duplicity of the Colonial Office. Our interest is most -clearly and obviously identified with the cause of order; for, were -Britain once actively engaged in a general war, it is possible that -the presence of her forces would be required in more than a single -point. Of the final result, in the event of such a calamity, we have no -doubt, but not the less, on that account, should we deeply deplore the -struggle. - -Such being our sentiments, it is with considerable pain that we feel -ourselves called upon to notice as strong an instance of charlatanism -and presumption as was ever exhibited in this country. Fortunately, -on this occasion, the offender has gone so far that no one can be -blind to his delinquencies; for, if there be any truth in the abstract -principles of the Peace Association, their last disciple has disowned -them; if the doctrines of free trade were intended to have universal -application, Richard Cobden, in the face of the universe, has entered -his protest against them. It signifies very little to us, and less to -the powers against whom he has thundered his anathemas, what Mr Cobden -thinks proper either to profess or repudiate; still, as he has been -pleased to attempt the performance of the part of Guy Fawkes, we judge -it necessary to conduct him from the coal-cellar, and to throw the -light of the lantern upon his visage, and that of his accomplices. And, -first, a word or two as to the occasion of his last appearance. - -The recent Hungarian rising is by no means to be classed in the same -category with the wretched Italian insurrections. Much as it is to -be deplored that any misunderstanding should have arisen between -the Austrian cabinet and the Hungarian Diet, so serious as to have -occasioned a war; we look upon the latter body as uninfluenced by -those wild democratic notions which have been and are still prevalent -in the west of Europe. Whatever may have been the case with Kossuth, -and some of his more ambitious confederates, the mass of the Hungarian -people had no wish whatever to rise in rebellion against their king. -Their quarrel was that of a minor state to which certain privileges -had been guaranteed; against the presumed infringement of which, by -their more powerful neighbour, they first protested, and finally -had recourse to arms. Their avowed object, throughout the earlier -part of the struggle, was not to overturn, but to maintain, certain -existing institutions: and it is remarkable that, from the day on -which Kossuth threw off the mask, and renounced allegiance to his -sovereign, the Hungarians lost confidence in their leader, and their -former energy decayed. We need not now discuss the abstract justice -of the Hungarian claims; but whatever may be thought of these, we -must, in common fairness to Austria, consider her peculiar position -at the time when they were sought to be enforced. Concessions which, -during a season of tranquillity, might have been gracefully made, were -rendered almost impossible when demanded with threats, in the midst -of insurrection and revolt. It was but too obvious that the leaders -of the Hungarian movement, forgetful of their fealty to the chief of -that great empire of which their country formed a part, were bent upon -increasing instead of lessening the difficulties with which Austria was -everywhere surrounded, and eager to avail themselves of distractions -elsewhere, for the purpose of dictating insolent and exorbitant terms. -In short, we believe that the real claims of Hungary, however they may -have formed the foundation of the discontent which ripened into war, -were used by Kossuth and his colleagues as instruments for their own -ambition; and that, by throwing off the mask too precipitately, they -opened the eyes of their followers to the true nature of their designs, -and forfeited that support which the realm was ready to accord the men -who, with a single and patriotic purpose, demanded nothing more than -the recognition of the rights of their country. - -It was but natural that the intervention of Russia should have been -viewed with some uneasiness in the west of Europe. Every movement -of that colossal power beyond the boundaries of its own territory -excites a feeling of jealousy, singularly disproportionate to the real -character of its resources, if Mr Cobden's estimate of these should -be adopted as the true one; and we fairly confess that we have no -desire to see any considerable augmentation made to the territorial -possessions of the Czar. But the assistance which, on this occasion, -has been sent to Austria by Russia, however much we may regret the -occasion which called the latter into activity, cannot surely be -tortured into any aggressive design. Apart from all our jealousies, it -was a magnanimous movement on the part of one powerful sovereign in -favour of a harassed ally; nor can we see how that assistance could -have been refused by Russia, without incurring the reproach of bad -faith, and running imminent risk with regard to her own dependencies. -Those active revolutionists, the Poles, whose presence behind every -barricade has been conspicuously marked and unblushingly avowed, showed -themselves foremost in all the disturbances which threatened the -dismemberment of Austria. By them the Hungarian army was principally -officered; and it now appears, from the intercepted correspondence of -their nominal chief, that the Hungarian insurrection was relied upon as -the first step for a fresh attempt towards the restoration of a Polish -kingdom. Under these circumstances, the Czar felt himself imperatively -called upon to act; and his honour has been amply vindicated by the -withdrawal of his forces after his mission was accomplished, and the -Hungarian insurrection quelled. - -It would undoubtedly have been far more satisfactory to every one, if -the differences between Austria and Hungary could have been settled -without an appeal to arms; but such a settlement was, we apprehend, -utterly beyond the powers even of the Peace Congress to effect; and -the next best thing is to know that tranquillity has actually been -restored. That a great deal of sympathy should be shown for the -Hungarians, is, under the circumstances, by no means unnatural. It -is no exaggeration to say, that hardly one man out of a thousand, in -Britain, comprehends the merits of the dispute, or is able, if called -upon, to give an intelligible account of the quarrel. Such amount of -knowledge, however, is by no means necessary to qualify a platform -orator for holding forth at a moment's notice; and, accordingly, -meetings expressive of sympathy with the persecuted Hungarians -were called in many of our larger towns, and the usual amount of -rhodomontade uttered, by gentlemen who make a point of exhibiting their -elocutionary powers upon the slightest colourable pretence. Had these -meetings been held earlier, they might have been worth something. We -shall not go the length of assuring the very shallow and conceited -personages who constitute the oratorical rump, or public debating -society of Edinburgh, that their opinions are likely to be esteemed -of surpassing importance, even if they were to be heard of so far as -St Petersburg or Vienna; for their utter ignorance of the aspect of -foreign affairs is such as would excite ridicule in the bosoms of -those whom they profess to patronise and applaud. But if they really -were impressed with the notion that the claims of Hungary were of such -mighty importance, how was it that they tarried until the consideration -of all constitutional questions had been swallowed up in war--until -those who fully understood the true position of Hungary, and her -rights as legally guaranteed and defined, were forced to acknowledge -that, through the violence, treachery, and ambition of the insurgent -nobles, all hope of a pacific settlement had disappeared; and that -the best result which Europe could hope for, was the speedy quenching -of an insurrection, now broadly revolutionary and republican, and -threatening to spread still wider the devastating flames of anarchy? -The explanation we believe to be a very simple one. Most of them knew -as much of the affairs of Cappadocia as they did of those of Hungary, -and they would have been equally ready to spout in favour of either -country. - -Late in July, Mr Bernal Osborne, backed by Mr R. M. Milnes, whose -knowledge of politics is about equal to his skill in the construction -of dactyls, brought forward the Hungarian question in the House of -Commons, and thereby gave Lord Palmerston an opportunity of unbosoming -himself on that branch of our European relations. His lordship's -speech, on that occasion, was very much lauded at the time; but on -referring to it now, we are somewhat at a loss to understand how it -could have given satisfaction to any one. It was, indeed, as insulting -to Austria, whose back was then supposed to be at the wall, as any -opponent of constitutional government could have desired. Alliance -was sneered at, as a mere empty word of no significance whatever: -nor can we much wonder at this ebullition, considering the manner in -which his lordship has thought proper to deal with other powers, who -attached some value to the term. This topic was, further, a congenial -one, inasmuch as it afforded the Foreign Secretary an opportunity -of gibing at his predecessor, Lord Aberdeen, whose sense of honour -does not permit him to identify the solemn treaties of nations with -folios of waste paper; and who, therefore, was held up to ridicule as -a pattern of "antiquated imbecility." But, after all this persiflage, -which could serve no purpose whatever, save that of giving vent to an -unusual secretion of Palmerstonian bile, it appeared that his lordship -was actually to do nothing at all. He regretted, just as much as we do, -and probably not more than the Austrian cabinet, that no accommodation -of differences had taken place. He said, very truly, that whatever the -result of the struggle might be, it could not strengthen the stability -of the Austrian empire; but at the same time he distinctly repudiated -all intention of interfering beyond mere passive advice, and he could -not deny the right of Austria, if it thought proper, to call in the -aid of the Russian arms. His conclusion, in short, was sound, and we -only regret that, while it was so, the tone and temper of his speech -were not equally judicious. This debate in the House of Commons was -immediately followed up by a public meeting at the London Tavern, -presided over by Mr Alderman Salomons. - -We had not the good fortune to be present on that occasion; but, from -the accounts contained in the morning papers, it must have been an -assemblage of a singularly motley kind. There was a considerable muster -of Radical members of parliament; the Financial Reform and the Peace -Associations were respectively represented; Lord Nugent and Mr Milnes -stood forth as delegates from the Bards of Britain; Julian Harney and -Mr G. W. M. Reynolds headed a numerous band of Chartists; and Lord -Dudley Stuart, as a matter of course, was surrounded by a whiskered -phalanx of Poles, Hungarians, Italians, Germans, and Sicilians, each -one striving to look more patriotically ferocious than his neighbour. -The first sympathetic resolution was moved by a Quaker, and seconded -by no less a person than Richard Cobden, who had only been prevented -from attending the previous debate in the House of Commons by a -swan-hopping expedition on the Thames. - -Then it was that Mr Cobden first favoured the world with some -economical views, so exceedingly novel and startling, as to excite, -even in that audience, unequivocal symptoms of incredulity. He set -out by laying it down as a general rule, that every separate state -ought to be left to the management of its own affairs, without the -interference of any foreign power whatever. "If," said he, "this had -been a question simply between Hungary and Austria, I should not have -appeared here to-day, nor indeed would it have been necessary for any -of us to have appeared here to-day. So long as the Hungarians were -left to settle their affairs with the government of Vienna, they were -perfectly competent to do it, without the interference of the citizens -of London." This is intelligible enough. So long as central governments -are merely fighting with their own dependencies, there is no room at -all, according to Mr Cobden, for interference. It matters not which -side prevails: they must be left wholly to themselves. This doctrine -could not, we think, have been very acceptable to the Poles; since it -amounts to an entire admission that Russia has a right to deal with -them at her pleasure; neither is it altogether consistent with our -ideas, or interpretation of the law of nations. But it is Cobden's -view, and therefore let it pass, to him, then, it mattered nothing -whether Goth or Hun prevailed--it was the intervention of Russia that -peremptorily called him to the platform. Now we must own, that we -cannot understand this sort of reasoning, though it may possibly be -suited to the capacities of a Manchester audience. If, as many people -no doubt conscientiously believe, Austria was trampling upon the -liberties of a brave and loyal people, not only justice, but humanity -demands that our sympathies should be enlisted on their side. We cannot -acquiesce in a doctrine which would have left the Greeks (lamentably -small sense as they have shown of the benefits of liberty) to toil on -for ever under the grievous yoke of the Ottoman: nor are we prepared -to carry our apathy to so extreme a length. The intervention of Russia -could not, by any possibility, alter the complexion of the quarrel. -It might either crush freedom, or maintain constitutional government -and the balance of power in Europe; but the principle of the contest, -whatever that might be, was declared before Russia appeared, and -according as men view it, so should their sympathies be given. The -whole question, however, as Mr Cobden put the case, turned upon Russian -interference. - -If Mr Cobden's next door neighbour happened to have a dispute with -his operatives, touching the interpretation of certain points of the -Charter, and if the latter, in their zeal for enlightenment, were to -set fire to their master's premises, we apprehend that the honourable -member for the West Riding, (having neglected his own insurance,) -might blamelessly bear a hand to quench the threatening conflagration. -Further, if he were assured that the said operatives, assisted by -a gang of deserters from his own mills, were trying their hands at -an incendiary experiment, preliminary to operating upon his calico -warehouses, how could he be blamed, if he sallied to attack the rioters -in their first position? Yet, if we are permitted to compare very -great things with small, this was precisely the situation of Russia. -If she did not assist Austria, the flame would have been kindled -in her own provinces; if the Hungarian insurrection had triumphed, -Poland would have been up in arms. With the old partition of Poland -we have nothing now to do, any more than with the junction of the -Slavonic provinces with Austria. Right or wrong, these have long become -acknowledged facts in European history, and the boundary divisions -have been acquiesced in by a congress of the assembled nations. We -cannot go back upon matters of ancient right and occupation; were we -to do so, the peace of every nation in Europe must necessarily be -disturbed, and no alternative would remain, save the Utopian one of -parcelling out territory according to the language of the inhabitants. -Boundaries must be settled somehow. They were so settled, by the -consent of all the nations, at the treaty of Vienna; and our duty, -as well as our interest, is to adhere to that arrangement. Russia, by -assisting Austria, has in no way contravened any of the stipulations -of that treaty. From the moment when the Hungarian party declared -their country independent, and proclaimed a republic, a new cause -of discord and misrule was opened in the east of Europe, and the -greatest of the eastern potentates was not only entitled but forced -to interfere. It by no means follows that we, who uphold this view, -have any partiality or liking for Russian institutions. No man who -lives in a free country, like ours, can possibly sympathise with -despotism, serfism, and that enormous stretch of feudal power which -is given to a privileged class--we must regard such things with a -feeling nearly akin to abhorrence; nor can we, with our Saxon notions, -fancy existence even tolerable in such a state of society. But our -likings or disgusts cannot alter matters as they stand. We cannot force -other nations to see with our eyes, to think with our thoughts, or to -adapt their constitutions according to the measure of our accredited -standard of excellence. That amount of irresponsible and uncontrolled -action which we term freedom, presupposes the existence of a large and -general spread of intelligence throughout the community, fixed laws -of property, consolidated social relationship, pure administration of -justice, and wisdom and temperance on the part of the governed and the -governor. Such things are not the rapid results of months, or years, or -centuries. They are of slow growth, but they are the inevitable fruits -of order; and very blind and ignorant must that man be who does not -see the hand of progress at work even in the institutions of Russia. -That country emerged from barbarism later than the rest of Europe, but, -since the days of Peter the Czar, its strides towards civilisation -have been most rapid. Commerce has been established, manufactures -introduced, learning and the arts cultivated, and such a foundation -laid as, in no very long time, must perforce secure to all ranks of -the people a larger share of freedom than they are now qualified to -enjoy. Revolution cannot hasten such a state of matters, but it may -materially retard it. Foolish and short-sighted men seem to think that -revolt is a synonymous term with freedom, and, accordingly, they hail -each fresh outbreak with shouts of indiscriminate approval. They can -draw no distinction between the revolt of the barons and that of Jack -Cade in England; they are as ready to applaud Spartacus as Brutus; -they think a peasant's war as meritorious as the up-raising of the -standard of the League. They never stop to consider that freedom is a -mere relative term, and that it is worse than useless to pluck down -one form of government by violence, unless a better is to be reared in -its stead. And who can venture to say that this would have been the -case with Hungary? Who would predict it with certainty even of Poland, -were that dismembered kingdom to be restored? It is notorious that -Poland went to pieces under the weight of its elective monarchy, and -the perpetual feuds, turbulence, and tyranny of a lawless and fierce -aristocracy. No doubt, men will fight for these things--they will fight -for traditions, and bad ones too, as keenly as for the most substantial -benefits. A century ago, the Highlanders would have fought to the death -for clanship, chieftainship, heritable jurisdictions, and the right of -foray and of feud; but will any man now raise up his voice in favour -of the old patriarchal constitution? In Ireland, at this moment, we -believe that a large body of the Celts is willing to stand up for a -restoration of the days of Malachi of the Golden Collar--a form of -government which, we presume, even an O'Connell would decline. This is -just the case with our sympathisers. They take it for granted that, -because there is revolt, there must be a struggle for freedom, and they -are perfectly ready to accept, without the slightest examination, any -legend that may be coined for the nonce. Gullible as a considerable -number of the British public may be, especially that section of the -public which delights in platform oratory, we really could not have -believed that any assemblage could be so utterly ignorant, as to -receive a statement to the effect that the old constitution of Hungary -bore a close resemblance to our own! - -We are tempted here to insert an extract from the works of a popular -writer regarding the constitution of Poland, because it expresses, in -excellent language, the opinions which we are attempting to set forth -in this article, and denounces the folly of those who confound the term -freedom with its just and rational application. Will the reader favour -us by perusing the following passage with attention?--when he has done -so, we shall state from whose eloquent pen it proceeded. - -"Of how trifling consequence it must be to the practical minded and -humane people of Great Britain, or to the world at large, whether -Poland be governed by a king of this dynasty or of that--whether he -be lineally descended from Boleslas the Great, or of the line of the -Jagellons--contrasted with the importance of the inquiries as to the -social and political condition of its people--whether they be as -well or worse governed, clothed, fed, and lodged in the present day -as compared with any former period,--whether the mass of the people -be elevated in the scale of moral and religious beings,--whether -the country enjoys a smaller or a larger amount of the blessings of -peace; or whether the laws for the protection of life and property -are more or less justly administered. These are the all-important -inquiries about which we busy ourselves; and it is to cheat us of our -stores of philanthropy, by an appeal to the sympathy with which we -regard these vital interests of a whole people, that the declaimers -and writers upon the subject invariably appeal to us on behalf of the -oppressed and enslaved _Polish nation_--carefully obscuring, amidst the -cloud of epithets about 'ancient freedom,' 'national independence,' -'glorious republic,' and the like, the fact that, previously to the -dismemberment, the term _nation_ implied only the nobles;--that, down -to the partition of their territory, about nineteen out of every -twenty of the inhabitants were slaves, possessing no rights, civil or -political; that about one in every twenty was a nobleman--and that that -body of nobles formed the very worst aristocracy of ancient or modern -times; putting up and pulling down their kings at pleasure; passing -selfish laws, which gave them the power of life and death over their -serfs, whom they sold and bought like dogs or horses; usurping, to each -of themselves, the privileges of a petty sovereign, and denying to all -besides the meanest rights of human beings; and, scorning all pursuits -as degrading, except that of the sword, they engaged in incessant wars -with neighbouring states, or plunged their own country into all the -horrors of anarchy, for the purpose of giving employment to themselves -and their dependants." And the same writer, after remarking upon the -character and conduct of the privileged class in Poland, in language -which is just as applicable to those of the Hungarian nobles, thus -accounts for the insurrection in 1830. The Italics are his own. "_We -hesitate not emphatically to assert, that it was wholly, and solely, -and exclusively, at the instigation, and for the selfish benefit, -of this aristocratic faction of the people, that the Polish nation -suffered for twelve months the horrors of civil war, was thrown back -in her career of improvement, and has since had to endure the rigours -of a conqueror's vengeance._ The Russian government was aware of this; -and its severity has since been chiefly directed towards the nobility." -And in a note appended to the above paragraph he says, "The peasants -joined, to a considerable extent, the standard of revolt; but this was -to be expected, in consequence of the influence necessarily exercised -over them by the superior classes. Besides, patriotism or nationality -is an instinctive virtue, that sometimes burns the brightest in the -rudest and least reasoning minds; and its manifestation bears no -proportion to the value of the possessions defended, or the object to -be gained. The Russian serfs at Borodino, the Turkish slaves at Ismail, -and the lazzaroni of Naples, fought for their masters and oppressors -more obstinately than the free citizens of Paris or Washington did, at -a subsequent period, in defence of those capitals." - -And who was the author of these very lucid and really excellent -remarks? We reply, RICHARD COBDEN, ESQ. The curious in such matters -will find these, and many similar passages, in a pamphlet entitled -_Russia, by a Manchester Manufacturer_, which was published in 1836, -for the purpose of showing that, on the whole, it would be an advantage -to British commerce if Russia were to lay violent hands on Turkey, and -possess herself of Constantinople! - -But it is time we should return to the London Tavern meeting, where -we left Mr Cobden, this time denouncing the active interference of -Russia. Here the apostle of peace was certainly upon ticklish ground. -Large as his estimate undoubtedly is of his own influence and power, -he could hardly expect, that, because he and some other gentlemen -of inferior endowments were pleased to hold a meeting in the London -Tavern, and pass resolutions condemnatory of the conduct of the Czar, -the immediate consequence would be a withdrawal of the Russian forces. -Under such circumstances, as he must have perfectly well known, the -expression of his opinion was not worth the splinter of a rush to the -Hungarians, unless, indeed, he were prepared to follow up his words -by deeds. On the other hand, he was debarred, by some fifty public -declarations, from advocating the propriety of a war: not only upon the -general pacific principle--for that might easily have been evaded,--but -upon economical considerations connected with his darling scheme of -reducing the British navy and army, which would be clearly incompatible -with the commencement of a general European conflict. An ordinary man, -entertaining such views and sentiments, would probably have considered -himself as lodged between the horns of an inextricable dilemma. Not -so Cobden, whose genius rose to the difficulty. The experience of -a hundred platform fights had taught him this great truth, that no -proposition was too monstrous to be crammed down the public throat, -provided the operator possessed the requisite share of effrontery; and -he straightway proceeded, _secundum artem_, to exhibit a masterpiece of -his skill. - -Probably not one man in all that room but had been impressed, from his -youth upwards, with a wholesome terror and respect for the magnitude of -the Russian power. That, at all events, was the feeling of the Poles, -and decidedly of the Polish champions. But in less than an instant -they were disabused. Most of our readers must have seen how a small -figure, painted on a tiny slip of glass, may, when passed through -the aperture of a magic lantern, be made to reflect the attitude and -dimensions of a giant: Cobden's trick was exactly the opposite of -this; he made the actual giant appear in the dwindled proportions of -a dwarf. "I will tell you," said he, "how we can bring moral force to -bear on these armed despots. We can stop the supplies. (Loud cheers.) -Why, Russia can't carry on two campaigns beyond her own frontiers, -without coming to Western Europe for a loan. She never has done so, -without being either subsidised by England, or borrowing money from -Amsterdam. I tell you I have paid a visit there, and I assert that they -cannot carry on two campaigns in Hungary, without either borrowing -money in Western Europe or robbing the bank at St Petersburg. (A laugh, -and a cry of 'Question.') That must be a Russian agent, a spy, for -this is the question. I know," continued our magniloquent Richard, -"that the Russian party, here and abroad, would rather that I should -send against them a squadron of cavalry and a battery of cannon, than -that I should fire off the facts that I am about to tell you. I say, -then, that Russia cannot carry on two campaigns without a loan." We -believe that the latter part of Mr Cobden's statement is tolerably -accurate, so that he need not give himself any further trouble about -the production of his indicated horse and artillery. We agree with -him that Russia might be puzzled to carry on two vigorous campaigns -without a loan; but we should be glad to know what country in Europe -is not in the same predicament? War, as everybody knows, is a very -costly matter--not much cheaper than revolution, though a good deal -more speedy in its results--and every nation which engages in it must, -perforce, liquidate the expense. Great Britain could not, any more -than Russia, go to war without a loan. In such an event, the only -difference would be that the British loan must necessarily be six or -seven times greater than that of Russia, for this simple reason, that -Russia has a large standing army levied and prepared, whereas we have -not. Now what is there to prevent Russia from negotiating a loan? The -first question, we apprehend, is the state of her finances--let us -see whether there is any symptom of approaching bankruptcy in these. -The debt of Russia, according to the most recent authorities, is -seventy-six millions, being as near as possible one tenth of our own. -Her revenue is about seventeen millions, or one-third of ours. So -far, therefore, as the mere elements of credit go, Russia would, in -the eyes of the capitalist, be the more eligible debtor of the two. -There could, we apprehend, be no possible doubt of her solvency, for, -with large resources behind, she has a mere fraction of a debt, and -her power of raising revenue by taxes has been little exercised. Our -readers will better understand this by keeping in mind, that, while -the revenue presently levied is just one-third of ours, the population -of Russia is considerably more than double that of Great Britain and -Ireland. Mr Cobden, however, accepting, as we presume he must do, the -above official facts, draws from them inferences of a very startling -character. "Don't let any one talk," said he, "of Russian resources. -It is the poorest and most beggarly country in Europe. It has not a -farthing. Last year there was an immense deficit in its income as -compared with its expenditure, and during the present financial year -it will be far worse. Russia a strong political power! Why, there -is not so gigantic a political imposture in all Europe." And again, -"Russia a strong, a powerful, and a rich country! Don't believe any -one who tells you so in future. Refer them to me." We feel deeply -obliged to Mr Cobden for the last suggestion, but we would rather, -with his permission, refer to facts. If the poorest and most beggarly -country in Europe has contrived to rear its magnificent metropolis -from the marshes of the gelid Neva, to create and maintain large and -well-equipped fleets in the Baltic and the Black seas, and to keep up -a standing army of about half a million of men, without increasing its -permanent debt beyond the amount already specified, all we shall say -is, that the semi-civilised Russian is in possession of an economical -secret utterly unknown to the statesmen of more favoured climes, -and that the single farthing in his hand, has produced results more -wonderful than any achieved by the potency of the lamp of Aladdin. But -the climax has yet to come. Waxing bolder and bolder on the strength -of each successive assertion of Russian weakness and impotency, the -Apostle of Peace assumed the attitude of defiance: "If Russia should -take a step that required England, or any other great maritime power, -like the United States, to attack that power, why, we should fall like -a thunderbolt upon her. You would in six months crumple that empire -up, or drive it into its own dreary fastnesses, as I now crumple up -that piece of paper in my hand!!!" Here is a pretty fellow for you! -This invincible fire-eater is the same man who, for the last couple -of years, has been agitating for the reduction of the army and navy, -on the ground that the whole world was in a state of the profoundest -peace, and likely so to remain! This crumpler-up and defier of empires -is the gentleman who held forth this bygone summer, at Paris, on the -wickedness of war, and on the spread of fraternity and brotherly love -among the nations! Why, if old Admiral Drake had risen from the dead, -he could not have spoken in a more warlike strain, only the temper -and tone of his remarks would have been different. A hero is bold but -temperate: a demagogue blustering and pot-valiant. - -It is but right to say, that this impudent and mischievous trash, -though of course abundantly cheered by many of the poor creatures who -knew no better, did not altogether impose upon the meeting. Mr Bernal -Osborne could not find it in his conscience to acquiesce, even tacitly, -in this monstrous attempt at imposition, and accordingly, though "he -coincided in much that had been said by the member for the West Riding, -he must take the liberty to say that, in exposing the weakness of -Russia, he had gone rather too far. Forewarned was forearmed, and -let them not lay it to their hearts that the great empire was not to -be feared, but despised." And therefore, he, Mr Osborne, "would be -sorry if any man in the meeting should go away with the impression -that the monstrous Pansclavonic empire was to be thoroughly despised." -Neither did the chairman exactly approve of the line of discussion -which had been introduced by Mr Cobden. He said, with great truth, -that they had nothing to do at present with the resources of Russia; -their business being simply to consider the wrongs of Hungary, and to -give utterance to such an expression of opinion as might act upon the -British government. Mr Salomons is a practical man, and understands the -use of mob-meetings, which is to coerce and compel Whig administrations -to do precisely what the frequenters of the London Tavern desire. -Better versed, by a great deal, in monetary matters than Mr Cobden, -he knows that financial discussions are utterly out of place in such -an assemblage; and, moreover, we have a strong suspicion that the -latter part of Mr Cobden's speech, to which we are just about to refer, -must have sounded harshly in the ears of a gentleman of the Hebrew -persuasion, initiated, after the custom of his tribe, in the mysteries -of borrowing and lending. Up to this point we have considered Mr Cobden -in the united character of peace-maker and bully: let us now see how he -contrives to combine the hitherto antagonistic qualities of free-trader -and restrictionist. - -Having, satisfactorily to himself, demonstrated the pitiable weakness -of Russia, and having got over the notorious fact of her large bullion -deposit, and her purchases in the British funds, by explaining that -the first is the foundation of her currency, and the second a private -operation of the Bank of St Petersburg--an establishment which, -according to his showing, is no way connected with the government--Mr -Cobden proceeded to unravel his schemes for paring the claws of the -northern Bear. It has the merit of pure simplicity. Not one penny is -henceforward to be lent to the Russian government. The capitalists of -Europe are henceforth to look, not to the security, but to the motives -of the borrowing power. If they think that the money required is to be -expended in purchasing munitions of war, in fitting out an armament, or -in any other way hostile to the continuance of peace, they are grimly -to close their coffers, shake their heads, and refuse to advance one -single sixpence, whatever be the amount of percentage offered; and this -kind of moral force, Mr Cobden thinks, would not only be effectual, but -can easily be brought into action. Let us hear him. "Now, will any one -in the city of London dare to be a party to a loan to Russia, either -directly or openly, or by agency and copartnership with any house -in Amsterdam or Paris? Will any one dare, I say, to come before the -citizens of this free country, and avow that he has lent his money for -the purpose of cutting the throats of the innocent people of Hungary? -I have heard such a project talked of. But let it only assume a shape, -and I promise you that we, the peace party, will have such a meeting -as has not yet been held in London, for the purpose of denouncing the -blood-stained project--for the purpose of pointing the finger of scorn -at the house, or the individuals, who would employ their money in such -a manner--for the purpose of fixing an indelible stigma of infamy upon -the men who would lend their money for such a vile, unchristian, and -barbarous purpose. That is my moral force. As for Austria, no one, I -suppose, would ever think of lending her money." We shall, by-and-by, -have occasion to see more of Mr Cobden in connexion with the Austrian -loan; in the mean time, let us keep to the general proposition. The -meaning of the above unadorned fustian is simply this--that no man -shall, in future, presume to lend his money without consulting the -views of Mr Cobden and his respectable confederates. This ukase--and -a magnificent one it is--was rapturously received by his audience; a -fiat of approval which we set no great store on, seeing that, in all -probability, not fifty of those excellent philanthropists could command -as many pounds for the permanent purpose of investment. But the idea -of controlling, by their sweet voices, the monetary operations of the -great banking-houses of the world, the Rothschilds, the Barings, and -the Hopes, was too delicious a hallucination not to be rewarded with a -corresponding cheer. Now, setting aside the absolute impudence of the -proposal--for we presume Mr Cobden must have known that he had as much -power to stay the flux of the tides, as to regulate the actions of the -money-lenders--what are we to think of the new principle enunciated -by the veteran free-trader? What becomes of the grand doctrine of -buying in the cheapest and selling in the dearest market, without -the slightest regard to any other earthly consideration, save that -of price? Will Mr Cobden NOW venture to persuade us that he had some -mental reservation, when he propounded that ever-memorable axiom; or -that dealers in coin were to be regulated by a different code of moral -laws from that which was laid down for the use of the more fortunate -dealers in calico? We presume, that, without cotton, and blankets, and -machinery exported from this country, the slaves of Cuba could hardly -be made to work--why, then, should we not clap an embargo on these -articles, and point with the finger of scorn, disgust, and execration, -to every man who traffics in that unholy trade? And yet, if our memory -serves us right, no very long time has elapsed since we beggared our -West Indian colonies, solely to drive a larger trade in those articles -with the slave plantations, for behoof of Messrs Cobden and Co. -Slavery, we presume, is an institution not congenial to the mind of Mr -Cobden--at least we hope not, and we are sure he would not be willing -to admit it. In point of humanity, it is rather worse than war; why -not, then, let us have a strong exercise of moral force to abolish it, -by stopping the supplies? The withdrawal of our custom, for three or -four years, would effectually knock Cuba on the head. Why not try it? -We should like to see Mr Cobden's face, if such a proposition were -made in Parliament; and yet is it not as rational, and a great deal -more feasible, than the other? But it is a positive waste of time to -dwell further upon such a glaring absurdity as this. Baron Rothschild, -member-elect though he be for the city of London, will care very little -for the extended digit of Mr Cobden, and will doubtless consult his own -interest, without troubling himself about Manchester demagogues, when -the next Russian loan is proposed. - -Having delivered himself of this remarkable oration, Mr Cobden very -wisely withdrew; perhaps he had a slight suspicion of the scene which -was presently to follow. The majority of the meeting consisted of -gentlemen whose notions about moral force were exceedingly vague and -general. Their strong British instincts, inflamed by the stimulus of -beer, led them to question the use of abstract sympathy, unless it was -to be followed up by action; and accordingly Mr Reynolds, a person of -some literary as well as political notoriety, thought it his duty to -give a more practical turn to the deliberations of the meeting, and -thereby cut short several interesting harangues. We quote from the -report of the _Times_ of 24th July. - - "Mr G. W. M. REYNOLDS, whose remarks were frequently followed by - interruption and cries of 'question,' next addressed the meeting. - He avowed his belief, that in so holy, sacred, and solemn a cause, - England must even go to war in defence of Hungary, if necessary. - (This assertion was received with such hearty cheering as proved - that the speaker had expressed the sentiments of the vast body of - the meeting.) All the moral effects of that meeting (continued Mr - Reynolds) would be perfectly useless, unless they were prepared - to go further. If the government would employ some of the ships - that were now rotting in our harbours, and some of the troops now - marching about London, that would really benefit the Hungarians. - (Cheers.) France used to be regarded as a barrier against - Russia, but France was no longer so, because that humbug Louis - Napoleon (tremendous cheers--and three hearty groans for Louis - Napoleon)--that rank impostor (continued cheering)-- - - "The CHAIRMAN here interfered, and much interruption ensued. - If anything could disturb and injure the cause which they were - met to support, it was such remarks as they had just heard. - ("No, no.") If he (the Chairman) were a spy of Russia, he should - follow out the course pursued by Mr Reynolds. (Much confusion and - disapprobation.)" #/ - -We really cannot see wherein the author of the _Mysteries of London_ -was to blame. His proposition had, at all events, the merit of being -intelligible, which Mr Cobden's was not, and he clearly spoke the -sentiments of the large majority of the unwashed. He certainly went a -little out of his way, to denounce the President of the French Republic -as an impostor: a deviation which we regret the more, as he might have -found ample scope for such expositions without going further than -the speeches of the gentlemen who immediately preceded him. We need -not linger over the ensuing scene. Mr Duncan--"said to be a Chartist -poet"--attempted to address the meeting, but seems to have failed. We -do not remember to have met with any of Mr Duncan's lyrics, but we -have a distinct impression of having seen a gentleman of his name, -and imputed principles, at the bar of the High Court of Justiciary in -Edinburgh. But if the sacred voice of one poet was not listened to, the -same meed of inattention was bestowed upon another. The arms of Mr R. -M. Milnes were seen hopelessly gesticulating above the press; and Lord -Dudley Stuart, for once, was cut short in his stereotyped harangue. The -case was perfectly clear: Reynolds was the only man who had enunciated -a practical idea, and accordingly the voice of the meeting was -unequivocally declared for war. - -We hope that the Peace Congress, and the economists, and the -free-traders, are all equally delighted with this notable exhibition -of their hero. If they are so, we certainly have no further commentary -to offer. To secure peace, Mr Cobden openly defies and challenges -Russia; to further economy, he does his best to inflame the passions of -the people, and to get up a cry for war; to vindicate free trade, he -proposes henceforward to coerce Lombard Street. Is there, in all the -history of imposture, an instance comparable to this? Possibly there -may be; but, if so, we are certain it was better veiled. - -The evil luck of Mr Cobden still clung to him. Within a very short time -after this memorable meeting was held, the Hungarian armies surrendered -at discretion, and the insurrection was thoroughly quenched. Not two, -not even one complete campaign, were necessary to put an end to an -ill-advised struggle, in which the hearts of the Hungarian people were -never sincerely enlisted; and good men hoped that the sword might now -be sheathed in the eastern territories of Europe. That portion of -the press which had sympathised with the insurgents, and hailed with -frantic delight the suicidal resolution of the Hungarian chiefs to -separate themselves for ever from the house of Austria, was terribly -mortified at a result so speedy and unexpected; and did its best to -keep up the excitement at home, by multiplying special instances of -cruelty and barbarity said to have been wrought by the victors on the -persons of their vanquished foemen. That many such instances really -occurred we do not for a moment doubt. When the passions of men have -been inflamed by civil war, and whetted by a desire for vengeance, -it is always difficult for the authorities to preserve a proper -restraint. This is the case even among civilised nations; and when -we reflect that a large portion of the troops on either side engaged -in the Hungarian war, cannot with any justice be termed civilised, -it is no wonder if deeds of wanton atrocity should occur. Indeed, -late events may lead us to question how far civilisation, on such -occasions, can ever operate as a check. Who could have believed that -last year, in Frankfort, a young and gallant nobleman, whose sole -offence was, the free expressions of his opinions in a parliament -convened by universal suffrage, should have been put to death at -noonday by lingering torments, and his groans of agony echoed back by -the laughter of his brutal assassins? The names of Felix Lichnowsky -and Von Auerswaldt will surely long be remembered to the infamy of -that city which was the birthplace of Goethe, and boasted of itself -as the refined capital of the Rhenish provinces. A veil of mystery -still hangs over the circumstances connected with the assassination -of Count Latour; and though we are unwilling to give currency to a -rumour, which would entail infamy on the memory of one who has since -passed to his account, the victim of an unbridled ambition, strong -suspicions exist that a Hungarian minister was directly privy to that -act of dastardly and cruel murder. But there is no manner of doubt -at all as to the atrocities which were committed in Vienna when that -hapless city was in the hands of the red republicans and the Poles. -Pillage, murder, and violation were crimes of every-day occurrence, -and it is not wonderful if the memory of these wrongs has in some -instances goaded on the victors to a revenge which all must deplore. -As to the military executions which have taken place, we have a word -to say. The suppression of almost every revolt has been followed by -strong measures on the part of the conquerors, against those who -excited the insurrection. Our own history is full of them. Succeeding -generations, according to their estimate of the justness of the cause -which they espoused, have blamed, or pitied, or applauded the conduct -of the men who thus perilled and lost their lives; but the necessity -of such executions has rarely or never been questioned. We allude, -of course, to those who have been the leaders and instigators of the -movement, and upon whom the responsibility, and the expiation for -the blood which has been shed must fall; not to the subordinates who -ought to be, and almost always are, the proper objects of mercy. The -most ardent Jacobite, while he deplored the death, and vindicated the -principles of Lords Balmerino and Kilmarnock, never thought of blaming -the government of the day for having sent those devoted noblemen to -the block. But in their case the execution assumed the character of a -terrible national solemnity--not hastily enacted, but following after a -deliberate trial before unprejudiced judges, upon which the attention -and interest of the whole country was concentrated. And, therefore, -while posterity has been unanimous in expressing its abhorrence of the -bloody butcheries of William, Duke of Cumberland, after the battle -of Culloden, no reflection has been thrown upon the ministers of -George II. for having allowed the law to take its course against the -more prominent leaders of the rebellion, even though the sympathies -of many good men have been enlisted on the losing side. Now, we do -not hesitate to condemn most strongly the conduct of Austria on the -present occasion. No judicial process, so far as we can learn, has been -instituted against the captive chiefs, save that which is equivalent -to no process at all--the sentence of a court-martial. Except in cases -of the most absolute necessity, the functions of the soldier and the -judge ought never to be combined and confounded. When the flame of -civil war is once trodden out, the civil law ought immediately to -resume its wonted supremacy. Treason and rebellion are undoubtedly the -highest of all crimes; but, being the highest, it is therefore the more -necessary that they should be subjected to the gravest investigation; -so that in no way may the punishment inflicted, on account of a heinous -breach of the law, be mistaken, even by the most ignorant, for an act -of hurried vengeance. We may perhaps have no right to object to the -measure of the punishment. We cannot know what charges were brought, -or even substantiated against the unfortunate Hungarian leaders of -Arad. We are quite unaware what disclosures may have been laid before -the Austrian government as to the participation of Count Bathyany in -Kossuth's republican schemes. One and all of them may have been guilty -in the worst degree; one and all of them may have deserved to die; -and it is even possible that circumstances may have rendered such a -terrible example necessary, for the future preservation of order; but -the manner in which the punishment has been dealt, is, we think, wholly -indefensible. It is no answer to say, that the administration of the -laws of Austria is different from that of our own, and that we are -not entitled to apply the measure of a foreign standard. No point of -legal technicality, or even consuetude is involved; there is but one -law which, whatever be its extrinsic form, ought to regulate such a -proceeding as this--a law which, we trust, is acknowledged in Austria -as well as in Britain--the law of justice and humanity. The most -suspected criminal, when arraigned before secret and biassed judges, -loses, in the estimation of the public, half his imputed criminality. -He has not had a fair trial; and, if condemned, it is possible that -his execution may be considered rather as a case of martyrdom, than as -one of righteous punishment. A court-martial never is a satisfactory -tribunal; least of all can it be satisfactory when the object of its -inquiry arises from a civil war. The judges have seen too much of -the actual misery and ruin which has occurred to be impartial. That -propensity to vengeance, from which it can hardly be said that even the -noblest nature is altogether exempt, so nearly akin is it to righteous -indignation, is at such times unnaturally excited. The fiery zeal, -which shows so graceful in the soldier, is utterly unsuited to the -ermine; and when the ermine is thrown, as in this instance, above the -soldier's uniform, there can be very little doubt that ancient habit -and inflamed passion will supersede judicial deliberation. By acting -thus, we conscientiously believe that Austria has inflicted a serious -injury on herself. She has given to those who are her enemies a heavy -cause of argument and reproach against those who are her well-wishers; -and the immediate and not unnatural result will be an increased amount -of sympathy for the political fugitives, and a great disinclination to -canvass their true motives and their characters. Francis Joseph at the -outset of his reign will be stigmatised--most unjustly, indeed, for the -fault lies not with him--as a relentless tyrant, and all who escape -from tyranny are sure of popular though indiscriminate compassion. - -We have thought it our duty to make those remarks at the present time, -because out of this Hungarian affair a question has arisen in which -we are to a certain extent implicated, and which may possibly, though -we do not think probably, be productive of most serious results. We -allude, of course, to the joint demand of Russia and Austria upon -Turkey for the surrender of the political fugitives at Widdin. In -common with the whole public press of this country, we consider such a -demand, on general grounds, to be unexampled and unjust. The abstract -right of every independent nation to afford shelter to political -fugitives, has, we believe, never been questioned; but, even had it -been doubtful, there are very many reasons, founded upon humanity -and honour, why all of us should combine to protest against a claim -so imperiously and threateningly advanced. Cases may arise, and have -arisen, where the privilege has been scandalously abused. For example, -the Baden insurgents have fled for shelter across the frontier of -Switzerland, and have there remained hatching treason, collecting -adherents, and waiting for an opportunity of renewing their treasonable -designs. In such a case, we conceive that the threatened government has -a decided right to require the sheltering country to remove or banish -those fugitives from its territory, and in the event of a refusal, to -declare that a proper _casus belli_. But this, it will be seen, is -widely different from a demand for the surrender of the fugitives; and -we presume that, in the case of the Hungarians, no allegation can be -made, that they have sought harbour, and remain in Turkey, with a view -towards renewing their attempt. Unquestionably it is quite competent -for states to enter into treaties in fulfilment of which political -fugitives must be surrendered when claimed. Such a treaty is said to -exist between Russia and Turkey; but it is clearly not applicable -in the case of such of the Hungarian refugees as have claimed the -shelter of the latter power. Russia, in this quarrel, appears only as -the ally of Austria; and she can have no right to admit the latter to -a direct participation in any of the stipulations contained in her -peculiar treaty. No Hungarian is a subject of Russia; and, therefore, -under that treaty, he cannot possibly be reclaimed. With regard to the -Polish refugees, there certainly does seem to be a difference; and we -care not to own, that we feel far less interest for them than for the -Hungarians. Their own national struggle excited throughout Europe great -sympathy and compassion. No matter what were the merits of the kind of -government which they sought to restore--no man could be cold-blooded -enough to forget that the kingdom of Poland had been violently seized -and partitioned; and though sober reason, and, in fact, good faith, -compelled us to abstain from espousing the cause of those who, by -solemn European treaty, had been confirmed as subjects but who had -risen as rebels, we yet gave our hospitality to the fugitive Poles -with a heartiness greater and more sincere than was ever accorded -on any other occasion. All ranks in this country, and in France, -combined to do them honour; and the general wish in both countries -was, not to afford them a mere temporary shelter, but to give them a -permanent habitation. For this purpose, and to fit them for industrial -employment, the British government gave an annual grant of money, and -the private subscriptions were munificent. Some of the exiles most -creditably availed themselves of the means so placed within their -reach, and have become amongst us useful and esteemed citizens. But -there were others, and the larger number, who utterly misinterpreted -this sympathy, and never would abandon their dreams of Polish -restoration. For this we cannot blame them; and we must needs allow -that they received much encouragement to persevere in those dreams from -men who ought to have been wiser. They took undue advantage of their -situation, and preferred living in idleness, though certainly not in -affluence, upon eleemosynary aid, to gaining their bread honourably by -active industry and exertion. This was certainly not the best way of -securing the affection of a practical people like the British to them -and to their cause; and the result has been, that the moral prestige -of the Poles has greatly declined in this country. We are not arguing -from inference, but from facts; for we are perfectly certain that if -the Emperor Nicholas had made his visit to London in 1834, instead of -nine or ten years later, his reception by the public would have been -materially different. Since then, the Poles have altogether forfeited -the esteem of the friends of order, by coming forward as the most -active agents and instigators of revolution all over the continent of -Europe. In France, in Italy, in Germany, and above all, in Hungary, -they have thrust themselves forward in quarrels with which they had -nothing to do, and even have violated that hospitality which was -accorded them on account of their misfortunes. It is time that they -should learn that the British public has no sympathy with unprincipled -condottieri. No amount of tyranny, inflicted by one nation, will -entitle an exile deliberately to arm himself against the constitution -of another. Foreign service--manly open service indeed is honourable, -but foreign conspiracy is, beyond all doubt, one of the basest and the -worst of crimes. Now, we are not versed enough in treaties to know -what are the exact terms of the conditions made between Russia and -Turkey. We hope, for the sake of Bem, Dembinski, and the others, that -they merely apply to the surrender of those who shall take refuge in -the neighbouring territory on account of war waged, or revolt raised, -against their sovereigns; and though, should such be the nature of the -contract, there may still be a doubt whether the Poles are entitled -to plead exemption under it, that doubt, we presume, will be given in -their favour by the sheltering power; at all events, we think it very -unlikely that any distinction will be drawn betwixt the two classes of -refugees. Still we are compelled to maintain our honest and sincere -conviction that, apart from other and greater considerations, there is -nothing in this demand of Russia and Austria, to justify us in active -interference. The demand has not been made on us; it does not refer to -British subjects; and it in no way concerns our honour. We have nothing -more to do with it, in the abstract, than if it was a demand made by -the Shah of Persia upon the Emperor of China. We beg especial attention -to this point, because we observe that some of our journalists assume -that Great Britain _and France_ will act together vigorously in -resisting the demand. Now, we hold, that, though both countries may -have a clear right to protest against such a demand, on the ground of -its being at variance with the law of nations, neither of them has the -right to make that a pretext for ulterior measures, or for resorting -to the desperate expedient of a war. The representatives of both -powers, it is said, have advised the Porte to return a firm refusal -to the demand; and, since their advice was asked, we hold that they -were clearly right in doing so. They were acting merely as assessors, -or rather as expounders of international law. But suppose that Russia -should make this declinature a _casus belli_ with Turkey,--what then? -We have in that case a most decided interest; because it is part of our -policy that Russia shall not, under any pretext whatever, lay her hand -upon the Turkish dominions, or force the passage of the Dardanelles. -Our policy may be wrong, and Mr Cobden thinks, or thought so: still we -are committed to that view; and we can hardly escape from interpreting -the conduct of Russia, if she shall persist in enforcing her demand by -dint of arms, into an overt attempt to get possession of the Turkish -territory. But France has no such interest as we have. Our reason for -disputing the possession of Turkey with Russia is a purely selfish -one. We wish to prevent the latter power from coming into dangerous -proximity with Egypt, and we have a kind of vague idea that some attack -is meditated upon our Indian provinces. It is quite possible that these -notions may be visionary or greatly exaggerated, and that Russia wants -nothing more than an open passage from the Black Sea--a right which, -if free-trade doctrines are to be held of universal application, it -does seem rather hard to deny to her. Still, such is our idea, and in -our present temper we shall probably act accordingly. But France has -no real interest at stake. She has nothing to lose, suppose Russia got -possession of Turkey to-morrow; and we are very much mistaken if she -will go to war from a mere spirit of chivalry, and in behalf of a few -refugees with whom she is in no way connected. However disturbed may -be the state of France, or however inflammable may be the minds of her -population, she has statesmen who will not suffer her to be committed -to so egregious an act of folly. If Russia perseveres in her demand to -the utmost, on Britain will fall, in the first instance at least, the -whole weight of the resistance. We agree with the _Times_, that "this -demand for the surrender of the refugees, is either a wanton outrage -for an object too trifling to be insisted on, or else it masks a more -serious intention of hostility against the Turkish empire;" but we are -not prepared to adopt the conclusion of that able journal, that "the -governments and the nations of Western Europe are resolved to oppose -that demand, even to the last extremity." On the contrary, we believe -that the opposition would be left to Great Britain alone. - -We trust no apology is necessary for having wandered from our text on -a topic of so much interest; however, we ask Mr Cobden's pardon for -having left him uncourteously so long. - -We were remarking that ill-luck in the way of prophecy and presentiment -still clung to Mr Cobden, even as Care is said to follow the horseman. -Hungary speedily succumbed, and Russia did not ask for a loan. Now -that the Hungarians were beaten and victory impossible, we presume -the next best thing for that unfortunate people would be to bind up -their wounds, and let them return as speedily as might be to their -usual industrial employments. Austria, at the conclusion of the -contest, finds herself largely out of pocket. She has troops whose -pay is greatly in arrear, and she has made temporary loans which -it is absolutely necessary to discharge. She might, if she were so -disposed, liquidate the claims of the first, by letting them loose -upon the conquered Hungarians, from whom they probably could still -contrive to exact a fair modicum of booty; she might pay off the -latter by resorting to wholesale confiscation, and by sweeping into -her public treasury whatever the war has left of value. But Austria -has no desire to proceed to either extremity. She knows very well that -it is not for her interest that Hungary should become a sterile waste; -and she is further aware that the best mode of securing tranquillity -for the future, is to foster industry, and to abstain from laying any -additional burden upon the already impoverished people. Therefore, -meditating no further conquest, but, on the contrary, anxious to sit -down to the sober work of reparation, Austria proposes to borrow -in the public money-markets of Europe a sum of seven millions. The -advertisement meets the eye of Mr Cobden, who straightway rose in -wrath, indited a letter to a certain Mr Edmund Fry, ordaining him to -convene a public meeting in London, for the purpose of considering -the said advertisement, and agreeing "to an address to the friends of -peace and disarmament throughout the world, on the general question of -loans for war purposes," and on the 8th October, the intrepid orator -again mounted on the platform. This time, we are sorry to remark, that -the meeting was neither so variously nor so interestingly attended -as before. The Chartists very properly thought that they had nothing -whatever to do with foreign loans; and, besides, that they had already -been regaled with an ample allowance of Mr Cobden's eloquence on the -subject. The two parliamentary poets were doubtless writing odes, and -did not come. Also there was but a poor sprinkling of M.P.'s; but Lord -Dudley Stuart was at his post, and Friend Alexander; and beyond these -twain there appeared no notable whomsoever. Mr Reynolds must have been -sadly missed. - -Mr Cobden's first speech at this meeting--for the lack of orators was -such, that he was compelled to indulge his audience with two--was -a very dull and dreary affair indeed. He began first with loans in -general, and went on in his usual style of asseveration. "I say that, -as I have gone through the length and breadth of this country with Adam -Smith in my hand to advocate the principles of free trade, I can stand -here with Adam Smith also in my hand, to denounce, not merely for its -inherent waste of national wealth, not only because it anticipates -income and consumes capital, but also on the ground of injustice to -posterity, in saddling upon our heirs a debt we have no right to call -upon them to pay--the loans we have this day met to consider." It is -very hard that unfortunate Adam Smith should be made answerable for -all the eccentricities of Mr Cobden. Little did the poor man think, -whilst hammering his brains at Kirkcaldy, that their product was to -be explained at a future time, according to the sweet will of so -accomplished a commentator! Adam Smith had a great deal too much sense -to expect that wars would cease to arise, and government loans to be -contracted. His remark is not directed against loans, but against the -funding or accumulation of them, which most of us, in the present -generation, are quite ready to admit to be all evil. The remedy to -which he pointed, was the establishment of a sinking-fund to prevent -debt from accumulating; but so long as Mr Cobden's economical views are -acted on, and the currency maintained on its present basis, the idea -of a sinking-fund is altogether visionary. The evil which Adam Smith -complains of is permanent funding, not loan. There is nothing imprudent -in a man borrowing a thousand pounds from his banker, if he regularly -sets apart an annual sum out of his income for its repayment: but it is -a very different thing when he hands over the debt undiminished for his -successor to discharge. - -Having preluded with this little piece of hocus, Mr Cobden came to -the point, and attempted to show that Austria was in such a state of -insolvency that it was not safe for any one to lend money to her. We -by no means object to this sort of exposition. If it be true that the -finances of the borrowing party are in a dismal state, we are none the -worse for the information; if the statement is false, it is sure to be -speedily disproved. We have no objection to concede to Mr Cobden the -possession of that almost preternatural amount of knowledge, which is -his daily and perpetual boast. When he tells us that he knows all about -the produce of the mines of Siberia, because "I have been there, and I -know what is the value of those mines"--when he speaks positively as to -the amount of specie in the vaults of the fortress of St Petersburg, -and states that he knows it--"because I have been on the spot, and -made it my business to understand these things"--and when, with regard -to the general question of Russian finance, he observes that "few -men, probably not six men in England, have had my opportunities of -investigating and ascertaining upon the best and safest authority on -the spot, where alone you can properly understand the matter, what -actually is the state of the resources of Russia,"--we listen with -a kind of awe to the words of this egotistical Exile of Siberia. -But though not six men in England are qualified to compete with him -in his knowledge of Russian affairs, we suspect that it would be no -difficult matter to find six clerks in a single banking establishment -a great deal better acquainted with the state of Austrian finance than -Mr Cobden. His object, it would appear, is less to warn the great -capitalists--who indeed may be supposed to be perfectly capable of -taking care of themselves--against the danger of handing over their -money to Austria, than to secure the poor labouring man with ten pounds -to spare, against defraudment. We were not previously aware that people -with ten pounds to spare were in the habit of investing them in the -foreign funds. We hope to heaven such is not the case, for we happen to -be acquainted with several very estimable porters and Celtic chairmen, -who have saved a little money; and, should the mania for foreign -investment have reached them, we should tremble to approach any corner -of a street where those excellent creatures are wont to linger, lest -we should be assailed with the question, "Hoo's the Peroovian four per -cents?" or, "Div ye ken if they're gaun to pay the interest on the New -Bonos Areas bonds?" We have hitherto been labouring under the delusion -that the accumulations of the working classes were safe in the British -Savings Banks, or Funds; but we are now sorry to learn from Mr Cobden -that such is not the case. "I knew myself," said Mr Cobden, "many years -ago, when resident in the city, a man who worked as a porter on weekly -wages--his family and himself being reduced to that state that they -had no other earthly dependence--and yet that man had Spanish bonds -to the nominal amount of £2000 in his pocket. They were not worth -more than waste paper, and came into the hands of poor men like this -porter, who had no experience and knowledge in such matters; and it -is to guard such poor men that I now utter the voice of warning." We -have not read anything more affecting since we perused _The Dairyman's -Daughter_. Mr Cobden does not tell us that he immediately organised a -subscription for the behoof of the wronged individual; but we think it -probable that he did so, and, if it be not too late, we shall be glad -to contribute our mite--on one condition. The next time Mr Cobden tells -this story, will he be good enough to specify the precise sum _which -the porter paid_ for those bonds? Our reason for requiring particular -information as to this point, is founded on a fact which lately came -to our knowledge, viz. that the name of a promising chimney-sweep -stands recorded in the books of a certain railway company, which shall -be nameless, as the proprietor of stock in new shares, to an amount -of nearly double that possessed by Mr Cobden's acquaintance. The -railway has not paid a single farthing of dividend, several calls are -still due, and the market price of those shares is considerably below -zero. The chimney-sweep is a steady young man, whose only failing is -an inveterate attachment to whisky: he never was in possession of -five pounds in his life, except on the day when he became the nominal -proprietor of that stock. We make Mr Cobden a present of this anecdote, -in case he should have occasion, in the course of some future crusade, -to warn labouring people against indulging in railway speculation. It -is quite as genuine and forcible an illustration as his own; and we -suspect that for one person in the position of the porter, there are at -this moment some hundreds in possession of transferred certificates, -like the chimney-sweep. - -In sober sadness, it is pitiable to see a man reduced, for sheer lack -of argument, to such wretched clap-trap as this. The wildest kind of -rant about freedom and tyranny would have been more to the purpose, -and infinitely more grateful to the popular ear. Mr Cobden's estimate -of his own position and European importance is delicious. "I have no -hesitation in saying that there is not a government in Europe that is -not frowning upon this meeting!" What a mercy it is that Nicholas had -no suspicion of the tremendous influence of the man who was once rash -enough to trust himself in his dominions! We positively tremble at the -thought of what might have ensued had Mr Cobden been detected on his -visit to the Siberian mines! The governments of Europe frowning on Mr -Cobden's meeting--what a subject for the classical painter! - -We need hardly trouble our readers with any remarks upon the speech -of Lord Dudley Stuart. His monomania on Continental subjects is well -known, and he carries it so far as to hazard the most extravagant -statements. For example, he set out with insinuating that this Austrian -loan was neither more nor less than a deliberate attempt at swindling, -seeing that it had not received the sanction of the Diet; "and, -consequently," said Lord Dudley, "nothing could be easier than for the -Austrian government, whenever they found it inconvenient to pay the -interest of the loan, to turn round and call those who had advanced -the money very simple people, and tell them that they ought to have -made due inquiry before parting with it. It might be said that this -would be a most extraordinary and outrageous course for any government -to adopt; but they lived in times when monarchs performed acts of the -most unusual and the most outrageous description; and it seemed almost -as if the dark ages had returned, such scenes of barbarity and cruelty -were being enacted throughout Europe, by order, and in the name of -established governments." Lord Dudley Stuart is one of those who think -that no crowned head can sit down comfortably to supper, unless he has -previously immolated a victim. His idea of the dark ages is derived -from the popular legend of Raw-head and Bloody-bones. Confiding, and it -would appear with justice, in the singular ignorance of his audience, -he went on to say:--"Certain writers and speakers were never tired of -uttering warnings against the danger of an infuriated mob. But had any -of those popular outbreaks, as they were called, ever been attended -with an amount of cruelty, rapine, and spoliation, to be named in -comparison with the deeds of the despots of Europe? At Paris, Vienna, -and Rome, for a time, power was in the hands of the people--the wild -democracy, as it was called. Where were their deeds of blood and -spoliation?" Lord Dudley Stuart might just as well have asked, where -were the victims of the guillotine during the supremacy of Robespierre. -We have known metaphysicians who could not be brought to an -acknowledgment that the continent of America has an actual existence, -or that the battle of Waterloo was ever fought, owing to what they were -pleased to style a want of sufficient evidence. Lord Dudley Stuart is -precisely in the same situation. He has patronised foreign patriots -to such an extent, that he believes every one of them to be a saint; -and if he saw with his own eyes a democrat piking a proprietor, he -would probably consider it a mere _deceptio visus_. Not that he is in -the slightest degree short-sighted, or incredulous, whenever he can -get hold of a story reflecting on the other side. On the contrary, he -favoured his audience with a minute description of several floggings -and executions, which he had, no doubt, received from his foreign -correspondents; and actually threw the blame of the apostacy of some of -his Polish protegees from the Christian faith upon the Czar! This is a -topic upon which we would rather not touch. Men have been known to deny -their Saviour for the sake of escaping from the most hideous personal -agony, but we never heard before of apostacy committed for such motives -as Lord Dudley has assigned. "Some, but very few men, whose lives had -been devoted to fighting against Russia, and whose religion seemed to -consist in that alone, lured, no doubt, by the hope of entering the -Turkish army, and again waging war against their implacable enemies, -Russia and Austria, had been induced to accept the offers of the Porte, -and to embrace Islamism." We hope it may be long before we shall be -again asked to express our sympathy for those wretched renegades from -their faith. - -Mr Cobden having gathered wind, again started up; and this time he did -not confine himself to mere economical prose. We rather think that he -felt slightly jealous of the cheering which Lord Dudley Stuart's more -animated speech had elicited; for it is a well-known fact that the -majority of people would rather listen to the details of an atrocious -murder, than to a dissertation upon Adam Smith. Accordingly he came out -hot, furious, pugnacious, and withal remarkably irrelevant. Throwing -aside all consideration of the Austrian loan, he fell foul of the -Czar, whom he facetiously compared to Nebuchadnezzar. Listen to the -Apostle of peace! "The man was incapable of appreciating anything -but a physical-force argument, and he (Mr Cobden) did not think he -was departing from his peace principles, in resorting to a mode of -admonition which the nature of the animal was capable of understanding. -He surely might be excused from admonishing, if it were possible, a -wild bull, that, if he did not take care, he might run his head against -something harder even than his own skull. He therefore said, that if -the Emperor of Russia attacked us, we might hermetically seal the ports -of Russia, and there would be an end of the matter. There could be -no fighting between England and Russia. If the question were put to -a jury of twelve competent men, belonging to any maritime power, who -were perfectly indifferent to the quarrel, they would at once say that -as England and Russia could not come to collision by land, the only -question was, what naval force would be required by England to blockade -Petersburg, Archangel, Odessa and Riga for six months of the year, and -that the frost would keep up the blockade for the other six months." -But the best is yet to come. Mr Cobden is perfectly aware that the -sentiments of such an eminent European personage as himself must have -terrible weight on the Continent. When the Czar reads the report of the -speeches delivered at the London Tavern, he will burst into a paroxysm -of fury, order some hundred serfs to be instantly knouted to death, and -send for the minister of marine. When it is known at Vienna that Cobden -has declared against the Austrian loan, Francis Joseph will gnash his -teeth, and desire Jellachich, Radetsky, and Haynan to concert measures -with his brother emperor for taking vengeance for this unparalleled -affront. What, then, are we to do? Is there no danger to Great Britain -from such a combination? None--for we have a guarantee. A greater than -Nicholas has promised to stand between us and peril. People of Great -Britain! read the following paragraph, and then lie down in security -under the charge of your protecting angel. - -"_If he (Mr Cobden) were told that he ran the risk of provoking these -brutal tyrants to come here and attack this country_, HE WOULD REPLY -THAT HE WAS PREPARED TO TAKE THE RISK UPON HIMSELF OF ALL THAT THEY -COULD DO!" - -After this, we have not another word to say. Yes--one. Before Mr -Cobden's meeting broke up, the Austrian loan had been subscribed for to -more than the required amount. - - - - -THE FRENCH NOVELS OF 1849. - - -During the twelve months that have elapsed since we devoted a sheet -of Maga to a flying glance at French novels and novelists, there has -been a formidable accumulation upon our shelves of the produce of -Paris and Brussels presses. Were their merit as considerable as their -number, the regiment of pink, blue, and yellow octavos and duodecimos -would need a whole magazine to do them justice. As it is, however, a -line a volume would be too much to devote to some of them. The lull -in literature which ensued in France, on the shock of the February -revolution, has been succeeded by a revival of activity. Most of the -old stagers have resumed the quill, and a few "green hands" have -come forward. As yet, however, the efforts of the former have in few -instances been particularly happy; whilst amongst the latter, there -is no appearance worthy of note. Upon the whole, we think that the -ladies have been at least as successful as the men. Here is a trio of -tales from feminine pens, as good as anything that now lies before us. -_Hélène_, although it may not greatly augment the well-established -reputation of that accomplished authoress, Madame Charles Reybaud, -is yet a very pleasing novel, approaching in character rather to a -graceful English moral tale, than to the commonly received idea of a -French romance. It is a story of the first Revolution; the scene is in -Provence, and subsequently at Rochefort, on board ship, and in French -Guiana. The chief characters are Helen, and her father, the Count do -Blanquefort, a steadfast royalist, who traces back his ancestry to the -crusades; her lover, a plebeian and _Montagnard_; her godmother, Madame -do Rocabert, and Dom Massiot, a fanatic priest. Lovers of mysterious -intrigues, and complicated plots, need not seek them in Madame -Reybaud's novels, whose charm resides for the most part in elegance of -style, graceful description, and delicate and truthful delineation of -character. In one of her recent tales--a very attractive, if not a very -probable one--_Le Cadet de Colobrières_, she admirably sketches the -interior of a poor nobleman's dwelling, where all was pride, penury, -and privation, for appearance sake. The companion and contrast to that -painful picture, is her description of the domestic arrangements of -Castle Rocabert, where ease, placidity, and comfort reign; where the -ancient furniture is solid and handsome, the apartments commodious, -the cheer abundant; where the antiquated waiting women, and venerable -serving men, are clad after the most approved fashion of Louis the -Fifteenth's day, and disciplined in accordance with the most precious -traditions of aristocratic houses. Madame de Rocabert herself is a -fine portrait, from the old French régime. Forty years long has she -dwelt in her lonely chateau, isolated from the world, on the summit -of a cloud-capped rock. Widowed at the age of twenty of an adored -husband, she shut herself up to weep, and, as she hoped, to die. -Contrary to her expectation, little by little she was comforted; she -lived, she grew old. Time and religion had appeased her sorrow, and -dried her tears. There is a tenderness and grace in Madame Reybaud's -account of the widow's mourning and consolation, which reminds us of -the exquisite pathos and natural touches of Madame d'Arbouville. That -such a comparison should occur to us, is of itself a high compliment to -Madame Reybaud, who, however, is unquestionably a very talented writer, -and to the examination of whose collective works it is not impossible -we may hereafter devote an article. At present, we pass on to a lady of -a different stamp, who does not very often obtain commendation at our -hands; and yet, in this instance, we know not why we should withhold -approval from George Sand's last novel, _La Petite Fadette_, one of -those seductive trifles which only Madame Dudevant can produce, and -is free from the pernicious tendencies that disfigure too many of her -works. In this place we can say little about it. A sketch of the plot -would be of small interest, for it is as slight and inartificial -as well may be; and an attempt to analyse the book's peculiar charm -would lead us a length incompatible with the omnium-gatherum design -of this article. _La Petite Fadette_ is a story of peasant habits and -superstitions, and these are treated with that consummate artistical -skill for which George Sand is celebrated--every coarser tint of the -picture mellowed and softened, but never wholly suppressed. Fadette, a -precocious and clever child, and her brother, a poor deformed cripple, -dwelt with their grandmother, a beldame cunning in herbs and simples, -and who practises as a sort of quack doctress. The three are of no good -repute in the country-side; Fadette, especially, with her large black -eyes and Moorish complexion, her elf-like bearing and old-fashioned -attire, is alternately feared and persecuted by the village children, -who have nicknamed her the Cricket. But although her tongue is sharp, -and often malicious, and her humour wilful and strange, the gipsy has -both heart and head; and, above all, she has the true woman's skill -to make herself beloved by him on whom she has secretly fixed her -affections. This is the hero of the story--Landry, the handsome son -of a farmer. Love works miracles with the spiteful slovenly Cricket, -who hitherto has dressed like her grandmother, and squabbled with -all comers. Although the style of George Sand's books is little -favourable to extract, and that in this one the difficulty is increased -by the introduction of provincialisms and peasant phrases, we will -nevertheless translate the account of Fadette's transformation, and of -its effect upon Landry, upon whom, as the reader will perceive, the -charm has already begun to work. - -"Sunday came at last, and Landry was one of the first at mass. He -entered the church before the bells began to ring, knowing that _la -petite_ Fadette was accustomed to come early, because she always made -long prayers, for which many laughed at her. He saw a little girl -kneeling in the chapel of the Holy Virgin, but her back was turned -to him, and her face was hidden in her hands, that she might pray -without disturbance. It was Fadette's attitude, but it was neither -her head-dress nor her figure, and Landry went out again to see if he -could not meet her in the porch, which, in our country, we call the -_guenillière_, because the ragged beggars stand there during service. -But Fadette's rags were the only ones he could not see there. He heard -mass without perceiving her, until, chancing to look again at the girl -who was praying so devoutly in the chapel, he saw her raise her head, -and recognised his Cricket, although her dress and appearance were -quite new to him. The clothes were still the same--her petticoat of -drugget, her red apron, and her linen coif without lace; but during -the week she had washed and re-cut and re-sewn all that. Her gown was -longer, and fell decently over her stockings, which were very white, -as was also her coif, which had assumed the new shape, and was neatly -set upon her well-combed black hair; her neckerchief was new, and of -a pretty pale yellow, which set off her brown skin to advantage. Her -boddice, too, she had lengthened, and, instead of looking like a piece -of wood dressed up, her figure was as slender and supple as the body -of a fine honey-bee. Besides all this, I know not with what extract of -flowers or herbs she had washed her hands and face during the week, but -her pale face and tiny hands looked as clear and as delicate as the -white hawthorn in spring. - -"Landry, seeing her so changed, let his prayer-book fall, and at the -noise little Fadette turned herself about, and her eyes met his. Her -cheek turned a little red--not redder than the wild rose of the hedges; -but that made her appear quite pretty--the more so that her black eyes, -against which none had ever been able to say anything, sparkled so -brightly, that, for the moment, she seemed transfigured. And once more -Landry thought to himself: - -"'She is a witch; she wished to become pretty, from ugly that she was, -and behold the miracle has been wrought!' - -"A chill of terror came over him, but his fear did not prevent his -having so strong a desire to approach and speak to her, that his heart -throbbed with impatience till the mass was at an end. - -"But she did not look at him again, and instead of going to run and -sport with the children after her prayers, she departed so discreetly, -that there was hardly time to notice how changed and improved she was. -Landry dared not follow her, the less so that Sylvinet would not leave -him a moment; but in about an hour he succeeded in escaping; and this -time, his heart urging and directing him, he found little Fadette -gravely tending her flock in the hollow road which they call the -_Traine-au-Gendarme_, because one of the king's gendarmes was killed -there by the people of La Cosse, in the old times, when they wished to -force poor people to pay taillage, and to work without wage, contrary -to the terms of the law, which already was hard enough, such as they -had made it." - -But it is not sufficient to win Landry's heart: Fadette has much more -to overcome. Public prejudice, the dislike of her lover's family, her -own poverty, are stumbling-blocks, seemingly insurmountable, in her -path to happiness. She yields not to discouragement; and finally, by -her energy and discretion, she conquers antipathies, converts foes into -friends, and attains her ends--all of which are legitimate, and some -highly praiseworthy. The narrative of her tribulations, constancy, -and ultimate triumph, is couched in a style of studied simplicity, -but remarkable fascination. Slight as it is, a mere _bluette_, _La -Petite Fadette_ is a graceful and very engaging story; and it would be -ungrateful to investigate too closely the amount of varnish applied by -Madame Dudevant to her pictures of the manners, language, and morals of -French peasantry. - -_La Famille Récour_ is the last book, by a lady novelist, to which -we shall now refer. It is the best of a series of six, intended as -pictures of French society, in successive centuries, closing with the -nineteenth. The five previous novels, which were published at pretty -long intervals, being of no very striking merit, we were agreeably -surprised by the lively and well-sustained interest of this romance, -the last, Madame de Bawr informs us, which she intends to offer to the -public. Paul Récour, the penniless nephew of a rich capitalist, is -defrauded by a forged will of his uncle's inheritance, which goes to a -worthless cousin, who also obtains the hand of a girl between whom and -Paul an ardent attachment exists. The chief interest of the tale hinges -on Paul's struggles, after an interval of deep despondency, against -poverty and the world--struggles in which he is warmly encouraged by -his friend Alfred, a successful _feuilletoniste_ and dramatic author; -and by a warmhearted but improvident physician, M. Duvernoy, whose -daughter Paul ultimately marries, out of gratitude, and to save her -from the destitution to which her father's extravagance and approaching -death are about to consign her. Paul is a charming character--a model -of amiability, generosity, and self-devotion, and yet not too perfect -to be probable. There is a strong interest in the account of his -combat with adversity, and of the tribulations arising from the folly -and thoughtlessness of his wife, and the implacable hostility of his -treacherous cousin. How the story ends need not here be told. The first -four-fifths of the book entitle it to a high place amongst the French -light literature of the year 1849; but then it begins to flag, and the -termination is lame and tame--a falling off which strikes the more -from its contrast with the preceding portion. The authoress appears, -in some degree, conscious of this defect, and prepares her readers -for it in her preface. "The second volume," she says, "was written -amidst the anguish and alarm which revolutions occasion to a poor old -woman. Although but ill-satisfied with my work, I have not courage to -recommence it. I appeal, then, to the reader's indulgence for my last -romance, happy in the consciousness that my pen has never traced a -single word which was not dictated by my lively desire to lead men to -virtue." So humble and amiable an apology disarms criticism. - -Having given precedence to the ladies, we look around for some of their -male colleagues who may deserve a word. Amongst the new candidates for -the favour of romance-readers is a writer, signing himself Marquis -de Foudras, and whose debut, if we err not, was made in conjunction -with a M. de Montepin, in a romance entitled _Les Chévaliers du -Lansquenet_--a long-winded imitation of the Sue school, extremely -feeble, and in execrable taste, but which, nevertheless, obtained -a sort of circulating library success. Encouraged by this, Messrs -Foudras and Montepin achieved a second novel, upon the whole a shade -better than the first; and then, dissolving their association, set -off scribbling, each "on his own hook;" and threaten to become as -prolific, although not as popular, as the great Dumas himself. The -last production of M. de Foudras bears the not unattractive title of -_Les Gentilhommes Chasseurs_. It is a series of sporting sketches and -anecdotes, of various merit, in most of which the author--who would -evidently convince us that he is a genuine marquis, and not a plebeian -under a pseudonyme--himself has cut a more or less distinguished -figure. To the curious in the science of venery, as practised in -various parts of France, these two volumes may have some interest; -and the closing and longest sketch of the series, a tale of shooting -and smuggling adventures in the Alps, is, we suspect, the best thing -the author has written. Unless, indeed, we except his account of a -stag-hunt in Burgundy in 1785, in which he gives a most animated and -graphic account of the mishaps of a dull-dog of an Englishman, who -arrives from the further extremity of Italy to join the party of French -sportsmen. Of course Lord Henry is formal, peevish, and unpolished; -the very model, in short, of an English nobleman. Disdaining to mount -French horses, which, he politely informs his entertainer, have no -speed, and cannot leap, he has had four hunters brought from England, -upon one of which, "a lineal descendant of _Arabian Godolphin_, and -whose dam was a mare unconquered at Newmarket," he follows the first -day's hunt, by the side of a beautiful countess, by whose charms he is -violently smitten, and who rides a little old Limousin mare, of piteous -exterior, but great merit. The pace is severe, the country heavy, -the Arabian's grandson receives the go-by from the Limousin cob, and -shows signs of distress. The following passage exhibits the author's -extraordinary acquaintance with the customs and usages of the English -hunting-field,--"We were still a-head, and had leaped I know not how -many hedges, ditches, and _ravines_, when I observed that Lord Henry, -_who had refused to take either a whip or spurs_, struck repeated -blows on the flank of his horse, which, still galloping, writhed under -the pressure of its master's fist. Looking with more attention, I -presently discovered in _milord's_ hand a sharp and glittering object, -in which I recognised _one of the elegant chased gold toothpicks_ which -men carried in those days. I saw at once that poor _Coeur-de-Lion_ -was done up." In spite of the toothpick, _Coeur-de-Lion_ refuses a -leap, whereupon his master hurls away the singular spur, leaps from -his saddle, draws his hunting-knife, and plunges it to the hilt in -the horse's breast!--with which taste of his quality, we bid a long -farewell to the Marquis de Foudras. - -It were strange indeed if the name of Dumas did not more than -once appear on the numerous title-pages before us. We find it in -half-a-dozen different places. The amusing Charlatan, who, in the -first fervour and novelty of the republican regime, seemed disposed -to abandon romance for politics, has found time to unite both. Whilst -writing a monthly journal, in which he professes to give the detailed -history of Europe day by day--forming, as his puffs assure us, the -most complete existing narrative of political events since February -1848--he has also produced, in the course of the last twelve months, -some twenty-five or thirty volumes of frivolities. Thus, whilst with -one hand he instructs, with the other he entertains the public. For -our part, we have enjoyed too many hearty laughs, both with and at -M. Dumas, not to have all inclination to praise him when possible. -In the present instance, and with respect to his last year's tribute -to French literature, we regret to say it is quite impossible. He -has been trifling with his reputation, and with the public patience. -Since last we mentioned him, he has added a dozen volumes to the -_Vicomte de Bragelonne_, which nevertheless still drags itself along, -without prospect of a termination. A tissue of greater improbabilities -and absurdities we have rarely encountered. Certainly no one but -Alexander Dumas would have ventured to strain out so flimsy a web -to so unconscionable a length. Are there, we wonder, in France or -elsewhere, any persons so simple as to rely on his representations -of historical characters and events? The notions they must form of -French kings and heroes, courtiers and statesmen, are assuredly of -the strangest. We doubt if, in any country but France, a writer -could preserve the popularity Dumas enjoys, who caricatured and made -ridiculous, as he continually does, the greatest men whose names honour -its chronicles. Besides the wearisome adventures of Mr Bragelonne and -the eternal Musketeers, M. Dumas has given forth the first three or -four volumes of a rambling story, founded on the well-known affair -of Marie Antoinette's diamond necklace. Then he has completed the -account of his Spanish rambles, which we rather expected he would have -left incomplete, seeing the very small degree of favour with which -the first instalment of those most trivial letters was received. In -the intervals of these various labours, he has thrown off a history -of the regency, and a historical romance, of which Edward III. of -England is the hero. The latter we have not read. On French ground, -M. Dumas is sometimes unsuccessful, but when he meddles with English -personages he is invariably absurd. Finally, and we believe this closes -the catalogue--although we will not answer but that some trifle of -half-a-dozen volumes may have escaped our notice--M. Dumas, gliding, -with his usual facility of transition, from the historical to the -speculative, has begun a series of ghost-stories, whose probable length -it is difficult to foretell, seeing that what he calls the introduction -occupies two volumes. Some of these tales are tolerably original, -others are old stories dressed up _à la Dumas_. They are preceded by -a dedication to M. Dumas' former patron, the Duke of Montpensier, and -by a letter to his friend Véron, editor of the _Constitutionnel_, -theatrical manager, &c. These two epistles are by no means the least -diverting part of the book. M. Dumas, whom we heard of, twenty months -ago, as a fervid partisan and armed supporter of the republic, appears -to have already changed his mind, and to hanker after a monarchy. -Some passages of his letter to his friend are amusingly conceited and -characteristic. "My dear Véron," he writes, "you have often told me, -during those evening meetings, now of too rare occurrence, where each -man talks at leisure, telling the dream of his heart, following the -caprice of his wit, or squandering the treasures of his memory--you -have often told me, that, since Scheherazade, and after Nodier, I am -one of the most amusing narrators you know. To-day you write to me -that, _en attendant_ a long romance from my pen--one of my interminable -romances, in which I comprise a whole century--you would be glad of -some tales, two, four, or six volumes at most--poor flowers from my -garden--to serve as an interlude amidst the political preoccupations -of the moment: between the trials at Bourges, for instance, and the -elections of the month of May. Alas! my friend, the times are sad, -and my tales, I warn you, will not be gay. Weary of what I daily see -occurring in the real world, you must allow me to seek the subjects -of my narratives in an imaginary one. Alas! I greatly fear that all -minds somewhat elevated, somewhat poetical and addicted to reverie, -are now situated similarly to mine; in quest--that is to say, of the -ideal--sole refuge left us by God against reality." After striking -this desponding chord, the melancholy poet of elevated mind proceeds -to regret the good old times, to deplore the degeneracy of the age, -to declare himself inferior to his grandfather, and to express his -conviction that his son will be inferior to himself. We are sorry for -M. Dumas, junior. "It is true," continues Alexander, "that each day we -take a step towards liberty, equality, fraternity, three great words -which the Revolution of 1793--you know, the other, the dowager--let -loose upon modern society as she might have done a tiger, a lion, and -a bear, disguised in lambskins; empty words, unfortunately, which -were read, through the smoke of June, on our public monuments all -battered with bullets." After so reactionary a tirade, let M. Dumas -beware lest, in the first fight that occurs in Paris streets, a -Red cartridge snatch him from an admiring world. His moan made for -republican illusions, he proceeds to cry the coronach over French -society, unhinged, disorganised, destroyed, by successive revolutions. -And he calls to mind a visit he paid, in his childhood, to a very old -lady, a relic of the past century, and widow of King Louis Philippe's -grandfather, to whom Napoleon paid an annuity of one hundred thousand -crowns--for what? "_For having preserved in her drawing-rooms the -traditions of good society of the times of Louis XIV. and Louis XV._ -It is just half what the chamber now gives his nephew for making -France forget what his uncle desired she should remember." Take that, -President Buonaparte, and go elsewhere for a character than to the -_Débit de Romans_ of Mr Alexander Dumas. How is it you have neglected -to propitiate the suffrage of the melancholy poet? Repair forthwith the -omission. Summon him to the Elysée. Pamper, caress, and consult him, -or tremble for the stability of your presidential chair! After Louis -Napoleon, comes the turn of the legislative chamber; apropos of which -M. Dumas quotes the Marquis d'Argenson's memoirs, where the courtier -of 1750 bewails the degeneracy of the times neither more nor less than -does the dramatic author of a century later. "People complain," M. -d'Argenson says, "that in our day there is no longer any conversation -in France. I well know the reason. It is that our cotemporaries daily -become less patient listeners. They listen badly, or rather they listen -not at all. I have remarked this in the very best circles I frequent." -"Now, my dear friend," argues M. Dumas, with irresistible logic, "what -is the best society one can frequent at the present day? Very certainly -it is that which eight millions of electors have judged worthy to -represent the interests, the opinions, the genius of France. It is the -chamber, in short. Well! enter the chamber, at a venture, any day and -hour that you please. The odds are a hundred to one, that you will find -one man speaking in the tribune, and five or six hundred others sitting -on the benches, not listening, but interrupting him. And this is so -true, that there is an article of the constitution of 1848 prohibiting -interruptions. Again, reckon the number of boxes on the ear, and -fisticuffs given in the chamber during a year that it has existed--they -are innumerable. All in the name--be it well understood--of liberty, -equality, and fraternity!" Rather strange language in the mouth of a -citizen of the young republic; and its oddness diminishes the surprise -with which we find, on turning the page, the captor of the Tuileries -paying his devoirs to the most presently prosperous member of the house -of Orleans. "Monseigneur," he says, to the illustrious husband of the -Infanta Louisa, "this book is composed for you, written purposely for -you. Like all men of elevated minds, you believe in the impossible," -&c. &c. Then a flourish about Galileo, Columbus, and Fulton, and a -quotation from Shakspeare, some of whose plays M. Dumas has been so -condescending as to translate and improve. Then poor Scheherazade is -dragged in again, always apropos of "I, Alexander," and then, the -flourish of trumpets over, the fun begins and phantoms enter. - - * * * * * - -Although not generally partial to tales of _diablerie_--a style which -the Germans have overdone, and in which few writers of other nations -have succeeded--we have been much amused by the story of _Jean le -Trouveur_, in which, upon the old yarn of a pact with the evil one, M. -Paul de Musset has strung a clever and spirited series of Gil-Blas-like -adventures, interspersed with vivid glimpses of historical events and -personages, with here and there a garnishing of quiet satire. "The life -of Jean le Trouveur," says the ingenious and painstaking author of -these three pleasant little volumes, "is one of those histories which -the people tell, and nobody has written.... This fantastical personage -is known in several countries, under different names. In Provence he -is called Jean l'Heureux; in Arragon, Don Juan el Pajarero--that is to -say, the Fowler or Birdcatcher; in Italy Giovanni il Trovatore. His -real name will be found in the course of the following narration. -His death was related to me in Lower Brittany, where I did not -expect to meet with him. This circumstance decided me to write his -history, uniting the various chronicles, whose connexion is evident." -That accomplished antiquarian and legendary, M. Prosper Mérimée, -would doubtless be able to tell us whether this be a mere author's -subterfuge, or a veritable account of the sources whence M. de Musset -derived the amusing adventures of John the Finder. We ourselves are not -sufficiently versed in the traditions of Provence and Italy, Arragon -and Brittany, to decide, nor is it of much interest to inquire. M. de -Musset may possibly have found the clay, but he has made the bricks -and built the house. It is a light and pleasant edifice, and does him -credit. - -The main outline of the story of _Jean le Trouveur_ is soon told, -and has no great novelty. The interest lies in the varied incidents -that crowd every chapter. In the year 1699 there dwelt at Arles, in -Provence, a commander of Malta, by name Anthony Quiqueran, Lord of -Beaujeu. After an adventurous career, and innumerable valiant exploits -achieved in the wars of the Order against Turks and barbarians; after -commanding the galleys of Malta in a hundred successful sea-fights, -and enduring a long captivity in the fortress of the Seven Towers, -this brave man, at the age of nearly eighty years, dwelt tranquilly in -his castle of Beaujeu, reposing, in the enjoyment of perfect health, -from the fatigues of his long and busy life, and awaiting with seeming -resignation and confidence the inevitable summons of death. Only two -peculiarities struck the neighbours of the old knight: one of which -was, that he avoided speaking of his past adventures; the other, that -he would attend mass but at a particular convent, and that even there -he never entered the chapel, but kneeled on a chair in the porch, his -face covered with his hands, until the service was concluded. It was -supposed by many that he was bound by a vow, and that his conduct was -a mark of penitence and humiliation. And although the commander never -went to confession, or the communion table, his life was so pure, his -charities were so numerous, and he had rendered such great services to -the cause of religion, that none ventured to blame his eccentricities -and omissions. But one stormy day a little old Turk, the fashion of -whose garments was a century old, landed from a brigantine, which had -made its way up the Rhone in spite of wind, and, to the wonder of the -assembled population, approached the commander of Malta, and said to -him--"Anthony Quiqueran, you have but three days left to fulfil your -engagements." An hour later, the old knight is in the convent chapel, -assisting at a mass, which he has requested the superior to say for -him. But when the priest takes the sacred wafer it falls from his -hands, a gust of wind extinguishes the tapers, and a confused murmur -of voices is heard in the lateral nave of the church. In spite of -himself, the officiant utters a malediction instead of a prayer, and, -horror-stricken, he descends the steps of the altar, at whose foot M. -de Beaujeu lies senseless, his face against the ground. The ensuing -chapters contain the commander's confession. Long previously, when -languishing in hopeless captivity in a Turkish dungeon, he had made a -compact with a demon, by which he was to enjoy liberty and health, and -thirty years of glory and good fortune. At the end of that term he must -find another person to take his place on similar conditions, or his -soul was the property of the fiend. Scarcely was the bargain concluded, -when he doubted its reality, and was disposed to attribute it to the -delirium of fever. In the uncertainty, he studiously abstained from -the advantage of the compact, hoping thereby to expiate its sin. His -health returned, his liberty was given him, but he sought neither -glory, nor wealth, nor honours, living retired upon ten thousand -crowns a-year, the gift of the King of France and other princes, for -his services to Christendom, practising good works, and cultivating -his garden. He began to hope that this long course of virtue and -self-denial had redeemed his sin, when the warning of the demon, in the -garb of the Turkish captain, renewed his alarm, and the interrupted -mass convinced him of the graceless state of his soul. No act of -penitence, the superior now assured him, could atone his crime. Too -high-minded to seek a substitute, and endeavour to shift its penalty -upon another's shoulders, M. de Beaujeu attempts the only reparation -in his power, by bequeathing half his wealth to charities. To inherit -the other moiety, he entreats the superior to select a foundling -worthy of such good fortune. The superior is not at a loss. "I have -got exactly what you want," he says; "the chorister who answered at -the mass at which you swooned away has no relations. I picked him -up in the street on a winter's night, fourteen years ago, and since -then he has never left me. He has no vocation for the church, and you -will do a good action in restoring him to the world." The chorister -boy, who had been baptised Jean le Trouvé, is sent for, but cannot at -first be found; for the excellent reason that, hidden in the recesses -of the superior's bookcase, behind a row of enormous folios, he had -listened to all that had passed between the commander and the monk. -As soon as he can escape he repairs to the castle of Beaujeu, where -his good looks, his simplicity and vivacity, interest the old knight, -who receives him kindly, resolves to make him his heir, and sends him -back to the convent to announce his determination to the superior. The -foundling is grateful. His joy at his brilliant prospects is damped by -the recollection of the commander's confession and despair. He resolves -to astonish his benefactor by the greatness of his gratitude. The -following extract, which has a good deal of the _Hoffmannsche_ flavour, -will show how he sets about it. - -In the street of La Trouille, which took its name from the fortress -built by the Emperor Constantine, dwelt a barber, who, to follow -the mode of the barbers and bath-keepers of Paris, sold wine and -entertained gamesters. Young men, sailors, merchants, and citizens -of Arles, resorted to his shop--some to transact business; others -to discuss matters of gallantry or pleasure; others, again, to seek -dupes. Of a night, sounds of quarrel were often heard in the shop, to -which the town-archers had more than once paid a visit. If a stranger -staked his coin on a turn of the cards, or throw of the dice, it was no -mere hazard that transferred his ducats to the pockets of the regular -frequenters of the house. Seated upon a post, opposite to this honest -establishment, John the Foundling watched each face that entered or -came out. After some time, he saw approaching from afar the captain of -the brigantine, with his flat turban and his great matchlock pistol. -When the Turk reached the barber's door, John placed himself before him. - -"Sir stranger," said the boy, "did you not arrive here this morning -from the East, on important business which concerns the Commander de -Beaujeu?" - -"_Si_," replied the Turk; "but I may also say that it is business which -concerns you not." - -"You mistake," said John; "it does concern me, and I come on purpose to -speak to you about it." - -"'Tis possible," said the old captain; "_ma mi non voler, mi non poter, -mi non aver tempo_." - -"Nevertheless," firmly retorted John, "you must find time to hear me. -What I have to communicate to you is of the utmost importance." - -"Do me the pleasure _de andar al diable_!" cried the Turk, in his -Franco-Italian jargon. - -"I am there already," replied the lad; "rest assured that I know who -you are. I will not leave you till you have given me a hearing." - -The old Mussulman, who had hitherto averted his head to try to break -off the conversation, at last raised his melancholy and aquiline -countenance. With his yellow eyes he fixed an angry gaze upon the -chorister, and said to him in a full strong voice:-- - -"Well, enter this shop with me. We will presently speak together." - -There was company in the barber's shop of the Rue de la Trouille, when -little John and the captain of the brigantine raised the curtain of -checked linen which served as a door. In a corner of the apartment, -four men, seated round a table, were absorbed in a game at cards, to -which they appeared to pay extreme attention, although the stake was -but of a few miserable sous. One of the gamblers examined, with the -corner of his eye, the two persons who entered; and, seeing it was -only a lad and a Turk of mean and shabby appearance, he again gave all -his attention to the game. The master of the shop conceived no greater -degree of esteem for the new comers, for he did not move from the -stool on which he was sharpening his razors. At the further end of the -apartment a servant stood beside the fire, and stirred with a stick the -dirty linen of the week, which boiled and bubbled in a copper caldron. -A damaged hour-glass upon a board pretended to mark the passage of -time; and small tables, surrounded with straw-bottomed stools, awaited -the drinkers whom evening usually brought. Bidding the chorister to -be seated, the captain of the brigantine placed himself at one of the -tables, and called for wine for all the company. The barber hasted to -fetch a jug of Rhone wine, and as many goblets as there were persons in -the room. When all the glasses were filled, the captain bid the barber -distribute them, and exclaimed, as he emptied his own at a draft.-- - -"_A la salute de Leurs Seigneuries!_" - -Thereupon the four gamblers exchanged significant glances, whispered a -few words, and then, as if the politeness of the Turkish gentleman had -caused them as much pleasure as surprise, they pocketed their stakes -and discontinued their game. With gracious and gallant air, and smiling -countenance, one hand upon the hip and the other armed with the goblet, -the four gentlemen approached the old Turk with a courteous mien, -intended to eclipse all the graces of the courtiers of Versailles. But -there was no need of a magnifying-glass to discern the true character -of the four companions; the adventurer was detectible at once in their -threadbare coats, their collars of false lace, and in the various -details of their dress, where dirt and frippery were ill concealed -by trick and tawdry. A moderately experienced eye would easily have -seen that it was vice which had fattened some of them, and made others -lean. The most portly of the four, approaching the Turkish gentleman, -thanked him in the name of his friends, and placed his empty glass upon -the table with so polite and kindly an air, that the Turk, touched by -his good grace, took the wine jug and refilled the four goblets to -the brim. Some compliments were exchanged, and all sorts of titles -used; so that by the time the jug was empty they had got to calling -each other Excellency. The barber, putting his mouth to the captain's -ear, with such intense gravity that one might have thought him angry, -assured him that these gentlemen were of the very first quality, -whereat the Turk testified his joy by placing his hand on his lips and -on his forehead. In proportion as mutual esteem and good understanding -augmented, the contents of the jug diminished. A second was called for; -it was speedily emptied in honour of the happy chance that had brought -the jovial company together. A third disappeared amidst promises of -frequent future meetings, and a fourth was drained amidst shaking of -hands, friendly embraces, and unlimited offers of service. - -The barber, a man of taste, observed to his guests, that four jugs -amongst five persons made an uneven reckoning, which it would need the -mathematical powers of Barême duly to adjust. For symmetry's sake, -therefore, a fifth jug was brought, out of which the topers drank the -health of the king, of their Amphitryon, and of Barême, so appositely -quoted. The four seedy gentlemen greatly admired the intrepidity with -which the little old man tossed off his bumpers. Their project of -making the captain drunk was too transparent to escape any spectator -less innocent than the chorister; but in vain did they seek signs of -intoxication on the imperturbable countenance of the old Turk. In reply -to each toast and protestation of friendship, the captain emptied his -glass, and said:-- - -"Much obliged, gentlemen; _mi trop flatté_." - -No sparkle of the eyes, no movement of the muscles, broke the monotony -of his faded visage. His parchment complexion preserved its yellow -tint. On the other hand, the cheeks of the four adventurers began to -flush purple; they unbuttoned their doublets, and used their hats as -fans. The signs of intoxication they watched for in their neighbour -were multiplied in their own persons. At last they got quite drunk. He -of the four whose head was the coolest proposed a game at cards. - -"I plainly see," said the Turk, accepting, "that the _Signori n'esser -pas joueurs per habitude_." - -"And how," exclaimed one of the adventurers, "did your excellency infer -from our physiognomy that incontestible truth?" - -"_Perché_," replied the Turk, "on my arrival you broke off in the -middle of your game. A professed gambler never did such a thing." - -They were in ecstasies at the noble foreigner's penetration, and they -called for the dice. When the captain drew forth his long purse, -stuffed with _génovèses_,[21] the four gentlemen experienced a sudden -shock, as if a thunderbolt had passed between them without touching -them, and this emotion half sobered them. The Turk placed one of the -large gold pieces upon the table, saying he would hold whatever stake -his good friends chose to venture. The others said that a _génovèse_ -was a large sum, but that nothing in the world should make them flinch -from the honour of contending with so courteous an adversary. By -uniting their purses, they hoped to be able to hold the whole of his -stake. And accordingly, from the depths of their fobs, the gentlemen -produced so many six-livre and three-livre pieces, that they succeeded -in making up the thirty-two crowns, which were equivalent to the -_génovèse_. They played the sum in a rubber. The Turk won the first -game, then the second; and the four adventurers, on beholding him sweep -away their pile of coin, were suddenly and completely sobered. The -captain willingly agreed to give them their revenge. The difficulty -was to find the two-and-thirty crowns. By dint of rummaging their -pockets, the gentlemen exhibited four-and-twenty livres: but this was -only a quarter of the sum. The oldest of the adventurers then took the -buckle from his hat, and threw it on the table, swearing by the soul -of his uncle that the trinket was worth two hundred livres, although -even the simple chorister discerned the emeralds that adorned it to be -but bits of bottle-glass. Like a generous player, the old Turk made no -difficulties; he agreed that the buckle should stand for two hundred -livres, and it was staked to the extent of twenty-four crowns. This -time the dice was so favourable to the captain, that the game was not -even disputed. His adversaries were astounded: they twisted their -mustaches till they nearly pulled them up by the roots; they rubbed -their eyes, and cursed the good wine of Rhone. In the third game, the -glass jewel, already pledged for twenty-four crowns, passed entire -into the possession of the Turk. Then the excited gamblers threw upon -the table their rings, their sword-knots, and the swords themselves, -assigning to all these things imaginary value, which the Turk feigned -to accept as genuine. Not a single game did they win. The captain took -a string, and proceeded to tie together the tinsel and old iron he had -won, when he felt a hand insinuate itself into the pocket of his ample -hose. He seized this hand, and holding it up in the air-- - -"_Messirs_," he said, "_vous esser des coquins. Mi saper que vous aver -triché._" - -"_Triché!_" cried one of the sharpers. "He strips us to the very shirt, -and then accuses us of cheating! _Morbleu!_ Such insolence demands -punishment." - -A volley of abuse and a storm of blows descended simultaneously upon -the little old man. The four adventurers, thinking to have an easy -bargain of so puny a personage, threw themselves upon him to search -his pockets; but in vain did they ransack every fold of his loose -garments. The purse of gold _génovèses_ was not to be found; and -unfortunately the old Turk, in his struggles, upset the tripod which -supported the copper caldron. A flood of hot water boiled about the -legs of the thieves, who uttered lamentable cries. But it was far -worse when they saw the overturned caldron continue to pour forth its -scalding stream as unceasingly as the allegoric urn of Scamander. -The four sharpers and the barber, perched upon stools, beheld, with -deadly terror, the boiling lake gradually rising around them. Their -situation resembled that in which Homer has placed the valiant and -light-footed Achilles; but as these rogues had not the intrepid soul of -the son of Peleus, they called piteously upon God and all the saints -of paradise; mingling, from the force of habit, not a few imprecations -with their prayers. The wizened carcase of the old Turk must have -been proof against fire and water, for he walked with the streaming -flood up to his knees. Lifting the chorister upon his shoulders, he -issued, dry-footed, from the barber's shop, like Moses from the bosom -of the Red Sea. The river of boiling water waited but his departure to -re-enter its bed. This prodigy suddenly took place, without any one -being able to tell how. The water subsided, and flowed away rapidly, -leaving the various objects in the shop uninjured, with the exception -of the legs of the four adventurers, which were somewhat deteriorated. -The servant, hurrying back at sound of the scuffle, raised the caldron, -and resumed the stirring of her dirty linen, unsuspicious of the -sorcery that had just been practised. The barber and the four sharpers -took counsel together, and deliberated amongst themselves whether it -was proper to denounce the waterproof and incombustible old gentleman -to the authorities. The quantity of hot water that had been spilled -being out of all proportion with the capacity of the kettle, it seemed -a case for hanging or burning alive the author of the infernal jest. -The barber, however, assured his customers that learned physicians -had recently made many marvellous discoveries, in which the old Turk -might possibly be versed. He also deemed it prudent not lightly to put -himself in communication with the authorities, lest they should seek -to inform themselves as to the manner in which the cards were shuffled -in his shop. It was his opinion that the offender should be generously -pardoned, unless, indeed, an opportunity occurred of knocking him on -the head in some dark corner. This opinion met with general approbation. - -Whilst this council of war is held, Jean and the old Turk are in -confabulation, and a bargain is at last concluded, by which the -commander's soul is redeemed, and Jean is to have five years of -earthly prosperity, at the end of which time, if he has failed to find -a substitute, his spiritual part becomes the demon's property. Two -years later we find Jean upon the road to Montpellier, well mounted -and equipped, and his purse well lined. Although but in his eighteenth -year, he is already a gay gallant, with some knowledge of the world, -and eager for adventures. These he meets with in abundance. A mark, -imprinted upon his arm by his attendant demon, causes him to be -recognised as the son of the Chevalier de Cerdagne. Thus ennobled, he -feels that he may aspire to all things, and soon we find him pushing -his fortune in Italy, attached to the person of the French Marshal de -Marchin, discovering the Baron d'Isola's conspiracy against the life -of Philip V. of Spain, and gaining laurels in the campaigns of the -War of Succession. There is much variety and interest in some of his -adventures, and the supernatural agency is sufficiently lost sight -of not to be wearisome. Time glides away, and the fatal term of five -years is within a few days of its completion. But _Jean le Trouvé_, now -_le Trouveur_, is in no want of substitutes. Two volunteers present -themselves; one his supposed sister, Mademoiselle de Cerdagne, whom -he has warmly befriended in certain love difficulties; the other a -convent gardener, whom he has made his private secretary, and whose -name is Giulio Alberoni. The demon, who still affects the form of -an old Turkish sailor, receives Alberoni in lieu of Jean, to whom, -however,--foreseeing that the young man's good fortune may be the means -of bringing him many other victims--he offers a new contract on very -advantageous terms. But Jean de Cerdagne, who is now Spanish ambassador -at Venice, with the title of prince, and in the enjoyment of immense -wealth, refuses the offer, anxious to save his soul. He soon discovers -that his good fortune is at an end. The real son of the Chevalier de -Cerdagne turns up, Jean is disgraced, stripped of his honours and -dignities, and his vast property is confiscated by the Inquisition. -The ex-ambassador exchanges for a squalid disguise his rich costume of -satin and velvet, and we next find him a member of a secret society in -the thieves' quarter of Venice. The worshipful fraternity of Chiodo--so -called from their sign of recognition, which is a rusty nail--live by -the exercise of various small trades and occupations, which, although -not strictly beggary or theft, are but a degree removed from these -culpable resources. Jean, whose conscience has become squeamish, will -accept none but honest employment. But the malice of the demon pursues -him, and he succeeds in nothing. He stations himself at a ferry to -catch gondolas with a boat-hook, and bring them gently alongside the -quay; he stands at a bridge stairs, to afford support to passengers -over the stones, slippery with the slime of the lagoons; he takes post -in front of the Doge's palace, with a vessel of fresh water and a -well-polished goblet, to supply passers-by. Many accept his stout arm, -and drink his cool beverage, but none think of rewarding him. Not all -his efforts and attention are sufficient to coax a sou from the pockets -of his careless customers. At last, upon the third day, he receives a -piece of copper, and trusts that the charm is broken. The coin proves -a bad one. His seizure by the authorities, and transportation to Zara, -relieve him of care for his subsistence. At last, pushed by misery, -and in imminent danger of punishment for having struck a Venetian -officer, Jean succumbs to temptation, and renews his infernal compact. -A Venetian senator adopts him, and he discovers, but too late, that -had he delayed for a few minutes his recourse to diabolical aid, he -would have stood in no need of it. He proceeds to Spain, where he has -many adventures and quarrels with his former secretary, Alberoni, now -a powerful minister. His contract again at an end, he would gladly -abstain from renewing it, but is hunted by the Inquisition into the -arms of the fiend. After a lapse of years, he is again shown to us -in Paris, and, finally, in Brittany, where he meets his death, but, -at the eleventh hour, disappoints the expectant demon, (who in a -manner outwits himself,) and re-enters the bosom of the church, his -bad bargain being taken off his hands by an ambitious village priest. -The book, which has an agreeable vivacity, closes with an attempt to -explain a portion of its supernatural incidents by a reference to -popular tradition and peasant credulity. Near the ramparts of the -Breton town of Guérande, an antiquary shows M. de Musset a moss-grown -stone, with a Latin epitaph, which antiquary and novelist explain each -after his own fashion. - -"Let us see if you understand that, _M. le Parisien_," said the -antiquary. "Up to the two last words we shall agree; but what think you -of the _Ars. Inf._?" - -"It appears to me," I replied, "that the popular chronicle perfectly -explains the whole epitaph--_Ars. Inf._ means _ars inferna_; that is -to say,--'Here reposes Jean Capello, citizen of Venice, whose body was -sent to the grave, and his soul to heaven, by infernal artifices.'" - -"A translation worthy of a romance writer," said the antiquary. "You -believe then in the devil, in compact with evil spirits, in absurd -legends invented by ignorance and superstition amidst the evening -gossip of our peasants? You believe that, in 1718, a parish priest of -Guérande flew away into the air, after having redeemed the soul of this -Jean Capello. You are very credulous, M. le Parisien. This Venetian, -who came here but to die, was simply poisoned by the priest, who took -to flight; the town doctor, having opened the body, found traces of -the poison. That is why they engraved upon the tomb these syllables: -_Ars. Inf._, which signify _arsenici infusio_, an infusion of arsenic. -I will offer you another interpretation--Jean Capello was perhaps a -salt-maker, killed by some accident in our salt-works, and as in 1718 -labourers of that class were very miserable, they engraved upon this -stone, to express the humility of his station, _Ars. Inf._, that is to -say, inferior craft." - -"Upon my word!" I exclaimed, "that explanation is perfectly absurd. -I keep to the popular version: Jean le Trouveur was sent to heaven -by the stratagems of the demon himself. Let sceptics laugh at my -superstition, I shall not quarrel with them for their incredulity." - -We see little else worthy of extract or comment in the mass of books -before us. M. Méry, whose extraordinary notions of English men and -things we exhibited in a former article, has given forth a rhapsodical -history, entitled _Le Transporté_, beginning with the Infernal -Machine, and ending with Surcouf the Pirate, full of conspiracies, -dungeons, desperate sea-fights, and tropical scenery, where English -line-of-battle ships are braved by French corvettes, and where the -transitions are so numerous, and the variety so great, that we may -almost say everything is to be found in its pages, except probability. -Mr Dumas the younger, who follows at respectful distance in his -father's footsteps, and publishes a volume or two per month, has not -yet, so far as we have been able to discover, produced anything that -attains mediocrity. M. Sue has dished up, since last we have adverted -to him, two or three more capital sins, his illustrations of which -are chiefly remarkable for an appearance of great effort, suggestive -of the pitiable plight of an author who, having pledged himself to -public and publishers for the production of a series of novels on -given subjects, is compelled to work out his task, however unwilling -his mood. This is certainly the most fatal species of book-making--a -selling by the cubic foot of a man's soul and imagination. Evil as it -is, the system is largely acted upon in France at the present day. Home -politics having lost much of the absorbing interest they possessed -twelve months ago, the Paris newspapers are resorting to their old -stratagems to maintain and increase their circulation. Prominent -amongst these is the holding out of great attractions in the way of -literary feuilletons. Accordingly, they contract with popular writers -for a name and a date, which are forthwith printed in large capitals -at the head of their leading columns. Thus, one journal promises its -readers six volumes by M. Dumas, to be published in its feuilleton, to -commence on a day named, and to be entitled _Les Femmes_. The odds are -heavy, that Alexander himself has not the least idea what the said six -volumes are to be about; but he relies on his fertility, and then so -vague and comprehensive a title gives large latitude. Moreover, he has -time before him, although he has promised in the interval to supply -the same newspaper with a single volume, to be called _Un Homme Fort_, -and to conclude the long procession of _Fantômes_, a thousand and one -in number, which now for some time past has been gliding before the -astonished eyes of the readers of the _Constitutionnel_. Other journals -follow the same plan with other authors, and in France no writer now -thinks of publishing a work of fiction elsewhere than at the foot of -a newspaper. To this feuilleton system, pushed to an extreme, and -entailing the necessity of introducing into each day's fragment an -amount of incident mystery or pungent matter, sufficient to carry the -reader over twenty-four hours, and make him anxious for the morrow's -return, is chiefly to be attributed the very great change for the worse -that of late has been observable in the class of French literature at -present under consideration. Its actual condition is certainly anything -but vigorous and flourishing, and until a manifest improvement takes -place, we are hardly likely again to pass it in review. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[21] A large gold coin, then worth nearly a hundred French livres. - - - - -Dies Boreales. - -No. V. - -CHRISTOPHER UNDER CANVASS. - -_Camp at Cladich._ - - -SCENE--_The Pavilion._ TIME--_After breakfast._ - -NORTH--TALBOYS--SEWARD--BULLER. - -NORTH. - -I begin to be doubtful of this day. On your visits to us, Talboys, you -have been most unfortunate in weather. This is more like August than -June. - -TALBOYS. - -The very word, my dear sir. It is indeed most august weather. - -NORTH. - -Five weeks to-day since we pitched our Camp--and we have had the -Beautiful of the Year in all its varieties; but the spiteful Season -seems to owe you some old grudge, Talboys--and to make it a point still -to assail your arrival with "thunder, lightning, and with rain." - -TALBOYS. - -"I tax not you, ye Elements! with unkindness." I feel assured they mean -nothing personal to me--and though this sort of work may not be very -favourable to Angling, 'tis quite a day for tidying our Tackle--and -making up our Books. But don't you think, sir, that the Tent would look -nothing the worse with some artificial light in this obscuration of the -natural? - -NORTH. - -Put on the gas. Pretty invention, the Gutta Percha tube, isn't it? The -Electric Telegraph is nothing to it. Tent illuminated in a moment, at a -pig's whisper. - -TALBOYS. - -Were I to wish, sir, for anything to happen now to the weather at all, -it would be just ever so little toning down of that one constituent -of the orchestral harmony of the Storm which men call--howling. -The Thunder is perfect--but that one Wind Instrument is slightly -out of tune--he is most anxious to do his best--his motive is -unimpeachable; but he has no idea how much more impressive--how much -more popular--would be a somewhat subdued style. There again--that's -positive discord--does he mean to disconcert the Concert--or does he -forget that he is not a Solo? - -BULLER. - -That must be a deluge of--hail. - -TALBOYS. - -So much the better. Hitherto we have had but rain. "Mysterious horrors! -HAIL!" - - "'Twas a rough night. - My young remembrance cannot parallel - A fellow to it." - -NORTH. - -Suppose we resume yesterday's conversation? - -TALBOYS. - -By all manner of means. Let's sit close--and speak loud--else all will -be dumb show. The whole world's one waterfall. - -NORTH. - -Take up Knight on Taste. Look at the dog-ear. - -TALBOYS. - -"The most perfect instance of this kind is the Tragedy of Macbeth, -in which the character of an ungrateful traitor, murderer, usurper, -and tyrant, is made in the highest degree interesting by the sublime -flashes of generosity, magnanimity, courage, and tenderness, which -continually burst forth in the manly but ineffective struggle of every -exalted quality that can dignify and adorn the human mind, first -against the allurements of ambition, and afterwards against the pangs -of remorse and horrors of despair. Though his wife has been the cause -of all his crimes and sufferings, neither the agony of his distress, -nor the fury of his rage, ever draw from him an angry word, or -upbraiding expression towards her; but even when, at her instigation, -he is about to add the murder of his friend and late colleague to that -of his sovereign, kinsman, and benefactor, he is chiefly anxious that -she should not share the guilt of his blood:--'Be innocent of the -knowledge, dearest chuck! till thou applaud the deed.' How much more -real grandeur and exaltation of character is displayed in one such -simple expression from the heart, than in all the laboured pomp of -rhetorical amplification." - -NORTH. - -What think you of that, Talboys? - -TALBOYS. - -Why, like much of the cant of criticism, it sounds at once queer and -commonplace. I seem to have heard it before many thousand times, and -yet never to have heard it at all till this moment. - -NORTH. - -Seward? - -SEWARD. - -Full of audacious assertions, that can be forgiven but in the belief -that Payne Knight had never read the tragedy, even with the most -ordinary attention. - -NORTH. - -Buller? - -BULLER. - -Cursed nonsense. Beg pardon, sir--sink cursed--mere nonsense--out and -out nonsense--nonsense by itself nonsense. - -NORTH. - -How so? - -BULLER. - -A foolish libel on Shakspeare. Was he the man to make the character of -an ungrateful traitor, murderer, usurper, and tyrant, interesting by -sublime flashes of generosity, magnanimity, courage, and tenderness, -and--do I repeat the words correctly?--of every exalted quality that -can dignify and adorn the human mind. - -NORTH. - -Buller--keep up that face--you are positively beautiful-- - -BULLER. - -No quizzing--I am ugly--but I have a good figure--look at that leg, sir! - -NORTH. - -I prefer the other. - -TALBOYS. - -There have been Poets among us who fain would--if they could--have -so violated nature; but their fabrications have been felt to be -falsehoods--and no quackery may resuscitate drowned lies. - -NORTH. - -Shakspeare nowhere insists on the virtues of Macbeth--he leaves their -measure indeterminate. That the villain may have had some good points -we are all willing to believe--few people are without them;--nor have -I any quarrel with those who believe he had high qualities, and is -corrupted by ambition. But what high qualities had he shown before -Shakspeare sets him personally before us to judge for ourselves? -Valour--courage--intrepidity--call it what you will--Martial Virtue-- - - "For brave Macbeth, (well he deserves that name,) - Disdaining fortune, with his brandished steel, - Which smoked with bloody execution - Like valour's minion, - Carved out his passage till he faced the slave; - And ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, - Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps, - And fixed his head upon our battlements." - -The "bleeding Serjeant" pursues his panegyric till he grows faint--and -is led off speechless; others take it up--and we are thus--and in other -ways--prepared to look on Macbeth as a paragon of bravery, loyalty, and -patriotism. - -TALBOYS. - -So had seemed Cawdor. - -NORTH. - -Good. Shakspeare sets Macbeth before us under the most imposing -circumstances of a warlike age; but of his inner character as yet he -has told us nothing--we are to find that out for ourselves during -the Drama. If there be sublime flashes of generosity, magnanimity, -and every exalted virtue, we have eyes to see, unless indeed blinded -by the lightning--and if the sublime flashes be frequent, and the -struggle of every exalted quality that can adorn the human mind, though -ineffectual, yet strong--why, then, we must not only pity and forgive, -but admire and love the "traitor, murderer, usurper, and tyrant," with -all the poetical and philosophical fervour of that amiable enthusiast, -Mr Payne Knight. - -BULLER. - -Somehow or other I cannot help having an affection for Macbeth. - -NORTH. - -You had better leave the Tent, sir. - -BULLER. - -No. I won't. - -NORTH - -Give us then, my dear Buller, your Theory of the Thane's character. - -BULLER. - -"Theory, God bless you, I have none to give, sir." Warlike valour, as -you said, is marked first and last--at the opening, and at the end. -Surely a good and great quality, at least for poetical purposes. High -general reputation won and held. The opinion of the wounded soldier was -that of the whole army; and when he himself says, "I have bought golden -opinions from all sorts of people, which would be worn now in their -newest gloss, not thrown aside so soon," I accept that he then truly -describes his position in men's minds. - -NORTH. - -All true. But we soon gain, too, this insight into his constitution, -that the pillar upon which he has built up life is Reputation, and -not Respect of Law--not Self-Respect; that the point which Shakspeare -above all others intends in him, is that his is a spirit not -self-stayed--leaning upon outward stays--and therefore-- - -BULLER. - -Liable to all-- - -NORTH. - -Don't take the words out of my mouth, sir; or rather, don't put them -into my mouth, sir. - -BULLER. - -Touchy to-day. - -NORTH. - -The strongest expression of this character is his throwing himself upon -the illicit divinings of futurity, upon counsellors known for infernal; -and you see what subjugating sway the Three Spirits take at once over -him. On the contrary, the Thaness is self-stayed; and this difference -grounds the poetical opposition of the two personages. In Macbeth, -I suppose a certain splendour of character--magnificence of action -high--a certain impure generosity--mixed up of some kindliness and -sympathy, and of the pleasure from self-elation and self-expansion in a -victorious career, and of that ambition which feeds on public esteem. - -BULLER. - -Ay--just so, sir. - -NORTH. - -Now mark, Buller--this is a character which, if the path of duty and -the path of personal ambition were laid out by the Sisters to be one -and the same path, might walk through life in sunlight and honour, and -invest the tomb with proud and revered trophies. To show such a spirit -wrecked and hurled into infamy--the ill-woven sails rent into shreds -by the whirlwind--is a lesson worthy the Play and the Poet--and such -a lesson as I think Shakspeare likely to have designed--or, without -preaching about lessons, such an ethical revelation as I think likely -to have caught hold upon Shakspeare's intelligence. It would seem to me -a dramatically-poetical subject. The mightiest of temptations occurs -to a mind, full of powers, endowed with available moral elements, but -without set virtue--without principles--"and down goes all before -it." If the essential delineation of Macbeth be this conflict of -Moral elements--of good and evil--of light and darkness--I see a very -poetical conception; if merely a hardened and bloody hypocrite from -the beginning, I see none. But I need not say to you, gentlemen, that -all this is as far as may be from the exaggerated panegyric on his -character by Payne Knight. - -TALBOYS. - -Macbeth is a brave man--so is Banquo--so are we Four, brave men--they -in their way and day--we in ours--they as Celts and Soldiers--we as -Saxons and Civilians--and we had all need to be so--for hark! in the -midst of ours, "Thunder and Lightning, and enter Three Witches." - -BULLER. - -I cannot say that I understand distinctly their first Confabulation. - -NORTH. - -That's a pity. A sensible man like you should understand everything. -But what if Shakspeare himself did not distinctly understand it? -There may have been original errata in the report, as extended by -himself from notes taken in short-hand on the spot--light bad--noise -worse--voices of Weird Sisters worst--matter obscure--manner -uncouth--why really, Buller, all things considered, Shakspeare has -shown himself a very pretty Penny-a-liner. - -BULLER. - -I cry you mercy, sir. - -SEWARD. - -_Where_ are the Witches on their first appearance, at the very opening -of the wonderful Tragedy? - -NORTH. - -An open Place, with thunder and lightning. - -SEWARD. - -I know that--the words are written down. - -NORTH. - -Somewhere or other--anywhere--nowhere. - -BULLER. - -In Fife or Forfar? Or some one or other of your outlandish, or -inlandish, Lowland or Highland Counties? - -NORTH. - -Not knowing, can't say. Probably. - -SEWARD - - "When the Hurly Burly's done, - When the Battle's lost and won." - -What Hurly Burly? What Battle? That in which Macbeth is then engaged? -And which is to be brought to issue ere "set of sun" of the day on -which "enter Three Witches?" - -NORTH. - -Let it be so. - -SEWARD. - - "Upon the heath, - There to meet with Macbeth." - -The Witches, then, are to meet with Macbeth on the heath on the Evening -of the Battle? - -NORTH. - -It would seem so. - -SEWARD. - -They are "posters over sea and land"--and, like whiffs of lightning, -can outsail and outride the sound of thunder. But Macbeth and Banquo -must have had on their seven-league boots. - -NORTH. - -They must. - -SEWARD. - - "A drum, a drum! - Macbeth doth come." - -Was he with the advanced guard of the Army? - -NORTH. - -Not unlikely--attended by his Staff. Generals, on such occasions, -usually ride--but perhaps Macbeth and Banquo, being in kilts, preferred -walking in their seven-league boots. Thomas Campbell has said, "When -the drum of the Scottish Army is heard on the wild heath, and when I -fancy it advancing with its bowmen in front, and its spears and banners -in the distance, I am always disappointed with Macbeth's entrance at -the head of a few kilted actors." The army may have been there--but -they did not see the Weirds--nor, I believe, did the Weirds see them. -With Macbeth and Banquo alone had they to do: we see no Army at that -hour--we hear no drums--we are deaf even to the Great Highland Bagpipe, -though He, you may be sure, was not dumb--all "plaided and plumed in -their tartan array" the Highland Host ceased to be--like vanished -shadows--at the first apparition of "those so withered and so wild in -their attire"--not of the earth though on it, and alive somewhere till -this day--while generations after generations of mere Fighting Men have -been disbanded by dusty Death. - -SEWARD. - -I wish to know _where_ and _when_ had been the Fighting? The -Norwegian--one Sweno, had come down very handsomely at Inchcolm with -ten thousand dollars--a sum in those days equal to a million of money -in Scotland---- - -NORTH. - -Seward, speak on subjects you understand. What do you know, sir, of the -value of money _in_ those days in Scotland? - -SEWARD. - -But _where_ had been all the Fighting? There would seem to have been -two hurley-burleys. - -NORTH. - -I see your drift, Seward. _Time and Place_, through the First Scene of -the First Act, are past finding out. It has been asked--Was Shakspeare -ever in Scotland? Never. There is not one word in this Tragedy leading -a Scotsman to think so--many showing he never had that happiness. Let -him deal with our localities according to his own sovereign will and -pleasure, as a prevailing Poet. But let no man point out his dealings -with our localities as proofs of his having such knowledge of them as -implies personal acquaintance with them gained by a longer or shorter -visit in Scotland. The Fights at the beginning seem to be in Fife. The -Soldier, there wounded, delivers his relation at the King's Camp before -Forres. He has crawled, in half-an-hour, or an hour--or two hours--say -seventy, eighty, or a hundred miles, or more--crossing the ridge of the -Grampians. Rather smart. I do not know what you think here of Time; but -I think that Space is here pretty well done for. The TIME of the Action -of Shakspeare's Plays has never yet, so far as I know, been, in any -one Play, carefully investigated--never investigated at all; and I now -announce to you Three--don't mention it--that I have made discoveries -here that will astound the whole world, and demand a New Criticism of -the entire Shakspearean Drama. - -BULLER. - -Let us have one now, I beseech you, sir. - -NORTH. - -Not now. - -BULLER. - -No sleep in the Tent till we have it, sir. I do dearly love astounding -discoveries--and at this time of day, in astounding discovery in -Shakspeare! May it not prove a Mare's Nest! - -NORTH. - -The Tragedy of Macbeth is a _prodigious_ Tragedy, because in it the -Chariot of Nemesis _visibly_ rides in the lurid thunder-sky. Because -in it the ill motions of a human soul, which Theologians account for -by referring them all to suggestions of Beelzebub, are expounded in -visible, mysterious, tangible, terrible shape and symbolisation by -the Witches. It is great by the character and person, workings and -sufferings, of Lady Macbeth--by the immense poetical power in doing -the Witches--mingling for once in the world the Homely-Grotesque and -the Sublime--extinguishing the Vulgar in the Sublime--by the bond, -whatsoever it be, between Macbeth and his wife--by making us tolerate -her and him---- - -BULLER. - -Didn't I say that in my own way, sir? And didn't you reprove me for -saying it, and order me out of the Tent? - -NORTH. - -And what of the Witches? - -BULLER. - -Had you not stopt me. I say now, sir, that nobody understands -Shakspeare's HECATE. Who is SHE? Each of the Three Weirds is = one -Witch + one of the Three Fates--therefore the union of two incompatible -natures--more than in a Centaur. Oh! Sir! what a hand that was which -bound the two into one--inseverably! There they are for ever as the -Centaurs _are_. But the gross Witch prevails; which Shakspeare needed -for securing belief, and he has it, full. Hecate, sir, comes in to -balance the disproportion--she lifts into Mythology--and strengthens -the mythological tincture. So does the "Pit of Acheron." That is -classical. To the best of my remembrance, no mention of any such Pit in -the Old or New Statistical Account of Scotland. - -NORTH. - -And, in the Incantation Scene, those Apparitions! Mysterious, ominous, -picturesque--and self-willed. They are commanded by the Witches, but -under a limitation. Their oracular power is their own. They are of -unknown orders--as if for the occasion created in Hell. - -North. - -Talboys, are you asleep--or are you at Chess with your eyes shut? - -TALBOYS. - -At Chess with my eyes shut. I shall send off my move to my friend -Stirling by first post. But my ears were open--and I ask--when did -Macbeth first design the murder of Duncan? Does not everybody think--in -the moment _after_ the Witches have first accosted and left him? Does -not--it may be asked--the whole moral significancy of the Witches -disappear, unless the invasion of hell into Macbeth's bosom is first -made by their presence and voices? - -NORTH. - -No. The whole moral significancy of the Witches only then appears, when -we are assured that they address themselves only to those who already -have been tampering with their conscience. "Good sir! why do you start, -and seem to fear things that do sound so fair?" That question put to -Macbeth by Banquo turns our eyes to his face--and we see Guilt. There -was no start at "Hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor,"--but at the word -"King" well might he start; for ---- eh? - -TALBOYS. - -We must look up the Scene. - -NORTH. - -No need for that. You have it by heart--recite it. - -TALBOYS. - - "_Macbeth._ So foul and fair a day I have not seen. - - _Banquo._ How far is't call'd to Forres?--What are these, - So wither'd, and so wild in their attire; - That look not like the inhabitants of the earth, - And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught - That man may question? You seem to understand me, - By each at once her choppy finger laying - Upon her skinny lips:--You should be women, - And yet your beards forbid me to interpret - That you are so. - - _Macbeth._ Speak, if you can;--What are you? - - _1st Witch._ All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis! - - _2d Witch._ All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Cawdor! - - _3d Witch._ All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter. - - _Banquo._ Good sir, why do you start; and seem to fear - Things that do sound so fair?--I' the name of truth, - Are ye fantastical, or that indeed - Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner - You greet with present grace, and great prediction - Of noble having, and of royal hope, - That he seems rapt withal; to me you speak not: - If you can look into the seeds of time, - And say which grain will grow, and which will not; - Speak then to me, who neither beg, nor fear - Your favours nor your hate. - - _1st Witch._ Hail! - - _2d Witch._ Hail! - - _3d Witch._ Hail! - - _1st Witch._ Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. - - _2d Witch._ Not so happy, yet much happier. - - _3d Witch._ Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none: - So, all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! - - _1st Witch._ Banquo and Macbeth, all hail! - - _Macbeth._ Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more: - By Sinel's death, I know, I am thane of Glamis; - But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives, - A prosperous gentleman; and to be king, - Stands not within the prospect of belief, - No more than to be Cawdor. Say, from whence - You owe this strange intelligence? or why - Upon this blasted heath you stop our way - With such prophetic greeting?--Speak, I charge you. - -[_Witches vanish._ - - _Banquo._ The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, - And these are of them:--Whither are they vanish'd? - - _Macbeth._ Into the air, and what seem'd corporal, melted - As breath into the wind. 'Would they had staid! - - _Banquo._ Were such things here, as we do speak about? - Or have we eaten of the insane root, - That takes the reason prisoner. - - _Macbeth._ Your children shall be kings. - - _Banquo._ You shall be king. - - _Macbeth._ And thane of Cawdor too; went it not so? - - _Banquo._ To the self-same tune, and words." - -NORTH. - -Charles Kemble himself could not have given it more impressively. - -BULLER. - -You make him blush, sir. - -NORTH. - -Attend to that "start" of Macbeth, Talboys. - -TALBOYS. - -He might well start on being told of a sudden, by such seers, that he -was hereafter to be King of Scotland. - -NORTH. - -There was more in the start than that, my lad, else Shakspeare would -not have so directed our eyes to it. I say again--it was the start--of -a murderer. - -TALBOYS. - -And what if I say it was not? But I have the candour to confess, that -I am not familiar with the starts of murderers--so may possibly be -mistaken. - -NORTH. - -Omit what intervenes--and give us the Soliloquy, Talboys. But before -you do so, let me merely remind you that Macbeth's mind, from the -little he says in the interim, is manifestly ruminating on something -bad, ere he breaks out into Soliloquy. - -TALBOYS. - - "Two truths are told, - As happy prologues to the swelling act - Of the imperial theme--I thank you, gentlemen.-- - This supernatural soliciting - Cannot be ill--cannot be good:--If ill, - Why hath it given me earnest of success, - Commencing in a truth? I am Thane of Cawdor: - If good, why do I yield to that suggestion - Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair, - And make my seated heart knock at my ribs - Against the use of nature? Present fears - Are less than horrible imaginings: - My thought whose murder is yet but fantastical - Shakes so my single state of man, that function - Is smothered in surmise; and nothing is, - But what is not." - -NORTH. - -Now, my dear Talboys, you will agree with me in thinking that this -first great and pregnant, although brief soliloquy, stands for germ, -type, and law of the whole Play, and of its criticism--and for clue -to the labyrinth of the Thane's character. "Out of this wood do not -desire to go." Out of it I do not expect soon to go. I regard William -as a fair Poet and a reasonable Philosopher; but as a supereminent -Play-wright. The First Soliloquy _must_ speak the nature of Macbeth, -else the Craftsman has no skill in his trade. A Soliloquy _reveals_. -That is its function. Therein is the soul heard and seen discoursing -with itself--within itself; and if you carry your eye through--up to -the First Appearance of Lady Macbeth--this Soliloquy is distinctly -the highest point of the Tragedy--the tragic acme--or dome--or -pinnacle--therefore of power indefinite, infinite. On this rock I -stand, a Colossus ready to be thrown down by--an Earthquake. - -BULLER. - -Pushed off by--a shove. - -NORTH. - -Not by a thousand Buller-power. Can you believe, Buller, that the word -of the Third Witch, "that shalt be KING Hereafter," _sows_ the murder -in Macbeth's heart, and that it springs up, flowers, and fruits with -such fearful rapidity. - -BULLER. - -Why--Yes and No. - -NORTH. - -Attend, Talboys, to the words "supernatural soliciting." What -"supernatural soliciting" to evil is there here? Not a syllable -had the Weird Sisters breathed about Murder. But now there is much -soliloquising--and Cawdor contemplates himself _objectively_--seen -busy upon an elderly gentleman called Duncan--after a fashion that so -frightens him _subjectively_--that Banquo cannot help whispering to -Rosse and Angus-- - - "See how our partner's rapt!" - -TALBOYS. - -"My thought whose murder's yet fantastical." I agree with you, sir, in -suspecting he must have thought of the murder. - -NORTH. - -It is from no leaning towards the Weird Sisters--whom I never set eyes -on but once, and then without interchanging a word, leapt momentarily -out of this world into that pitch-pot of a pond in Glenco--it is, I -say, from no leaning towards the Weird Sisters that I take this view of -Macbeth's character. No "sublime flashes of generosity, magnanimity, -tenderness, and every exalted quality that can dignify and adorn the -human mind," do I ever suffer to pass by without approbation, when -coruscating from the character of any well-disposed man, real or -imaginary, however unaccountable at other times his conduct may appear -to be; but Shakspeare, who knew Macbeth better than any of us, has here -assured us that he was in heart a murderer--for how long he does not -specify--before he had ever seen a birse on any of the Weird Sisters' -beards. But let's be canny. Talboys--pray, what is the meaning of the -word "soliciting," "preternatural soliciting," in this Soliloquy? - -TALBOYS. - -Soliciting, sir, is, in my interpreting, "an appealing, intimate -visitation." - -NORTH. - -Right. The appeal is general--as that _challenge_ of a trumpet--_Fairy -Queen_, book III., canto xii., stanza 1-- - - "Signe of nigh battail or got victorye"-- - -which, all indeterminate, is notwithstanding _a challenge_--operates, -and is felt as such. - -TALBOYS. - -So a thundering knock at your door--which may be a friend or an -enemy. It comes as a summoning. It is more than internal urging and -inciting of me by my own thoughts--for mark, sir, the rigour of the -word "supernatural," which throws the soliciting off his own soul upon -the Weirds. The word is really undetermined to pleasure or pain--the -essential thought being that there is a searching or penetrating -provocative--a stirring up of that which lay dead and still. Next is -the debate whether this intrusive, and pungent, and stimulant assault -of a presence and an oracle be good or ill? - -NORTH. - -Does the hope live in him for a moment that this home-visiting is not -ill--that the Spirits are not ill? They have spoken truth so far--ergo, -the Third "All hail!" shall be true, too. But more than that--they have -spoken _truth_. Ergo, they are not spirits of Evil. That hope dies -in the same instant, submerged in the stormy waves which the blast -from hell arouses. The infernal revelation glares clear before him--a -Crown held out by the hand of Murder. One or two struggles occur. Then -the truth stands before him fixed and immutable--"Evil, be thou my -good." He is dedicated: and passive to fate. I cannot comprehend this -so feeble debate in the mind of a good man--I cannot comprehend any -such debate at all in the mind of a previously settled and determined -murderer; but I can comprehend and feel its awful significancy in the -mind of a man already in a most perilous moral condition. - -SEWARD. - -The "start" shows that the spark has caught--it has fallen into a tun -of gunpowder. - -TALBOYS. - -The touch of Ithuriel's spear. - -NORTH. - -May we not say, then, that perhaps the Witches have shown no more than -this--the Fascination of Contact between Passion and Opportunity? - -SEWARD. - -To Philosophy reading the hieroglyphic; but to the People what? To -them they are a reality. They seize the imagination with all power. -They come like "blasts from hell"--like spirits of Plague, whose -breath--whose very sight kills. - - "Within them Hell - They bring, and round about them; nor from Hell - One step, no more than from themselves, can fly." - -The contagion of their presence, in spite of what we have been saying, -almost reconciles my understanding to what it would otherwise revolt -from, the _suddenness_ with which the penetration of Macbeth into -futurity lays fast hold upon Murder. - -BULLER. - -Pretty fast--though it gives a twist or two in his handling. - -SEWARD. - -Lady Macbeth herself corroborates your judgment and Shakspeare's on her -husband's character. - -TALBOYS. - -Does she? - -SEWARD. - -She does. In that dreadful parley between them on the night of the -Murder--she reminds him of a time when - - "_Nor time nor place - Did then adhere, and yet you would make both_; - They have made themselves, and that their fitness now - Does unmake you." - -This--mark you, sir--must have been before the Play began! - -NORTH. - -I have often thought of the words--and Shakspeare himself has so -adjusted the action of the Play as that, _since the encounter with the -Weirds_, no opportunity had occurred to Macbeth for the "making of -time and place." Therefore it must, as you say, have been _before it_. -Buller, what say you now? - -BULLER. - -Gagged. - -NORTH. - -True, she speaks of his being "full of the milk of human kindness." -The words have become favourites with us, who are an affectionate and -domestic people--and are lovingly applied to the loving; but Lady -Macbeth attached no such profound sense to them as we do; and meant -merely that she thought her husband would, after all, much prefer -greatness unbought by blood; and, at the time she referred to, it is -probable he would; but that she meant no more than that, is plain from -the continuation of her praise, in which her ideas get not a little -confused; and her words, interpret them as you will, leave nothing -"milky" in Macbeth at all. Milk of human kindness, indeed! - -TALBOYS. - - "What thou would'st highly, - That would'st thou holily; would'st not play false, - And yet would'st wrongly win: thou'dst have great Glamis, - That which cries, 'Thus thou must do, if thou have it; - And that which rather thou dost fear to do - Than wishest should be undone.'" - -_That_ is her Ladyship's notion of the "milk of human kindness"! "I -wish somebody would murder Duncan--as for murdering him myself, I am -much too tender-hearted and humane for perpetrating such cruelty with -my own hand!" - -BULLER. - -Won't you believe a Wife to be a good judge of her Husband's -disposition? - -NORTH. - -Not Lady Macbeth. For does not she herself tell us, at the same time, -that he had formerly schemed how to commit Murder? - -BULLER. - -Gagged again. - -NORTH. - -I see no reason for doubting that she was attached to her husband; and -Shakspeare loved to put into the lips of women beautiful expressions of -love--but he did not intend that we should be deceived thereby in our -moral judgements. - -SEWARD. - -Did this ever occur to you, sir? Macbeth, when hiring the murderers who -are to look after Banquo and Fleance, cites a conversation in which -he had demonstrated to them that the oppression under which they had -long suffered, and which they had supposed to proceed from Macbeth, -proceeded really from Banquo? My firm belief is that it proceeded from -Macbeth--that their suspicion was right--that Macbeth is misleading -them--and that Shakspeare means you to apprehend this. But why should -Macbeth have oppressed his inferiors, unless he had been--long -since--of a tyrannical nature? He oppresses his inferiors--they are -sickened and angered with the world--by his oppression--he tells them -'twas not he but another who had oppressed them--and that other--at his -instigation--they willingly murder. An ugly affair altogether. - -NORTH. - -Very. But let us keep to the First Act--and see what a hypocrite -Macbeth has so very soon become--what a savage assassin! He has just -followed up his Soliloquy with these significant lines-- - - "Come what come may, - _Time and the hour run through the roughest day_;" - -when he recollects that Banquo, Rosse, and Angus are standing near. -Richard himself is not more wily--guily--smily--and oily; to the Lords -his condescension is already quite kingly-- - - "Kind gentlemen, your pains - Are registered where every day I turn - The leaf to read them"-- - -TALBOYS. - -And soon after, to the King how obsequious! - - "The service and the loyalty I owe, - In doing it, pays itself. Your Highness' part - Is to receive our duties; and our duties - Are to your throne and state, children, and servants; - Which do but what they should by doing everything - Safe toward you love and honour." - -What would Payne Knight have said to all that? This to his King, whom -he has resolved, first good opportunity, to murder! - -NORTH. - -Duncan is now too happy for this wicked world. - - "My plenteous joys, - Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves - In drops of sorrow." - -Invaders--traitors--now there are none. Peace is restored to the -Land--the Throne rock-fast--the line secure-- - - "We will establish our estate upon - Our eldest, Malcolm; whom we name hereafter, - The Prince of Cumberland: which honour must - Not, unaccompanied, invest him only, - But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine - On all deservers." - -Now was the time for "the manly but ineffectual struggle of every -exalted quality that can dignify and exalt the human mind"--for a few -sublime flashes at least of generosity and tenderness, et cetera--now -when the Gracious Duncan is loading him with honours, and, better than -all honours, lavishing on him the boundless effusions of a grateful -and royal heart. The Prince of Cumberland! Ha, ha! - - "The Prince of Cumberland!--That is a step - On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, - For in my way it lies." - -But the remorseless miscreant becomes poetical-- - - "Stars, hide your fires! - Let not light see my black and deep desires: - The eye wink at the hand! yet let that be, - Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see!" - -The milk of human kindness has coagulated into the curd of inhuman -ferocity--and all this--slanderers say--is the sole work of the Weird -Sisters! No. His wicked heart--because it is wicked--believes in -their Prophecy--the end is assured to him--and the means are at once -suggested to his own slaughterous nature. No supernatural soliciting -here, which a better man would not successfully have resisted. I -again repudiate--should it be preferred against me--the charge of a -_tendresse_ towards the Bearded Beauties of the Blasted Heath; but -rather would I marry them all Three--one after the other--nay all three -at once, and as many more as there may be in our Celtic Mythology--than -see your Sophia, Seward, or, Buller, your-- - -BULLER. - -We have but Marmy. - -NORTH. - -Wedded to a Macbeth. - -SEWARD. - -We know your affection, my dear sir, for your goddaughter. She is -insured. - -NORTH. - -Well, this Milk of Human Kindness is off at a hand-gallop to Inverness. -The King has announced a Royal Visit to Macbeth's own Castle. But -Cawdor had before this despatched a letter to his lady, from which -Shakspeare has given us an extract. And then, as I understand it, a -special messenger besides, to say "the King comes here to-night." -Which of the two is the more impatient to be at work 'tis hard to say; -but the idea of the murder originated with the male Prisoner. We have -his wife's word for it--she told him so to his face--and he did not -deny it. We have his own word for it--he told himself so to his own -face--and he never denies it at any time during the play. - -TALBOYS. - -You said, a little while ago, sir, that you believed Macbeth and his -wife were a happy couple. - -NORTH. - -Not I. I said she was attached to him--and I say now that the wise -men are not of the Seven, who point to her reception of her husband, -on his arrival at _home_, as a proof of her want of affection. They -seem to think she ought to have rushed into his arms--slobbered upon -his shoulder--and so forth. For had he not been at the Wars? Pshaw! -The most tender-hearted Thanesses of those days--even those that -kept albums--would have been ashamed of weeping on sending their -Thanes off to battle--much more on receiving them back in a sound -skin--with new honours nodding on their plumes. Lady Macbeth was not -one of the turtle-doves--fit mate she for the King of the Vultures. -I am too good an ornithologist to call them Eagles. She received her -mate fittingly--with murder in her soul; but more cruel--more selfish -than he, she could not be--nor, perhaps, was she less; but she was -more resolute--and resolution even in evil--in such circumstances as -hers--seems to argue a superior nature to his, who, while he keeps -vacillating, as if it were between good and evil, betrays all the time -the bias that is surely inclining him to evil, into which he makes a -sudden and sure wheel at last. - -BULLER. - -The Weirds--the Weirds!--the Weirds have done it all! - -NORTH. - -Macbeth--Macbeth!--Macbeth has done it all! - -BULLER. - -Furies and Fates! - -NORTH. - -Who make the wicked their victims! - -SEWARD. - -Is she sublime in her wickedness? - -NORTH. - -It would, I fear, be wrong to say so. But I was speaking of Macbeth's -character--not of hers--and, in comparison with him, she may seem a -great creature. They are now utterly alone--and of the two he has been -the more familiar with murder. Between them, Duncan already is a dead -man. But how pitiful--at such a time and at such a greeting--Macbeth's -cautions-- - - "My dearest Love, - Duncan comes here to-night! - - _Lady._--And when goes hence? - - _Macbeth._--To-morrow, as he purposes. - - _Lady._--Oh, never - Shall sun that morrow see!" - -Why, Talboys, does not the poor devil-- - -TALBOYS. - -Poor devil! Macbeth a poor devil? - -NORTH. - -Why, Buller, does not the poor devil? - -BULLER. - -Poor devil! Macbeth a poor devil? - -NORTH. - -Why, Seward, does not the poor devil-- - -SEWARD. - -Speak up--speak out? Is he afraid of the spiders? You know him, -sir--you see through him. - -NORTH. - -Ay, Seward--reserved and close as he is--he wants nerve--_pluck_--he is -close upon the coward--and that would be well, were there the slightest -tendency towards change of purpose in the Pale Face; but there is -none--he is as cruel as ever--the more close the more cruel--the more -irresolute the more murderous--for to murder he is sure to come. -Seward, you said well--why does not the poor devil speak up--speak out? -Is he afraid of the spiders? - -TALBOYS. - -Murderous-looking villain--no need of words. - -NORTH. - -I did not say, sir, there was any need of words. Why, will you always -be contradicting one? - -TALBOYS. - -Me? I? I hope I shall never live to see the day on which I contradict -Christopher North in his own Tent. At least--rudely. - -NORTH. - -Do it rudely--not as you did now--and often do--as if you were agreeing -with me--but you are incurable. I say, my dear Talboys, that Macbeth -so bold in a "twa-haun'd crack" with himself in a Soliloquy--so -figurative--and so fond of swearing by the Stars and old Mother -Night, who were not aware of his existence--should not have been thus -tongue-tied to his own wife in their own secretest chamber--should have -unlocked and flung open the door of his heart to her--like a Man. I -blush for him--I do. So did his wife. - -BULLER. - -I don't find that in the record. - -NORTH. - -Don't you? "Your face, my Thane, is as a book where men may read -strange matters." She sees in his face self-alarm at his own -murderous intentions. And so she counsels him about his face--like a -self-collected, trustworthy woman. "To beguile the time, look like the -time;" with further good stern advice. But--"We shall speak farther," -is all she can get from him in answer to conjugal assurances that -should have given him a palpitation at the heart, and set his eyes on -fire-- - - "He that's coming - Must be provided for; and you shall put - This night's great business into my despatch; - Which shall, to all our nights and days to come, - Give solely sovereign sway and Masterdom." - -There spoke one worthy to be a Queen! - -SEWARD. - -Worthy! - -NORTH. - -Ay--in that age--in that country. 'Twas not then the custom "to speak -daggers but use none." Did Shakspeare mean to dignify, to magnify -Macbeth by such demeanour? No--to degrade and minimise the murderer. - -TALBOYS. - -My dear sir, I cordially agree with every word you utter. Go on--my -dear sir--to instruct--to illumine-- - -SEWARD. - -To bring out "sublime flashes of magnanimity, courage, tenderness," in -Macbeth-- - -BULLER. - -"Of every exalted quality that can dignify and adorn the human -mind"--the mind of Macbeth in his struggle with the allurements of -ambition! - -NORTH. - -Observe, how this reticence--on the part of Macbeth--contrasted with -his wife's eagerness and exultation, makes her, for the moment, seem -the wickeder of the two--the fiercer and the more cruel. For the moment -only; for we soon ask ourselves what means this un-husbandly reserve -in him who had sent her _that letter_--and then a messenger to tell -her the king was coming--and who had sworn to himself as savagely as -she now does, not to let slip this opportunity of cutting his king's -throat. He is well-pleased to see that his wife is as bloody-minded as -himself--that she will not only give all necessary assistance--as an -associate--but concert the when, and the where, and the how--and if -need be, with her own hand deal the blow. - -SEWARD. - -She did not then know that Macbeth had made up his mind to murder -Duncan that very night. _But we know it._ She has instantly made up -hers--we know how; but being as yet unassured of her husband, she -welcomes him home with a Declaration that must have more than answered -his fondest hopes; and, therefore, he is almost mute--the few words he -does utter seem to indicate no settled purpose--Duncan may fulfil his -intention of going in the morning, or he may not; but we know that the -silence of the murderer now is because the murderess is manifestly all -he could wish--and that, had she shown any reluctance, he would have -resumed his eloquence, and, to convert her to his way of thinking, -argued as powerfully as he did when converting himself. - -BULLER. - -You carry on at such a pace, sir, there's no keeping up with you. -Pull up, that I may ask you a very simple question. On his arrival at -his castle, Macbeth finds his wife reading a letter from her amiable -spouse, about the Weird Sisters. Pray, when was that letter written? - -NORTH. - -At what hour precisely? That I can't say. It must, however, have been -written before Macbeth had been presented to the King--for there is no -allusion in it to the King's intention to visit their Castle. I believe -it to have been written about an hour or so after the prophecy of the -Weirds--either in some place of refreshment by the roadside--or in -such a Tent as this--kept ready for the General in the King's Camp at -Forres. He despatched it by a Gilly--a fast one like your Cornwall -Clipper--and then tumbled in. - -BULLER. - -When did she receive it? - -NORTH. - -Early next morning. - -BULLER. - -How could that be, since she is reading it, as her husband steps in, -well on, as I take it, in the afternoon? - -NORTH. - -Buller, you are a blockhead. There had she, for many hours, been -sitting, and walking _about_ with it, now rumpled up in her fist--now -crunkled up between her breasts--now locked up in a safe--now spread -out like a sampler on that tasty little oak table--and sometimes -she might have been heard by the servants--had they had the unusual -curiosity to listen at the door--murmuring like a stock-dove--anon -hooting like an owl--by-and-by barking like an eagle--then bellowing -liker a hart than a hind--almost howling like a wolf--and why not?--now -singing a snatch of an old Gaelic air, with a clear, wild, sweet voice, -like that of "a human!" - - "Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be - What thou art promised." - "Hie thee hither, - That I may pour my spirits in thine ear, - And chastise with the valour of my tongue, - All that impedes thee from the golden round, - Which Fate and metaphysical aid doth seem - To have thee crown'd withal." - -BULLER. - -Grand indeed. - -NORTH. - -It _is_ grand indeed. But, my dear Buller, was that all she had said -to herself, think you? No--no--no. But it was all Shakspeare had time -for on the Stage. Oh, sirs! The Time of the Stage is but a simulacrum -of true Time. That must be done at one stroke, on the Stage, which -in a Life takes ten. The Stage persuades _that_ in one conversation, -or soliloquy, which Life may do in twenty--you have not leisure or -good-will for the ambages and iterations of the Real. - -SEWARD. - -See an artist with a pen in his hand, challenged; and with a few lines -he will exhibit a pathetic story. From how many millions has he given -you--One? The units which he abstracts, represent sufficiently and -satisfactorily the millions of lines and surfaces which he neglects. - -NORTH. - -So in Poetry. You take little for much. You need not wonder, then, that -on an attendant entering and saying, "The King comes here to-night," -she cries, "Thou'rt mad to say it!" Had you happened to tell her so -half-an-hour ago, who knows but that she might have received it with a -stately smile, that hardly moved a muscle on her high-featured front, -and gave a merciful look to her green eyes even when she was communing -with Murder! - -NORTH. - -What hurry and haste had been on all sides to get into the House of -Murder! - - "Where's the Thane of Cawdor? - We coursed him, at the heels, and had a purpose - To be his purveyor: but he rides well: - And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him - To his home before us--Fair and noble Hostess, - We are your guest to-night." - -Ay, where is the Thane of Cawdor? I, for one, not knowing, can't say. -The gracious Duncan desires much to see him as well as his gracious -Hostess. - - "Give me your hand: - Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly, - And shall continue our graces towards him. - By your leave, Hostess." - -Ay--where's the Thane of Cawdor? Why did not Shakspeare show him to us, -sitting at supper with the King? - -TALBOYS. - -Did he sup with the King? - -BULLER. - -I believe he sat down--but got up again--and left the Chamber. - -TALBOYS. - -His wife seeks him out. "He has almost supped. Why have you left the -Chamber?" "Has he asked for me?" "Know ye not he has?" - -NORTH. - -On Macbeth's Soliloquy, which his wife's entrance here interrupts, -how much inconsiderate comment have not moralists made! Here--they -have said--is the struggle of a good man with temptation. Hearken, -say they--to the voice of Conscience! What does the good man, in this -hour of trial, say to himself? He says to himself--"I have made up my -mind to assassinate my benefactor in my own house--the only doubt I -have, is about the consequences to myself in the world to come." Well, -then--"We'd jump the world to come. But if I murder him--may not others -murder me? Retribution even in this world." Call you that the voice of -Conscience? - -SEWARD. - -Hardly. - -NORTH. - -He then goes on to descant to himself about the relation in which he -stands to Duncan, and apparently discovers for the first time, that -"he's here in double trust;" and that as his host, his kinsman, and his -subject, he should "against his murderer shut the door, not bear the -knife myself." - -SEWARD. - -A man of genius. - -NORTH. - -Besides, Duncan is not only a King, but a good King-- - - "So clear in his great office, that his virtues - Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against - The deep damnation of his taking-off." - -That is much better morality--keep there, Macbeth--or thereabouts--and -Duncan's life is tolerably safe--at least for one night. But Shakspeare -knew his man--and what manner of man he is we hear in the unbearable -context, that never yet has been quoted by any one who had ears to -distinguish between the true and the false. - - "And pity, like a naked new-born babe, - Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, hors'd - Upon the sightless couriers of the air, - Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, - That tears shall drown the wind." - -Cant and fustian. Shakspeare knew that cant and fustian would come -at that moment from the mouth of Macbeth. Accordingly, he offers but -a poor resistance to the rhetoric that comes rushing from his wife's -heart--even that sentiment which is thought so fine--and 'tis well -enough in its way-- - - "I dare do all that may become a man; - Who dares do more is none"-- - -is set aside at once by-- - - "What beast was it, then, - That made you break this enterprise to me?" - -We hear no more of "Pity like a naked new-born babe"--but at her horrid -scheme of the murder-- - - "Bring forth men-children only! - For thy undaunted mettle should compose - Nothing but males!" - -Shakspeare does not paint here a grand and desperate struggle between -good and evil thoughts in Macbeth's mind--but a mock fight; had there -been any deep sincerity in the feeling expressed in the bombast--had -there been any true feeling at all--it would have revived and -deepened--not faded and died almost--at the picture drawn by Lady -Macbeth of their victim-- - - "When Duncan is asleep, - Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey - Soundly invite him," - -the words that had just left his own lips-- - - "His virtues - Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against - The deep damnation of his taking-off," - -would have re-rung in his ears; and a strange medley--words and -music--would they have made--with his wife's - - "When in swinish sleep - Their drenched natures lie, as in a death, - What cannot you and I perform upon - The unguarded Duncan?" - -That is my idea of the Soliloquy. Think on it. - -TALBOYS. - -The best critics tell us that Shakspeare's Lady Macbeth has a -commanding Intellect. Certes she has a commanding Will. I do not see -what a commanding Intellect has to do in a Tragedy of this kind--or -what opportunity she has of showing it. Do you, sir? - -NORTH. - -I do not. - -TALBOYS. - -Her Intellect seems pretty much on a par with Macbeth's in the planning -of the murder. - -NORTH. - -I defy any human Intellect to devise well an atrocious Murder. Pray, -how would you have murdered Duncan? - -TALBOYS. - -Ask me rather how I would--this night--murder Christopher North. - -NORTH. - -No more of that--no dallying in that direction. You make me shudder. -Shakspeare knew that a circumspect murder is an impossibility--that -a murder of a King in the murderer's own house, with expectation -of non-discovery, is the irrationality of infatuation. The poor -Idiot chuckles at the poor Fury's device as at once original and -plausible--and, next hour, what single soul in the Castle does not know -who did the deed? - -SEWARD. - -High Intellect indeed! - -TALBOYS. - -The original murder is bad to the uttermost. I mean badly contrived. -What colour was there in colouring the two Grooms? No two men kill -their master, and then go to bed again in his room with bloody faces -and poignards. - -BULLER. - -If this was really a very bad plot altogether, it is her Ladyship's as -much--far more than his Lordship's. Against whom, then, do we conclude? -Her? I think not--but the Poet. _He_ is the badly-contriving assassin. -He does not intend lowering your esteem for her Ladyship's talents. -Am I, sir, to think that William himself, after the same game, would -have hunted no better? I believe he would; but he thinks that this will -carry the Plot through for the Stage well enough. The House, seeing and -hearing, will not stay to criticise. The Horror persuades Belief. He -knew the whole mystery of murder. - -NORTH. - -My dear Buller, wheel nearer me. I would not lose a word you say. - -BULLER. - -Did Macbeth commit an error in killing the two Grooms? And does his -Lady think so? - -TALBOYS. - -A gross error, and his Lady thinks so. - -BULLER. - -Why was it a gross error--and why did his lady think so? - -TALBOYS. - -Because--why--I really can't tell. - -BULLER. - -Nor I. The question leads to formidable difficulties--either way. But -answer me this. Is her swooning at the close of her husband's most -graphic picture of the position of the corpses--real or pretended? - -SEWARD. - -Real. - -TALBOYS. - -Pretended. - -BULLER. - -Sir? - -NORTH. - -I reserve my opinion. - -TALBOYS. - -Not a faint--but a _feint_. She cannot undo that which is done; nor -hinder that which he will do next. She must mind her own business. -Now distinctly her own business is--to faint. A high-bred, sensitive, -innocent Lady, startled from her sleep to find her guest and King -murdered, and the room full of aghast nobles, cannot possibly do -anything else but faint. Lady Macbeth, who "all particulars of duty -knows," faints accordingly. - -NORTH. - -Seward, we are ready to hear you. - -SEWARD. - -She has been about a business that must have somewhat shook her -nerves--granting them to be of iron. She would herself have murdered -Duncan had he not resembled her Father as he slept; and on sudden -discernment of that dreadful resemblance, her soul must have shuddered, -if her body served her to stagger away from parricide. On the deed -being done, she is terrified after a different manner from the doer of -the deed; but her terror is as great; and though she says-- - - "The sleeping and the dead - Are but as pictures--'tis the eye of childhood - That fears a painted Devil--" - -believe me that her face was like ashes, as she returned to the -chamber to gild the faces of the grooms with the dead man's blood. -That knocking, too, alarmed the Lady--believe me--as much as her -husband; and to keep cool and collected before him, so as to be able -to support him at that moment with her advice, must have tried the -utmost strength of her nature. Call her Fiend--she was Woman. Down -stairs she comes--and stands among them all, at first like one alarmed -only--astounded by what she hears--and striving to simulate the -ignorance of the innocent--"What, in our house?" "Too cruel anywhere!" -What she must have suffered then, Shakspeare lets us conceive for -ourselves; and what on her husband's elaborate description of his -inconsiderate additional murders. "The whole is too much for her"--she -"is perplexed in the extreme"--and the sinner swoons. - -NORTH. - -Seward suggests a bold, strong, deep, tragical turn of the scene--that -she faints actually. Well--so be it. I shall say, first, that I think -it a weakness in my favourite; but I will go so far as to add that I -can let it pass for a not unpardonable weakness--the occasion given. -But I must deal otherwise with her biographer. Him I shall hold to -a strict rendering of account. I will know of him what he is about, -and what she is about. If she faints really, and against her will, -having forcible reasons for holding her will clear, she must be shown -fighting to the last effort of will, against the assault of womanly -nature, and drop, vanquished, as one dead, without a sound. But the -Thaness calls out lustily--she remembers, "as we shall make our griefs -and clamours roar upon his death." She makes noise enough--takes -good care to attract everybody's attention to her performance--for -which I commend her. Calculate as nicely as you will--she distracts -or diverts speculation, and makes an interesting and agreeable break -in the conversation.--I think that the obvious meaning is the right -meaning--and _that she faints on purpose_. - -NORTH. - -Decided in favour of Feint. - -BULLER. - -You might have had the good manners to ask for _my_ opinion. - -NORTH. - -I beg a thousand pardons, Buller. - -BULLER. - -A hundred will do, North. In Davies' _Anecdotes of the Stage_, I -remember reading that Garrick would not trust Mrs Pritchard with the -Swoon--and that Macklin thought Mrs Porter alone could have been -endured by the audience. Therefore, by the Great Manager, Lady Macbeth -was not allowed in the Scene to appear at all. His belief was, that -with her Ladyship it was a feint--and that the Gods, aware of that, -unless restrained by profound respect for the actress, would have -_laughed_--as at something rather comic. If the Gods, in Shakspeare's -days, were as the Gods in Garrick's, William, methinks, would not, on -any account, have exposed the Lady to derision at such a time. But I -suspect the Gods of the Globe would not have laughed, whatever they -might have thought of her sincerity, and that she did appear before -them in a Scene from which nothing could account for her absence. She -was not, I verily believe, given to fainting--perhaps this was the -first time she had ever fainted since she was a girl. _Now_ I believe -she did. She would have stood by her husband at all hazards, had she -been able, both on his account and her own; she would not have so -deserted him at such a critical juncture; her character was of boldness -rather than duplicity; her business now--her duty--was to brazen it -out; but she grew sick--qualms of conscience, however terrible, can -be borne by sinners standing upright at the mouth of hell--but the -flesh of man is weak, in its utmost strength, when moulded to woman's -form--other qualms assail suddenly the earthly tenement--the breath is -choked--the "distracted globe" grows dizzy--they that look out of the -windows know not what they see--the body reels, lapses, sinks, and at -full length smites the floor. - -SEWARD. - -Well said--Chairman of the Quarter-sessions. - -BULLER. - -Nor, with all submission, my dear Sir, can I think you treat your -favourite murderess, on this trying occasion, with your usual fairness -and candour. All she says, is, "Help me hence, ho!" Macduff says, "Look -to the Lady"--and Banquo says, "Look to the Lady"--and she is "carried -off." Some critic or other--I think Malone--says that Macbeth shows -he knows "'tis a feint" by not going to her assistance. Perhaps he -was mistaken--know it he could not. And nothing more likely to make a -woman faint than that revelling and wallowing of his in that bloody -description. - -NORTH. - -By the Casting Vote of the President--_Feint_. - -TALBOYS. - -Let's to Lunch. - -NORTH. - -Go. You will find me sitting here when you come back. - - -SCENE II. - -SCENE--_The Pavilion._ TIME--_after Lunch_. - -NORTH--TALBOYS--BULLER--SEWARD. - -NORTH. - -Claudius, the Uncle-king in Hamlet, is perhaps the most odious -character in all Shakspeare. But he does no unnecessary murders. He has -killed the Father, and will the Son, all in regular order. But Macbeth -plunges himself, like a drunken man, into unnecessary and injurious -cruelties. He throws like a reckless gamester. If I am to own the -truth, I don't know why he is so cruel. I don't think that he takes any -pleasure in mere cruelty, like Nero-- - -BULLER. - -What do we know of Nero? Was he mad? - -NORTH. - -I don't think that he takes any pleasure in mere cruelty, like Nero; -but he seems to be under some infatuation that drags or drives him -along. To kill is, in every difficulty, the ready resource that occurs -to him--as if to go on murdering were, by some law of the Universe, the -penalty which you must pay for having once murdered. - -SEWARD. - -I think, Sir, that without contradicting anything we said before Lunch -about his Lordship or his Kingship, we may conceive in the natural -Macbeth considerable force of Moral Intuition. - -NORTH. - -We may. - -SEWARD. - -Of Moral Intelligence? - -NORTH. - -Yes. - -SEWARD. - -Of Moral Obedience? - -NORTH. - -No. - -SEWARD. - -Moral Intuition, and Moral Intelligence breaking out, from time to -time, all through--we understand how there is engendered in him strong -self-dissatisfaction--thence perpetual goadings on--and desperate -attempts to lose conscience in more and more crime. - -NORTH. - -Ay--Seward--even so. He tells you that he stakes soul and body upon the -throw for a Crown. He has got the Crown--and _paid for it_. He _must_ -keep it--else he has bartered soul and body--for nothing! To make his -first crime _good_--he strides gigantically along the road of which it -opened the gate. - -TALBOYS. - -An almost morbid impressibility of imagination is energetically -stamped, and universally recognised in the Thane, and I think, sir, -that it warrants, to a certain extent, a _sincerity_ of the mental -movements. He really sees a fantastical dagger--he really hears -fantastical voices--perhaps he really sees a fantastical Ghost. -All this in him is Nature--not artifice--and a nature deeply, -terribly, tempestuously commoved by the near contact of a murder -imminent--doing--done. It is more like a murderer a-making than a -murderer made. - -SEWARD. - -See, sir, how precisely this characteristic is proposed. - -BULLER. - -By whom? - -SEWARD. - -By Shakspeare, in that first Soliloquy. The poetry colouring, -throughout, his discourse, is its natural efflorescence. - -NORTH. - -Talboys, Seward, you have spoken well. - -BULLER. - -And I have spoken ill? - -NORTH. - -I have not said so. - -BULLER. - -We have all Four of us spoken well--we have all Four of us -spoken ill--and we have all Four of us spoken but so-so--now and -heretofore--in this Tent--hang the wind--there's no hearing twelve -words in ten a body says. Honoured sir, I beg permission to say that I -cannot admit the Canon laid down by your Reverence, an hour or two ago, -or a minute or two ago, that Macbeth's extravagant language is designed -by Shakspeare to designate hypocrisy. - -NORTH. - -Why? - -BULLER. - -You commended Talboys and Seward for noticing the imaginative--the -poetical character of Macbeth's mind. There we find the reason of his -extravagant language. It may, as you said, be cant and fustian--or it -may not--but why attribute to hypocrisy--as you did--what may have -flowed from his genius? Poets may rant as loud as he, and yet be honest -men. "In a fine frenzy rolling," their eyes may fasten on fustian. - -NORTH. - -Good--go on. Deduct. - -BULLER. - -Besides, sir, the Stage had such a language of its own; and I cannot -help thinking that Shakspeare often, and too frankly, gave in to it. - -NORTH. - -He did. - -BULLER. - -I would, however, much rather believe that if Shakspeare meant anything -by it in Macbeth's Oratory or Poetry, he intended thereby rather to -impress on us that last noticed constituent of his nature--a vehement -seizure of imagination. I believe, sir, that in the hortatory scene -Lady Macbeth really vanquishes--as the scene ostensibly shows--his -_ir_resolution. And if Shakspeare means _ir_resolution, I do not know -why the _grounds_ thereof which Shakspeare assigns to Macbeth should -not be accepted as the true grounds. The Dramatist would seem to me to -demand too much of me, if, _under_ the grounds which he expresses, he -requires me to discard these, and to discover and express others. - -SEWARD. - -I do not know, sir, if that horrible Invocation of _hers_ to the -Spirits of Murder to unsex her, be held by many to imply that she has -no need of their help? - -NORTH. - -It is held by many to prove that she was not a woman but a fiend. It -proves the reverse. I infer from it that she does need their help--and, -what is more, _that she gets it_. Nothing so dreadful, in the whole -range of Man's Tragic Drama, as that Murder. But I see Seward is -growing pale--we know his infirmity--and for the present shun it. - -SEWARD. - -Thank you, sir. - -NORTH. - -I may, however, ask a question about Banquo's Ghost. - -SEWARD. - -Well--well--do so. - -TALBOYS. - -You put the question to me, sir? I am inclined to think, sir, that no -real Ghost sits on the Stool--but that Shakspeare meant it as with the -Daggers. On the Stage he appears--that is an abuse. - -NORTH. - -Not so sure of that, Talboys. - -TALBOYS. - -Had Macbeth himself continued to believe that the first-seen Ghost was -a real Ghost, he would not, could not have ventured so soon after its -disappearance to say again, "And to our dear friend Banquo." He does -say it--and then again diseased imagination assails him at the rash -words. Lady Macbeth reasons with him again, and he finally is persuaded -that the Ghost, both times, had been but brain-sick creations. - - "My strange and self-abuse - Is the initiate fear, that wants hard use:-- - I am but young in deed." - -BULLER. - -That certainly looks as if he did then know he had been deceived. But -perhaps he only censures himself for being too much agitated by a real -ghost. - -TALBOYS. - -That won't do. - -NORTH. - -But go back, my dear Talboys, to the first enacting of the Play. What -could the audience have understood to be happening, without other -direction of their thoughts than the terrified Macbeth's bewildered -words? He never mentions Banquo's name--and recollect that nobody -sitting there then knew that Banquo had been murdered. The dagger is -not in point. Then the spectators heard him say, "Is this a dagger that -I see before me?" And if no dagger was there, they could at once see -that 'twas phantasy. - -TALBOYS. - -Something in that. - -BULLER. - -A settler. - -NORTH. - -I entirely separate the two questions--first, how did the Manager of -the Globe Theatre have the King's Seat at the Feast filled; and second, -what does the highest poetical Canon deliver. I speak now, but to the -first. Now, here the rule is--"the audience _must understand, and at -once_, what that which they see and hear means"--that Rule must govern -the art of the drama in the Manager's practice. You allow that, Talboys? - -TALBOYS. - -I do. - -BULLER. - -Rash--Talboys--rash: he's getting you into a net. - -NORTH. - -That is not my way, Buller. Well, then, suppose Macbeth acted for the -first time to an audience, who are to establish it for a stock-play or -to _damn it_. Would the Manager commit the whole power of a scene which -is perhaps the most--singly--effective of the whole Play-- - -BULLER. - -No--no--not the most effective of the whole Play-- - -NORTH. - -The rival, then, of the Murder Scene--the Sleep-Walking stands aloof -and aloft--to the chance of a true divination by the whole Globe -audience? I think not. The argument is of a vulgar tone, I confess, and -extremely literal, but it is after the measure of my poor faculties. - -SEWARD. - -In confirmation of what you say, sir, it has been lately asserted that -one of the two appearings at least is not Banquo's--but Duncan's. How -is that to be settled but by a real Ghost--or Ghosts? - -NORTH. - -And I ask, what has Shakspeare himself undeniably done elsewhere? In -Henry VIII., Queen Katherine sleeps and _dreams_. Her Dream enters, -and performs various acts--somewhat expressive--minutely contrived and -prescribed. It is a mute Dream, which she with shut eyes sees--which -you in pit, boxes, and gallery see--which her attendants, watching -about her upon the stage, do _not_ see. - -SEWARD. - -And in Richard III--He dreams, and so does Richmond. Eight Ghosts rise -in succession and _speak_ to Richard first, and to the Earl next--each -hears, I suppose, what concerns himself--they seem to be present in the -two Tents at once. - -NORTH. - -In Cymbeline, Posthumus dreams. His Dream enters--Ghosts and even -JUPITER! They act and speak; and this Dream has a reality--for Jupiter -hands or tosses a parchment-roll to one of the Ghosts, who lays it, as -bidden, on the breast of the Dreamer, where he, on awaking, perceives -it! I call all this physically strong, sir, for the representation of -the metaphysically thought. - -BULLER. - -If Buller may speak, Buller would observe, that once or twice both -Ariel and Prospero come forward "invisible." And in Spenser, the Dream -of which Morpheus lends the use to Archimago, is--carried. - -SEWARD. - -We all remember the Dream which Jupiter sends to Agamemnon, and which, -while standing at his bed's-head, puts on the shape of Nestor and -speaks;--the Ghost of Patroclus--the actual Ghost which stands at the -bed's-head of Achilles, and _is_ his Dream. - -NORTH. - -My friends, Poetry gives a body to the bodiless. The Stage of -Shakspeare was rude, and gross. In my boyhood, I saw the Ghosts appear -to John Kemble in Richard III. Now they may be abolished with Banquo. -So may be Queen Katherine's Angels. But Shakspeare and his Audience -had no difficulty about one person's seeing what another does not--or -one's _not_ seeing, rather, that which another does. Nor had Homer, -when Achilles alone, in the Quarrel Scene, sees Minerva. Shakspeare -and his Audience had no difficulty about the bodily representation of -Thoughts--the inward by the outward. Shakspeare and the Great Old Poets -leave vague, shadowy, mist-shrouded, and indeterminate the boundaries -between the Thought and the Existent--the Real and the Unreal. I am -able to believe with you, Talboys, that Banquo's Ghost was understood -by Shakspeare, the Poet, to be the Phantasm of the murderer's -guilt-and-fear-shaken soul; but was required by Shakspeare, the Manager -of the Globe Theatre, to rise up through a trap-door, mealy-faced and -blood-boultered, and so make "the Table full." - -BULLER. - -Seward, do bid him speak of Lady Macbeth. - -SEWARD. - -Oblige me, sir--don't now--after dinner, if you will. - -NORTH. - -I shall merely allude now, as exceedingly poetical treatment, to the -discretion throughout used in the SHOWING of Lady Macbeth. You might -almost say that she never takes a step on the stage, that does not -_thrill the Theatre_. Not a waste word, gesture, or look. All at the -studied fulness of sublime tragical power--yet all wonderfully tempered -and governed. I doubt if Shakspeare could have given a good account of -everything that he makes Macbeth say--but of all that She says he could. - -TALBOYS. - -As far as I am able to judge, she but once in the whole Play loses her -perfect self-mastery--when the servant surprises her by announcing the -King's coming. She answers, 'thou'rt mad to say it;' which is a manner -of speaking used by those who cannot, or can hardly believe tidings -that fill them with exceeding joy. It is not the manner of a Lady -to her servant who unexpectedly announces the arrival of a high--of -the highest visitor. She recovers herself instantly. 'Is not thy -master with him, who, wer't so, would have informed for preparation?' -This is a turn colouring her exclamation, and is spoken in the most -self-possessed, argumentative, demonstrative tone. The preceding words -had been torn from her; now she has passed, with inimitable dexterity, -from the dreamed Queen, to the usual mistress of her household--_to the -huswife_. - -NORTH. - -In the Fourth Act--she is not seen at all. But in the Fifth, lo! and -behold! and at once we know why she had been absent--we see and are -turned to living stone by the revelation of the terrible truth. I -am always inclined to conceive Lady Macbeth's night-walking as the -summit, or topmost peak of all tragic conception and execution--in -Prose, too, the crowning of Poetry! But it must be, because these are -the _ipsissima verba_--yea, the escaping sighs and moans of the bared -soul. There must be nothing, not even the thin and translucent veil -of the verse, betwixt her soul showing itself, and yours beholding. -Words which your "hearing latches" from the threefold abyss of Night, -Sleep, and Conscience! What place for the enchantment of any music -is here? Besides, she speaks in a whisper. The Siddons did--audible -distinctly, throughout the stilled immense theatre. Here music is -not--sound is not--only an anguished soul's faint breathings--gaspings. -And observe that Lady Macbeth carries--a candle--besides washing her -hands--and besides speaking prose--three departures from the severe -and elect method, to bring out that supreme revelation. I have been -told that the great Mrs Pritchard used to touch the palm with the tips -of her fingers, for the washing, keeping candle in hand;--that the -Siddons first set down her candle, that she might come forwards, and -wash her hands in earnest, one over the other, as if she were at her -wash-hand stand, with plenty of water in her basin--that when Sheridan -got intelligence of her design so to do, he ran shrieking to her, and, -with tears in his eyes, besought that she would not, at one stroke, -overthrow Drury Lane--that she persisted, and turned the thousands of -bosoms to marble. - -TALBOYS. - -Our dear, dear Master. - -NORTH. - -You will remember, my friends, her _four rhymed lines_--uttered to -herself in Act Third. They are very remarkable-- - - "Nought's had, all's spent, - Where our desire is got without content: - 'Tis safer to be that which we destroy, - Than, by destruction, dwell in doubtful joy." - -They are her only _waking_ acknowledgments of having _mis_taken life! -So--they forebode the Sleep-Walking, and the Death--as an owl, or a -raven, or vulture, or any fowl of obscene wing, might flit between the -sun and a crowned but doomed head--the shadow but of a moment, yet -ominous, for the augur, of an entire fatal catastrophe. - -SEWARD. - -They do. But to say the truth, I had either forgot them, or never -discovered their significancy. O that William Shakspeare! - -TALBOYS. - -O that Christopher North! - -NORTH. - -Speak so, friends--'tis absurd, but I like it. - -TALBOYS. - -It is sincere. - -NORTH. - -At last they call him "black Macbeth," and "this dead Butcher." And -with good reason. They also call her "his fiend-like Queen," which last -expression I regard as highly offensive. - -BULLER. - -And they call her so not without strong reason. - -NORTH. - -A bold, bad woman--not a Fiend. I ask--Did she, or did she not, "with -violent hand foredo her life?" They mention it as a rumour. The Doctor -desires that all means of self-harm may be kept out of her way. Yet -the impression on us, as the thing proceeds, is, that she dies of pure -remorse--which I believe. She is _visibly dying_. The cry of women, -announcing her death, is rather as of those who stood around the bed -watching, and when the heart at the touch of the invisible finger -stops, shriek--than of one after the other coming in and finding -the self-slain--a confused, informal, perplexing, and perplexed -proceeding--but the Cry of Women is formal, regular for the stated -occasion. You may say, indeed, that she poisoned herself--and so died -in bed--watched. Under the precautions, that is unlikely--too refined. -The manner of Seyton, "The Queen, my Lord, is dead," shows to me that -it was hourly expected. How these few words would _seek_ into you, did -you first read the Play in mature age! She died a natural death--of -remorse. Take my word for it--the rumour to the contrary was natural to -the lip and ear of Hate. - -TALBOYS. - -A question of primary import is--What is the relation of feeling -between him and her? The natural impression, I think, is, that the -confiding affection--the intimate confidence--is "there"--of a husband -and wife who love one another--to whom all interests are in common, -and are consulted in common. Without this belief, the Magic of the -Tragedy perishes--vanishes to me. "My dearest love, Duncan comes -here to-night." "Be innocent of the knowledge, _dearest Chuck_"--a -marvellous phrase for Melpomene. It is the full union--for ill -purposes--that we know habitually for good purposes--that to me tempers -the Murder Tragedy. - -NORTH. - -Yet believe me, my dear Talboys--that of all the murders Macbeth may -have committed, she knew beforehand but of ONE--Duncan's. The haunted -somnambulist speaks the truth--the whole truth, and nothing but the -truth. - -TALBOYS. - -"The Thane of Fife had a Wife." Does not that imply that she was privy -to _that_ Murder? - -NORTH. - -No. Except that she takes upon herself _all_ the murders that are the -offspring, legitimate or illegitimate, of that First Murder. But we -_know_ that Macbeth, in a sudden fit of fury, ordered the Macduffs to -be massacred when on leaving the Cave Lenox told him of the Thane's -flight. - -TALBOYS. - -That is decisive. - -NORTH. - -A woman, she feels for a murdered woman. That is all--a touch of -nature--from Shakspeare's profound and pitiful heart. - -TALBOYS. - -"The Queen, my lord, is dead." "She should have died hereafter; There -would have been a time for such a word"--Often have I meditated on the -meaning of these words--yet even now I do not fully feel or understand -them. - -NORTH. - -Nor I. This seems to look from them--"so pressed by outward besiegings, -I have not capacity to entertain the blow as it requires to be -entertained. With a free soul I could have measured it. Now I cannot." - -TALBOYS. - -Give us, sir, a commentary on the Revelations of the Sleeping Spectre. - -NORTH. - -I dare not. Let's be cheerful. I ask this--when you see and hear -Kemble-Macbeth--and Siddons-Macbeth--whom do you believe that you see -and hear? I affirm that you at one and the same instant--(or at the -most in two immediately successive instants--yet I believe in one and -the same instant)--_know_ that you see and hear Kemble--or if that -accomplished gentleman and admirable actor--Macready be performing the -part--then Macready;--and yet _believe_ that you see and hear Lord -Macbeth. I aver that you entertain a mixt--confused--self-contradictory -state of mind--that two elements of thought which cannot co-subsist do -co-subsist. - -TALBOYS. - -_De jure_ they cannot--DE FACTO they do. - -NORTH. - -Just so. - -TALBOYS. - -They co-subsist fighting, and yet harmonising--there is -half-belief--semi-illusion. - -NORTH. - -I claim the acknowledgment of such a state--which any one who chooses -may better describe, but which shall come to that effect--for the -lowest substratum of all science and criticism concerning POESY. Will -anybody grant me this, then I will reason with him about Poesy, for we -begin with something in common. Will anybody deny me this, then I will -not argue with him about Poesy, for we set out with nothing in common. - -BULLER. - -We grant you all you ask--we are all agreed--"our unanimity is -wonderful." - -NORTH. - -Leave out the great Brother and Sister, and take the Personated alone. -I _know_ that Othello and Desdemona never existed--that an Italian -Novelist began, and an English Dramatist ended them--and there they -are. But do I not _believe_ in their existence, "their loves and woes?" -Yes I do _believe_ in their existence, in their loves and woes--and I -hate Iago accordingly with a vicious, unchristian, personal, active, -malignant hatred. - -TALBOYS. - -Dr Johnson's celebrated expression, "all the belief that Poetry -claims"---- - -BULLER. - -Celebrated! Where is it? - -TALBOYS. - -Preface to Shakspeare--is idle, and frivolous, and false? - -NORTH. - -It is. He belies his own experience. He cannot make up his mind to -admit the _irrational thought_ of belief which you at once reject -and accept. But exactly the half acceptance, and the half rejection, -separates poetry from--prose. - -TALBOYS. - -That is, sir, the poetical from the prosaic. - -NORTH. - -Just so. It is the life and soul of all poetry--the lusus--the -make-believe--the glamour and the gramarye. I do not know--gentlemen--I -wish to be told, whether I am now throwing away words upon the setting -up of a pyramid which was built by Cheops, and is only here and there -crumbling a little, or whether the world requires that the position -shall be formally argued and acknowledged. Johnson, as you reminded me, -Talboys, did not admit it. - -TALBOYS. - -That he tells us in so many words. Has any more versed and -profound master in criticism, before or since, authentically and -authoritatively, luminously, cogently, explicitly, psychologically, -metaphysically, physiologically, psychologically, propounded, reasoned -out, legislated, and enthroned the Dogma? - -NORTH. - -I know not, Talboys. Do you admit the Dogma? - -TALBOYS. - -I do. - -NORTH. - -Impersonation--Apostrophe--of the absent; every poetical motion of -the Soul; the whole pathetic beholding of Nature--involve the secret -existence and necessity of this irrational psychical state for -grounding the Logic of Poesy. - -BULLER. - -Go on, sir. - -NORTH. - -I will--but in a new direction. Before everything else, I desire, for -the settlement of this particular question, a foundation for, and some -progress in the science of MURDER TRAGEDIES. - -SEWARD. - -I know _properly_ two. - -BULLER. - -Two only? Pray name. - -SEWARD. - -This of Macbeth and Richard III. - -BULLER. - -The Agamemnon--the Choephoræ--the Electra--the Medea-- - -SEWARD. - -In the Agamemnon, your regard is drawn to Agamemnon himself and to -Cassandra. However, it is after a measure a prototype. Clytemnestra -has in it a principality. Medea stands eminent--but then she is in the -right. - -BULLER. - -In the right? - -SEWARD. - -Jason at least is altogether in the wrong. But we must--for obvious -reasons--discuss the Greek drama by itself; therefore not a word more -about it now. - -NORTH. - -Richard III., and Macbeth and his wife, are in their Plays the -principal people. You must go along with them to a certain guarded -extent--else the Play is done for. To be kept abhorring and abhorring, -for Five Acts together, you can't stand. - -SEWARD. - -Oh! that the difference between Poetry and Life were once for all -set down--and not only once for all, but every time that it comes in -question. - -BULLER. - -My dear sir, do gratify Seward's very reasonable desire, and once for -all set down the difference. - -SEWARD. - -You bear suicides on the stage, and tyrannicides and other cides--all -simple homicide--much murder. Even Romeo's killing Tybalt in the -street, in reparation for Mercutio's death, you would take rather -differently, if happening to-day in Pall Mall, or Moray Place. - -NORTH. - -We have assuredly for the Stage a qualified scheme of -sentiment--grounded no doubt on our modern or every-day morality--but -specifically modified by Imagination--by Poetry--for the use of the -dramatist. Till we have set down what we _do_ bear, and why, we are not -prepared for distinguishing what we won't bear, and why. - -BULLER. - -Oracular! - -SEWARD. - -Suggestive. - -NORTH. - -And if so, sufficient for the nonce. Hamlet's uncle, Claudius, seems -to me to be the most that can be borne of one purely abhorrible. He -is made disgusting besides--drunken and foul. Able he is--for he won -the Queen by "witchcraft of his wit;" but he is made endurable by his -diminished proportion in the Play--many others overpowering and hiding -him. - -BULLER. - -Pardon me, sir, but I have occasionally felt, in course of this -conversation, that you were seeking--in opposition to Payne Knight--to -reduce Macbeth to a species of Claudius. I agree with you in thinking -that Shakspeare would not give a Claudius so large a proportion of his -drama. The pain would be predominant and insupportable. - -NORTH. - -I would fain hope you have misunderstood me, Buller. - -BULLER. - -Sometimes, sir, it is not easy for a plain man to know what you would -be at. - -NORTH. - -I? - -BULLER. - -Yea--you. - -NORTH. - -Richard III. _is_ a hypocrite--a hard, cold murderer from of old--and -yet you bear him. I suppose, friends, chiefly from his pre-eminent -Intellectual Faculties, and his perfectly courageous and self-possessed -Will. You do support your conscience--or traffic with it--by saying -all along--we are only conducting him to the retribution of Bosworth -Field. But, friends, if these motions in Macbeth, which look like -revealings and breathings of some better elements, are sheer and vile -hypocrisy--if it is merely his manhood that quails, which his wife -has to virilify--a dastard and a hypocrite, and no more--I cannot -abide him--there is too much of a bad business, and then I must think -Shakspeare has committed an egregious error in Poetry. Richard III. is -a bold, heroic hypocrite. He knows he is one. He lies to Man--never to -his own Conscience, or to Heaven. - -TALBOYS. - -What? - -NORTH. - -Never. There he is clear-sighted, and stands, like Satan, in open and -impious rebellion. - -BULLER. - -But your Macbeth, sir, would be a shuffling Puritan--a mixture of Holy -Willie and Greenacre. Forgive me---- - -SEWARD. - -Order--order--order. - -TALBOYS. - -Chair--chair--chair. - -BULLER. - -Swing--Swing--Swing. - -NORTH. - -My dear Buller--you have misunderstood me--I assure you you have. Some -of my expressions may have been too strong--not sufficiently qualified. - -BULLER. - -I accept the explanation. But be more guarded in future, my dear sir. - -NORTH. - -I will. - -BULLER. - -On that assurance I ask you, sir, how is the Tragedy of Macbeth morally -saved? That is, how does the degree of complacency with which we -consider the two murderers not morally taint ourselves--not leave us -predisposed murderers? - -NORTH. - -That is a question of infinite compass and fathom--answered then only -when the whole Theory of Poesy has been expounded. - -BULLER. - -Whew! - -NORTH. - -The difference established between our contemplation of the Stage and -of Life. - -BULLER. - -I hardly expect that to be done this Summer in this Tent. - -NORTH. - -Friends! Utilitarians and Religionists shudder and shun. They consider -the Stage and Life as of one and the same kind--look on both through -one glass. - -BULLER. - -Eh? - -NORTH. - -The Utilitarian will settle the whole question of Life upon half its -data--the lowest half. He accepts Agriculture, which he understands -logically--but rejects Imagination, which he does not understand at -all--because, if you sow it in the track of his plough, no wheat -springs. Assuredly not; a different plough must furrow a different soil -for that seed and that harvest. - -BULLER. - -Now, my dear sir, you speak like yourself. You always do so--the -rashness was all on my side. - -SEWARD. - -Nobody cares--hold your tongue. - -NORTH. - -The Religionist errs from the opposite quarter. He brings measures -from Heaven to measure things of the Earth. He weighs Clay in the -balance of Spirit. I call him a Religionist who overruns with religious -rules and conceptions things that do not come under them--completely -distinct from the native simplicity and sovereignty of Religion in a -piously religious heart. Both of them are confounders of the sciences -which investigate the Facts and the Laws of Nature, visible and -invisible--subduing inquiry under preconception. - -BULLER. - -Was that the Gong--or but thunder? - -NORTH. - -The Gong. - -TALBOYS. - -I smell sea-trout. - - -SCENE III. - -SCENE--_Deeside_. TIME--_after Dinner_. - -NORTH--BULLER--SEWARD--TALBOYS. - -NORTH. - -One hour more--and no more--to Shakspeare. - -BULLER. - -May we crack nuts? - -NORTH. - -By all means. And here they are for you to crack. - -BULLER. - -Now for some of your _astounding Discoveries_. - -NORTH. - -If you gather the Movement, scene by scene, of the Action of this -Drama, you see a few weeks, or it may be months. There must be time -to hear that Malcolm and his brother have reached England and -Ireland--time for the King of England to interest himself in behalf of -Malcolm, and muster his array. More than this seems unrequired. But -the zenith of tyranny to which Macbeth has arrived, and particularly -the manner of describing the desolation of Scotland by the speakers -in England, conveys to you the notion of a long, long dismal reign. -Of old it always used to do so with me; so that when I came to visit -the question of the Time, I felt myself as if baffled and puzzled, not -finding the time I had looked for, demonstrable. Samuel Johnson has had -the same impression, but has not scrutinised the data. He goes probably -by the old Chronicler for the actual time, and this, one would think, -must have floated before Shakspeare's own mind. - -TALBOYS. - -Nobody can read the Scenes in England without seeing long-protracted -time. - - "_Malcolm._ Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there - Weep our sad bosoms empty. - - _Macduff._ Let us rather - Hold fast the mortal sword, and, like good men, - Bestride our down-fallen birthdom: Each new morn, - New widows howl; new orphans cry; new sorrows - Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds - As if it felt with Scotland, and yell'd out - Like syllable of dolour." - -NORTH. - -Ay, Talboys, that is true Shakspeare. No Poet--before or since--has in -so few words presented such a picture. No poet, before or since, has -used _such_ words. He writes like a man inspired. - -TALBOYS. - -And in the same dialogue Malcolm says-- - - "I think our country sinks beneath the yoke; - It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash - Is added to her wounds." - -NORTH. - -Go on, my dear Talboys. Your memory is a treasury of all the highest -Poetry of Shakspeare. Go on. - -TALBOYS. - -And hear Rosse, on his joining Malcolm and Macduff in this scene, the -latest arrival from Scotland:-- - - "_Macduff._ Stands Scotland where it did? - - _Rosse._ Alas, poor country! - Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot - Be call'd our mother, but our grave: where nothing, - But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile; - Where sighs and groans, and shrieks that rent the air, - Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow seems - A modern ecstasy; the dead man's knell - Is there scarce ask'd, for who; and good men's lives - Expire before the flowers in their caps, - Dying, or ere they sicken." - -NORTH. - -Words known to all the world, yet coming on the ear of each individual -listener with force unweaken'd by familiarity, power increased by -repetition, as it will be over all Scottish breasts _in secula -seculorum_. - -TALBOYS. - -By Heavens! he smiles! There is a sarcastic smile on that -incomprehensible face of yours, sir--of which no man in this Tent, I am -sure, may divine the reason. - -NORTH. - -I was not aware of it. Now, my dear Talboys, let us here endeavour -to ascertain Shakspeare's Time. Here we have long time with a -vengeance--_and here we have short time_; FOR THIS IS THE PICTURE OF -THE STATE OF POOR SCOTLAND BEFORE THE MURDER OF MACDUFF'S WIFE AND -CHILDREN. - -BULLER. - -What? - -SEWARD. - -Eh? - -NORTH. - -Macduff, moved by Rosse's words, asks him, you know, Talboys, "how does -my wife?" And then ensues the affecting account of her murder, which -you need not recite. Now, I ask, when was the murder of Lady Macduff -perpetrated? Two days--certainly not more--after the murder of Banquo. -Macbeth, incensed by the flight of Fleance, goes, the morning after -the murder of Banquo, to the Weirds, to know by "the worst means, the -worst." You know what they showed him--and that, as they vanished, he -exclaimed-- - - "Where are they? Gone?--Let this pernicious hour - Stand aye accursed in the calendar!-- - Come in, without there! - - _Enter_ LENOX. - - _Len._ What's your grace's will? - - _Macb._ Saw you the weird sisters? - - _Len._ No, my lord. - - _Macb._ Came they not by you? - - _Len._ No, indeed, my lord. - - _Macb._ Infected be the air whereon they ride; - And damn'd all those that trust them!--I did hear - The galloping of horse: Who was't came by? - - _Len._ 'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word, - MACDUFF IS FLED TO ENGLAND. - - _Macb._ Fled to England? - - _Len._ Ay, my good lord. - - _Macb._ Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits: - The flighty purpose never is o'ertook, - Unless the deed go with it: from this moment, - The very firstlings of my heart shall be - The firstlings of my hand. And even now - To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done: - The castle of Macduff I will surprise; - Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o' the sword - His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls - That trace his line. No boasting like a fool: - This deed I'll do, before this purpose cool." - -And his purpose does not cool--for the whole Family are murdered. When, -then, took place the murder of Banquo? Why, a week or two after the -Murder of Duncan. A very short time indeed, then, intervened between -the first and the last of these Murders. And yet from those pictures -of Scotland, painted in England for our information and horror, we -have before us a long, long time, all filled up with butchery over -all the land! But I say there had been no such butchery--or anything -resembling it. There was, as yet, little amiss with Scotland. Look at -the _linking_ of Acts II. and III. End of Act II., Macbeth is gone -to Scone--to be invested. Beginning of Act III., Banquo says, in -soliloquy, in Palace of Fores, "Thou hast it _now_." I ask, when is -_this_ NOW? Assuredly just after the Coronation. The Court was moved -from Scone to Fores, which, we may gather from finding Duncan there -formerly, to be the usual Royal Residence. "Enter Macbeth as King." -"Our great Feast"--our "solemn Supper"--"this day's Council"--all have -the aspect of new taking on the style of Royalty. "Thou hast it NOW," -is formal--weighed--and in a position that gives it authority--at the -very beginning of an Act--therefore intended to mark time--a very -pointing of the finger on the dial. - -BULLER. - -Good image--short and apt. - -TALBOYS. - -Let me perpend. - -BULLER. - -Do, sir, let him perpend. - -NORTH. - -Banquo _fears_ "Thou play'dst most foully for it;" he goes no -farther--not a word of any tyranny done. All the style of an incipient, -_dangerous_ Rule--clouds, but no red rain yet. And I need not point -out to you, Talboys, who carry Shakspeare unnecessarily in a secret -pocket of that strange Sporting Jacket, which the more I look at it -the greater is my wonder--that Macbeth's behaviour at the Banquet, on -seeing Banquo nodding at him from his own stool, proves him to have -been _then_ young in blood. - - "My strange and self-abuse - Is the initiate fear that wants hard use. - We are yet but young in deed." - -He had a week or two before committed a first-rate murder, -Duncan's--that night he had, by hired hands, got a second-rate job -done, Banquo's--and the day following he gave orders for a bloody -business on a more extended scale, the Macduffs. But nothing here -the least like Rosse's, or Macduff's, or Malcolm's Picture of -Scotland--during those few weeks. For Shakspeare forgot what the true -time was--his own time--_the short time_; and introduced _long time -at the same time_--why, he himself no doubt knew--and you no doubt, -Talboys, know also--and will you have the goodness to tell the "why" to -the Tent? - -TALBOYS. - -In ten minutes. Are you done? - -NORTH. - -Not quite. Meanwhile--Two Clocks are going at once--which of the two -gives the true time of Day? - -BULLER. - -Short and apt. Go on, Sir. - -NORTH. - -I call that an ASTOUNDING DISCOVERY. Macduff speaks as if he knew that -Scotland had been for ever so long desolated by the Tyrant--and yet -till Rosse told him, never had he heard of the Murder of his own Wife! -Here Shakspeare either forgot himself wholly, and the short time he had -himself assigned--or, with his eyes open, forced in the _long time_ -upon the _short_--in wilful violation of possibility! All silent? - -TALBOYS. - -After supper--you shall be answered. - -NORTH. - -Not by any man now sitting here--or elsewhere. - -TALBOYS. - -That remains to be heard. - -NORTH. - -Pray, Talboys, explain to me _this_. The Banquet scene breaks up in -most admired disorder--"stand not upon the order of your going--but go -at once,"--quoth the Queen. The King, in a state of great excitement, -says to her-- - - "I will to-morrow, - (Betimes I will,) unto the weird sisters: - More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know, - By the worst means, the worst: for mine own good, - All causes shall give way; I am in blood - Stept in so far, that, should I wade no more, - Returning were as tedious as go o'er." - -One might have thought not quite so tedious; as yet he had murdered -only Duncan and his grooms, and to-night Banquo. Well, he does go -"to-morrow and by times" to the Cave. - - "_Witch._--By the pricking of my thumbs, - Something wicked this way comes: - Open, locks, whoever knocks. - - _Macbeth._--How now, you secret, Black, and midnight Hags?" - -It is a "dark Cave"--dark at all times--and now "by times" of the -morning! Now--observe--Lenox goes along with Macbeth--on such occasions -'tis natural to wish "one of ourselves" to be at hand. And Lenox had -been at the Banquet. Had he gone to bed after that strange Supper? No -doubt, for an hour or two--like the rest of "the Family." But whether -he went to bed or not, _then and there_ he and another Lord had a -confidential and miraculous conversation. - -TALBOYS. - -Miraculous! What's miraculous about it? - -NORTH. - -Lenox says to the other Lord-- - - "_My former speeches_ have but hit your thoughts, - Which can interpret further; only, I say, - Things have been strangely borne: the gracious Duncan - Was pitied of Macbeth--marry he was dead. - _And the right valiant Banquo walked too late; - Whom, you may say, if it please you, Fleance killed, - For Fleance fled._" - -Who told him all this about Banquo and Fleance? He speaks of it -quite familiarly to the "other lord," as a thing well known in all -its bearings. But not a soul but Macbeth, and the Three Murderers -themselves, could possibly have known anything about it! As for Banquo, -"Safe in a ditch he bides,"--and Fleance had fled. The body may, -perhaps in a few days, be found, and, though "with twenty trenched -gashes on its head," identified as Banquo's, and, in a few weeks, -Fleance may turn up in Wales. Nay, the Three Murderers may confess. -But now all is hush; and Lenox, unless endowed with second sight, or -clairvoyance, could know nothing of the murder. Yet, from his way -of speaking of it, one might imagine crowner's 'quest had sitten -on the body--and the report been in the _Times_ between supper and -that after-supper confab! I am overthrown--everted--subverted--the -contradiction is flagrant--the impossibility monstrous--I swoon. - -BULLER. - -Water--water. - -NORTH. - -Thank you, Buller. That's revivifying--I see now all objects -distinctly. Where was I? O, ay. The "other Lord" seems as warlock-wise -as Lenox--for he looks forward to times when - - "We may again - Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights; - _Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives_." - -An allusion, beyond doubt, to the murder of Banquo! A sudden thought -strikes me. Why, not only must the real, actual, spiritual, corporeal -Ghost of Banquo _sate on the stool_, but "Lenox and the other Lord," as -well as Macbeth, _saw him_. - -BULLER. - -Are you serious, sir? - -NORTH. - -So serious that I can scarcely hope to recover my usual spirits to-day. -Have you, gentlemen, among you any more plausible solution to offer? -All mum. One word more with you. Lenox tells the "other Lord" - - "From broad words, and 'cause he fail'd - His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear, - MACDUFF LIVES IN DISGRACE; SIR, CAN YOU TELL - WHERE HE BESTOWS HIMSELF?" - -And the "other Lord," who is wonderfully well informed for a person -"strictly anonymous," replies that Macduff-- - - "Is gone to pray the holy king, (Edward) on his aid - To wake Northumberland, and warlike Siward." - -Nay, he minutely describes Macduff's surly reception of the King's -messenger, sent to invite him to the Banquet, and the happy style of -that official on getting the Thane of Fife's "absolute, Sir, not I," -and D. I. O.! And the same nameless "Lord in waiting" says to Lenox, -that - - "_this report - Hath so exasperate the king, that he - Prepares for some attempt of war_." - -I should like to know first where and when these two gifted individuals -picked up all this information? The king himself had told the Queen, -that same night, that he had _not sent_ to Macduff--but that he had -heard "by the way" that he was not coming to the Banquet--and he only -_learns_ the flight of Macduff after the Cauldron Scene--that is at end -of it:-- - - "_Macbeth._ Come in, without there! - - _Enter Lenox._ - - _Lenox._ What's your Grace's will? - - _Macbeth._ Saw you the Weird Sisters? - - _Lenox._ No, indeed, my Lord. - - _Macbeth._ Infected be the air whereon they ride; - And damn'd all those that trust them!--I did hear - The galloping of horse: Who was't came by? - - _Lenox._ _'Tis two or three, my Lord, that bring you word_, - MACDUFF IS FLED TO ENGLAND. - - _Macbeth._ FLED TO ENGLAND?" - -For an Usurper and Tyrant, his Majesty is singularly ill-informed about -the movements of his most dangerous Thanes! But Lenox, I think, must -have been not a little surprised at that moment to find that, so far -from the _exasperated_ Tyrant having "_prepared for some attempt of -war_" with England--he had not till then positively known that Macduff -had fled! I pause, as a man pauses who has no more to say--not for a -reply. But to be sure, Talboys will reply to anything--and were I to -say that the Moon is made of green cheese, he would say--yellow-- - -TALBOYS. - -If of weeping Parmesan, then I--of the "cheese without a tear"--Double -Gloster. - -NORTH. - -The whole Dialogue between Lenox and the Lord is _miraculous_. It -abounds with knowledge of events that had not happened--and _could -not_ have happened--on the showing of Shakspeare himself; but I do -not believe that there is another man now alive who knows that Lenox -and the "other Lord" are caught up and strangled in that _noose of -Time_. Did the Poet? You would think, from the way they go on, that -one ground of war, one motive of Macduff's going, is the murder of -Banquo--perpetrated since he is gone off! - -TALBOYS. - -Eh? - -NORTH. - -Gentlemen, I have given you a specimen or two of Shakspeare's way of -dealing with Time--and I can elicit no reply. You are one and all -dumbfoundered. What will you be--where will you be--when I-- - -BULLER. - -Have announced "all my astounding discoveries!" and where, also, will -be poor Shakspeare--where his Critics? - -NORTH. - -Friends, Countrymen, and Romans, lend me your ears! A dazzling spell -is upon us that veils from our apprehension all incompatibilities--all -impossibilities--for he dips the Swan-quill in Power--and Power is -that which you must accept from him, and so to the utter oblivion, -while we read or behold, of them all. To go to work with such inquiries -is to try to articulate thunder. What do I intend? That Shakspeare -is only to be _thus_ criticised? Apollo forbid--forbid the Nine! I -intend Prologomena to the Criticism of Shakspeare. I intend mowing -and burning the brambles before ploughing the soil. I intend showing -where we must not look for the Art and the Genius of Shakspeare, as a -step to discovering where we must. I suspect--I know--that Criticism -has oscillated from one extreme to another, in the mind of the -country--from denying all art, to acknowledging consummated art, and no -flaw. I would find the true Point. Stamped and staring upon the front -of these Tragedies is a conflict. He, the Poet, beholds Life--he, the -Poet, is on the Stage. The littleness of the Globe Theatre mixes with -the greatness of human affairs. You think of the Green-room and the -Scene-shifters. I think that when we have stripped away the disguises -and incumbrances of the Power, we shall see, naked, and strong, and -beautiful, the statue moulded by Jupiter. - - -_Printed by William Blackwood and Sons, Edinburgh._ - - - - - - Transcriber's Notes: - - - Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant - preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed. - - Simple typographical and spelling errors were corrected. - - Italics markup is denoted by _underscores_. - - Bold markup is denoted by =equals=. - - Rendered the cypher on p. 559 as Gs over numerals. - - Added anchor for unanchored footnote on p. 567. - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. -66, No 409, November 1849, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE, NOVEMBER 1849 *** - -***** This file should be named 43814-8.txt or 43814-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/8/1/43814/ - -Produced by Brendan OConnor, Richard Tonsing, Jonathan -Ingram and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Library of Early -Journals.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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