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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76979 ***
+
+
+
+
+
+                              BLACKWOOD’S
+                          EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.
+           NO. CCCCLV.      SEPTEMBER, 1853.      VOL. LXXIV.
+
+
+
+
+                               CONTENTS.
+
+
+          SCOTLAND SINCE THE UNION,                       263
+          FOREIGN ESTIMATES OF ENGLAND,                   284
+          NEW READINGS IN SHAKESPEARE.—NO. II.,           303
+          THE DUKE’S DILEMMA: A CHRONICLE OF NIESENSTEIN, 325
+          LADY LEE’S WIDOWHOOD.—PART IX.,                 342
+          CORAL RINGS,                                    360
+          THE AGED DISCIPLE COMFORTING,                   371
+          THE EXTENT AND THE CAUSES OF OUR PROSPERITY,    373
+
+                               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. CCCCLV.      SEPTEMBER, 1853.      VOL. LXXIV.
+
+
+
+
+                      SCOTLAND SINCE THE UNION.[1]
+
+
+Notwithstanding all that has been said regarding the strict impartiality
+required from an historian, we are of opinion that the theory, however
+proper and plausible, can hardly be reduced to practice by any writer
+whilst treating of affairs in which he must feel a national or political
+interest. If facts alone were to be dealt with, it might, at first
+sight, appear no very difficult task to present an accurate and orderly
+array of these. But no one who has had occasion to investigate minutely
+contemporary records, for the purpose of arriving, if possible, at a
+clear and distinct understanding of the details of any one particular
+transaction, can have failed to remark the startling discrepancies and
+gross contradictions which meet him at every turn. There is, indeed, a
+common skeleton or framework, but the clay which is cast around it, and
+moulded into form, differs in shape according to the peculiar instincts
+of the artist. Even diarists, who might be supposed to be impartial, as
+labouring solely for their own gratification, are by no means to be
+implicitly received in regard to what they set down. The many tongues of
+rumour begin to babble contrariety almost as soon as a deed is acted.
+You cannot be certain that the event of yesterday is narrated to you one
+whit more faithfully than that which occurred a hundred years ago. All
+men have their prepossessions and tendencies towards belief—what they
+wish they accept without investigation; and discard with as little
+ceremony all that is obnoxious to their views. Men there are,
+undoubtedly, at all times, who cannot be termed partisans, seeing that
+they have no leaning to one side or other of a dispute; but theirs is
+the impartiality of indifference, not of conscientiousness. And as it
+rarely happens that a man thinks it worth his while to preserve a record
+of events in which he does not feel a vivid interest, history receives
+very little assistance from the contributions of cold-blooded
+spectators. Take any event of moderate remoteness; and, if it be of such
+a nature as to excite party antagonism, you will find, almost
+invariably, that the real evidence is resoluble into two parts—one of
+assertion and one of contradiction. For example, even a circumstance so
+publicly notorious as a political execution, shall be related by two
+eyewitnesses in a totally different manner. One of them, whose opinions
+are precisely identical with those of the victim, describes his bearing
+and demeanour at the scaffold as heroic, and claims for him the sympathy
+of the populace—the other, who regards him as a criminal of the deepest
+dye, charges him with cowardly pusillanimity, and declares that he
+departed from this life amidst the execrations of the mob. As to what
+took place before the execution, when the prisoner was necessarily
+secluded from the eyes of both witnesses, that must ever remain a
+mystery. The friend portrays him as a Christian martyr, surrounded by
+fiends in human shape, whose delight was to insult his misfortunes—the
+enemy would have you look upon him as a poltroon, whose fear of death
+was so abject as to overcome all his other faculties. So difficult is
+it, even at the source, to acquire accurate information as to the
+complexion of the facts upon which subsequent historians must found.
+
+Passing from facts to motives, there is of course much greater
+discrepancy. The grand outlines of history cannot be violently
+distorted, though the accessories constantly are. Certain landmarks
+remain, like mountains, unchangeable in their form, though the
+portraying artist may invest them either with sunshine or with storm.
+But in dealing with the characters of public men, historians are rarely
+liberal, almost never impartial. They judge the man, not only by his
+cause, but by their estimate of his cause. If the tendencies of the
+writer are puritanical, he will see no merit in the devotion, loyalty,
+and courted sufferings of the cavalier; nay, he will often insinuate
+that he was actuated by baser motives. On the other hand, the writer who
+detests the violence and condemns the principles of the Parliamentarian
+faction, is too apt to include, in his general censure, men of
+unblemished life and irreproachable private character. And the
+temptation to exaggerate becomes all the greater, because exaggeration
+has already been practised on the other side.
+
+Mr Burton, in his praiseworthy endeavours to elucidate the history of
+Scotland from the Revolution of 1688, down to the suppression of the
+Jacobite cause in 1746, has exhibited, throughout his work, very little
+of the spirit of the partisan. In this respect he is entitled to much
+credit—the more so perhaps, as, had he chosen to adopt the other course,
+he might have pleaded the example of a brilliant living authority, who
+is rather to be regarded as a fashioner than as a truthful exponent of
+history. His subject, too, is a difficult one, and such as few men
+living could approach without exhibiting a decided bias on one side or
+on the other. In Scotland, religious and political zeal run constantly
+into extremes, so that zealotry perhaps is the more appropriate term.
+There was no considerable neutral party in the country, constituted as
+it then was, to recall the others to reason, or to temper their stern
+enthusiasm; and hence arose that series of conflicts and commotions
+which, for more than a century, convulsed the kingdom. Even now, men are
+not agreed as to the points on which their ancestors disputed. They have
+inherited, concerning the events of the past, a political faith which
+they will not surrender; and the old leaven is seen to affect the
+consistency of modern character. From this sort of party spirit Mr
+Burton is remarkably free. He has diligently collected facts from every
+available source, but he has not allowed himself to be swayed by the
+deductions of previous writers. In forming his estimate of public
+characters, he has dismissed from his mind, as much perhaps as it was
+possible for man to do, the extravagant eulogy of the friend, and the
+indiscriminate abuse of the opponent; and it must be acknowledged that
+many of his individual portraits impress us with the idea of reality,
+though they differ widely in resemblance from the handiwork of other
+artists. A book of history, constructed on such principles, though it
+may not excite enthusiasm, is undeniably entitled to respect; and as Mr
+Burton was eminently qualified, by his previous studies and pursuits, to
+undertake this difficult task, we are glad at length to receive from his
+hands so valuable a contribution to the history of Scottish affairs
+during a period of peculiar importance.
+
+If it were our intention to enter into a minute consideration of the
+subject-matter of the work, we should be inclined to take exception to
+some portions of the narrative, as calculated to convey erroneous
+impressions as to the social state of the country. We have already said
+that, as a political chronicler, Mr Burton may be considered as
+remarkably free from prejudice. We ought to add that he is equally fair
+in his estimate and analysis of the religious differences which were, in
+Scotland, for a long period, the fruitful sources of discord; and that
+he has succeeded, better than any former historian, in explaining the
+nature of the ecclesiastical difficulties which—arising out of the
+intricate question of the connection between Church and State, and the
+efforts of the latter to restrain the former from arrogating, as had
+been done before, an entire and dogmatic independence of action—have
+resulted in repeated secessions from the main Presbyterian body. But we
+cannot accord him the same meed of praise for his sketches of the
+Highlanders, and his attempted delineation of their character. The
+martial events of last century, in which the Highlanders were
+principally engaged, have given them, in the eyes of strangers, a
+prominence greater than is their due; so that, even at the present day,
+Englishmen and foreigners are apt, when reference is made to Scotland,
+to form an entirely mistaken view as to the bulk of the population. Many
+of the present generation must remember the singular spectacle which
+Edinburgh displayed during the visit of George IV., when the tartan
+mania was at its height, and the boundary of the clans seemed to have
+been extended from the Highland line to the Tweed. There was no harm in
+such a demonstration, but it tended to generate and diffuse false ideas;
+which, however, may be corrected without unduly lowering the position of
+the Highlanders, or denying them that consideration which their valour
+undoubtedly deserves. When we remember the materials of which the armies
+of Montrose, Dundee, Mar, and Charles Edward were composed, we should be
+slow to credit the assertion that the Highlanders have played an
+unimportant part in Scottish history; nor can we assent to the sweeping
+propositions advanced by writers who, for years past, have been ringing
+the changes upon what they are pleased to term the superiority of the
+Anglo-Saxon race, over every other sept which has a distinct name, and
+especially over such of the inhabitants of the British Isles as are
+supposed to be of a different descent. Notwithstanding the vast
+intermixture of blood which has taken place, there are undoubtedly
+visible, even at the present day, in so small a country as Scotland,
+very marked peculiarities of race; but, without descending to the minute
+distinctions of the antiquarian, the Scottish nation has, by popular
+consent, been long divided into two sections, territorially
+separated—the Lowlanders and the Highlanders. Whatever may have been the
+origin of the Lowlanders, it is at all events certain that up to the
+reign of Malcolm III. there were few or no Saxons in the land.
+“Malcolm,” says Hailes, “had passed his youth at the English court; he
+married an Anglo-Saxon princess; he afforded an asylum in his dominions
+to many English and Norman malcontents. The king appeared in public with
+a state and retinue unknown in more rude and simple times, and affected
+to give frequent and sumptuous entertainments to his nobles. The natives
+of Scotland, tenacious of their ancient customs, viewed with disgust the
+introduction of foreign manners, and secretly censured the favour shown
+to the English and Norman adventurers, as proceeding from injurious
+partiality.” Of many important districts on the coasts, the
+Scandinavians acquired and retained possession, and some of the nobility
+and gentry are undoubtedly of Norman descent. But the old names, such as
+those of Douglas, Graham, Ogilvie, and Keith, are indigenous to the
+country, and have no more affinity with the Saxon than they have with
+the Hungarian race. Alexander III.—whose accidental death at Kinghorn
+led to the nefarious attempts of the English Edward upon the liberties
+of a free nation—was the last of a long line of Celtic monarchs, in
+whom, however, it is not now the fashion for our petty virtuosos to
+believe. That descent, which tradition had preserved from times of the
+remotest antiquity—which was referred to as acknowledged fact in the
+public acts of the legislature and official documents of the
+kingdom—which was not refuted nor denied when advanced as a plea against
+the pretended right of suzerainty asserted for the English crown—which
+such men as Fletcher and Belhaven cited in the course of their arguments
+against an entire incorporating union—is sneered at by modern
+antiquaries who have nothing to substitute for the faith which they seek
+to overthrow. Indeed, to call such gentlemen antiquaries, is a direct
+abuse of language. Scriblerus, we are told, flew into a violent passion
+when, by dint of unnecessary scouring, his handmaid demonstrated that
+the ancient buckler in which he prided himself, was nothing more than a
+rusty pot lid. His successors take the scouring into their own hands,
+and deny the possibility of a buckler. Our present business, however, is
+not with the pseudo-antiquaries—for whom we entertain a sentiment
+bordering very closely upon contempt—we simply wish to show that the
+term Saxon, as applied to the Scottish Lowlanders, is altogether
+inappropriate; and that, if there is any remarkable degree of energy in
+their character which distinguishes them from the Highlanders, it does
+not, at all events, arise from a superabundant infusion of the
+Anglo-Saxon blood. Energy, indeed, is about the last quality that can be
+claimed for the Saxons. They were brave, no doubt, but also intensely
+phlegmatic; and, in point of intellect, were not to be compared either
+to the Normans or the Danes. They were smally endowed with that
+imaginative faculty which is so remarkable a characteristic of the
+Celtic race—displayed but little aptitude for proficiency in the
+arts—and in all matters of taste and cultivation were exceedingly slow
+and unimpressible.
+
+Owing to the peculiar nature of the country in which they were located,
+and to their obstinate adherence to the patriarchal, as opposed to the
+feudal system, the Highlanders retained not only their speech but their
+original manners and customs, while the Lowlanders were gradually
+altering theirs. Thus there came to be, within the same country, and
+nominally owing allegiance to the same sovereign, two great sections
+which held but little intercourse with each other. Still they were both
+Scots, and gathered round the same standard. At Bannockburn and at
+Flodden, the Highland chief and clansman fought alongside of the Lowland
+knight and man-at-arms; and some of the most powerful heads of tribes
+stood high in the roll of the nobility. In this way the Highland
+influence, important on account of the warlike material which it
+commanded, was always more or less powerfully represented at the court
+of Scotland; and although the southern population generally saw little,
+and knew less, of their northern neighbours, it is not true that there
+existed between them a feeling of strong animosity. Raids and reprisals
+there were undoubtedly; but these were common from Caithness to the
+border. The strife was not always between the tartan and the broadcloth.
+Scotts and Kerrs, Johnstones and Maxwells, fought and harried one
+another with as much ferocity as did the Campbells, Macdonalds, and
+M‘Leans in their mountain country; nor, if we are to trust contemporary
+accounts, is it very clear that the former were decidedly superior in
+civilisation to the latter.
+
+Mr Burton, we think, has not done full justice to the Highland
+character. Whatever may be thought of the abstract merits of the cause
+which they espoused, the resolute adherence of the Highland clans to the
+exiled family, the surprising efforts which they made, and sufferings
+which they endured in the last memorable outbreak, must ever command our
+sympathy, and excite our warm admiration. Surely Mr Burton might have
+been contented with narrating the fact that, notwithstanding the reward
+of thirty thousand pounds offered for the apprehension of Prince Charles
+Edward, none of the poor Highlanders or outlaws whom he encountered in
+his wanderings would stoop to the treachery of betraying him, without
+suggesting that the amount “was too large for their imagination
+practically to grasp as an available fund”! The same under-current of
+depreciation towards the Highlanders is visible in his account of the
+atrocious massacre of Glencoe, and even in the half-apologetic manner in
+which he palliates, though not excuses, the butcheries of Cumberland
+after the battle of Culloden. It is necessary to note these blemishes,
+the rather because they occur in a work distinguished, in other
+respects, for a high degree of accuracy.
+
+We have the less inclination to enter upon disputed grounds, because the
+points on which we differ from Mr Burton are not of practical moment.
+The political intrigues and risings of the last century have not left
+any permanent effect upon the social condition of the country; but the
+subsequent blending together of the Lowland and Highland population, and
+the establishment throughout the country of a uniform administration of
+the laws, have been productive of the happiest results. So far the
+changes have wrought well within Scotland. But the great event of last
+century undoubtedly is the union between England and Scotland, which,
+often proposed, and long delayed by mutual jealousy and clashing
+interests, has elevated Great Britain to the foremost rank among the
+European states.
+
+That union was carried into effect, not as the result of any sympathy
+between the English and Scottish nations—for antipathy rather than
+sympathy was felt on both sides—but as an absolute political necessity.
+In truth, such an event was an almost inevitable sequel to the union of
+the crowns in the person of one monarch, at least if that arrangement
+was to be maintained; and it could not be long delayed. There is, in
+Lockhart’s Papers, an anecdote which shows how early this was foreseen.
+“We are told,” says he, “that when King James was preparing to go and
+take possession of his crown of England, his subjects of Scotland came
+to take their leave of him, and attend him part of his way thither with
+all the state and magnificence imaginable; but amongst these numerous
+attendants, decked up in their finest apparel, and mounted on their best
+horses, there appeared an old reverend gentleman of Fife, clothed all
+over in the deepest mourning; and being asked why, whilst all were
+contending to appear most gay on such an occasion, he should be so
+singular? ‘Why, truly,’ replied he, ‘there is none of you congratulate
+His Majesty’s good fortune more than I do, and here I am to perform my
+duty to him. I have often marched this road, and entered England in an
+hostile manner, and then I was as well accoutered in clothes, horses,
+and arms, as my neighbours, and suitable to the occasion; but since I
+look upon this procession as Scotland’s funeral solemnity, I’m come to
+perform my last duty to my deceased and beloved country, with a heart
+full of grief, and in a dress correspondent thereto.’ This gentleman, it
+seems, foresaw that, by the removal of the king’s residence from
+Scotland, the subject wanted an occasion of making so immediate an
+application to the fountain of justice, and the state of the nation
+could not be so well understood by the king; so that the interest and
+concerns of every particular person, and likewise of the nation in
+general, would be committed to the care of the ministers of state, who,
+acting with a view to themselves, could not fail to oppress the people.
+He foresaw that England, being a greater kingdom, made (as said Henry
+VII. when he gave his daughter to the King of Scotland rather than the
+King of France) an acquisition of Scotland, and that the king would be
+under a necessity of siding with, and pleasing the most powerful of his
+two kingdoms, which were jealous of, and rivals to, one another; and
+that, therefore, ever after the union of the crowns, the king would not
+mind, at least dare encourage, the trades of Scotland; and that all
+state affairs would be managed, laws made and observed, ministers of
+state put in and turned out, as suited best with the interest and
+designs of England; by which means trade would decay, the people be
+oppressed, and the nobility and great men become altogether corrupted.”
+These anticipations—though probably confined to a few who were not
+dazzled at the prospect of the enormous succession which had opened to
+their prince, nor rendered blind to the future by the splendour of the
+present triumph—were afterwards thoroughly realised. From the union of
+the crowns, Scotland derived no permanent benefit, but the reverse. She
+retained, indeed, her parliament; but she had parted with the presence
+of her sovereign, who was entirely surrounded and swayed by English
+influence. Whenever the interests of the two countries clashed—and that
+was not seldom—the weaker was sure to suffer; and thus, instead of
+increasing amity, a feeling even bitterer than that which had existed
+while the kingdoms were entirely independent, was engendered. No wonder
+that there were rebellions and outbreaks; for, in a political point of
+view, it would have been better for Scotland to have had no king at all,
+than to owe allegiance to one who was necessarily under English
+dictation. Hence, instead of advancing like England, steadily in the
+path of prosperity, Scotland rapidly decayed—until, to use the words of
+an historian of the union—“in process of time, the nobility and gentry
+turned, generally speaking, so corrupted by the constant and long tract
+of discouragement to all that endeavoured to rectify the abuses and
+advance the interests of the country, that the same was entirely
+neglected, and religion, justice, and trade made tools of to advance the
+private and sinister designs of selfish men; and thus the nation, being
+for a hundred years in a manner without a head, and ravaged and gutted
+by a parcel of renegadoes, became, from a flourishing, happy people,
+extremely miserable.”
+
+Passages like the foregoing are apt to be regarded as general
+complaints, which hardly could be substantiated by reference to special
+instances. There is, however, abundance of evidence to show that
+Scotland, during the period which intervened between the union of the
+crowns and that of the kingdoms, was greatly depressed by the influence
+and policy of her more powerful neighbour. Under Cromwell, an entire
+freedom of trade had been established between the two countries. His
+ordinance was as follows: “That all customs, excise, and other imposts
+for goods transported from England to Scotland, and from Scotland to
+England, by sea or land, are, and shall be, so far taken off and
+discharged, as that all goods for the future shall pass as free, and
+with like privileges, and with the like charges and burdens, from
+England to Scotland, and from Scotland to England, as goods passing from
+port to port, or place to place in England; and that all goods shall and
+may pass between Scotland _and any other part_ of this commonwealth or
+dominions thereof, with the like privileges, freedom, and charges, as
+such goods do or shall pass between England and the said parts or
+dominions.”
+
+  “Thus,” remarks Mr Burton, who has entered very fully and distinctly
+  into the trading and commercial history of the times, “there was no
+  privilege enjoyed by traders in England which was not communicated to
+  Scotland; and what was not even attempted in France till the days of
+  Turgot, and only arose in Germany with the Prussian league—an internal
+  free trade—was accomplished for Britain in the middle of the
+  seventeenth century. It was during the few years of prosperity
+  following this event that many of our commercial cities arose.
+  Scotland enjoyed peace and abundance, and was making rapid progress in
+  wealth.”
+
+After the Restoration, however, the Parliament of England repealed this
+wise arrangement, and by enacting that the Scottish people should be
+commercially considered as aliens, introduced a fresh element of discord
+between the nations.
+
+  “In 1667, commissioners were appointed from the two kingdoms to treat
+  of union, when this object of a free trade was at once brought
+  prominently forward on the part of Scotland, and at once repelled on
+  that of England. It was stated that the colonies had been created at
+  the expense of Englishmen, and should exist for their advantage only;
+  that the East India and some other trades were monopolies in the hands
+  of companies, not even open to the English at large, which it was out
+  of the question to communicate to any strangers; and, finally, that
+  the privileges of English shipping were far too precious to the
+  merchants of England to be extended to Scotsmen.”
+
+This churlishness on the part of England was the more inexcusable,
+because the Scots nation was not left, as of old, free to form an
+unfettered and reciprocal alliance with any of the Continental states.
+From very early times, the relations between Scotland and France had
+been of the most intimate description—it being the policy of the latter
+country to support the former, and to retain its friendship, as the most
+effective check upon English aggression. The military service of France
+had long been open to the enterprising Scottish youth, and at the French
+universities the northern men of letters were received with open arms.
+But the union of the crowns, if it did not entirely close, at least
+greatly limited the extent of this intercourse. If England went to war
+with France, all communication with Scotland was necessarily closed. It
+might not be Scotland’s quarrel, but the enemies of the King of England
+were also to be considered as her foes. Hence she found that, on the one
+hand, her old relations were ruthlessly broken off, whilst, on the
+other, she was denied all participation in the commercial privileges
+which were rapidly augmenting the wealth of her southern neighbour. Hume
+tells us that “the commerce and riches of England did never, during any
+period, increase so fast as from the Restoration to the Revolution.” At
+the accession of the Stuarts to the English throne, the revenue of that
+country amounted to about £500,000: in 1688, when James II. left the
+throne, it had risen to £2,000,000. Within twenty-eight years the
+shipping of England had more than doubled. And, while this extraordinary
+degree of prosperity prevailed in the south, Scotland was daily becoming
+poorer, not through the fault or indolence of her people, but in
+consequence of that anomalous connection, which, while it withheld any
+new advantages, deprived her of the opportunity of the old.
+
+One effort, which well deserves to be remembered in history, was made by
+the Scottish nation to rescue themselves from this degrading position.
+We allude to the Darien scheme, which, though unfortunate in its issue,
+was yet as bold and comprehensive a commercial enterprise as ever was
+undertaken. That it failed, was undoubtedly not the fault of the
+projectors. The most disgraceful means were used on the part of the
+English government, at the instigation of English merchants alarmed for
+the continuance of their monopoly, to render it abortive; and even were
+the character of William of Orange otherwise without reproach, his
+duplicity and treacherous dealing in this transaction would remain as a
+dark blot upon his memory. But in thus attempting, disreputably and
+unfairly, to crush the rising spirit of Scottish enterprise in a field
+hitherto unoccupied, the English advisers of the crown had gone too far.
+True, they had succeeded in annihilating nearly all the available
+capital of the northern kingdom, which had been embarked in this
+gigantic scheme; but they had also roused to a point almost of
+ungovernable fury the passion of an insulted people. There is this
+peculiarity about the Scots, that they are slow to proclaim a grievance,
+but resolute to redress it when proclaimed. The extreme quietude of
+demeanour and retinence of speech have sometimes been falsely
+interpreted as indicative of a want of spirit; whereas, on the contrary,
+no people can be more keenly alive than they are to a sense of injury.
+And such was the attitude of the Scottish parliament at the time, and
+such the defiant tone of the nation, that William, seriously alarmed for
+the safety of his throne, “took up the neglected question of the union,
+and earnestly recommended such a measure to the House of Lords, with a
+special reference to the history of Darien, and to the adjustment of
+trading privileges, as the only means of saving the two nations from
+endless and irreconcilable discord.”
+
+It was not, however, destined that the union of the kingdoms should be
+effected under the auspices of the prince whose name in Scotland is
+indissolubly connected with the tragedies of Glencoe and Darien. The
+accession of Queen Anne, a daughter of the house of Stuart, inspired the
+Scottish people with the hope that their grievances might be at last
+redressed, or, at all events, be considered with more fairness than they
+could expect from her predecessor, who was an utter stranger to their
+habits and their laws, and whose title to rule, being questionable in
+itself, might naturally lead him to show undue favour to the stronger
+nation which had accepted him, at the expense of the weaker and more
+remote. It was now perfectly evident to all who were capable of forming
+a judgment on the matter, that, unless some decided step were taken for
+admitting the Scots to a commercial reciprocity with the English, an
+entire separation of the two kingdoms must inevitably take place. With a
+large portion of the northern population, the latter alternative would
+have been cheerfully accepted. What they complained of was, that they
+were uselessly fettered by England—could not take a single step in any
+direction without interfering or being interfered with by her—were
+denied the privilege, which every free nation should possess, of making
+their own alliances; and had not even the right of sending an accredited
+ambassador to a foreign court. They had no objection, but the reverse,
+to be associated with England on fair terms; but hitherto there appeared
+no reason to hope that such terms would ever be granted; and they would
+not consent to be degraded from their rank as an independent nation. The
+English were, on the other hand, exceedingly adverse to any measure of
+conciliation. As in individuals, so in nations, there are always
+peculiarities which distinguish one from another; and an overweening
+idea of their own superiority is essentially the English characteristic.
+A great deal has been and is written in the South about Scottish
+nationality—it is, in reality, nothing compared to the feelings which
+are entertained by the Englishman. But of this we shall have occasion to
+speak presently; in the mean time, it is sufficient to note that no
+measure could have been more unpopular in the trading towns and shipping
+ports of England, than one which proposed to admit the subjects of the
+same crown to an equal participation of privileges. Accordingly, the
+first attempt of Queen Anne, made only three days after her accession,
+in her opening speech to the Parliament of England, towards a union
+between the two countries, proved entirely abortive. It is worth while
+quoting from Mr Burton the note—for it is little more—of this
+negotiation, for the purpose of showing how determined the English
+people were to maintain their old monopoly. Commissioners on either side
+were appointed.
+
+  “It became at once apparent that the admission of Scotland to equal
+  trading privileges was still the great difficulty on the side of
+  England. The first fundamental proposition—the succession to the
+  throne, according to the Act of Settlement—was readily acceded to, as
+  well as the second for giving the United Kingdom one legislature. As
+  an equivalent fundamental article, the Scottish commissioners demanded
+  ‘the mutual communication of trade, and other privileges and
+  advantages.’ To this it was answered, that such a communication was
+  indeed a necessary result of a complete union; but a specific answer
+  was deferred, until the Board should discuss ‘the terms and
+  conditions’ of this communication. There was a deficiency of
+  attendance of English members to form a quorum, which for some time
+  interrupted the treaty. Whether this was from their being otherwise
+  occupied, or from distaste of the business before them, it chafed the
+  spirits of the Scots. When the two bodies were brought together again,
+  the trade demands of the Scots were articulately set forth. They
+  demanded free trade between the two nations; the same regulations and
+  duties in both countries for importation and exportation; equal
+  privileges to the shipping and seamen of the two nations; the two
+  nations not to be burdened with each other’s debts, or, if they were
+  to be so, an equivalent to be paid to Scotland, as the nation more
+  unequally so burdened; and, lastly, it was proposed that these demands
+  should be considered without reference to existing companies in either
+  kingdom. This was well understood by both parties to have reference to
+  the Darien affair.
+
+  “On the part of England it was conceded that ‘there be a free trade
+  between the two kingdoms for the native commodities of the growth,
+  product, and manufactures of the respective countries.’ But even this
+  concession, defined so as to exclude external trade, was not to extend
+  to wool—an article on which English restrictions on exportation, for
+  the support of home manufacture, had risen to a fanatical excess. A
+  reference was made to the colonial trade—the main object of the
+  Scottish demand of an exchange of commercial privileges. It was
+  postponed, and in a tone indicating that it was too precious, as a
+  privilege of Englishmen and a disqualification of Scotsmen, to be
+  conceded.”
+
+After further communing, without any satisfactory result, the meetings
+of the commissioners were adjourned; and there stands on the minutes of
+the Scottish Parliament the following brief but exceedingly emphatic
+resolution, that the Scottish commission for the treaty is terminate and
+extinct, and not to be revived without the consent of the Estates.
+
+These details are absolutely necessary for a proper understanding of the
+circumstances under which the great Act of Union of the two kingdoms was
+finally carried. Former historians have given too much prominence to
+mere party intrigues and ecclesiastical contests, which, though they
+undoubtedly lend a colour to the transactions of the times, are by no
+means to be regarded as the sole motives of action. The Presbyterian
+form of Church government was by this time finally settled; and there
+was no wish, on the part of any large section in the country, to have
+that settlement disturbed. The Jacobite or Cavalier party regarded the
+proposals for a union with suspicion, as necessarily involving a
+surrender of their cherished principle of legitimacy; and it is not
+unreasonable to suppose that many of them were rather glad than
+otherwise to perceive that the failure of the negotiation was entirely
+attributable to the tenacity and superciliousness of the English. Some
+of the nobility were conscientiously opposed to an entire incorporating
+union as degrading to the country, and injurious to the dignity of their
+own order; and they were supported in that view by a large number of the
+gentry, who were not sufficiently conversant with commercial affairs to
+understand the enormous importance of the development of the national
+trade. But in the midst of parties actuated by traditionary feeling and
+sectarian motives, there had arisen one, the members of which were fully
+alive to the critical state of the country, earnestly impressed with the
+necessity of elevating its position, and, withal, determined that its
+honour should not suffer in their hands.
+
+At the head of this independent body of politicians was Fletcher of
+Saltoun, a man of high and vigorous intellect, but of a hasty and
+impetuous nature. Fletcher was heart and soul a Scotsman, and devoted to
+his country. Loyalty to the sovereign was with him a secondary
+consideration—indeed he seems always to have entertained the theory that
+the kingly office was simply the result of the election of the people.
+He had taken an active part in Monmouth’s rebellion, and fought against
+King James—William he looked upon as no better than a usurping
+tyrant—and he was now ready to transfer the crown, if transferred it
+must be, to the head of any claimant, if by so doing he could rescue his
+country from what he deemed to be intolerable degradation. Those who
+followed Fletcher, and acted along with him in Parliament, did not
+subscribe to all these peculiar opinions; but, like him, they regarded
+the welfare of the country as their primary object, and were determined,
+since England would not come to terms, to achieve once more an entire
+and thorough independence. They looked for support, as brave men will
+ever do in such emergencies, not to party politicians who might use and
+betray them, but to the great body of the people; and they did not
+appeal in vain.
+
+The last Parliament ever held in Scotland, assembled on the 6th of May
+1703. Nothing was said about further negotiation for a union, but
+something was done significant of the determination of the country to
+vindicate its rights. An act was passed restraining the right of the
+monarch to make war, on the part of Scotland, without the consent of the
+Scottish Parliament. Another, by removing the restrictions on the
+importation of French wines, was intended to show that the Scottish
+legislature did not consider themselves involved in the English
+continental policy. But the most important measure by far was that
+termed the “Act for the Security of the Kingdom.” The crown of England
+had been formally settled upon the Princess Sophia and her heirs,
+failing direct descendants of Queen Anne, and it appears to have been
+confidently expected that the Scottish Parliament would adopt the same
+order of succession. So little doubt seems to have been entertained on
+this point, that no conference on the subject had been held or even
+proposed,—a neglect which the Scots were entitled to consider either as
+an insult, or as an indirect intimation that they were at perfect
+liberty to make their own arrangements. The latter view was that which
+they chose to adopt. In their then temper, indeed, it was not to be
+expected that they would let slip the opportunity of testifying to
+England that, except on equal terms, they would enter into no permanent
+alliance, and that, in the event of these not being granted, they were
+desirous to dissolve the connection by effecting a separation of the
+crowns. The main provisions of the Act, as it was passed, were these:—
+
+  “That on the death of the Queen without issue, the Estates were to
+  name a successor from the Protestant descendants of the royal line of
+  Scotland, _but the admitted successor to the crown of England was
+  excluded from their choice_, unless ‘there be such conditions of
+  government settled and enacted as may secure the honour and
+  sovereignty of this crown and kingdom,—the freedom, frequency, and
+  power of Parliaments,—the religion, freedom, and trade of the nation,
+  from English or any foreign influence.’ It was made high treason to
+  administer the coronation oath without instructions from the Estates.
+  By a further clause, to come in force immediately, the nation was
+  placed in a state of defence, and the able-bodied population were
+  ordained to muster under their respective heritors or burgh
+  magistrates.”
+
+This act, though not formally ratified until another session, affords
+the true key to the history of the great Union effected in 1707, whereby
+the people of two kingdoms, long rivals and often at hostility, were
+happily blended into one. It is not our intention to enter into any
+minute details regarding the progress of that measure, or to depict the
+popular feeling with which it was received. It was hardly possible that
+an event of this magnitude could take place, without exciting in some
+quarters a feeling of regret for altered nationality, and creating in
+others a strong misgiving for the future. But, in reality, there was no
+national surrender. The treaty was conducted and carried through on
+terms of perfect equality. England and Scotland were united into one
+kingdom by the name of Great Britain, and their separate ensigns were
+appointed to be conjoined. Each division was to retain its own laws,
+institutions, and ecclesiastical polity, and one Parliament was to
+legislate for the whole. It was upon the latter point that the great
+difference of opinion prevailed. Some advocated—and the reasons they
+adduced were not without their weight—a federal union, which would at
+least have the effect of preserving to Scotland the administration of
+its own affairs. They maintained that, under an incorporating union, the
+interests of Scotland, in so far as their own domestic and peculiar
+institutions were concerned, must necessarily, in the course of time, be
+neglected, in as much as the Scottish representatives in the Imperial
+Parliament would constitute but a small minority—that by entire
+centralisation of government, the wealth of the lesser country would be
+gradually attracted to the greater—and that no guarantees could justify
+the imprudence of parting with an administrative and controlling power
+over such matters as were intended to remain peculiarly distinctive of
+the nation. The experience of well-nigh a century and a half has proved
+that such apprehensions were not altogether without a foundation, and
+that the predicted tendency to absorb and centralise was not the mere
+phantom of an inflamed patriotic imagination; nevertheless, we are
+clearly of opinion that the objections which were raised to a federal
+were of far greater weight than those which could be urged against an
+incorporating union. It is impossible, we think, to read the history of
+last century without perceiving that a federal union, however skilfully
+framed, could hardly have been maintained unbroken—it would at any rate
+have engendered jealousies and perpetuated prejudices which are now
+happily set at rest—and it probably would have been a material bar to
+that unrestricted intercourse which has been productive of so much
+advantage to both divisions of the island. But, while granting this, we
+by no means intend to deny that centralisation, when pushed beyond a
+certain necessary point, may not become a grievance which loudly calls
+for a remedy.
+
+To judge from their language, and the general tone of their opinions,
+many of our brethren in the south seem to regard the Union simply as an
+act by means of which Scotland was annexed to England. A few weeks ago,
+a presumptuous scribbler in a London weekly journal, while reviewing Mr
+Burton’s work, designated Scotland as the incorporated, in
+contradistinction to the incorporating body; and although we do not
+suppose that such exceeding ignorance of historical fact is common, we
+are nevertheless constrained to believe that a good deal of
+misapprehension prevails as to the real nature of the treaty. Even the
+language of statesmen in Parliament is often inaccurate, and has a
+tendency to promote false views upon the subject. To talk of the laws of
+England or of her Church, is strictly correct, for these are peculiar
+to, and distinctive of herself; but such expressions as the English
+flag, English army, English parliament, &c., are altogether
+inappropriate, unless, indeed, the Treaty of Union is to be considered
+as an absolute dead letter. These things may be deemed trifles; but
+still there is a significance in words, which becomes the greater the
+oftener they are employed. We have, however, no desire to cavil about
+terms; nor would we have noticed such a matter, if it were not also
+evident that there has been, for some time past, and still is, a
+tendency to regard Scotland in the light of a subsidiary province, and
+to deal with her accordingly. Such, we say, is the case at present; but
+we do not therefore by any means conclude that there is a desire to
+defraud us of our privileges, or to degrade us from our proper position.
+We believe that we have grievances for which we require redress; but we
+are induced to attribute the existence of these grievances, most of
+which have been generated by neglect, rather to the limited number of
+our national representatives, and the inadequate provision which has
+been made for the administration of Scottish affairs, than to any
+intention on the part of British statesmen to withhold from us what we
+consider to be our due. Still, as claimants, and especially as claimants
+under so solemn a treaty, we are not only entitled, but bound to state
+our case, which we shall do, we hope, with proper temperance and
+discretion.
+
+We have often been told, especially of late years, that any expression
+of what is called Scottish nationality is absurd, and likely to be
+injurious to the general interest of the kingdom; and those journals who
+have taken upon themselves the task of ridiculing any movement on the
+part of Scotsmen to obtain what they consider to be their just
+privileges under a solemn international treaty, beseech us not “to
+engage in a disgraceful imitation of the worst features of Irish
+character.” We certainly have no intention of imitating the Irish; but
+we have as little idea of relinquishing that which is our own, or of
+submitting to domineering pretensions which have not a shadow of a
+foundation to rest on. In all matters common to the British empire, we
+acknowledge but one interest—in all matters peculiar to Scotland, we
+claim a right to be heard.
+
+To say that Scottish nationality is a dream without an object, is to
+deny history, and to fly in the face of fact. The Union neither did nor
+could denationalise us. It left us in undisturbed possession of our
+national laws and our national religion; and it further provided, as
+well as could be done at the period, and most anxiously, for the future
+maintenance of those institutions which the state is bound to foster and
+preserve. If it had been intended that in all time coming the Imperial
+Parliament of Britain was to have full liberty to deal as it pleased
+with the internal affairs of Scotland, certainly there would not have
+been inserted in the treaty those stringent clauses, which, while they
+maintain the institutions of the past, lay down rules for their
+regulation in the future. These were, to all intents and purposes,
+fundamental conditions of the treaty; and to that treaty, both in word
+and spirit, we look and appeal. We can assure our friends in the south
+that they will hear nothing of what a polished and judicious journalist
+has had the exquisite taste to term “a parcel of trash about
+Bannockburn, and sticks of sulphur of which a schoolboy, in his calmer
+moments, might feel ashamed.” We have no intention whatever, as the same
+ornament of letters has averred, of demanding a repeal of the Union—on
+the contrary, our demand resolves itself into this, that the spirit of
+the treaty should be observed, and the same consideration be shown by
+Parliament to matters which are purely Scottish, as to those which
+relate exclusively to England. And until it shall be received as
+righteous doctrine, that men are not only ridiculous, but culpable, in
+demanding what has been guaranteed to them, we shall give such
+assistance as lies in our power, to any movement in Scotland for the
+vindication of the national rights.
+
+That the provisions of the Treaty of Union were just and equitable, will
+not be disputed. They were adjusted with much care, with much
+difficulty, and were, in many points of view, exceedingly favourable to
+Scotland. But, unfortunately, almost from the very outset, a series of
+infringements began. Mr Burton, who certainly does not exaggerate
+Scottish grievances, remarks, “that many of the calamities following on
+the Union, had much encouragement, if they did not spring from that
+haughty English nature which would not condescend to sympathise in, or
+even know, the peculiarities of their new fellow-countrymen.” We go even
+further than this; for we are convinced that, had the provisions of the
+Union been scrupulously observed, and a judicious delicacy used in the
+framing of the new regulations necessary for the establishment of a
+uniform fiscal system—had the pride of the Scots not been wantonly
+wounded, and a strong colour given to the suspicions of the vulgar that
+the national cause had been betrayed—it is more than probable that no
+serious rising would have been attempted on behalf of the Stuarts.
+Obviously it was the policy of the English to have conciliated the
+Scots, and by cautious and kindly treatment to have reconciled them to
+their new position. But conciliation is not one of the arts for which
+Englishmen are famed; and it is not improbable that the nation was
+possessed with the idea that the Scots had, somehow or other, obtained a
+better bargain than they were altogether entitled to. Moreover, the
+English were then, as some of them are even now, profoundly ignorant of
+the history, temper, and feelings of the northern population. Mr Burton
+very justly remarks:—
+
+  “The people of Scotland, indeed, knew England much better than the
+  people of England knew Scotland—perhaps as any village knows a
+  metropolis better than the people of the metropolis know the village.
+  Those who pursued historical literature, it is true, were acquainted
+  with the emphatic history of the people inhabiting the northern part
+  of the island, and were taught by it to respect and fear them; but the
+  ordinary Englishman knew no more about them than he did about the
+  natives of the Faroe or Scilly isles. The efforts of the pamphleteers
+  to make Scotland known to the English at the period of the Union, are
+  like the missionary efforts at the present day to instruct people
+  about the policy of the Caffres or the Japanese.”
+
+No sooner was the Union effected, than disputes began about duties.
+Illegal seizures of Scottish vessels were made by the authorities.
+Englishmen, wholly ignorant of the laws and habits of those among whom
+they were to reside, were appointed to superintend the revenue; and, as
+sometimes occurs even at the present day, the dogmatic adherence of such
+men to the technicalities of the “system” under which they were bred,
+and their intolerance of any other method, made them peculiarly odious,
+and cast additional unpopularity upon the English name. If we again
+quote Mr Burton on this subject, it is less with the view of exposing
+what formerly took place, than in the hope that the spirit of his
+remarks, not altogether inapplicable even now, may penetrate the obtuse
+mist which shrouds our public departments; and lead to some relaxation
+of that bigoted bureaucracy which prevails in the Government offices. It
+has been, we are aware, laid down as an axiom that the local business of
+any district is best conducted by a stranger. Our view is directly the
+reverse. We maintain that an intimate knowledge of the people with whom
+he is to transact, is a high qualification for an official; and it is
+much to be regretted that the opposite system has been pursued in
+London, under the baneful influence of centralisation.
+
+  “Cause of enmity still more formidable passed across to Scotland
+  itself, where the Englishman showed his least amiable characteristics.
+  To manage the revenue, new commissioners of excise and customs were
+  appointed, consisting in a great measure of Englishmen. They were
+  followed by subordinate officers trained in the English method of
+  realising the duties, whose distribution throughout the country
+  afforded opportunities for saying that a swarm of harpies had been let
+  loose on the devoted land, to suck its blood and fatten on the spoils
+  of the oppressed people. The Englishman’s national character is not
+  the best adapted for such delicate operations. He lays his hand to his
+  functions with a steady sternness, and resolute unconsciousness of the
+  external conditions by which he is surrounded. The subordinate officer
+  generally feels bound, with unhesitating singleness of purpose, to the
+  peculiar methods followed at home in his own ‘department,’ as being
+  the only true and sound methods. He has no toleration for any other,
+  and goes to his duty among strangers as one surrounded by knaves and
+  fools, whose habits and ideas must be treated with disdain. Thus has
+  it often happened, that the collective honesty and national fidelity
+  to engagements of the English people, have been neutralised by the
+  tyrannical pride and surly unadaptability of the individual men who
+  have come in contact with other nations.”
+
+These arrangements were evidently unwise, as being calculated to produce
+throughout the country a spirit of discontent among the middle and lower
+classes, whom the Government ought to have conciliated by every means in
+their power. There is much independence of thought, as well as
+shrewdness, among the Scottish peasantry and burghers; and their hearty
+co-operation and good-will would have been an effectual barrier against
+any attempts to overthrow the Hanoverian succession. To that, indeed, as
+a security for the maintenance of the Presbyterian form of church
+government, they were well inclined; and, therefore, it was of the more
+moment that they should be reconciled as speedily as possible to the
+Union. But instead of the fair side of the picture, the dark one was
+imprudently presented to them. The taxation was greatly increased, the
+measures altered according to a foreign standard, and a degree of rigour
+exercised in the collection of the revenue, to which they had been
+previously unaccustomed. Against these immediate burdens and
+innovations, it was of no use to expatiate upon future prospects of
+national prosperity as an off-set. The Commons, never keenly in favour
+of the Union, began presently to detest it; and, if they did not
+absolutely wish success to the Jacobite cause, it was pretty generally
+understood that they would take no active measures to oppose a rising
+which at least might have the effect of freeing them from a burdensome
+connection.
+
+Nothing, indeed, could be more injudicious than the early legislation of
+the United Parliament in regard to Scottish affairs. In order to
+strengthen the hands of the English officers of customs and excise
+located in the north, who could not understand the technicalities, and
+would not observe the forms of a law to which they were habitually
+strangers, it was determined that the Scottish Justices of the Peace
+should be made fac-similes of the English. We may conceive the horror of
+a grim Presbyterian west-country laird at finding himself associated in
+the commission with “the most reverent father in Christ, and our
+faithful counsellor, Thomas Archbishop of Canterbury, primate of all
+England, and metropolitan thereof!” Then came the abolition of the
+Scottish Privy Council, and a new act for the trial of treason,
+superseding the authority of the Court of Justiciary, and introducing
+the commission, unintelligible to Scottish ears, of Oyer and Terminer.
+This was passed in the face of the united opposition of the whole body
+of the Scottish members. Then came the Patronage Act, which effected a
+schism in the church, and others more or less injurious or injudicious;
+so that it is impossible to avoid the conclusion of Mr Burton, “that
+English statesmen, had they desired to alienate Scotland, and create a
+premature revulsion against the Union, could not have pursued a course
+better directed to such an end.” In fact, the existence of the Union was
+at one time in the greatest peril. The Scottish members of the House of
+Commons, though almost to a man returned on the Revolution interest,
+held a meeting for the purpose of considering the propriety of taking
+steps to have the Union dissolved; and it does not appear that there was
+a single dissentient voice. Lockhart, the member for Mid-Lothian, who
+summoned the meeting, has given us a sketch of his statement, the most
+important points of which were as follows: “That the Scots trade was
+sunk and destroyed by the many prohibitions, regulations, and
+impositions on it, and the heavy taxes imposed on the native produce and
+manufacture (all which were calculated and adapted to the conveniency
+and circumstances of England, with which those of Scotland did noways
+correspond); and that the country was exhausted of money, by the
+remittance of so great a part of the public taxes, and the great
+recourse of so many Scotsmen to London: if matters stood long on such a
+footing, the ruin and misery of Scotland was unavoidable; that from the
+haughty and insolent treatment we had lately received, it was
+sufficiently evident we could expect no just redress from the English.”
+The result of the conference was a communication with the Scottish
+Representative Peers, who were also by this time thoroughly disgusted
+with the Union; and the Earl of Findlater, selected as the mouthpiece of
+the party, moved the dissolution of the Union in the House of Lords, and
+succeeded in effecting an equal division of the members present. The
+motion was lost by the small majority of three upon the proxies.
+
+It is remarkable that in this debate the Duke of Argyle and his brother,
+Lord Ilay, both warm friends of the Hanoverian succession, spoke
+strongly in favour of the motion; thus showing how keenly and
+universally the attempt to provincialise Scotland was felt by all
+classes. It became evident that, under such a system of administration,
+Scotland could not long remain tranquil; and, accordingly, the death of
+Queen Anne was followed by the raising of the insurrectionary standard.
+
+Mar’s rebellion was at length quelled, mainly through the efforts and
+personal popularity of the Duke of Argyle. In all human probability it
+never would have taken place, but for the encouragement held out to the
+Jacobites by the universal discontent of Scotland. But in spite of every
+warning, the ministers of the day persevered in a line of conduct most
+offensive to the northern population. They suppressed the important
+office of the Scottish Secretary of State, as if the affairs of that
+kingdom were of so little importance, that an English Secretary, who
+knew nothing of the people or their laws, was perfectly competent to
+superintend their business in addition to that of the other country.
+Such an arrangement as this, however, was too preposterous to remain
+unaltered. The English Secretary might just as well have attempted to
+administer the affairs of Muscovy as those of Scotland; and, in process
+of time, the functions of Secretary were quietly handed over to the Lord
+Advocate—a combination of which the country has had much reason to
+complain, and which it certainly ought not to tolerate longer. The
+history of the country between 1715 and 1745, is, with the exception of
+a short period during which the Duke of Argyle exercised a sort of
+provisional vice-royalty, little else than a catalogue of repeated
+innovations and dissensions. At that time Scotland was regarded by
+English statesmen as a dangerous and smouldering volcano; and fully half
+a century, dating from the time of the Union, went by, before anything
+like a feeling of cordiality was established between the two nations.
+
+When we regard Scotland as it is now—tranquil, prosperous, and
+enterprising—we are naturally led to wonder at the exceeding greatness
+of the change. The change, however, is not in the character of the
+people: they are still as jealous of what they esteem to be their just
+rights and guaranteed privileges as ever; but they have felt, and fully
+appreciate, the advantages which they have derived from the union; a
+closer intercourse has taught them to respect and admire the many
+estimable qualities of the English character; and they perceive that a
+very great deal of the aggression of which their fathers complained, and
+which led not only to heartburnings but to civil strife, arose rather
+from ignorance than from deliberate intention of offence. And if, even
+now, there are some matters with regard to which they consider that they
+have not received justice, these have not been, and will not be, made
+the subjects of a reckless agitation. No one believes that there is any
+design on the part of England to deal unkindly or unfairly with her
+sister. We may, indeed, complain that purely Scottish matters are
+treated with comparative indifference in the British House of Commons;
+but, then, it is impossible to forget that the great majority of the
+members know very little indeed of the Scottish laws and institutions.
+There is some truth in one observation of the _Times_—though the writer
+intended it for a sneer—“that the Scottish representatives in London are
+not only regarded with the deepest respect, but to them the highest of
+all compliments is paid—namely, that when a Scotch subject is brought
+before the House, almost invariably the matter is left to their own
+decision, without interference of any kind.” If the _Times_ could have
+added that Scottish business obtained that prominence to which it is
+entitled—that our bills were not invariably shuffled off and postponed,
+as if they related to matters of no moment whatever—the statement might
+be accepted as satisfactory. Even as it is, we are not inclined to stand
+greatly upon our dignity. Neglect is, upon the whole, preferable to
+over-legislation; and we are not covetous of the repetition of such
+experiments as were made by the late Sir Robert Peel upon our banking
+system. But, so far as we know, beyond an occasional grumble at slight
+and delay, there has been no serious remonstrance on this head. What we
+do remonstrate against is, that while exposed to an equal taxation with
+England, Scotland does not receive the same, or anything like the same,
+encouragement for her national institutions, and that her local
+interests are not properly cared for on the part of the British
+government.
+
+We are very anxious that this matter should be stated fairly and calmly,
+so that our brethren in the south may judge for themselves whether or
+not there is substantive reason in the appeal for “Justice to Scotland”
+which, having been faintly audible for many years, is now sounded
+throughout the land. We have anything but a wish to make mountains out
+of molehills, or to magnify and parade trifles as positive grievances.
+Therefore we shall not allude to such matters as heraldic arrangements,
+though why the stipulations made by treaty with regard to these should
+be violated or overlooked, we cannot comprehend. If emblems are to be
+retained at all, they ought to be in strict accordance with the position
+of the things which they represent. Our real complaints, however, are
+not of a nature which will admit of so easy a remedy as the application
+of a painter’s brush, or a readjustment of quarterings; nor can they be
+laughed down by silly sneers at the attitude of the Scottish Lion. They
+are substantial and specific; and both the honour and the interest of
+Scotland are concerned in obtaining their redress.
+
+And first we maintain, and refer to the Treaty of Union, and our present
+arrangements as proof, that the equality established between England and
+Scotland has been observed only as regards equality of taxation, but has
+been disregarded in the matter of allowances. We ask Englishmen, against
+whom the charge of pecuniary injustice has almost never been made, and
+who frequently have erred, in regard to foreign connection and subsidy,
+on the other side, to take into serious consideration the facts which we
+are about to adduce.
+
+The object of the Treaty of Union was to establish uniformity of trade
+and privilege, internal and external, throughout the United Kingdom; to
+equalise taxation and burdens; and to extinguish all trace of separate
+interest in matters purely imperial. But it was not intended by the
+Union to alter or innovate the laws and institutions of either
+country—on the contrary, these were strictly excepted and provided for.
+The previous acts, both of the English and the Scottish Parliaments,
+remained in force, applicable to the two countries: but, for the future,
+all legislation was to be intrusted to one body, “to be styled the
+Parliament of Great Britain.” Referring again to the Treaty of Union, we
+find anxious and careful provision made for the maintenance in Scotland
+of three national institutions, the Church, the Courts, and the
+Universities; all of which the united legislature was bound to recognise
+and protect. In short, the whole spirit and tenor of the Treaty is,
+that, without altering national institutions, equality should be
+observed as much as possible in the future administration of the
+countries.
+
+It cannot be pretended that the Union implied no real sacrifice on the
+part of the Scottish people. London, to the exclusion of Edinburgh,
+became the seat of government. Thither the nobility and wealthier gentry
+were drawn, and there a considerable portion of the revenue of the
+country was expended. That was the inevitable consequence of the
+arrangement which was made, and the Scots were too shrewd not to
+perceive it. But, on the other hand, the advantages which the union
+offered, seemed, in prospect at least, to counterbalance the sacrifice;
+and it was understood that, though the Scottish parliament was
+abolished, and the great offices of state suppressed, the remanent local
+institutions were to receive from the British government that
+consideration and support which was necessary to maintain them in a
+healthy state of existence.
+
+It is almost to be regretted that the Treaty of Union was not more
+distinct and specific on those points; and that no stipulation was made
+for the expenditure of a fair proportion of the revenue raised from
+Scotland within her bounds. That such a guarantee would have been
+advantageous is now evident; for, instead of diminishing, the tendency
+towards centralisation has become greater than ever. No government has
+tried to check it—indeed, we question whether public men are fully aware
+of its evil.
+
+As a country advances in wealth, the seat of government will always
+prove the centre point of attraction. The fascinations of the court, the
+concourse of the nobility, the necessary throng of the leading commoners
+of Britain during the parliamentary season, are all in favour of the
+metropolis. To this, as a matter of course, we must submit, and do so
+cheerfully; but not by any means because we are in the situation of an
+English province. It never was intended to make us such, nor could the
+whole power of England, however exerted, have degraded us to that
+position. London is not our capital city, nor have we any interest in
+its aggrandisement. We do not acknowledge the authority, in matters of
+law, of the Chief-Justice of England—we are altogether beyond the reach
+of the southern Ecclesiastical Courts. These are not accidental
+exceptions; they are necessary parts of the system by which it was
+provided that, in all things concerning our local administration, we
+were to have local courts, local powers, and a local executive. We
+complain that, in this respect, the spirit of the treaty has not been
+observed. Our Boards of Custom and Commissioners of Excise have been
+abolished; the revenues of the Scottish Woods and Forests are
+administered in London, and applied almost entirely to English purposes;
+and a like centralisation has been extended to the departments of the
+Stamps and Post-office.
+
+But lest it should be said that these are grievances more shadowy than
+real, let us take the case of the Woods and Forests mentioned above. The
+hereditary revenues of the Crown in Scotland amount to a very large sum,
+all of which is sent to London, but hardly a penny of it ever returns.
+Holyrood, Dunfermline, Linlithgow—all our old historical buildings and
+objects of interest, are allowed to crumble into decay; because the
+administration of a fund which ought to be devoted to such purposes is
+confided to Englishmen, who care nothing whatever about the matter. By
+one vote in the present year, £181,960 were devoted to the repair and
+embellishment of royal palaces, parks, and pleasure-grounds in England;
+but it seems by the statement of the Chancellor of the Exchequer that
+there are no funds available for the repair of Holyrood. Of course there
+can be no funds, if all our money is to be squandered in the south, and
+an annual expenditure of nearly £10,000 lavished upon Hampton Court,
+where royalty never resides. Of course there can be no funds, if £40,000
+is given for a palm-house at Kew, and upwards of £62,000 for royal parks
+in England. But there _are_ funds, if we may believe the public
+accounts, arising from the revenue of the Crown in Scotland, though most
+unjustly diverted to other than Scottish purposes. It may be, however,
+that, very soon, no such funds will remain. A large portion of the Crown
+property situated in Scotland has been advertised for public sale; and
+we may be sure of this, that not even a fractional portion of the
+proceeds will be applied to the North of the Tweed. Now, if the
+management of this branch of the Revenue had been intrusted to a board
+in Edinburgh (as it formerly was, before the Barons of Exchequer were
+abolished), we venture to say that, without asking or receiving one
+shilling of English money, we could have effectually rescued ourselves
+from the reproach to which we are daily subjected by strangers, who are
+not aware of the extent to which centralisation has been carried. They
+look with wonder and sorrow at Holyrood, with her ruined chapel, and the
+bones of our Scottish kings and queens exposed to the common gaze, and
+ask whether they really are among a people famous for the enthusiasm
+with which they cleave to the memories of the past, and to the
+recollections of their former glories. Peering through the bars of that
+charnel vault where the giant skeleton of Darnley is thrown beside the
+mouldering remains of those who once wore the crown and wielded the
+sceptre of Scotland, they can recall no parallel instance of desecration
+save the abominable violation of the sepulchres of St Denis by the base
+republican rabble. And who are to blame for this? Not certainly the
+Scottish people, but those who have diverted the revenues applicable to
+purely national objects, to the maintenance of English palaces and the
+purchase of London parks.
+
+Centralisation has deprived us of several important offices which could
+have been filled quite as economically and efficiently for the public
+service in Scotland as in the south. We are by no means in favour of the
+extension of useless offices, but there is a vast difference between
+such and places of responsibility, where local knowledge becomes a very
+high qualification. It is impossible that a board, sitting in London,
+can give the same satisfaction to the people of Scotland, or conduct
+business so effectually, as if it was located among them. But, besides
+this, it seems to be a settled matter that Scottish official
+appointments are to be remunerated on a different scale from that which
+is applied in England and in Ireland. Why is it that our officials—in
+the Edinburgh Post-office, for example—are paid at a far lower rate than
+those who perform the same duties in London and in Dublin? Is it because
+Ireland contributes more than we do to the revenue? Let us see. The
+revenue of Scotland for the year ending 1852 was £6,164,804, of which
+there was expended in the country £400,000, leaving £5,764,804, which
+was remitted to London. The revenue of Ireland for the same period was
+£4,000,681, of which there was expended in Ireland £3,847,134; leaving a
+balance merely of £153,547. Have the people of Scotland no reason to
+complain whilst this monstrous inequality is tolerated?
+
+Let us now turn to the Universities, which in the eyes of a Government
+so zealous as the present affects to be in the cause of education, and
+to Lord John Russell in particular, ought to be objects of considerable
+interest. Let us see how they have been treated. In the year 1826 a
+Commissioner was appointed by George IV. to examine into the state of
+the Scottish Universities, and to report thereon. The Commissioners, of
+whom the Earl of Aberdeen was one, made a report in 1831, to the effect
+that, in general, the chairs were scandalously ill-endowed, and that
+adequate and complete provision should be made in all the Universities,
+so that the appointment to the Chairs “should at all times be an object
+of ambition to men of literature and science.” Four or five bulky blue
+books of evidence, &c., were issued; but the only party connected with
+literature who derived any benefit from the commission, was the English
+printer. Not a step has been taken in consequence by any administration,
+_although two-and-twenty years have elapsed since the report was given
+in_! Sir Robert Peel had no objection to found and endow Popish colleges
+in Ireland, but he would not listen to the representations made on
+behalf of the Protestant colleges of Scotland. In consequence, the
+emolument drawn from many Chairs in Scotland is under £250 per annum,
+even in cases where the Crown is patron! Such is the liberality of the
+British Government in regard to Scottish education in its highest
+branches, even with the most positive reports recorded in its favour! As
+for museums, antiquarian and scientific societies and the like, they are
+left entirely dependent upon private support. We do not say that a
+Government is bound to expend the public money upon such objects as the
+latter; but it is at all events bound to be impartial; and really, when
+we look at the large sums devoted every year as a matter of course to
+London and Dublin, while Edinburgh is passed over without notice, we
+have a right to know for what offence on our part we experience such
+insulting neglect. This is, moreover, a matter which ought not to be
+lightly dismissed, inasmuch as, if Edinburgh is still to be regarded as
+a capital city, she is entitled to fair consideration and support in all
+things relating to the diffusion of arts and science. We do not desire
+to see the multiplication of British museums; but we wish to participate
+directly in that very lavish expenditure presently confined to London,
+for what are called the purposes of art. If we are made to pay for
+pictures, let us at least have some among us, so that our artists may
+derive the benefit. We have all the materials and collections for a
+geological museum in Edinburgh, but the funds for the building are
+denied. Nevertheless, a grant of £18,000 per annum is made from the
+public money to the geological museums of London and Dublin.
+
+Passing from these things, and referring to public institutions of a
+strictly charitable nature, we find no trace whatever of state almonry
+in Scotland. Dublin last year received for its different hospitals
+£23,654 of state money. Edinburgh has never received the smallest
+contribution. Can any one explain to us why the people of Scotland are
+called upon to maintain their own police, while that of London receives
+annually £131,000, that of Dublin £36,000, and that of the Irish
+counties £487,000—or why one half of the constabulary expense in the
+counties of England is defrayed from the consolidated fund, while no
+such allowance is made to Scotland? We should like very much to hear Mr
+Gladstone or Lord Palmerston upon that subject.
+
+It is anything but an agreeable task for us to repeat the items of
+grievance, of which these are only a part. There are others highly
+discreditable to the Government, such as the continued delay, in spite
+of constant application, to devote any portion of the public money to
+the formation of harbours of refuge on the east and northern coasts of
+Scotland, where shipwrecks frequently occur. But enough, and more than
+enough, has been said to prove that, while subjected to the same
+taxation, Scotland does not receive the same measure of allowances and
+encouragements as England, and that the system of centralisation has
+been carried to a pernicious and unjustifiable length. If these are not
+grievances, we are really at a loss to know what may be the true meaning
+of that term. To many of the English public they must be new, as we have
+no doubt they are startling; for the general impression is, that
+Scotsmen, on the whole, know pretty well how to manage their own
+affairs, and are tolerably alive to their own interest. That is
+undeniable; but the peculiarity of the case is, _that we are not
+permitted to manage our own affairs_. England has relieved us of the
+trouble; which latter, however, we would not grudge to bestow, if
+allowed to do so. But our grounds of complaint are not new to statesmen
+and officials of every party. Representation after representation has
+been made, but made in vain. The press of Scotland has, year after year,
+charged the Government with neglect of Scottish interests, and warned it
+against persevering in such a course; but without effect. The
+unwillingness of the people to agitate has been construed into
+indifference; and now, when the national voice is raised in its own
+defence, we are taunted with previous silence!
+
+Now, we beg to repeat again, what we have already expressed, that we do
+not believe it is the wish of Englishmen, or of English statesmen, that
+we should be so unfairly treated. Indeed, we have reason to know that
+some of the latter have expressed their conviction that Scottish affairs
+are not well administered, and that great reason of complaint exists.
+That is consoling, perhaps, but not satisfactory. We are told that we
+ought to be very proud, because, at the present moment, a Scotsman is at
+the head of the Government. As yet we have seen no reason to plume
+ourselves upon that accident, which in no way adds materially to the
+national glory. We shall reserve our jubilation thereon, until we have a
+distinct assurance that Lord Aberdeen is prepared to grant us
+substantial justice. Of that, as yet, no indication has been afforded;
+and, to confess the truth, were it only for the grace of the movement,
+we would far rather see the reforms and readjustments we require
+conceded to us, as matter of right, by an English than by a Scottish
+Premier. What we seek is neither favour nor jobbing, but that attention
+to our interests which is our due. If Lord Aberdeen thinks fit to render
+it now, we shall, of course, be very glad to receive it; but we do not
+entertain extravagant expectations from that quarter. If his heart had
+really been warmly with the country of his birth, it is almost
+impossible to suppose that, having set his name, as he did, to a strong
+report in favour of assistance to the Scottish universities, he would
+have allowed about a quarter of a century to elapse without mooting the
+subject, either as a peer of Parliament, or as an influential member of
+more than one Cabinet; and it is impossible to forget that, with the
+most deplorable schism in the history of the national Church of
+Scotland—the more deplorable, because it might have been prevented by
+wise and timely legislation—his name is inseparably connected.
+Therefore, in so far as our interests are concerned, we see no especial
+reason for glorification in the fact that Lord Aberdeen is a peer of
+Scotland. That Lord Campbell, who, as the _Times_ avers, “holds the
+highest common law appointment in the three kingdoms,” was born in
+Cupar, in the ancient kingdom of Fife, by no means reconciles us to the
+fact of an unfair application of the revenue. Lord Brougham, we believe,
+first saw the light in Edinburgh—is his subsequent occupation of the
+woolsack to be considered a sufficient reason why the citizens of the
+Scottish metropolis should be compelled to maintain their own police,
+when those of London and Dublin are paid out of the imperial revenue?
+Really it would appear that notorieties are sometimes expensive
+productions. With profound respect for the eminent individuals referred
+to, we would rather, on the whole, surrender the credit of their birth,
+than accept that as an equivalent for the vested rights of the nation.
+
+Supposing, then, that the reality of the grievance is made out—as to
+which we presume there can be no question, for the matters we have
+referred to are of public notoriety—it is necessary to consider what
+remedy ought to be applied. Undoubtedly much is in the power of
+Ministers. They may select more than one point of grievance for curative
+treatment; and Mr Gladstone may possibly endeavour, in his next
+financial arrangements, to atone for past neglect; but it is not by such
+means as these that the evil can be wholly eradicated. We must look to
+the system in order to ascertain why Scotland should have been exposed
+so long to so much injustice; and, believing as we do, that there was no
+deliberate intention to slight her interests, we are driven to the
+conclusion that the fault has arisen from the utterly inadequate
+provision made by the State for the administration of her internal
+affairs.
+
+The absurd idea that the true position of Scotland is merely that of a
+province, has received countenance from the fact that there is no
+Minister in the British Cabinet directly responsible for the
+administration of Scottish affairs. There is, indeed, a Home Secretary
+for the United Kingdom; but it is impossible to expect the holder of
+that office to have an intimate acquaintance with the laws,
+institutions, and internal relations of the northern division of the
+island. The Secretary of State, in general, knows nothing about us, and
+is compelled to rely, in almost every case, upon the information which
+he receives from the Lord Advocate. Now, the position of a Lord Advocate
+is this: He must be a Scottish barrister, and he usually is one who has
+risen to eminence in his profession. But he has had no experience of
+public affairs, and usually little intercourse with public men, before
+he receives her Majesty’s commission as first law officer of the Crown.
+He has not been trained to Parliament, for a Scottish barrister is
+necessarily tied to his own courts, and cannot, as his English brethren
+may, prosecute his profession while holding a seat in Parliament. Thus,
+even supposing him to be a man of real eminence and ability—and we are
+glad to express our opinion that, of late years, the office has been
+worthily filled—he enters the House of Commons without parliamentary
+experience, and has very little leisure allowed him to acquire it. For,
+in the first place, he is, as public prosecutor, responsible for the
+conduct of the whole criminal business of Scotland; and he is the Crown
+adviser in civil cases. Then he has his own practice to attend to, which
+generally increases rather than diminishes after his official elevation;
+and in attending to that in Edinburgh, he is absent from London during
+half the parliamentary session—in fact, is seldom there, except when
+some important bill under his especial charge is in progress. Besides
+this, the office of Lord Advocate is understood to be the stepping-stone
+to the bench. One gentleman, now a judge of the Court of Session, did
+not hold the office of Lord Advocate for three months, and never had a
+seat in Parliament. In the course of last year (1852), no less than
+three individuals were appointed Lords Advocate in succession, and two
+of them did not sit in the House. Owing to these circumstances, it
+rarely happens that a Lord Advocate can acquire a reputation for
+statesmanship—he has neither the time, the training, the facilities, nor
+the ordinary motives of doing so. At any moment, even on the eve of
+completing some important national measure, he may be summoned to the
+bench, and, in such an event, the interests of the country are tied up
+until his successor in office has been able to procure a seat, and has
+become, in some measure, reconciled to the novel atmosphere of St
+Stephen’s.
+
+This is, beyond all question, a bad system. The peculiar legal functions
+of the Lord Advocate are, in addition to his private practice, a burden
+quite heavy enough for any single pair of shoulders to sustain; nor is
+it consonant either with the dignity or the convenience of the country,
+that he should be made to act as a sort of assessor or adviser to the
+Home Secretary. He ought certainly to be in Parliament, as the
+Attorney-General of England is, to give advice in legal matters, but no
+further. The training of the bar is not by any means that which tends to
+the development of administrative qualities; and, even were it
+otherwise, we have shown that the precarious nature of the office must
+preclude the holder of it from the advantage of official experience.
+But, in fact, as those who have had public business to transact in
+London know full well, there is no order or arrangement whatever
+provided for the administration of Scottish affairs. Let us take the
+case of a deputation sent to London about some local matter. They
+naturally, in the first instance, direct their steps to the Lord
+Advocate, who, if in town—by no means a certain occurrence—receives them
+with great courtesy, listens to their story, and then, regretting that
+the subject in question does not fall within the sphere of his
+department, refers them to the Junior Lord of the Treasury. They recount
+their tale to that official, who really seems to exhibit some interest,
+but discovers, after a time, that they should have made application to
+the Board of Woods and Forests. Thither they go, and are probably
+referred to some clerk or under-secretary, brimful of conceit, and
+exclusively English in his notions. He refers them to the Secretary of
+the Treasury; but that man of figures is too busy to listen to them, and
+knows nothing about the matter. He suggests an application to the Home
+Secretary. Lord Palmerston, the pink of politeness, smiles, bows, and
+remits them to the knowledge of the Lord Advocate. By this time half the
+deputation have left, and the others are savage and excited. They are
+advised to memorialise the Treasury, which they do, and receive an
+immediate reply that “my Lords” will take the matter into their
+consideration. And so in all probability they do; but it turns out at
+the last moment that the Chancellor of the Exchequer has a ruling voice
+in the matter; and, as his financial arrangements for the year are
+already made, the application must stand over to be considered at a
+future period.
+
+It is now full time that a new order of things should be introduced, and
+that the affairs of Scotland should be administered by a responsible
+Secretary of State with a seat in the Cabinet. We have, on every ground,
+full right to demand this. The public revenue levied from Scotland is
+larger than that of either Holland, Belgium, Naples, Sardinia, or Sweden
+and Norway. It is larger than the combined revenues of Bavaria, Denmark,
+Greece, and Switzerland. The revenue of Ireland is one-third less than
+ours, and yet Ireland has not only a Secretary of State, but a
+Lord-Lieutenant. No one surely can venture to say that the interests
+here involved are too trifling to require superintendence, or that any
+organisation would be superfluous. For our own part, having watched
+narrowly for years the working of the present absurd and unregulated
+system, we do not hesitate to declare our conviction that justice never
+can, and never will, be done to Scotland until its affairs are placed
+under the management of a separate Secretary of State. This point cannot
+be pressed too strongly. The wealth, importance, and position of the
+country justify the demand; and we have yet to learn that there is any
+one sound or substantial reason for denying it.
+
+Another point, and it is one of vast importance, is to insist that, at
+the next adjustment of the representation, Scotland shall send its just
+proportion of members to the House of Commons. At present, whether the
+test of revenue or of population be applied, we are inadequately
+represented as contrasted with England. We pay more than a ninth of the
+whole revenue of the United Kingdom, but we have only a thirteenth part
+of the representation. It is quite necessary that this should be
+remedied, so that our interests may be properly and efficiently attended
+to in the legislature. We care not what criterion is taken—whether that
+of revenue or that of population—but we have a right to demand and
+expect, that in this matter also we shall be dealt with according to the
+same measure which is applied to England. According to the last census,
+each of our Scottish members represents an average population of 54,166;
+whilst one member is returned for every 35,845 of the population of
+England. The apportionment ought to be made according to some clear,
+intelligible principle—not by a mere flourish of the pen, or an
+arbitrarily assumed figure. With a responsible Minister, and an adequate
+representation, attention to the interests of Scotland would be secured;
+and it is the bounden duty of every man who wishes well to his country
+to bestir himself for the attainment of these objects.
+
+We have not approached this subject with any feeling of exacerbation. In
+demonstrating wherein Scotland has not received its proper meed of
+justice and consideration, we have been careful to avoid rash strictures
+or unworthy reflections upon our neighbours. If in some things we have
+suffered from neglect, and in others from innovation, we must not
+hastily conclude that there is a deliberate intention anywhere to
+deprive us of our due. The form in which our affairs have been
+administered for well-nigh a hundred years, is, as we believe we have
+shown, quite inadequate for the purpose for which it was originally
+intended; and the rapid development of the wealth and population of the
+country ought, long ago, to have suggested the propriety of a more
+rational arrangement. There is no occasion, in a matter of this sort,
+for any appeal to national feelings, which indeed it would be
+superfluous to rouse. The case is a very clear one, founded upon justice
+and public policy; and, if properly urged, no government can venture to
+treat it indifferently. But in whatever way this movement may be
+met—whether it is regarded with sympathy, or replied to by derision—it
+is our duty to aid in the assertion of our country’s rights; and we
+shall not shrink from its performance.
+
+
+
+
+                    FOREIGN ESTIMATES OF ENGLAND.[2]
+
+
+With what heart or conscience can an English critic expose the
+deficiencies of a foreign book, “dedicated to the great, the noble, the
+hospitable English people”? Upon its first page he finds a compliment
+that cripples his quill. Though he had gall in his ink, it must turn to
+honey on his paper. Mr Schlesinger takes his English readers and
+reviewers at an unfair advantage. Perhaps he thinks to treat them like
+children, thrusting a comfit into their mouths to bribe them to swallow
+drugs. The flattering flourish of his commencement may be intended to
+mask the batteries about to open. He gags us with a rose, that we may
+silently bear the pricking of the thorns.
+
+Inexhaustible interest attaches to the printed observations of
+intelligent foreigners upon England and its capital. The field is vast,
+and has been little worked. There are few books upon the subject either
+in French or in German, and, of such as there are, very few possess
+merit or have met with success. Defaced, in a majority of instances, by
+prejudice, triviality, or misappreciation, they attracted slight notice
+in the countries of their publication, and were utterly unheeded in that
+they professed to describe. Increased facilities of communication, and
+more extensive study of the English language in France and Germany, will
+bring about a change in this respect. We anticipate the appearance,
+within the next twenty years, of many foreign books upon England, and
+especially upon London—a city first known to Continentals, according to
+the author now present, in the year of grace 1851. “Stray travellers,
+bankers, wandering artisans, and diplomatic documents, had occasionally
+let fall a few words, which sounded like fairy tales, concerning the
+greatness, the wealth, the industry, and the politics of the monster
+city of the West; but that city lay, geographically, too far out of the
+way, and the phases of its historical development had not been
+sufficiently connected with the history of Continental nations, for it
+to be, like Paris, a favourite object of travel and study.” The
+cosmopolitan glasshouse was the glittering bait which drew to our shores
+a larger concourse of foreigners than England ever before at one time
+beheld, or than she is likely ever again to behold, at least in our day,
+unless in the rather improbable contingency of the French Emperor’s
+successfully realising those projects of invasion some are disposed to
+impute to him. A summer of unusual beauty, a general disposition to show
+kindness and hospitality to the stranger, the manifold attractions of
+that really wonderful building, unsurpassed save by the edifice now
+rising from its remains on the slope of a Kentish hill, combined to
+invest London with a charm to which foreigners who had already visited
+it were wholly unaccustomed, and for which those who for the first time
+beheld it were quite unprepared.
+
+Max Schlesinger, well known as the author of one of the most successful
+and popular of the books that were written on the late Hungarian war,
+was amongst the visitors to the Crystal Palace, but must have resided in
+England for a longer period than the duration of that exhibition. The
+first volume of his “Wanderings,” which appeared last year, was written
+in England, for he dates his preface from the Isle of Wight. He does not
+profess to give an account of London. He felt that two volumes,
+compendious though they be, would be insufficient for more than a glance
+at such a multitude of objects for description, and of subjects for
+reflection and analysis, as are presented by the overgrown British
+metropolis, and he preferred dwelling upon a few points to glancing at a
+great many. He has hit upon an ingenious and amusing plan for the
+exposition of his views and maintenance of his impartiality. He
+establishes himself in an English family, in the _terra incognita_ of
+Guildford Street. The master of the house, Sir John, who is intended as
+a prototype of his countrymen, is a thorough John Bull—shrewd, sensible,
+intelligent, with a moderate allowance of English prejudices, a warm
+attachment to his country, a well-founded conviction of its pre-eminence
+amongst the nations, and of the excellence of its institutions. Dr Keif
+(the word signifies a grumbler), another inmate of the house, and an old
+friend of Sir John’s, is an Austrian journalist, whose pen has taken
+liberties that have endangered his own, and who has sought refuge in
+England, which he begins good-humouredly to abuse almost as soon as he
+has landed in it. He is kind-hearted, impetuous, excitable, given to
+faultfinding and polemics, and nearly as much convinced of German
+superiority as Sir John is of that of England. Then there is a
+Frenchman, Tremplin, introduced in the second volume, and who can see
+nothing good out of Paris. An Englishman named Frolick—who conducts the
+foreigners upon nocturnal excursions to theatres, gin palaces, “penny
+gaffs,” the purlieus of Drury Lane and St Giles’s, and to any other
+place they are curious to study—and the ladies of Sir John’s family,
+make up the list of characters, amongst whom there are occasionally very
+amusing dialogues, when the master of the house, Keif, and Tremplin,
+hold stiff disputations as to the merits of their respective countries.
+Mr Schlesinger’s style is pointed, and often humorous; and the plan he
+has adopted imparts to his book a lightness and entertaining quality by
+no means invariably found in works of the kind; whilst it at the same
+time enables him to avoid that appearance of invidious dogmatism which
+is one of the most fatal pitfalls literary travellers are exposed to
+stray into.
+
+As may be supposed from the terms of his dedication, Mr Schlesinger has
+found much to like and admire in England, and especially in the English
+nation. His book is, upon the whole, highly favourable to us, although
+sarcastic Dr Keif and that puppy Tremplin now and then point to a raw
+spot. Evidently well acquainted with our language, gifted with an active
+mind and an observant eye, he has no need to resort to the flimsy
+devices of some recent writers on the same topic. There is solid pabulum
+in his pages, something superior to the flimsy lucubrations of one or
+two French writers we have lately fallen in with, and of one of whom (M.
+Méry) we took notice a few months ago. Most Frenchmen who write about
+London do so with an extremely superficial knowledge of the subject.
+Want of self-confidence is not a failing of theirs; they come to England
+with a mere smattering of the language, and with a predisposition to
+dislike the place and its customs, to laugh at the people, to be
+tortured by the climate and poisoned by the cooks. They remain a short
+time, examine nothing thoroughly, nor appreciate anything impartially,
+quit the country with joy, remember it with a shudder, and write books
+in which burlesque stories and ridiculous exaggerations are eked out by
+denunciations of perpetual fogs, and by hackneyed jokes concerning the
+sun’s invisibility. Such writers may be sometimes witty, occasionally
+amusing, but they are neither fair critics nor reliable authorities.
+
+There is no plan or order in Mr Schlesinger’s book. Guildford Street is
+his headquarters; thence he rambles, usually with Dr Keif, sometimes
+with Sir John and other companions, whithersoever the fancy of the
+moment leads him. On their return home, from Greenwich or Vauxhall, from
+the House of Commons or a minor theatre, or from a stroll in the
+streets, they invariably find, no matter how late the hour, the cheerful
+tea-urn and smiling female faces to welcome them; and it is usually
+during these sober sederunts, whilst imbibing innumerable cups of bohea,
+that Sir John and Dr Keif hold those lively arguments which Mr
+Schlesinger has transcribed with stenographic fidelity. We turn to the
+fourth chapter of the second volume, headed “Westminster—The
+Parliament.” Probably no foreigner ever gave a more vivid and correct
+description than this chapter contains of things with which it takes
+both time and pains for a foreigner to become thoroughly acquainted.
+Doubtless Mr Schlesinger has been indebted to reading and conversation
+as well as to his own observations, and some statistical and descriptive
+parts of his work are probably derived from English books. One entire
+chapter, that on Spitalfields, he acknowledges to have taken from such a
+source. But there are numerous remarkable passages for which he can
+hardly be indebted to anything but to his own quick ear and sharp eye.
+In company with Sir John and Dr Keif, he goes to the Speaker’s Gallery
+of the House of Commons. It is five o’clock—bills are being
+read—presently the debate begins—Dr Keif, who has a perfect knowledge of
+English, is indignant that the chat amongst the members prevents his
+hearing the orators. These, he is assured by Sir John, who is an old
+frequenter of the House, are mere skirmishers, of little importance; the
+gossips will be still enough when any one worth listening to rises to
+speak. A message from the Upper House fixes the attention of the
+Germans, who are immensely diverted by the formalities with which it is
+presented, by the forward and backward bowing of the messengers and of
+the sergeant-at-arms, whose official costume, knee breeches and sword,
+has already excited their curiosity. Mr Schlesinger, a decided liberal
+in German politics, not unfrequently becomes as decidedly conservative
+in treating of English customs and institutions. “All these ceremonies,”
+he says, “are extraordinarily comical to the foreign guest, and even the
+Englishman, who enters for the first time in his life the workshop of
+his lawmakers, may probably be rather startled by such pigtailed
+formalities, although his courts of justice have already accustomed him
+to periwigs. In most Continental states, ceremonies handed down from
+previous generations, and unsuited to the present time, have been done
+away with as opportunity offered. People got ashamed of perukes and silk
+cloaks, and dismissed them to the lumber room, as opposed to the spirit
+of the age. Whether they might not, in their war against those
+intrinsically unimportant and harmless externals, make a commencement of
+more serious conflicts, was probably overlooked. In France and Germany
+we have lived to witness such conflicts. In the revolutions of both
+those countries the war was in great measure against externals, against
+abuses of minor importance, against titles of nobility, orders of
+knighthood, upper chambers, clerical and royal prerogatives; but in
+neither did a compact majority ever contrive to seize the right moment,
+to harmonise contradictions, and to secure the two results which should
+be the aim of every revolution—improvement of the condition of the
+people, and unlimited individual liberty. Where these two things are
+secured, all other difficulties peaceably solve themselves.... A pacific
+progress ensues; a gradual, but so-much-the-safer activity of reform
+becomes not only possible, but necessary and inevitable. The English,
+even those belonging to the Radical party, have an instinctive sense of
+this truth. The Lower House has never taken the field against the Peers,
+because their wives wear coronets in their hair, or because the Queen
+opens and closes Parliament in the Upper House, upon which occasions the
+Commons stand thronged like a flock of sheep before the bar of the House
+of Lords,” &c. &c. We pass over some pages of interesting remarks to get
+to Mr Schlesinger’s sketches of certain prominent members of the House
+of Commons, merely recording, by the way, this German reformer’s
+opinion, that the monarchical principle is firmer in England at the
+present day than it was a century ago, before the clamour of innovation
+and revolution had swept across the Channel. We trust and believe that
+he is right in this opinion. We well know that there are, both in and
+out of Parliament, a few men, more noted for a certain class of talent
+than respected for consistency and high principle, who look upon the
+crown as a costly bauble, and would gladly see it replaced by a
+republican government. If they do not say as much, it is because they
+dare not, because they know that the press and the public would combine
+to hoot them down. But it is not difficult to discern the levelling
+principle that is paramount in their hearts. The enunciation of that
+principle, did they ever contemplate it in any form, has not been
+favoured by the events of the last five years. Common sense and shrewd
+perception are qualities claimed by Englishmen, and usually conceded to
+them even by those foreigners who like them least. We must, indeed, be
+lamentably deficient in both, not to have taken a warning from what we
+have beheld, since 1847, in the two most civilised countries of the
+European continent. There is little contagion in such examples as have
+been set to us. License, with despotism as a sequel, constitutes no very
+alluring prospect to a nation accustomed to seek its prosperity in
+industry and order. We have seen enough of the results of sudden changes
+abroad to desire that any we adopt at home should be exceedingly gradual
+and well-considered. Foreign revolutionists have done us the service
+which drunken helots were made to render to the children of Sparta. We
+have learned temperance from the spectacle of their degradation.
+
+In his preface, Mr Schlesinger protests his impartiality, and on this
+score we have no fault to find with him. Some of his parliamentary
+portraits, however, are perhaps a little tinged by his political
+predilections. In the main they are extremely correct, and the
+likenesses undeniable. Mr Disraeli, Lord John Russell, Lord Palmerston,
+Colonel Sibthorp, are his four most prominent pictures. Lord John
+himself would hardly claim the designation of “a great orator” bestowed
+upon him by his German admirer, who, in other respects, gives a truthful
+and happy delineation of the Whig statesman. But the following sketch is
+the gem of the parliamentary chapter.
+
+“‘So that is my Lord Palmerston,’ whispered Dr Keif, parodying his
+friend Kappelbaumer—‘that is the “_God-preserve-us_” of all rational
+Continental cabinets? He yonder with the white whiskers, the finely-cut
+features, the striped neckcloth, and the brown trousers, which he
+probably got as a present from Mazzini? Yonder elderly gentleman, lying
+rather than sitting upon his bench, and chatting with his neighbour as
+he might do in a tavern? Now, by Metternich! this Lord Palmerston looks
+so cordial, that, if I had not read the German newspapers for many years
+past, I never would have believed all the wickedness there is in him. To
+think that yonder people do not scruple to converse with him! with a
+convicted partisan of rebels, in whose company no respectable citizen of
+Vienna or Berlin would be seen to cross a street! But, as we say, there
+is nothing in a man’s looks. He does not look in the least like a rebel
+or a conspirator. And yet to think of all the rude notes he has
+written!’
+
+“‘That is just because he is a great diplomatist,’ remarked Sir John,
+with much unction. ‘We like him so much the more because you, across the
+water, hate, and fear, and throw stones at him. He has the luck to be as
+popular at home as he is abused abroad. When that is not the case with a
+minister of foreign affairs, better pension him off at once. He is
+appointed for the very purpose of barking and snapping all round the
+house, to keep off intruders and thieves. And can you deny that Lord
+Palmerston perfectly performed his bull-dog mission? Was he not always
+on his legs? Did he not lustily bark like a chained watch-dog, so that
+all the neighbours round respected him? And did he ever bite anybody?
+No, you cannot say that he ever bit anybody. Only showed his teeth.
+Nothing more. That was enough. And that, merely by so doing, he
+frightened you all, that, we well know, is what you will never forgive.’
+
+“‘I would give anything in the world,’ cried Dr Keif, ‘to hear him make
+a little speech. How does he speak?’
+
+“‘In a way I well like to hear,’ answered Sir John; ‘out and openly; no
+pathos, no emotion—sensibly, intelligibly—and above all, courteously and
+politely, as befits an English gentleman. It is not in his nature to be
+rude; he cannot be so, except when he takes pen in hand to write abroad.
+In the House he is never personal; and yet nobody better knows how to
+turn a troublesome questioner into ridicule, often in the most innocent
+manner, so that it is impossible to be angry with him.
+
+“‘I was in the House last summer,’ continued Sir John, ‘when Mr
+So-and-so questioned him about the foreign refugees. In such cases
+members do not put to a minister the straightforward question, Have you
+answered this or that note? but they make an introduction a yard long,
+ramble round and round the subject like cats round a plate of porridge,
+make a long rhetorical display before coming to the point. Mr So-and-so
+made a lengthy discourse—spoke until the sweat broke out upon his brow
+from sheer liberalism and sympathy with the refugees; at last he got to
+his question, Whether it was true that several Continental governments
+had demanded that the British Government should keep watch over the
+proceedings of the refugees in London? what governments those were?
+whether the Secretary of State for foreign affairs had replied to the
+demand? and whether he had any objection to lay before the House the
+correspondence concerning it? The question was not a very agreeable one
+to a minister in Lord Palmerston’s position. During the speech by which
+it was prefaced, he sat with his head bent forward and his legs crossed,
+pulling his hat down lower and lower upon his forehead, and frequently
+passing his handkerchief across his face. It seemed as if he perspired
+even more than his interrogator; he was evidently in the most painful
+embarrassment what to reply. Mr So-and-so made an end and sat down. The
+House was so silent that one could plainly distinguish the snoring of
+some drowsy members on the back benches; Palmerston slowly rose, and
+requested the speaker to repeat his question in plainer terms, it not
+having been put with sufficient clearness the first time. The fact was,
+it had been put so clearly and plainly that in the gallery we lost not a
+syllable. Oho! thought I, and many with me—something wrong here; the
+noble Lord wants to gain a few minutes to prepare his reply. Mr
+So-and-so probably thought the same thing. He got up with the air of a
+man who feels confident that he has found a sore place, and repeated his
+question in the following simplified form: “I beg to ask the Secretary
+of State for foreign affairs,” he said, “which are the foreign
+governments that have demanded of the British Cabinet that it should
+exercise _surveillance_ over the political refugees in London?” He
+paused. There was dead silence. Lord Palmerston rose with solemn
+slowness, took off his hat, cleared his throat, as if he were about to
+make a long speech, said very quickly, “Not one”—threw his hat upon his
+head and himself back upon his seat. You may imagine the stupefied
+countenance of the questioner, and the roar of laughter in the House. Do
+you suppose Lord Palmerston had not at once understood the question? He
+understood it perfectly; but his meditative attitude, his request for
+its repetition, his solemn uprising, his clearing of his throat, his
+very perspiration—all, everything was diplomatic roguery, intended to
+heighten the effect of the two carelessly-spoken monosyllables, “Not
+one.” His interrogator looked ridiculous enough, but Lord Palmerston had
+said nothing that could offend him. The minister had so far attained his
+object that for some time afterwards he was not plagued with questions
+about refugees. Such scenes do not bear telling; they must be witnessed.
+When Lord Palmerston pleases, the House laughs, and all laugh, and no
+man is hit so hard that he cannot laugh with the rest.’”
+
+Proceeding from a foreign pen, this lively parliamentary sketch must be
+admitted to be wonderfully truthful. Mr Schlesinger was particularly
+struck, upon his visits to the House of Commons, by two things, and
+these were, the longwindedness of the orators, and their ungraceful
+gesticulation. An English orator, he says, seems to make up his mind
+beforehand to abstain from gestures, and does his best to put his hands
+in a place of safety. Some of the attitudes, which are the consequence
+of this desire, he justly describes as neither tasteful nor elegant.
+“One man thrusts his hands into his breeches’ pockets, another sticks
+them into his waistcoat armholes, some hide them inside their
+waistcoats, or under their coat tails, others take a Napoleonic
+attitude. Thus do they begin their speeches. But, as the Englishman is
+wont to linger no short time over the mere exordium of his harangue; as
+he is capable of talking much longer about nothing than is commonly
+supposed upon the Continent; as he has very good lungs; and as a large
+portion of the British public is apt to estimate a speech’s value by its
+length, it is quite conceivable that he cannot maintain, during the
+whole duration of his discourse, the posture he adopts at its
+commencement. Besides this, he may warm as he goes on, and, when this is
+the case, he displays the strangest action of his arms and of his whole
+body.” In this paragraph, Mr Schlesinger makes one grave mistake. With
+the exception of a very limited number of methodical old fogies—slaves
+to habit, and the curse of their clubs—who, having nothing else in the
+world to do, make it the business of their lives to read the debates
+from the first line to the last, we know of no class in the United
+Kingdom that would not heartily rejoice if members of Parliament would
+cultivate brevity of speech and early hours, as advantageous alike to
+their own health and to the business of the country. “What a capital
+speech; it took an hour and a half in delivery!” Such, according to Mr
+Schlesinger, is the form of praise often heard in England. He blunders
+here. People will certainly listen with pleasure for an hour and a half,
+or for thrice as long, if they have the chance, to the earnest and fiery
+eloquence of a Derby—to the graceful, lucid, and often witty discourse
+of a Palmerston—to the polished and scholarly periods of a Macaulay—to
+the incisive oratory of a Disraeli. They will even lend their attention
+to the somewhat drawling and monotonous, although business-like delivery
+of the Whig leader whom Mr Schlesinger has dubbed a great orator,
+because Lord John is supposed not to be one of those Englishmen whom his
+German admirer has declared to be capable of talking a long while about
+nothing at all. But Mr Schlesinger has taken a part for the whole, and
+imagines that English willingness to hear and read the long discourses
+of a few chosen and gifted men, extends itself to the lame prose of the
+first noodle who takes advantage of dinner-time to inflict himself upon
+a bare house, a yawning gallery, and reporters with closed note-books.
+Let him take the confession of members, public, and reporters, as to the
+feelings with which they listen to an infinitesimal economical
+calculation, or to a two hours’ blatter about Borneo, from Mr Hume; or
+to a monody on Poland, or eulogium of Kossuth, from the lips of that
+most wearisome of well-meaning men, Lord Dudley Coutts Stuart. He will
+find that in England the value of a speech is not—as Byron says that of
+a very different thing should be—“measured by its length.”
+
+Probably the two things that foreigners, upon a visit to London, are
+most curious to see, are the Thames tunnel and Greenwich. Mr
+Schlesinger, Dr Keif, and Frolick—who seems an easy-going man-about-town
+sort of cockney, delighted to have the pretext of ciceronism to revisit
+all manner of queer haunts—take ship at London Bridge, their minds upon
+white bait intent. They find much to say upon the way, and are very
+pleasant and amusing. In the beginning Mr Schlesinger moralises upon the
+crowd of colliers, more precious, he maintains, to Britain than ever
+were gold-laden galleons to Spain. “Take from the British Isles their
+coals,” he says; “pour gold, silver, and diamonds, into the gloomy
+shafts; fill them with all the coins that have been coined, since the
+world’s commencement, by good and bad princes, and you will not replace
+the inflammable spark that lies dormant in the coal, and which creates
+vitality by its own exhaustion.” Then he turns his attention to his
+fellow-passengers by the steam-boat, and remarks that the difference of
+classes is not so strongly defined by costume in England as in France
+and Germany. He misses the linen frocks or blouses worn on the Continent
+by men of a class which, in England, is usually clad in broadcloth,
+though this be often ragged or threadbare. “In London,” he says, “if you
+see, early in the morning, a man hurrying along the street in a black
+coat, round hat, and white cravat, do not take him for a professor
+hastening to his college, or for an attaché to an embassy conveying
+important despatches to his chief. He probably has soap-box, strap, and
+razor in his pocket, or at best is shopman to some Regent Street
+haberdasher—he may be a waiter, a tailor, a shoemaker, or a
+boot-cleaner. Many an omnibus-driver sits white-cravated upon his lofty
+box, and drives his horses as gravely as a Methodist preacher leads his
+flock. Amongst Englishwomen, also, the difference of rank is not very
+easy to be inferred from their dress. Coloured silks, black velvet, and
+hats with botanical appurtenances, are worn by the maid as by her
+mistress.” This general uniformity of costume in England strikes most
+foreigners, and shocks many. Frenchmen, in particular, consider the use
+of old and second-hand clothes, common amongst the lower classes of our
+countrymen and countrywomen, as a sort of degrading barbarism. An
+amusingly impertinent French journalist, in a little book now before us,
+states his view of the matter in colours which are certainly vivid, but
+can hardly be called exaggerated. “The eternal black coat and white
+cravat!” he exclaims. “One might take the people for so many gentlemen
+of high degree, condescending, in their leisure moments, or from
+eccentric caprice, to weigh sugar and measure calico. Thus it was that I
+took the grocer, in whose house I lodge, for a gentleman, and, through
+stupid pride, dared not bargain for my apartment, for which I pay twice
+its value. The history of an English black coat would fill a volume, at
+once comic and philosophical. One must take it up at its birth, when it
+quits the premises of a fashionable tailor to grace the shoulders of
+Lord ——, who pays seven or eight guineas for it, on account of its
+inimitable cut. Thrown, a fortnight later, to the nobleman’s
+valet-de-chambre, it passes to the second-hand dandy, then from back to
+back, lengthened, shortened, always descending in the social scale,
+losing its buttons, gaining holes, and at last devolving to the poor
+devil who sweeps a crossing, over which prance the splendid horses of
+the lord who was its first possessor. Poor coat! Sold at last for three
+shillings; its fragments finally used to polish a table or cleanse a
+kitchen floor, until they are bought by the hundredweight and cast into
+the mill, to reappear in some new form. The fate of the coat is also
+that of the gown. The lady’s gown and hat begin their career in the
+drawing-room, and end it in the gutter. We foreigners are always
+shocked, on our first arrival in England, to see the servant-maids
+washing the door-steps in bonnets, which once were of velvet, and now
+are of nothing at all! One sometimes observes upon them certain vestiges
+which, plunged into Marsh’s apparatus and analysed by a skilful chemist,
+might be recognised as fragments of feathers, shreds of lace, or stalks
+of flowers. Does the cook who wears this cast-off covering, who wraps
+herself, to go to market, in a tattered shawl, on whose surface holes
+and stains vie for the mastery, imagine that she will be taken for her
+mistress going to buy her own butter and vegetables, as an agreeable
+change from the daily routine of park and opera? What strange vanity is
+it that peeps through these ragged garments? Why do these honest
+Englishmen prefer a gentleman’s old clothes to the clean blouse or warm
+strong jacket they might get for the same price?” There is considerable
+truth in these remarks, especially as regards men’s coats and women’s
+head-dress, although we do not believe, as does the Frenchman we have
+quoted, that the wearing of second-hand clothes proceeds, on the part at
+least of English _men_ of the lower classes, from a desire to ape their
+superiors. It is one of those habits one can hardly explain, which we
+may designate as _cosa de Inglaterra_, just as Spaniards define as _cosa
+de España_ any peculiar and eccentric usage of their country. We must
+submit the matter, one of these days, to our old friend and contributor,
+the author of the “Æsthetics of Dress.” Of one thing we are very sure,
+that no one possessing an eye—we will not say for the picturesque, but
+for what is neat, appropriate, and convenient—can travel on the
+Continent, without drawing between the everyday dress of the English
+lower orders and that of the corresponding classes in most foreign
+countries, comparisons highly unfavourable to the former. And this is
+the more surprising that, in most things, neatness is peculiarly an
+English characteristic. Witness the trim gardens, the whitewashed
+cottages, the well-swept courts of our villages, the vigorous
+application of brush, broom, and soap in the humblest dwellings of
+Britain. But a line must be drawn between the country and the towns. In
+the latter, the appearance of the lower classes is anything but well
+calculated to inspire foreigners with a high opinion of their regard to
+the external proprieties. We share our French friend’s horror of greasy,
+threadbare coats, and of bonnets requiring chemical decomposition to
+ascertain their primitive materials; and, were it possible, we would
+gladly see the former replaced by the coarse clean frock or jacket; the
+latter by the cheap coloured handkerchief or straw-hat, which looks so
+neat and becoming upon the heads of Continental peasant and
+servant-women. It is to be feared, however, that to agitate the change
+would be but a profitless crusade. The fault—and a fault we think it
+must be admitted to be—lies in the total absence of anything like a
+national costume. In all the more highly civilised European countries,
+this, however graceful, has been abandoned by the upper classes in
+favour of a conventional, and certainly, in most respects, a graceless
+dress. But in all those countries, except in England, that national
+costume has been either retained, to a certain extent, by the people, or
+exchanged for one more in harmony with their occupations—not discarded
+in favour of such absurdities as long-tailed coats and high-crowned
+beavers.
+
+At the Thames Tunnel the two Germans and their companion pause, and Mr
+Schlesinger gives an account of its origin and progress, which will have
+novelty and interest even for many Londoners. On reaching Greenwich, the
+party admire the hospital—the finest architectural group of modern
+England, according to Mr Schlesinger, with whom, notwithstanding the
+florid pretensions of the new Houses of Parliament, we quite agree on
+this score. Greenwich is unquestionably the only royal palace England
+possesses worthy of the name. Windsor Castle ranks in a different
+category. “Take the most ingenious architect in the world,” says Mr
+Schlesinger, “bind his eyes, and bring him to the platform on which we
+now stand; then, removing the bandage, ask him the purpose of this
+magnificent pile. If he does not at once say that it is a king’s palace,
+he is either the most narrow-minded or the sharpest-witted mortal that
+ever drew the plan of a house. Who would suspect that all this splendour
+of columns and cupolas is devoted to the service of poor crippled old
+sailors? That it nevertheless is so, does honour to the founders and to
+the English nation.” And then Mr Schlesinger, who is a bit of a
+_frondeur_, and not very indulgent to his own country’s defects and
+failings, contrasts the thoughtful care, tender kindness, and splendid
+provision which England’s veterans find at Chelsea and Greenwich, with
+the deficiencies and discomforts of the analogous institution at Vienna,
+and with the absence of any at all at Berlin. Passing the Trafalgar,
+which he recommends to all “who are willing to pay more money for a good
+dinner than would keep an Irish family for a week,” he moralises his way
+through the Park—then full of holiday-makers, for it is Monday, and “the
+people indemnify themselves for the rigidity of English
+Sabbath-observance.” A dinner at Lovegrove’s, and speculations upon
+white bait, conclude a pleasant day and an amusing chapter.
+
+Mr Tremplin is described as a little elderly gentleman, with hair curled
+in a very youthful fashion, rosy cheeks, and a forest of grey whisker
+which would make him look quite fierce, but for the expression of
+mingled good-humour and vanity that twinkles in his little black eyes.
+For twenty years he had been in the habit of paying an occasional week’s
+visit to Sir John, and upon each succeeding visit he found London more
+and more gloomy and unbearable. Nothing less than his affection for his
+old friends could have induced him to exchange his heavenly Paris for
+the fogs of Thames. When in England, however, he amiably concealed his
+dissatisfaction, ate and drank like an Englishman, laughed and joked
+with the ladies from morning till night, and wiped his eyes when he took
+his leave. Between him and Dr Keif vehement discussions were of frequent
+occurrence. Tremplin was inexhaustible in his laudation of France; and
+this the doctor could the less endure, that this adulator of Paris was
+himself a German by birth, although he had passed his life in the French
+capital, had made his little fortune in the Opera Passage, and, like
+most renegades, out-Heroding Herod, was infinitely more French than a
+native-born Frenchman. Had he been an undeniable Parisian, Dr Keif might
+perhaps, from courtesy, have spared his feelings; but the Austrian
+journalist had no consideration for the feelings of a Frenchman who had
+first seen the light at Frankfort-on-the-Maine, and he gave his
+sarcastic tongue full swing. At dinner, one day, at Sir John’s, we find
+them at it, hammer-and-tongs; Monsieur Tremplin holding up Paris as an
+example in all respects to the entire universe; Dr Keif, exasperated by
+this exorbitant claim, sneering bitterly at the pretension.
+
+“‘It is inconceivable,’ cried the doctor, ‘that all the world beside
+does not sit idle, since Paris is there to think and work for it. What
+does one need for universal regeneration beyond the _Journal des
+Débats_, which signifies enlightenment—Mademoiselle Rachel, who
+represents the æsthetical education of mankind—and the _Chasseurs
+d’Afrique_ as the representatives of freedom? Even in the Paris
+_cancan_, immoral as it may seem, there is doubtless grace and decency
+enough to civilise half a world. Eh? What say you? And if France is
+found one morning in the guardhouse, it is merely because she has danced
+like mad the whole night through for the good of oppressed humanity, and
+her evil case is but a witty trick, suggested by the most profound ideas
+of emancipation; for, _enfin_, France can do whatever she wills to do.
+She undertakes, in broad daylight and before the eyes of all Europe, to
+lie down in the dirtiest gutter, and she succeeds. Woe to the benighted
+people who do not forthwith follow her example, who cannot see that a
+gutter in which France wallows must lead straight to salvation. The
+French are the most conceited and crazy people on the earth’s surface—a
+nation of witty fools, of genial ragamuffins, of old _gamins_ and
+revolutionary lacqueys, who can neither govern themselves nor be
+governed, for any length of time, by God’s grace; they consequently,
+after their fourth revolution and third republic, will seek safety at
+the feet of an Orleanist or Bourbon prince, whom they will replace,
+after a while, by some romantic hairdresser, dancing-master, or cook,
+elected by universal suffrage. For my part, I vote for Soyer: he has at
+least the merit of having established a good school of cookery at the
+Reform Club.’”
+
+Whilst extracting this tirade of the incorrigible Keif’s, we have taken
+no notice of the frequent interruptions attempted by the unfortunate
+German-Frenchman. The doctor’s flowers of rhetoric were far from
+fragrant to the nostrils of Tremplin, and the vein of truth that ran
+through his discourse made its somewhat brutal and exaggerated form yet
+harder to bear. “The most audacious blasphemy,” says Mr Schlesinger,
+“shouted into the ear of an English bishop’s grandmother, might have an
+effect approaching to that which the compliments of the excited Keif had
+upon his neighbour’s nerves.” Purple and perspiring, and unable to get
+in a word, poor Tremplin received one rattling volley after another,
+vainly endeavouring to escape from the iron grip the doctor kept upon
+the topmost button of his coat. At last he was released, with a parting
+prod from Keif’s barbed tongue.
+
+“‘Notwithstanding their deeply sunken condition,’ the doctor said, ‘it
+is undeniable that the French, like the Spaniards, Italians, and Irish,
+are still a witty, diverting, and highly interesting nation.’
+
+“‘_Infiniment obligé!_’ screamed Tremplin, breaking from the doctor,
+making a low bow, and thrice repeating the words, ‘How said you?
+Di-vert-ing! _Infiniment obligé, Monsieur le Docteur!_ Your German
+modesty inspires you with charming compliments.’
+
+“‘No compliment, Monsieur Tremplin,’ replied Keif: ‘merely my honest
+opinion.’
+
+“The Frenchman cast an epigrammatical side-glance at the doctor,
+buttoned his coat to the chin, as if arming himself for an important
+decision, and exclaimed in a loud voice: ‘You are’—(A long pause ensued,
+during which all present rose in confusion from their seats.) ‘You are
+totally unacquainted with Paris!’
+
+“‘And what then?’ said Dr Keif.
+
+“‘That is enough, I need to know no more. _Enfin_....’ And with a shrug
+of the shoulders in which the doctor should have beheld his moral
+annihilation, Mr Tremplin turned his back upon his opponent.”
+
+Some minutes elapsed before the agitation caused by this little scene
+completely subsided. In the embrasure of a window, the lady of the house
+poured balm into poor Tremplin’s wounds; Keif paced the room, his
+complexion green and yellow, visibly struggling with the consciousness
+that he had been too hard upon the poor little Frenchman—rather rudely
+vehement and sarcastic; Sir John alone remained at table, balancing a
+silver dessert-knife, and making a small speech, to which nobody
+listened, in praise of the admirable parliamentary order observed at
+English public dinners. “‘There, when did it occur to anybody, before
+the removal of the cloth, to speak on more serious subjects than the
+domestic virtues of turtle and turbot, the tenderness of the lamb and
+venison, the age and excellence of the wines, and the qualities of all
+those good things of the earth which are so exquisitely adapted to
+promote the harmonious intercourse of Whigs and Tories, High Churchmen
+and Dissenters, landlords and cotton lords? There is the great point.
+That is what foreigners will not learn. They do nothing at the right
+time and nothing thoroughly, therefore do they eat gall and brew
+poison.’” There may be more than one grain of truth in the baronet’s
+words, Mr Schlesinger opines, but he does not stay to discuss the
+subject. It was written that the evening should be one of scrutiny and
+controversy. The feud between Keif and Tremplin having been easily put
+an end to by Sir John’s good-humoured intervention, the conversation
+again became general. The doctor must go out at nine o’clock, he said;
+he had promised to accompany Frolick to the theatre, and in a stroll
+through the theatrical district of London. This brought up Tremplin—not,
+indeed, to renew wordy combat with the formidable antagonist by whom he
+had been so recently worsted, but to express his astonishment that
+anybody could go to a London theatre in the dead season. He had always
+understood that the only theatres to which _comme-il-faut_ people went
+in London were the Italian operas and the miniature French playhouse in
+St James’s, and these were then closed. It was true that the queen
+annually honoured the obscure English theatres with a few visits, but
+that was merely out of complaisance to English prejudices. The ladies
+protested against this depreciation of the English drama; but the
+Parisian, who had quite forgotten his late indignation and discomfiture,
+did but smile and politely persist—developing his notions on an infinite
+variety of subjects with that easy, urbane, superficial dogmatism which
+characterises the very numerous class of Frenchmen who combine unbounded
+admiration of their own nation and country with slight esteem for, and
+considerable ignorance of, all others.
+
+“‘_Mesdames!_’ he exclaimed, ‘you have no idea of all that you forego by
+living in London. It is well for you that you have never been in Paris,
+or you would feel like Eve when banished from Paradise, to which she
+would so gladly have returned for a chat with the seductive serpent.
+_Pardieu_, Paris! There, everyday life is an enchanting drama; every
+drawing-room is a stage; every chamber has its wings; and every one,
+from the porter to the duke, has perfectly learned his part. The
+theatres that open at night do but display and illuminate, with a
+magical light, the day’s comedy. Your worthy English people can neither
+act nor judge of acting. An English actor is a creature as much out of
+nature as a Parisian quaker. Where do you find most passion for the
+art—here or with us? Paris has hardly half so many inhabitants as
+London, but has many more theatres, and they are always as full as your
+churches. The poorest artisan cannot exist without sunning himself in
+the radiance of the stage; and will live for two days of the week on
+bread and milk, in order to save a few _sous_ for the _Variétés_ or the
+_Funambules_ on Sunday evening. Show me the Englishman who will
+sacrifice a mouthful of his bloody roast-beef for the sake of a refined
+enjoyment. No, no;—you weave and spin, and steam and hammer, and eat and
+drink, with God knows how many horses’ power; but as to enjoying life,
+you do not understand it. Am I right, _Madame_?’”
+
+The ladies looked at each other, but were not ready with an answer. Sir
+John shook his head as he sat in his arm-chair, and remarked that there
+were good grounds for the difference. The Frenchman would not admit
+their goodness, and launched into an energetic diatribe against the
+strictness of London Sabbath-observance. We take it for granted that,
+even if the personages introduced into Mr Schlesinger’s book are not
+imaginary, the conversations he gives are chiefly of his own
+composition, intended to display the different sides of the various
+questions discussed; and that a _juste milieu_ between the rather
+extreme views expressed by Keif and Tremplin, and occasionally by Sir
+John, may be adopted with tolerable certainty as the measure of the
+author’s own opinions. Of this last point we feel the more convinced, by
+the moderate and sensible manner in which Mr Schlesinger expresses
+himself when speaking in his own person. His delineation of the
+representatives of England, Germany, and France, and the manner in which
+he puts them through their parts, is really very spirited and clever.
+Without, of course, in the slightest degree coinciding in the levity and
+irreverence of the profane Parisian, we will give a further specimen of
+his views and notions concerning this country, its condition and
+institutions; views and notions which, allowing for the tinge (only a
+slight one) of humorous caricature thrown in by Mr Schlesinger, are, in
+our firm belief—we might almost say, to our certain knowledge—those of a
+great number of Monsieur Tremplin’s fellow-citizens. Having taken up the
+ball of conversation, the Frenchman ran on with it at a canter,
+curvetting and kicking up his heels with huge self-satisfaction, and
+highly pleased at having an opportunity of showing himself at once
+patriotic, eloquent, and gallant. He proceeded to explain the causes of
+the decline of the British drama.
+
+“In the first place,” he said, “the performance of a play would
+desecrate the Sunday evening. The Sabbath must be ended as wearisomely
+as it is begun. If one speaks of this to an Englishman, he pulls a long
+face, and talks about the morality of the lower orders. How moral the
+English lower orders are! One sees that every Monday, when the drunken
+cases are brought up at the police offices. One man has bitten off a
+constable’s nose by way of a joke; another has knocked down his wife and
+danced upon her body; a third has cut open his better-half’s head with
+the poker. All morality and liquor; but, thank heaven, they have not
+been to the theatre—any more than to church. Don’t tell me, because you
+have more churches than there are days in the calendar, that your poor
+people go to them; there is no room for them. Your churches are for
+respectable citizens, with cash jingling in their pockets. Then again,
+there are thousands of quakers, methodists, and other fanatics, who
+consider it a deadly sin to visit a theatre even upon working days. And
+finally, you are all such smoky fireside people—so given to stick in
+your shells like snails—that it is a punishment to you to have to creep
+out of your houses; or else you have such a silly passion for green
+grass, that you go and live at the end of the world, where you need a
+carriage to bring you home from the theatre by daybreak. These terrible
+distances ruin the pocket, and cramp civilisation. Your much-be-praised
+Englishmen, doctor, have not got a monopoly of wisdom. But I pity them
+not. It is for the poor daughters of Albion that I feel sorry. Upon my
+honour, ladies, I should not grieve if Napoleon’s glorious dream were to
+be realised. Ha, ha! That would be a life! Fancy our _grande armée_
+leaping one day upon the British shores. Before the sun is up the
+_braves_ are in the city, say _bonjour_, conquer, and are forthwith
+conquered—by the charms of the fair-haired Anglo-Saxons. Our soldiers
+ask nothing in the way of acknowledgment. Keep your bank, your religion,
+and your lord mayor. The sole glory desired by France is, to annihilate
+the dragon of English _ennui_. Hand in hand with the fair sex, the
+invincible army achieves that feat. On the first evening there is a
+great fraternity-ball at Vauxhall; the next morning appears a manifesto
+in the name of the liberating army, by which the erection of at least
+one French vaudeville theatre in every parish is decreed, as the sole
+reward of the victors; and in a few years, when these new institutions
+have taken firm root in the hearts of the English people, the heroic
+army returns to sunny France, promising to come back should you relapse
+into your puritanical hypochondria. The daughters of Albion stand upon
+their chalky cliffs, and wring their white hands in grief at their
+deliverers’ departure. What say you to this picture? Is it not
+chivalrous? Is it not replete with the most affecting disinterestedness?
+And do you doubt that it dwells in the hearts of thousands of
+Frenchmen?”
+
+If Monsieur Tremplin here paused, it was for breath rather than for a
+reply. Certainly it was not for want of matter, for he quickly resumed
+his satirical commentary on English usages, rattling off a string of
+libels on the dress and carriage of Englishwomen, on English musical
+taste, &c. &c.—the whole for the special benefit of Keif, whom he had
+got into a corner, the ladies being now busy tea-making. In the heap of
+flippancy and exaggeration, a few sparkles of sense and truth are
+discernible; not all the Frenchman’s arrows fly wide of the mark. He
+laughs pitilessly at the medley of colours frequently seen in ladies’
+dresses in England; talks of “a scarlet shawl over an apple-green gown
+with yellow flounces, and a cavalry hat with ostrich feathers” (the
+judicious assortment of colours is one of the great studies and
+occupations of a Parisian woman’s life), and is altogether abominably
+disrespectful and scandalous in his remarks upon the fair sex of Great
+Britain, although he speaks in raptures of the beauty of “the raw
+material”—the beautiful hair, form, complexion, and so forth. Presently
+he gets upon the opera, and the dress exacted as a condition of
+admission. “Dresscoats and black trousers—why not powder and bagwigs? It
+is written in the _Morning Post_ that seven delicate ladies, in the
+first row of boxes, once fell into picturesque fainting fits, because a
+foreigner with a coloured neckcloth had smuggled himself into the pit.
+Be it observed that he had paid his bright Victorias at the door like
+anybody else. Dress-coat is indispensable—black trousers ditto; but coat
+and trousers may be old, dirty, threadbare. It strikes one as strange,
+that, besides paying his money, he is to be tutored by the servants at a
+theatre-door.” Keif, listening with smiling indulgence to the petulant
+Frenchman, occasionally presumes to differ from him, or at least to
+modify his strictures on English tastes and usages. “One meets with very
+good musical connoisseurs in this country,” says the doctor; “but I
+confess that the British public’s digestive powers, in respect of music,
+often astonish me. John Bull sits out two symphonies by Beethoven, an
+overture of Weber’s, a couple of fugues by Bach, half-a-score of
+Mendelssohn’s songs, and half-a-dozen other airs and variations, and
+goes home and sleeps like a marmot. At the theatre he will take in a
+tragedy by Shakespeare, a three-act comedy from the French, a ballet,
+and a substantial London farce. All that does not spoil his stomach.”
+Tremplin was delighted to find the doctor falling into his line. “Yes,”
+he said, “nothing satisfies these people but quantity. The Englishman
+throws down his piece of gold and asks for a hundredweight of music”—and
+he urged the doctor to go to Paris. Sir John was the best creature in
+the world, but he was an original—an oddity. The doctor, upon the other
+hand, was a man of sense and observation; and before he had worn out a
+couple of pair of shoe-soles upon the asphalt of the boulevards, his
+eyes would be opened.
+
+“_Pardieu!_ Paris!” cried the little man, getting very excited. “The
+whole civilised world dresses itself out in the cast-off clothes of
+Paris. What has Paris not? Do you wish religion? There are Lacordaire,
+Lamennais, and the _Univers_. Religion of all sorts. Are you a lover of
+philosophy? Go to Proudhon. For my part, to speak candidly, I care
+neither for philosophy nor religion; both are _mauvais genre_, and I
+should not mind if M. Proudhon were hung; but that does not prevent me,
+as a Frenchman, from being proud of him. In a word, you will convince
+yourself that the whole world beside is but a bad imitation of Paris.
+There you find heaven and the other place, order and freedom, the
+romance of orgies and the solitude of the cloister, all combined in the
+most beautiful harmony—in the most magnificent and elegant form. Of one
+thing especially”—and Tremplin laid his hand, with the earnestness of an
+apostle, upon the shoulder of the astounded Keif—“be well assured, and
+that is, that nowhere but in Paris can you learn to speak French.
+Impossible. You never catch the accent. England’s climate is the most
+dangerous of all for the pronunciation. I, an old Parisian, still am
+sensible of the pestilential influence the jargon here spoken has upon
+my tongue; and whenever I return to Paris from London, I feel ashamed
+before my own porter.”
+
+The hour was come for Keif to bend his steps theatrewards. Sir John
+escorted him to the door, and apologised, by the way, for the
+provocation Tremplin had given him at dinner. It was some slighting
+remark about Germans—an intimated opinion that they would never be
+accessory to the combustion of the Thames—that had first roused the ire
+of Keif, and provoked his tremendous denunciation of Frenchmen as all
+that is frivolous, unstable, and contemptible.
+
+“‘What can you expect from a Frenchman?’ said Sir John. ‘He is a
+harmless soul, but a great oddity; one might make money by exhibiting
+him in Piccadilly. When I first knew him I took some trouble with him,
+and tried to give him an idea of what England is; but, as the proverb
+says, you cannot argue a dog’s hind-leg straight. You will never catch
+_me_ arguing with him again.’”
+
+Keif went his way, chuckling at the notion of this precious pair of
+mortals taxing each other with oddity, and totally unconscious that he
+himself was as great an oddity as either of them. It was long after
+midnight when he returned home. Everybody was gone to bed, the servant
+told him, except Sir John and Monsieur. He found them at their
+chamber-doors; with candles, burnt low, in their hands. The baronet had
+forgotten his resolution;—he was trying to argue the dog’s hind-leg
+straight. The pair were in the heat and fervour of a discussion, which
+had evidently been of long duration. Shakspeare and Frenchwomen were its
+rather strangely assorted subjects. The doctor caught a few sentences as
+he passed, wished the disputants good night, and turned into bed. Fully
+a quarter of an hour elapsed before they evacuated the lobby to follow
+his example. Keif laughed to himself.
+
+“‘So,’ he said, ‘in Monsieur Tremplin’s eyes, Shakespeare is deficient
+in power; and Sir John denies that Frenchwomen are graceful! Was there
+ever such a pair of originals?’ And so saying, the third original went
+to sleep.”
+
+We need hardly say that the ramble of Dr Keif (by whom we suspect Mr
+Schlesinger himself is meant) through the theatrical purlieus, furnished
+abundant materials for a chapter. It was Saturday—the very night to see
+the Drury district in its glory; for wages had been paid, and after
+twelve no liquor would be sold; so the fortunate recipients of cash were
+making the most of the short night. This chapter, like some others in
+the book, shows such a thorough familiarity with, and correct perception
+of, London low life—is so totally different, in short, from the
+blundering and exaggerated pictures one usually meets with in accounts
+of London by foreigners—that we are more than once tempted, whilst
+reading it, to suspect the writer of unacknowledged obligations to
+English authors. But Mr Schlesinger has, we have no doubt, been long
+resident in England, and as he, moreover, in one or two instances,
+indicates by a note his appropriation of English materials, we dismiss
+from our mind the idea of unconfessed plagiarism. Since we do so, we
+must not refuse him the praise to which his faithful and striking
+sketches fairly entitle him. With him and Frolick, we turn out of the
+Strand, through a narrow court, into Drury Lane.
+
+“In the shops which occupy the ground floor of almost all the houses,
+are exposed for sale, at low prices, shabby female apparel, coarse
+eatables, low literature with horrible illustrations, strong shoes, old
+clothes, abominable cigars, cold and hot meat. But the most prominent
+feature in the whole of Drury Lane is the gin palace, whose favourite
+station is at corners, where the lane is intersected by cross streets.
+The gin palace contrasts with the adjacent buildings pretty much as does
+a Catholic church with the cottages of a Slavonian village. From afar it
+looms like a lighthouse to the thirsty working man; for it is sumptuous
+with plate glass and gilt cornices, and dazzling with a hundred
+many-coloured inscriptions. Here, in the window, is the portrait of a
+giant from Norfolk, who is employed in the house to draw liquor and
+customers; yonder, in green letters upon the pane, we read—‘The Only
+Genuine Brandy in London;’ or, in red letters—‘Here is sold the
+celebrated strengthening wholesome Gin, recommended by all the
+doctors’—‘Cream Gin’—‘Honey Gin’—‘Genuine Porter’—‘Rum that would knock
+down the Devil,’ &c. &c. Often the varnished door-posts are painted from
+top to bottom with suchlike spirited announcements. It is to be
+remarked, that even those gin shops which externally are the most
+brilliant, within are utterly comfortless. The landlord intrenches
+himself behind the bar, as in a fortress where his customers must not
+enter. The walls in this sanctuary are covered with a whole library of
+large and small casks, painted of various colours. The place thus
+partitioned off is sometimes a picture of cleanliness and comfort, and
+within it an arm-chair invites to repose; but in front of the bar, for
+the customers, there is nothing but a narrow dirty standing place,
+rendered yet more disagreeable by the continual opening and shutting of
+the doors, and where the only seat, if there be one at all, is afforded
+by an empty cask in a corner. Nevertheless the palace receives a
+constant succession of worthy guests, who, standing, reeling, crouching
+or lying, muttering, groaning or cursing, drink and—forget.
+
+“On sober working days, and in tolerable weather, there is nothing
+remarkable, to the uninitiated, in the appearance of Drury Lane. Many a
+little German capital is worse lighted, and not so well paved. Misery is
+less plainly legible upon the physiognomy of this district than upon
+that of Spitalfields, St Giles’s, Saffron Hill, and other wretched
+corners of London. But at certain times it oozes, like Mississippi
+slime, out of every pore. On Saturday evenings, after working-hours, on
+the evening of holiday-Monday, and after church on Sunday, Drury Lane is
+seen in its glory. On the other hand, Sunday morning in Drury Lane is
+enough to give the most cheerful person the spleen. For the poorer
+classes of labourers the Lord’s day is a day of penance, without church
+to go to or walk to take. The well-dressed throngs that fill parks and
+churches scare smock-frock and fustian-jacket into the beer-shops. For
+the English proletarian is ashamed of his rags, and knows not how to
+drape himself with them picturesquely, like the Spanish or Italian
+lazzarone, who holds beggary to be an honourable calling. In the deepest
+misery, the Englishman has still pride enough to shun the society of
+those even half a grade superior to himself, and to confine himself to
+that of his equals, amongst whom he may freely raise his head. And then
+church and park have no charm for him. His legs are too weary for a walk
+into the country; boat, omnibus, and railway, are too dear. His church,
+his park, his club, his theatre, his refuge from the exhalations of the
+sewers above which he dwells and sleeps, are the gin palace.”
+
+This is a gloomy, but we fear, to a certain extent, too true a picture.
+In every large city, and particularly in such an overgrown one as
+London, a certain-amount of misery of the kind above depicted must
+exist; there must be a certain number of human beings living in a state
+of almost total deprivation of those blessings which God intended all
+his creatures to share—of a pure air, of the sight of fields and
+flowers, of opportunities to praise His name in the society of their
+fellow-men. But we are pretty sure Mr Schlesinger has lived long enough
+in England to discern, and has candour enough to admit, that in no
+country in the world are such generous, energetic, and unceasing efforts
+made by the more fortunate classes for the moral and physical betterment
+of the unfortunates whose degraded condition he graphically and truly
+describes. That which in most European countries is left almost entirely
+to the charge of government, and which is consequently often left
+undone, or at best half done, is effected in England by the cordial
+co-operation of the government and the nation, aided by a press which
+must in justice be admitted to be ever ready to give publicity to social
+grievances, to the sufferings of particular classes, and to practical
+suggestions for their alleviation or remedy. Fortunate inhabitants of a
+favoured land, we must not allow the difference just pointed out to
+inflate our national vanity over-much. In no country is there so much
+private wealth as in England, and thus, when we seem to give much, we
+may be giving not more than others whose means are less, but their will
+as good. Then there is, undeniably, another, and we should perhaps say a
+selfish, motive for the energetic, efficient, and liberal manner in
+which the opulent and well-to-do classes of Englishmen take up and
+prosecute schemes for the amelioration of their poorer countrymen. An
+observant people, shrewd in deduction, and setting common sense above
+every other mental quality, we take warning by our neighbours. And we
+feel that the best safeguard for institutions we all revere and
+cherish—the best security against sedition and revolution, and against
+the propagation, by designing knaves and misguided enthusiasts, of that
+jacobinism whose manœuvres and excesses have proved so fatal in other
+lands—is a generous and humane consideration of the wants and sufferings
+of the poorer classes, and an earnest endeavour to elevate their
+condition.
+
+And let us acknowledge, with thankfulness, that we have good stuff to
+work upon; that if the higher classes show themselves prompt in
+sacrifices, a praiseworthy patience is displayed by those they strive to
+succour. The Parisian artisan or day-labourer, although probably less of
+a bellygod than the Londoner of the same class, quickly gets irate when
+he finds bread dear and commons short; and, upon the first suggestion
+from any democrat who promises him a big loaf, is ready enough to
+“descend into the street,” tear up the pavement, build a barricade, and
+shoot his brother from behind it. Contrast this with the fortitude and
+long-suffering of the poor gin-and-beer-drinking people whom Mr
+Schlesinger qualifies (and the terms, perhaps, may not be justly
+gainsaid) as besotted and obtuse of sense. Grant that they be so; they
+yet have qualities which constitute them valuable citizens of a free
+country. They will toil, when work is to be had; they have an innate
+respect for law and order, and a manly pride which makes them shun a
+workhouse coat as an abject livery; they loathe the mendicancy in which
+the southern lazzarone luxuriates; they are not insensible to the
+benevolent efforts constantly making in their behalf; and they take
+little heed of the demagogue’s artful incitements.
+
+“There is hardly any people,” muses Mr Schlesinger, in a very different
+part of his book and of London, (when strolling at the Hyde Park end of
+Piccadilly), “that loves a green tree and an open lawn so heartily as
+the English. They have not less reverence for the noble trees in their
+parks than had the Druids for the sacred oaks in their consecrated
+groves; and it does one’s heart good to see that the struggle with
+Nature, the striving to apply her powers to wool-carding and
+spindle-turning, does not destroy the feeling for those of her beauties
+which cannot be converted into capital and interest. The English nation
+refute, in their own persons, the oft-repeated lie that ‘excessive’
+cultivation (civilisation) estranges men from their primitive childish
+feelings. In England, more than in any other part of the world, are fire
+and water, earth and air, made use of as bread-winners; in England, the
+ploughed field is fattened with manure gathered on barren reefs
+thousands of miles distant; in England, nature is forced to produce the
+enormous water-lilies of the tropics, and to ripen fruits of unnatural
+size; in England, one eats grapes from Oporto, oranges from Malta,
+peaches from Provence, pine-apples from Jamaica, bananas from St
+Domingo, and nuts from Brazil. That which the native soil produces only
+upon compulsion, and at great cost, is borrowed from other zones, but
+not on that account are his native trees and meadows, woods and
+shrubberies, less dear to the Englishman.”
+
+Mr Schlesinger will not doubt that this love of rural scenes and
+nature’s beauties, which he so happily and gracefully discriminates and
+defines, is common to all classes of Englishmen. We believe that it is,
+and we recognise in it a propitious sign. The poor people he has seen,
+during his Sabbath rambles in London’s “back-slums,” losing sight of the
+blessed sunshine, and immuring themselves in a tap-room or gin palace,
+would perhaps, but for their ragged garments, weary limbs, and scantily
+furnished pockets, have preferred, like their betters, a country ramble,
+to the cheap and deleterious excitement provided for them by Booth and
+Barclay. But we feel that we are arguing without an opponent. We can
+only trust, and we do so trust, seriously and gladly, that the day will
+never come when the consciousness that the attainment of perfection is
+impossible will deter English legislators and philanthropists from
+devoting their utmost energies and abilities to the improvement of the
+meanest and most depraved classes of their fellow-countrymen.
+
+The conviction that Shakespeare is better known, better understood, and,
+above all, better acted in Germany than in England, is very prevalent in
+the former country, where we have often heard it boldly put forward and
+sustained. When in Shakespeare’s native land, Germans may possibly be
+more modest in their pretensions; and yet we must not be too confident
+of that, when we see a German company selecting Shakespeare’s plays for
+performance before a refined and critical London audience. The recent
+performances of Emil Devrient and his companions, give especial interest
+to some theatrical criticisms put forth by Dr Keif for the benefit of
+his friend Frolick, seated by his side in the pit of the Olympic
+Theatre. He is of opinion that English actors, when rendering
+Shakespeare’s characters, cling too tenaciously to tradition, and aim
+too little at originality. After a visit to a penny theatre, of the
+proceedings at which he gives a most laughable account, he returns, at
+some length, to the subject of the English stage, and highly praises
+certain English comic actors as excellent, and superior to any of the
+same class in Germany. “I know nothing better,” he says, “than Matthews
+at the Lyceum, and Mrs Keeley. There you have natural freshness, vigour,
+ease, and finesse, all combined in right proportions. There is less
+heartiness about our German comic performances; they always remind me of
+the strained vivacity of a bookworm in a drawing-room; now the author,
+then his interpreter, is too visibly forced in his condescension.” What
+follows is less complimentary. “When I for the first time, at Sadler’s
+Wells, saw Romeo and Juliet performed, I bit my lips all to pieces.
+Juliet looked as if she came from a ladies’ school at Brompton, instead
+of an Italian convent; the orthopedical stays and backboard were
+unmistakable: as to Romeo, I would unhesitatingly have confided to him
+the charge of an express train, so sober and practical was his air, so
+solid and angular each one of his movements. The same impression was
+made upon me by Mercutio, Tybalt, Lorenzo. It was not that they
+displayed too little vocal and mimic power; on the contrary, it was
+because they gesticulated like madmen, and ranged up and down the entire
+gamut of human tones, from a whistle to a roar, that I too plainly saw
+that no tragic passion was in them. The same company afterwards
+delighted me in comic pieces.” In English theatricals Mr Schlesinger’s
+taste is strongly for the humorous; the broader the farce and the
+thicker the jokes, the better he is pleased. A Christmas pantomime, with
+its practical fun and methodical folly, delights him. He is wonderstruck
+and enchanted by the mischievous agility of clown, and the only drawback
+to his pleasure is the inappropriate introduction of a ballet. “To see
+twenty or thirty Englishwomen, of full grenadier stature, perform a
+ballet-dance ten minutes in length, is an enjoyment from which one does
+but slowly recover. To this day I live in the firm conviction that the
+worthy young women had not the least idea that they were called upon for
+an artistical performance, but took their long legs for mathematical
+instruments, with which to demonstrate problems relating to right
+angles, the hypothenuse, and the squaring of the circle.” This sarcasm
+elicited a long reply from Frolick, who had once, it seems, been a
+_fideler bursch_ in Heidelberg, who knew German well, and had seen
+Shakespeare acted in both countries. In some respects he preferred the
+German performance of Hamlet and Romeo and Juliet, but Richard III. and
+Falstaff were to be seen best in England. The decline of the drama in
+this country he attributed to a complication of causes, of which he
+cited two—the nation’s preoccupation with matters more practical and
+important, and the want of a government support. “In your country,” he
+said, “thirty courts cherish, foster, and patronise the theatre; here,
+every theatre is a private speculation. When the Queen has taken a box
+at the Princess’s Theatre and another at Covent Garden, she has done all
+that is expected from her Majesty in the way of patronage of the drama.
+Upon the same boards upon which to-day you hear the swanlike notes of
+Desdemona, you to-morrow may behold an equestrian troop or a party of
+Indian jugglers. If you complain of such desecration of the muse’s
+temple, you are simply laughed at. Aubry’s dog, which so excited the
+holy indignation of Schiller and Goethe, would be welcomed at any of our
+theatres, so long as he filled the house.” Without going the length of
+restricting theatrical performances to what is termed the legitimate
+drama, there ought to be a limit to illegitimacy, and unquestionably the
+introduction upon our stage of tumblers, jugglers, and posture-masters,
+circus-clowns, rope-dancers, and wild Indians, has powerfully
+contributed to lower its character, and to wean many lovers of the drama
+from the habitual frequenting of theatres. But the stage in England has
+not the importance and weight it enjoys in some foreign countries;
+notably in France, where it is one of the means used to distract from
+politics the attention of the restless excitement-loving people; where
+ministers of state, and imperial majesty itself, condescend to interfere
+in minute dramatic details, and to command the suppression of pieces
+whose merits they deem beneath the dignity of the theatre at which they
+are produced. There, it is worth a government’s while to subsidise the
+theatres; in England such an item would never be tolerated in a
+chancellor of the exchequer’s budget. Nor is it needed. Public demand
+will always create as large a supply as is really required.
+
+Pleasantly and intelligently criticising and discoursing, the German
+doctor and his companion took their way again through Drury Lane,
+witnessing more than one disgusting scene of drunkenness, riot, and
+brutality. It was hard upon midnight: the gin palaces and their
+frequenters were making the most of their last few minutes; the barrows
+of battered fruit and full-flavoured shell-fish were trading at reduced
+prices, upon the principle of small profits and quick returns; oysters
+as big as a fist were piled up by threes and fours, at a penny a
+heap—poverty and oysters, Mr Weller has informed us, invariably walk
+hand in hand; here was a girl carried away dead drunk upon a
+stretcher—“it was the hunger,” an old Irishwoman, with a glowing pipe in
+her mouth, assured the gentleman, “that had done it—oh! only the
+hunger—the smallest drop had been too much for poor Sall;” here a brace
+of Amazons were indulging in a “mill” in the centre of an admiring ring;
+in front of a public-house a half-famished Italian ground out the air of
+“There’s a good time coming, boys—wait a little longer,” the organist
+looking the while as if he had great need of the “good time,” and very
+little power to wait. Suddenly the lights went out in the gin palaces,
+ballad-singers and hurdygurdy stopped short in the middle of their
+melodies, shouts and curses subsided into a hoarse murmur, and the mob
+dispersed and disappeared, to adopt Mr Schlesinger’s severe comparison,
+“like dirty rain-water that rolls into gutters and sewers.” The amateur
+observers of London’s blackguardism pursued their homeward way.
+
+“Suddenly, from a side street, a tall figure emerged with long noiseless
+steps, and cast a glance right and left—no policeman was in sight. Then
+she rapidly approached our two friends and fixed her glassy eyes upon
+them.
+
+“It is no midnight spectre, but neither is it a being of flesh and
+blood, it consists but of skin and bone. Upon her arm is an infant, to
+which the bony hand affords but a hard dying-bed. For a few seconds she
+gazes at the strangers. They put some silver into her hand. Without a
+word of thanks, or of surprise at the liberality of the alms, she walks
+away.
+
+“‘The holy Sabbath has commenced,’ said Keif, after they had proceeded
+for some distance in silence, ‘the puritanical Sabbath, on which misery
+feels itself doubly and trebly forlorn.’
+
+“‘My dear friend,’ replied Frolick, ‘five-and-twenty years ago you might
+have paved Oxford Street with such unhappy wretches as that we just now
+met. Now you must seek them out in a nook of Drury Lane. And the
+puritanism of the present day is a rose-coloured full-blooded worldling,
+compared to that of the Roundheads; it is nothing but the natural
+reaction against the licentious cavalier spirit, created by the gloomy
+hypocrisy that prevailed before the Restoration, and handed down even to
+the beginning of the present century. It is English nature to cure one
+extreme by running into the other. Either wildly jovial or prudishly
+refined; drunkards or teetotallers; prize-fighters or peace-society-men.
+If the perception of a harmonious happy medium, and the instinct of
+beauty of form, were innate in us, either we should no longer be the
+tough, hard-working, one-sided, powerful John Bull, or we should ere now
+have proved the untruth of your German proverb that in no country under
+the sun do trees grow until their branches reach the sky.’”
+
+After which modest intimation (somewhat Teutonic in style) of his
+patriotic and heartfelt conviction that if England were a little better
+than she is, she would be too good for this world, Frolick took leave of
+his friend. We shall soon follow his example. Before doing so, we
+recommend to all English readers of German, the twelfth chapter of Mr
+Schlesinger’s second volume, both as very interesting and as containing
+many sensible observations and home-truths. No extraordinary acuteness
+is necessary to discriminate between the writer’s jest and earnest.
+
+“The reader acquainted with English domestic arrangements,” says Mr
+Schlesinger in a note to his first volume, “will long ago have found out
+that the house we live in is that of a plain citizen. So we may as well
+confess that Sir John is neither knight nor baronet, but was dubbed by
+ourselves, in consideration of his services to the reader, without
+licence from the Queen, and with a silver spoon instead of a sword.” Sir
+John is not the less—if Mr Schlesinger’s sketch be a portrait—a good
+fellow and a worthy simple-hearted Englishman; and we find with
+pleasure, at the close of the book, a letter from him, dated from his
+cottage in the country, and addressed to the cynical Keif, who was
+braving November’s fogs in Guildford Street. The doctor had sent to his
+friend and host the proof-sheets of the second volume of the _Wanderings
+through London_; Sir John writes back his thanks, his opinion of the
+work, and his cordial forgiveness of the jokes at his expense that it
+contains. “Never mind,” he says; “we Englishmen can stomach the truth;
+and if you will promise me to abjure some portion of your German
+stiffneckedness, I willingly pledge myself never again to try to reason
+a Frenchman’s hind-leg straight. Between ourselves, that was the
+greatest absurdity our friend has exposed. As to all the rest, I will
+maintain my words before God, the Queen, and my countrymen. But,”
+continues Sir John, quitting personal considerations, “as regards our
+friend’s book—which, you tell me, is to be published at Christmas in
+Berlin, the most enlightened of German cities—I really fear, my dear
+doctor, that it is a bad business. How, in heaven’s name, are Germans to
+form an idea of London from those two meagre volumes? Many things are
+depicted in them, but how many are neglected, and these the very things
+in which you Germans should take a lesson from us! Not a word about our
+picture-galleries, which, nevertheless, impartially speaking, are the
+first in the world! Not a word about the British Museum, about the
+Bridgewater, Vernon, and Hampton Court galleries! Not a word about St
+Paul’s, nor a syllable concerning the Colosseum, Madame Tussaud, or
+Barclay and Perkins’ Brewery! No mention of our finest streets—Regent
+Street, Bond Street, Belgravia, and Westbourne Terrace; of our concerts
+at Exeter Hall, our markets, our zoological and botanical gardens, Kew,
+Richmond, Windsor, art, literature, benevolent institutions,” &c. &c.
+Sir John continues his enumeration of omissions, until it seems to
+comprise everything worth notice in London; and we ask ourselves with
+what Mr Schlesinger has filled the eight hundred pages we have read with
+so much satisfaction and amusement. We perceive that he has given his
+attention to men rather than to things, that his vein has been
+reflective and philosophical, and that he has not mistaken himself for
+the compiler of a London guide. But still Sir John is dissatisfied.
+In Berlin, he says, “people will imagine England has no
+picture-galleries—ha! ha! and no hospitals—ha! ha! ha! In ten such
+volumes, the materials would not be exhausted.”
+
+“It is delightful here in the country,” concludes Sir John, breaking off
+his criticism. “Where do you find such fresh green, and such mild air in
+November as in our England? I go out walking without a greatcoat, and
+say to myself, ‘Across the water, in Germany, the snow lies deep, and
+the wolves walk in and out of Cologne Cathedral.’ Here it is a little
+damp of a morning and evening, but then one sits by the fire and reads
+the newspaper. Nowhere is one so comfortable as in the country in
+England. Come and see us in our cottage; the children are longing to see
+you, and so am I.”
+
+Then comes a postscript, which, like many postscripts, is not the least
+important part of the letter. “At this damp time of the year,” says the
+spoon-dubbed baronet, “I advise you to take a small glass of cognac of a
+morning—there must still be some bottles of the right sort in the
+cellar—and every night one of my pills. You will find a boxful on the
+chimney-piece in my study. Do not be obstinate: you do not know how
+dangerous this season of the year is in England.”
+
+So kind and hospitable a letter demanded a prompt reply, and accordingly
+we get Dr Keif’s by return of post. It is pretty evident, however, that
+the motive of his haste is rather anxiety to answer the charge of
+incompleteness brought against Max Schlesinger’s book, than generous
+impatience to thank Sir John for placing the pill-box at his disposal.
+The author of the _Wanderings_, he says, preferred dissecting and
+dwelling upon a few subjects to slightly touching upon a large number;
+and, in his usual caustic strain, he reminds his friend, that if some
+things of which London has a right to be proud have been left unnoticed,
+the same has been the case with other things of which she has reason to
+be ashamed. He then enumerates the blots, as Sir John had detailed the
+glories. Having done so: “it is horrible here in London,” he says.
+“Where do you find such fogs and such a pestilential atmosphere, in
+November, as in your London? That the wolves now walk in and out of
+Cologne Cathedral is a mere creation of your Britannic imagination; and,
+since you talk of doing without a greatcoat, why, the English walk about
+the whole winter through, in Germany, in black dresscoats, but they are
+cunning enough to carry several layers of flannel underneath them. Have
+you by chance discarded yours? That you are comfortable in your
+country-house I have no doubt. _That_ I never disputed.”
+
+In his turn, Dr Keif treats himself to a postscript. “Since this
+morning,” he says, “I have followed your medical prescription, and will
+keep to it—partially, that is to say. I found the cognac, and will take
+it regularly. On the other hand, when you return to London, you will
+find your pills untouched upon your chimney-piece.”
+
+And so we come to “Finis.” Mr Schlesinger is a genial and unprejudiced
+critic of a foreign capital’s customs and character, and we thank him
+for his agreeable, spirited, and impartial volumes. By his own
+countrymen they will, or we are greatly mistaken, be highly and
+deservedly prized.
+
+
+
+
+                    NEW READINGS IN SHAKESPEARE.[3]
+
+
+                                NO. II.
+
+If the glory of Shakespeare is a theme for national congratulation, the
+purity of his text ought to be an object of national concern. It is not
+enough that the general effect of his writings should impress itself
+clearly on the hearts and minds of all classes of readers; that the
+grander and broader features of his genius should commend themselves to
+the admiration of all mankind. This they can never fail to do. The
+danger to which Shakespeare is exposed is not such as can ever
+materially affect the soul and substance of his compositions. Here he
+stands pre-eminent and secure. But he is exposed to a danger of another
+kind. As time wears on, his text runs periodically the risk of being
+extensively tampered with; whether by the introduction of _new_
+readings, properly so called, or by the insertion of glosses of a
+comparatively ancient date. The carelessness with which it is alleged
+the earlier editions were printed, is pleaded as an apology for these
+conjectural corrections;—one man’s ingenuity sets to work the wits of
+another; and thus, unless the _cacoethes emendandi_ be checked betimes,
+a distant posterity, instead of receiving our great poet’s works in an
+authentic form, may succeed to a very adulterated inheritance.
+
+This consideration induces us to exert such small power as we may
+possess to check the growing evil, and in particular to repress that
+deluge of innovations which Mr Collier has lately let loose upon the
+gardens of Shakespeare, from the margins of his corrected folio of 1632,
+and which, if they do not shake the everlasting landmarks, at any rate
+threaten with destruction many a flower of choicest fragrance and most
+celestial hue. We believe that when Mr Collier’s volume was first
+published, the periodical press was generally very loud in its praises.
+“Here we have the genuine Shakespeare at last,” said the journals, with
+singular unanimity. But when the new readings have been dispassionately
+discussed, and when the excitement of their novelty has subsided, we
+believe that Mr Collier’s “Shakespeare restitutus,” so far from being an
+acceptable present to the community, will be perceived to be such a book
+as very few readers would like to live in the same house with.
+
+In order, then, to carry out what we conceive to be a good work—the
+task, namely, of defending the text of Shakespeare from the impurities
+with which Mr Collier wishes to inoculate it—we return to the discussion
+(which must necessarily be of a minute and chiefly verbal character) of
+the new readings. We shall endeavour to do justice to the old corrector,
+by bringing forward every alteration which looks like a real emendation.
+Two or three small matters may perhaps escape us, but the reader may be
+assured that they are very small matters indeed. It will be seen that
+the unwise substitutions constitute an overwhelming majority. The play
+that stands next in order is “King John.”
+
+
+KING JOHN—_Act II. Scene 1._—In this play the new readings are of no
+great importance. A few of them may equal the original text—one or two
+may excel it—but certainly the larger portion fall considerably below it
+in point of merit. The best emendation occurs in the lines in which
+young Arthur expresses his acknowledgments to Austria—
+
+              “I give you welcome with a powerless hand,
+              But with a heart full of _unstained_ love.”
+
+The MS. corrector proposes “_unstrained_ love,” which perhaps is the
+better word of the two, though the change is by no means necessary. The
+same commendation cannot be extended to the alteration which is proposed
+in the lines where Constance is endeavouring to dissuade the French king
+from engaging precipitately in battle. She says—
+
+            “My lord Chatillon may from England bring
+            That right in peace, which here we urge in war;
+            And then we shall repent each drop of blood,
+            That hot rash haste so _indirectly_ shed.”
+
+“Indirectly” is Shakespeare’s word. The MS. corrector suggests
+“indiscreetly”—a most unhappy substitution, which we are surprised that
+the generally judicious Mr Singer should approve of. “Indiscreetly”
+means imprudently, inconsiderately. “Indirectly” means wrongfully,
+iniquitously, as may be learnt from these lines in King Henry V., where
+the French king is denounced as a usurper, and is told that Henry
+
+                             “bids you, then, resign
+               Your crown and kingdom, _indirectly_ held
+               From him the native and true challenger.”
+
+It was certainly the purpose of Constance to condemn the rash shedding
+of blood as something worse than indiscreet—as criminal and unjust—and
+this she did by employing the term “indirectly” in the Shakespearean
+sense of that word.
+
+In this same Act, _Scene 2_, a new reading—also approved of by Mr
+Singer, and pronounced “unquestionably right” by Mr Collier—is proposed
+in the lines where the citizen says—
+
+             “That daughter there of Spain, the Lady Blanch
+             Is _near_ to England.”
+
+For “near” the MS. correction is _niece_. But the Lady Blanch is
+repeatedly, throughout the play, spoken of as niece to King John and the
+Queen-mother. Therefore, if for no other reason than that of varying the
+expression, we must give our suffrage most decidedly in favour of the
+original reading. “_Near_ to England” of course means nearly related to
+England; and it seems much more natural, as well as more poetical, that
+the citizen should speak in this general way of Lady Blanch, than that
+he should condescend on her particular degree of relationship, and style
+her the “niece to England.”
+
+At the end of this Act, in the soliloquy of Faulconbridge, a very
+strange perversion on the part of the MS. corrector comes before us.
+Faulconbridge is railing against what he calls “commodity”—that is, the
+morality of self-interest. He then goes on to represent himself as no
+better than his neighbours, in these words—
+
+              “And why rail I on this commodity?
+              But for because he hath not woo’d me yet;
+              Not that I have the power to clutch my hand,
+              When his fair angels would salute my palm.”
+
+The meaning of these lines is certainly sufficiently obvious. Yet Mr
+Collier’s corrector is not satisfied with them. He reads—
+
+          “Not that I have _no_ power to clutch my hand,” &c.
+
+But unless Mr Collier can prove—what will be difficult—that “power” here
+means _inclination_, it is evident that this reading directly reverses
+Shakespeare’s meaning. If “power” means _inclination_, the sense would
+be this—I rail on this commodity, not because I have no inclination to
+clutch my hand on the fair angels that would salute my palm, but because
+I have not yet been tempted; when temptation comes, I shall doubtless
+yield like my neighbours. But power never means, and cannot mean
+inclination; and Mr Collier has not attempted to show that it does; and
+therefore the new reading must be to this effect—“I rail on this
+commodity, not because I am _unable_ to close my hand against a bribe,”
+&c. But Faulconbridge says the very reverse. He says—“I rail on this
+commodity, not because I have the power to resist temptation, or am
+_able_ to shut my hand against the fair angels that would salute my
+palm; for I have no such power: in this respect I am just like other
+people, and am as easily bribed as they are.” The new reading,
+therefore, must be dismissed as a wanton reversal of the plain meaning
+of Shakespeare.
+
+_Act III. Scene 3._—We approve of the corrector’s change of the word
+“race,” the ordinary reading, into _ear_, in the following line about
+the midnight bell—
+
+              “Sound one unto the drowsy _ear_ of night.”
+
+The old copies read _on_ instead of _one_, which was supplied—rightly,
+as we think—by Warburton. The MS. corrector makes no change in regard to
+_on_.
+
+_Act III. Scene 4._—The passionate vehemence of Constance’s speech is
+much flattened by the corrector’s ill-judged interference. Bewailing the
+loss of her son, she says—
+
+            “O, that my tongue were in the thunder’s mouth;
+            Then with a passion would I shake the world:
+            And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy,
+            Which cannot hear a lady’s feeble voice,
+            Which scorns a _modern_ invocation.”
+
+For “modern” the MS. corrector would read “widow’s”! And Mr Collier,
+defending the new reading, observes that Johnson remarks, “that it is
+hard to say what Shakespeare means by _modern_.” Johnson does make this
+remark. Nevertheless the meaning of the word “modern” is perfectly
+plain. It signifies moderate—not sufficiently impassioned; and we are
+called upon to give up this fine expression for the inanity of a
+“_widow’s_ invocation”! In the same lines this reckless tamperer with
+the language of Shakespeare would change
+
+             “Then with a passion would I shake the world,”
+
+into
+
+          “Then with _what_ passion would I shake the world.”
+
+_Act IV. Scene 2._—In the following lines a difficulty occurs which
+seems insuperable, and which the MS. corrector has certainly not
+explained, although Mr Collier says that his reading makes “the meaning
+apparent.” King John, in reply to some of his lords, who have tried to
+dissuade him from having a double coronation, says—
+
+           “Some reasons of this double coronation
+           I have possessed you with, and think them strong:
+           And more, more strong (_when lesser is my fear_)
+           I shall endue you with.”
+
+This is the common reading; but why the king should give them more and
+stronger reasons for his double coronation, when his fears were
+diminished, is not at all apparent. The strength of his fears should
+rather have led him at once to state his reasons explicitly. The MS.
+correction is—
+
+           “And more, more strong, _thus lessening_ my fear,
+           I shall endue you with.”
+
+But how the _communication_ of his stronger reasons should have the
+effect of lessening the king’s fear, is a riddle still darker than the
+other. The _possession_ of these reasons might lessen the usurper’s
+fears; but surely the mere utterance of them could make no difference.
+If the MS. corrector had written, “thus lessening _your_ fears,” there
+would have been some sense in the emendation; and, if a new reading be
+required, this is the one which we venture to suggest.
+
+_Act IV. Scene 3._—We confess that we prefer the MS. corrector’s line,
+
+            “Whose private _missive_ of the Dauphin’s love,”
+
+to the ordinary reading,
+
+            “Whose private _with me_ of the Dauphin’s love.”
+
+But we are not prepared to say that the latter is unintelligible, or
+that it is not in accordance with the diplomatic phraseology of the
+time.
+
+The following new reading has something to recommend it; but much also
+may be said in defence of the old text. Salisbury, indignant with the
+king, says, as the ordinary copies give it,
+
+              “The King hath dispossessed himself of us;
+              We will not line his _thin bestained_ cloak
+              With our pure honours.”
+
+The margins propose “sin-bestained,” which is plausible. But there is
+also a propriety in the use of the word “thin.” The king’s cloak (that
+is, his authority) was _thin_, because not lined and strengthened with
+the power and honours of his nobles. The text ought not to be altered.
+
+We conclude our _obiter dicta_ on this play with the remark, that Pope’s
+change of “hand” into “head,” which is also proposed by the MS.
+corrector in the following lines, (_Act IV. Scene III._) seems to us to
+be an improvement, and entitled to admission into the text. Salisbury
+vows
+
+              “Never to taste the pleasures of the world,
+              Never to be infected with delight,
+              Nor conversant with ease and idleness,
+              ’Till I have set a glory to this _head_,
+              By giving it the worship of revenge,”
+
+—that is, the head of young Arthur, whose dead body had just been
+discovered on the ground.
+
+
+KING RICHARD II.—_Act. II. Scene 1._—Ritson’s emendation, as pointed out
+by Mr Singer, is unquestionably to be preferred to the MS. corrector’s
+in these lines—
+
+         “The King is come; deal mildly with his youth,
+         For young hot colts, being _rag’d_, do rage the more.”
+
+“Raged,” the common reading, can scarcely be right. Ritson proposed
+“being reined.” The margins suggest “being urg’d.”
+
+We differ from the MS. corrector, Mr Collier, and Mr Singer, in thinking
+that there is no good reason for disturbing the received text in the
+lines where the conspirators, Willoughby, Ross, and Northumberland, are
+consulting together; but, on the contrary, very good reasons for leaving
+it alone. Willoughby says to his brother—conspirator, Northumberland,
+
+          “Nay, let us share thy thoughts as thou dost ours.”
+
+Ross also presses him to speak:
+
+          “Be confident to speak, Northumberland;
+          We three are but thyself; and speaking so,
+          Thy words are but _as_ thoughts, therefore be bold.”
+
+The change proposed is _our_ for “as.” “Thy words are but _our_
+thoughts.” The difference of meaning in the two readings is but slight;
+but the old text seems to us to have the advantage in depth and
+fineness. Ross’s argument with Northumberland to speak was not merely
+because his words were as _their_ thoughts. That was no doubt true; but
+the point of his persuasion lay in the consideration that
+Northumberland’s words would be _as good as not spoken_. “We three are
+but yourself, and, in these circumstances, your words are but _as_
+thoughts—that is, you are as safe in uttering them as if you uttered
+them not, inasmuch as you will be merely speaking to yourself.” The
+substitution of “our” for “as” seems to bring out this meaning less
+clearly.
+
+_Act II. Scene 2._—The following lines (part of which, for the sake of
+perspicuity, we print within a parenthesis, contrary, we believe, to the
+common arrangement) require no emendation. The queen, labouring under
+“the involuntary and unaccountable depression of mind which, says
+Johnson, every one has some time felt,” remarks—
+
+                        “Howe’er it be,
+            I cannot but be sad; so heavy sad,
+            As (though, in thinking, on no thought I think)
+            Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink.”
+
+The MS. corrector reads “unthinking” for “in thinking;” but this is by
+no means necessary. The old text is quite as good, indeed rather better
+than the new.
+
+_Scene 3._—Much dissatisfaction has been expressed with the word
+_despised_ in the lines in which York severely rates his traitorous
+nephew Bolingbroke:
+
+            “Why have those banish’d and forbidden legs
+            Dared once to touch a dust of English ground?
+            But more than why,—why have they dared to march
+            So many miles upon her peaceful bosom,
+            Frighting her pale-faced villages with war,
+            And ostentation of _despised_ arms?”
+
+“But sure,” says Warburton, “the ostentation of despised arms would not
+_fright_ any one. We should read ‘disposed arms’—_i.e._, forces in
+battle array.” “Despoiling arms” is the reading recommended by the
+margins. “Displayed arms” is the right expression, according to Mr
+Singer. But surely no emendation is required. The ostentation of
+despised arms was quite sufficient to frighten the harmless villagers;
+and this is all that Shakespeare says it did. And then it is in the
+highest degree appropriate and consistent that York should give his
+nephew to understand that his arms or forces were utterly despicable in
+the estimation of all loyal subjects, of all honourable and
+right-thinking men. Hence his words,
+
+             “Frighting her _pale-faced_ villages with war,
+             And _ostentation_ of _despised_ arms,”
+
+mean—alarming with war only pale-faced villagers, who never smelt the
+sulphurous breeze of battle, and making a vain parade of arms which all
+true soldiers must despise.
+
+_Act III. Scene 3._—The substitution of _storm_ for “harm,” in the
+following lines, is an exceedingly doubtful emendation. York says of
+Richard—
+
+             “Yet looks he like a king; behold, his eye,
+             As bright as is the eagle’s, lightens forth
+             Controlling majesty. Alack, alack for woe,
+             That any _harm_ should stain so fair a show!”
+
+It is true that, in a previous part of the speech, the king is likened
+to the setting sun, whose glory “the envious clouds are bent to dim;”
+and therefore the word _storm_ has some show of reason to recommend it,
+and “harm” may possibly have been a misprint. But we rather think that
+it is the right word, and that it is more natural and pathetic than the
+word _storm_. Nothing else worthy of note or comment presents itself in
+the MS. corrections of King Richard II.
+
+
+THE FIRST PART OF KING HENRY IV.—_Act I. Scene 1._—“No new light,” says
+Mr Collier, “is thrown upon the two lines which have produced so many
+conjectures:
+
+          ‘No more the thirsty entrance of this soil
+          Shall daub her lips with her own children’s blood.’”
+
+The MS. corrector has in this instance shown his sense by not meddling
+with these lines; for how any light beyond their own inherent lustre
+should ever have been thought necessary to render them luminous, it is
+not easy to understand. As a specimen of the way in which the old
+commentators occasionally darkened the very simplest matters, their
+treatment of these two lines may be adduced. The old quartos, and the
+folio 1623, supply the text as given above. By an error of the press,
+the folio 1632 reads _damb_ instead of _daub_. This _damb_ the earlier
+commentators converted into _damp_. Warburton changed “damp” into
+trempe—_i.e._, moisten. Dr Johnson, although very properly dissatisfied
+with this Frenchified reading, is as much at fault as the bishop. With
+the authentic text of the older editions before him, he says, “the old
+reading helps the editor no better than the new” (in other words, _daub_
+is no better than damb, and damp, and trempe); “nor can I satisfactorily
+reform the passage. I think that ‘thirsty entrance’ _must be_ wrong, yet
+know not what to offer. We may read, but not very elegantly—
+
+           ‘No more the thirsty _entrails_ of this soil
+           Shall _daubed be_ with her own children’s blood.’”
+
+Truly this reading is by no means elegant; it is nothing less than
+monstrous. To say nothing of the physical impossibility of the blood
+penetrating to the “entrails” of the earth, the expression violates the
+first principles of poetical word-painting. The interior parts of the
+earth are not seen, and therefore to talk of them as daubed with blood,
+is to attempt to place before the eye of the mind a picture which cannot
+be placed before it. In science, or as a matter of fact, this may be
+admissible; but in poetry, where the imagination is addressed, it is
+simply an absurdity. Steevens, with some hesitation, proposes—
+
+          “No more the thirsty _entrants_ of this soil
+          Shall daub her lips with her own children’s blood.”
+
+“Entrants,” that is, “invaders.” “This,” says Steevens, “may be thought
+very far-fetched.” It is worse than far-fetched—it is ludicrously
+despicable. Conceive Shakespeare saying that “a parcel of _drouthy_
+Frenchmen shall no more daub the lips of England with the blood of her
+own children”! What renders this reading all the more inexcusable is,
+that Steevens perceived what the true and obvious meaning was, although
+he had not the steadiness to stand to it. He adds—“or Shakespeare _may_
+mean the _thirsty entrance_ of the soil for the _porous surface_ of the
+earth through which all moisture enters, and is thirstily drunk or
+soaked up.” Shakespeare’s words cannot by any possibility mean anything
+except this. “Porous surface,” as must be obvious to all mankind, is the
+exact literal prose of the more poetical phrase, “thirsty entrance.” Yet
+obvious as this interpretation is, Malone remained blind to it, even
+after Steevens had pointed it out. He prefers Steevens’ first
+emendation. He says, “Mr Steevens’ conjecture (that is, his suggestion
+of _entrants_ for _entrance_) is so likely to be true, that I have no
+doubt about the propriety of admitting it into the text.” In spite,
+however, of these vagaries, we believe that the right reading, as given
+above, has kept its place in the ordinary editions of Shakespeare. This
+instance may show that our MS. corrector is not the only person whose
+wits have gone a-woolgathering when attempting to mend the language of
+Shakespeare.
+
+Before returning to Mr Collier’s corrector, we wish to make another
+digression, in order to propose a new reading—one, at least, which is
+new to ourselves, and not to be found in the _variorum_ edition 1785.
+The king says, in reference to the rising in the north, which has been
+triumphantly put down—
+
+           “Ten thousand bold Scots,—two-and-twenty knights,
+           _Balked_ in their own blood, did Sir Walter see
+           On Holmedon’s plains.”
+
+For “balked” Steevens conjectured either “bathed” or “baked.” Warton
+says that _balk_ is a ridge, and that therefore “balked in their own
+blood” means “piled up in a ridge, and in their own blood.” Tollet says,
+“‘balked in their own blood,’ I believe, means, lay in heaps or hillocks
+in their own blood.” We propose—
+
+           “Ten thousand bold Scots,—two-and-twenty knights,
+           _Bark’d_ in their own blood, did Sir Walter see
+           On Holmedon’s plains.”
+
+“Barked,” that is, coated with dry and hardened blood, as a tree is
+coated with bark. This is picturesque. To _bark_ or _barken_ is
+undoubtedly an old English word; and in Scotland, even at this day, it
+is not uncommon to hear the country people talk of blood _barkening_,
+that is, hardening, upon a wound.
+
+_Act I. Scene 3._—The following lines present a difficulty which the
+commentators—and among them our anonymous scholiast—have not been very
+successful in clearing up. The king, speaking in reference to the
+revolted Mortimer and his accomplices, says—
+
+            “Shall we buy treason, and indent _with fears_,
+            When they have lost and forfeited themselves?
+            No, on the barren mountains let him starve.”
+
+There is no difficulty in regard to the word “indent;” it means, to
+enter into a compact—to descend, as Johnson says, to a composition. But
+what is the meaning of “to indent, or enter into a compact, _with
+fears_”? Johnson suggests “with peers”—that is, with the noblemen who
+have lost and forfeited themselves. But this is a very unsatisfactory
+and improbable reading. The MS. corrector proposes “with foes;” and Mr
+Collier remarks, “It seems strange that, in the course of two hundred
+and fifty years, nobody should ever have even guessed at _foes_ for
+_fears_.” It is much more strange that Mr Collier should be ignorant
+that “foes” is the reading of the Oxford editor, Sir Thomas Hanmer—a
+reading which was long ago condemned. Mr Singer adheres rightly to the
+received text; but he is wrong in his explanation of the word “fears.”
+He says that it means “objects of fear.” But surely the king can never
+have regarded Mortimer and his associates as objects of fear. He had a
+spirit above that. He had no dread of them. Steevens is very nearly
+right when he says that the word “fears” here means _terrors_: he would
+have been quite right had he said that it signifies _cowardice_, or
+rather, by a poetical licence, “cowards”—(_fearers_, if there were such
+a word.) The meaning is, shall we buy treason, and enter into a
+composition with cowardice, when they (the traitors and cowards) have
+lost and forfeited themselves? Treason and cowardice are undoubtedly the
+two offences which the king intends to brand with his indignation.
+“Foes” is quite inadmissible.
+
+In _Act II. Scene 1_—Gadshill, talking in a lofty vein of his high
+acquaintances, says, “I am joined with no foot land-rakers, no
+long-staff, six-penny strikers; none of these mad, mustachio,
+purple-hued maltworms; but with nobility and _tranquillity_;
+burgomasters and great _oneyers_; such as can hold in; such as can
+strike sooner than speak,” &c. The change of “tranquillity” into
+_sanguinity_, as proposed by the MS. corrector, we dismiss at once as
+unworthy of any consideration. “Oneyers” is the only word about which
+there is any difficulty; and it has puzzled the bigwigs. Theobald reads
+“moneyers”—that is, officers of the mint—bankers. Sir T. Hanmer reads
+“great owners.” Malone reads “onyers,” which, he says, means public
+accountants. “To settle accounts is still called at the exchequer _to
+ony_, and hence Shakespeare seems to have formed the word _onyers_.”
+Johnson has hit upon the right explanation, although he advances it with
+considerable hesitation. “I know not,” says he, “whether any change is
+necessary; Gadshill tells the chamberlain that he is joined with no mean
+wretches, but with burgomasters and great ones, or, as he terms them in
+merriment, by a cant termination, great oneyers, or, great one-eers—as
+we say privateer, auctioneer, circuiteer. This is, I fancy, the whole of
+the matter.” That this is the true explanation, or very near it, and
+that no change in the text is necessary, is proved beyond a doubt by the
+following extract from the writings of one whose genius, while it
+elevates the noblest subjects, can also illustrate the most small. “Do
+they often go where glory waits them, and leave you here?” says Mr
+Swiveller, alluding to Brass and his charming sister, in Dickens’ _Old
+Curiosity Shop_. “‘O, yes, I believe they do,’ returned the marchioness,
+_alias_ the small servant; ‘Miss Sally’s such a _one-er_ for that.’
+‘Such a what?’ said Dick, as much puzzled as a Shakespearean
+commentator. ‘Such a one-er,’ returned the marchioness. After a moment’s
+reflection, Mr Swiveller determined to forego his responsible duty of
+setting her right—[why should he have wished to set her right? she _was_
+right; she was speaking the language and illustrating the meaning of
+Shakespeare]—and to suffer her to talk on; as it was evident that her
+tongue was loosened by the purl, and her opportunities for conversation
+were not so frequent as to render a momentary check of little
+consequence. ‘They sometimes go to see Mr Quilp,’ said the small
+servant, with a shrewd look: ‘they go to a many places, bless you.’ ‘Is
+_Mr_ Brass a _wunner_?’ said Dick. ‘Not half what Miss Sally is, he
+isn’t,’ replied the small servant.” Here is the very word we want.
+Shakespeare’s “oneyer” is Dickens’ _one-er_ or _wunner_—that is, a one
+_par excellence_, a one with an emphasis—a top-sawyer—and the difficulty
+is resolved. Set a thief to catch a thief; and leave one great
+intellectual luminary to throw light upon another. After Mr Dickens’
+lucid commentary, “oneyer” becomes quite a household word, and we
+suspect that the MS. corrector’s emendation will scarcely go down. He
+reads, “burgomasters and great _ones_,—_yes_ such as can hold in.” “This
+will never do,” to quote a favourite aphorism, and literary canon of the
+late Lord Jeffrey, when speaking of the Lake School of poetry.
+
+_Act II. Scene 4._—The complacency with which Mr Collier sets the
+authority of his MS. corrector above that of the other commentators on
+Shakespeare, is one of the most curious features in his literary
+character. The following is an instance of his marginolatry. “Rowe,”
+says Mr Collier, “_seems_ to have been right (indeed, the emendation
+hardly admits of doubt) in reading _tristful_ for ‘trustful’ in
+Falstaff’s speech, as we learn from the alteration introduced in the
+folio 1632. ‘For Heaven’s sake, lords, convey my _tristful_ queen.’” As
+if the authority of Rowe, or of any other person, was not, to say the
+least of it, just as good as that of the anonymous corrector, who, by
+the blunders into which he has fallen, has proved himself signally
+disqualified for the task of rectifying Shakespeare where his text may
+happen to be corrupted.
+
+_Act III. Scene 1._—Now and then, however, as we have all along
+admitted, the old corrector makes a good hit. A very excellent
+emendation, about the best which he has proposed, occurs in the scene
+where Mortimer says—
+
+              “My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh.”
+
+The lady then speaks to him in Welsh, being at the same time in tears;
+whereupon her husband says—
+
+          “I understood thy looks, _that_ pretty Welsh
+          Which thou pourest down from the swelling heavens.”
+
+“The swelling heavens”—her eyes might no doubt be swollen; but that is
+not a pretty picture. The correction, which is a manifest improvement,
+and worthy of a place in the text, is “from these welling heavens.” This
+correction is taken from Mr Collier’s appendix, or “notes,” where it
+might be easily overlooked.
+
+_Act V. Scene 1._—The MS. corrector is very fond of eking out imperfect
+lines with conjectural interpolations, and of curtailing others which
+present a superfluity of syllables. This is a practice which cannot be
+permitted even in cases where the alteration improves the verses, as
+sometimes happens; much less can it be tolerated in cases, which are
+still more frequent, where the verses are manifestly enfeebled by the
+change. A conspicuous instance of the latter occurs in these lines. The
+rebellious Worcester says to the king,
+
+                             ——“I do protest
+         I have not sought the day of this dislike.
+
+         _K. Henry._—You have not sought it—How comes it then?”
+
+Here the words, “How comes it then?” are vehement and abrupt, and the
+verse is purposely defective. Its impetuosity is destroyed by the
+corrector’s stilted and unnatural interpolation—
+
+           “You have not sought it—_say_, how comes it then?”
+
+That word _say_ takes off the sharp edge of the king’s wrathful
+interrogative, and converts him from a flesh and blood monarch into a
+mouthing ranter, a mere tragedy-king.
+
+
+THE SECOND PART OF HENRY IV.—_Act I. Scene 2._—We agree with Mr Collier
+and Mr Singer that the substitution of _diseases_ for “degrees” in
+Falstaff’s speech is a good and legitimate emendation, and we willingly
+place it to the credit of the MS. corrector.
+
+_Act I. Scene 3._—The MS. corrector attempts to amend the following
+passage in several places—not very successfully, as we shall endeavour
+to show. The rebellious lords are talking about their prospects and
+resources. Bardolph counsels delay, and warns his friends against being
+over-sanguine.
+
+        “_Hastings._—But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt,
+        To lay down likelihoods, and forms of hope.
+
+        _Bardolph._—Yes, in this present quality of war;
+        Indeed, of instant action. A cause on foot
+        Lives so in hope, as in an early spring
+        We see the appearing buds; which, to prove fruit,
+        Hope gives not so much warrant, as despair,
+        That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build,
+        We first survey the plot, then draw the model;
+        And when we see the figure of the house,
+        Then must we rate the cost of the erection;
+        Which, if we find outweighs ability,
+        What do we then, but draw anew the model
+        In fewer offices; or, at least, desist
+        To build at all? Much more in this great work
+        (Which is, almost, to pluck a kingdom down
+        And set another up), should we survey
+        The plot of situation and the model;
+        Consent upon a sure foundation;
+        Question surveyors; know our own estate,
+        How able such a work to undergo,
+        _To weigh against his opposite_; or else
+        We fortify in paper and in figures,
+        Using the names of men, instead of men.”
+
+In this speech of Bardolph’s we shall confine our attention to the two
+main points on which the corrector has tried his hand. These are the two
+first lines, and the verse printed in italics. The two first lines are
+somewhat obscure; but we are of opinion that a much better sense may be
+obtained from them than is afforded by the corrector’s emendation, which
+we shall presently advert to. “Hope,” says Hastings, “never yet did
+harm.” “Yes,” says Bardolph, “in a state of affairs like the present,
+where action seems imminent, it _has_ done harm to entertain (unfounded)
+hopes.” He then proceeds to press on his friends, as their only chance
+of safety, the necessity of making the war _not_ imminent—of postponing
+it until they have pondered well their resources, and received farther
+supplies. All this is intelligible enough, and may be elicited with
+perfect ease from the ordinary text which was adjusted by Dr Johnson—the
+original reading of the two lines in question being obviously disfigured
+by typographical errors. There is therefore no call whatever for the MS.
+corrector’s amendment, which seems to us infinitely more obscure and
+perplexing than the received reading. He writes—
+
+               “Yes, in this present quality of war;
+               Indeed the instant _act and_ cause on foot
+               Lives so in hope,” &c.
+
+Mr Collier says that this emendation “clears the sense” of the passage.
+We should have thanked him had he shown us how; for, if the old reading
+be obscure, the only merit of the new one seems to be that it lends an
+additional gloom to darkness. In regard to the other point—the line
+printed in italics—the MS. corrector breaks the back of the difficulty
+by means of the following interpolated forgery—
+
+             “_A careful leader sums what force he brings_
+             To weigh against his opposite.”
+
+This, and the other similar delinquencies of which the MS. corrector is
+frequently guilty, are neither more nor less than swindling—and
+swindling, too, without an object. Nothing is gained by the rascality;
+for the sense of the passage may be opened without resorting to the use
+of such a clumsy crowbar, such a burglarious implement as
+
+             “A careful leader sums what force he brings.”
+
+It means, before we engage in any great and perilous undertaking, we
+should know how able we are to undergo such a work—how able we are to
+weigh against the opposite of such a work; that is, to contend
+successfully against the forces of the enemy. Mr Singer says that, if
+any change is necessary, we should read “_this_ opposite,” instead of
+“_his_ opposite.” With submission we beg to say, that, if any change is
+necessary, “its” and not “this” is the word which must be substituted
+for “his.” But no change is necessary; “his opposite” means the work’s
+opposite; and it is no unfrequent idiom with Shakespeare to use “his”
+for “its.”
+
+_Act II. Scene 1._—Hostess Quickly says, according to the old copies—
+
+  “A hundred marks is a long _one_ for a poor lone woman to bear.”
+
+“One” being obviously a misprint, Theobald substituted “loan;” and this
+is the usual reading. The MS. corrector proposes “score;” and this, we
+think, ought to go into the text. But it will be long before the MS.
+corrector, by means of such small instalments, clears _his_ “score” with
+the ghost of Shakespeare. As a help, however, towards that consummation,
+we are rather inclined to place to his credit the substitution of _high_
+for _the_ in the line—
+
+              “Under _the_ canopies of costly state.”
+                                      —_Act III. Scene 1._
+
+Perhaps, also, he ought to get credit for “shrouds” instead of
+“clouds”—although the former is now no novelty, having been started long
+ago by some of the early commentators. The original reading is “clouds;”
+but the epithet “slippery” renders it highly probable that this is a
+misprint for _shrouds_—that is, the ship’s upper tackling; and that
+“slippery shrouds” is the genuine reading. It seems probable also that
+_rags_, the MS. correction, and not _rage_, the ordinary reading, is the
+right word in the lines where rebellion is spoken of (_Act IV. Scene 1_)
+as
+
+             “Led on by bloody youth, guarded with _rags_,
+             And countenanced by boys and beggary.”
+
+The MS. corrector seems to be retrieving his character. We are also
+willing to accept at his hands “seal” instead of “zeal” in the line—
+
+              “Under the counterfeited _seal_ of heaven.”
+
+We cannot, however, admit that there is any ground for emendation in the
+following passage (_Act IV. Scene 1_) where the king is spoken of, and
+where it is said that he will find much difficulty in punishing his
+enemies without compromising his friends:—
+
+              “His foes are so enrooted with his friends,
+              That, plucking to unfix an enemy,
+              He doth unfasten so, and shake a friend,
+              So that this land, like an offensive wife,
+              That hath enraged _him on_ to offer strokes;
+              As he is striking, holds his infant up,
+              And hangs resolved correction in the arm
+              That was uprear’d to execution.”
+
+The question is, who is the “him” referred to in the fifth of these
+lines? It can be no other than the king. _He_, the husband, being
+excited to chastise his wife—that is, the rebellious country—_she_, as
+he is striking, holds his infant (that is, certain of his friends) up,
+and thus stays his arm, and suspends the execution of his vengeance. The
+MS. corrector substitutes “her man” for the words “him on.” Mr Collier
+approves, and even Mr Singer says that this “is a very plausible
+correction, and is evidently called for.” If these gentlemen will
+reconsider the passage, they will find that it cannot be construed with
+the new reading, unless several additional words are inserted; thus, “So
+that this land (is), like an offensive wife who hath enraged _her man_
+to offer strokes, (and who) as he is striking, holds his infant up, and
+hangs resolved correction in the arm that was upreared to execution.”
+This is as intelligible as the ordinary text, though not more so; but
+the introduction of so many new words—which are absolutely necessary to
+complete the grammar and the sense—is quite inadmissible; and therefore
+the MS. correction must be abandoned.
+
+
+KING HENRY V.—In this play none of the MS. corrector’s emendations are
+entitled to go into the text. First, we shall call attention for a
+moment to a very small correction of our own, which perhaps may have
+been made in some of the editions, but not in that which we use, the
+_variorum_ of 1785. In _Act I. Scene 2_, the Bishop of Ely says—
+
+          “For government, _though_ high, and low, and lower,
+          Put into parts, doth keep in one consent
+          Congruing to a full and natural close
+          Like music.”
+
+Surely “though” ought to be _through_. “For government, put into parts,
+like a piece of music, doth keep in one consent or harmony, _through_
+high, and low, and lower,” &c. In the same Act, same scene, an
+emendation is proposed by the MS. corrector, which, though specious, we
+cannot bring ourselves to endorse. King Henry, in reply to the dauphin’s
+taunting message, says—
+
+            “But tell the Dauphin, I will keep my state,
+            Be like a king, and show my _sail_ of greatness,
+            When I do rouse me in my throne of France.”
+
+The corrector proposes _soul_ for “sail.” But Shakespeare’s is a grand
+expression—“I will show my sail _of greatness_,”—will set _all_ my
+canvass—will shine,
+
+              “Like a proud ship with all her bravery on.”
+
+It is a pity that he did not write _hoist_ or _spread_, which would have
+removed all doubt as to the word “sail.” “Show,” however, is, on some
+accounts, better than _hoist_ or _spread_. Neither do we perceive any
+necessity for adopting the MS. correction “_seasonable_ swiftness”
+instead of “reasonable swiftness.” Nor is it by any means necessary to
+change “now _thrive_ the armourers” into “now _strive_ the armourers:”
+In _Act II. Scene 2_, the king says, in reference to a drunkard who had
+railed on him—
+
+               “It was excess of wine that set him on,
+               And on _his_ more advice, we pardon him.”
+
+The margins read, “on _our_ more advice,” overturning the authentic
+language of Shakespeare, who by the words “on _his_ more advice,” means
+on his having returned to a more reasonable state of mind, and shown
+some sorrow for his offence.
+
+_Act II. Scene 3._—We now come to one of the most memorable
+corrections—we might say to _the_ most memorable correction ever made on
+the text of our great dramatist. In Dame Quickly’s description of the
+death of Falstaff she says, as the old copies give it, “for after I saw
+him fumble with the sheets, and play with flowers, and smile upon his
+fingers’ ends, I knew there was but one way; for his nose was as sharp
+as a pen, and _a table of green fields_.” There is evidently something
+very wrong here. Theobald gave out as a new reading, “and a’ (he)
+babbled of green fields,” the history and character of which emendation
+he explained as follows: “I have an edition of Shakespeare by me with
+some marginal conjectures by a gentleman some time deceased, and he is
+of the mind to correct this passage thus: ‘for his nose was as sharp as
+a pen, and a’ _talked_ of green fields.’ It is certainly observable of
+people near death, when they are delirious by a fever, that they talk of
+moving, as it is of those in a calenture that their heads run on _green
+fields_. The variation from _table_ to _talked_ is not of very great
+latitude; though we may come still nearer to the traces of the letters
+by restoring it thus—‘for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and a’
+_babbled_ of green fields.’”—(_Vide_ Singer’s _Shakespeare Vindicated_,
+p. 127.)
+
+This, then, is now the received reading; and there can be no doubt that
+it is highly ingenious—indeed, singularly felicitous. But the MS.
+corrector’s emendation is also entitled to a hearing. He reads: “for his
+nose was as sharp as a pen _on a table of green frieze_.” This, it must
+be admitted, is a lamentable falling off, in point of sentiment, from
+the other conjectural amendment. We sympathise most feelingly with the
+distress of those who protest vehemently against the new reading, and
+who cling almost with tears to the text to which they have been
+accustomed. We admit that his babbling of green fields is a touch of
+poetry, if not of nature, which fills up the measure of our love for
+Falstaff, and affords the finest atonement that can be imagined for the
+mixed career—which is now drawing to a close—of the hoary debauchee. It
+is with the utmost reluctance that we throw a shade of suspicion over
+Theobald’s delightful emendation. Nevertheless, we are possessed with
+the persuasion that the MS. corrector’s variation is more likely to have
+been what Dame Quickly uttered, and what Shakespeare wrote. Our reasons
+are—_first_, the calenture, which causes people to rave about green
+fields, is a distemper peculiar to _sailors_ in hot climates;
+_secondly_, Falstaff’s mind seems to have been running more on sack than
+on green fields, as Dame Quickly admits further on in the dialogue;
+_thirdly_, however pleasing the supposition about his babbling of green
+fields may be, it is still more natural that Dame Quickly, whose
+attention was fixed on the sharpness of his nose set off against a
+countenance already darkening with the discoloration of death, should
+have likened it to the sharpness of a pen relieved against a table, or
+background, of green frieze. These reasons may be very insufficient: we
+are not quite satisfied with them ourselves. But, be they good or bad,
+we cannot divest ourselves of the impression (as we most willingly
+would) that the marginal correction, in this instance, comes nearer to
+the genuine language of Shakespeare than does the ordinary text.
+
+Should, then, the MS. corrector’s emendation be admitted into the text
+of the poet? That is a very different question; and we answer
+decidedly—No. Its claim is not so absolutely undoubted as to entitle it
+to this elevation. It is more probable, we think, than Theobald’s. But
+Theobald’s has by this time acquired a prescriptive right to the place
+which it enjoys. Although originally it may have been a usurpation, it
+is now strong with inveterate occupancy: it is consecrated to the hearts
+of all mankind, and it ought on no account to be displaced. It is part
+and parcel of our earliest associations with Falstaff, and its removal
+would do violence to the feelings of universal Christendom. This
+consideration, which shows how difficult, indeed how injudicious, it is
+to eradicate anything which has once fairly taken root in the text of
+Shakespeare, ought to make us all the more scrupulous in guarding his
+writings against such innovations as the MS. corrector usually proposes;
+for, however little these may have to recommend them, succeeding
+generations may become habituated to their presence, and, on the plea of
+prescription, may be indisposed to give them up.
+
+  “_Principiis obsta, sero medicina paratur._”
+
+_Act III., chorus._
+
+                    “Behold the threaden sails,
+            _Borne_ with the invisible and creeping wind,
+            Draw the huge bottoms through the furrowed sea.”
+
+“Borne” is here a far finer and more expressive word than “blown,” the
+MS. corrector’s prosaic substitution.
+
+_Act IV. Scene 1._—In the fine lines on ceremony, the MS. corrector
+proposes a new reading, which at first sight looks specious, but which a
+moderate degree of reflection compels us to reject. The common text is
+as follows:—
+
+            “And what art thou, thou idol ceremony?
+            What kind of god art thou, that sufferest more
+            Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers?
+            What are thy rents?—what are thy comings in?
+
+            O ceremony, show me but thy worth!
+            What is thy soul, O, adoration?
+            Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form,
+            Creating awe and fear in other men?
+            Wherein thou art less happy, being feared,
+            Than they in fearing.”
+
+The MS. corrector gives us—
+
+                  “O, ceremony, show me but thy worth!
+                  What is thy soul _but adulation_?”
+
+The objection to this reading is that Shakespeare’s lines are equivalent
+to—O, ceremony, thou hast _no_ worth; O, adoration, thou hast _no_
+soul—absolutely none. This reading, which denies to ceremony and
+adoration _all_ soul and substance—_all_ worth and reality—is more
+emphatic than the corrector’s, which declares that adulation is the soul
+of ceremony; and we therefore vote for allowing the text to remain as we
+found it.
+
+_Act IV. Scene 3._—In the following lines Shakespeare pays a
+compliment—not of the most elegant kind we admit—to the English, whose
+valour, he says, is such that even their dead bodies putrefying in the
+fields of France will carry death into the ranks of the enemy.
+
+             “Mark, then, abounding valour in the English;
+             That being dead, like to a bullet’s grazing,
+             Break out into a second course of mischief,
+             Killing in relapse of mortality.”
+
+The similitude of “the bullet’s grazing” has led the MS. corrector into
+two execrable errors. By way of carrying out the metaphor, he proposes
+to read “_re_bounding valour,” and “killing in _reflex_ of mortality.”
+But Shakespeare knew full well what he was about. He has kept his
+similitude within becoming bounds, while the corrector has driven it
+over the verge of all propriety. Both of his corrections are wretched,
+and the latter of them is outrageous. We are surprised that he did not
+propose “killing in reflex _off_ mortality,” for this would bring out
+his meaning much better than the expression which he has suggested. But
+we may rest assured that “killing in relapse of mortality” merely means,
+killing in their return to the dust from whence they were taken; and
+that this is the right reading.
+
+
+THE FIRST PART OF KING HENRY VI.—A difficulty occurs in the last line of
+_Act II. Scene 5_, where Plantagenet says—
+
+              “And therefore haste I to the Parliament,
+              Either to be restored to my blood,
+              _Or make my ill the advantage of my good_.”
+
+This is the common reading, and it means, “or make my ill the _occasion_
+of my good.” The earlier copies have “will” for “ill,” The MS.
+correction is—
+
+              “Or make my will _th’ advancer_ of my good.”
+
+But this is no improvement upon the common reading, which ought to
+remain unaltered.
+
+_Act IV. Scene 1._—A small but very significant instance, illustrative
+of what we are convinced is the true theory of these new readings,
+namely, that they are attempts, not to _restore_, but to _modernise_
+Shakespeare, comes before us in the following lines, where the knights
+of the garter are spoken of as
+
+            “Not fearing death, nor shrinking from distress,
+            But always resolute in _most extremes_.”
+
+“Most extremes” does not mean (as one ignorant of Shakespeare’s language
+might be apt to suppose) “in the greater number of extremes:” it means,
+in _extremest_ cases, or dangers. The same idiom occurs in the
+“Tempest,” where it is said—
+
+                        “Some kinds of baseness
+              Are nobly undergone, and _most poor_ matters
+              Point to rich ends;”
+
+which certainly does not mean that the greater number of poor matters
+point to rich ends, but that the poorest matters often do so. It would
+be well if the two words were always printed as one—most extremes, and
+most poor. Now, surely Mr Collier either cannot know that this
+phraseology is peculiarly Shakespearean, or he must be desirous of
+blotting out from the English language our great poet’s favourite forms
+of speech, when he says, “there is an injurious error of the printer in
+the second line;” and when he recommends us to accept the MS. marginal
+correction, by which Shakespeare’s archaism is exchanged for this
+_modernism_—
+
+               “But always resolute in _worst_ extremes.”
+
+_Act V. Scene 1._—How much more forcible are Shakespeare’s lines—
+
+               “See where he lies inhersed in the arms
+               Of the _most bloody_ nurser of his harms,”
+
+than the MS. substitution—
+
+             “Of the _still bleeding_ nurser of his harms.”
+
+_Scene 4._—Four competing readings of the following lines present
+themselves for adjudication—
+
+          “Ay, beauty’s princely majesty is such,
+          Confounds the tongue, and makes the senses _rough_.”
+
+This is the text of the earlier editions, and it evidently requires
+amendment. Sir T. Hanmer reads—
+
+         “Ay, beauty’s princely majesty is such,
+         Confounds the tongue, and makes the senses _crouch_.”
+
+Our MS. corrector proposes—
+
+         “Ay, beauty’s princely majesty is such,
+         Confounds the tongue, and _mocks the sense of touch_.”
+
+Mr Singer, who also, it seems, has a folio with MS. corrections, gives
+us, as a gleaning from its margins,
+
+         “Ay, beauty’s princely majesty is such,
+         Confounds the tongue, and _wakes the sense’s touch_.”
+
+It may assist us in coming to a decision, if we view this sentiment
+through the medium of prose. First, according to Sir T. Hanmer, the
+presence of beauty is so commanding that it confounds the tongue, and
+_overawes the senses_. Secondly, “The princely majesty of beauty,” says
+Mr Collier, expounding his protégé’s version, “confounds the power of
+speech, and _mocks all who would attempt to touch it_.” Thirdly,
+“Beauty,” says Mr Singer, taking up the cause of _his_ MS. corrector,
+“although it confounds the tongue, _awakes desire_. This _must_ have
+been the meaning of the poet.” How peremptory a man becomes in behalf of
+MS. readings of which he happens to be the sole depositary. We confess
+that we prefer Sir T. Hanmer’s to either of the other emendations, as
+the most intelligible and dignified of the three.
+
+
+THE SECOND PART OF KING HENRY VI.—_Act I. Scene 3._ (_Enter three or
+four petitioners._)
+
+  “_First Petitioner._—My masters, let us stand close, my Lord Protector
+  will come this way by and by, and then we may deliver our
+  supplications _in the quill_.”
+
+“In the quill”—what does that mean? Nobody can tell us. The margins
+furnish “in sequel.” Mr Singer advances, “in the quoil, or coil”—“that
+is,” says he, “in the bustle or tumult which would arise at the time the
+Protector passed.” And this we prefer.
+
+_Act II. Scene 3._—Anything viler than the following italicised
+interpolation, or more out of keeping with the character of the speaker
+and the dignity of the scene, it is impossible to conceive. Queen Mary
+says to the Duke of Glo’ster—
+
+         “Give up your staff, sir, and the King his realm.
+
+         _Glo’ster._ My staff?—here, noble Henry, is my staff!
+         _To think I fain would keep it makes me laugh_;
+         As willingly I do the same resign
+         As e’er thy father, Henry, made it mine.”
+
+Yet Mr Collier has the hardihood to place this abominable forgery in the
+front of his battle, by introducing it into his preface, where he says,
+“Ought we not to welcome it with thanks as a fortunate recovery and a
+valuable restoration?” No, indeed, we ought to send it to the right
+about _instanter_, and order the apartment to be fumigated from which it
+had been expelled.
+
+_Act III. Scene 2._—The MS. corrector seems to be right in his amendment
+of these lines. Suffolk says to the Queen,
+
+                            “Live thou to joy in life,
+            Myself _to_ joy in nought but that thou liv’st.”
+
+The ordinary reading is “no” for “to.” This ought to go into the text;
+and the same honour ought to be extended to “rebel” for “rabble” in
+Clifford’s speech, _Act IV. Scene 8_.
+
+
+THE THIRD PART OF KING HENRY VI.—In this play two creditable marginal
+emendations come before us, one of which it might be safe to admit into
+the text. The safe emendation is _ev’n_, in the lines where the father
+is lamenting over his slain son, (_Act II. Scene 5_)—
+
+              “And so obsequious will thy father be,
+              _Ev’n_ for the loss of thee, having no more,
+              As Priam was for all his valiant sons.”
+
+The ancient copies have “men,” and the modern ones “sad.” _Ev’n_ was
+also proposed by Mr Dyce some little time ago. The other specious
+correction is “bitter-flowing” for “water-flowing,” in the lines where
+the king says (_Act IV. Scene 8_),
+
+            “My mildness hath allayed their swelling griefs,
+            My mercy dried their _water-flowing_ tears.”
+
+But “water-flowing” may simply mean flowing as plentifully as water, and
+therefore our opinion is, that the corrector’s substitution ought not to
+be accepted. “Soft carriage” (_Act II. Scene 2_), recommended by the
+margins, instead of “soft courage,” is not by any means so plausible.
+“Soft courage” may be a Shakespeareanism for soft _spirit_. The Germans
+have a word, _sanftmuth_—literally soft courage—_i. e._, gentleness; and
+therefore Shakespeare’s expression is not what Mr Collier calls it, “a
+contradiction in terms.”
+
+_Act V. Scene 5._—The young prince having been stabbed by Edward,
+Clarence, and Glo’ster, Margaret exclaims—
+
+                           “O, traitors! murderers!
+             They that stabb’d Cæsar shed no blood at all,
+             Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame,
+             If this foul deed were by to _equal_ it”—
+
+which, of course, means that Cæsar’s murderers would be pronounced
+comparatively innocent, if this foul deed were set alongside their act.
+The margins propose,
+
+              “If this foul deed were by to _sequel_ it”—
+
+than which nothing can be more inept.
+
+
+KING RICHARD III.—_Act I. Scene 3._—Richard is thus agreeably depicted:
+
+              “Thou elvish-marked, abortive, rooting hog,
+              Thou that wast seal’d in thy nativity,
+              The slave of nature, and the son of hell!”
+
+The correction here proposed is—
+
+           “The _stain_ of nature, and the _scorn_ of hell.”
+
+But the allusion, as Steevens says, is to the ancient custom of masters
+branding their profligate slaves; and, therefore, “slave” is
+unquestionably the right word. As for the “_scorn_ of hell,” that, in
+certain cases, might be a compliment, and is no more than what a good
+man would desire to be.
+
+_Act III. Scene 1._—Buckingham is endeavouring to persuade the Cardinal
+to refuse the privilege of sanctuary to the Duke of York. The Cardinal
+says—
+
+                      “God in heaven forbid
+        We should infringe the holy privilege
+        Of blessed sanctuary! not for all this land
+        Would I be guilty of so deep a crime.
+
+        _Buckingham._ You are too senseless-obstinate, my lord,
+        Too ceremonious and traditional:
+        Weigh it but with the _grossness_ of this age,
+        You break not sanctuary in seizing him.”
+
+That is, do not go to your traditions, but take into account the
+unrefining character and somewhat licentious practice of _this_ age, and
+you will perceive that you break not sanctuary in seizing him; for
+common sense declares that a youth of his years cannot claim this
+privilege. This interpretation renders the MS. corrector’s inept
+substitution, “the _goodness_ of _his_ age,” quite unnecessary. _Strict
+and abstinent_ for “senseless-obstinate” is still worse.
+
+_Act III. Scene 7._—To change “his resemblance” into _disresemblance_,
+is to substitute a very forced and unnatural reading for a very plain
+and obvious one. Glo’ster asks Buckingham,
+
+            “Touched you the bastardy of Edward’s children?”
+
+“I did,” answers Buckingham, who then goes on to say, “I also touched
+upon his own (_i. e._ Edward the Fourth’s) bastardy,”
+
+            “As being got, your father then in France,
+            And _his resemblance_ not being like the Duke,”
+
+—that is, I also touched upon his resemblance (which is no resemblance)
+to his (reputed) father the Duke. “Disresemblance” has not a shadow of
+probability in its favour.
+
+_Act IV. Scene 3._—Mr Collier seriously advocates the change of “bloody
+dogs” into “blooded dogs,” in the lines about the two ruffians.
+
+          “Albeit they were fleshed villains, _bloody_ dogs.”
+
+“Blooded dogs” means, if it means anything, dogs that have been _let_
+blood, and not dogs that are about to _draw_ blood as _these_ dogs are.
+There seems to be nothing in the other corrections of this play which
+calls for further notice.
+
+
+KING HENRY VIII.—_Act I. Scene 1._—Speaking of Cardinal Wolsey,
+Buckingham says,
+
+                            “A beggar’s _book_
+                      Outworths a noble’s blood.”
+
+The margins offer—
+
+                            “A beggar’s _brood_
+                      Outworths a noble’s blood.”
+
+This emendation looks plausible; but read Johnson’s note, and you will
+be of a different way of thinking. He says—“that is, the literary
+qualifications of a _bookish beggar_ are more prized than the high
+descent of hereditary greatness. This is a contemptuous exclamation very
+naturally put into the mouth of one of the ancient, unlettered, martial
+nobility.” In scene 2, the change of “trembling contribution” into
+“_trebling_ contribution,” where the increase of the taxes is spoken of,
+is a proper correction, and we set it down to the credit of the MS.
+corrector as one which ought to go into the text.
+
+_Act II. Scene 3._—What a fine poeticism comes before us in the use of
+the word _salute_ in the lines where Anne Bullen declares that her
+advancement gives her no satisfaction.
+
+                                 “Would I had no being,
+                 If this _salute_ my blood a jot,”
+
+—that is, this promotion is not like a peal of bells to my blood; it is
+not like the firing of cannon; it is not like the huzzaing of a great
+multitude: it rather weighs me down under a load of anxiety and
+depression; or, as she herself expresses it—
+
+                        “It faints me
+                        To think what follows.”
+
+The MS. corrector, turning, as is his way, poetry into prose, reads—
+
+                            “Would I had no being,
+                    If this _elate_ my blood a jot.”
+
+This must go to the _debit_ side of the old corrector’s account.
+
+In _Scene 4_ of the same act, the queen, on her trial, adjures the king,
+if she be proved guilty—
+
+                                 “In God’s name
+               Turn me away; and let the foul’st contempt
+               Shut door upon me, and so give me up
+               To the sharpest _kind_ of justice.”
+
+The MS. corrector writes—“to the sharpest _knife_ of justice.” But the
+queen is here speaking of a _kind_ of justice sharper even than the
+knife—to wit, the contempt and ignominy which she imprecates on her own
+head if she be a guilty woman; and therefore “kind of justice” is the
+proper expression for her to use, and the MS. substitution is
+unquestionably out of place.
+
+_Act III. Scene 2._—Mr Singer says, “‘Now _may all_ joy trace the
+conjunction,’ instead of, ‘Now _all my_ joy,’ &c. is a good conjecture,
+and may, I think, be safely adopted.” We agree with Mr Singer.
+
+_Act III. Scene 2._—The following is one of the cases on which Mr
+Collier most strongly relies as proving the perspicacity and
+trustworthiness of his corrector. He brings it forward in his
+introduction (p. xv.), where he says, “When Henry VIII. tells Wolsey—
+
+                           ‘You have scarce time
+             To steal from _spiritual leisure_ a brief span
+             To keep your earthly audit,’
+
+he cannot mean that the cardinal has scarcely time to steal from
+‘leisure,’ but from ‘labour’ (the word was misheard by the scribe); and
+while ‘leisure’ makes nonsense of the sentence, _labour_ is exactly
+adapted to the place.
+
+                          ‘You scarce have time
+            To steal from spiritual _labour_ a brief span.’
+
+The substituted word is found in the margin of the folio 1632. This
+instance seems indisputable.” Did Mr Collier, we may here ask, never
+hear of _learned leisure_, when he thus brands as nonsensical the
+expression “spiritual leisure”? Is it nonsense to say that the study of
+Shakespeare has been the occupation of Mr Collier’s “learned leisure”
+during the last fifty years, and that he has had little time to spare
+for any other pursuit? And if that be not nonsense, why should it be
+absurd to talk of the “spiritual leisure” of Cardinal Wolsey, as that
+which left him little or no time to attend to his temporal concerns?
+Spiritual leisure means occupation with religious matters, just as
+learned leisure means occupation with literary matters. Leisure does not
+necessarily signify idleness, as boys at _school_ (σχολη—leisure) know
+full well. It is a polite synonym, perhaps slightly tinged with irony,
+for labour of an unmenial and unprofessional character. It stands
+opposed, not to every kind of work, but only to the work of “men of
+business,” as they are called. And it is used in this place by
+Shakespeare with the very finest propriety. In so far, therefore, as
+this flower of speech is concerned, we must insist on turning “the
+weeder-clips aside” of Mr Collier’s ruthless spoliator, and on rejecting
+the vulgar weed which he offers to plant in its place.
+
+_Act IV. Scene 2._—In the following passage, however, we approve of the
+spoliator’s punctuation, which it seems Mr Singer had adopted in his
+edition 1826.
+
+                             “This Cardinal,
+             Though from an humble stock undoubtedly,
+             Was fashioned to much honour from his cradle.
+             He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one.”
+
+All the common copies place a full stop after honour, and represent the
+cardinal as a scholar “ripe and good from his cradle,” as if he had been
+born with a perfect knowledge of Greek and Latin.
+
+_Act V. Scene 2._—It is very difficult to say what should be made of the
+following:—
+
+                                  “But we all are men,
+                  In our natures frail; _and capable
+                  Of our flesh_; few are angels.”
+
+Malone proposed—
+
+                  “In our natures frail: _incapable_;
+                  Of our flesh few are angels.”
+
+The margins propose “_culpable_ of our flesh,” which was also
+recommended by Mr Monck Mason. We venture to suggest—
+
+                    “In our natures frail; incapable
+                    Of our flesh.”
+
+_i. e._, incontinent of our flesh. But whatever may be done with this
+new reading, the next ought certainly to be rigorously excluded from the
+text. _Loquitur_ Cranmer—
+
+                               “Nor is there living
+             (I speak it with a single heart, my Lords)
+             A man that more detests, _more stirs_ against,
+             Both in his private conscience and his place,
+             Defacers of a public peace, than I do.”
+
+“The substitution of _strives_ for ‘stirs,’” as Mr Singer very properly
+remarks, “would be high treason against a nervous Shakespearean
+expression.”
+
+_Scene 3._—The MS. emendation in the speech of the porter’s man (_queen_
+for “chine,” and _crown_ for “cow”) is certainly entitled to
+consideration; but it is quite possible that his language, being that of
+a clown, may be designedly nonsensical.
+
+
+TROILUS AND CRESSIDA.—_Act I. Scene 2._—Cressida says,
+
+              “Achievement is, command—ungained, beseech.”
+
+This line is probably misprinted. Mr Harness long ago proposed,
+
+            “_Achieved, men us_ command—ungained, beseech,”
+
+—that is, men _command_ us (women) when we are achieved or gained
+over—they _beseech_ us, so long as we are ungained. The MS. corrector’s
+emendation falls very far short of the perspicuity of this amendment. He
+gives us—
+
+           “_Achieved, men still_ command—ungained, beseech.”
+
+_Scene 3._—We may notice, in passing, a “new reading” proposed by Mr
+Singer, which, though ingenious, we cannot be prevailed upon to accept.
+It occurs in the following lines, where Ulysses says—
+
+         “The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre
+         Observe degree, priority, and place,
+         Insisture, course, proportion, season, form,
+         Office, and custom in all line of order;
+         And therefore is the glorious planet, Sol,
+         In noble eminence enthroned and sphered
+         Amidst the _other_; whose med’cinable eye
+         Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil,
+         And posts like the commandment of a king,
+         Sans check, to good and bad.”
+
+Instead of “other,” Mr Singer proposes to read “ether.” But “other” is
+more in harmony with the context, in which the sun is specially
+described as exercising a dominion over the _other_ celestial
+luminaries. The parallel passage from Cicero, which Mr Singer quotes,
+tells just as much against him as for him. “Medium fere regionem sol
+obtinet, dux, et princeps, et moderater luminum _reliquiorum_.” We
+therefore protest against the established text being disturbed.
+
+To return to Mr Collier. He must have very extraordinary notions of
+verbal propriety when he can say that “a fine compound epithet appears
+to have escaped in the hands of the old printer, and a small manuscript
+correction in the margin converts a poor expression into one of great
+force and beauty in these lines—
+
+    ‘What the repining enemy commends
+    That breath fame blows; that praise, _sole pure_, transcends;’”
+
+—that is, praise from an enemy is praise of the highest quality, and is
+the _only pure_ kind of praise. The poor expression here condemned is
+“sole pure,” and the fine compound epithet which is supposed to have
+escaped the fingers of the old compositor, is _soul-pure_. We venture to
+think that Shakespeare used the right words to express his own meaning,
+and that the MS. corrector’s fine compound epithet is one of the most
+lack-a-daisical of the daisies that peer out upon us from the margins of
+the folio 1632.
+
+_Act III. Scene 1._—The words, “my _disposer_ Cressida,” have been
+satisfactorily shown by Mr Singer to mean, my _handmaiden_ Cressida.
+Therefore the change of “disposer” into _dispraiser_, as recommended by
+the MS. corrector, is quite uncalled for. The speech, however, in which
+these words occur must be taken from Paris, and given to Helen.
+
+_Act III. Scene 2._—In the dialogue between Troilus and Cressida, the
+lady says, that she must take leave of him:
+
+               “_Troilus._—What offends you, lady?
+
+               _Cressida._—Sir, mine own company.
+
+               _Troilus._—You cannot shun yourself.
+
+               _Cressida._—Let me go and try.
+               I have a kind of self resides with you,
+               But an unkind self that itself will leave
+               To be another’s fool.”
+
+This conversation is not very clear; yet sense may be made of it. The
+lady says, that she is offended with her own company: the gentleman
+rejoins, that she cannot get rid of herself. “Let me try,” says the
+lady; “I have a kind of self which resides with you—an unkind self,
+because it leaves _me_ to be _your_ fool; of that self I can get rid,
+because it will remain with you when I leave you.” The MS. emendation
+affords no kind of sense whatsoever.
+
+              “I have a _kind self that_ resides with you,
+              But an unkind self that itself will leave
+              To be another’s fool.”
+
+_Scene 3._—In the following passage, in which it is said that the eye is
+unable to see itself except by reflection, these lines occur:
+
+            “For speculation turns not to itself
+            Till it hath travelled, and is _married_ there,
+            Where it may see itself.”
+
+_Mirrored_, for “married,” is certainly a very excellent emendation; but
+it may reasonably be doubted whether _mirror_ was used as a verb in
+Shakespeare’s time. “To mirror” does not occur even in Johnson’s
+Dictionary. This consideration makes us hesitate to recommend it for the
+text; for “married,” though, perhaps, not so good, still makes sense. On
+further reflection we are satisfied that “married” was Shakespeare’s
+word. In this Scene Shakespeare says, “that the providence that’s in a
+watchful state” is able to unveil human thoughts “in their dumb
+_cradles_,” in their very _incunabula_—a finer expression certainly than
+the MS. corrector’s substitution “in their dumb _crudities_.”
+
+_Act IV. Scene 4._—Between Mr Collier and his corrector the following
+passage would be perverted into nonsense, if they were allowed to have
+their own way:
+
+             “And sometimes we are devils to ourselves
+             When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,
+             Presuming on their _changeful_ potency;”
+
+—that is, trusting rashly to their potency, which is better than
+_im_potency, and yet falls far short of _perfect_ potency. Mr Collier
+hazards the opinion, that “unchangeful potency” would be a better
+reading. We cannot agree with him except to this extent that it would be
+a better reading than the one which the MS. corrector proposes,
+
+                “Presuming on their _chainful_ potency,”
+
+which we leave to the approbation of those who can understand it.
+
+_Scene 5._—The lines in which certain ladies of frail virtue, or, in the
+stronger language of Johnson, “corrupt wenches,” are spoken of, have
+given rise to much comment.
+
+             “Oh! these encounterers so glib of tongue,
+             That give _a coasting_ welcome ere it comes.”
+
+This is the ordinary reading. The margins propose,
+
+              “That give _occasion_ welcome ere it comes.”
+
+We prefer the emendation suggested by Monck Mason and Coleridge,
+
+             “That give _accosting_ welcome ere it comes;”
+
+—that is, who take the initiative, and address before they are
+addressed.
+
+
+CORIOLANUS.—_Act I. Scene 1._—In his first emendation, the MS. corrector
+betrays his ignorance of the right meaning of words. The term “object,”
+which nowadays is employed rather loosely in several acceptations, is
+used by Shakespeare, in the following passage, in its proper and
+original signification. One of the Roman citizens, referring to the
+poverty of the plebeians as contrasted with the wealth of the
+patricians, remarks, “The leanness that afflicts us, the _object_ of our
+misery, is an inventory to particularise their abundance; our suffering
+is a gain to them.” For “object” we should, nowadays, say _spectacle_.
+But the corrector cannot have known that this was the meaning of the
+word, otherwise he surely never would have been so misguided as to
+propose the term _abjectness_ in its place. “This substitution,” says Mr
+Collier, “could hardly have proceeded from the mere taste or discretion
+of the old corrector.” No, truly; but it proceeded from his want of
+taste, his want of discretion, and his want of knowledge.
+
+The ink with which these MS. corrections were made, being, as Mr Collier
+tells us, of various shades, differing sometimes on the same page, he is
+of opinion that they “must have been introduced from time to time
+during, perhaps, the course of several years.” We think this a highly
+probable supposition; only, instead of _several_ years, we would suggest
+_sixty_ or _seventy_ years. So that, supposing the MS. corrector to have
+begun his work when he was about thirty, he may have completed it when
+he was about ninety or a hundred years of age. At any rate, he must have
+been in the last stage of second childhood when he jotted down the
+following new reading in the famous fable of the “belly and the
+members.” The belly, speaking of the food it receives, says—
+
+       “I send it through the rivers of the blood,
+       Even to the court, the heart, _to the seat o’ the_ brain,
+       And through the cranks and offices of man.”
+
+And so on; upon which one of the citizens asks Menenius, the relator of
+the fable, “How apply you this?”
+
+       “_Menenius._ The _senators_ of Rome are this good _belly_,
+       And you the mutinous members.”
+
+Yet, with this line staring him in the face, the old corrector proposes
+to read,
+
+           “I send it through the rivers of the blood,
+           Even to the court, the heart, the _senate brain_.”
+
+The senate brain! when Shakespeare has distinctly told us that the
+senate is the belly. This indeed is the very _point_ of the fable.
+Surely nothing except the most extreme degree of dotage can account for
+such a manifest perversion as that; yet Mr Collier says that “it much
+improves the sense.”
+
+The MS. corrector cannot have been nearly so old when he changed
+“almost” into _all most_ in the line,
+
+           “Nay, these are _all most_ thoroughly persuaded;”
+
+for this is decidedly an improvement, and ought, we think, to get
+admission into the text.
+
+_Scene 3._—Unless we can obtain a better substitute than _contemning_,
+we are not disposed to alter the received reading of these lines:
+
+                          “The breasts of Hecuba,
+            When she did suckle Hector, look’d not lovelier
+            Than Hector’s forehead, when it spit forth blood
+            At Grecian swords _contending_.”
+
+_Scene 6._—In the following passage a small word occasions a great
+difficulty. Coriolanus, wishing to select a certain number out of a
+large body of soldiers who have offered him their services, says—
+
+                               “Please you to march,
+             And _four_ shall quickly draw out my command,
+             Which men are best inclined.”
+
+But why “four?” Surely four men would not be sufficient for the attack
+which he meditated. The MS. corrector gives us—
+
+                            “Please you to march _before_,
+              And _I_ shall quickly draw out my command,
+              Which men are best inclined.”
+
+The second line is unintelligible, and not to be construed on any known
+principles of grammar. Mr Singer proposes—
+
+                               “Please you to march,
+             And _some_ shall quickly draw out my command,
+             Which men are best inclined.”
+
+We would suggest—
+
+                               “Please you to march,
+             And _those_ shall quickly draw out my command,
+             Which men are best inclined,”
+
+—that is: And my command shall quickly draw out, or select, those men
+which (men) are best inclined to be of service to me. The construction
+here is indeed awkward, but less awkward, we think, than that of the
+other emendations.
+
+_Scene 9._—The punctuation of the following passage requires to be put
+right. Coriolanus is declaring how much disgusted he is with the
+flatteries, the flourish of trumpets, and other demonstrations of
+applause with which he is saluted—
+
+        “May these same instruments which you profane
+        Never sound more!  When drums and trumpets shall
+        I’ the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be
+        Made all of false-faced soothing. When steel grows
+        Soft as the parasite’s silk, let him be made
+        A coverture for the wars!”
+
+But what is the sense of saying—let courts and cities be made up of
+hypocrisy, _when_ drums and trumpets in the field shall prove
+flatterers? This has no meaning. We should punctuate the lines thus—
+
+        “May these same instruments which you profane,
+        Never sound more, when drums and trumpets shall
+        I’ the field prove flatterers. Let courts and cities be
+        Made all of false-faced soothing,” &c.
+
+The meaning is—When drums and trumpets in the field shall prove
+flatterers (as they are doing at present), may they never sound more!
+Let _courts_ and _cities_ be as hollow-hearted as they please; but let
+the _camp_ enjoy an immunity from these fulsome observances. When steel
+grows soft as the parasite’s silk (that is, when the warrior loses his
+stubborn and unbending character), let silk be made a coverture for the
+wars, for it will then be quite as useful as steel. The only alteration
+which the MS. corrector proposes in this passage, is the substitution of
+_coverture_ for the original reading “overture”—a change which was long
+ago made.
+
+_Act II. Scene 1._—The margins make an uncommonly good hit in the speech
+of Menenius, who says, “I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one
+that loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in’t:
+said to be something imperfect in favouring the _first_ complaint.” No
+sense can be extracted from this by any process of distillation. The old
+corrector, brightening up for an instant, writes “_thirst_ complaint;”
+on which Mr Singer remarks, “The alteration of ‘first’ into _thirst_ is
+not necessary, for it seems that thirst was sometimes provincially
+pronounced and spelt _first_ and _furst_.” Come, come, Mr Singer, that
+is hardly fair. Let us give the devil his due. What one reader of
+Shakespeare out of every million was to know that “first” was a
+provincialism for _thirst_? We ourselves, at least, had not a suspicion
+of it till the old corrector opened our eyes to the right reading—the
+meaning of which is, “I am said to have a failing in yielding rather too
+readily to the _thirst_ complaint.” This emendation covers a multitude
+of sins, and ought, beyond a doubt, to be promoted into the text.
+
+We also willingly accept _empirick physic_ for “empirick qutique,” the
+ordinary, but unintelligible reading.
+
+A difficulty occurs in the admirable verses in which the whole city is
+described as turning out in order to get a sight of the triumphant
+Coriolanus.
+
+           “All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights
+           Are spectacled to see him. Your prattling nurse
+           Into a rapture lets her baby cry
+           While she _chats_ him. The kitchen malkin pins
+           Her richest lockram ’bout her reechy neck,
+           Clambering the walls to eye him.”
+
+_Cheers_ instead of “chats” is proposed by the old corrector. Mr Singer
+says that cheers “savours too much of modern times,” and suggests
+_claps_; but a woman with an infant in her arms would find some
+difficulty, we fancy, in clapping her hands; though, perhaps, this very
+difficulty and her attempt to overcome it may have been the cause of her
+baby crying himself “into a rapture.” We are disposed, however, to
+adhere to the old lection—“while she chats _him_”—that is, while she
+makes Coriolanus the subject of her gabble. For it ought to be borne in
+mind that Coriolanus has not, as yet, made his appearance: and,
+therefore, both _cheering_ and _clapping_ would be premature. We observe
+that, instead of a “rapture”—_i. e._, a fit—one of the wiseacres of the
+_variorum_ proposes to read _a rupture_! The nurse lets the baby cry
+himself _into a rupture_! This outflanks even the margins. The annotator
+subscribes himself “S. W.”—which means, we presume, Something Wanting in
+the upper story.
+
+We accept _touch_ for “reach” in the sentence where it is said, “his
+soaring insolence shall _reach_ (the oldest reading is “teach”) the
+people. This correction had been already proposed by Mr Knight. But we
+cannot approve of the following change (_prest_ for “blest,” _Scene 2_)
+which has obtained the sanction of Mr Singer. Sicinius has just remarked
+that the senate has assembled to do honour to Coriolanus, on which
+Brutus says—
+
+                            “Which the rather
+               We shall be _blest_ to do, if he remember
+               A kinder value of the people, than
+               He hath hereto prized them at.”
+
+Does not this mean—which honour we shall be _most happy_ to do to
+Coriolanus, if &c.? Why then change “blest” into _prest?_ a very
+unnatural mode of speech.
+
+_Scene 3._—In the next instance, however, we side most cordially with
+the margins and Mr Collier, against Mr Singer and the ordinary text. The
+haughty Coriolanus, who is a candidate for the consulship, says—
+
+            “Why in this _wolvish_ gown should I stand here,
+            To beg of Hob and Dick?” &c.
+
+Now Shakespeare, in a previous part of the play, has described the
+candidate’s toga as “the _napless_ vesture of humility;” and it is well
+known that this toga was of a different texture from that usually worn.
+Is it not probable, therefore—nay certain—that Coriolanus should speak
+of it as _woolless_, the word wolvish being altogether unintelligible?
+Accordingly, the MS. corrector reads—
+
+           “Why in this _woolless_ gown should I stand here.”
+
+Mr Singer, defending the old reading, says, it is sufficient that his
+investiture in this gown “was _simulating_ humility not in his nature,
+to bring to mind the fable of the _wolf_.” Oh, Mr Singer! but must not
+the epithet in that case have been _sheepish_? Surely, if Coriolanus had
+felt himself to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing, he never would have said
+that he was a sheep in _wolves’_ clothing![4]
+
+_Act III. Scene 1._—In the following speech of Coriolanus several
+corrections are proposed, one of which, and perhaps two, might be
+admitted into the text:—
+
+         “O, good but most unwise patricians! why,
+         You grave but reckless senators, have you thus
+         Given Hydra _here_ to choose an officer
+         That with his peremptory ‘shall’ (being but
+         The horn and noise of the monsters), wants not spirit
+         To say he’ll turn your current in a ditch,
+         And make your channel his? If he have power,
+         Then vail your ignorance: if none, _awake_
+         Your dangerous lenity.”
+
+_Leave_ for “here” is, we think, a good exchange; and _revoke_ for
+“awake,” an improvement which can scarcely be resisted. Further on,
+Coriolanus asks—
+
+                                   “Well, what then,
+               How shall this _bosom multiplied_, digest
+               The senate’s courtesy?”
+
+There is, it seems, an old word _bisson_, signifying blind; and
+therefore we see no good reason (although such may exist) against
+accepting, as entitled to textual advancement, the old corrector’s
+substitution of _bisson multitude_ for “bosom multiplied.” The latter,
+however, is defended, as we learn from Mr Singer, “by one strenuous
+dissentient voice.” Why did he not tell us by whom and where? One
+excellent emendation by Mr Singer himself we must here notice.
+Coriolanus speaks of those who wish
+
+               “To _jump_ a body with a dangerous physic
+               That’s sure of death without it.”
+
+No sense can be made of this. Some copies have _vamp_, which is not a
+bad reading; but there is an old word _imp_, which signifies to piece or
+patch. Accordingly, Mr Singer reads—“To _imp_ a body,” &c. This is the
+word which ought to stand in the text.
+
+_Scene 2._—Here the old corrector is again at his forging tricks upon a
+large scale. Volumnia says to Coriolanus, her son—
+
+                          “Pray be counsell’d,
+              I have a heart as little apt as yours
+              _To brook control without the use of anger_;
+              But yet a brain that leads my use of anger
+              To better vantage.”
+
+The interpolated line is very unlike the diction of Shakespeare, and is
+not at all called for. “Apt” here means pliant, accommodating. “I have a
+heart as stubborn and unaccommodating as your own; but yet,” &c. Mr
+Singer proposes _soft_ for “apt;” but this seems unnecessary.
+
+_Act IV. Scene 1._—Although the construction of the latter part of these
+lines is somewhat involved, it is far more after the manner of
+Shakespeare than the correction which the margins propose. Coriolanus
+says to his mother—
+
+                                 “Nay, mother,
+         Where is your ancient courage? You were used
+         To say extremity was the trier of spirits;
+         That common chances common men could bear,
+         That when the sea was calm, all boats alike
+         Show’d mastership in floating; fortune’s blows,
+         When most struck home, being _gentle wounded_, craves
+         A noble cunning.”
+
+_Gentle-minded_ is the new reading; but it is quite uncalled for. The
+meaning is—You were used to say that when fortune’s blows were most
+struck home, to be gentle, _though_ wounded, craves a noble cunning—that
+is, a high degree of self-command.
+
+_Scene 5._—It is curious to remark how cleverly Shakespeare has
+anticipated old Hobbes’ theory of human nature and of society, in the
+scene where the serving-men are discussing the merits of peace and war.
+“Peace,” says one of them, “makes men _hate_ one another.” “The reason?”
+asks another. Answer—“Because they then _less need_ one another.” This,
+in a very few words, is exactly the doctrine of the old philosopher of
+Malmesbury.
+
+_Scene 6._—“[_God_] Marcius” for “_good_ Marcius,” is a commendable
+emendation; and perhaps, also, it may be proper to read—
+
+                       “You have made fair hands,
+             You and your _handycrafts_ have crafted fair,”
+
+instead of
+
+             “You and your crafts, you have crafted fair.”
+
+The following passage (_Scene 7_) has given a good deal of trouble to
+the commentators. Aufidius is describing Coriolanus as a man who, with
+all his merits, had failed, through some unaccountable perversity of
+judgment, in attaining the position which his genius entitled him to
+occupy. He then says—
+
+                             “So our virtues
+       Lie in the interpretation of the time;
+       And power, unto itself most commendable,
+       Hath not a tomb so evident _as a chair_
+       To extol what it hath done.
+       One fire drives out one fire, one nail one nail,
+       Right’s by right _fouler_, strengths by strength do fail.”
+
+Our virtues, says Aufidius, consist in our ability to interpret, and
+turn to good account, the signs of the times. “And power, unto itself
+most commendable, hath not a tomb so evident as a chair to extol what it
+hath done;” that is,—and power, which delights to praise itself, is sure
+to have a downfall, so soon as it blazons forth its pretensions from the
+_rostrum_. The MS. corrector proposes—
+
+             “Hath not a tomb so evident _as a cheer_,” &c.
+
+The original text is obscurely enough expressed, but the new reading
+seems to be utter nonsense. What _can_ Mr Singer mean by his reading—
+
+               “Hath not a tomb so evident as a _hair_”?
+
+The old corrector also reads, unnecessarily, as we think, _suffer_ for
+“fouler.” “Rights by rights _suffer_.” There seems to be no necessity
+for changing the received text. “Right is fouler by right,”—which
+Steevens thus explains: “what is already right, and is received as such,
+becomes less clear when supported by supernumerary proof.”
+
+_Act V. Scene 3._—An emendation, good so far as it goes, comes before us
+in the speech of Volumnia, the mother of Coriolanus. She, his wife, and
+young son, are supplicating the triumphant renegade to spare his native
+country. She says that, instead of his presence being a comfort to them,
+it is a sight—
+
+              “Making the mother, wife, and child to see
+              The son, the husband, and the father tearing
+              His country’s bowels out. And _to_ poor we
+              Thine _enmity’s_ most capital.”
+
+This is the reading of the ordinary copies, but it is neither sense nor
+grammar. The old corrector removes the full stop after _out_, and reads—
+
+               “His country’s bowels out; and so poor we
+               Thine enemies most capital.”
+
+But if this is the right reading, it must be completed by changing “we”
+into _us_. The meaning will then be—making thy mother, wife, &c.; and so
+(making) poor _us_ (that is, those whom you are bound to love and
+protect before all others) thy chief enemies.
+
+_Scene 5._—Aufidius, speaking of Coriolanus, says, I
+
+                            “Served his designments
+              In mine own person, holp to _reap_ the fame
+              Which he did _end_ all his.”
+
+The word “end” has been a stumbling-block to the commentators. The old
+corrector reads—
+
+                      “Holp to reap the fame
+                      Which he did _ear_ all his.”
+
+On which Mr Singer remarks, with a good deal of pertinency, “The
+substitution of _ear_ for ‘end’ is a good emendation of an evident
+misprint; but the correctors have only half done their work: _ear_—_i.
+e._ plough—and _reap_ should change places; or Aufidius is made to say
+that he had a share in the harvest, while Coriolanus had all the labour
+of ploughing, contrary to what is intended to be said. The passage will
+then run thus—
+
+                           ‘Served his designments
+               In mine own person; holp to _ear_ the fame
+               Which he did _reap_ all his.’
+
+“This,” adds Mr Singer, “is the suggestion of a correspondent of _Notes
+and Queries_, vol. vii. p. 378.”
+
+Ten plays, as revised by the old corrector, still remain to be
+overhauled. These shall be disposed of in our next Number, when it will
+appear that the MS. emendations offer no symptoms of improvement, but
+come out worse and worse the more fully and attentively they are
+considered.
+
+
+
+
+                          THE DUKE’S DILEMMA.
+                      A CHRONICLE OF NIESENSTEIN.
+
+
+The close of the theatrical year, which in France occurs in early
+spring, annually brings to Paris a throng of actors and actresses, the
+disorganised elements of provincial companies, who repair to the capital
+to contract engagements for the new season. Paris is the grand centre to
+which all dramatic stars converge—the great bazaar where managers
+recruit their troops for the summer campaign. In bad weather the mart
+for this human merchandise is at an obscure coffeehouse near the Rue St
+Honoré; when the sun shines, the place of meeting is in the garden of
+the Palais Royal. There, pacing to and fro beneath the lime-trees, the
+high contracting parties pursue their negotiations and make their
+bargains. It is the theatrical Exchange, the histrionic _Bourse_. There
+the conversation and the company are alike curious. Many are the strange
+discussions and original anecdotes that there are heard; many the odd
+figures there paraded. Tragedians, comedians, singers, men and women,
+young and old, flock thither in quest of fortune and a good engagement.
+The threadbare coats of some say little in favour of recent success or
+present prosperity; but only hear them speak, and you are at once
+convinced that _they_ have no need of broadcloth who are so amply
+covered with laurels. It is delightful to hear them talk of their
+triumphs, of the storms of applause, the rapturous bravos, the boundless
+enthusiasm, of the audiences they lately delighted. Their brows are
+oppressed with the weight of their bays. The south mourns their loss; if
+they go west, the north will be envious and inconsolable. As to
+themselves—north, south, east, or west—they care little to which point
+of the compass the breeze of their destiny may waft them. Thorough
+gypsies in their habits, accustomed to make the best of the passing
+hour, and to take small care for the future so long as the present is
+provided for, like soldiers they heed not the name of the town so long
+as the quarters be good.
+
+It was a fine morning in April. The sun shone brightly, and, amongst the
+numerous loungers in the garden of the Palais Royal were several groups
+of actors. The season was already far advanced; all the companies were
+formed, and those players who had not secured an engagement had but a
+poor chance of finding one. Their anxiety was legible upon their
+countenances. A man of about fifty years of age walked to and fro, a
+newspaper in his hand, and to him, when he passed near them, the actors
+bowed—respectfully and hopefully. A quick glance was his acknowledgment
+of their salutation, and then his eyes reverted to his paper, as if it
+deeply interested him. When he was out of hearing, the actors, who had
+assumed their most picturesque attitudes to attract his attention, and
+who beheld their labour lost, vented their ill-humour.
+
+“Balthasar is mighty proud,” said one; “he has not a word to say to us.”
+
+“Perhaps he does not want anybody,” remarked another; “I think he has no
+theatre this year.”
+
+“That would be odd. They say he is a clever manager.”
+
+“He may best prove his cleverness by keeping aloof. It is so difficult
+nowadays to do good in the provinces. The public is so fastidious! the
+authorities are so shabby, so unwilling to put their hands in their
+pockets. Ah, my dear fellow, our art is sadly fallen!”
+
+Whilst the discontented actors bemoaned themselves, Balthasar eagerly
+accosted a young man who just then entered the garden by the passage of
+the Perron. The coffeehouse-keepers had already begun to put out tables
+under the tender foliage. The two men sat down at one of them.
+
+“Well, Florival,” said the manager, “does my offer suit you? Will you
+make one of us? I was glad to hear you had broken off with Ricardin.
+With your qualifications you ought to have an engagement in Paris, or at
+least at a first-rate provincial theatre. But you are young, and, as you
+know, managers prefer actors of greater experience and established
+reputation. Your parts are generally taken by youths of five-and-forty,
+with wrinkles and grey hairs, but well versed in the traditions of the
+stage—with damaged voices but an excellent style. My brother managers
+are greedy of great names; yours still has to become known—as yet, you
+have but your talent to recommend you. I will content myself with that;
+content yourself with what I offer you. Times are bad, the season is
+advanced, engagements are hard to find. Many of your comrades have gone
+to try their luck beyond seas. We have not so far to go; we shall
+scarcely overstep the boundary of our ungrateful country. Germany
+invites us; it is a pleasant land, and Rhine wine is not to be
+disdained. I will tell you how the thing came about. For many years past
+I have managed theatres in the eastern departments, in Alsatia and
+Lorraine. Last summer, having a little leisure, I made an excursion to
+Baden-Baden. As usual, it was crowded with fashionables. One rubbed
+shoulders with princes and trod upon highnesses’ toes; one could not
+walk twenty yards without meeting a sovereign. All these crowned heads,
+kings, grand dukes, electors, mingled easily and affably with the throng
+of visitors. Etiquette is banished from the baths of Baden, where,
+without laying aside their titles, great personages enjoy the liberty
+and advantages of an incognito. At the time of my visit, a company of
+very indifferent German actors were playing, two or three times a-week,
+in the little theatre. They played to empty benches, and must have
+starved but for the assistance afforded them by the directors of the
+gambling-tables. I often went to their performances, and, amongst the
+scanty spectators, I soon remarked one who was as assiduous as myself. A
+gentleman, very plainly dressed, but of agreeable countenance and
+aristocratic appearance, invariably occupied the same stall, and seemed
+to enjoy the performance, which proved that he was easily pleased. One
+night he addressed to me some remark with respect to the play then
+acting; we got into conversation on the subject of dramatic art; he saw
+that I was specially competent on that topic, and after the theatre he
+asked me to take refreshment with him. I accepted. At midnight we
+parted, and, as I was going home, I met a gambler whom I slightly knew.
+‘I congratulate you,’ he said; ‘you have friends in high places!’ He
+alluded to the gentleman with whom I had passed the evening, and whom I
+now learned was no less a personage than his Serene Highness Prince
+Leopold, sovereign ruler of the Grand Duchy of Niesenstein. I had had
+the honour of passing a whole evening in familiar intercourse with a
+crowned head. Next day, walking in the park, I met his Highness. I made
+a low bow and kept at a respectful distance, but the Grand Duke came up
+to me and asked me to walk with him. Before accepting, I thought it
+right to inform him who I was. ‘I guessed as much,’ said the Prince.
+‘From one or two things that last night escaped you, I made no doubt you
+were a theatrical manager.’ And by a gesture he renewed his invitation
+to accompany him. In a long conversation he informed me of his intention
+to establish a French theatre in his capital, for the performance of
+comedy, drama, vaudeville, and comic operas. He was then building a
+large theatre, which would be ready by the end of the winter, and he
+offered me its management on very advantageous terms. I had no plans in
+France for the present year, and the offer was too good to be refused.
+The Grand Duke guaranteed my expenses and a gratuity, and there was a
+chance of very large profits. I hesitated not a moment; we exchanged
+promises, and the affair was concluded.
+
+“According to our agreement, I am to be at Karlstadt, the capital of the
+Grand Duchy of Niesenstein, in the first week in May. There is no time
+to lose. My company is almost complete, but there are still some
+important gaps to fill. Amongst others, I want a lover, a light
+comedian, and a first singer. I reckon upon you to fill these important
+posts.”
+
+“I am quite willing,” replied the actor, “but there is still an
+obstacle. You must know, my dear Balthasar, that I am deeply in
+love—seriously, this time—and I broke off with Ricardin solely because
+he would not engage her to whom I am attached.”
+
+“Oho! she is an actress?”
+
+“Two years upon the stage; a lovely girl, full of grace and talent, and
+with a charming voice. The Opera Comique has not a singer to compare
+with her.”
+
+“And she is disengaged?”
+
+“Yes, my dear fellow; strange though it seems, and by a combination of
+circumstances which it were tedious to detail, the fascinating Delia is
+still without an engagement. And I give you notice that henceforward I
+attach myself to her steps: where she goes, I go; I will perform upon no
+boards which she does not tread. I am determined to win her heart, and
+make her my wife.”
+
+“Very good!” cried Balthasar, rising from his seat; “tell me the address
+of this prodigy: I run, I fly, I make every sacrifice; and we will start
+to-morrow.”
+
+People were quite right in saying that Balthasar was a clever manager.
+None better knew how to deal with actors, often capricious and difficult
+to guide. He possessed skill, taste, and tact. One hour after the
+conversation in the garden of the Palais Royal, he had obtained the
+signatures of Delia and Florival, two excellent acquisitions, destined
+to do him infinite honour in Germany. That night his little company was
+complete, and the next day, after a good dinner, it started for
+Strasburg. It was composed as follows:
+
+Balthasar, manager, was to play the old men, and take the heavy
+business.
+
+Florival was the leading man, the lover, and the first singer.
+
+Rigolet was the low comedian, and took the parts usually played by Arnal
+and Bouffé.
+
+Similor was to perform the valets in Molière’s comedies, and eccentric
+low comedy characters.
+
+Anselmo was the walking gentleman.
+
+Lebel led the band.
+
+Miss Delia was to display her charms and talents as prima donna, and in
+genteel comedy.
+
+Miss Foligny was the singing chambermaid.
+
+Miss Alice was the walking lady, and made herself generally useful.
+
+Finally, Madame Pastorale, the duenna of the company, was to perform the
+old women, and look after the young ones.
+
+Although so few, the company trusted to atone by zeal and industry for
+numerical deficiency. It would be easy to find, in the capital of the
+Grand Duchy, persons capable of filling mute parts, and, in most plays,
+a few unimportant characters might be suppressed.
+
+The travellers reached Strasburg without adventure worthy of note. There
+Balthasar allowed them six-and-thirty hours’ repose, and took advantage
+of the halt to write to the Grand Duke Leopold, and inform him of his
+approaching arrival; then they again started, crossed the Rhine at Kehl,
+and in thirty days, after traversing several small German states,
+reached the frontier of the Grand Duchy of Niesenstein, and stopped at a
+little village called Krusthal. From this village to the capital the
+distance was only four leagues, but means of conveyance were wanting.
+There was but a single stage-coach on that line of road; it would not
+leave Krusthal for two days, and it held but six persons. No other
+vehicles were to be had; it was necessary to wait, and the necessity was
+anything but pleasant. The actors made wry faces at the prospect of
+passing forty-eight hours in a wretched village. The only persons who
+easily made up their minds to the wearisome delay were Delia and
+Florival. The first singer was desperately in love, and the prima donna
+was not insensible to his delicate attentions and tender discourse.
+
+Balthasar, the most impatient and persevering of all, went out to
+explore the village. In an hour’s time he returned in triumph to his
+friends, in a light cart drawn by a strong horse. Unfortunately the cart
+held but two persons.
+
+“I will set out alone,” said Balthasar. “On reaching Karlstadt, I will
+go to the Grand Duke, explain our position, and I have no doubt he will
+immediately send carriages to convey you to his capital.”
+
+These consolatory words were received with loud cheers by the actors.
+The driver, a peasant lad, cracked his whip, and the stout Mecklenburg
+horse set out at a small trot. Upon the way, Balthasar questioned his
+guide as to the extent, resources, and prosperity of the Grand Duchy,
+but could obtain no satisfactory reply: the young peasant was profoundly
+ignorant upon all these subjects. The four leagues were got over in
+something less than three hours, which is rather rapid travelling for
+Germany. It was nearly dark when Balthasar entered Karlstadt. The shops
+were shut, and there were few persons in the streets: people are early
+in their habits in the happy lands on the Rhine’s right bank. Presently
+the cart stopped before a good-sized house.
+
+“You told me to take you to our prince’s palace,” said the driver, “and
+here it is.” Balthasar alighted and entered the dwelling, unchallenged
+and unimpeded by the sentry who passed lazily up and down in its front.
+In the entrance hall the manager met a porter, who bowed gravely to him
+as he passed; he walked on and passed through an empty anteroom. In the
+first apartment, appropriated to gentlemen-in-waiting, aides-de-camp,
+equerries, and other dignitaries of various degree, he found nobody; in
+a second saloon, lighted by a dim and smoky lamp, was an old gentleman,
+dressed in black, with powdered hair, who rose slowly at his entrance,
+looked at him with surprise, and inquired his pleasure.
+
+“I wish to see his Serene Highness, the Grand Duke Leopold,” replied
+Balthasar.
+
+“The prince does not grant audiences at this hour,” the old gentleman
+drily answered.
+
+“His Highness expects me,” was the confident reply of Balthasar.
+
+“That is another thing. I will inquire if it be his Highness’s pleasure
+to receive you. Whom shall I announce?”
+
+“The manager of the Court theatre.”
+
+The gentleman bowed, and left Balthasar alone. The pertinacious manager
+already began to doubt the success of his audacity, when he heard the
+Grand Duke’s voice, saying, “Show him in.”
+
+He entered. The sovereign of Niesenstein was alone, seated in a large
+arm-chair, at a table covered with a green cloth, upon which were a
+confused medley of letters and newspapers, an inkstand, a tobacco-bag,
+two wax-lights, a sugar-basin, a sword, a plate, gloves, a bottle,
+books, and a goblet of Bohemian glass, artistically engraved. His
+Highness was engrossed in a thoroughly national occupation; he was
+smoking one of those long pipes which Germans rarely lay aside except to
+eat or to sleep.
+
+The manager of the Court theatre bowed thrice, as if he had been
+advancing to the foot-lights to address the public; then he stood still
+and silent, awaiting the prince’s pleasure. But, although he said
+nothing, his countenance was so expressive that the Grand Duke answered
+him.
+
+“Yes,” he said, “here you are. I recollect you perfectly, and I have not
+forgotten our agreement. But you come at a very unfortunate moment, my
+dear sir!”
+
+“I crave your Highness’s pardon if I have chosen an improper hour to
+seek an audience,” replied Balthasar with another bow.
+
+“It is not the hour that I am thinking of,” answered the prince quickly.
+“Would that were all! See, here is your letter; I was just now reading
+it, and regretting that, instead of writing to me only three days ago,
+when you were half-way here, you had not done so two or three weeks
+before starting.”
+
+“I did wrong.”
+
+“More so than you think, for, had you sooner warned me, I would have
+spared you a useless journey.”
+
+“Useless!” exclaimed Balthasar aghast. “Has your Highness changed your
+mind?”
+
+“Not at all; I am still passionately fond of the drama, and should be
+delighted to have a French theatre here. As far as that goes, my ideas
+and tastes are in no way altered since last summer; but, unfortunately,
+I am unable to satisfy them. Look here,” continued the prince, rising
+from his arm-chair. He took Balthasar’s arm and led him to a window: “I
+told you, last year, that I was building a magnificent theatre in my
+capital.”
+
+“Your Highness did tell me so.”
+
+“Well, look yonder, on the other side of the square; there the theatre
+is!”
+
+“Your Highness, I see nothing but an open space; a building commenced,
+and as yet scarcely risen above the foundation.”
+
+“Precisely so; that is the theatre.”
+
+“Your Highness told me it would be completed before the end of winter.”
+
+“I did not then foresee that I should have to stop the works for want of
+cash to pay the workmen. Such is my present position. If I have no
+theatre ready to receive you, and if I cannot take you and your company
+into my pay, it is because I have not the means. The coffers of the
+State and my privy purse are alike empty. You are astounded!—Adversity
+respects nobody—not even Grand Dukes. But I support its assaults with
+philosophy: try to follow my example; and, by way of a beginning, take a
+chair and a pipe, fill yourself a glass of wine, and drink to the return
+of my prosperity. Since you suffer for my misfortunes, I owe you an
+explanation. Although I never had much order in my expenditure, I had
+every reason, at the time I first met with you, to believe my finances
+in a flourishing condition. It was not until the commencement of the
+present year that I discovered the contrary to be the case. Last year
+was a bad one; hail ruined our crops and money was hard to get in. The
+salaries of my household were in arrear, and my officers murmured. For
+the first time I ordered a statement of my affairs to be laid before me,
+and I found that ever since my accession I had been exceeding my
+revenue. My first act of sovereignty had been a considerable diminution
+of the taxes paid to my predecessors. Hence the evil, which had annually
+augmented, and now I am ruined, loaded with debts, and without means of
+repairing the disaster. My privy-councillors certainly proposed a way;
+it was to double the taxes, raise extraordinary contributions—to squeeze
+my subjects, in short. A fine plan, indeed! to make the poor pay for my
+improvidence and disorder! Such things may occur in other States, but
+they shall not occur in mine. Justice before everything. I prefer
+enduring my difficulties to making my subjects suffer.”
+
+“Excellent prince!” exclaimed Balthasar, touched by these generous
+sentiments. The Grand Duke smiled.
+
+“Do you turn flatterer?” he said. “Beware! it is an arduous post, and
+you will have none to help you. I have no longer wherewith to pay
+flatterers; my courtiers have fled. You have seen the emptiness of my
+anterooms; you met neither chamberlain nor equerry upon your entrance.
+All those gentlemen have given in their resignations. The civil and
+military officers of my house, secretaries, aides-de-camp, and others,
+left me, because I could no longer pay them their wages. I am alone; a
+few faithful and patient servants are all that remain, and the most
+important personage of my court is now honest Sigismund, my old
+valet-de-chambre.”
+
+These last words were spoken in a melancholy tone, which pained
+Balthasar. The eyes of the honest manager glistened. The Grand Duke
+detected his sympathy.
+
+“Do not pity me,” he said with a smile. “It is no sorrow to me to have
+got rid of a wearisome etiquette, and, at the same time, of a pack of
+spies and hypocrites, by whom I was formerly from morning till night
+beset.”
+
+The cheerful frankness of the Grand Duke’s manner forbade doubt of his
+sincerity. Balthasar congratulated him on his courage.
+
+“I need it more than you think!” replied Leopold, “and I cannot answer
+for having enough to support the blows that threaten me. The desertion
+of my courtiers would be nothing, did I owe it only to the bad state of
+my finances: as soon as I found myself in funds again I could buy others
+or take back the old ones, and amuse myself by putting my foot upon
+their servile necks. Then they would be as humble as now they are
+insolent. But their defection is an omen of other dangers. As the
+diplomatists say clouds are at the political horizon. Poverty alone
+would not have sufficed to clear my palace of men who are as greedy of
+honours as they are of money; they would have waited for better days;
+their vanity would have consoled their avarice. If they fled, it was
+because they felt the ground shake beneath their feet, and because they
+are in league with my enemies. I cannot shut my eyes to impending
+dangers. I am on bad terms with Austria; Metternich looks askance at me;
+at Vienna I am considered too liberal, too popular: they say that I set
+a bad example; they reproach me with cheap government, and with not
+making my subjects sufficiently feel the yoke. Thus do they accumulate
+pretexts for playing me a scurvy trick. One of my cousins, a colonel in
+the Austrian service, covets my Grand Duchy. Although I say _grand_, it
+is but ten leagues long and eight leagues broad; but, such as it is, it
+suits me; I am accustomed to it, I have the habit of ruling it, and I
+should miss it were I deprived of it. My cousin has the audacity to
+dispute my incontestible rights; this is a mere pretext for litigation,
+but he has carried the case before the Aulic Council, and
+notwithstanding the excellence of my right I still may lose my cause,
+for I have no money wherewith to enlighten my judges. My enemies are
+powerful, treason surrounds me; they try to take advantage of my
+financial embarrassments, first to make me bankrupt and then to depose
+me. In this critical conjuncture, I should be only too delighted to have
+a company of players to divert my thoughts from my troubles—but I have
+neither theatre nor money. So it is impossible for me to keep you, my
+dear manager, and, believe me, I am as grieved at it as you can be. All
+I can do is to give you, out of the little I have left, a small
+indemnity to cover your travelling expenses and take you back to France.
+Come and see me to-morrow morning; we will settle this matter, and you
+shall take your leave.”
+
+Balthasar’s attention and sympathy had been so completely engrossed by
+the Grand Duke’s misfortunes, and by his revelations of his political
+and financial difficulties, that his own troubles had quite gone out of
+his thoughts. When he quitted the palace they came back upon him like a
+thunder-cloud. How was he to satisfy the actors, whom he had brought two
+hundred leagues away from Paris? What could he say to them, how appease
+them? The unhappy manager passed a miserable night. At daybreak he rose
+and went out into the open air, to calm his agitation and seek a mode of
+extrication from his difficulties. During a two hours’ walk he had
+abundant time to visit every corner of Karlstadt, and to admire the
+beauties of that celebrated capital. He found it an elegant town, with
+wide straight streets cutting completely across it, so that he could see
+through it at a glance. The houses were pretty and uniform, and the
+windows were provided with small indiscreet mirrors, which reflected the
+passers-by and transported the street into the drawing-room, so that the
+worthy Karlstadters could satisfy their curiosity without quitting their
+easy chairs. An innocent recreation, much affected by German burghers.
+As regarded trade and manufactures, the capital of the Grand Duchy of
+Niesenstein did not seem to be very much occupied with either. It was
+anything but a bustling city; luxury had made but little progress there;
+and its prosperity was due chiefly to the moderate desires and
+phlegmatic philosophy of its inhabitants.
+
+In such a country a company of actors had no chance of a livelihood.
+There is nothing for it but to return to France, thought Balthasar,
+after making the circuit of the city: then he looked at his watch, and,
+deeming the hour suitable, he took the road to the palace, which he
+entered with as little ceremony as upon the preceding evening. The
+faithful Sigismund, doing duty as gentleman-in-waiting, received him as
+an old acquaintance, and forthwith ushered him into the Grand Duke’s
+presence. His Highness seemed more depressed than upon the previous day.
+He was pacing the room with long strides, his eyes cast down, his arms
+folded. In his hand he held papers, whose perusal it apparently was that
+had thus discomposed him. For some moments he said nothing; then he
+suddenly stopped before Balthasar.
+
+“You find me less calm,” he said, “than I was last night. I have just
+received unpleasant news. I am heartily sick of these perpetual
+vexations, and gladly would I resign this poor sovereignty, this crown
+of thorns they seek to snatch from me, did not honour command me to
+maintain to the last my legitimate rights. Yes,” vehemently exclaimed
+the Grand Duke, “at this moment a tranquil existence is all I covet, and
+I would willingly give up my Grand Duchy, my title, my crown, to live
+quietly at Paris, as a private gentleman, upon thirty thousand francs
+a-year.”
+
+“I believe so, indeed!” cried Balthasar, who, in his wildest dreams of
+fortune, had never dared aspire so high. His artless exclamation made
+the prince smile. It needed but a trifle to dissipate his vexation, and
+to restore that upper current of easy good temper which habitually
+floated upon the surface of his character.
+
+“You think,” he gaily cried, “that some, in my place, would be satisfied
+with less, and that thirty thousand francs a-year, with independence and
+the pleasures of Paris, compose a lot more enviable than the government
+of all the Grand Duchies in the world. My own experience tells me that
+you are right; for, ten years ago, when I was but hereditary prince, I
+passed six months at Paris, rich, independent, careless; and memory
+declares those to have been the happiest days of my life.”
+
+“Well! if you were to sell all you have, could you not realise that
+fortune? Besides, the cousin, of whom you did me the honour to speak to
+me yesterday, would probably gladly insure you an income if you yielded
+him your place here. But will your Highness permit me to speak plainly?”
+
+“By all means.”
+
+“The tranquil existence of a private gentleman would doubtless have many
+charms for you, and you say so in all sincerity of heart; but, upon the
+other hand, you set store by your crown, though you may not admit it to
+yourself. In a moment of annoyance it is easy to exaggerate the charms
+of tranquillity, and the pleasures of private life; but a throne,
+however rickety, is a seat which none willingly quit. That is my
+opinion, formed at the dramatic school: it is perhaps a reminiscence of
+some old part, but truth is sometimes found upon the stage. Since,
+therefore, all things considered, to stay where you are is that which
+best becomes you, you ought——But I crave your Highness’s pardon, I am
+perhaps speaking too freely——
+
+“Speak on, my dear manager, freely and fearlessly; I listen to you with
+pleasure. I ought—you were about to say?——”
+
+“Instead of abandoning yourself to despair and poetry, instead of
+contenting yourself with succumbing nobly, like some ancient Roman, you
+ought boldly to combat the peril. Circumstances are favourable; you have
+neither ministers nor state-councillors to mislead you, and embarrass
+your plans. Strong in your good right, and in your subjects’ love, it is
+impossible you should not find means of retrieving your finances and
+strengthening your position.”
+
+“There is but one means, and that is—a good marriage.”
+
+“Excellent! I had not thought of it. You are a bachelor! A good marriage
+is salvation. It is thus that great houses, menaced with ruin, regain
+their former splendour. You must marry an heiress, the only daughter of
+some rich banker.”
+
+“You forget—it would be derogatory. _I_ am free from such prejudices,
+but what would Austria say if I thus condescended? It would be another
+charge to bring against me. And then a banker’s millions would not
+suffice; I must ally myself with a powerful family, whose influence will
+strengthen mine. Only a few days ago, I thought such an alliance within
+my grasp. A neighbouring prince, Maximilian of Hanau, who is in high
+favour at Vienna, has a sister to marry. The Princess Wilhelmina is
+young, handsome, amiable, and rich; I have already entered upon the
+preliminaries of a matrimonial negotiation, but two despatches, received
+this morning, destroy all my hopes. Hence the low spirits in which you
+find me.”
+
+“Perhaps,” said Balthasar, “your Highness too easily gives way to
+discouragement.”
+
+“Judge for yourself. I have a rival, the Elector of Saxe-Tolpelhausen;
+his territories are less considerable than mine, but he is more solidly
+established in his little electorate than I am in my grand duchy.”
+
+“Pardon me, your Highness; I saw the Elector of Saxe-Tolpelhausen last
+year at Baden-Baden, and, without flattery, he cannot for an instant be
+compared with your Highness. You are hardly thirty, and he is more than
+forty; you have a good figure, he is heavy, clumsy, and ill-made; your
+countenance is noble and agreeable, his common and displeasing; your
+hair is light brown, his bright red. The Princess Wilhelmina is sure to
+prefer you.”
+
+“Perhaps so, if she were asked; but she is in the power of her august
+brother, who will marry her to whom he pleases.”
+
+“That must be prevented.”
+
+“How?”
+
+“By winning the young lady’s affections. Love has so many resources.
+Every day one sees marriages for money broken off, and replaced by
+marriages for love.”
+
+“Yes, one sees that in plays——”
+
+“Which afford excellent lessons.”
+
+“For people of a certain class, but not for princes.”
+
+“Why not make the attempt? If I dared advise you, it would be to set out
+to-morrow, and pay a visit to the Prince of Hanau.”
+
+“Unnecessary. To see the prince and his sister, I need not stir hence.
+One of these despatches announces their early arrival at Karlstadt. They
+are on their way hither. On their return from a journey into Prussia,
+they pass through my territories and pause in my capital, inviting
+themselves as my guests for two or three days. Their visit is my ruin.
+What will they think of me when they find me alone, deserted, in my
+empty palace? Do you suppose the Princess will be tempted to share my
+dismal solitude? Last year she went to Saxe-Tolpelhausen. The Elector
+entertained her well, and made his court agreeable. _He_ could place
+chamberlains and aides-de-camp at her orders, could give concerts,
+balls, and festivals. But I—what can _I_ do? What a humiliation! And,
+that no affront may be spared to me, my rival proposes negotiating his
+marriage at my own court! Nothing less, it seems, will satisfy him! He
+has just sent me an ambassador, Baron Pippinstir, deputed, he writes, to
+conclude a commercial treaty which will be extremely advantageous to me.
+The treaty is but a pretext. The Baron’s true mission is to the Prince
+of Hanau. The meeting is skilfully contrived, for the secret and
+unostentatious conclusion of the matrimonial treaty. This is what I am
+condemned to witness! I must endure this outrage and mortification, and
+display, before the prince and his sister, my misery and poverty. I
+would do anything to avoid such shame!”
+
+“Means might, perhaps, be found,” said Balthasar, after a moment’s
+reflection.
+
+“Means? Speak, and whatever they be, I adopt them.”
+
+“The plan is a bold one!” continued Balthasar, speaking half to the
+Grand Duke and half to himself, as if pondering and weighing a project.
+
+“No matter! I will risk everything.”
+
+“You would like to conceal your real position, to re-people this palace,
+to have a court?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Do you think the courtiers who have deserted you would return?”
+
+“Never. Did I not tell you they are sold to my enemies.”
+
+“Could you not select others from the higher class of your subjects?”
+
+“Impossible! There are very few gentlemen amongst my subjects. Ah! if a
+court could be got up at a day’s notice! though it were to be composed
+of the humblest citizens of Karlstadt——”
+
+“I have better than that to offer you.”
+
+“_You_ have? And whom do you offer?” cried Duke Leopold, greatly
+astonished.
+
+“My actors.”
+
+“What! you would have me make up a court of your actors?”
+
+“Yes, your Highness, and you could not do better. Observe that my actors
+are accustomed to play all manner of parts, and that they will be
+perfectly at their ease when performing those of noblemen and high
+officials. I answer for their talent, discretion, and probity. As soon
+as your illustrious guests have departed, and you no longer need their
+services, they shall resign their posts. Bear in mind that you have no
+other alternative. Time is short, danger at your door, hesitation is
+destruction.”
+
+“But, if such a trick were discovered!——”
+
+“A mere supposition, a chimerical fear. On the other hand, if you do not
+run the risk I propose, your ruin is certain.”
+
+The Grand Duke was easily persuaded. Careless and easy-going, he yet was
+not wanting in determination, nor in a certain love of hazardous
+enterprises. He remembered that fortune is said to favour the bold, and
+his desperate position increased his courage. With joyful intrepidity he
+accepted and adopted Balthasar’s scheme.
+
+“Bravo!” cried the manager; “you shall have no cause to repent. You
+behold in me a sample of your future courtiers; and since honours and
+dignities are to be distributed, it is with me, if you please, that we
+will begin. In this request I act up to the spirit of my part. A
+courtier should always be asking for something, should lose no
+opportunity, and should profit by his rivals’ absence to obtain the best
+place. I entreat your Highness to have the goodness to name me prime
+minister.”
+
+“Granted!” gaily replied the prince. “Your Excellency may immediately
+enter upon your functions.”
+
+“My Excellency will not fail to do so, and begins by requesting your
+signature to a few decrees I am about to draw up. But in the first
+place, your Highness must be so good as to answer two or three
+questions, that I may understand the position of affairs. A new-comer in
+a country, and a novice in a minister’s office, has need of instruction.
+If it became necessary to enforce your commands, have you the means of
+so doing?”
+
+“Undoubtedly.”
+
+“Your Highness has soldiers?”
+
+“A regiment.”
+
+“How many men?”
+
+“One hundred and twenty, besides the musicians.”
+
+“Are they obedient, devoted?”
+
+“Passive obedience, unbounded devotion; soldiers and officers would die
+for me to the last man.”
+
+“It is their duty. Another question: Have you a prison in your
+dominions?”
+
+“Certainly.”
+
+“I mean a good prison, strong and well-guarded, with thick walls, solid
+bars, stern and incorruptible jailors?”
+
+“I have every reason to believe that the Castle of Zwingenberg combines
+all those requisites. The fact is, I have made very little use of it;
+but it was built by a man who understood such matters—by my father’s
+great-grandfather, Rudolph the Inflexible.”
+
+“A fine surname for a sovereign! Your Inflexible ancestor, I am very
+sure, never lacked either cash or courtiers. Your Highness has perhaps
+done wrong to leave the state-prison untenanted. A prison requires to be
+inhabited, like any other building; and the first act of the authority
+with which you have been pleased to invest me, will be a salutary
+measure of incarceration. I presume the Castle of Zwingenberg will
+accommodate a score of prisoners?”
+
+“What! you are going to imprison twenty persons?”
+
+“More or less. I do not yet know the exact number of the persons who
+composed your late court. They it is whom I propose lodging within the
+lofty walls constructed by the Inflexible Rudolph. The measure is
+indispensable.”
+
+“But it is illegal!”
+
+“I crave your Highness’s pardon; you use a word I do not understand. It
+seems to me that, in every good German government, that which is
+absolutely necessary is necessarily legal. That is my policy. Moreover,
+as prime minister, I am responsible. What would you have more? It is
+plain that, if we leave your courtiers their liberty, it will be
+impossible to perform our comedy; they will betray us. Therefore the
+welfare of the state imperatively demands their imprisonment. Besides,
+you yourself have said that they are traitors, and therefore they
+deserve punishment. For your own safety’s sake, for the success of your
+project—which will insure the happiness of your subjects—write the
+names, sign the order, and inflict upon the deserters the lenient
+chastisement of a week’s captivity.”
+
+The Grand Duke wrote the names and signed several orders, which were
+forthwith intrusted to the most active and determined officers of the
+regiment, with instructions to make the arrests at once, and to take
+their prisoners to the Castle of Zwingenberg, at three quarters of a
+league from Karlstadt.
+
+“All that now remains to be done is to send for your new court,” said
+Balthasar. “Has your Highness carriages?”
+
+“Certainly! a berlin, a barouche, and a cabriolet.”
+
+“And horses?”
+
+“Six draught and two saddle.”
+
+“I take the barouche, the berlin, and four horses; I go to Krusthal, put
+my actors up to their parts, and bring them here this evening. We instal
+ourselves in the palace, and shall be at once at your Highness’s
+orders.”
+
+“Very good; but, before going, write an answer to Baron Pippinstir, who
+asks an audience.”
+
+“Two lines, very dry and official, putting him off till to-morrow. We
+must be under arms to receive him.... Here is the note written, but how
+shall I sign it? The name of Balthasar is not very suitable to a German
+Excellency.”
+
+“True, you must have another name, and a title; I create you Count
+Lipandorf.”
+
+“Thanks, your Highness. I will bear the title nobly, and restore it to
+you faithfully, with my seals of office, when the comedy is played out.”
+
+Count Lipandorf signed the letter, which Sigismund was ordered to take
+to Baron Pippinstir; then he started for Krusthal.
+
+Next morning, the Grand Duke Leopold held a levee, which was attended by
+all the officers of his new court. And as soon as he was dressed he
+received the ladies, with infinite grace and affability.
+
+Ladies and officers were attired in their most elegant theatrical
+costumes; the Grand Duke appeared greatly satisfied with their bearing
+and manners. The first compliments over, there came a general
+distribution of titles and offices.
+
+The lover, Florival, was appointed aide-de-camp to the Grand Duke,
+colonel of hussars, and Count Reinsberg.
+
+Rigolet, the low comedian, was named grand chamberlain, and Baron
+Fidibus.
+
+Similor, who performed the valets, was master of the horse and Baron
+Kockemburg.
+
+Anselmo, walking gentleman, was promoted to be gentleman-in-waiting and
+Chevalier Grillenfanger.
+
+The leader of the band, Lebel, was appointed superintendant of the music
+and amusements of the court, with the title of Chevalier Arpeggio.
+
+The prima donna, Miss Delia, was created Countess of Rosenthal, an
+interesting orphan, whose dowry was to be the hereditary office of first
+lady of honour to the future Grand Duchess.
+
+Miss Foligny, the singing chambermaid, was appointed widow of a general
+and Baroness Allenzau.
+
+Miss Alice, walking lady, became Miss Fidibus, daughter of the
+chamberlain, and a rich heiress.
+
+Finally, the duenna, Madame Pastorale, was called to the responsible
+station of mistress of the robes and governess of the maids of honour,
+under the imposing title of Baroness Schicklick.
+
+The new dignitaries received decorations in proportion to their rank.
+Count Balthasar von Lipandorf, prime minister, had two stars and three
+grand crosses. The aide-de-camp, Florival von Reinsberg, fastened five
+crosses upon the breast of his hussar jacket.
+
+The parts duly distributed and learned, there was a rehearsal, which
+went off excellently well. The Grand Duke deigned to superintend the
+getting up of the piece, and to give the actors a few useful hints.
+
+Prince Maximilian of Hanau and his august sister were expected that
+evening. Time was precious. Pending their arrival, and by way of
+practising his court, the Grand Duke gave audience to the ambassador
+from Saxe-Tolpelhausen.
+
+Baron Pippinstir was ushered into the Hall of the Throne. He had asked
+permission to present his wife at the same time as his credentials, and
+that favour had been granted him.
+
+At sight of the diplomatist, the new courtiers, as yet unaccustomed to
+rigid decorum, had difficulty in keeping their countenances. The Baron
+was a man of fifty, prodigiously tall, singularly thin, abundantly
+powdered, with legs like hop-poles, clad in knee breeches and white silk
+stockings. A long slender pigtail danced upon his flexible back. He had
+a face like a bird of prey—little round eyes, a receding chin, and an
+enormous hooked nose. It was scarcely possible to look at him without
+laughing, especially when one saw him for the first time. His
+apple-green coat glittered with a profusion of embroidery. His chest
+being too narrow to admit of a horizontal development of his
+decorations, he wore them in two columns, extending from his collar to
+his waist. When he approached the Grand Duke, with a self-satisfied
+simper and a jaunty air, his sword by his side, his cocked hat under his
+arm, nothing was wanting to complete the caricature.
+
+The Baroness Pippinstir was a total contrast to her husband. She was a
+pretty little woman of five-and-twenty, as plump as a partridge, with a
+lively eye, a nice figure, and an engaging smile. There was mischief in
+her glance, seduction in her dimples and the rose’s tint upon her
+cheeks. Her dress was the only ridiculous thing about her. To come to
+court, the little Baroness had put on all the finery she could muster;
+she sailed into the hall under a cloud of ribbons, sparkling with jewels
+and fluttering with plumes—the loftiest of which, however, scarcely
+reached to the shoulder of her lanky spouse.
+
+Completely identifying himself with his part of prime minister,
+Balthasar, as soon as this oddly-assorted pair appeared, decided upon
+his plan of campaign. His natural penetration told him the diplomatist’s
+weak point. He felt that the Baron, who was old and ugly, must be
+jealous of his wife, who was young and pretty. He was not mistaken.
+Pippinstir was as jealous as a tiger-cat. Recently married, the meagre
+diplomatist had not dared to leave his wife at Saxe-Tolpelhausen, for
+fear of accidents; he would not lose sight of her, and had brought her
+to Karlstadt in the arrogant belief that danger vanished in his
+presence.
+
+After exchanging a few diplomatic phrases with the ambassador, Balthasar
+took Colonel Florival aside and gave him secret instructions. The
+dashing officer passed his hand through his richly-curling locks,
+adjusted his splendid pelisse, and approached Baroness Pippinstir. The
+ambassadress received him graciously; the handsome colonel had already
+attracted her attention, and soon she was delighted with his wit and
+gallant speeches. Florival did not lack imagination, and his memory was
+stored with well-turned phrases and sentimental tirades, borrowed from
+stage-plays. He spoke half from inspiration, half from memory, and he
+was listened to with favour.
+
+The conversation was carried on in French—for the best of reasons.
+
+“It is the custom here,” said the Grand Duke to the ambassador; “French
+is the only language spoken in this palace; it is a regulation I had
+some difficulty in enforcing, and I was at last obliged to decree that a
+heavy penalty should be paid for every German word spoken by a person
+attached to my court. That proved effectual, and you will not easily
+catch any of these ladies and gentlemen tripping. My prime minister,
+Count Balthasar von Lipandorf, is the only one who is permitted
+occasionally to speak his native language.”
+
+Balthasar, who had long managed theatres in Alsace and Lorraine, spoke
+German like a Frankfort brewer.
+
+Meanwhile, Baron Pippinstir’s uneasiness was extreme. Whilst his wife
+conversed in a low voice with the young and fascinating aide-de-camp,
+the pitiless prime minister held his arm tight, and explained at great
+length his views with respect to the famous commercial treaty. Caught in
+his own snare, the unlucky diplomatist was in agony; he fidgeted to get
+away, his countenance expressed grievous uneasiness, his lean legs were
+convulsively agitated. But in vain did he endeavour to abridge his
+torments; the remorseless Balthasar relinquished not his prey.
+
+Sigismund, promoted to be steward of the household, announced dinner.
+The ambassador and his lady had been invited to dine, as well as all the
+courtiers. The aide-de-camp was placed next to the Baroness, the Baron
+at the other end of the table. The torture was prolonged. Florival
+continued to whisper soft nonsense to the fair and well-pleased
+Pippinstir. The diplomatist could not eat.
+
+There was another person present whom Florival’s flirtation annoyed, and
+that person was Delia, Countess of Rosenthal. After dinner, Balthasar,
+whom nothing escaped, took her aside.
+
+“You know very well,” said the minister, “that he is only acting a part
+in a comedy. Should you feel hurt if he declared his love upon the
+stage, to one of your comrades? Here it is the same thing; all this is
+but a play; when the curtain falls, he will return to you.”
+
+A courier announced that the Prince of Hanau and his sister were within
+a league of Karlstadt. The Grand Duke, attended by Count Reinsberg and
+some officers, went to meet them. It was dark when the illustrious
+guests reached the palace; they passed through the great saloon, where
+the whole court was assembled to receive them, and retired at once to
+their apartments.
+
+“The game is fairly begun,” said the Grand Duke to his prime minister;
+“and now, may Heaven help us!”
+
+“Fear nothing,” replied Balthasar. “The glimpse I caught of Prince
+Maximilian’s physiognomy satisfied me that everything will pass off
+perfectly well, and without exciting the least suspicion. As to Baron
+Pippinstir, he is already blind with jealousy, and Florival will give
+him so much to do, that he will have no time to attend to his master’s
+business. Things look well.”
+
+Next morning, the Prince and Princess of Hanau were welcomed, on
+awakening, by a serenade from the regimental band. The weather was
+beautiful; the Grand Duke proposed an excursion out of town; he was glad
+of an opportunity to show his guests the best features of his duchy—a
+delightful country, and many picturesque points of view, much prized and
+sketched by German landscape-painters. The proposal agreed to, the party
+set out, in carriages and on horseback, for the old Castle of
+Rauberzell—magnificent ruins, dating from the middle ages, and famous
+far and wide. At a short distance from the castle, which lifted its grey
+turrets upon the summit of a wooded hill, the Princess Wilhelmina
+expressed a wish to walk the remainder of the way. Everybody followed
+her example. The Grand Duke offered her his arm; the Prince gave his to
+the Countess Delia von Rosenthal; and, at a sign from Balthasar,
+Baroness Pastorale von Schicklick took possession of Baron Pippinstir;
+whilst the smiling Baroness accepted Florival’s escort. The young people
+walked at a brisk pace. The unfortunate Baron would gladly have availed
+of his long legs to keep up with his coquettish wife; but the duenna,
+portly and ponderous, hung upon his arm, checked his ardour, and
+detained him in the rear. Respect for the mistress of the robes forbade
+rebellion or complaint.
+
+Amidst the ruins of the venerable castle, the distinguished party found
+a table spread with an elegant collation. It was an agreeable surprise,
+and the Grand Duke had all the credit of an idea suggested to him by his
+prime minister.
+
+The whole day was passed in rambling through the beautiful forest of
+Rauberzell. The Princess was charming; nothing could exceed the high
+breeding of the courtiers, or the fascination and elegance of the
+ladies; and Prince Maximilian warmly congratulated the Grand Duke on
+having a court composed of such agreeable and accomplished persons.
+Baroness Pippinstir declared, in a moment of enthusiasm, that the court
+of Saxe-Tolpelhausen was not to compare with that of Niesenstein. She
+could hardly have said anything more completely at variance with the
+object of her husband’s mission. The Baron was near fainting.
+
+Like not a few of her countrywomen, the Princess Wilhelmina had a strong
+predilection for Parisian fashions. She admired everything that came
+from France; she spoke French perfectly, and greatly approved the Grand
+Duke’s decree, forbidding any other language to be spoken at his court.
+Moreover, there was nothing extraordinary in such a regulation; French
+is the language of all the northern courts. But she was greatly tickled
+at the notion of a fine being inflicted for a single German word. She
+amused herself by trying to catch some of the Grand Duke’s courtiers
+transgressing in this respect. Her labour was completely lost.
+
+That evening, at the palace, when conversation began to languish, the
+Chevalier Arpeggio sat down to the piano, and the Countess Delia von
+Rosenthal sang an air out of the last new opera. The guests were
+enchanted with her performance. Prince Maximilian had been extremely
+attentive to the Countess during their excursion; the young actress’s
+grace and beauty had captivated him, and the charm of her voice
+completed his subjugation. Passionately fond of music, every note she
+sang went to his very heart. When she had finished one song, he
+petitioned for another. The amiable prima donna sang a duet with the
+aide-de-camp Florival von Reinsberg, and then, being further entreated,
+a trio, in which Similor—master of the horse, barytone, and Baron von
+Kockemburg—took a part.
+
+Here our actors were at home, and their success was complete. Deviating
+from his usual reserve, Prince Maximilian did not disguise his delight;
+and the imprudent little Baroness Pippinstir declared that, with such a
+beautiful tenor voice, an aide-de-camp might aspire to anything. A
+cemetery on a wet day is a cheerful sight, compared to the Baron’s
+countenance when he heard these words.
+
+Upon the morrow, a hunting party was the order of the day. In the
+evening there was a dance. It had been proposed to invite the principal
+families of the metropolis of Niesenstein, but the Prince and Princess
+begged that the circle might not be increased.
+
+“We are four ladies,” said the Princess, glancing at the prima donna,
+the singing chambermaid, and the walking lady, “it is enough for a
+quadrille.”
+
+There was no lack of gentlemen. There was the Grand Duke, the
+aide-de-camp, the grand chamberlain, the master of the horse, the
+gentleman-in-waiting, and Prince Maximilian’s aide-de-camp, Count Darius
+von Sturmhaube, who appeared greatly smitten by the charms of the
+widowed Baroness Allenzau.
+
+“I am sorry my court is not more numerous,” said the Grand Duke, “but,
+within the last three days, I have been compelled to diminish it by one
+half.”
+
+“How so?” inquired Prince Maximilian.
+
+“A dozen courtiers,” replied the Grand Duke Leopold, “whom I had loaded
+with favours, dared conspire against me, in favour of a certain cousin
+of mine at Vienna. I discovered the plot, and the plotters are now in
+the dungeons of my good fortress of Zwingenberg.”
+
+“Well done!” cried the Prince; “I like such energy and vigour. And to
+think that people taxed you with weakness of character! How we princes
+are deceived and calumniated.”
+
+The Grand Duke cast a grateful glance at Balthasar. That able minister
+by this time felt himself as much at his ease in his new office as if he
+had held it all his life; he even began to suspect that the government
+of a grand duchy is a much easier matter than the management of a
+company of actors. Incessantly engrossed by his master’s interests, he
+manœuvred to bring about the marriage which was to give the Grand Duke
+happiness, wealth, and safety; but, notwithstanding his skill,
+notwithstanding the torments with which he had filled the jealous soul
+of Pippinstir, the ambassador devoted the scanty moments of repose his
+wife left him to furthering the object of his mission. The alliance with
+the Saxe-Tolpelhausen was pleasing to Prince Maximilian; it offered him
+various advantages: the extinction of an old lawsuit between the two
+states, the cession of a large extent of territory, and, finally, the
+commercial treaty, which the perfidious Baron had brought to the court
+of Niesenstein, with a view of concluding it in favour of the
+principality of Hanau. Invested with unlimited powers, the diplomatist
+was ready to insert in the contract almost any conditions Prince
+Maximilian chose to dictate to him.
+
+It is necessary here to remark that the Elector of Saxe-Tolpelhausen was
+desperately in love with the Princess Wilhelmina.
+
+It was evident that the Baron would carry the day, if the prime minister
+did not hit upon some scheme to destroy his credit or force him to
+retreat. Balthasar, fertile in expedients, was teaching Florival his
+part in the palace garden, when Prince Maximilian met him, and requested
+a moment’s private conversation.
+
+“I am at your Highness’s orders,” respectfully replied the minister.
+
+“I will go straight to the point, Count Lipandorf,” the Prince began. “I
+married my late wife, a princess of Hesse-Darmstadt, from political
+motives. She has left me three sons. I now intend to marry again; but
+this time I need not sacrifice myself to state considerations, and I am
+determined to consult my heart alone.”
+
+“If your Highness does me the honour to consult _me_, I have merely to
+say that you are perfectly justified in acting as you propose. After
+once sacrificing himself to his people’s happiness, a prince has surely
+a right to think a little of his own.”
+
+“Exactly my opinion! Count, I will tell you a secret. I am in love with
+Miss von Rosenthal.”
+
+“Miss Delia?”
+
+“Yes, sir; with Miss Delia, Countess of Rosenthal; and, what is more, I
+will tell you that _I know everything_.”
+
+“What may it be that your Highness knows?”
+
+“I know who she is.”
+
+“Ha!”
+
+“It was a great secret!”
+
+“And how came your Highness to discover it?”
+
+“The Grand Duke revealed it to me.”
+
+“I might have guessed as much!”
+
+“He alone could do so, and I rejoice that I addressed myself directly to
+him. At first, when I questioned him concerning the young Countess’s
+family, he ill concealed his embarrassment: her position struck me as
+strange; young, beautiful, and alone in the world, without relatives or
+guardians—all that seemed to me singular, if not suspicious. I trembled,
+as the possibility of an intrigue flashed upon me; but the Grand Duke,
+to dissipate my unfounded suspicion, told me all.”
+
+“And what is your Highness’s decision?... After such a revelation”—
+
+“It in no way changes my intentions. I shall marry the lady.”
+
+“Marry her?... But no; your Highness jests.”
+
+“Count Lipandorf, I never jest. What is there, then, so strange in my
+determination. The Grand Duke’s father was romantic, and of a roving
+disposition; in the course of his life he contracted several left-handed
+alliances—Miss von Rosenthal is the issue of one of those unions. I care
+not for the illegitimacy of her birth; she is of noble blood, of a
+princely race—that is all I require.”
+
+“Yes,” replied Balthasar, who had concealed his surprise and kept his
+countenance, as became an experienced statesman and consummate comedian.
+“Yes, I now understand; and I think as you do. Your Highness has the
+talent of bringing everybody over to your way of thinking.”
+
+“The greatest piece of good fortune,” continued the Prince, “is that the
+mother remained unknown: she is dead, and there is no trace of family on
+that side.”
+
+“As your Highness says, it is very fortunate. And doubtless the Grand
+Duke is informed of your august intentions with respect to the proposed
+marriage?”
+
+“No; I have as yet said nothing either to him or to the Countess. I
+reckon upon you, my dear Count, to make my offer, to whose acceptance I
+trust there will not be the slightest obstacle. I give you the rest of
+the day to arrange everything. I will write to Miss von Rosenthal; I
+hope to receive from her own lips the assurance of my happiness, and I
+will beg her to bring me her answer herself, this evening, in the
+summerhouse in the park. Lover-like, you see—a rendezvous, a mysterious
+interview! But come, Count Lipandorf, lose no time; a double tie shall
+bind me to your sovereign. We will sign, at one and the same time, my
+marriage-contract and his. On that condition alone will I grant him my
+sister’s hand; otherwise I treat, this very evening, with the envoy from
+Saxe-Tolpelhausen.”
+
+A quarter of an hour after Prince Maximilian had made this overture,
+Balthasar and Delia were closeted with the Grand Duke.
+
+What was to be done? The Prince of Hanau was noted for his obstinacy. He
+would have excellent reasons to oppose to all objections. To confess the
+deception that had been practised upon him was equivalent to a total and
+eternal rupture. But, upon the other hand, to leave him in his error, to
+suffer him to marry an actress! it was a serious matter. If ever he
+discovered the truth, it would be enough to raise the entire German
+Confederation against the Grand Duke of Niesenstein.
+
+“What is my prime minister’s opinion?” asked the Grand Duke.
+
+“A prompt retreat. Delia must instantly quit the town; we will devise an
+explanation of her sudden departure.”
+
+“Yes; and this evening Prince Maximilian will sign his sister’s
+marriage-contract with the Elector of Saxe-Tolpelhausen. My opinion is,
+that we have advanced too far to retreat. If the prince ever discovers
+the truth, he will be the person most interested to conceal it. Besides,
+Miss Delia is an orphan—she has neither parents nor family. I adopt
+her—I acknowledge her as my sister.”
+
+“Your Highness’s goodness and condescension——” lisped the pretty prima
+donna.
+
+“You agree with me, do you not, Miss Delia?” continued the Grand Duke.
+“You are resolved to seize the good fortune thus offered, and to risk
+the consequences?”
+
+“Yes, your Highness.”
+
+The ladies will make allowance for Delia’s faithlessness to Florival.
+How few female heads would not be turned by the prospect of wearing a
+crown! The heart’s voice is sometimes mute in presence of such brilliant
+temptations. Besides, was not Florival faithless? Who could say whither
+he might be led in the course of the tender scenes he acted with the
+Baroness Pippinstir? Prince Maximilian was neither young nor handsome,
+but he offered a throne. Not only an actress, but many a high-born dame,
+might possibly, in such circumstances, forget her love, and think only
+of her ambition.
+
+To her credit be it said, Delia did not yield without some reluctance to
+the Grand Duke’s arguments, which Balthasar backed with all his
+eloquence; but she ended by agreeing to the interview with Prince
+Maximilian.
+
+“I accept,” she resolutely exclaimed; “I shall be Sovereign Princess of
+Hanau.”
+
+“And I,” cried the Grand Duke, “shall marry Princess Wilhelmina, and,
+this very evening, poor Pippinstir, disconcerted and defeated, will go
+back to Saxe-Tolpelhausen.”
+
+“He would have done that in any case,” said Balthasar; “for, this
+evening, Florival was to have run away with his wife.”
+
+“That is carrying things rather far,” Delia remarked.
+
+“Such a scandal is unnecessary,” added the Grand Duke.
+
+Whilst awaiting the hour of her rendezvous with the prince, Delia,
+pensive and agitated, was walking in the park, when she came suddenly
+upon Florival, who seemed as much discomposed as herself. In spite of
+her newly-born ideas of grandeur, she felt a pain at her heart. With a
+forced smile, and in a tone of reproach and irony, she greeted her
+former lover.
+
+“A pleasant journey to you, Colonel Florival,” she said.
+
+“I may wish you the same,” replied Florival; “for doubtless you will
+soon set out for the principality of Hanau!”
+
+“Before long, no doubt.”
+
+“You admit it, then?”
+
+“Where is the harm? The wife must follow her husband—a princess must
+reign in her dominions.”
+
+“Princess! What do you mean? Wife! In what ridiculous promises have they
+induced you to confide?”
+
+Florival’s offensive doubts were dissipated by the formal explanation
+which Delia took malicious pleasure in giving him. A touching scene
+ensued; the lovers, who had both gone astray for a moment, felt their
+former flame burn all the more ardently for its partial and temporary
+extinction. Pardon was mutually asked and granted, and ambitious dreams
+fled before a burst of affection.
+
+“You shall see whether I love you or not,” said Florival to Delia.
+“Yonder comes Baron Pippinstir; I will take him into the summerhouse; a
+closet is there, where you can hide yourself to hear what passes, and
+then you shall decide my fate.”
+
+Delia went into the summerhouse, and hid herself in the closet. There
+she overheard the following conversation:—
+
+“What have you to say to me, Colonel?” asked the Baron.
+
+“I wish to speak to your Excellency of an affair that deeply concerns
+you.”
+
+“I am all attention; but I beg you to be brief; I am expected
+elsewhere.”
+
+“So am I.”
+
+“I must go to the prime minister, to return him this draught of a
+commercial treaty, which I cannot accept.”
+
+“And I must go to the rendezvous given me in this letter.”
+
+“The Baroness’s writing!”
+
+“Yes, Baron. Your wife has done me the honour to write to me. We set out
+together to-night; the Baroness is waiting for me in a post-chaise.”
+
+“And it is to me you dare acknowledge this abominable project?”
+
+“I am less generous than you think. You cannot but be aware that, owing
+to an irregularity in your marriage-contract, nothing would be easier
+than to get it annulled. This we will have done; we then obtain a
+divorce, and I marry the Baroness. You will, of course, have to hand me
+over her dowry—a million of florins—composing, if I do not mistake, your
+entire fortune.”
+
+The Baron, more dead than alive, sank into an arm-chair. He was struck
+speechless.
+
+“We might, perhaps, make some arrangement, Baron,” continued Florival.
+“I am not particularly bent upon becoming your wife’s second husband.”
+
+“Ah, sir!” cried the ambassador, “you restore me to life!”
+
+“Yes, but I will not restore you the Baroness, except on certain
+conditions.”
+
+“Speak! What do you demand?”
+
+“First, that treaty of commerce, which you must sign just as Count
+Lipandorf has drawn it up.”
+
+“I consent to do so.”
+
+“That is not all: you shall take my place at the rendezvous, get into
+the post-chaise, and run away with your wife; but first you must sit
+down at this table and write a letter, in due diplomatic form, to Prince
+Maximilian, informing him that, finding it impossible to accept his
+stipulations, you are compelled to decline, in your sovereign’s name,
+the honour of his august alliance.”
+
+“But, Colonel, remember that my instructions——”
+
+“Very well, fulfil them exactly; be a dutiful ambassador and a miserable
+husband, ruined, without wife and without dowry. You will never have
+such another chance, Baron! A pretty wife and a million of florins do
+not fall to a man’s lot twice in his life. But I must take my leave of
+you. I am keeping the Baroness waiting.”
+
+“I will go to her.... Give me paper, a pen, and be so good as to
+dictate. I am so agitated——”
+
+The Baron really was in a dreadful fluster. The letter written, and the
+treaty signed, Florival told his Excellency where he would find the
+post-chaise.
+
+“One thing more you must promise me,” said the young man, “and that is,
+that you will behave like a gentleman to your wife, and not scold her
+over-much. Remember the flaw in the contract. She may find somebody else
+in whose favour to cancel the document. Suitors will not be wanting.”
+
+“What need of a promise?” replied the poor Baron. “You know very well
+that my wife does what she likes with me? I shall have to explain my
+conduct, and ask her pardon.”
+
+Pippinstir departed. Delia left her hiding-place, and held out her hand
+to Florival.
+
+“You have behaved well,” she said.
+
+“That is more than the Baroness will say.”
+
+“She deserves the lesson. It is your turn to go into the closet and
+listen; the Prince will be here directly.”
+
+“I hear his footsteps.” And Florival was quickly concealed.
+
+“Charming Countess!” said the prince on entering, “I come to know my
+fate.”
+
+“What does your Highness mean?” said Delia, pretending not to understand
+him.
+
+“How can you ask? Has not the Grand Duke spoken to you?”
+
+“No, your Highness.”
+
+“Nor the prime minister?”
+
+“Not a word. When I received your letter, I was on the point of asking
+you for a private interview. I have a favour—a service—to implore of
+your Highness.”
+
+“It is granted before it is asked. I place my whole influence and power
+at your feet, charming Countess!”
+
+“A thousand thanks, illustrious prince. You have already shown me so
+much kindness, that I venture to ask you to make a communication to my
+brother, the Grand Duke, which I dare not make myself. I want you to
+inform him that I have been for three months privately married to Count
+Reinsberg.”
+
+“Good heavens!” cried Maximilian, falling into the arm-chair in which
+Pippinstir had recently reclined. On recovering from the shock, the
+prince rose again to his feet.
+
+“’Tis well, madam,” he said, in a faint voice. “’Tis well!”
+
+And he left the summerhouse.
+
+After reading Baron Pippinstir’s letter, Prince Maximilian fell
+a-thinking. It was not the Grand Duke’s fault if the Countess of
+Rosenthal did not ascend the throne of Hanau. There was an
+insurmountable obstacle. Then the precipitate departure of the
+ambassador of Saxe-Tolpelhausen was an affront which demanded instant
+vengeance. And the Grand Duke Leopold was a most estimable sovereign,
+skilful, energetic, and blessed with wise councillors; the Princess
+Wilhelmina liked him, and thought nothing could compare, for
+pleasantness, with his lively court, where all the men were amiable, and
+all the women charming. These various motives duly weighed, the Prince
+made up his mind, and next day was signed the marriage-contract of the
+Grand Duke of Niesenstein and the Princess Wilhelmina of Hanau.
+
+Three days later the marriage itself was celebrated.
+
+The play was played out.
+
+The actors had performed their parts with wit, intelligence, and a noble
+disinterestedness. They took their leave of the Grand Duke, leaving him
+with a rich and pretty wife, a powerful brother-in-law, a serviceable
+alliance, and a commercial treaty which could not fail to replenish his
+treasury.
+
+Embassies, special missions, banishment, were alleged to the Grand
+Duchess as the causes of their departure. Then an amnesty was published
+on the occasion of the marriage; the gates of the fortress of
+Zwingenberg opened, and the former courtiers resumed their respective
+posts.
+
+The reviving fortunes of the Grand Duke were a sure guarantee of their
+fidelity.
+
+
+
+
+                         LADY LEE’S WIDOWHOOD.
+
+
+                         PART IX.—CHAP. XLIII.
+
+A short time after the loss of poor Julius, Bagot had gone to town
+without seeing Lady Lee in the interval. The night of his arrival he
+wrote a note to Seager, desiring that gentleman to come to him in the
+morning.
+
+Seager came about ten o’clock to the lodgings occupied by Bagot,
+expecting to find him up and dressed. As he was not in the sitting-room,
+Seager proceeded up-stairs to his bedroom. He was met at the head of the
+stairs by Wilson, the Colonel’s servant, who told him he feared his
+master was ill. “He had been talking queer,” Wilson said,—“very queer.”
+
+Seager entered the bedroom. The Colonel was in bed, and did not look
+ill, but his friend observed that he cast a peculiar hurried anxious
+glance at the door as he entered. He went up to him, shook hands,
+congratulated him on the late event, and then seated himself on the side
+of the bed.
+
+“What makes you so late in bed?” asked Seager; “keeping it up late last
+night, eh?”
+
+“No,” said Bagot, “no. I want to get up—but how can I, you know, with
+these people in the room?” (casting a quick nervous glance towards a
+corner of the apartment.)
+
+“Very odd,” thought Seager, following the direction of the Colonel’s
+eyes, and seeing no one. “He hasn’t lost his wits, I hope. A little
+feverish, perhaps. I’m afraid you’re out of sorts, Lee,” he said. “You
+don’t look well.”
+
+“Quite well,” said Bagot; “never better. I’ll get up in a minute, my
+good fellow, as soon as they’re gone. Couldn’t you”—(in an under
+tone),—“couldn’t you get ’em to go?”
+
+“Who?” inquired Seager, again following the glance the Colonel cast
+towards the same part of the room.
+
+“Who!” cried Bagot; “why, that tea-party there. They’ve been drinking
+tea the whole morning—two women and a man.”
+
+“By Jove, he’s mad,” thought Seager to himself—“mad as a March hare.”
+
+“I’ve asked ’em as civilly as I could to go away,” said Bagot, “but they
+don’t mind that. It’s very curious, too, where they got the tea, for I
+don’t take much of it. Fancy them coming to me for tea, eh?” said Bagot.
+“Absurd, you know.”
+
+“Why, ’tis rather a good joke,” said Seager, affecting to laugh, but in
+great consternation. Since reading the accident to the poor little
+Baronet in the papers, he had counted on Bagot as the source from whence
+all the funds required for the conduct of the coming trial (without
+mentioning other more immediate wants) were to be supplied. And here was
+the Colonel evidently out of his mind—unfit, perhaps, to transact even
+so simple a business as drawing money.
+
+“Have you got much money in the house, Lee?” asked Seager presently.
+
+“Money,” said Bagot, who seemed to answer some questions rationally
+enough; “no, I don’t think I have; I’m going to draw some as soon as
+I’ve seen my lawyer.”
+
+“Just so,” said Seager, “and the sooner the better. Where’s your
+check-book? Just sign your name, and I’ll fill it up. We must have some
+funds to carry on the war. The trial comes on the beginning of next
+month, and there’s a great deal to be done beforehand.”
+
+“Ah, that cursed trial!” said the Colonel, grinding his teeth; “but I’ve
+been thinking it over, Seager, and it’s my belief that, if we bribe the
+Crown lawyers high enough, we may get ’em to lay the indictment for
+_manslaughter_.”
+
+“Manslaughter!” repeated Seager to himself, as he took the check-book
+from Bagot’s writing-desk. “Oh, by Jove, he’s stark staring! Now, old
+fellow,” he continued, coming to the bedside with the inkstand and
+check-book, “here you are. Just take the pen and write your name here.
+I’ll fill it up afterwards.”
+
+Bagot took the pen, and tried to write his name as Seager directed; but
+his hand shook so that he could not, and after an attempt or two, he
+threw the pen from him.
+
+“Come, try once more, and I’ll guide your hand,” said Seager. But Bagot
+refused so testily that he did not press him.
+
+“Do you know,” said Seager presently, puzzled at Bagot’s extraordinary
+demeanour, “I don’t think you’re half awake yet, Lee. You’ve been
+dreaming, haven’t you?”
+
+“Not a bit,” said Bagot; “I didn’t sleep a wink all night.”
+
+“I wonder if that’s true?” thought Seager. “You don’t see the tea-party
+now, do you?”
+
+Bagot, as if suddenly recollecting them, looked quickly towards the
+corner where he had fancied them seated. “No,” said he, with a kind of
+doubtful pleasure; “they’re gone—gone, by Jove!” Then, raising himself
+on his elbow, he cast a searching glance all round the room, and at last
+behind his bed, when he started, and, falling back aghast on his pillow,
+muttered, “There they are behind the curtains, drinking tea as hard as
+ever, _and they’ve got a little boy with ’em now_.”
+
+“Ah,” said Seager, humouring him, “what’s the boy like?”
+
+“I could only see his back,” answered Bagot, in a whisper, “but I
+wouldn’t look again for the world,” (shuddering, and turning his face
+away.)
+
+Seager now went to the door, and, calling Wilson, desired him to fetch a
+physician who lived in the street, to see his master.
+
+The physician, a brisk man, of few years, considering his eminence, and
+who piqued himself on suiting his tone to that of his patients and their
+friends, soon arrived. He came in jauntily, asked Bagot how he was,
+heard all about the intrusive tea-party, felt his pulse, looked at him
+attentively, and then took Seager aside.
+
+“The Colonel, now, isn’t the most abstemious man in the world, is he?”
+he inquired, with a jocular air.
+
+“No, by Gad,” said Mr Seager; “he’s a pretty hard liver.”
+
+“Drinks pretty freely, eh? Wine?—brandy?”
+
+“More than I should like to,” replied Seager. “I’ve often told him he’d
+have to pull up some day.”
+
+“Ah, yes, he’ll have to”—said the other nodding. “He’s got delirium
+tremens.”
+
+“Has he, by Jove!” exclaimed Seager—adding, with an oath, “what a fool I
+was, that it never occurred to me, knowing him as I do.”
+
+“The attack’s just beginning now, and promises to be violent,” said the
+doctor.
+
+“What—you think ’twill go hard with him, eh?”
+
+The physician said, “Perhaps it might; ’twas impossible to say;
+however,” he added, “you won’t be long in suspense—a few days will
+settle the matter.”
+
+“Come, that’s a comfort,” said Seager, remembering how important it was
+that Bagot should be able to exert himself before the trial. “Poor
+devil,” he added, “what a pity—just come into a fine property!”
+
+“Well, well, we’ll try to keep him in possession,” said the doctor.
+“I’ll leave a prescription, and look in again shortly.”
+
+“By the by,” said Seager, detaining him, “people who’ve got this
+complaint sometimes talk confounded stuff, don’t they?” The doctor said
+they did.
+
+“And let out secrets about their own affairs, and other people’s?”
+
+“Possibly they might,” the doctor said—“their delusions were various,
+and often mixed strangely with truth. I’ve heard patients,” he added,
+“in this state talk about private matters, and therefore it may be as
+well to let no strangers come about him, if you can avoid it.”
+
+Seager thought the advice good, and assured the doctor that he would
+look after him himself. Accordingly, he sent to his own lodgings for a
+supply of necessaries, and established himself as Bagot’s attendant.
+
+In this capacity Mr Seager’s energy and vigilant habits enabled him to
+act with great effect; in fact, if he had been the poor Colonel’s
+warmly-attached brother, he could not have taken better care of him. He
+administered his medicine, which there was no difficulty in getting him
+to take, as it consisted principally of large doses of brandy: he held
+him down, with Wilson’s assistance, in his violent fits, and humoured
+the strange hallucinations which now began to crowd upon him thick and
+fast.
+
+Some of these Mr Seager found rather diverting, especially an attendant
+imp which Bagot conceived was perpetually hovering about the bed, and in
+whose motions he took vast interest.
+
+“Take care,” said Bagot, starting up in bed on one occasion as Seager
+approached him; “mind, mind! you’ll tread on him.”
+
+“Tread on what?” said Seager, looking down, deceived by the earnestness
+of the appeal.
+
+“Why the little devil—poor little fellow, don’t hurt him. You’ve no idea
+how lively he is. I wouldn’t have him injured,” added Bagot tenderly,
+“on any account.”
+
+“Certainly not,” said Seager; “not while he behaves himself. What’s he
+like, eh?”
+
+“He’s about the size,” returned Bagot, “of a printer’s devil, or perhaps
+a little smaller; and, considering his inches, he’s uncommonly active.
+He was half-way up the bedpost this morning at one spring.”
+
+All this nonsense, delivered with perfect earnestness and gravity,
+contrasted so oddly with the Colonel’s red nose and bristly unshaven
+face, that it greatly amused Mr Seager, and helped him to pass the time.
+By and by, however, both the tea-party and the imp disappeared, and
+their place was taken by spectres of more formidable stamp. In
+particular, there was a demon disguised as a bailiff in top-boots, who
+was come, as Bagot firmly believed, to take his soul in execution, he
+having unfortunately lost it at chicken hazard to the enemy of mankind,
+which latter personage he paid Mr Seager the compliment of taking him
+for.
+
+It was now that Seager began to appreciate the soundness of the doctor’s
+advice with respect to excluding strangers from the hearing of Bagot’s
+delusions. He began to talk, sometimes pertinently, sometimes wildly, of
+the approaching trial, generally ending in absurd ravings; sometimes
+charging Seager with dreadful crimes, sometimes imagining himself the
+culprit. On the third day of his attack, Seager remarked that a showman
+figured largely in his discourse, and, finding the patient in a
+tractable mood, he questioned him as to who this showman might be.
+
+“I know,” said the Colonel, still taking Mr Seager for the distinguished
+personage aforesaid—“I know it’s of no use to try to keep anything a
+secret from _you_. But suppose now I tell you all about Holmes, will you
+let me off what—what I lost, you know?”
+
+“What was that?” asked Seager, forgetting the imaginary forfeit.
+
+“Why the—the soul,” said Bagot. “It’s of no use to you, you know.”
+
+“Oh, ah, I’d forgotten that,” said Seager. “Pray, don’t mention it;
+’tisn’t of the least consequence. Yes, we’ll cry quits about that.”
+
+Then, to his hearer’s surprise, Bagot, apparently satisfied with the
+conditions, related all the particulars of his nocturnal interview with
+Mr Holmes, comprising what had passed between them inside the caravan.
+
+Seager listened in breathless astonishment. The delusion, if delusion
+there was in this instance, was the most plausible and coherent of any
+that had yet haunted Bagot. It had touched, too, on some previous
+suspicions in Seager’s own mind, and he resolved, if Bagot recovered, to
+sound him on the subject.
+
+Meantime he tried to lead him to talk more freely on the subject. But
+Bagot now began to wander, talked all kinds of nonsense, and ended, as
+usual, in violent ravings.
+
+All this time the demon in top-boots and his brethren were in constant
+attendance. Never for a moment was Bagot free from the horror of their
+presence; and if all the frightful spectres of romance and superstition
+had been actually crowded round his bed, the poor Colonel could not have
+suffered more than from the horrible phantasms that his imagination
+summoned to attend him.
+
+It was beginning to be doubtful if he could hold out much longer under
+the disease; but on the third night he fell asleep, and woke the next
+morning in his right mind.
+
+“Ah, he’s pulled through this time,” said the doctor, when he saw him.
+“All right, now; but he mustn’t resume his hard drinking, or he’ll have
+another attack.”
+
+“I’ll look after him myself,” said Mr Seager. “I’ll lock up the brandy
+bottle, and put him on short allowance.”
+
+“Well, he ought to be very grateful to you, I’m sure,” said the doctor,
+“for all your attention. Really, I never saw greater kindness, even
+among near relations.” And the doctor having been paid, departed,
+perfectly convinced that Mr Seager was one of the best fellows that ever
+breathed, and the sort of person to make any sacrifice to serve his
+friends.
+
+“Now I’ll tell you what it is, Lee,” said Seager, when Bagot was on his
+legs again, and manifested a desire for his customary drams. “You
+mustn’t go on in your old way yet awhile. If you do, you’ll go to the
+devil in no time.”
+
+“Never you mind, sir,” said Bagot with dignity. “I presume I’m the best
+judge of what’s good for me.”
+
+“You never made a greater mistake,” returned Mr Seager. “Just go and
+look in the glass, and see what your judgment of what’s good for you has
+brought you to, you unfortunate old beggar. You look like a cocktail
+screw after the third heat, all puffing and trembling. I’ll lay you a
+five-pound note you don’t look me straight in the face for a minute
+together. Here’s a sovereign, now—well, I’ll put it between your lips,
+and if you can hold it there for fifty seconds, you shall have it, and
+if not, you shall give me one. What d’ye say to that?”
+
+“Sir,” said Bagot, with his lips trembling, and his eyes rolling more
+than ever at these delicate allusions to his infirmities—“sir, you are
+disagreeably personal.”
+
+“Personal!” sneered Mr Seager. “I wish you could hear the confounded
+rubbish you talked while in bed. I only wished I’d had a short-hand
+writer to take it down—all about the bailiffs, and devils, and so forth.
+And the showman, too—one Holmes. He struck me as a real character; and
+if all you said was true, you must have had some queer dealings
+together.”
+
+As he spoke he fixed his green eye on Bagot, who started, cast one
+nervous glance at him, and then, in great agitation, rose and walked to
+the window, where Seager saw him wipe his forehead with his
+handkerchief.
+
+Presently he looked stealthily over his shoulder, and, perceiving that
+Seager still eyed him, he affected to laugh. “Cursed nonsense I must
+have talked, I daresay,” said he huskily. “Oh, cursed, you know, ha,
+ha.”
+
+“But that about the showman Holmes didn’t sound so absurd as the rest,”
+said Seager. “It struck me as more like some real circumstances you were
+recollecting. Come, suppose you tell me all about it sensibly, now.”
+
+“No more of this, sir,” said Bagot, waving the handkerchief he had been
+wiping his forehead with. “The subject is unpleasant. No man, I presume,
+likes to be reminded that he has been talking like a fool. We won’t
+resume the subject now, or at any other time, if you please.”
+
+“Ah,” said Seager to himself, on observing Bagot’s agitation, “I was
+right—there was some truth in that. I must consider how to turn it to
+account.”
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XLIV.
+
+In his new circumstances Bagot was, of course, a very different
+personage from the Colonel Lee known to tradesmen and money-lenders of
+old. There was no talk now of arresting him for small debts, no
+hesitation in complying with his orders. The Jews, bill-brokers, and
+other accommodating persons who had lately been open-mouthed against
+him, now offered him unlimited credit, of which he did not fail to avail
+himself. His creditor, Mr Dubbley, seeing the very different position
+the Colonel would now occupy at the Heronry, and alive to the impolicy
+of offending so important a neighbour, stopt all proceedings against
+him, and, with the most abject apologies and assurances of regard,
+entreated him to take his own leisure for the payment of the debt.
+Apparently satisfied with these advantages, the Colonel showed no
+eagerness to take upon him either the dignity or the emoluments that had
+now devolved on him in the succession of inheritance.
+
+The first lawyers in the kingdom were retained for him and Seager. A
+considerable sum was placed at the disposal of the latter, who was to
+employ it either in bribing that very important witness, Jim the groom,
+who had charge of Goshawk, to perjure himself, or in getting him to
+abscond. As he proved tractable, however, and agreed, for a sum which he
+named, to swear anything that the gentlemen might wish, it was resolved
+to produce him; and Seager was very sanguine of a favourable result.
+
+In the mean time Bagot, anxious and gloomy, kept almost entirely in his
+lodgings, and seldom spoke to anybody except on business. He did not
+know what reports might be abroad about the coming trial; he did not
+know how his associates would look upon him; and he feared at present to
+put the matter to proof by going among them. This line of conduct Seager
+thought highly impolitic, and told him so. “Put a good face on the
+matter,” he said. “Go down to the club—play billiards—go to the opera.
+If you go sneaking about with a hangdog face, as if you didn’t dare show
+yourself, people will bring you in guilty before the trial, and the
+legal acquittal will hardly serve to set you right again.”
+
+So Bagot suffered himself to be persuaded, and went down to his club.
+Here he had been, in days of yore, a prominent character, and had
+enjoyed an extensive popularity among the members. He formed a sort of
+connecting link between the fogies and the youngsters; his experience
+allying him with the one class, his tastes and habits with the other.
+Here he might formerly often have been seen entertaining a knot of
+immoral old gentlemen with jokes improper for publication, or the centre
+of an admiring circle of fledglings of the sporting world, who
+reverenced him as an old bird of great experience and sagacity.
+
+With doubtful and anxious feelings, he now revisited the scene of his
+former glory. Putting on as composed a face as possible, he went
+up-stairs and entered the library. There were several people in it whom
+he knew. One well-known man-about-town, with whom the Colonel was rather
+intimate, was seated opposite the door reading a newspaper, and, as
+Bagot could have sworn, fixed his eye on him as he entered, but it was
+instantaneously dropt on the paper. Another member—an old gentleman who
+was strongly suspected of a happy knack of turning up honours at
+critical movements of the game of whist—looked round at his entrance,
+and the Colonel advanced to greet him, in perfect confidence that he, at
+any rate, was not a likely person to cast the first stone at him; but
+Bagot was mistaken. The old gentleman shifted his chair so as to place
+his back towards Bagot, with a loud snort of virtuous indignation, and,
+leaning forward, whispered to a neighbour some hurried words, of which
+Bagot could distinguish—“Deuced bad taste!—don’t you think so?”
+
+Crimson with rage and shame, Bagot bent down over a newspaper to recover
+himself, and fumbled with trembling hands at his eye-glasses. He heard a
+step behind him presently, but he dared not look up.
+
+“Lee, my boy, how are you?” said a stout hearty man about fifty,
+slapping the Colonel on the shoulder. “I’ve just come back from a tour,
+and the first thing I saw in the paper was about you—about your”—the
+stout gentleman stopt to sneeze, which he did four times, with terrible
+convulsions of face and figure, during which Bagot was in horrible
+suspense, while every ear in the room was pricked up—“about your good
+fortune,” said the stout gentleman, after he had blown and wiped his
+sonorous nose as carefully as if it were some delicate musical
+instrument that he was going to put by in its case. “I congratulate you
+with all my heart. Fine property, I’m told. Just wait while I ring the
+bell, and we’ll have a chat together.”
+
+He went to the bell and rung it; but, on his way back to Bagot, he was
+stopped by a friend who had entered the library with him, and who now
+drew him aside. Bagot stole a glance over his paper at them. He felt
+they were talking about him. He heard his stout friend say—“God bless
+me, who would have thought it!” and he perceived that, instead of
+rejoining him, according to promise, he took a chair at the farther end
+of the room.
+
+Bagot still kept his own seat a little while, but he could not long
+endure his position. He fancied every one was looking at him, though,
+when, with this impression strong on him, he glared defiance around,
+every eye was averted. He wished—he only wished—that some one would
+offer him some gross tangible insult, that he might relieve himself by
+an outburst—that he might hurl his scorn and defiance at them and the
+whole world.
+
+No one, however, seemed likely to oblige him with an opportunity of this
+kind, and, after a minute or two, Bagot rose, and, with as much
+composure as he could command, quitted the room and the house. As he
+walked—in no happy frame of mind with himself, with the world, or with
+Seager, whose advice had entailed upon him this mortification—towards
+his lodgings, along one of the small streets near St James’s, he saw
+some one wave his hand to him, in a friendly manner, from the opposite
+side of the way. Bagot was too short-sighted to recognise this
+acquaintance; but, seeing him prepare to cross the road to him, and
+reflecting that he could not afford to drop any acquaintances just then,
+when all seemed deserting him, he stopped to see who it was.
+
+Mr Jack Sharpe, the person who now drew near, had been intended for the
+Church, but happening to be fast in everything except in his progress in
+the different branches of university learning, in which he was
+particularly slow, he never arrived at the dignity of orders. He had
+formerly moved in the same circle as Bagot, but had lost his footing
+there, in consequence of strong suspicions of dishonourable conduct on
+the turf. These seemed the more likely to be just, as he had never
+sought to rebut the charge against him; and it was rumoured that, since
+the occurrence, he had allied himself—taking, at the same time, no great
+precautions for secresy—with a certain swindling confederacy. Therefore
+Bagot had, when last in town, in all the might and majesty of conscious
+integrity, avoided Mr Jack Sharpe, sternly repelled all his attempts to
+renew their acquaintance, and returned his greetings, when they chanced
+to meet, with the most chilling and formal bows. Sharpe appeared to
+think that late circumstances had bridged over the gulf between them,
+for he not only saluted Bagot with unwonted familiarity, but took his
+hand. The Colonel disengaged it, and, intrenching himself behind his
+dignity, endeavoured to pass on. Jack Sharpe, nothing daunted, walked
+cheerfully beside him.
+
+“Well, Colonel, how goes the trial?” asked Mr Sharpe, who had managed,
+notwithstanding his downfall, to preserve the appearance and manners of
+a gentleman. “You’ll get a verdict, I hope.”
+
+The Colonel inclined his head stiffly.
+
+“Well, I hope so,” said Jack Sharpe. “It was a deuced clever thing, from
+what I hear of it, and deserves success; and my opinion of the
+cleverness of the thing will be exactly the same, whether you and Seager
+get an acquittal or not.” And Mr Sharpe looked as if he expected to find
+Bagot highly gratified by his approbation.
+
+“Do you presume, for a moment, to insinuate a doubt of my innocence of
+the charge?” asked Bagot sternly.
+
+“Oh, certainly not,” returned Jack Sharpe, with a laugh. “Quite right to
+carry it high, Colonel. Nothing like putting a good face on it.”
+
+“Sir,” said Bagot, increasing his pace, “your remarks are offensive.”
+
+“I didn’t mean them to be so,” answered the other. “But you’re quite
+right to carry it off this way. You’ve come into a good property, I
+hear, and that will keep you fair with the world, however this trial, or
+a dozen other such, might go. Some people have the devil’s own luck.
+Yes, Colonel, you’ll pull through it—you’ll never fall among thieves.
+It’s only the _poor_ devils,” added Jack Sharpe bitterly, “that get
+pitched into and kicked into outer darkness.”
+
+Bagot was perfectly livid. By this time they had reached a corner of the
+street, and, stopping short, the Colonel said—
+
+“Oblige me by saying which way your road lies.”
+
+“Well, well, good morning, Colonel. I’m not offended, for, I daresay, I
+should do the same myself in your place. Politic, Colonel, politic! I
+wish you good luck and good morning.” And Mr Jack Sharpe took himself
+off.
+
+This encounter grated on Bagot’s feelings more than any other incident
+that had occurred to him. To be hailed familiarly as a comrade by a
+swindler—to be prejudged as one who had forfeited his position in
+society, and was to retain it only on new and accidental grounds—this
+sunk deep, and shook that confidence of success which he had hitherto
+never permitted himself to question.
+
+Just afterwards he met Seager, who came gaily up to ask him how he had
+got on at the club. Bagot told him something of the unpleasant treatment
+he had met with, and the disgust and annoyance it had caused him to
+feel. Seager grinned.
+
+“You’re not hard enough, Lee—you think too much of these things. Now,
+I’m as hard as a nail. I meet with exactly the same treatment as you do,
+but what do I care for it? It doesn’t hurt me—they can’t put _me_ down,”
+and Seager smiled at the thought of his own superiority. “What would you
+do, I wonder, if a thing which just now happened to me were to happen to
+you? I was looking on at a billiard match, and Crossley, (you know
+Crossley?) who had been, like the rest of ’em, deuced distant and cool
+to me, offered to bet on the game. I took him up—he declined. ‘Oh, you
+back out, do you?’ says I. ‘Not at all,’ says Crossley; ‘but I don’t bet
+with everybody.’ Now, what would you have done?”
+
+“I should have desired him to apologise instantly,” said the Colonel.
+
+“He’d have refused.”
+
+“I’d have kicked him,” said the Colonel.
+
+“’Twould have caused a row, and we’re quite conspicuous enough already,”
+said Seager. “No; I turned coolly to him, and says I, ‘Very good; as
+we’re going to close our accounts, I’ll thank you for that ten-pound
+note I won from you on the Phœbe match.’ Crossley, you know, is poor and
+proud, and he looked cursedly disgusted and cut up at this exposure of
+his shortcomings. I’ll bet, he wishes he’d been civil now. You must take
+these things coolly. Never mind how they look at you: go back to the
+club, now, and brave it out—show ’em you don’t care for ’em.”
+
+“No,” muttered Bagot, “I’d die first. I’ll go out no more till ’tis
+over.”
+
+In this resolution he shut himself up in his lodgings, only going out in
+the dusk to walk in such thoroughfares as were not likely to be
+frequented by any of his acquaintances. Never had a week passed so
+dismally with him as this. His nerves were yet unstrung by his late
+attack, and his anxiety was augmented as the day of the trial
+approached, until he wondered how he could endure it. In spite of his
+efforts, his thoughts were impelled into tracks the most repugnant to
+him. The remembrance of his reception by the members of his club haunted
+him incessantly, though it was what most of all he wished to forget; for
+Bagot, being, as we have seen him, a weak-principled man of social
+habits, though he had found no difficulty in quieting his own
+conscience, was keenly alive to the horrors of disgrace.
+
+He felt as he remembered to have often felt when a great race was
+approaching, which was to make or mar him—only the interest now was more
+painfully strong than ever before. There was an event of some sort in
+store—why could he not divine it?—ah, if he were only as wise now as he
+would be this day week, what anxiety would be saved him! He only dared
+contemplate the possibility of one result—an acquittal. That would lift
+the weight from his breast and reopen life to him. But a
+conviction!—that he dared not think of—for that contingency he made no
+provision.
+
+During this week Harry Noble had come up from the Heronry on some
+business connected with the stable there, in which the Colonel had been
+interested; and Bagot, conceiving he might be useful in matters in which
+he did not choose to trust his own servant Wilson, had desired him to
+remain in town for the present. This Seager was glad of, for he knew
+Harry was to be trusted, and he told him in a few words the nature of
+the predicament the Colonel was in.
+
+“You must have an eye to him,” said Seager; “don’t let him drink much,
+if you can help it; and if it should be necessary for him to make a trip
+to France for a time, you must go with him.”
+
+“I’ll go with him to the world’s end, Mr Seager,” said Harry. He was
+much attached to the Colonel, having known him since the time when
+Noble, as a boy, entered the Heronry stables; and though he had then,
+like the other stable-boys, found Bagot very severe and exacting, yet,
+having once proved himself a careful and trustworthy servant and
+excellent groom, the Colonel had honoured him since with a good deal of
+his confidence.
+
+Harry had the more readily agreed to this since, when leaving the
+Heronry, he had parted in great wrath from Miss Fillett, who had found
+time in the midst of her religious zeal to harrow up Noble’s soul with
+fresh jealousies, and to flirt demurely, but effectually, with many
+brethren who frequented the same chapel.
+
+The day before the trial Seager came, and Bagot prevailed on him to stay
+and dine, and play écarte. Seager was sanguine of the result of the
+trial, which was to commence on the morrow, in the Court of Queen’s
+Bench—spoke in assured terms of the excellence of their case, their
+counsel, and their witnesses; and telling him to keep up his spirits,
+wished him good night, promising to bring him back the earliest
+intelligence of how the day had gone.
+
+The Colonel’s eagerness for, and terror of, the result had now worked
+him into a state of agitation little short of frenzy. The trial was
+expected to last two days, but the first would probably show him how the
+case was likely to terminate. Both Bagot and Seager preferred forfeiting
+their recognisances to surrendering to take their trial, which would
+have shut out all hope of escape in the event of an adverse verdict.
+
+Finding it impossible to sit still while in this state, the Colonel
+started for a long walk, resolving to return at the hour at which Seager
+might be expected. Arriving a few minutes later than he intended, he
+went up-stairs to his sitting-room, but started back on seeing a person
+whom he did not recognise there. His first impression was, that it was a
+man come to arrest him.
+
+His visitor, on seeing his consternation, gave a loud laugh. It was Mr
+Seager.
+
+“Gad, Lee,” said that worthy, “it _must_ be well done, if it takes you
+in. I was in court all day, and sat next a couple of our set, but they
+hadn’t an idea who I was.”
+
+Mr Seager was certainly well disguised, and it was no wonder the Colonel
+had not recognised him. Low on his forehead came a black wig, and
+whiskers of the same met under his chin. He had a mustache also; his
+coat was blue, his waistcoat gorgeous, with two or three chains,
+evidently plated, meandering over it, and his trousers were of a large
+and brilliant check. In his elaborate shirt-front appeared several
+studs, like little watches, and his neck was enveloped in a black satin
+stock with gold flowers and a great pin.
+
+“What d’ye think, Lee—don’t I look the nobby Israelite, eh?”
+
+Bagot shortly admitted the excellence of his disguise, and then asked,
+“What news?—is it over?”
+
+“Only the prosecution—that’s finished,” returned the metamorphosed
+Seager.
+
+“Well,” said Bagot breathlessly, “and how—how did it go?”
+
+“Sit down,” said Seager; “give me a cigar, and I’ll tell you all about
+it.”
+
+Nothing could be more strongly contrasted than the anxiety of Bagot with
+the composure of Seager. No one would have imagined them to be both
+equally concerned in the proceedings that the latter now proceeded to
+relate; while Bagot glared at him, gnawing his nails and breathing hard.
+
+“The court,” said Seager, throwing himself back in the chair after he
+had lit his cigar, with his hands in his trousers’ pockets, and his feet
+stretched to the fire—“the court was crowded. Sloperton’s counsel opened
+the ball by giving a sketch of the whole affair—little personal
+histories of you and me and Sloperton, the sort of things that might be
+prefixed to our poetical works after we’re dead—you know the style of
+thing, Lee, birth, parentage, breeding, so forth. Then came out
+Sloperton’s meeting with us at the Bush at Doddington—the adjournment to
+Oates’s room—the broiled bones, cards, and betting, and the terms of the
+wager with Sloperton.
+
+“Our friend Sloper was the first witness, and had got himself up a most
+awful swell, as you may suppose, on such a grand occasion, and there
+wasn’t a young lady in court who didn’t sympathise with him. I could see
+by his way of giving evidence he was as vindictive as the devil. Our
+fellows went at him, but they didn’t damage his evidence much. He told
+about the bet—how, by your advice, he had sent to me to offer to
+compromise it—and how he had perfectly depended all was fair till he
+heard the mare was lame. Oates followed, and corroborated the whole
+story. Then came one of the vets who attended the mare, and he swore, in
+his opinion, she’d got navicular disease. Then came a new actor” (Bagot
+listened more eagerly than ever), “one Mr Chick, who saw us return to
+the stable that morning we gave Goshawk the trial; and he swore the mare
+was lame then.”
+
+Bagot drew a long breath, and fell back in his chair.
+
+“Against all this,” Seager went on, “we’ve got to-morrow the evidence of
+Jim, who’ll swear the mare never was lame while in his charge, and of
+the other vet, who’ll swear she was and is sound. So cheer up, old boy;
+it may go all right yet. Never say die.”
+
+Seager paused, and looked at Bagot, who had covered his face with his
+hands. Both were silent for a space.
+
+“By the by,” said Seager presently, in an indifferent tone, yet eyeing
+Bagot with a keenness that showed his interest in the question—“by the
+by, where’s Lady Lee now?”
+
+Bagot did not answer, and Seager repeated the question.
+
+“What’s Lady Lee to you, sir?” said Bagot, removing his hands from his
+face, the colour of which was very livid.
+
+“O, nothing particular; but she might be something to you, you know, in
+case of the business going against us to-morrow. You said she had left
+the Heronry, didn’t you?”
+
+Bagot did not reply.
+
+“It’s no use blinking the matter,” said Seager testily. “Things may go
+against us to-morrow, in which case I’m off, and so are you, I suppose.
+I’ve made all my arrangements; but I think we had better take different
+roads, and appoint a place to meet on the Continent. But I’m short of
+money for a long trip, and, of course, you’ll accommodate me. We row in
+the same boat, you know. Come, what will you come down with?”
+
+“Not a penny,” said Bagot in a low thick voice.
+
+“Eh! what?” said Seager, looking up at him.
+
+“Not a penny,” said Bagot, raising his voice. “You devil,” he cried,
+starting from his chair, “don’t you know you’ve ruined me?” and, seizing
+the astonished Seager by the throat, he shook him violently.
+
+“You cursed old lunatic!” cried Seager, as soon as he had struggled
+himself free from Bagot’s grasp. “You’re mad, you old fool. Only raise a
+finger again, and I’ll brain you with the poker. What d’ye mean, ha? We
+must talk about this, and you shall apologise, or give me satisfaction.”
+
+“What, an affair of _honour_, eh?” sneered Bagot between his ground
+teeth. “Between two _gentlemen_! That sounds better than convicted
+swindlers. Curse you,” he added, in a hoarse whisper, “you’ve been my
+destruction.”
+
+“He’s dangerous,” thought Seager, as he looked at him. “Come, Lee,” said
+he, “listen to reason; lend me a supply, and we’ll say no more about
+this queer behaviour. I know you’ve been drinking.”
+
+“You have my answer, sir,” said Bagot. “Not a penny, I repeat. I wish
+you may starve—rot in a jail.”
+
+Seager looked at him keenly for a minute. “He’s been at the brandy
+bottle,” he thought. “Well, let him drink himself mad or dead, if he
+likes. But, no!—that won’t do either—he may be useful yet. The old
+fool!” he muttered as he departed, “he doesn’t know how far he has let
+me into his secrets. Well, he’ll change his note, perhaps;” so saying,
+he left the room and the house.
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XLV.
+
+Disguised as before, Seager went to Westminster next day, to hear the
+conclusion of the trial. The court was, as on the previous day, crowded
+to excess, and Seager recognised a great number of his and Bagot’s
+acquaintances among the spectators.
+
+The counsel for the defendants made an able address to the jury. The
+prosecutor, he said, had tried to win Seager’s money, as Seager had
+tried to win his; and, nettled at finding he had made a rash bet, he now
+brought the action. The defendants were men of reputation, who had been
+engaged in many betting transactions before, and always without blemish
+or suspicion. There was no proof that the mare was unfit for the feat
+she had been backed to perform; and, if she had attempted it, she could
+have done it with ease.
+
+After calling several witnesses to speak to minor points, the other
+veterinary surgeon who had attended the mare was put in the box. He
+swore the mare’s lameness was trifling and temporary; that he had seen
+her trot, and believed her certain to win such a match as the one in
+question; and that he had not detected in her any trace of navicular
+disease.
+
+This witness having sustained a severe cross-examination unshaken, Mr
+Seager began to breathe more freely. The last witness was Jim the groom.
+Jim, though very compliant in respect of any evidence he might be
+required to give, had obstinately insisted on payment beforehand. It was
+to no purpose Seager had promised him the money the instant he should
+come out of court; the cautious Jim was inflexible till the stipulated
+sum was put in his hands.
+
+Seager watched him as he was being sworn with the greatest attention;
+but Jim’s was not an expressive countenance, and nothing was to be read
+there. But Mr Seager detected treachery in his manner the moment the
+examination began. Without attempting to repeat the lesson he had been
+taught, he prevaricated so much that the counsel for the defendants,
+finding he was more likely to damage than to assist his clients,
+abruptly sat down. In the cross-examination he suffered (though with
+some appearance of unwillingness) the whole truth to be elicited;
+admitted the mare’s lameness—remembered the Colonel and his master
+trying her, and finding her lame—(an incident he had been especially
+desired to erase from his memory)—and also remembered to have heard them
+talk about “navicular.” He also recollected that Seager cautioned him to
+keep the circumstance very quiet.
+
+Seager sat grinding his teeth with rage. He had forgotten the incident
+of the horse-whipping which he had administered to Jim, though the
+latter had not, and was therefore at a loss to account for his
+treachery. Jim’s revenge happening to coincide with his duty, he had no
+sooner pocketed the reward for his intended perjury, than he resolved to
+pursue the paths of rectitude, and to speak the truth.
+
+Just at this time Seager caught sight of one he knew standing very near
+him, and listening as eagerly as himself. This was Harry Noble, who had
+been there also on the previous day, and who, firmly convinced that his
+master was wrongfully accused, had heard the evidence of the groom Jim
+with high indignation, and was now burning to defy that perjured
+slanderer to abide the ordeal of single combat. Seager, writing a few
+words on a slip of paper, made his way up to Harry, and pulled his
+sleeve. Noble turned round and stared at him, without any sign of
+recognition.
+
+“Look another way,” said Seager, “and listen. ’Tis me—and I want you to
+run with this note to the Colonel.”
+
+“What! are you Mr Sea——?” began Harry; but Seager squeezed his arm.
+
+“Hush!” he said. “I don’t want to be known; and don’t mention to anybody
+but the Colonel that you’ve seen me. Take this note to him; he’ll start
+for France as soon as he gets it, and you must get him away with all the
+speed you can. Don’t delay a minute.”
+
+Noble nodded and quitted the court. He got a cab, and went with all
+speed to Bagot’s lodgings, and, telling the cabman to wait, immediately
+ran up-stairs with the note. The Colonel, who was pacing the room,
+snatched it eagerly, read it, and let it fall, sinking back into a chair
+quite collapsed. “It’s all over,” he muttered.
+
+Noble stood near, looking at him in respectful silence for a minute or
+two. At length he ventured to say, “Shall I begin to pack up, sir? Mr
+Seager said we must be quick.”
+
+“Don’t name him!” thundered Bagot, starting from his chair. “Curse him!
+I could tear him!”
+
+“I’ll never believe ’twas you as did the trick, sir,” said Noble. “No
+more won’t anybody else; though, as for Mr Seager, I couldn’t say. Shall
+I begin to pack up, sir?” he repeated.
+
+“Do what you please,” returned his master in fierce abstraction.
+
+Noble, thus empowered, entered the bedroom, and began to stow Bagot’s
+clothes away in his portmanteau. Presently he came to the door of the
+apartment, where the Colonel had again sunk down in his chair. Bagot was
+now face to face with the event he had so dreaded; no subterfuge could
+keep it off any longer—no side look rid him of its presence. He would,
+in a few hours, be a convicted, as he was already a disgraced, man. The
+averted looks—the whispers—the cold stares of former friends, that had
+lately driven him almost mad, were now to be his for life. Life! would
+he bear it? It had no further hope, promise, or charm for him, and he
+was resolved to be rid of it and dishonour together.
+
+“Beg pardon, sir,” said Noble at length, seeing that Bagot took no
+notice of him. “Perhaps you’d wish to let my lady know where we’re gone,
+sir?”
+
+Bagot started, and seemed to think for a minute. As soon as Noble, after
+delivering his suggestion, had vanished, the Colonel drew his chair to
+the table, and began to write, while Harry, in the next room, went on
+with the packing.
+
+He finished his letter, directed and sealed it, and laid it down,
+muttering, “Thank God there’s one act of justice done.” Then he went to
+a cupboard in the apartment, filled a large glass of brandy, and drank
+it off. “Now,” he muttered, “one moment’s firmness! no delay! Leave that
+room,” he called out to Noble, as he went towards the bedroom—“there’s
+something I wish to pack up myself.”
+
+Noble accordingly came out. As he passed the Colonel, he noticed a
+wildness in his expression. Before entering the bedroom the Colonel
+turned and said, “Let that letter be sent to-day,” pointing to the one
+he had just written, “and you can go down stairs for the present,” he
+added.
+
+Noble’s suspicions were aroused. Having got as far as the door, he
+pretended to shut himself out, and came softly back. Listening for a
+moment, he heard Bagot open some sort of case that creaked. Presently he
+peeped in—Bagot was in the very act of fumbling, with trembling hands,
+at the lock of a pistol. He was just raising it towards his head when
+Noble, with a shout, rushed in and caught his arm.
+
+“Don’t ye, sir, don’t ye, for God’s sake!” he said, as Bagot turned his
+face with a bewildered stare towards him. “Give it to me, sir.”
+
+“Leave me, sir,” said Bagot, still looking wildly at him—“leave me to
+wipe out my dishonour.” He struggled for a moment to retain the pistol,
+but Noble wrested it from him, took off the cap, and returned it to its
+case. The Colonel sunk down moaning on the bed, and covered his face
+with his hands.
+
+Noble hastily fastened the portmanteau and carpet-bag, and called to
+Wilson to help to take them down to the cab in which he had come, and
+which waited at the door.
+
+“Now, sir,” he whispered to Bagot, “don’t take on so—we shall be safe
+to-night. You won’t think of doing yourself a mischief, sir, will you?
+don’t ye, sir!”
+
+He took him gently by the arm. The poor Colonel, with his nerves all
+unstrung, rose mechanically, and stood like a child while Noble put on
+his hat and wiped his face, which was moist with sweat and tears; then
+he followed him down stairs unresistingly. Noble whispered to Wilson at
+the door, that he and the Colonel were going away for a time, and that
+there was a letter on the table to be sent that night to the post. Then
+he put the Colonel and the luggage into the cab, mounted himself to the
+box, and they drove off, Harry frequently turning to look at his master
+through the front glass.
+
+Meantime Seager sat hearing the close of the defence. The judge summed
+up, leaving it to the jury to say whether the defendants knew of the
+mare’s unfitness to perform her engagement at the time they persuaded
+the plaintiff to pay a sum in compromise. The jury, after a short
+deliberation, found them both guilty of fraud and conspiracy.
+
+There was some technical objection put in by the defendants’ counsel;
+but this being overruled, the judge proceeded to pass sentence. He was
+grieved to find men of the defendants’ position in society in such a
+discreditable situation. No one who had heard the evidence could doubt
+they had conspired to defraud the prosecutor of his money. He did not
+know whether he was justified in refraining from inflicting the highest
+punishment allotted to their offence, but, perhaps, the ends of justice
+might be answered by the lesser penalty. The sentence was, that the
+defendants should be imprisoned for two years.
+
+Seager, seeing how the case was latterly going, was quite prepared for
+this. Just waiting to hear the close of the judge’s address, he got out
+of court with all possible speed.
+
+He went to his lodgings, changed his dress, and hurried to Bagot’s.
+There he met Wilson with a letter in his hand which he was about to take
+to the post. Seager glanced at the direction, and then averting his eye,
+“That’s for Lady Lee,” he said—“from the Colonel, is it not?” Wilson
+said it was.
+
+“Ah,” said Seager, “I just met him, and he asked me to call for it—he
+wants to add something he forgot, before ’tis posted. Give it me.”
+
+Wilson, supposing it was all right, gave it to him. Mr Seager, chuckling
+over the dexterity with which he had obtained the letter, and thus more
+than accomplished the design of his visit to Bagot’s lodgings, which was
+to get Lady Lee’s address, drove off to his own lodgings, reassumed his
+disguise, and went straight to the station.
+
+Entering the railway office, he shrunk aside into a corner till the
+train should be ready to start—he wished to leave as few traces as
+possible behind him. He was quite unencumbered with baggage, having
+taken the precaution to send that on to Dover to await him there under a
+feigned name. As he stood aside in the shade a man passed and looked
+narrowly at him. Seager thought he recognised his face: again he passed,
+and Seager this time knew him for a police sergeant in plain clothes. He
+was rather alarmed, yet he was a little reassured by considering that
+his disguise was a safe one. But he reflected that it might have caused
+him to be taken for some other culprit, and it would be as awkward to be
+arrested as the wrong man, as in his own character.
+
+The last moment before the starting of the train was at hand, and
+Seager, as the police sergeant turned upon his walk, darted stealthily
+to the check-taker’s box and demanded a ticket, not for Frewenham, but
+for the station beyond it—for his habitual craft did not fail him.
+Having secured it, he hastened on to the platform and took his place.
+
+At the moment he took his ticket, the sergeant, missing him, turned and
+saw him. Instantly he went to the box and asked where that last
+gentleman took his ticket for, and, on being told, took one for the same
+place. The bell had rung, and he hastened out, but he was too late. The
+train was already in motion; the last object he caught sight of was
+Seager’s head thrust out of one of the carriages; and the baffled
+policeman turned back to wait for the next train.
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XLVI.
+
+Fane had spent some time in diligent pursuit of Onslow; at first with no
+great promise of success, but latterly with some certainty of being upon
+his track. Just, however, as his hopes of securing him were strongest,
+he had received a letter which had been following him for some time from
+town to town, summoning him to attend the sick-bed of his uncle, who had
+been attacked with sudden and dangerous illness.
+
+Of course he set off at once, as in duty bound; but he was surprised and
+ashamed, knowing the obligations he lay under to his relative, to notice
+how little anxiety and pain the news occasioned him. Fane was very
+honest in analysing his own emotions, and on the present occasion laid
+more blame to the account of his own nature, which he accused of
+unsympathising callousness, than it by any means deserved. He would have
+done as much to serve a friend, and was capable of as warm attachment,
+as most people, but his feelings required a congenial nature to call
+them forth. He was not one of those who wear their hearts on their
+sleeve for any daw to peck at, and had none of that incontinence of
+affability which insures a man so many acquaintances and so few friends.
+Had he been Lear’s eldest son, he would, to a certainty, have been
+disinherited, along with Cordelia, in favour of those gay deceivers,
+Goneril and Regan.
+
+Now, Mr Levitt his uncle, though naturally amiable, was an
+undemonstrative character, full of good impulses which terribly
+embarrassed him. He would read a poem or romance with the keenest
+enjoyment, yet with affected contempt, turning up his nose and screwing
+down the corners of his mouth, while his eyes were watering and his
+heart beating. He would offer two fingers to a parting friend, nod
+good-by to him slightly, and turn away, feeling as if a shadow had come
+upon his world. He had been used to write to his nephews in the spirit
+of a Roman or Spartan uncle, giving them stern advice, and sending them
+the most liberal remittances, in the most ungracious manner—throwing
+checks at their heads, as it were—while all the time he was yearning for
+their presence. In fact, he was so ashamed of his best points, and so
+anxious to conceal them, that the rigid mask wherewith he hid his
+virtues had become habitual, and he was a very sheep in wolf’s clothing.
+
+Those, however, who had known him long, rated him at his true value.
+Fane found the household in great grief. Miss Betsey, an ancient
+housekeeper, distinguished principally by strong fidelity to the family
+interests, a passion for gin-and-water, and a most extraordinary cap,
+wrung her hands with great decorum; and Mr Payne the banker, Orelia’s
+father, at the first news of his old friend’s illness, had left a great
+money transaction unfinished to rush to his bedside, where Fane found
+him on his arrival. Indeed, it was from him he had received intelligence
+of his uncle’s illness.
+
+Mr Payne’s temperament had suffered foul wrong when they made him a
+banker. He had naturally an intense dislike to matters of calculation,
+his bent being towards _belles lettres_, foreign travel, and the like
+pleasant paths. Somehow or other he had got rich, and flourished in
+spite of his want of talent for money-making. His worldly pursuits,
+perhaps, made his tastes keener, for he fell upon all manner of light
+reading with wonderful zest after a busy day at the bank. As for his
+taste for travelling, it was whispered among his acquaintances that its
+development was not so much owing to an erratic and inquiring spirit, as
+to the fact that in the second Mrs Payne he had caught a Tartar, and
+availed himself of any plausible excuse to escape from her domestic
+tyranny. Orelia, coming home from school one vacation, and finding her
+stepmother in full exercise of authority, not only, as a matter of
+course, rebelled herself, but tried to stir up her father to join in the
+mutiny. Finding him averse to open war, she proclaimed her intention
+forthwith of quitting the paternal mansion, and living in the house
+which had become hers by the death of her godmother, as before related;
+and Mr Payne, coming down on Saturdays after the bank was closed, would
+spend one-half of his weekly visit in lamenting the ill-temper of his
+spouse, and the other in his favourite studies.
+
+Fane found his uncle slowly recovering from the effects of the attack
+which had prostrated him, and by no means secure from a relapse. Mr
+Levitt caught the sound of his step on the stair, and recognised it; and
+Mr Payne, seated by the bedside, saw the invalid glance eagerly at the
+door. Nevertheless, he received his nephew almost coldly, though the
+latter testified warm interest in his state.
+
+“You’ve been some time finding me out, Durham,” said his uncle, after
+shortly answering his inquiries. “I’m afraid you’ve been summoned to
+this uninteresting scene from some more agreeable pursuit.”
+
+“It was an important one, at any rate, sir,” returned Fane; “yet even
+that did not prevent me hastening hither the moment Mr Payne’s letter
+reached me. I only got it this morning.”
+
+“An important one, hey, Durham!” said Mr Levitt, with the cynical air
+under which he was accustomed to veil his interest in his nephew’s
+proceedings. “We may judge of its importance, Payne, by his hurrying
+away from it to look after the ailments of a stupid old fellow like me.
+Some nonsense, I’ll be bound.”
+
+Mr Payne, a bald benevolent man of fifty, in spectacles, came round the
+bed to shake Fane’s hand.
+
+“Without the pleasure of knowing the Captain, I’ll answer for his
+holding you in due consideration,” said Mr Payne. “And your uncle knows
+that, too; he’s only joking,” he said to Fane.
+
+“Well, but the important business, Durham?” said the invalid, as Fane
+seated himself beside his pillow.
+
+Fane, remembering that his cousin’s was a prohibited name, and fearing
+the effect it might produce, attempted to laugh off the inquiry.
+
+“Love!” said Mr Levitt, with another cynical glance at Mr Payne, who had
+resumed his station at the other side of the bed. “A charmer for fifty
+pounds; why, I grow quite curious—don’t you, Payne? It’s exactly what
+you suggested as the cause of his delay. Come, let’s hear about
+her—begin with the eyes—that’s the rule, isn’t it?”
+
+“Wrong, sir, quite wrong,” said Fane, with another disclaiming laugh.
+
+“Poor, bashful fellow!” persisted his uncle. “But we won’t spare his
+blushes, Payne. And how far did you pursue the nymph, Durham?—and why
+did she fly you? Is she at length propitious? I hope so!—you know my
+wishes.”
+
+“There’s no lady in the case, sir, I assure you,” said Fane earnestly.
+
+“Ah! it’s always the way with your sensitive lovers,” pursued his
+questioner, addressing Mr Payne. “They’re as shy of the subject which
+occupies their thoughts as if they didn’t like it. Come, if you’re
+afraid to speak out before my friend Payne (though I’m sure you needn’t
+be—he’s discretion itself), he’ll go away, I daresay. What is she like?
+and when is it to be?”
+
+“When is what to be, sir?” asked Fane, trying to humour the old
+gentleman, but getting impatient, nevertheless.
+
+“Why, the wedding, of course. Seriously, Durham, I’m all impatience.
+Your last letter seemed to point at something of the kind; and it was
+written long enough ago to have settled half-a-dozen love affairs since.
+I’m more earnest than ever on the subject, now that my admonitions seem
+likely to be cut short; and this matrimony question may affect the
+dispositions of my will, Durham.”
+
+“Consider it settled, then, I beg, sir,” said Fane seriously. “I shall
+never marry.”
+
+“I shall be sorry to find you serious, Durham. A bachelor’s life is but
+a dreary one. Just look at the difference between me and my friend
+Payne—he is rosy and happy, and, if he were lying here, he would have
+quite a family meeting assembled round him—while I should be alone, but
+for a nephew who has no great reason to care about me, and a friend
+whose good-nature brings him to see what may, perhaps, be the last of an
+old acquaintance. My opinions on the subject I’ve so often spoken to you
+of, haven’t changed, you see, in the least—and perhaps I shall act upon
+them.”
+
+“As you please, sir,” said Fane. “I speak my deliberate thought when I
+say I don’t intend to marry.”
+
+Here Miss Betsey tapt at the door, to say that Mr Durham’s supper was
+ready.
+
+“Go down with him, Payne,” said Mr Levitt. “I’ll go on with this story
+here—a silly thing; but sick people mustn’t be too critical.”
+
+“An excellent novel!” exclaimed Mr Payne—“full of feeling.”
+
+“Ay, ay, well enough for that kind of trumpery,” said the invalid, who
+was secretly burning to know how the hero and heroine were to be brought
+together through such a sea of difficulties; and his friend and his
+nephew, after making a few arrangements for his comfort, went down
+stairs together.
+
+Fane dismissed the servant who waited at table. He wished to open what
+he intended to be, and what proved, a very interesting conversation.
+
+“You’re a very old friend of my uncle’s, Mr Payne,” he said. “I’ve so
+often heard him speak of you, that I seem almost familiar with you,
+though this is our first meeting.”
+
+“A school friendship,” said Mr Payne; “and it has continued unbroken
+ever since.”
+
+“I will tell you,” said Fane, “what the pursuit was I was really engaged
+in, and you will perceive I could not mention it to my uncle. The fact
+is, I believe I was on the point of discovering my cousin Langley.”
+
+Mr Payne dropt his knife and fork, and leant back in his chair. “You
+don’t say so!” cried he. “Poor Langley—poor, poor Langley!”
+
+Fane told the grounds he had for suspecting Langley and the ex-dragoon
+Onslow to be one and the same person.
+
+“Following some faint traces,” said Fane, “I reached a town where,
+exposed for sale in a shop window, I saw some drawings which I
+recognised for his. You know his gift that way.”
+
+“Ay, a first-rate draughtsman, poor fellow,” said Mr Payne.
+
+“He had sold these for a trifle far below their value, and, as I found,
+had left the town only the day before. I therefore felt secure of him
+when your letter diverted me from the pursuit.”
+
+“Poor Langley!” repeated the sympathetic Mr Payne. “Such a clever
+fellow! Draw, sir! he had the making of half-a-dozen academicians in
+him—and ride!—but you’ve seen him ride, of course. And such an
+actor!—nothing like him off the London boards, and not many on them
+equal to him, in my opinion. And to end that way, I don’t know if I
+should like to see him again.”
+
+“You can perhaps enlighten me on a point I’ve long been curious about,”
+said Fane. “I mean the real cause of my uncle’s displeasure towards
+him—the extravagance attributed to Langley doesn’t sufficiently account
+for it.”
+
+“No,” said Mr Payne, “your uncle would have forgiven that readily
+enough. He pretended, as his way is, to be angrier at it than he was.
+But the real cause of estrangement was more serious.
+
+“Your uncle finding, by his frequent applications for money, that
+accounts which had reached him of Langley’s gambling were but too true,
+at length replied to a request for a hundred pounds by enclosing a check
+to that amount, at the same time saying it was the last he must expect,
+and expressing his displeasure very harshly. The check was brought to
+our bank the next day, and it was not till after it had been cashed that
+it was suspected that the original amount, both in words and figures,
+had been altered. Four hundred pounds it now stood, and that sum had
+been paid on it. The 1 had easily been made into a 4, and the words
+altered to correspond—neatly enough, but not so like your uncle’s as to
+pass with a close scrutiny. While we were examining it, your uncle came
+in, his anxiety on Langley’s account having brought him to town. He took
+the check, looked at it, and then drew me aside. ‘’Tis forged,’ said he;
+‘mine was for a hundred: but not a word of this, Payne—let it pass as
+regular—tell the clerks ’tis all right.’ This was a terrible blow to
+him. From that day to this we have heard nothing of Langley, nor does
+your uncle ever mention his name; and no one but an intimate friend like
+me would guess how much he felt the dishonour.”
+
+“But Langley must have known ’twould be discovered immediately,” said
+Fane, who listened with deep attention.
+
+“Ay—but meantime his end was answered. The money was paid, and he
+doubtless calculated that your uncle would rather lose the sum than
+suffer the disgrace of exposure—and he was right.”
+
+“I can’t believe him guilty,” said Fane.
+
+“He must have been severely tempted, poor boy,” said Mr Payne—“always so
+open and upright; but there can, I’m afraid, be no doubt of his guilt.
+Consider, he has never showed his face since.”
+
+Fane thought for a minute or two. “No,” he said—“no, not guilty, I hope
+and believe. No guilty man could have borne himself as he has done
+since. But there is now more reason than ever for resuming my search for
+him. Yes, yes—I must see and question him myself.”
+
+“Where do you believe him to be?” asked Mr Payne.
+
+“I traced him to Frewenham, in ——shire,” answered Fane.
+
+“Frewenham! God bless me! Why, my daughter’s place, Larches, is close to
+that. I’m going down there in a day or two to see Orelia.”
+
+“Orelia!” exclaimed Fane; “then Miss Payne is your daughter.”
+
+“Oh, you have met, then, perhaps?” said Mr Payne, with interest; “where
+and when?”
+
+“At the Heronry,” said Fane. “My troop is at Doddington, the town
+nearest to where Miss Payne was staying.”
+
+“Oh, ho! this is fortunate,” said Mr Payne. “As soon as your uncle gets
+better, we will go down together to Frewenham. My friend Levitt,” he
+resumed presently, “is, I see, much disappointed to find his surmises as
+to your matrimonial prospects incorrect. He had set his heart on their
+fulfilment; and some expressions of admiration for some lady, in a late
+letter of yours, prepared him to expect something of the kind.”
+
+Fane coloured deeply. He remembered, indeed, that, writing to his uncle
+one evening, after a delightful afternoon passed with Lady Lee, he had
+suffered his admiration to overflow in expressions which, though they
+seemed to him slight compared with the merits of the subject, were yet,
+perhaps, sufficiently warm to warrant his uncle’s inferences. It was
+some comfort to remember that he had not mentioned her name in this
+premature effusion.
+
+“My uncle seems to have quite a monomania on the subject of my becoming
+a Benedict,” he said presently, by way of breaking an awkward silence.
+“His doctrine would have seemed more consistent had he inculcated it by
+example as well as by precept. One doesn’t often see a more determined
+bachelor.”
+
+“A love affair was the turning-point of your uncle’s life,” said Mr
+Payne. “He knows and feels that a different, and how much happier man he
+might have been, but for an early disappointment, and that makes him so
+desirous to see you comfortably established.”
+
+“Now, do you know,” said Fane, “I can’t, by any effort of imagination,
+fancy my uncle in love. His proposals, if he ever reached that point,
+must have been conveyed in an epigram.”
+
+“Your uncle is a good deal changed, in every respect, within the last
+few years, especially since that sad business of poor Langley,” said Mr
+Payne; “but I scarcely recognise in him now my old (or rather, I should
+say, my young) friend Levitt. However, you may take my word for it,
+Captain Durham, that your uncle knew what it was, some five-and-twenty
+years ago, to be desperately in love. He seemed, too, to be progressing
+favourably with the object of his affections, till a gay young captain
+in the Guards turned her head with his attentions—Captain, afterwards
+Colonel Lee.”
+
+“What! Bagot!” said Fane.
+
+“Ah, you know him, then,” said Mr Payne; “then you also know it was no
+great alleviation to your uncle’s disappointment to find a man like
+Colonel Lee preferred to him. Lee, it seems, had no serious intentions,
+and jilted her—and your uncle disdained to renew his suit.”
+
+This account seemed to Fane to throw a good deal of light upon parts of
+his uncle’s character which he had hitherto been unable to fathom.
+
+“Yes,” resumed Mr Payne, “yes; your uncle is a great advocate for
+marriage, and certainly ’tis all very well in its way, though, perhaps,”
+he added dubiously, in an under tone, to himself—“perhaps it may be done
+once too often.”
+
+Here Mr Payne left Durham while he went up-stairs to visit his sick
+friend, and presently returned to say he had found him asleep, and
+thought he had better not be disturbed again. Shortly afterwards,
+finding Durham more disposed to ruminate over what he had heard than to
+converse, he bid him good night, and went to bed.
+
+Fane’s meditations were interrupted by Miss Betsey, who came in, not
+altogether free from an odour of gin-and-water, to express her
+gratification at seeing him well. Miss Betsey was a thin old lady, with
+an unsteady eye, and a nose streaked with little veins, like a
+schoolboy’s marble. She wore on her head the most wonderful structure,
+in the shape of a cap, ever seen. It was a kind of tower of muslin,
+consisting of several stories ornamented with ribbons, and was fastened
+under her chin with a broad band like a helmet. Her aged arms protruded
+through her sleeves, which were tight as far as the elbow, and sloped
+out wider till they terminated half-way to her wrist, where a pair of
+black mittens commenced.
+
+“Your dear uncle’s been bad, indeed,” said Miss Betsey, taking a pinch
+of snuff. “I a’most thought we should have lost him, Mr Durham; but he’s
+better now, poor dear. But there’s no knowing what might happen yet,”
+said Miss Betsey, shaking her head; “and I’ve had a thought concerning
+you, and him, and another, Mr Durham.” Here Miss Betsey closed her
+snuff-box—which was round, black, and shining, and held about a quarter
+of a pound of princes’ mixture—and, putting it in her ample pocket, laid
+the hand not occupied with snuff on Fane’s shoulder with amiable
+frankness, which gin-and-water generates in old ladies. “Mr Durham, your
+dear uncle’s never forgot your cousin, Master Langley—and ’twould be a
+grievious thing if he was to leave us” (a mild form of hinting at Mr
+Levitt’s decease) “without forgiving him. Couldn’t you put in a word, Mr
+Durham, for your dear cousin?”
+
+“The very thing I intend, Miss Betsey,” returned Fane, “as soon as it
+can be done effectually.”
+
+“Ah, Mr Durham,” the old lady went on, waxing more confidential, “your
+dear uncle’s fond of you, and well he may be, but you’re not to him what
+Master Langley was;—no,” repeated the old lady, shaking her forefinger,
+and looking sideways at him, “not what Master Langley was; and your dear
+uncle’s never been like the same man since that poor dear boy left us.”
+
+“You seem to be quite as fond of him as my uncle ever could have been,
+Miss Betsey,” Fane remarked.
+
+“Fond!” said Miss Betsey, “who wasn’t? He had that coaxing way with him
+that he could”—she completed the sentence by flourishing her forefinger
+in the air, as if turning an imaginary person round it. “Everybody was
+fond of him;—the maids (the pretty ones in particular) was a’most too
+fond of him—so much so, that it rather interfered with their work.”
+
+Fane’s smile at this proof of his cousin’s irresistibility called forth
+a playful tap on the shoulder from the old virgin, who presently
+afterwards dived down into her pocket for her snuff-box, and, screwing
+off the lid, which creaked like the axle of a stage waggon, stimulated
+her reminiscences with a pinch.
+
+“Well-a-day! your uncle’s never been the same man since. You don’t know,
+perhaps” (whispering in a tone that fanned Fane’s cheek with a zephyr
+combined of gin-and-water and princes’ mixture), “that he keeps Master
+Langley’s room locked up the same as the poor boy last left it, do you?
+There now, I said so,” giving him a gentle slap on the back, and
+retreating a pace, as he answered in the negative; “for all you lived
+here weeks together, on and off, you never knew that. Come with me,”
+added the old lady; “I’ve got the key, and we’ll go in there together.”
+
+Fane willingly followed her, taking deep interest in all fragments of
+his cousin’s history. Arriving at the door of a room looking out on the
+lawn, Miss Betsey stopped, and, after some protracted fumbling at the
+keyhole, opened it. “Once or twice, when he thought nobody was watching
+him, I’ve seen your uncle coming out of this door with tears in his
+blessed eyes,” said she, as she entered, preceding him with the candle.
+
+The rooms were, as Miss Betsey had said, just as their former occupant
+had left them. The pieces of a fishing-rod, with their bag lying beside
+them, were scattered on the table, together with hackles, coloured
+worsteds, peacocks’ herls, and other materials for fly-making. An open
+book was on the window-seat, and an unfinished sketch in oils stood on
+an easel.
+
+“There,” said Miss Betsey, holding the candle up to a painting over the
+mantelpiece, “there you see the dear fellow taking a leap that none of
+the others would face. Your uncle was so proud of that deed that he got
+it painted, as you see—and a pretty penny it cost him. There were other
+likenesses of him here, but your uncle put ’em all away before you came
+from Indy.”
+
+Fane approached to look at the picture, which set at rest any
+uncertainty that might remain as to his cousin’s identity with the
+rough-riding corporal. There was the same handsome face, only younger,
+and without the mustache. The same gay air and easy seat that
+distinguished the dragoon Onslow on horseback appeared in the sportsman
+there represented, who rode a gallant bay at a formidable brook, with a
+rail on the farther side. The work was highly artistic, being the
+production of a famous animal-painter.
+
+At this stage of the proceedings Miss Betsey’s feelings seemed to
+overpower her. She wept copiously, and even hiccupped with emotion; and,
+setting the candle on the table, abruptly retired.
+
+Fane lingered round the room, looking at the backs of the books, and
+turning over portfolios of drawings, which would, of themselves, have
+identified the hand that produced them with Onslow’s, as exhibited in
+the sketch-book of Orelia. Among these was a coloured drawing of his
+uncle—a good likeness—and another of the artist himself. Fane, looking
+at the bold frank lineaments, internally pronounced it impossible that
+their possessor could have been guilty of the mean and criminal action
+imputed to him. He pictured to himself, and contrasted his cousin’s
+condition before he lost his uncle’s favour, with his life as a soldier,
+and decided it to be contrary to experience that any one could, under
+such a startling change of circumstances, have behaved so well, had he
+been conscious of guilt.
+
+After some time spent in these and similar meditations, suggested by the
+objects around him, he went out and locked the door. Passing the
+housekeeper’s room, he went in to leave the key. Miss Betsey appeared to
+have been soothing her emotions with more gin-and-water, for she sat
+still in her elbow-chair, with her wonderful structure of cap fallen
+over one eye, in a manner that rather impaired her dignity, while she
+winked the remaining one at him with a somewhat imbecile smile.
+
+“Come, Miss Betsey,” said Fane, “let me see you to bed.”
+
+Miss Betsey rose, and, taking his offered arm, they proceeded slowly
+along the passage together. “By Jove,” thought Fane, “if those
+youngsters, Bruce and Oates, could see me now, what a story they’d make
+of it!”
+
+“You must make haste and get a wife, Mr Durham,” said Miss Betsey, whose
+thoughts seemed to be taking a tender hue—“though, to be sure, you’re
+not such a one for the ladies as Mr Langley was”—and here the old lady
+commenced the relation of an anecdote, in which a certain housemaid,
+whom she stigmatised as a hussy, bore a prominent part, but which we
+will not rescue from the obscurity in which her somewhat indistinct
+utterance veiled it.
+
+Fane opened the old lady’s bedroom door, and, putting the candle on the
+table, left her, not without a misgiving that she might possibly set
+fire to her cap, and consequently to the ceiling. This fear impressed
+him so much that he went back and removed it from her head, and with it
+a row of magnificent brown curls, which formed its basis, and,
+depositing the edifice, not without wonder, on the drawers, he wished
+her good night, and retreated; but, hearing her door open when he had
+got half-way along the passage, he looked back, and saw Miss Betsey’s
+head, deprived of the meretricious advantages of hair, gauze, and
+ribbon, protruded shiningly into the passage, as she smiled, with the
+utmost blandness, a supplementary good night.
+
+
+
+
+                            CORAL RINGS.[5]
+
+
+Montgomery’s well-known lines in praise of the coral polyps have given
+these animals a tolerable share of poetical celebrity. Mr Darwin’s
+ingenious researches have invested them with a degree of importance
+which elevates them to the rank of a great geological power. These
+minute creatures are now entitled to a larger share of consideration
+than the greatest and most skilful of quadrupeds can claim. All the
+elephants and lions which have been quartered in this world since its
+creation—all the whales and sharks which have prowled about in its
+waters—have done much less to affect its physical features, and have
+left far slighter evidences of their existence, than the zoophytes by
+whose labours the coral formations have been reared. For the most
+colossal specimens of industry we are indebted to one of the least
+promising of animated things. Comparing their humble organisation with
+that of other tribes, we feel pretty much the same sort of surprise as a
+man might express were he told that the pyramids and temples of
+antiquity had not been constructed by Egyptians or Romans, but by a race
+like the Earthmen of Africa, or by a set of pigmies like the Aztecs now
+exhibiting in London.
+
+Though the works now before us have been long in the hands of the
+public, the substance of their contents is far from being generally
+known. Yet the beauty of the results at which their authors have
+arrived, and the interest with which they have invested the coral reefs,
+may well recommend these volumes to universal perusal. While Dana, more
+than all his predecessors, has illustrated the natural history of the
+little gelatinous creatures by which the coral is secreted, Darwin has
+described the growth and consolidation of their labours into lofty and
+extended reefs, and connected these with the broadest and most striking
+phenomena of physical geology. The toiling of the minute zoophytes in
+the production of vast masses of coral rock which wall round whole
+islands, and stretch their mural barriers across deep and stormy seas,
+he has shown to be successful only through the conjoined operation of
+those wonderful physical forces which are now lifting and now lowering
+large areas of the earth’s surface.
+
+Mr Darwin’s views not only exhibit a charming sample of scientific
+induction, but carry with them such an air of probability, that the most
+cautious investigators may subscribe to them without any particular
+demur. Being the result of very extensive inquiries, and confirmed by
+collating the peculiarities of many reefs, they are grounded upon a
+sufficient quantity of data to entitle them to reasonable confidence. We
+propose, in the present article, to indicate some of the principle steps
+in the theory which this gentleman has propounded; and that the reader
+may examine them consecutively, we shall imagine an intelligent voyager
+visiting the Pacific for the first occasion in his life. As he sails
+across that noble sheet of water, observing with a philosophic eye every
+object which presents itself to his view, he suddenly perceives in the
+midst of the sea a long low range of rock against which the surf is
+breaking with a tremendous roar. He is told that this is a coral reef;
+and having read a little respecting these curious productions, he
+resolves to investigate them carefully, in order to fathom, as far as
+possible, the mystery of their origin. As he approaches, the spectacle
+grows more interesting at every step. Trees seem to start up from the
+bosom of the ocean, and to flourish on a beach which is strewed with
+glistening sand, and washed by the spray of enormous billows. When
+sufficiently near to survey the phenomenon as a whole, he perceives that
+he has before him an extensive ring of stone, set in an expanse of
+waters, and exhibiting the singular form of an annular island. Launching
+a boat, and following the curve of the shore for some distance, he finds
+at length an opening through which he penetrates into the interior of
+the ring. Once entered, he floats smoothly on a transparent lake of
+bright green water, which seems to have been walled in from the rest of
+the ocean, as if it were a preserve for some sort of nautical game, or a
+retreat for the more delicate class of marine divinities. Its bed is
+partially covered with pure white sand, but partly also with a gay
+growth of coral—the stems of this zoophyte branching out like a plant,
+and exhibiting the most brilliant diversities of colour, so that the
+floor of the lake glows like a sunken grove. All the hues of the
+spectrum may be seen gleaming below, whilst fishes scarcely less
+splendid in their tints glide to and fro in search of food amidst this
+shrubbery of stone. A fringe of trees, consisting principally of
+graceful palms, decorates the inner portion of the ring, and when
+surveyed from the centre of the lagoon, this edging of verdure springing
+up in the midst of the Pacific presents one of the most picturesque
+sights the voyager can conceive. Indeed, as he contemplates the tranquil
+lake within, and listens to the dash of the surf without—as he runs over
+the features of this beautiful oasis in the wilderness of waters, we may
+pardon him if he almost expects to be accosted by ocean nymphs or
+startled mermaids, and indignantly expelled from their private retreat.
+
+The whole structure is so striking, that the most careless observer must
+feel some little curiosity to ascertain its origin. Our voyager regards
+it with much the same sort of interest as an intelligent wanderer would
+display, were he to stumble upon a ring of blocks like those at Abury or
+Stonehenge in some distant desert. In order to pursue his inquiries
+systematically, he proceeds to note down the principal characteristics
+of the scene. The first peculiarity which arrests his consideration, is
+the circular form which the rock assumes. Though far from constituting a
+smooth and perfect ring, its outline is sufficiently definite to rivet
+the attention at once. Then he observes that the outer portion of the
+annulus scarcely rises above the level of the sea, whilst the inner
+portion—the bank on which the belt of trees is mounted—is not more than
+ten or twelve feet in height at the utmost. From this he infers that the
+agency concerned in the formation of the structure was probably
+restricted in its upward range. Next he notices that the ring
+itself—that is, the wall of rock enveloping the lake, though by no means
+uniform in breadth—is not more, perhaps, than three or four hundred
+yards across in any part of its extent: this seems to say, that the
+agency was also restrained by circumstances in its lateral expansion.
+Again, as he runs his eye along the whole sweep of the reef, he remarks
+that it is not quite continuous, the ring being broken here and there by
+openings, through one of which he himself passed into the lagoon. If he
+then endeavours to estimate the size of the whole formation with its
+included lake, he may find it in this particular case to be eight or ten
+miles in circumference. Should he stoop down to examine the material of
+which the reef is composed, he will discover it to be dead coral rock
+mixed with sand where it is not washed by the sea; but on breaking off a
+fragment where it is covered with water, he may observe multitudes of
+little worms, or curiously shaped polyps, which, incompetent as they
+seem, are in reality the architects of the pile. But perhaps the most
+significant circumstance to be noticed is the difference in depth
+between the internal lagoon and the external ocean. If he takes
+soundings within the reef, he ascertains that the water is comparatively
+shallow, the slope of the rock beneath the lake being tolerably gentle,
+and the depth rarely more than thirty or forty fathoms. Let him cross
+the ring, however, pushing his way through the belt of trees; and on
+trying the experiment in the contrary direction, seawards, he finds that
+the ground shelves downwards gradually under the water, until it reaches
+a depth of five-and-twenty fathoms, after which it plunges precipitously
+into the abyss. So abrupt, indeed, does the descent become when this
+point has been attained, that at the distance of a hundred yards from
+the reef he cannot reach the bottom of the sea with a line of two
+hundred fathoms. If, then, our explorer were capable of existing under
+water for a while, and could be lowered to the bed of the ocean, he
+would see before him an enormous cone or mound of rock shooting upwards
+through the liquid to a prodigious height, its summit being hollowed
+into a kind of cup or shallow basin, the rim of this lofty vase just
+peering above the level of the waves, and its interior being partially
+inlaid with a gorgeous and flower-like growth of coral.
+
+Now, without glancing at minor details, it must be admitted that our
+voyager has stumbled upon a fine physical problem. As the Round Towers
+of Ireland have constituted one of the most perplexing questions on
+shore, so these coral towers of the tropics seem to present an equally
+perplexing mystery for the sea. In the course of his researches,
+however, he detects a circumstance which appears to be perfectly
+paradoxical. Climbing the cliff from the bottom of the ocean, he
+perceives that the creatures which produce the coral cannot exist at any
+greater depths below the surface than from twenty to five-and-twenty
+fathoms. Within that limit, upwards, the rock is covered with life;
+below, it is tenantless and dead. Yet, descending as the structure of
+coral does to immeasurably greater depths, the question naturally
+arises—how could the animal ever toil where it cannot even live? How has
+that part of the edifice, which lies buried in a region where no sunbeam
+ever pierces, been built by architects whose range of activity is
+comparatively so restricted?
+
+Brooding over an inquiry, which only adds fuel to his curiosity, he
+proceeds on his cruise. He has already noted the prominent features of
+one particular reef, which exhibits a coral construction in its simplest
+shape—namely, as a ring enclosing a lagoon. He now falls in with
+specimen after specimen of a similar class, and carefully observes the
+differences in character they present. In point of shape, he finds that
+some are oval, others greatly elongated, and many very jagged and
+irregular in their form. Here is one like a bow, and there another like
+a horse shoe, whilst none can be said to be geometrically round. In
+regard to size, he meets with reefs which are a single mile only in
+diameter, and then with others, which amount to as many as fifty, sixty,
+or even more. If he compares the various rings, he observes that some
+are perforated by few openings, and in rare cases there are none—the
+fissures having apparently been filled up with sand or detritus, so as
+to form a continuous girdle round the lake. But, in other instances, the
+reef is so freely intersected by these openings, that the ring itself
+may be said to consist of a series of small islands arranged upon an
+extensive curve. In general, however, he perceives that the channels
+connecting the ocean with the lagoon are confined more especially to
+that side of the structure which is least exposed to the action of the
+wind; and as he is sailing within the region of the trade-winds, the
+portion of the reef which fronts the breeze and the billow perpetually,
+appears to be more lofty and substantial than the other. Glancing, too,
+at the bank which carries the fringe of trees, he observes that it never
+seems to rise higher than a certain level in any case whatever; and as
+he finds that it consists chiefly of sand and sediment, he concludes
+that it has been heaped up by the waves themselves. The vegetation,
+indeed, which frequently gives such a gay and graceful aspect to coral
+rocks, does not always gladden the eye; but where it is wanting, he
+infers that the circumstances which favour the dissemination of seeds or
+the growth of plants, have failed to operate as yet, but may, perhaps,
+in process of time produce their accustomed effects. Comparing also the
+depth of the lagoons with that of the surrounding ocean, he ascertains
+that the striking discrepancy which attracted his attention in the first
+reef he examined, obtains to a considerable degree in every subsequent
+instance: however shallow the sea may be within the ring, its depth
+rapidly increases, and frequently becomes quite unfathomable at no great
+distance without. Finding, then, that though certain differences exist
+in the formations he has already inspected, yet certain general features
+of resemblance invariably prevail, he concludes that all of these
+structures are due to the operation of a kindred agency. But here there
+arises another perplexing question. If he must admit—and the admission
+is inevitable—that the coral polyps have been the builders of these
+piles, how can he suppose that a number of small animals, each labouring
+separately, as it were, could erect an immense wall of rock, leagues in
+circumference, which, though far from regular in its composition, shall
+yet exhibit any marked approach to a circle, an oval, a horse shoe, or
+any other symmetrical form? Still more, how could they build, not one,
+but innumerable reefs, differing in various particulars, but all
+indicating some common principle of construction? How is he to explain
+the appearance of co-operation, where, from the nature of the creatures,
+he cannot imagine any intentional co-operation to exist? A troop of
+moles working beneath a field will never cast up a succession of
+hillocks in such a way that they will all combine to form a spacious
+circle, or any other regular and definite figure. If, therefore, he is
+compelled to believe that a number of insignificant creatures like the
+coral polyps are capable of executing such prodigious undertakings,
+wanting, as they do, the intelligence which enables higher beings to
+carry out a coherent scheme, he must look for an explanation, not in the
+_instincts_ of the animals, but in the _conditions_ under which they
+pursue their toils.
+
+Hitherto, however, our voyager has only encountered reefs of one
+class—namely, “atolls,” or lagoon islands. He looks anxiously,
+therefore, in the hope of falling in with a specimen of a different
+description. He knows that if a process is too slow in its action to
+admit of direct observation, yet its character may probably be
+ascertained by comparing several cases where the same agency is
+employed—that is, by criticising the phenomenon in distinct stages of
+development. He proceeds on his voyage, and at length is fortunate
+enough to meet with a coral formation which varies in type from those
+already inspected. There is the same sort of ring springing hastily from
+the sea; but instead of an internal lagoon, the central space is
+occupied by a beautiful and populous island, leaving only a belt of
+water between the reef and the shore. Where all the elements of such a
+scene are sufficiently defined, a more charming spectacle can hardly be
+conceived. The land appears like a pleasant picture framed in coral.
+Round a group of mountains, forming the nucleus of the isle, there runs
+a verdant zone of soil—next comes a girdle of tranquil water—then a ring
+of coral—and last, a band of snowy breakers, where the swell of the
+ocean is shattered into surf. The island of Tahiti, whose mountains rise
+to the height of seven thousand feet, and whose greatest breadth is
+about thirty-six miles, is almost encompassed by a reef of this
+description. When this spot is approached so as to make the separate
+objects visible, the appearance becomes quite striking. “Even upon the
+steep surface of the cliff, vegetation abounds; the belt of low land is
+covered with the tropical trees peculiar to Polynesia, while the high
+peaks and wall-faced mountains in the rear are covered with vines and
+creeping plants. This verdure is seen to rise from a quiet girdle of
+water, which is again surrounded by a line of breakers dashing in
+snow-white foam on the encircling reefs of coral.”[6] Perhaps, however,
+the descent of the waves upon the ring—curling and chafing like coursers
+suddenly curbed—constitutes the most magnificent feature of the scene.
+“The long rolling billows of the Pacific, arrested by this natural
+barrier, often rise ten, twelve, or fourteen feet above its surface, and
+then, bending over it, their foaming tops form a graceful liquid arch,
+glittering in the rays of a tropical sun, as if studded with brilliants;
+but before the eyes of the spectator can follow the splendid aqueous
+gallery which they appear to have reared, with loud and hollow roar they
+fall in magnificent desolation, and spread the gigantic fabric in froth
+and spray upon the horizontal and gently broken surface of the
+coral.”[7]
+
+With a reef like this before him our explorer may now collect some
+additional data which will help him a few steps onward in his inquiry.
+The distinction between a formation of this class and those of the
+former description, consists principally in the substitution of an
+internal island for a lagoon. Were that island pared away or dug out, a
+simple lake surrounded by a ring of coral rock would be left. The one
+structure would pass into the other by the erasure of the central land.
+But here again he has stumbled over a difficulty apparently as great as
+any he has previously encountered; for it would be preposterous to
+suppose that large areas or lofty hills could be readily expunged from
+the surface of the earth. There is a stage, however—call it rather a
+pause—in the reasoning process, when the great master of inductive logic
+recommends that, after having arranged all our available facts, and
+extracted from them all the inferences they can legitimately supply, we
+should allow the mind to take a little leap forward, just by way of
+venture, and see what conclusions it will suggest. In short, we are to
+send for the imagination, yoke it to the materials we have accumulated,
+and observe in what direction it will conduct us. Our explorer does
+this. He sets that faculty to work—with due discretion, however—and in a
+short time it hints to him that islands may possibly _sink down slowly_
+in the ocean by the action of the subterranean forces. And if so, would
+not that explain everything?
+
+He proceeds, therefore, to inquire how this supposition will work; for
+there are many conditions which it must satisfy, and many puzzles which
+it must solve, before its probability can be affirmed. In the first
+place, the coral polyps, as we have seen, can only operate within a
+limited depth of water, which has been roughly fixed at twenty or
+five-and-twenty fathoms. Mr Dana, indeed, considers that sixteen fathoms
+will perhaps measure the whole extent of the region assigned to the
+principal artificers. Consequently, when the creatures laid the
+foundation of any particular reef, they must have done so in shoal
+water, or in the neighbourhood of land. Next, where a small isle issues
+from a profound sea, it will in general be tolerably regular in shape;
+because, with relation to the bed of that sea, it must in reality be a
+kind of mountain: therefore, as the coral builders find the requisite
+range of water in the zone which encircles the shore, the reef they form
+will be tolerably regular too. Hence the circular or curvilinear outline
+which these structures generally assume. Then, if, after the basement of
+such a ring has been laid, the land should begin to descend slowly, the
+polyps must proceed to raise the edifice storey after storey, for thus
+alone can they keep themselves within the region of vitality; and here
+we have an explanation of the singular fact, that the reef, where it
+constitutes a true atoll, or coral-lagoon, usually ascends to the level
+of the sea. A singular fact we call it; because, if we consider how
+variable are the heights of any series of mountains on land, the
+equality of stature which distinguishes these marine elevations is
+certainly a remarkable result. If it were possible for some great giant
+to run the palm of his hand along the tops of the Andes or Himalayas, it
+would describe a very irregular sweep, rising or falling with every peak
+it visited; but were he to draw it over the summits of a succession of
+atolls, though these might stretch through a space thousands of miles in
+length, he would scarcely perceive any difference whatever in point of
+altitude. It will be seen, therefore, that the uniformity characterising
+these Alps of the ocean is a circumstance which our explorer’s
+hypothesis readily solves. But in raising their embankment higher, it is
+clear that the animals must build up vertically, and hence the abrupt or
+precipitous face which it presents externally towards the deep water.
+Landwards, again—that is, within the reef—the pigmy architects will
+labour more feebly, because it is found that the kind of polyps which
+exist in smooth still water are more delicate in their productions than
+their gallant little brethren who flourish amongst the breakers. This
+serves to explain, again, why there is an interval of fluid left between
+the rising reef and the sinking shore; but as the land subsides, the
+space which it occupies within the magic ring will obviously diminish,
+whilst the space covered by water will proportionately increase. The
+girdle of coral will not maintain its original dimensions, because the
+polyps will probably incline inwards, instead of building directly
+upwards; but the contraction of the ring will proceed slowly, because
+the wall is invariably steep seawards, even if it should not be
+altogether precipitous. Finally, when the island is fairly drowned, when
+we have got its whole body well under water, we shall have an enormous
+mass of coral raised by successive additions of coral skeletons, and
+resting upon a basis which may be hundreds of feet below the level of
+the sea. A zone of rock, constituting the rim of the structure, will
+just show itself above the waves, whilst within this zone sleeps a
+shallow lake, where the polyps, for various reasons, have not followed
+the growth of the ring with equal rapidity, or where the sediment
+deposited has not accumulated in sufficient quantities to fill up the
+interior. And when the lake is obliterated, as ultimately it may be,
+either by the labours of the feebler animals, or by the deposition of
+detritus from the reef, we shall have the platform of a new country
+where tropical forests may some day flourish, where towns and villages
+may hereafter arise, and where man may exhibit the strange and mingled
+play of virtue and vice, which has marked his footsteps from the first.
+“The calcareous sand lies undisturbed, and offers, to the seeds of trees
+and plants cast upon it by the waves, a soil upon which they rapidly
+grow, to overshadow its dazzling white surface. Entire trunks of trees,
+which are carried by the rivers from other countries and islands, find
+here, at length, a resting-place, after many wanderings: with these come
+some small animals, such as insects and lizards, as the first
+inhabitants. Even before the trees form a wood, the sea-birds nestle
+here; stray land-birds take refuge in the bushes; and at a much later
+period, when the work has been long since completed, man appears, and
+builds his hut on the fruitful soil.”[8]
+
+Thus, it will be seen that the supposition of a slow descent of the land
+appears to meet the prominent requirements of the case; and however
+startling the assumption might seem when first suggested, yet the
+pressure of certain conditions, which this theory alone can sustain,
+renders its adoption almost, if not altogether, inevitable. But, says
+the explorer, if this hypothesis be correct, it should follow that, as
+the sinking isle may vary in altitude in different parts—as it may have
+several peaks or elevated districts—all these higher portions must be
+left projecting out of the water for some time after the lower lands
+have been entirely submerged. Accordingly, we may expect to discover
+coral reefs, containing within their circuit several small islands, the
+relics of some larger district which has died a watery death. And this
+is just what frequently occurs. The two isles of Raiatea and Tahaa, for
+example, are included in one reef. The group known as Gambier’s Islands
+consists of four large and a few smaller islets encircled by a single
+ring. The reef of Hogoleu, which is one hundred and thirty-five miles in
+circuit, contains ten or eleven islands in its spacious lagoon.
+
+So, again, says our explorer, as islands are frequently arranged in
+clusters, it should follow that, if the areas whereon any of these
+groups were stationed, have subsided, whole _archipelagoes_ of coral
+reefs ought to exist. And some of these archipelagoes may be expected to
+exhibit a series of perfect lagoons, where the land has been fairly
+submerged; whilst others, where the process is less advanced, or the
+ground more elevated, ought to present a series of reef-encircled
+islands merely. Here also the theory is fully corroborated by facts. Low
+Archipelago is composed of about eighty atolls; and of the thirty-two
+groups examined by Captain Beechy, twenty-nine then possessed the
+internal lakes which we have seen are characteristic of this class; the
+remaining three having passed, as he believed, from the same condition
+originally to the dignity of closed or consolidated reefs. The Society
+Archipelago, again, consists of tolerably elevated islands, encircled by
+coral ledges, and lying in a direction almost parallel to the last.
+
+Indeed, it will be readily imagined that the shape and character of the
+coral formations must be considerably influenced by the nature of the
+site upon which they are reared. They will assume different aspects
+according to the physical configuration of the land to be entombed. They
+must be interrupted where the water is too deep, or the shore too
+precipitous to permit the artificers to acquire a proper footing. They
+will exhibit breaches where the descent of cold streams from the
+mountain heights, or the presence of mud carried down by rivers,
+rendered it impracticable for the creatures to pursue their avocations.
+They may also adopt peculiar forms where the lowering of the ground may
+not have taken place gradually, or where, from some eccentric action of
+the subterranean force, one portion may have sunk under different
+circumstances from the rest. A reef may, therefore, be submerged in
+part, or, as in some instances, throughout its whole extent. Thus, in
+the Peros Banhos Atoll, forming a member of the Chagos group in the
+Indian Ocean, a portion of the ring dips under water for a distance of
+about nine miles. This sunken segment consists of a wall of dead coral
+rock, lying at an average depth of five fathoms below the surface, but
+corresponding in breadth and curve with the exposed reef, of which it is
+obviously the complement. Or a ring may be wholly submarine. The same
+group affords, amongst others, an admirable example of this in the
+Speaker’s Bank, which is described as a well-defined annulus of dead
+coral, let down into the sea to a depth of six or eight fathoms, with a
+lagoon twenty-two fathoms deep and twenty-four miles across. It is
+apparently a drowned atoll. Hence from these, or from other causes, such
+as the action of the sea, the killing of the zoophytes by exposure or
+otherwise, we may have several modifications of the model reef.
+
+As yet we have only mentioned two principal types of structure—first,
+the _atolls_ or coral-lagoons; and, second, the _encircling reefs_. But
+we may here refer, in a sentence or two, to a third and an important
+class—namely, the _barrier reefs_. These are extensive lines of coral
+masonry, which pursue their course at a considerable distance from the
+shore, but with a degree of conformity to its outline, sufficient to
+prove that some relationship subsists between them. They do not,
+however, surround an island like the encircling reefs. The West Coast of
+New Caledonia is armed with a reef of this character, 400 miles in
+length; but in some parts it is sixteen miles distant from the shore,
+and seldom approaches it nearer than eight miles in any other quarter.
+This great ledge of coral rock is, moreover, prolonged for 150 miles at
+the northern extremity of the island; and then, returning in the form of
+a loop, and terminating on the opposite shore, seems to intimate that,
+in ancient days, New Caledonia was of much greater extent in this
+direction than it is at present. There is a still more magnificent
+specimen of the barrier reef on the north-east of Australia. This noble
+coral ridge is a thousand miles in length. Its distance from the coast
+is generally between twenty and thirty miles, but occasionally as much
+as seventy. The depth of the sea within the barrier is from ten to
+twenty-five fathoms, but at the southern extremity it increases to
+forty, or even sixty. On the other side, without the barrier, the ocean
+is almost unfathomable. The breadth of this embankment varies from a few
+hundred yards to a mile, and it is only at distant intervals that it is
+intersected by channels through which vessels may enter. It is a
+causeway for giants, and yet the architects were mere polyps!
+
+It is time, however, that our voyager should proceed to verify the
+supposition his fancy suggested. As yet he has adduced no proof that
+subsidence is, or has been, the order of the day where its results are
+supposed to appear. He knows that mountains and islands must not be sunk
+by a mere assumption, however plausibly that assumption may seem to
+solve the mystery of the reefs. Now, it is an admitted fact that, in
+certain parts of the globe, extensive regions have been hoisted up, some
+suddenly, some slowly; whilst others have gone down in the world just as
+suddenly or as slowly. The coast of Chili and the adjoining district, as
+is well known, were once elevated several feet, throughout an area of
+perhaps 100,000 square miles, in the course of a single night. Sweden
+has long been rising in its northern portion, and sinking in its
+southern, as if it were playing at see-saw on a magnificent scale. But
+we want evidence from the coral localities themselves. Of course, from
+the nature of the case, the testimony must necessarily be somewhat
+limited; because the question relates to a tardy movement, operating
+through ages, and occurring in regions which may be wholly uninhabited,
+or else peopled by tattooed and unphilosophical savages. But there seems
+to be tolerable proof for the purpose in hand. For instance, in an
+island called Pouynipate, in the Caroline Archipelago, one voyager
+describes the ruins of a town which is now accessible only by boats, the
+waves reaching to the steps of the houses. Of course, it is not likely
+that the founders of that place would build their habitations in the
+water; and, therefore, it must be inferred that this spot is in course
+of depression. Such, according to theory, should be its condition,
+because it consists of land encircled by a reef—that is, of land which
+must all vanish before the formation can be converted into a true
+coral-lagoon. At Keeling Island, again, Mr Darwin observed a storehouse,
+the basement of which was originally above highwater, but which was then
+daily washed by the tide. Many other instances of the same sort might be
+advanced; but there is still more striking evidence on this point,
+perhaps, in the existence of certain reefs which may now be introduced
+as links in the theory, or rather as tests by which its validity may be
+tried. These have been styled “shore” or “fringing” reefs. They differ
+from the other classes in the shallowness of the foundation on which
+they rest, and in the closeness of their approach to the land—either
+lining the shore itself, or, if separated, leaving a channel of no great
+depth between the coral bank and the coast. Wherever these exist, it is
+clear that the soil is stationary, or that it must be in course of
+elevation. It cannot be undergoing depression, because the coral beds
+would increase in thickness, and graduate into another class of
+structure. And in many instances where these fringes abound, there is
+the clearest proof, derived from organic remains, and other geological
+evidences, that the land has been actually upraised. A resident at Oahu,
+one of the Sandwich Islands (which are all fringed), stated that, from
+changes effected within a period of sixteen years only, he was satisfied
+that the work of elevation was proceeding at a very perceptible rate.
+Indeed, in numerous cases of this kind, coral deposits are found at a
+height where it is as certain that the polyps could never have toiled,
+as it is certain that fishes could never have lived. But elevation in
+one quarter implies depression in another. And, accordingly, it has been
+shown that the Pacific and Indian Oceans might almost be divided into a
+series of great bands, where the bed of the sea has alternately risen
+and sunk—just as if in one band the crust of the earth had been heaped
+up into a great solid wave, and in the next had subsided into a huge
+submarine trough or valley. For it happens that the reefs abounding over
+one of these areas belong almost universally to the class of formation
+which, according to theory, indicates that the ground is subsiding,
+whilst those which distinguish the next area are quite of the opposite
+description, and intimate that the crust is rising. Thus, for example,
+if we select the broadest illustration available, it will be seen, on
+referring to a map of the Pacific, that there is an extensive chain of
+islands, beginning to the west of the Caroline Archipelago, and running
+through Low Archipelago—a distance of several thousand miles—the whole
+family of which belong to the type denoting depression; whilst there is
+another long chain of islands, corresponding or parallel, in some
+measure, with the first, and extending, say from Sumatra to the
+south-east of the Friendly Isles, most of which indicate, by their
+reefs, that they belong to the type denoting elevation.
+
+The general coincidence, therefore, of fringing reefs with raised or
+stationary districts, and of atolls or lagoons with regions which appear
+to be subsiding, affords considerable support to the theory our voyager
+is maturing. But there is another remarkable criterion, which in due
+time he contrives to discover. In the districts where fringing reefs
+occur, or where the coral has been plainly uplifted, active volcanoes
+are frequently established. But where reefs of the contrary character
+prevail, these agents are rarely, if ever, to be found. Of course, where
+a volcano presents itself in any particular locality, and especially if
+it happens to be a volcano in a state of activity, this shows that the
+subterranean forces are disposed to upheave the soil above them;
+whereas, if volcanoes are wanting in another quarter, or if, being
+there, their activity has ceased, the conclusion is, that in this region
+no upward tendency at present exists. Now, this test, too, is in
+striking accordance with geographical fact. The two great chains of
+reefs already mentioned may again be adduced. In the series of atolls or
+subsiding islands extending from Caroline Archipelago to Low
+Archipelago, not a single working volcano is to be detected within
+several hundred miles of any moderate cluster; whereas, in the band or
+series of isles which are characterised by fringes, numbers of these
+powerful agents are busily engaged; and in some of them, as, for
+instance, in Java, the subterranean forces are known to be intensely
+energetic. In fact, it may be stated as a pretty authentic conclusion,
+that whilst volcanoes frequently appear in those areas where the crust
+of the earth is now, or has recently been, in upward motion, “they are
+invariably absent in those where the surface has lately subsided, or is
+still subsiding.”[9]
+
+At the same time, it may be interesting to remark, that whilst busy
+volcanoes are thus shown to be irreconcilable with the presence of true
+atolls, yet at one period the theory most in fashion assumed that all
+coral-lagoons were mere submarine craters, whose rims had been coated
+with calcareous matter by the coral polyps. However plausible this
+hypothesis might seem when applied to a few particular cases, its
+insufficiency was soon discovered when a considerable number of reefs
+had been compared, and when the order of transition from one type to
+another was clearly understood. The vast size of some of these
+atolls—the elongated shape which many assume—the mode in which they are
+frequently clustered—the precipitousness of their flanks, rendered it
+difficult, if not impossible, to treat them as drowned Etnas or Heclas.
+Then the equal altitudes they must have attained as submarine mounts, is
+totally inexplicable, if the fact of the limited operations of the
+polyps be admitted; for it would be preposterous to imagine that
+thousands of volcanic cones could all rise to the surface of the sea, or
+within a range of five-and-twenty fathoms, and yet never overtop the
+waves to a greater height than a dozen feet. But, above all, the
+existence of coral rings, with land in the interior—where, if the theory
+were correct, a large cavity should have taken the place of primitive
+rocks, exhibiting no signs of volcanic action—has proved utterly fatal
+to the theory. It is manifest that Tahiti, for example, with its lofty
+mountains, could never have been the centre-piece of a huge crater; and
+it is certain that a volcanic vent would not assume the shape of a mere
+moat, like the girdle of water which encompasses an ancient castle.
+
+Combining, then, the various data already adduced, and observing that
+there is a general harmony in the results, our voyager may reasonably
+conclude that his theory has now been mounted upon a tolerably fair
+basis of facts. He has explained the seeming paradoxes which thrust
+themselves upon his view at the earlier stages of the inquiry. He has
+brought all the different varieties of coral formations under the grasp
+of one law, and shown how, by the continued operation of a subsiding
+force and the continued addition of coral skeletons, the “fringing” reef
+would pass into an “encircling” reef, and this again would graduate into
+a perfect “atoll.” It is true that in doing this he has been compelled
+to draw a pretty picture of the fluctuations to which the earth’s crust
+is exposed. Large areas are supposed to sink in one quarter, and to rise
+in another. Here and there a spot which has once been lowered may again
+be uplifted; and this fitful movement may, in the course of ages, be
+repeated, as if to show what “ups-and-downs” a poor island may be called
+upon to endure. He knows, indeed, that his theory trenches upon the
+marvellous. Were it not for the light which geology has latterly thrown
+upon the pranks played by the Earth in its youthful days, he is aware
+that his hypothesis would be condemned as a thing far too romantic for
+belief.
+
+But perhaps the most surprising circumstance, after all, is, that such
+stupendous structures should really be fashioned by such puny
+artificers. When he turns his attention to the builders themselves, he
+finds that they are little better than lumps of jelly.[10] The workmen,
+who far surpass, in the vastness of their erections, all the proud
+masonry of man, belong to the lowest classes of animated things. They
+are half-plant, half-animal. Until the commencement of the last century,
+indeed, their pretensions to a higher dignity than that of marine
+vegetables was denied; and when a certain M. Peyssonel interested
+himself on their behalf, and endeavoured to raise them to a higher
+position in the scale of organisation, his proposal was treated with
+much the same sort of derision as if he had demanded the admission of
+monkeys into the ranks of humanity. These zoophytes consist, in the
+main, of a mere visceral cavity, containing no distinct system of
+vessels, exhibiting no decided appearance of nerves, possessing no other
+senses than an imperfect touch and taste, and certainly manifesting no
+distinction of sex. They are simply digestive sacs, for which a troop of
+tentacles are continually foraging: they eat, drink, secrete coral,
+throw off young polyps, and die, without in general wandering an inch
+from the place where they were produced.
+
+Of all living things we should least expect that creatures so imbecile
+as these would be able to run up great embankments capable of repelling
+billows which sometimes roll along in an unbroken ridge of a mile or two
+in length, or of resisting a surf whose roar may be heard at the
+distance of eight or nine miles. That a feeble zoophyte should have the
+power of breasting the waves of the Pacific, did we not know it to be a
+fact, would appear a more preposterous notion than that of the memorable
+lady who attempted to keep the Atlantic out of her dwelling with a mop.
+No other animals seem to possess a faculty at all approaching to this:
+none exhibit a constructive propensity which leads to such massive
+results. The bee, for example, produces more geometrical works, but we
+cannot conceive of a honeycomb as large as a county, or a mountain of
+cells as tall as Skiddaw or Snowdon. It would be absurd to dream of
+fabricating a reef of sponge, though, if its animal character be
+admitted, this creature will almost hold as high a rank in life as the
+coral polyp; nor would it be pardonable to imagine that such a miserable
+material could ever become the basis of a new island. The beaver, it is
+true, executes very extensive dams; he is an excellent carpenter—perhaps
+the most skilful four-footed artisan with which we are acquainted; but
+put him in the midst of a boisterous sea, to erect a great circular
+rampart fifty or a hundred miles in diameter, with the billows tumbling
+about his ears continually, and he might just as well have contracted to
+build the Plymouth Breakwater, or the Eddystone Lighthouse. In fact, if
+we consider what difficulty men have in achieving their simplest
+specimens of marine architecture, it may be said that, were a whole
+nation of human beings set to work in the Pacific, they could not
+accomplish one of the colossal enterprises which these morsels of pulp
+silently effect.
+
+What renders the undertaking more surprising is, that these soft-bodied
+things have to _make rock_ for themselves; they have to provide the very
+stone which constitutes the edifice they build; they have not only to
+find straw to produce their bricks, as it were, but to procure the clay
+itself. The hard coral composing their edifices is the internal skeleton
+of the animals, and appears to be a secretion from their own tissues.
+Chemical analysis has shown that it consists principally of carbonate of
+lime—upwards of 95 parts out of every 100—including also small
+quantities of silica, alumina, magnesia, iron, fluorine, and phosphoric
+acid. It is remarkable, however, that this secreted matter is harder
+than calcareous spar or common marble—much harder, indeed, says Mr Dana,
+than its peculiar chemical composition will explain. “Using an iron
+mortar,” observes Mr B. Silliman, junior, “in the earlier trials, the
+iron pestle was roughened and cut under the resistance of the angular
+masses of coral, to a degree quite remarkable, considering the nature of
+the substance operated on. So much iron was communicated to the powder
+from this source, that recourse was had to a mortar of porcelain; and
+even this was not proof against wear, the porcelain pestle being pitted
+by the repeated blows. The more porous species, of course, were crushed
+with less difficulty.” Whence, then, do the animals procure the
+materials which they fashion into such dense and enormous piles? Here
+are millions of tons of calcareous matter heaped up by their agency, and
+yet there is no visible storehouse from which they can obtain any solid
+supplies. For as the land subsides, the builders of the reef are cut off
+from the shore: there is little but coral beneath them—there is nothing
+but water around them. It must therefore be from the billows of the
+ocean that the creatures possess the power of picking out the small
+quantity of carbonate of lime which the fluid contains. Their food may,
+of course, contribute to the supply; but from what source again did the
+minute animals they devour procure their stock of salts and earths?
+
+It is singular, too, to observe how limited is the sphere of activity
+assigned to these creatures. In order to complete a reef, it is not
+sufficient that one tribe or species alone should be employed; the
+Madrepores, Astræas, and Gemmipores are the principal masons engaged;
+but each structure exhibits considerable diversity of workmen. There are
+some polyps, as we have seen, which love the contention of the surf, and
+thrive only when exposed to the play of the waves; there are others
+which covet a more tranquil life, and prosper only in the peaceful
+lagoon. Neither could change places with safety, any more than the
+reindeer could barter climates with the camel. A reef might almost be
+divided into a number of zones, in each of which a particular sort of
+coral polyp finds its appropriate habitat. The sea-front of the ring
+appears to be partitioned into belts, like the vegetable regions on the
+slope of a mountain. “The corals on the margin of Keeling Island,” says
+Mr Darwin, “occurred in zones: thus the _Porites_ and _Millepora
+complanata_ grow to a large size only where they are washed by a heavy
+sea, and are killed by a short exposure to the air; whereas three
+species of _Nullipora_ also live amidst the breakers, but are able to
+survive uncovered for a part of each tide. At greater depths a strong
+_Madrepora_ and _Millepora alcicornis_ are the commonest kinds, the
+former appearing to be confined to this part. Beneath the zone of
+massive corals, minute encrusting corallines and other organic bodies
+live.” Thus, even in the limited range allotted to these zoophytes, we
+have a minute illustration of the law which has been so admirably
+developed by Professor Edward Forbes—that the bed of the sea exhibits a
+series of regions, each peopled, according to its depth, by its peculiar
+inhabitants.
+
+But if the creatures which are employed in the erection of the reefs are
+restricted to so narrow a field of exertion, a very peculiar provision
+has fitted them for the work they have to perform. This consists in what
+is called their _acrogenous_ mode of increase. If, for example, the
+zoophytes assume the form of a plant, it is not the whole mass which is
+alive, but only a very small portion at the summit and at the
+extremities of the branches. All the remainder of the stem and boughs
+has been converted into dead coral. To grow, with them, is therefore to
+mount. The skeleton of the young animal is hoisted upon that of its
+defunct predecessor. Some zoophytes, like the Goniopores, spring up in
+columns to the height of two or three feet; and to each of these coral
+pillars a capital of live polyps, two or three inches in extent, is
+affixed. Or if the creatures assume a more clustered or globular form,
+as is the case with many of the Astrææ, Porites, and others, the depth
+of life in the mass is extremely small. A dome of Astræas, twelve feet
+in diameter, is supposed to consist of a thin film of living polyps,
+extending not more than half or three quarters of an inch below the
+surface—a solid nucleus of coral being, in fact, merely coated with
+vitality. It is to this property of upward and outward growth that we
+must ascribe the prodigious power these animals possess. Their labours
+are _cumulative_; and hence, though in themselves the most insignificant
+of creatures, they are enabled to heap up tier after tier of skeletons,
+until the mountain which has sunk in the waters is rivalled by the
+monument they erect upon its site.
+
+If we wish, however, to form some conception of the marvels which these
+zoophytes accomplish, we have only to remember that the coral formations
+in the Pacific occupy an area of four or five thousand miles in length,
+and then to imagine what a picture that ocean would exhibit were it
+suddenly drained. We should walk amongst huge mounds which had been
+cased and capped with the stone these animals had secreted. Prodigious
+cones would rise from the ground, all towering to the same altitude, and
+reflecting the light of the sun from their white summits with dazzling
+intensity. Here and there we should come to a huge platform, once a
+large island, whose peaks, as they sank, were clothed in coral, and then
+prolonged upwards until they rose before us like the columns of some
+huge temple which had been commenced by the Anakims of an antediluvian
+world. If, as Champollion has said, the edifices of ancient Egypt seem
+to have been designed by men fifty feet high, here, whilst wandering
+amongst these strange monuments, we might almost fancy that beings
+hundreds of yards in stature had been planting the pillars of some
+colossal city, which they never lived to complete. But the builders, as
+we have seen, were mere worms; the quarry from which they dug their
+masonry was the limpid wave; and the vast structures which have been
+calmly upreared in the midst of a tempestuous sea, are the workmanship
+of creatures which possess neither bodily strength nor high animal
+instinct. That duties so important should have been assigned to beings
+so lowly, is one of the finest moral facts science has unfolded. It is
+the function of the coral polyp, under the present geological
+dispensation, to counteract the distant volcano, and to repair in some
+degree the ravages of the subterranean fires. Its task is to fasten upon
+a sinking island, and keep its top on a level with the sea. The
+haughtiest of physical forces—that which sometimes shakes great
+continents—which lifts or lowers whole regions in a night—is often kept
+in check by the industry of these diminutive things. When the earth’s
+crust is collapsing, and it becomes necessary to fill up the vacancy,
+the commission is not given to any gigantic workmen, but a number of
+mere polyps are bid to labour upon the subsiding soil, as if to show
+that the Creator could employ the humblest of His creatures in executing
+the largest of physical undertakings.
+
+
+
+
+                     THE AGED DISCIPLE COMFORTING.
+
+
+          Fear not, my son; these terrors are from GOD.
+        Hast thou not heard how, when Elijah stood
+        On Horeb, waiting while the LORD passed by,
+        Before the still small voice, there came a blast
+        That rent those ancient mountains? after the wind
+        An earthquake, after that again a fire?
+        Aye, when Christ visits first a sinful heart,
+        The devils that abide there shake with fear;
+        Who can abide his coming?
+                                    I remember,
+        (How could I not?) that, in his days of flesh,
+        We—even we, who called ourselves his friends—
+        As little knew him as dost thou to-day.
+          In a dark night we sailed upon the lake,
+        Alone, not knowing where our Master was.
+        The night was dark, and dark our lonely hearts;
+        A moon there was, but low, and blurred with clouds;
+        Only upon the horizon lay a line,
+        A level line of light, which, near and far,
+        Marked the black outline of the eastern hills.
+          Stern was our toil, with every art we had
+        To speed our vessel; for the breeze had sunk,
+        Or only came by snatches—till the rain—
+        Then flashed the incessant lightnings, then the hills
+        Rang, roared, as though the thunder shattered them;
+        Then surged the waves against the opposite wind,
+        Rattled our useless cordage, rent our sail,
+        Rent, flapping in the tempest, and his might
+        Seized on our boat, and drave it at his will.
+          No man was free from fear; we knew too well
+        Those treacherous waves; and He, whose master voice
+        Had laid them cowering at his feet, like dogs,
+        Where was He now?—In some lone mountain wood
+        He communed with his Father and the angels,
+        And knew not that we perished there alone.
+        Alas! far otherwise when in the stern
+        He slept, amid the hubbub of the storm,
+        As if on priceless couches, in the pomp
+        Of Herod’s palace; now He was afar,
+        Each of us felt the terror of the night,
+        And each one acted as his nature was.
+          One fell to prayer; one muttered instant vows;
+        Another lay and wept aloud; some few
+        Deemed that the gale was transient, and sate still
+        Watching their idle nets; some, bolder, strove
+        To save the canvass, and the labouring mast.
+          Amongst the band were two, forever first;
+        One was a reverend man, of ripening years,
+        Whose steel-grey beard fell on his fisher’s coat,
+        Even to his belt; the other was a youth,
+        Whose face, made ruddy by the genial suns
+        Of five-and-twenty summers, always shone
+        A God-wove banner of celestial love.
+          These two were working still, to save the ship,
+        When the cry rose, “A spirit!” There it walked,
+        Or seemed to walk, the waters, and drew near.
+        Then he that wore the fisher’s coat cried out;
+        “If not to be afraid be brave,” he said,
+        “When fear were preservation, be not bold;
+        What men could do we have done; now let be,
+        Lest haply we be found to fight with GOD.”
+        Thus spake he; but we lay down, motionless,
+        Struck by despair, and waited for our end:
+        Only the young man bared his trusting brow.
+          Then spake the Form majestic:
+                                          “It is I;
+        Be of good cheer;” and then we knew our Lord,
+        And took him up into the ship with us,
+        And fell before him worshipping, and said,
+        “Ah, doubt is dead; ah, blessed Son of God!”
+          Thus scant of faith were we, and ignorant
+        That he was with us, when we saw him not,
+        Or deemed him but some spirit of evil, sent
+        To make complete the horrors of the night.
+          Our hearts calmed with the waters, we were saved,
+        And knew our Master’s power, and blessed his love,
+        And, lo! were landed at the wished-for shore.
+                                                        H. G. K.
+
+
+
+
+              THE EXTENT AND THE CAUSES OF OUR PROSPERITY.
+
+
+                 TO THE EDITOR OF BLACKWOOD’S MAGAZINE.
+
+The majority of the Legislature and of the great Conservative party
+throughout the country have declared, either openly or tacitly, that our
+present commercial policy cannot be reversed; and, in the present temper
+of the people, such submission was almost inevitable. Whatever might be
+the convictions of Conservative statesmen as to the working and tendency
+of Free Trade, the expression of those convictions, and evidence,
+however strong, in support of them, would have fallen idly upon the ear
+of the masses, taught as they have been—and, indeed, are predisposed—to
+jump to the nearest conclusion, when tracing effects to their causes.
+They see the outward and visible marks of prosperity accumulating around
+them on every side. Blue books and merchants’ and brokers’ circulars at
+length speak the same language and tell the same story of a
+widely-spread prosperity, which every man hears boasted of in his daily
+avocations, whilst exulting Liberalism continually proclaims to the
+world the coexisting fact of free imports. It is of no avail to remind
+those men that the prosperity in question is not that which they
+predicted or anticipated; that it is not the prosperity meant by the men
+whose most loudly-urged inquiry was, “How can we compete with the
+foreigner, whilst food is at war prices?” It is of no avail to remind
+them that the foreigner has not, as was promised us, reciprocated our
+generous policy, and that the tariffs of the world are still maintained
+in their restrictive character; or to point to the palpable fact that we
+have not even that “cheapness” of all the necessaries and comforts of
+life, which was held up as the great boon to be achieved by Free Trade
+legislation. The arguments, assumed to be conclusive, brought to bear
+against those who still adhere to the principles which they have all
+along maintained, are that the commercial and industrial enterprise of
+the country is extending—that our population is fully employed—that the
+revenue increases in elasticity—that property of every description
+maintains its value—and that, through the length and breadth of the
+land, there is scarcely a cry of suffering raised which is not at once
+drowned by counter acclamations of satisfaction with the existing
+condition and prospects of the great masses of the community.
+
+Whilst statesmen, however, are forbearing, and refrain from active
+opposition to the conclusions, be they founded on delusion or not, drawn
+by the advocates of onward policy in the direction of Free Trade, it is
+the legitimate province of the political essayist to investigate
+_facts_, which lie below the surface from which ordinary inquirers
+derive their arguments, and to take care that such facts are brought
+with sufficient prominency before the public. The _suppressio veri_ has
+ever been a favourite weapon of casuists; and when we see that a
+precisely opposite result is admitted by all parties to have followed
+the adoption of a given policy, it is reasonable to conclude that some
+suppression of the truth has taken place as to the facts, or that they
+do not legitimately lead to the conclusions drawn from them. We see at
+the present moment high prices of every commodity prevailing, whereas we
+were assured that low prices would bring them within the reach of the
+mass of consumers. We have dear labour in every department of industry,
+instead of the cheap labour which the capitalist made no secret of
+expecting as the result of free imports of foreign food. We have high
+freights for our shipping, both inwards and outwards, yet both
+Free-Traders and Protectionists prophesied low freights as the result of
+the repeal of the Navigation Laws. We have well-employed artisans,
+notwithstanding the anticipated displacement of their labour by the
+introduction of foreign manufactured articles. Lastly, the British
+farmer is not ruined; a good Providence has protected the tiller of the
+soil from the annihilation which was predicted for him; and he is
+enabled indirectly, by high prices of certain portions of his produce,
+to wring an ample reward for his industry from the consuming classes.
+The obvious inference to be drawn from such a state of things is that
+some circumstance or circumstances, previously unforeseen, have
+interfered to derange and falsify the calculations of both the great
+opposing parties in the country; and it is most desirable to know what
+are those circumstances, and what their past and probable future
+operation.
+
+To arrive at the solution of these questions, we may be excused if we
+refer to a notice of the industrial and commercial condition of the
+country given in this Magazine in June 1851, or a little more than two
+years ago. At that period, as admitted by the circulars of our leading
+merchants, brokers, and manufacturers, we were in anything rather than a
+condition of general prosperity. Importation of foreign produce was
+unattended with profit, the export trade to foreign markets was equally
+unprofitable, and the home demand, both for produce and manufactures,
+was seriously restricted. With respect to the latter, an eminent
+Manchester firm, Messrs M‘Nair, Greenhow, and Irvine, reported in their
+circular of March 31, 1851—“The market is far from satisfactory.
+Complaints to this effect are very frequent, and determined resolutions
+_in favour of reducing the production of cloth of certain descriptions
+are becoming general on the part of manufacturers, who assign, with
+reason, their inability to render their manufactures remunerative.
+Vitality is wanted, and the absence of anything approaching to a demand
+for the country trade contributes necessarily to aggravate and deepen
+the dissatisfaction._” The Shipping Interest was at that time in a most
+disastrous condition, freights being reduced in many cases fully 50 per
+cent, and far below the remunerative point. Such was the condition of
+the country five years after the repeal of the Corn Laws, and two years
+after the repeal of the Navigation Laws. With respect to the latter
+interest, it is important to bear in mind that the low freights in
+1851—particularly for long voyages—were very generally attributed to the
+competition of the American shipowner, who, having a valuable passenger
+and carrying trade secured to him by the new conquests of his countrymen
+in California, could afford to bring return cargoes from India, China,
+and the markets of the Pacific, at much lower rates than British
+shipowners. The changed fortunes of the latter class afford striking
+testimony of the fact that _their_ prosperous position, at all events,
+is not attributable to Free-Trade measures, or to legislation of any
+kind. A few months after the ruinous period to which we have referred,
+the country was electrified by intelligence of the discovery in our
+Australian possessions of wealth equal in amount, if not even superior,
+to that which was being gathered by the adventurers in California; and
+although at first doubts were expressed of the correctness of the
+intelligence, a large emigration to those colonies at once set in, which
+has continued to increase up to the present time. We ceased to hear of
+shipping lying idle in the docks of our leading seaports. We ceased to
+hear of our seamen entering into the service of rival countries. Our
+building-yards, both at home and in the American colonies, became scenes
+of unprecedented activity; and every branch of industry connected
+directly or indirectly with shipping, was placed in a prosperous
+condition. To enable the reader to form an idea of the amount of tonnage
+employed in this new trade, it may be stated that the amount of shipping
+which sailed from the port of Liverpool for Australia, since the first
+of January 1852, to the end of July 1853, was 175 ships of 138,500 tons
+register. These were exclusively passenger-ships. If we add 40 more as
+the number taking cargo or cabin passengers alone, which are not
+mentioned in the Government officer’s returns, we have in round numbers
+215 ships with a tonnage of 170,000 tons, from the port of Liverpool,
+engaged in this new trade. The departures from London and other ports,
+of which we have not at hand correct returns, but which very materially
+exceed those of Liverpool, will swell the amount of tonnage to about
+500,000 tons. Of the shipping from Liverpool, 52 vessels—in all, 46,000
+tons—have been chartered by Government for the conveyance of Irish and
+Scotch emigrants chiefly, sent out by the Emigration Board. There were
+loading in Liverpool, on the 8th inst., 48 ships, with an aggregate
+tonnage of 33,369 tons. Moreover, from the nature of the trade, and the
+peculiar temptations which present themselves to our seamen to desert
+when they arrive in the colony, and proceed to the diggings, the wages
+paid them have been nearly double the average paid for other voyages.
+
+Here, then, we have the prosperity of one great interest in the country
+distinctly accounted for, with which Free Trade has manifestly no
+connexion. Australia has saved the British shipowner from ruin; and it
+has done more. An increasing population, attracted to the colony from
+every quarter of the globe, have become large consumers of British
+products, and promise at no distant date to be still larger consumers.
+In the first six months of 1851 we exported to Australia 3,003,699 yards
+of plain calicoes, and 3,611,751 yards of printed and dyed calicoes. In
+the corresponding period of 1852 the exports were 1,453,079 yards of
+plain, and 5,683,822 yards of printed and dyed calicoes; and in the six
+months just ended they have increased to 6,856,010 yards of plain, and
+5,751,431 yards of printed and dyed. This is in addition to the large
+quantity of these goods taken as outfits by emigrants, and the stocks
+which may have gone from our Indian and other markets. The hardware
+trade of Birmingham has been largely benefited by the consumption of
+Australia; and, in fact, there is scarcely a branch of industry in this
+country which it has not stimulated. Even the farmer owes to it much of
+his present position. The absorption of agricultural labour by the
+diggings of Australia, from which colony we derive the finest wools used
+in the manufacture of broadcloth, has, by raising the price of those
+wools, encouraged the substitution of an inferior article. This cause,
+and the great increase in the home consumption, a portion of which
+increase has been taken by emigrants in the shape of slops, blankets,
+&c., has contributed materially to raise the value of our own produce.
+The extent of this advance is thus stated by a leading firm in the wool
+trade in Liverpool—“The advance in the value of the various kinds of
+British sheep’s wool, from August 1851 to August 1853, varies from 30 to
+40 per cent. Production has not decreased, but perhaps the contrary,
+while consumption is very much increased.” Farm produce of all
+kinds—butter, cheese, bacon, &c.—have found in the colony a new market,
+which has greatly contributed to produce the high prices existing at
+home.
+
+If we turn to the manufacturing interest, we suspect it will be found
+that much of its present boasted prosperity is attributable to other
+causes than our Free-Trade policy. We have had a considerable increase
+in our exports of cotton manufactures during the first six months of the
+present year; but when we inquire to what countries this increase has
+gone, we find that nearly the whole has gone to four—viz., the United
+States, China, Australia, and the coast of Africa. The three last we may
+certainly exclude from the countries whose increased dealings with us
+are at all distinctly traceable to Free Trade. We have therefore to
+examine how far those of America can properly be so considered. The
+exports of cotton goods to that country, as given in _Burn’s Monthly
+Colonial Circular_ for the first six months of 1851, 1852, and 1853,
+were as follows:—
+
+                                Plain Calicoes.    Printed and Dyed.
+
+    First six months of 1851,       6,580,713 yds.  21,078,887 yds.
+      „            „    1852,       8,928,610  „     22,144,002  „
+      „            „    1853,      26,428,896  „     49,478,800  „
+
+The shipments to that country are still being made on so extended a
+scale that, whilst every sailing vessel which can be secured is promptly
+filled up at high rates of freight, the steamers are actually compelled
+to shut out goods, although the rates have lately been advanced to £5
+per ton for those chiefly of the class called “fine,” which they are in
+the habit of carrying. It is calculated that there are at present lying
+in Liverpool for shipment by the “Cunard” line of mail boats, more cargo
+of this description than can go for three weeks to come; and the
+consignees of the American or “Collins” line had recently a lottery in
+their office, to decide whose goods were to go by the steamer then
+loading. To what cause, then, can we attribute this amazing increase of
+our exports to America? It cannot be the operation of Free-Trade
+measures in this country which has enabled America to take from us, in
+the first six months of 1853, twenty million yards of plain, and nearly
+twenty-eight and a half million yards of printed and dyed calicoes, more
+than in 1851. We have not extended to _her_, in particular, any material
+concessions since the latter year. We have not been greater importers of
+her bread-stuffs, or of any other article of her production, with the
+exception of cotton. Of this great staple the clearances from all the
+ports of the Union to this country, from 1st September 1852 to 5th July
+1853, were 1,617,000 bales, against 1,577,160 bales in the corresponding
+period of 1851–2, and 1,285,173 bales in that of 1850–51; showing an
+excess this year of 39,840 bales over last, and 331,827 bales over 1851.
+This may account in part for the increased purchases of America from the
+British manufacturer; but, on the same grounds, she must also have
+increased her purchases from other countries; for we find that, whilst
+her excess of exports to Great Britain was 331,827 bales last year, as
+compared with 1851, the excess to “_all_ countries” was 533,386 bales,
+showing that other countries had also received increased supplies to the
+extent of 201,559 bales: and we are not aware that any of those
+countries have been legislating of late in the direction of Free Trade;
+The conclusion which it strikes us as most likely to be correct, as to
+the cause of our increased exports to America, is that something has
+occurred to improve the condition and enlarge the consuming power of
+that country. Such, on inquiry, we find to have been the case; for with
+the comparatively light import of British fabrics in 1851, what was the
+state of the American market for those fabrics? We have it thus stated
+by the _New York Courier and Enquirer_ of the 16th of April in that
+year, as quoted in the article to which we have before referred—“The
+very heavy sales made of domestic light prints have put an end to all
+inquiry for the foreign article; and _we do not know a case of English
+prints that will bring prime cost, whilst the majority must suffer a
+heavy loss_...... Nor is the prospect better for ginghams; _few, if any,
+bring cost and charges_.”
+
+It is true that reference was made by the American writer to accidental
+causes, which were alleged to have produced this unprofitable state of
+business in 1851; but it is tolerably clear that there must have been
+besides a want of the power to buy—and it is the fact that there was
+such a want—compared with that which exists at present. The American
+planters have had, since 1851, two crops of cotton, in succession,
+larger than were ever raised before, which have been sold, especially
+the last, at higher prices than those which prevailed in 1851—a year of
+short crop, as will be seen from the following table, made up to the
+30th ult.:—
+
+                 Mobile Fair. Orleans Fair. Crop to July 5.
+           1853, 6¾d. to 6¾d. 6⅝d. to 7d.   3,172,000 bales.
+           1852, 5⅝d. to 5⅝d. 6⅜d. to 6⅜d.  2,963,324   „
+           1851, 5¼d. to 5⅜d. 5¾d. to 5¾d.  2,273,106   „
+
+The American farmer also has had this year considerably enhanced prices
+of grain of all kinds—cheese, butter, pork, beef, and other produce—for
+which large markets have been opened in California and Australia.
+Emigration has greatly swelled the number of the population, and thus
+increased domestic consumption. Employment throughout the Union is
+ample, every fresh body of labourers, as soon as they are landed, being
+sought out and engaged at good wages for the various railways, canals,
+and other public works, which are constructing in almost every state.
+California, with its vast mineral wealth, is exercising an almost
+inconceivable influence throughout the entire continent, enlarging and
+rendering more secure its monetary resources, stimulating domestic
+enterprise, and furnishing that which a new country most urgently
+requires—the means of extending its foreign commerce. It is not the
+Free-Trade policy of Great Britain _per se_, if indeed at all, which has
+rendered the United States better customers of Great Britain, but mainly
+the increased and unparalleled prosperity of the American people—a
+prosperity which, it should ever be borne in mind by the statesman, is
+coexistent with a strictly protected domestic industry.
+
+In addition to the effect produced upon the industrial portion of the
+community in our own country by the increased demand for British
+productions to supply the wants of America and Australia, we must not
+omit to notice some other important circumstances which have been in
+operation during the past three or four years. We have recently been
+sending away to our North American Colonies, to the United States, and,
+for two years past, to Australia, large numbers of our population, and
+particularly of that portion of them whose position at home may be
+termed one of struggling for the means of living. Large tracts of land
+in Ireland, once thronged with this class, are at present almost
+literally unpeopled; and from England and Scotland many thousands of
+able-bodied labourers, skilled artisans, and small farmers, have swelled
+the tide of emigration. It may be said, with truth, that this is not a
+sign of prosperity at home. These classes confessedly left their native
+soil because it no longer afforded remunerative employment for their
+industry. Yet, indirectly, an increased prosperity has been the result
+of their departure, especially in our large towns and in the
+manufacturing districts. We feel no longer the pressure upon the labour
+market of continual immigration from Ireland to this country of a
+semi-pauper class, ready to accept employment at the very lowest rate of
+wages upon which life can be supported by the coarsest description of
+food. The visits of Irish agricultural labourers are now decreasing year
+by year; and although many still come to settle amongst us, and to
+partake with our own working classes of the advantages of continuous
+employment, they are no longer satisfied with that low scale of
+remuneration for which they were formerly content to labour.
+
+The comparative dearness of what used to be their staple article of
+food—the potato—has driven them, during the past few years, to the
+adoption of a higher scale of living. They have imbibed, even in their
+own workhouses, the taste for aliments similar to those upon which the
+English labourer is fed. In proof of this change, which has been taking
+place in Ireland during the past few years, we may point to the fact of
+that country having ceased almost entirely to supply the British markets
+with cereal productions, and to its diminished exports of other
+descriptions of farm produce; for it is not true that this has been
+altogether caused by diminished production. The result is felt upon
+their arrival in this country, by the Irish emigrants speedily falling
+into the scale of living, and demanding the same wages, as our own
+labouring classes. To the causes referred to is, in a great measure, to
+be attributed the improved condition of those classes generally in every
+department of industry. Labour is no longer in excess of the demand for
+it, and commands a higher rate of remuneration. An additional portion of
+the working masses, too, have become consumers of both foreign and
+domestic produce and manufactures, and hence some of those marks of
+prosperity which political economists see in increased imports and
+customs, and excise receipts, and attribute exclusively to the operation
+of Free Trade. We have got rid of the surplus portion of our labouring
+masses; and, as the result, those who remain to us are better employed
+at better wages.
+
+The operation of this change, so far as regards the revenue, the
+importing merchant, and the manufacturer, is much greater than is
+generally supposed. Below a certain scale of wages the working classes
+contribute almost nothing to the revenue, or to the profits of the
+importer, and comparatively little to those of the manufacturer; and the
+bulk of the population of Ireland had ever been hitherto below that
+scale, where they were in receipt of wages at all. Any addition to such
+wages, half of which at least is expended upon customable or exciseable
+commodities, tells immediately upon revenue and upon the profits of
+imports; whilst the remainder is probably expended upon the consumption
+of home productions, and thus further stimulates the prosperity of the
+producing classes. The comforts of life are sought for, instead of the
+mere necessaries being endured; and, virtually, an improvement in the
+condition of the labourer becomes a real increase in the numbers of the
+population. The United States are experiencing this fact in the immense
+consumption of every description of produce and manufactures by her
+prosperous gold miners in California; and Great Britain is experiencing
+it also in the consumption of the settlers in the gold regions of
+Australia. Our merchants had paused in their shipments to that colony.
+They feared that they might have glutted its markets. In doing this they
+had simply overlooked the fact, that a highly prosperous community
+consumes ten times the quantity of commodities of all kinds, which
+suffices for the wants of the same number of individuals prohibited by
+their position from indulging the tastes and desires natural to them. A
+few hundred thousand of diggers in Australia, with Anglo-Saxon habits,
+gathering each their ounce of gold per day, are equal to as many
+millions of rice-eating Hindoos in India, or opium smokers in the
+Celestial Empire.
+
+Since these remarks were written, they have received a very striking
+confirmation from the circular of Messrs W. Murray, Ross, and Co.,
+commission merchants of Melbourne, dated 20th May. After referring to
+the high prices existing in Melbourne, and the rapidity with which the
+supplies of goods which had arrived up to that date had been taken off,
+the writer proceeds, with respect to the apprehended glut to be created
+by the large shipments known to be on the way—“Great though the quantity
+of goods to come forward may be, it is yet equally evident that
+consumption will keep pace with, if it do not exceed, the import. The
+fact, moreover, must not be omitted out of the calculations of operators
+at foreign ports, that the exorbitant rates current in Melbourne have
+attracted such large importations from all the other Australian
+colonies, that the markets of every one of them are more bare of
+commodities than our own. The consequence will be, that as Melbourne and
+Sydney will be the principal recipient ports for foreign merchandise,
+large transhipments must be made to fill up the vacuum which our
+extraordinary demand has created. _The European population of the
+Australias is estimated at 600,000, the consuming power of whom is equal
+to at least three times as many in England. Therefore, the wants of a
+population, equivalent to 1,500,000 at home, have to be provided for._
+The immense addition which will also be made to these numbers by the
+rapid immigration which is, and will continue flowing from the mother
+country and elsewhere, must also be taken into account. The average
+immigration has latterly been about 3000 souls per week. No diminution
+is expected; on the contrary, an increase is expected. Some idea of the
+probable increase of the population during this year may be formed from
+knowing the increase which took place during the last year in Victoria
+alone, namely, 100,000. _As respects our power of consumption, nothing
+need be feared by the foreign shippers; all the goods that come forward
+will be wanted._” When it is borne in mind that the bulk of the
+population, described to be thus rapidly increasing, have Anglo-Saxon
+tastes, and consume principally British articles of the best
+description, we need scarcely be surprised if present prices at home,
+especially of agricultural produce, are not only maintained, but very
+materially enhanced. We find, from the same circular, that Australia is
+diverting from this country a large portion of our usual supplies of
+flour, cheese, &c., which we should otherwise have received from the
+United States, thus accounting for the advance in prices in the British
+market already experienced. All other commodities, whether of British,
+colonial, or purely foreign production, are bringing enormous rates in
+that country. English products, however, such as butter, cheese, hams,
+bacon, &c., are those most materially increased in value; and large
+quantities must go out to meet the demand, thus trenching still more
+upon the amount of the necessaries and comforts of life which are at
+present within the reach of our consuming classes.
+
+That, under all these circumstances combined, we have a high range of
+prices of produce existing, is scarcely to be wondered at; but, whilst
+we must decline to admit that such high prices are attributable to our
+adoption of a Free-Trade policy, we are rather doubtful of the fact that
+they are altogether the result of the undeniably-increased consumption
+of our population. Other causes are operating, which account, in part,
+for such high prices, irrespective of those which are urged by the
+advocates of that policy, and of those who attribute them to the
+prosperous condition of the country. We have had, during the present
+year and a portion of the last, decreased imports of some of the leading
+articles of foreign produce. Thus we have received in the ports of
+London, Liverpool, Bristol, and the Clyde, during the first seven months
+of 1853, only 100,080 hhds. and 13,065 tierces of West India sugar
+against an import of 122,300 hhds. and 15,685 tierces during the
+corresponding months of 1852. We have received of Bengal and Madras
+sugar 401,970 bags, &c. against 526,345 last year. From the Mauritius
+our receipts have been 777,900 against 708,730 mats, &c.; and from Java,
+and our other East Indian possessions 62,360 bags, &c. against 88,915
+last year. Decreased stocks and advanced prices naturally follow such a
+state of things. On the other hand, we have both increased imports and
+stocks of Havana, Brazil, and other foreign sugar—which, however, being
+chiefly used for refining purposes and for export, is not so correct an
+index of the consuming power of our home population. We have a slightly
+increased import of colonial molasses, and a considerable decrease of
+stocks. Our imports of colonial rum have been 19,330 puncheons only
+against 23,450 puncheons last year, whilst the stocks are only 15,530
+against 25,695 last year. The causes of this decline in the
+productiveness of our West Indian possessions, as well as in our imports
+from the East Indies, need scarcely be glanced at; and, as a just
+retribution, we find that the exports of cotton manufactures to the most
+important of the former—Jamaica—have fallen off from 2,413,611 yards of
+plain cottons, and 2,036,598 yards of printed and dyed, in the first six
+months of 1851, to 874,382 yards of plain, and 888,565 yards of printed
+and dyed in the corresponding period of 1853. Of another important
+article—tea—our imports during the first seven months of the present
+year have been less than in the corresponding months of last year, viz.
+30,086,000 lb. in 1853 against 32,867,000 in 1852; and prices have been
+enhanced in part by the civil war going on in China, and by the effect
+of the reduction made in the duty by Mr Gladstone’s Budget. Dried fruit,
+which was cheapened by the Tariff of 1841–2, has advanced enormously in
+price; but the principal cause of such increase has been a blight, which
+has occurred during the past two years. The supply of many articles of
+home produce, too,—such as butchers’ meat, butter, bacon, &c.—has been
+limited by the wet season at the beginning of this year, which was
+unfavourable to every description of agricultural produce. All these are
+distinctly exceptional causes of apparent prosperity, as shown by high
+prices of commodities, and have nothing whatever to do with the question
+of Free Trade v. Protection.
+
+It is not our intention here to enter into an inquiry as to the effect
+which the increased production of gold in California and Australia has
+produced, in inflating prices by enlarging the basis of our monetary
+circulation. Political economists of our modern school persist in
+treating the question of the currency as a bugbear; and in maintaining
+that the price of gold, irrespective of its increased supply, must
+remain, unlike that of all other commodities, _fixed_. It is useless to
+direct their attention to the effect upon prices which an enlarged
+currency, sustained by the golden treasures of California, has produced
+throughout the length and breadth of the American continent. It is
+useless to attempt to show them, although such is the fact, that the
+increased banking facilities gained by that country during the past two
+or three years have enabled her growers of grain, of cotton, and other
+produce, to maintain prices above what European and other countries
+could afford to pay, and to liquidate an almost continually adverse
+balance of trade. This much, however, the most strenuous advocate of the
+bullionist theory will perhaps admit: The mercantile community of this
+country, notwithstanding their imports have in the aggregate very
+largely exceeded their exports—thus inducing of necessity large exports
+of specie—have not during the present year, as we might have expected,
+been incapacitated by the position of the bank from holding their stock
+of produce. Money for commercial, and even for speculative purposes, has
+been abundantly afforded; and even in the face of a somewhat high rate
+of interest, advances on mortgage and for permanent investment have been
+readily procurable at reasonable rates. But for this circumstance, we
+could certainly not have sustained prices of imported produce; and our
+merchants, having been compelled to submit to the inflated ones of
+foreign countries, must have been utterly prostrated. The same reasoning
+applies to the internal industry of the country. Had money not been
+cheap, and easily procurable on _bona fide_ security and for investment,
+the vast amount of enterprise which has recently been manifested in the
+erection of new buildings, and new works of every description, in the
+drainage of our soil, in the beautifying of our large towns, and the
+health-producing improvement of their sanitary regulations, must have
+been checked, until, by a restriction of our imports, and something
+approaching to a general commercial bankruptcy, we had wrung back the
+limited amount of truant specie, upon which our currency is based, from
+the hands of the foreigner. We are not at all certain, however, for what
+period this pleasant state of things may last. For many weeks
+successively we have seen the stock of bullion in the Bank of England
+decreasing, notwithstanding the large arrivals from Australia and other
+quarters; and although this may in part be accounted for by the
+increased amount required to conduct the enlarged internal trade of the
+country, there can be no denial of the fact, that we are experiencing a
+serious external drain, required to meet our increased imports. For
+three or four months past the fear of a considerably tightened money
+market, as the result of such drain, has very greatly tended to repress
+speculation, which would otherwise have run into excess; and at the
+present moment anticipations of an advance in the rate of interest by
+the Bank of England and the large discounting houses are beginning to be
+seriously entertained.
+
+We have, then, the following facts established with tolerable
+clearness—viz., first, that nearly all the most important commercial
+interests of the country have been placed during the past two years in a
+condition of great prosperity; and, in the second place, that our
+industrious classes are now fully employed, at good wages. But it cannot
+be admitted that the cause of such a beneficial change is altogether, or
+even mainly, the Free-Trade policy which we have recently adopted.
+Notwithstanding this fact, we are perfectly ready to admit that we
+cannot at present disturb that policy, or retrace our steps. A large
+majority of the public believe that the change in question has been
+produced by Free Trade. They cannot perceive the exceptional causes
+which have been in existence, or these are sedulously kept from their
+eyes. A large portion of our working masses, during the temporary
+cheapness which followed the first adoption of the system, which
+cheapness was increased by the commercial sacrifices caused by monetary
+paralysis in 1847, 1848, and 1849, became acquainted with luxuries to
+which they had ever previously been strangers. A population, whose
+staple food had been oatmeal in its various forms of preparation, became
+acquainted with wheaten bread, with tea, coffee, &c., and were enabled
+to resort more frequently to butchers’ meat. They found themselves
+enabled to be better housed and better clothed, as well as better fed.
+The change in this respect, which took place throughout the
+manufacturing districts especially, was most striking, and was dwelt
+upon as affording ample proof of the successful results of Free Trade
+policy, so far as regarded these classes, at a period when it was
+manifest that they were consuming every description of foreign and
+domestic commodities at prices which were ruinous alike to the importer
+and the home producer. It was only reasonable to expect that those
+classes, thus substantially benefited, would resolutely refuse to listen
+then to any proposal for the reversal of measures to which they were
+taught to attribute the increased comforts they were enjoying; and the
+same indisposition to do so continues to prevail now, with prices of all
+the necessaries of life materially enhanced. Any return to protection,
+however modified, is regarded by them as, so far, a return to their old
+diet, and to the discomforts of their previous condition. For any party
+to insist upon such a retrograde policy, would be to throw them once
+more into the hands of the political demagogues, from which they have,
+during the past few years, happily emancipated themselves. Without any
+legislative interference with Free Trade, however, the position of these
+masses is just now becoming materially changed for the worse; and
+notwithstanding the fact, which we have admitted, that employment is
+more abundant than at any former period, it is very questionable whether
+we are not threatened with serious difficulties and social
+disorganisation, arising from the efforts of the labouring classes to
+maintain themselves in that position which they have been taught was
+their right, and was the natural result of Free Trade. For some months
+past the temper of these classes has been in a state of almost universal
+ferment. With continuous employment superseding the intermittent
+employment of a large portion of them, demands have been made for
+increased wages, and have in most cases been conceded. We have had
+strikes of our dock labourers and porters for rates which were never
+heard of previously, even when three or four days’ work in a week was
+considered as affording a fair amount of the means of living. The same
+classes, on our railways and other public works, have given evidence of
+dissatisfaction with their position by similar proceedings.
+Handicraftsmen of every description have joined in the movement; and
+even the police of our large towns have shown a disposition to seek
+other avocations than those of wielding a truncheon for from 18s. to
+21s. per week, with a livery. Throughout the manufacturing districts
+there has been, during the past three months, a large suspension of
+labour, the hands in one branch after another seeking advances of from 5
+to 10 per cent, and in some instances attempting to impose conditions
+upon their employers. Turn-outs, of short duration, resulting in
+concessions to their demands, have served to show the operatives that
+they are now the most powerful body, and to lay the foundation of
+further aggressive efforts. Next only in importance to the increase thus
+caused in the cost of manual labour, the manufacturer has had to submit
+to a large increase in the cost of his fuel, to the extent, in some
+districts, of 15 to 20 per cent—the miners in most of the small-seam
+collieries, and in several of the deep pits, having successfully stood
+out for higher rates of remuneration. The iron-miners, especially in
+Wales, have followed the example of their brother operatives in other
+branches of industry; and in one district in South Wales it is expected
+that upwards of 20,000 of the working population will shortly be
+deprived of the means of living by the blowing out of furnaces by the
+masters, in the endeavour to resist the demands of their men.
+
+There are two or three rather important questions which offer themselves
+for solution connected with these aggressive movements of the working
+classes. Are they the result of a confidence, on their parts, of power
+to coerce their employers? Is capital being compelled to relax its gripe
+upon industry? Or are these movements merely the defensive ones of men
+who feel that the comforts, which they have been recently enjoying
+through a factitious cheapness, are being withdrawn by high prices of
+the various articles of consumption? We believe that we must attribute
+them to all these causes combined. To this important part of our subject
+we entreat the earnest attention of our readers.
+
+It is natural to conclude that the working classes must feel somewhat
+confident of the fact that, to a great extent, the pressure upon the
+labour market, caused by immigration of fresh hands into the large
+manufacturing and other towns, has been withdrawn. The surplus
+population of the agriculturists have either sought, or are seeking, new
+spheres for the exercise of their industry in other lands, which offer
+to them a surer prospect of permanent prosperity; but there is this
+striking difference between the present movement of our operatives and
+those of former years, that the opportunity for it has not been seized
+upon in a pressing emergency of the masters—that it is not confined to a
+particular class, or a particular district. It is, in fact, universal,
+and apparently unprompted. No demagoguism has been required to bring it
+about; and, with a few rare exceptions, we have observed characterising
+every conflict for higher wages the best possible feeling between the
+employers and the employed. So long as the latter remained in the
+enjoyment of cheap food, they were quiescent; and in the majority of the
+strikes which have recently occurred, the plea most prominently put
+forward has been the advanced price of all the necessaries of life. In
+some few cases only has a scarcity of labourers appeared to warrant a
+demand for advanced wages; and it is a remarkable fact that these have
+resulted from causes distinctly unconnected with Free-Trade policy. The
+carpenters in our shipbuilding yards, and other branches of industry
+connected with the shipping interest, have been enabled, by the
+increased demand for ships for the Australian trade, to command higher
+rates of remuneration, irrespective of the advance in the prices of
+food. The men employed in building trades generally—masons,
+house-joiners, bricklayers, &c.—have been placed in a similar position
+by the internal improvements, and the increase of public and private
+works, which a more plentiful currency has stimulated throughout the
+country. But the main inducing cause of the aggressive attitude of the
+industrious classes, as a body, has been the fact that employment, at
+the wages paid from 1845 up to within the past few months, was
+insufficient to enable them to keep up to the standard of living which
+the cheapness prevailing in the greater portion of those years had given
+them a taste for. The following comparison of the present prices of a
+few of the leading articles, which form the consumption of the working
+classes, with those existing in the corresponding period of 1851, will
+enable the reader to draw a tolerably accurate conclusion with respect
+to their condition in the respective years. We take the prices from the
+authorised Liverpool data, as this port may be said to regulate those of
+the manufacturing districts:—
+
+                      │    1st August 1851.    │    1st August 1853.
+                      │_s._ _d._      _s._ _d._│_s._ _d._      _s._ _d._
+ Good beef, per lb.   │   0 4½    to     0    5│   0 5¾    to     0  6¼
+   (carcase),         │                        │
+ Good mutton, per lb. │   0 5½    to     0    6│   0 6¼    to     0  6¾
+   (carcase),         │                        │
+ Good American flour, │  20 0     to    21    0│  28 0     to    29  0
+   per barrel,        │                        │
+ Wheat, imp. average, │                 40    0│  52 7
+   per qr.,           │                        │
+ Butter (best brands),│                 74    0│  93 0     to    95  0
+   per cwt.,          │                        │
+ Butter low qualities,│  65 0     to    66    0│  84 0     to    86  0
+ Butter American, duty│  32 0     to    40    0│  80 0     to    87  0
+   paid,              │                        │
+ Bacon, best Irish,   │                 44    0│  60 0     to    63  0
+   per cwt.,          │                        │
+ Bacon, American, per │  38 0     to    44    0│  46 0     to    52  0
+   cwt.,              │                        │
+ Pork, American, per  │  55 0     to    63    0│  72 0     to    85  0
+   200 lb.,           │                        │
+ Cheese, American,    │  34 0     to    39    0│  40 0     to    48  0
+   middling, 200lb.,  │                        │
+ Cheese, Cheshire,    │                 50    0│  65 0
+   middling, 200lb.,  │                        │
+ Sugar, good dry brown│  36 0     to    37    0│  36 0     to    37  0
+   colonial,[11]      │                        │
+ Tea, good congou, in │                  0   11│   1 0½    to     1  1
+   bond, per lb.,     │                        │
+ Tallow, per cwt.,    │  37 9     to    38    0│  52 0
+ Coffee, fine ord. to │  44 0     to    58    0│  45 0     to    84  0
+   good mid., per     │                        │
+   cwt.,              │                        │
+ Oatmeal, Irish, per  │  25 0     to    26    0│  23 6     to    24  6
+   sack,              │                        │
+
+There has obviously been upon the bulk of these articles an advance of
+from 25 to 30 per cent; and this advance has been most signal upon the
+articles which the working man’s family chiefly consumes—bread,
+butchers’ meat, cheese, bacon and pork, butter, &c. With respect to tea,
+which has recently formed an important item in their expenditure, we
+have had within the past few weeks a reduction of the duty. This,
+however, has been nearly met by the increase in price which it now
+commands in bond. We had in July last a reduction of 1s. per cwt. in the
+duty upon sugar, and since 1851 the total reduction is 2s. This also has
+been more than met by increased price, in the average, at least, of the
+period between 1851 to 1853, for we find that the price of “good dry
+brown” was, in 1852, only 35s. 6d. per cwt. The reduction of duty on
+soap is neutralised by the high price of the materials. In order to
+ascertain, or at all events to approximate to, an idea of the extent to
+which the working classes have been affected by the changes of the past
+two years, we shall take the instance of an average family, composed say
+of a man and wife and three children, earning the advanced wages of 24s.
+a-week. Such a family would consume at present, according to the scale
+of living enjoyed by them two years ago, when commodities were cheap, as
+follows:—
+
+          Bread, produce of 21 lb. flour,            3s.   0d.
+          Tea, 2 oz.,                                0s.   6d.
+          Coffee, 4 oz.,                             0s.   4d.
+          Sugar, 2 lb.,                              0s.   9d.
+          Butter, 1½ lb.,                            1s.   3d.
+          Candles, 1 lb.,                            0s.   7d.
+          Coals, 1½ cwt.,                            0s. 10½d.
+          Soap, 1½ lb.,                              0s.  7½d.
+          Butchers’ meat, 5 lb.,                     2s.  11d.
+          Bacon, 1 lb.,                              0s.   8d.
+          Cheese, 1 lb.,                             0s.   8d.
+          Currants, &c., 1 lb.,                      0s.   8d.
+          Potatoes, 20 lb. (average price of 1853),  1s.   3d.
+          Sundries,                                  0s.   2d.
+          Rent, water, &c.,                          3s.   6d.
+                                                    ———— —————
+                                                    17s.   9d.
+
+We have thus an expenditure of 17s. 9d. a-week for food and rent out of
+an income of 24s., leaving only a balance of 6s. 3d. for clothing, malt
+and other liquors, medical attendance and casualties. Such a scale of
+living may appear a high one to some parties, who have been in the habit
+of gauging the human appetite for the purpose of getting up statistics
+for union workhouses, model prisons, or model conditions of society. It
+will be found, nevertheless, to be pretty nearly that into the enjoyment
+of which our able-bodied working classes, pursuing moderately healthful
+though laborious avocations, rushed with eagerness during the period of
+cheapness resulting from the early operation of Free Trade. The cost of
+such a scale in 1851, calculated according to the prices of that period,
+would be about as follows:—
+
+ Bread, produce of 21 lb. flour,                                2s.  0d.
+ Sugar, 2 1b.,                                                  0s.  8d.
+ Butter, 1½ lb.,                                                1s.  0d.
+ Candles, 1 lb.,                                                0s. 5½d.
+ Coals, 1½ cwt.,                                                0s.  9d.
+ Butchers’ meat, 5 lb.,                                         2s. 3½d.
+ Bacon, 1 lb.,                                                  0s.  6d.
+ Cheese, 1 lb.,                                                 0s. 5½d.
+ Currants, Mr 1 lb.,                                            0s. 4½d.
+ Potatoes,                                                      1s.  0d.
+ Articles in which no material reduction has taken place,       5s. 1½d.
+   including rent,
+                                                               ———— ————
+                   Total week’s consumption,                   14s. 7½d.
+
+Thus the working man’s family in 1851 were enjoying the same scale of
+living for 3s. 1½d. less than it now costs them; and would have had 9s.
+4½d. left for clothing, &c., out of 24s. per week, if the same range of
+prices which were then existing had continued. Their present wages,
+however, have only been gained by them during the last few months. The
+utmost advance realised by any class of workmen has been 6d. per day;
+and such a family as we have instanced were called upon, by the
+increased prices to which their food has risen since 1851, to adopt one
+of these alternatives: Their wages of a guinea a-week, with 17s. 9d. of
+expenditure for food and lodging, leaving them only the insufficient
+margin of 3s. 3d. for clothing, medical attendance, malt liquor, &c.,
+they must either have gone back to their old scale of living, or
+insisted upon an advance of wages. The allowance of wheaten bread must
+have been curtailed and oatmeal substituted; a less comfortable dwelling
+must have been submitted to; their consumption of butchers’ meat must
+have been stinted; and they must have resigned altogether the whole, or
+a portion at least, of the luxuries contained in their dietary—tea,
+sugar, currants, &c., to the serious loss of the revenue. They
+preferred, and happily for them they have been able to obtain, the
+latter alternative, an increased remuneration for their labour. It is
+clear, however, that large as this increase has been, it has not placed
+the working man’s family in any better position than they occupied in
+1851. They have at present 3s. per week more to live upon; but their
+living costs them 3s. 2d. more.
+
+This, however, it will be said, is only the position of a family
+provided with constant work both in 1851 and at present. We readily
+admit that there is a class below this who are very materially better
+off now than they were in the former year. The condition of the working
+man who has now four or five days per week of employment, where he had
+formerly only three days, is materially improved, notwithstanding the
+recent advance in prices of commodities. But this is precisely the class
+which has been most materially benefited by the emigration of their
+competitors in the labour market, and by the activity which has been
+imparted to the internal enterprise of the country by our discoveries in
+Australia, and the enlargement of the currency resulting from them.
+
+It must be tolerably clear to most men that no portion of our working
+classes will readily submit to a reduced scale of living, either as the
+result, or the fancied result, of legislation, or from known ordinary
+causes. There is a further source of social danger in the circumstance
+that, having been taught that legislation had realised whatever benefits
+have accrued to them since the adoption of Free-Trade policy, they will
+be inclined to look to further legislation in the same direction for a
+remedy, whenever, through an advance in the price of the necessaries and
+comforts of life, or circumstances at present unforeseen, anything may
+occur to injure their position. They have tasted of those comforts; and
+they will insist upon enjoying them whatever other interests or
+institutions may have to be prostrated in order to bring about that
+result. Indeed, the Ministry of Lord Aberdeen, as shown by their policy
+during the whole of the past session, have impressed upon the minds of
+the working classes the fact that nothing will be permitted to stand in
+the way of further progress of the policy upon which the country has
+entered, or of cheapness for the consuming classes. With a view to
+relieve those classes, we have just witnessed an impost, which may be
+almost called one of spoliation, authorised to be levied upon the owners
+of our soil; and, ludicrous though its failure has been, the operation
+of the Chancellor of the Exchequer upon the interest of the National
+Debt may be only a prelude to what the fundholder may expect from a more
+unprincipled minister. We are not at all assured that even the national
+honour will be permitted, without a struggle, to stand in the way of
+cheapness of the necessaries of life. Happily society is at present
+undisturbed by the efforts of the political demagogue. Our Brights and
+Cobdens, and their “peace progress” associates, are at present too small
+a minority to dare embarking in an attempt to persuade the
+highest-souled nation on earth to embrace degradation. But signs and
+portents have not been wanting during the past two months, whilst we
+have been upon the verge of a collision with Russia, which, combined
+with the temporising course of her Majesty’s Ministers, ought to be
+seriously weighed by every patriotic man. The world at large, reading
+the tenor of our trade circulars, and looking at the same time at our
+tedious protocolling and negotiations with an aggressive power, may well
+draw the conclusion that England is more anxious for uninterrupted
+supplies of grain from the Black Sea than for the maintenance of her
+prestige as the leading power in Europe; and reflecting men may
+seriously ask the question—how long, in the present temper of the
+consuming masses, would a state of warfare be tolerated with patience?
+Unprincipled persons there are sufficient amongst us, who, although at
+present their bad passions are without a profitable sphere for their
+exercise, would willingly emerge from obscurity to undertake the task of
+inflaming the minds of our working masses, and who might probably do so
+successfully if they could point to dear food as the result of a manly
+and consistent foreign policy.
+
+Whatever may be the future price of food—and we are satisfied that it
+must maintain its present, if not a higher value, as measured in
+gold—there is another reason why we may look for a prematurely
+advanced rate of wages in this country. The great American continent
+is now bridged over, as it were, by a constant succession of
+passenger-ships—“clippers,” whose voyages rarely average above
+eighteen to twenty days, and of which eight or ten sail every week
+from the port of Liverpool, in addition to those which go from other
+ports of the United Kingdom. The postal arrangements between the two
+countries are as regular as those between London and Edinburgh. A
+month’s time suffices to exchange communications between this country
+and the Far West of the United States; and £5 or £6 will suffice to
+convey the British labourer or artisan to the prairies of the
+Mississippi, the Ohio, or the Western States of our North American
+colonies. Moreover, it is no longer to a new land, or amongst
+strangers, that the Celt and the Saxon now go to push their fortunes,
+and find new scope for their industry and enterprise. A hearty welcome
+awaits them in these countries from friends and relatives who have
+preceded them; and, in a majority of cases, it is the success of these
+pioneers which furnishes their connexions at home with the means of
+emigrating. Whilst high wages and prosperity prevail in new countries
+situated as the United States and Canada are, and must continue for
+years to be with respect to the old countries of Europe, it is sheer
+folly to imagine that low wages in those old countries can ever be
+secured. The cost of a passage across the Atlantic for an adult
+operative is insignificant, compared with that of a strike of even a
+few weeks’ duration; and the dangers and hardships of the voyage are
+regarded now, as compared with those contemplated by the emigrant a
+few years ago, very much like those attending modern railway
+travelling as compared with that by “the heavy stage,” which our
+great-grandfathers patronised, when the journey from Edinburgh to
+London was advertised to be performed in a fortnight—“God willing.” To
+a far greater extent than our statesmen imagined we are committed to
+the fortunes, and bound by the rate of labour, enjoyed by the working
+classes of the American Republic. If Free Trade, as was boasted, has
+placed Manchester alongside the valleys of the Mississippi, the
+increased facilities now afforded for emigration have also placed our
+operatives in closer proximity to their highly-paid American brethren.
+Those classes in Great Britain will never again succumb to the
+dictation of the capitalist, whilst there is afforded to them a way to
+the prosperity enjoyed by their fellow-labourers in the United States
+and Canada. And here a serious question arises for the consideration
+of those politico-economical schemers who have built up their
+expectations of manufacturing prosperity and enlarged foreign trade
+upon the basis of cheap production in this country. Great Britain
+cannot spin and weave for the world whilst her labouring population
+have the wages of new countries thus easily open, as we have seen, to
+their acceptance. We may command for a time the trade with our own
+colonies. The abundant capital of our merchants may maintain our
+commercial predominance for a time. But colonies situated as Australia
+and Canada are—the resort of the enterprise of every nation—will seek
+to be independent. Capital, the Free-Traders reminded us, owns no
+allegiance, and may command the cheap labour of countries differently
+situated to our own. It is worth the while of our manufacturing
+interest, whose selfishness has been manifested in our Free-Trade
+policy, to ponder upon the probable future operation of those signal
+events, which Providence seems to have thrown in the way of the
+realisation of their ambitious designs.
+
+But the middle classes—the men who exercise the franchise—surely these,
+it will be urged, are, and have been for some time past, in a condition
+of unqualified prosperity. The retailers in our large towns and
+boroughs, as distributors of commodities between the merchant, or the
+producer, and the consumer, must have been benefited materially by the
+enlarged consumption of the country. The assumption is a natural one,
+and yet it may be only partially true. The business of the retailer is
+one of which we possess no statistics. We have no means of gauging the
+results of his dealings. A larger amount of money may be passing through
+his hands now than formerly. Enhanced prices of every article in which
+he deals, independently of increased consumption of those articles, will
+account for his receipts being larger. But the great question to be
+solved is—are his profits increasing in the same ratio? It would be a
+healthy sign if we could find that the increased consumption of the
+country had operated to put an end to that ruinous competition which has
+for years past been going on amongst these classes;—a sign that the
+consumers, being in possession of increased means to buy, were willing
+to afford to those from whom they buy a fair remuneration for their
+industry and their capital. It would be most gratifying to find that
+puffery and clap-trap were declining amongst our shopkeepers; that
+frauds were less rife than formerly; that adulteration was no longer
+practised, and just weight and measure were universally meted out. We
+observe, however, none of these healthy signs of a profitable trade. On
+the contrary, we have evidence around us on every side, that the
+retailer has for some months past been placed, as it were, in a vice
+between two opposing conditions of the community, by whose custom he has
+to live. He has to fight against rising markets and dear labour on the
+one hand, and the determination of the consumer to insist upon cheapness
+on the other. For every purchase which he makes, he has to pay higher
+prices; and he can only extort these from the community after a severe
+struggle. He is, in fact, in the position of the traveller, who has no
+sooner surmounted one hill than he sees another on the path before him.
+It is notorious that this is always the case in rising markets. Every
+advance in the price of raw materials or other commodities is followed
+by a period of business without profits. Traders are withheld, by mutual
+jealousy and the fear of competition, from the necessary efforts for
+self-protection. Doubts intervene as to the permanency of such advanced
+prices. And when at length the step is resolved upon of demanding a
+corresponding advance from the consumer, it is frequently found that a
+further upward movement has taken place in the wholesale markets, which
+once more compels the retailer to resign the gain which he ought to
+derive from his industry. This has been the position of these classes
+during the whole of the past twelve months; and it is one in which
+capital is rapidly exhausted, especially in the case of men whose
+dealings are from hand to mouth, and whose means are limited. The
+tradesman of large means and extensive credit may buy a stock in advance
+of his consumption; and thus for a time protect himself from the loss
+which rising wholesale markets, unattended with higher retail prices,
+would occasion; but the small capitalist has no such resource. He is
+continually reversing the principle extolled by the Free-Trader, by
+buying in the dearest market and selling in the cheapest.
+
+The severity of this operation of rising markets has been very greatly
+increased on the present occasion by the prevailing temper and opinions
+of the consuming classes, especially throughout the manufacturing
+districts. They have been taught that free imports were to bring about a
+permanently low range of the prices of all commodities; and they are
+disposed to regard and to resist high prices, as the result of
+speculation on the part of the capitalist, or undue extortion on the
+part of the retailer. When being charged 8d. for a pound of beef or
+bacon, which a year ago was only worth 6d., or 10d. for a pound of
+butter, which a year ago was sold at only 7d., they have regarded the
+extra charge as something approaching to a fraud. It is of no use
+reminding those persons that they are themselves demanding from the
+community a higher price for their labour; and that dear labour involves
+dearness of every product of labour. They are deaf to such appeals to
+their reason, and resolutely ignore every fact which tends to account
+for the high prices of which they complain. The prosperity which they
+contemplated, and believed that they had secured by free imports, was
+one which the consumer could monopolise. Each class seems to have
+imagined that the remainder were to be prostrated for their own
+particular benefit.
+
+It is perfectly natural that, during such a struggle between the
+distributors and the consumers of commodities, and whilst competition
+was unabated amongst the former, no effort would be left untried by them
+to secure business and profit. The great object to be achieved was to
+induce a belief on the part of the consumer that he was not paying
+advanced prices, and was still in the enjoyment of the idol “cheapness.”
+This could only be done by the aid of adulteration, and deception of
+every kind; and never were these dishonest practices of traders more
+rife, throughout the manufacturing districts especially, than they have
+been of late. The price of flour began to rise towards the close of last
+year. From an average of about 21s. for the best quality of American, it
+has gradually risen to 28s. Was the price of bread advanced, in
+proportion, to the consumer? It was not—at least apparently. A less
+profit was submitted to by the baker and retailer; and wherever it was
+possible, just weight was withheld. For example, the small loaves,
+nominally of two pounds weight, with which the small shopkeepers are
+supplied for retailing amongst that portion of the working classes in
+the manufacturing districts whose payments are usually weekly ones, were
+not very perceptibly advanced in price, but decreased in weight. Twenty
+pounds of bread contained in such loaves were manufactured into twelve
+or thirteen, nominally of two pounds each, instead of ten. The price to
+the consumer of each loaf remained the same. Although tallow has risen
+in price at least thirty per cent, the price of the candles principally
+consumed by the working classes remained mysteriously almost the same.
+We have had this accounted for by the fact that dishonest manufacturers
+have been supplying equally dishonest tradesmen with the article in
+quantities, purporting to be pounds in weight, but, in reality, two or
+three ounces less. Thus, candles sold as twelve, fourteen, or sixteen to
+the pound, contain still _the number_ represented; but, as the buyer
+never asks to have them weighed, as he does beef or mutton, they are
+short of the proper _weight_. This practice has lately been shown to
+prevail throughout a great portion of the manufacturing districts,
+especially of the north of Lancashire and the West Riding of Yorkshire.
+The adulteration of coffee with chicory, it is well known, has prevailed
+so long, and the tastes of the consuming classes have become so
+accustomed to the mixed article, that the Legislature has had to submit
+to its permanent practice. Cheatery of every description, in short, has
+been resorted to by the dishonest trader, to disguise from the consumer
+the fact of dearness, and to wring a profit from the low range of prices
+which alone the public are disposed to tolerate; whilst the honest
+trader, who is not willing to descend to such arts, has been carrying on
+a continually losing business, and contemplating in despair the gradual
+absorption of his capital.
+
+Unfortunately there are not in existence the requisite data to enable us
+to arrive at the precise position of these classes as compared with that
+which they formerly occupied. The humbler portions of them—the small
+retailers in our large towns and manufacturing districts—were never in
+the habit of attaining a place in that truth-telling and widely-read
+record, the _London Gazette_. They embark in their petty course of
+ambition, trusting to the enterprise which they feel stirring within
+them for a successful result; and when the reverse comes, and
+disappointment is their lot, they retire from the struggle, disappear
+amongst the classes from which they rose, and are forgotten. The other
+sources of information, with respect to the condition of these classes,
+have been so altered recently, since the extension of increased powers
+to the County Courts, that the means of an accurate comparison of any
+two periods are wanting. Moreover, the resort to legal proceedings, in
+cases of insolvency, is less now than in former years. Compositions and
+amicable private arrangements between creditors and debtors are found to
+be cheaper, and more satisfactory in their results, than the ordinary
+formal modes of proceeding. Hence the statistician, who would fain
+persuade mankind that nothing of ill exists in the world save that which
+such records reveal, can prate glibly of prosperity to classes, who,
+knowing the reality of their own position, must feel such prating to be
+a bitter mockery. The facts which we have shown above, as to the
+tendency of rising markets to decrease the profits of the retailer’s
+trade, are sufficient of themselves to prove that he cannot, at the
+present moment, be in the enjoyment of a satisfactory position; and we
+have the further fact to adduce, that at no previous period was credit
+more reluctantly extended to that class than at present. The merchant
+and the wholesale dealer are well aware, and watch well when the
+retailing classes are doing business without profit. They are aware when
+those classes are living upon their capital. And that a large portion of
+them are doing so at this moment, and have been so for many months past,
+is clear, not only from the increased jealousy of the wholesale dealer,
+but also from their almost general exclusion from the benefits of a
+money market which, up to within the last few weeks, might be fairly
+described as “easy” to most other classes. The extensive merchant who
+has produce in his hands to pledge, or the speculator who can raise
+capital of his own equal to cover the probable margin of loss to arise
+from his temporary investment, can command almost unlimited pecuniary
+accommodation, on tolerably reasonable terms. But the same facilities
+are not open to the retailer, who may for a time require an increase of
+his means. To this class money is always dear. It is to be had by the
+bulk of them only upon usurious terms. The retailer cannot command a
+capital by paying in to his banker small bills drawn upon his customers.
+He must resort to the Loan Society, to the Insurance Office, or to the
+moneylender, whose terms are even more ruinous than those of the
+previously mentioned parties; and it is a sad fact that such modes of
+raising money are more practised amongst tradesmen of the present day
+than formerly. We can scarcely glance over the columns of a newspaper
+published in any of our large commercial towns, without observing one or
+more advertisements of societies professing to lend money on personal
+security, repayable by instalments, the interest of which is seldom less
+than ten per cent; or of insurance companies, whose directors hold out
+to parties in want of money the inducement that life policies may be
+pledged, and the provision which might have been made, through the
+beneficial medium of insurance, for a widow or an orphan family,
+anticipated, for the purpose of bolstering up perhaps unprofitable
+speculations. There is known to be existing amongst the trading classes
+an underground ramification of involvements of this description, which
+would startle the world if it could be brought to light, as it is seen
+occasionally in the schedules of insolvents in our Bankruptcy and our
+County Courts. The most profitable business would not suffice to
+maintain a man who is paying ten to twenty per cent for every money
+accommodation which he may require in temporary emergencies, and is
+besides compelled from time to time to make up the defalcations of
+friends, between whom and himself a mutual system of guaranteeship for
+loans is constantly existing. The evil is not by any means confined to
+the small trading classes, but prevails as well amongst our working
+classes. We have loan societies whose accommodations range from £3 to
+£10 or £15, which the working man too frequently avails himself of to
+enable him to expend upon excursion trips, and other extravagancies
+scarcely justified by his station in life. We have, too, modes of
+anticipating the incomes of the working classes even less legitimate
+than the legalised loan societies. During this very week we find
+recorded, in a Manchester paper, the existence, throughout a large
+portion of the manufacturing districts, of clubs, the parties engaged in
+which pay small weekly instalments, as low even as a shilling or
+sixpence, and gamble with the dice, or draw lots for the privilege of
+having the whole sum—say of forty shillings or five pounds, for which
+they are responsible—advanced on personal guarantee. Another festering
+sore in the body politic is the present amazing increase, especially in
+the manufacturing districts, of what in the metropolis is called the
+“tally system,” but is elsewhere better known as dealing with
+“Scotchmen,” or “weekly men.” It argues little in favour of the
+provident character of our manufacturing operatives, that thousands of
+hard-working and industrious families amongst them purchase the bulk of
+their clothing from these men, at prices ranging from 40 to 60 per cent
+above the fair value of the articles, not only to their own manifest
+injury, but also to that of the legitimate trader. These men are to be
+seen in every manufacturing town and village, yard-stick in hand, and
+parcels of patterns and collecting-books protruding from their capacious
+pockets, perambulating the small streets and courts inhabited by our
+working classes, too often to wring their gains from simple-minded
+wives, whose husbands are unconscious of the indebtedness incurred,
+until made aware of the fact by a summons from the county or some other
+petty court of law. Not above twelve months ago _one_ of these Scotchmen
+in a manufacturing borough in Lancashire had no fewer than fifty cases
+for hearing in a single fortnightly session of the County Court there;
+and it is not uncommon to find upwards of one-half of the cases tried at
+these courts, in the manufacturing districts, to consist of actions for
+debts incurred in the manner we have described. So largely has the
+number of this class of traders increased of late, that they have become
+a distinct _power_, and, in some of our boroughs, can determine the
+result of an election—in favour of Whig-Radicalism, by the by; for your
+travelling Scotch draper is invariably attached to “liberal” politics.
+In one borough in Lancashire with which we are acquainted, it is
+computed that they possess, amongst their own body, no less than eighty
+or ninety votes; and at the last two elections those votes decided the
+results of the contests.
+
+Under such circumstances it would be most rash, at any time, to assert
+the existence of great prosperity, either of the retail traders or of
+our manufacturing operatives, merely from external appearances, or from
+the ordinary tests of employment and increased consumption of the
+necessaries of life. We know that at present there do exist all the
+external appearances of such prosperity; but we know also that there is
+a restlessness being manifested amongst those classes, which is
+incompatible with a perfect satisfaction with their real position. We
+have to bear in mind always, whilst speculating upon the state of the
+small traders in particular, that they form a class whose numbers are
+readily recruited during a period of actual or apparent prosperity.
+Little encouragement suffices to induce the well-to-do operative,
+disgusted with the arduous toil required from him in his legitimate
+sphere, to embark in the apparently more easy avocations of the small
+dealer; and since we have placed so large a share of the political power
+of the country in the hands of these classes, it is most important that
+we should not be misled as to their social condition, and the amount of
+prosperity which they are enjoying. We have taught them to believe that
+it is within the power of legislation alone to command that prosperity
+for them; we have taught the working classes, too, that it is in the
+power of legislation to bring about cheapness contemporaneously with
+highly remunerated labour; yet we see abundant elements at work, which
+point to dearness in prospect as the result. We see the prices of raw
+materials and produce rising in every foreign market as the result, in
+part at least, of an increase of the precious metals throughout the
+world. We see foreign enterprise and industry everywhere stimulated by
+increased monetary facilities afforded to the masses of the people,
+whilst such increased facilities at home never extend below the
+privileged classes, who are permitted to negotiate directly with the
+banker and the capitalist. We see the bulk of the transactions of the
+country, and especially the distribution of food and other necessaries,
+falling day by day more extensively into the hands of those classes who
+can avail themselves of cheap money; whilst all below them the very
+nature of our existing banking system drives into the hands of the
+usurious lender, unless they are contented to restrict their dealings to
+little beyond the supply of their daily wants. What must be the course
+of the great masses of our population, should their present doubtful
+prosperity altogether disappear; or should high prices and reduced
+profits press them further than at present towards the necessity of
+curtailing their enjoyment of material comforts? It is not difficult to
+perceive that a demand must arise for continual further reductions of
+taxation, and consequent reductions of the public expenditure. We have
+gone almost as far as we can go in dealing with those duties whose
+removal is followed by such an amount of increased consumption as will
+protect our customs’ revenue from exhaustion. The numerous small items
+the taxation of which was well-nigh unfelt, although, in the aggregate,
+it was productive, are being rapidly swept away; and there remain none
+for the financier to operate upon save the few large imposts, the
+removal of any one of which would be almost equivalent to national
+bankruptcy. If interference with these is denied, a demand must arise
+either for such a diminution of the public expenditure as is
+incompatible with the maintenance of the national honour and security,
+or for a decrease in the interest of the public debt. Mr Gladstone’s
+financial abortions have shown us, with tolerable distinctness, that, in
+the existing state of our monetary laws, a permanently reduced rate of
+interest is inconsistent with increased imports and an enlarged trade.
+Whilst the specie, which regulates the quantity of money which is
+permitted to circulate, is constantly liable to be drawn away to meet
+adverse balances of trade, such as we have now with almost every country
+of the globe, a reduction in the pressure of our indebtedness is
+impracticable, except by a stretch of power on the part of the
+legislature, which must for ever stamp us as an unprincipled people.
+With the important question of the currency, however, we repeat that we
+have no intention of meddling in this article. Our object has been
+simply to examine carefully the actual condition of our industrious
+classes, and to endeavour to trace that condition to its true causes; we
+leave to others to draw conclusions, and to point the way to a remedy,
+should further experience prove that a remedy is required.
+
+  LIVERPOOL, _13th August 1853_.
+
+
+           _Printed by William Blackwood & Sons, Edinburgh._
+
+-----
+
+Footnote 1:
+
+  _History of Scotland from the Revolution, &c._ By JOHN HILL BURTON. 2
+  vols. London: 1853.
+
+Footnote 2:
+
+  _Wanderungen durch London_, von Max Schlesinger. Two volumes. Berlin:
+  Duncker. London: Williams and Norgate. 1853.
+
+Footnote 3:
+
+  _Curiosities of Modern Shakesperian Criticism_. By J. O. HALLIWELL,
+  Esq. 1853.
+
+  _Observations on some of the Manuscript Emendations of Shakespeare,
+  and are they Copyright?_ By J. O. HALLIWELL, Esq. 1853.
+
+  _J. Payne Collier’s alte handschriftliche Emendationen zum Shakespeare
+  gewurdigt von Dr Nicolaus Delius._ Bonn, 1853.
+
+  The original text of Shakespeare has obtained two stanch and able
+  defenders in the persons of these two gentlemen. Mr Halliwell’s
+  competency to deal with the text of our great poet, and with all that
+  concerns him, is, we believe, all but universally acknowledged—the
+  best proof of which is the confidence reposed in him by the
+  subscribers to the magnificent edition now publishing under his
+  auspices; a confidence which, we are convinced, he will not betray by
+  any ill-judged deviations from the authentic readings. Dr Delius’s
+  pamphlet contains a very acute dissection of the pretended evidence by
+  which Mr Collier endeavours to support the pretended emendations of
+  his MS. corrector. It is characterised by great soundness of judgment,
+  and displays a critical knowledge of the English language altogether
+  astonishing in a foreigner. He may be at fault in one or two small
+  matters, but the whole tenor of his observations proves that he is
+  highly competent to execute the task which, as we learn from his
+  announcement, he has undertaken—the publication, namely, of an edition
+  of the _English_ text of Shakespeare with _German_ notes. We look
+  forward with much interest to the publication of this work, as
+  affording further evidence of the strong hold which Shakespeare has
+  taken on the minds of Germany, and as a further tribute of admiration,
+  added to the many which they have already paid to the genius of our
+  immortal countryman.
+
+Footnote 4:
+
+  The German translators Tieck and Schlegel adopt the reading of the
+  first folio, _tongue_, for “gown,” and translate,
+
+             “Warum soll hier mit _Wolfsgeheul_ ich stehen.”
+
+  Dr Delius concurs with his countrymen, and remarks that the boldness
+  of Shakespeare’s constructions readily admits of our connecting the
+  words “in this wolfish tongue” with the words “to beg.” Now, admirable
+  as we believe Dr Delius’ English scholarship to be, he must permit us
+  to say that this is a point which can be determined only by a native
+  of this country, and that the construction which he proposes is not
+  consistent with the idiom of our language. Even the German idiom
+  requires _with_ (mit), and not _in_, a wolf’s cry. We cannot recommend
+  him to introduce _tongue_ into his text of our poet.
+
+Footnote 5:
+
+  _The Structure and Distribution of Coral Reefs._ By CHARLES DARWIN,
+  M.A., F.R.S., F.G.S. London: Smith, Elder, and Co. 1842.
+
+  _The Structure and Classification of Zoophytes._ By JAMES D. DANA,
+  A.M. Philadelphia: Lea and Blanchard. 1846.
+
+Footnote 6:
+
+  WILKES’S _United States Exploring Expedition_, vol. ii. p. 130, (ed.
+  1852.)
+
+Footnote 7:
+
+  ELIS’S _Polynesian Researches_, vol. ii. p. 2.
+
+Footnote 8:
+
+  _Kotzebue’s Voyage_, 1815–1818. Vol. iii. p. 333.
+
+Footnote 9:
+
+  Mr DARWIN’S _Coral Reefs_, p. 142. The only supposed exception to this
+  remarkable coincidence, at the time when Mr Darwin wrote, in 1842, was
+  the volcano of Torres Strait, at the northern point of Australia,
+  placed on the borders of an area of subsidence; but it has been since
+  proved that this volcano has no existence. Sir CHARLES LYELL’S
+  _Principles of Geology_. 8th edit. p. 767.
+
+Footnote 10:
+
+  This expression, as applied to many of the coral polyps, must be taken
+  in a somewhat qualified sense. Many of them are of a fleshy
+  consistence.
+
+Footnote 11:
+
+  A reduction of duty of 2s. on foreign has taken place during these
+  periods.
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+
+
+
+                          TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
+
+
+ ● Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.
+ ● Used numbers for footnotes, placing them all at the end of the last
+     chapter.
+ ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76979 ***
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+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76979 ***</div>
+
+<div class='tnotes covernote'>
+
+<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p>
+
+<p class='c000'>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='titlepage'>
+
+<div>
+  <h1 class='c001'>BLACKWOOD’S<br> EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.<br> <span class='xlarge'><span class='sc'>No. CCCCLV.</span>&#8196; &#8196; &#8196; SEPTEMBER, 1853.&#8196; &#8196; &#8196; <span class='sc'>Vol. LXXIV.</span></span></h1>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <h2 class='c002'>CONTENTS.</h2>
+</div>
+<table class='table0'>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Scotland since the Union</span>,</td>
+    <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_263'>263</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Foreign Estimates of England</span>,</td>
+    <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_284'>284</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>New Readings in Shakespeare.—No. II.</span>,</td>
+    <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_303'>303</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>The Duke’s Dilemma: a Chronicle of Niesenstein</span>,</td>
+    <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_325'>325</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Lady Lee’s Widowhood.—Part IX.</span>,</td>
+    <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_342'>342</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>Coral Rings</span>,</td>
+    <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_360'>360</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>The Aged Disciple comforting</span>,</td>
+    <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_371'>371</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'><span class='sc'>The Extent and the Causes of our Prosperity</span>,</td>
+    <td class='c004'><a href='#Page_373'>373</a></td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+  <div class='nf-center'>
+    <div><span class='large'>EDINBURGH:</span></div>
+    <div>WILLIAM BLACKWOOD &#38; SONS, 45 GEORGE STREET;</div>
+    <div>AND 37 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON.</div>
+    <div class='c005'><i>To whom all communications (post paid) must be addressed.</i></div>
+    <div class='c005'>SOLD BY ALL THE BOOKSELLERS IN THE UNITED KINGDOM.</div>
+    <div class='c006'>PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH.</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span></div>
+<div class='chapter ph1'>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c007'>
+    <div>BLACKWOOD’S</div>
+    <div class='c005'>EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.</div>
+    <div class='c005'><span class='xlarge'><span class='sc'>No. CCCCLV.</span>&#8196; &#8196; &#8196; SEPTEMBER, 1853.&#8196; &#8196; &#8196; <span class='sc'>Vol. LXXIV.</span></span></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <h2 class='c002'>SCOTLAND SINCE THE UNION.<a id='r1'></a><a href='#f1' class='c008'><sup>[1]</sup></a></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c009'>Notwithstanding all that has
+been said regarding the strict impartiality
+required from an historian,
+we are of opinion that the theory,
+however proper and plausible, can
+hardly be reduced to practice by any
+writer whilst treating of affairs in
+which he must feel a national or political
+interest. If facts alone were
+to be dealt with, it might, at first
+sight, appear no very difficult task
+to present an accurate and orderly
+array of these. But no one who has
+had occasion to investigate minutely
+contemporary records, for the purpose
+of arriving, if possible, at a clear and
+distinct understanding of the details
+of any one particular transaction, can
+have failed to remark the startling
+discrepancies and gross contradictions
+which meet him at every turn. There
+is, indeed, a common skeleton or
+framework, but the clay which is cast
+around it, and moulded into form,
+differs in shape according to the peculiar
+instincts of the artist. Even
+diarists, who might be supposed to be
+impartial, as labouring solely for their
+own gratification, are by no means to
+be implicitly received in regard to
+what they set down. The many
+tongues of rumour begin to babble
+contrariety almost as soon as a deed
+is acted. You cannot be certain that
+the event of yesterday is narrated to
+you one whit more faithfully than that
+which occurred a hundred years ago.
+All men have their prepossessions and
+tendencies towards belief—what they
+wish they accept without investigation;
+and discard with as little ceremony
+all that is obnoxious to their
+views. Men there are, undoubtedly,
+at all times, who cannot be termed
+partisans, seeing that they have no
+leaning to one side or other of a dispute;
+but theirs is the impartiality
+of indifference, not of conscientiousness.
+And as it rarely happens that
+a man thinks it worth his while to
+preserve a record of events in which
+he does not feel a vivid interest, history
+receives very little assistance
+from the contributions of cold-blooded
+spectators. Take any event of moderate
+remoteness; and, if it be of such
+a nature as to excite party antagonism,
+you will find, almost invariably,
+that the real evidence is resoluble into
+two parts—one of assertion and one of
+contradiction. For example, even a circumstance
+so publicly notorious as a
+political execution, shall be related by
+two eyewitnesses in a totally different
+manner. One of them, whose
+opinions are precisely identical with
+those of the victim, describes his bearing
+and demeanour at the scaffold as
+heroic, and claims for him the sympathy
+of the populace—the other, who
+regards him as a criminal of the deepest
+dye, charges him with cowardly
+pusillanimity, and declares that he departed
+from this life amidst the execrations
+of the mob. As to what took
+place before the execution, when the
+prisoner was necessarily secluded from
+the eyes of both witnesses, that must
+ever remain a mystery. The friend
+portrays him as a Christian martyr,
+surrounded by fiends in human shape,
+whose delight was to insult his misfortunes—the
+enemy would have you
+look upon him as a poltroon, whose
+fear of death was so abject as to overcome
+all his other faculties. So difficult
+is it, even at the source, to acquire
+accurate information as to the complexion
+of the facts upon which subsequent
+historians must found.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Passing from facts to motives, there
+is of course much greater discrepancy.
+The grand outlines of history cannot
+be violently distorted, though the
+accessories constantly are. Certain
+landmarks remain, like mountains,
+unchangeable in their form, though
+the portraying artist may invest them
+either with sunshine or with storm.
+But in dealing with the characters of
+public men, historians are rarely liberal,
+almost never impartial. They
+judge the man, not only by his cause,
+but by their estimate of his cause. If
+the tendencies of the writer are puritanical,
+he will see no merit in the
+devotion, loyalty, and courted sufferings
+of the cavalier; nay, he will
+often insinuate that he was actuated
+by baser motives. On the other hand,
+the writer who detests the violence
+and condemns the principles of the
+Parliamentarian faction, is too apt to
+include, in his general censure, men
+of unblemished life and irreproachable
+private character. And the temptation
+to exaggerate becomes all the
+greater, because exaggeration has already
+been practised on the other side.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mr Burton, in his praiseworthy
+endeavours to elucidate the history
+of Scotland from the Revolution of
+1688, down to the suppression of the
+Jacobite cause in 1746, has exhibited,
+throughout his work, very little of the
+spirit of the partisan. In this respect
+he is entitled to much credit—the
+more so perhaps, as, had he chosen to
+adopt the other course, he might have
+pleaded the example of a brilliant
+living authority, who is rather to be
+regarded as a fashioner than as a
+truthful exponent of history. His
+subject, too, is a difficult one, and
+such as few men living could approach
+without exhibiting a decided bias on
+one side or on the other. In Scotland,
+religious and political zeal run constantly
+into extremes, so that zealotry
+perhaps is the more appropriate term.
+There was no considerable neutral
+party in the country, constituted as it
+then was, to recall the others to reason,
+or to temper their stern enthusiasm;
+and hence arose that series of
+conflicts and commotions which, for
+more than a century, convulsed the
+kingdom. Even now, men are not
+agreed as to the points on which their
+ancestors disputed. They have inherited,
+concerning the events of the past,
+a political faith which they will not
+surrender; and the old leaven is seen
+to affect the consistency of modern
+character. From this sort of party
+spirit Mr Burton is remarkably free.
+He has diligently collected facts from
+every available source, but he has not
+allowed himself to be swayed by the
+deductions of previous writers. In
+forming his estimate of public characters,
+he has dismissed from his mind,
+as much perhaps as it was possible
+for man to do, the extravagant eulogy
+of the friend, and the indiscriminate
+abuse of the opponent; and it must
+be acknowledged that many of his
+individual portraits impress us with
+the idea of reality, though they differ
+widely in resemblance from the handiwork
+of other artists. A book of history,
+constructed on such principles,
+though it may not excite enthusiasm,
+is undeniably entitled to respect; and
+as Mr Burton was eminently qualified,
+by his previous studies and pursuits,
+to undertake this difficult task, we are
+glad at length to receive from his
+hands so valuable a contribution to
+the history of Scottish affairs during
+a period of peculiar importance.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If it were our intention to enter into
+a minute consideration of the subject-matter
+of the work, we should be
+inclined to take exception to some
+portions of the narrative, as calculated
+to convey erroneous impressions as to
+the social state of the country. We
+have already said that, as a political
+chronicler, Mr Burton may be considered
+as remarkably free from prejudice.
+We ought to add that he is
+equally fair in his estimate and analysis
+of the religious differences which
+were, in Scotland, for a long period,
+the fruitful sources of discord; and
+that he has succeeded, better than
+any former historian, in explaining the
+nature of the ecclesiastical difficulties
+which—arising out of the intricate
+question of the connection between
+Church and State, and the efforts of
+the latter to restrain the former from
+arrogating, as had been done before,
+an entire and dogmatic independence
+of action—have resulted in repeated
+secessions from the main Presbyterian
+body. But we cannot accord him the
+same meed of praise for his sketches
+of the Highlanders, and his attempted
+delineation of their character. The
+martial events of last century, in
+which the Highlanders were principally
+engaged, have given them, in
+the eyes of strangers, a prominence
+greater than is their due; so that,
+even at the present day, Englishmen
+and foreigners are apt, when reference
+is made to Scotland, to form an entirely
+mistaken view as to the bulk of
+the population. Many of the present
+generation must remember the singular
+spectacle which Edinburgh displayed
+during the visit of George IV.,
+when the tartan mania was at its
+height, and the boundary of the clans
+seemed to have been extended from
+the Highland line to the Tweed.
+There was no harm in such a demonstration,
+but it tended to generate
+and diffuse false ideas; which,
+however, may be corrected without
+unduly lowering the position of the
+Highlanders, or denying them that
+consideration which their valour undoubtedly
+deserves. When we remember
+the materials of which the
+armies of Montrose, Dundee, Mar, and
+Charles Edward were composed, we
+should be slow to credit the assertion
+that the Highlanders have played an
+unimportant part in Scottish history;
+nor can we assent to the sweeping
+propositions advanced by writers who,
+for years past, have been ringing the
+changes upon what they are pleased
+to term the superiority of the Anglo-Saxon
+race, over every other sept
+which has a distinct name, and especially
+over such of the inhabitants of
+the British Isles as are supposed to be
+of a different descent. Notwithstanding
+the vast intermixture of blood
+which has taken place, there are undoubtedly
+visible, even at the present
+day, in so small a country as Scotland,
+very marked peculiarities of race; but,
+without descending to the minute distinctions
+of the antiquarian, the Scottish
+nation has, by popular consent,
+been long divided into two sections,
+territorially separated—the Lowlanders
+and the Highlanders. Whatever
+may have been the origin of the Lowlanders,
+it is at all events certain that
+up to the reign of Malcolm III. there
+were few or no Saxons in the land.
+“Malcolm,” says Hailes, “had passed
+his youth at the English court; he
+married an Anglo-Saxon princess; he
+afforded an asylum in his dominions to
+many English and Norman malcontents.
+The king appeared in public with
+a state and retinue unknown in more
+rude and simple times, and affected to
+give frequent and sumptuous entertainments
+to his nobles. The natives
+of Scotland, tenacious of their ancient
+customs, viewed with disgust the introduction
+of foreign manners, and
+secretly censured the favour shown to
+the English and Norman adventurers,
+as proceeding from injurious partiality.”
+Of many important districts on
+the coasts, the Scandinavians acquired
+and retained possession, and some of
+the nobility and gentry are undoubtedly
+of Norman descent. But the old
+names, such as those of Douglas,
+Graham, Ogilvie, and Keith, are indigenous
+to the country, and have no
+more affinity with the Saxon than
+they have with the Hungarian race.
+Alexander III.—whose accidental
+death at Kinghorn led to the nefarious
+attempts of the English Edward
+upon the liberties of a free nation—was
+the last of a long line of Celtic
+monarchs, in whom, however, it is
+not now the fashion for our petty virtuosos
+to believe. That descent, which
+tradition had preserved from times of
+the remotest antiquity—which was
+referred to as acknowledged fact in
+the public acts of the legislature and
+official documents of the kingdom—which
+was not refuted nor denied when
+advanced as a plea against the pretended
+right of suzerainty asserted for
+the English crown—which such men
+as Fletcher and Belhaven cited in the
+course of their arguments against an
+entire incorporating union—is sneered
+at by modern antiquaries who have
+nothing to substitute for the faith
+which they seek to overthrow. Indeed,
+to call such gentlemen antiquaries,
+is a direct abuse of language.
+Scriblerus, we are told, flew into a
+violent passion when, by dint of unnecessary
+scouring, his handmaid demonstrated
+that the ancient buckler
+in which he prided himself, was nothing
+more than a rusty pot lid. His
+successors take the scouring into their
+own hands, and deny the possibility
+of a buckler. Our present business,
+however, is not with the pseudo-antiquaries—for
+whom we entertain a sentiment
+bordering very closely upon
+contempt—we simply wish to show
+that the term Saxon, as applied to the
+Scottish Lowlanders, is altogether inappropriate;
+and that, if there is any
+remarkable degree of energy in their
+character which distinguishes them
+from the Highlanders, it does not, at
+all events, arise from a superabundant
+infusion of the Anglo-Saxon blood.
+Energy, indeed, is about the last quality
+that can be claimed for the Saxons.
+They were brave, no doubt, but also
+intensely phlegmatic; and, in point of
+intellect, were not to be compared
+either to the Normans or the Danes.
+They were smally endowed with that
+imaginative faculty which is so remarkable
+a characteristic of the Celtic
+race—displayed but little aptitude for
+proficiency in the arts—and in all matters
+of taste and cultivation were exceedingly
+slow and unimpressible.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Owing to the peculiar nature of the
+country in which they were located,
+and to their obstinate adherence to
+the patriarchal, as opposed to the
+feudal system, the Highlanders retained
+not only their speech but their
+original manners and customs, while
+the Lowlanders were gradually altering
+theirs. Thus there came to be,
+within the same country, and nominally
+owing allegiance to the same
+sovereign, two great sections which
+held but little intercourse with each
+other. Still they were both Scots, and
+gathered round the same standard.
+At Bannockburn and at Flodden, the
+Highland chief and clansman fought
+alongside of the Lowland knight and
+man-at-arms; and some of the most
+powerful heads of tribes stood high in
+the roll of the nobility. In this way
+the Highland influence, important on
+account of the warlike material which
+it commanded, was always more or less
+powerfully represented at the court of
+Scotland; and although the southern
+population generally saw little, and
+knew less, of their northern neighbours,
+it is not true that there existed
+between them a feeling of strong animosity.
+Raids and reprisals there
+were undoubtedly; but these were
+common from Caithness to the border.
+The strife was not always between the
+tartan and the broadcloth. Scotts
+and Kerrs, Johnstones and Maxwells,
+fought and harried one another with
+as much ferocity as did the Campbells,
+Macdonalds, and M‘Leans in their
+mountain country; nor, if we are to
+trust contemporary accounts, is it very
+clear that the former were decidedly
+superior in civilisation to the latter.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mr Burton, we think, has not done
+full justice to the Highland character.
+Whatever may be thought of the abstract
+merits of the cause which they
+espoused, the resolute adherence of
+the Highland clans to the exiled
+family, the surprising efforts which
+they made, and sufferings which they
+endured in the last memorable outbreak,
+must ever command our sympathy,
+and excite our warm admiration.
+Surely Mr Burton might have
+been contented with narrating the fact
+that, notwithstanding the reward of
+thirty thousand pounds offered for the
+apprehension of Prince Charles Edward,
+none of the poor Highlanders
+or outlaws whom he encountered in
+his wanderings would stoop to the
+treachery of betraying him, without
+suggesting that the amount “was too
+large for their imagination practically
+to grasp as an available fund”! The
+same under-current of depreciation
+towards the Highlanders is visible in
+his account of the atrocious massacre
+of Glencoe, and even in the half-apologetic
+manner in which he palliates,
+though not excuses, the butcheries of
+Cumberland after the battle of Culloden.
+It is necessary to note these
+blemishes, the rather because they
+occur in a work distinguished, in other
+respects, for a high degree of accuracy.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>We have the less inclination to
+enter upon disputed grounds, because
+the points on which we differ from
+Mr Burton are not of practical moment.
+The political intrigues and
+risings of the last century have not
+left any permanent effect upon the
+social condition of the country; but
+the subsequent blending together of
+the Lowland and Highland population,
+and the establishment throughout
+the country of a uniform administration
+of the laws, have been productive
+of the happiest results. So
+far the changes have wrought well
+within Scotland. But the great event
+of last century undoubtedly is the
+union between England and Scotland,
+which, often proposed, and long delayed
+by mutual jealousy and clashing
+interests, has elevated Great Britain
+to the foremost rank among the European
+states.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>That union was carried into effect,
+not as the result of any sympathy between
+the English and Scottish nations—for
+antipathy rather than sympathy
+was felt on both sides—but as
+an absolute political necessity. In
+truth, such an event was an almost
+inevitable sequel to the union of the
+crowns in the person of one monarch,
+at least if that arrangement was to be
+maintained; and it could not be long
+delayed. There is, in Lockhart’s
+Papers, an anecdote which shows how
+early this was foreseen. “We are
+told,” says he, “that when King
+James was preparing to go and take
+possession of his crown of England,
+his subjects of Scotland came to take
+their leave of him, and attend him
+part of his way thither with all the
+state and magnificence imaginable;
+but amongst these numerous attendants,
+decked up in their finest apparel,
+and mounted on their best horses,
+there appeared an old reverend gentleman
+of Fife, clothed all over in the
+deepest mourning; and being asked
+why, whilst all were contending to
+appear most gay on such an occasion,
+he should be so singular? ‘Why,
+truly,’ replied he, ‘there is none of you
+congratulate His Majesty’s good fortune
+more than I do, and here I am
+to perform my duty to him. I have
+often marched this road, and entered
+England in an hostile manner, and
+then I was as well accoutered in
+clothes, horses, and arms, as my
+neighbours, and suitable to the occasion;
+but since I look upon this procession
+as Scotland’s funeral solemnity,
+I’m come to perform my last
+duty to my deceased and beloved
+country, with a heart full of grief,
+and in a dress correspondent thereto.’
+This gentleman, it seems, foresaw
+that, by the removal of the king’s
+residence from Scotland, the subject
+wanted an occasion of making so immediate
+an application to the fountain
+of justice, and the state of the nation
+could not be so well understood by
+the king; so that the interest and
+concerns of every particular person,
+and likewise of the nation in general,
+would be committed to the care of the
+ministers of state, who, acting with
+a view to themselves, could not fail to
+oppress the people. He foresaw that
+England, being a greater kingdom,
+made (as said Henry VII. when he
+gave his daughter to the King of
+Scotland rather than the King of
+France) an acquisition of Scotland,
+and that the king would be under a
+necessity of siding with, and pleasing
+the most powerful of his two kingdoms,
+which were jealous of, and
+rivals to, one another; and that,
+therefore, ever after the union of
+the crowns, the king would not mind,
+at least dare encourage, the trades of
+Scotland; and that all state affairs
+would be managed, laws made and
+observed, ministers of state put in and
+turned out, as suited best with the
+interest and designs of England; by
+which means trade would decay, the
+people be oppressed, and the nobility
+and great men become altogether corrupted.”
+These anticipations—though
+probably confined to a few who were
+not dazzled at the prospect of the
+enormous succession which had opened
+to their prince, nor rendered blind to
+the future by the splendour of the
+present triumph—were afterwards
+thoroughly realised. From the union
+of the crowns, Scotland derived no
+permanent benefit, but the reverse.
+She retained, indeed, her parliament;
+but she had parted with the presence
+of her sovereign, who was entirely
+surrounded and swayed by English
+influence. Whenever the interests of
+the two countries clashed—and that
+was not seldom—the weaker was sure
+to suffer; and thus, instead of increasing
+amity, a feeling even bitterer than
+that which had existed while the
+kingdoms were entirely independent,
+was engendered. No wonder that
+there were rebellions and outbreaks;
+for, in a political point of view, it
+would have been better for Scotland
+to have had no king at all, than to
+owe allegiance to one who was necessarily
+under English dictation. Hence,
+instead of advancing like England,
+steadily in the path of prosperity,
+Scotland rapidly decayed—until, to
+use the words of an historian of the
+union—“in process of time, the nobility
+and gentry turned, generally
+speaking, so corrupted by the constant
+and long tract of discouragement
+to all that endeavoured to rectify
+the abuses and advance the interests
+of the country, that the same was entirely
+neglected, and religion, justice,
+and trade made tools of to advance
+the private and sinister designs of
+selfish men; and thus the nation,
+being for a hundred years in a manner
+without a head, and ravaged and
+gutted by a parcel of renegadoes, became,
+from a flourishing, happy people,
+extremely miserable.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Passages like the foregoing are apt
+to be regarded as general complaints,
+which hardly could be substantiated
+by reference to special instances.
+There is, however, abundance of evidence
+to show that Scotland, during
+the period which intervened between
+the union of the crowns and that of
+the kingdoms, was greatly depressed
+by the influence and policy of her
+more powerful neighbour. Under
+Cromwell, an entire freedom of trade
+had been established between the
+two countries. His ordinance was
+as follows: “That all customs, excise,
+and other imposts for goods
+transported from England to Scotland,
+and from Scotland to England, by
+sea or land, are, and shall be, so far
+taken off and discharged, as that all
+goods for the future shall pass as free,
+and with like privileges, and with the
+like charges and burdens, from England
+to Scotland, and from Scotland
+to England, as goods passing from
+port to port, or place to place in
+England; and that all goods shall
+and may pass between Scotland <i>and
+any other part</i> of this commonwealth
+or dominions thereof, with the like
+privileges, freedom, and charges, as
+such goods do or shall pass between
+England and the said parts or dominions.”</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Thus,” remarks Mr Burton, who has
+entered very fully and distinctly into the
+trading and commercial history of the
+times, “there was no privilege enjoyed
+by traders in England which was not
+communicated to Scotland; and what was
+not even attempted in France till the
+days of Turgot, and only arose in Germany
+with the Prussian league—an internal
+free trade—was accomplished for
+Britain in the middle of the seventeenth
+century. It was during the few years of
+prosperity following this event that many
+of our commercial cities arose. Scotland
+enjoyed peace and abundance, and was
+making rapid progress in wealth.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>After the Restoration, however, the
+Parliament of England repealed this
+wise arrangement, and by enacting
+that the Scottish people should be
+commercially considered as aliens, introduced
+a fresh element of discord
+between the nations.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“In 1667, commissioners were appointed
+from the two kingdoms to treat
+of union, when this object of a free trade
+was at once brought prominently forward
+on the part of Scotland, and at once repelled
+on that of England. It was stated
+that the colonies had been created at the
+expense of Englishmen, and should exist
+for their advantage only; that the East
+India and some other trades were monopolies
+in the hands of companies, not even
+open to the English at large, which it
+was out of the question to communicate
+to any strangers; and, finally, that the
+privileges of English shipping were far
+too precious to the merchants of England
+to be extended to Scotsmen.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This churlishness on the part of
+England was the more inexcusable,
+because the Scots nation was not left,
+as of old, free to form an unfettered
+and reciprocal alliance with any of the
+Continental states. From very early
+times, the relations between Scotland
+and France had been of the most intimate
+description—it being the policy
+of the latter country to support the
+former, and to retain its friendship,
+as the most effective check upon English
+aggression. The military service
+of France had long been open to the
+enterprising Scottish youth, and at
+the French universities the northern
+men of letters were received with
+open arms. But the union of the
+crowns, if it did not entirely close, at
+least greatly limited the extent of this
+intercourse. If England went to war
+with France, all communication with
+Scotland was necessarily closed. It
+might not be Scotland’s quarrel, but
+the enemies of the King of England
+were also to be considered as her
+foes. Hence she found that, on the
+one hand, her old relations were ruthlessly
+broken off, whilst, on the other,
+she was denied all participation in
+the commercial privileges which were
+rapidly augmenting the wealth of her
+southern neighbour. Hume tells us
+that “the commerce and riches of
+England did never, during any period,
+increase so fast as from the Restoration
+to the Revolution.” At the accession
+of the Stuarts to the English
+throne, the revenue of that country
+amounted to about £500,000: in
+1688, when James II. left the throne,
+it had risen to £2,000,000. Within
+twenty-eight years the shipping of
+England had more than doubled.
+And, while this extraordinary degree
+of prosperity prevailed in the south,
+Scotland was daily becoming poorer,
+not through the fault or indolence of
+her people, but in consequence of that
+anomalous connection, which, while
+it withheld any new advantages, deprived
+her of the opportunity of the
+old.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>One effort, which well deserves to
+be remembered in history, was made
+by the Scottish nation to rescue themselves
+from this degrading position.
+We allude to the Darien scheme,
+which, though unfortunate in its issue,
+was yet as bold and comprehensive a
+commercial enterprise as ever was
+undertaken. That it failed, was undoubtedly
+not the fault of the projectors.
+The most disgraceful means
+were used on the part of the English
+government, at the instigation of
+English merchants alarmed for the
+continuance of their monopoly, to
+render it abortive; and even were
+the character of William of Orange
+otherwise without reproach, his duplicity
+and treacherous dealing in this
+transaction would remain as a dark
+blot upon his memory. But in thus
+attempting, disreputably and unfairly,
+to crush the rising spirit of Scottish
+enterprise in a field hitherto unoccupied,
+the English advisers of the crown
+had gone too far. True, they had
+succeeded in annihilating nearly all
+the available capital of the northern
+kingdom, which had been embarked
+in this gigantic scheme; but they had
+also roused to a point almost of ungovernable
+fury the passion of an insulted
+people. There is this peculiarity
+about the Scots, that they are
+slow to proclaim a grievance, but resolute
+to redress it when proclaimed.
+The extreme quietude of demeanour
+and retinence of speech have sometimes
+been falsely interpreted as indicative
+of a want of spirit; whereas,
+on the contrary, no people can be
+more keenly alive than they are to a
+sense of injury. And such was the
+attitude of the Scottish parliament
+at the time, and such the defiant tone
+of the nation, that William, seriously
+alarmed for the safety of his throne,
+“took up the neglected question of
+the union, and earnestly recommended
+such a measure to the House of Lords,
+with a special reference to the history
+of Darien, and to the adjustment of
+trading privileges, as the only means
+of saving the two nations from endless
+and irreconcilable discord.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It was not, however, destined that
+the union of the kingdoms should
+be effected under the auspices of
+the prince whose name in Scotland
+is indissolubly connected with the
+tragedies of Glencoe and Darien.
+The accession of Queen Anne, a
+daughter of the house of Stuart,
+inspired the Scottish people with the
+hope that their grievances might
+be at last redressed, or, at all events,
+be considered with more fairness than
+they could expect from her predecessor,
+who was an utter stranger to
+their habits and their laws, and whose
+title to rule, being questionable in
+itself, might naturally lead him to
+show undue favour to the stronger
+nation which had accepted him, at
+the expense of the weaker and more
+remote. It was now perfectly evident
+to all who were capable of
+forming a judgment on the matter,
+that, unless some decided step were
+taken for admitting the Scots to a
+commercial reciprocity with the
+English, an entire separation of the
+two kingdoms must inevitably take
+place. With a large portion of the
+northern population, the latter alternative
+would have been cheerfully
+accepted. What they complained of
+was, that they were uselessly fettered
+by England—could not take a single
+step in any direction without interfering
+or being interfered with by
+her—were denied the privilege, which
+every free nation should possess, of
+making their own alliances; and had
+not even the right of sending an
+accredited ambassador to a foreign
+court. They had no objection, but
+the reverse, to be associated with
+England on fair terms; but hitherto
+there appeared no reason to hope
+that such terms would ever be granted;
+and they would not consent to
+be degraded from their rank as an
+independent nation. The English
+were, on the other hand, exceedingly
+adverse to any measure of conciliation.
+As in individuals, so in nations,
+there are always peculiarities which
+distinguish one from another; and
+an overweening idea of their own
+superiority is essentially the English
+characteristic. A great deal has been
+and is written in the South about
+Scottish nationality—it is, in reality,
+nothing compared to the feelings
+which are entertained by the Englishman.
+But of this we shall have
+occasion to speak presently; in the
+mean time, it is sufficient to note that
+no measure could have been more
+unpopular in the trading towns and
+shipping ports of England, than one
+which proposed to admit the subjects
+of the same crown to an equal participation
+of privileges. Accordingly,
+the first attempt of Queen Anne,
+made only three days after her accession,
+in her opening speech to the
+Parliament of England, towards a
+union between the two countries,
+proved entirely abortive. It is worth
+while quoting from Mr Burton the
+note—for it is little more—of this
+negotiation, for the purpose of showing
+how determined the English
+people were to maintain their old
+monopoly. Commissioners on either
+side were appointed.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“It became at once apparent that the
+admission of Scotland to equal trading
+privileges was still the great difficulty
+on the side of England. The first fundamental
+proposition—the succession to
+the throne, according to the Act of Settlement—was
+readily acceded to, as well
+as the second for giving the United
+Kingdom one legislature. As an equivalent
+fundamental article, the Scottish
+commissioners demanded ‘the mutual
+communication of trade, and other privileges
+and advantages.’ To this it was
+answered, that such a communication
+was indeed a necessary result of a complete
+union; but a specific answer was
+deferred, until the Board should discuss
+‘the terms and conditions’ of this communication.
+There was a deficiency of
+attendance of English members to form
+a quorum, which for some time interrupted
+the treaty. Whether this was
+from their being otherwise occupied, or
+from distaste of the business before them,
+it chafed the spirits of the Scots. When
+the two bodies were brought together
+again, the trade demands of the Scots
+were articulately set forth. They demanded
+free trade between the two
+nations; the same regulations and duties
+in both countries for importation and
+exportation; equal privileges to the shipping
+and seamen of the two nations; the
+two nations not to be burdened with
+each other’s debts, or, if they were to
+be so, an equivalent to be paid to Scotland,
+as the nation more unequally so
+burdened; and, lastly, it was proposed
+that these demands should be considered
+without reference to existing companies
+in either kingdom. This was well understood
+by both parties to have reference
+to the Darien affair.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“On the part of England it was conceded
+that ‘there be a free trade between
+the two kingdoms for the native
+commodities of the growth, product, and
+manufactures of the respective countries.’
+But even this concession, defined so as to
+exclude external trade, was not to extend
+to wool—an article on which English
+restrictions on exportation, for the
+support of home manufacture, had risen
+to a fanatical excess. A reference was
+made to the colonial trade—the main
+object of the Scottish demand of an exchange
+of commercial privileges. It was
+postponed, and in a tone indicating that
+it was too precious, as a privilege of
+Englishmen and a disqualification of
+Scotsmen, to be conceded.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>After further communing, without
+any satisfactory result, the meetings
+of the commissioners were adjourned;
+and there stands on the minutes of
+the Scottish Parliament the following
+brief but exceedingly emphatic resolution,
+that the Scottish commission
+for the treaty is terminate and extinct,
+and not to be revived without the
+consent of the Estates.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>These details are absolutely necessary
+for a proper understanding of the
+circumstances under which the great
+Act of Union of the two kingdoms was
+finally carried. Former historians have
+given too much prominence to mere
+party intrigues and ecclesiastical contests,
+which, though they undoubtedly
+lend a colour to the transactions of
+the times, are by no means to be regarded
+as the sole motives of action.
+The Presbyterian form of Church government
+was by this time finally
+settled; and there was no wish, on
+the part of any large section in the
+country, to have that settlement disturbed.
+The Jacobite or Cavalier
+party regarded the proposals for a
+union with suspicion, as necessarily
+involving a surrender of their cherished
+principle of legitimacy; and it
+is not unreasonable to suppose that
+many of them were rather glad than
+otherwise to perceive that the failure
+of the negotiation was entirely attributable
+to the tenacity and superciliousness
+of the English. Some of
+the nobility were conscientiously opposed
+to an entire incorporating union
+as degrading to the country, and injurious
+to the dignity of their own
+order; and they were supported in
+that view by a large number of the
+gentry, who were not sufficiently conversant
+with commercial affairs to
+understand the enormous importance
+of the development of the national
+trade. But in the midst of parties
+actuated by traditionary feeling and
+sectarian motives, there had arisen
+one, the members of which were fully
+alive to the critical state of the country,
+earnestly impressed with the necessity
+of elevating its position, and,
+withal, determined that its honour
+should not suffer in their hands.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At the head of this independent
+body of politicians was Fletcher of
+Saltoun, a man of high and vigorous
+intellect, but of a hasty and impetuous
+nature. Fletcher was heart and soul
+a Scotsman, and devoted to his country.
+Loyalty to the sovereign was
+with him a secondary consideration—indeed
+he seems always to have entertained
+the theory that the kingly
+office was simply the result of the
+election of the people. He had taken
+an active part in Monmouth’s rebellion,
+and fought against King James—William
+he looked upon as no better
+than a usurping tyrant—and he
+was now ready to transfer the crown,
+if transferred it must be, to the head
+of any claimant, if by so doing he
+could rescue his country from what
+he deemed to be intolerable degradation.
+Those who followed Fletcher,
+and acted along with him in Parliament,
+did not subscribe to all these
+peculiar opinions; but, like him, they
+regarded the welfare of the country
+as their primary object, and were
+determined, since England would not
+come to terms, to achieve once more
+an entire and thorough independence.
+They looked for support, as brave
+men will ever do in such emergencies,
+not to party politicians who might
+use and betray them, but to the great
+body of the people; and they did not
+appeal in vain.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The last Parliament ever held in
+Scotland, assembled on the 6th of
+May 1703. Nothing was said about
+further negotiation for a union, but
+something was done significant of the
+determination of the country to vindicate
+its rights. An act was passed
+restraining the right of the monarch
+to make war, on the part of Scotland,
+without the consent of the Scottish
+Parliament. Another, by removing
+the restrictions on the importation of
+French wines, was intended to show
+that the Scottish legislature did not
+consider themselves involved in the
+English continental policy. But the
+most important measure by far was
+that termed the “Act for the Security
+of the Kingdom.” The crown of England
+had been formally settled upon
+the Princess Sophia and her heirs,
+failing direct descendants of Queen
+Anne, and it appears to have been
+confidently expected that the Scottish
+Parliament would adopt the same
+order of succession. So little doubt
+seems to have been entertained on
+this point, that no conference on the
+subject had been held or even proposed,—a
+neglect which the Scots
+were entitled to consider either as an
+insult, or as an indirect intimation
+that they were at perfect liberty to
+make their own arrangements. The
+latter view was that which they chose
+to adopt. In their then temper, indeed,
+it was not to be expected that
+they would let slip the opportunity of
+testifying to England that, except on
+equal terms, they would enter into no
+permanent alliance, and that, in the
+event of these not being granted, they
+were desirous to dissolve the connection
+by effecting a separation of the
+crowns. The main provisions of the
+Act, as it was passed, were these:—</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“That on the death of the Queen without
+issue, the Estates were to name a successor
+from the Protestant descendants
+of the royal line of Scotland, <i>but the admitted
+successor to the crown of England
+was excluded from their choice</i>, unless
+‘there be such conditions of government
+settled and enacted as may secure the
+honour and sovereignty of this crown and
+kingdom,—the freedom, frequency, and
+power of Parliaments,—the religion, freedom,
+and trade of the nation, from English
+or any foreign influence.’ It was
+made high treason to administer the coronation
+oath without instructions from the
+Estates. By a further clause, to come in
+force immediately, the nation was placed
+in a state of defence, and the able-bodied
+population were ordained to muster under
+their respective heritors or burgh magistrates.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This act, though not formally ratified
+until another session, affords the true
+key to the history of the great Union
+effected in 1707, whereby the people of
+two kingdoms, long rivals and often at
+hostility, were happily blended into
+one. It is not our intention to enter
+into any minute details regarding the
+progress of that measure, or to depict
+the popular feeling with which it was
+received. It was hardly possible that
+an event of this magnitude could take
+place, without exciting in some quarters
+a feeling of regret for altered nationality,
+and creating in others a
+strong misgiving for the future. But,
+in reality, there was no national surrender.
+The treaty was conducted
+and carried through on terms of perfect
+equality. England and Scotland
+were united into one kingdom by the
+name of Great Britain, and their separate
+ensigns were appointed to be
+conjoined. Each division was to retain
+its own laws, institutions, and
+ecclesiastical polity, and one Parliament
+was to legislate for the whole.
+It was upon the latter point that the
+great difference of opinion prevailed.
+Some advocated—and the reasons
+they adduced were not without their
+weight—a federal union, which would
+at least have the effect of preserving to
+Scotland the administration of its own
+affairs. They maintained that, under
+an incorporating union, the interests
+of Scotland, in so far as their own domestic
+and peculiar institutions were
+concerned, must necessarily, in the
+course of time, be neglected, in as
+much as the Scottish representatives
+in the Imperial Parliament would constitute
+but a small minority—that by
+entire centralisation of government,
+the wealth of the lesser country would
+be gradually attracted to the greater—and
+that no guarantees could justify
+the imprudence of parting with an
+administrative and controlling power
+over such matters as were intended
+to remain peculiarly distinctive of
+the nation. The experience of well-nigh
+a century and a half has proved
+that such apprehensions were not
+altogether without a foundation, and
+that the predicted tendency to absorb
+and centralise was not the mere
+phantom of an inflamed patriotic
+imagination; nevertheless, we are
+clearly of opinion that the objections
+which were raised to a federal
+were of far greater weight than those
+which could be urged against an incorporating
+union. It is impossible,
+we think, to read the history of last
+century without perceiving that a federal
+union, however skilfully framed,
+could hardly have been maintained
+unbroken—it would at any rate have
+engendered jealousies and perpetuated
+prejudices which are now happily set
+at rest—and it probably would have
+been a material bar to that unrestricted
+intercourse which has been
+productive of so much advantage to
+both divisions of the island. But,
+while granting this, we by no means
+intend to deny that centralisation,
+when pushed beyond a certain necessary
+point, may not become a grievance
+which loudly calls for a remedy.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>To judge from their language, and
+the general tone of their opinions,
+many of our brethren in the south
+seem to regard the Union simply as
+an act by means of which Scotland
+was annexed to England. A few
+weeks ago, a presumptuous scribbler
+in a London weekly journal, while
+reviewing Mr Burton’s work, designated
+Scotland as the incorporated, in
+contradistinction to the incorporating
+body; and although we do not suppose
+that such exceeding ignorance of
+historical fact is common, we are
+nevertheless constrained to believe
+that a good deal of misapprehension
+prevails as to the real nature of the
+treaty. Even the language of statesmen
+in Parliament is often inaccurate,
+and has a tendency to promote false
+views upon the subject. To talk of
+the laws of England or of her Church,
+is strictly correct, for these are peculiar
+to, and distinctive of herself; but
+such expressions as the English flag,
+English army, English parliament,
+&#38;c., are altogether inappropriate, unless,
+indeed, the Treaty of Union is
+to be considered as an absolute dead
+letter. These things may be deemed
+trifles; but still there is a significance
+in words, which becomes the greater
+the oftener they are employed. We
+have, however, no desire to cavil about
+terms; nor would we have noticed
+such a matter, if it were not also evident
+that there has been, for some
+time past, and still is, a tendency to
+regard Scotland in the light of a subsidiary
+province, and to deal with her
+accordingly. Such, we say, is the
+case at present; but we do not therefore
+by any means conclude that there
+is a desire to defraud us of our privileges,
+or to degrade us from our proper
+position. We believe that we have
+grievances for which we require redress;
+but we are induced to attribute
+the existence of these grievances,
+most of which have been generated
+by neglect, rather to the limited number
+of our national representatives,
+and the inadequate provision which
+has been made for the administration
+of Scottish affairs, than to any intention
+on the part of British statesmen
+to withhold from us what we consider
+to be our due. Still, as claimants,
+and especially as claimants under so
+solemn a treaty, we are not only entitled,
+but bound to state our case,
+which we shall do, we hope, with
+proper temperance and discretion.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>We have often been told, especially
+of late years, that any expression of
+what is called Scottish nationality is
+absurd, and likely to be injurious to
+the general interest of the kingdom;
+and those journals who have taken
+upon themselves the task of ridiculing
+any movement on the part of Scotsmen
+to obtain what they consider to
+be their just privileges under a solemn
+international treaty, beseech us not
+“to engage in a disgraceful imitation
+of the worst features of Irish character.”
+We certainly have no intention
+of imitating the Irish; but we have
+as little idea of relinquishing that
+which is our own, or of submitting
+to domineering pretensions which
+have not a shadow of a foundation to
+rest on. In all matters common to
+the British empire, we acknowledge
+but one interest—in all matters peculiar
+to Scotland, we claim a right to
+be heard.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>To say that Scottish nationality is
+a dream without an object, is to deny
+history, and to fly in the face of fact.
+The Union neither did nor could denationalise
+us. It left us in undisturbed
+possession of our national laws
+and our national religion; and it
+further provided, as well as could be
+done at the period, and most anxiously,
+for the future maintenance of those
+institutions which the state is bound
+to foster and preserve. If it had been
+intended that in all time coming the
+Imperial Parliament of Britain was
+to have full liberty to deal as it pleased
+with the internal affairs of Scotland,
+certainly there would not have been
+inserted in the treaty those stringent
+clauses, which, while they maintain
+the institutions of the past, lay down
+rules for their regulation in the future.
+These were, to all intents and purposes,
+fundamental conditions of the
+treaty; and to that treaty, both in
+word and spirit, we look and appeal.
+We can assure our friends in the south
+that they will hear nothing of what a
+polished and judicious journalist has
+had the exquisite taste to term “a
+parcel of trash about Bannockburn,
+and sticks of sulphur of which a schoolboy,
+in his calmer moments, might
+feel ashamed.” We have no intention
+whatever, as the same ornament of
+letters has averred, of demanding a
+repeal of the Union—on the contrary,
+our demand resolves itself into this,
+that the spirit of the treaty should be
+observed, and the same consideration
+be shown by Parliament to matters
+which are purely Scottish, as to those
+which relate exclusively to England.
+And until it shall be received as righteous
+doctrine, that men are not only
+ridiculous, but culpable, in demanding
+what has been guaranteed to them,
+we shall give such assistance as lies
+in our power, to any movement in
+Scotland for the vindication of the
+national rights.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>That the provisions of the Treaty
+of Union were just and equitable, will
+not be disputed. They were adjusted
+with much care, with much difficulty,
+and were, in many points of view,
+exceedingly favourable to Scotland.
+But, unfortunately, almost from the
+very outset, a series of infringements
+began. Mr Burton, who certainly
+does not exaggerate Scottish grievances,
+remarks, “that many of the
+calamities following on the Union,
+had much encouragement, if they did
+not spring from that haughty English
+nature which would not condescend
+to sympathise in, or even know, the
+peculiarities of their new fellow-countrymen.”
+We go even further than
+this; for we are convinced that, had
+the provisions of the Union been
+scrupulously observed, and a judicious
+delicacy used in the framing of
+the new regulations necessary for
+the establishment of a uniform fiscal
+system—had the pride of the Scots not
+been wantonly wounded, and a strong
+colour given to the suspicions of the
+vulgar that the national cause had
+been betrayed—it is more than probable
+that no serious rising would
+have been attempted on behalf of the
+Stuarts. Obviously it was the policy
+of the English to have conciliated the
+Scots, and by cautious and kindly
+treatment to have reconciled them to
+their new position. But conciliation
+is not one of the arts for which Englishmen
+are famed; and it is not improbable
+that the nation was possessed
+with the idea that the Scots had,
+somehow or other, obtained a better
+bargain than they were altogether
+entitled to. Moreover, the English
+were then, as some of them are even
+now, profoundly ignorant of the history,
+temper, and feelings of the northern
+population. Mr Burton very justly
+remarks:—</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“The people of Scotland, indeed, knew
+England much better than the people of
+England knew Scotland—perhaps as any
+village knows a metropolis better than
+the people of the metropolis know the
+village. Those who pursued historical
+literature, it is true, were acquainted
+with the emphatic history of the people
+inhabiting the northern part of the island,
+and were taught by it to respect and fear
+them; but the ordinary Englishman knew
+no more about them than he did about
+the natives of the Faroe or Scilly isles.
+The efforts of the pamphleteers to make
+Scotland known to the English at the
+period of the Union, are like the missionary
+efforts at the present day to instruct
+people about the policy of the
+Caffres or the Japanese.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>No sooner was the Union effected,
+than disputes began about duties.
+Illegal seizures of Scottish vessels
+were made by the authorities. Englishmen,
+wholly ignorant of the laws
+and habits of those among whom they
+were to reside, were appointed to
+superintend the revenue; and, as
+sometimes occurs even at the present
+day, the dogmatic adherence of such
+men to the technicalities of the “system”
+under which they were bred,
+and their intolerance of any other
+method, made them peculiarly odious,
+and cast additional unpopularity upon
+the English name. If we again quote
+Mr Burton on this subject, it is less
+with the view of exposing what formerly
+took place, than in the hope
+that the spirit of his remarks, not
+altogether inapplicable even now,
+may penetrate the obtuse mist which
+shrouds our public departments; and
+lead to some relaxation of that bigoted
+bureaucracy which prevails in
+the Government offices. It has been,
+we are aware, laid down as an axiom
+that the local business of any district
+is best conducted by a stranger. Our
+view is directly the reverse. We
+maintain that an intimate knowledge
+of the people with whom he is to
+transact, is a high qualification for an
+official; and it is much to be regretted
+that the opposite system has been
+pursued in London, under the baneful
+influence of centralisation.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“Cause of enmity still more formidable
+passed across to Scotland itself, where
+the Englishman showed his least amiable
+characteristics. To manage the revenue,
+new commissioners of excise and customs
+were appointed, consisting in a great
+measure of Englishmen. They were followed
+by subordinate officers trained in
+the English method of realising the
+duties, whose distribution throughout
+the country afforded opportunities for
+saying that a swarm of harpies had been
+let loose on the devoted land, to suck its
+blood and fatten on the spoils of the
+oppressed people. The Englishman’s
+national character is not the best adapted
+for such delicate operations. He lays
+his hand to his functions with a steady
+sternness, and resolute unconsciousness
+of the external conditions by which he is
+surrounded. The subordinate officer
+generally feels bound, with unhesitating
+singleness of purpose, to the peculiar
+methods followed at home in his own ‘department,’
+as being the only true and sound
+methods. He has no toleration for any
+other, and goes to his duty among
+strangers as one surrounded by knaves
+and fools, whose habits and ideas must
+be treated with disdain. Thus has it
+often happened, that the collective
+honesty and national fidelity to engagements
+of the English people, have been
+neutralised by the tyrannical pride and
+surly unadaptability of the individual
+men who have come in contact with
+other nations.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>These arrangements were evidently
+unwise, as being calculated to produce
+throughout the country a spirit of discontent
+among the middle and lower
+classes, whom the Government ought
+to have conciliated by every means in
+their power. There is much independence
+of thought, as well as shrewdness,
+among the Scottish peasantry
+and burghers; and their hearty co-operation
+and good-will would have
+been an effectual barrier against any
+attempts to overthrow the Hanoverian
+succession. To that, indeed, as a
+security for the maintenance of the
+Presbyterian form of church government,
+they were well inclined; and,
+therefore, it was of the more moment
+that they should be reconciled as
+speedily as possible to the Union.
+But instead of the fair side of the picture,
+the dark one was imprudently
+presented to them. The taxation was
+greatly increased, the measures altered
+according to a foreign standard,
+and a degree of rigour exercised in the
+collection of the revenue, to which they
+had been previously unaccustomed.
+Against these immediate burdens and
+innovations, it was of no use to expatiate
+upon future prospects of national
+prosperity as an off-set. The Commons,
+never keenly in favour of the
+Union, began presently to detest it;
+and, if they did not absolutely wish
+success to the Jacobite cause, it was
+pretty generally understood that they
+would take no active measures to oppose
+a rising which at least might
+have the effect of freeing them from a
+burdensome connection.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Nothing, indeed, could be more injudicious
+than the early legislation of
+the United Parliament in regard to
+Scottish affairs. In order to strengthen
+the hands of the English officers
+of customs and excise located in the
+north, who could not understand the
+technicalities, and would not observe
+the forms of a law to which they were
+habitually strangers, it was determined
+that the Scottish Justices of the
+Peace should be made fac-similes of
+the English. We may conceive the
+horror of a grim Presbyterian west-country
+laird at finding himself associated
+in the commission with “the
+most reverent father in Christ, and
+our faithful counsellor, Thomas Archbishop
+of Canterbury, primate of all
+England, and metropolitan thereof!”
+Then came the abolition of the Scottish
+Privy Council, and a new act for
+the trial of treason, superseding the authority
+of the Court of Justiciary, and
+introducing the commission, unintelligible
+to Scottish ears, of Oyer and
+Terminer. This was passed in the face
+of the united opposition of the whole
+body of the Scottish members. Then
+came the Patronage Act, which effected
+a schism in the church, and others
+more or less injurious or injudicious;
+so that it is impossible to avoid the
+conclusion of Mr Burton, “that English
+statesmen, had they desired to
+alienate Scotland, and create a premature
+revulsion against the Union,
+could not have pursued a course better
+directed to such an end.” In fact,
+the existence of the Union was at one
+time in the greatest peril. The Scottish
+members of the House of Commons,
+though almost to a man returned
+on the Revolution interest, held a
+meeting for the purpose of considering
+the propriety of taking steps to have
+the Union dissolved; and it does not
+appear that there was a single dissentient
+voice. Lockhart, the member
+for Mid-Lothian, who summoned the
+meeting, has given us a sketch of his
+statement, the most important points
+of which were as follows: “That the
+Scots trade was sunk and destroyed
+by the many prohibitions, regulations,
+and impositions on it, and the heavy
+taxes imposed on the native produce
+and manufacture (all which were calculated
+and adapted to the conveniency
+and circumstances of England,
+with which those of Scotland did noways
+correspond); and that the country
+was exhausted of money, by the
+remittance of so great a part of the
+public taxes, and the great recourse
+of so many Scotsmen to London: if
+matters stood long on such a footing,
+the ruin and misery of Scotland was
+unavoidable; that from the haughty
+and insolent treatment we had lately
+received, it was sufficiently evident
+we could expect no just redress from
+the English.” The result of the conference
+was a communication with the
+Scottish Representative Peers, who
+were also by this time thoroughly disgusted
+with the Union; and the Earl
+of Findlater, selected as the mouthpiece
+of the party, moved the dissolution
+of the Union in the House of
+Lords, and succeeded in effecting an
+equal division of the members present.
+The motion was lost by the small
+majority of three upon the proxies.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is remarkable that in this debate
+the Duke of Argyle and his brother,
+Lord Ilay, both warm friends of the
+Hanoverian succession, spoke strongly
+in favour of the motion; thus showing
+how keenly and universally the
+attempt to provincialise Scotland was
+felt by all classes. It became evident
+that, under such a system of administration,
+Scotland could not long remain
+tranquil; and, accordingly, the
+death of Queen Anne was followed
+by the raising of the insurrectionary
+standard.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mar’s rebellion was at length quelled,
+mainly through the efforts and
+personal popularity of the Duke of
+Argyle. In all human probability it
+never would have taken place, but for
+the encouragement held out to the
+Jacobites by the universal discontent
+of Scotland. But in spite of every
+warning, the ministers of the day persevered
+in a line of conduct most offensive
+to the northern population.
+They suppressed the important office
+of the Scottish Secretary of State, as
+if the affairs of that kingdom were of
+so little importance, that an English
+Secretary, who knew nothing of the
+people or their laws, was perfectly
+competent to superintend their business
+in addition to that of the other
+country. Such an arrangement as
+this, however, was too preposterous
+to remain unaltered. The English
+Secretary might just as well have attempted
+to administer the affairs of
+Muscovy as those of Scotland; and,
+in process of time, the functions of
+Secretary were quietly handed over
+to the Lord Advocate—a combination
+of which the country has had much
+reason to complain, and which it certainly
+ought not to tolerate longer.
+The history of the country between
+1715 and 1745, is, with the exception
+of a short period during which the
+Duke of Argyle exercised a sort of
+provisional vice-royalty, little else
+than a catalogue of repeated innovations
+and dissensions. At that time
+Scotland was regarded by English
+statesmen as a dangerous and smouldering
+volcano; and fully half a century,
+dating from the time of the
+Union, went by, before anything like
+a feeling of cordiality was established
+between the two nations.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>When we regard Scotland as it is
+now—tranquil, prosperous, and enterprising—we
+are naturally led to wonder
+at the exceeding greatness of the
+change. The change, however, is not
+in the character of the people: they
+are still as jealous of what they esteem
+to be their just rights and guaranteed
+privileges as ever; but they have felt,
+and fully appreciate, the advantages
+which they have derived from the
+union; a closer intercourse has taught
+them to respect and admire the many
+estimable qualities of the English character;
+and they perceive that a very
+great deal of the aggression of which
+their fathers complained, and which
+led not only to heartburnings but to
+civil strife, arose rather from ignorance
+than from deliberate intention of offence.
+And if, even now, there are
+some matters with regard to which
+they consider that they have not received
+justice, these have not been, and
+will not be, made the subjects of a
+reckless agitation. No one believes
+that there is any design on the part of
+England to deal unkindly or unfairly
+with her sister. We may, indeed,
+complain that purely Scottish matters
+are treated with comparative indifference
+in the British House of Commons;
+but, then, it is impossible to
+forget that the great majority of the
+members know very little indeed of
+the Scottish laws and institutions.
+There is some truth in one observation
+of the <cite>Times</cite>—though the writer
+intended it for a sneer—“that the
+Scottish representatives in London are
+not only regarded with the deepest
+respect, but to them the highest of all
+compliments is paid—namely, that
+when a Scotch subject is brought before
+the House, almost invariably the
+matter is left to their own decision,
+without interference of any kind.”
+If the <cite>Times</cite> could have added that
+Scottish business obtained that prominence
+to which it is entitled—that our
+bills were not invariably shuffled off
+and postponed, as if they related to
+matters of no moment whatever—the
+statement might be accepted as satisfactory.
+Even as it is, we are not
+inclined to stand greatly upon our
+dignity. Neglect is, upon the whole,
+preferable to over-legislation; and we
+are not covetous of the repetition of
+such experiments as were made by the
+late Sir Robert Peel upon our banking
+system. But, so far as we know, beyond
+an occasional grumble at slight
+and delay, there has been no serious
+remonstrance on this head. What we
+do remonstrate against is, that while
+exposed to an equal taxation with
+England, Scotland does not receive
+the same, or anything like the same,
+encouragement for her national institutions,
+and that her local interests
+are not properly cared for on the part
+of the British government.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>We are very anxious that this matter
+should be stated fairly and calmly,
+so that our brethren in the south may
+judge for themselves whether or not
+there is substantive reason in the appeal
+for “Justice to Scotland” which,
+having been faintly audible for many
+years, is now sounded throughout the
+land. We have anything but a wish
+to make mountains out of molehills,
+or to magnify and parade trifles as
+positive grievances. Therefore we
+shall not allude to such matters as
+heraldic arrangements, though why
+the stipulations made by treaty with
+regard to these should be violated or
+overlooked, we cannot comprehend.
+If emblems are to be retained at all,
+they ought to be in strict accordance
+with the position of the things which
+they represent. Our real complaints,
+however, are not of a nature which
+will admit of so easy a remedy as the
+application of a painter’s brush, or a
+readjustment of quarterings; nor can
+they be laughed down by silly sneers
+at the attitude of the Scottish Lion.
+They are substantial and specific;
+and both the honour and the interest
+of Scotland are concerned in obtaining
+their redress.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>And first we maintain, and refer to
+the Treaty of Union, and our present
+arrangements as proof, that the equality
+established between England and
+Scotland has been observed only as
+regards equality of taxation, but has
+been disregarded in the matter of
+allowances. We ask Englishmen,
+against whom the charge of pecuniary
+injustice has almost never been made,
+and who frequently have erred, in regard
+to foreign connection and subsidy,
+on the other side, to take into serious
+consideration the facts which we are
+about to adduce.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The object of the Treaty of Union
+was to establish uniformity of trade
+and privilege, internal and external,
+throughout the United Kingdom; to
+equalise taxation and burdens; and
+to extinguish all trace of separate
+interest in matters purely imperial.
+But it was not intended by the Union
+to alter or innovate the laws and institutions
+of either country—on the
+contrary, these were strictly excepted
+and provided for. The previous acts,
+both of the English and the Scottish
+Parliaments, remained in force, applicable
+to the two countries: but, for
+the future, all legislation was to be
+intrusted to one body, “to be styled
+the Parliament of Great Britain.”
+Referring again to the Treaty of
+Union, we find anxious and careful
+provision made for the maintenance
+in Scotland of three national institutions,
+the Church, the Courts, and
+the Universities; all of which the
+united legislature was bound to recognise
+and protect. In short, the
+whole spirit and tenor of the Treaty
+is, that, without altering national institutions,
+equality should be observed
+as much as possible in the future
+administration of the countries.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It cannot be pretended that the
+Union implied no real sacrifice on
+the part of the Scottish people. London,
+to the exclusion of Edinburgh,
+became the seat of government.
+Thither the nobility and wealthier
+gentry were drawn, and there a
+considerable portion of the revenue
+of the country was expended. That
+was the inevitable consequence of
+the arrangement which was made,
+and the Scots were too shrewd not to
+perceive it. But, on the other hand,
+the advantages which the union offered,
+seemed, in prospect at least, to
+counterbalance the sacrifice; and it
+was understood that, though the Scottish
+parliament was abolished, and
+the great offices of state suppressed,
+the remanent local institutions were
+to receive from the British government
+that consideration and support
+which was necessary to maintain them
+in a healthy state of existence.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is almost to be regretted that the
+Treaty of Union was not more distinct
+and specific on those points; and that
+no stipulation was made for the expenditure
+of a fair proportion of the
+revenue raised from Scotland within
+her bounds. That such a guarantee
+would have been advantageous is now
+evident; for, instead of diminishing,
+the tendency towards centralisation
+has become greater than ever. No
+government has tried to check it—indeed,
+we question whether public men
+are fully aware of its evil.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>As a country advances in wealth,
+the seat of government will always
+prove the centre point of attraction.
+The fascinations of the court, the concourse
+of the nobility, the necessary
+throng of the leading commoners of
+Britain during the parliamentary season,
+are all in favour of the metropolis.
+To this, as a matter of course, we must
+submit, and do so cheerfully; but not
+by any means because we are in the
+situation of an English province. It
+never was intended to make us such,
+nor could the whole power of England,
+however exerted, have degraded us to
+that position. London is not our
+capital city, nor have we any interest
+in its aggrandisement. We do not
+acknowledge the authority, in matters
+of law, of the Chief-Justice of
+England—we are altogether beyond
+the reach of the southern Ecclesiastical
+Courts. These are not accidental
+exceptions; they are necessary parts
+of the system by which it was provided
+that, in all things concerning
+our local administration, we were to
+have local courts, local powers, and a
+local executive. We complain that,
+in this respect, the spirit of the treaty
+has not been observed. Our Boards
+of Custom and Commissioners of Excise
+have been abolished; the revenues
+of the Scottish Woods and Forests are
+administered in London, and applied
+almost entirely to English purposes;
+and a like centralisation has been extended
+to the departments of the
+Stamps and Post-office.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>But lest it should be said that these
+are grievances more shadowy than
+real, let us take the case of the Woods
+and Forests mentioned above. The
+hereditary revenues of the Crown
+in Scotland amount to a very large
+sum, all of which is sent to London,
+but hardly a penny of it ever
+returns. Holyrood, Dunfermline,
+Linlithgow—all our old historical
+buildings and objects of interest, are
+allowed to crumble into decay; because
+the administration of a fund
+which ought to be devoted to such
+purposes is confided to Englishmen,
+who care nothing whatever about the
+matter. By one vote in the present
+year, £181,960 were devoted to the
+repair and embellishment of royal
+palaces, parks, and pleasure-grounds
+in England; but it seems by the statement
+of the Chancellor of the Exchequer
+that there are no funds available
+for the repair of Holyrood. Of
+course there can be no funds, if all our
+money is to be squandered in the
+south, and an annual expenditure of
+nearly £10,000 lavished upon Hampton
+Court, where royalty never resides.
+Of course there can be no
+funds, if £40,000 is given for a
+palm-house at Kew, and upwards of
+£62,000 for royal parks in England.
+But there <i>are</i> funds, if we may believe
+the public accounts, arising
+from the revenue of the Crown in
+Scotland, though most unjustly diverted
+to other than Scottish purposes.
+It may be, however, that,
+very soon, no such funds will remain.
+A large portion of the Crown
+property situated in Scotland has
+been advertised for public sale; and
+we may be sure of this, that not
+even a fractional portion of the proceeds
+will be applied to the North of
+the Tweed. Now, if the management
+of this branch of the Revenue had been
+intrusted to a board in Edinburgh (as
+it formerly was, before the Barons of
+Exchequer were abolished), we venture
+to say that, without asking or
+receiving one shilling of English
+money, we could have effectually rescued
+ourselves from the reproach to
+which we are daily subjected by
+strangers, who are not aware of the
+extent to which centralisation has
+been carried. They look with wonder
+and sorrow at Holyrood, with her
+ruined chapel, and the bones of our
+Scottish kings and queens exposed to
+the common gaze, and ask whether
+they really are among a people famous
+for the enthusiasm with which they
+cleave to the memories of the past,
+and to the recollections of their former
+glories. Peering through the
+bars of that charnel vault where the
+giant skeleton of Darnley is thrown
+beside the mouldering remains of
+those who once wore the crown and
+wielded the sceptre of Scotland, they
+can recall no parallel instance of desecration
+save the abominable violation
+of the sepulchres of St Denis by
+the base republican rabble. And who
+are to blame for this? Not certainly
+the Scottish people, but those who
+have diverted the revenues applicable
+to purely national objects, to the maintenance
+of English palaces and the
+purchase of London parks.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Centralisation has deprived us of
+several important offices which could
+have been filled quite as economically
+and efficiently for the public service
+in Scotland as in the south. We are
+by no means in favour of the extension
+of useless offices, but there is a
+vast difference between such and
+places of responsibility, where local
+knowledge becomes a very high qualification.
+It is impossible that a
+board, sitting in London, can give the
+same satisfaction to the people of
+Scotland, or conduct business so effectually,
+as if it was located among
+them. But, besides this, it seems to
+be a settled matter that Scottish official
+appointments are to be remunerated
+on a different scale from that
+which is applied in England and in
+Ireland. Why is it that our officials—in
+the Edinburgh Post-office,
+for example—are paid at a far lower
+rate than those who perform the
+same duties in London and in Dublin?
+Is it because Ireland contributes
+more than we do to the revenue?
+Let us see. The revenue of
+Scotland for the year ending 1852
+was £6,164,804, of which there was
+expended in the country £400,000,
+leaving £5,764,804, which was remitted
+to London. The revenue of
+Ireland for the same period was
+£4,000,681, of which there was expended
+in Ireland £3,847,134; leaving
+a balance merely of £153,547.
+Have the people of Scotland no
+reason to complain whilst this monstrous
+inequality is tolerated?</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Let us now turn to the Universities,
+which in the eyes of a Government so
+zealous as the present affects to be in
+the cause of education, and to Lord
+John Russell in particular, ought to
+be objects of considerable interest.
+Let us see how they have been treated.
+In the year 1826 a Commissioner
+was appointed by George IV. to examine
+into the state of the Scottish
+Universities, and to report thereon.
+The Commissioners, of whom the
+Earl of Aberdeen was one, made a
+report in 1831, to the effect that, in
+general, the chairs were scandalously
+ill-endowed, and that adequate and
+complete provision should be made in
+all the Universities, so that the appointment
+to the Chairs “should at all
+times be an object of ambition to men
+of literature and science.” Four or five
+bulky blue books of evidence, &#38;c., were
+issued; but the only party connected
+with literature who derived any benefit
+from the commission, was the English
+printer. Not a step has been
+taken in consequence by any administration,
+<i>although two-and-twenty years
+have elapsed since the report was given
+in</i>! Sir Robert Peel had no objection
+to found and endow Popish colleges in
+Ireland, but he would not listen to
+the representations made on behalf of
+the Protestant colleges of Scotland.
+In consequence, the emolument drawn
+from many Chairs in Scotland is
+under £250 per annum, even in cases
+where the Crown is patron! Such is
+the liberality of the British Government
+in regard to Scottish education
+in its highest branches, even with the
+most positive reports recorded in its
+favour! As for museums, antiquarian
+and scientific societies and the like,
+they are left entirely dependent upon
+private support. We do not say that
+a Government is bound to expend the
+public money upon such objects as the
+latter; but it is at all events bound
+to be impartial; and really, when we
+look at the large sums devoted every
+year as a matter of course to London
+and Dublin, while Edinburgh is passed
+over without notice, we have a right
+to know for what offence on our part
+we experience such insulting neglect.
+This is, moreover, a matter which
+ought not to be lightly dismissed, inasmuch
+as, if Edinburgh is still to be
+regarded as a capital city, she is entitled
+to fair consideration and support
+in all things relating to the
+diffusion of arts and science. We do
+not desire to see the multiplication of
+British museums; but we wish to
+participate directly in that very lavish
+expenditure presently confined to
+London, for what are called the purposes
+of art. If we are made to pay
+for pictures, let us at least have some
+among us, so that our artists may derive
+the benefit. We have all the
+materials and collections for a geological
+museum in Edinburgh, but the
+funds for the building are denied.
+Nevertheless, a grant of £18,000 per
+annum is made from the public money
+to the geological museums of London
+and Dublin.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Passing from these things, and referring
+to public institutions of a
+strictly charitable nature, we find no
+trace whatever of state almonry in
+Scotland. Dublin last year received
+for its different hospitals £23,654 of
+state money. Edinburgh has never
+received the smallest contribution.
+Can any one explain to us why the
+people of Scotland are called upon to
+maintain their own police, while that
+of London receives annually £131,000,
+that of Dublin £36,000, and that of
+the Irish counties £487,000—or why
+one half of the constabulary expense
+in the counties of England is defrayed
+from the consolidated fund,
+while no such allowance is made to
+Scotland? We should like very
+much to hear Mr Gladstone or Lord
+Palmerston upon that subject.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is anything but an agreeable task
+for us to repeat the items of grievance,
+of which these are only a part. There
+are others highly discreditable to the
+Government, such as the continued
+delay, in spite of constant application,
+to devote any portion of the public
+money to the formation of harbours
+of refuge on the east and northern
+coasts of Scotland, where shipwrecks
+frequently occur. But enough, and
+more than enough, has been said to
+prove that, while subjected to the
+same taxation, Scotland does not receive
+the same measure of allowances
+and encouragements as England, and
+that the system of centralisation has
+been carried to a pernicious and unjustifiable
+length. If these are not
+grievances, we are really at a loss to
+know what may be the true meaning
+of that term. To many of the English
+public they must be new, as we have
+no doubt they are startling; for the
+general impression is, that Scotsmen,
+on the whole, know pretty well how
+to manage their own affairs, and are
+tolerably alive to their own interest.
+That is undeniable; but the peculiarity
+of the case is, <i>that we are not permitted
+to manage our own affairs</i>. England
+has relieved us of the trouble; which
+latter, however, we would not grudge
+to bestow, if allowed to do so. But
+our grounds of complaint are not new
+to statesmen and officials of every
+party. Representation after representation
+has been made, but made
+in vain. The press of Scotland has,
+year after year, charged the Government
+with neglect of Scottish interests,
+and warned it against persevering in
+such a course; but without effect.
+The unwillingness of the people to
+agitate has been construed into indifference;
+and now, when the national
+voice is raised in its own defence, we
+are taunted with previous silence!</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Now, we beg to repeat again, what
+we have already expressed, that
+we do not believe it is the wish of
+Englishmen, or of English statesmen,
+that we should be so unfairly treated.
+Indeed, we have reason to know that
+some of the latter have expressed
+their conviction that Scottish affairs
+are not well administered, and that
+great reason of complaint exists. That
+is consoling, perhaps, but not satisfactory.
+We are told that we ought
+to be very proud, because, at the
+present moment, a Scotsman is at the
+head of the Government. As yet we
+have seen no reason to plume ourselves
+upon that accident, which in
+no way adds materially to the national
+glory. We shall reserve our
+jubilation thereon, until we have a
+distinct assurance that Lord Aberdeen
+is prepared to grant us substantial
+justice. Of that, as yet, no indication
+has been afforded; and, to confess
+the truth, were it only for the
+grace of the movement, we would far
+rather see the reforms and readjustments
+we require conceded to us, as
+matter of right, by an English than
+by a Scottish Premier. What we
+seek is neither favour nor jobbing, but
+that attention to our interests which
+is our due. If Lord Aberdeen thinks
+fit to render it now, we shall, of
+course, be very glad to receive it;
+but we do not entertain extravagant
+expectations from that quarter. If
+his heart had really been warmly with
+the country of his birth, it is almost
+impossible to suppose that, having
+set his name, as he did, to a strong
+report in favour of assistance to the
+Scottish universities, he would have
+allowed about a quarter of a century
+to elapse without mooting the subject,
+either as a peer of Parliament, or as
+an influential member of more than one
+Cabinet; and it is impossible to forget
+that, with the most deplorable schism
+in the history of the national Church
+of Scotland—the more deplorable, because
+it might have been prevented by
+wise and timely legislation—his name
+is inseparably connected. Therefore,
+in so far as our interests are concerned,
+we see no especial reason for glorification
+in the fact that Lord Aberdeen is
+a peer of Scotland. That Lord Campbell,
+who, as the <cite>Times</cite> avers, “holds
+the highest common law appointment
+in the three kingdoms,” was born in
+Cupar, in the ancient kingdom of Fife,
+by no means reconciles us to the fact
+of an unfair application of the revenue.
+Lord Brougham, we believe, first saw
+the light in Edinburgh—is his subsequent
+occupation of the woolsack to be
+considered a sufficient reason why the
+citizens of the Scottish metropolis
+should be compelled to maintain their
+own police, when those of London
+and Dublin are paid out of the imperial
+revenue? Really it would appear
+that notorieties are sometimes
+expensive productions. With profound
+respect for the eminent individuals
+referred to, we would rather,
+on the whole, surrender the credit of
+their birth, than accept that as an
+equivalent for the vested rights of the
+nation.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Supposing, then, that the reality of
+the grievance is made out—as to
+which we presume there can be no
+question, for the matters we have
+referred to are of public notoriety—it
+is necessary to consider what remedy
+ought to be applied. Undoubtedly
+much is in the power of Ministers.
+They may select more than
+one point of grievance for curative
+treatment; and Mr Gladstone may
+possibly endeavour, in his next financial
+arrangements, to atone for past
+neglect; but it is not by such means
+as these that the evil can be wholly
+eradicated. We must look to the
+system in order to ascertain why
+Scotland should have been exposed
+so long to so much injustice; and,
+believing as we do, that there was no
+deliberate intention to slight her interests,
+we are driven to the conclusion
+that the fault has arisen from
+the utterly inadequate provision made
+by the State for the administration of
+her internal affairs.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The absurd idea that the true position
+of Scotland is merely that of a
+province, has received countenance
+from the fact that there is no Minister
+in the British Cabinet directly
+responsible for the administration of
+Scottish affairs. There is, indeed, a
+Home Secretary for the United Kingdom;
+but it is impossible to expect
+the holder of that office to have
+an intimate acquaintance with the
+laws, institutions, and internal relations
+of the northern division of the
+island. The Secretary of State, in
+general, knows nothing about us, and
+is compelled to rely, in almost every
+case, upon the information which he
+receives from the Lord Advocate.
+Now, the position of a Lord Advocate
+is this: He must be a Scottish barrister,
+and he usually is one who has
+risen to eminence in his profession.
+But he has had no experience of public
+affairs, and usually little intercourse
+with public men, before he receives
+her Majesty’s commission as first law
+officer of the Crown. He has not been
+trained to Parliament, for a Scottish
+barrister is necessarily tied to his own
+courts, and cannot, as his English
+brethren may, prosecute his profession
+while holding a seat in Parliament.
+Thus, even supposing him to be a man
+of real eminence and ability—and we
+are glad to express our opinion that,
+of late years, the office has been
+worthily filled—he enters the House
+of Commons without parliamentary
+experience, and has very little leisure
+allowed him to acquire it. For, in the
+first place, he is, as public prosecutor,
+responsible for the conduct of the
+whole criminal business of Scotland;
+and he is the Crown adviser in civil
+cases. Then he has his own practice
+to attend to, which generally increases
+rather than diminishes after his official
+elevation; and in attending to
+that in Edinburgh, he is absent from
+London during half the parliamentary
+session—in fact, is seldom there, except
+when some important bill under
+his especial charge is in progress.
+Besides this, the office of Lord Advocate
+is understood to be the stepping-stone
+to the bench. One gentleman,
+now a judge of the Court of Session,
+did not hold the office of Lord Advocate
+for three months, and never had
+a seat in Parliament. In the course
+of last year (1852), no less than three
+individuals were appointed Lords Advocate
+in succession, and two of them
+did not sit in the House. Owing to
+these circumstances, it rarely happens
+that a Lord Advocate can acquire a
+reputation for statesmanship—he has
+neither the time, the training, the
+facilities, nor the ordinary motives of
+doing so. At any moment, even on
+the eve of completing some important
+national measure, he may be summoned
+to the bench, and, in such an
+event, the interests of the country
+are tied up until his successor in
+office has been able to procure a
+seat, and has become, in some measure,
+reconciled to the novel atmosphere
+of St Stephen’s.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This is, beyond all question, a bad
+system. The peculiar legal functions
+of the Lord Advocate are, in addition
+to his private practice, a burden quite
+heavy enough for any single pair of
+shoulders to sustain; nor is it consonant
+either with the dignity or the
+convenience of the country, that he
+should be made to act as a sort of assessor
+or adviser to the Home Secretary.
+He ought certainly to be in
+Parliament, as the Attorney-General
+of England is, to give advice in legal
+matters, but no further. The training
+of the bar is not by any means that
+which tends to the development of
+administrative qualities; and, even
+were it otherwise, we have shown that
+the precarious nature of the office must
+preclude the holder of it from the advantage
+of official experience. But,
+in fact, as those who have had public
+business to transact in London know
+full well, there is no order or arrangement
+whatever provided for the
+administration of Scottish affairs.
+Let us take the case of a deputation
+sent to London about some local
+matter. They naturally, in the first
+instance, direct their steps to the
+Lord Advocate, who, if in town—by
+no means a certain occurrence—receives
+them with great courtesy,
+listens to their story, and then, regretting
+that the subject in question
+does not fall within the sphere of his
+department, refers them to the Junior
+Lord of the Treasury. They recount
+their tale to that official, who really
+seems to exhibit some interest, but
+discovers, after a time, that they
+should have made application to the
+Board of Woods and Forests. Thither
+they go, and are probably referred to
+some clerk or under-secretary, brimful
+of conceit, and exclusively English
+in his notions. He refers them to the
+Secretary of the Treasury; but that
+man of figures is too busy to listen to
+them, and knows nothing about the
+matter. He suggests an application
+to the Home Secretary. Lord Palmerston,
+the pink of politeness, smiles,
+bows, and remits them to the knowledge
+of the Lord Advocate. By this
+time half the deputation have left,
+and the others are savage and excited.
+They are advised to memorialise
+the Treasury, which they do,
+and receive an immediate reply that
+“my Lords” will take the matter
+into their consideration. And so in
+all probability they do; but it turns
+out at the last moment that the
+Chancellor of the Exchequer has a
+ruling voice in the matter; and,
+as his financial arrangements for the
+year are already made, the application
+must stand over to be considered at a
+future period.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is now full time that a new
+order of things should be introduced,
+and that the affairs of Scotland should
+be administered by a responsible Secretary
+of State with a seat in the
+Cabinet. We have, on every ground,
+full right to demand this. The public
+revenue levied from Scotland is
+larger than that of either Holland,
+Belgium, Naples, Sardinia, or Sweden
+and Norway. It is larger than the
+combined revenues of Bavaria, Denmark,
+Greece, and Switzerland. The
+revenue of Ireland is one-third less
+than ours, and yet Ireland has not
+only a Secretary of State, but a Lord-Lieutenant.
+No one surely can venture
+to say that the interests here involved
+are too trifling to require superintendence,
+or that any organisation would
+be superfluous. For our own part,
+having watched narrowly for years the
+working of the present absurd and unregulated
+system, we do not hesitate
+to declare our conviction that justice
+never can, and never will, be done to
+Scotland until its affairs are placed
+under the management of a separate
+Secretary of State. This point cannot
+be pressed too strongly. The
+wealth, importance, and position of
+the country justify the demand; and
+we have yet to learn that there is any
+one sound or substantial reason for
+denying it.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Another point, and it is one of vast
+importance, is to insist that, at the
+next adjustment of the representation,
+Scotland shall send its just proportion
+of members to the House of Commons.
+At present, whether the test
+of revenue or of population be applied,
+we are inadequately represented
+as contrasted with England. We pay
+more than a ninth of the whole revenue
+of the United Kingdom, but we
+have only a thirteenth part of the representation.
+It is quite necessary
+that this should be remedied, so that
+our interests may be properly and
+efficiently attended to in the legislature.
+We care not what criterion is
+taken—whether that of revenue or
+that of population—but we have a
+right to demand and expect, that in
+this matter also we shall be dealt
+with according to the same measure
+which is applied to England. According
+to the last census, each of our
+Scottish members represents an average
+population of 54,166; whilst one
+member is returned for every 35,845
+of the population of England. The
+apportionment ought to be made according
+to some clear, intelligible principle—not
+by a mere flourish of the
+pen, or an arbitrarily assumed figure.
+With a responsible Minister, and an
+adequate representation, attention to
+the interests of Scotland would be
+secured; and it is the bounden duty
+of every man who wishes well to his
+country to bestir himself for the attainment
+of these objects.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>We have not approached this subject
+with any feeling of exacerbation.
+In demonstrating wherein Scotland
+has not received its proper meed of
+justice and consideration, we have
+been careful to avoid rash strictures
+or unworthy reflections upon our
+neighbours. If in some things we
+have suffered from neglect, and in
+others from innovation, we must not
+hastily conclude that there is a deliberate
+intention anywhere to deprive
+us of our due. The form in which
+our affairs have been administered for
+well-nigh a hundred years, is, as we
+believe we have shown, quite inadequate
+for the purpose for which it was
+originally intended; and the rapid development
+of the wealth and population
+of the country ought, long ago,
+to have suggested the propriety of a
+more rational arrangement. There is
+no occasion, in a matter of this sort,
+for any appeal to national feelings,
+which indeed it would be superfluous
+to rouse. The case is a very clear
+one, founded upon justice and public
+policy; and, if properly urged, no
+government can venture to treat it
+indifferently. But in whatever way
+this movement may be met—whether
+it is regarded with sympathy, or replied
+to by derision—it is our duty to
+aid in the assertion of our country’s
+rights; and we shall not shrink from
+its performance.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span>
+  <h2 class='c002'>FOREIGN ESTIMATES OF ENGLAND.<a id='r2'></a><a href='#f2' class='c008'><sup>[2]</sup></a></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c009'>With what heart or conscience
+can an English critic expose the
+deficiencies of a foreign book, “dedicated
+to the great, the noble, the hospitable
+English people”? Upon its
+first page he finds a compliment that
+cripples his quill. Though he had
+gall in his ink, it must turn to honey
+on his paper. Mr Schlesinger takes
+his English readers and reviewers at
+an unfair advantage. Perhaps he
+thinks to treat them like children,
+thrusting a comfit into their mouths
+to bribe them to swallow drugs. The
+flattering flourish of his commencement
+may be intended to mask the
+batteries about to open. He gags us
+with a rose, that we may silently bear
+the pricking of the thorns.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Inexhaustible interest attaches to
+the printed observations of intelligent
+foreigners upon England and its
+capital. The field is vast, and has
+been little worked. There are few
+books upon the subject either in
+French or in German, and, of such as
+there are, very few possess merit or
+have met with success. Defaced, in
+a majority of instances, by prejudice,
+triviality, or misappreciation, they
+attracted slight notice in the countries
+of their publication, and were utterly
+unheeded in that they professed to
+describe. Increased facilities of communication,
+and more extensive study
+of the English language in France
+and Germany, will bring about a
+change in this respect. We anticipate
+the appearance, within the next
+twenty years, of many foreign books
+upon England, and especially upon
+London—a city first known to Continentals,
+according to the author now
+present, in the year of grace 1851.
+“Stray travellers, bankers, wandering
+artisans, and diplomatic documents,
+had occasionally let fall a few
+words, which sounded like fairy tales,
+concerning the greatness, the wealth,
+the industry, and the politics of the
+monster city of the West; but that
+city lay, geographically, too far out
+of the way, and the phases of its historical
+development had not been
+sufficiently connected with the history
+of Continental nations, for it to be, like
+Paris, a favourite object of travel and
+study.” The cosmopolitan glasshouse
+was the glittering bait which
+drew to our shores a larger concourse
+of foreigners than England ever before
+at one time beheld, or than she
+is likely ever again to behold, at least
+in our day, unless in the rather improbable
+contingency of the French
+Emperor’s successfully realising those
+projects of invasion some are disposed
+to impute to him. A summer of unusual
+beauty, a general disposition to
+show kindness and hospitality to the
+stranger, the manifold attractions of
+that really wonderful building, unsurpassed
+save by the edifice now rising
+from its remains on the slope of a Kentish
+hill, combined to invest London
+with a charm to which foreigners who
+had already visited it were wholly unaccustomed,
+and for which those who
+for the first time beheld it were quite
+unprepared.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Max Schlesinger, well known as the
+author of one of the most successful
+and popular of the books that were
+written on the late Hungarian war, was
+amongst the visitors to the Crystal
+Palace, but must have resided in England
+for a longer period than the duration
+of that exhibition. The first
+volume of his “Wanderings,” which
+appeared last year, was written in England,
+for he dates his preface from the
+Isle of Wight. He does not profess to
+give an account of London. He felt
+that two volumes, compendious though
+they be, would be insufficient for more
+than a glance at such a multitude of
+objects for description, and of subjects
+for reflection and analysis, as are
+presented by the overgrown British
+metropolis, and he preferred dwelling
+upon a few points to glancing at a
+great many. He has hit upon an
+ingenious and amusing plan for the
+exposition of his views and maintenance
+of his impartiality. He establishes
+himself in an English family,
+in the <i>terra incognita</i> of Guildford
+Street. The master of the house, Sir
+John, who is intended as a prototype
+of his countrymen, is a thorough John
+Bull—shrewd, sensible, intelligent,
+with a moderate allowance of English
+prejudices, a warm attachment to his
+country, a well-founded conviction of
+its pre-eminence amongst the nations,
+and of the excellence of its institutions.
+Dr Keif (the word signifies a grumbler),
+another inmate of the house, and an
+old friend of Sir John’s, is an Austrian
+journalist, whose pen has taken liberties
+that have endangered his own,
+and who has sought refuge in England,
+which he begins good-humouredly
+to abuse almost as soon as he
+has landed in it. He is kind-hearted,
+impetuous, excitable, given to faultfinding
+and polemics, and nearly as
+much convinced of German superiority
+as Sir John is of that of England.
+Then there is a Frenchman, Tremplin,
+introduced in the second volume, and
+who can see nothing good out of
+Paris. An Englishman named Frolick—who
+conducts the foreigners upon
+nocturnal excursions to theatres, gin palaces,
+“penny gaffs,” the purlieus
+of Drury Lane and St Giles’s, and to
+any other place they are curious to
+study—and the ladies of Sir John’s
+family, make up the list of characters,
+amongst whom there are occasionally
+very amusing dialogues, when the
+master of the house, Keif, and Tremplin,
+hold stiff disputations as to the
+merits of their respective countries.
+Mr Schlesinger’s style is pointed, and
+often humorous; and the plan he has
+adopted imparts to his book a lightness
+and entertaining quality by no
+means invariably found in works of
+the kind; whilst it at the same time
+enables him to avoid that appearance
+of invidious dogmatism which is one
+of the most fatal pitfalls literary travellers
+are exposed to stray into.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>As may be supposed from the terms
+of his dedication, Mr Schlesinger has
+found much to like and admire in
+England, and especially in the English
+nation. His book is, upon the whole,
+highly favourable to us, although sarcastic
+Dr Keif and that puppy Tremplin
+now and then point to a raw spot.
+Evidently well acquainted with our
+language, gifted with an active mind
+and an observant eye, he has no
+need to resort to the flimsy devices of
+some recent writers on the same topic.
+There is solid pabulum in his pages,
+something superior to the flimsy lucubrations
+of one or two French writers
+we have lately fallen in with, and of
+one of whom (M. Méry) we took
+notice a few months ago. Most
+Frenchmen who write about London
+do so with an extremely superficial
+knowledge of the subject. Want of
+self-confidence is not a failing of
+theirs; they come to England with a
+mere smattering of the language, and
+with a predisposition to dislike the
+place and its customs, to laugh at the
+people, to be tortured by the climate
+and poisoned by the cooks. They remain
+a short time, examine nothing
+thoroughly, nor appreciate anything
+impartially, quit the country with
+joy, remember it with a shudder, and
+write books in which burlesque stories
+and ridiculous exaggerations are
+eked out by denunciations of perpetual
+fogs, and by hackneyed jokes concerning
+the sun’s invisibility. Such
+writers may be sometimes witty, occasionally
+amusing, but they are neither
+fair critics nor reliable authorities.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There is no plan or order in Mr
+Schlesinger’s book. Guildford Street
+is his headquarters; thence he rambles,
+usually with Dr Keif, sometimes with
+Sir John and other companions,
+whithersoever the fancy of the moment
+leads him. On their return
+home, from Greenwich or Vauxhall,
+from the House of Commons or a
+minor theatre, or from a stroll in the
+streets, they invariably find, no
+matter how late the hour, the cheerful
+tea-urn and smiling female faces
+to welcome them; and it is usually
+during these sober sederunts, whilst
+imbibing innumerable cups of bohea,
+that Sir John and Dr Keif hold those
+lively arguments which Mr Schlesinger
+has transcribed with stenographic
+fidelity. We turn to the fourth chapter
+of the second volume, headed “Westminster—The
+Parliament.” Probably
+no foreigner ever gave a more
+vivid and correct description than
+this chapter contains of things with
+which it takes both time and pains
+for a foreigner to become thoroughly
+acquainted. Doubtless Mr Schlesinger
+has been indebted to reading and conversation
+as well as to his own observations,
+and some statistical and descriptive
+parts of his work are probably
+derived from English books.
+One entire chapter, that on Spitalfields,
+he acknowledges to have taken
+from such a source. But there are
+numerous remarkable passages for
+which he can hardly be indebted to
+anything but to his own quick ear and
+sharp eye. In company with Sir John
+and Dr Keif, he goes to the Speaker’s
+Gallery of the House of Commons.
+It is five o’clock—bills are being read—presently
+the debate begins—Dr Keif,
+who has a perfect knowledge of English,
+is indignant that the chat amongst
+the members prevents his hearing the
+orators. These, he is assured by Sir
+John, who is an old frequenter of the
+House, are mere skirmishers, of little
+importance; the gossips will be still
+enough when any one worth listening
+to rises to speak. A message from the
+Upper House fixes the attention of the
+Germans, who are immensely diverted
+by the formalities with which it is presented,
+by the forward and backward
+bowing of the messengers and of the
+sergeant-at-arms, whose official costume,
+knee breeches and sword, has
+already excited their curiosity. Mr
+Schlesinger, a decided liberal in German
+politics, not unfrequently becomes
+as decidedly conservative in treating
+of English customs and institutions.
+“All these ceremonies,” he says,
+“are extraordinarily comical to the
+foreign guest, and even the Englishman,
+who enters for the first time in
+his life the workshop of his lawmakers,
+may probably be rather
+startled by such pigtailed formalities,
+although his courts of justice have
+already accustomed him to periwigs.
+In most Continental states, ceremonies
+handed down from previous
+generations, and unsuited to the
+present time, have been done away
+with as opportunity offered. People
+got ashamed of perukes and silk
+cloaks, and dismissed them to the
+lumber room, as opposed to the spirit
+of the age. Whether they might not,
+in their war against those intrinsically
+unimportant and harmless externals,
+make a commencement of more serious
+conflicts, was probably overlooked.
+In France and Germany we have
+lived to witness such conflicts. In
+the revolutions of both those countries
+the war was in great measure against
+externals, against abuses of minor
+importance, against titles of nobility,
+orders of knighthood, upper chambers,
+clerical and royal prerogatives; but
+in neither did a compact majority ever
+contrive to seize the right moment, to
+harmonise contradictions, and to secure
+the two results which should be
+the aim of every revolution—improvement
+of the condition of the people, and
+unlimited individual liberty. Where
+these two things are secured, all other
+difficulties peaceably solve themselves....
+A pacific progress ensues; a
+gradual, but so-much-the-safer activity
+of reform becomes not only possible,
+but necessary and inevitable.
+The English, even those belonging to
+the Radical party, have an instinctive
+sense of this truth. The Lower House
+has never taken the field against the
+Peers, because their wives wear coronets
+in their hair, or because the
+Queen opens and closes Parliament in
+the Upper House, upon which occasions
+the Commons stand thronged
+like a flock of sheep before the bar
+of the House of Lords,” &#38;c. &#38;c. We
+pass over some pages of interesting
+remarks to get to Mr Schlesinger’s
+sketches of certain prominent members
+of the House of Commons, merely recording,
+by the way, this German
+reformer’s opinion, that the monarchical
+principle is firmer in England at
+the present day than it was a century
+ago, before the clamour of innovation
+and revolution had swept across the
+Channel. We trust and believe that
+he is right in this opinion. We well
+know that there are, both in and out
+of Parliament, a few men, more noted
+for a certain class of talent than respected
+for consistency and high principle,
+who look upon the crown as a
+costly bauble, and would gladly see it
+replaced by a republican government.
+If they do not say as much, it is because
+they dare not, because they know
+that the press and the public would
+combine to hoot them down. But it
+is not difficult to discern the levelling
+principle that is paramount in their
+hearts. The enunciation of that principle,
+did they ever contemplate it in
+any form, has not been favoured by
+the events of the last five years. Common
+sense and shrewd perception are
+qualities claimed by Englishmen, and
+usually conceded to them even by
+those foreigners who like them least.
+We must, indeed, be lamentably deficient
+in both, not to have taken a
+warning from what we have beheld,
+since 1847, in the two most civilised
+countries of the European continent.
+There is little contagion in such examples
+as have been set to us. License,
+with despotism as a sequel,
+constitutes no very alluring prospect
+to a nation accustomed to seek its
+prosperity in industry and order. We
+have seen enough of the results of
+sudden changes abroad to desire that
+any we adopt at home should be exceedingly
+gradual and well-considered.
+Foreign revolutionists have done us
+the service which drunken helots were
+made to render to the children of
+Sparta. We have learned temperance
+from the spectacle of their degradation.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In his preface, Mr Schlesinger protests
+his impartiality, and on this
+score we have no fault to find with
+him. Some of his parliamentary portraits,
+however, are perhaps a little
+tinged by his political predilections.
+In the main they are extremely correct,
+and the likenesses undeniable.
+Mr Disraeli, Lord John Russell, Lord
+Palmerston, Colonel Sibthorp, are his
+four most prominent pictures. Lord
+John himself would hardly claim the
+designation of “a great orator” bestowed
+upon him by his German admirer,
+who, in other respects, gives a
+truthful and happy delineation of the
+Whig statesman. But the following
+sketch is the gem of the parliamentary
+chapter.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“‘So that is my Lord Palmerston,’
+whispered Dr Keif, parodying his
+friend Kappelbaumer—‘that is the
+“<i>God-preserve-us</i>” of all rational
+Continental cabinets? He yonder
+with the white whiskers, the finely-cut
+features, the striped neckcloth, and the
+brown trousers, which he probably got
+as a present from Mazzini? Yonder
+elderly gentleman, lying rather than
+sitting upon his bench, and chatting
+with his neighbour as he might do in
+a tavern? Now, by Metternich! this
+Lord Palmerston looks so cordial,
+that, if I had not read the German
+newspapers for many years past, I
+never would have believed all the
+wickedness there is in him. To think
+that yonder people do not scruple to
+converse with him! with a convicted
+partisan of rebels, in whose company
+no respectable citizen of Vienna or
+Berlin would be seen to cross a street!
+But, as we say, there is nothing in a
+man’s looks. He does not look in the
+least like a rebel or a conspirator.
+And yet to think of all the rude notes
+he has written!’</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“‘That is just because he is a great
+diplomatist,’ remarked Sir John, with
+much unction. ‘We like him so much
+the more because you, across the
+water, hate, and fear, and throw
+stones at him. He has the luck to be
+as popular at home as he is abused
+abroad. When that is not the case
+with a minister of foreign affairs,
+better pension him off at once. He
+is appointed for the very purpose of
+barking and snapping all round the
+house, to keep off intruders and thieves.
+And can you deny that Lord Palmerston
+perfectly performed his bull-dog
+mission? Was he not always on his
+legs? Did he not lustily bark like a
+chained watch-dog, so that all the
+neighbours round respected him? And
+did he ever bite anybody? No, you
+cannot say that he ever bit anybody.
+Only showed his teeth. Nothing
+more. That was enough. And that,
+merely by so doing, he frightened you
+all, that, we well know, is what you
+will never forgive.’</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“‘I would give anything in the
+world,’ cried Dr Keif, ‘to hear him
+make a little speech. How does he
+speak?’</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“‘In a way I well like to hear,’
+answered Sir John; ‘out and openly;
+no pathos, no emotion—sensibly, intelligibly—and
+above all, courteously and
+politely, as befits an English gentleman.
+It is not in his nature to be
+rude; he cannot be so, except when
+he takes pen in hand to write abroad.
+In the House he is never personal;
+and yet nobody better knows how to
+turn a troublesome questioner into
+ridicule, often in the most innocent
+manner, so that it is impossible to be
+angry with him.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“‘I was in the House last summer,’
+continued Sir John, ‘when Mr
+So-and-so questioned him about the
+foreign refugees. In such cases members
+do not put to a minister the
+straightforward question, Have you
+answered this or that note? but they
+make an introduction a yard long,
+ramble round and round the subject
+like cats round a plate of porridge,
+make a long rhetorical display before
+coming to the point. Mr So-and-so
+made a lengthy discourse—spoke until
+the sweat broke out upon his brow
+from sheer liberalism and sympathy
+with the refugees; at last he got to
+his question, Whether it was true
+that several Continental governments
+had demanded that the British Government
+should keep watch over the
+proceedings of the refugees in London?
+what governments those were?
+whether the Secretary of State for
+foreign affairs had replied to the demand?
+and whether he had any objection
+to lay before the House the
+correspondence concerning it? The
+question was not a very agreeable one
+to a minister in Lord Palmerston’s
+position. During the speech by which
+it was prefaced, he sat with his head
+bent forward and his legs crossed,
+pulling his hat down lower and lower
+upon his forehead, and frequently
+passing his handkerchief across his
+face. It seemed as if he perspired
+even more than his interrogator; he
+was evidently in the most painful embarrassment
+what to reply. Mr So-and-so
+made an end and sat down.
+The House was so silent that one
+could plainly distinguish the snoring
+of some drowsy members on the back
+benches; Palmerston slowly rose, and
+requested the speaker to repeat his
+question in plainer terms, it not having
+been put with sufficient clearness
+the first time. The fact was, it had
+been put so clearly and plainly that
+in the gallery we lost not a syllable.
+Oho! thought I, and many with me—something
+wrong here; the noble
+Lord wants to gain a few minutes to
+prepare his reply. Mr So-and-so probably
+thought the same thing. He
+got up with the air of a man who feels
+confident that he has found a sore
+place, and repeated his question in the
+following simplified form: “I beg to
+ask the Secretary of State for foreign
+affairs,” he said, “which are the foreign
+governments that have demanded
+of the British Cabinet that it should
+exercise <i>surveillance</i> over the political
+refugees in London?” He paused.
+There was dead silence. Lord Palmerston
+rose with solemn slowness, took
+off his hat, cleared his throat, as if he
+were about to make a long speech,
+said very quickly, “Not one”—threw
+his hat upon his head and himself back
+upon his seat. You may imagine the
+stupefied countenance of the questioner,
+and the roar of laughter in the
+House. Do you suppose Lord Palmerston
+had not at once understood the
+question? He understood it perfectly;
+but his meditative attitude, his request
+for its repetition, his solemn uprising,
+his clearing of his throat, his very perspiration—all,
+everything was diplomatic
+roguery, intended to heighten
+the effect of the two carelessly-spoken
+monosyllables, “Not one.” His interrogator
+looked ridiculous enough,
+but Lord Palmerston had said nothing
+that could offend him. The minister
+had so far attained his object that for
+some time afterwards he was not
+plagued with questions about refugees.
+Such scenes do not bear telling; they
+must be witnessed. When Lord Palmerston
+pleases, the House laughs,
+and all laugh, and no man is hit so
+hard that he cannot laugh with the
+rest.’”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Proceeding from a foreign pen, this
+lively parliamentary sketch must be
+admitted to be wonderfully truthful.
+Mr Schlesinger was particularly
+struck, upon his visits to the House
+of Commons, by two things, and these
+were, the longwindedness of the orators,
+and their ungraceful gesticulation.
+An English orator, he says,
+seems to make up his mind beforehand
+to abstain from gestures, and
+does his best to put his hands in a
+place of safety. Some of the attitudes,
+which are the consequence of this desire,
+he justly describes as neither
+tasteful nor elegant. “One man
+thrusts his hands into his breeches’
+pockets, another sticks them into his
+waistcoat armholes, some hide them
+inside their waistcoats, or under their
+coat tails, others take a Napoleonic
+attitude. Thus do they begin their
+speeches. But, as the Englishman is
+wont to linger no short time over the
+mere exordium of his harangue; as
+he is capable of talking much longer
+about nothing than is commonly supposed
+upon the Continent; as he has
+very good lungs; and as a large portion
+of the British public is apt to
+estimate a speech’s value by its
+length, it is quite conceivable that he
+cannot maintain, during the whole
+duration of his discourse, the posture
+he adopts at its commencement. Besides
+this, he may warm as he goes
+on, and, when this is the case, he displays
+the strangest action of his arms
+and of his whole body.” In this
+paragraph, Mr Schlesinger makes one
+grave mistake. With the exception
+of a very limited number of methodical
+old fogies—slaves to habit, and the
+curse of their clubs—who, having
+nothing else in the world to do, make
+it the business of their lives to read
+the debates from the first line to the
+last, we know of no class in the
+United Kingdom that would not
+heartily rejoice if members of Parliament
+would cultivate brevity of
+speech and early hours, as advantageous
+alike to their own health and
+to the business of the country. “What
+a capital speech; it took an hour and
+a half in delivery!” Such, according
+to Mr Schlesinger, is the form of
+praise often heard in England. He
+blunders here. People will certainly
+listen with pleasure for an hour and
+a half, or for thrice as long, if they
+have the chance, to the earnest and
+fiery eloquence of a Derby—to the
+graceful, lucid, and often witty discourse
+of a Palmerston—to the polished
+and scholarly periods of a
+Macaulay—to the incisive oratory
+of a Disraeli. They will even lend
+their attention to the somewhat drawling
+and monotonous, although business-like
+delivery of the Whig leader
+whom Mr Schlesinger has dubbed a
+great orator, because Lord John is
+supposed not to be one of those Englishmen
+whom his German admirer
+has declared to be capable of talking
+a long while about nothing at all.
+But Mr Schlesinger has taken a part
+for the whole, and imagines that English
+willingness to hear and read the
+long discourses of a few chosen and
+gifted men, extends itself to the lame
+prose of the first noodle who takes
+advantage of dinner-time to inflict
+himself upon a bare house, a yawning
+gallery, and reporters with closed
+note-books. Let him take the confession
+of members, public, and reporters,
+as to the feelings with which
+they listen to an infinitesimal economical
+calculation, or to a two hours’
+blatter about Borneo, from Mr Hume;
+or to a monody on Poland, or eulogium
+of Kossuth, from the lips of that
+most wearisome of well-meaning men,
+Lord Dudley Coutts Stuart. He will
+find that in England the value of a
+speech is not—as Byron says that of
+a very different thing should be—“measured
+by its length.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Probably the two things that foreigners,
+upon a visit to London, are
+most curious to see, are the Thames
+tunnel and Greenwich. Mr Schlesinger,
+Dr Keif, and Frolick—who seems
+an easy-going man-about-town sort of
+cockney, delighted to have the pretext
+of ciceronism to revisit all manner
+of queer haunts—take ship at
+London Bridge, their minds upon
+white bait intent. They find much
+to say upon the way, and are very
+pleasant and amusing. In the beginning
+Mr Schlesinger moralises upon
+the crowd of colliers, more precious,
+he maintains, to Britain than ever
+were gold-laden galleons to Spain.
+“Take from the British Isles their
+coals,” he says; “pour gold, silver,
+and diamonds, into the gloomy shafts;
+fill them with all the coins that have
+been coined, since the world’s commencement,
+by good and bad princes,
+and you will not replace the inflammable
+spark that lies dormant in the
+coal, and which creates vitality by its
+own exhaustion.” Then he turns his
+attention to his fellow-passengers by
+the steam-boat, and remarks that the
+difference of classes is not so strongly
+defined by costume in England as in
+France and Germany. He misses the
+linen frocks or blouses worn on the
+Continent by men of a class which, in
+England, is usually clad in broadcloth,
+though this be often ragged or threadbare.
+“In London,” he says, “if
+you see, early in the morning, a man
+hurrying along the street in a black
+coat, round hat, and white cravat, do
+not take him for a professor hastening
+to his college, or for an attaché to an
+embassy conveying important despatches
+to his chief. He probably
+has soap-box, strap, and razor in his
+pocket, or at best is shopman to some
+Regent Street haberdasher—he may
+be a waiter, a tailor, a shoemaker, or
+a boot-cleaner. Many an omnibus-driver
+sits white-cravated upon his
+lofty box, and drives his horses as
+gravely as a Methodist preacher leads
+his flock. Amongst Englishwomen,
+also, the difference of rank is not very
+easy to be inferred from their dress.
+Coloured silks, black velvet, and hats
+with botanical appurtenances, are worn
+by the maid as by her mistress.” This
+general uniformity of costume in England
+strikes most foreigners, and
+shocks many. Frenchmen, in particular,
+consider the use of old and
+second-hand clothes, common amongst
+the lower classes of our countrymen
+and countrywomen, as a sort of degrading
+barbarism. An amusingly
+impertinent French journalist, in a
+little book now before us, states his
+view of the matter in colours which
+are certainly vivid, but can hardly be
+called exaggerated. “The eternal
+black coat and white cravat!” he exclaims.
+“One might take the people
+for so many gentlemen of high degree,
+condescending, in their leisure moments,
+or from eccentric caprice, to
+weigh sugar and measure calico.
+Thus it was that I took the grocer, in
+whose house I lodge, for a gentleman,
+and, through stupid pride, dared not
+bargain for my apartment, for which
+I pay twice its value. The history of
+an English black coat would fill a
+volume, at once comic and philosophical.
+One must take it up at its birth,
+when it quits the premises of a fashionable
+tailor to grace the shoulders of
+Lord ——, who pays seven or eight
+guineas for it, on account of its inimitable
+cut. Thrown, a fortnight later,
+to the nobleman’s valet-de-chambre,
+it passes to the second-hand dandy,
+then from back to back, lengthened,
+shortened, always descending in the
+social scale, losing its buttons, gaining
+holes, and at last devolving to the
+poor devil who sweeps a crossing,
+over which prance the splendid horses
+of the lord who was its first possessor.
+Poor coat! Sold at last for three
+shillings; its fragments finally used
+to polish a table or cleanse a kitchen
+floor, until they are bought by the
+hundredweight and cast into the mill,
+to reappear in some new form. The
+fate of the coat is also that of the
+gown. The lady’s gown and hat
+begin their career in the drawing-room,
+and end it in the gutter. We
+foreigners are always shocked, on our
+first arrival in England, to see the
+servant-maids washing the door-steps
+in bonnets, which once were of velvet,
+and now are of nothing at all! One
+sometimes observes upon them certain
+vestiges which, plunged into
+Marsh’s apparatus and analysed by
+a skilful chemist, might be recognised
+as fragments of feathers, shreds of
+lace, or stalks of flowers. Does the
+cook who wears this cast-off covering,
+who wraps herself, to go to market, in
+a tattered shawl, on whose surface
+holes and stains vie for the mastery,
+imagine that she will be taken for her
+mistress going to buy her own butter
+and vegetables, as an agreeable change
+from the daily routine of park and
+opera? What strange vanity is it
+that peeps through these ragged garments?
+Why do these honest Englishmen
+prefer a gentleman’s old
+clothes to the clean blouse or warm
+strong jacket they might get for the
+same price?” There is considerable
+truth in these remarks, especially
+as regards men’s coats and women’s
+head-dress, although we do not believe,
+as does the Frenchman we
+have quoted, that the wearing of
+second-hand clothes proceeds, on the
+part at least of English <i>men</i> of the
+lower classes, from a desire to ape
+their superiors. It is one of those
+habits one can hardly explain, which
+we may designate as <i>cosa de Inglaterra</i>,
+just as Spaniards define as <i>cosa
+de España</i> any peculiar and eccentric
+usage of their country. We must
+submit the matter, one of these days,
+to our old friend and contributor, the
+author of the “Æsthetics of Dress.”
+Of one thing we are very sure, that
+no one possessing an eye—we will not
+say for the picturesque, but for what
+is neat, appropriate, and convenient—can
+travel on the Continent, without
+drawing between the everyday
+dress of the English lower orders and
+that of the corresponding classes in
+most foreign countries, comparisons
+highly unfavourable to the former.
+And this is the more surprising that,
+in most things, neatness is peculiarly
+an English characteristic. Witness
+the trim gardens, the whitewashed
+cottages, the well-swept courts of our
+villages, the vigorous application of
+brush, broom, and soap in the humblest
+dwellings of Britain. But a line
+must be drawn between the country
+and the towns. In the latter, the appearance
+of the lower classes is anything
+but well calculated to inspire
+foreigners with a high opinion of their
+regard to the external proprieties.
+We share our French friend’s horror
+of greasy, threadbare coats, and of
+bonnets requiring chemical decomposition
+to ascertain their primitive materials;
+and, were it possible, we
+would gladly see the former replaced
+by the coarse clean frock or jacket;
+the latter by the cheap coloured handkerchief
+or straw-hat, which looks so
+neat and becoming upon the heads of
+Continental peasant and servant-women.
+It is to be feared, however,
+that to agitate the change would be
+but a profitless crusade. The fault—and
+a fault we think it must be admitted
+to be—lies in the total absence
+of anything like a national costume.
+In all the more highly civilised European
+countries, this, however graceful,
+has been abandoned by the upper
+classes in favour of a conventional, and
+certainly, in most respects, a graceless
+dress. But in all those countries, except
+in England, that national costume
+has been either retained, to a
+certain extent, by the people, or exchanged
+for one more in harmony
+with their occupations—not discarded
+in favour of such absurdities as long-tailed
+coats and high-crowned beavers.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At the Thames Tunnel the two Germans
+and their companion pause, and
+Mr Schlesinger gives an account of its
+origin and progress, which will have
+novelty and interest even for many
+Londoners. On reaching Greenwich,
+the party admire the hospital—the
+finest architectural group of modern
+England, according to Mr Schlesinger,
+with whom, notwithstanding the florid
+pretensions of the new Houses of Parliament,
+we quite agree on this score.
+Greenwich is unquestionably the only
+royal palace England possesses worthy
+of the name. Windsor Castle
+ranks in a different category. “Take
+the most ingenious architect in the
+world,” says Mr Schlesinger, “bind
+his eyes, and bring him to the platform
+on which we now stand; then,
+removing the bandage, ask him the
+purpose of this magnificent pile. If
+he does not at once say that it is a
+king’s palace, he is either the most
+narrow-minded or the sharpest-witted
+mortal that ever drew the plan of a
+house. Who would suspect that all
+this splendour of columns and cupolas
+is devoted to the service of poor crippled
+old sailors? That it nevertheless
+is so, does honour to the founders and
+to the English nation.” And then
+Mr Schlesinger, who is a bit of a
+<i>frondeur</i>, and not very indulgent to
+his own country’s defects and failings,
+contrasts the thoughtful care, tender
+kindness, and splendid provision
+which England’s veterans find at
+Chelsea and Greenwich, with the deficiencies
+and discomforts of the analogous
+institution at Vienna, and with
+the absence of any at all at Berlin.
+Passing the Trafalgar, which he recommends
+to all “who are willing to
+pay more money for a good dinner
+than would keep an Irish family for a
+week,” he moralises his way through
+the Park—then full of holiday-makers,
+for it is Monday, and “the people
+indemnify themselves for the rigidity
+of English Sabbath-observance.” A
+dinner at Lovegrove’s, and speculations
+upon white bait, conclude a pleasant
+day and an amusing chapter.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mr Tremplin is described as a little
+elderly gentleman, with hair curled in
+a very youthful fashion, rosy cheeks,
+and a forest of grey whisker which
+would make him look quite fierce, but
+for the expression of mingled good-humour
+and vanity that twinkles in
+his little black eyes. For twenty
+years he had been in the habit of
+paying an occasional week’s visit to
+Sir John, and upon each succeeding
+visit he found London more and more
+gloomy and unbearable. Nothing less
+than his affection for his old friends
+could have induced him to exchange
+his heavenly Paris for the fogs of
+Thames. When in England, however,
+he amiably concealed his dissatisfaction,
+ate and drank like an Englishman,
+laughed and joked with the
+ladies from morning till night, and
+wiped his eyes when he took his leave.
+Between him and Dr Keif vehement
+discussions were of frequent occurrence.
+Tremplin was inexhaustible
+in his laudation of France; and this
+the doctor could the less endure, that
+this adulator of Paris was himself a
+German by birth, although he had
+passed his life in the French capital,
+had made his little fortune in the
+Opera Passage, and, like most renegades,
+out-Heroding Herod, was infinitely
+more French than a native-born
+Frenchman. Had he been an
+undeniable Parisian, Dr Keif might
+perhaps, from courtesy, have spared
+his feelings; but the Austrian journalist
+had no consideration for the
+feelings of a Frenchman who had first
+seen the light at Frankfort-on-the-Maine,
+and he gave his sarcastic
+tongue full swing. At dinner, one
+day, at Sir John’s, we find them at it,
+hammer-and-tongs; Monsieur Tremplin
+holding up Paris as an example
+in all respects to the entire universe;
+Dr Keif, exasperated by this exorbitant
+claim, sneering bitterly at the
+pretension.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“‘It is inconceivable,’ cried the
+doctor, ‘that all the world beside
+does not sit idle, since Paris is there
+to think and work for it. What does
+one need for universal regeneration
+beyond the <cite>Journal des Débats</cite>, which
+signifies enlightenment—Mademoiselle
+Rachel, who represents the æsthetical
+education of mankind—and
+the <i>Chasseurs d’Afrique</i> as the representatives
+of freedom? Even in the
+Paris <i>cancan</i>, immoral as it may seem,
+there is doubtless grace and decency
+enough to civilise half a world. Eh?
+What say you? And if France is
+found one morning in the guardhouse,
+it is merely because she has
+danced like mad the whole night
+through for the good of oppressed
+humanity, and her evil case is but a
+witty trick, suggested by the most
+profound ideas of emancipation; for,
+<i>enfin</i>, France can do whatever she
+wills to do. She undertakes, in broad
+daylight and before the eyes of all
+Europe, to lie down in the dirtiest
+gutter, and she succeeds. Woe to the
+benighted people who do not forthwith
+follow her example, who cannot
+see that a gutter in which France
+wallows must lead straight to salvation.
+The French are the most conceited
+and crazy people on the earth’s
+surface—a nation of witty fools, of
+genial ragamuffins, of old <i>gamins</i> and
+revolutionary lacqueys, who can neither
+govern themselves nor be governed,
+for any length of time, by
+God’s grace; they consequently, after
+their fourth revolution and third republic,
+will seek safety at the feet of
+an Orleanist or Bourbon prince, whom
+they will replace, after a while, by
+some romantic hairdresser, dancing-master,
+or cook, elected by universal
+suffrage. For my part, I vote for
+Soyer: he has at least the merit of
+having established a good school of
+cookery at the Reform Club.’”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Whilst extracting this tirade of the
+incorrigible Keif’s, we have taken no
+notice of the frequent interruptions
+attempted by the unfortunate German-Frenchman.
+The doctor’s flowers
+of rhetoric were far from fragrant to
+the nostrils of Tremplin, and the vein
+of truth that ran through his discourse
+made its somewhat brutal and exaggerated
+form yet harder to bear.
+“The most audacious blasphemy,”
+says Mr Schlesinger, “shouted into
+the ear of an English bishop’s grandmother,
+might have an effect approaching
+to that which the compliments of
+the excited Keif had upon his neighbour’s
+nerves.” Purple and perspiring,
+and unable to get in a word, poor
+Tremplin received one rattling volley
+after another, vainly endeavouring to
+escape from the iron grip the doctor
+kept upon the topmost button of his
+coat. At last he was released, with
+a parting prod from Keif’s barbed
+tongue.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“‘Notwithstanding their deeply
+sunken condition,’ the doctor said, ‘it
+is undeniable that the French, like the
+Spaniards, Italians, and Irish, are still
+a witty, diverting, and highly interesting
+nation.’</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“‘<i><span lang="fr">Infiniment obligé!</span></i>’ screamed
+Tremplin, breaking from the doctor,
+making a low bow, and thrice repeating
+the words, ‘How said you?
+Di-vert-ing! <i><span lang="fr">Infiniment obligé, Monsieur
+le Docteur!</span></i> Your German modesty
+inspires you with charming
+compliments.’</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“‘No compliment, Monsieur Tremplin,’
+replied Keif:  ‘merely my honest
+opinion.’</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“The Frenchman cast an epigrammatical
+side-glance at the doctor,
+buttoned his coat to the chin, as if
+arming himself for an important decision,
+and exclaimed in a loud voice:
+‘You are’—(A long pause ensued,
+during which all present rose in confusion
+from their seats.) ‘You are
+totally unacquainted with Paris!’</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“‘And what then?’ said Dr Keif.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“‘That is enough, I need to know
+no more. <i>Enfin</i>....’ And with a
+shrug of the shoulders in which the
+doctor should have beheld his moral
+annihilation, Mr Tremplin turned his
+back upon his opponent.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Some minutes elapsed before the
+agitation caused by this little scene
+completely subsided. In the embrasure
+of a window, the lady of the house
+poured balm into poor Tremplin’s
+wounds; Keif paced the room, his
+complexion green and yellow, visibly
+struggling with the consciousness that
+he had been too hard upon the poor
+little Frenchman—rather rudely vehement
+and sarcastic; Sir John alone
+remained at table, balancing a silver
+dessert-knife, and making a small
+speech, to which nobody listened, in
+praise of the admirable parliamentary
+order observed at English public dinners.
+“‘There, when did it occur to
+anybody, before the removal of the
+cloth, to speak on more serious subjects
+than the domestic virtues of
+turtle and turbot, the tenderness of
+the lamb and venison, the age and
+excellence of the wines, and the qualities
+of all those good things of the
+earth which are so exquisitely adapted
+to promote the harmonious intercourse
+of Whigs and Tories, High Churchmen
+and Dissenters, landlords and
+cotton lords? There is the great
+point. That is what foreigners will
+not learn. They do nothing at the
+right time and nothing thoroughly,
+therefore do they eat gall and brew
+poison.’” There may be more than
+one grain of truth in the baronet’s
+words, Mr Schlesinger opines, but he
+does not stay to discuss the subject.
+It was written that the evening should
+be one of scrutiny and controversy.
+The feud between Keif and Tremplin
+having been easily put an end to by
+Sir John’s good-humoured intervention,
+the conversation again became
+general. The doctor must go out at
+nine o’clock, he said; he had promised
+to accompany Frolick to the
+theatre, and in a stroll through the
+theatrical district of London. This
+brought up Tremplin—not, indeed, to
+renew wordy combat with the formidable
+antagonist by whom he had been
+so recently worsted, but to express
+his astonishment that anybody could
+go to a London theatre in the dead
+season. He had always understood
+that the only theatres to which <i>comme-il-faut</i>
+people went in London were
+the Italian operas and the miniature
+French playhouse in St James’s, and
+these were then closed. It was true
+that the queen annually honoured the
+obscure English theatres with a few
+visits, but that was merely out of complaisance
+to English prejudices. The
+ladies protested against this depreciation
+of the English drama; but the
+Parisian, who had quite forgotten his
+late indignation and discomfiture, did
+but smile and politely persist—developing
+his notions on an infinite variety
+of subjects with that easy, urbane,
+superficial dogmatism which characterises
+the very numerous class of
+Frenchmen who combine unbounded
+admiration of their own nation and
+country with slight esteem for, and
+considerable ignorance of, all others.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“‘<i>Mesdames!</i>’ he exclaimed, ‘you
+have no idea of all that you forego by
+living in London. It is well for you
+that you have never been in Paris, or
+you would feel like Eve when banished
+from Paradise, to which she would so
+gladly have returned for a chat with
+the seductive serpent. <i>Pardieu</i>, Paris!
+There, everyday life is an enchanting
+drama; every drawing-room
+is a stage; every chamber has its
+wings; and every one, from the porter
+to the duke, has perfectly learned
+his part. The theatres that open at
+night do but display and illuminate,
+with a magical light, the day’s comedy.
+Your worthy English people
+can neither act nor judge of acting.
+An English actor is a creature as
+much out of nature as a Parisian
+quaker. Where do you find most
+passion for the art—here or with us?
+Paris has hardly half so many inhabitants
+as London, but has many
+more theatres, and they are always
+as full as your churches. The poorest
+artisan cannot exist without sunning
+himself in the radiance of the stage;
+and will live for two days of the week
+on bread and milk, in order to save a
+few <i>sous</i> for the <i>Variétés</i> or the <i>Funambules</i>
+on Sunday evening. Show
+me the Englishman who will sacrifice
+a mouthful of his bloody roast-beef
+for the sake of a refined enjoyment.
+No, no;—you weave and spin, and
+steam and hammer, and eat and drink,
+with God knows how many horses’
+power; but as to enjoying life, you
+do not understand it. Am I right,
+<i>Madame</i>?’”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The ladies looked at each other,
+but were not ready with an answer.
+Sir John shook his head as he sat in
+his arm-chair, and remarked that
+there were good grounds for the difference.
+The Frenchman would not
+admit their goodness, and launched
+into an energetic diatribe against the
+strictness of London Sabbath-observance.
+We take it for granted that,
+even if the personages introduced into
+Mr Schlesinger’s book are not imaginary,
+the conversations he gives are
+chiefly of his own composition, intended
+to display the different sides
+of the various questions discussed;
+and that a <i>juste milieu</i> between the
+rather extreme views expressed by
+Keif and Tremplin, and occasionally
+by Sir John, may be adopted with
+tolerable certainty as the measure of
+the author’s own opinions. Of this
+last point we feel the more convinced,
+by the moderate and sensible
+manner in which Mr Schlesinger
+expresses himself when speaking in
+his own person. His delineation of
+the representatives of England, Germany,
+and France, and the manner
+in which he puts them through their
+parts, is really very spirited and clever.
+Without, of course, in the
+slightest degree coinciding in the
+levity and irreverence of the profane
+Parisian, we will give a further specimen
+of his views and notions concerning
+this country, its condition and
+institutions; views and notions which,
+allowing for the tinge (only a slight
+one) of humorous caricature thrown
+in by Mr Schlesinger, are, in our firm
+belief—we might almost say, to our
+certain knowledge—those of a great
+number of Monsieur Tremplin’s fellow-citizens.
+Having taken up the
+ball of conversation, the Frenchman
+ran on with it at a canter, curvetting
+and kicking up his heels with huge
+self-satisfaction, and highly pleased
+at having an opportunity of showing
+himself at once patriotic, eloquent,
+and gallant. He proceeded to explain
+the causes of the decline of the
+British drama.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“In the first place,” he said, “the
+performance of a play would desecrate
+the Sunday evening. The Sabbath
+must be ended as wearisomely as it
+is begun. If one speaks of this to an
+Englishman, he pulls a long face, and
+talks about the morality of the lower
+orders.  How moral the English
+lower orders are!  One sees that
+every Monday, when the drunken
+cases are brought up at the police
+offices. One man has bitten off a
+constable’s nose by way of a joke;
+another has knocked down his wife
+and danced upon her body; a third
+has cut open his better-half’s head
+with the poker. All morality and
+liquor; but, thank heaven, they have
+not been to the theatre—any more
+than to church. Don’t tell me, because
+you have more churches than
+there are days in the calendar, that
+your poor people go to them; there
+is no room for them. Your churches
+are for respectable citizens, with cash
+jingling in their pockets. Then again,
+there are thousands of quakers, methodists,
+and other fanatics, who consider
+it a deadly sin to visit a theatre
+even upon working days. And finally,
+you are all such smoky fireside
+people—so given to stick in your
+shells like snails—that it is a punishment
+to you to have to creep out of
+your houses; or else you have such
+a silly passion for green grass, that
+you go and live at the end of the
+world, where you need a carriage to
+bring you home from the theatre by
+daybreak. These terrible distances
+ruin the pocket, and cramp civilisation.
+Your much-be-praised Englishmen,
+doctor, have not got a monopoly
+of wisdom. But I pity them not. It
+is for the poor daughters of Albion
+that I feel sorry. Upon my honour,
+ladies, I should not grieve if Napoleon’s
+glorious dream were to be
+realised. Ha, ha! That would be a
+life! Fancy our <i>grande armée</i> leaping
+one day upon the British shores.
+Before the sun is up the <i>braves</i> are in
+the city, say <i>bonjour</i>, conquer, and are
+forthwith conquered—by the charms
+of the fair-haired Anglo-Saxons.
+Our soldiers ask nothing in the way
+of acknowledgment. Keep your bank,
+your religion, and your lord mayor.
+The sole glory desired by France is,
+to annihilate the dragon of English
+<i>ennui</i>. Hand in hand with the fair
+sex, the invincible army achieves that
+feat. On the first evening there is a
+great fraternity-ball at Vauxhall; the
+next morning appears a manifesto in
+the name of the liberating army, by
+which the erection of at least one
+French vaudeville theatre in every
+parish is decreed, as the sole reward
+of the victors; and in a few years,
+when these new institutions have
+taken firm root in the hearts of the
+English people, the heroic army returns
+to sunny France, promising to
+come back should you relapse into
+your puritanical hypochondria. The
+daughters of Albion stand upon their
+chalky cliffs, and wring their white
+hands in grief at their deliverers’ departure.
+What say you to this picture?
+Is it not chivalrous? Is it
+not replete with the most affecting
+disinterestedness? And do you doubt
+that it dwells in the hearts of thousands
+of Frenchmen?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If Monsieur Tremplin here paused,
+it was for breath rather than for a
+reply. Certainly it was not for want
+of matter, for he quickly resumed
+his satirical commentary on English
+usages, rattling off a string of libels
+on the dress and carriage of Englishwomen,
+on English musical taste, &#38;c.
+&#38;c.—the whole for the special benefit
+of Keif, whom he had got into a
+corner, the ladies being now busy
+tea-making. In the heap of flippancy
+and exaggeration, a few sparkles of
+sense and truth are discernible; not
+all the Frenchman’s arrows fly wide
+of the mark. He laughs pitilessly at
+the medley of colours frequently seen
+in ladies’ dresses in England; talks
+of “a scarlet shawl over an apple-green
+gown with yellow flounces, and
+a cavalry hat with ostrich feathers”
+(the judicious assortment of colours
+is one of the great studies and occupations
+of a Parisian woman’s life),
+and is altogether abominably disrespectful
+and scandalous in his remarks
+upon the fair sex of Great Britain,
+although he speaks in raptures of the
+beauty of “the raw material”—the
+beautiful hair, form, complexion, and
+so forth. Presently he gets upon the
+opera, and the dress exacted as a
+condition of admission.  “Dresscoats
+and black trousers—why not
+powder and bagwigs? It is written
+in the <cite>Morning Post</cite> that seven delicate
+ladies, in the first row of boxes,
+once fell into picturesque fainting fits,
+because a foreigner with a coloured
+neckcloth had smuggled himself into
+the pit. Be it observed that he had
+paid his bright Victorias at the door
+like anybody else.  Dress-coat is
+indispensable—black trousers ditto;
+but coat and trousers may be old,
+dirty, threadbare. It strikes one as
+strange, that, besides paying his money,
+he is to be tutored by the servants
+at a theatre-door.” Keif, listening
+with smiling indulgence to the
+petulant Frenchman, occasionally presumes
+to differ from him, or at least
+to modify his strictures on English
+tastes and usages. “One meets with
+very good musical connoisseurs in
+this country,” says the doctor; “but
+I confess that the British public’s
+digestive powers, in respect of music,
+often astonish me. John Bull sits
+out two symphonies by Beethoven,
+an overture of Weber’s, a couple of
+fugues by Bach, half-a-score of Mendelssohn’s
+songs, and half-a-dozen
+other airs and variations, and goes
+home and sleeps like a marmot. At
+the theatre he will take in a tragedy
+by Shakespeare, a three-act comedy
+from the French, a ballet, and a substantial
+London farce. All that does
+not spoil his stomach.”  Tremplin
+was delighted to find the doctor falling
+into his line. “Yes,” he said,
+“nothing satisfies these people but
+quantity.  The Englishman throws
+down his piece of gold and asks for a
+hundredweight of music”—and he
+urged the doctor to go to Paris. Sir
+John was the best creature in the
+world, but he was an original—an
+oddity. The doctor, upon the other
+hand, was a man of sense and observation;
+and before he had worn out
+a couple of pair of shoe-soles upon
+the asphalt of the boulevards, his eyes
+would be opened.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“<i>Pardieu!</i> Paris!” cried the little
+man, getting very excited. “The
+whole civilised world dresses itself out
+in the cast-off clothes of Paris. What
+has Paris not? Do you wish religion?
+There are Lacordaire, Lamennais,
+and the <i>Univers</i>. Religion of
+all sorts. Are you a lover of philosophy?
+Go to Proudhon. For my
+part, to speak candidly, I care neither
+for philosophy nor religion; both are
+<i>mauvais genre</i>, and I should not mind
+if M. Proudhon were hung; but that
+does not prevent me, as a Frenchman,
+from being proud of him. In a word,
+you will convince yourself that the
+whole world beside is but a bad imitation
+of Paris. There you find heaven
+and the other place, order and
+freedom, the romance of orgies and
+the solitude of the cloister, all combined
+in the most beautiful harmony—in
+the most magnificent and elegant
+form. Of one thing especially”—and
+Tremplin laid his hand, with the earnestness
+of an apostle, upon the shoulder
+of the astounded Keif—“be well
+assured, and that is, that nowhere
+but in Paris can you learn to speak
+French. Impossible. You never
+catch the accent. England’s climate
+is the most dangerous of all for the
+pronunciation. I, an old Parisian,
+still am sensible of the pestilential
+influence the jargon here spoken has
+upon my tongue; and whenever I return
+to Paris from London, I feel
+ashamed before my own porter.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The hour was come for Keif to bend
+his steps theatrewards. Sir John
+escorted him to the door, and apologised,
+by the way, for the provocation
+Tremplin had given him at dinner.
+It was some slighting remark about
+Germans—an intimated opinion that
+they would never be accessory to the
+combustion of the Thames—that had
+first roused the ire of Keif, and provoked
+his tremendous denunciation
+of Frenchmen as all that is frivolous,
+unstable, and contemptible.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“‘What can you expect from a
+Frenchman?’ said Sir John. ‘He
+is a harmless soul, but a great oddity;
+one might make money by exhibiting
+him in Piccadilly. When I first knew
+him I took some trouble with him,
+and tried to give him an idea of what
+England is; but, as the proverb says,
+you cannot argue a dog’s hind-leg
+straight. You will never catch <i>me</i>
+arguing with him again.’”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Keif went his way, chuckling at
+the notion of this precious pair of
+mortals taxing each other with oddity,
+and totally unconscious that he himself
+was as great an oddity as either
+of them. It was long after midnight
+when he returned home. Everybody
+was gone to bed, the servant told
+him, except Sir John and Monsieur.
+He found them at their chamber-doors;
+with candles, burnt low, in
+their hands. The baronet had forgotten
+his resolution;—he was trying
+to argue the dog’s hind-leg straight.
+The pair were in the heat and fervour
+of a discussion, which had evidently
+been of long duration. Shakspeare
+and Frenchwomen were its rather
+strangely assorted subjects. The
+doctor caught a few sentences as he
+passed, wished the disputants good
+night, and turned into bed. Fully a
+quarter of an hour elapsed before they
+evacuated the lobby to follow his
+example. Keif laughed to himself.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“‘So,’ he said, ‘in Monsieur
+Tremplin’s eyes, Shakespeare is deficient
+in power; and Sir John denies
+that Frenchwomen are graceful! Was
+there ever such a pair of originals?’
+And so saying, the third original went
+to sleep.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>We need hardly say that the ramble
+of Dr Keif (by whom we suspect
+Mr Schlesinger himself is meant)
+through the theatrical purlieus, furnished
+abundant materials for a chapter.
+It was Saturday—the very night
+to see the Drury district in its glory;
+for wages had been paid, and after
+twelve no liquor would be sold; so
+the fortunate recipients of cash were
+making the most of the short night.
+This chapter, like some others in the
+book, shows such a thorough familiarity
+with, and correct perception of,
+London low life—is so totally different,
+in short, from the blundering
+and exaggerated pictures one usually
+meets with in accounts of London by
+foreigners—that we are more than
+once tempted, whilst reading it, to
+suspect the writer of unacknowledged
+obligations to English authors. But
+Mr Schlesinger has, we have no doubt,
+been long resident in England, and
+as he, moreover, in one or two instances,
+indicates by a note his appropriation
+of English materials, we
+dismiss from our mind the idea of
+unconfessed plagiarism. Since we
+do so, we must not refuse him the
+praise to which his faithful and striking
+sketches fairly entitle him. With
+him and Frolick, we turn out of the
+Strand, through a narrow court, into
+Drury Lane.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“In the shops which occupy the
+ground floor of almost all the houses,
+are exposed for sale, at low prices,
+shabby female apparel, coarse eatables,
+low literature with horrible
+illustrations, strong shoes, old clothes,
+abominable cigars, cold and hot meat.
+But the most prominent feature in
+the whole of Drury Lane is the gin
+palace, whose favourite station is at
+corners, where the lane is intersected
+by cross streets. The gin palace contrasts
+with the adjacent buildings
+pretty much as does a Catholic church
+with the cottages of a Slavonian village.
+From afar it looms like a lighthouse
+to the thirsty working man;
+for it is sumptuous with plate glass
+and gilt cornices, and dazzling with
+a hundred many-coloured inscriptions.
+Here, in the window, is the
+portrait of a giant from Norfolk, who
+is employed in the house to draw
+liquor and customers; yonder, in
+green letters upon the pane, we read—‘The
+Only Genuine Brandy in London;’
+or, in red letters—‘Here is
+sold the celebrated strengthening
+wholesome Gin, recommended by all
+the doctors’—‘Cream Gin’—‘Honey
+Gin’—‘Genuine Porter’—‘Rum that
+would knock down the Devil,’ &#38;c.
+&#38;c. Often the varnished door-posts
+are painted from top to bottom with
+suchlike spirited announcements. It
+is to be remarked, that even those
+gin shops which externally are the
+most brilliant, within are utterly comfortless.
+The landlord intrenches
+himself behind the bar, as in a fortress
+where his customers must not enter.
+The walls in this sanctuary are covered
+with a whole library of large
+and small casks, painted of various
+colours. The place thus partitioned
+off is sometimes a picture of cleanliness
+and comfort, and within it an
+arm-chair invites to repose; but in
+front of the bar, for the customers,
+there is nothing but a narrow dirty
+standing place, rendered yet more
+disagreeable by the continual opening
+and shutting of the doors, and where
+the only seat, if there be one at all,
+is afforded by an empty cask in a corner.
+Nevertheless the palace receives
+a constant succession of worthy
+guests, who, standing, reeling, crouching
+or lying, muttering, groaning or
+cursing, drink and—forget.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“On sober working days, and in
+tolerable weather, there is nothing
+remarkable, to the uninitiated, in the
+appearance of Drury Lane. Many a
+little German capital is worse lighted,
+and not so well paved. Misery is less
+plainly legible upon the physiognomy
+of this district than upon that of Spitalfields,
+St Giles’s, Saffron Hill, and
+other wretched corners of London.
+But at certain times it oozes, like Mississippi
+slime, out of every pore. On
+Saturday evenings, after working-hours,
+on the evening of holiday-Monday,
+and after church on Sunday,
+Drury Lane is seen in its glory. On
+the other hand, Sunday morning in
+Drury Lane is enough to give the
+most cheerful person the spleen. For
+the poorer classes of labourers the
+Lord’s day is a day of penance, without
+church to go to or walk to take.
+The well-dressed throngs that fill
+parks and churches scare smock-frock
+and fustian-jacket into the beer-shops.
+For the English proletarian is ashamed
+of his rags, and knows not how to
+drape himself with them picturesquely,
+like the Spanish or Italian lazzarone,
+who holds beggary to be an honourable
+calling. In the deepest misery, the
+Englishman has still pride enough to
+shun the society of those even half a
+grade superior to himself, and to confine
+himself to that of his equals,
+amongst whom he may freely raise
+his head. And then church and park
+have no charm for him. His legs are
+too weary for a walk into the country;
+boat, omnibus, and railway, are too
+dear. His church, his park, his club,
+his theatre, his refuge from the exhalations
+of the sewers above which he
+dwells and sleeps, are the gin palace.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This is a gloomy, but we fear, to a
+certain extent, too true a picture. In
+every large city, and particularly in
+such an overgrown one as London, a
+certain-amount of misery of the kind
+above depicted must exist; there must
+be a certain number of human beings
+living in a state of almost total deprivation
+of those blessings which
+God intended all his creatures to
+share—of a pure air, of the sight of
+fields and flowers, of opportunities to
+praise His name in the society of their
+fellow-men. But we are pretty sure
+Mr Schlesinger has lived long enough
+in England to discern, and has
+candour enough to admit, that in no
+country in the world are such generous,
+energetic, and unceasing efforts
+made by the more fortunate classes
+for the moral and physical betterment
+of the unfortunates whose degraded
+condition he graphically and truly describes.
+That which in most European
+countries is left almost entirely
+to the charge of government, and
+which is consequently often left undone,
+or at best half done, is effected
+in England by the cordial co-operation
+of the government and the nation,
+aided by a press which must in justice
+be admitted to be ever ready to give
+publicity to social grievances, to the
+sufferings of particular classes, and to
+practical suggestions for their alleviation
+or remedy. Fortunate inhabitants
+of a favoured land, we must not
+allow the difference just pointed out
+to inflate our national vanity over-much.
+In no country is there so much
+private wealth as in England, and
+thus, when we seem to give much, we
+may be giving not more than others
+whose means are less, but their will
+as good. Then there is, undeniably,
+another, and we should perhaps say
+a selfish, motive for the energetic,
+efficient, and liberal manner in which
+the opulent and well-to-do classes of
+Englishmen take up and prosecute
+schemes for the amelioration of their
+poorer countrymen. An observant
+people, shrewd in deduction, and setting
+common sense above every other
+mental quality, we take warning by
+our neighbours. And we feel that the
+best safeguard for institutions we all
+revere and cherish—the best security
+against sedition and revolution, and
+against the propagation, by designing
+knaves and misguided enthusiasts, of
+that jacobinism whose manœuvres and
+excesses have proved so fatal in other
+lands—is a generous and humane consideration
+of the wants and sufferings
+of the poorer classes, and an earnest
+endeavour to elevate their condition.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>And let us acknowledge, with thankfulness,
+that we have good stuff to
+work upon; that if the higher classes
+show themselves prompt in sacrifices,
+a praiseworthy patience is displayed
+by those they strive to succour. The
+Parisian artisan or day-labourer, although
+probably less of a bellygod
+than the Londoner of the same class,
+quickly gets irate when he finds bread
+dear and commons short; and, upon
+the first suggestion from any democrat
+who promises him a big loaf, is
+ready enough to “descend into the
+street,” tear up the pavement, build a
+barricade, and shoot his brother from
+behind it. Contrast this with the
+fortitude and long-suffering of the
+poor gin-and-beer-drinking people
+whom Mr Schlesinger qualifies (and
+the terms, perhaps, may not be justly
+gainsaid) as besotted and obtuse of
+sense. Grant that they be so; they
+yet have qualities which constitute
+them valuable citizens of a free country.
+They will toil, when work is to
+be had; they have an innate respect
+for law and order, and a manly pride
+which makes them shun a workhouse
+coat as an abject livery; they loathe
+the mendicancy in which the southern
+lazzarone luxuriates; they are not
+insensible to the benevolent efforts
+constantly making in their behalf;
+and they take little heed of the demagogue’s
+artful incitements.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“There is hardly any people,”
+muses Mr Schlesinger, in a very different
+part of his book and of London,
+(when strolling at the Hyde Park end
+of Piccadilly), “that loves a green
+tree and an open lawn so heartily as
+the English. They have not less reverence
+for the noble trees in their
+parks than had the Druids for the
+sacred oaks in their consecrated
+groves; and it does one’s heart good
+to see that the struggle with Nature,
+the striving to apply her powers
+to wool-carding and spindle-turning,
+does not destroy the feeling for those
+of her beauties which cannot be converted
+into capital and interest. The
+English nation refute, in their own
+persons, the oft-repeated lie that
+‘excessive’ cultivation (civilisation)
+estranges men from their primitive
+childish feelings. In England, more
+than in any other part of the world,
+are fire and water, earth and air,
+made use of as bread-winners; in
+England, the ploughed field is fattened
+with manure gathered on barren reefs
+thousands of miles distant; in England,
+nature is forced to produce the
+enormous water-lilies of the tropics,
+and to ripen fruits of unnatural size;
+in England, one eats grapes from
+Oporto, oranges from Malta, peaches
+from Provence, pine-apples from Jamaica,
+bananas from St Domingo, and
+nuts from Brazil. That which the
+native soil produces only upon compulsion,
+and at great cost, is borrowed
+from other zones, but not on that account
+are his native trees and meadows,
+woods and shrubberies, less
+dear to the Englishman.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mr Schlesinger will not doubt that
+this love of rural scenes and nature’s
+beauties, which he so happily and
+gracefully discriminates and defines, is
+common to all classes of Englishmen.
+We believe that it is, and we recognise
+in it a propitious sign. The poor
+people he has seen, during his Sabbath
+rambles in London’s “back-slums,”
+losing sight of the blessed
+sunshine, and immuring themselves in
+a tap-room or gin palace, would perhaps,
+but for their ragged garments,
+weary limbs, and scantily furnished
+pockets, have preferred, like their betters,
+a country ramble, to the cheap
+and deleterious excitement provided
+for them by Booth and Barclay. But
+we feel that we are arguing without
+an opponent. We can only trust, and
+we do so trust, seriously and gladly,
+that the day will never come when
+the consciousness that the attainment
+of perfection is impossible will deter
+English legislators and philanthropists
+from devoting their utmost energies
+and abilities to the improvement of
+the meanest and most depraved classes
+of their fellow-countrymen.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The conviction that Shakespeare is
+better known, better understood, and,
+above all, better acted in Germany than
+in England, is very prevalent in the
+former country, where we have often
+heard it boldly put forward and sustained.
+When in Shakespeare’s native
+land, Germans may possibly be more
+modest in their pretensions; and yet
+we must not be too confident of that,
+when we see a German company selecting
+Shakespeare’s plays for performance
+before a refined and critical
+London audience. The recent performances
+of Emil Devrient and his
+companions, give especial interest to
+some theatrical criticisms put forth by
+Dr Keif for the benefit of his friend
+Frolick, seated by his side in the pit
+of the Olympic Theatre. He is of
+opinion that English actors, when rendering
+Shakespeare’s characters, cling
+too tenaciously to tradition, and aim
+too little at originality. After a visit
+to a penny theatre, of the proceedings
+at which he gives a most laughable
+account, he returns, at some length, to
+the subject of the English stage, and
+highly praises certain English comic
+actors as excellent, and superior to
+any of the same class in Germany.
+“I know nothing better,” he says,
+“than Matthews at the Lyceum, and
+Mrs Keeley. There you have natural
+freshness, vigour, ease, and finesse, all
+combined in right proportions. There
+is less heartiness about our German
+comic performances; they always remind
+me of the strained vivacity of a
+bookworm in a drawing-room; now
+the author, then his interpreter, is too
+visibly forced in his condescension.”
+What follows is less complimentary.
+“When I for the first time, at Sadler’s
+Wells, saw Romeo and Juliet
+performed, I bit my lips all to pieces.
+Juliet looked as if she came from a
+ladies’ school at Brompton, instead of
+an Italian convent; the orthopedical
+stays and backboard were unmistakable:
+as to Romeo, I would unhesitatingly
+have confided to him the
+charge of an express train, so sober
+and practical was his air, so solid and
+angular each one of his movements.
+The same impression was made upon
+me by Mercutio, Tybalt, Lorenzo. It
+was not that they displayed too little
+vocal and mimic power; on the contrary,
+it was because they gesticulated
+like madmen, and ranged up and down
+the entire gamut of human tones, from
+a whistle to a roar, that I too plainly
+saw that no tragic passion was in
+them. The same company afterwards
+delighted me in comic pieces.” In
+English theatricals Mr Schlesinger’s
+taste is strongly for the humorous;
+the broader the farce and the thicker
+the jokes, the better he is pleased. A
+Christmas pantomime, with its practical
+fun and methodical folly, delights
+him. He is wonderstruck and enchanted
+by the mischievous agility of
+clown, and the only drawback to his
+pleasure is the inappropriate introduction
+of a ballet. “To see twenty or
+thirty Englishwomen, of full grenadier
+stature, perform a ballet-dance ten
+minutes in length, is an enjoyment
+from which one does but slowly recover.
+To this day I live in the firm
+conviction that the worthy young women
+had not the least idea that they
+were called upon for an artistical performance,
+but took their long legs for
+mathematical instruments, with which
+to demonstrate problems relating to
+right angles, the hypothenuse, and the
+squaring of the circle.” This sarcasm
+elicited a long reply from Frolick, who
+had once, it seems, been a <i>fideler
+bursch</i> in Heidelberg, who knew German
+well, and had seen Shakespeare
+acted in both countries. In some respects
+he preferred the German performance
+of Hamlet and Romeo and
+Juliet, but Richard III. and Falstaff
+were to be seen best in England. The
+decline of the drama in this country
+he attributed to a complication of
+causes, of which he cited two—the
+nation’s preoccupation with matters
+more practical and important, and
+the want of a government support.
+“In your country,” he said, “thirty
+courts cherish, foster, and patronise
+the theatre; here, every theatre is a
+private speculation. When the Queen
+has taken a box at the Princess’s
+Theatre and another at Covent Garden,
+she has done all that is expected from
+her Majesty in the way of patronage
+of the drama. Upon the same boards
+upon which to-day you hear the swanlike
+notes of Desdemona, you to-morrow
+may behold an equestrian troop
+or a party of Indian jugglers. If you
+complain of such desecration of the
+muse’s temple, you are simply laughed
+at. Aubry’s dog, which so excited
+the holy indignation of Schiller and
+Goethe, would be welcomed at any of
+our theatres, so long as he filled the
+house.” Without going the length of
+restricting theatrical performances to
+what is termed the legitimate drama,
+there ought to be a limit to illegitimacy,
+and unquestionably the introduction
+upon our stage of tumblers,
+jugglers, and posture-masters, circus-clowns,
+rope-dancers, and wild Indians,
+has powerfully contributed to
+lower its character, and to wean many
+lovers of the drama from the habitual
+frequenting of theatres. But
+the stage in England has not the importance
+and weight it enjoys in some
+foreign countries; notably in France,
+where it is one of the means used to
+distract from politics the attention of
+the restless excitement-loving people;
+where ministers of state, and imperial
+majesty itself, condescend to interfere
+in minute dramatic details, and to
+command the suppression of pieces
+whose merits they deem beneath the
+dignity of the theatre at which they
+are produced. There, it is worth a
+government’s while to subsidise the
+theatres; in England such an item
+would never be tolerated in a chancellor
+of the exchequer’s budget. Nor
+is it needed. Public demand will
+always create as large a supply as is
+really required.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Pleasantly and intelligently criticising
+and discoursing, the German
+doctor and his companion took their
+way again through Drury Lane,
+witnessing more than one disgusting
+scene of drunkenness, riot, and brutality.
+It was hard upon midnight:
+the gin palaces and their frequenters
+were making the most of their last
+few minutes; the barrows of battered
+fruit and full-flavoured shell-fish were
+trading at reduced prices, upon the
+principle of small profits and quick
+returns; oysters as big as a fist
+were piled up by threes and fours, at
+a penny a heap—poverty and oysters,
+Mr Weller has informed us, invariably
+walk hand in hand; here was a girl
+carried away dead drunk upon a
+stretcher—“it was the hunger,” an
+old Irishwoman, with a glowing pipe
+in her mouth, assured the gentleman,
+“that had done it—oh! only the hunger—the
+smallest drop had been too
+much for poor Sall;” here a brace of
+Amazons were indulging in a “mill”
+in the centre of an admiring ring; in
+front of a public-house a half-famished
+Italian ground out the air of “There’s
+a good time coming, boys—wait a little
+longer,” the organist looking the while
+as if he had great need of the “good
+time,” and very little power to wait.
+Suddenly the lights went out in the
+gin palaces, ballad-singers and hurdygurdy
+stopped short in the middle of
+their melodies, shouts and curses subsided
+into a hoarse murmur, and the
+mob dispersed and disappeared, to
+adopt Mr Schlesinger’s severe comparison,
+“like dirty rain-water that
+rolls into gutters and sewers.” The
+amateur observers of London’s blackguardism
+pursued their homeward
+way.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Suddenly, from a side street, a
+tall figure emerged with long noiseless
+steps, and cast a glance right and
+left—no policeman was in sight. Then
+she rapidly approached our two friends
+and fixed her glassy eyes upon them.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“It is no midnight spectre, but
+neither is it a being of flesh and blood,
+it consists but of skin and bone. Upon
+her arm is an infant, to which the
+bony hand affords but a hard dying-bed.
+For a few seconds she gazes at
+the strangers. They put some silver
+into her hand. Without a word of
+thanks, or of surprise at the liberality
+of the alms, she walks away.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“‘The holy Sabbath has commenced,’
+said Keif, after they had
+proceeded for some distance in silence,
+‘the puritanical Sabbath, on which
+misery feels itself doubly and trebly
+forlorn.’</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“‘My dear friend,’ replied Frolick,
+‘five-and-twenty years ago you might
+have paved Oxford Street with such
+unhappy wretches as that we just now
+met. Now you must seek them out
+in a nook of Drury Lane. And the
+puritanism of the present day is a
+rose-coloured full-blooded worldling,
+compared to that of the Roundheads;
+it is nothing but the natural reaction
+against the licentious cavalier spirit,
+created by the gloomy hypocrisy that
+prevailed before the Restoration, and
+handed down even to the beginning
+of the present century. It is English
+nature to cure one extreme by running
+into the other. Either wildly
+jovial or prudishly refined; drunkards
+or teetotallers; prize-fighters or peace-society-men.
+If the perception of a
+harmonious happy medium, and the
+instinct of beauty of form, were innate
+in us, either we should no longer
+be the tough, hard-working, one-sided,
+powerful John Bull, or we
+should ere now have proved the untruth
+of your German proverb that in
+no country under the sun do trees
+grow until their branches reach the
+sky.’”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>After which modest intimation
+(somewhat Teutonic in style) of his
+patriotic and heartfelt conviction that
+if England were a little better than
+she is, she would be too good for this
+world, Frolick took leave of his friend.
+We shall soon follow his example.
+Before doing so, we recommend to
+all English readers of German, the
+twelfth chapter of Mr Schlesinger’s
+second volume, both as very interesting
+and as containing many sensible
+observations and home-truths. No
+extraordinary acuteness is necessary
+to discriminate between the writer’s
+jest and earnest.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“The reader acquainted with
+English domestic arrangements,” says
+Mr Schlesinger in a note to his first
+volume, “will long ago have found
+out that the house we live in is that
+of a plain citizen. So we may as
+well confess that Sir John is neither
+knight nor baronet, but was dubbed
+by ourselves, in consideration of his
+services to the reader, without licence
+from the Queen, and with a silver
+spoon instead of a sword.” Sir John
+is not the less—if Mr Schlesinger’s
+sketch be a portrait—a good fellow
+and a worthy simple-hearted Englishman;
+and we find with pleasure, at
+the close of the book, a letter from
+him, dated from his cottage in the
+country, and addressed to the cynical
+Keif, who was braving November’s
+fogs in Guildford Street. The
+doctor had sent to his friend and
+host the proof-sheets of the second
+volume of the <cite>Wanderings through
+London</cite>; Sir John writes back his
+thanks, his opinion of the work, and
+his cordial forgiveness of the jokes at
+his expense that it contains. “Never
+mind,” he says; “we Englishmen
+can stomach the truth; and if you will
+promise me to abjure some portion of
+your German stiffneckedness, I willingly
+pledge myself never again to
+try to reason a Frenchman’s hind-leg
+straight. Between ourselves, that
+was the greatest absurdity our friend
+has exposed. As to all the rest, I
+will maintain my words before God,
+the Queen, and my countrymen.
+But,” continues Sir John, quitting
+personal considerations, “as regards
+our friend’s book—which, you tell me,
+is to be published at Christmas in
+Berlin, the most enlightened of German
+cities—I really fear, my dear
+doctor, that it is a bad business.
+How, in heaven’s name, are Germans
+to form an idea of London from those
+two meagre volumes? Many things
+are depicted in them, but how many
+are neglected, and these the very
+things in which you Germans should
+take a lesson from us! Not a word
+about our picture-galleries, which,
+nevertheless, impartially speaking,
+are the first in the world! Not a
+word about the British Museum,
+about the Bridgewater, Vernon, and
+Hampton Court galleries! Not a
+word about St Paul’s, nor a syllable
+concerning the Colosseum, Madame
+Tussaud, or Barclay and Perkins’
+Brewery! No mention of our finest
+streets—Regent Street, Bond Street,
+Belgravia, and Westbourne Terrace;
+of our concerts at Exeter Hall, our
+markets, our zoological and botanical
+gardens, Kew, Richmond, Windsor,
+art, literature, benevolent institutions,”
+&#38;c. &#38;c. Sir John continues
+his enumeration of omissions, until it
+seems to comprise everything worth
+notice in London; and we ask ourselves
+with what Mr Schlesinger has
+filled the eight hundred pages we
+have read with so much satisfaction
+and amusement. We perceive that
+he has given his attention to men
+rather than to things, that his vein
+has been reflective and philosophical,
+and that he has not mistaken himself
+for the compiler of a London guide.
+But still Sir John is dissatisfied. In
+Berlin, he says, “people will imagine
+England has no picture-galleries—ha!
+ha! and no hospitals—ha! ha! ha!
+In ten such volumes, the materials
+would not be exhausted.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“It is delightful here in the country,”
+concludes Sir John, breaking off his
+criticism. “Where do you find such
+fresh green, and such mild air in November
+as in our England? I go out
+walking without a greatcoat, and say
+to myself, ‘Across the water, in Germany,
+the snow lies deep, and the
+wolves walk in and out of Cologne
+Cathedral.’ Here it is a little damp
+of a morning and evening, but then
+one sits by the fire and reads the
+newspaper. Nowhere is one so comfortable
+as in the country in England.
+Come and see us in our cottage; the
+children are longing to see you, and
+so am I.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Then comes a postscript, which,
+like many postscripts, is not the least
+important part of the letter. “At
+this damp time of the year,” says the
+spoon-dubbed baronet, “I advise
+you to take a small glass of cognac of
+a morning—there must still be some
+bottles of the right sort in the cellar—and
+every night one of my pills. You
+will find a boxful on the chimney-piece
+in my study.  Do not be
+obstinate: you do not know how
+dangerous this season of the year is
+in England.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>So kind and hospitable a letter demanded
+a prompt reply, and accordingly
+we get Dr Keif’s by return of
+post. It is pretty evident, however,
+that the motive of his haste is rather
+anxiety to answer the charge of incompleteness
+brought against Max
+Schlesinger’s book, than generous
+impatience to thank Sir John for
+placing the pill-box at his disposal.
+The author of the <cite>Wanderings</cite>, he
+says, preferred dissecting and dwelling
+upon a few subjects to slightly
+touching upon a large number; and,
+in his usual caustic strain, he reminds
+his friend, that if some things of
+which London has a right to be proud
+have been left unnoticed, the same
+has been the case with other things
+of which she has reason to be ashamed.
+He then enumerates the blots, as Sir
+John had detailed the glories. Having
+done so: “it is horrible here in
+London,” he says. “Where do you
+find such fogs and such a pestilential
+atmosphere, in November, as in your
+London? That the wolves now walk
+in and out of Cologne Cathedral is a
+mere creation of your Britannic imagination;
+and, since you talk of doing
+without a greatcoat, why, the English
+walk about the whole winter through,
+in Germany, in black dresscoats, but
+they are cunning enough to carry
+several layers of flannel underneath
+them. Have you by chance discarded
+yours? That you are comfortable in
+your country-house I have no doubt.
+<i>That</i> I never disputed.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In his turn, Dr Keif treats himself
+to a postscript. “Since this morning,”
+he says, “I have followed your medical
+prescription, and will keep to it—partially,
+that is to say. I found the
+cognac, and will take it regularly.
+On the other hand, when you return
+to London, you will find your
+pills untouched upon your chimney-piece.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>And so we come to “Finis.” Mr
+Schlesinger is a genial and unprejudiced
+critic of a foreign capital’s customs
+and character, and we thank him for
+his agreeable, spirited, and impartial
+volumes. By his own countrymen
+they will, or we are greatly mistaken,
+be highly and deservedly prized.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_303'>303</span>
+  <h2 class='c002'>NEW READINGS IN SHAKESPEARE.<a id='r3'></a><a href='#f3' class='c008'><sup>[3]</sup></a></h2>
+</div>
+<h3 class='c012'>NO. II.</h3>
+
+<p class='c013'>If the glory of Shakespeare is a
+theme for national congratulation, the
+purity of his text ought to be an object
+of national concern. It is not
+enough that the general effect of his
+writings should impress itself clearly
+on the hearts and minds of all classes
+of readers; that the grander and
+broader features of his genius should
+commend themselves to the admiration
+of all mankind. This they can
+never fail to do. The danger to which
+Shakespeare is exposed is not such as
+can ever materially affect the soul and
+substance of his compositions. Here
+he stands pre-eminent and secure. But
+he is exposed to a danger of another
+kind. As time wears on, his text
+runs periodically the risk of being extensively
+tampered with; whether by
+the introduction of <i>new</i> readings, properly
+so called, or by the insertion of
+glosses of a comparatively ancient
+date. The carelessness with which it
+is alleged the earlier editions were
+printed, is pleaded as an apology for
+these conjectural corrections;—one
+man’s ingenuity sets to work the wits
+of another; and thus, unless the <i>cacoethes
+emendandi</i> be checked betimes, a
+distant posterity, instead of receiving
+our great poet’s works in an authentic
+form, may succeed to a very adulterated
+inheritance.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This consideration induces us to
+exert such small power as we may
+possess to check the growing evil, and
+in particular to repress that deluge of
+innovations which Mr Collier has lately
+let loose upon the gardens of Shakespeare,
+from the margins of his corrected
+folio of 1632, and which, if they
+do not shake the everlasting landmarks,
+at any rate threaten with destruction
+many a flower of choicest
+fragrance and most celestial hue. We
+believe that when Mr Collier’s volume
+was first published, the periodical
+press was generally very loud in its
+praises. “Here we have the genuine
+Shakespeare at last,” said the journals,
+with singular unanimity. But
+when the new readings have been
+dispassionately discussed, and when
+the excitement of their novelty has
+subsided, we believe that Mr Collier’s
+“Shakespeare restitutus,” so
+far from being an acceptable present
+to the community, will be perceived
+to be such a book as very few
+readers would like to live in the same
+house with.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In order, then, to carry out what
+we conceive to be a good work—the
+task, namely, of defending the text
+of Shakespeare from the impurities
+with which Mr Collier wishes to inoculate
+it—we return to the discussion
+(which must necessarily be of a minute
+and chiefly verbal character) of the
+new readings. We shall endeavour to
+do justice to the old corrector, by
+bringing forward every alteration
+which looks like a real emendation.
+Two or three small matters may perhaps
+escape us, but the reader may
+be assured that they are very small
+matters indeed. It will be seen that
+the unwise substitutions constitute an
+overwhelming majority. The play that
+stands next in order is “King John.”</p>
+
+<p class='c009'><span class='sc'>King John</span>—<i>Act II. Scene 1.</i>—In
+this play the new readings are of no
+great importance. A few of them may
+equal the original text—one or two may
+excel it—but certainly the larger portion
+fall considerably below it in point
+of merit. The best emendation occurs
+in the lines in which young Arthur
+expresses his acknowledgments to
+Austria—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“I give you welcome with a powerless hand,</div>
+      <div class='line'>But with a heart full of <i>unstained</i> love.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The MS. corrector proposes “<i>unstrained</i>
+love,” which perhaps is the
+better word of the two, though the
+change is by no means necessary. The
+same commendation cannot be extended
+to the alteration which is proposed
+in the lines where Constance is endeavouring
+to dissuade the French king
+from engaging precipitately in battle.
+She says—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“My lord Chatillon may from England bring</div>
+      <div class='line'>That right in peace, which here we urge in war;</div>
+      <div class='line'>And then we shall repent each drop of blood,</div>
+      <div class='line'>That hot rash haste so <i>indirectly</i> shed.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Indirectly” is Shakespeare’s word.
+The MS. corrector suggests “indiscreetly”—a
+most unhappy substitution,
+which we are surprised that the generally
+judicious Mr Singer should approve
+of. “Indiscreetly” means imprudently,
+inconsiderately. “Indirectly”
+means wrongfully, iniquitously, as may
+be learnt from these lines in King
+Henry V., where the French king is
+denounced as a usurper, and is told
+that Henry</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in14'>“bids you, then, resign</div>
+      <div class='line'>Your crown and kingdom, <i>indirectly</i> held</div>
+      <div class='line'>From him the native and true challenger.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>It was certainly the purpose of Constance
+to condemn the rash shedding
+of blood as something worse than indiscreet—as
+criminal and unjust—and
+this she did by employing the term
+“indirectly” in the Shakespearean
+sense of that word.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In this same Act, <i>Scene 2</i>, a new
+reading—also approved of by Mr Singer,
+and pronounced “unquestionably
+right” by Mr Collier—is proposed in
+the lines where the citizen says—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“That daughter there of Spain, the Lady Blanch</div>
+      <div class='line'>Is <i>near</i> to England.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>For “near” the MS. correction is
+<i>niece</i>. But the Lady Blanch is repeatedly,
+throughout the play, spoken
+of as niece to King John and the
+Queen-mother. Therefore, if for no
+other reason than that of varying the
+expression, we must give our suffrage
+most decidedly in favour of the original
+reading. “<i>Near</i> to England”
+of course means nearly related to England;
+and it seems much more natural,
+as well as more poetical, that the
+citizen should speak in this general
+way of Lady Blanch, than that he
+should condescend on her particular
+degree of relationship, and style her
+the “niece to England.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At the end of this Act, in the soliloquy
+of Faulconbridge, a very strange
+perversion on the part of the MS. corrector
+comes before us. Faulconbridge
+is railing against what he calls “commodity”—that
+is, the morality of self-interest.
+He then goes on to represent
+himself as no better than his neighbours,
+in these words—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“And why rail I on this commodity?</div>
+      <div class='line'>But for because he hath not woo’d me yet;</div>
+      <div class='line'>Not that I have the power to clutch my hand,</div>
+      <div class='line'>When his fair angels would salute my palm.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The meaning of these lines is certainly
+sufficiently obvious. Yet Mr
+Collier’s corrector is not satisfied with
+them. He reads—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Not that I have <i>no</i> power to clutch my hand,” &#38;c.</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>But unless Mr Collier can prove—what
+will be difficult—that “power”
+here means <i>inclination</i>, it is evident
+that this reading directly reverses
+Shakespeare’s meaning. If “power”
+means <i>inclination</i>, the sense would be
+this—I rail on this commodity, not
+because I have no inclination to clutch
+my hand on the fair angels that would
+salute my palm, but because I have
+not yet been tempted; when temptation
+comes, I shall doubtless yield like
+my neighbours. But power never
+means, and cannot mean inclination;
+and Mr Collier has not attempted to
+show that it does; and therefore the new
+reading must be to this effect—“I rail
+on this commodity, not because I am
+<i>unable</i> to close my hand against a
+bribe,” &#38;c. But Faulconbridge says
+the very reverse. He says—“I rail on
+this commodity, not because I have
+the power to resist temptation, or am
+<i>able</i> to shut my hand against the fair
+angels that would salute my palm; for
+I have no such power: in this respect
+I am just like other people, and am as
+easily bribed as they are.” The new
+reading, therefore, must be dismissed
+as a wanton reversal of the plain
+meaning of Shakespeare.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act III. Scene 3.</i>—We approve of
+the corrector’s change of the word
+“race,” the ordinary reading, into
+<i>ear</i>, in the following line about the
+midnight bell—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Sound one unto the drowsy <i>ear</i> of night.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The old copies read <i>on</i> instead of <i>one</i>,
+which was supplied—rightly, as we
+think—by Warburton. The MS. corrector
+makes no change in regard to
+<i>on</i>.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act III. Scene 4.</i>—The passionate
+vehemence of Constance’s speech is
+much flattened by the corrector’s ill-judged
+interference. Bewailing the
+loss of her son, she says—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“O, that my tongue were in the thunder’s mouth;</div>
+      <div class='line'>Then with a passion would I shake the world:</div>
+      <div class='line'>And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Which cannot hear a lady’s feeble voice,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Which scorns a <i>modern</i> invocation.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>For “modern” the MS. corrector
+would read “widow’s”! And Mr
+Collier, defending the new reading,
+observes that Johnson remarks, “that
+it is hard to say what Shakespeare
+means by <i>modern</i>.” Johnson does
+make this remark. Nevertheless the
+meaning of the word “modern” is
+perfectly plain. It signifies moderate—not
+sufficiently impassioned; and
+we are called upon to give up this
+fine expression for the inanity of a
+“<i>widow’s</i> invocation”! In the same
+lines this reckless tamperer with the
+language of Shakespeare would change</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Then with a passion would I shake the world,”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c015'>into</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Then with <i>what</i> passion would I shake the world.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act IV. Scene 2.</i>—In the following
+lines a difficulty occurs which seems
+insuperable, and which the MS. corrector
+has certainly not explained,
+although Mr Collier says that his
+reading makes “the meaning apparent.”
+King John, in reply to some
+of his lords, who have tried to dissuade
+him from having a double coronation,
+says—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Some reasons of this double coronation</div>
+      <div class='line'>I have possessed you with, and think them strong:</div>
+      <div class='line'>And more, more strong (<i>when lesser is my fear</i>)</div>
+      <div class='line'>I shall endue you with.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>This is the common reading; but
+why the king should give them more
+and stronger reasons for his double
+coronation, when his fears were diminished,
+is not at all apparent. The
+strength of his fears should rather
+have led him at once to state his
+reasons explicitly. The MS. correction
+is—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“And more, more strong, <i>thus lessening</i> my fear,</div>
+      <div class='line'>I shall endue you with.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>But how the <i>communication</i> of his
+stronger reasons should have the
+effect of lessening the king’s fear, is
+a riddle still darker than the other.
+The <i>possession</i> of these reasons might
+lessen the usurper’s fears; but surely
+the mere utterance of them could
+make no difference. If the MS. corrector
+had written, “thus lessening
+<i>your</i> fears,” there would have been
+some sense in the emendation; and, if
+a new reading be required, this is the
+one which we venture to suggest.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act IV. Scene 3.</i>—We confess that
+we prefer the MS. corrector’s line,</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Whose private <i>missive</i> of the Dauphin’s love,”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c015'>to the ordinary reading,</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Whose private <i>with me</i> of the Dauphin’s love.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>But we are not prepared to say that
+the latter is unintelligible, or that it
+is not in accordance with the diplomatic
+phraseology of the time.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The following new reading has
+something to recommend it; but much
+also may be said in defence of the old
+text. Salisbury, indignant with the
+king, says, as the ordinary copies
+give it,</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“The King hath dispossessed himself of us;</div>
+      <div class='line'>We will not line his <i>thin bestained</i> cloak</div>
+      <div class='line'>With our pure honours.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The margins propose “sin-bestained,”
+which is plausible. But there
+is also a propriety in the use of the
+word “thin.” The king’s cloak (that
+is, his authority) was <i>thin</i>, because
+not lined and strengthened with the
+power and honours of his nobles. The
+text ought not to be altered.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>We conclude our <i>obiter dicta</i> on
+this play with the remark, that Pope’s
+change of “hand” into “head,”
+which is also proposed by the MS.
+corrector in the following lines, (<i>Act
+IV. Scene III.</i>) seems to us to be an
+improvement, and entitled to admission
+into the text. Salisbury vows</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Never to taste the pleasures of the world,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Never to be infected with delight,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Nor conversant with ease and idleness,</div>
+      <div class='line'>’Till I have set a glory to this <i>head</i>,</div>
+      <div class='line'>By giving it the worship of revenge,”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>—that is, the head of young Arthur,
+whose dead body had just been discovered
+on the ground.</p>
+
+<p class='c009'><span class='sc'>King Richard II.</span>—<i>Act. II. Scene
+1.</i>—Ritson’s emendation, as pointed
+out by Mr Singer, is unquestionably
+to be preferred to the MS. corrector’s
+in these lines—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“The King is come; deal mildly with his youth,</div>
+      <div class='line'>For young hot colts, being <i>rag’d</i>, do rage the more.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Raged,” the common reading, can
+scarcely be right. Ritson proposed
+“being reined.” The margins suggest
+“being urg’d.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>We differ from the MS. corrector,
+Mr Collier, and Mr Singer, in thinking
+that there is no good reason for
+disturbing the received text in the
+lines where the conspirators, Willoughby,
+Ross, and Northumberland,
+are consulting together; but, on the
+contrary, very good reasons for leaving
+it alone. Willoughby says to his
+brother—conspirator, Northumberland,</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Nay, let us share thy thoughts as thou dost ours.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Ross also presses him to speak:</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Be confident to speak, Northumberland;</div>
+      <div class='line'>We three are but thyself; and speaking so,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Thy words are but <i>as</i> thoughts, therefore be bold.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The change proposed is <i>our</i> for “as.”
+“Thy words are but <i>our</i> thoughts.”
+The difference of meaning in the two
+readings is but slight; but the old
+text seems to us to have the advantage
+in depth and fineness. Ross’s
+argument with Northumberland to
+speak was not merely because his
+words were as <i>their</i> thoughts. That
+was no doubt true; but the point of
+his persuasion lay in the consideration
+that Northumberland’s words would
+be <i>as good as not spoken</i>. “We three
+are but yourself, and, in these circumstances,
+your words are but <i>as</i>
+thoughts—that is, you are as safe in
+uttering them as if you uttered them
+not, inasmuch as you will be merely
+speaking to yourself.” The substitution
+of “our” for “as” seems to bring
+out this meaning less clearly.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act II. Scene 2.</i>—The following
+lines (part of which, for the sake of
+perspicuity, we print within a parenthesis,
+contrary, we believe, to the
+common arrangement) require no
+emendation. The queen, labouring
+under “the involuntary and unaccountable
+depression of mind which,
+says Johnson, every one has some
+time felt,” remarks—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in12'>“Howe’er it be,</div>
+      <div class='line'>I cannot but be sad; so heavy sad,</div>
+      <div class='line'>As (though, in thinking, on no thought I think)</div>
+      <div class='line'>Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The MS. corrector reads “unthinking”
+for “in thinking;” but this is by
+no means necessary. The old text is
+quite as good, indeed rather better
+than the new.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Scene 3.</i>—Much dissatisfaction has
+been expressed with the word <i>despised</i>
+in the lines in which York severely
+rates his traitorous nephew Bolingbroke:</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Why have those banish’d and forbidden legs</div>
+      <div class='line'>Dared once to touch a dust of English ground?</div>
+      <div class='line'>But more than why,—why have they dared to march</div>
+      <div class='line'>So many miles upon her peaceful bosom,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Frighting her pale-faced villages with war,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And ostentation of <i>despised</i> arms?”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>“But sure,” says Warburton, “the
+ostentation of despised arms would
+not <i>fright</i> any one. We should read
+‘disposed arms’—<i>i.e.</i>, forces in battle
+array.” “Despoiling arms” is the
+reading recommended by the margins.
+“Displayed arms” is the right expression,
+according to Mr Singer. But
+surely no emendation is required. The
+ostentation of despised arms was quite
+sufficient to frighten the harmless villagers;
+and this is all that Shakespeare
+says it did. And then it is in the
+highest degree appropriate and consistent
+that York should give his
+nephew to understand that his arms
+or forces were utterly despicable in the
+estimation of all loyal subjects, of all
+honourable and right-thinking men.
+Hence his words,</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Frighting her <i>pale-faced</i> villages with war,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And <i>ostentation</i> of <i>despised</i> arms,”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c015'>mean—alarming with war only pale-faced
+villagers, who never smelt the
+sulphurous breeze of battle, and making
+a vain parade of arms which all
+true soldiers must despise.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act III. Scene 3.</i>—The substitution
+of <i>storm</i> for “harm,” in the following
+lines, is an exceedingly doubtful emendation.
+York says of Richard—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Yet looks he like a king; behold, his eye,</div>
+      <div class='line'>As bright as is the eagle’s, lightens forth</div>
+      <div class='line'>Controlling majesty. Alack, alack for woe,</div>
+      <div class='line'>That any <i>harm</i> should stain so fair a show!”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is true that, in a previous part of
+the speech, the king is likened to the
+setting sun, whose glory “the envious
+clouds are bent to dim;” and therefore
+the word <i>storm</i> has some show of reason
+to recommend it, and “harm”
+may possibly have been a misprint.
+But we rather think that it is the
+right word, and that it is more natural
+and pathetic than the word <i>storm</i>.
+Nothing else worthy of note or comment
+presents itself in the MS. corrections
+of King Richard II.</p>
+
+<p class='c009'><span class='sc'>The First Part of King Henry
+IV.</span>—<i>Act I. Scene 1.</i>—“No new
+light,” says Mr Collier, “is thrown
+upon the two lines which have produced
+so many conjectures:</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>‘No more the thirsty entrance of this soil</div>
+      <div class='line'>Shall daub her lips with her own children’s blood.’”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The MS. corrector has in this instance
+shown his sense by not meddling with
+these lines; for how any light beyond
+their own inherent lustre should ever
+have been thought necessary to render
+them luminous, it is not easy to
+understand. As a specimen of the way
+in which the old commentators occasionally
+darkened the very simplest
+matters, their treatment of these two
+lines may be adduced. The old quartos,
+and the folio 1623, supply the
+text as given above. By an error of
+the press, the folio 1632 reads <i>damb</i>
+instead of <i>daub</i>. This <i>damb</i> the earlier
+commentators converted into <i>damp</i>.
+Warburton changed “damp” into
+trempe—<i>i.e.</i>, moisten. Dr Johnson,
+although very properly dissatisfied
+with this Frenchified reading, is as
+much at fault as the bishop. With
+the authentic text of the older editions
+before him, he says, “the old reading
+helps the editor no better than the
+new” (in other words, <i>daub</i> is no better
+than damb, and damp, and trempe);
+“nor can I satisfactorily reform the
+passage. I think that ‘thirsty entrance’
+<i>must be</i> wrong, yet know not
+what to offer. We may read, but not
+very elegantly—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>‘No more the thirsty <i>entrails</i> of this soil</div>
+      <div class='line'>Shall <i>daubed be</i> with her own children’s blood.’”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Truly this reading is by no means elegant;
+it is nothing less than monstrous.
+To say nothing of the physical
+impossibility of the blood penetrating
+to the “entrails” of the earth, the
+expression violates the first principles
+of poetical word-painting. The interior
+parts of the earth are not seen,
+and therefore to talk of them as daubed
+with blood, is to attempt to place before
+the eye of the mind a picture
+which cannot be placed before it. In
+science, or as a matter of fact, this
+may be admissible; but in poetry,
+where the imagination is addressed, it
+is simply an absurdity. Steevens,
+with some hesitation, proposes—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“No more the thirsty <i>entrants</i> of this soil</div>
+      <div class='line'>Shall daub her lips with her own children’s blood.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Entrants,” that is, “invaders.”
+“This,” says Steevens, “may be
+thought very far-fetched.” It is
+worse than far-fetched—it is ludicrously
+despicable. Conceive Shakespeare
+saying that “a parcel of <i>drouthy</i>
+Frenchmen shall no more daub the
+lips of England with the blood of her
+own children”! What renders this
+reading all the more inexcusable is,
+that Steevens perceived what the true
+and obvious meaning was, although
+he had not the steadiness to stand to
+it. He adds—“or Shakespeare <i>may</i>
+mean the <i>thirsty entrance</i> of the soil
+for the <i>porous surface</i> of the earth
+through which all moisture enters,
+and is thirstily drunk or soaked up.”
+Shakespeare’s words cannot by any
+possibility mean anything except this.
+“Porous surface,” as must be obvious to
+all mankind, is the exact literal prose
+of the more poetical phrase, “thirsty
+entrance.” Yet obvious as this interpretation
+is, Malone remained blind
+to it, even after Steevens had pointed
+it out. He prefers Steevens’ first
+emendation. He says, “Mr Steevens’
+conjecture (that is, his suggestion of
+<i>entrants</i> for <i>entrance</i>) is so likely to be
+true, that I have no doubt about the propriety
+of admitting it into the text.”
+In spite, however, of these vagaries,
+we believe that the right reading, as
+given above, has kept its place in
+the ordinary editions of Shakespeare.
+This instance may show that our MS.
+corrector is not the only person whose
+wits have gone a-woolgathering when
+attempting to mend the language of
+Shakespeare.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Before returning to Mr Collier’s
+corrector, we wish to make another
+digression, in order to propose a new
+reading—one, at least, which is new
+to ourselves, and not to be found in
+the <i>variorum</i> edition 1785. The king
+says, in reference to the rising in the
+north, which has been triumphantly
+put down—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Ten thousand bold Scots,—two-and-twenty knights,</div>
+      <div class='line'><i>Balked</i> in their own blood, did Sir Walter see</div>
+      <div class='line'>On Holmedon’s plains.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>For “balked” Steevens conjectured
+either “bathed” or “baked.” Warton
+says that <i>balk</i> is a ridge, and that
+therefore “balked in their own blood”
+means “piled up in a ridge, and in their
+own blood.” Tollet says, “‘balked
+in their own blood,’ I believe, means,
+lay in heaps or hillocks in their own
+blood.” We propose—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Ten thousand bold Scots,—two-and-twenty knights,</div>
+      <div class='line'><i>Bark’d</i> in their own blood, did Sir Walter see</div>
+      <div class='line'>On Holmedon’s plains.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Barked,” that is, coated with dry
+and hardened blood, as a tree is coated
+with bark. This is picturesque. To
+<i>bark</i> or <i>barken</i> is undoubtedly an old
+English word; and in Scotland, even
+at this day, it is not uncommon to
+hear the country people talk of blood
+<i>barkening</i>, that is, hardening, upon a
+wound.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act I. Scene 3.</i>—The following lines
+present a difficulty which the commentators—and
+among them our anonymous
+scholiast—have not been very
+successful in clearing up. The king,
+speaking in reference to the revolted
+Mortimer and his accomplices, says—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Shall we buy treason, and indent <i>with fears</i>,</div>
+      <div class='line'>When they have lost and forfeited themselves?</div>
+      <div class='line'>No, on the barren mountains let him starve.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>There is no difficulty in regard to the
+word “indent;” it means, to enter
+into a compact—to descend, as Johnson
+says, to a composition. But what
+is the meaning of “to indent, or enter
+into a compact, <i>with fears</i>”? Johnson
+suggests “with peers”—that is,
+with the noblemen who have lost and
+forfeited themselves. But this is a
+very unsatisfactory and improbable
+reading. The MS. corrector proposes
+“with foes;” and Mr Collier remarks,
+“It seems strange that, in the course
+of two hundred and fifty years, nobody
+should ever have even guessed at <i>foes</i>
+for <i>fears</i>.” It is much more strange
+that Mr Collier should be ignorant
+that “foes” is the reading of the Oxford
+editor, Sir Thomas Hanmer—a
+reading which was long ago condemned.
+Mr Singer adheres rightly to the
+received text; but he is wrong in his
+explanation of the word “fears.” He
+says that it means “objects of fear.”
+But surely the king can never have
+regarded Mortimer and his associates
+as objects of fear. He had a spirit
+above that. He had no dread of them.
+Steevens is very nearly right when he
+says that the word “fears” here means
+<i>terrors</i>: he would have been quite
+right had he said that it signifies
+<i>cowardice</i>, or rather, by a poetical
+licence, “cowards”—(<i>fearers</i>, if there
+were such a word.) The meaning is,
+shall we buy treason, and enter into a
+composition with cowardice, when
+they (the traitors and cowards) have
+lost and forfeited themselves? Treason
+and cowardice are undoubtedly the
+two offences which the king intends to
+brand with his indignation. “Foes”
+is quite inadmissible.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In <i>Act II. Scene 1</i>—Gadshill, talking
+in a lofty vein of his high acquaintances,
+says, “I am joined with no
+foot land-rakers, no long-staff, six-penny
+strikers; none of these mad,
+mustachio, purple-hued maltworms;
+but with nobility and <i>tranquillity</i>;
+burgomasters and great <i>oneyers</i>; such
+as can hold in; such as can strike
+sooner than speak,” &#38;c. The change
+of “tranquillity” into <i>sanguinity</i>, as
+proposed by the MS. corrector, we
+dismiss at once as unworthy of any
+consideration. “Oneyers” is the only
+word about which there is any difficulty;
+and it has puzzled the bigwigs.
+Theobald reads “moneyers”—that
+is, officers of the mint—bankers.
+Sir T. Hanmer reads “great owners.”
+Malone reads “onyers,” which, he
+says, means public accountants. “To
+settle accounts is still called at the
+exchequer <i>to ony</i>, and hence Shakespeare
+seems to have formed the word
+<i>onyers</i>.” Johnson has hit upon the
+right explanation, although he advances
+it with considerable hesitation.
+“I know not,” says he, “whether
+any change is necessary; Gadshill
+tells the chamberlain that he is joined
+with no mean wretches, but with burgomasters
+and great ones, or, as he
+terms them in merriment, by a cant
+termination, great oneyers, or, great
+one-eers—as we say privateer, auctioneer,
+circuiteer. This is, I fancy,
+the whole of the matter.” That this
+is the true explanation, or very near
+it, and that no change in the text is
+necessary, is proved beyond a doubt
+by the following extract from the
+writings of one whose genius, while it
+elevates the noblest subjects, can also
+illustrate the most small. “Do they
+often go where glory waits them, and
+leave you here?” says Mr Swiveller,
+alluding to Brass and his charming
+sister, in Dickens’ <cite>Old Curiosity
+Shop</cite>. “‘O, yes, I believe they do,’
+returned the marchioness, <i>alias</i> the
+small servant; ‘Miss Sally’s such a
+<i>one-er</i> for that.’ ‘Such a what?’
+said Dick, as much puzzled as a
+Shakespearean commentator. ‘Such
+a one-er,’ returned the marchioness.
+After a moment’s reflection, Mr Swiveller
+determined to forego his responsible
+duty of setting her right—[why
+should he have wished to set her
+right? she <i>was</i> right; she was speaking
+the language and illustrating the
+meaning of Shakespeare]—and to suffer
+her to talk on; as it was evident that
+her tongue was loosened by the purl,
+and her opportunities for conversation
+were not so frequent as to render a
+momentary check of little consequence.
+‘They sometimes go to see
+Mr Quilp,’ said the small servant,
+with a shrewd look: ‘they go to a
+many places, bless you.’ ‘Is <i>Mr</i>
+Brass a <i>wunner</i>?’ said Dick. ‘Not
+half what Miss Sally is, he isn’t,’ replied
+the small servant.” Here is
+the very word we want. Shakespeare’s
+“oneyer” is Dickens’ <i>one-er</i>
+or <i>wunner</i>—that is, a one <i>par excellence</i>,
+a one with an emphasis—a top-sawyer—and
+the difficulty is resolved.
+Set a thief to catch a thief; and leave
+one great intellectual luminary to
+throw light upon another. After Mr
+Dickens’ lucid commentary, “oneyer”
+becomes quite a household word, and
+we suspect that the MS. corrector’s
+emendation will scarcely go down. He
+reads, “burgomasters and great <i>ones</i>,—<i>yes</i>
+such as can hold in.” “This will
+never do,” to quote a favourite aphorism,
+and literary canon of the late Lord
+Jeffrey, when speaking of the Lake
+School of poetry.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act II. Scene 4.</i>—The complacency
+with which Mr Collier sets the authority
+of his MS. corrector above that
+of the other commentators on Shakespeare,
+is one of the most curious features
+in his literary character. The
+following is an instance of his marginolatry.
+“Rowe,” says Mr Collier,
+“<i>seems</i> to have been right (indeed,
+the emendation hardly admits of
+doubt) in reading <i>tristful</i> for ‘trustful’
+in Falstaff’s speech, as we learn
+from the alteration introduced in the
+folio 1632. ‘For Heaven’s sake, lords,
+convey my <i>tristful</i> queen.’” As if
+the authority of Rowe, or of any other
+person, was not, to say the least of it,
+just as good as that of the anonymous
+corrector, who, by the blunders into
+which he has fallen, has proved himself
+signally disqualified for the task
+of rectifying Shakespeare where his
+text may happen to be corrupted.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act III. Scene 1.</i>—Now and then,
+however, as we have all along admitted,
+the old corrector makes a
+good hit. A very excellent emendation,
+about the best which he has proposed,
+occurs in the scene where Mortimer
+says—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The lady then speaks to him in Welsh,
+being at the same time in tears;
+whereupon her husband says—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“I understood thy looks, <i>that</i> pretty Welsh</div>
+      <div class='line'>Which thou pourest down from the swelling heavens.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>“The swelling heavens”—her eyes
+might no doubt be swollen; but that
+is not a pretty picture. The correction,
+which is a manifest improvement,
+and worthy of a place in the text, is
+“from these welling heavens.” This
+correction is taken from Mr Collier’s
+appendix, or “notes,” where it might
+be easily overlooked.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act V. Scene 1.</i>—The MS. corrector
+is very fond of eking out imperfect
+lines with conjectural interpolations,
+and of curtailing others which present
+a superfluity of syllables. This is a
+practice which cannot be permitted
+even in cases where the alteration improves
+the verses, as sometimes happens;
+much less can it be tolerated
+in cases, which are still more frequent,
+where the verses are manifestly enfeebled
+by the change. A conspicuous
+instance of the latter occurs in these
+lines. The rebellious Worcester says
+to the king,</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in20'>——“I do protest</div>
+      <div class='line'>I have not sought the day of this dislike.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'><i>K. Henry.</i>—You have not sought it—How comes it then?”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Here the words, “How comes it
+then?” are vehement and abrupt, and
+the verse is purposely defective. Its
+impetuosity is destroyed by the corrector’s
+stilted and unnatural interpolation—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“You have not sought it—<i>say</i>, how comes it then?”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>That word <i>say</i> takes off the sharp edge
+of the king’s wrathful interrogative,
+and converts him from a flesh and
+blood monarch into a mouthing ranter,
+a mere tragedy-king.</p>
+
+<p class='c009'><span class='sc'>The Second Part of Henry IV.</span>—<i>Act
+I. Scene 2.</i>—We agree with Mr
+Collier and Mr Singer that the substitution
+of <i>diseases</i> for “degrees” in
+Falstaff’s speech is a good and legitimate
+emendation, and we willingly
+place it to the credit of the MS. corrector.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act I. Scene 3.</i>—The MS. corrector
+attempts to amend the following passage
+in several places—not very successfully,
+as we shall endeavour to
+show. The rebellious lords are talking
+about their prospects and resources.
+Bardolph counsels delay, and warns his
+friends against being over-sanguine.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“<i>Hastings.</i>—But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt,</div>
+      <div class='line'>To lay down likelihoods, and forms of hope.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'><i>Bardolph.</i>—Yes, in this present quality of war;</div>
+      <div class='line'>Indeed, of instant action. A cause on foot</div>
+      <div class='line'>Lives so in hope, as in an early spring</div>
+      <div class='line'>We see the appearing buds; which, to prove fruit,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Hope gives not so much warrant, as despair,</div>
+      <div class='line'>That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build,</div>
+      <div class='line'>We first survey the plot, then draw the model;</div>
+      <div class='line'>And when we see the figure of the house,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Then must we rate the cost of the erection;</div>
+      <div class='line'>Which, if we find outweighs ability,</div>
+      <div class='line'>What do we then, but draw anew the model</div>
+      <div class='line'>In fewer offices; or, at least, desist</div>
+      <div class='line'>To build at all? Much more in this great work</div>
+      <div class='line'>(Which is, almost, to pluck a kingdom down</div>
+      <div class='line'>And set another up), should we survey</div>
+      <div class='line'>The plot of situation and the model;</div>
+      <div class='line'>Consent upon a sure foundation;</div>
+      <div class='line'>Question surveyors; know our own estate,</div>
+      <div class='line'>How able such a work to undergo,</div>
+      <div class='line'><i>To weigh against his opposite</i>; or else</div>
+      <div class='line'>We fortify in paper and in figures,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Using the names of men, instead of men.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>In this speech of Bardolph’s we shall
+confine our attention to the two main
+points on which the corrector has tried
+his hand. These are the two first
+lines, and the verse printed in italics.
+The two first lines are somewhat obscure;
+but we are of opinion that a
+much better sense may be obtained
+from them than is afforded by the
+corrector’s emendation, which we shall
+presently advert to. “Hope,” says
+Hastings, “never yet did harm.”
+“Yes,” says Bardolph, “in a state
+of affairs like the present, where action
+seems imminent, it <i>has</i> done harm
+to entertain (unfounded) hopes.” He
+then proceeds to press on his friends,
+as their only chance of safety, the
+necessity of making the war <i>not</i> imminent—of
+postponing it until they have
+pondered well their resources, and received
+farther supplies. All this is
+intelligible enough, and may be elicited
+with perfect ease from the ordinary
+text which was adjusted by Dr Johnson—the
+original reading of the two
+lines in question being obviously disfigured
+by typographical errors. There
+is therefore no call whatever for the
+MS. corrector’s amendment, which
+seems to us infinitely more obscure
+and perplexing than the received reading.
+He writes—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Yes, in this present quality of war;</div>
+      <div class='line'>Indeed the instant <i>act and</i> cause on foot</div>
+      <div class='line'>Lives so in hope,” &#38;c.</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mr Collier says that this emendation
+“clears the sense” of the passage.
+We should have thanked him had he
+shown us how; for, if the old reading
+be obscure, the only merit of the new
+one seems to be that it lends an additional
+gloom to darkness. In regard
+to the other point—the line printed in
+italics—the MS. corrector breaks the
+back of the difficulty by means of the
+following interpolated forgery—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“<i>A careful leader sums what force he brings</i></div>
+      <div class='line'>To weigh against his opposite.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>This, and the other similar delinquencies
+of which the MS. corrector is frequently
+guilty, are neither more nor less
+than swindling—and swindling, too,
+without an object. Nothing is gained
+by the rascality; for the sense of the
+passage may be opened without resorting
+to the use of such a clumsy
+crowbar, such a burglarious implement
+as</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“A careful leader sums what force he brings.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>It means, before we engage in any
+great and perilous undertaking, we
+should know how able we are to undergo
+such a work—how able we are
+to weigh against the opposite of such
+a work; that is, to contend successfully
+against the forces of the enemy. Mr
+Singer says that, if any change is necessary,
+we should read “<i>this</i> opposite,”
+instead of “<i>his</i> opposite.” With
+submission we beg to say, that, if any
+change is necessary, “its” and not
+“this” is the word which must be
+substituted for “his.” But no change
+is necessary; “his opposite” means
+the work’s opposite; and it is no unfrequent
+idiom with Shakespeare to
+use “his” for “its.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act II. Scene 1.</i>—Hostess Quickly
+says, according to the old copies—</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“A hundred marks is a long <i>one</i> for a poor
+lone woman to bear.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“One” being obviously a misprint,
+Theobald substituted “loan;” and this
+is the usual reading. The MS. corrector
+proposes “score;” and this, we
+think, ought to go into the text. But
+it will be long before the MS. corrector,
+by means of such small instalments,
+clears <i>his</i> “score” with the
+ghost of Shakespeare. As a help,
+however, towards that consummation,
+we are rather inclined to place to his
+credit the substitution of <i>high</i> for <i>the</i>
+in the line—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Under <i>the</i> canopies of costly state.”</div>
+      <div class='line in24'>—<i>Act III. Scene 1.</i></div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Perhaps, also, he ought to get credit
+for “shrouds” instead of “clouds”—although
+the former is now no novelty,
+having been started long ago by some
+of the early commentators. The original
+reading is “clouds;” but the epithet
+“slippery” renders it highly
+probable that this is a misprint for
+<i>shrouds</i>—that is, the ship’s upper
+tackling; and that “slippery shrouds”
+is the genuine reading. It seems probable
+also that <i>rags</i>, the MS. correction,
+and not <i>rage</i>, the ordinary reading,
+is the right word in the lines where
+rebellion is spoken of (<i>Act IV. Scene
+1</i>) as</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Led on by bloody youth, guarded with <i>rags</i>,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And countenanced by boys and beggary.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The MS. corrector seems to be retrieving
+his character. We are also
+willing to accept at his hands “seal”
+instead of “zeal” in the line—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Under the counterfeited <i>seal</i> of heaven.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>We cannot, however, admit that
+there is any ground for emendation in
+the following passage (<i>Act IV. Scene
+1</i>) where the king is spoken of, and
+where it is said that he will find much
+difficulty in punishing his enemies
+without compromising his friends:—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“His foes are so enrooted with his friends,</div>
+      <div class='line'>That, plucking to unfix an enemy,</div>
+      <div class='line'>He doth unfasten so, and shake a friend,</div>
+      <div class='line'>So that this land, like an offensive wife,</div>
+      <div class='line'>That hath enraged <i>him on</i> to offer strokes;</div>
+      <div class='line'>As he is striking, holds his infant up,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And hangs resolved correction in the arm</div>
+      <div class='line'>That was uprear’d to execution.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The question is, who is the “him”
+referred to in the fifth of these lines?
+It can be no other than the king. <i>He</i>,
+the husband, being excited to chastise
+his wife—that is, the rebellious country—<i>she</i>,
+as he is striking, holds his
+infant (that is, certain of his friends)
+up, and thus stays his arm, and suspends
+the execution of his vengeance.
+The MS. corrector substitutes “her
+man” for the words “him on.” Mr
+Collier approves, and even Mr Singer
+says that this “is a very plausible
+correction, and is evidently called for.”
+If these gentlemen will reconsider the
+passage, they will find that it cannot
+be construed with the new reading,
+unless several additional words are
+inserted; thus, “So that this land
+(is), like an offensive wife who hath
+enraged <i>her man</i> to offer strokes, (and
+who) as he is striking, holds his infant
+up, and hangs resolved correction in
+the arm that was upreared to execution.”
+This is as intelligible as the
+ordinary text, though not more so;
+but the introduction of so many new
+words—which are absolutely necessary
+to complete the grammar and the
+sense—is quite inadmissible; and
+therefore the MS. correction must be
+abandoned.</p>
+
+<p class='c009'><span class='sc'>King Henry V.</span>—In this play
+none of the MS. corrector’s emendations
+are entitled to go into the text.
+First, we shall call attention for a
+moment to a very small correction of
+our own, which perhaps may have
+been made in some of the editions,
+but not in that which we use, the
+<i>variorum</i> of 1785. In <i>Act I. Scene 2</i>,
+the Bishop of Ely says—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“For government, <i>though</i> high, and low, and lower,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Put into parts, doth keep in one consent</div>
+      <div class='line'>Congruing to a full and natural close</div>
+      <div class='line'>Like music.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Surely “though” ought to be <i>through</i>.
+“For government, put into parts, like
+a piece of music, doth keep in one consent
+or harmony, <i>through</i> high, and
+low, and lower,” &#38;c. In the same
+Act, same scene, an emendation is
+proposed by the MS. corrector, which,
+though specious, we cannot bring ourselves
+to endorse. King Henry, in
+reply to the dauphin’s taunting message,
+says—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“But tell the Dauphin, I will keep my state,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Be like a king, and show my <i>sail</i> of greatness,</div>
+      <div class='line'>When I do rouse me in my throne of France.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The corrector proposes <i>soul</i> for “sail.”
+But Shakespeare’s is a grand expression—“I
+will show my sail <i>of greatness</i>,”—will
+set <i>all</i> my canvass—will
+shine,</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Like a proud ship with all her bravery on.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is a pity that he did not write <i>hoist</i>
+or <i>spread</i>, which would have removed
+all doubt as to the word “sail.”
+“Show,” however, is, on some accounts,
+better than <i>hoist</i> or <i>spread</i>.
+Neither do we perceive any necessity
+for adopting the MS. correction “<i>seasonable</i>
+swiftness” instead of “reasonable
+swiftness.” Nor is it by any
+means necessary to change “now
+<i>thrive</i> the armourers” into “now
+<i>strive</i> the armourers:” In <i>Act II.
+Scene 2</i>, the king says, in reference to
+a drunkard who had railed on him—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“It was excess of wine that set him on,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And on <i>his</i> more advice, we pardon him.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The margins read, “on <i>our</i> more
+advice,” overturning the authentic
+language of Shakespeare, who by the
+words “on <i>his</i> more advice,” means
+on his having returned to a more reasonable
+state of mind, and shown
+some sorrow for his offence.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act II. Scene 3.</i>—We now come to
+one of the most memorable corrections—we
+might say to <i>the</i> most memorable
+correction ever made on the
+text of our great dramatist. In Dame
+Quickly’s description of the death of
+Falstaff she says, as the old copies
+give it, “for after I saw him fumble
+with the sheets, and play with flowers,
+and smile upon his fingers’ ends, I
+knew there was but one way; for his
+nose was as sharp as a pen, and <i>a
+table of green fields</i>.” There is evidently
+something very wrong here.
+Theobald gave out as a new reading,
+“and a’ (he) babbled of green fields,”
+the history and character of which
+emendation he explained as follows:
+“I have an edition of Shakespeare
+by me with some marginal conjectures
+by a gentleman some time deceased,
+and he is of the mind to correct this
+passage thus: ‘for his nose was as
+sharp as a pen, and a’ <i>talked</i> of green
+fields.’ It is certainly observable of
+people near death, when they are delirious
+by a fever, that they talk of
+moving, as it is of those in a calenture
+that their heads run on <i>green fields</i>.
+The variation from <i>table</i> to <i>talked</i> is
+not of very great latitude; though we
+may come still nearer to the traces of
+the letters by restoring it thus—‘for
+his nose was as sharp as a pen, and
+a’ <i>babbled</i> of green fields.’”—(<i>Vide</i>
+Singer’s <cite>Shakespeare Vindicated</cite>, p.
+127.)</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This, then, is now the received
+reading; and there can be no doubt
+that it is highly ingenious—indeed,
+singularly felicitous. But the MS.
+corrector’s emendation is also entitled
+to a hearing. He reads: “for his nose
+was as sharp as a pen <i>on a table of
+green frieze</i>.” This, it must be admitted,
+is a lamentable falling off, in
+point of sentiment, from the other
+conjectural amendment. We sympathise
+most feelingly with the distress
+of those who protest vehemently
+against the new reading, and who
+cling almost with tears to the text to
+which they have been accustomed.
+We admit that his babbling of green
+fields is a touch of poetry, if not of
+nature, which fills up the measure of
+our love for Falstaff, and affords the
+finest atonement that can be imagined
+for the mixed career—which is
+now drawing to a close—of the hoary
+debauchee. It is with the utmost reluctance
+that we throw a shade of
+suspicion over Theobald’s delightful
+emendation. Nevertheless, we are
+possessed with the persuasion that
+the MS. corrector’s variation is more
+likely to have been what Dame Quickly
+uttered, and what Shakespeare wrote.
+Our reasons are—<i>first</i>, the calenture,
+which causes people to rave about
+green fields, is a distemper peculiar
+to <i>sailors</i> in hot climates; <i>secondly</i>,
+Falstaff’s mind seems to have been
+running more on sack than on green
+fields, as Dame Quickly admits further
+on in the dialogue; <i>thirdly</i>, however
+pleasing the supposition about
+his babbling of green fields may be,
+it is still more natural that Dame
+Quickly, whose attention was fixed
+on the sharpness of his nose set off
+against a countenance already darkening
+with the discoloration of death,
+should have likened it to the sharpness
+of a pen relieved against a table,
+or background, of green frieze. These
+reasons may be very insufficient: we
+are not quite satisfied with them ourselves.
+But, be they good or bad,
+we cannot divest ourselves of the impression
+(as we most willingly would)
+that the marginal correction, in this
+instance, comes nearer to the genuine
+language of Shakespeare than does
+the ordinary text.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Should, then, the MS. corrector’s
+emendation be admitted into the text
+of the poet? That is a very different
+question; and we answer decidedly—No.
+Its claim is not so absolutely undoubted
+as to entitle it to this elevation.
+It is more probable, we think,
+than Theobald’s. But Theobald’s has
+by this time acquired a prescriptive
+right to the place which it enjoys.
+Although originally it may have been
+a usurpation, it is now strong with
+inveterate occupancy: it is consecrated
+to the hearts of all mankind,
+and it ought on no account to be displaced.
+It is part and parcel of our
+earliest associations with Falstaff, and
+its removal would do violence to the
+feelings of universal Christendom.
+This consideration, which shows how
+difficult, indeed how injudicious, it is
+to eradicate anything which has once
+fairly taken root in the text of Shakespeare,
+ought to make us all the more
+scrupulous in guarding his writings
+against such innovations as the MS.
+corrector usually proposes; for, however
+little these may have to recommend
+them, succeeding generations
+may become habituated to their presence,
+and, on the plea of prescription,
+may be indisposed to give them up.</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“<i>Principiis obsta, sero medicina paratur.</i>”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act III., chorus.</i></p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in8'>“Behold the threaden sails,</div>
+      <div class='line'><i>Borne</i> with the invisible and creeping wind,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Draw the huge bottoms through the furrowed sea.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Borne” is here a far finer and more
+expressive word than “blown,” the
+MS. corrector’s prosaic substitution.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act IV. Scene 1.</i>—In the fine lines
+on ceremony, the MS. corrector proposes
+a new reading, which at first
+sight looks specious, but which a moderate
+degree of reflection compels us
+to reject. The common text is as
+follows:—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“And what art thou, thou idol ceremony?</div>
+      <div class='line'>What kind of god art thou, that sufferest more</div>
+      <div class='line'>Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers?</div>
+      <div class='line'>What are thy rents?—what are thy comings in?</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>O ceremony, show me but thy worth!</div>
+      <div class='line'>What is thy soul, O, adoration?</div>
+      <div class='line'>Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Creating awe and fear in other men?</div>
+      <div class='line'>Wherein thou art less happy, being feared,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Than they in fearing.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The MS. corrector gives us—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“O, ceremony, show me but thy worth!</div>
+      <div class='line'>What is thy soul <i>but adulation</i>?”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The objection to this reading is that
+Shakespeare’s lines are equivalent to—O,
+ceremony, thou hast <i>no</i> worth;
+O, adoration, thou hast <i>no</i> soul—absolutely
+none. This reading, which
+denies to ceremony and adoration <i>all</i>
+soul and substance—<i>all</i> worth and
+reality—is more emphatic than the
+corrector’s, which declares that adulation
+is the soul of ceremony; and
+we therefore vote for allowing the
+text to remain as we found it.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act IV. Scene 3.</i>—In the following
+lines Shakespeare pays a compliment—not
+of the most elegant kind we admit—to
+the English, whose valour, he
+says, is such that even their dead
+bodies putrefying in the fields of
+France will carry death into the ranks
+of the enemy.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Mark, then, abounding valour in the English;</div>
+      <div class='line'>That being dead, like to a bullet’s grazing,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Break out into a second course of mischief,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Killing in relapse of mortality.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The similitude of “the bullet’s grazing”
+has led the MS. corrector into
+two execrable errors. By way of
+carrying out the metaphor, he proposes
+to read “<i>re</i>bounding valour,”
+and “killing in <i>reflex</i> of mortality.”
+But Shakespeare knew full well what
+he was about. He has kept his similitude
+within becoming bounds, while
+the corrector has driven it over the
+verge of all propriety. Both of his
+corrections are wretched, and the latter
+of them is outrageous. We are
+surprised that he did not propose
+“killing in reflex <i>off</i> mortality,” for
+this would bring out his meaning
+much better than the expression which
+he has suggested. But we may rest
+assured that “killing in relapse of
+mortality” merely means, killing in
+their return to the dust from whence
+they were taken; and that this is the
+right reading.</p>
+
+<p class='c009'><span class='sc'>The First Part of King Henry
+VI.</span>—A difficulty occurs in the last
+line of <i>Act II. Scene 5</i>, where Plantagenet
+says—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“And therefore haste I to the Parliament,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Either to be restored to my blood,</div>
+      <div class='line'><i>Or make my ill the advantage of my good</i>.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>This is the common reading, and it
+means, “or make my ill the <i>occasion</i>
+of my good.” The earlier copies have
+“will” for “ill,” The MS. correction
+is—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Or make my will <i>th’ advancer</i> of my good.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>But this is no improvement upon the
+common reading, which ought to remain
+unaltered.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act IV. Scene 1.</i>—A small but
+very significant instance, illustrative
+of what we are convinced is the true
+theory of these new readings, namely,
+that they are attempts, not to <i>restore</i>,
+but to <i>modernise</i> Shakespeare, comes
+before us in the following lines, where
+the knights of the garter are spoken
+of as</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Not fearing death, nor shrinking from distress,</div>
+      <div class='line'>But always resolute in <i>most extremes</i>.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Most extremes” does not mean (as
+one ignorant of Shakespeare’s language
+might be apt to suppose) “in
+the greater number of extremes:” it
+means, in <i>extremest</i> cases, or dangers.
+The same idiom occurs in the “Tempest,”
+where it is said—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in10'>“Some kinds of baseness</div>
+      <div class='line'>Are nobly undergone, and <i>most poor</i> matters</div>
+      <div class='line'>Point to rich ends;”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c015'>which certainly does not mean that the
+greater number of poor matters point to
+rich ends, but that the poorest matters
+often do so. It would be well if the two
+words were always printed as one—most extremes,
+and most poor. Now,
+surely Mr Collier either cannot know
+that this phraseology is peculiarly
+Shakespearean, or he must be desirous
+of blotting out from the English language
+our great poet’s favourite forms
+of speech, when he says, “there is an
+injurious error of the printer in the
+second line;” and when he recommends
+us to accept the MS. marginal
+correction, by which Shakespeare’s
+archaism is exchanged for this <i>modernism</i>—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“But always resolute in <i>worst</i> extremes.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act V. Scene 1.</i>—How much more
+forcible are Shakespeare’s lines—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“See where he lies inhersed in the arms</div>
+      <div class='line'>Of the <i>most bloody</i> nurser of his harms,”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c015'>than the MS. substitution—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Of the <i>still bleeding</i> nurser of his harms.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Scene 4.</i>—Four competing readings
+of the following lines present themselves
+for adjudication—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Ay, beauty’s princely majesty is such,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Confounds the tongue, and makes the senses <i>rough</i>.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>This is the text of the earlier editions,
+and it evidently requires amendment.
+Sir T. Hanmer reads—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Ay, beauty’s princely majesty is such,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Confounds the tongue, and makes the senses <i>crouch</i>.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Our MS. corrector proposes—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Ay, beauty’s princely majesty is such,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Confounds the tongue, and <i>mocks the sense of touch</i>.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mr Singer, who also, it seems, has a
+folio with MS. corrections, gives us,
+as a gleaning from its margins,</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Ay, beauty’s princely majesty is such,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Confounds the tongue, and <i>wakes the sense’s touch</i>.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>It may assist us in coming to a decision,
+if we view this sentiment
+through the medium of prose. First,
+according to Sir T. Hanmer, the presence
+of beauty is so commanding that
+it confounds the tongue, and <i>overawes
+the senses</i>. Secondly, “The princely
+majesty of beauty,” says Mr Collier,
+expounding his protégé’s version,
+“confounds the power of speech, and
+<i>mocks all who would attempt to touch
+it</i>.” Thirdly, “Beauty,” says Mr
+Singer, taking up the cause of <i>his</i>
+MS. corrector, “although it confounds
+the tongue, <i>awakes desire</i>. This <i>must</i>
+have been the meaning of the poet.”
+How peremptory a man becomes
+in behalf of MS. readings of which
+he happens to be the sole depositary.
+We confess that we prefer Sir T.
+Hanmer’s to either of the other emendations,
+as the most intelligible and
+dignified of the three.</p>
+
+<p class='c009'><span class='sc'>The Second Part of King
+Henry VI.</span>—<i>Act I. Scene 3.</i> (<i>Enter
+three or four petitioners.</i>)</p>
+
+<p class='c011'>“<i>First Petitioner.</i>—My masters, let us
+stand close, my Lord Protector will come
+this way by and by, and then we may deliver
+our supplications <i>in the quill</i>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“In the quill”—what does that
+mean? Nobody can tell us. The
+margins furnish “in sequel.” Mr
+Singer advances, “in the quoil, or
+coil”—“that is,” says he, “in the
+bustle or tumult which would arise at
+the time the Protector passed.” And
+this we prefer.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act II. Scene 3.</i>—Anything viler
+than the following italicised interpolation,
+or more out of keeping with
+the character of the speaker and the
+dignity of the scene, it is impossible
+to conceive. Queen Mary says to the
+Duke of Glo’ster—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Give up your staff, sir, and the King his realm.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'><i>Glo’ster.</i> My staff?—here, noble Henry, is my staff!</div>
+      <div class='line'><i>To think I fain would keep it makes me laugh</i>;</div>
+      <div class='line'>As willingly I do the same resign</div>
+      <div class='line'>As e’er thy father, Henry, made it mine.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Yet Mr Collier has the hardihood to
+place this abominable forgery in the
+front of his battle, by introducing it
+into his preface, where he says,
+“Ought we not to welcome it with
+thanks as a fortunate recovery and a
+valuable restoration?” No, indeed,
+we ought to send it to the right about
+<i>instanter</i>, and order the apartment to
+be fumigated from which it had been
+expelled.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act III. Scene 2.</i>—The MS. corrector
+seems to be right in his amendment
+of these lines. Suffolk says to
+the Queen,</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in16'>“Live thou to joy in life,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Myself <i>to</i> joy in nought but that thou liv’st.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The ordinary reading is “no” for
+“to.” This ought to go into the text;
+and the same honour ought to be extended
+to “rebel” for “rabble” in
+Clifford’s speech, <i>Act IV. Scene 8</i>.</p>
+
+<p class='c009'><span class='sc'>The Third Part of King Henry
+VI.</span>—In this play two creditable marginal
+emendations come before us, one
+of which it might be safe to admit into
+the text. The safe emendation is <i>ev’n</i>,
+in the lines where the father is lamenting
+over his slain son, (<i>Act II.
+Scene 5</i>)—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“And so obsequious will thy father be,</div>
+      <div class='line'><i>Ev’n</i> for the loss of thee, having no more,</div>
+      <div class='line'>As Priam was for all his valiant sons.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The ancient copies have “men,” and
+the modern ones “sad.” <i>Ev’n</i> was also
+proposed by Mr Dyce some little time
+ago. The other specious correction is
+“bitter-flowing” for “water-flowing,”
+in the lines where the king says (<i>Act
+IV. Scene 8</i>),</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“My mildness hath allayed their swelling griefs,</div>
+      <div class='line'>My mercy dried their <i>water-flowing</i> tears.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>But “water-flowing” may simply
+mean flowing as plentifully as water,
+and therefore our opinion is, that the
+corrector’s substitution ought not to
+be accepted. “Soft carriage” (<i>Act II.
+Scene 2</i>), recommended by the margins,
+instead of “soft courage,” is not by any
+means so plausible. “Soft courage”
+may be a Shakespeareanism for soft
+<i>spirit</i>. The Germans have a word,
+<i>sanftmuth</i>—literally soft courage—<i>i. e.</i>,
+gentleness; and therefore Shakespeare’s
+expression is not what Mr Collier calls
+it, “a contradiction in terms.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act V. Scene 5.</i>—The young prince
+having been stabbed by Edward,
+Clarence, and Glo’ster, Margaret exclaims—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in14'>“O, traitors! murderers!</div>
+      <div class='line'>They that stabb’d Cæsar shed no blood at all,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame,</div>
+      <div class='line'>If this foul deed were by to <i>equal</i> it”—</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c015'>which, of course, means that Cæsar’s
+murderers would be pronounced comparatively
+innocent, if this foul deed
+were set alongside their act. The
+margins propose,</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“If this foul deed were by to <i>sequel</i> it”—</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c015'>than which nothing can be more
+inept.</p>
+
+<p class='c009'><span class='sc'>King Richard III.</span>—<i>Act I. Scene 3.</i>—Richard
+is thus agreeably depicted:</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Thou elvish-marked, abortive, rooting hog,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Thou that wast seal’d in thy nativity,</div>
+      <div class='line'>The slave of nature, and the son of hell!”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The correction here proposed is—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“The <i>stain</i> of nature, and the <i>scorn</i> of hell.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>But the allusion, as Steevens says, is
+to the ancient custom of masters
+branding their profligate slaves; and,
+therefore, “slave” is unquestionably
+the right word. As for the “<i>scorn</i> of
+hell,” that, in certain cases, might be
+a compliment, and is no more than
+what a good man would desire to be.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act III. Scene 1.</i>—Buckingham is
+endeavouring to persuade the Cardinal
+to refuse the privilege of sanctuary to
+the Duke of York. The Cardinal
+says—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in14'>“God in heaven forbid</div>
+      <div class='line'>We should infringe the holy privilege</div>
+      <div class='line'>Of blessed sanctuary! not for all this land</div>
+      <div class='line'>Would I be guilty of so deep a crime.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'><i>Buckingham.</i> You are too senseless-obstinate, my lord,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Too ceremonious and traditional:</div>
+      <div class='line'>Weigh it but with the <i>grossness</i> of this age,</div>
+      <div class='line'>You break not sanctuary in seizing him.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>That is, do not go to your traditions,
+but take into account the unrefining
+character and somewhat licentious
+practice of <i>this</i> age, and you will perceive
+that you break not sanctuary in
+seizing him; for common sense declares
+that a youth of his years cannot
+claim this privilege. This interpretation
+renders the MS. corrector’s inept
+substitution, “the <i>goodness</i> of <i>his</i> age,”
+quite unnecessary. <i>Strict and abstinent</i>
+for “senseless-obstinate” is still
+worse.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act III. Scene 7.</i>—To change “his
+resemblance” into <i>disresemblance</i>, is
+to substitute a very forced and unnatural
+reading for a very plain and
+obvious one. Glo’ster asks Buckingham,</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Touched you the bastardy of Edward’s children?”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I did,” answers Buckingham, who
+then goes on to say, “I also touched
+upon his own (<i>i. e.</i> Edward the
+Fourth’s) bastardy,”</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“As being got, your father then in France,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And <i>his resemblance</i> not being like the Duke,”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>—that is, I also touched upon his resemblance
+(which is no resemblance)
+to his (reputed) father the Duke.
+“Disresemblance” has not a shadow
+of probability in its favour.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act IV. Scene 3.</i>—Mr Collier seriously
+advocates the change of “bloody
+dogs” into “blooded dogs,” in the
+lines about the two ruffians.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Albeit they were fleshed villains, <i>bloody</i> dogs.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Blooded dogs” means, if it means
+anything, dogs that have been <i>let</i>
+blood, and not dogs that are about to
+<i>draw</i> blood as <i>these</i> dogs are. There
+seems to be nothing in the other corrections
+of this play which calls for
+further notice.</p>
+
+<p class='c009'><span class='sc'>King Henry VIII.</span>—<i>Act I. Scene 1.</i>—Speaking
+of Cardinal Wolsey, Buckingham
+says,</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in6'>“A beggar’s <i>book</i></div>
+      <div class='line'>Outworths a noble’s blood.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The margins offer—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in6'>“A beggar’s <i>brood</i></div>
+      <div class='line'>Outworths a noble’s blood.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>This emendation looks plausible; but
+read Johnson’s note, and you will be
+of a different way of thinking. He
+says—“that is, the literary qualifications
+of a <i>bookish beggar</i> are more
+prized than the high descent of hereditary
+greatness. This is a contemptuous
+exclamation very naturally put
+into the mouth of one of the ancient,
+unlettered, martial nobility.” In scene
+2, the change of “trembling contribution”
+into “<i>trebling</i> contribution,”
+where the increase of the taxes is
+spoken of, is a proper correction, and
+we set it down to the credit of the
+MS. corrector as one which ought to
+go into the text.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act II. Scene 3.</i>—What a fine poeticism
+comes before us in the use of the
+word <i>salute</i> in the lines where Anne
+Bullen declares that her advancement
+gives her no satisfaction.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in16'>“Would I had no being,</div>
+      <div class='line'>If this <i>salute</i> my blood a jot,”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>—that is, this promotion is not like a
+peal of bells to my blood; it is not
+like the firing of cannon; it is not like
+the huzzaing of a great multitude:
+it rather weighs me down under a load
+of anxiety and depression; or, as she
+herself expresses it—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“It faints me</div>
+      <div class='line'>To think what follows.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The MS. corrector, turning, as is his
+way, poetry into prose, reads—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in8'>“Would I had no being,</div>
+      <div class='line'>If this <i>elate</i> my blood a jot.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>This must go to the <i>debit</i> side of the
+old corrector’s account.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In <i>Scene 4</i> of the same act, the
+queen, on her trial, adjures the king,
+if she be proved guilty—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in18'>“In God’s name</div>
+      <div class='line'>Turn me away; and let the foul’st contempt</div>
+      <div class='line'>Shut door upon me, and so give me up</div>
+      <div class='line'>To the sharpest <i>kind</i> of justice.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The MS. corrector writes—“to the
+sharpest <i>knife</i> of justice.” But the
+queen is here speaking of a <i>kind</i> of
+justice sharper even than the knife—to
+wit, the contempt and ignominy
+which she imprecates on her own head
+if she be a guilty woman; and therefore
+“kind of justice” is the proper
+expression for her to use, and the MS.
+substitution is unquestionably out of
+place.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act III. Scene 2.</i>—Mr Singer says,
+“‘Now <i>may all</i> joy trace the conjunction,’
+instead of, ‘Now <i>all my</i> joy,’ &#38;c.
+is a good conjecture, and may, I think,
+be safely adopted.” We agree with
+Mr Singer.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act III. Scene 2.</i>—The following is
+one of the cases on which Mr Collier
+most strongly relies as proving the
+perspicacity and trustworthiness of his
+corrector. He brings it forward in his
+introduction (p. xv.), where he says,
+“When Henry VIII. tells Wolsey—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in14'>‘You have scarce time</div>
+      <div class='line'>To steal from <i>spiritual leisure</i> a brief span</div>
+      <div class='line'>To keep your earthly audit,’</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c015'>he cannot mean that the cardinal has
+scarcely time to steal from ‘leisure,’
+but from ‘labour’ (the word was
+misheard by the scribe); and while
+‘leisure’ makes nonsense of the sentence,
+<i>labour</i> is exactly adapted to the
+place.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in14'>‘You scarce have time</div>
+      <div class='line'>To steal from spiritual <i>labour</i> a brief span.’</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The substituted word is found in
+the margin of the folio 1632. This
+instance seems indisputable.” Did
+Mr Collier, we may here ask, never
+hear of <i>learned leisure</i>, when he thus
+brands as nonsensical the expression
+“spiritual leisure”? Is it nonsense
+to say that the study of Shakespeare
+has been the occupation of Mr Collier’s
+“learned leisure” during the last fifty
+years, and that he has had little time
+to spare for any other pursuit? And
+if that be not nonsense, why should it
+be absurd to talk of the “spiritual
+leisure” of Cardinal Wolsey, as that
+which left him little or no time to attend
+to his temporal concerns? Spiritual
+leisure means occupation with
+religious matters, just as learned leisure
+means occupation with literary
+matters. Leisure does not necessarily
+signify idleness, as boys at <i>school</i>
+(σχολη—leisure) know full well. It
+is a polite synonym, perhaps slightly
+tinged with irony, for labour of an
+unmenial and unprofessional character.
+It stands opposed, not to every kind
+of work, but only to the work of
+“men of business,” as they are called.
+And it is used in this place by Shakespeare
+with the very finest propriety.
+In so far, therefore, as this flower of
+speech is concerned, we must insist on
+turning “the weeder-clips aside” of
+Mr Collier’s ruthless spoliator, and on
+rejecting the vulgar weed which he
+offers to plant in its place.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act IV. Scene 2.</i>—In the following
+passage, however, we approve of the
+spoliator’s punctuation, which it seems
+Mr Singer had adopted in his edition
+1826.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in16'>“This Cardinal,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Though from an humble stock undoubtedly,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Was fashioned to much honour from his cradle.</div>
+      <div class='line'>He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>All the common copies place a full
+stop after honour, and represent the
+cardinal as a scholar “ripe and good
+from his cradle,” as if he had been
+born with a perfect knowledge of
+Greek and Latin.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act V. Scene 2.</i>—It is very difficult
+to say what should be made of the
+following:—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in16'>“But we all are men,</div>
+      <div class='line'>In our natures frail; <i>and capable</i></div>
+      <div class='line'><i>Of our flesh</i>; few are angels.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Malone proposed—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“In our natures frail: <i>incapable</i>;</div>
+      <div class='line'>Of our flesh few are angels.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The margins propose “<i>culpable</i> of our
+flesh,” which was also recommended
+by Mr Monck Mason. We venture
+to suggest—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“In our natures frail; incapable</div>
+      <div class='line'>Of our flesh.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>i. e.</i>, incontinent of our flesh. But
+whatever may be done with this new
+reading, the next ought certainly to
+be rigorously excluded from the text.
+<i>Loquitur</i> Cranmer—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in18'>“Nor is there living</div>
+      <div class='line'>(I speak it with a single heart, my Lords)</div>
+      <div class='line'>A man that more detests, <i>more stirs</i> against,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Both in his private conscience and his place,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Defacers of a public peace, than I do.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>“The substitution of <i>strives</i> for
+‘stirs,’” as Mr Singer very properly
+remarks, “would be high treason
+against a nervous Shakespearean expression.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Scene 3.</i>—The MS. emendation in
+the speech of the porter’s man (<i>queen</i>
+for “chine,” and <i>crown</i> for “cow”)
+is certainly entitled to consideration;
+but it is quite possible that his language,
+being that of a clown, may be
+designedly nonsensical.</p>
+
+<p class='c009'><span class='sc'>Troilus and Cressida.</span>—<i>Act I.
+Scene 2.</i>—Cressida says,</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Achievement is, command—ungained, beseech.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>This line is probably misprinted. Mr
+Harness long ago proposed,</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“<i>Achieved, men us</i> command—ungained, beseech,”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>—that is, men <i>command</i> us (women)
+when we are achieved or gained over—they
+<i>beseech</i> us, so long as we are
+ungained. The MS. corrector’s emendation
+falls very far short of the perspicuity
+of this amendment. He gives
+us—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“<i>Achieved, men still</i> command—ungained, beseech.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Scene 3.</i>—We may notice, in passing,
+a “new reading” proposed by
+Mr Singer, which, though ingenious,
+we cannot be prevailed upon to accept.
+It occurs in the following lines, where
+Ulysses says—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre</div>
+      <div class='line'>Observe degree, priority, and place,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Insisture, course, proportion, season, form,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Office, and custom in all line of order;</div>
+      <div class='line'>And therefore is the glorious planet, Sol,</div>
+      <div class='line'>In noble eminence enthroned and sphered</div>
+      <div class='line'>Amidst the <i>other</i>; whose med’cinable eye</div>
+      <div class='line'>Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And posts like the commandment of a king,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Sans check, to good and bad.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Instead of “other,” Mr Singer proposes
+to read “ether.” But “other”
+is more in harmony with the context,
+in which the sun is specially described
+as exercising a dominion over the <i>other</i>
+celestial luminaries. The parallel passage
+from Cicero, which Mr Singer
+quotes, tells just as much against him
+as for him. “<span lang="la">Medium fere regionem
+sol obtinet, dux, et princeps, et moderater
+luminum <i>reliquiorum</i>.</span>” We
+therefore protest against the established
+text being disturbed.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>To return to Mr Collier. He must
+have very extraordinary notions of
+verbal propriety when he can say that
+“a fine compound epithet appears to
+have escaped in the hands of the old
+printer, and a small manuscript correction
+in the margin converts a poor
+expression into one of great force and
+beauty in these lines—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>‘What the repining enemy commends</div>
+      <div class='line'>That breath fame blows; that praise, <i>sole pure</i>, transcends;’”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>—that is, praise from an enemy is praise
+of the highest quality, and is the <i>only
+pure</i> kind of praise. The poor expression
+here condemned is “sole pure,”
+and the fine compound epithet which
+is supposed to have escaped the fingers
+of the old compositor, is <i>soul-pure</i>.
+We venture to think that Shakespeare
+used the right words to express his
+own meaning, and that the MS. corrector’s
+fine compound epithet is one
+of the most lack-a-daisical of the
+daisies that peer out upon us from the
+margins of the folio 1632.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act III. Scene 1.</i>—The words, “my
+<i>disposer</i> Cressida,” have been satisfactorily
+shown by Mr Singer to mean,
+my <i>handmaiden</i> Cressida. Therefore
+the change of “disposer” into <i>dispraiser</i>,
+as recommended by the MS.
+corrector, is quite uncalled for. The
+speech, however, in which these words
+occur must be taken from Paris, and
+given to Helen.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act III. Scene 2.</i>—In the dialogue
+between Troilus and Cressida, the lady
+says, that she must take leave of him:</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“<i>Troilus.</i>—What offends you, lady?</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'><i>Cressida.</i>—Sir, mine own company.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'><i>Troilus.</i>—You cannot shun yourself.</div>
+    </div>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'><i>Cressida.</i>—Let me go and try.</div>
+      <div class='line'>I have a kind of self resides with you,</div>
+      <div class='line'>But an unkind self that itself will leave</div>
+      <div class='line'>To be another’s fool.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>This conversation is not very clear;
+yet sense may be made of it. The lady
+says, that she is offended with her own
+company: the gentleman rejoins, that
+she cannot get rid of herself. “Let
+me try,” says the lady; “I have a
+kind of self which resides with you—an
+unkind self, because it leaves <i>me</i>
+to be <i>your</i> fool; of that self I can get
+rid, because it will remain with you
+when I leave you.” The MS. emendation
+affords no kind of sense whatsoever.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“I have a <i>kind self that</i> resides with you,</div>
+      <div class='line'>But an unkind self that itself will leave</div>
+      <div class='line'>To be another’s fool.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Scene 3.</i>—In the following passage,
+in which it is said that the eye is unable
+to see itself except by reflection,
+these lines occur:</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“For speculation turns not to itself</div>
+      <div class='line'>Till it hath travelled, and is <i>married</i> there,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Where it may see itself.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Mirrored</i>, for “married,” is certainly
+a very excellent emendation; but it
+may reasonably be doubted whether
+<i>mirror</i> was used as a verb in Shakespeare’s
+time. “To mirror” does not
+occur even in Johnson’s Dictionary.
+This consideration makes us hesitate
+to recommend it for the text; for
+“married,” though, perhaps, not so
+good, still makes sense. On further
+reflection we are satisfied that “married”
+was Shakespeare’s word. In
+this Scene Shakespeare says, “that
+the providence that’s in a watchful
+state” is able to unveil human thoughts
+“in their dumb <i>cradles</i>,” in their very
+<i>incunabula</i>—a finer expression certainly
+than the MS. corrector’s substitution
+“in their dumb <i>crudities</i>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act IV. Scene 4.</i>—Between Mr Collier
+and his corrector the following passage
+would be perverted into nonsense,
+if they were allowed to have their own
+way:</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“And sometimes we are devils to ourselves</div>
+      <div class='line'>When we will tempt the frailty of our powers,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Presuming on their <i>changeful</i> potency;”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>—that is, trusting rashly to their potency,
+which is better than <i>im</i>potency,
+and yet falls far short of <i>perfect</i> potency.
+Mr Collier hazards the opinion,
+that “unchangeful potency” would
+be a better reading. We cannot agree
+with him except to this extent that
+it would be a better reading than the
+one which the MS. corrector proposes,</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Presuming on their <i>chainful</i> potency,”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c015'>which we leave to the approbation of
+those who can understand it.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Scene 5.</i>—The lines in which certain
+ladies of frail virtue, or, in the
+stronger language of Johnson, “corrupt
+wenches,” are spoken of, have
+given rise to much comment.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Oh! these encounterers so glib of tongue,</div>
+      <div class='line'>That give <i>a coasting</i> welcome ere it comes.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>This is the ordinary reading. The
+margins propose,</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“That give <i>occasion</i> welcome ere it comes.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>We prefer the emendation suggested
+by Monck Mason and Coleridge,</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“That give <i>accosting</i> welcome ere it comes;”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>—that is, who take the initiative, and
+address before they are addressed.</p>
+
+<p class='c009'><span class='sc'>Coriolanus.</span>—<i>Act I. Scene 1.</i>—In
+his first emendation, the MS. corrector
+betrays his ignorance of the right
+meaning of words. The term “object,”
+which nowadays is employed
+rather loosely in several acceptations,
+is used by Shakespeare, in the following
+passage, in its proper and original
+signification. One of the Roman citizens,
+referring to the poverty of the
+plebeians as contrasted with the wealth
+of the patricians, remarks, “The leanness
+that afflicts us, the <i>object</i> of our
+misery, is an inventory to particularise
+their abundance; our suffering is a gain
+to them.” For “object” we should,
+nowadays, say <i>spectacle</i>. But the
+corrector cannot have known that
+this was the meaning of the word,
+otherwise he surely never would have
+been so misguided as to propose the
+term <i>abjectness</i> in its place. “This
+substitution,” says Mr Collier, “could
+hardly have proceeded from the mere
+taste or discretion of the old corrector.”
+No, truly; but it proceeded from his
+want of taste, his want of discretion,
+and his want of knowledge.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The ink with which these MS. corrections
+were made, being, as Mr Collier
+tells us, of various shades, differing
+sometimes on the same page, he is of
+opinion that they “must have been
+introduced from time to time during,
+perhaps, the course of several years.”
+We think this a highly probable supposition;
+only, instead of <i>several</i> years,
+we would suggest <i>sixty</i> or <i>seventy</i> years.
+So that, supposing the MS. corrector
+to have begun his work when he was
+about thirty, he may have completed
+it when he was about ninety or a hundred
+years of age. At any rate, he
+must have been in the last stage of
+second childhood when he jotted down
+the following new reading in the famous
+fable of the “belly and the members.”
+The belly, speaking of the food
+it receives, says—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“I send it through the rivers of the blood,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Even to the court, the heart, <i>to the seat o’ the</i> brain,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And through the cranks and offices of man.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>And so on; upon which one of the citizens
+asks Menenius, the relator of the
+fable, “How apply you this?”</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“<i>Menenius.</i> The <i>senators</i> of Rome are this good <i>belly</i>,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And you the mutinous members.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Yet, with this line staring him in the
+face, the old corrector proposes to
+read,</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“I send it through the rivers of the blood,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Even to the court, the heart, the <i>senate brain</i>.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The senate brain! when Shakespeare
+has distinctly told us that the senate
+is the belly. This indeed is the very
+<i>point</i> of the fable. Surely nothing except
+the most extreme degree of dotage
+can account for such a manifest
+perversion as that; yet Mr Collier
+says that “it much improves the
+sense.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The MS. corrector cannot have been
+nearly so old when he changed “almost”
+into <i>all most</i> in the line,</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Nay, these are <i>all most</i> thoroughly persuaded;”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c015'>for this is decidedly an improvement,
+and ought, we think, to get admission
+into the text.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Scene 3.</i>—Unless we can obtain a
+better substitute than <i>contemning</i>, we
+are not disposed to alter the received
+reading of these lines:</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in14'>“The breasts of Hecuba,</div>
+      <div class='line'>When she did suckle Hector, look’d not lovelier</div>
+      <div class='line'>Than Hector’s forehead, when it spit forth blood</div>
+      <div class='line'>At Grecian swords <i>contending</i>.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Scene 6.</i>—In the following passage
+a small word occasions a great difficulty.
+Coriolanus, wishing to select a
+certain number out of a large body of
+soldiers who have offered him their
+services, says—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in18'>“Please you to march,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And <i>four</i> shall quickly draw out my command,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Which men are best inclined.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>But why “four?” Surely four men
+would not be sufficient for the attack
+which he meditated. The MS. corrector
+gives us—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in14'>“Please you to march <i>before</i>,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And <i>I</i> shall quickly draw out my command,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Which men are best inclined.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The second line is unintelligible, and
+not to be construed on any known
+principles of grammar. Mr Singer
+proposes—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in18'>“Please you to march,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And <i>some</i> shall quickly draw out my command,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Which men are best inclined.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>We would suggest—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in18'>“Please you to march,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And <i>those</i> shall quickly draw out my command,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Which men are best inclined,”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>—that is: And my command shall
+quickly draw out, or select, those men
+which (men) are best inclined to be
+of service to me. The construction
+here is indeed awkward, but less
+awkward, we think, than that of the
+other emendations.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Scene 9.</i>—The punctuation of the
+following passage requires to be put
+right. Coriolanus is declaring how
+much disgusted he is with the flatteries,
+the flourish of trumpets, and
+other demonstrations of applause with
+which he is saluted—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“May these same instruments which you profane</div>
+      <div class='line'>Never sound more!  When drums and trumpets shall</div>
+      <div class='line'>I’ the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be</div>
+      <div class='line'>Made all of false-faced soothing. When steel grows</div>
+      <div class='line'>Soft as the parasite’s silk, let him be made</div>
+      <div class='line'>A coverture for the wars!”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>But what is the sense of saying—let
+courts and cities be made up of hypocrisy,
+<i>when</i> drums and trumpets in
+the field shall prove flatterers? This
+has no meaning. We should punctuate
+the lines thus—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“May these same instruments which you profane,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Never sound more, when drums and trumpets shall</div>
+      <div class='line'>I’ the field prove flatterers. Let courts and cities be</div>
+      <div class='line'>Made all of false-faced soothing,” &#38;c.</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The meaning is—When drums and
+trumpets in the field shall prove flatterers
+(as they are doing at present),
+may they never sound more! Let
+<i>courts</i> and <i>cities</i> be as hollow-hearted
+as they please; but let the <i>camp</i> enjoy
+an immunity from these fulsome
+observances. When steel grows soft
+as the parasite’s silk (that is, when
+the warrior loses his stubborn and
+unbending character), let silk be made
+a coverture for the wars, for it will
+then be quite as useful as steel. The
+only alteration which the MS. corrector
+proposes in this passage, is the
+substitution of <i>coverture</i> for the original
+reading “overture”—a change
+which was long ago made.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act II. Scene 1.</i>—The margins
+make an uncommonly good hit in the
+speech of Menenius, who says, “I am
+known to be a humorous patrician,
+and one that loves a cup of hot wine
+with not a drop of allaying Tiber
+in’t: said to be something imperfect
+in favouring the <i>first</i> complaint.” No
+sense can be extracted from this by
+any process of distillation. The old
+corrector, brightening up for an instant,
+writes “<i>thirst</i> complaint;” on
+which Mr Singer remarks, “The
+alteration of ‘first’ into <i>thirst</i> is not
+necessary, for it seems that thirst
+was sometimes provincially pronounced
+and spelt <i>first</i> and <i>furst</i>.”
+Come, come, Mr Singer, that is hardly
+fair. Let us give the devil his due.
+What one reader of Shakespeare out
+of every million was to know that
+“first” was a provincialism for <i>thirst</i>?
+We ourselves, at least, had not a suspicion
+of it till the old corrector
+opened our eyes to the right reading—the
+meaning of which is, “I am
+said to have a failing in yielding rather
+too readily to the <i>thirst</i> complaint.”
+This emendation covers a multitude
+of sins, and ought, beyond a doubt,
+to be promoted into the text.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>We also willingly accept <i>empirick
+physic</i> for “empirick qutique,” the
+ordinary, but unintelligible reading.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A difficulty occurs in the admirable
+verses in which the whole city is described
+as turning out in order to get
+a sight of the triumphant Coriolanus.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights</div>
+      <div class='line'>Are spectacled to see him. Your prattling nurse</div>
+      <div class='line'>Into a rapture lets her baby cry</div>
+      <div class='line'>While she <i>chats</i> him. The kitchen malkin pins</div>
+      <div class='line'>Her richest lockram ’bout her reechy neck,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Clambering the walls to eye him.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Cheers</i> instead of “chats” is proposed
+by the old corrector. Mr Singer says
+that cheers “savours too much of modern
+times,” and suggests <i>claps</i>; but
+a woman with an infant in her arms
+would find some difficulty, we fancy,
+in clapping her hands; though, perhaps,
+this very difficulty and her attempt
+to overcome it may have been
+the cause of her baby crying himself
+“into a rapture.” We are disposed,
+however, to adhere to the old lection—“while
+she chats <i>him</i>”—that is, while
+she makes Coriolanus the subject of
+her gabble. For it ought to be borne
+in mind that Coriolanus has not, as
+yet, made his appearance: and, therefore,
+both <i>cheering</i> and <i>clapping</i> would
+be premature. We observe that, instead
+of a “rapture”—<i>i. e.</i>, a fit—one
+of the wiseacres of the <i>variorum</i> proposes
+to read <i>a rupture</i>! The nurse
+lets the baby cry himself <i>into a rupture</i>!
+This outflanks even the margins.
+The annotator subscribes himself
+“S. W.”—which means, we presume,
+Something Wanting in the
+upper story.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>We accept <i>touch</i> for “reach” in the
+sentence where it is said, “his soaring
+insolence shall <i>reach</i> (the oldest reading
+is “teach”) the people. This
+correction had been already proposed
+by Mr Knight. But we cannot approve
+of the following change (<i>prest</i>
+for “blest,” <i>Scene 2</i>) which has obtained
+the sanction of Mr Singer. Sicinius
+has just remarked that the senate
+has assembled to do honour to
+Coriolanus, on which Brutus says—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in13'>“Which the rather</div>
+      <div class='line'>We shall be <i>blest</i> to do, if he remember</div>
+      <div class='line'>A kinder value of the people, than</div>
+      <div class='line'>He hath hereto prized them at.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Does not this mean—which honour
+we shall be <i>most happy</i> to do to Coriolanus,
+if &#38;c.? Why then change
+“blest” into <i>prest?</i> a very unnatural
+mode of speech.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Scene 3.</i>—In the next instance,
+however, we side most cordially with
+the margins and Mr Collier, against
+Mr Singer and the ordinary text. The
+haughty Coriolanus, who is a candidate
+for the consulship, says—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Why in this <i>wolvish</i> gown should I stand here,</div>
+      <div class='line'>To beg of Hob and Dick?” &#38;c.</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Now Shakespeare, in a previous part
+of the play, has described the candidate’s
+toga as “the <i>napless</i> vesture of
+humility;” and it is well known that
+this toga was of a different texture
+from that usually worn. Is it not
+probable, therefore—nay certain—that
+Coriolanus should speak of it as <i>woolless</i>,
+the word wolvish being altogether
+unintelligible? Accordingly, the MS.
+corrector reads—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Why in this <i>woolless</i> gown should I stand here.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mr Singer, defending the old reading,
+says, it is sufficient that his investiture
+in this gown “was <i>simulating</i>
+humility not in his nature, to bring to
+mind the fable of the <i>wolf</i>.” Oh, Mr
+Singer! but must not the epithet in
+that case have been <i>sheepish</i>? Surely,
+if Coriolanus had felt himself to be a
+wolf in sheep’s clothing, he never
+would have said that he was a sheep
+in <i>wolves’</i> clothing!<a id='r4'></a><a href='#f4' class='c008'><sup>[4]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act III. Scene 1.</i>—In the following
+speech of Coriolanus several corrections
+are proposed, one of which, and
+perhaps two, might be admitted into
+the text:—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“O, good but most unwise patricians! why,</div>
+      <div class='line'>You grave but reckless senators, have you thus</div>
+      <div class='line'>Given Hydra <i>here</i> to choose an officer</div>
+      <div class='line'>That with his peremptory ‘shall’ (being but</div>
+      <div class='line'>The horn and noise of the monsters), wants not spirit</div>
+      <div class='line'>To say he’ll turn your current in a ditch,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And make your channel his? If he have power,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Then vail your ignorance: if none, <i>awake</i></div>
+      <div class='line'>Your dangerous lenity.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Leave</i> for “here” is, we think, a good
+exchange; and <i>revoke</i> for “awake,”
+an improvement which can scarcely
+be resisted. Further on, Coriolanus
+asks—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in20'>“Well, what then,</div>
+      <div class='line'>How shall this <i>bosom multiplied</i>, digest</div>
+      <div class='line'>The senate’s courtesy?”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>There is, it seems, an old word <i>bisson</i>,
+signifying blind; and therefore we
+see no good reason (although such
+may exist) against accepting, as entitled
+to textual advancement, the
+old corrector’s substitution of <i>bisson
+multitude</i> for “bosom multiplied.” The
+latter, however, is defended, as we
+learn from Mr Singer, “by one strenuous
+dissentient voice.” Why did
+he not tell us by whom and where?
+One excellent emendation by Mr
+Singer himself we must here notice.
+Coriolanus speaks of those who wish</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“To <i>jump</i> a body with a dangerous physic</div>
+      <div class='line'>That’s sure of death without it.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>No sense can be made of this. Some
+copies have <i>vamp</i>, which is not a bad
+reading; but there is an old word
+<i>imp</i>, which signifies to piece or patch.
+Accordingly, Mr Singer reads—“To
+<i>imp</i> a body,” &#38;c. This is the word
+which ought to stand in the text.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Scene 2.</i>—Here the old corrector is
+again at his forging tricks upon a
+large scale. Volumnia says to Coriolanus,
+her son—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in12'>“Pray be counsell’d,</div>
+      <div class='line'>I have a heart as little apt as yours</div>
+      <div class='line'><i>To brook control without the use of anger</i>;</div>
+      <div class='line'>But yet a brain that leads my use of anger</div>
+      <div class='line'>To better vantage.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The interpolated line is very unlike
+the diction of Shakespeare, and is not
+at all called for. “Apt” here means
+pliant, accommodating. “I have a
+heart as stubborn and unaccommodating
+as your own; but yet,” &#38;c.
+Mr Singer proposes <i>soft</i> for “apt;”
+but this seems unnecessary.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act IV. Scene 1.</i>—Although the
+construction of the latter part of these
+lines is somewhat involved, it is far
+more after the manner of Shakespeare
+than the correction which the margins
+propose. Coriolanus says to his
+mother—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in24'>“Nay, mother,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Where is your ancient courage? You were used</div>
+      <div class='line'>To say extremity was the trier of spirits;</div>
+      <div class='line'>That common chances common men could bear,</div>
+      <div class='line'>That when the sea was calm, all boats alike</div>
+      <div class='line'>Show’d mastership in floating; fortune’s blows,</div>
+      <div class='line'>When most struck home, being <i>gentle wounded</i>, craves</div>
+      <div class='line'>A noble cunning.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Gentle-minded</i> is the new reading; but
+it is quite uncalled for. The meaning
+is—You were used to say that when
+fortune’s blows were most struck home,
+to be gentle, <i>though</i> wounded, craves
+a noble cunning—that is, a high degree
+of self-command.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Scene 5.</i>—It is curious to remark
+how cleverly Shakespeare has anticipated
+old Hobbes’ theory of human
+nature and of society, in the scene
+where the serving-men are discussing
+the merits of peace and war.
+“Peace,” says one of them, “makes
+men <i>hate</i> one another.” “The reason?”
+asks another. Answer—“Because
+they then <i>less need</i> one another.”
+This, in a very few words,
+is exactly the doctrine of the old
+philosopher of Malmesbury.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Scene 6.</i>—“[<i>God</i>] Marcius” for “<i>good</i>
+Marcius,” is a commendable emendation;
+and perhaps, also, it may be
+proper to read—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in10'>“You have made fair hands,</div>
+      <div class='line'>You and your <i>handycrafts</i> have crafted fair,”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c015'>instead of</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“You and your crafts, you have crafted fair.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The following passage (<i>Scene 7</i>) has
+given a good deal of trouble to the
+commentators. Aufidius is describing
+Coriolanus as a man who, with all his
+merits, had failed, through some unaccountable
+perversity of judgment,
+in attaining the position which his
+genius entitled him to occupy. He
+then says—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in22'>“So our virtues</div>
+      <div class='line'>Lie in the interpretation of the time;</div>
+      <div class='line'>And power, unto itself most commendable,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Hath not a tomb so evident <i>as a chair</i></div>
+      <div class='line'>To extol what it hath done.</div>
+      <div class='line'>One fire drives out one fire, one nail one nail,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Right’s by right <i>fouler</i>, strengths by strength do fail.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Our virtues, says Aufidius, consist in
+our ability to interpret, and turn to
+good account, the signs of the times.
+“And power, unto itself most commendable,
+hath not a tomb so evident
+as a chair to extol what it hath
+done;” that is,—and power, which
+delights to praise itself, is sure to
+have a downfall, so soon as it blazons
+forth its pretensions from the
+<i>rostrum</i>. The MS. corrector proposes—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Hath not a tomb so evident <i>as a cheer</i>,” &#38;c.</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The original text is obscurely enough
+expressed, but the new reading seems
+to be utter nonsense. What <i>can</i> Mr
+Singer mean by his reading—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Hath not a tomb so evident as a <i>hair</i>”?</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The old corrector also reads, unnecessarily,
+as we think, <i>suffer</i> for “fouler.”
+“Rights by rights <i>suffer</i>.” There
+seems to be no necessity for changing
+the received text. “Right is fouler
+by right,”—which Steevens thus explains:
+“what is already right, and
+is received as such, becomes less clear
+when supported by supernumerary
+proof.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Act V. Scene 3.</i>—An emendation,
+good so far as it goes, comes before
+us in the speech of Volumnia, the
+mother of Coriolanus. She, his wife,
+and young son, are supplicating the
+triumphant renegade to spare his native
+country. She says that, instead
+of his presence being a comfort to
+them, it is a sight—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Making the mother, wife, and child to see</div>
+      <div class='line'>The son, the husband, and the father tearing</div>
+      <div class='line'>His country’s bowels out. And <i>to</i> poor we</div>
+      <div class='line'>Thine <i>enmity’s</i> most capital.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>This is the reading of the ordinary
+copies, but it is neither sense nor
+grammar. The old corrector removes
+the full stop after <i>out</i>, and reads—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“His country’s bowels out; and so poor we</div>
+      <div class='line'>Thine enemies most capital.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>But if this is the right reading, it
+must be completed by changing “we”
+into <i>us</i>. The meaning will then be—making
+thy mother, wife, &#38;c.; and so
+(making) poor <i>us</i> (that is, those whom
+you are bound to love and protect before
+all others) thy chief enemies.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Scene 5.</i>—Aufidius, speaking of Coriolanus,
+says, I</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in14'>“Served his designments</div>
+      <div class='line'>In mine own person, holp to <i>reap</i> the fame</div>
+      <div class='line'>Which he did <i>end</i> all his.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The word “end” has been a stumbling-block
+to the commentators. The
+old corrector reads—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“Holp to reap the fame</div>
+      <div class='line'>Which he did <i>ear</i> all his.”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>On which Mr Singer remarks, with a
+good deal of pertinency, “The substitution
+of <i>ear</i> for ‘end’ is a good
+emendation of an evident misprint;
+but the correctors have only half done
+their work: <i>ear</i>—<i>i. e.</i> plough—and
+<i>reap</i> should change places; or Aufidius
+is made to say that he had a
+share in the harvest, while Coriolanus
+had all the labour of ploughing, contrary
+to what is intended to be said.
+The passage will then run thus—</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in12'>‘Served his designments</div>
+      <div class='line'>In mine own person; holp to <i>ear</i> the fame</div>
+      <div class='line'>Which he did <i>reap</i> all his.’</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>“This,” adds Mr Singer, “is the suggestion
+of a correspondent of <cite>Notes
+and Queries</cite>, vol. vii. p. 378.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Ten plays, as revised by the old
+corrector, still remain to be overhauled.
+These shall be disposed of
+in our next Number, when it will
+appear that the MS. emendations
+offer no symptoms of improvement,
+but come out worse and worse the
+more fully and attentively they are
+considered.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_325'>325</span>
+  <h2 class='c002'>THE DUKE’S DILEMMA.<br> A CHRONICLE OF NIESENSTEIN.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c009'>The close of the theatrical year,
+which in France occurs in early
+spring, annually brings to Paris a
+throng of actors and actresses, the
+disorganised elements of provincial
+companies, who repair to the capital
+to contract engagements for the new
+season. Paris is the grand centre to
+which all dramatic stars converge—the
+great bazaar where managers
+recruit their troops for the summer
+campaign. In bad weather the mart
+for this human merchandise is at an
+obscure coffeehouse near the Rue St
+Honoré; when the sun shines, the
+place of meeting is in the garden of
+the Palais Royal. There, pacing to
+and fro beneath the lime-trees, the
+high contracting parties pursue their
+negotiations and make their bargains.
+It is the theatrical Exchange, the histrionic
+<i>Bourse</i>. There the conversation
+and the company are alike curious.
+Many are the strange discussions and
+original anecdotes that there are
+heard; many the odd figures there
+paraded. Tragedians, comedians,
+singers, men and women, young and
+old, flock thither in quest of fortune
+and a good engagement. The threadbare
+coats of some say little in favour
+of recent success or present prosperity;
+but only hear them speak, and
+you are at once convinced that <i>they</i>
+have no need of broadcloth who are
+so amply covered with laurels. It is
+delightful to hear them talk of their
+triumphs, of the storms of applause,
+the rapturous bravos, the boundless
+enthusiasm, of the audiences they
+lately delighted. Their brows are oppressed
+with the weight of their
+bays. The south mourns their loss;
+if they go west, the north will be envious
+and inconsolable. As to themselves—north,
+south, east, or west—they
+care little to which point of the
+compass the breeze of their destiny
+may waft them. Thorough gypsies in
+their habits, accustomed to make the
+best of the passing hour, and to take
+small care for the future so long as
+the present is provided for, like soldiers
+they heed not the name of the
+town so long as the quarters be
+good.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It was a fine morning in April.
+The sun shone brightly, and, amongst
+the numerous loungers in the garden
+of the Palais Royal were several
+groups of actors. The season was
+already far advanced; all the companies
+were formed, and those players
+who had not secured an engagement
+had but a poor chance of finding
+one. Their anxiety was legible upon
+their countenances. A man of about
+fifty years of age walked to and
+fro, a newspaper in his hand, and
+to him, when he passed near them,
+the actors bowed—respectfully and
+hopefully. A quick glance was his
+acknowledgment of their salutation,
+and then his eyes reverted to his
+paper, as if it deeply interested him.
+When he was out of hearing, the
+actors, who had assumed their most
+picturesque attitudes to attract his attention,
+and who beheld their labour
+lost, vented their ill-humour.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Balthasar is mighty proud,” said
+one; “he has not a word to say to
+us.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Perhaps he does not want anybody,”
+remarked another; “I think
+he has no theatre this year.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“That would be odd. They say
+he is a clever manager.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“He may best prove his cleverness
+by keeping aloof. It is so difficult
+nowadays to do good in the provinces.
+The public is so fastidious! the authorities
+are so shabby, so unwilling to
+put their hands in their pockets. Ah,
+my dear fellow, our art is sadly
+fallen!”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Whilst the discontented actors bemoaned
+themselves, Balthasar eagerly
+accosted a young man who just then
+entered the garden by the passage of
+the Perron. The coffeehouse-keepers
+had already begun to put out tables
+under the tender foliage. The two
+men sat down at one of them.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Well, Florival,” said the manager,
+“does my offer suit you? Will
+you make one of us? I was glad to
+hear you had broken off with Ricardin.
+With your qualifications you ought
+to have an engagement in Paris, or
+at least at a first-rate provincial
+theatre. But you are young, and, as
+you know, managers prefer actors of
+greater experience and established
+reputation. Your parts are generally
+taken by youths of five-and-forty,
+with wrinkles and grey hairs,
+but well versed in the traditions of
+the stage—with damaged voices but
+an excellent style. My brother managers
+are greedy of great names;
+yours still has to become known—as
+yet, you have but your talent
+to recommend you. I will content
+myself with that; content yourself
+with what I offer you. Times are
+bad, the season is advanced, engagements
+are hard to find. Many
+of your comrades have gone to try
+their luck beyond seas. We have
+not so far to go; we shall scarcely
+overstep the boundary of our ungrateful
+country. Germany invites us; it
+is a pleasant land, and Rhine wine
+is not to be disdained. I will tell
+you how the thing came about. For
+many years past I have managed
+theatres in the eastern departments,
+in Alsatia and Lorraine. Last summer,
+having a little leisure, I made
+an excursion to Baden-Baden. As
+usual, it was crowded with fashionables.
+One rubbed shoulders with
+princes and trod upon highnesses’
+toes; one could not walk twenty
+yards without meeting a sovereign.
+All these crowned heads, kings, grand dukes,
+electors, mingled easily and
+affably with the throng of visitors.
+Etiquette is banished from the baths
+of Baden, where, without laying aside
+their titles, great personages enjoy
+the liberty and advantages of an incognito.
+At the time of my visit, a
+company of very indifferent German
+actors were playing, two or three
+times a-week, in the little theatre.
+They played to empty benches, and
+must have starved but for the assistance
+afforded them by the directors
+of the gambling-tables. I often went
+to their performances, and, amongst
+the scanty spectators, I soon remarked
+one who was as assiduous as
+myself. A gentleman, very plainly
+dressed, but of agreeable countenance
+and aristocratic appearance,
+invariably occupied the same stall,
+and seemed to enjoy the performance,
+which proved that he was easily
+pleased. One night he addressed to
+me some remark with respect to the
+play then acting; we got into conversation
+on the subject of dramatic
+art; he saw that I was specially
+competent on that topic, and after
+the theatre he asked me to take refreshment
+with him. I accepted. At
+midnight we parted, and, as I was
+going home, I met a gambler whom I
+slightly knew. ‘I congratulate you,’
+he said; ‘you have friends in high
+places!’ He alluded to the gentleman
+with whom I had passed the
+evening, and whom I now learned
+was no less a personage than his
+Serene Highness Prince Leopold,
+sovereign ruler of the Grand Duchy
+of Niesenstein. I had had the honour
+of passing a whole evening in
+familiar intercourse with a crowned
+head. Next day, walking in the park,
+I met his Highness. I made a low
+bow and kept at a respectful distance,
+but the Grand Duke came up to me
+and asked me to walk with him. Before
+accepting, I thought it right to
+inform him who I was. ‘I guessed
+as much,’ said the Prince. ‘From
+one or two things that last night
+escaped you, I made no doubt you
+were a theatrical manager.’ And by
+a gesture he renewed his invitation
+to accompany him. In a long conversation
+he informed me of his intention
+to establish a French theatre
+in his capital, for the performance
+of comedy, drama, vaudeville, and
+comic operas. He was then building
+a large theatre, which would be
+ready by the end of the winter, and
+he offered me its management on very
+advantageous terms. I had no plans
+in France for the present year, and
+the offer was too good to be refused.
+The Grand Duke guaranteed my
+expenses and a gratuity, and there
+was a chance of very large profits.
+I hesitated not a moment; we exchanged
+promises, and the affair was
+concluded.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“According to our agreement, I
+am to be at Karlstadt, the capital of
+the Grand Duchy of Niesenstein, in
+the first week in May. There is no
+time to lose. My company is almost
+complete, but there are still some important
+gaps to fill. Amongst others,
+I want a lover, a light comedian, and
+a first singer. I reckon upon you to
+fill these important posts.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I am quite willing,” replied the
+actor, “but there is still an obstacle.
+You must know, my dear Balthasar,
+that I am deeply in love—seriously,
+this time—and I broke off with Ricardin
+solely because he would not
+engage her to whom I am attached.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Oho! she is an actress?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Two years upon the stage; a
+lovely girl, full of grace and talent,
+and with a charming voice. The
+Opera Comique has not a singer to
+compare with her.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“And she is disengaged?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Yes, my dear fellow; strange
+though it seems, and by a combination
+of circumstances which it were
+tedious to detail, the fascinating Delia
+is still without an engagement. And
+I give you notice that henceforward
+I attach myself to her steps: where
+she goes, I go; I will perform upon
+no boards which she does not tread.
+I am determined to win her heart,
+and make her my wife.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Very good!” cried Balthasar,
+rising from his seat; “tell me the
+address of this prodigy: I run, I fly,
+I make every sacrifice; and we will
+start to-morrow.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>People were quite right in saying
+that Balthasar was a clever manager.
+None better knew how to deal with
+actors, often capricious and difficult to
+guide. He possessed skill, taste, and
+tact. One hour after the conversation
+in the garden of the Palais
+Royal, he had obtained the signatures
+of Delia and Florival, two excellent
+acquisitions, destined to do him infinite
+honour in Germany. That
+night his little company was complete,
+and the next day, after a good
+dinner, it started for Strasburg. It
+was composed as follows:</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Balthasar, manager, was to play
+the old men, and take the heavy
+business.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Florival was the leading man, the
+lover, and the first singer.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Rigolet was the low comedian, and
+took the parts usually played by Arnal
+and Bouffé.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Similor was to perform the valets
+in Molière’s comedies, and eccentric
+low comedy characters.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Anselmo was the walking gentleman.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Lebel led the band.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Miss Delia was to display her
+charms and talents as prima donna,
+and in genteel comedy.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Miss Foligny was the singing chambermaid.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Miss Alice was the walking lady,
+and made herself generally useful.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Finally, Madame Pastorale, the
+duenna of the company, was to perform
+the old women, and look after
+the young ones.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Although so few, the company
+trusted to atone by zeal and industry
+for numerical deficiency. It would
+be easy to find, in the capital of the
+Grand Duchy, persons capable of filling
+mute parts, and, in most plays, a
+few unimportant characters might be
+suppressed.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The travellers reached Strasburg
+without adventure worthy of note.
+There Balthasar allowed them six-and-thirty
+hours’ repose, and took advantage
+of the halt to write to the Grand
+Duke Leopold, and inform him of his
+approaching arrival; then they again
+started, crossed the Rhine at Kehl,
+and in thirty days, after traversing
+several small German states, reached
+the frontier of the Grand Duchy of
+Niesenstein, and stopped at a little
+village called Krusthal. From this
+village to the capital the distance was
+only four leagues, but means of conveyance
+were wanting. There was
+but a single stage-coach on that line
+of road; it would not leave Krusthal
+for two days, and it held but six persons.
+No other vehicles were to be
+had; it was necessary to wait, and
+the necessity was anything but pleasant.
+The actors made wry faces at
+the prospect of passing forty-eight
+hours in a wretched village. The
+only persons who easily made up their
+minds to the wearisome delay were
+Delia and Florival. The first singer
+was desperately in love, and the prima
+donna was not insensible to his delicate
+attentions and tender discourse.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Balthasar, the most impatient and
+persevering of all, went out to explore
+the village. In an hour’s time he returned
+in triumph to his friends, in
+a light cart drawn by a strong horse.
+Unfortunately the cart held but two
+persons.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I will set out alone,” said Balthasar.
+“On reaching Karlstadt, I
+will go to the Grand Duke, explain
+our position, and I have no doubt he
+will immediately send carriages to
+convey you to his capital.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>These consolatory words were received
+with loud cheers by the actors.
+The driver, a peasant lad, cracked
+his whip, and the stout Mecklenburg
+horse set out at a small trot. Upon
+the way, Balthasar questioned his
+guide as to the extent, resources, and
+prosperity of the Grand Duchy, but
+could obtain no satisfactory reply:
+the young peasant was profoundly
+ignorant upon all these subjects. The
+four leagues were got over in something
+less than three hours, which is
+rather rapid travelling for Germany.
+It was nearly dark when Balthasar
+entered Karlstadt. The shops were
+shut, and there were few persons in
+the streets: people are early in their
+habits in the happy lands on the
+Rhine’s right bank. Presently the cart
+stopped before a good-sized house.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“You told me to take you to our
+prince’s palace,” said the driver, “and
+here it is.” Balthasar alighted and
+entered the dwelling, unchallenged
+and unimpeded by the sentry who
+passed lazily up and down in its front.
+In the entrance hall the manager met
+a porter, who bowed gravely to him
+as he passed; he walked on and
+passed through an empty anteroom.
+In the first apartment, appropriated
+to gentlemen-in-waiting, aides-de-camp,
+equerries, and other dignitaries
+of various degree, he found nobody;
+in a second saloon, lighted by
+a dim and smoky lamp, was an old
+gentleman, dressed in black, with
+powdered hair, who rose slowly at his
+entrance, looked at him with surprise,
+and inquired his pleasure.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I wish to see his Serene Highness,
+the Grand Duke Leopold,” replied
+Balthasar.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“The prince does not grant audiences
+at this hour,” the old gentleman
+drily answered.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“His Highness expects me,” was
+the confident reply of Balthasar.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“That is another thing. I will inquire
+if it be his Highness’s pleasure
+to receive you. Whom shall I announce?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“The manager of the Court theatre.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The gentleman bowed, and left Balthasar
+alone. The pertinacious manager
+already began to doubt the success
+of his audacity, when he heard
+the Grand Duke’s voice, saying,
+“Show him in.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>He entered. The sovereign of
+Niesenstein was alone, seated in a
+large arm-chair, at a table covered
+with a green cloth, upon which were
+a confused medley of letters and newspapers,
+an inkstand, a tobacco-bag,
+two wax-lights, a sugar-basin, a sword,
+a plate, gloves, a bottle, books, and a
+goblet of Bohemian glass, artistically
+engraved. His Highness was engrossed
+in a thoroughly national occupation;
+he was smoking one of
+those long pipes which Germans
+rarely lay aside except to eat or to
+sleep.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The manager of the Court theatre
+bowed thrice, as if he had been advancing
+to the foot-lights to address
+the public; then he stood still and
+silent, awaiting the prince’s pleasure.
+But, although he said nothing, his
+countenance was so expressive that
+the Grand Duke answered him.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Yes,” he said, “here you are.
+I recollect you perfectly, and I have
+not forgotten our agreement. But
+you come at a very unfortunate moment,
+my dear sir!”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I crave your Highness’s pardon if
+I have chosen an improper hour to
+seek an audience,” replied Balthasar
+with another bow.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“It is not the hour that I am thinking
+of,” answered the prince quickly.
+“Would that were all! See, here is
+your letter; I was just now reading it,
+and regretting that, instead of writing
+to me only three days ago, when you
+were half-way here, you had not done
+so two or three weeks before starting.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I did wrong.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“More so than you think, for, had
+you sooner warned me, I would have
+spared you a useless journey.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Useless!” exclaimed Balthasar
+aghast. “Has your Highness changed
+your mind?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Not at all; I am still passionately
+fond of the drama, and should be delighted
+to have a French theatre here.
+As far as that goes, my ideas and
+tastes are in no way altered since last
+summer; but, unfortunately, I am
+unable to satisfy them. Look here,”
+continued the prince, rising from his
+arm-chair. He took Balthasar’s arm
+and led him to a window: “I told you,
+last year, that I was building a magnificent
+theatre in my capital.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Your Highness did tell me so.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Well, look yonder, on the other
+side of the square; there the theatre
+is!”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Your Highness, I see nothing but
+an open space; a building commenced,
+and as yet scarcely risen
+above the foundation.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Precisely so; that is the theatre.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Your Highness told me it would
+be completed before the end of winter.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I did not then foresee that I should
+have to stop the works for want of
+cash to pay the workmen. Such is
+my present position. If I have no
+theatre ready to receive you, and if I
+cannot take you and your company
+into my pay, it is because I have not
+the means. The coffers of the State
+and my privy purse are alike empty.
+You are astounded!—Adversity respects
+nobody—not even Grand Dukes.
+But I support its assaults with philosophy:
+try to follow my example;
+and, by way of a beginning, take a
+chair and a pipe, fill yourself a glass
+of wine, and drink to the return of my
+prosperity. Since you suffer for my
+misfortunes, I owe you an explanation.
+Although I never had much order in
+my expenditure, I had every reason,
+at the time I first met with you, to
+believe my finances in a flourishing
+condition. It was not until the commencement
+of the present year that I
+discovered the contrary to be the case.
+Last year was a bad one; hail ruined
+our crops and money was hard to get
+in. The salaries of my household were
+in arrear, and my officers murmured.
+For the first time I ordered a statement
+of my affairs to be laid before
+me, and I found that ever since my
+accession I had been exceeding my
+revenue. My first act of sovereignty
+had been a considerable diminution of
+the taxes paid to my predecessors.
+Hence the evil, which had annually
+augmented, and now I am ruined,
+loaded with debts, and without means
+of repairing the disaster. My privy-councillors
+certainly proposed a way;
+it was to double the taxes, raise extraordinary
+contributions—to squeeze
+my subjects, in short. A fine plan,
+indeed! to make the poor pay for my
+improvidence and disorder! Such
+things may occur in other States,
+but they shall not occur in mine. Justice
+before everything. I prefer enduring
+my difficulties to making my
+subjects suffer.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Excellent prince!” exclaimed Balthasar,
+touched by these generous
+sentiments. The Grand Duke smiled.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Do you turn flatterer?” he said.
+“Beware! it is an arduous post, and
+you will have none to help you. I
+have no longer wherewith to pay
+flatterers; my courtiers have fled.
+You have seen the emptiness of my
+anterooms; you met neither chamberlain
+nor equerry upon your entrance.
+All those gentlemen have
+given in their resignations. The civil
+and military officers of my house, secretaries,
+aides-de-camp, and others,
+left me, because I could no longer
+pay them their wages. I am alone;
+a few faithful and patient servants
+are all that remain, and the most important
+personage of my court is now
+honest Sigismund, my old valet-de-chambre.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>These last words were spoken in a
+melancholy tone, which pained Balthasar.
+The eyes of the honest manager
+glistened. The Grand Duke detected
+his sympathy.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Do not pity me,” he said with a
+smile. “It is no sorrow to me to have
+got rid of a wearisome etiquette, and,
+at the same time, of a pack of spies and
+hypocrites, by whom I was formerly
+from morning till night beset.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The cheerful frankness of the Grand
+Duke’s manner forbade doubt of his
+sincerity. Balthasar congratulated
+him on his courage.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I need it more than you think!”
+replied Leopold, “and I cannot answer
+for having enough to support the
+blows that threaten me. The desertion
+of my courtiers would be nothing,
+did I owe it only to the bad state of
+my finances: as soon as I found myself
+in funds again I could buy others
+or take back the old ones, and amuse
+myself by putting my foot upon their
+servile necks. Then they would be as
+humble as now they are insolent. But
+their defection is an omen of other
+dangers. As the diplomatists say
+clouds are at the political horizon.
+Poverty alone would not have sufficed
+to clear my palace of men who are
+as greedy of honours as they are of
+money; they would have waited for
+better days; their vanity would have
+consoled their avarice. If they fled,
+it was because they felt the ground
+shake beneath their feet, and because
+they are in league with my enemies.
+I cannot shut my eyes to impending
+dangers. I am on bad terms with
+Austria; Metternich looks askance at
+me; at Vienna I am considered too
+liberal, too popular: they say that I
+set a bad example; they reproach me
+with cheap government, and with not
+making my subjects sufficiently feel the
+yoke. Thus do they accumulate pretexts
+for playing me a scurvy trick.
+One of my cousins, a colonel in the
+Austrian service, covets my Grand
+Duchy. Although I say <i>grand</i>, it is
+but ten leagues long and eight leagues
+broad; but, such as it is, it suits me;
+I am accustomed to it, I have the
+habit of ruling it, and I should miss
+it were I deprived of it. My cousin
+has the audacity to dispute my incontestible
+rights; this is a mere pretext
+for litigation, but he has carried
+the case before the Aulic Council, and
+notwithstanding the excellence of my
+right I still may lose my cause, for I
+have no money wherewith to enlighten
+my judges. My enemies are powerful,
+treason surrounds me; they try to
+take advantage of my financial embarrassments,
+first to make me bankrupt
+and then to depose me. In this
+critical conjuncture, I should be only
+too delighted to have a company of
+players to divert my thoughts from my
+troubles—but I have neither theatre
+nor money. So it is impossible for
+me to keep you, my dear manager,
+and, believe me, I am as grieved at it
+as you can be. All I can do is to give
+you, out of the little I have left, a
+small indemnity to cover your travelling
+expenses and take you back to
+France. Come and see me to-morrow
+morning; we will settle this matter,
+and you shall take your leave.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Balthasar’s attention and sympathy
+had been so completely engrossed by
+the Grand Duke’s misfortunes, and by
+his revelations of his political and
+financial difficulties, that his own
+troubles had quite gone out of his
+thoughts. When he quitted the palace
+they came back upon him like a
+thunder-cloud. How was he to satisfy
+the actors, whom he had brought two
+hundred leagues away from Paris?
+What could he say to them, how appease
+them? The unhappy manager
+passed a miserable night. At daybreak
+he rose and went out into the
+open air, to calm his agitation and
+seek a mode of extrication from his
+difficulties. During a two hours’
+walk he had abundant time to visit
+every corner of Karlstadt, and to admire
+the beauties of that celebrated
+capital. He found it an elegant town,
+with wide straight streets cutting completely
+across it, so that he could see
+through it at a glance. The houses
+were pretty and uniform, and the
+windows were provided with small indiscreet
+mirrors, which reflected the
+passers-by and transported the street
+into the drawing-room, so that the
+worthy Karlstadters could satisfy their
+curiosity without quitting their easy
+chairs. An innocent recreation, much
+affected by German burghers. As
+regarded trade and manufactures, the
+capital of the Grand Duchy of Niesenstein
+did not seem to be very much
+occupied with either. It was anything
+but a bustling city; luxury had
+made but little progress there; and its
+prosperity was due chiefly to the moderate
+desires and phlegmatic philosophy
+of its inhabitants.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In such a country a company of
+actors had no chance of a livelihood.
+There is nothing for it but to return
+to France, thought Balthasar, after
+making the circuit of the city: then he
+looked at his watch, and, deeming
+the hour suitable, he took the road to
+the palace, which he entered with as
+little ceremony as upon the preceding
+evening. The faithful Sigismund,
+doing duty as gentleman-in-waiting,
+received him as an old acquaintance,
+and forthwith ushered him into the
+Grand Duke’s presence. His Highness
+seemed more depressed than upon
+the previous day. He was pacing
+the room with long strides, his eyes
+cast down, his arms folded. In his
+hand he held papers, whose perusal it
+apparently was that had thus discomposed
+him. For some moments he
+said nothing; then he suddenly stopped
+before Balthasar.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“You find me less calm,” he said,
+“than I was last night. I have just
+received unpleasant news. I am
+heartily sick of these perpetual vexations,
+and gladly would I resign this
+poor sovereignty, this crown of thorns
+they seek to snatch from me, did not
+honour command me to maintain to
+the last my legitimate rights. Yes,”
+vehemently exclaimed the Grand
+Duke, “at this moment a tranquil
+existence is all I covet, and I would
+willingly give up my Grand Duchy,
+my title, my crown, to live quietly at
+Paris, as a private gentleman, upon
+thirty thousand francs a-year.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I believe so, indeed!” cried Balthasar,
+who, in his wildest dreams of
+fortune, had never dared aspire so
+high. His artless exclamation made
+the prince smile. It needed but a
+trifle to dissipate his vexation, and to
+restore that upper current of easy
+good temper which habitually floated
+upon the surface of his character.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“You think,” he gaily cried, “that
+some, in my place, would be satisfied
+with less, and that thirty thousand
+francs a-year, with independence and
+the pleasures of Paris, compose a lot
+more enviable than the government of
+all the Grand Duchies in the world.
+My own experience tells me that you
+are right; for, ten years ago, when I
+was but hereditary prince, I passed
+six months at Paris, rich, independent,
+careless; and memory declares those
+to have been the happiest days of my
+life.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Well! if you were to sell all you
+have, could you not realise that fortune?
+Besides, the cousin, of whom
+you did me the honour to speak to
+me yesterday, would probably gladly
+insure you an income if you yielded
+him your place here. But will your
+Highness permit me to speak plainly?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“By all means.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“The tranquil existence of a private
+gentleman would doubtless have many
+charms for you, and you say so in all
+sincerity of heart; but, upon the other
+hand, you set store by your crown,
+though you may not admit it to yourself.
+In a moment of annoyance it is
+easy to exaggerate the charms of
+tranquillity, and the pleasures of private
+life; but a throne, however rickety,
+is a seat which none willingly
+quit. That is my opinion, formed at
+the dramatic school: it is perhaps a
+reminiscence of some old part, but
+truth is sometimes found upon the
+stage. Since, therefore, all things
+considered, to stay where you are is
+that which best becomes you, you
+ought——But I crave your Highness’s
+pardon, I am perhaps speaking
+too freely——</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Speak on, my dear manager, freely
+and fearlessly; I listen to you with
+pleasure. I ought—you were about
+to say?——”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Instead of abandoning yourself
+to despair and poetry, instead of
+contenting yourself with succumbing
+nobly, like some ancient Roman, you
+ought boldly to combat the peril.
+Circumstances are favourable; you
+have neither ministers nor state-councillors
+to mislead you, and embarrass
+your plans. Strong in your
+good right, and in your subjects’ love,
+it is impossible you should not find
+means of retrieving your finances and
+strengthening your position.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“There is but one means, and that
+is—a good marriage.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Excellent! I had not thought of
+it. You are a bachelor! A good
+marriage is salvation. It is thus that
+great houses, menaced with ruin, regain
+their former splendour. You
+must marry an heiress, the only
+daughter of some rich banker.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“You forget—it would be derogatory.
+<i>I</i> am free from such prejudices,
+but what would Austria say if I thus
+condescended? It would be another
+charge to bring against me. And
+then a banker’s millions would not
+suffice; I must ally myself with a
+powerful family, whose influence will
+strengthen mine. Only a few days
+ago, I thought such an alliance within
+my grasp. A neighbouring prince,
+Maximilian of Hanau, who is in high
+favour at Vienna, has a sister to
+marry. The Princess Wilhelmina is
+young, handsome, amiable, and rich;
+I have already entered upon the preliminaries
+of a matrimonial negotiation,
+but two despatches, received
+this morning, destroy all my hopes.
+Hence the low spirits in which you
+find me.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Perhaps,” said Balthasar, “your
+Highness too easily gives way to discouragement.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Judge for yourself. I have a
+rival, the Elector of Saxe-Tolpelhausen;
+his territories are less considerable
+than mine, but he is more
+solidly established in his little electorate
+than I am in my grand duchy.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Pardon me, your Highness; I
+saw the Elector of Saxe-Tolpelhausen
+last year at Baden-Baden, and, without
+flattery, he cannot for an instant
+be compared with your Highness.
+You are hardly thirty, and he is more
+than forty; you have a good figure,
+he is heavy, clumsy, and ill-made;
+your countenance is noble and agreeable,
+his common and displeasing;
+your hair is light brown, his bright
+red. The Princess Wilhelmina is
+sure to prefer you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Perhaps so, if she were asked;
+but she is in the power of her august
+brother, who will marry her to whom
+he pleases.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“That must be prevented.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“How?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“By winning the young lady’s
+affections. Love has so many resources.
+Every day one sees marriages
+for money broken off, and replaced
+by marriages for love.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Yes, one sees that in plays——”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Which afford excellent lessons.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“For people of a certain class, but
+not for princes.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Why not make the attempt? If
+I dared advise you, it would be to set
+out to-morrow, and pay a visit to the
+Prince of Hanau.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Unnecessary. To see the prince
+and his sister, I need not stir hence.
+One of these despatches announces
+their early arrival at Karlstadt. They
+are on their way hither. On their
+return from a journey into Prussia,
+they pass through my territories and
+pause in my capital, inviting themselves
+as my guests for two or three
+days. Their visit is my ruin. What
+will they think of me when they find
+me alone, deserted, in my empty palace?
+Do you suppose the Princess
+will be tempted to share my dismal
+solitude? Last year she went to Saxe-Tolpelhausen.
+The Elector entertained
+her well, and made his court
+agreeable. <i>He</i> could place chamberlains
+and aides-de-camp at her
+orders, could give concerts, balls, and
+festivals. But I—what can <i>I</i> do?
+What a humiliation! And, that no
+affront may be spared to me, my rival
+proposes negotiating his marriage at
+my own court! Nothing less, it seems,
+will satisfy him! He has just sent
+me an ambassador, Baron Pippinstir,
+deputed, he writes, to conclude a commercial
+treaty which will be extremely
+advantageous to me. The treaty is
+but a pretext. The Baron’s true mission
+is to the Prince of Hanau. The
+meeting is skilfully contrived, for the
+secret and unostentatious conclusion
+of the matrimonial treaty. This is
+what I am condemned to witness! I
+must endure this outrage and mortification,
+and display, before the prince
+and his sister, my misery and poverty.
+I would do anything to avoid such
+shame!”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Means might, perhaps, be found,”
+said Balthasar, after a moment’s reflection.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Means? Speak, and whatever
+they be, I adopt them.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“The plan is a bold one!” continued
+Balthasar, speaking half to the
+Grand Duke and half to himself, as
+if pondering and weighing a project.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“No matter! I will risk everything.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“You would like to conceal your
+real position, to re-people this palace,
+to have a court?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Yes.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Do you think the courtiers who
+have deserted you would return?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Never. Did I not tell you they
+are sold to my enemies.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Could you not select others from
+the higher class of your subjects?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Impossible! There are very few
+gentlemen amongst my subjects. Ah!
+if a court could be got up at a day’s
+notice! though it were to be composed
+of the humblest citizens of
+Karlstadt——”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I have better than that to offer
+you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“<i>You</i> have? And whom do you
+offer?” cried Duke Leopold, greatly
+astonished.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“My actors.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“What! you would have me make
+up a court of your actors?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Yes, your Highness, and you
+could not do better. Observe that
+my actors are accustomed to play all
+manner of parts, and that they will
+be perfectly at their ease when performing
+those of noblemen and high
+officials. I answer for their talent,
+discretion, and probity. As soon as
+your illustrious guests have departed,
+and you no longer need their services,
+they shall resign their posts.
+Bear in mind that you have no other
+alternative. Time is short, danger
+at your door, hesitation is destruction.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“But, if such a trick were discovered!——”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“A mere supposition, a chimerical
+fear. On the other hand, if you do
+not run the risk I propose, your ruin
+is certain.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Grand Duke was easily persuaded.
+Careless and easy-going, he
+yet was not wanting in determination,
+nor in a certain love of hazardous
+enterprises. He remembered that
+fortune is said to favour the bold, and
+his desperate position increased his
+courage. With joyful intrepidity he
+accepted and adopted Balthasar’s
+scheme.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Bravo!” cried the manager;
+“you shall have no cause to repent.
+You behold in me a sample of your
+future courtiers; and since honours
+and dignities are to be distributed, it
+is with me, if you please, that we will
+begin. In this request I act up to the
+spirit of my part. A courtier should
+always be asking for something, should
+lose no opportunity, and should profit
+by his rivals’ absence to obtain the
+best place. I entreat your Highness
+to have the goodness to name me
+prime minister.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Granted!” gaily replied the prince.
+“Your Excellency may immediately
+enter upon your functions.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“My Excellency will not fail to do
+so, and begins by requesting your
+signature to a few decrees I am about
+to draw up. But in the first place,
+your Highness must be so good as to
+answer two or three questions, that I
+may understand the position of affairs.
+A new-comer in a country, and a
+novice in a minister’s office, has need
+of instruction. If it became necessary
+to enforce your commands, have you
+the means of so doing?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Undoubtedly.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Your Highness has soldiers?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“A regiment.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“How many men?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“One hundred and twenty, besides
+the musicians.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Are they obedient, devoted?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Passive obedience, unbounded devotion;
+soldiers and officers would
+die for me to the last man.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“It is their duty. Another question:
+Have you a prison in your dominions?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Certainly.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I mean a good prison, strong and
+well-guarded, with thick walls, solid
+bars, stern and incorruptible jailors?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I have every reason to believe
+that the Castle of Zwingenberg combines
+all those requisites. The fact
+is, I have made very little use of it;
+but it was built by a man who understood
+such matters—by my father’s
+great-grandfather, Rudolph the Inflexible.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“A fine surname for a sovereign!
+Your Inflexible ancestor, I am very
+sure, never lacked either cash or courtiers.
+Your Highness has perhaps
+done wrong to leave the state-prison
+untenanted. A prison requires to be
+inhabited, like any other building;
+and the first act of the authority with
+which you have been pleased to invest
+me, will be a salutary measure
+of incarceration. I presume the Castle
+of Zwingenberg will accommodate a
+score of prisoners?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“What! you are going to imprison
+twenty persons?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“More or less. I do not yet know
+the exact number of the persons who
+composed your late court. They it is
+whom I propose lodging within the
+lofty walls constructed by the Inflexible
+Rudolph. The measure is indispensable.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“But it is illegal!”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I crave your Highness’s pardon;
+you use a word I do not understand.
+It seems to me that, in every good
+German government, that which is
+absolutely necessary is necessarily
+legal. That is my policy. Moreover,
+as prime minister, I am responsible.
+What would you have more? It is
+plain that, if we leave your courtiers
+their liberty, it will be impossible to
+perform our comedy; they will betray
+us. Therefore the welfare of the state
+imperatively demands their imprisonment.
+Besides, you yourself have
+said that they are traitors, and therefore
+they deserve punishment. For
+your own safety’s sake, for the success
+of your project—which will insure the
+happiness of your subjects—write the
+names, sign the order, and inflict upon
+the deserters the lenient chastisement
+of a week’s captivity.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Grand Duke wrote the names
+and signed several orders, which were
+forthwith intrusted to the most active
+and determined officers of the regiment,
+with instructions to make the
+arrests at once, and to take their prisoners
+to the Castle of Zwingenberg,
+at three quarters of a league from
+Karlstadt.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“All that now remains to be done
+is to send for your new court,” said
+Balthasar. “Has your Highness carriages?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Certainly! a berlin, a barouche,
+and a cabriolet.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“And horses?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Six draught and two saddle.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I take the barouche, the berlin,
+and four horses; I go to Krusthal,
+put my actors up to their parts, and
+bring them here this evening. We
+instal ourselves in the palace, and
+shall be at once at your Highness’s
+orders.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Very good; but, before going,
+write an answer to Baron Pippinstir,
+who asks an audience.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Two lines, very dry and official,
+putting him off till to-morrow. We
+must be under arms to receive him....
+Here is the note written,
+but how shall I sign it? The name
+of Balthasar is not very suitable to a
+German Excellency.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“True, you must have another
+name, and a title; I create you Count
+Lipandorf.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Thanks, your Highness. I will
+bear the title nobly, and restore it to
+you faithfully, with my seals of office,
+when the comedy is played out.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Count Lipandorf signed the letter,
+which Sigismund was ordered to take
+to Baron Pippinstir; then he started
+for Krusthal.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Next morning, the Grand Duke
+Leopold held a levee, which was attended
+by all the officers of his new
+court. And as soon as he was dressed
+he received the ladies, with infinite
+grace and affability.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Ladies and officers were attired in
+their most elegant theatrical costumes;
+the Grand Duke appeared greatly
+satisfied with their bearing and manners.
+The first compliments over,
+there came a general distribution of
+titles and offices.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The lover, Florival, was appointed
+aide-de-camp to the Grand Duke,
+colonel of hussars, and Count Reinsberg.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Rigolet, the low comedian, was
+named grand chamberlain, and Baron
+Fidibus.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Similor, who performed the valets,
+was master of the horse and Baron
+Kockemburg.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Anselmo, walking gentleman, was
+promoted to be gentleman-in-waiting
+and Chevalier Grillenfanger.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The leader of the band, Lebel, was
+appointed superintendant of the music
+and amusements of the court, with
+the title of Chevalier Arpeggio.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The prima donna, Miss Delia, was
+created Countess of Rosenthal, an interesting
+orphan, whose dowry was to
+be the hereditary office of first lady of
+honour to the future Grand Duchess.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Miss Foligny, the singing chambermaid,
+was appointed widow of a general
+and Baroness Allenzau.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Miss Alice, walking lady, became
+Miss Fidibus, daughter of the chamberlain,
+and a rich heiress.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Finally, the duenna, Madame Pastorale,
+was called to the responsible
+station of mistress of the robes and
+governess of the maids of honour,
+under the imposing title of Baroness
+Schicklick.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The new dignitaries received decorations
+in proportion to their rank.
+Count Balthasar von Lipandorf, prime
+minister, had two stars and three grand
+crosses. The aide-de-camp, Florival
+von Reinsberg, fastened five crosses
+upon the breast of his hussar jacket.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The parts duly distributed and
+learned, there was a rehearsal, which
+went off excellently well. The Grand
+Duke deigned to superintend the getting
+up of the piece, and to give the
+actors a few useful hints.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Prince Maximilian of Hanau and
+his august sister were expected that
+evening. Time was precious. Pending
+their arrival, and by way of practising
+his court, the Grand Duke gave
+audience to the ambassador from
+Saxe-Tolpelhausen.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Baron Pippinstir was ushered into
+the Hall of the Throne. He had asked
+permission to present his wife at the
+same time as his credentials, and that
+favour had been granted him.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At sight of the diplomatist, the new
+courtiers, as yet unaccustomed to rigid
+decorum, had difficulty in keeping their
+countenances. The Baron was a man
+of fifty, prodigiously tall, singularly
+thin, abundantly powdered, with legs
+like hop-poles, clad in knee breeches
+and white silk stockings. A long
+slender pigtail danced upon his flexible
+back. He had a face like a bird of
+prey—little round eyes, a receding
+chin, and an enormous hooked nose.
+It was scarcely possible to look at him
+without laughing, especially when one
+saw him for the first time. His apple-green
+coat glittered with a profusion
+of embroidery. His chest being too
+narrow to admit of a horizontal development
+of his decorations, he wore
+them in two columns, extending from
+his collar to his waist. When he approached
+the Grand Duke, with a self-satisfied
+simper and a jaunty air, his
+sword by his side, his cocked hat under
+his arm, nothing was wanting to
+complete the caricature.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Baroness Pippinstir was a
+total contrast to her husband. She
+was a pretty little woman of five-and-twenty,
+as plump as a partridge, with
+a lively eye, a nice figure, and an engaging
+smile. There was mischief in
+her glance, seduction in her dimples
+and the rose’s tint upon her cheeks.
+Her dress was the only ridiculous
+thing about her. To come to court,
+the little Baroness had put on all the
+finery she could muster; she sailed
+into the hall under a cloud of ribbons,
+sparkling with jewels and fluttering
+with plumes—the loftiest of which,
+however, scarcely reached to the
+shoulder of her lanky spouse.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Completely identifying himself with
+his part of prime minister, Balthasar,
+as soon as this oddly-assorted pair
+appeared, decided upon his plan of
+campaign. His natural penetration
+told him the diplomatist’s weak point.
+He felt that the Baron, who was old
+and ugly, must be jealous of his wife,
+who was young and pretty. He was
+not mistaken. Pippinstir was as
+jealous as a tiger-cat. Recently married,
+the meagre diplomatist had not
+dared to leave his wife at Saxe-Tolpelhausen,
+for fear of accidents; he
+would not lose sight of her, and had
+brought her to Karlstadt in the arrogant
+belief that danger vanished in
+his presence.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>After exchanging a few diplomatic
+phrases with the ambassador, Balthasar
+took Colonel Florival aside
+and gave him secret instructions. The
+dashing officer passed his hand through
+his richly-curling locks, adjusted his
+splendid pelisse, and approached Baroness
+Pippinstir. The ambassadress
+received him graciously; the handsome
+colonel had already attracted her
+attention, and soon she was delighted
+with his wit and gallant speeches.
+Florival did not lack imagination,
+and his memory was stored with well-turned
+phrases and sentimental tirades,
+borrowed from stage-plays. He spoke
+half from inspiration, half from memory,
+and he was listened to with
+favour.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The conversation was carried on in
+French—for the best of reasons.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“It is the custom here,” said the
+Grand Duke to the ambassador;
+“French is the only language spoken
+in this palace; it is a regulation I had
+some difficulty in enforcing, and I was
+at last obliged to decree that a heavy
+penalty should be paid for every German
+word spoken by a person attached
+to my court. That proved effectual,
+and you will not easily catch any of
+these ladies and gentlemen tripping.
+My prime minister, Count Balthasar
+von Lipandorf, is the only one who is
+permitted occasionally to speak his
+native language.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Balthasar, who had long managed
+theatres in Alsace and Lorraine, spoke
+German like a Frankfort brewer.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Meanwhile, Baron Pippinstir’s uneasiness
+was extreme. Whilst his wife
+conversed in a low voice with the
+young and fascinating aide-de-camp,
+the pitiless prime minister held his
+arm tight, and explained at great
+length his views with respect to the
+famous commercial treaty. Caught
+in his own snare, the unlucky diplomatist
+was in agony; he fidgeted to
+get away, his countenance expressed
+grievous uneasiness, his lean legs were
+convulsively agitated. But in vain
+did he endeavour to abridge his torments;
+the remorseless Balthasar relinquished
+not his prey.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Sigismund, promoted to be steward
+of the household, announced dinner.
+The ambassador and his lady had
+been invited to dine, as well as all the
+courtiers.  The aide-de-camp was
+placed next to the Baroness, the Baron
+at the other end of the table.
+The torture was prolonged. Florival
+continued to whisper soft nonsense to
+the fair and well-pleased Pippinstir.
+The diplomatist could not eat.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There was another person present
+whom Florival’s flirtation annoyed,
+and that person was Delia, Countess
+of Rosenthal. After dinner, Balthasar,
+whom nothing escaped, took her
+aside.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“You know very well,” said the
+minister, “that he is only acting a
+part in a comedy. Should you feel
+hurt if he declared his love upon the
+stage, to one of your comrades?
+Here it is the same thing; all this is
+but a play; when the curtain falls, he
+will return to you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A courier announced that the Prince
+of Hanau and his sister were within a
+league of Karlstadt. The Grand Duke,
+attended by Count Reinsberg and
+some officers, went to meet them. It
+was dark when the illustrious guests
+reached the palace; they passed
+through the great saloon, where the
+whole court was assembled to receive
+them, and retired at once to their
+apartments.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“The game is fairly begun,” said
+the Grand Duke to his prime minister;
+“and now, may Heaven help
+us!”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Fear nothing,” replied Balthasar.
+“The glimpse I caught of Prince
+Maximilian’s physiognomy satisfied
+me that everything will pass off perfectly
+well, and without exciting the
+least suspicion. As to Baron Pippinstir,
+he is already blind with jealousy,
+and Florival will give him so much to
+do, that he will have no time to attend
+to his master’s business. Things look
+well.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Next morning, the Prince and
+Princess of Hanau were welcomed,
+on awakening, by a serenade from
+the regimental band. The weather
+was beautiful; the Grand Duke proposed
+an excursion out of town; he
+was glad of an opportunity to show
+his guests the best features of his
+duchy—a delightful country, and
+many picturesque points of view,
+much prized and sketched by German
+landscape-painters. The proposal
+agreed to, the party set out, in carriages
+and on horseback, for the old
+Castle of Rauberzell—magnificent
+ruins, dating from the middle ages,
+and famous far and wide. At a short
+distance from the castle, which lifted
+its grey turrets upon the summit of a
+wooded hill, the Princess Wilhelmina
+expressed a wish to walk the remainder
+of the way. Everybody followed
+her example. The Grand Duke offered
+her his arm; the Prince gave his to
+the Countess Delia von Rosenthal;
+and, at a sign from Balthasar, Baroness
+Pastorale von Schicklick took
+possession of Baron Pippinstir; whilst
+the smiling Baroness accepted Florival’s
+escort. The young people walked
+at a brisk pace. The unfortunate
+Baron would gladly have availed of
+his long legs to keep up with his coquettish
+wife; but the duenna, portly
+and ponderous, hung upon his arm,
+checked his ardour, and detained him
+in the rear. Respect for the mistress
+of the robes forbade rebellion or complaint.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Amidst the ruins of the venerable
+castle, the distinguished party found
+a table spread with an elegant collation.
+It was an agreeable surprise,
+and the Grand Duke had all the credit
+of an idea suggested to him by his
+prime minister.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The whole day was passed in rambling
+through the beautiful forest of
+Rauberzell. The Princess was charming;
+nothing could exceed the high
+breeding of the courtiers, or the fascination
+and elegance of the ladies;
+and Prince Maximilian warmly congratulated
+the Grand Duke on having
+a court composed of such agreeable
+and accomplished persons. Baroness
+Pippinstir declared, in a moment of
+enthusiasm, that the court of Saxe-Tolpelhausen
+was not to compare
+with that of Niesenstein. She could
+hardly have said anything more completely
+at variance with the object of
+her husband’s mission. The Baron
+was near fainting.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Like not a few of her countrywomen,
+the Princess Wilhelmina had
+a strong predilection for Parisian fashions.
+She admired everything that
+came from France; she spoke French
+perfectly, and greatly approved the
+Grand Duke’s decree, forbidding any
+other language to be spoken at his
+court. Moreover, there was nothing
+extraordinary in such a regulation;
+French is the language of all the
+northern courts. But she was greatly
+tickled at the notion of a fine being
+inflicted for a single German word.
+She amused herself by trying to catch
+some of the Grand Duke’s courtiers
+transgressing in this respect. Her
+labour was completely lost.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>That evening, at the palace, when
+conversation began to languish, the
+Chevalier Arpeggio sat down to the
+piano, and the Countess Delia von
+Rosenthal sang an air out of the last
+new opera. The guests were enchanted
+with her performance. Prince
+Maximilian had been extremely attentive
+to the Countess during their
+excursion; the young actress’s grace
+and beauty had captivated him, and
+the charm of her voice completed his
+subjugation. Passionately fond of
+music, every note she sang went to
+his very heart. When she had finished
+one song, he petitioned for another.
+The amiable prima donna sang a duet
+with the aide-de-camp Florival von
+Reinsberg, and then, being further
+entreated, a trio, in which Similor—master
+of the horse, barytone, and
+Baron von Kockemburg—took a part.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Here our actors were at home, and
+their success was complete. Deviating
+from his usual reserve, Prince
+Maximilian did not disguise his delight;
+and the imprudent little Baroness
+Pippinstir declared that, with
+such a beautiful tenor voice, an aide-de-camp
+might aspire to anything.
+A cemetery on a wet day is a cheerful
+sight, compared to the Baron’s
+countenance when he heard these
+words.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Upon the morrow, a hunting party
+was the order of the day. In the
+evening there was a dance. It had
+been proposed to invite the principal
+families of the metropolis of Niesenstein,
+but the Prince and Princess
+begged that the circle might not be
+increased.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“We are four ladies,” said the
+Princess, glancing at the prima donna,
+the singing chambermaid, and the
+walking lady, “it is enough for a
+quadrille.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There was no lack of gentlemen.
+There was the Grand Duke, the aide-de-camp,
+the grand chamberlain, the
+master of the horse, the gentleman-in-waiting,
+and Prince Maximilian’s
+aide-de-camp, Count Darius von
+Sturmhaube, who appeared greatly
+smitten by the charms of the widowed
+Baroness Allenzau.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I am sorry my court is not more
+numerous,” said the Grand Duke,
+“but, within the last three days, I
+have been compelled to diminish it by
+one half.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“How so?” inquired Prince Maximilian.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“A dozen courtiers,” replied the
+Grand Duke Leopold, “whom I had
+loaded with favours, dared conspire
+against me, in favour of a certain
+cousin of mine at Vienna. I discovered
+the plot, and the plotters are
+now in the dungeons of my good fortress
+of Zwingenberg.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Well done!” cried the Prince;
+“I like such energy and vigour. And
+to think that people taxed you with
+weakness of character! How we
+princes are deceived and calumniated.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Grand Duke cast a grateful
+glance at Balthasar. That able minister
+by this time felt himself as much
+at his ease in his new office as if he
+had held it all his life; he even began
+to suspect that the government of a
+grand duchy is a much easier matter
+than the management of a company
+of actors. Incessantly engrossed by
+his master’s interests, he manœuvred
+to bring about the marriage which
+was to give the Grand Duke happiness,
+wealth, and safety; but, notwithstanding
+his skill, notwithstanding
+the torments with which he had
+filled the jealous soul of Pippinstir,
+the ambassador devoted the scanty
+moments of repose his wife left him
+to furthering the object of his mission.
+The alliance with the Saxe-Tolpelhausen
+was pleasing to Prince Maximilian;
+it offered him various advantages:
+the extinction of an old lawsuit
+between the two states, the
+cession of a large extent of territory,
+and, finally, the commercial treaty,
+which the perfidious Baron had
+brought to the court of Niesenstein,
+with a view of concluding it in favour
+of the principality of Hanau. Invested
+with unlimited powers, the
+diplomatist was ready to insert in
+the contract almost any conditions
+Prince Maximilian chose to dictate
+to him.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is necessary here to remark that
+the Elector of Saxe-Tolpelhausen was
+desperately in love with the Princess
+Wilhelmina.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It was evident that the Baron
+would carry the day, if the prime
+minister did not hit upon some scheme
+to destroy his credit or force him to
+retreat. Balthasar, fertile in expedients,
+was teaching Florival his part
+in the palace garden, when Prince
+Maximilian met him, and requested a
+moment’s private conversation.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I am at your Highness’s orders,”
+respectfully replied the minister.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I will go straight to the point,
+Count Lipandorf,” the Prince began.
+“I married my late wife, a princess
+of Hesse-Darmstadt, from political
+motives. She has left me three sons.
+I now intend to marry again; but
+this time I need not sacrifice myself
+to state considerations, and I am
+determined to consult my heart
+alone.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“If your Highness does me the
+honour to consult <i>me</i>, I have merely
+to say that you are perfectly justified
+in acting as you propose. After once
+sacrificing himself to his people’s happiness,
+a prince has surely a right to
+think a little of his own.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Exactly my opinion! Count, I
+will tell you a secret. I am in love
+with Miss von Rosenthal.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Miss Delia?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Yes, sir; with Miss Delia, Countess
+of Rosenthal; and, what is more,
+I will tell you that <i>I know everything</i>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“What may it be that your Highness
+knows?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I know who she is.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Ha!”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“It was a great secret!”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“And how came your Highness to
+discover it?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“The Grand Duke revealed it to
+me.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I might have guessed as much!”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“He alone could do so, and I rejoice
+that I addressed myself directly
+to him. At first, when I questioned
+him concerning the young Countess’s
+family, he ill concealed his embarrassment:
+her position struck me as
+strange; young, beautiful, and alone
+in the world, without relatives or
+guardians—all that seemed to me singular,
+if not suspicious. I trembled,
+as the possibility of an intrigue flashed
+upon me; but the Grand Duke, to
+dissipate my unfounded suspicion,
+told me all.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“And what is your Highness’s decision?...
+After such a revelation”—</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“It in no way changes my intentions.
+I shall marry the lady.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Marry her?... But no; your
+Highness jests.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Count Lipandorf, I never jest.
+What is there, then, so strange in my
+determination. The Grand Duke’s
+father was romantic, and of a roving
+disposition; in the course of his life
+he contracted several left-handed
+alliances—Miss von Rosenthal is the
+issue of one of those unions. I care
+not for the illegitimacy of her birth;
+she is of noble blood, of a princely
+race—that is all I require.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Yes,” replied Balthasar, who had
+concealed his surprise and kept his
+countenance, as became an experienced
+statesman and consummate
+comedian. “Yes, I now understand;
+and I think as you do. Your Highness
+has the talent of bringing everybody
+over to your way of thinking.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“The greatest piece of good fortune,”
+continued the Prince, “is that
+the mother remained unknown: she
+is dead, and there is no trace of family
+on that side.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“As your Highness says, it is very
+fortunate. And doubtless the Grand
+Duke is informed of your august intentions
+with respect to the proposed
+marriage?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“No; I have as yet said nothing
+either to him or to the Countess. I
+reckon upon you, my dear Count, to
+make my offer, to whose acceptance
+I trust there will not be the slightest
+obstacle. I give you the rest of the
+day to arrange everything. I will
+write to Miss von Rosenthal; I hope
+to receive from her own lips the assurance
+of my happiness, and I will beg
+her to bring me her answer herself,
+this evening, in the summerhouse in
+the park. Lover-like, you see—a rendezvous,
+a mysterious interview! But
+come, Count Lipandorf, lose no time;
+a double tie shall bind me to your
+sovereign. We will sign, at one and
+the same time, my marriage-contract
+and his. On that condition alone will
+I grant him my sister’s hand; otherwise
+I treat, this very evening, with
+the envoy from Saxe-Tolpelhausen.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A quarter of an hour after Prince
+Maximilian had made this overture,
+Balthasar and Delia were closeted
+with the Grand Duke.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>What was to be done? The Prince
+of Hanau was noted for his obstinacy.
+He would have excellent reasons to
+oppose to all objections. To confess
+the deception that had been practised
+upon him was equivalent to a total
+and eternal rupture. But, upon the
+other hand, to leave him in his error,
+to suffer him to marry an actress!
+it was a serious matter. If ever he
+discovered the truth, it would be
+enough to raise the entire German
+Confederation against the Grand
+Duke of Niesenstein.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“What is my prime minister’s
+opinion?” asked the Grand Duke.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“A prompt retreat. Delia must
+instantly quit the town; we will devise
+an explanation of her sudden departure.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Yes; and this evening Prince
+Maximilian will sign his sister’s marriage-contract
+with the Elector of
+Saxe-Tolpelhausen. My opinion is,
+that we have advanced too far to retreat.
+If the prince ever discovers the
+truth, he will be the person most interested
+to conceal it. Besides, Miss
+Delia is an orphan—she has neither
+parents nor family. I adopt her—I
+acknowledge her as my sister.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Your Highness’s goodness and
+condescension——” lisped the pretty
+prima donna.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“You agree with me, do you not,
+Miss Delia?” continued the Grand
+Duke. “You are resolved to seize
+the good fortune thus offered, and to
+risk the consequences?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Yes, your Highness.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The ladies will make allowance for
+Delia’s faithlessness to Florival. How
+few female heads would not be turned
+by the prospect of wearing a crown!
+The heart’s voice is sometimes mute
+in presence of such brilliant temptations.
+Besides, was not Florival faithless?
+Who could say whither he might
+be led in the course of the tender
+scenes he acted with the Baroness
+Pippinstir? Prince Maximilian was
+neither young nor handsome, but he
+offered a throne. Not only an actress,
+but many a high-born dame, might
+possibly, in such circumstances, forget
+her love, and think only of her ambition.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>To her credit be it said, Delia did
+not yield without some reluctance to
+the Grand Duke’s arguments, which
+Balthasar backed with all his eloquence;
+but she ended by agreeing
+to the interview with Prince Maximilian.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I accept,” she resolutely exclaimed;
+“I shall be Sovereign Princess
+of Hanau.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“And I,” cried the Grand Duke,
+“shall marry Princess Wilhelmina,
+and, this very evening, poor Pippinstir,
+disconcerted and defeated, will
+go back to Saxe-Tolpelhausen.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“He would have done that in any
+case,” said Balthasar; “for, this
+evening, Florival was to have run
+away with his wife.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“That is carrying things rather
+far,” Delia remarked.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Such a scandal is unnecessary,”
+added the Grand Duke.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Whilst awaiting the hour of her
+rendezvous with the prince, Delia,
+pensive and agitated, was walking in
+the park, when she came suddenly
+upon Florival, who seemed as much
+discomposed as herself. In spite of
+her newly-born ideas of grandeur, she
+felt a pain at her heart. With a forced
+smile, and in a tone of reproach
+and irony, she greeted her former
+lover.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“A pleasant journey to you, Colonel
+Florival,” she said.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I may wish you the same,” replied
+Florival; “for doubtless you
+will soon set out for the principality
+of Hanau!”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Before long, no doubt.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“You admit it, then?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Where is the harm? The wife
+must follow her husband—a princess
+must reign in her dominions.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Princess! What do you mean?
+Wife! In what ridiculous promises
+have they induced you to confide?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Florival’s offensive doubts were dissipated
+by the formal explanation
+which Delia took malicious pleasure
+in giving him. A touching scene ensued;
+the lovers, who had both gone
+astray for a moment, felt their former
+flame burn all the more ardently for
+its partial and temporary extinction.
+Pardon was mutually asked and
+granted, and ambitious dreams fled
+before a burst of affection.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“You shall see whether I love you
+or not,” said Florival to Delia. “Yonder
+comes Baron Pippinstir; I will
+take him into the summerhouse; a
+closet is there, where you can hide
+yourself to hear what passes, and then
+you shall decide my fate.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Delia went into the summerhouse,
+and hid herself in the closet. There
+she overheard the following conversation:—</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“What have you to say to me,
+Colonel?” asked the Baron.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I wish to speak to your Excellency
+of an affair that deeply concerns
+you.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I am all attention; but I beg you
+to be brief; I am expected elsewhere.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“So am I.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I must go to the prime minister,
+to return him this draught of a commercial
+treaty, which I cannot accept.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“And I must go to the rendezvous
+given me in this letter.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“The Baroness’s writing!”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Yes, Baron. Your wife has done
+me the honour to write to me. We
+set out together to-night; the Baroness
+is waiting for me in a post-chaise.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“And it is to me you dare acknowledge
+this abominable project?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I am less generous than you think.
+You cannot but be aware that, owing
+to an irregularity in your marriage-contract,
+nothing would be easier than
+to get it annulled. This we will
+have done; we then obtain a divorce,
+and I marry the Baroness. You will,
+of course, have to hand me over her
+dowry—a million of florins—composing,
+if I do not mistake, your entire
+fortune.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Baron, more dead than alive,
+sank into an arm-chair. He was
+struck speechless.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“We might, perhaps, make some
+arrangement, Baron,” continued Florival.
+“I am not particularly bent
+upon becoming your wife’s second
+husband.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Ah, sir!” cried the ambassador,
+“you restore me to life!”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Yes, but I will not restore you
+the Baroness, except on certain conditions.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Speak! What do you demand?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“First, that treaty of commerce,
+which you must sign just as Count
+Lipandorf has drawn it up.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I consent to do so.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“That is not all: you shall take
+my place at the rendezvous, get into
+the post-chaise, and run away with
+your wife; but first you must sit down
+at this table and write a letter, in due
+diplomatic form, to Prince Maximilian,
+informing him that, finding it
+impossible to accept his stipulations,
+you are compelled to decline, in your
+sovereign’s name, the honour of his
+august alliance.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“But, Colonel, remember that my
+instructions——”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Very well, fulfil them exactly;
+be a dutiful ambassador and a miserable
+husband, ruined, without wife
+and without dowry. You will never
+have such another chance, Baron! A
+pretty wife and a million of florins do
+not fall to a man’s lot twice in his life.
+But I must take my leave of you. I
+am keeping the Baroness waiting.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I will go to her.... Give me
+paper, a pen, and be so good as to
+dictate. I am so agitated——”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Baron really was in a dreadful
+fluster. The letter written, and the
+treaty signed, Florival told his Excellency
+where he would find the post-chaise.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“One thing more you must promise
+me,” said the young man, “and that
+is, that you will behave like a gentleman
+to your wife, and not scold her
+over-much. Remember the flaw in the
+contract. She may find somebody
+else in whose favour to cancel the document.
+Suitors will not be wanting.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“What need of a promise?” replied
+the poor Baron. “You know
+very well that my wife does what she
+likes with me? I shall have to explain
+my conduct, and ask her pardon.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Pippinstir departed. Delia left her
+hiding-place, and held out her hand
+to Florival.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“You have behaved well,” she said.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“That is more than the Baroness
+will say.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“She deserves the lesson. It is
+your turn to go into the closet and
+listen; the Prince will be here
+directly.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I hear his footsteps.” And Florival
+was quickly concealed.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Charming Countess!” said the
+prince on entering, “I come to know
+my fate.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“What does your Highness mean?”
+said Delia, pretending not to understand
+him.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“How can you ask? Has not the
+Grand Duke spoken to you?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“No, your Highness.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Nor the prime minister?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Not a word. When I received
+your letter, I was on the point of asking
+you for a private interview. I
+have a favour—a service—to implore
+of your Highness.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“It is granted before it is asked.
+I place my whole influence and power
+at your feet, charming Countess!”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“A thousand thanks, illustrious
+prince. You have already shown me
+so much kindness, that I venture to
+ask you to make a communication to
+my brother, the Grand Duke, which I
+dare not make myself. I want you
+to inform him that I have been for
+three months privately married to
+Count Reinsberg.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Good heavens!” cried Maximilian,
+falling into the arm-chair in
+which Pippinstir had recently reclined.
+On recovering from the shock, the
+prince rose again to his feet.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“’Tis well, madam,” he said, in a
+faint voice. “’Tis well!”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>And he left the summerhouse.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>After reading Baron Pippinstir’s
+letter, Prince Maximilian fell a-thinking.
+It was not the Grand Duke’s
+fault if the Countess of Rosenthal did
+not ascend the throne of Hanau.
+There was an insurmountable obstacle.
+Then the precipitate departure
+of the ambassador of Saxe-Tolpelhausen
+was an affront which demanded
+instant vengeance. And the Grand
+Duke Leopold was a most estimable
+sovereign, skilful, energetic, and blessed
+with wise councillors; the Princess
+Wilhelmina liked him, and thought
+nothing could compare, for pleasantness,
+with his lively court, where all
+the men were amiable, and all the
+women charming. These various motives
+duly weighed, the Prince made
+up his mind, and next day was signed
+the marriage-contract of the Grand
+Duke of Niesenstein and the Princess
+Wilhelmina of Hanau.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Three days later the marriage itself
+was celebrated.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The play was played out.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The actors had performed their parts
+with wit, intelligence, and a noble
+disinterestedness. They took their
+leave of the Grand Duke, leaving him
+with a rich and pretty wife, a powerful
+brother-in-law, a serviceable alliance,
+and a commercial treaty which
+could not fail to replenish his treasury.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Embassies, special missions, banishment,
+were alleged to the Grand
+Duchess as the causes of their departure.
+Then an amnesty was published
+on the occasion of the marriage;
+the gates of the fortress of Zwingenberg
+opened, and the former courtiers
+resumed their respective posts.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The reviving fortunes of the Grand
+Duke were a sure guarantee of their
+fidelity.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_342'>342</span>
+  <h2 class='c002'>LADY LEE’S WIDOWHOOD.</h2>
+</div>
+<h3 class='c012'>PART IX.—CHAP. XLIII.</h3>
+
+<p class='c013'>A short time after the loss of poor
+Julius, Bagot had gone to town without
+seeing Lady Lee in the interval.
+The night of his arrival he wrote a
+note to Seager, desiring that gentleman
+to come to him in the morning.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Seager came about ten o’clock to
+the lodgings occupied by Bagot, expecting
+to find him up and dressed.
+As he was not in the sitting-room,
+Seager proceeded up-stairs to his bedroom.
+He was met at the head of
+the stairs by Wilson, the Colonel’s
+servant, who told him he feared his
+master was ill. “He had been talking
+queer,” Wilson said,—“very queer.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Seager entered the bedroom. The
+Colonel was in bed, and did not look
+ill, but his friend observed that he
+cast a peculiar hurried anxious glance
+at the door as he entered. He went
+up to him, shook hands, congratulated
+him on the late event, and then seated
+himself on the side of the bed.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“What makes you so late in bed?”
+asked Seager; “keeping it up late last
+night, eh?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“No,” said Bagot, “no. I want
+to get up—but how can I, you know,
+with these people in the room?” (casting
+a quick nervous glance towards a
+corner of the apartment.)</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Very odd,” thought Seager, following
+the direction of the Colonel’s
+eyes, and seeing no one. “He hasn’t
+lost his wits, I hope. A little feverish,
+perhaps. I’m afraid you’re out of
+sorts, Lee,” he said. “You don’t look
+well.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Quite well,” said Bagot; “never
+better. I’ll get up in a minute, my
+good fellow, as soon as they’re gone.
+Couldn’t you”—(in an under tone),—“couldn’t
+you get ’em to go?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Who?” inquired Seager, again
+following the glance the Colonel cast
+towards the same part of the room.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Who!” cried Bagot; “why, that
+tea-party there. They’ve been drinking
+tea the whole morning—two women
+and a man.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“By Jove, he’s mad,” thought Seager
+to himself—“mad as a March
+hare.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I’ve asked ’em as civilly as I
+could to go away,” said Bagot, “but
+they don’t mind that. It’s very curious,
+too, where they got the tea, for
+I don’t take much of it. Fancy them
+coming to me for tea, eh?” said Bagot.
+“Absurd, you know.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Why, ’tis rather a good joke,”
+said Seager, affecting to laugh, but in
+great consternation. Since reading
+the accident to the poor little Baronet
+in the papers, he had counted on Bagot
+as the source from whence all
+the funds required for the conduct of
+the coming trial (without mentioning
+other more immediate wants) were to
+be supplied. And here was the Colonel
+evidently out of his mind—unfit,
+perhaps, to transact even so simple a
+business as drawing money.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Have you got much money in the
+house, Lee?” asked Seager presently.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Money,” said Bagot, who seemed
+to answer some questions rationally
+enough; “no, I don’t think I have;
+I’m going to draw some as soon as
+I’ve seen my lawyer.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Just so,” said Seager, “and the
+sooner the better. Where’s your
+check-book? Just sign your name,
+and I’ll fill it up. We must have
+some funds to carry on the war. The
+trial comes on the beginning of next
+month, and there’s a great deal to be
+done beforehand.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Ah, that cursed trial!” said the
+Colonel, grinding his teeth; “but I’ve
+been thinking it over, Seager, and it’s
+my belief that, if we bribe the Crown
+lawyers high enough, we may get
+’em to lay the indictment for <i>manslaughter</i>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Manslaughter!” repeated Seager
+to himself, as he took the check-book
+from Bagot’s writing-desk. “Oh, by
+Jove, he’s stark staring! Now, old
+fellow,” he continued, coming to the
+bedside with the inkstand and check-book,
+“here you are. Just take the
+pen and write your name here. I’ll
+fill it up afterwards.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Bagot took the pen, and tried to
+write his name as Seager directed; but
+his hand shook so that he could not,
+and after an attempt or two, he threw
+the pen from him.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Come, try once more, and I’ll
+guide your hand,” said Seager. But
+Bagot refused so testily that he did
+not press him.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Do you know,” said Seager presently,
+puzzled at Bagot’s extraordinary
+demeanour, “I don’t think you’re
+half awake yet, Lee. You’ve been
+dreaming, haven’t you?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Not a bit,” said Bagot; “I didn’t
+sleep a wink all night.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I wonder if that’s true?” thought
+Seager. “You don’t see the tea-party
+now, do you?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Bagot, as if suddenly recollecting
+them, looked quickly towards the corner
+where he had fancied them seated.
+“No,” said he, with a kind of doubtful
+pleasure; “they’re gone—gone, by
+Jove!” Then, raising himself on his
+elbow, he cast a searching glance all
+round the room, and at last behind
+his bed, when he started, and, falling
+back aghast on his pillow, muttered,
+“There they are behind the curtains,
+drinking tea as hard as ever, <i>and
+they’ve got a little boy with ’em now</i>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Ah,” said Seager, humouring him,
+“what’s the boy like?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I could only see his back,” answered
+Bagot, in a whisper, “but I
+wouldn’t look again for the world,”
+(shuddering, and turning his face
+away.)</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Seager now went to the door, and,
+calling Wilson, desired him to fetch a
+physician who lived in the street, to
+see his master.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The physician, a brisk man, of few
+years, considering his eminence, and
+who piqued himself on suiting his tone
+to that of his patients and their friends,
+soon arrived. He came in jauntily,
+asked Bagot how he was, heard all
+about the intrusive tea-party, felt his
+pulse, looked at him attentively, and
+then took Seager aside.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“The Colonel, now, isn’t the most
+abstemious man in the world, is he?”
+he inquired, with a jocular air.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“No, by Gad,” said Mr Seager;
+“he’s a pretty hard liver.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Drinks pretty freely, eh? Wine?—brandy?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“More than I should like to,” replied
+Seager. “I’ve often told him
+he’d have to pull up some day.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Ah, yes, he’ll have to”—said the
+other nodding. “He’s got delirium
+tremens.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Has he, by Jove!” exclaimed
+Seager—adding, with an oath, “what
+a fool I was, that it never occurred to
+me, knowing him as I do.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“The attack’s just beginning now,
+and promises to be violent,” said the
+doctor.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“What—you think ’twill go hard
+with him, eh?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The physician said, “Perhaps it
+might; ’twas impossible to say; however,”
+he added, “you won’t be long
+in suspense—a few days will settle the
+matter.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Come, that’s a comfort,” said Seager,
+remembering how important it
+was that Bagot should be able to exert
+himself before the trial. “Poor
+devil,” he added, “what a pity—just
+come into a fine property!”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Well, well, we’ll try to keep him
+in possession,” said the doctor. “I’ll
+leave a prescription, and look in again
+shortly.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“By the by,” said Seager, detaining
+him, “people who’ve got this complaint
+sometimes talk confounded stuff,
+don’t they?” The doctor said they did.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“And let out secrets about their
+own affairs, and other people’s?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Possibly they might,” the doctor
+said—“their delusions were various,
+and often mixed strangely with truth.
+I’ve heard patients,” he added, “in
+this state talk about private matters,
+and therefore it may be as well to let
+no strangers come about him, if you
+can avoid it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Seager thought the advice good,
+and assured the doctor that he would
+look after him himself. Accordingly,
+he sent to his own lodgings for a supply
+of necessaries, and established
+himself as Bagot’s attendant.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In this capacity Mr Seager’s energy
+and vigilant habits enabled him to act
+with great effect; in fact, if he had
+been the poor Colonel’s warmly-attached
+brother, he could not have
+taken better care of him. He administered
+his medicine, which there was
+no difficulty in getting him to take, as
+it consisted principally of large doses
+of brandy: he held him down, with
+Wilson’s assistance, in his violent fits,
+and humoured the strange hallucinations
+which now began to crowd upon
+him thick and fast.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Some of these Mr Seager found rather
+diverting, especially an attendant
+imp which Bagot conceived was perpetually
+hovering about the bed, and
+in whose motions he took vast interest.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Take care,” said Bagot, starting
+up in bed on one occasion as Seager
+approached him; “mind, mind! you’ll
+tread on him.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Tread on what?” said Seager,
+looking down, deceived by the earnestness
+of the appeal.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Why the little devil—poor little
+fellow, don’t hurt him. You’ve no
+idea how lively he is. I wouldn’t have
+him injured,” added Bagot tenderly,
+“on any account.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Certainly not,” said Seager; “not
+while he behaves himself. What’s he
+like, eh?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“He’s about the size,” returned
+Bagot, “of a printer’s devil, or perhaps
+a little smaller; and, considering
+his inches, he’s uncommonly active.
+He was half-way up the bedpost this
+morning at one spring.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>All this nonsense, delivered with
+perfect earnestness and gravity, contrasted
+so oddly with the Colonel’s
+red nose and bristly unshaven face,
+that it greatly amused Mr Seager, and
+helped him to pass the time. By and
+by, however, both the tea-party and
+the imp disappeared, and their place
+was taken by spectres of more formidable
+stamp. In particular, there
+was a demon disguised as a bailiff in
+top-boots, who was come, as Bagot
+firmly believed, to take his soul in
+execution, he having unfortunately
+lost it at chicken hazard to the enemy
+of mankind, which latter personage
+he paid Mr Seager the compliment of
+taking him for.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It was now that Seager began to
+appreciate the soundness of the doctor’s
+advice with respect to excluding
+strangers from the hearing of Bagot’s
+delusions. He began to talk, sometimes
+pertinently, sometimes wildly,
+of the approaching trial, generally
+ending in absurd ravings; sometimes
+charging Seager with dreadful crimes,
+sometimes imagining himself the culprit.
+On the third day of his attack,
+Seager remarked that a showman
+figured largely in his discourse, and,
+finding the patient in a tractable mood,
+he questioned him as to who this showman
+might be.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I know,” said the Colonel, still
+taking Mr Seager for the distinguished
+personage aforesaid—“I know it’s of
+no use to try to keep anything a secret
+from <i>you</i>. But suppose now I tell you
+all about Holmes, will you let me off
+what—what I lost, you know?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“What was that?” asked Seager,
+forgetting the imaginary forfeit.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Why the—the soul,” said Bagot.
+“It’s of no use to you, you know.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Oh, ah, I’d forgotten that,” said
+Seager. “Pray, don’t mention it;
+’tisn’t of the least consequence. Yes,
+we’ll cry quits about that.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Then, to his hearer’s surprise, Bagot,
+apparently satisfied with the conditions,
+related all the particulars of his
+nocturnal interview with Mr Holmes,
+comprising what had passed between
+them inside the caravan.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Seager listened in breathless astonishment.
+The delusion, if delusion
+there was in this instance, was the
+most plausible and coherent of any
+that had yet haunted Bagot. It had
+touched, too, on some previous suspicions
+in Seager’s own mind, and he
+resolved, if Bagot recovered, to sound
+him on the subject.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Meantime he tried to lead him to
+talk more freely on the subject. But
+Bagot now began to wander, talked
+all kinds of nonsense, and ended, as
+usual, in violent ravings.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>All this time the demon in top-boots
+and his brethren were in constant
+attendance. Never for a moment
+was Bagot free from the horror
+of their presence; and if all the frightful
+spectres of romance and superstition
+had been actually crowded round
+his bed, the poor Colonel could not
+have suffered more than from the horrible
+phantasms that his imagination
+summoned to attend him.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It was beginning to be doubtful if
+he could hold out much longer under
+the disease; but on the third night
+he fell asleep, and woke the next
+morning in his right mind.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Ah, he’s pulled through this time,”
+said the doctor, when he saw him.
+“All right, now; but he mustn’t resume
+his hard drinking, or he’ll have
+another attack.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I’ll look after him myself,” said
+Mr Seager. “I’ll lock up the brandy
+bottle, and put him on short allowance.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Well, he ought to be very grateful
+to you, I’m sure,” said the doctor,
+“for all your attention. Really, I
+never saw greater kindness, even
+among near relations.” And the doctor
+having been paid, departed, perfectly
+convinced that Mr Seager was
+one of the best fellows that ever
+breathed, and the sort of person to
+make any sacrifice to serve his
+friends.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Now I’ll tell you what it is, Lee,”
+said Seager, when Bagot was on his
+legs again, and manifested a desire for
+his customary drams. “You mustn’t
+go on in your old way yet awhile. If
+you do, you’ll go to the devil in no
+time.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Never you mind, sir,” said Bagot
+with dignity. “I presume I’m the
+best judge of what’s good for me.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“You never made a greater mistake,”
+returned Mr Seager. “Just
+go and look in the glass, and see what
+your judgment of what’s good for you
+has brought you to, you unfortunate
+old beggar. You look like a cocktail
+screw after the third heat, all puffing
+and trembling. I’ll lay you a five-pound
+note you don’t look me straight
+in the face for a minute together.
+Here’s a sovereign, now—well, I’ll
+put it between your lips, and if you
+can hold it there for fifty seconds, you
+shall have it, and if not, you shall give
+me one. What d’ye say to that?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Sir,” said Bagot, with his lips
+trembling, and his eyes rolling more
+than ever at these delicate allusions
+to his infirmities—“sir, you are disagreeably
+personal.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Personal!” sneered Mr Seager.
+“I wish you could hear the confounded
+rubbish you talked while in bed. I
+only wished I’d had a short-hand
+writer to take it down—all about the
+bailiffs, and devils, and so forth. And
+the showman, too—one Holmes. He
+struck me as a real character; and if
+all you said was true, you must have
+had some queer dealings together.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>As he spoke he fixed his green eye
+on Bagot, who started, cast one nervous
+glance at him, and then, in great
+agitation, rose and walked to the window,
+where Seager saw him wipe his
+forehead with his handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Presently he looked stealthily over
+his shoulder, and, perceiving that
+Seager still eyed him, he affected to
+laugh. “Cursed nonsense I must have
+talked, I daresay,” said he huskily.
+“Oh, cursed, you know, ha, ha.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“But that about the showman
+Holmes didn’t sound so absurd as the
+rest,” said Seager. “It struck me as
+more like some real circumstances you
+were recollecting. Come, suppose you
+tell me all about it sensibly, now.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“No more of this, sir,” said Bagot,
+waving the handkerchief he had been
+wiping his forehead with. “The subject
+is unpleasant. No man, I presume,
+likes to be reminded that he
+has been talking like a fool. We
+won’t resume the subject now, or at
+any other time, if you please.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Ah,” said Seager to himself, on
+observing Bagot’s agitation, “I was
+right—there was some truth in that.
+I must consider how to turn it to account.”</p>
+
+<h3 class='c016'>CHAPTER XLIV.</h3>
+
+<p class='c013'>In his new circumstances Bagot was,
+of course, a very different personage
+from the Colonel Lee known to tradesmen
+and money-lenders of old. There
+was no talk now of arresting him for
+small debts, no hesitation in complying
+with his orders. The Jews, bill-brokers,
+and other accommodating
+persons who had lately been open-mouthed
+against him, now offered him
+unlimited credit, of which he did not
+fail to avail himself. His creditor,
+Mr Dubbley, seeing the very different
+position the Colonel would now occupy
+at the Heronry, and alive to the impolicy
+of offending so important a
+neighbour, stopt all proceedings against
+him, and, with the most abject apologies
+and assurances of regard, entreated
+him to take his own leisure
+for the payment of the debt. Apparently
+satisfied with these advantages,
+the Colonel showed no eagerness to
+take upon him either the dignity or
+the emoluments that had now devolved
+on him in the succession of inheritance.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The first lawyers in the kingdom
+were retained for him and Seager. A
+considerable sum was placed at the
+disposal of the latter, who was to employ
+it either in bribing that very important
+witness, Jim the groom, who
+had charge of Goshawk, to perjure
+himself, or in getting him to abscond.
+As he proved tractable, however, and
+agreed, for a sum which he named, to
+swear anything that the gentlemen
+might wish, it was resolved to produce
+him; and Seager was very sanguine
+of a favourable result.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the mean time Bagot, anxious
+and gloomy, kept almost entirely in
+his lodgings, and seldom spoke to anybody
+except on business. He did not
+know what reports might be abroad
+about the coming trial; he did not
+know how his associates would look
+upon him; and he feared at present to
+put the matter to proof by going among
+them. This line of conduct Seager
+thought highly impolitic, and told him
+so. “Put a good face on the matter,”
+he said. “Go down to the club—play
+billiards—go to the opera. If you go
+sneaking about with a hangdog face,
+as if you didn’t dare show yourself,
+people will bring you in guilty before
+the trial, and the legal acquittal will
+hardly serve to set you right again.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>So Bagot suffered himself to be persuaded,
+and went down to his club.
+Here he had been, in days of yore, a
+prominent character, and had enjoyed
+an extensive popularity among the
+members. He formed a sort of connecting
+link between the fogies and
+the youngsters; his experience allying
+him with the one class, his tastes
+and habits with the other. Here he
+might formerly often have been seen
+entertaining a knot of immoral old
+gentlemen with jokes improper for
+publication, or the centre of an admiring
+circle of fledglings of the sporting
+world, who reverenced him as an
+old bird of great experience and sagacity.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>With doubtful and anxious feelings,
+he now revisited the scene of his former
+glory. Putting on as composed
+a face as possible, he went up-stairs
+and entered the library. There were
+several people in it whom he knew.
+One well-known man-about-town,
+with whom the Colonel was rather
+intimate, was seated opposite the door
+reading a newspaper, and, as Bagot
+could have sworn, fixed his eye on
+him as he entered, but it was instantaneously
+dropt on the paper. Another
+member—an old gentleman who
+was strongly suspected of a happy
+knack of turning up honours at critical
+movements of the game of whist—looked
+round at his entrance, and
+the Colonel advanced to greet him, in
+perfect confidence that he, at any
+rate, was not a likely person to cast
+the first stone at him; but Bagot was
+mistaken. The old gentleman shifted
+his chair so as to place his back towards
+Bagot, with a loud snort of
+virtuous indignation, and, leaning
+forward, whispered to a neighbour
+some hurried words, of which Bagot
+could distinguish—“Deuced bad
+taste!—don’t you think so?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Crimson with rage and shame, Bagot
+bent down over a newspaper to
+recover himself, and fumbled with
+trembling hands at his eye-glasses.
+He heard a step behind him presently,
+but he dared not look up.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Lee, my boy, how are you?”
+said a stout hearty man about fifty,
+slapping the Colonel on the shoulder.
+“I’ve just come back from a tour,
+and the first thing I saw in the paper
+was about you—about your”—the
+stout gentleman stopt to sneeze, which
+he did four times, with terrible convulsions
+of face and figure, during
+which Bagot was in horrible suspense,
+while every ear in the room was
+pricked up—“about your good fortune,”
+said the stout gentleman, after
+he had blown and wiped his sonorous
+nose as carefully as if it were some
+delicate musical instrument that he
+was going to put by in its case. “I
+congratulate you with all my heart.
+Fine property, I’m told. Just wait
+while I ring the bell, and we’ll have
+a chat together.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>He went to the bell and rung it;
+but, on his way back to Bagot, he
+was stopped by a friend who had entered
+the library with him, and who
+now drew him aside. Bagot stole a
+glance over his paper at them. He
+felt they were talking about him. He
+heard his stout friend say—“God
+bless me, who would have thought it!”
+and he perceived that, instead of rejoining
+him, according to promise, he
+took a chair at the farther end of the
+room.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Bagot still kept his own seat a little
+while, but he could not long endure
+his position. He fancied every one
+was looking at him, though, when,
+with this impression strong on him,
+he glared defiance around, every eye
+was averted. He wished—he only
+wished—that some one would offer
+him some gross tangible insult, that
+he might relieve himself by an outburst—that
+he might hurl his scorn
+and defiance at them and the whole
+world.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>No one, however, seemed likely to
+oblige him with an opportunity of this
+kind, and, after a minute or two,
+Bagot rose, and, with as much composure
+as he could command, quitted
+the room and the house. As he
+walked—in no happy frame of mind
+with himself, with the world, or with
+Seager, whose advice had entailed
+upon him this mortification—towards
+his lodgings, along one of the small
+streets near St James’s, he saw some
+one wave his hand to him, in a friendly
+manner, from the opposite side of the
+way. Bagot was too short-sighted
+to recognise this acquaintance; but,
+seeing him prepare to cross the road
+to him, and reflecting that he could
+not afford to drop any acquaintances
+just then, when all seemed deserting
+him, he stopped to see who it was.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mr Jack Sharpe, the person who
+now drew near, had been intended
+for the Church, but happening to be
+fast in everything except in his progress
+in the different branches of university
+learning, in which he was particularly
+slow, he never arrived at
+the dignity of orders. He had formerly
+moved in the same circle as
+Bagot, but had lost his footing there,
+in consequence of strong suspicions of
+dishonourable conduct on the turf.
+These seemed the more likely to be
+just, as he had never sought to rebut
+the charge against him; and it was
+rumoured that, since the occurrence,
+he had allied himself—taking, at the
+same time, no great precautions for
+secresy—with a certain swindling
+confederacy. Therefore Bagot had,
+when last in town, in all the might
+and majesty of conscious integrity,
+avoided Mr Jack Sharpe, sternly repelled
+all his attempts to renew their
+acquaintance, and returned his greetings,
+when they chanced to meet,
+with the most chilling and formal
+bows. Sharpe appeared to think that
+late circumstances had bridged over
+the gulf between them, for he not only
+saluted Bagot with unwonted familiarity,
+but took his hand. The
+Colonel disengaged it, and, intrenching
+himself behind his dignity, endeavoured
+to pass on. Jack Sharpe,
+nothing daunted, walked cheerfully
+beside him.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Well, Colonel, how goes the trial?”
+asked Mr Sharpe, who had managed,
+notwithstanding his downfall, to preserve
+the appearance and manners of
+a gentleman. “You’ll get a verdict,
+I hope.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Colonel inclined his head stiffly.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Well, I hope so,” said Jack
+Sharpe. “It was a deuced clever
+thing, from what I hear of it, and deserves
+success; and my opinion of the
+cleverness of the thing will be exactly
+the same, whether you and Seager
+get an acquittal or not.” And Mr
+Sharpe looked as if he expected to
+find Bagot highly gratified by his
+approbation.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Do you presume, for a moment,
+to insinuate a doubt of my innocence
+of the charge?” asked Bagot sternly.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Oh, certainly not,” returned Jack
+Sharpe, with a laugh. “Quite right
+to carry it high, Colonel. Nothing
+like putting a good face on it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Sir,” said Bagot, increasing his
+pace, “your remarks are offensive.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I didn’t mean them to be so,”
+answered the other. “But you’re
+quite right to carry it off this way.
+You’ve come into a good property, I
+hear, and that will keep you fair with
+the world, however this trial, or a
+dozen other such, might go. Some
+people have the devil’s own luck.
+Yes, Colonel, you’ll pull through it—you’ll
+never fall among thieves. It’s
+only the <i>poor</i> devils,” added Jack
+Sharpe bitterly, “that get pitched
+into and kicked into outer darkness.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Bagot was perfectly livid. By this
+time they had reached a corner of
+the street, and, stopping short, the
+Colonel said—</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Oblige me by saying which way
+your road lies.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Well, well, good morning, Colonel.
+I’m not offended, for, I daresay, I
+should do the same myself in your
+place. Politic, Colonel, politic! I
+wish you good luck and good morning.”
+And Mr Jack Sharpe took
+himself off.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This encounter grated on Bagot’s
+feelings more than any other incident
+that had occurred to him. To be
+hailed familiarly as a comrade by a
+swindler—to be prejudged as one who
+had forfeited his position in society, and
+was to retain it only on new and accidental
+grounds—this sunk deep, and
+shook that confidence of success which
+he had hitherto never permitted himself
+to question.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Just afterwards he met Seager, who
+came gaily up to ask him how he had
+got on at the club. Bagot told him
+something of the unpleasant treatment
+he had met with, and the disgust
+and annoyance it had caused him
+to feel. Seager grinned.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“You’re not hard enough, Lee—you
+think too much of these things.
+Now, I’m as hard as a nail. I meet
+with exactly the same treatment as
+you do, but what do I care for it?
+It doesn’t hurt me—they can’t put
+<i>me</i> down,” and Seager smiled at the
+thought of his own superiority.
+“What would you do, I wonder, if
+a thing which just now happened to
+me were to happen to you? I was
+looking on at a billiard match, and
+Crossley, (you know Crossley?) who
+had been, like the rest of ’em, deuced
+distant and cool to me, offered to bet
+on the game. I took him up—he
+declined. ‘Oh, you back out, do you?’
+says I. ‘Not at all,’ says Crossley;
+‘but I don’t bet with everybody.’ Now,
+what would you have done?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I should have desired him to apologise
+instantly,” said the Colonel.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“He’d have refused.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I’d have kicked him,” said the
+Colonel.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“’Twould have caused a row, and
+we’re quite conspicuous enough already,”
+said Seager. “No; I turned
+coolly to him, and says I, ‘Very good;
+as we’re going to close our accounts,
+I’ll thank you for that ten-pound note
+I won from you on the Phœbe match.’
+Crossley, you know, is poor and
+proud, and he looked cursedly disgusted
+and cut up at this exposure of
+his shortcomings. I’ll bet, he wishes
+he’d been civil now. You must take
+these things coolly. Never mind how
+they look at you: go back to the club,
+now, and brave it out—show ’em you
+don’t care for ’em.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“No,” muttered Bagot, “I’d die
+first. I’ll go out no more till ’tis over.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In this resolution he shut himself
+up in his lodgings, only going out in
+the dusk to walk in such thoroughfares
+as were not likely to be frequented
+by any of his acquaintances.
+Never had a week passed so dismally
+with him as this. His nerves were
+yet unstrung by his late attack, and
+his anxiety was augmented as the
+day of the trial approached, until he
+wondered how he could endure it. In
+spite of his efforts, his thoughts were
+impelled into tracks the most repugnant
+to him. The remembrance of
+his reception by the members of his
+club haunted him incessantly, though
+it was what most of all he wished to
+forget; for Bagot, being, as we have
+seen him, a weak-principled man of
+social habits, though he had found no
+difficulty in quieting his own conscience,
+was keenly alive to the horrors
+of disgrace.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>He felt as he remembered to have
+often felt when a great race was approaching,
+which was to make or mar
+him—only the interest now was more
+painfully strong than ever before.
+There was an event of some sort in
+store—why could he not divine it?—ah,
+if he were only as wise now as he
+would be this day week, what anxiety
+would be saved him! He only dared
+contemplate the possibility of one result—an
+acquittal. That would lift
+the weight from his breast and reopen
+life to him. But a conviction!—that
+he dared not think of—for that contingency
+he made no provision.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>During this week Harry Noble had
+come up from the Heronry on some
+business connected with the stable
+there, in which the Colonel had been
+interested; and Bagot, conceiving he
+might be useful in matters in which
+he did not choose to trust his own
+servant Wilson, had desired him to
+remain in town for the present. This
+Seager was glad of, for he knew Harry
+was to be trusted, and he told him in
+a few words the nature of the predicament
+the Colonel was in.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“You must have an eye to him,”
+said Seager; “don’t let him drink
+much, if you can help it; and if it
+should be necessary for him to make
+a trip to France for a time, you must
+go with him.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I’ll go with him to the world’s
+end, Mr Seager,” said Harry. He was
+much attached to the Colonel, having
+known him since the time when Noble,
+as a boy, entered the Heronry stables;
+and though he had then, like the other
+stable-boys, found Bagot very severe
+and exacting, yet, having once proved
+himself a careful and trustworthy
+servant and excellent groom, the
+Colonel had honoured him since with
+a good deal of his confidence.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Harry had the more readily agreed
+to this since, when leaving the Heronry,
+he had parted in great wrath
+from Miss Fillett, who had found time
+in the midst of her religious zeal to
+harrow up Noble’s soul with fresh
+jealousies, and to flirt demurely, but
+effectually, with many brethren who
+frequented the same chapel.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The day before the trial Seager
+came, and Bagot prevailed on him to
+stay and dine, and play écarte. Seager
+was sanguine of the result of the trial,
+which was to commence on the morrow,
+in the Court of Queen’s Bench—spoke
+in assured terms of the excellence
+of their case, their counsel, and
+their witnesses; and telling him to
+keep up his spirits, wished him good
+night, promising to bring him back
+the earliest intelligence of how the
+day had gone.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Colonel’s eagerness for, and
+terror of, the result had now worked
+him into a state of agitation little
+short of frenzy. The trial was expected
+to last two days, but the first
+would probably show him how the
+case was likely to terminate. Both
+Bagot and Seager preferred forfeiting
+their recognisances to surrendering to
+take their trial, which would have
+shut out all hope of escape in the event
+of an adverse verdict.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Finding it impossible to sit still
+while in this state, the Colonel started
+for a long walk, resolving to return
+at the hour at which Seager might be
+expected. Arriving a few minutes
+later than he intended, he went up-stairs
+to his sitting-room, but started
+back on seeing a person whom he did
+not recognise there. His first impression
+was, that it was a man come
+to arrest him.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>His visitor, on seeing his consternation,
+gave a loud laugh. It was Mr
+Seager.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Gad, Lee,” said that worthy, “it
+<i>must</i> be well done, if it takes you in.
+I was in court all day, and sat next
+a couple of our set, but they hadn’t
+an idea who I was.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mr Seager was certainly well disguised,
+and it was no wonder the
+Colonel had not recognised him. Low
+on his forehead came a black wig, and
+whiskers of the same met under his
+chin. He had a mustache also; his
+coat was blue, his waistcoat gorgeous,
+with two or three chains, evidently
+plated, meandering over it, and his
+trousers were of a large and brilliant
+check. In his elaborate shirt-front
+appeared several studs, like little
+watches, and his neck was enveloped
+in a black satin stock with gold flowers
+and a great pin.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“What d’ye think, Lee—don’t I
+look the nobby Israelite, eh?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Bagot shortly admitted the excellence
+of his disguise, and then asked,
+“What news?—is it over?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Only the prosecution—that’s
+finished,” returned the metamorphosed
+Seager.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Well,” said Bagot breathlessly,
+“and how—how did it go?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Sit down,” said Seager; “give
+me a cigar, and I’ll tell you all about
+it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Nothing could be more strongly
+contrasted than the anxiety of Bagot
+with the composure of Seager. No
+one would have imagined them to be
+both equally concerned in the proceedings
+that the latter now proceeded to
+relate; while Bagot glared at him,
+gnawing his nails and breathing hard.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“The court,” said Seager, throwing
+himself back in the chair after he had
+lit his cigar, with his hands in his
+trousers’ pockets, and his feet stretched
+to the fire—“the court was crowded.
+Sloperton’s counsel opened the ball
+by giving a sketch of the whole affair—little
+personal histories of you and
+me and Sloperton, the sort of things
+that might be prefixed to our poetical
+works after we’re dead—you know
+the style of thing, Lee, birth, parentage,
+breeding, so forth. Then came
+out Sloperton’s meeting with us at the
+Bush at Doddington—the adjournment
+to Oates’s room—the broiled
+bones, cards, and betting, and the
+terms of the wager with Sloperton.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Our friend Sloper was the first
+witness, and had got himself up a
+most awful swell, as you may suppose,
+on such a grand occasion, and there
+wasn’t a young lady in court who
+didn’t sympathise with him. I could
+see by his way of giving evidence he
+was as vindictive as the devil. Our
+fellows went at him, but they didn’t
+damage his evidence much. He told
+about the bet—how, by your advice,
+he had sent to me to offer to compromise
+it—and how he had perfectly
+depended all was fair till he heard the
+mare was lame. Oates followed, and
+corroborated the whole story. Then
+came one of the vets who attended the
+mare, and he swore, in his opinion,
+she’d got navicular disease. Then
+came a new actor” (Bagot listened
+more eagerly than ever), “one Mr
+Chick, who saw us return to the stable
+that morning we gave Goshawk the
+trial; and he swore the mare was lame
+then.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Bagot drew a long breath, and fell
+back in his chair.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Against all this,” Seager went on,
+“we’ve got to-morrow the evidence
+of Jim, who’ll swear the mare never
+was lame while in his charge, and of
+the other vet, who’ll swear she was
+and is sound. So cheer up, old boy;
+it may go all right yet. Never say
+die.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Seager paused, and looked at Bagot,
+who had covered his face with his
+hands. Both were silent for a space.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“By the by,” said Seager presently,
+in an indifferent tone, yet eyeing
+Bagot with a keenness that showed
+his interest in the question—“by the
+by, where’s Lady Lee now?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Bagot did not answer, and Seager
+repeated the question.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“What’s Lady Lee to you, sir?”
+said Bagot, removing his hands from
+his face, the colour of which was very
+livid.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“O, nothing particular; but she
+might be something to you, you know,
+in case of the business going against
+us to-morrow. You said she had left
+the Heronry, didn’t you?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Bagot did not reply.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“It’s no use blinking the matter,”
+said Seager testily. “Things may
+go against us to-morrow, in which
+case I’m off, and so are you, I suppose.
+I’ve made all my arrangements;
+but I think we had better
+take different roads, and appoint a
+place to meet on the Continent. But
+I’m short of money for a long trip,
+and, of course, you’ll accommodate
+me. We row in the same boat, you
+know. Come, what will you come
+down with?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Not a penny,” said Bagot in a
+low thick voice.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Eh! what?” said Seager, looking
+up at him.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Not a penny,” said Bagot, raising
+his voice. “You devil,” he cried,
+starting from his chair, “don’t you
+know you’ve ruined me?” and, seizing
+the astonished Seager by the
+throat, he shook him violently.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“You cursed old lunatic!” cried
+Seager, as soon as he had struggled
+himself free from Bagot’s grasp.
+“You’re mad, you old fool. Only
+raise a finger again, and I’ll brain you
+with the poker. What d’ye mean,
+ha? We must talk about this, and
+you shall apologise, or give me satisfaction.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“What, an affair of <i>honour</i>, eh?”
+sneered Bagot between his ground
+teeth. “Between two <i>gentlemen</i>!
+That sounds better than convicted
+swindlers. Curse you,” he added, in
+a hoarse whisper, “you’ve been my
+destruction.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“He’s dangerous,” thought Seager,
+as he looked at him. “Come, Lee,”
+said he, “listen to reason; lend me
+a supply, and we’ll say no more about
+this queer behaviour. I know you’ve
+been drinking.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“You have my answer, sir,” said
+Bagot. “Not a penny, I repeat. I
+wish you may starve—rot in a jail.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Seager looked at him keenly for a
+minute. “He’s been at the brandy
+bottle,” he thought. “Well, let him
+drink himself mad or dead, if he likes.
+But, no!—that won’t do either—he
+may be useful yet. The old fool!”
+he muttered as he departed, “he
+doesn’t know how far he has let me
+into his secrets. Well, he’ll change
+his note, perhaps;” so saying, he left
+the room and the house.</p>
+
+<h3 class='c016'>CHAPTER XLV.</h3>
+
+<p class='c013'>Disguised as before, Seager went to
+Westminster next day, to hear the
+conclusion of the trial. The court
+was, as on the previous day, crowded
+to excess, and Seager recognised a
+great number of his and Bagot’s acquaintances
+among the spectators.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The counsel for the defendants made
+an able address to the jury. The prosecutor,
+he said, had tried to win Seager’s
+money, as Seager had tried to
+win his; and, nettled at finding he
+had made a rash bet, he now brought
+the action. The defendants were men
+of reputation, who had been engaged
+in many betting transactions before,
+and always without blemish or suspicion.
+There was no proof that the
+mare was unfit for the feat she had
+been backed to perform; and, if she
+had attempted it, she could have done
+it with ease.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>After calling several witnesses to
+speak to minor points, the other veterinary
+surgeon who had attended the
+mare was put in the box. He swore
+the mare’s lameness was trifling and
+temporary; that he had seen her trot,
+and believed her certain to win such
+a match as the one in question; and
+that he had not detected in her any
+trace of navicular disease.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This witness having sustained a
+severe cross-examination unshaken,
+Mr Seager began to breathe more
+freely. The last witness was Jim the
+groom. Jim, though very compliant
+in respect of any evidence he might
+be required to give, had obstinately
+insisted on payment beforehand. It
+was to no purpose Seager had promised
+him the money the instant he
+should come out of court; the cautious
+Jim was inflexible till the stipulated
+sum was put in his hands.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Seager watched him as he was being
+sworn with the greatest attention;
+but Jim’s was not an expressive
+countenance, and nothing was to be
+read there. But Mr Seager detected
+treachery in his manner the moment
+the examination began. Without attempting
+to repeat the lesson he had
+been taught, he prevaricated so much
+that the counsel for the defendants,
+finding he was more likely to damage
+than to assist his clients, abruptly sat
+down. In the cross-examination he
+suffered (though with some appearance
+of unwillingness) the whole truth
+to be elicited; admitted the mare’s
+lameness—remembered the Colonel
+and his master trying her, and finding
+her lame—(an incident he had been
+especially desired to erase from his
+memory)—and also remembered to
+have heard them talk about “navicular.”
+He also recollected that Seager
+cautioned him to keep the circumstance
+very quiet.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Seager sat grinding his teeth with
+rage. He had forgotten the incident
+of the horse-whipping which he had
+administered to Jim, though the latter
+had not, and was therefore at a
+loss to account for his treachery.
+Jim’s revenge happening to coincide
+with his duty, he had no sooner pocketed
+the reward for his intended perjury,
+than he resolved to pursue the
+paths of rectitude, and to speak the
+truth.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Just at this time Seager caught
+sight of one he knew standing very
+near him, and listening as eagerly as
+himself. This was Harry Noble, who
+had been there also on the previous
+day, and who, firmly convinced that
+his master was wrongfully accused,
+had heard the evidence of the groom
+Jim with high indignation, and was
+now burning to defy that perjured
+slanderer to abide the ordeal of single
+combat. Seager, writing a few words
+on a slip of paper, made his way up to
+Harry, and pulled his sleeve. Noble
+turned round and stared at him, without
+any sign of recognition.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Look another way,” said Seager,
+“and listen. ’Tis me—and I want
+you to run with this note to the Colonel.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“What! are you Mr Sea——?”
+began Harry; but Seager squeezed
+his arm.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Hush!” he said. “I don’t want
+to be known; and don’t mention to
+anybody but the Colonel that you’ve
+seen me. Take this note to him; he’ll
+start for France as soon as he gets it,
+and you must get him away with all
+the speed you can. Don’t delay a
+minute.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Noble nodded and quitted the court.
+He got a cab, and went with all speed
+to Bagot’s lodgings, and, telling the
+cabman to wait, immediately ran up-stairs
+with the note. The Colonel,
+who was pacing the room, snatched it
+eagerly, read it, and let it fall, sinking
+back into a chair quite collapsed.
+“It’s all over,” he muttered.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Noble stood near, looking at him in
+respectful silence for a minute or two.
+At length he ventured to say, “Shall
+I begin to pack up, sir? Mr Seager
+said we must be quick.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Don’t name him!” thundered Bagot,
+starting from his chair. “Curse
+him! I could tear him!”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I’ll never believe ’twas you as
+did the trick, sir,” said Noble. “No
+more won’t anybody else; though,
+as for Mr Seager, I couldn’t say.
+Shall I begin to pack up, sir?” he
+repeated.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Do what you please,” returned
+his master in fierce abstraction.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Noble, thus empowered, entered the
+bedroom, and began to stow Bagot’s
+clothes away in his portmanteau.
+Presently he came to the door of the
+apartment, where the Colonel had
+again sunk down in his chair. Bagot
+was now face to face with the event
+he had so dreaded; no subterfuge
+could keep it off any longer—no side
+look rid him of its presence. He would,
+in a few hours, be a convicted, as he
+was already a disgraced, man. The
+averted looks—the whispers—the cold
+stares of former friends, that had lately
+driven him almost mad, were now
+to be his for life. Life! would he
+bear it? It had no further hope, promise,
+or charm for him, and he was
+resolved to be rid of it and dishonour
+together.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Beg pardon, sir,” said Noble at
+length, seeing that Bagot took no notice
+of him. “Perhaps you’d wish
+to let my lady know where we’re gone,
+sir?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Bagot started, and seemed to think
+for a minute. As soon as Noble,
+after delivering his suggestion, had
+vanished, the Colonel drew his chair
+to the table, and began to write, while
+Harry, in the next room, went on
+with the packing.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>He finished his letter, directed and
+sealed it, and laid it down, muttering,
+“Thank God there’s one act of justice
+done.” Then he went to a cupboard
+in the apartment, filled a large
+glass of brandy, and drank it off.
+“Now,” he muttered, “one moment’s
+firmness! no delay! Leave
+that room,” he called out to Noble,
+as he went towards the bedroom—“there’s
+something I wish to pack
+up myself.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Noble accordingly came out. As
+he passed the Colonel, he noticed a
+wildness in his expression. Before
+entering the bedroom the Colonel
+turned and said, “Let that letter be
+sent to-day,” pointing to the one he
+had just written, “and you can go
+down stairs for the present,” he
+added.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Noble’s suspicions were aroused.
+Having got as far as the door, he pretended
+to shut himself out, and came
+softly back. Listening for a moment,
+he heard Bagot open some sort of
+case that creaked. Presently he
+peeped in—Bagot was in the very act
+of fumbling, with trembling hands, at
+the lock of a pistol. He was just
+raising it towards his head when
+Noble, with a shout, rushed in and
+caught his arm.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Don’t ye, sir, don’t ye, for God’s
+sake!” he said, as Bagot turned his
+face with a bewildered stare towards
+him. “Give it to me, sir.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Leave me, sir,” said Bagot, still
+looking wildly at him—“leave me to
+wipe out my dishonour.” He struggled
+for a moment to retain the pistol,
+but Noble wrested it from him, took
+off the cap, and returned it to its
+case. The Colonel sunk down moaning
+on the bed, and covered his face
+with his hands.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Noble hastily fastened the portmanteau
+and carpet-bag, and called to
+Wilson to help to take them down to
+the cab in which he had come, and
+which waited at the door.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Now, sir,” he whispered to Bagot,
+“don’t take on so—we shall be safe
+to-night. You won’t think of doing
+yourself a mischief, sir, will you?
+don’t ye, sir!”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>He took him gently by the arm.
+The poor Colonel, with his nerves all
+unstrung, rose mechanically, and stood
+like a child while Noble put on his
+hat and wiped his face, which was
+moist with sweat and tears; then he
+followed him down stairs unresistingly.
+Noble whispered to Wilson
+at the door, that he and the Colonel
+were going away for a time, and that
+there was a letter on the table to be
+sent that night to the post. Then he
+put the Colonel and the luggage into
+the cab, mounted himself to the box,
+and they drove off, Harry frequently
+turning to look at his master through
+the front glass.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Meantime Seager sat hearing the
+close of the defence. The judge summed
+up, leaving it to the jury to say
+whether the defendants knew of the
+mare’s unfitness to perform her engagement
+at the time they persuaded
+the plaintiff to pay a sum in compromise.
+The jury, after a short deliberation,
+found them both guilty of fraud
+and conspiracy.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There was some technical objection
+put in by the defendants’ counsel; but
+this being overruled, the judge proceeded
+to pass sentence. He was
+grieved to find men of the defendants’
+position in society in such a discreditable
+situation. No one who had heard
+the evidence could doubt they had
+conspired to defraud the prosecutor of
+his money. He did not know whether
+he was justified in refraining from inflicting
+the highest punishment allotted
+to their offence, but, perhaps, the
+ends of justice might be answered by
+the lesser penalty. The sentence
+was, that the defendants should be
+imprisoned for two years.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Seager, seeing how the case was
+latterly going, was quite prepared for
+this. Just waiting to hear the close
+of the judge’s address, he got out of
+court with all possible speed.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>He went to his lodgings, changed
+his dress, and hurried to Bagot’s.
+There he met Wilson with a letter in
+his hand which he was about to take
+to the post. Seager glanced at the
+direction, and then averting his eye,
+“That’s for Lady Lee,” he said—“from
+the Colonel, is it not?” Wilson
+said it was.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Ah,” said Seager, “I just met
+him, and he asked me to call for it—he
+wants to add something he forgot,
+before ’tis posted. Give it me.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Wilson, supposing it was all right,
+gave it to him. Mr Seager, chuckling
+over the dexterity with which he had
+obtained the letter, and thus more
+than accomplished the design of his
+visit to Bagot’s lodgings, which was
+to get Lady Lee’s address, drove off
+to his own lodgings, reassumed his
+disguise, and went straight to the
+station.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Entering the railway office, he
+shrunk aside into a corner till the train
+should be ready to start—he wished
+to leave as few traces as possible
+behind him. He was quite unencumbered
+with baggage, having taken the
+precaution to send that on to Dover
+to await him there under a feigned
+name. As he stood aside in the shade
+a man passed and looked narrowly at
+him. Seager thought he recognised
+his face: again he passed, and Seager
+this time knew him for a police sergeant
+in plain clothes. He was rather
+alarmed, yet he was a little reassured
+by considering that his disguise was a
+safe one. But he reflected that it
+might have caused him to be taken
+for some other culprit, and it would
+be as awkward to be arrested as
+the wrong man, as in his own character.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The last moment before the starting
+of the train was at hand, and Seager,
+as the police sergeant turned upon his
+walk, darted stealthily to the check-taker’s
+box and demanded a ticket,
+not for Frewenham, but for the station
+beyond it—for his habitual craft did
+not fail him. Having secured it, he
+hastened on to the platform and took
+his place.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At the moment he took his ticket,
+the sergeant, missing him, turned and
+saw him. Instantly he went to the
+box and asked where that last gentleman
+took his ticket for, and, on
+being told, took one for the same
+place. The bell had rung, and he
+hastened out, but he was too late.
+The train was already in motion; the
+last object he caught sight of was
+Seager’s head thrust out of one of the
+carriages; and the baffled policeman
+turned back to wait for the next
+train.</p>
+
+<h3 class='c016'>CHAPTER XLVI.</h3>
+
+<p class='c013'>Fane had spent some time in diligent
+pursuit of Onslow; at first with
+no great promise of success, but latterly
+with some certainty of being
+upon his track. Just, however, as his
+hopes of securing him were strongest,
+he had received a letter which had
+been following him for some time from
+town to town, summoning him to
+attend the sick-bed of his uncle, who
+had been attacked with sudden and
+dangerous illness.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Of course he set off at once, as in
+duty bound; but he was surprised
+and ashamed, knowing the obligations
+he lay under to his relative, to notice
+how little anxiety and pain the news
+occasioned him. Fane was very
+honest in analysing his own emotions,
+and on the present occasion laid
+more blame to the account of his own
+nature, which he accused of unsympathising
+callousness, than it by any
+means deserved. He would have
+done as much to serve a friend, and
+was capable of as warm attachment,
+as most people, but his feelings required
+a congenial nature to call them
+forth. He was not one of those who
+wear their hearts on their sleeve for
+any daw to peck at, and had none of
+that incontinence of affability which
+insures a man so many acquaintances
+and so few friends. Had he been
+Lear’s eldest son, he would, to a certainty,
+have been disinherited, along
+with Cordelia, in favour of those gay
+deceivers, Goneril and Regan.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Now, Mr Levitt his uncle, though
+naturally amiable, was an undemonstrative
+character, full of good impulses
+which terribly embarrassed
+him. He would read a poem or
+romance with the keenest enjoyment,
+yet with affected contempt, turning
+up his nose and screwing down the
+corners of his mouth, while his eyes
+were watering and his heart beating.
+He would offer two fingers to a parting
+friend, nod good-by to him
+slightly, and turn away, feeling as if a
+shadow had come upon his world.
+He had been used to write to his
+nephews in the spirit of a Roman or
+Spartan uncle, giving them stern advice,
+and sending them the most
+liberal remittances, in the most ungracious
+manner—throwing checks at
+their heads, as it were—while all the
+time he was yearning for their presence.
+In fact, he was so ashamed of
+his best points, and so anxious to
+conceal them, that the rigid mask
+wherewith he hid his virtues had
+become habitual, and he was a very
+sheep in wolf’s clothing.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Those, however, who had known
+him long, rated him at his true value.
+Fane found the household in great
+grief. Miss Betsey, an ancient housekeeper,
+distinguished principally by
+strong fidelity to the family interests,
+a passion for gin-and-water, and a
+most extraordinary cap, wrung her
+hands with great decorum; and Mr
+Payne the banker, Orelia’s father, at
+the first news of his old friend’s illness,
+had left a great money transaction
+unfinished to rush to his bedside,
+where Fane found him on his arrival.
+Indeed, it was from him he had received
+intelligence of his uncle’s
+illness.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mr Payne’s temperament had suffered
+foul wrong when they made him
+a banker. He had naturally an intense
+dislike to matters of calculation,
+his bent being towards <i>belles lettres</i>,
+foreign travel, and the like pleasant
+paths. Somehow or other he had got
+rich, and flourished in spite of his want
+of talent for money-making. His
+worldly pursuits, perhaps, made his
+tastes keener, for he fell upon all manner
+of light reading with wonderful
+zest after a busy day at the bank. As
+for his taste for travelling, it was
+whispered among his acquaintances
+that its development was not so much
+owing to an erratic and inquiring
+spirit, as to the fact that in the
+second Mrs Payne he had caught a
+Tartar, and availed himself of any
+plausible excuse to escape from her
+domestic tyranny. Orelia, coming
+home from school one vacation, and
+finding her stepmother in full exercise
+of authority, not only, as a matter
+of course, rebelled herself, but tried to
+stir up her father to join in the mutiny.
+Finding him averse to open war, she
+proclaimed her intention forthwith of
+quitting the paternal mansion, and
+living in the house which had become
+hers by the death of her godmother,
+as before related; and Mr Payne,
+coming down on Saturdays after the
+bank was closed, would spend one-half
+of his weekly visit in lamenting
+the ill-temper of his spouse, and the
+other in his favourite studies.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Fane found his uncle slowly recovering
+from the effects of the attack
+which had prostrated him, and by no
+means secure from a relapse. Mr
+Levitt caught the sound of his step on
+the stair, and recognised it; and Mr
+Payne, seated by the bedside, saw
+the invalid glance eagerly at the door.
+Nevertheless, he received his nephew
+almost coldly, though the latter testified
+warm interest in his state.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“You’ve been some time finding
+me out, Durham,” said his uncle,
+after shortly answering his inquiries.
+“I’m afraid you’ve been summoned
+to this uninteresting scene from some
+more agreeable pursuit.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“It was an important one, at any
+rate, sir,” returned Fane; “yet even
+that did not prevent me hastening
+hither the moment Mr Payne’s letter
+reached me. I only got it this morning.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“An important one, hey, Durham!”
+said Mr Levitt, with the cynical air
+under which he was accustomed to
+veil his interest in his nephew’s proceedings.
+“We may judge of its importance,
+Payne, by his hurrying
+away from it to look after the ailments
+of a stupid old fellow like me.
+Some nonsense, I’ll be bound.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mr Payne, a bald benevolent man
+of fifty, in spectacles, came round the
+bed to shake Fane’s hand.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Without the pleasure of knowing
+the Captain, I’ll answer for his holding
+you in due consideration,” said
+Mr Payne. “And your uncle knows
+that, too; he’s only joking,” he said
+to Fane.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Well, but the important business,
+Durham?” said the invalid, as Fane
+seated himself beside his pillow.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Fane, remembering that his cousin’s
+was a prohibited name, and fearing
+the effect it might produce, attempted
+to laugh off the inquiry.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Love!” said Mr Levitt, with another
+cynical glance at Mr Payne,
+who had resumed his station at the
+other side of the bed. “A charmer
+for fifty pounds; why, I grow quite
+curious—don’t you, Payne? It’s exactly
+what you suggested as the cause
+of his delay. Come, let’s hear about
+her—begin with the eyes—that’s the
+rule, isn’t it?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Wrong, sir, quite wrong,” said
+Fane, with another disclaiming laugh.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Poor, bashful fellow!” persisted
+his uncle. “But we won’t spare his
+blushes, Payne. And how far did
+you pursue the nymph, Durham?—and
+why did she fly you? Is she at
+length propitious? I hope so!—you
+know my wishes.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“There’s no lady in the case, sir,
+I assure you,” said Fane earnestly.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Ah! it’s always the way with
+your sensitive lovers,” pursued his
+questioner, addressing Mr Payne.
+“They’re as shy of the subject which
+occupies their thoughts as if they
+didn’t like it. Come, if you’re afraid
+to speak out before my friend Payne
+(though I’m sure you needn’t be—he’s
+discretion itself), he’ll go away,
+I daresay. What is she like? and
+when is it to be?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“When is what to be, sir?” asked
+Fane, trying to humour the old gentleman,
+but getting impatient, nevertheless.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Why, the wedding, of course.
+Seriously, Durham, I’m all impatience.
+Your last letter seemed to
+point at something of the kind; and
+it was written long enough ago to
+have settled half-a-dozen love affairs
+since. I’m more earnest than ever
+on the subject, now that my admonitions
+seem likely to be cut short; and
+this matrimony question may affect
+the dispositions of my will, Durham.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Consider it settled, then, I beg,
+sir,” said Fane seriously. “I shall
+never marry.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I shall be sorry to find you serious,
+Durham. A bachelor’s life is but a
+dreary one. Just look at the difference
+between me and my friend
+Payne—he is rosy and happy, and, if
+he were lying here, he would have
+quite a family meeting assembled
+round him—while I should be alone,
+but for a nephew who has no great
+reason to care about me, and a friend
+whose good-nature brings him to see
+what may, perhaps, be the last of an
+old acquaintance. My opinions on
+the subject I’ve so often spoken to
+you of, haven’t changed, you see, in
+the least—and perhaps I shall act
+upon them.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“As you please, sir,” said Fane.
+“I speak my deliberate thought when
+I say I don’t intend to marry.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Here Miss Betsey tapt at the door,
+to say that Mr Durham’s supper was
+ready.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Go down with him, Payne,” said
+Mr Levitt. “I’ll go on with this
+story here—a silly thing; but sick
+people mustn’t be too critical.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“An excellent novel!” exclaimed
+Mr Payne—“full of feeling.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Ay, ay, well enough for that
+kind of trumpery,” said the invalid,
+who was secretly burning to know
+how the hero and heroine were to be
+brought together through such a sea
+of difficulties; and his friend and his
+nephew, after making a few arrangements
+for his comfort, went down
+stairs together.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Fane dismissed the servant who
+waited at table. He wished to open
+what he intended to be, and what
+proved, a very interesting conversation.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“You’re a very old friend of my
+uncle’s, Mr Payne,” he said. “I’ve
+so often heard him speak of you, that
+I seem almost familiar with you,
+though this is our first meeting.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“A school friendship,” said Mr
+Payne; “and it has continued unbroken
+ever since.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I will tell you,” said Fane, “what
+the pursuit was I was really engaged
+in, and you will perceive I could not
+mention it to my uncle. The fact is,
+I believe I was on the point of discovering
+my cousin Langley.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mr Payne dropt his knife and fork,
+and leant back in his chair. “You
+don’t say so!” cried he. “Poor Langley—poor,
+poor Langley!”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Fane told the grounds he had for
+suspecting Langley and the ex-dragoon
+Onslow to be one and the same
+person.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Following some faint traces,”
+said Fane, “I reached a town where,
+exposed for sale in a shop window, I
+saw some drawings which I recognised
+for his. You know his gift that
+way.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Ay, a first-rate draughtsman,
+poor fellow,” said Mr Payne.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“He had sold these for a trifle far
+below their value, and, as I found,
+had left the town only the day before.
+I therefore felt secure of him when
+your letter diverted me from the pursuit.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Poor Langley!” repeated the
+sympathetic Mr Payne. “Such a
+clever fellow! Draw, sir! he had the
+making of half-a-dozen academicians
+in him—and ride!—but you’ve seen
+him ride, of course. And such an
+actor!—nothing like him off the London
+boards, and not many on them
+equal to him, in my opinion. And to
+end that way, I don’t know if I should
+like to see him again.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“You can perhaps enlighten me on
+a point I’ve long been curious about,”
+said Fane. “I mean the real cause of
+my uncle’s displeasure towards him—the
+extravagance attributed to Langley
+doesn’t sufficiently account for it.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“No,” said Mr Payne, “your uncle
+would have forgiven that readily
+enough. He pretended, as his way
+is, to be angrier at it than he was.
+But the real cause of estrangement
+was more serious.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Your uncle finding, by his frequent
+applications for money, that accounts
+which had reached him of Langley’s
+gambling were but too true, at length
+replied to a request for a hundred
+pounds by enclosing a check to that
+amount, at the same time saying it
+was the last he must expect, and expressing
+his displeasure very harshly.
+The check was brought to our bank
+the next day, and it was not till after
+it had been cashed that it was suspected
+that the original amount, both
+in words and figures, had been altered.
+Four hundred pounds it now stood,
+and that sum had been paid on it.
+The 1 had easily been made into a
+4, and the words altered to correspond—neatly
+enough, but not so like
+your uncle’s as to pass with a close
+scrutiny. While we were examining
+it, your uncle came in, his anxiety on
+Langley’s account having brought him
+to town. He took the check, looked
+at it, and then drew me aside. ‘’Tis
+forged,’ said he; ‘mine was for a
+hundred: but not a word of this,
+Payne—let it pass as regular—tell
+the clerks ’tis all right.’ This was a
+terrible blow to him. From that day
+to this we have heard nothing of
+Langley, nor does your uncle ever
+mention his name; and no one but an
+intimate friend like me would guess
+how much he felt the dishonour.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“But Langley must have known
+’twould be discovered immediately,”
+said Fane, who listened with deep
+attention.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Ay—but meantime his end was
+answered. The money was paid,
+and he doubtless calculated that your
+uncle would rather lose the sum than
+suffer the disgrace of exposure—and
+he was right.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I can’t believe him guilty,” said
+Fane.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“He must have been severely
+tempted, poor boy,” said Mr Payne—“always
+so open and upright; but
+there can, I’m afraid, be no doubt of
+his guilt. Consider, he has never
+showed his face since.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Fane thought for a minute or two.
+“No,” he said—“no, not guilty, I
+hope and believe. No guilty man
+could have borne himself as he has
+done since. But there is now more
+reason than ever for resuming my
+search for him. Yes, yes—I must
+see and question him myself.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Where do you believe him to
+be?” asked Mr Payne.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“I traced him to Frewenham, in
+——shire,” answered Fane.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Frewenham! God bless me!
+Why, my daughter’s place, Larches,
+is close to that. I’m going down
+there in a day or two to see Orelia.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Orelia!” exclaimed Fane; “then
+Miss Payne is your daughter.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Oh, you have met, then, perhaps?”
+said Mr Payne, with interest;
+“where and when?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“At the Heronry,” said Fane.
+“My troop is at Doddington, the
+town nearest to where Miss Payne
+was staying.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Oh, ho! this is fortunate,” said
+Mr Payne. “As soon as your uncle
+gets better, we will go down together
+to Frewenham. My friend Levitt,”
+he resumed presently, “is, I see,
+much disappointed to find his surmises
+as to your matrimonial prospects
+incorrect. He had set his
+heart on their fulfilment; and some
+expressions of admiration for some
+lady, in a late letter of yours, prepared
+him to expect something of the
+kind.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Fane coloured deeply. He remembered,
+indeed, that, writing to his
+uncle one evening, after a delightful
+afternoon passed with Lady Lee, he
+had suffered his admiration to overflow
+in expressions which, though
+they seemed to him slight compared
+with the merits of the subject, were
+yet, perhaps, sufficiently warm to
+warrant his uncle’s inferences. It
+was some comfort to remember that
+he had not mentioned her name in
+this premature effusion.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“My uncle seems to have quite a
+monomania on the subject of my becoming
+a Benedict,” he said presently,
+by way of breaking an awkward
+silence. “His doctrine would have
+seemed more consistent had he inculcated
+it by example as well as by
+precept. One doesn’t often see a
+more determined bachelor.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“A love affair was the turning-point
+of your uncle’s life,” said Mr
+Payne. “He knows and feels that
+a different, and how much happier
+man he might have been, but for an
+early disappointment, and that makes
+him so desirous to see you comfortably
+established.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Now, do you know,” said Fane,
+“I can’t, by any effort of imagination,
+fancy my uncle in love. His
+proposals, if he ever reached that
+point, must have been conveyed in
+an epigram.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Your uncle is a good deal changed,
+in every respect, within the last few
+years, especially since that sad business
+of poor Langley,” said Mr Payne;
+“but I scarcely recognise in him now
+my old (or rather, I should say, my
+young) friend Levitt. However, you
+may take my word for it, Captain
+Durham, that your uncle knew what
+it was, some five-and-twenty years
+ago, to be desperately in love. He
+seemed, too, to be progressing favourably
+with the object of his affections,
+till a gay young captain in the
+Guards turned her head with his
+attentions—Captain, afterwards Colonel
+Lee.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“What! Bagot!” said Fane.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Ah, you know him, then,” said
+Mr Payne; “then you also know it
+was no great alleviation to your
+uncle’s disappointment to find a man
+like Colonel Lee preferred to him.
+Lee, it seems, had no serious intentions,
+and jilted her—and your uncle
+disdained to renew his suit.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This account seemed to Fane to
+throw a good deal of light upon parts
+of his uncle’s character which he had
+hitherto been unable to fathom.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Yes,” resumed Mr Payne, “yes;
+your uncle is a great advocate for
+marriage, and certainly ’tis all very
+well in its way, though, perhaps,” he
+added dubiously, in an under tone, to
+himself—“perhaps it may be done
+once too often.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Here Mr Payne left Durham while
+he went up-stairs to visit his sick
+friend, and presently returned to say
+he had found him asleep, and thought
+he had better not be disturbed again.
+Shortly afterwards, finding Durham
+more disposed to ruminate over what
+he had heard than to converse, he
+bid him good night, and went to
+bed.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Fane’s meditations were interrupted
+by Miss Betsey, who came in, not
+altogether free from an odour of gin-and-water,
+to express her gratification
+at seeing him well. Miss Betsey
+was a thin old lady, with an unsteady
+eye, and a nose streaked with little
+veins, like a schoolboy’s marble. She
+wore on her head the most wonderful
+structure, in the shape of a cap, ever
+seen. It was a kind of tower of muslin,
+consisting of several stories ornamented
+with ribbons, and was fastened
+under her chin with a broad band
+like a helmet. Her aged arms protruded
+through her sleeves, which
+were tight as far as the elbow, and
+sloped out wider till they terminated
+half-way to her wrist, where a pair of
+black mittens commenced.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Your dear uncle’s been bad, indeed,”
+said Miss Betsey, taking a
+pinch of snuff. “I a’most thought
+we should have lost him, Mr Durham;
+but he’s better now, poor dear. But
+there’s no knowing what might happen
+yet,” said Miss Betsey, shaking
+her head; “and I’ve had a thought
+concerning you, and him, and another,
+Mr Durham.” Here Miss Betsey
+closed her snuff-box—which was
+round, black, and shining, and held
+about a quarter of a pound of princes’
+mixture—and, putting it in her ample
+pocket, laid the hand not occupied
+with snuff on Fane’s shoulder with
+amiable frankness, which gin-and-water
+generates in old ladies. “Mr
+Durham, your dear uncle’s never forgot
+your cousin, Master Langley—and
+’twould be a grievious thing if he
+was to leave us” (a mild form of
+hinting at Mr Levitt’s decease) “without
+forgiving him. Couldn’t you put
+in a word, Mr Durham, for your dear
+cousin?”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“The very thing I intend, Miss
+Betsey,” returned Fane, “as soon as
+it can be done effectually.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Ah, Mr Durham,” the old lady
+went on, waxing more confidential,
+“your dear uncle’s fond of you, and
+well he may be, but you’re not to him
+what Master Langley was;—no,”
+repeated the old lady, shaking her
+forefinger, and looking sideways at
+him, “not what Master Langley was;
+and your dear uncle’s never been like
+the same man since that poor dear
+boy left us.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“You seem to be quite as fond of
+him as my uncle ever could have been,
+Miss Betsey,” Fane remarked.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Fond!” said Miss Betsey, “who
+wasn’t? He had that coaxing way
+with him that he could”—she completed
+the sentence by flourishing her
+forefinger in the air, as if turning an
+imaginary person round it. “Everybody
+was fond of him;—the maids
+(the pretty ones in particular) was
+a’most too fond of him—so much so,
+that it rather interfered with their
+work.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Fane’s smile at this proof of his
+cousin’s irresistibility called forth a
+playful tap on the shoulder from the
+old virgin, who presently afterwards
+dived down into her pocket for her
+snuff-box, and, screwing off the lid,
+which creaked like the axle of a stage
+waggon, stimulated her reminiscences
+with a pinch.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Well-a-day! your uncle’s never
+been the same man since. You don’t
+know, perhaps” (whispering in a tone
+that fanned Fane’s cheek with a zephyr
+combined of gin-and-water and
+princes’ mixture), “that he keeps
+Master Langley’s room locked up the
+same as the poor boy last left it, do
+you? There now, I said so,” giving
+him a gentle slap on the back, and
+retreating a pace, as he answered in
+the negative; “for all you lived here
+weeks together, on and off, you never
+knew that. Come with me,” added
+the old lady; “I’ve got the key, and
+we’ll go in there together.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Fane willingly followed her, taking
+deep interest in all fragments of his
+cousin’s history. Arriving at the door
+of a room looking out on the lawn,
+Miss Betsey stopped, and, after some
+protracted fumbling at the keyhole,
+opened it. “Once or twice, when he
+thought nobody was watching him,
+I’ve seen your uncle coming out of
+this door with tears in his blessed
+eyes,” said she, as she entered, preceding
+him with the candle.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The rooms were, as Miss Betsey
+had said, just as their former occupant
+had left them. The pieces of a fishing-rod,
+with their bag lying beside
+them, were scattered on the table,
+together with hackles, coloured worsteds,
+peacocks’ herls, and other materials
+for fly-making. An open book
+was on the window-seat, and an unfinished
+sketch in oils stood on an
+easel.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“There,” said Miss Betsey, holding
+the candle up to a painting over
+the mantelpiece, “there you see the
+dear fellow taking a leap that none of
+the others would face. Your uncle
+was so proud of that deed that he got
+it painted, as you see—and a pretty
+penny it cost him. There were other
+likenesses of him here, but your uncle
+put ’em all away before you came
+from Indy.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Fane approached to look at the
+picture, which set at rest any uncertainty
+that might remain as to his
+cousin’s identity with the rough-riding
+corporal. There was the same handsome
+face, only younger, and without
+the mustache. The same gay air and
+easy seat that distinguished the dragoon
+Onslow on horseback appeared
+in the sportsman there represented,
+who rode a gallant bay at a formidable
+brook, with a rail on the farther side.
+The work was highly artistic, being
+the production of a famous animal-painter.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At this stage of the proceedings
+Miss Betsey’s feelings seemed to overpower
+her. She wept copiously, and
+even hiccupped with emotion; and,
+setting the candle on the table, abruptly
+retired.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Fane lingered round the room, looking
+at the backs of the books, and
+turning over portfolios of drawings,
+which would, of themselves, have
+identified the hand that produced
+them with Onslow’s, as exhibited in
+the sketch-book of Orelia. Among
+these was a coloured drawing of his
+uncle—a good likeness—and another
+of the artist himself. Fane, looking at
+the bold frank lineaments, internally
+pronounced it impossible that their
+possessor could have been guilty of
+the mean and criminal action imputed
+to him. He pictured to himself, and
+contrasted his cousin’s condition before
+he lost his uncle’s favour, with
+his life as a soldier, and decided it to
+be contrary to experience that any
+one could, under such a startling
+change of circumstances, have behaved
+so well, had he been conscious
+of guilt.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>After some time spent in these and
+similar meditations, suggested by the
+objects around him, he went out and
+locked the door. Passing the housekeeper’s
+room, he went in to leave the
+key. Miss Betsey appeared to have
+been soothing her emotions with more
+gin-and-water, for she sat still in her
+elbow-chair, with her wonderful structure
+of cap fallen over one eye, in a
+manner that rather impaired her dignity,
+while she winked the remaining
+one at him with a somewhat imbecile
+smile.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“Come, Miss Betsey,” said Fane,
+“let me see you to bed.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Miss Betsey rose, and, taking his
+offered arm, they proceeded slowly
+along the passage together. “By
+Jove,” thought Fane, “if those youngsters,
+Bruce and Oates, could see me
+now, what a story they’d make of it!”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>“You must make haste and get a
+wife, Mr Durham,” said Miss Betsey,
+whose thoughts seemed to be taking
+a tender hue—“though, to be sure,
+you’re not such a one for the ladies
+as Mr Langley was”—and here the
+old lady commenced the relation of
+an anecdote, in which a certain housemaid,
+whom she stigmatised as a
+hussy, bore a prominent part, but
+which we will not rescue from the
+obscurity in which her somewhat indistinct
+utterance veiled it.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Fane opened the old lady’s bedroom
+door, and, putting the candle on the
+table, left her, not without a misgiving
+that she might possibly set fire
+to her cap, and consequently to the
+ceiling. This fear impressed him so
+much that he went back and removed
+it from her head, and with it a row
+of magnificent brown curls, which
+formed its basis, and, depositing the
+edifice, not without wonder, on the
+drawers, he wished her good night,
+and retreated; but, hearing her door
+open when he had got half-way along
+the passage, he looked back, and saw
+Miss Betsey’s head, deprived of the
+meretricious advantages of hair, gauze,
+and ribbon, protruded shiningly into
+the passage, as she smiled, with the
+utmost blandness, a supplementary
+good night.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_360'>360</span>
+  <h2 class='c002'>CORAL RINGS.<a id='r5'></a><a href='#f5' class='c008'><sup>[5]</sup></a></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c009'>Montgomery’s well-known lines
+in praise of the coral polyps have
+given these animals a tolerable share
+of poetical celebrity. Mr Darwin’s
+ingenious researches have invested
+them with a degree of importance
+which elevates them to the rank of a
+great geological power. These minute
+creatures are now entitled to a
+larger share of consideration than the
+greatest and most skilful of quadrupeds
+can claim. All the elephants
+and lions which have been quartered
+in this world since its creation—all
+the whales and sharks which have
+prowled about in its waters—have
+done much less to affect its physical
+features, and have left far slighter
+evidences of their existence, than the
+zoophytes by whose labours the coral
+formations have been reared. For the
+most colossal specimens of industry
+we are indebted to one of the least
+promising of animated things. Comparing
+their humble organisation with
+that of other tribes, we feel pretty
+much the same sort of surprise as a
+man might express were he told that
+the pyramids and temples of antiquity
+had not been constructed by Egyptians
+or Romans, but by a race like
+the Earthmen of Africa, or by a set of
+pigmies like the Aztecs now exhibiting
+in London.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Though the works now before us
+have been long in the hands of the
+public, the substance of their contents
+is far from being generally known.
+Yet the beauty of the results at which
+their authors have arrived, and the
+interest with which they have invested
+the coral reefs, may well recommend
+these volumes to universal perusal.
+While Dana, more than all his predecessors,
+has illustrated the natural
+history of the little gelatinous creatures
+by which the coral is secreted,
+Darwin has described the growth and
+consolidation of their labours into
+lofty and extended reefs, and connected
+these with the broadest and
+most striking phenomena of physical
+geology. The toiling of the minute
+zoophytes in the production of vast
+masses of coral rock which wall round
+whole islands, and stretch their mural
+barriers across deep and stormy seas,
+he has shown to be successful only
+through the conjoined operation of
+those wonderful physical forces which
+are now lifting and now lowering large
+areas of the earth’s surface.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mr Darwin’s views not only exhibit
+a charming sample of scientific induction,
+but carry with them such an air
+of probability, that the most cautious
+investigators may subscribe to them
+without any particular demur. Being
+the result of very extensive inquiries,
+and confirmed by collating the peculiarities
+of many reefs, they are
+grounded upon a sufficient quantity
+of data to entitle them to reasonable
+confidence. We propose, in the present
+article, to indicate some of the
+principle steps in the theory which
+this gentleman has propounded; and
+that the reader may examine them
+consecutively, we shall imagine an intelligent
+voyager visiting the Pacific
+for the first occasion in his life. As
+he sails across that noble sheet of
+water, observing with a philosophic
+eye every object which presents itself
+to his view, he suddenly perceives in
+the midst of the sea a long low range
+of rock against which the surf is breaking
+with a tremendous roar. He is
+told that this is a coral reef; and having
+read a little respecting these curious
+productions, he resolves to investigate
+them carefully, in order to
+fathom, as far as possible, the mystery
+of their origin. As he approaches, the
+spectacle grows more interesting at
+every step. Trees seem to start up
+from the bosom of the ocean, and to
+flourish on a beach which is strewed
+with glistening sand, and washed by
+the spray of enormous billows. When
+sufficiently near to survey the phenomenon
+as a whole, he perceives that
+he has before him an extensive ring
+of stone, set in an expanse of waters,
+and exhibiting the singular form of an
+annular island. Launching a boat,
+and following the curve of the shore
+for some distance, he finds at length
+an opening through which he penetrates
+into the interior of the ring.
+Once entered, he floats smoothly on a
+transparent lake of bright green water,
+which seems to have been walled
+in from the rest of the ocean, as if it
+were a preserve for some sort of nautical
+game, or a retreat for the more
+delicate class of marine divinities.
+Its bed is partially covered with pure
+white sand, but partly also with a
+gay growth of coral—the stems of this
+zoophyte branching out like a plant,
+and exhibiting the most brilliant diversities
+of colour, so that the floor of
+the lake glows like a sunken grove.
+All the hues of the spectrum may be
+seen gleaming below, whilst fishes
+scarcely less splendid in their tints
+glide to and fro in search of food
+amidst this shrubbery of stone. A
+fringe of trees, consisting principally
+of graceful palms, decorates the inner
+portion of the ring, and when surveyed
+from the centre of the lagoon,
+this edging of verdure springing up in
+the midst of the Pacific presents one
+of the most picturesque sights the
+voyager can conceive. Indeed, as he
+contemplates the tranquil lake within,
+and listens to the dash of the surf
+without—as he runs over the features
+of this beautiful oasis in the wilderness
+of waters, we may pardon him if he
+almost expects to be accosted by
+ocean nymphs or startled mermaids,
+and indignantly expelled from their
+private retreat.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The whole structure is so striking,
+that the most careless observer must
+feel some little curiosity to ascertain
+its origin. Our voyager regards it
+with much the same sort of interest
+as an intelligent wanderer would display,
+were he to stumble upon a ring
+of blocks like those at Abury or Stonehenge
+in some distant desert. In order
+to pursue his inquiries systematically,
+he proceeds to note down the
+principal characteristics of the scene.
+The first peculiarity which arrests his
+consideration, is the circular form
+which the rock assumes. Though far
+from constituting a smooth and perfect
+ring, its outline is sufficiently definite
+to rivet the attention at once.
+Then he observes that the outer portion
+of the annulus scarcely rises above
+the level of the sea, whilst the inner
+portion—the bank on which the belt
+of trees is mounted—is not more than
+ten or twelve feet in height at the
+utmost. From this he infers that
+the agency concerned in the formation
+of the structure was probably restricted
+in its upward range. Next he notices
+that the ring itself—that is, the wall
+of rock enveloping the lake, though
+by no means uniform in breadth—is
+not more, perhaps, than three or four
+hundred yards across in any part of
+its extent: this seems to say, that the
+agency was also restrained by circumstances
+in its lateral expansion. Again,
+as he runs his eye along the whole
+sweep of the reef, he remarks that it
+is not quite continuous, the ring being
+broken here and there by openings,
+through one of which he himself
+passed into the lagoon. If he then
+endeavours to estimate the size of the
+whole formation with its included
+lake, he may find it in this particular
+case to be eight or ten miles in circumference.
+Should he stoop down
+to examine the material of which the
+reef is composed, he will discover it
+to be dead coral rock mixed with sand
+where it is not washed by the sea;
+but on breaking off a fragment where
+it is covered with water, he may observe
+multitudes of little worms, or
+curiously shaped polyps, which, incompetent
+as they seem, are in reality
+the architects of the pile. But perhaps
+the most significant circumstance to
+be noticed is the difference in depth
+between the internal lagoon and the
+external ocean. If he takes soundings
+within the reef, he ascertains that the
+water is comparatively shallow, the
+slope of the rock beneath the lake
+being tolerably gentle, and the depth
+rarely more than thirty or forty
+fathoms. Let him cross the ring,
+however, pushing his way through
+the belt of trees; and on trying the
+experiment in the contrary direction,
+seawards, he finds that the ground
+shelves downwards gradually under
+the water, until it reaches a depth of
+five-and-twenty fathoms, after which
+it plunges precipitously into the abyss.
+So abrupt, indeed, does the descent
+become when this point has been attained,
+that at the distance of a hundred
+yards from the reef he cannot
+reach the bottom of the sea with a
+line of two hundred fathoms. If,
+then, our explorer were capable of
+existing under water for a while, and
+could be lowered to the bed of the
+ocean, he would see before him an
+enormous cone or mound of rock
+shooting upwards through the liquid
+to a prodigious height, its summit
+being hollowed into a kind of cup or
+shallow basin, the rim of this lofty
+vase just peering above the level of
+the waves, and its interior being partially
+inlaid with a gorgeous and
+flower-like growth of coral.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Now, without glancing at minor
+details, it must be admitted that our
+voyager has stumbled upon a fine
+physical problem. As the Round
+Towers of Ireland have constituted
+one of the most perplexing questions
+on shore, so these coral towers of the
+tropics seem to present an equally
+perplexing mystery for the sea. In
+the course of his researches, however,
+he detects a circumstance which appears
+to be perfectly paradoxical.
+Climbing the cliff from the bottom of
+the ocean, he perceives that the creatures
+which produce the coral cannot
+exist at any greater depths below the
+surface than from twenty to five-and-twenty
+fathoms. Within that limit,
+upwards, the rock is covered with
+life; below, it is tenantless and dead.
+Yet, descending as the structure of
+coral does to immeasurably greater
+depths, the question naturally arises—how
+could the animal ever toil
+where it cannot even live? How has
+that part of the edifice, which lies
+buried in a region where no sunbeam
+ever pierces, been built by architects
+whose range of activity is comparatively
+so restricted?</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Brooding over an inquiry, which
+only adds fuel to his curiosity, he proceeds
+on his cruise. He has already
+noted the prominent features of one
+particular reef, which exhibits a coral
+construction in its simplest shape—namely,
+as a ring enclosing a lagoon.
+He now falls in with specimen after
+specimen of a similar class, and carefully
+observes the differences in character
+they present. In point of shape,
+he finds that some are oval, others
+greatly elongated, and many very
+jagged and irregular in their form.
+Here is one like a bow, and there
+another like a horse shoe, whilst none
+can be said to be geometrically round.
+In regard to size, he meets with reefs
+which are a single mile only in diameter,
+and then with others, which
+amount to as many as fifty, sixty, or
+even more. If he compares the
+various rings, he observes that some
+are perforated by few openings, and
+in rare cases there are none—the
+fissures having apparently been filled
+up with sand or detritus, so as to form
+a continuous girdle round the lake.
+But, in other instances, the reef is so
+freely intersected by these openings,
+that the ring itself may be said to
+consist of a series of small islands
+arranged upon an extensive curve.
+In general, however, he perceives that
+the channels connecting the ocean
+with the lagoon are confined more
+especially to that side of the structure
+which is least exposed to the
+action of the wind; and as he is sailing
+within the region of the trade-winds,
+the portion of the reef which
+fronts the breeze and the billow perpetually,
+appears to be more lofty and
+substantial than the other. Glancing,
+too, at the bank which carries the
+fringe of trees, he observes that it
+never seems to rise higher than a certain
+level in any case whatever; and
+as he finds that it consists chiefly of
+sand and sediment, he concludes that
+it has been heaped up by the waves
+themselves. The vegetation, indeed,
+which frequently gives such a gay
+and graceful aspect to coral rocks,
+does not always gladden the eye;
+but where it is wanting, he infers
+that the circumstances which favour
+the dissemination of seeds or the
+growth of plants, have failed to operate
+as yet, but may, perhaps, in process
+of time produce their accustomed
+effects. Comparing also the depth of
+the lagoons with that of the surrounding
+ocean, he ascertains that the striking
+discrepancy which attracted his
+attention in the first reef he examined,
+obtains to a considerable degree in
+every subsequent instance: however
+shallow the sea may be within the
+ring, its depth rapidly increases, and
+frequently becomes quite unfathomable
+at no great distance without.
+Finding, then, that though certain differences
+exist in the formations he has
+already inspected, yet certain general
+features of resemblance invariably
+prevail, he concludes that all of these
+structures are due to the operation of
+a kindred agency. But here there
+arises another perplexing question.
+If he must admit—and the admission
+is inevitable—that the coral polyps
+have been the builders of these piles,
+how can he suppose that a number of
+small animals, each labouring separately,
+as it were, could erect an immense
+wall of rock, leagues in circumference,
+which, though far from
+regular in its composition, shall yet
+exhibit any marked approach to a
+circle, an oval, a horse shoe, or any
+other symmetrical form? Still more,
+how could they build, not one, but innumerable
+reefs, differing in various
+particulars, but all indicating some
+common principle of construction?
+How is he to explain the appearance
+of co-operation, where, from the nature
+of the creatures, he cannot imagine
+any intentional co-operation to exist?
+A troop of moles working beneath a
+field will never cast up a succession
+of hillocks in such a way that they
+will all combine to form a spacious
+circle, or any other regular and definite
+figure. If, therefore, he is compelled
+to believe that a number of insignificant
+creatures like the coral polyps
+are capable of executing such prodigious
+undertakings, wanting, as they
+do, the intelligence which enables
+higher beings to carry out a coherent
+scheme, he must look for an explanation,
+not in the <i>instincts</i> of the animals,
+but in the <i>conditions</i> under
+which they pursue their toils.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Hitherto, however, our voyager has
+only encountered reefs of one class—namely,
+“atolls,” or lagoon islands.
+He looks anxiously, therefore, in the
+hope of falling in with a specimen of
+a different description. He knows
+that if a process is too slow in its action
+to admit of direct observation, yet its
+character may probably be ascertained
+by comparing several cases where the
+same agency is employed—that is, by
+criticising the phenomenon in distinct
+stages of development. He proceeds
+on his voyage, and at length is fortunate
+enough to meet with a coral formation
+which varies in type from those
+already inspected. There is the same
+sort of ring springing hastily from the
+sea; but instead of an internal lagoon,
+the central space is occupied by a
+beautiful and populous island, leaving
+only a belt of water between the reef
+and the shore. Where all the elements
+of such a scene are sufficiently
+defined, a more charming spectacle
+can hardly be conceived. The land
+appears like a pleasant picture framed
+in coral. Round a group of mountains,
+forming the nucleus of the isle,
+there runs a verdant zone of soil—next
+comes a girdle of tranquil water—then
+a ring of coral—and last, a band
+of snowy breakers, where the swell of
+the ocean is shattered into surf. The
+island of Tahiti, whose mountains
+rise to the height of seven thousand
+feet, and whose greatest breadth is
+about thirty-six miles, is almost encompassed
+by a reef of this description.
+When this spot is approached
+so as to make the separate objects
+visible, the appearance becomes quite
+striking. “Even upon the steep surface
+of the cliff, vegetation abounds;
+the belt of low land is covered with
+the tropical trees peculiar to Polynesia,
+while the high peaks and wall-faced
+mountains in the rear are covered
+with vines and creeping plants. This
+verdure is seen to rise from a quiet
+girdle of water, which is again surrounded
+by a line of breakers dashing
+in snow-white foam on the encircling
+reefs of coral.”<a id='r6'></a><a href='#f6' class='c008'><sup>[6]</sup></a> Perhaps, however,
+the descent of the waves upon the
+ring—curling and chafing like coursers
+suddenly curbed—constitutes the most
+magnificent feature of the scene. “The
+long rolling billows of the Pacific,
+arrested by this natural barrier, often
+rise ten, twelve, or fourteen feet above
+its surface, and then, bending over
+it, their foaming tops form a graceful
+liquid arch, glittering in the rays of a
+tropical sun, as if studded with brilliants;
+but before the eyes of the
+spectator can follow the splendid
+aqueous gallery which they appear to
+have reared, with loud and hollow roar
+they fall in magnificent desolation,
+and spread the gigantic fabric in froth
+and spray upon the horizontal and
+gently broken surface of the coral.”<a id='r7'></a><a href='#f7' class='c008'><sup>[7]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>With a reef like this before him our
+explorer may now collect some additional
+data which will help him a few
+steps onward in his inquiry. The distinction
+between a formation of this
+class and those of the former description,
+consists principally in the substitution
+of an internal island for a
+lagoon. Were that island pared
+away or dug out, a simple lake surrounded
+by a ring of coral rock would
+be left. The one structure would
+pass into the other by the erasure of
+the central land. But here again he
+has stumbled over a difficulty apparently
+as great as any he has previously
+encountered; for it would be
+preposterous to suppose that large
+areas or lofty hills could be readily
+expunged from the surface of the
+earth. There is a stage, however—call
+it rather a pause—in the reasoning
+process, when the great master of
+inductive logic recommends that, after
+having arranged all our available facts,
+and extracted from them all the inferences
+they can legitimately supply,
+we should allow the mind to take a
+little leap forward, just by way of
+venture, and see what conclusions it
+will suggest. In short, we are to
+send for the imagination, yoke it to
+the materials we have accumulated,
+and observe in what direction it will
+conduct us. Our explorer does this.
+He sets that faculty to work—with
+due discretion, however—and in a
+short time it hints to him that islands
+may possibly <i>sink down slowly</i> in the
+ocean by the action of the subterranean
+forces. And if so, would not
+that explain everything?</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>He proceeds, therefore, to inquire
+how this supposition will work; for
+there are many conditions which it
+must satisfy, and many puzzles which
+it must solve, before its probability
+can be affirmed. In the first place,
+the coral polyps, as we have seen, can
+only operate within a limited depth of
+water, which has been roughly fixed
+at twenty or five-and-twenty fathoms.
+Mr Dana, indeed, considers that sixteen
+fathoms will perhaps measure the
+whole extent of the region assigned
+to the principal artificers. Consequently,
+when the creatures laid the
+foundation of any particular reef, they
+must have done so in shoal water, or
+in the neighbourhood of land. Next,
+where a small isle issues from a profound
+sea, it will in general be tolerably
+regular in shape; because, with
+relation to the bed of that sea, it must
+in reality be a kind of mountain:
+therefore, as the coral builders find the
+requisite range of water in the zone
+which encircles the shore, the reef they
+form will be tolerably regular too.
+Hence the circular or curvilinear outline
+which these structures generally
+assume. Then, if, after the basement
+of such a ring has been laid, the land
+should begin to descend slowly, the
+polyps must proceed to raise the edifice
+storey after storey, for thus alone
+can they keep themselves within the
+region of vitality; and here we have
+an explanation of the singular fact,
+that the reef, where it constitutes a
+true atoll, or coral-lagoon, usually
+ascends to the level of the sea. A
+singular fact we call it; because, if we
+consider how variable are the heights
+of any series of mountains on land,
+the equality of stature which distinguishes
+these marine elevations is
+certainly a remarkable result. If it
+were possible for some great giant to
+run the palm of his hand along the
+tops of the Andes or Himalayas, it
+would describe a very irregular sweep,
+rising or falling with every peak it
+visited; but were he to draw it over
+the summits of a succession of atolls,
+though these might stretch through a
+space thousands of miles in length, he
+would scarcely perceive any difference
+whatever in point of altitude. It will
+be seen, therefore, that the uniformity
+characterising these Alps of the ocean
+is a circumstance which our explorer’s
+hypothesis readily solves. But in raising
+their embankment higher, it is
+clear that the animals must build up
+vertically, and hence the abrupt or
+precipitous face which it presents
+externally towards the deep water.
+Landwards, again—that is, within the
+reef—the pigmy architects will labour
+more feebly, because it is found that
+the kind of polyps which exist in
+smooth still water are more delicate
+in their productions than their gallant
+little brethren who flourish amongst
+the breakers. This serves to explain,
+again, why there is an interval of fluid
+left between the rising reef and the
+sinking shore; but as the land subsides,
+the space which it occupies
+within the magic ring will obviously
+diminish, whilst the space covered by
+water will proportionately increase.
+The girdle of coral will not maintain
+its original dimensions, because the
+polyps will probably incline inwards,
+instead of building directly upwards;
+but the contraction of the ring will
+proceed slowly, because the wall is
+invariably steep seawards, even if it
+should not be altogether precipitous.
+Finally, when the island is fairly
+drowned, when we have got its whole
+body well under water, we shall have
+an enormous mass of coral raised by
+successive additions of coral skeletons,
+and resting upon a basis which may
+be hundreds of feet below the level of
+the sea. A zone of rock, constituting
+the rim of the structure, will just show
+itself above the waves, whilst within
+this zone sleeps a shallow lake, where
+the polyps, for various reasons, have
+not followed the growth of the ring
+with equal rapidity, or where the
+sediment deposited has not accumulated
+in sufficient quantities to fill up
+the interior. And when the lake is
+obliterated, as ultimately it may be,
+either by the labours of the feebler
+animals, or by the deposition of detritus
+from the reef, we shall have the
+platform of a new country where tropical
+forests may some day flourish,
+where towns and villages may hereafter
+arise, and where man may exhibit
+the strange and mingled play of
+virtue and vice, which has marked his
+footsteps from the first. “The calcareous
+sand lies undisturbed, and offers,
+to the seeds of trees and plants cast
+upon it by the waves, a soil upon which
+they rapidly grow, to overshadow its
+dazzling white surface. Entire trunks
+of trees, which are carried by the
+rivers from other countries and islands,
+find here, at length, a resting-place,
+after many wanderings: with these
+come some small animals, such as insects
+and lizards, as the first inhabitants.
+Even before the trees form a
+wood, the sea-birds nestle here; stray
+land-birds take refuge in the bushes;
+and at a much later period, when the
+work has been long since completed,
+man appears, and builds his hut on
+the fruitful soil.”<a id='r8'></a><a href='#f8' class='c008'><sup>[8]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Thus, it will be seen that the supposition
+of a slow descent of the land
+appears to meet the prominent requirements
+of the case; and however startling
+the assumption might seem when
+first suggested, yet the pressure of
+certain conditions, which this theory
+alone can sustain, renders its adoption
+almost, if not altogether, inevitable.
+But, says the explorer, if this hypothesis
+be correct, it should follow that,
+as the sinking isle may vary in altitude
+in different parts—as it may
+have several peaks or elevated districts—all
+these higher portions must
+be left projecting out of the water for
+some time after the lower lands have
+been entirely submerged. Accordingly,
+we may expect to discover
+coral reefs, containing within their
+circuit several small islands, the relics
+of some larger district which has died
+a watery death. And this is just
+what frequently occurs. The two
+isles of Raiatea and Tahaa, for example,
+are included in one reef. The
+group known as Gambier’s Islands
+consists of four large and a few
+smaller islets encircled by a single
+ring. The reef of Hogoleu, which is
+one hundred and thirty-five miles in
+circuit, contains ten or eleven islands
+in its spacious lagoon.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>So, again, says our explorer, as
+islands are frequently arranged in clusters,
+it should follow that, if the areas
+whereon any of these groups were
+stationed, have subsided, whole <i>archipelagoes</i>
+of coral reefs ought to exist.
+And some of these archipelagoes may
+be expected to exhibit a series of perfect
+lagoons, where the land has been
+fairly submerged; whilst others, where
+the process is less advanced, or the
+ground more elevated, ought to present
+a series of reef-encircled islands
+merely. Here also the theory is fully
+corroborated by facts. Low Archipelago
+is composed of about eighty
+atolls; and of the thirty-two groups
+examined by Captain Beechy, twenty-nine
+then possessed the internal lakes
+which we have seen are characteristic
+of this class; the remaining three having
+passed, as he believed, from the
+same condition originally to the dignity
+of closed or consolidated reefs.
+The Society Archipelago, again, consists
+of tolerably elevated islands,
+encircled by coral ledges, and lying in
+a direction almost parallel to the last.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Indeed, it will be readily imagined
+that the shape and character of the
+coral formations must be considerably
+influenced by the nature of the site
+upon which they are reared. They
+will assume different aspects according
+to the physical configuration of
+the land to be entombed. They must
+be interrupted where the water is too
+deep, or the shore too precipitous to
+permit the artificers to acquire a proper
+footing. They will exhibit breaches
+where the descent of cold streams
+from the mountain heights, or the
+presence of mud carried down by
+rivers, rendered it impracticable for
+the creatures to pursue their avocations.
+They may also adopt peculiar
+forms where the lowering of the
+ground may not have taken place gradually,
+or where, from some eccentric
+action of the subterranean force, one
+portion may have sunk under different
+circumstances from the rest. A
+reef may, therefore, be submerged in
+part, or, as in some instances, throughout
+its whole extent. Thus, in the
+Peros Banhos Atoll, forming a member
+of the Chagos group in the Indian
+Ocean, a portion of the ring dips under
+water for a distance of about nine
+miles. This sunken segment consists
+of a wall of dead coral rock, lying at
+an average depth of five fathoms below
+the surface, but corresponding in
+breadth and curve with the exposed
+reef, of which it is obviously the complement.
+Or a ring may be wholly
+submarine. The same group affords,
+amongst others, an admirable example
+of this in the Speaker’s Bank, which
+is described as a well-defined annulus
+of dead coral, let down into the sea to
+a depth of six or eight fathoms, with
+a lagoon twenty-two fathoms deep
+and twenty-four miles across. It is
+apparently a drowned atoll. Hence
+from these, or from other causes, such
+as the action of the sea, the killing of
+the zoophytes by exposure or otherwise,
+we may have several modifications
+of the model reef.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>As yet we have only mentioned two
+principal types of structure—first, the
+<i>atolls</i> or coral-lagoons; and, second,
+the <i>encircling reefs</i>. But we may here
+refer, in a sentence or two, to a third
+and an important class—namely, the
+<i>barrier reefs</i>. These are extensive
+lines of coral masonry, which pursue
+their course at a considerable distance
+from the shore, but with a degree of
+conformity to its outline, sufficient to
+prove that some relationship subsists
+between them. They do not, however,
+surround an island like the encircling
+reefs. The West Coast of
+New Caledonia is armed with a reef
+of this character, 400 miles in length;
+but in some parts it is sixteen miles
+distant from the shore, and seldom approaches
+it nearer than eight miles in
+any other quarter. This great ledge of
+coral rock is, moreover, prolonged for
+150 miles at the northern extremity
+of the island; and then, returning in
+the form of a loop, and terminating on
+the opposite shore, seems to intimate
+that, in ancient days, New Caledonia
+was of much greater extent in this
+direction than it is at present. There
+is a still more magnificent specimen of
+the barrier reef on the north-east of
+Australia. This noble coral ridge is a
+thousand miles in length. Its distance
+from the coast is generally between
+twenty and thirty miles, but occasionally
+as much as seventy. The depth
+of the sea within the barrier is from
+ten to twenty-five fathoms, but at the
+southern extremity it increases to
+forty, or even sixty. On the other side,
+without the barrier, the ocean is almost
+unfathomable. The breadth of this
+embankment varies from a few hundred
+yards to a mile, and it is only at
+distant intervals that it is intersected
+by channels through which vessels
+may enter. It is a causeway for
+giants, and yet the architects were
+mere polyps!</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is time, however, that our voyager
+should proceed to verify the supposition
+his fancy suggested. As yet
+he has adduced no proof that subsidence
+is, or has been, the order of the
+day where its results are supposed to
+appear. He knows that mountains
+and islands must not be sunk by a
+mere assumption, however plausibly
+that assumption may seem to solve
+the mystery of the reefs. Now, it is
+an admitted fact that, in certain parts
+of the globe, extensive regions have
+been hoisted up, some suddenly, some
+slowly; whilst others have gone down
+in the world just as suddenly or as
+slowly. The coast of Chili and the
+adjoining district, as is well known,
+were once elevated several feet,
+throughout an area of perhaps 100,000
+square miles, in the course of a single
+night. Sweden has long been rising
+in its northern portion, and sinking in
+its southern, as if it were playing at
+see-saw on a magnificent scale. But
+we want evidence from the coral localities
+themselves. Of course, from the
+nature of the case, the testimony must
+necessarily be somewhat limited; because
+the question relates to a tardy
+movement, operating through ages,
+and occurring in regions which may
+be wholly uninhabited, or else peopled
+by tattooed and unphilosophical savages.
+But there seems to be tolerable
+proof for the purpose in hand.
+For instance, in an island called
+Pouynipate, in the Caroline Archipelago,
+one voyager describes the ruins
+of a town which is now accessible only
+by boats, the waves reaching to the
+steps of the houses. Of course, it is
+not likely that the founders of that
+place would build their habitations in
+the water; and, therefore, it must be
+inferred that this spot is in course
+of depression. Such, according to theory,
+should be its condition, because
+it consists of land encircled by a reef—that
+is, of land which must all vanish
+before the formation can be converted
+into a true coral-lagoon. At
+Keeling Island, again, Mr Darwin
+observed a storehouse, the basement
+of which was originally above highwater,
+but which was then daily washed
+by the tide. Many other instances
+of the same sort might be advanced;
+but there is still more striking evidence
+on this point, perhaps, in the
+existence of certain reefs which may
+now be introduced as links in the
+theory, or rather as tests by which its
+validity may be tried. These have
+been styled “shore” or “fringing”
+reefs. They differ from the other
+classes in the shallowness of the foundation
+on which they rest, and in the
+closeness of their approach to the
+land—either lining the shore itself,
+or, if separated, leaving a channel of
+no great depth between the coral bank
+and the coast. Wherever these exist,
+it is clear that the soil is stationary,
+or that it must be in course of
+elevation. It cannot be undergoing
+depression, because the coral beds
+would increase in thickness, and graduate
+into another class of structure.
+And in many instances where these
+fringes abound, there is the clearest
+proof, derived from organic remains,
+and other geological evidences, that
+the land has been actually upraised.
+A resident at Oahu, one of the Sandwich
+Islands (which are all fringed),
+stated that, from changes effected
+within a period of sixteen years only,
+he was satisfied that the work of elevation
+was proceeding at a very perceptible
+rate. Indeed, in numerous
+cases of this kind, coral deposits are
+found at a height where it is as certain
+that the polyps could never have
+toiled, as it is certain that fishes could
+never have lived. But elevation in
+one quarter implies depression in another.
+And, accordingly, it has been
+shown that the Pacific and Indian
+Oceans might almost be divided into
+a series of great bands, where the bed
+of the sea has alternately risen and
+sunk—just as if in one band the crust
+of the earth had been heaped up into
+a great solid wave, and in the next
+had subsided into a huge submarine
+trough or valley. For it happens that
+the reefs abounding over one of these
+areas belong almost universally to the
+class of formation which, according to
+theory, indicates that the ground is
+subsiding, whilst those which distinguish
+the next area are quite of the
+opposite description, and intimate
+that the crust is rising. Thus, for
+example, if we select the broadest
+illustration available, it will be seen,
+on referring to a map of the Pacific,
+that there is an extensive chain of
+islands, beginning to the west of the
+Caroline Archipelago, and running
+through Low Archipelago—a distance
+of several thousand miles—the whole
+family of which belong to the type
+denoting depression; whilst there is
+another long chain of islands, corresponding
+or parallel, in some measure,
+with the first, and extending, say
+from Sumatra to the south-east of the
+Friendly Isles, most of which indicate,
+by their reefs, that they belong to the
+type denoting elevation.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The general coincidence, therefore,
+of fringing reefs with raised or stationary
+districts, and of atolls or
+lagoons with regions which appear
+to be subsiding, affords considerable
+support to the theory our voyager is
+maturing. But there is another remarkable
+criterion, which in due time
+he contrives to discover. In the districts
+where fringing reefs occur, or
+where the coral has been plainly uplifted,
+active volcanoes are frequently
+established. But where reefs of the
+contrary character prevail, these
+agents are rarely, if ever, to be found.
+Of course, where a volcano presents
+itself in any particular locality, and
+especially if it happens to be a volcano
+in a state of activity, this shows
+that the subterranean forces are disposed
+to upheave the soil above them;
+whereas, if volcanoes are wanting in
+another quarter, or if, being there,
+their activity has ceased, the conclusion
+is, that in this region no upward
+tendency at present exists. Now, this
+test, too, is in striking accordance
+with geographical fact. The two
+great chains of reefs already mentioned
+may again be adduced. In
+the series of atolls or subsiding islands
+extending from Caroline Archipelago
+to Low Archipelago, not a single
+working volcano is to be detected
+within several hundred miles of any
+moderate cluster; whereas, in the
+band or series of isles which are characterised
+by fringes, numbers of
+these powerful agents are busily engaged;
+and in some of them, as, for
+instance, in Java, the subterranean
+forces are known to be intensely energetic.
+In fact, it may be stated as a
+pretty authentic conclusion, that whilst
+volcanoes frequently appear in those
+areas where the crust of the earth is
+now, or has recently been, in upward
+motion, “they are invariably absent in
+those where the surface has lately
+subsided, or is still subsiding.”<a id='r9'></a><a href='#f9' class='c008'><sup>[9]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At the same time, it may be interesting
+to remark, that whilst busy
+volcanoes are thus shown to be irreconcilable
+with the presence of true
+atolls, yet at one period the theory
+most in fashion assumed that all coral-lagoons
+were mere submarine craters,
+whose rims had been coated with calcareous
+matter by the coral polyps.
+However plausible this hypothesis
+might seem when applied to a few
+particular cases, its insufficiency was
+soon discovered when a considerable
+number of reefs had been compared,
+and when the order of transition from
+one type to another was clearly understood.
+The vast size of some of
+these atolls—the elongated shape
+which many assume—the mode in
+which they are frequently clustered—the
+precipitousness of their flanks,
+rendered it difficult, if not impossible,
+to treat them as drowned Etnas or
+Heclas. Then the equal altitudes
+they must have attained as submarine
+mounts, is totally inexplicable, if the
+fact of the limited operations of the
+polyps be admitted; for it would be
+preposterous to imagine that thousands
+of volcanic cones could all rise
+to the surface of the sea, or within
+a range of five-and-twenty fathoms,
+and yet never overtop the waves to
+a greater height than a dozen feet.
+But, above all, the existence of coral
+rings, with land in the interior—where,
+if the theory were correct, a
+large cavity should have taken the
+place of primitive rocks, exhibiting no
+signs of volcanic action—has proved
+utterly fatal to the theory. It is
+manifest that Tahiti, for example, with
+its lofty mountains, could never have
+been the centre-piece of a huge crater;
+and it is certain that a volcanic
+vent would not assume the shape
+of a mere moat, like the girdle of
+water which encompasses an ancient
+castle.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Combining, then, the various data
+already adduced, and observing that
+there is a general harmony in the results,
+our voyager may reasonably
+conclude that his theory has now been
+mounted upon a tolerably fair basis
+of facts. He has explained the seeming
+paradoxes which thrust themselves
+upon his view at the earlier
+stages of the inquiry. He has brought
+all the different varieties of coral formations
+under the grasp of one law,
+and shown how, by the continued
+operation of a subsiding force and the
+continued addition of coral skeletons,
+the “fringing” reef would pass into
+an “encircling” reef, and this again
+would graduate into a perfect “atoll.”
+It is true that in doing this he has
+been compelled to draw a pretty picture
+of the fluctuations to which the
+earth’s crust is exposed. Large areas
+are supposed to sink in one quarter,
+and to rise in another. Here and
+there a spot which has once been
+lowered may again be uplifted; and
+this fitful movement may, in the course
+of ages, be repeated, as if to show
+what “ups-and-downs” a poor island
+may be called upon to endure. He
+knows, indeed, that his theory trenches
+upon the marvellous. Were it not
+for the light which geology has latterly
+thrown upon the pranks played by the
+Earth in its youthful days, he is aware
+that his hypothesis would be condemned
+as a thing far too romantic
+for belief.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>But perhaps the most surprising
+circumstance, after all, is, that such
+stupendous structures should really
+be fashioned by such puny artificers.
+When he turns his attention to the
+builders themselves, he finds that they
+are little better than lumps of jelly.<a id='r10'></a><a href='#f10' class='c008'><sup>[10]</sup></a>
+The workmen, who far surpass, in the
+vastness of their erections, all the
+proud masonry of man, belong to the
+lowest classes of animated things.
+They are half-plant, half-animal.
+Until the commencement of the last
+century, indeed, their pretensions to a
+higher dignity than that of marine
+vegetables was denied; and when a
+certain M. Peyssonel interested himself
+on their behalf, and endeavoured
+to raise them to a higher position in
+the scale of organisation, his proposal
+was treated with much the same sort
+of derision as if he had demanded the
+admission of monkeys into the ranks
+of humanity. These zoophytes consist,
+in the main, of a mere visceral
+cavity, containing no distinct system
+of vessels, exhibiting no decided appearance
+of nerves, possessing no
+other senses than an imperfect touch
+and taste, and certainly manifesting
+no distinction of sex. They are simply
+digestive sacs, for which a troop of
+tentacles are continually foraging:
+they eat, drink, secrete coral, throw
+off young polyps, and die, without in
+general wandering an inch from the
+place where they were produced.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Of all living things we should least
+expect that creatures so imbecile as
+these would be able to run up great
+embankments capable of repelling billows
+which sometimes roll along in an
+unbroken ridge of a mile or two in
+length, or of resisting a surf whose
+roar may be heard at the distance of
+eight or nine miles. That a feeble
+zoophyte should have the power of
+breasting the waves of the Pacific, did
+we not know it to be a fact, would appear
+a more preposterous notion than
+that of the memorable lady who attempted
+to keep the Atlantic out of
+her dwelling with a mop. No other
+animals seem to possess a faculty at
+all approaching to this: none exhibit
+a constructive propensity which leads
+to such massive results. The bee, for
+example, produces more geometrical
+works, but we cannot conceive of a
+honeycomb as large as a county, or a
+mountain of cells as tall as Skiddaw
+or Snowdon. It would be absurd to
+dream of fabricating a reef of sponge,
+though, if its animal character be admitted,
+this creature will almost hold
+as high a rank in life as the coral
+polyp; nor would it be pardonable to
+imagine that such a miserable material
+could ever become the basis of a
+new island. The beaver, it is true,
+executes very extensive dams; he is
+an excellent carpenter—perhaps the
+most skilful four-footed artisan with
+which we are acquainted; but put
+him in the midst of a boisterous sea,
+to erect a great circular rampart fifty
+or a hundred miles in diameter, with
+the billows tumbling about his ears
+continually, and he might just as well
+have contracted to build the Plymouth
+Breakwater, or the Eddystone Lighthouse.
+In fact, if we consider what
+difficulty men have in achieving their
+simplest specimens of marine architecture,
+it may be said that, were a
+whole nation of human beings set to
+work in the Pacific, they could not
+accomplish one of the colossal enterprises
+which these morsels of pulp
+silently effect.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>What renders the undertaking more
+surprising is, that these soft-bodied
+things have to <i>make rock</i> for themselves;
+they have to provide the very
+stone which constitutes the edifice
+they build; they have not only to find
+straw to produce their bricks, as it
+were, but to procure the clay itself.
+The hard coral composing their edifices
+is the internal skeleton of the
+animals, and appears to be a secretion
+from their own tissues. Chemical
+analysis has shown that it consists
+principally of carbonate of lime—upwards
+of 95 parts out of every 100—including
+also small quantities of silica,
+alumina, magnesia, iron, fluorine,
+and phosphoric acid. It is remarkable,
+however, that this secreted matter
+is harder than calcareous spar or
+common marble—much harder, indeed,
+says Mr Dana, than its peculiar
+chemical composition will explain.
+“Using an iron mortar,” observes Mr
+B. Silliman, junior, “in the earlier
+trials, the iron pestle was roughened
+and cut under the resistance of the
+angular masses of coral, to a degree
+quite remarkable, considering the nature
+of the substance operated on. So
+much iron was communicated to the
+powder from this source, that recourse
+was had to a mortar of porcelain; and
+even this was not proof against wear,
+the porcelain pestle being pitted by
+the repeated blows. The more porous
+species, of course, were crushed
+with less difficulty.” Whence, then,
+do the animals procure the materials
+which they fashion into such dense
+and enormous piles? Here are millions
+of tons of calcareous matter
+heaped up by their agency, and yet
+there is no visible storehouse from
+which they can obtain any solid supplies.
+For as the land subsides, the
+builders of the reef are cut off from
+the shore: there is little but coral
+beneath them—there is nothing but
+water around them. It must therefore
+be from the billows of the ocean
+that the creatures possess the power
+of picking out the small quantity of
+carbonate of lime which the fluid contains.
+Their food may, of course, contribute
+to the supply; but from what
+source again did the minute animals
+they devour procure their stock of
+salts and earths?</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is singular, too, to observe how
+limited is the sphere of activity assigned
+to these creatures. In order to
+complete a reef, it is not sufficient that
+one tribe or species alone should be
+employed; the Madrepores, Astræas,
+and Gemmipores are the principal masons
+engaged; but each structure exhibits
+considerable diversity of workmen.
+There are some polyps, as we have
+seen, which love the contention of the
+surf, and thrive only when exposed to
+the play of the waves; there are
+others which covet a more tranquil
+life, and prosper only in the peaceful
+lagoon. Neither could change places
+with safety, any more than the reindeer
+could barter climates with the
+camel. A reef might almost be divided
+into a number of zones, in each
+of which a particular sort of coral
+polyp finds its appropriate habitat.
+The sea-front of the ring appears to
+be partitioned into belts, like the vegetable
+regions on the slope of a mountain.
+“The corals on the margin of
+Keeling Island,” says Mr Darwin,
+“occurred in zones: thus the <i>Porites</i>
+and <i>Millepora complanata</i> grow to a
+large size only where they are washed
+by a heavy sea, and are killed by a
+short exposure to the air; whereas
+three species of <i>Nullipora</i> also live
+amidst the breakers, but are able to
+survive uncovered for a part of each
+tide. At greater depths a strong
+<i>Madrepora</i> and <i>Millepora alcicornis</i>
+are the commonest kinds, the former
+appearing to be confined to this part.
+Beneath the zone of massive corals,
+minute encrusting corallines and other
+organic bodies live.” Thus, even in
+the limited range allotted to these
+zoophytes, we have a minute illustration
+of the law which has been so admirably
+developed by Professor Edward
+Forbes—that the bed of the sea
+exhibits a series of regions, each
+peopled, according to its depth, by its
+peculiar inhabitants.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>But if the creatures which are employed
+in the erection of the reefs are
+restricted to so narrow a field of exertion,
+a very peculiar provision has
+fitted them for the work they have to
+perform. This consists in what is
+called their <i>acrogenous</i> mode of increase.
+If, for example, the zoophytes
+assume the form of a plant, it is not
+the whole mass which is alive, but
+only a very small portion at the summit
+and at the extremities of the
+branches. All the remainder of the
+stem and boughs has been converted
+into dead coral. To grow, with them,
+is therefore to mount. The skeleton
+of the young animal is hoisted upon
+that of its defunct predecessor. Some
+zoophytes, like the Goniopores, spring
+up in columns to the height of two or
+three feet; and to each of these coral
+pillars a capital of live polyps, two or
+three inches in extent, is affixed. Or
+if the creatures assume a more clustered
+or globular form, as is the case
+with many of the Astrææ, Porites,
+and others, the depth of life in the
+mass is extremely small. A dome of
+Astræas, twelve feet in diameter, is
+supposed to consist of a thin film of
+living polyps, extending not more
+than half or three quarters of an inch
+below the surface—a solid nucleus of
+coral being, in fact, merely coated with
+vitality. It is to this property of upward
+and outward growth that we
+must ascribe the prodigious power
+these animals possess. Their labours
+are <i>cumulative</i>; and hence, though in
+themselves the most insignificant of
+creatures, they are enabled to heap
+up tier after tier of skeletons, until the
+mountain which has sunk in the waters
+is rivalled by the monument they
+erect upon its site.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If we wish, however, to form some
+conception of the marvels which these
+zoophytes accomplish, we have only
+to remember that the coral formations
+in the Pacific occupy an area of four
+or five thousand miles in length, and
+then to imagine what a picture that
+ocean would exhibit were it suddenly
+drained. We should walk amongst
+huge mounds which had been cased
+and capped with the stone these animals
+had secreted. Prodigious cones
+would rise from the ground, all towering
+to the same altitude, and reflecting
+the light of the sun from their
+white summits with dazzling intensity.
+Here and there we should come
+to a huge platform, once a large
+island, whose peaks, as they sank,
+were clothed in coral, and then prolonged
+upwards until they rose before
+us like the columns of some huge
+temple which had been commenced
+by the Anakims of an antediluvian
+world. If, as Champollion has said,
+the edifices of ancient Egypt seem to
+have been designed by men fifty feet
+high, here, whilst wandering amongst
+these strange monuments, we might
+almost fancy that beings hundreds of
+yards in stature had been planting
+the pillars of some colossal city, which
+they never lived to complete. But the
+builders, as we have seen, were mere
+worms; the quarry from which they
+dug their masonry was the limpid
+wave; and the vast structures which
+have been calmly upreared in the
+midst of a tempestuous sea, are the
+workmanship of creatures which possess
+neither bodily strength nor high
+animal instinct. That duties so important
+should have been assigned to
+beings so lowly, is one of the finest
+moral facts science has unfolded. It
+is the function of the coral polyp,
+under the present geological dispensation,
+to counteract the distant volcano,
+and to repair in some degree the
+ravages of the subterranean fires. Its
+task is to fasten upon a sinking island,
+and keep its top on a level with the
+sea. The haughtiest of physical forces—that
+which sometimes shakes great
+continents—which lifts or lowers whole
+regions in a night—is often kept in
+check by the industry of these diminutive
+things. When the earth’s crust
+is collapsing, and it becomes necessary
+to fill up the vacancy, the commission
+is not given to any gigantic
+workmen, but a number of mere
+polyps are bid to labour upon the subsiding
+soil, as if to show that the
+Creator could employ the humblest of
+His creatures in executing the largest
+of physical undertakings.</p>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_371'>371</span>
+  <h2 class='c002'>THE AGED DISCIPLE COMFORTING.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c017'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line in2'>Fear not, my son; these terrors are from <span class='sc'>God</span>.</div>
+      <div class='line'>Hast thou not heard how, when Elijah stood</div>
+      <div class='line'>On Horeb, waiting while the <span class='sc'>Lord</span> passed by,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Before the still small voice, there came a blast</div>
+      <div class='line'>That rent those ancient mountains? after the wind</div>
+      <div class='line'>An earthquake, after that again a fire?</div>
+      <div class='line'>Aye, when Christ visits first a sinful heart,</div>
+      <div class='line'>The devils that abide there shake with fear;</div>
+      <div class='line'>Who can abide his coming?</div>
+      <div class='line in28'>I remember,</div>
+      <div class='line'>(How could I not?) that, in his days of flesh,</div>
+      <div class='line'>We—even we, who called ourselves his friends—</div>
+      <div class='line'>As little knew him as dost thou to-day.</div>
+      <div class='line in2'>In a dark night we sailed upon the lake,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Alone, not knowing where our Master was.</div>
+      <div class='line'>The night was dark, and dark our lonely hearts;</div>
+      <div class='line'>A moon there was, but low, and blurred with clouds;</div>
+      <div class='line'>Only upon the horizon lay a line,</div>
+      <div class='line'>A level line of light, which, near and far,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Marked the black outline of the eastern hills.</div>
+      <div class='line in2'>Stern was our toil, with every art we had</div>
+      <div class='line'>To speed our vessel; for the breeze had sunk,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Or only came by snatches—till the rain—</div>
+      <div class='line'>Then flashed the incessant lightnings, then the hills</div>
+      <div class='line'>Rang, roared, as though the thunder shattered them;</div>
+      <div class='line'>Then surged the waves against the opposite wind,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Rattled our useless cordage, rent our sail,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Rent, flapping in the tempest, and his might</div>
+      <div class='line'>Seized on our boat, and drave it at his will.</div>
+      <div class='line in2'>No man was free from fear; we knew too well</div>
+      <div class='line'>Those treacherous waves; and He, whose master voice</div>
+      <div class='line'>Had laid them cowering at his feet, like dogs,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Where was He now?—In some lone mountain wood</div>
+      <div class='line'>He communed with his Father and the angels,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And knew not that we perished there alone.</div>
+      <div class='line'>Alas! far otherwise when in the stern</div>
+      <div class='line'>He slept, amid the hubbub of the storm,</div>
+      <div class='line'>As if on priceless couches, in the pomp</div>
+      <div class='line'>Of Herod’s palace; now He was afar,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Each of us felt the terror of the night,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And each one acted as his nature was.</div>
+      <div class='line in2'>One fell to prayer; one muttered instant vows;</div>
+      <div class='line'>Another lay and wept aloud; some few</div>
+      <div class='line'>Deemed that the gale was transient, and sate still</div>
+      <div class='line'>Watching their idle nets; some, bolder, strove</div>
+      <div class='line'>To save the canvass, and the labouring mast.</div>
+      <div class='line in2'>Amongst the band were two, forever first;</div>
+      <div class='line'>One was a reverend man, of ripening years,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Whose steel-grey beard fell on his fisher’s coat,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Even to his belt; the other was a youth,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Whose face, made ruddy by the genial suns</div>
+      <div class='line'>Of five-and-twenty summers, always shone</div>
+      <div class='line'>A God-wove banner of celestial love.</div>
+      <div class='line in2'>These two were working still, to save the ship,</div>
+      <div class='line'>When the cry rose, “A spirit!” There it walked,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Or seemed to walk, the waters, and drew near.</div>
+      <div class='line'>Then he that wore the fisher’s coat cried out;</div>
+      <div class='line'>“If not to be afraid be brave,” he said,</div>
+      <div class='line'>“When fear were preservation, be not bold;</div>
+      <div class='line'>What men could do we have done; now let be,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Lest haply we be found to fight with <span class='sc'>God</span>.”</div>
+      <div class='line'>Thus spake he; but we lay down, motionless,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Struck by despair, and waited for our end:</div>
+      <div class='line'>Only the young man bared his trusting brow.</div>
+      <div class='line in2'>Then spake the Form majestic:</div>
+      <div class='line in34'>“It is I;</div>
+      <div class='line'>Be of good cheer;” and then we knew our Lord,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And took him up into the ship with us,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And fell before him worshipping, and said,</div>
+      <div class='line'>“Ah, doubt is dead; ah, blessed Son of God!”</div>
+      <div class='line in2'>Thus scant of faith were we, and ignorant</div>
+      <div class='line'>That he was with us, when we saw him not,</div>
+      <div class='line'>Or deemed him but some spirit of evil, sent</div>
+      <div class='line'>To make complete the horrors of the night.</div>
+      <div class='line in2'>Our hearts calmed with the waters, we were saved,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And knew our Master’s power, and blessed his love,</div>
+      <div class='line'>And, lo! were landed at the wished-for shore.</div>
+      <div class='line in48'>H. G. K.</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_373'>373</span>
+  <h2 class='c002'>THE EXTENT AND THE CAUSES OF OUR PROSPERITY.</h2>
+</div>
+<h3 class='c012'>TO THE EDITOR OF BLACKWOOD’S MAGAZINE.</h3>
+
+<p class='c013'>The majority of the Legislature
+and of the great Conservative party
+throughout the country have declared,
+either openly or tacitly, that our present
+commercial policy cannot be
+reversed; and, in the present temper
+of the people, such submission was
+almost inevitable. Whatever might
+be the convictions of Conservative
+statesmen as to the working and tendency
+of Free Trade, the expression
+of those convictions, and evidence,
+however strong, in support of them,
+would have fallen idly upon the ear
+of the masses, taught as they have
+been—and, indeed, are predisposed—to
+jump to the nearest conclusion,
+when tracing effects to their causes.
+They see the outward and visible
+marks of prosperity accumulating
+around them on every side. Blue
+books and merchants’ and brokers’
+circulars at length speak the same
+language and tell the same story of a
+widely-spread prosperity, which every
+man hears boasted of in his daily
+avocations, whilst exulting Liberalism
+continually proclaims to the world
+the coexisting fact of free imports. It
+is of no avail to remind those men
+that the prosperity in question is not
+that which they predicted or anticipated;
+that it is not the prosperity
+meant by the men whose most loudly-urged
+inquiry was, “How can we
+compete with the foreigner, whilst
+food is at war prices?” It is of
+no avail to remind them that the
+foreigner has not, as was promised
+us, reciprocated our generous policy,
+and that the tariffs of the world are
+still maintained in their restrictive
+character; or to point to the palpable
+fact that we have not even that
+“cheapness” of all the necessaries
+and comforts of life, which was held
+up as the great boon to be achieved
+by Free Trade legislation. The arguments,
+assumed to be conclusive,
+brought to bear against those who still
+adhere to the principles which they
+have all along maintained, are that
+the commercial and industrial enterprise
+of the country is extending—that
+our population is fully employed—that
+the revenue increases in elasticity—that
+property of every description
+maintains its value—and that,
+through the length and breadth of the
+land, there is scarcely a cry of suffering
+raised which is not at once
+drowned by counter acclamations of
+satisfaction with the existing condition
+and prospects of the great masses of
+the community.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Whilst statesmen, however, are
+forbearing, and refrain from active
+opposition to the conclusions, be they
+founded on delusion or not, drawn by
+the advocates of onward policy in the
+direction of Free Trade, it is the legitimate
+province of the political essayist
+to investigate <i>facts</i>, which lie below
+the surface from which ordinary inquirers
+derive their arguments, and to
+take care that such facts are brought
+with sufficient prominency before the
+public. The <i>suppressio veri</i> has ever
+been a favourite weapon of casuists;
+and when we see that a precisely
+opposite result is admitted by all
+parties to have followed the adoption
+of a given policy, it is reasonable to
+conclude that some suppression of the
+truth has taken place as to the facts,
+or that they do not legitimately lead
+to the conclusions drawn from them.
+We see at the present moment high
+prices of every commodity prevailing,
+whereas we were assured that low
+prices would bring them within the
+reach of the mass of consumers. We
+have dear labour in every department
+of industry, instead of the cheap
+labour which the capitalist made no
+secret of expecting as the result of
+free imports of foreign food. We
+have high freights for our shipping,
+both inwards and outwards, yet both
+Free-Traders and Protectionists prophesied
+low freights as the result of
+the repeal of the Navigation Laws.
+We have well-employed artisans, notwithstanding
+the anticipated displacement
+of their labour by the introduction
+of foreign manufactured articles.
+Lastly, the British farmer is not
+ruined; a good Providence has protected
+the tiller of the soil from the
+annihilation which was predicted for
+him; and he is enabled indirectly, by
+high prices of certain portions of his
+produce, to wring an ample reward
+for his industry from the consuming
+classes. The obvious inference to be
+drawn from such a state of things is
+that some circumstance or circumstances,
+previously unforeseen, have
+interfered to derange and falsify the
+calculations of both the great opposing
+parties in the country; and it is most
+desirable to know what are those circumstances,
+and what their past and
+probable future operation.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>To arrive at the solution of these
+questions, we may be excused if we
+refer to a notice of the industrial and
+commercial condition of the country
+given in this Magazine in June 1851,
+or a little more than two years ago.
+At that period, as admitted by the
+circulars of our leading merchants,
+brokers, and manufacturers, we were
+in anything rather than a condition of
+general prosperity. Importation of
+foreign produce was unattended with
+profit, the export trade to foreign
+markets was equally unprofitable, and
+the home demand, both for produce
+and manufactures, was seriously restricted.
+With respect to the latter,
+an eminent Manchester firm, Messrs
+M‘Nair, Greenhow, and Irvine, reported
+in their circular of March 31,
+1851—“The market is far from
+satisfactory. Complaints to this effect
+are very frequent, and determined
+resolutions <i>in favour of reducing the
+production of cloth of certain descriptions
+are becoming general on the part
+of manufacturers, who assign, with
+reason, their inability to render their
+manufactures remunerative. Vitality
+is wanted, and the absence of anything
+approaching to a demand for the
+country trade contributes necessarily
+to aggravate and deepen the dissatisfaction.</i>”
+The Shipping Interest
+was at that time in a most disastrous
+condition, freights being reduced
+in many cases fully 50 per
+cent, and far below the remunerative
+point. Such was the condition of the
+country five years after the repeal of
+the Corn Laws, and two years after
+the repeal of the Navigation Laws.
+With respect to the latter interest, it
+is important to bear in mind that the
+low freights in 1851—particularly for
+long voyages—were very generally
+attributed to the competition of the
+American shipowner, who, having a
+valuable passenger and carrying trade
+secured to him by the new conquests
+of his countrymen in California, could
+afford to bring return cargoes from
+India, China, and the markets of the
+Pacific, at much lower rates than
+British shipowners. The changed
+fortunes of the latter class afford striking
+testimony of the fact that <i>their</i>
+prosperous position, at all events, is
+not attributable to Free-Trade measures,
+or to legislation of any kind.
+A few months after the ruinous period
+to which we have referred, the country
+was electrified by intelligence of
+the discovery in our Australian possessions
+of wealth equal in amount, if
+not even superior, to that which was
+being gathered by the adventurers
+in California; and although at first
+doubts were expressed of the correctness
+of the intelligence, a large emigration
+to those colonies at once set
+in, which has continued to increase
+up to the present time. We ceased
+to hear of shipping lying idle in the
+docks of our leading seaports. We
+ceased to hear of our seamen entering
+into the service of rival countries.
+Our building-yards, both at home and
+in the American colonies, became
+scenes of unprecedented activity; and
+every branch of industry connected
+directly or indirectly with shipping,
+was placed in a prosperous condition.
+To enable the reader to form an idea
+of the amount of tonnage employed
+in this new trade, it may be stated
+that the amount of shipping which
+sailed from the port of Liverpool for
+Australia, since the first of January
+1852, to the end of July 1853, was
+175 ships of 138,500 tons register.
+These were exclusively passenger-ships.
+If we add 40 more as the number
+taking cargo or cabin passengers
+alone, which are not mentioned in the
+Government officer’s returns, we have
+in round numbers 215 ships with a
+tonnage of 170,000 tons, from the port
+of Liverpool, engaged in this new
+trade. The departures from London
+and other ports, of which we have
+not at hand correct returns, but which
+very materially exceed those of Liverpool,
+will swell the amount of tonnage
+to about 500,000 tons. Of the shipping
+from Liverpool, 52 vessels—in
+all, 46,000 tons—have been chartered
+by Government for the conveyance of
+Irish and Scotch emigrants chiefly,
+sent out by the Emigration Board.
+There were loading in Liverpool, on
+the 8th inst., 48 ships, with an aggregate
+tonnage of 33,369 tons.
+Moreover, from the nature of the
+trade, and the peculiar temptations
+which present themselves to our seamen
+to desert when they arrive in
+the colony, and proceed to the diggings,
+the wages paid them have been
+nearly double the average paid for
+other voyages.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Here, then, we have the prosperity
+of one great interest in the country
+distinctly accounted for, with which
+Free Trade has manifestly no connexion.
+Australia has saved the
+British shipowner from ruin; and it
+has done more. An increasing population,
+attracted to the colony from
+every quarter of the globe, have become
+large consumers of British products,
+and promise at no distant date
+to be still larger consumers. In the
+first six months of 1851 we exported
+to Australia 3,003,699 yards of plain
+calicoes, and 3,611,751 yards of printed
+and dyed calicoes. In the corresponding
+period of 1852 the exports
+were 1,453,079 yards of plain, and
+5,683,822 yards of printed and dyed
+calicoes; and in the six months just
+ended they have increased to 6,856,010
+yards of plain, and 5,751,431 yards
+of printed and dyed. This is in addition
+to the large quantity of these
+goods taken as outfits by emigrants,
+and the stocks which may have
+gone from our Indian and other markets.
+The hardware trade of Birmingham
+has been largely benefited
+by the consumption of Australia; and,
+in fact, there is scarcely a branch of
+industry in this country which it has
+not stimulated. Even the farmer
+owes to it much of his present position.
+The absorption of agricultural labour
+by the diggings of Australia, from
+which colony we derive the finest
+wools used in the manufacture of
+broadcloth, has, by raising the price
+of those wools, encouraged the substitution
+of an inferior article. This
+cause, and the great increase in the
+home consumption, a portion of which
+increase has been taken by emigrants
+in the shape of slops, blankets, &#38;c.,
+has contributed materially to raise the
+value of our own produce. The extent
+of this advance is thus stated by
+a leading firm in the wool trade in
+Liverpool—“The advance in the
+value of the various kinds of British
+sheep’s wool, from August 1851
+to August 1853, varies from 30 to 40
+per cent. Production has not decreased,
+but perhaps the contrary,
+while consumption is very much increased.”
+Farm produce of all kinds—butter,
+cheese, bacon, &#38;c.—have
+found in the colony a new market,
+which has greatly contributed to produce
+the high prices existing at home.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If we turn to the manufacturing interest,
+we suspect it will be found that
+much of its present boasted prosperity
+is attributable to other causes than our
+Free-Trade policy. We have had a
+considerable increase in our exports
+of cotton manufactures during the first
+six months of the present year; but
+when we inquire to what countries
+this increase has gone, we find that
+nearly the whole has gone to four—viz.,
+the United States, China, Australia,
+and the coast of Africa. The
+three last we may certainly exclude
+from the countries whose increased
+dealings with us are at all distinctly
+traceable to Free Trade. We have
+therefore to examine how far those of
+America can properly be so considered.
+The exports of cotton goods to that
+country, as given in <cite>Burn’s Monthly
+Colonial Circular</cite> for the first six
+months of 1851, 1852, and 1853, were
+as follows:—</p>
+
+<table class='table1'>
+  <tr>
+    <th class='c018'></th>
+    <th class='c018'>&#160;</th>
+    <th class='c018' colspan='2'>Plain Calicoes.</th>
+    <th class='c019'>Printed and Dyed.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c018'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c020'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c018'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c019'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'>First six months of</td>
+    <td class='c018'>1851,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>6,580,713</td>
+    <td class='c018'>yds.</td>
+    <td class='c019'>21,078,887 yds.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'>„            „</td>
+    <td class='c018'>1852,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>8,928,610</td>
+    <td class='c018'>„</td>
+    <td class='c019'>22,144,002  „</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'>„            „</td>
+    <td class='c018'>1853,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>26,428,896</td>
+    <td class='c018'>„</td>
+    <td class='c019'>49,478,800  „</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class='c010'>The shipments to that country are
+still being made on so extended a scale
+that, whilst every sailing vessel which
+can be secured is promptly filled up at
+high rates of freight, the steamers are
+actually compelled to shut out goods,
+although the rates have lately been
+advanced to £5 per ton for those
+chiefly of the class called “fine,” which
+they are in the habit of carrying. It
+is calculated that there are at present
+lying in Liverpool for shipment by the
+“Cunard” line of mail boats, more
+cargo of this description than can go
+for three weeks to come; and the
+consignees of the American or “Collins”
+line had recently a lottery in
+their office, to decide whose goods
+were to go by the steamer then loading.
+To what cause, then, can we
+attribute this amazing increase of
+our exports to America? It cannot
+be the operation of Free-Trade measures
+in this country which has enabled
+America to take from us, in the
+first six months of 1853, twenty million
+yards of plain, and nearly twenty-eight
+and a half million yards of
+printed and dyed calicoes, more than
+in 1851. We have not extended to
+<i>her</i>, in particular, any material concessions
+since the latter year. We
+have not been greater importers of
+her bread-stuffs, or of any other article
+of her production, with the exception
+of cotton. Of this great staple
+the clearances from all the ports of
+the Union to this country, from 1st
+September 1852 to 5th July 1853, were
+1,617,000 bales, against 1,577,160
+bales in the corresponding period of
+1851–2, and 1,285,173 bales in that
+of 1850–51; showing an excess this
+year of 39,840 bales over last, and
+331,827 bales over 1851. This may
+account in part for the increased purchases
+of America from the British
+manufacturer; but, on the same
+grounds, she must also have increased
+her purchases from other countries;
+for we find that, whilst her excess of
+exports to Great Britain was 331,827
+bales last year, as compared with
+1851, the excess to “<i>all</i> countries”
+was 533,386 bales, showing that other
+countries had also received increased
+supplies to the extent of 201,559
+bales: and we are not aware that any
+of those countries have been legislating
+of late in the direction of Free
+Trade; The conclusion which it
+strikes us as most likely to be correct,
+as to the cause of our increased exports
+to America, is that something
+has occurred to improve the condition
+and enlarge the consuming power of
+that country. Such, on inquiry, we
+find to have been the case; for with
+the comparatively light import of
+British fabrics in 1851, what was the
+state of the American market for those
+fabrics? We have it thus stated by
+the <cite>New York Courier and Enquirer</cite>
+of the 16th of April in that year, as
+quoted in the article to which we have
+before referred—“The very heavy
+sales made of domestic light prints
+have put an end to all inquiry for
+the foreign article; and <i>we do not
+know a case of English prints that will
+bring prime cost, whilst the majority
+must suffer a heavy loss</i>......
+Nor is the prospect better for ginghams;
+<i>few, if any, bring cost and
+charges</i>.”</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is true that reference was made
+by the American writer to accidental
+causes, which were alleged to have
+produced this unprofitable state of
+business in 1851; but it is tolerably
+clear that there must have been besides
+a want of the power to buy—and
+it is the fact that there was such
+a want—compared with that which
+exists at present. The American
+planters have had, since 1851, two
+crops of cotton, in succession, larger
+than were ever raised before, which
+have been sold, especially the last, at
+higher prices than those which prevailed
+in 1851—a year of short crop,
+as will be seen from the following
+table, made up to the 30th ult.:—</p>
+
+<table class='table1'>
+  <tr>
+    <th class='c018'></th>
+    <th class='c018'>Mobile Fair.</th>
+    <th class='c018'>Orleans Fair.</th>
+    <th class='c019'>Crop to July 5.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'>1853,</td>
+    <td class='c018'>6¾d. to 6¾d.</td>
+    <td class='c021'>6⅝d. to 7d.</td>
+    <td class='c022'>3,172,000 bales.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'>1852,</td>
+    <td class='c018'>5⅝d. to 5⅝d.</td>
+    <td class='c021'>6⅜d. to 6⅜d.</td>
+    <td class='c022'>2,963,324   „</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'>1851,</td>
+    <td class='c018'>5¼d. to 5⅜d.</td>
+    <td class='c021'>5¾d. to 5¾d.</td>
+    <td class='c022'>2,273,106   „</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class='c010'>The American farmer also has had this
+year considerably enhanced prices of
+grain of all kinds—cheese, butter, pork,
+beef, and other produce—for which
+large markets have been opened in
+California and Australia. Emigration
+has greatly swelled the number
+of the population, and thus increased
+domestic consumption. Employment
+throughout the Union is
+ample, every fresh body of labourers,
+as soon as they are landed, being
+sought out and engaged at good wages
+for the various railways, canals, and
+other public works, which are constructing
+in almost every state. California,
+with its vast mineral wealth,
+is exercising an almost inconceivable
+influence throughout the entire continent,
+enlarging and rendering more
+secure its monetary resources, stimulating
+domestic enterprise, and furnishing
+that which a new country
+most urgently requires—the means of
+extending its foreign commerce. It
+is not the Free-Trade policy of Great
+Britain <i>per se</i>, if indeed at all, which
+has rendered the United States better
+customers of Great Britain, but mainly
+the increased and unparalleled prosperity
+of the American people—a
+prosperity which, it should ever be
+borne in mind by the statesman, is
+coexistent with a strictly protected
+domestic industry.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In addition to the effect produced
+upon the industrial portion of the
+community in our own country by
+the increased demand for British
+productions to supply the wants of
+America and Australia, we must not
+omit to notice some other important
+circumstances which have been in
+operation during the past three or four
+years. We have recently been sending
+away to our North American Colonies,
+to the United States, and, for
+two years past, to Australia, large
+numbers of our population, and particularly
+of that portion of them whose
+position at home may be termed one
+of struggling for the means of living.
+Large tracts of land in Ireland, once
+thronged with this class, are at present
+almost literally unpeopled; and
+from England and Scotland many
+thousands of able-bodied labourers,
+skilled artisans, and small farmers,
+have swelled the tide of emigration.
+It may be said, with truth, that this
+is not a sign of prosperity at home.
+These classes confessedly left their
+native soil because it no longer afforded
+remunerative employment for
+their industry. Yet, indirectly, an
+increased prosperity has been the
+result of their departure, especially in
+our large towns and in the manufacturing
+districts. We feel no longer
+the pressure upon the labour market
+of continual immigration from Ireland
+to this country of a semi-pauper class,
+ready to accept employment at the
+very lowest rate of wages upon which
+life can be supported by the coarsest
+description of food. The visits of
+Irish agricultural labourers are now
+decreasing year by year; and although
+many still come to settle amongst us,
+and to partake with our own working
+classes of the advantages of continuous
+employment, they are no longer
+satisfied with that low scale of remuneration
+for which they were formerly
+content to labour.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The comparative dearness of what
+used to be their staple article of food—the
+potato—has driven them, during
+the past few years, to the adoption
+of a higher scale of living. They
+have imbibed, even in their own workhouses,
+the taste for aliments similar
+to those upon which the English labourer
+is fed. In proof of this change,
+which has been taking place in Ireland
+during the past few years, we
+may point to the fact of that country
+having ceased almost entirely to supply
+the British markets with cereal
+productions, and to its diminished exports
+of other descriptions of farm
+produce; for it is not true that this
+has been altogether caused by diminished
+production. The result is felt
+upon their arrival in this country, by
+the Irish emigrants speedily falling
+into the scale of living, and demanding
+the same wages, as our own labouring
+classes. To the causes referred
+to is, in a great measure, to be attributed
+the improved condition of those
+classes generally in every department
+of industry. Labour is no longer in
+excess of the demand for it, and commands
+a higher rate of remuneration.
+An additional portion of the working
+masses, too, have become consumers
+of both foreign and domestic produce
+and manufactures, and hence some of
+those marks of prosperity which political
+economists see in increased imports
+and customs, and excise receipts,
+and attribute exclusively to the operation
+of Free Trade. We have got
+rid of the surplus portion of our labouring
+masses; and, as the result, those
+who remain to us are better employed
+at better wages.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The operation of this change, so far
+as regards the revenue, the importing
+merchant, and the manufacturer, is
+much greater than is generally supposed.
+Below a certain scale of wages
+the working classes contribute almost
+nothing to the revenue, or to the profits
+of the importer, and comparatively
+little to those of the manufacturer;
+and the bulk of the population of Ireland
+had ever been hitherto below that
+scale, where they were in receipt of
+wages at all. Any addition to such
+wages, half of which at least is expended
+upon customable or exciseable
+commodities, tells immediately upon
+revenue and upon the profits of imports;
+whilst the remainder is probably
+expended upon the consumption of
+home productions, and thus further
+stimulates the prosperity of the producing
+classes. The comforts of life
+are sought for, instead of the mere
+necessaries being endured; and, virtually,
+an improvement in the condition
+of the labourer becomes a real
+increase in the numbers of the population.
+The United States are experiencing
+this fact in the immense
+consumption of every description of
+produce and manufactures by her prosperous
+gold miners in California; and
+Great Britain is experiencing it also
+in the consumption of the settlers in
+the gold regions of Australia. Our
+merchants had paused in their shipments
+to that colony. They feared
+that they might have glutted its markets.
+In doing this they had simply
+overlooked the fact, that a highly prosperous
+community consumes ten times
+the quantity of commodities of all
+kinds, which suffices for the wants of
+the same number of individuals prohibited
+by their position from indulging
+the tastes and desires natural to
+them. A few hundred thousand of
+diggers in Australia, with Anglo-Saxon
+habits, gathering each their ounce of
+gold per day, are equal to as many
+millions of rice-eating Hindoos in
+India, or opium smokers in the Celestial
+Empire.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Since these remarks were written,
+they have received a very striking
+confirmation from the circular of
+Messrs W. Murray, Ross, and Co.,
+commission merchants of Melbourne,
+dated 20th May. After referring to
+the high prices existing in Melbourne,
+and the rapidity with which the supplies
+of goods which had arrived up
+to that date had been taken off, the
+writer proceeds, with respect to the
+apprehended glut to be created by the
+large shipments known to be on the
+way—“Great though the quantity
+of goods to come forward may be, it
+is yet equally evident that consumption
+will keep pace with, if it do not
+exceed, the import. The fact, moreover,
+must not be omitted out of the
+calculations of operators at foreign
+ports, that the exorbitant rates current
+in Melbourne have attracted such
+large importations from all the other
+Australian colonies, that the markets
+of every one of them are more bare
+of commodities than our own. The
+consequence will be, that as Melbourne
+and Sydney will be the principal
+recipient ports for foreign merchandise,
+large transhipments must
+be made to fill up the vacuum which
+our extraordinary demand has created.
+<i>The European population of the Australias
+is estimated at 600,000, the consuming
+power of whom is equal to at
+least three times as many in England.
+Therefore, the wants of a population,
+equivalent to 1,500,000 at home, have
+to be provided for.</i> The immense
+addition which will also be made to
+these numbers by the rapid immigration
+which is, and will continue flowing
+from the mother country and elsewhere,
+must also be taken into account.
+The average immigration has
+latterly been about 3000 souls per
+week. No diminution is expected;
+on the contrary, an increase is expected.
+Some idea of the probable
+increase of the population during this
+year may be formed from knowing the
+increase which took place during the
+last year in Victoria alone, namely,
+100,000. <i>As respects our power of
+consumption, nothing need be feared by
+the foreign shippers; all the goods that
+come forward will be wanted.</i>” When
+it is borne in mind that the bulk of
+the population, described to be thus
+rapidly increasing, have Anglo-Saxon
+tastes, and consume principally British
+articles of the best description,
+we need scarcely be surprised if present
+prices at home, especially of agricultural
+produce, are not only maintained,
+but very materially enhanced.
+We find, from the same circular,
+that Australia is diverting from this
+country a large portion of our usual
+supplies of flour, cheese, &#38;c., which
+we should otherwise have received
+from the United States, thus accounting
+for the advance in prices in the
+British market already experienced.
+All other commodities, whether of
+British, colonial, or purely foreign production,
+are bringing enormous rates
+in that country. English products,
+however, such as butter, cheese, hams,
+bacon, &#38;c., are those most materially
+increased in value; and large quantities
+must go out to meet the demand,
+thus trenching still more upon
+the amount of the necessaries and
+comforts of life which are at present
+within the reach of our consuming
+classes.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>That, under all these circumstances
+combined, we have a high range of
+prices of produce existing, is scarcely
+to be wondered at; but, whilst we
+must decline to admit that such high
+prices are attributable to our adoption
+of a Free-Trade policy, we are rather
+doubtful of the fact that they are altogether
+the result of the undeniably-increased
+consumption of our population.
+Other causes are operating,
+which account, in part, for such high
+prices, irrespective of those which are
+urged by the advocates of that policy,
+and of those who attribute them to
+the prosperous condition of the country.
+We have had, during the present
+year and a portion of the last,
+decreased imports of some of the leading
+articles of foreign produce. Thus
+we have received in the ports of London,
+Liverpool, Bristol, and the Clyde,
+during the first seven months of 1853,
+only 100,080 hhds. and 13,065 tierces
+of West India sugar against an import
+of 122,300 hhds. and 15,685 tierces
+during the corresponding months of
+1852. We have received of Bengal
+and Madras sugar 401,970 bags, &#38;c.
+against 526,345 last year. From
+the Mauritius our receipts have been
+777,900 against 708,730 mats, &#38;c.;
+and from Java, and our other East
+Indian possessions 62,360 bags, &#38;c.
+against 88,915 last year. Decreased
+stocks and advanced prices naturally
+follow such a state of things. On the
+other hand, we have both increased
+imports and stocks of Havana, Brazil,
+and other foreign sugar—which, however,
+being chiefly used for refining
+purposes and for export, is not so correct
+an index of the consuming power
+of our home population. We have a
+slightly increased import of colonial
+molasses, and a considerable decrease
+of stocks. Our imports of colonial
+rum have been 19,330 puncheons only
+against 23,450 puncheons last year,
+whilst the stocks are only 15,530
+against 25,695 last year. The causes
+of this decline in the productiveness
+of our West Indian possessions, as
+well as in our imports from the East
+Indies, need scarcely be glanced at;
+and, as a just retribution, we find that
+the exports of cotton manufactures to
+the most important of the former—Jamaica—have
+fallen off from 2,413,611
+yards of plain cottons, and 2,036,598
+yards of printed and dyed, in the first
+six months of 1851, to 874,382 yards
+of plain, and 888,565 yards of printed
+and dyed in the corresponding period
+of 1853. Of another important article—tea—our
+imports during the first
+seven months of the present year have
+been less than in the corresponding
+months of last year, viz. 30,086,000 lb.
+in 1853 against 32,867,000 in 1852;
+and prices have been enhanced in part
+by the civil war going on in China, and
+by the effect of the reduction made in
+the duty by Mr Gladstone’s Budget.
+Dried fruit, which was cheapened by
+the Tariff of 1841–2, has advanced
+enormously in price; but the principal
+cause of such increase has been a
+blight, which has occurred during the
+past two years. The supply of many
+articles of home produce, too,—such
+as butchers’ meat, butter, bacon, &#38;c.—has
+been limited by the wet season
+at the beginning of this year, which
+was unfavourable to every description
+of agricultural produce. All these are
+distinctly exceptional causes of apparent
+prosperity, as shown by high
+prices of commodities, and have nothing
+whatever to do with the question
+of Free Trade v. Protection.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is not our intention here to enter
+into an inquiry as to the effect which
+the increased production of gold in
+California and Australia has produced,
+in inflating prices by enlarging the
+basis of our monetary circulation.
+Political economists of our modern
+school persist in treating the question
+of the currency as a bugbear; and in
+maintaining that the price of gold,
+irrespective of its increased supply,
+must remain, unlike that of all other
+commodities, <i>fixed</i>. It is useless to
+direct their attention to the effect upon
+prices which an enlarged currency,
+sustained by the golden treasures of
+California, has produced throughout
+the length and breadth of the American
+continent. It is useless to attempt
+to show them, although such is
+the fact, that the increased banking
+facilities gained by that country during
+the past two or three years have
+enabled her growers of grain, of cotton,
+and other produce, to maintain
+prices above what European and other
+countries could afford to pay, and to
+liquidate an almost continually adverse
+balance of trade. This much,
+however, the most strenuous advocate
+of the bullionist theory will perhaps
+admit: The mercantile community of
+this country, notwithstanding their
+imports have in the aggregate very
+largely exceeded their exports—thus
+inducing of necessity large exports of
+specie—have not during the present
+year, as we might have expected, been
+incapacitated by the position of the
+bank from holding their stock of produce.
+Money for commercial, and
+even for speculative purposes, has been
+abundantly afforded; and even in the
+face of a somewhat high rate of interest,
+advances on mortgage and for
+permanent investment have been
+readily procurable at reasonable rates.
+But for this circumstance, we could
+certainly not have sustained prices of
+imported produce; and our merchants,
+having been compelled to submit to the
+inflated ones of foreign countries, must
+have been utterly prostrated. The
+same reasoning applies to the internal
+industry of the country. Had money
+not been cheap, and easily procurable
+on <i>bona fide</i> security and for investment,
+the vast amount of enterprise
+which has recently been manifested in
+the erection of new buildings, and
+new works of every description, in the
+drainage of our soil, in the beautifying
+of our large towns, and the health-producing
+improvement of their sanitary
+regulations, must have been
+checked, until, by a restriction of our
+imports, and something approaching
+to a general commercial bankruptcy,
+we had wrung back the limited amount
+of truant specie, upon which our currency
+is based, from the hands of the
+foreigner. We are not at all certain,
+however, for what period this pleasant
+state of things may last. For many
+weeks successively we have seen the
+stock of bullion in the Bank of England
+decreasing, notwithstanding the
+large arrivals from Australia and other
+quarters; and although this may in
+part be accounted for by the increased
+amount required to conduct the enlarged
+internal trade of the country,
+there can be no denial of the fact, that
+we are experiencing a serious external
+drain, required to meet our increased
+imports. For three or four months
+past the fear of a considerably tightened
+money market, as the result of
+such drain, has very greatly tended
+to repress speculation, which would
+otherwise have run into excess; and
+at the present moment anticipations
+of an advance in the rate of interest
+by the Bank of England and the large
+discounting houses are beginning to be
+seriously entertained.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>We have, then, the following facts
+established with tolerable clearness—viz.,
+first, that nearly all the most
+important commercial interests of the
+country have been placed during the
+past two years in a condition of great
+prosperity; and, in the second place,
+that our industrious classes are now
+fully employed, at good wages. But
+it cannot be admitted that the cause
+of such a beneficial change is altogether,
+or even mainly, the Free-Trade
+policy which we have recently adopted.
+Notwithstanding this fact, we are perfectly
+ready to admit that we cannot
+at present disturb that policy, or retrace
+our steps. A large majority of
+the public believe that the change in
+question has been produced by Free
+Trade. They cannot perceive the exceptional
+causes which have been in
+existence, or these are sedulously kept
+from their eyes. A large portion of
+our working masses, during the temporary
+cheapness which followed the
+first adoption of the system, which
+cheapness was increased by the commercial
+sacrifices caused by monetary
+paralysis in 1847, 1848, and
+1849, became acquainted with luxuries
+to which they had ever previously
+been strangers. A population, whose
+staple food had been oatmeal in its
+various forms of preparation, became
+acquainted with wheaten bread, with
+tea, coffee, &#38;c., and were enabled to
+resort more frequently to butchers’
+meat. They found themselves enabled
+to be better housed and better clothed,
+as well as better fed. The change in
+this respect, which took place throughout
+the manufacturing districts especially,
+was most striking, and was
+dwelt upon as affording ample proof
+of the successful results of Free Trade
+policy, so far as regarded these classes,
+at a period when it was manifest that
+they were consuming every description
+of foreign and domestic commodities at
+prices which were ruinous alike to the
+importer and the home producer. It
+was only reasonable to expect that
+those classes, thus substantially benefited,
+would resolutely refuse to listen
+then to any proposal for the reversal of
+measures to which they were taught
+to attribute the increased comforts
+they were enjoying; and the same indisposition
+to do so continues to prevail
+now, with prices of all the necessaries
+of life materially enhanced.
+Any return to protection, however
+modified, is regarded by them as, so
+far, a return to their old diet, and to
+the discomforts of their previous condition.
+For any party to insist upon
+such a retrograde policy, would be to
+throw them once more into the hands
+of the political demagogues, from
+which they have, during the past few
+years, happily emancipated themselves.
+Without any legislative interference
+with Free Trade, however,
+the position of these masses is just
+now becoming materially changed for
+the worse; and notwithstanding the
+fact, which we have admitted, that
+employment is more abundant than at
+any former period, it is very questionable
+whether we are not threatened
+with serious difficulties and social disorganisation,
+arising from the efforts
+of the labouring classes to maintain
+themselves in that position which
+they have been taught was their
+right, and was the natural result of
+Free Trade. For some months past
+the temper of these classes has been in
+a state of almost universal ferment.
+With continuous employment superseding
+the intermittent employment
+of a large portion of them, demands
+have been made for increased wages,
+and have in most cases been conceded.
+We have had strikes of our dock
+labourers and porters for rates which
+were never heard of previously, even
+when three or four days’ work in a
+week was considered as affording a
+fair amount of the means of living.
+The same classes, on our railways and
+other public works, have given evidence
+of dissatisfaction with their position
+by similar proceedings. Handicraftsmen
+of every description have
+joined in the movement; and even the
+police of our large towns have shown
+a disposition to seek other avocations
+than those of wielding a truncheon for
+from 18s. to 21s. per week, with a
+livery. Throughout the manufacturing
+districts there has been, during
+the past three months, a large suspension
+of labour, the hands in one
+branch after another seeking advances
+of from 5 to 10 per cent, and in
+some instances attempting to impose
+conditions upon their employers.
+Turn-outs, of short duration, resulting
+in concessions to their demands,
+have served to show the operatives
+that they are now the most powerful
+body, and to lay the foundation of
+further aggressive efforts. Next only
+in importance to the increase thus
+caused in the cost of manual labour,
+the manufacturer has had to submit to
+a large increase in the cost of his fuel,
+to the extent, in some districts, of 15
+to 20 per cent—the miners in most of
+the small-seam collieries, and in several
+of the deep pits, having successfully
+stood out for higher rates of remuneration.
+The iron-miners, especially
+in Wales, have followed the example
+of their brother operatives in other
+branches of industry; and in one district
+in South Wales it is expected that upwards
+of 20,000 of the working population
+will shortly be deprived of the
+means of living by the blowing out of
+furnaces by the masters, in the endeavour
+to resist the demands of their men.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There are two or three rather important
+questions which offer themselves
+for solution connected with
+these aggressive movements of the
+working classes. Are they the result
+of a confidence, on their parts, of
+power to coerce their employers? Is
+capital being compelled to relax its
+gripe upon industry? Or are these
+movements merely the defensive ones
+of men who feel that the comforts,
+which they have been recently enjoying
+through a factitious cheapness,
+are being withdrawn by high prices
+of the various articles of consumption?
+We believe that we must attribute them
+to all these causes combined. To this important
+part of our subject we entreat
+the earnest attention of our readers.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is natural to conclude that the
+working classes must feel somewhat
+confident of the fact that, to a great
+extent, the pressure upon the labour
+market, caused by immigration of
+fresh hands into the large manufacturing
+and other towns, has been withdrawn.
+The surplus population of
+the agriculturists have either sought,
+or are seeking, new spheres for the
+exercise of their industry in other
+lands, which offer to them a surer
+prospect of permanent prosperity; but
+there is this striking difference between
+the present movement of our
+operatives and those of former years,
+that the opportunity for it has not
+been seized upon in a pressing emergency
+of the masters—that it is not
+confined to a particular class, or a
+particular district. It is, in fact, universal,
+and apparently unprompted.
+No demagoguism has been required
+to bring it about; and, with a few rare
+exceptions, we have observed characterising
+every conflict for higher wages
+the best possible feeling between the
+employers and the employed. So long
+as the latter remained in the enjoyment
+of cheap food, they were quiescent;
+and in the majority of the strikes
+which have recently occurred, the plea
+most prominently put forward has been
+the advanced price of all the necessaries
+of life. In some few cases only
+has a scarcity of labourers appeared
+to warrant a demand for advanced
+wages; and it is a remarkable fact
+that these have resulted from causes
+distinctly unconnected with Free-Trade
+policy. The carpenters in our shipbuilding
+yards, and other branches of
+industry connected with the shipping
+interest, have been enabled, by the increased
+demand for ships for the Australian
+trade, to command higher rates
+of remuneration, irrespective of the advance
+in the prices of food. The men
+employed in building trades generally—masons,
+house-joiners, bricklayers,
+&#38;c.—have been placed in a similar
+position by the internal improvements,
+and the increase of public and private
+works, which a more plentiful currency
+has stimulated throughout the country.
+But the main inducing cause of the
+aggressive attitude of the industrious
+classes, as a body, has been the fact
+that employment, at the wages paid
+from 1845 up to within the past few
+months, was insufficient to enable them
+to keep up to the standard of living
+which the cheapness prevailing in the
+greater portion of those years had
+given them a taste for. The following
+comparison of the present prices
+of a few of the leading articles, which
+form the consumption of the working
+classes, with those existing in the corresponding
+period of 1851, will enable
+the reader to draw a tolerably accurate
+conclusion with respect to their condition
+in the respective years. We
+take the prices from the authorised
+Liverpool data, as this port may be
+said to regulate those of the manufacturing
+districts:—</p>
+
+<table class='table2'>
+  <tr>
+    <th class='c023'></th>
+ <th class='blt c024' colspan='5'>1st August 1851.</th>
+ <th class='blt c024' colspan='5'>1st August 1853.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th class='c023'></th>
+ <th class='blt c024'><i>s.</i></th>
+    <th class='c024'><i>d.</i></th>
+    <th class='c024'>&#160;</th>
+    <th class='c024'><i>s.</i></th>
+    <th class='c025'><i>d.</i></th>
+ <th class='blt c024'><i>s.</i></th>
+    <th class='c024'><i>d.</i></th>
+    <th class='c024'>&#160;</th>
+    <th class='c024'><i>s.</i></th>
+    <th class='c024'><i>d.</i></th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c023'>Good beef, per lb. (carcase),</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>0</td>
+    <td class='c026'>4½</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>0</td>
+    <td class='c025'>5</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>0</td>
+    <td class='c026'>5¾</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>6¼</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c023'>Good mutton, per lb. (carcase),</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>0</td>
+    <td class='c026'>5½</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>0</td>
+    <td class='c025'>6</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>0</td>
+    <td class='c026'>6¼</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>6¾</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c023'>Good American flour, per barrel,</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>20</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>21</td>
+    <td class='c025'>0</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>28</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>29</td>
+    <td class='c024'>0</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c023'>Wheat, imp. average, per qr.,</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c026'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c024'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c025'>40</td>
+    <td class='c025'>0</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>52</td>
+    <td class='c026'>7</td>
+    <td class='c024'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c025'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c024'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c023'>Butter (best brands), per cwt.,</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c026'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c024'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c025'>74</td>
+    <td class='c025'>0</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>93</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>95</td>
+    <td class='c024'>0</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c023'>Butter low qualities,</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>65</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>66</td>
+    <td class='c025'>0</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>84</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>86</td>
+    <td class='c024'>0</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c023'>Butter American, duty paid,</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>32</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>40</td>
+    <td class='c025'>0</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>80</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>87</td>
+    <td class='c024'>0</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c023'>Bacon, best Irish, per cwt.,</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c026'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c024'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c025'>44</td>
+    <td class='c025'>0</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>60</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>63</td>
+    <td class='c024'>0</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c023'>Bacon, American, per cwt.,</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>38</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>44</td>
+    <td class='c025'>0</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>46</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>52</td>
+    <td class='c024'>0</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c023'>Pork, American, per 200 lb.,</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>55</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>63</td>
+    <td class='c025'>0</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>72</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>85</td>
+    <td class='c024'>0</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c023'>Cheese, American, middling, 200lb.,</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>34</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>39</td>
+    <td class='c025'>0</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>40</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>48</td>
+    <td class='c024'>0</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c023'>Cheese, Cheshire, middling, 200lb.,</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c026'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c024'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c025'>50</td>
+    <td class='c025'>0</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>65</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c025'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c024'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c023'>Sugar, good dry brown colonial,<a id='r11'></a><a href='#f11' class='c008'><sup>[11]</sup></a></td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>36</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>37</td>
+    <td class='c025'>0</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>36</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>37</td>
+    <td class='c024'>0</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c023'>Tea, good congou, in bond, per lb.,</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c026'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c024'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c025'>0</td>
+    <td class='c025'>11</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>1</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0½</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>1</td>
+    <td class='c024'>1</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c023'>Tallow, per cwt.,</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>37</td>
+    <td class='c026'>9</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>38</td>
+    <td class='c025'>0</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>52</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c025'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c024'>&#160;</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c023'>Coffee, fine ord. to good mid., per cwt.,</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>44</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>58</td>
+    <td class='c025'>0</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>45</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>84</td>
+    <td class='c024'>0</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c023'>Oatmeal, Irish, per sack,</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>25</td>
+    <td class='c026'>0</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>26</td>
+    <td class='c025'>0</td>
+ <td class='blt c025'>23</td>
+    <td class='c026'>6</td>
+    <td class='c024'>to</td>
+    <td class='c025'>24</td>
+    <td class='c024'>6</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class='c010'>There has obviously been upon the
+bulk of these articles an advance of
+from 25 to 30 per cent; and this advance
+has been most signal upon the
+articles which the working man’s family
+chiefly consumes—bread, butchers’
+meat, cheese, bacon and pork,
+butter, &#38;c. With respect to tea,
+which has recently formed an important
+item in their expenditure, we
+have had within the past few weeks
+a reduction of the duty. This, however,
+has been nearly met by the increase
+in price which it now commands
+in bond. We had in July last
+a reduction of 1s. per cwt. in the duty
+upon sugar, and since 1851 the total
+reduction is 2s. This also has been
+more than met by increased price,
+in the average, at least, of the period
+between 1851 to 1853, for we find
+that the price of “good dry brown”
+was, in 1852, only 35s. 6d. per cwt.
+The reduction of duty on soap is
+neutralised by the high price of the
+materials. In order to ascertain, or
+at all events to approximate to, an
+idea of the extent to which the working
+classes have been affected by the
+changes of the past two years, we
+shall take the instance of an average
+family, composed say of a man and
+wife and three children, earning the
+advanced wages of 24s. a-week. Such
+a family would consume at present,
+according to the scale of living enjoyed
+by them two years ago, when commodities
+were cheap, as follows:—</p>
+
+<table class='table1'>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Bread, produce of 21 lb. flour,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>3s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>0d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Tea, 2 oz.,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>0s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>6d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Coffee, 4 oz.,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>0s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>4d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Sugar, 2 lb.,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>0s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>9d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Butter, 1½ lb.,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>1s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>3d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Candles, 1 lb.,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>0s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>7d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Coals, 1½ cwt.,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>0s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>10½d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Soap, 1½ lb.,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>0s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>7½d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Butchers’ meat, 5 lb.,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>2s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>11d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Bacon, 1 lb.,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>0s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>8d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Cheese, 1 lb.,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>0s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>8d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Currants, &#38;c., 1 lb.,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>0s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>8d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Potatoes, 20 lb. (average price of 1853),</td>
+    <td class='c020'>1s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>3d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Sundries,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>0s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>2d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Rent, water, &#38;c.,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>3s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>6d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c020'><hr></td>
+    <td class='c004'><hr></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c020'>17s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>9d.</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class='c010'>We have thus an expenditure of
+17s. 9d. a-week for food and rent out
+of an income of 24s., leaving only a balance
+of 6s. 3d. for clothing, malt and
+other liquors, medical attendance and
+casualties. Such a scale of living
+may appear a high one to some parties,
+who have been in the habit of
+gauging the human appetite for the
+purpose of getting up statistics for
+union workhouses, model prisons, or
+model conditions of society. It will
+be found, nevertheless, to be pretty
+nearly that into the enjoyment of
+which our able-bodied working classes,
+pursuing moderately healthful though
+laborious avocations, rushed with
+eagerness during the period of cheapness
+resulting from the early operation
+of Free Trade. The cost of such
+a scale in 1851, calculated according
+to the prices of that period, would be
+about as follows:—</p>
+
+<table class='table1'>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Bread, produce of 21 lb. flour,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>2s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>0d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Sugar, 2 1b.,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>0s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>8d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Butter, 1½ lb.,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>1s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>0d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Candles, 1 lb.,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>0s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>5½d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Coals, 1½ cwt.,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>0s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>9d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Butchers’ meat, 5 lb.,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>2s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>3½d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Bacon, 1 lb.,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>0s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>6d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Cheese, 1 lb.,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>0s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>5½d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Currants, Mr 1 lb.,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>0s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>4½d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Potatoes,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>1s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>0d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>Articles in which no material reduction has taken place, including rent,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>5s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>1½d.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c003'>&#160;</td>
+    <td class='c020'><hr></td>
+    <td class='c004'><hr></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'>Total week’s consumption,</td>
+    <td class='c020'>14s.</td>
+    <td class='c004'>7½d.</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class='c010'>Thus the working man’s family in
+1851 were enjoying the same scale of
+living for 3s. 1½d. less than it now
+costs them; and would have had
+9s. 4½d. left for clothing, &#38;c., out of 24s.
+per week, if the same range of prices
+which were then existing had continued.
+Their present wages, however,
+have only been gained by them
+during the last few months. The utmost
+advance realised by any class of
+workmen has been 6d. per day; and
+such a family as we have instanced
+were called upon, by the increased
+prices to which their food has risen
+since 1851, to adopt one of these alternatives:
+Their wages of a guinea
+a-week, with 17s. 9d. of expenditure
+for food and lodging, leaving them
+only the insufficient margin of 3s. 3d.
+for clothing, medical attendance, malt
+liquor, &#38;c., they must either have
+gone back to their old scale of living,
+or insisted upon an advance of wages.
+The allowance of wheaten bread must
+have been curtailed and oatmeal substituted;
+a less comfortable dwelling
+must have been submitted to; their
+consumption of butchers’ meat must
+have been stinted; and they must
+have resigned altogether the whole,
+or a portion at least, of the luxuries
+contained in their dietary—tea, sugar,
+currants, &#38;c., to the serious loss
+of the revenue. They preferred, and
+happily for them they have been
+able to obtain, the latter alternative,
+an increased remuneration for their
+labour. It is clear, however, that
+large as this increase has been, it has
+not placed the working man’s family
+in any better position than they occupied
+in 1851. They have at present
+3s. per week more to live upon; but
+their living costs them 3s. 2d. more.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This, however, it will be said, is
+only the position of a family provided
+with constant work both in 1851 and
+at present. We readily admit that
+there is a class below this who are
+very materially better off now than
+they were in the former year. The
+condition of the working man who
+has now four or five days per week of
+employment, where he had formerly
+only three days, is materially improved,
+notwithstanding the recent
+advance in prices of commodities.
+But this is precisely the class which
+has been most materially benefited by
+the emigration of their competitors
+in the labour market, and by the activity
+which has been imparted to
+the internal enterprise of the country
+by our discoveries in Australia, and
+the enlargement of the currency resulting
+from them.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It must be tolerably clear to most
+men that no portion of our working
+classes will readily submit to a reduced
+scale of living, either as the result, or
+the fancied result, of legislation, or
+from known ordinary causes. There
+is a further source of social danger in
+the circumstance that, having been
+taught that legislation had realised
+whatever benefits have accrued to
+them since the adoption of Free-Trade
+policy, they will be inclined to look
+to further legislation in the same direction
+for a remedy, whenever,
+through an advance in the price of
+the necessaries and comforts of life,
+or circumstances at present unforeseen,
+anything may occur to injure
+their position. They have tasted
+of those comforts; and they will
+insist upon enjoying them whatever
+other interests or institutions
+may have to be prostrated in order
+to bring about that result. Indeed,
+the Ministry of Lord Aberdeen, as
+shown by their policy during the whole
+of the past session, have impressed
+upon the minds of the working classes
+the fact that nothing will be permitted
+to stand in the way of further progress
+of the policy upon which the
+country has entered, or of cheapness
+for the consuming classes. With a
+view to relieve those classes, we
+have just witnessed an impost, which
+may be almost called one of spoliation,
+authorised to be levied upon the owners
+of our soil; and, ludicrous though its
+failure has been, the operation of the
+Chancellor of the Exchequer upon the
+interest of the National Debt may be
+only a prelude to what the fundholder
+may expect from a more unprincipled
+minister. We are not at all assured
+that even the national honour will be
+permitted, without a struggle, to stand
+in the way of cheapness of the necessaries
+of life. Happily society is at
+present undisturbed by the efforts of
+the political demagogue. Our Brights
+and Cobdens, and their “peace progress”
+associates, are at present too
+small a minority to dare embarking
+in an attempt to persuade the highest-souled
+nation on earth to embrace
+degradation. But signs and portents
+have not been wanting during the past
+two months, whilst we have been upon
+the verge of a collision with Russia,
+which, combined with the temporising
+course of her Majesty’s Ministers,
+ought to be seriously weighed by every
+patriotic man. The world at large,
+reading the tenor of our trade circulars,
+and looking at the same time at our
+tedious protocolling and negotiations
+with an aggressive power, may well
+draw the conclusion that England is
+more anxious for uninterrupted supplies
+of grain from the Black Sea than
+for the maintenance of her prestige as
+the leading power in Europe; and
+reflecting men may seriously ask the
+question—how long, in the present
+temper of the consuming masses, would
+a state of warfare be tolerated with
+patience? Unprincipled persons there
+are sufficient amongst us, who, although
+at present their bad passions are without
+a profitable sphere for their exercise,
+would willingly emerge from obscurity
+to undertake the task of inflaming
+the minds of our working
+masses, and who might probably do
+so successfully if they could point to
+dear food as the result of a manly and
+consistent foreign policy.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Whatever may be the future price
+of food—and we are satisfied that it
+must maintain its present, if not a
+higher value, as measured in gold—there
+is another reason why we may
+look for a prematurely advanced rate
+of wages in this country. The great
+American continent is now bridged
+over, as it were, by a constant succession
+of passenger-ships—“clippers,”
+whose voyages rarely average
+above eighteen to twenty days, and
+of which eight or ten sail every week
+from the port of Liverpool, in addition
+to those which go from other ports
+of the United Kingdom. The postal
+arrangements between the two countries
+are as regular as those between
+London and Edinburgh. A month’s
+time suffices to exchange communications
+between this country and the
+Far West of the United States; and
+£5 or £6 will suffice to convey the
+British labourer or artisan to the
+prairies of the Mississippi, the Ohio,
+or the Western States of our North
+American colonies. Moreover, it is
+no longer to a new land, or amongst
+strangers, that the Celt and the Saxon
+now go to push their fortunes, and find
+new scope for their industry and enterprise.
+A hearty welcome awaits
+them in these countries from friends
+and relatives who have preceded
+them; and, in a majority of cases, it
+is the success of these pioneers which
+furnishes their connexions at home
+with the means of emigrating. Whilst
+high wages and prosperity prevail in
+new countries situated as the United
+States and Canada are, and must continue
+for years to be with respect to the
+old countries of Europe, it is sheer
+folly to imagine that low wages in
+those old countries can ever be secured.
+The cost of a passage across the Atlantic
+for an adult operative is insignificant,
+compared with that of a strike
+of even a few weeks’ duration; and
+the dangers and hardships of the voyage
+are regarded now, as compared
+with those contemplated by the emigrant
+a few years ago, very much
+like those attending modern railway
+travelling as compared with that by
+“the heavy stage,” which our great-grandfathers
+patronised, when the
+journey from Edinburgh to London
+was advertised to be performed in a
+fortnight—“God willing.” To a far
+greater extent than our statesmen imagined
+we are committed to the fortunes,
+and bound by the rate of labour,
+enjoyed by the working classes of the
+American Republic. If Free Trade,
+as was boasted, has placed Manchester
+alongside the valleys of the Mississippi,
+the increased facilities now
+afforded for emigration have also
+placed our operatives in closer proximity
+to their highly-paid American
+brethren. Those classes in Great
+Britain will never again succumb to
+the dictation of the capitalist, whilst
+there is afforded to them a way to
+the prosperity enjoyed by their fellow-labourers
+in the United States and
+Canada. And here a serious question
+arises for the consideration of
+those politico-economical schemers
+who have built up their expectations
+of manufacturing prosperity and enlarged
+foreign trade upon the basis
+of cheap production in this country.
+Great Britain cannot spin and weave
+for the world whilst her labouring
+population have the wages of new
+countries thus easily open, as we have
+seen, to their acceptance. We may
+command for a time the trade with
+our own colonies. The abundant
+capital of our merchants may maintain
+our commercial predominance for a
+time. But colonies situated as Australia
+and Canada are—the resort of
+the enterprise of every nation—will
+seek to be independent. Capital, the
+Free-Traders reminded us, owns no
+allegiance, and may command the
+cheap labour of countries differently
+situated to our own. It is worth the
+while of our manufacturing interest,
+whose selfishness has been manifested
+in our Free-Trade policy, to ponder
+upon the probable future operation of
+those signal events, which Providence
+seems to have thrown in the way of
+the realisation of their ambitious designs.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>But the middle classes—the men
+who exercise the franchise—surely
+these, it will be urged, are, and have
+been for some time past, in a condition
+of unqualified prosperity. The
+retailers in our large towns and boroughs,
+as distributors of commodities
+between the merchant, or the producer,
+and the consumer, must have
+been benefited materially by the enlarged
+consumption of the country.
+The assumption is a natural one, and
+yet it may be only partially true. The
+business of the retailer is one of which
+we possess no statistics. We have
+no means of gauging the results of
+his dealings. A larger amount of
+money may be passing through his
+hands now than formerly. Enhanced
+prices of every article in which he
+deals, independently of increased
+consumption of those articles, will
+account for his receipts being larger.
+But the great question to be solved
+is—are his profits increasing in the
+same ratio? It would be a healthy
+sign if we could find that the increased
+consumption of the country had operated
+to put an end to that ruinous competition
+which has for years past been
+going on amongst these classes;—a
+sign that the consumers, being in possession
+of increased means to buy,
+were willing to afford to those from
+whom they buy a fair remuneration for
+their industry and their capital. It
+would be most gratifying to find that
+puffery and clap-trap were declining
+amongst our shopkeepers; that frauds
+were less rife than formerly; that
+adulteration was no longer practised,
+and just weight and measure were
+universally meted out. We observe,
+however, none of these healthy signs
+of a profitable trade. On the contrary,
+we have evidence around us on
+every side, that the retailer has for
+some months past been placed, as it
+were, in a vice between two opposing
+conditions of the community, by whose
+custom he has to live. He has to
+fight against rising markets and dear
+labour on the one hand, and the determination
+of the consumer to insist
+upon cheapness on the other. For
+every purchase which he makes, he
+has to pay higher prices; and he can
+only extort these from the community
+after a severe struggle. He is, in fact,
+in the position of the traveller, who
+has no sooner surmounted one hill
+than he sees another on the path before
+him. It is notorious that this is
+always the case in rising markets.
+Every advance in the price of raw
+materials or other commodities is followed
+by a period of business without
+profits. Traders are withheld, by
+mutual jealousy and the fear of competition,
+from the necessary efforts for
+self-protection. Doubts intervene as
+to the permanency of such advanced
+prices. And when at length the step
+is resolved upon of demanding a corresponding
+advance from the consumer,
+it is frequently found that a
+further upward movement has taken
+place in the wholesale markets, which
+once more compels the retailer to resign
+the gain which he ought to derive
+from his industry. This has
+been the position of these classes during
+the whole of the past twelve
+months; and it is one in which capital
+is rapidly exhausted, especially in
+the case of men whose dealings are
+from hand to mouth, and whose
+means are limited. The tradesman
+of large means and extensive credit
+may buy a stock in advance of his
+consumption; and thus for a time
+protect himself from the loss which
+rising wholesale markets, unattended
+with higher retail prices, would occasion;
+but the small capitalist has no
+such resource. He is continually reversing
+the principle extolled by the
+Free-Trader, by buying in the dearest
+market and selling in the cheapest.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The severity of this operation of
+rising markets has been very greatly
+increased on the present occasion by
+the prevailing temper and opinions
+of the consuming classes, especially
+throughout the manufacturing districts.
+They have been taught that
+free imports were to bring about a
+permanently low range of the prices
+of all commodities; and they are disposed
+to regard and to resist high
+prices, as the result of speculation on
+the part of the capitalist, or undue
+extortion on the part of the retailer.
+When being charged 8d. for a pound
+of beef or bacon, which a year ago
+was only worth 6d., or 10d. for a
+pound of butter, which a year ago
+was sold at only 7d., they have regarded
+the extra charge as something
+approaching to a fraud. It is of no
+use reminding those persons that they
+are themselves demanding from the
+community a higher price for their
+labour; and that dear labour involves
+dearness of every product of labour.
+They are deaf to such appeals to their
+reason, and resolutely ignore every
+fact which tends to account for the
+high prices of which they complain.
+The prosperity which they contemplated,
+and believed that they had
+secured by free imports, was one
+which the consumer could monopolise.
+Each class seems to have imagined
+that the remainder were to be
+prostrated for their own particular
+benefit.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is perfectly natural that, during
+such a struggle between the distributors
+and the consumers of commodities,
+and whilst competition was unabated
+amongst the former, no effort
+would be left untried by them to
+secure business and profit. The great
+object to be achieved was to induce a
+belief on the part of the consumer
+that he was not paying advanced
+prices, and was still in the enjoyment
+of the idol “cheapness.” This could
+only be done by the aid of adulteration,
+and deception of every kind; and
+never were these dishonest practices
+of traders more rife, throughout the
+manufacturing districts especially, than
+they have been of late. The price of
+flour began to rise towards the close
+of last year. From an average of
+about 21s. for the best quality of
+American, it has gradually risen to
+28s. Was the price of bread advanced,
+in proportion, to the consumer?
+It was not—at least apparently.
+A less profit was submitted
+to by the baker and retailer; and
+wherever it was possible, just weight
+was withheld. For example, the
+small loaves, nominally of two pounds
+weight, with which the small shopkeepers
+are supplied for retailing
+amongst that portion of the working
+classes in the manufacturing districts
+whose payments are usually weekly
+ones, were not very perceptibly advanced
+in price, but decreased in
+weight. Twenty pounds of bread
+contained in such loaves were manufactured
+into twelve or thirteen, nominally
+of two pounds each, instead
+of ten. The price to the consumer
+of each loaf remained the same. Although
+tallow has risen in price at
+least thirty per cent, the price of the
+candles principally consumed by the
+working classes remained mysteriously
+almost the same. We have had this
+accounted for by the fact that dishonest
+manufacturers have been supplying
+equally dishonest tradesmen with the
+article in quantities, purporting to be
+pounds in weight, but, in reality, two
+or three ounces less. Thus, candles
+sold as twelve, fourteen, or sixteen to
+the pound, contain still <i>the number</i>
+represented; but, as the buyer never
+asks to have them weighed, as he
+does beef or mutton, they are short of
+the proper <i>weight</i>. This practice has
+lately been shown to prevail throughout
+a great portion of the manufacturing
+districts, especially of the north
+of Lancashire and the West Riding of
+Yorkshire. The adulteration of coffee
+with chicory, it is well known, has prevailed
+so long, and the tastes of the
+consuming classes have become so
+accustomed to the mixed article, that
+the Legislature has had to submit to
+its permanent practice. Cheatery of
+every description, in short, has been
+resorted to by the dishonest trader,
+to disguise from the consumer the fact
+of dearness, and to wring a profit from
+the low range of prices which alone
+the public are disposed to tolerate;
+whilst the honest trader, who is not
+willing to descend to such arts, has
+been carrying on a continually losing
+business, and contemplating in despair
+the gradual absorption of his
+capital.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Unfortunately there are not in existence
+the requisite data to enable
+us to arrive at the precise position of
+these classes as compared with that
+which they formerly occupied. The
+humbler portions of them—the small
+retailers in our large towns and manufacturing
+districts—were never in the
+habit of attaining a place in that
+truth-telling and widely-read record,
+the <cite>London Gazette</cite>. They embark
+in their petty course of ambition,
+trusting to the enterprise which they
+feel stirring within them for a successful
+result; and when the reverse
+comes, and disappointment is their
+lot, they retire from the struggle, disappear
+amongst the classes from which
+they rose, and are forgotten. The
+other sources of information, with respect
+to the condition of these classes,
+have been so altered recently, since
+the extension of increased powers to
+the County Courts, that the means of
+an accurate comparison of any two
+periods are wanting. Moreover, the
+resort to legal proceedings, in cases of
+insolvency, is less now than in former
+years. Compositions and amicable
+private arrangements between creditors
+and debtors are found to be
+cheaper, and more satisfactory in their
+results, than the ordinary formal modes
+of proceeding. Hence the statistician,
+who would fain persuade mankind
+that nothing of ill exists in the world
+save that which such records reveal,
+can prate glibly of prosperity to classes,
+who, knowing the reality of their own
+position, must feel such prating to be
+a bitter mockery. The facts which
+we have shown above, as to the tendency
+of rising markets to decrease the
+profits of the retailer’s trade, are sufficient
+of themselves to prove that he
+cannot, at the present moment, be in
+the enjoyment of a satisfactory position;
+and we have the further fact to
+adduce, that at no previous period
+was credit more reluctantly extended
+to that class than at present. The
+merchant and the wholesale dealer
+are well aware, and watch well when
+the retailing classes are doing business
+without profit. They are aware when
+those classes are living upon their
+capital. And that a large portion of
+them are doing so at this moment,
+and have been so for many months
+past, is clear, not only from the increased
+jealousy of the wholesale
+dealer, but also from their almost general
+exclusion from the benefits of a
+money market which, up to within
+the last few weeks, might be fairly
+described as “easy” to most other
+classes. The extensive merchant who
+has produce in his hands to pledge,
+or the speculator who can raise capital
+of his own equal to cover the
+probable margin of loss to arise from
+his temporary investment, can command
+almost unlimited pecuniary accommodation,
+on tolerably reasonable
+terms. But the same facilities are
+not open to the retailer, who may
+for a time require an increase of his
+means. To this class money is always
+dear. It is to be had by the bulk of
+them only upon usurious terms. The
+retailer cannot command a capital by
+paying in to his banker small bills
+drawn upon his customers. He must
+resort to the Loan Society, to the
+Insurance Office, or to the moneylender,
+whose terms are even more
+ruinous than those of the previously
+mentioned parties; and it is a sad
+fact that such modes of raising money
+are more practised amongst tradesmen
+of the present day than formerly.
+We can scarcely glance over the columns
+of a newspaper published in
+any of our large commercial towns,
+without observing one or more advertisements
+of societies professing to
+lend money on personal security, repayable
+by instalments, the interest
+of which is seldom less than ten per
+cent; or of insurance companies, whose
+directors hold out to parties in want
+of money the inducement that life policies
+may be pledged, and the provision
+which might have been made,
+through the beneficial medium of insurance,
+for a widow or an orphan
+family, anticipated, for the purpose of
+bolstering up perhaps unprofitable
+speculations. There is known to be
+existing amongst the trading classes
+an underground ramification of involvements
+of this description, which
+would startle the world if it could be
+brought to light, as it is seen occasionally
+in the schedules of insolvents
+in our Bankruptcy and our County
+Courts. The most profitable business
+would not suffice to maintain a man
+who is paying ten to twenty per cent
+for every money accommodation which
+he may require in temporary emergencies,
+and is besides compelled from
+time to time to make up the defalcations
+of friends, between whom and
+himself a mutual system of guaranteeship
+for loans is constantly existing.
+The evil is not by any means
+confined to the small trading classes,
+but prevails as well amongst our
+working classes. We have loan societies
+whose accommodations range
+from £3 to £10 or £15, which the
+working man too frequently avails
+himself of to enable him to expend
+upon excursion trips, and other extravagancies
+scarcely justified by his
+station in life. We have, too, modes
+of anticipating the incomes of the
+working classes even less legitimate
+than the legalised loan societies.
+During this very week we find recorded,
+in a Manchester paper, the
+existence, throughout a large portion
+of the manufacturing districts, of
+clubs, the parties engaged in which
+pay small weekly instalments, as low
+even as a shilling or sixpence, and
+gamble with the dice, or draw lots for
+the privilege of having the whole sum—say
+of forty shillings or five pounds,
+for which they are responsible—advanced
+on personal guarantee. Another
+festering sore in the body politic
+is the present amazing increase, especially
+in the manufacturing districts,
+of what in the metropolis is called the
+“tally system,” but is elsewhere better
+known as dealing with “Scotchmen,”
+or “weekly men.” It argues
+little in favour of the provident character
+of our manufacturing operatives,
+that thousands of hard-working and
+industrious families amongst them
+purchase the bulk of their clothing
+from these men, at prices ranging
+from 40 to 60 per cent above the fair
+value of the articles, not only to their
+own manifest injury, but also to that
+of the legitimate trader. These men
+are to be seen in every manufacturing
+town and village, yard-stick in hand,
+and parcels of patterns and collecting-books
+protruding from their capacious
+pockets, perambulating the small
+streets and courts inhabited by our
+working classes, too often to wring
+their gains from simple-minded wives,
+whose husbands are unconscious of
+the indebtedness incurred, until made
+aware of the fact by a summons from
+the county or some other petty court
+of law. Not above twelve months
+ago <i>one</i> of these Scotchmen in a manufacturing
+borough in Lancashire had
+no fewer than fifty cases for hearing
+in a single fortnightly session of the
+County Court there; and it is not
+uncommon to find upwards of one-half
+of the cases tried at these courts,
+in the manufacturing districts, to consist
+of actions for debts incurred in
+the manner we have described. So
+largely has the number of this class
+of traders increased of late, that
+they have become a distinct <i>power</i>,
+and, in some of our boroughs, can
+determine the result of an election—in
+favour of Whig-Radicalism, by
+the by; for your travelling Scotch
+draper is invariably attached to “liberal”
+politics. In one borough in
+Lancashire with which we are acquainted,
+it is computed that they
+possess, amongst their own body, no
+less than eighty or ninety votes; and
+at the last two elections those votes
+decided the results of the contests.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Under such circumstances it would
+be most rash, at any time, to assert
+the existence of great prosperity, either
+of the retail traders or of our manufacturing
+operatives, merely from external
+appearances, or from the ordinary
+tests of employment and increased
+consumption of the necessaries of
+life. We know that at present there
+do exist all the external appearances
+of such prosperity; but we know also
+that there is a restlessness being manifested
+amongst those classes, which
+is incompatible with a perfect satisfaction
+with their real position. We
+have to bear in mind always, whilst
+speculating upon the state of the small
+traders in particular, that they form
+a class whose numbers are readily
+recruited during a period of actual or
+apparent prosperity. Little encouragement
+suffices to induce the well-to-do
+operative, disgusted with the
+arduous toil required from him in his
+legitimate sphere, to embark in the
+apparently more easy avocations of
+the small dealer; and since we have
+placed so large a share of the political
+power of the country in the hands of
+these classes, it is most important
+that we should not be misled as to
+their social condition, and the amount
+of prosperity which they are enjoying.
+We have taught them to believe that it
+is within the power of legislation alone
+to command that prosperity for them;
+we have taught the working classes,
+too, that it is in the power of legislation
+to bring about cheapness contemporaneously
+with highly remunerated
+labour; yet we see abundant elements
+at work, which point to dearness in
+prospect as the result. We see the
+prices of raw materials and produce
+rising in every foreign market as the
+result, in part at least, of an increase
+of the precious metals throughout the
+world. We see foreign enterprise and
+industry everywhere stimulated by
+increased monetary facilities afforded
+to the masses of the people, whilst
+such increased facilities at home never
+extend below the privileged classes,
+who are permitted to negotiate directly
+with the banker and the capitalist.
+We see the bulk of the transactions
+of the country, and especially
+the distribution of food and other
+necessaries, falling day by day more
+extensively into the hands of those
+classes who can avail themselves of
+cheap money; whilst all below them
+the very nature of our existing banking
+system drives into the hands of
+the usurious lender, unless they are
+contented to restrict their dealings to
+little beyond the supply of their daily
+wants. What must be the course of
+the great masses of our population,
+should their present doubtful prosperity
+altogether disappear; or should
+high prices and reduced profits press
+them further than at present towards
+the necessity of curtailing their enjoyment
+of material comforts? It is not
+difficult to perceive that a demand
+must arise for continual further reductions
+of taxation, and consequent
+reductions of the public expenditure.
+We have gone almost as far as we
+can go in dealing with those duties
+whose removal is followed by such an
+amount of increased consumption as will
+protect our customs’ revenue from
+exhaustion. The numerous small
+items the taxation of which was well-nigh
+unfelt, although, in the aggregate,
+it was productive, are being
+rapidly swept away; and there remain
+none for the financier to operate
+upon save the few large imposts, the
+removal of any one of which would be
+almost equivalent to national bankruptcy.
+If interference with these is
+denied, a demand must arise either
+for such a diminution of the public
+expenditure as is incompatible with
+the maintenance of the national honour
+and security, or for a decrease in the
+interest of the public debt. Mr Gladstone’s
+financial abortions have shown
+us, with tolerable distinctness, that, in
+the existing state of our monetary
+laws, a permanently reduced rate of
+interest is inconsistent with increased
+imports and an enlarged trade. Whilst
+the specie, which regulates the quantity
+of money which is permitted to
+circulate, is constantly liable to be
+drawn away to meet adverse balances
+of trade, such as we have now with
+almost every country of the globe, a
+reduction in the pressure of our indebtedness
+is impracticable, except by a
+stretch of power on the part of the
+legislature, which must for ever stamp
+us as an unprincipled people. With
+the important question of the currency,
+however, we repeat that we have no
+intention of meddling in this article.
+Our object has been simply to examine
+carefully the actual condition of our
+industrious classes, and to endeavour
+to trace that condition to its true
+causes; we leave to others to draw
+conclusions, and to point the way to
+a remedy, should further experience
+prove that a remedy is required.</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-l'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Liverpool</span>, <i>13th August 1853</i>.</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c006'>
+    <div><i>Printed by William Blackwood &#38; Sons, Edinburgh.</i></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='c027'>
+<div class='footnote' id='f1'>
+<p class='c010'><a href='#r1'>1</a>. <cite>History of Scotland from the Revolution, &#38;c.</cite> By <span class='sc'>John Hill Burton</span>. 2 vols.
+London: 1853.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f2'>
+<p class='c010'><a href='#r2'>2</a>. <cite><span lang="de">Wanderungen durch London</span></cite>, von Max Schlesinger. Two volumes. Berlin:
+Duncker. London: Williams and Norgate. 1853.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f3'>
+<p class='c010'><a href='#r3'>3</a>. <cite>Curiosities of Modern Shakesperian Criticism</cite>. By <span class='sc'>J. O. Halliwell</span>, Esq. 1853.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><cite>Observations on some of the Manuscript Emendations of Shakespeare, and are they
+Copyright?</cite> By <span class='sc'>J. O. Halliwell</span>, Esq. 1853.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span lang="de"><cite>J. Payne Collier’s alte handschriftliche Emendationen zum Shakespeare gewurdigt
+von Dr Nicolaus Delius.</cite> Bonn, 1853.</span></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The original text of Shakespeare has obtained two stanch and able defenders in the
+persons of these two gentlemen. Mr Halliwell’s competency to deal with the text
+of our great poet, and with all that concerns him, is, we believe, all but universally
+acknowledged—the best proof of which is the confidence reposed in him by the subscribers
+to the magnificent edition now publishing under his auspices; a confidence
+which, we are convinced, he will not betray by any ill-judged deviations from the
+authentic readings. Dr Delius’s pamphlet contains a very acute dissection of the
+pretended evidence by which Mr Collier endeavours to support the pretended emendations
+of his MS. corrector. It is characterised by great soundness of judgment,
+and displays a critical knowledge of the English language altogether astonishing in
+a foreigner. He may be at fault in one or two small matters, but the whole tenor
+of his observations proves that he is highly competent to execute the task which, as
+we learn from his announcement, he has undertaken—the publication, namely, of an
+edition of the <i>English</i> text of Shakespeare with <i>German</i> notes. We look forward with
+much interest to the publication of this work, as affording further evidence of the
+strong hold which Shakespeare has taken on the minds of Germany, and as a further
+tribute of admiration, added to the many which they have already paid to the genius
+of our immortal countryman.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f4'>
+<p class='c010'><a href='#r4'>4</a>. The German translators Tieck and Schlegel adopt the reading of the first folio,
+<i>tongue</i>, for “gown,” and translate,</p>
+
+<div class='lg-container-b c014'>
+  <div class='linegroup'>
+    <div class='group'>
+      <div class='line'>“<span lang="de">Warum soll hier mit <cite>Wolfsgeheul</cite> ich stehen.</span>”</div>
+    </div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Dr Delius concurs with his countrymen, and remarks that the boldness of Shakespeare’s
+constructions readily admits of our connecting the words “in this wolfish tongue”
+with the words “to beg.” Now, admirable as we believe Dr Delius’ English scholarship
+to be, he must permit us to say that this is a point which can be determined only
+by a native of this country, and that the construction which he proposes is not consistent
+with the idiom of our language. Even the German idiom requires <i>with</i>
+(mit), and not <i>in</i>, a wolf’s cry. We cannot recommend him to introduce <i>tongue</i> into his
+text of our poet.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f5'>
+<p class='c010'><a href='#r5'>5</a>. <cite>The Structure and Distribution of Coral Reefs.</cite> By <span class='sc'>Charles Darwin</span>, M.A.,
+F.R.S., F.G.S. London: Smith, Elder, and Co. 1842.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><cite>The Structure and Classification of Zoophytes.</cite> By <span class='sc'>James D. Dana</span>, A.M. Philadelphia:
+Lea and Blanchard. 1846.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f6'>
+<p class='c010'><a href='#r6'>6</a>. <span class='sc'>Wilkes’s</span> <cite>United States Exploring Expedition</cite>, vol. ii. p. 130, (ed. 1852.)</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f7'>
+<p class='c010'><a href='#r7'>7</a>. <span class='sc'>Elis’s</span> <cite>Polynesian Researches</cite>, vol. ii. p. 2.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f8'>
+<p class='c010'><a href='#r8'>8</a>. <cite>Kotzebue’s Voyage</cite>, 1815–1818. Vol. iii. p. 333.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f9'>
+<p class='c010'><a href='#r9'>9</a>. Mr <span class='sc'>Darwin’s</span> <cite>Coral Reefs</cite>, p. 142. The only supposed exception to this remarkable
+coincidence, at the time when Mr Darwin wrote, in 1842, was the volcano
+of Torres Strait, at the northern point of Australia, placed on the borders of an
+area of subsidence; but it has been since proved that this volcano has no existence.
+Sir <span class='sc'>Charles Lyell’s</span> <cite>Principles of Geology</cite>. 8th edit. p. 767.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f10'>
+<p class='c010'><a href='#r10'>10</a>. This expression, as applied to many of the coral polyps, must be taken in
+a somewhat qualified sense. Many of them are of a fleshy consistence.</p>
+</div>
+<div class='footnote' id='f11'>
+<p class='c010'><a href='#r11'>11</a>. A reduction of duty of 2s. on foreign has taken place during these periods.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005'>
+</div>
+<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker'>
+
+<div class='chapter ph2'>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c007'>
+    <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+ <ul class='ul_1 c006'>
+    <li>Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.
+
+    </li>
+    <li>Used numbers for footnotes, placing them all at the end of the last chapter.
+    </li>
+  </ul>
+
+</div>
+
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76979 ***</div>
+  </body>
+  <!-- created with ppgen.py 3.57e (with regex) on 2025-09-13 16:57:39 GMT -->
+</html>
+
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+This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
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+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
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+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for book #76979
+(https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/76979)