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Price 15s._ + + + + + BLACKWOOD’S + + EDINBURGH MAGAZINE. + + NO. CCCCLXXXV. MARCH, 1856. VOL. LXXIX. + + + + + LIDDELL’S HISTORY OF ROME.[1] + + +Engraved on certain Syrian or Assyrian rocks lie innumerable +inscriptions in an unknown character; the solid rock and an Asiatic +climate have preserved them for us: they lie there facing the world, in +the broad light of day, but none can read them. A whole mountain-side +seems covered with the records of departed greatness. What truths, what +historic facts might not these mysterious characters disclose! The +scholar cannot sleep for desire to interpret them. At length, by extreme +ingenuity and indomitable patience, and those happy sudden incidental +revelations which ever reward the persevering man, some clue is put into +his hand. He begins to read, he begins to translate. We gather round and +listen breathless. “I, Shalmanasser,” so runs the inscription, “I +assembled a great army—I engaged—I defeated—I slew their sovereigns,—I +cast in chains their captains and men of war—I, Shalmanasser, I——” Oh, +hold! hold! we exclaim, with thy Shalmanasser! There was no need to +decipher the mysterious characters for this. If the rock, with all its +inscriptions, can tell us nothing wiser or newer, it is a pity that +there were no rains in that climate to wash the surface smooth, and +obliterate these boastful records of barbarian cruelty and destruction. +Better that the simple weather-stained rock should face the eye of day, +oblivious of all but nature’s painless and progressive activities. + +Some such feeling as this has passed across the minds of most of us, +when invited to peruse new histories of the ancient world. They were +terrible men, those warriors of olden time. They besieged towns—and so, +indeed, do we; but they did more; they put the children to the sword, +and carried away the mother into captivity, and those of the men whom +they did not chain and enslave, they slew as grateful sacrifices to +their gods! Strange and execrable insanity! and yet the religious rite +was the legitimate result, and the clear exponent of their own savage +nature. There was no spectacle to them so pleasant as blood that flowed +from an enemy. How deny the god who had helped them to win the victory +his share in the triumphant slaughter! There have been loathsome and +terrible things done upon the earth; let us forget them, as we forget +some horrible nightmare. At all events, having known that such men and +such times have been, and having gathered what lesson we can from them, +let us be spared from the infliction of new Shalmanassers, or from new +details of their atrocities. Such feeling of satiety in the old +narrative of war and conquest we must confess to participate in, when +the narrative relates to some Asiatic monarchy that has appeared and +disappeared, leaving no trace of any good result behind it, or which +merely lingers on the scene undergoing fruitless and bewildering +changes. It is otherwise, however, when we are invited again to peruse +the history of Rome, and her conquest of the world, as it has been +proudly called. We are reading here the history of European +civilisation. The slow, persistent, continuous progress of her consular +armies is one of those great indispensable facts, without which the +history of humanity could not be written, without which a civilised +Christendom could not have existed. It is the conquest of a people, not +of a monarch—a people who for many years have to struggle for +self-preservation (the secret this of their lasting union and exalted +patriotism)—of a people whose pride and ambition undergo the noble +discipline of adversity, who, being firmly knit together, proceed +steadily to the taming and subjection and settlement of the surrounding +nations. It is a conquest the very reverse of those great invasions of +Hun or Scythian, where population rolls like an enormous sea from one +part of the world to another; it was truly the _settlement_, first of +Italy, then of surrounding countries. Nomadic habits were checked. +Siculi and Oscans, Sabines, Samnites, and a host of shifting populations +too numerous to name, were brought under one government, and moulded +into one nation. What the Alps could not do for Italy, was done by the +republic of the seven hills. The peninsula was secured from the invasion +of the more northern barbarian. The Gaul was first arrested, then +subjugated, settled in his own home, civilised and protected. Carthage, +who would have conquered or colonised in the interest only of her own +commerce, was driven back. Greece, and her arts and her philosophy, were +embraced and absorbed in the new empire, which extended over the finest +races of men and the most propitious climates of the earth. + +It has been well said that the Romans were not the only people who +entertained the glorious anticipation of the conquest of the world. +There was one other nation that had a still more magnificent conception +of its own future destiny, of its own exalted prominence and supremacy. +It was impossible for the monotheism of the Jews to attain the elevated +character it did, and yet sanction the belief, in any narrow sense, of a +national god. The only God of all the world must surely reign over all +the world. The universal Monarch must imply a universal monarchy. From +this centre of the world,—this holy temple at Jerusalem, and through His +chosen and peculiar people, would God govern all the nations of the +earth. Such extension of the faith of the Jew to the Gentile was +inevitable. All nations would come in, as suppliants and subjects, to +the throne of God’s elect. And the prophetic inspiration, though not +precisely in the sense in which the ancient Hebrew understood it, was +destined to be fulfilled. But it was not the sword of Israel, nor of the +angels, that Divine Providence employed to establish the supremacy of +the great Truth developed in Judea. It was the sword of the legions of +Rome. The armies of a Scipio and a Cæsar were gathering the nations +together under the one true worship. The spiritual dominion did issue +from Judea, but it governed the world from the throne of the Cæsars. + +Egypt, Greece, Rome, and Judea,—these are the four great names which +occur to one who looks back on the history of European civilisation. To +these four powers or nations we owe that status or condition which has +enabled us to make such advances as we claim to be peculiarly our own. +Indirect contributions are doubtless due to India and to Persia. Babylon +is no more; but a people who once sojourned in Babylon may have learnt +something there from the Persian, and transmitted it to us in their +imperishable records; and Greek philosophy bears impress, in one phase +of it, of the teaching of Indian theosophists. But still the four whom +we have mentioned would furnish forth all the essential elements which +the past has given to our present European culture. + +If we look at the map of the world, or turn under our hand a terrestrial +globe, we shall be struck with the peculiar adaptation of the banks of +the Nile to be an early seat of civilisation. It is not only that the +river, by periodically overflowing its banks, produces a spontaneous or +unlaboured fertility, but this fertile tract of land is made precious, +and the people are bound to it, by the enormous deserts that extend +around it. The desert and the sea imprison the people in their “happy +valley,” thus rendering it in all probability one of the earliest abodes +of a stationary population. However that may be, it is certain that, +whether we appeal to written history or to monumental inscriptions, +there is no spot on the earth where the records of the human race extend +so far back into antiquity. We must open our history of civilisation +with the growth of arts and knowledge in Egypt. From Egypt we proceed to +Greece—to Athens, the marvellous, who did so much in so short time, and +who accomplished even more for the world at large than for her +individual self. She learnt her arts from Egypt; her scientific spirit +was her own. What we owe to Judea (which at an early period was not +unconnected with Egypt, nor at a later with the mind of Greece) needs +not to be here particularised. It was the part of Rome to reduce into +order and combine under one sway large tracts of territory and great +varieties of people; so that whatever had been given to the Greek, or +revealed to the Hebrew, might blend and be diffused over vast portions +of the human race. Nor was this office less effectually performed +because the empire is seen to break up amidst much temporary confusion, +produced by internal corruption and rude invaders. Europe finally +assumes a form the most conducive imaginable to progress. It is divided +into separate kingdoms, speaking different languages, but possessing a +common religion, and many of the same sources of culture. Their +similarities, their contrasts, their emulations, form together a +condition the most favourable for the excitement and progress of the +human intellect. + +We can therefore look with complacent admiration, and undecaying +interest, upon the wars and victories of ancient Rome. But indeed, such +has been the revolution lately brought about in our historical studies, +that the mention of a new History of Rome is more likely to call to mind +perplexed controversies upon myths and fables, than visions of battles +or triumphal processions winding up to the Capitol. Not many years ago, +the early periods of Roman history suggested to the imagination the most +vivid pictures of war and patriotism; we heard the march of the +legions—we followed Cincinnatus from the plough to the camp—we were +busied with the most stirring realities and the strongest passions of +life. Now these realities have grown dim and disputable, and we are +reminded of learned controversies upon poetic legends, or on early forms +of the constitution,—we think more of Niebuhr than of Camillus, more of +German critics than of the Conscript Fathers. It is not a pleasant +exchange, but it is one which must be submitted to. The first question +that every one will ask, who hears that Dr Liddell has told again the +history of Rome, is, How has he dealt with the mythical or legendary +portions? What degree of credibility has he attached to them? Has he +followed the example of Arnold, and reserved for them a peculiar style +savouring of antique simplicity; or has he followed the older, and, we +think, the wiser course, of Livy, and told them with genuine unaffected +eloquence, without either disguising their legendary character, or +making the very vain attempt to distinguish the germ or nucleus of real +fact from the accretions and embellishments of oral tradition? + +Before we answer this question, let us say generally of Dr Liddell’s +History, that we think the public is indebted to him for a pre-eminently +_useful_ book. To the youthful student, to the man who cannot read many +volumes, we should commend it as the one History which will convey the +latest views and most extensive information. The style is simple, clear, +explanatory. There are, indeed, certain high qualities of the writer and +the thinker which are requisite to complete our ideal of the perfect +historian. We are accustomed to require in him something of the +imagination of the poet, combined with and subdued by the wide +generalising spirit of the philosopher. We do not wish to have it +understood that there is a signal deficiency in these qualities, but, +whilst acknowledging the utility of Dr Liddell’s laborious and learned +work, we cannot say that he has given to the literature of England a +History of Rome. + +Indeed, the author in his preface claims for his work no such high +distinction. He describes the origin it had in the desire to supply the +more advanced students at public schools with a fit work of instruction, +conveying to them “some knowledge of the altered aspect which Roman +history has assumed.” The work grew upon his hands, “and the character +of the book,” he continues, “is considerably changed from that which it +was originally intended to bear. A History of Rome suited to the wants +of general readers of the present day does not in fact exist, and +certainly is much wanted. Whether this work will in any way supply the +want is for others to say.” + +We have already intimated our opinion that there is no other work at +present existing which so ably supplies this want; and our immediate +object in placing it at the head of this paper was to assist in giving +notice to all whom it might concern where such a work of instruction was +to be found. The preface then proceeds to touch upon the thorny and +perplexing controversies in the early history:— + + “The difficulty inseparable from a work of this kind lies in the + treatment of the Early History. Since what may be called ‘The + Revolution of Niebuhr,’ it has been customary to give an abstract of + his conclusions, with little attention to the evidence upon which they + rest. But the acute and laborious criticisms of many scholars, chiefly + German, have greatly modified the faith which the present generation + is disposed to place in Niebuhr’s authoritative dicta; and in some + cases there may be observed a disposition to speak lightly of his + services. If I may say anything of myself, I still feel that reverence + for the great master which I gained in youth, when we, at Oxford, + first applied his lamp to illuminate the pages of Livy. No doubt, many + of the results which he assumes as positive are little better than + arbitrary assertions. But I conceive that his main positions are still + unshaken, or rather have been confirmed by examination and attack. If, + however, they were all abandoned, it will remain true for ever, that + to him is due the new spirit in which Roman history has been studied; + that to him must be referred the origin of that new light which has + been thrown upon the whole subject by the labours of his successors. + In a work like this, dissertation is impossible; and I have + endeavoured to state only such results of the new criticism as seem to + be established. If the young reader has less of positive set before + him to learn, he will at all events find less that he will have to + unlearn. + + “Far the greater part of this work was printed off before the + appearance of Sir George Cornewall Lewis’s _Inquiry into the + Credibility of Early Roman History_. Much labour might be saved by + adopting his conclusions, that Roman history deserves little or no + attention till the age at which we can securely refer to + contemporaneous writers, and that this age cannot be carried back + further than the times of Pyrrhus. It is impossible to speak too + highly of the fulness, the clearness, the patience, the judicial + calmness of his elaborate argument. _But while his conclusions may be + conceded in full for almost all the wars and foreign transactions of + early times_, we must yet claim attention for the civil history of + Rome in the first ages of the republic. There is about it a + consistency of progress, and a clearness of intelligence, that would + make its fabrication more wonderful than its transmission in a + half-traditionary form. When tradition rests solely on memory, it is + fleeting and uncertain; but when it is connected with customs, laws, + and institutions such as those of which Rome was justly proud, and to + which the ruling party clung with desperate tenacity, its evidence + must doubtless be carefully sifted and duly estimated, but ought not + altogether to be set aside.” + +The large concession which the work of Sir G. C. Lewis seems to have +extorted from Dr Liddell after the writing of his own History, was not +present to his mind during its composition. He sometimes gives as +historical fact such-and-such a war, and then relates some legend as +connected with this war. “With the Volscian wars is inseparably +connected the noble legend of Coriolanus.” The story of Coriolanus is +marked as legend, the Volscian wars as fact. If we are justified in +making the concession marked in italics, the Volscian wars are no more +history than the story of Coriolanus. + +As to the remark here made on the civil or constitutional history of +this period, it would have great weight if there were really presented +to us in that history a clear, intelligible, indisputable account of the +earlier constitutions or governments of Rome. It happens that it is +precisely on this subject there has been so much conjecture, and so much +debate. So far as Dr Liddell can really trace in the narrative preceding +the time of Pyrrhus, a manifest, indisputable, _constitutional history_, +so far as he can confidently point to that “consistency of progress and +clearness of intelligence” of which he speaks, so far he is entitled to +claim for the whole narrative our most respectful attention. But the +difficulty is notorious of forming a distinct conception of many points +in this constitutional history, and this difficulty has given rise to +much of our guess-work. We must take care, therefore, and not fall into +the logical error, of _first_ eliminating some consistent view of the +constitutional history by the aid of much ingenious conjecture, and +_then_ appealing to this consistency in the constitutional history as +ground of presumption in favour of the whole narrative. + +For our own part, we suspect that there is a greater measure of truth in +the legend as it stands than is now generally conceded; and at the same +time we have an utter distrust of all the attempts which have been +made—laudable and ingenious as they may be—to separate the truth from +the fable. We can believe in Tarquin the Proud, in Lucretia, in +Coriolanus, much more readily than in any new historical views obtained +by a sifting of the narrative which contains these heroic stories. One +thing is plain, that no historian of Rome can omit these narratives; and +we should much prefer that he would relate them in a natural style—in +the style due at least to the noble sentiments they illustrate—than +reserve for them (a manner to which Dr Liddell on some occasions leans) +a certain bald and ballad simplicity, as if the writer were almost +ashamed of having to relate them at all. + +It is now generally understood, by all who have paid any attention to +the subject, that although the name of Niebuhr is popularly associated +with a sceptical and destructive criticism, he is really distinguished +by the bold manner in which he has undertaken to construct and restore +certain portions of the history. Preceding writers, both ancient and +modern, had uttered the word “fable” or “legend;” it was the gathering +from the fable some truth indirectly revealed; it was the bold inventive +genius, which could recast the old materials into a new form, which +characterised his labours. Amongst other things, he fearlessly asserted +that a modern critic might obtain a more precise knowledge of the civil +history and early constitutions of Rome than Livy or Cicero possessed. +Now, these reconstructions of Niebuhr, though received at first with +great enthusiasm in many quarters, have not stood their ground against a +calm and severe examination; and in this country all such conjectural +methods of writing the early history of Rome have lately received a +decisive check from the work of Sir George Cornewall Lewis, _On the +Credibility of Early Roman History_. This is a work which combines the +ample and laborious scholarship of the German, with that sound sense +which the Englishman lays especial claim to. We can only here +incidentally mention it; but it is impossible, and it will be a long +time impossible, for any one to touch upon Roman history without +alluding to this work. It will be for many years the text-book for the +subject of which it treats. + +The manner in which a legend, which is itself admitted to be false, may +yet convey to us indirectly some important historical truth, admits of +easy illustration. Suppose that some chronicler, living in the time of +our Henry V., chose to relate a quite fictitious history of Prince +Arthur. All his battles, all his victories, his whole kingdom, might be +a mere dream; but as the imagination of the writer would have no other +types to follow than those which his own times presented to him, he +would necessarily convey to us much historical truth touching the reign +of Henry V., whilst describing his imaginary Prince Arthur. His +inevitable anachronisms would betray him into a species of historical +truth. Prince Arthur would assuredly be a valorous knight, and whence +would come the ceremony of investiture, and all the moral code of +knighthood? Prince Arthur would undoubtedly be a good son of the Church, +and from what type would be drawn the picture of the orthodox and pious +Christian? If the Prince were to be crowned, whence would come the +sceptre and the ball, and the oaths he would take upon his coronation? +Prince Arthur would be a knight, a Christian, and a king, after the +order of the Plantagenets. It is plain that, in such a fabulous +narrative, there would be mingled up much historical matter; it is plain +that we, reading such a narrative by the light of knowledge gained from +other sources, can detect and discriminate the historic truth: whether, +if such a fabulous narrative _stood alone_ before us, we could then make +the same discrimination, whether we could then take advantage of its +involuntary anachronisms, is another question. Imagination must always +have its type or starting-place in some reality, but it may deal as +freely with one reality as another; it may take as much liberty with +religious ceremonies and coronation oaths as with anything else. + +Is there not a slight oversight in the following criticism, which Sir G. +C. Lewis makes on the method of Niebuhr? At all events, our quotation of +the passage from his work, with a solitary remark of our own upon it, +will constitute as brief an exposition as any we can give of this branch +of the subject. The question is, what can be gathered of the +constitution of Rome under her kings? There is clearly no contemporary +history; but _if_ a tradition, though of a quite mythical character, +could be fairly pronounced to have originated in the regal period, that +tradition might indirectly convey to us some knowledge of the regal +constitution. Fragments have come down to us through the works of later +classical writers, which may convey this sort of traditional knowledge. +Let them by all means be rigidly examined, whatever their ultimate value +may be found to be. + + “One of the passages,” says Sir G. C. Lewis, “which Niebuhr cites from + Cicero, relates to the constitutional proceedings upon the election of + Numa. Yet Niebuhr holds, not merely that the entire regal period is + unhistorical, but that Numa is an unreal and imaginary personage—a + name and not a man. Now, what reliance, according to Niebuhr’s own + view, is to be placed upon Cicero’s information respecting a man who + never lived, and an event which never happened, even if it was derived + from some pontifical book, which professed to record old customs?” + +Continuing the discussion in a note, Sir G. C. Lewis adds:— + + “For Niebuhr’s account of the legend of Numa, see _Hist._, vol. i. pp. + 237–240. Afterwards he says—‘Hence it seems quite evident that the + pontiffs themselves distinguished the first two kings from the rest, + as belonging to another order of things, and that they separated the + accounts of them from those which were to pass for history.... Romulus + was the god, the son of a god; Numa a man, but connected with superior + beings. If the tradition about them, however, is in all its parts a + _poetical fiction_, the fixing the pretended term of their reigns can + only be explained by ascribing it rather to mere caprice or to + numerical speculations.’—‘With Tullius Hostilius we reach the + beginning of a new secle, and of a narrative resting on historical + ground of a kind _totally different_ from the story of the preceding + period.’ Niebuhr considers the mythico-historical age of Roman History + to begin with the reign of Tullius Hostilius, and the age of Romulus + and Numa to be purely fabulous. Moreover, he commences the second + volume of his History with the following sentence—‘It was one of the + most important objects of the first volume to prove that the story of + Rome under the kings was altogether _without historical foundation_.’ + He lays it down likewise that the names of the kings, their number, + and the duration and dates of their reigns, are fictitious; yet he + cites the proceedings at the election of Numa, and of the subsequent + kings, as historical proof of the constitutional practice of that + period.”—Vol. i. p. 123. + +Niebuhr does not hold that there was no regal period, however fictitious +the history of the kings may be. It was to throw light on that regal +period in which the myth of Numa is supposed _to have originated_ that +the passage must have been cited, not certainly on the times of Numa. +Whatever, therefore, may be the infinitesimal value of the passage cited +which relates to the constitutional proceedings upon the election of +Numa, there was no logical inconsistency on the part of Niebuhr in +making a reference to it. If the myth of Numa really originated in a +regal period, what the pontiff declared about it might indirectly convey +some information as to the constitution of that regal period. + +Dr Liddell may well speak of the “altered aspect which Roman history has +assumed.” We begin our annals with an account of the “religious myth,” +of which, however, the specimens are very few. Romulus is _Strength_ and +Numa is _Law_; they are godlike persons, or in communication with gods; +they together found the city of Rome. Strength and Law assuredly founded +the city: it is good philosophy, whatever history it makes; and the +pontiffs were fully justified in placing these kings where they did—the +first, and presiding, and eternal kings of every commonwealth. From the +religious myth we proceed to the “heroic legend.” In this species of +fable the veritable man and his real action is extolled—is +exaggerated—is multiplied. The hero himself is multiplied, or he is +transplanted from one region to another. The story is expanded and +enriched by each successive narrative, until a literary age makes its +appearance. It then assumes a fixed form, from which any wide deviation +is no longer permissible. + +In all such heroic legends, when they have been fairly born on the soil +on which we find them, and have not been transplanted from a foreign +country, there is always some element of historic truth. For what we +call invention must start from, or be supplied with, given facts. There +is a vague but very prevalent error on the nature and power of _poetical +invention_. It is spoken of as something that will account at once for +the marvellous narrative. This is supposed to spring forth complete from +some poet’s brain. Poetical invention can only take place where there is +already some amount and variety of known incidents or traditional +stories; these the poet strings together in new combinations. The first +writers in metre (as we may see in the earliest ballads of Spain and of +other countries) content themselves with a bald narrative of some fact +or tradition. Their successors add to this narrative—add a sentiment or +a detail; and when the number of such narratives has increased, poetical +invention, in its highest form, becomes possible. It has been lately a +favourite hypothesis that the earliest literature of Rome consisted of a +number of poems or ballads, which supplied the first historians with +their materials. It appears to us highly probable that separate legends +were shaped into something like completeness of form before any +continuous history of the city of Rome was written; but whether such +legends were written first in prose or verse is matter of very little +moment, and of very great uncertainty. + +After expressing the belief that there is a substratum of truth in these +heroic legends, it is not very satisfactory to be compelled to add that +we cannot distinguish it from the superstructure of fiction. +Unfortunately, it is not the marvellous and supernatural—which, indeed, +are but sparingly introduced—which have alone contributed to deprive +these legends of their credibility: they have been convicted, in some +cases, of historic falsehood. A species of pious fraud has been +committed to conceal the defeats of the Romans. Family pride has, in +other instances, led to the undue exaltation of individual heroes. We +must chiefly honour these legends, after all, as manifestations of the +mind and spirit of the Romans, rather than as positive materials of +history. + +We always revert to this consolation—every literature must be the +history of the _thoughts_, if not of the _deeds_ of a people; and all +our various records are chiefly valuable as they enable us to write the +history of the human mind. How pre-eminently this is the case wherever +the subject of religion is introduced! Omens, auguries, oracles—what +matters whether in this or that case they were really seen or uttered? +the great fact is, that they were currently believed in, and acted on. +The _belief_ here is all that we can possibly be concerned with. Whether +Æneas really did see that white sow, with her litter of thirty pigs, +which he took for so good an omen of prosperity (it was no bad sign of +fertility), may be questioned; but even the invention of such an +incident proves that men, and wise men, were supposed to be under the +influence of such omens. That an eagle pounced down, and took from the +head of Tarquin his cap, and, after wheeling in the air, _put it on +again_, is what we do not believe; eagles, neither at Rome or elsewhere, +have this habit of restitution. But the frequency of legends of this +kind points to a time when men were in the constant expectation of +finding their own future destiny prefigured to them in the actions of +birds and beasts, or the operations of inanimate nature. What was the +precise _degree_ of influence which superstitions of this nature +exercised on the course of human conduct, must still be problematical. +Did any pious general, at the head of the legions at Rome, really +determine whether he should give battle or not by the appetite with +which the sacred chickens took their food? Did men ever colonise, or +build a city, according to the flight of vultures or the perching of an +eagle? + +But superstition itself, and that in some of its most terrible forms, is +animated and dignified by the spirit of Roman patriotism. Read this old +story of the self-devotion of Decius, as Dr Liddell tells it to us. It +will be an excellent example in which to take our stand, if we would +estimate at their full value these old heroic legends. One of those +decisive battles is to be fought which is to determine the supremacy of +Rome in Italy. + + “The Latin army marched hastily southward to protect their Oscan + allies, and it was in the plains of Campania that the fate of Rome and + Latium was to be decided. (The two consuls, Manlius and Decius, + commanded in the Roman camp.) + + “When the two armies met under Mount Vesuvius, they lay opposed to one + another, neither party choosing to begin the fray. It was almost like + a civil war: Romans and Latins spoke the same language; their armies + had long fought side by side under common generals; their arms, + discipline, and tactics were the same. + + “While the armies were thus lying over against each other, the Latin + horsemen, conscious of superiority, used every endeavour to provoke + the Romans to single combats. The latter, however, were checked by the + orders of their generals, till young Manlius, son of the consul, stung + to the quick by the taunts of Geminus Metius, a Latin champion, + accepted his challenge. The young Roman conquered, and returned to the + camp to lay the spoils of the enemy at his father’s feet. But the + spirit of Brutus was not dead; and the stern consul, unmindful of his + own feelings and the pleading voices of the whole army, condemned his + son to death for disobedience to orders. Discipline was thus + maintained, but at a sore expense, and the men’s hearts were heavy at + this unnatural act. + + “In the night before the day on which the consuls resolved to fight, + each of them was visited by an ominous dream, by which it was revealed + that whichever army first lost its general should prevail; and they + agreed that he whose division first gave ground should devote himself + to the gods of the lower world. + + “In the morning, when the auspices were taken, the liver of the victim + offered on the part of Decius was defective, while that of Manlius was + perfect. And the event confirmed the omen; for Manlius, who commanded + on the right, held his ground, while the legions of Decius on the left + gave way. + + “Then Decius, mindful of his vow, sent for Valerius, the chief + pontiff, to direct him how duly to devote himself. He put on his toga, + the robe of peace, after the Gabine fashion, bringing the end or + lappet under the right arm, and throwing it over his head; and then, + standing on a javelin, he pronounced the solemn form of words + prescribed, by which he devoted the army of the enemy along with + himself to the gods of death and to the grave. Then, still shrouded in + his toga, he leaped upon his horse, and dashing into the enemy’s + ranks, was slain. + + “Both armies were well aware of the meaning of the act. It depressed + the spirits of the Latins as much as it raised those of the Romans. + The skill of Manlius finished the work of superstitious awe.... The + enemy fled in irretrievable confusion.” + +One consul sacrifices his son to the cause of military discipline; the +other consul sacrifices himself to the gods, to obtain the destruction +of the enemy. We believe in a Decius, in some Decius, at some time, in +some battle. Many of the details brought here together were probably +added by different narrators. But it may be laid down, we think, as a +sound canon of criticism, _that no act of moral greatness was ever +invented till the like of it had been really performed_. Imagination of +what the human heart is capable of cannot precede the genuine feelings, +the genuine heroism of man. The several acts of Manlius and of Decius +are Roman deeds, whether they occurred precisely here or not. Then note +the traces we have in this legend of the rite of human sacrifice, and +the terrible boon extorted by it. Indeed, the whole passage is fertile +of suggestions which we will not weaken by attempting to enumerate. + +Rome had scarcely obtained the ascendancy over her neighbours when her +own destruction was threatened by the Gauls. Yet ultimately this +invasion of the Celt, by weakening her enemies more than herself, was +not unpropitious to the final predominance of Rome. “The Gauls,” writes +Dr Liddell, “burst upon Latium and the adjoining lands with the +suddenness of a thunderstorm; and as the storm, with all its fury and +destructiveness, yet clears the loaded air, and restores a balance +between the disturbed powers of nature, so it was with this Gallic +hurricane. It swept over the face of Italy, crushing and destroying. The +Etruscans were weakened by it; and if Rome herself was laid prostrate +for a season, the Latins also suffered greatly, the Volscians were +humbled, and the Æquians so shattered that they never recovered from the +blow.” + +It was a disastrous day for Rome. A large portion of her army, under her +great general Camillus, was absent from the city. What forces she could +muster were routed and dispersed. There were not enough men to defend +the city; it was given up to the Gauls. The Capitol alone held out. +Finally, the Romans were fain to ransom themselves, and to obtain peace, +by the payment of one thousand pounds in weight of gold. The popular and +legendary history tells us, that whilst this gold was being weighed +out—and just as the insolent Gaul had thrown his sword into the scale, +bidding them weigh that too, with his “Woe to the conquered!”—the great +Camillus returned with his army, marched into the forum, ordered the +gold to be returned, declared that it was with _iron_ he meant to redeem +the city, and forthwith drove out the Gauls, so completely destroying +their host that not a man was left to carry home the news of their +calamity. + + “So ran the legend,” continues Dr Liddell, “embellished by the touch + of Livy’s graceful pen. But, unfortunately for Roman pride, here also, + as in the tale of Porsenna, traces of true history are preserved, + which show how little the Roman annalists regarded truth. Strabo and + Diodorus mention stories to the effect that the Gauls carried off the + gold without let or hindrance from Camillus, but that they were + attacked in Etruria, some said by the Romans themselves, others said + by the friendly people of Cæré, and obliged to relinquish their + precious booty. But Polybius has left clearer and more positive + statements. That grave historian tells us, as if he knew no other + story, that the departure of the Gauls was caused by the intelligence + that the Venetians, an Illyrian tribe, had invaded their settlements + in northern Italy; that, on receiving this intelligence, they proposed + to make a treaty; that the treaty was made; that they actually + received the gold, and marched off unmolested to their homes.” + +Where did Polybius get _his_ story? The legend may be false, but where +were the materials from which Polybius could have obtained a more +historical account? But before again alluding to this subject, we cannot +but pause to take notice that here also is a striking example of the +value of the legend as a history of the mind and thoughts of a people, +even where it fails us as a history of events. Consider what must have +been the religious faith, what the ardent patriotism, that gave birth to +this magnificent fable (if fable it is) of the conduct of the Senate, +when the army of Rome had been utterly vanquished, and the Gaul, in +insolent confidence of victory, was rejoicing and revelling at the +gates. Here it is, in the version of Dr Liddell:— + + “Meantime the Senate at Rome did what was possible to retrieve their + fallen fortunes. With all the men of military age they withdrew into + the Capitol, for they had not numbers enough to man the walls of the + city. These were mainly Patricians. Many of the Plebeians had fallen + in the battle; many had escaped to Veii. The old men of this order, + with the women, fled for safety to the same city. The priests and + vestal virgins, carrying with them the sacred images and utensils, + found refuge at the friendly Etruscan city of Cæré. _But the old + Senators, who had been Consuls or Censors, and had won triumphs, and + grown grey in their country’s service, feeling themselves to be now no + longer a succour but a burthen, determined to sacrifice themselves for + her; and M. Fabius, the Pontifex, recited the form of words by which + they solemnly devoted themselves to the gods below, praying that on + their heads only might fall the vengeance and the destruction._ Then + as the Gauls approached, they ordered their ivory chairs to be set in + the Comitium, before the temples of the gods, and there they took + their seats, each man clad in his robes of state, to await the coming + of the avenger. + + “At length the Gallic host approached the city, and came to the + Colline gate. It stood wide open before their astonished gaze, and + they advanced slowly, not without suspicion, through deserted streets, + unresisted and unchecked. When they reached the Forum, there, within + its sacred precincts, they beheld those venerable men sitting like so + many gods descended from heaven to protect their own. They gazed with + silent awe; till at length a Gaul, hardier than his brethren, ventured + to stroke the long beard of M. Papirius. The old hero raised his ivory + staff and smote the offender, whereupon the barbarian in wrath slew + him; and this first sword-stroke gave the signal for a general + slaughter. Then the Romans in the Capitol believed that the gods had + accepted the offering which those old men had made, and that the rest + would be saved.” + +Grander fable never was invented—never grew up out of grander feelings +or wilder convictions. How little do we seem to know of the ancient +religion of Rome! We listen too exclusively to the poets of the Augustan +age. Elegant fictions and placid deities, from whom little was to be +hoped or feared, did not constitute the religion of early times. There +were terrible gods in those days—without whom, indeed, no religion has +existed which has really influenced the conduct of mankind. + +The next great event in the history of Rome which arrests our attention +is the war with Pyrrhus. Here the Romans come in contact with a literary +people. The attention of the Greeks is drawn towards them. Greek +historians collect what accounts they can of these new barbarians, who +are pronounced to be “not barbarians at least in war.” The first Roman +historians wrote in the Greek language. We enter, it is said, into the +historic period. + +This is a fit place to quote some judicious remarks which Dr Liddell +makes on the sources of early Roman history:— + + “When the Gaul departed and left Rome in ashes, it was not only the + buildings of the city that perished. We are expressly told that all + the public records shared in the general destruction—the Fasti, or + list of yearly magistrates with their triumphs, the Annales + Pontificum, and the Linen Rolls (_libri lintei_), which were annual + registers or chronicles of events kept by the pontiffs and augurs. + + “This took place, we know, about the year 390 B.C. + + “Now the first Roman annalists, Fabius Pictor, Cincius Alimentus, Cato + the Censor, with the poets Nævius and Ennius, flourished about a + century and a half after this date. Whence, then, it is natural to + ask, did these writers and their successors find materials for the + history of Rome before the burning of the city? What is the authority + for the events and actions which are stated to have taken place before + the year 390 B.C.? + + “The answer to these questions may partly be found in our fifth + chapter. The early history of Rome was preserved in old heroic lays or + legends, which lived in the memories of men, and were transmitted by + word of mouth from one generation to another. The early history of all + nations is, as we have said, the same; and even if we had the Fasti + and the Annals complete, we should still have to refer to those + legendary tales for the substance and colour of the early history. The + Fasti, indeed, if they were so utterly destroyed as Livy states, must + have been preserved in memory with tolerable accuracy, for we have + several lists of the early magistrates which only differ by a few + omissions and transpositions. The Annals and Linen Rolls, if we had + copies of them, would present little else than dry bones without + flesh—mere names with a few naked incidents attached, much of the same + character as the famous Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. For narrative we should + still have been dependent upon the legends. We might know the exact + time at which Coriolanus appeared at the head of the Volscian host, + but the story would remain untouched.... + + “The false statements of the Patrician period are quite different in + kind from the greater part of the legendary fictions of Greece or + Regal Rome. There we discern no dishonesty of purpose, no intentional + fraud; here, much of the baser coin is current. In the legends of + Porsenna and Camillus the dishonour of Rome and the triumphs of the + invaders are studiously kept out of sight, and glorious deeds are + attributed to heroes who are proved to have no claim to such honour.” + +If the legends of the Regal period are mythical, and if those of the +Patrician period were falsified by bards and minstrels, who made it +their vocation to flatter the family pride of the nobles, it is plain +there is little of historic narrative relating to these early times +which can be depended on. There is no essential difference in the +account which Dr Liddell and Sir G. C. Lewis give of the materials of +the early history of Rome; but the first of these writers has a far +greater faith in that species of constructive or conjectural history, in +which Niebuhr was so great an artist, than the second can at all admit. +Sir G. C. Lewis contends with great force and clearness that historical +evidence does not differ in kind from judicial evidence. They are both +founded “on the testimony of credible witnesses.” Unless you can trace +your narrative to some contemporary writer who had a fair opportunity of +knowing the facts to which he testifies, you have nothing worthy of the +name of history. Nor can any ingenuity of reasoning avail if the +materials on which you reason are constantly open to suspicion. In the +time of the second Punic war there commences a series of Roman +historians or annalists who recorded the events of their own age; their +works are lost to us, but they furnished subsequent writers, whose +histories remain, with _their_ materials. If now, for the years +preceding this epoch, you have nothing but a series of meagre official +annals, kept by the chief pontiff, some ancient treaties, and a few laws +which you can bring into court as historical evidence—if you have +nothing but these “dry bones,” there is no help for it; you must be +contented with the skeleton. By no means can you, in any legitimate +manner, cover these bones. You have no narrative, both lifelike and +trustworthy, that extends beyond the age of Pyrrhus. Here the Greek +historian steps in. Moreover, the war with Pyrrhus was “not so long +prior to the time of Fabius and Cincius (the earliest Roman annalists) +as to render it improbable that they and other subsequent writers may +have collected some trustworthy notices of it from native tradition and +documents.” The speech, too, of Appius the Blind, delivered in the +Senate on the occasion of the embassy of Cineas, the minister of +Pyrrhus, was extant in the time of Cicero. But beyond this period of the +war of Pyrrhus, historic narrative based on acceptable evidence there is +none. + +Sir G. C. Lewis states the matter, at the opening of his third chapter, +in the following lucid manner:— + + “In the previous chapter we have followed the stream of Roman + contemporary history up to the war of Pyrrhus, but found that at that + point the contemporary writers deserted us. There is no trace of any + historical account of Roman affairs by a contemporary writer, native + or foreign, before that time; nor can it be shown that any Roman + literary work, either in verse or prose, was then in existence. But + although there was no contemporary history, and no native literature + at Rome before the war with Pyrrhus, yet we have a history of Rome for + 472 years before that period, handed down to us by ancient classical + writers as a credible narrative of events.” + +But we must not be seduced further into following the discussions of Sir +G. C. Lewis “on the credibility of the early Roman history.” We must not +forget that it is Dr Liddell’s History we have at present before us. The +wars of Pyrrhus are related by him in a very distinct and spirited +manner, and the chivalrous character of the Greek prince—the +_Cœur-de-Lion_ of his age—stands out before us in very clear relief. The +wars, too, of a greater than Pyrrhus—of the Carthaginian general, +Hannibal—are told with more perspicuity than will be found, we think, in +the pages of any of his predecessors. But for very manifest reasons we +must pass over voluminous details of this description. + +No portion of the work will be read with more interest and profit than +those chapters which give an account of the civil constitution of Rome, +such as it existed in the palmy days of the republic. We confess +ourselves to be utterly incredulous of the ability of any writer to +describe to us what the constitution of Rome was under her kings, or +during the earlier periods of the commonwealth. So much the more +pleasure do we derive from a view of that constitution when the clouds +seem to break away, and it stands revealed to us in the light of +history. When he has driven Hannibal out of Italy, conquered Sicily, and +imposed those terms on Carthage which ended the second Punic war, Dr +Liddell takes the occasion to review the constitution of Rome such as it +displayed itself when the republic was in its full vigour. It was during +the time of the Punic wars, he tells us, that this most remarkable and +most complex system of government under which men ever lived, attained +to some completeness of form. Our own British constitution is often +cited as a marvel of complexity; incongruous powers and institutions +come into collision at this and that point, till a harmonious action is +at length produced; and the prerogative of the Crown is seen to be +opposed by the privilege of Parliament, in such a manner as rather to +represent a contest between rival institutions, than an understood +co-operation of great functionaries of state. But the British +constitution is a simple and consistent scheme when compared with the +constitution of the Roman republic; with its wild right of the Tribune, +which at once seems subversive of all law; with its annual elections, +and that even of the general at the head of its armies, which seems at +once subversive of all military discipline, and an insuperable obstacle +to all military success; with its coequal legislative assemblies, which +seems to strike at once at the unity of the laws, and to be a provision +for the dissolution of the society. + +That which explains the mystery, that which accounts for the long +duration and signal success of so complicated a system, is to be found +in the predominating power of the Senate. And if again we are asked how +it happened that the Senate endured so long, and was not sooner +dissolved or reduced to subjection by some military chief, we can only +refer to the jealousy which the great men of Rome, patrician or +plebeian, entertained of each other. Many a patrician would have been +king, none would have endured to have a king over him. This +determination to bow to no superior, except the law, except the State, +is the feeling of every aristocracy which grows up within a city. It is +otherwise with a territorial aristocracy. Here some form of our feudal +system invariably presents itself; the common safety requires it. But in +a municipal aristocracy, like that of Rome or Venice, the prevailing +spirit, the _conservative feeling_, is precisely this determination, +that no one member of the body shall obtain predominance over the rest. +Looking at the history of Rome and the magnitude of her conquests, we +feel that it was inevitable that the Senate should succumb at length to +some victorious Cæsar, and we feel that it was equally inevitable that +it should deliver its last protest in the daggers of a Brutus and a +Cassius. + +An extract from this portion of Dr Liddell’s work cannot fail to be +acceptable to our readers. What precisely was the august Senate of Rome +many of us may not distinctly remember, if indeed we have ever been so +distinctly told as we are in the pages of this writer. We have no space +to enter on the description of the two legislative assemblies, the +“Tribe Assembly,” and the “Centuriate Assembly,” as they are here +called, nor of the extraordinary power of the Tribune; we must limit our +quotation to that part which rather bears on the ordinary and executive +government of Rome. + + “To obtain each of these high offices (as those of Quæstor, Ædile, + Prætor, Consul, Censor), the Roman was obliged to seek the suffrages + of his fellow-citizens. They were all open to the ambition of every + one whose name had been entered by the Censors in the Register of + Citizens, provided he had reached the required age. No office, except + the Censorship, was held for a longer period than twelve months. No + officer received any pay or salary for his services. To defray + expenses, certain allowances were made from the treasury by order of + the Senate. To discharge routine duties and to conduct their + correspondence, each magistrate had a certain number of clerks + (Scribæ), who formed what we should call the civil service, and who + had before this assumed an important position in the State. + + “But though the highest offices seemed thus absolutely open to every + candidate, they were not so in practice. About the time of the first + Punic war an alteration was made, which in effect confined the Curule + officers to the wealthy families. The Ædiles were charged with the + management of the public games, and for celebrating them with due + splendour a liberal allowance had been made from the treasury. At the + time just mentioned, this allowance was withdrawn. Yet the Curule + Ædiles were still expected to maintain the honour of Rome by costly + spectacles at the Great Roman Games, the Megalesian Festival, and + others of less consequence. A great change was wrought by this law, + which, under a popular aspect, limited the choice of the people to + those who could buy their favour. None could become Ædile who had not + the command of money, or at least of credit. + + “That which strikes the mind as most remarkable in the executive + government of Rome, is the short period for which each magistrate held + his office, and the seeming danger of leaving appointments so + important to the suffrages of the people at large; and this is still + more striking when we remember that the same system was extended to + the army itself, as well as to its generals. The Romans had no + standing army. Every Roman citizen between the complete ages of + seventeen and forty-five, and possessing property worth at least 4000 + lb. of copper, was placed on the military roll. From this roll four + legions, two for each Consul, were enlisted every year; and in cases + of necessity additional legions were raised. But at the close of the + year’s campaign these legionary soldiers had a right to return home + and be relieved by others. Nor were there any fixed officers. Each + legion had six tribunes and sixty centurions; but these were + appointed, like the consuls and soldiers, fresh every year. The + majority of the tribunes were now elected by the people at the Comitia + of the tribes, and the remainder were nominated by the consuls of the + year; the only limitation to such choice being, that those elected or + nominated should have served in the legions at least five campaigns. + The Centurions were then nominated by the Tribunes, subject to the + approval of the Consuls. No doubt the Tribunes or Consuls, for their + own sake, would nominate effective men; and therefore we should + conclude, what we find to be the fact, that the Roman armies depended + much on their Centurions, and on those Tribunes who were nominated by + the Consuls.” + +Everything hitherto seems to be in a state of perpetual change and +disorganisation. If a consul were pursuing his operations ever so +successfully, he was liable to be superseded at the close of the year by +his successor in the consulship; and this successor brought with him new +soldiers and new officers. This inconvenience was so great that the +constitutional usages were necessarily broken through: the same men were +re-elected to the consulship notwithstanding the law that no one should +hold the office a second time except after the lapse of a certain +interval. Impolitic laws, and these frequently suspended, present us +with a poor guarantee for the permanence of the republic. + + “But though the chief officers, both in state and army, were + continually changing at the popular will, there was a mighty power + behind them, on which they were all dependent, which did not change. + This was the SENATE. + + “The importance of this body can hardly be overstated. All the acts of + the Roman Republic ran in the name of the Senate and People, as if the + Senate were half the State, though its number seems still to have been + limited to three hundred members. + + “The Senate of Rome was perhaps the most remarkable assembly that the + world has ever seen. Its members held their seats for life. Once + senators, always senators, unless they were degraded for some + dishonourable cause. But the Senatorical peerage was not hereditary; + no father could transmit the honour to his son. Each man must win it + for himself. + + “The manner in which seats in the Senate were obtained is tolerably + well ascertained. Many persons will be surprised to learn that the + members of this august body, all, or nearly all, owed their places to + the votes of the people. In theory, indeed, the Censors still + possessed the power really exercised by the kings and early Consuls, + of choosing the Senators at their own will and pleasure. But official + powers, however arbitrary, are always limited in practice—and the + Censors followed rules established by ancient precedent. A notable + example of the rule by which the list of the Senate was made occurs at + a period when, if ever, there was wide room for the exercise of + discretion. After the fatal days of Trasimene and Cannæ, it was found + that, to complete the just number of Senators, no less than one + hundred and seventy were wanting. Two years were yet to pass before + new Censors would be in office; and to provide an extraordinary remedy + for an extraordinary case, M. Fabius Buteo, an old Senator of high + character, was named Dictator, for the sole purpose of recruiting the + vacant ranks of his order. He thus discharged his duty: after reciting + the names of all surviving Senators, he chose as new members, first, + those who had held Curule offices since the last censorship, according + to the order of their election; then those who had served as Ædiles, + Tribunes, or Quæstors; then of those who had not held office, such as + had decorated their houses with spoils taken from the enemy, or with + crowns bestowed for saving the lives of fellow-citizens! + + “The first qualification for a seat in the Senate then was that of + office. It is probable that to the qualification of office there was + added a second, property; a third limitation, that of age, followed + from the rule that the Senate was recruited from the lists of official + persons. No one could be a Senator till he was about thirty years of + age. + + “The power of the Senate was equal to its dignity. It absorbed into + its ranks a large proportion of the practical ability of the + community. It was a standing council, where all official functions + were annual. And thus, it is but natural that it should engross the + chief business of the State.” + +This body of ex-consuls, ex-prætors, and the like (we need hardly say +that the distinction between Patrician and Plebeian had been early +erased) might well justify the figure of speech which the minister of +Pyrrhus used when he called the Roman Senate an assembly of kings. “Many +of its members had exercised sovereign power; many were preparing to +exercise it.” + +The Senate had the absolute control of foreign affairs, except that, in +declaring war and concluding treaties of peace, the people were +consulted. The conduct of the war, and all diplomatic negotiations, were +in their hands. The Consul was the servant of the Senate; the sacred +pontiffs took their orders from the Senate. And, what was of no less +importance, “all the financial arrangements of the State were left to +their discretion.” In times of difficulty, as is well known, they had +the power of suspending all rules of law by the appointment of a +dictator. + + “They prolonged the command of a general or suspended him at pleasure. + They estimated the sums necessary for the military chest; nor could a + sesterce be paid to the general without their order. If a Consul + proved refractory, they could transfer his power for a time to a + dictator. All disputes in Italy or beyond seas were referred to their + sovereign arbitrement.... They might also resolve themselves into a + High Court of Justice for the trial of extraordinary offences.” + +Nor was this great Executive Council without participation in, or +control over, the function of the legislative assemblies; for, as a +general rule, no law could be proposed which had not already received +the sanction of the Senate. This body may be well described as having +been for many years “the main-spring of the Roman constitution.” + +Next to the wars with Hannibal follow those with Philip, and Antiochus, +and Perseus, all of which Dr Liddell relates with singular perspicuity. +It is sad to notice how soon after the report of victories and extended +empire is heard the complaint of corrupted manners, of a Senate greedy +of gold, of a people following the war for plunder, making of arms a +trade and profession. It was at the end of the second Punic war that we +were called upon to take a survey of republican institutions, and +republican simplicity of manners—of a people rude and warlike indeed, +but agricultural, domestic, where divorce was unknown, faithful and +pious,—and the third and last Punic war does not break out before we +hear of the city being startled and alarmed at the report of wives +poisoning their husbands, and at the discovery of secret associations of +men and women where some new and licentious worship of Bacchus was +introduced. The disease first manifests itself in the rude efforts to +check it, and one of the earliest symptoms of corruption is the +appearance on the stage of Cato the Censor. + +Of Cato the Censor Dr Liddell gives us the outlines of a very vigorous +portrait. “More familiar to us,” he says, “than almost any of the great +men of Rome, we see him, with his keen grey eyes and red hair, his harsh +features and spare athletic frame, strong by natural constitution and +hardened by exercise, clad even at Rome in the coarsest rustic garb, +attacking with plain but nervous eloquence the luxury and corruption of +the nobles.” This type of a whole class of men, more honest than +enlightened, stands out to us in still more distinct relief from his +opposition to his great contemporary Scipio, the proud and the +reflective, whom he chose to fasten upon as his antagonist. Cato had +rushed to the conclusion that the wickedness of Rome was traceable to +the arts and philosophy of Greece. He ought to have directed his +scrutiny to the cupidity and ambition of Rome. It was wealth and power, +not art and philosophy, that were corrupting his fellow-citizens. He +should have done his utmost to check their spirit of pillage and of +conquest. Instead of which, he joins in the war-cry of the people, and +directs his hostility against Scipio, the introducer of Greek +literature. Another motive also is assigned for this hostility, which is +of a still more commonplace character: there were political parties in +Rome as elsewhere, and Cato had attached himself to the party of Fabius, +which was opposed to the Scipios. + +Born at the provincial town of Tusculum, and inheriting some patrimony, +lands and slaves, in the Sabine territory, near the spot once occupied +by the great Curius Dentatus, the future Censor of Rome had early +adopted a quite rustic mode of life. The young Cato, we are told, looked +with reverence on the hearth at which Curius had been roasting his +radishes when he rejected the Samnite gold, and resolved to make a model +of that rude and simple patriot. He used to work with his slaves, +wearing the same coarse dress, and partaking of the same fare. But +conscious, nevertheless, of superior powers, and fond, we may be sure, +of seeing justice done amongst his neighbours, he would resort +occasionally to the nearer courts of law, to plead the cause of some +client. His shrewd sayings and caustic eloquence attracted the attention +especially of one Valerius Flaccus, “a young nobleman of the +neighbourhood, himself a determined friend of the ancient Roman +manners.” Flaccus persuaded him to leave his farm, and enter public life +at Rome. There he rose, step by step, through the several offices of +state, till he reached the highest honour, that of the Censorship. + + “Cato was now in full possession of the immense arbitrary powers + wielded by the Censor, and determined not to act, as most Censors had + acted, merely as the minister of the Senate, but to put down luxury + with a strong hand. He had thundered against the repeal of the Oppian + law,[2] during his consulship, but in vain,—the ladies were too strong + for him. But now it was his turn. Hitherto no property had been + included in the Censor’s register, except land and houses. Cato + ordered all valuable slaves to be rated at three times the amount of + other property, and laid a heavy tax on the dress and equipages of the + women, if they exceeded a certain sum. He struck seven Senators off + the list, some for paltry causes. Manilius was degraded for kissing + his wife in public; another for an unseasonable jest; but all honest + men must have applauded when L. Flaminius was at length punished for + his atrocious barbarity.[3] It savoured of personal bitterness when, + at the grand review of the knights, he deprived L. Scipio Asiaticus of + his horse. + + “In the management of public works Cato showed judgment equal to his + vigour. He provided for the repair of the aqueducts and reservoirs, + and took great pains to amend the drainage of the city. He encouraged + a fair and open competition for the contracts of tax-collection, and + so much offended the powerful companies of Publicani, that, after he + had laid down his office, he was prosecuted, and compelled to pay a + fine of 12,000 ases.” + +That fine of 12,000 ases we are disposed to reckon amongst his highest +titles to honour. Restricted in his notions, the Censor still claims our +esteem for the genuine sturdy independence which accompanies him +throughout his life, and in the presence alike of the Senate and the +people. He is no craven demagogue. “You are like a parcel of sheep,” he +tells the people on one occasion, “which follow their leader, they care +not whither.” He interferes to prevent a gratuitous distribution of +corn, which he foresaw would encourage the growth of a lazy mob in the +metropolis; and on this occasion he begins his oration thus, “It is a +hard thing, Romans, to speak to the belly, for it has no ears.” He was a +hard-headed, self-sufficient man, not too humane, since he could +recommend, in his book on agriculture, the selling off of old slaves as +a useless lumber, and by no means disposed to act with clemency or +justice towards foreign nations. In his old age, when he numbered +eighty-four years, he led the party which clamoured for the destruction +of Carthage. The old Sabine farmer appeared in the Senate, and unfolding +his gown, produced some giant figs, which he held up and said, “These +figs grow but three days’ sail from Rome.” He then repeated the +oft-reiterated and fatal sentence, “Carthage must be destroyed!—_delenda +est Carthago!_” + +The morality between nation and nation always has been, and still is, +execrable. Indeed, there can be no international morality until men have +learned that the interest of one people is bound up with the interest of +others; till, just as individuals learn that their welfare is +inseparable from the welfare of some community of individuals, so +nations shall learn that their own wellbeing and prosperity is +inseparable from the wellbeing of some community of nations. The early +policy of Rome in the treatment of the Italian cities which were +compelled to acknowledge her supremacy, has often been praised; it could +not have been very censurable, since at the period of Hannibal’s +greatest success there were so few defections. Probably the value of +some large Italian confederacy had begun to be generally appreciated; +and as there was little to pillage from each other, there was the less +room for injustice. When the government extended beyond Italy, over rich +and conquered provinces, the historian has no longer any commendation to +bestow. + + “It was a general rule that all Italian land was tax-free, and that + all provincial land, except such as was specified in treaties or + decrees of the Senate, was subject to tax. This rule was so absolute + that the exemption of land from taxation was known by the technical + name of _Jus Italicum_, or the Right of Italy. + + “This last distinction implies that the imperial revenues were raised + chiefly from the provinces. In the course of little more than thirty + years from the close of the Hannibalic war, this was the case, not + chiefly, but absolutely. The world was taxed for the benefit of Rome + and her citizens.... + + “It was as if England were to defray the expenses of her own + administration from the proceeds of a tax levied on her Indian empire. + The evil was aggravated by the way in which the taxes were collected. + This was done by contract. From time to time the taxes of each + province were put up to public auction by the Prætor or Proconsul; and + the company of contractors which outbade the rest received the + contract and farmed the taxes of the province. The members of these + companies were called _Publicani_. It is manifest that this system + offered a premium on extortion. + + “The Proconsuls and Prætors exercised an authority virtually despotic. + They were Senators, and responsible to the Senate alone. It may too + surely be anticipated what degree of severity a corporation like the + Senate would exercise towards its own members in times when + communication with the provinces was uncertain and difficult, when no + one cared for the fate of foreigners, when there was no press to give + tongue to public opinion, and indeed no force of public opinion at + all. Very soon the Senatorial Proconsuls found it their interest to + support the tax-gatherers in their extortions, on condition of sharing + in the plunder. The provincial government of the republic became in + practice an organised system of oppression, calculated to enrich + fortunate Senators, and to provide them with the means of buying the + suffrages of the people, or of discharging the debts incurred in + buying them. The name of Proconsul became identified with tyranny and + greed.” + +We would gladly accompany Dr Liddell farther down the stream of history, +but the stream widens as we proceed. The events increase in magnitude, +and the territory over which they extend expands before us; we have not +“ample room or verge enough” for such themes as the names of Sylla, +Pompey, Cæsar, suggest. + +One subject we cannot help glancing at. The battles and conquests of +Rome led to the making of innumerable slaves; and nowhere is more +plainly illustrated the great truth, that injustice works evil—that +wrong, or the recklessness of other men’s wellbeing, will bring with it +a penalty of some kind, on some head,—for her slave-system was the curse +of Rome, and the chief cause of her ruin and downfall. + +Unfortunately for any distinctness of view on this subject, the same +name slavery is applied to very different institutions, to very +different relations between man and man, to very different rights and +conduct of him who calls himself master or owner. All systems of +slave-labour are no more alike than all systems of monarchy. In some +cases the institution we call slavery is the only possible system that +could have been adopted. But amongst the Romans slavery exhibited itself +in its harshest features; here, it in part superseded and thrust aside +the labour of the free peasant: in Italy it drove the native +agriculturist from the soil, and converted cornfields which had been +cultivated by hardy yeomen, into wild pastures, where the cattle were +watched by slaves. In the city, it retarded or prevented the growth of a +free industrious middle class; even what we call liberal professions +suffered a certain social degradation from being thrown into the hands +of slaves or freedmen. The Romans were always a harsh people, and a +system which put unlimited power of life and limb into their hands, and +supplied the circus with gladiatorial combats, was not likely to improve +their humanity. + +They were always a harsh and severe people; it is suspected that some +unrecorded conquest and subjugation was the origin of the distinction +between patrician and client, and that the history of the city ought +really to commence with the invasion and domination of a conquering +_caste_ or race. Be that as it may, one of the first laws we hear of is +of so severe and cruel a character—a law of debtor and creditor of so +atrocious a description—that it is almost as incredible as any of the +wildest legends of that early time. We can scarcely believe that a +people who had advanced to the making any laws at all, could have made +one in which it was provided that “the creditor might arrest the person +of his debtor, load him with chains, and feed him on bread and water for +thirty days, and then, if the money still remained unpaid, he might put +him to death, or sell him as a slave to the highest bidder; or, if there +were several creditors, they might hew his body in pieces and divide +it”—with a saving clause that, “if a man cut more or less than his due, +he should incur no penalty.”—Vol. i. p. 100. Possibly this last +provision was a mere threat, and to be sold as a beast of burden was the +heaviest penalty that a patrician creditor ever inflicted on his debtor. +It is plain, however, that when a multitude of slaves fell into the +hands of the Romans, they fell into the hands of men who were not +disposed to use their power leniently. They were men of blunt +sensibilities. One who visited a Roman senator in the time of the +Scipios might have had his ears assailed by the sharp cry of pain from a +beaten slave, and certainly the first object that would have greeted his +vision would have been a slave chained like a dog to the door—the +“hall-porter” of those days. In subsequent times the more refined Roman +could not have endured such sounds and sights in his own presence or +neighbourhood; but what went on in the “ergastula” upon his estate, he +probably never cared to inquire. + +Our readers will perhaps prefer here a brief extract from Dr Liddell to +any general statements of our own. He says:— + + “A few examples will show the prodigious number of slaves that must + have been thrown into the market in the career of conquest on which + the republic entered after the Hannibalic war. To punish the Bruttians + for the fidelity with which they adhered to the cause of the great + Carthaginian, the whole nation were made slaves; no less than 150,000 + Epirotes were sold by Æmilius Paulus; 50,000 were sent home by Scipio + from Carthage. These numbers are accidentally preserved; and if, + according to this scale, we calculate the hosts of unhappy men sold in + slavery during the Syrian, Macedonian, Illyrian, Grecian, and Spanish + wars, we shall be prepared to hear that slaves fit only for unskilled + labour were plentiful and cheap. + + “It is evident that hosts of slaves lately free men, and many of them + soldiers, must become dangerous to the owners. Nor was their treatment + such as to conciliate. They were turned out upon the hills, made + responsible for the safety of the cattle put under their charge, and + compelled to provide themselves with the common necessaries of life. A + body of these wretched men asked their master for clothing: ‘What!’ he + asked, ‘are there no travellers with clothes on?’ The atrocious hint + was soon taken: the shepherd-slaves of lower Italy became banditti, + and to travel through Apulia without an armed retinue was a perilous + adventure. From assailing travellers the marauders began to plunder + the smaller country-houses; and all but the rich were obliged to + desert the country, and flock into the towns. When they were not + employed upon the hills, they were shut up in large prison-like + buildings (_ergastula_), where they talked over their wrongs, and + formed schemes of vengeance.” + +No wonder we hear of Sicilian slave-wars. Nor can we wonder, after this, +at the statement sometimes made, that Roman civilisation never extended +beyond the cities—that the _country_ of such provinces of Gaul and Spain +was still barbarian—that there was no civilisation or humanity _here_ +for Goth or German to destroy. We cannot wonder, at all events, that +there was no patriotism to withstand their invasion. Their invasion was +a restoration of the _country_, if it was a temporary destruction of the +_town_. And even in the large towns, while the system of slavery +endured, the industrial arts, and even studious and liberal professions, +never received their due honour and due encouragement. Wealth and +military and civil appointments were the only valid or generally +recognised claims to social distinction. + +We must take our leave of Dr Liddell’s book, again commending it to the +student. In a passage we quoted from the preface, the author says that +if less of positive history is laid before the reader than in some older +books, “he will, at all events, find less that he will have to unlearn.” +We venture to think that there is still a good deal set down here as +history which the student will have to unlearn. But we make no objection +to the work on this account; for every student must be solicitous to +know what is the last hypothesis of eminently learned men. There has +been an overflow, in our own times, of conjectural history. As it +chiefly concerned the dry details of civil government, and the +development of constitutional laws, the free employment of a conjectural +method was disguised: this flood, we may venture confidently to say, is +now receding. + +Additions of this kind, made by one able man, will be destroyed by +another; but it does not follow on this account that there has not been +a real progress made in the study of Roman history. This progress +chiefly consists in the discrimination made in the comparative value of +the materials which have come down to us. “In the first two centuries +after the invention of printing,” says Sir G. C. Lewis, “the entire +history of Rome was in general treated as entitled to implicit belief; +all ancient authors were put upon the same footing, and regarded as +equally credible; all parts of an author’s work were, moreover, supposed +to rest upon the same basis. Not only was Livy’s authority as high as +that of Thucydides or Tacitus, but his account of the kings was +considered as credible as that of the wars with Hannibal, Philip, +Antiochus, or Perseus; and again, the lives of Romulus, Numa, or +Coriolanus by Plutarch, were deemed as veracious as those of Fabius +Maximus, Sylla, or Cicero. Machiavel, in his _Discourses on the First +Decade of Livy_, takes this view of the early history. The seven kings +of Rome are to him not less real than the twelve Cæsars; and the +examples which he derives from the early period of the Republic are not +less certain and authentic than if they had been selected from the civil +wars of Marius and Sylla, or of Cæsar and Pompey.” An instance so +striking as this of Machiavel ought to give us a double lesson, one of +modesty and one of confidence;—of modesty, because we too may be +involved in some general and prevailing error; of confidence, because +where the reason of the case is clear, no name or authority, however +great, ought to influence our convictions. + + + + + MONTEIL.[4] + + +To struggle for literary fame—to devote forty years to the composition +of an imperishable work—to toil amid pain and sickness, and the growing +infirmities of age—never to be appreciated during all the period of that +laborious existence except by the chosen few—and finally to die in +poverty, perhaps in want—and then, when you have long been buried, and +your name is nearly forgotten, your work to get slowly but surely into +circulation, and to be pronounced a master-piece—this is the fate of +few; but it was the fate of Amans Alexis Monteil, author of the _History +of the French of Various Conditions_—a book of amazing research, great +skill in composition, picturesque, humorous, and characteristic, and now +received as the sovereign authority upon all the subjects on which it +treats. The author was worthy of the work. Its object is to give a clear +description of the French people, as they presented themselves to their +contemporaries during the five last centuries. Old cartularies are +ransacked, baptismal registers consulted, manners and habits inquired +into; the private life of the tradesman, of the merchant, of the +labourer, earnestly investigated, and brought before us with the +distinctness of a picture. And Alexis himself—he was more undecipherable +than a charter of the time of Clovis, more dusty, begrimed, and +antiquated than the records of a Benedictine monastery: nobody knew him; +he breakfasted, dined (when he dined at all), and supped alone. Yet that +man of parchment had a heart, loved passionately, mourned deeply, hoped +ardently, and had such wit, such observation, such combination! Half of +his qualities remind us of Dominie Sampson, and the other half of Sydney +Smith. Let us dip into the contents of his volumes and the history of +his life; and first of the man. + +Poor old Alexis, amid the desolation of his later years, fled for +consolation to the past. He revived the scenes of his youth, flew back +to his native town, and gave daguerreotypes, in an autobiography which +he never finished, of his father, his mother, his brothers, the people +he had known, and the very stones he remembered in the walls. These +reminiscences are very minute. Of course they are, for it was the habit +of the man’s mind to record the smallest particulars. He preferred them +indeed to great ones. He would rather know the number of buttons on a +general’s coat than the battles he had won. So his father is brought +before us in his habit as he lived. This worthy man had had losses, like +Dogberry, and, like that great functionary, had also held authority in +his native town. The town was a very small town, and the authority not +great; but it was enough: it gave rank; it gave dignity; and the son +records it as evidence that he came of gentle kin. + +It was in the small city of Rhodez, partly situated in Auvergne and +partly in Rouergue, that Monsieur Jean Monteil, before the French +Revolution, held the office of receiver of fines and forfeits. This does +not seem a lofty post, but the worthy holder managed, by a little +ingenuity, and a lawsuit which lasted six years, to get it recognised as +one of the offices of the crown, inasmuch as the fines were those levied +by a royal court; and he was therefore as much a king’s servant as the +procureur himself. On the strength of this connection with the +administration, of justice, Monsieur Monteil wore a hat with a gold +band, a gown also with a similar ornament; and on Sundays and fête days +he had a right to march to the church, looking the embodiment of a +beadle, and of sitting on a raised place near the altar, and being +“incensed” by the officiating priests. His son dwells with filial pride +on the noble figure his progenitor presented to the eyes of his +fellow-townsmen, as he walked along the street with his gold-headed +cane, and lifted his three-cornered hat in answer to the salutations of +all who saw him. How long this went on we are not told; but one day the +alarm-bell frightened the town of Rhodez from its propriety. The +Revolution had found its way to the deepest recesses of Auvergne, and +the Reign of Terror began. The guillotine showed its hideous shape in +the main street; war was declared against aristocrats; and who could be +more clearly proved to belong to that doomed body than the portly +gentleman with the gold-laced hat and the gold-handled ivory staff? John +Monteil and the Dukes of Montmorency were equally worthy of death. There +was no place left for De Grammonts or Monteils, and the servant of the +king was no more saluted with respectful bows as he paraded his official +costume on the first sound of the bell which called the faithful to +church, and was no longer received with humble obeisances by the priests +before the service began. In a short time there were no bells to ring; +they were melted down to make sou-pieces by order of the Convention. +Then there were no priests; they were all executed or banished, or had +enlisted in the armies of the Republic: and finally there was no church; +it was turned into a prison for the refractory; and John Monteil laid +aside his gilded toga, and his cocked-hat, and his cane, and hid himself +as well as he was able in the dark parlour of his house. There he gave +himself up to despair. And no wonder; the blow had fallen so +unexpectedly, and death was on every side. He only waited till his turn +should come; and at last it came. In the days of his grandeur he had +taken into his service two of the boys of Rhodez—one Jerome Delpech, who +seems to have had no family tree at all, and Jules Bauleze, the son of a +poor sempstress. They had acted as his clerks, and were grateful to +their old employer. They were now engaged in the public offices, and saw +the whole tragedy as it went on. From time to time they slipt into the +darkened parlour, and said, “Be on your guard”—“Fly”—“Save yourself.” +But John Monteil did not know whither to fly. All France was nothing but +a scaffold, so he staid at home. + +The two clerks came near him no more. They were suspected. Jerome +Delpech died of the jail fever, waited on in his illness by his old +master; and Jules Bauleze, the son of the sempstress, he was accused of +being an aristocrat: the fact could not be denied, and he was executed +in front of the town-hall. Then the Committee of Public Safety began to +tremble for the liberty and equality of the nation if such a very +exalted personage as Monsieur Monteil were suffered to live. So the +ci-devant beadle is dragged to prison—to the very church, the scene of +his weekly glories—where he sat on the front bench, and white-robed +choristers swung censers under his nose till he was nearly suffocated +with perfume (and smoke); and here, at the eastern end of the melancholy +ruin (for the windows were taken out, and the ornamental work all +carried away) he saw the sempstress Bauleze kneeling in an agony of +silent grief at the remains of the broken altar. She had been thrown +into confinement as the mother of an aristocrat, and would probably on +the following day be his companion on the scaffold. But before the +following day, Robespierre’s reign was over, and the two representatives +of the aristocracy of Rhodez were saved. What now is Monsieur Jean +Monteil to do? He is nothing if not magisterial. Rob him of his robes, +and what is he? A poor man indeed, more sinned against than sinning, +reduced to leave the splendours of his native city, and, like +Diocletian, plant cabbages in retirement. He occupied a cottage, and +cultivated a few fields. But there was still left to him, companion and +soother of his griefs, the gentle Marie Mazet, whom he had married when +they were both in the sunshine of prosperity—both distinguished for +birth and station; for she was the daughter of a mercer who sold the +finest cloths in the town, and claimed some sort of unknown kindred with +the Bandinellis of Italy and the Maffettes of France. But this lofty +genealogy was due to the antiquarian zeal of her husband. She herself +only knew that Italy was a long way off, and that the Bandinellis and +the Maffettes were probably no better than they should be. So she did +not keep her head an inch higher on account of her noble origin, but was +the most sedate, quiet, economical, pains-taking manager of a household +that Rhodez had ever seen. She sang, but only at church, or over the +cradles of her children; she walked, but only to mass or vespers; she +lived, as was the custom of good housewives then, in the kitchen, +presided at table, helping the young ones, cleaning up the dishes, +ironing the clothes, arranging, settling, ordering all—a charming +picture of a good mother of a family; and no wonder her son dwells with +affecting tenderness over the details of his early home. And the +vintage! The labours of the whole house were suspended on that blessed +occasion. The dry and dusty streets were left behind; old and young took +their way rejoicing to the vineyard which Monsieur Monteil possessed a +few miles from the town; and even Madame Monteil forgot her cares—forgot +her economics, and renewed her youth in the midst of the universal joy. +A harvest-home is a delightful sound in English or Scottish ears; it +recalls the merry dance, the rustic feast, the games in the barn, the +ballad, the smoking bowl,—but what are all these to the vintage? The +harvest itself consists in wine. The children of the south kindle with +enthusiasm at the very sound of the word; and Bacchus and the ancient +gods seem once more to revisit the earth in a visible shape. All +Rouergue was in a ferment of enjoyment the moment the grapes were ripe; +but even then the mother of the future historian had hours of serious +reflection. With her hand clasped in the hand of her silent thoughtful +little boy, she looked often, long, and in silence, out of the window of +the summer-house, her eyes lifted to the sky, her mouth mantling with a +smile, sunk in an ecstasy of holy contemplation, such as we see in Ary +Scheffer’s noble picture of St Augustin and his Mother. “What are you +thinking of, dear wife?” said Monsieur Jean Monteil. “On eternity,” she +replied in a soft voice, and gave her little boy’s hand a warmer clasp. +It must be from the maternal side Alexis derived his quiet strength, and +the exquisite feeling of romance which enables him to realise the states +of society, the sentiments and family connections so long past away. A +mother like this would have been a fatal loss at any time; but happening +when it did, the blow was irrecoverable. So good a manager might have +restored the family fortunes; so loved a parent might have kept the sons +united and respectable; “but she fell into the dust,” says Alexis, +seventy years after her death, “and our household was ruined for ever.” +These are strange revelations of the interior economy of an obscure +family, in one of the most obscure of the provinces of France, before +and during the Revolution: and the curtain rises and falls upon all the +sons; for Alexis survived his brothers, and traces them with a light and +graceful hand from the cradle to the grave. The eldest was old enough to +know the distinction of his position as heir of the family name, when +the Revolution broke out, and buried Jean Baptiste Jacques under the +ruins of the feudal system. He had studied for the law—he had, in fact, +had the honour of being called to the bar, and, by his great eloquence +and knowledge, of getting his client—the only one he had—condemned to +the galleys for life. But he, like his father, was forced to put off the +gown, and, unlike his father, who stayed to brave the tempest at home, +he fled. Meanly, ignominiously he fled, and hid himself amid the retired +valleys of the Gevaudan, where he thought nobody would find him out, and +where he might boast of his loyalty and sufferings without danger. But +his boastings brought dangers from which greatness could not be exempt. +A certain loyalist of the name of Charrie—a peasant who thought that a +few of his fellow-labourers could restore the _fleur-de-lis_ on the +points of their pitchforks and other agricultural implements with which +they armed themselves—heard of the exiled magnate who made the echoes of +the Gevaudan vocal with his lamentations and cries for vengeance, and +came to the gownless advocate and made him colonel of the ragged +regiment on the spot! Here was a choice of evils. If he refused the +colonelcy, he would in a few minutes be cut into many hundred pieces by +the scythes of the furious Legitimists; if he accepted, he was certain +in a few weeks to be guillotined for rebellion against the Republic. But +as weeks are better than minutes, he accepted the honourable rank, and +Colonel Jean Baptiste showed himself at the head of his troops, and +armed himself with a reaping-hook, which looked like a Turkish scimitar +with the bend the wrong way. He armed himself also with a white cockade, +which had the remarkable property of presenting the tricolor when turned +inside out; and, prepared for either fortune, retained, as it were, on +both sides, the colonel-advocate considered himself secure whatever +might happen. But Charrie was not so blind as was thought. The trick was +found out, and the colonel fled: he ran, he climbed, he struggled over +walls, he staggered across gardens,—the scythemen, the pitchforkmen, the +reaping-hookmen, the flailmen after him; and by dint of quick running, +and artful turnings, and scientific doubles he might have been safe; but +a dreadful outcry in an outhouse, the infuriate babblings of +turkey-cocks, the hissing of geese, the quacking of ducks, betrayed him. +He had concealed himself in a hen-roost, and the denizens of the +poultry-yard had regarded neither the tricolor nor the white cockade. In +spite of his duplicity and cowardice, he got off. Happier than Charrie, +who paid for his brief authority with his head, the eldest hope of the +Monteils lived in peaceful obscurity, cultivating potatoes, both red and +white, and brewing the best wine of the district, till having planted +and brewed all through the first wars of the Empire, he died at sixty, +forgetful alike of his legal studies and military adventures, and only +doubtful as to the superiority of the long kidney or the pink-eyed +rounds. + +The next was a wit—a _roué_ to the extent of a few rows on the street, +and a poet to the extent of a few lampoons on the respectable +dignitaries of Rhodez. He tore off the knockers of the street-doors, +changed the sign-boards of different tradesmen, and went through the +usual stages of a fast young gent’s career. He proceeded to Paris, +determining to be chancellor; he moderated his desires in a few years, +and would have been satisfied to be a peer of France; he sank lower +still, and would have accepted anything he could get, but he could get +nothing, so he became a land-measurer of the humblest kind, retained his +gaiety to the last, sang his own little songs and repeated his own +little epigrams, and died of corpulence and laziness at the age of +eighty-two, as happy, perhaps, as if his dreams of ambition had been +fulfilled. The third and last brother was the black sheep of the flock. +He enlisted in the hopeful time for any one who had courage and a sword, +in 1793, and might have been a Soult, or a Ney, or a Murat. Instead of +that, he was an idle, dissipated dog, who sank from vice to vice, till, +having some musical talent and great strength of wrist, which obtained +him the situation of drummer in the regiment, he behaved so ill that +some brother of the trade was employed to drum him out of the army, and +he returned to his home, living at his impoverished father’s +expense—getting a dinner where he could—drinking when he could obtain +wine—gambling when he could borrow a button to toss with—useless, +shameless, heartless; and when the old man died, and the cottage passed +to strangers, and his contemporaries had perished, and the new +generation knew him no more, he found his way to Paris, wandered through +the streets in search of an hospital, was so thin and worn and broken +down that he was admitted without certificate, and lay down on a crib in +the charitable ward and died: and this the result of the education and +the example given by Monsieur Jean Monteil of Rhodez, and the gentle +Marie Mazet! Was it for this they were so strict in honour, so pure in +heart, so tender in affection, only to produce a coward, an idler, and a +beggar? The fate of families well and carefully brought up, circled +round “by father’s blessing, mother’s prayer,” during all their youth, +and giving way at once to the excesses of vice, and sinking into the +abysses of shame, is one of the most curious of our everyday +experiences. Are we to blame the parents? They have done the best they +could; but Tom gets a commission, and is cashiered; Billy gets into a +bank, and forges a draft; Harry goes to the bar, and drinks himself to +death at the cider-cellar; and the proud and chivalrous old father, the +soft and affectionate mother, after mourning for a few years in the +small lodging to which the extravagance of their family has reduced +them, die of broken hearts. But in the case of the Monteils there was +one redeeming point: one son was all they could wish in the way of +affection, of uprightness, of quietness, and devotion to his books. +There was Amans Alexis studying from morn to night—very shy—very +awkward—very queer—caring nothing for society—knowing little of anything +that had occurred since the battle of Pavia—insatiate in his hunger +after old scraps of manuscript—starting off, stick in hand, bread in +pocket, if he heard that in some miserable valley among the hills there +had been a demolition going on of a monastery, or rotten old chest +discovered among the rat-holes of some tatterdemalion town-hall. The +odd-looking youth, tired and travel-stained, saw at a glance if the +muniment-chest was old and useless enough to be of any value; he opened +the moth-eaten lid, and saw a file of moth-eaten papers. In a moment he +ran over the hieroglyphics they contained. The language they were +written in, though Latin in name, would have puzzled Cicero and the +College of Augurs to interpret a syllable. Alexis read them off like +round-hand, and bought them—sixpence—ninepence—a franc—and the treasure +was his. He turned his heels on the monastery or the town-hall, and +pursued his way to Paris. He goes to the Depository of the Archives of +France. “Do you want an original charter granted by Louis le Hutin to +the Abbey of St Bernard de Romans in Dauphiny?” “Certainly. It is worth +its weight in gold;” and it is now a valued article in the Bibliothèque +Impériale. + +But old charters are not to be found every day, even if +monasteries—which is greatly to be wished—were every day demolished; and +yet the daily bread is to be procured. Buonaparte is in the first dash +of youthful power. Nothing escapes him; no amount of bushels can hide +any candles which can light his way to empire. The laborious student, +the groper among old documents, the retiring antiquary is discovered, +and is installed Professor of History at the Military School. No man in +France knew more of history than Amans Alexis Monteil; but it was the +history of the citizen, not of the soldier. He knew what was the +position of the grocer, of the shoe-black, of the petty tradesman, since +grocers and shoe-blacks and petty tradesmen were created. He dwelt on +the family circle gathered round the cottage-fire in the year 1450. He +could tell of every article of furniture in the castle of the noble, and +also all the circumstances of the carpenters who made them. He knew the +habits of the scholars of Amboise or of Paris in the days of Joan of +Arc; but the wars of Frederick of Prussia, the wars of Charles the +Twelfth of Sweden! he hated wars; he was the biographer of the people, +and did not concern himself much about the great ones of the earth. So +his pupils were rather inattentive; they did not care much for the +simple annals of workmen and labourers who had been dead four hundred +years; and, besides, they were listening for the guns which were +thundering all over the world. How could they hear a dissertation on the +quarrels of the Benedictines and the Cordeliers, when they were in +momentary expectation of a bulletin from the Army of Italy? How could +they listen to a description of the agricultural labourers of Provence +on the day after the news of Marengo? They went off and were killed, or +rose to be generals, governors, marshals. And Alexis plodded on. He +gathered materials in all directions for the great work that was never +absent from his thoughts—pondered—inquired—compared, and finally +completed the most marvellous reproduction of the past which any country +possesses. It is, in fact, a minute detail of the humble ranks in +France, the inhabitants of obscure towns and farms and hamlets. What +Monfaucon is to the nobility, with his fourteen folio volumes of +emblazoned arms, and vivid representation of the life in hall and +palace, the glitter of the tilt-yard, the mustering of knights and +squires for battle, the gentle Alexis is for the peasant, for the +roturier, the bourgeois, and the serf. He erects his tent in the market, +in front of the monastery, at the great gate of the chateau, or in the +fair, where he is surrounded by mountebanks and ballad-singers and +jugglers, and writes down exactly what he sees. He sees a leper sitting +at the gate, veiled and guarded. He meets a funeral—he meets a wedding; +he accompanies the corpse to the church, and the bride to her chamber. +He omits nothing; and he supports every statement by the most amazing +array of documents. There are writings and inscriptions, and medals of +brass, and carved pieces of stone, and fragments of chests of drawers, +all giving confirmation strong to whatever fact he states. And this +minute supervision he extends over four centuries. The tradesman is +followed from the time of the domination of the English to the time of +the domination of Louis the Fourteenth. The noble is seen, over all that +lapse of time, governing, quarrelling, trampling, oppressing; and you +soon see that the Revolution of 1789 was a great revenge for centuries +of wrong; that the guillotine of 1793 was built out of timber planted by +feudal barons, when Francis the First was king; and you wonder no longer +at the inhuman ferocity of a peasantry and a middle class, equally +despised and equally hated by the spurred and feathered oligarchy who +ground them to the dust, and insulted them in their dearest relations. +Happily for us, feudalism died a natural death, or was put an end to +like a gentleman in fair fight at Naseby and elsewhere, or +scientifically bled into its grave by acts of Parliament, or John Bull +would have torn it in pieces like a tiger; for the _History of the +French of Various Conditions_ would apply equally well during the first +century of the record (the fourteenth) to our English trades. But in the +sixteenth the divergence is complete. Nobles in England are tyrants no +more, nor the lower classes slaves. When Leicester was entertaining +Elizabeth at Kenilworth, an Englishman’s house was his castle. When +Sully was raising adherents for Henry the Fourth, the French peasant had +no property and no rights. Leicester would have been tried for robbery +if he had taken forcible possession of John Smith’s ox or cow. Sully +would have passed scot-free if he had burned Jacques Bonhomme’s cottage +about his ears, and tossed that starveling individual into the flames on +the point of his lance. There is such an impression of truth and reality +about these revelations of Monteil, that we never have a doubt on the +smallest incident of his details. If for a moment we pause in our +perusal, and say, “Can this possibly be correct? Can such things be?” +What is the use of farther hesitation? You turn to the note at the end +of the volume. You find voucher after voucher, from all manner of +people—priests, lawyers, and judges. You might as well doubt your own +marriage, with the certificate of that stupendous fact before your eyes, +signed by parson and clerk, two bridesmaids, and the Best Man. It is +better to read on with unhesitating belief. You will only get into a +cloud of witnesses which will throw you positively into the dark ages, +as if you had been a spectator of the scene. And the author all this +time—is he a mere machine—a mill for the grinding of old facts into new +and contemporary pieces of knowledge, as an old bronze statue may be +coined into current money? Alexis is married; Alexis has a child—such a +wife and such a child no man was ever blessed with before. His father, +our deceased acquaintance, the former aristocrat of Rhodez, Monsieur +Jean Monteil, married his student son, shortly after the tempest burst +out upon the throne and nobility of France, to a charming creature, +young, innocent, and an heiress, daughter of a gentleman who, long +before this, had retired to enjoy his fortune with dignity—a Monsieur +Rivié, a little man, but strong—strong as a blacksmith. And this was +lucky, for he was a blacksmith by trade. Not a common blacksmith, be it +understood, but so clever, so sharp, so knowing, and withal such a +dreadfully hard hitter, that he was a very uncommon blacksmith indeed. +Little Rivié was the name he was known by all over the part of the +country where his anvil rung. But little Rivié rose to be great Rivié +before long. He shod horses for great men; he shod a war-horse for the +Prince of Conti; he shod a charger for Marshal Saxe; he shod a lame +horse so skilfully for a certain colonel that the colonel got him the +contract for supplying the regiment with its remounts. He bought lame +horses, of course, cured them, and sent them capering and caracolling to +the barracks. It was the best-horsed regiment at Dettingen, and ran away +at the first fire. So the smith grew rich, and married, and retired, as +was said above, to show his well-earned wealth and his delightful family +to his admiring townsfolk. As he rattled through the street, he became +so inflated with pride and happiness that the axle of his carriage +broke, and he was forced to alight. Luckily the accident happened just +opposite a smithy. The mulciber was an old fellow-apprentice, but could +not recognise his ancient comrade in the person of the great seignor who +had crushed his axle-tree by the mere weight of his importance. He also +could not mend the fracture. In a moment the noble stranger pulled off +his embroidered coat, tucked up his fine-linen sleeves, seized the +sledge, and, O heavens! wasn’t there a din?—a hail of blows?—a storm of +sparkles?—a rat-a-tat on the end, on the side, on the middle, and still +the twelve-pound hammer went on. “By St Eloi!” said the owner of the +instrument, “you are either the d—l himself or little Rivié.” And little +Rivié it was. And little Rivié he continued to the end, for all his +grandeur disappeared. That dreadful Revolution meets us at every turn. +It broke the axle-tree of Monsieur Rivié’s carriage, beyond the power of +Vulcan himself to mend—it took off his embroidered coat, which nobody +could ever restore—it tucked up his fine-linen shirt-sleeves, and +nothing could ever bring them down again. In the days of his prosperity +he had given his eldest daughter (and a dowry) to the Marquis de +Lusignan—a nobleman who advanced claims to the island of Cyprus and the +kingdom of Jerusalem, but was delighted to accept a few thousand francs +as “tocher” with the daughter of a contractor. He borrowed a few +thousands more on the income of the baronial estates of the Lusignans, +besides a collateral security on the revenues of the Holy City when it +was restored to its legitimate king. This mortgage was settled as the +marriage fortune of the younger daughter, the sweet and excellent +Annette. But the barony of Lusignan followed the example of Cyprus and +Jerusalem, and vanished into thin air at a twist of the necromantic wand +of Danton and Robespierre. Little Rivié was too old to resume the +hammer. He retired, with his sons and daughters, to a small farm in the +neighbourhood of Rhodez; and the ex-beadle and the ex-blacksmith +arranged a marriage between the historian of the trades and the sister +of the Queen of Cyprus. Her majesty had died, and her royal lord was +flourishing a pair of scissors, and occasionally a razor, in the +Burlington Arcade. Did the gentle Annette repine at her change of +fortune? Did she mourn over the days of her father’s grandeur, and +despise the queer, learned, modest, loving being she had enriched with +her first affection? Ah! never for an hour. They sometimes had a dinner, +sometimes not; but always mutual trust, always perfect love. +Occasionally, when fortune smiled more than usual, Alexis would address +a letter to her as “Her Royal Highness the Princess of Lusignan, in her +patrimonial Realm of Cyprus;” but this was only when a manuscript had +put them in funds. At other times they were sad enough. With the amount +of their united fortunes they had bought a small cottage and garden near +Fontainebleau. Here he resided, walking every day six miles to his class +and six miles back. Annette regularly met him, on his return, a mile or +two from home, and arm-inarm they re-entered their own domain. But the +class disappeared, the chair of history was suppressed, and the house +was offered for sale. A purchaser appeared, and Alexis, in the interest +of some future antiquarian of two thousand three hundred and nine, +preserved the “Agreement to buy.” It was between “Dame Monteil and his +majesty Napoleon the Great, Emperor of the French, King of Italy, and +Protector of the Confederation of the Rhine.” It is a pity that the sum +agreed on was not so magnificent as the titles of the buyer. It was only +two hundred pounds—“a small price,” says Alexis, with a sigh, “out of +the contributions of all Europe.” They now removed into a garret in a +suburb of Paris, and day by day the husband put on his hat and traversed +the great dark streets in search of something to do, but got no comfort +from the interminable lines of narrow-windowed houses; for not a door +was opened, not an offer was made, and, weary and disheartened, he found +his way back to his attic, to the suffering smile of Annette, and the +playful caresses of his boy. His Alexis was now two years old, and with +these two the heart of the simple student was completely filled. There +never had been such a child before, except among the cherubs of Murillo. +He would make him such a scholar! such a Christian! such a man!—but in +the mean time their two hundred pounds (diminished by the expenses of +the sale) were rapidly disappearing. The time of the green leaves was +coming on. They heard birds whistling in the dusty trees on the road +before their windows—they thought of the chestnuts, and limes, and +hedgerows of Rouergue. “Come,” said Alexis, “Paris has no need of such a +useless fellow as I am. Let us go home.” Annette packed up her small +possessions, took the young Alexis in her arms, and away they go in the +first sunny days of the month of May. Away they go on foot, Alexis +generally bestriding his father’s shoulders as if he felt Bucephalus +beneath him, and through the smiling plains: through Nemours, Montargis, +Cosne, Pouilly, lies their course, and Paris gradually is forgotten. +They walked at a good pace, for they liked to have an hour or two to +spare when they came to a shady place and a spring. Then they undid the +knapsack, and bread soaked in the fountain became ambrosia, and they did +not envy the gods. Through Moulins, Clermont, Issoire, on they go, +talking, arranging, hoping. And at last they see the chestnut trees, the +limes, the hedgerows—they are in the paradise of their youth: they know +the names of every field—they are beloved by all that see them—and they +live on sixty francs (two pounds eight and fourpence) a-month. The +vegetables are delightful, the milk plentiful, the loaf abundant, and +they never think of meat. Amans Alexis writes—writes—writes. Annette +sits beside him, and listens with entranced ears as he reads to her, +chapter by chapter, the history of her countrymen who lived, and worked, +and hungered so long ago. His great book is now begun, and his life is +happy. Scraps of paper with perfectly illegible lines furnish him with a +hint, which he works up into a statement. The statement grows a story, +the story grows a picture, and we become as familiarly acquainted with +Friar John, Cordelier of Tours, and Friar Andrew, Cordelier of +Thoulouse, as with any of our friends. And such a correspondent as Friar +John of Tours has seldom been met with since he started on his memorable +journey to Paris in the year 1340. Then all the personages introduced +are as real as a lord mayor. Where Alexis got his knowledge of +character, his sly observation, his exquisite touches of humour, is a +puzzle to those who know his story. But it was not in Stratford that +Shakespeare got his knowledge of the tortures of a successful usurper +like Macbeth; nor in London that he repeated at second hand the wit of +Benedict or Mercutio. Alexis found the grave dignity of the Sire de +Montbason, the ill-repressed ardour of the soldier-monk Friar William, +and the noble lessons in chivalry given by the Commander of Rhodes, in +the same wonderful reservoir of unacted experience in which Shakespeare +found the jealousy of the Moor and the philosophic wanderings of Hamlet. +The family group in the Castle of Montbason is worthy of Sterne, and the +warrior-colouring of Scott. + +The book grows—it takes shape—visions of wealth and honour look out in +every page; and again to Paris must they go. They go—and the same +wretched life comes upon them again. They are again in a garret. Again +Alexis walks through desolate streets; again his misery is cheered by +his wife and the prattle of his son: but he does not see a hectic colour +on Annette’s cheek, or hear a cough which shakes her frame. She never +mentions how weak she is growing—till at last concealment is impossible. +She languishes in the town air, and pants once more for the fields and +gardens. She sees, when lying on her sleepless bed, the whole district +rise before her as if she were there. She sees the church—the farm—the +cottage where they were so happy. Nothing will keep her in Paris; she +must die in her native village. Alexis is broken-hearted. It is +impossible for them all to travel so far; the journey by coach is too +expensive, on foot too far; but Annette must be gratified in all. It +seems a small favour to give to so good a wife—the choice of a place to +die in. + +“There are three spots,” says Alexis, “which I never pass without +thinking of Annette—the Rue de Seine, at the corner of the Rue de +Tournon. It was there that she all of a sudden began to limp, attacked +by rheumatism. ‘Ah!’ she cried, ‘’tis the last of my happy walks.’ +Another time, on the Pont Royal, a band of music passed, followed by the +Imperial Guards. Annette said to me, ‘I scarcely see them; there is a +cloud before my eyes.’ Alas, alas! my last recollection of her is at the +coach-office, where I saw her take her departure. ‘Adieu, adieu!’ she +said to me over and over with her sweet voice—and I was never to see her +again!” Alexis took no warning from the limping in the Rue de Seine, or +the blindness on the Pont Royal. She stayed with him, cheering him, +soothing him, sustaining him to the last; and then, when she could only +be a burden and a care to him, she unfolded her wings like a dove, and +flew away and was at rest. + +Alexis was very desolate now, but he laboured on; he lavished on his son +all the affection that formerly was spread over two. He educated him +himself—made him the sharer of his studies, the partner of his pursuits. +Brought up in such poverty, and accustomed only to his parents, he never +was a child. At thirteen he was grave, thoughtful, laborious, and had +the feelings of a man of middle age. The government did not altogether +pass over the claims to compensation for the suppression of the Historic +Chair which Alexis now advanced. He was made a sub-librarian at the +school of St Cyr, and ate his bread in faith; and he published his +volume, but got nothing for all his toil. It was in a style so new, and +on a subject so generally neglected, that it had a small circulation, +though highly esteemed by all who had the power to appreciate the skill +of the workman and the value of the work. Still he toiled on, for he had +his son to provide for; and the boy was now grown up—a fine stately +young man, reminding Alexis of his mother by the sweetness of his temper +and the beauty of his features. There were other points of resemblance +which he did not perceive. The youth was his father’s only companion, +the father was the youth’s only friend; and great was the pride of +Alexis when he was told that his comrade was in love, was loved, and was +soon about to marry. A bright prospect for poor old Monteil! who saw a +renewal of his own youth, and the tenderness of Annette, in the +happiness of his son and the attentions of his daughter-in-law. The son +was admitted as clerk of the historical archives of France, and his +salary was enough for his wants. The audience, fit, though few, which +approved of the father’s volumes, encouraged him to proceed. There was +at last a prospect of a brilliant fame and a comfortable income. They +could buy a small house at Fontainebleau; they would all live together: +when children came, there would be new editions of the Fourteenth +Century, to be a portion for the girl; the Fifteenth Century should +educate the boy; the Sixteenth should go into a fund for saving; and the +other centuries could surely be a provision for the author’s old age. +Could anything be more delightful or more true? But young Monteil grew +weak, no one knew why. He walked home in the rain one evening, and dried +himself at the stove: he shivered as he stood before it, and then went +to bed—and then was in a fever—and in three days he died! + +“I lost him,” says Alexis, “on the 21st September 1833, at eleven +o’clock at night. I closed his eyes. Oh, misery! Oh, my child!—my second +self! Hearest thou the cries and sobs of the wretched being who was once +thy father? Dost thou recognise the voice of the poor old man whom thou +so lovedst—who loved thee so? Thou leavest him alone upon the earth, and +his hair is now white, and his arms empty!” + +And his house was empty, and his purse, but not his cup of suffering. +Away went all his dreams of buying the little villa at Fontainebleau, +with its garden and paddock, its cow-shed and hen-roost. A vault was now +to be purchased, and Monteil had not the necessary sum. But was his son, +the hope of his old age, the tenderest and most affectionate of +children, to be committed to the common grave, tossed in without a name, +without a headstone, without a flower above his head? No! he would beg, +he would pray—he would implore as a favour that a little spot of earth +should be given him to be the resting-place of his boy till he joined +him in the tomb—together the loving two, in death as in life. He wrote +to the prefecture of the Seine with his simple request; but not a clerk +in all that establishment had heard of his book. He got no answer. Still +he did not despair. He left the corpse for an hour—he walked to the +prefect—he saw him, he said to him, bare-headed, broken-voiced, +“Monsieur, I am Monteil;” but a look at the dignitary’s face showed him +that there was no response to the announcement. “Perhaps,” he said, “you +never heard my name?” And it was too true. He turned away, staggered +blindly down the stair, with his hand before his eyes. And he saw his +son cast carelessly, disdainfully, into the vast ditch—into which the +penniless are thrown. + +Amans Alexis Monteil wrote at his great work no more. Fortune so far +smiled on him that he succeeded to a sum of £300. With this he bought a +cottage at Cely, a pretty village near Fontainebleau, and lived on +hermit’s fare. He wandered and mused in the Bois de Boulogne; he sat on +the stone seats of the gardens of the Luxembourg; but he saw no one at +home, visited no one abroad. He had ventured all the happiness of his +life on two frail barks, and both had foundered. Annette and Alexis, +both had gone, and why should he labour more? The villagers saluted him +as he passed, out of respect to age and sorrow, and he repaid them after +his kind. He traced up their genealogies—discovered for them where their +ancestors had come from, and finished by composing a veritable History +of the hamlet where he lived. The historian of the commons of France +became also historian of Cely, and more—he became its benefactor and +friend. Just before his death, he founded recompenses for good conduct. +He consented to the sale of a certain portion of his domain, and with +the interest of the money so raised he ordered medals of honour—silver, +with an inscription—to be given annually to the man who should drain a +marshy piece of ground—to him who should plant the finest vine round his +cottage—to the best labourer—to the village crone or washerwoman who +should amuse her circle of listeners with the most entertaining (and +innocent) stories—and to the shepherd who should show the kindest +treatment of his flock, _remembering that all have the same Creator_. +And thus mindful of his poorer neighbours, and just and benevolent to +the end, Amans Alexis Monteil closed his honourable life. His work has +been twice crowned by the Institute of France; it is in its fourth +edition; it has been eulogised by Guizot—it will be the delight of many +generations. But what cares Amans Alexis for favour that comes so late? +Sufficient for him is the neglected turf grave in the churchyard of +Cely, with the short inscription of his name and the record of his +seventy-five years of pain. “Requiescat in pace.” + + +The _History of the French of Various Conditions_ extends over the five +last centuries, and the plan of each century differs. The Fourteenth is +painted in a series of letters, as we have said, from a certain Friar +John, a Cordelier of Tours, to a brother of his rule residing at +Toulouse. The character of the worthy letter-writer is charmingly +sustained. Keen, cautious, observant, and yet with the simplicity +natural to the inmate of a cloister, he gives a clear description to his +friend of everything he sees, every conversation he hears, every place +he visits. He enters the huts where poor men lie, and we learn the state +of the labourer; he enters the dungeon, and reveals the secrets of the +prison-house; he goes to the Fair of Montrichard, and we walk about +among the booths. He gives the minutest details of the royal court—and, +in short, manages to lift the reader completely back into the days of +rich monasteries and private wars, and tournaments and duels. He has no +antiquarian disquisitions or tiresome catalogues of furniture or dress; +we rely on the faithfulness of the loquacious and gentlemanly Friar, and +feel certain they are real letters written at the dates assigned. The +fifteenth century is presented with the same marvellous freshness of +detail, but without the individuality of the inimitable Friar John. It +is a pity that excellent special correspondent did not turn out to be +the Wandering Jew, and traverse all the centuries from first to last. We +must suppose he died full of years and honours—let us hope, as head of +some noble abbey—before the fifteenth century began. His place, however, +is admirably supplied. We perceive a change taking place in the +relations of the different classes of society, and the change is +traceable in still stronger colours when, in the sixteenth century, we +come to the impression produced by his visit to France on a clear-headed +unprejudiced Spaniard. His glance is as penetrating, and his inquiries +as minute, as those of Friar John and the other; but the same may be +said of all the supposed observers. They are all mere secretaries of +Monteil, and write the same pure idiomatic and characteristic style. The +laughing eyes and scornful lips of the Cordelier of Tours, the Hermit of +Cely, come out through all disguise; and the Spaniard of the sixteenth +century, and “Memoirist” of the seventeenth, are only admirable +continuers of the correspondence commenced between the priests. It will, +therefore, be like mounting to the fountain-head if we go back to the +fourteenth century, and read the account of Friar John’s visit to the +great Castle of Montbason—a perfect representative of a feudal residence +just before feudalism began to fall into decay. A dreadful event has +happened in the chateau. While the Sire de Montbason is absent at the +head of his vassals assisting the king, he left everything in charge of +the grand huntsman. The grand huntsman, in pursuing a peasant who had +offended him, knocks out his brains on the arch of a gateway, and is +found dead on the road. The peasant, as if he had been guilty of murder, +is immediately tied up to a gallows and hanged. During the preparations +the wife and children of the wretched man stood at the foot of the wall +crying “Mercy, mercy!” but the representatives of the grand huntsman are +inexorable. The peasant swings off, and the cries of the widow and +orphan ascend to Heaven for vengeance. The Curé of the parish hears of +the transaction, and excommunicates the revengeful sons of the grand +huntsman. The Sire de Montbason returns and compensates the peasant’s +family, and founds a perpetual mass for the poor man’s soul. But nothing +will do; noises are heard in the castle, furniture moves about, chains +rattle; the house is haunted, and the spirits resist the exorcisms of +the Curé, and kick up wilder confusion than ever. The Sire sends to the +monastery of the Cordeliers at Tours, and Friar John is fixed upon by +the prior. There could not have been a better choice. He goes and prays, +and burns incense, and lights candles, and the supernatural noises are +heard no more. He remains at the chateau an honoured guest, and the +almoner even resigns to him the privilege of saying grace before and +after meat. John is overwhelmed with the honour, but accepts the duty; +and, we doubt not, was the pleasantest ghost-layer the Sire de Montbason +had ever seen. His nineteenth letter to Friar Andrew is all about the +house he is in:— + +“Montbason is one of the finest chateaus in France. Fancy to yourself a +superb position—a steep hill rugged with rocks, and indented with deep +ravines and precipices. On the ascent is the castle. The little houses +at its feet increase its apparent size. The Indre seems to retire +respectfully from the walls, and forms a semicircle round its front. You +should see it at sunrise, when its outside galleries glitter with the +arms and accoutrements of the guard, and its towers are shining in the +light. The gate, flanked with little towers, and surmounted by a lofty +guard-house, is covered all over with heads of wolves and wild boars. +Enter, and you have three enclosures, three ditches, three drawbridges +to cross. You find yourself in the great quadrangle where the cisterns +are placed, and on right and left the stables, the hen-roosts, the +dovecots, the coach-houses. Underground are the cellars, the vaults, the +prisons. Above are the living-rooms, and above them the magazines, the +larders, the armoury. The roofs are surrounded with parapets and +watch-towers. In the middle of the yard is the donjon, which contains +the archives and the treasure. It has a deep ditch all round it, and +cannot be approached except by a bridge, which is almost always raised. +Though the walls, like those of the castle, are six feet thick, it has +an external covering of solid hewn stone up to the half of its height. + +“The castle has been lately repaired. There is something light and +elegant about it which was wanting in the chateaus of old. You may well +believe it is finished in the most modern style: great vaulted rooms +with arched windows filled with painted glass; large halls paved in +squares of different colours; handsome furniture of all kinds; solid +stands with bas-reliefs, representing hell or purgatory; presses carved +like church-windows; great caskets; immense leather trunks, mounted in +iron; great red boxes; mirrors of glass, at least a foot in width, and +some of metal of the same size; great sofas with arms, covered with +tapestry and ornamented with fringes; benches with trellis-work backs; +others, twenty feet long, with hanging covers, or stuffed cushions, +embroidered with coats-of-arms. I must tell you, however, that the beds +do not seem at all proportioned to the rank of the owner. They are not +above ten or eleven feet wide; I have seen much larger in houses of less +pretence. But as to the decoration of the apartments, nothing can be +more sumptuous. There are show-rooms and chambers of state, which are +named from the colour or subjects of the hangings with which they are +covered. There are some where the great pillars that support the beams +of the ceiling are ornamented with ribbons and flowers in tin. There are +some where figures of life-size, painted on the walls, carry in their +hands, or projecting from their mouths, scrolls on which texts are +written, pleasant to read, and most excellent for the morals of the +beholders. + +“As to the mode of life, it is pleasant enough, except that we do not +dine till nearly twelve o’clock, and never sup till after sunset—which +appears to me a little too late. The day, in other respects, is +agreeably varied. In the morning the courtyard is filled with squires, +huntsmen, and pages, who make their horses go through their evolutions. +Then they divide into parties, and defend and attack some staked-off +piece of ground with amazing strength and activity, amid the applause of +all the spectators. After dinner there is leaping at the bar, +quoit-throwing, ninepins, and other games. In addition to all this we +have the parrots and monkeys. We have also the old female jester of the +late Sire de Montbason and the young fool of the present lord. He is so +gay, and so full of tricks and nonsense, that in rainy days he is the +life of the whole house. + +“The almoner has charge of the evening’s entertainments. He has seen the +world, and recounts agreeably; but, as he has never gone on pilgrimage, +and has not lived either in convents or monasteries, he cannot give us +above three stories in a night, for fear of repeating himself. But, +fortunately, we have an ancient Commander of Rhodes, who has visited the +Holy Land, and has travelled in the three parts of the world. He is an +uncle of the Sire de Montbason. He relates his adventures delightfully. +It is only a pity his bad health makes him go to bed so soon. +Frequently, also, we have jugglers and vaulters; wandering musicians +sometimes come, and we have concerts on the trumpet and flute and +tambourine; harps and lutes, cymbals and rebecs. This very day we had a +visit from a man who played on the viol, and never could get the strings +in harmony. And no wonder; for it was found out that some of the chords +were of the gut of a sheep, and others of the gut of a wolf. How could +they agree? But he was paid as liberally as the rest. + +“Life in these castles would be almost too happy if it were not mixed, +like every other, with anxieties and alarms. Sometimes when we least +expect it—in the middle of dinner or when we are sound asleep—the +alarm-bell is rung. In a moment everything is astir—the bridges are +raised—the portcullis falls, the gates are closed—everybody starts up +from table or bed, and runs to the turrets, to the machicoulis, to the +loopholes, to the barbicans. A few days ago I was witness to one of +these “alertes,” and during the space of forty-eight hours nobody was +allowed to close an eye but the almoner and me. Every one was kept to +his post—but nothing came of it. It was a Vidame of the neighbourhood, +who had thought that the Sire de Montbason was levying his retainers, +and preparing to attack his chateau; and so, without sending letters of +defiance, he had taken the field against us with three hundred men. +There were parleyings and explanations on both sides, and everything was +arranged. On this subject the Dowager-Lady of Montbason tells us that +these private wars are not so frequent as they used to be. She remembers +that, in the week of her marriage, there was such a fierce and +long-continued attack upon the castle, that not a soul went to bed for +eight days.” + +This letter is dated the fifteenth day of February; and other +experiences are recorded during almost every week of his five months’ +residence in the chateau of Montbason. He describes the kitchens, the +grates, the cooking apparatus, and all the feeding appliances required +for the army which garrisons the castle. In a day or two he is summoned +to visit a prisoner in the _souterrain_ or cave, to which he descends, +like a pitcher into a well, suspended by a rope; and, by the light of +the lantern he carries, he recognises the wretched captive on his +handful of straw, with the pan of water near him in which the untasted +crust is soaked. He has been condemned to this wretched dungeon for +neglect of certain duties; and what they are we learn from the eloquent +pleading of Friar John, who intercedes for the unhappy man with the Sire +de Montbason. “My lord,” he says, “I come to implore your pardon and +compassion for one of your men. It is not true that he has refused to +have his wheat ground at your mill, or his meat baked at your ovens; +that he cut his hay or his crops, or gathered his grapes, before the +publication of your ‘ban;’ that he had his ploughshare sharpened without +obtaining your permission and paying you the fee. He can prove all this +by a hundred witnesses. He can prove, also, that he has regularly +laboured and reaped your lands, and always paid the rates and rent of +his holding; that he has carried the wood and water and provisions up to +the chateau; that he has never chased upon your grounds, and has always +fed your dogs.” These, and many other denials urged by the good-hearted +Friar, are nearly losing their effect by the opposition offered to his +entreaties by the Commander of Rhodes. That sturdy old knight +pertinaciously stands up for the rights of his order, and on all +occasions is for the exercise of power. “To the gallows! to the +gallows!” he cries; and points to that instrument of paternal +government, which consists of two tall uprights before the window. But +eloquence has its reward. “The Sire de Montbason,” says Friar John, “has +pardoned his unfortunate retainer, and he is now in the midst of his +children. That old Commander,” he adds, “his long exercise of authority +sometimes makes him harsh, and turns his heart as hard as the steel that +covers it.” + +But a field-day is at hand, in the description of which there is +condensed a whole history of a feudal baron’s relations with his +tenants. It is the day when the Sire de Montbason holds his court baron, +and a tremendous time it must have been for the holders of his fiefs. + +“To-day the Sire de Montbason left the chateau, attended by all his +suite. He was mounted on a white horse, with a hawk on his wrist, in +robe of state, with armorial bearings on his coat, which was one-half +red and the other blue. On arriving at the place called the ‘Stone +Table,’ he took his seat. All his household, dressed in cloth liveries, +ranged themselves behind his chair. A gentleman whose lands are held +under Montbason presented himself bare-headed, without spur or sword, +and knelt at the Sire de Montbason’s feet, who, having taken his hands +in his, said to him, ‘You avow yourself my liegeman in right of your +castle, and swear to me, on the faith of your body, that you will serve +me as such against all who may live or die, except our lord the king.’ +The gentleman having replied, ‘I swear,’ the Sire de Montbason kissed +him on the mouth, and ordered the act of homage to be registered. + +“There next came forward a gentleman of the neighbourhood and his son, +who demanded the right of lower justice over the western half of their +great hall, because on the eastern side their manorial rights extended a +full league. The Sire de Montbason consented with a good grace to this +abridgment of his fief. Scarcely had this gentleman and his son +concluded their thanks for this favour, when another gentleman advanced, +and said a few words in the Sire de Montbason’s ear, touching the ground +with his knee several times while he spoke. ‘I consent,’ said the Sire +de Montbason. ‘Since you find your residence too small, I permit you to +build a stronghold, with curtains, turrets, and ditch; but no +weathercock, no towers, and, above all, no donjon.’ + +“Meanwhile the Sire de Montbason beckoned a crowd of villagers to +approach, who had stood respectfully at a distance, all loaded with +provisions and goods of different kinds. Immediately the ground at his +feet was covered with wheat, with birds, hams, butter, eggs, wax, honey, +vegetables, fruits, cakes, bouquets of flowers, and chaplets of roses. +They were instantly carried away by the people of the chateau, and +several tenants came forward into the empty space, some making grimaces, +and some going through strange contortions of body. Others came, some to +kiss the bolt of the principal gate of the dominant fief, some to sing a +ludicrous song, and some to have their ears and noses slightly pulled by +the _maître d’hôtel_, who also bestowed a few smacks on the right and +left cheeks. The Sire de Montbason ordered legal quittance to be given +to all. The assembly then formed a circle round him, and the Sire de +Montbason spoke. ‘My friends,’ he said, ‘I have received too much money +of you this year, to my great regret; the forfeitures for thefts, +quarrels, wounds, blows, and bad language, have never come to so much +before. I have hitherto remitted the fines for improper conduct and +indecency, but I will remit them no more. Ask Friar John if I can +conscientiously do so.’ Everybody’s eyes were turned upon me at once; I +made a sign of strong negation with a shake of my head. The Sire de +Montbason went on. ‘I am very well satisfied with the way in which the +statute-labour has been done, but there are still some suits of page’s +livery not delivered; a good many boots are required for my people, and +a still greater quantity, I hear, need to be mended.’ ‘My lord,’ replied +a poor man named Simon, ‘the artisans of your lands, the tailors, +shoemakers, and cobblers, have all worked the full week they owe you, +and you cannot call upon us for more.’ ‘Ah! very well,’ said the Sire, +and cried to a labourer he recognised far off in the crowd, ‘Come on, +Jacques, I see you there; advance! I found the south door of my castle +of Veigné in a very bad state. You know very well that, according to +your tenure, your family is bound to keep it in repair; and besides it +is as much your affair as mine, for if the enemy takes the field, as may +very likely happen, what will be the use of your right to refuge in a +stronghold, if its gates are bad?’ He next addressed a woman who stood +near him. ‘Widow Martin, you keep poor guard in my castle of Sorigni. I +am told you often sleep instead of watching. You don’t sleep when you +have to come for the corn you receive, according to old agreements, for +this very duty.’ He then spoke to the whole assembly again. ‘I have +further to complain of you, that you are not active in taking arms when +my trumpets make proclamation of war; and, moreover, that your weapons +are not good. When I make an attack with fire and sword, you enter into +arrangements with your friends and relations who occupy the lands of the +lords I am at feud with. They are not so complaisant on my grounds, and +that is the reason I have so often to build you new houses, or pay you +compensation. I have to complain, also, that those who have heritages in +other manors go and live on them. Methinks you are well enough treated +here, to be content to keep the fire alive. You also let your lands lie +fallow for more than three years. I have the right to cultivate them for +my own use, and I will exercise it. I blame you further for refusing my +purveyors credit for fifty days, as you are bound to do. My good +friends, I am bound, indeed, to give you my favour and protection, but +you are bound no less to show your affection for me.’ + +“The tenants now made way for the serfs, and I remarked more familiarity +and kindness between them and the Sire de Montbason than I had seen with +the others. To all their requests, he answered, ‘With pleasure—with +great pleasure: what you lack in the house, you shall find in the +castle.’ The Sire de Montbason retired. Scarcely had he gone, when there +rushed in a man—fat, breathless, red-faced, with perspiration oozing at +every pore. This was the courier of the manor, an office he inherited +from his great-grandfather, who had been an active, strong-limbed man, +and one of the swiftest runners of his time.” The plethoric Mercury came +to render homage for his fief, and would not have had breath to utter +his oath even if he had not been too late. The day concludes with the +extraordinary performances of the villagers in clearing the moat of +Montbason of frogs—a service they are bound to render when the voice of +the animals hindered the inhabitants of the castle from repose. + +How superior this method of giving a view of some of the peculiarities +of feudalism is to the common dissertations we meet with, will be +acknowledged by any one who prefers a chapter of _Ivanhoe_ to an +explanation by Ducange. We are tempted to make quotation from the +conversations between the worthy Friar John and the Commander of Rhodes, +in one of which the veteran soldier fights nobly in defence of the right +of private war; and there are other incidents in which the two men are +brought out with a freshness and individuality not at all to be expected +in the lucubrations of the chief of the French Dryasdusts; but we must +content ourselves with the last glimpse of knight-errantry. Ill fares it +with a period when it can be truly said its days of chivalry are past. +But chivalry was a thing and a principle, and knight-errantry a +pretence. There is the same difference between them as between the quiet +benevolent practice of a physician, and the noisy operations of a quack +doctor at a fair. How, in the midst of all that ignorance, and that +rough handling of sword and spear, arose the poetic idealisation of +personal honour and respect for woman, it is impossible to say. The fact +is all we can answer for, and the result. At first the ennobling +pictures of unselfishness and courtesy and generosity were viewed by the +portly baron, the rough, gruff old head-breaker on the dais, as they +were meant to be viewed; namely, as altogether fictitious and imaginary +representations of a state of manners which never had real existence. +But the young squire his son, the long-haired maiden his daughter, who +sat on the tabouret at his feet; the pages who stood open-mouthed behind +his chair—were of a very different opinion. They believed in King +Arthur, and in Amadis, and in Gualior, and in the peerless damosel who +cheered him with such loving caress and such purity of heart; and, in +the next generation, they resolved to form themselves on the model set +before them in the achievements of these heroes and princesses. And if +the state of their quarrels did not allow them to carry out all the +refinements practised in those romances—if they were still forced to +carry battle into their neighbour’s manor, and carry off their +neighbour’s daughter, they did so “with a difference;” they doffed their +plumed helmet when they received their vanquished enemy’s sword; they +bent knee to ground when they locked the captive maiden into her bower. +Chivalry was a recognised fact, and was at all events a standard by +which to measure their actions, if not always a barrier against the +actions themselves. But its truest merit is the effect it undoubtedly +produced on the civilisation of Europe. It supplied the place of +religion itself, when religion was either locked up entirely in an +unknown tongue, or enveloped in manifold additions which concealed it +like the cerements of an Egyptian mummy. The code of honour gradually +exerted its sway where civil laws were ineffectual. There were virtues +inculcated, and vices condemned by it, which criminal courts could +neither reward nor punish. Truth, generosity, temperance, purity, +defence of innocent weakness, resistance to strong injustice—these +formed the true knights’ system of laws. The opposite evils were +forbidden on pain of general censure. And the final effect has been +this—that no nation which has not gone through the period of chivalry +can give its true and full meaning to the great word “Gentleman.” India, +China, Russia, never felt its force; they have, therefore, no civil +freedom, no personal self-respect. A system which has given rise to all +the gentlemen of Europe should never lightly be talked of; and Amans +Alexis in his garret had as high an appreciation of gallant knight and +fair ladie as if he had been present, when + + “High in the breathless hall the minstrel sate,” + +and charmed young and old with the music of harp and song. But +knight-errantry—a running to and fro in search of adventures!—a +travelling attorney in pursuit of practice in the courts of Honour!—it +scarcely needed the genius of Cervantes to bring this extravagance into +ridicule; for even the commander of the fourteenth century, himself +vowed to the protection of injured innocence, laughs at the pre-Quixotic +absurdity as if he had had the knight of La Mancha before his eyes. A +specimen of the genus even then was looked on as our naturalists would +now look upon a dodo. “I must tell you a curious thing that lately +occurred here. A knight-errant is not often seen nowadays, though the +genus is not extinct. One came here and wound the horn which hangs +before the great gate of the chateau. No trumpet having sounded in +reply, as is the rule on these occasions, he turned his horse and rode +away. The pages ran after him, and after many excuses for their want of +skill on the trumpet, they persuaded him to come back. Meanwhile the +ladies had dressed to receive him, and taken their places in state, +holding embroidery-frames in their hands. The Lady of Montbason was +attired in a robe stiffened with gold, which had been in the house for +more than a century. The dowager covered her head with a fur cap +according to the fashion of her youth, and loaded herself with ermine. +The knight comes in along with his squire, both covered all over with +dangling plates of brass, making as much noise as a mule when loaded +with copper pots and pans ill packed. The knight having ordered his +squire to take off his helmet, revealed a head nearly bald, and fringed +with long white hair. His left eye was tied up with a piece of green +cloth, of the same colour as his coat. He had made a vow, he said, not +to see with his left eye, nor eat with the right side of his mouth, till +he had accomplished his enterprise. The ladies offered him refreshment. +He replied by throwing himself at their feet, and swearing eternal love +to old and young, saying, that though his armour was of truest steel, it +could not defend him against their arrows; that he should die of the +wounds they inflicted—that he felt himself expiring—and a hundred other +follies of the same kind. As he persisted in this style, particularly in +his address to the lady of Montbason, whose hand he frequently kissed, I +became impatient; the Commander perceived my annoyance. ‘Good!’ he said: +‘these old fools have their set words and phrases like a village lawyer. +But keep your temper; perhaps he won’t stay the day.’ And in fact in a +few hours he departed. Such are the ridiculous remains of that ancient +chivalry which at one time ennobled humanity with so many virtues and so +much glory.” + +Poor old frivolous knight-errant! away he goes for ever out of human +ken, with both eyes bandaged now, and all his enterprises accomplished; +and, at the same time with him, dies off also another form of resistance +to oppression, where the performer was of far humbler rank, and came in +aid of justice in a much more legitimate way. There seems to have been +no town in France of sufficient importance to have a court of civil or +criminal process, which did not maintain a champion as one of the chief +officers of its administration. The duty of this distinguished +functionary was to supply any lack of evidence which might occur in the +course of a trial; and as it was generally necessary to obtain the +assistance of two witnesses in the conviction of a culprit, the champion +watched over the cause, and when only one witness was producible, threw +his sword into the scale which he believed to be just, and did battle +with any one who would take up arms on behalf of the other side. All +through the early centuries, the office of town or precinct champion was +as well recognised, and considered as indispensable, as that of notary +or judge. But some terrible things happened in the fifteenth century, +which put the arbitrement of the sword into disrepute. Printing and +gunpowder, when they came to maturity, were fatal to many a stout-armed +gentleman, who had been installed in his honourable post of champion of +the town, and had brought up his children with the honourable ambition +of handling his sword and stepping into his shoes. How many Oxford +coachmen and Cheltenham “whips,” in the same way, had to descend from +the box, and turn their energies into other channels, on the first +whistle of the railway engine! + +It happened one day, says Alexis, in the first page of the second volume +(which is equivalent to the middle or latter end of the fifteenth +century), that a good many people were collected in the great chamber of +the town-hall of Troyes, along with the mayor and bailiffs, when a +curious question arose, as to which of all the trades and conditions +were the worst. Everybody, as might be expected, laid claim to that bad +eminence on behalf of his own. But at last it was arranged, that on that +evening, and at their succeeding meetings, the question should be +thoroughly gone into, and every man give some account of the evils he +complained of, so that the company might decide after a full hearing of +the evidence. On this hint the different personages speak. There is a +beggar who paints a wretched picture of the state of his fraternity, +even in those days of meritorious alms and food at the monastery gates. + +“Who denies,” he cries, “that the beggar’s state is the most miserable +of all?—who? Why, the bad Christians, the hard-hearted rich; and they +are so plentiful now! How often have I heard it said in the days of my +prosperity, that the poor were in the happiest state; that their +revenues were secured on the charity of the public; and that they lived +without care, with nothing to do but say their paternosters, and hold +out their hands! Alas, alas! nobody thought of adding how often their +hands remained empty—how often they had to submit in patience to the +hunger of many days, to the cold of many months.” + +Then come the farmer, the messenger, the comedian, and many more; but +after the noble (for even he has discomforts to complain of), the tale +is taken up by a person who is minutely described and introduced by the +name of Vieuxbois. + +Vieuxbois, who remembers the time when he was champion of the city, and +believes that he is so still, though there is now neither champion nor +lists, generally sits near the chimney. He is always dressed in an old +suit of clothes, very tidy and clean, and always carries a long iron +sword suspended by a sash of red silk. His face is so haggard and thin +that it is nothing but bone. People call him more than a hundred years +old, but he has the vanity of being thought young, and only confesses to +ninety. This evening he rose from his chair, and having saluted the +company several times with his sword, he resumed his chair, and thus +began:— + +“Gentlemen, you are all complaining of your callings, which proves, at +least, that callings are still left you; but for us miserable +champions—for us, the most miserable of you all—there is no calling left +except in name. Oh! the long past, happy, blessed days of France! days, +above all, of the fourteenth, thirteenth, twelfth centuries!—why can’t I +prolong them into the present time! Then the sword of the champion was +honoured—it decided where the judge was puzzled. Then the champion, the +lists, the trumpet, the charge in every doubtful case: but now there is +so much knowledge! there is so much learning! no more doubts—no more +puzzled judges—and the champion’s occupation’s gone! But oh! little did +my grandfather, the Champion of Chalons—he was hanged in that +office—foresee this wretched time. Just before he was turned off, he +summoned my father, who had fled from the scene in tears, and said, +‘Champion, my son, weep not: it does not become a champion to weep: the +cause I supported was just. I die because I did not parry in carte. +Study the carte, my son; it is the best of the thrusts: you must deliver +it free—you must have your wrist well placed. My adversary made a +movement—it was against all the rules—but it deceived me. Champion, my +son, attend to your trade—it is a good one; and above all, I beseech +you, do not neglect the carte.’ But the people became impatient, and +cried out for his execution; they were enraged because he had undertaken +the defence of a wretch whom they considered guilty; and disdaining to +reason with his inferiors, my grandfather shrugged his shoulders two or +three times in sign of contempt, and died like a true and noble +champion. + +“My father also was hanged. You are astonished, gentlemen; that is +because you did not know the good old times, when, the moment a champion +was vanquished, he was dragged from the lists, and hoisted on the +gallows. After having been victorious a great number of times, he died +at last, not from want of courage or address, but because he slipt. He +died, recommending me always to wear sharp-headed nails in my shoes. I +can declare that his fate was much regretted by the people, while the +person for whom he fought, and who was going to be hanged along with +him, had the bad taste to find fault with him in coarse insulting +language. He was an advocate, and always an uncivil sort of man. My +father was a man of fine manners and excellent temper. ‘Master Martean,’ +he said, ‘neither you nor any of your craft are able to give me lessons +in the management of my sword. I shall speak to you no more.’ He kept +his word; the next moment they were run up. My mother brought me my +father’s sword: and though it was at that time a little taller than +myself, I managed to draw it from the sheath and swing it at +arm’s-length. This was thought a good augury, and great expectations +were entertained of me when I should be old enough to be champion. When +I was twenty, my active life began. Two men of distinction, each above +sixty years of age, had accused each other without sufficient proofs. +The judicial duel was ordered, of course. A beautiful closed ring raised +on the banks of the Marne was crowded on the following day with all the +rank and fashion of Champagne—for such sights were already become rare. +The combat was on the point of beginning. I was at the summit of +felicity. My eyes flashed brighter than my arms. The party for whom the +opposite champion was engaged, perhaps perceived this, for offers of +accommodation were made, and the duel was at an end. The disappointment +of the spectators was immense. The authorities feared an uproar, and to +quiet the populace, it was proposed by the mayor and magistrates that I +should marry the daughter of my adversary, and that a fête should be +given in honour of the event. Her name was Championnette: she was +beautiful as the day—she was just sixteen; and you may imagine I offered +no opposition to the match. The wedding rejoicings commenced at once, +and the enclosure where the combat was to have taken place, could +scarcely contain the dancers. Next day there were joustings with sword +and lance. The trumpets of the town-hall had never ceased their music, +and at night there were bonfires and illuminations.” + +After his marriage with Championnette, it was impossible for him to be +the hostile champion to his father-in-law; and his travels in search of +occupation take him through several districts in France. In all he finds +the dignity of the office decaying, its privileges denied, and its +income annihilated. He goes from place to place, but the scales of +justice were now getting so evenly balanced that he seldom required the +sword to adjust the weight. He comes, among other places, to Lyons. +“What do you take us for?” says the bailiff. “Perhaps you think Lyons a +Gothic town of the fourteenth century. Lyons is a polished city, +enlightened and civilised, where everybody knows how to write. Nobody, +therefore, can now deny his signature. Go rather to some out-of-the-way +valley in the Jura or the Vosges. It is possible a champion may still be +useful among the savages there.” It is impossible to describe the +indignation of the gallant Vieuxbois on this insulting speech. However, +he restrains his wrath, and passes on, but no better reception awaits +him wherever he goes. At last there is a glimpse of prosperity and a +chance of work when he gets to the valley of the Aspe, among the +Pyrenees. The magistracy of that small republic receive him courteously, +but even here he finds he comes too late. “‘We might have sent you,’ +said the rulers of the republic, ‘into the valley of Lavedan, but it has +no intention now of seeking a champion to resist our claims.’ ‘And why +did the valley wish to fight you?’ I inquired. ‘It was because their +little abbé, St Sevin, irritated against the valley of the Aspe, uttered +his curse upon it. Whereupon every year we were visited with great +storms and tempests, and sometimes for months the hail fell upon our +republic, but we were miraculously avenged. The earth, and all the +inhabitants, and all the cattle, great and small, were struck with +sterility throughout the Lavedan. To get remission of this dreadful +plague, they came and begged for mercy on the valley of the Aspe. Peace +was made between the two valleys, and Lavedan was absolved from the sin +of its old abbé. During the eighty years of this treaty, the conditions +have several times been broken. Our republic demanded satisfaction. The +valley of Lavedan wished to defend itself by a champion, but has not +been able to find one. We therefore have no occasion for your services, +but if a few acres of ground, a few sheep and oxen, a cottage such as +you see——’ + +“Thanks, gentlemen of the republic of the Aspe,” says Vieuxbois, “my +fathers were gentlemen, and lived by the sword. I am not yet so fallen +as to maintain myself by flocks and herds.” But years pass on, and no +doubt he looked back on the offers he had rejected with useless regret. +Meanwhile his family becomes numerous, but they are victims of the +advancing arts and sciences. One is a transcriber of manuscripts, and +the press throws his pen out of work. Another illuminates old books, and +engraving upsets his colours. Another is a maker of bows and arrows, and +arbalists and other engines of war, but gunpowder and cannon unstring +all his bows, and knock his ballistas in pieces. A grandson is +sedulously educated for the profession of a fool; but as a profession it +falls into disrepute, and the jester unlearns his quiddities, keeps his +features at rest like other people, and starves as becomes a reasonable +man. The only happy one of the family is another grandson, who is +blessed with such a tremendous eruption on his face that he has got +admission to a leprosy-house, where he is wonderfully fed and kindly +treated. The eruption is not leprosy; but, in the alarming scarcity of +real sufferers by that malady, the office-bearers of the houses of +retreat, who derive great salaries for their posts (which they execute +by deputy), are glad to accept a pensioner with so near a resemblance to +the true disease; for what would they do if leprosy disappeared +altogether? The story of the old champion comes to an end, and it is +difficult to imagine that any of the other complainants can give a more +wretched account of their position. But misery is, in fact, in that +century, the characteristic of all conditions of life. As the ages move +on, men get better; their places become more defined.—The remaining +volumes of the work are occupied with the progress of the people, and +their gradual elevation into civil consideration and political power. We +may return to the same portrait-gallery for pictures of the innkeepers, +the fishermen, the town-criers, the merchants, the nurses, the lawyers, +and the artists of the different periods. They are all drawn from the +life, and are warranted likenesses. But at present we have said enough. + + + + + BIOGRAPHY GONE MAD. + + +At certain intervals, ever since the days of Solomon, it has been found +necessary, as a matter of sheer duty, to lift the voice of warning +against that much study which wearies the flesh, and the making many +books of which there is no end. It is now several years since a strong +protest was raised in this Magazine against the too common and most +reprehensible practice of raking among dead men’s ashes, and violating +the confidences of the living, for no higher purpose than the +gratification of biographic weakness and vulgar curiosity. Man is +indeed, as Goethe has said, ever interesting to man, and no species of +bookmaking finds readier excuses than biography. But man ought also to +be sacred to man; and of all the injuries that can be inflicted on a +dead man’s memory, none is more cruel than the act of the friendly ghoul +who unnecessarily recalls him from the silence of the grave. _Corruptio +optimi est pessissima._ Biography, well done, is one of the most +instructive and interesting kinds of composition; ill done, it is about +the worst. We call it ill done, either when a good subject is marred in +the handling, or when the choice is an unworthy one. The number of men +whose lives are worthy to be recorded for an ensample to mankind is +really small. In saying so we are far from meaning to express a +contemptuous opinion of human nature. Some of the best men that ever +lived were those whose lives had fewest incidents, and offered the +scantiest materials for the ingenuity of the bookmaker. Happy, it is +said, is the nation whose annals are dull—happy also the man whose life +escapes the chronicler, who passes at the end of his day’s work into the +silent land, to enjoy “No biography, and the privilege of all the +weary.” + +A stupid biography of an interesting person is indeed a very lamentable +thing; and not only so, but a grave injustice alike to the dead and to +the living. Since the protest alluded to was uttered, there has been no +lack of this sad work. The most conspicuous recent examples that occur +to us are the Lives of Thomas Moore and of Lady Blessington. But though +the life of a man of genius, served up in the form of hodge-podge, is +rather a melancholy repast, there are biographic nuisances less +tolerable still. The features of a Jupiter or an Apollo may be hard to +recognise in the plaster of an incompetent dabbler; but if the model +were really a noble one, something of the god will break through to +edify the spectator. It is different, however, with the rude idol of the +savage. The biography of a respectable mediocrity is, it may be safely +said, among the least interesting or useful of literary performances. +Minerva Press novels are bad enough (those who think the species is +extinct are greatly mistaken); spasmodic poems are anything but +enlivening; and numismatic treatises are not ambrosial fare; but against +any of these we would back for true invincible unreadableness the Memoir +and Remains, we will suppose, of the Rev. Jabez Jones, D.D., late pastor +of Ramoth-Gilead Chapel, Battersea. We select our instance from the +class of religious biographies, because it is by far the most numerous, +and the most distinctly chargeable with the sin of bookmaking. Jabez, we +have no doubt, was in his day and generation an excellent man, though +given, as his Memoirs of course will amply testify, to unnecessary +groaning. But why his life should have been written, is a mystery to be +solved only by the astute publisher, who calculates on a sale of several +hundred copies among the bereaved congregation of Ramoth-Gilead. The +sorrowful biographer, whose name on the title-page plainly marks him as +an eligible candidate for the degree of D.D., will inform us in a +“sweet” preface that the materials of the present work were put into his +hands, &c.; that, painfully conscious of his own inability, he had long, +&c.; but that a perusal of the documents had so deeply impressed him +with the importance of giving the world, &c.; that such as it is, in +short, he commits it—and then is pretty certain to follow a piece of +nauseous blasphemy as to the nature of the patronage to which the pious +speculation is held entitled.[5] The number is perfectly sickening of +bereaved husbands, sons, and fathers, who practise this strange alchemy +on the penitential tears and devout breathings, the sick-bed utterances +and dying ejaculations of sainted wives, mothers, and babes. + +But bad as it is causelessly to exhume the poor victim of mortality in +order to make him sit for his likeness, the posthumous method of +biography is the natural and becoming one. Only when a man has finished +his work, and escaped beyond the reach of human passions and cares, is +it fitting to delineate his character and trace the story of his devious +path through life. The practice of biographising living men, however, +has now become very common. The publication of éloges used formerly to +be reserved as a posthumous honour, but this generation is wiser, and +writes the éloge while the subject of it can himself enjoy its perusal +in the land of the living and the place of hope. One would think it a +curious evidence of regard, independently of the question of delicacy, +to adopt so suggestive a method of reminding a man that he is due to +posterity. But tastes differ, and some men are not averse to the Charles +V. method of trying on their shrouds, to see, as the old woman said, +what “a bonnie corpse” they will make. With us in Britain this practice +of spiritual vivisection, or _ante-mortem_ inquests, has been confined +for the most part to short sketches, pretentiously critical in general, +and very seldom of any value. Fundamentally gossiping in its character, +this school of literary sketchers (what may be called the Biographical +Life Academy) has appealed mainly to the weak curiosity that hungers +after any small scraps of information regarding the private life and +habits of living notorieties. Such curiosity is no doubt extremely +natural, but the men who have undertaken the function of gratifying it, +have, as might be supposed, been distinguished by no qualities less than +by discernment and good taste, correctness of outline being with them a +small consideration compared to abundance and strength of colour. This +vulgar species of authorship, the servants’-hall gossip of the literary +family, has, we hope, seen its palmy days. + +On the other side of the Atlantic, however, the business seems to +flourish, like all other business, with great briskness. Our American +friends, excellent people as they are in so many respects, have long +been known to us as pre-eminent in the gossiping line; one of the chief +characteristics of the Anglo-American race being intense curiosity—an +admirable principle, as every one knows, when subordinate to a high end, +a decided weakness when not. To say that the American people universally +are influenced by the spirit of vulgar curiosity, would be as unjust as +it would be to charge the whole British nation with foulness of taste +because the _Mysteries of London_ has found myriads of readers. But that +the fashion has been exemplified very extensively by Americans of making +the public familiar with the insides of private drawing-rooms, and +telling the world how popular poets and historians handle a tea-pot or +blow their noses, is a fact not to be denied. Among a people +recognising, or professing to recognise, as the fundamental principle of +government and society, the Irishman’s profound axiom, that “one man is +as good as another—faith, and a great dale betther too!” it is not +indeed surprising that in the sphere of literature, as well as in +others, they should make more free with the characters and habits of +private life than is by us old-fashioned Britons considered tasteful and +becoming. Having now, however, passed their infancy, and in literature +as well as in social development “progressed” towards manhood, it is +high time that they should put away childish things. It has always +grieved us to see citizens of the great Republic betray so weak-minded a +delight in scrutinising the costume and domesticities of English +aristocrats, or the private life and fixings of American democrats. + +In the department of contemporary biography, it must be confessed our +energetic cousins have fairly got the start of us. It seems, in fact, to +have attained the rank of an “institution” among the other beautiful +machinery of their political life. When Jullien visits the provinces, he +heralds his coming by means of a set of fascinating portraits, which +announce from every print and music shop window that the great Conductor +is at hand. Somewhat similar, but more intellectual and elaborate, is +the proceeding of the American “coming man.” No aspiring senator now +thinks of trying for the Presidency without securing in good time the +services of a competent biographer to relate the heroic story of his +life, and make his transcendent merits known to all whom it may concern. +Even a meditative Hawthorne turns his vision-weaving pen to such +service, and considers it no way unworthy of his genius to polish off an +electioneering biography of General Franklin Pierce. So deeply do +politics mingle in the current of American life; so sweet to the +aspiring statesman are the uses of biography! + +But if the lives of politicians be written for the admiration of mankind +and the good of the State, should the lives of the mightier men who make +and unmake presidents and governments be esteemed less worthy of that +honour? Assuredly not. At it then, ye diligent Yankee scribes, and +hasten to convert into obsolete absurdity the oft-quoted line of the +dull old fellow who sang— + + “The world knows little of its greatest men.” + +Let it not henceforth be said, to the reproach of civilisation, that the +world was ignorant during their lives of the birth and genealogy, the +schoolboy adventures and manly freaks, the trials and the triumphs of +such men as Horace Greeley and James Gordon Bennett. Be careful to +inform us, ye veracious cinder-gatherers—for posterity will not pardon +the omission—the length, breadth, and weight of these remarkable +men,—their complete phrenological development (so far as the addition of +abnormal bumps by hostile shillelahs can permit accuracy),—the kind of +clothes they wear—the kind of pens they write with, whether quill, iron, +or brass—the ink they use, whether common blue-black or sometimes +black-and-blue, or perhaps a cunning distillation of ditch-water—the +attitude in which they sit when discharging their thunder at the heads +of kings and cabinets, or composing their delicate invectives at one +another;—in short, let us have perfect daguerreotypes of these supremely +interesting and estimable men. + +Behold! the thing is done, the good work has actually been commenced. +There, lying before us, in all the square-rigged ugliness of New York +upgetting, are the first-fruits of this new field of biographic +enterprise—the lives, in two stout volumes, of the “two noble kinsmen,” +the two great Arcadians whose names we have above mentioned. Many of our +readers, perhaps not grossly illiterate persons either, will look up and +ask, Who are Horace Greeley and James Gordon Bennett? While duly pitying +the limitation of culture implied in such a query, we cannot be too hard +on these poor ignoramuses, as we must plead guilty to having been +ourselves frequently staggered, in reading American books, by meeting +names associated with those of Milton and Aristides, as utterly new to +us as was, till recently, that of his Majesty Kamehameha III., Dei +gratiâ king of the Sandwich Islands. These two men, then, let all such +ignoramuses know, are the editors of two widely circulated New York +papers—the two most widely circulated, we believe, of any in America.[6] +What other claims they have to the honours of biography and the +remembrance of posterity, we shall consider by-and-by. Meantime we have +to say of the books that they are the most unique things in the way of +biography, or indeed of literature, that have come in our way since +America, about a year ago, furnished us with the autobiography of one of +her smartest citizens. They are of very different character—as different +as the men whose lives they profess to record—but in both the biographic +muse appears in a state of decided inebriety, highly unbecoming the +ancient dignity of her vocation. In the work of Mr Parton she is what is +called half-seas over, unsteadily hilarious, and amusingly absurd, +hiccuping out smart things now and then in a way that is irresistible, +then suddenly looking grave and uttering sublimities that are still more +outrageously laughable. In the anonymous companion-volume she is far +gone towards mortal insensibility; she might be said, in fact, to be in +_delirium tremens_, but that there is not a single flash of the wild +energy that diversifies the symptoms of that shocking malady. It is pure +dazed stupidity and double-vision from beginning to end. We have met +nothing comparable to it in all our experience of biographies. + +The sole ground on which these volumes claim any notice, contemptible as +they both are (though not in equal degree) in matter and treatment, is +that which gave some importance to the infamous revelations of Barnum. +They are in some degree typical; their subjects at least are so in a +very considerable degree—“representative men” of their kind, and so far +important. A newspaper editor is in all civilised countries an important +personage. We are not going here to enter on an elaborate consideration +of the functions and influence of the press—so let nobody dread a +homily. The subject has been often enough handled well and ill, and +lately we have heard a good deal about it. We are nowadays rather given +to flourishing about the “Fourth Estate.” There is a tendency towards +cant on this as on all other interesting subjects. The Fourth Estate is +a grand fact, but let those who have any pretensions to connection with +it rather strive to keep it so than talk magniloquently about it. As for +those who have not, let them take care that it does its duty, and does +not go beyond it. Newspaper editors, we say, are important personages; +but they are like other human beings, some of them eminent for intellect +and virtue, many of them highly respectable for both, others of them +dignified by neither. The anomalous and fluctuating conditions of +newspaper life make it inevitable that men should sometimes attain high +influence in virtue of connection with the press, whom neither nature +nor education has eminently qualified for the guidance of their +fellow-men. This applies, of course, peculiarly (though not exclusively) +to America, where, on the admirable Irishman’s maxim above quoted, +everybody is equally fit for everything—faith, and a great deal fitter +too! where toll-keepers and publicans are colonels in the army, and the +man who fails as a ratcatcher turns his hand to preaching, and, if that +fail also, straightway sets up a newspaper. But though applying +peculiarly to the American press, our statement is not exclusive of +Britain. Journalism is becoming, indeed, with us more and more of a +recognised profession—a profession, too, calling for special gifts and +training—gifts and training, higher and more liberal, to those who think +rightly of their vocation, than do any of the three hitherto exclusively +entitled “learned.” The press is no more with us, if ever it has been, a +kind of literary Diggings, where the outcasts and desperadoes, the halt, +the maimed, and the blind, of every other calling, may find a precarious +refuge and irregular adventurer-work, from forging of thunderbolts to +winnowing of ash-buckets. But it is true, nevertheless, that the +fundamental conditions of success in this career are compatible with a +moral and intellectual standard by no means exalted. It is a common +mistake, that high literary ability is the first requisite for editorial +success. The fact is nearly the other way. The first requisite is +knowledge of men, the second confidence, and the third perseverance. Let +a man possess the concentrated gifts of a whole academy of _belles +lettres_, and be deficient in shrewd practical discernment of what suits +the public, he may pipe ever so melodiously, but he will get few +subscribers to dance. Let him know, or imagine that he knows, ever so +well what suits the public, if he have not a quick eye to see what other +men are fit for, and how far they can be trusted to do his work, he may +shut his shop and retire. Let him possess encyclopædic knowledge, and +the readiest flow of winged words, but if he be not a man of +hard-working, dogged persistence, he might as well sow the great Sahara +as undertake to conduct a newspaper. A paper once fairly established +may, indeed, conduct itself successfully, despite an unpractical and +easy editor; for good machinery compels even inert matter into activity +and order. But to rear a paper into vigorous existence amid a host of +competitors—to make bricks without straw, and snatch the bread of +victory out of the jaws of famine—the editor or conductor must be, in +the first place, a man of business—it is of very subordinate importance +that he be a man of letters. Hence it is sometimes objected, that +newspapers, being in so many cases merely commercial speculations, must +necessarily subordinate principle to profit. The objection is neither +sound in logic, nor, in this country at least, true in fact. The +manufacturer of shawls and blankets is not the less an honest man and +estimable citizen because his primary object is not the good of the +community but his own private advantage. His shawls and blankets are not +the less excellent and indispensable because he converts them into pelf. +If the shawl-manufacturer indeed become a power in the State, and begin +to arrogate high virtue to himself for his services to the public, and +to dictate laws in virtue of the prosperity of his business, it is +reasonable that we should apply to him something analogous to the +question, “Doth Job fear God for nought?” Applying this test to the +press of our own country, we arrive, on the whole, at satisfactory +conclusions. If we do not see so much as we could wish of a grave sense +of responsibility, and a careful weighing of facts and motives, we know +how much is due to the terrible exigencies of time. This we are assured +of, that in no other profession or occupation is there more of manliness +and fair play; in none other is the professional honour so untarnished +by the contact of lucre; and, so far as chastity of sentiment and +expression is concerned, “the freest press in Europe (Mr Macaulay might +have said, in the world) is also the most prudish.” Occasional examples +of recklessness and violence, of meanness and bad taste, invalidate in +no wise the force of this general assertion. Newspaper editors and +writers are, we repeat, human like others. To expect that they should in +every case display faultless wisdom and virtue is a devout imagination, +but an extremely vain and irrational one. As to the paltry £. S. D. +considerations, we have, for our own part, often admired, as a striking +example of the innate virtue of human nature, despite its depravity, the +magnanimous zeal which sustains so many newspaper proprietors in the +task of instructing the public at a very swinging loss to themselves! + +The power of the press is greatly aided, as every one knows, by the +mystery which shrouds the writer, merging all personality of the +individual in the mysterious plurality of the organ through which he +speaks. It is not John or Thomas that proclaims the danger of the +nation, the incapacity of a Minister, the justice or injustice of a +deed. It is an unknown voice, uttered out of darkness, and therefore +formidable—the voice not of one, but of many, and therefore claiming +respect. The voice of a Greek tragedian sounded through his mask more +awful than it really was; and the majestic buskin raised a very ordinary +figure to the kingly height of Agamemnon. The “we” of John or Thomas, +through the speaking-trumpet of the _Times_, becomes a very different +pronoun from the “I” of these gentlemen uttered through their individual +windpipes. If any argument were necessary to prove that this formidable +anonymousness is not only essential to the liberty of the press, but the +true safeguard of its health and honesty, we might point for proof to +the Press of those States, whether despotic or free, where it is not +tolerated. In the United States, for example, there is almost as little +anonymous writing as in Paris or Vienna. There is no statute on the +subject, and no legal censorship exists, but the state of public feeling +makes it almost impossible for a man to conceal his personality. The +writer may not put his name to his articles, but if he does not, it is +only because he finds it unnecessary. Is the press there more honest, +more discreet, more tender of individual character than in Britain? No +candid American will answer that question with an affirmative. The press +of America is not the less formidable, not the more honest and +scrupulous, that its principal writers are known or notorious men. + +The character of the two nations is illustrated by some of their +distinctive peculiarities in this respect. With us the tendency is to +merge the individual in the body—with them the notion of liberty is +associated with the clear recognition of individual independence. Here +the newspaper editor is generally the invisible head of an +association—there he is a right-well-known entity of flesh and blood, as +cowhide and rattan applications have too often most strikingly +demonstrated. There the journal is generally his, and his name figures +conspicuously at the head of its columns—here he belongs more frequently +to the journal, and, while wielding a great power in the community, his +personal existence is a kind of myth, and his name may never have been +heard by the great majority of his readers. The American editor, on the +contrary, must make himself known, or he will not be listened to. All +pugnacious republicans must have the means of knowing who it is that +abuses them. The occupant of the White House must be made familiar with +the name of the man who attacks or defends his policy, whose mouth may +be silenced, or whose fidelity rewarded by a due share of the federal +dollars. Let it not be imagined that any uncomplimentary remarks we make +on the American press are intended to apply universally. So speaking, we +should convict ourselves at once of ignorance and dishonesty. There are +American newspapers and editors of high and unblemished character, as +there are American politicians worthy of a better fate than to be kept +waiting three months for the election of a Speaker. But of the American +press generally the criticism still holds good, that, while boasting to +be the freest in the world, it is in practical thraldom to an +inextricably tangled system of democratic terrorism. Improvement there +has been, we delight to think, within the last dozen years—so much so, +that even papers which were the very offscourings of journalism, have +become, in their European editions at least, fit for decent mortals to +read. Out of a total of nearly three thousand papers, circulating among +so mixed and changeful a population, it is little wonder, also, that +there should be a large class of papers at which a cultivated man of any +nation must look with contempt and sorrow. We know too well, from +examples in our own colonies—as in India and Australia—how, in +heterogeneous and young communities, where men of high talent and +education seldom resort except in the established paths to success, +newspapers are apt to fall into the hands either of government agents or +of reckless adventurers, with the natural result, in the one case, of +insolence and servility, in the other, of indecent violence and +gossiping personality. That, therefore, in a country like the United +States, where men of intelligence and enterprise are never at a loss for +profitable occupation, the press should be left in a great measure to +those who can get nothing better to do, need not surprise us; nor, as +the necessary result, that its moral and intellectual standard should +hitherto have been such as a civilised and educated nation would, if it +were not too busy, and too jealous of foreign criticism, have viewed +with consternation as a professed mirror of itself. + +While willingly granting thus much, the painful fact remains, that the +papers which have all along enjoyed the largest share of public +countenance in the United States, are those whose conductors have most +openly set at defiance every sentiment of justice, decency, and good +taste. The mere circulation of a journal is not, indeed, a conclusive +test of its importance as an organ of public opinion, but it clearly +enough points out what way the taste of the majority lies, and in a land +of universal suffrage it gauges exactly the amount of its political +influence. Our _Weekly Dispatch_ has perhaps twenty readers for the +_Spectator’s_ one, but the one reader probably has more power in the +commonwealth than the twenty. In a commonwealth, on the other hand, +where all men are equally good, a hundred thousand Barnums are as good +as a thousand centuries of Washington—faith, and in American politics, +“a great dale betther too!” Thus it is that the most widely circulated +paper becomes the greatest power in the State, and a power to which, +even while loathing it, presidents and politicians are forced to bow the +knee. Unwilling as we are that Mr James Gordon Bennett should lose any +of the benefit accruing to him from these remarks (which, of course, he +will turn duly to account),[7] we have no hesitation in saying that they +are intended to apply _par excellence_ to the organ which, under his +consummate management, has resolved one of the most singular problems of +modern times. That problem may be stated thus: Given the minimum of +literary ability, and the maximum of moral worthlessness—to educe out of +their combination a machinery which shall control the political action +of a Great Republic, and attain a leading place among the recognised +mouthpieces of twenty million English-speaking freemen. There is a +question of maxima and minima over which Dr Whewell might puzzle his +knowing head till doomsday, if he omitted to take into his calculations +an element or two of the plus description! What these elements are, we +must, however, leave for after consideration. In the mean time we +propose to treat our readers to a few of the biographic delicacies +furnished by the considerate Mr J. Parton. We consider his volume in +every way entitled to the precedence. It was the first published, and +evidently suggested the rival performance. It has all the marks of +honesty about it, and, compared with the Life of Bennett, is a perfect +_chef-d’œuvre_ of ability. Its subject, in like manner, if considerably +removed from our idea of a hero or a gentleman, is, compared with the +editor of the _New York Herald_, a very Bayard in chivalry, a Job in +uprightness. + +Mr Parton sets about his work in a very thorough-going manner. The +industry with which he has raked together all the information that could +possibly be gathered regarding not only Horace Greeley, but Horace’s +ancestors to the third and fourth generation, is quite inconceivable; +and his own ingenuous account of his preliminary labours is well +calculated to awaken, if not the admiration, at least the astonishment +of the reader. The style of procedure is exquisitely characteristic; +and, as he himself phrases it, “the reader has a right to know the +manner” thereof. Let us thank heaven that the promulgation of the recipe +is not likely here to instigate imitation. First of all, the ingenious +youth procures, “from various sources, a list of Mr Greeley’s early +friends, partners, and relations; also a list of the places at which he +had resided.” The young bloodhound! This done, “all those places I +visited; with as many of those persons as I could find I conversed, and +endeavoured to extract from them all that they knew of the early life of +my hero.” From these veracious sources this high-minded young scribbler +compiled the narrative of the great man’s early years, not disdaining +even to accost drunken “old soakers” on the highway who might “hiccough +out” a little tale about Greeley; and where he could not ferret out +information on the spot, applying for it _by letter_. But this was a +small portion of the self-imposed labour, which included a diligent +inspection of the complete files of the “_New Yorker_, _Log Cabin_, +_Jeffersonian_, _American Laborer_, _Whig Almanac_, and _Tribune_,” +nearly every number of which, “more than five thousand in all,” he +carefully examined. After such a course of reading, our wonder is, not +that the biographic muse is slightly maudlin, but that she survived to +put two sentences together! + +We are treated to a preliminary sketch of the history of Londonderry +(not omitting the siege), and the Scoto-Irish colony who thence +emigrated to New England. To the hasty reader all this may seem highly +unnecessary, but to those who are desirous deeply to penetrate into a +“nature” so uncommon as that of Horace Greeley, it is supremely +important, as we are told that “from his maternal ancestors he derived +much that distinguishes him from men in general.” Another chapter is +devoted to the paternal ancestors, regarding one of whom it is +interesting to learn that he was a “cross old dog,” “as cunning as +Lucifer,” and that he died at the age of sixty-five, with “all his teeth +sound!” At length, at page 33, we come to the great fact of Horace’s +birth. As has been the case with many great men, it was attended with +some remarkable circumstances. To these our biographer does full +justice. His account of the interesting scene is too fine to be +omitted:— + + “The mode of his entrance upon the stage of the world was, to say the + least of it, unusual. The effort was almost too much for him, and, to + use the language of one who was present, ‘he came into the world as + black as a chimney.’ There was no sign of life. He uttered no cry; he + made no motion; he did not breathe. But the little discolored stranger + had articles to write, and was not permitted to escape his destiny. In + this alarming crisis of his existence, a kind-hearted and experienced + aunt came to his rescue, and by arts, which to kind-hearted and + experienced aunts are well known, but of which the present chronicler + remains in ignorance, the boy was brought to life. He soon began to + breathe; then he began to blush; and by the time he had attained the + age of twenty minutes, lay on his mother’s arm, a red and smiling + infant.” + +If the reader does not grant that to be one of the most graceful +climaxes in biographic literature, we shall not write another word. +Presuming on a general unanimity on this point, we proceed. The red and +smiling infant in due time of course turned out a prodigy; “he took to +learning with the promptitude and instinctive irrepressible love with +which a duck is said to take to the water,” and was able to read “before +he had learned to talk.” In spelling he soon became pre-eminent; and +great marvels are recorded of his orthographic prowess. Unfortunately he +was less distinguished by those virtues which we usually desiderate in +boys. Though never afraid of ghosts, or overawed by superiority of rank +or knowledge, he was eminently deficient in physical courage. “When +attacked, he would neither fight nor run away, but ‘stand still and take +it;’” the report of a gun “would almost throw him into convulsions.” +Fishing and bee-hunting were the only sports he cared for, “but his love +of fishing did not originate in what the Germans call the ‘sport +impulse.’ Other boys fished for sport; Horace fished for _fish_.” +Bee-hunting, again, “was profitable sport, and Horace liked it +amazingly. His share of honey generally found its way to the store.” His +passion for books was generally attributed to indolence, and it was +often predicted that Horace would never “get on.” Superficial idea! Even +in very early life, says Mr Parton complacently, he gave proof “that the +Yankee element was strong within him. In the first place, he was always +_doing_ something; and in the second, he had always something to +_sell_.” + +Notwithstanding Horace’s remarkable cleverness, we are told that he was +sometimes taken for an idiot—a stranger having once inquired, on his +entering a “store” in a brown study, “what darn fool is that?” Even his +own father declared that the boy would “never know more than enough to +come in when it rains.” These pleasing anecdotes are given on the +authority of a bibulous old wretch, whom the indefatigable Mr Parton +encountered and cross-questioned on the highway. He was quite drunk at +the time, but “as the tribute of a sot to the champion of the Maine Law, +the old man’s harangue was highly interesting.” Mr Parton sets it down +to the praise of his hero, that though brought up in the bosom of New +England orthodoxy, “from the age of twelve he began to doubt,” and “from +the age of fourteen he was known, wherever he lived, as the champion of +Universalism.” Here the biographer indulges in what he considers +appropriate reflections, and points out to his readers the valuable +effects of youthful infidelity. “The boy,” he coolly observes, “seems to +have shed his orthodoxy easily.”[8] Horace Greeley was in a fair way of +training for his editorship. + +The juvenile Universalist had long been ambitious of becoming a printer, +and at last obtained a vacant apprenticeship in the office of Mr Amos +Bliss, proprietor of the _Northern Spectator_. The great event is +described with elaborate circumstantiality. The young “tow-head” proved +a first-rate workman, and presently tried his hand at composition. “The +injurious practice of writing ‘compositions,’” says his biographer, “was +not among the exercises of any of the schools which he had attended.” +Considering the general literary character of editorial writing in the +United States, we are not surprised to find an American pronounce the +early practice of composition _injurious_; the sentiment evidently is +not peculiar to Mr Parton. Early attention to style might of course tend +to weaken that native force in the use of epithets which apparently +conduces so much to editorial success. Horace also joined a debating +society, where he proved himself a perfect “giant.” His manners were +entirely free from aristocratic taint, or any weak tendency to +politeness. “He stood on no ceremony at the table; he _fell to_ without +waiting to be asked or helped, devoured everything right and left, +stopped as suddenly as he had begun, and vanished instantly.” Again, +“when any topic of interest was started at the table, he joined in it +with the utmost confidence, and maintained his opinion against anybody.” +He never went to tea-parties, never joined in an excursion, and “seldom +went to church.” A most interesting young man, on the whole, was Horace +Greeley. + +At length the _Northern Spectator_ broke down, and the apprentice was +left to shift for himself. His departure is described in quite a choice +Minerva-Press style. “It was a fine cool breezy morning in the month of +June 1830; Nature had assumed those robes of brilliant green which she +wears only in June, and welcomed the wanderer forth with that heavenly +smile which plays upon her changeful countenance _only when she is +attired in her best_. Deceptive smile!” &c. &c. Horace at length +determined to try his fortune in New York, and with ten dollars in his +pocket, a shabby suit on his back, and a small bundle on his stick, +landed “at sunrise, on Friday the 18th of August 1831,” near the +Battery. The biographer, as in duty bound, comes out strong, and +Benjamin Franklin, with his penny roll, appears in the proper place to +garnish the story. “The princes of the mind,” says he, waxing sublime, +“always remain incog. till they come to the throne.” Poor Horace’s +appearance “was all against him.” Certainly, if the vignette +representation of the youth with which Mr Parton has adorned his volume +conveys any adequate idea of his aspect that morning, the statement is +emphatically true. The prince of the mind was incog. with a vengeance—a +more calculating and skinny-looking young Yankee it would be difficult +to imagine. To the portrait on the opposite page, of the adult Horace in +his white greatcoat—bought from an Irish emigrant!—we must, however, +give the palm as a thoroughly characteristic representation of a +full-blown Yankee Wilkes-Bentham Socialist, Maine Law champion, +Vegetarian, Spirit-rappist, and we don’t know what else. The following +bit of information is important:— + + “The gentleman to whose intercession Horace Greeley owed his first + employment in New York, is now known to all the dentists in the Union + as the leading member of a firm which manufactures annually twelve + thousand artificial teeth. He has made a fortune, the reader will be + glad to learn, and lives in a mansion up town.” + +To the event which gave Horace his “First Lift” in the world, the +biographer devotes a whole chapter. That event was the establishment of +the first Penny Paper. The idea originated in the head of an unfortunate +medical student afflicted by Providence with ready cash to the amount of +fifteen hundred dollars. Horatio David Sheppard, unwisely neglecting his +pestle and scalpel, took to dabbling in newspapers and magazines, and in +due time found himself _minus_ his dollars. Speculatively musing as he +passed through Chatham Street, a great mart of penny wares, he was +struck with the rapid sales effected by the energetic stall-keepers and +itinerant venders of shoe-laces. Parting with an odd cent or penny +seemed so natural and easy a proceeding that the offer of any article +for that sum seemed irresistible. Might not a newspaper be produced at +one cent with certain success? The idea, it must be admitted, was a +happy one. As might have been expected, however, the proposal at first +excited unbounded ridicule, and for eighteen months Dr Sheppard could +not get “one man” to believe in its feasibility. At last, on New Year’s +Day, 1833, appeared the _Morning Post_, published by “Greeley and +Story,” price two cents. It lived only twenty-one days, dying from pure +want of funds. The idea was soon after successfully realised by other +speculators, and in a few years the penny press was able to take society +by the throat. Its first reception is thus described:— + + “When the respectable New Yorker first saw a penny paper, he gazed at + it (I saw him) with a feeling similar to that with which an + ill-natured man may be supposed to regard General Tom Thumb, a feeling + of mingled curiosity and contempt; he put the ridiculous little thing + into his waistcoat pocket to carry home for the amusement of his + family; and he wondered what nonsense would be perpetrated _next_.” + +If such was the reception of the cheap press among the go-ahead New +Yorkers, it need not surprise us that in our own steady-going community +it should have been still less favourable. The experience of the last +few months, however, has pretty well demonstrated the absurdity of the +principal objections. The anticipated peril to the health of society +has, as every believer in the national good sense well knew, proved a +chimera. British intellect and morals fortunately are not dependent on +taxes and high price; and the gradual removal of all restrictions on the +freedom of the press has only shown more signally that this people needs +no legal bridling to keep on the path of decency and order. The number +of cheap papers has indeed proved much smaller than was anticipated, few +people seeming to have been aware how much energy and capital are +required for the establishment of a paying penny paper—a fact which was +alone sufficient to answer the fears of those who looked in June 1855 +for the coming of the Deluge. In New York the case unfortunately was far +otherwise. The Father of the American Penny Press, if to any one man +that title is due, must be regarded as having treated his country in a +way the reverse of what St Patrick did for Ireland—as a male Pandora, in +fact, who opened the lid that shut in a countless brood of very hideous +creatures. The thing will end well, we hope, as we hope for a +millennium; and improvement, as we have admitted, there already is. But +that the birth of the cheap press in America was followed by a deluge of +quackery, virulence, and indecency which has not yet entirely subsided, +is a fact written in disgraceful characters on pages innumerable, and +legible on the skins of men now living, had they not been tougher than +bison’s hide. That such should have been the result of cheapening the +favourite stimulant of the American rabble was perfectly inevitable, and +that the new development of journalism was accompanied by marked +features of superiority is undeniable. The increase of violence and +slander was itself a point of superiority in the eyes of the vulgar +herd,—for coarseness passed for strength, and scurrility for smartness, +the American’s “darling attribute.” But, among a people of intense +activity and inquisitiveness, the increased energy in the procuring of +news (whether true or false) must be looked upon as the chief cause of +the immense popularity attained in so few years by the principal +American journals. To this source, rather than to any general +predilection for the vile and malicious, would we seek to attribute the +extraordinary success of papers in which libel and indecency constituted +a regular stock in trade. This is certainly no excuse for the patronage +so bestowed, but it at least helps to explain it in a way not utterly +destructive of our respect for a whole community. + +And now, to return to our Horace. Of his dignified manners towards his +workmen the following may suffice as an example. It is interesting, +moreover, as showing that the extraordinary voracity of his early years +had given place to utter indifference to considerations so low as the +eating of dinner:— + + “There was not even the show or pretence of discipline in the office. + One of the journeymen made an outrageous caricature of his employer, + and showed it to him one day as he came from dinner. ‘Who’s that?’ + asked the man. ‘That’s me,’ said the master, with a smile, and passed + into his work: The men made a point of appearing to differ in opinion + from him on every subject, because they liked to hear him talk; and, + one day, after a long debate, he exclaimed, ‘Why, men, if I were to + say that that black man there was black, you’d all swear he was + white.’ He worked with all his former intensity and absorption. Often + such conversations as these took place in the office about the middle + of the day:— + + “(H. G., looking up from his work)—Jonas, have I been to dinner? + + “(Mr Winchester)—You ought to know best. I don’t know. + + “(H. G.)—John, have I been to dinner? + + “(John)—I believe not. Has he, Tom? + + “To which Tom would reply ‘no,’ or ‘yes,’ according to his own + recollection or John’s wink; and if the office generally concurred in + Tom’s decision, Horace would either go to dinner or resume his work, + in unsuspecting accordance therewith.” + +With that interesting proneness to heresy of all kinds which +distinguishes Mr Greeley, he soon after adopted the semi-vegetarian +principles of a certain Rev. Dr Graham, who, says the biographer, “was a +_discoverer_ of the facts, that most of us are sick, and that none of us +need be; that disease is impious and _disgraceful_, the result in almost +every instance of folly or crime.” The italics are Mr Parton’s, whose +digestion, it is to be hoped, is unexceptionable. + +At length, early in 1834, Horace, with two partners, started the _New +Yorker_, a weekly paper, “incomparably the best of its kind that had +ever been published in this country;” so good, in fact, that after seven +years of hard struggle it gave up the ghost. We would rather believe +that its want of success was due to the incompetency of its management; +but if the editor was in the habit of uttering such unpalatable truths +as is contained in the following specimen, we are afraid it must be +conceded with the biographer that the _New Yorker_ was not half enough +spicy, or fawning:— + + “The great pervading evil of our social condition is the worship and + the bigotry of Opinion. While the theory of our political institutions + asserts or implies the absolute freedom of the human mind—the right + not only of free thought and discussion, but of the most unrestrained + action thereon within the wide boundaries prescribed by the laws of + the land, yet the _practical commentary_ upon this noble text is as + discordant as imagination can conceive. Beneath the thin veil of a + democracy more free than that of Athens in her glory, we cloak a + despotism more pernicious and revolting than that of Turkey or China. + It is the despotism of Opinion.” + +The _New Yorker_ having never, during its whole term of existence, +reached the paying point, the poor editor was obliged to keep the pot +boiling by other means. In 1838 he undertook the sole charge of the +_Jeffersonian_, a paper of a class peculiar to America, and denominated +“Campaign Papers.” The noble purpose of the _Jeffersonian_ is thus +described by Greeley himself: “It was established on the impulse of the +Whig tornado of 1837, to secure a like result in 1838, so as to give the +Whig party a Governor, Lieutenant-governor, Senate, Assembly, United +States Senator, Congressmen, and all the vast executive patronage of the +State, then amounting to millions of dollars a year.” + +The _Jeffersonian_ existed only one year, having served its end. The +labours of the editor were enormous; “no one but a Greeley” could have +endured it all. In 1840 he started another “Campaign Paper,” in the +interest of General Harrison. The absorption of the editorial mind +during this exciting season is illustrated by another of those graceful +anecdotes, in which our biographer delights—relating how Mr Greeley +arrives late at a political tea-party (Sunday evening), and straightway +plunges into a conversation on the currency; how the worthy landlady +asks him in vain to take tea; how she begs him to “try a cruller +anyhow,” and is rudely repulsed; how she places a large basket of these +unknown delicacies on his knees, and he mechanically devours every +morsel; how, fearing the consequences, she substitutes for the “cruller” +basket a great heap of cheese; how the remarkable boa-constrictor +gobbles it all up; and how, finally, he was _none the worse_ of it all. +“Anecdotes,” says Mr P., are “precious for biographical purposes.” + +The _Log Cabin_ had a circulation of from 80,000 to 90,000, and yet such +was the easy virtue of the subscribers that the proprietor made nothing +by it, and the last number contained a moving appeal “to the friends who +owe us.” Such, also, is political gratitude, that Mr Greeley did not +even receive the offer of an office in acknowledgment of his valuable +services, at which his biographer is duly disgusted. He adds the +following significant anecdote:— + + “Mr Fry (W. H.) made a speech one evening at a political meeting in + Philadelphia. The next morning a committee waited upon him to know for + what office he intended to become an applicant. ‘Office?’ said the + astonished composer—no office.’ ‘Why, then,’ said the committee, + ‘_what the h—ll did you speak last night for_?’ Mr Greeley had not + even the honour of a visit from a committee of this kind.” + +Mr Greeley at length ventured on the bold experiment of starting a new +daily paper. There were already eleven in New York; but a cheap Whig +paper[9] was wanted, and accordingly, on the 10th April 1841, appeared +the _New York Tribune_, price one cent. It began with only six hundred +subscribers, and encountered much opposition, but was “from its +inception very successful.” The _Tribune_, says Mr Parton, was “a live +paper,” and it prospered by opposition. “FIGHT was the word with it from +the start—FIGHT has been the word ever since—FIGHT is the word this +day.” One thing was wanting to success—an efficient business-partner. +Such a man was found in the person of Mr Thomas M‘Elrath. The biographer +shouts and rubs his hands with ecstasy at such a combination of +excellence as was now realised. Hear him: + + “Roll Horace Greeley and Thomas M‘Elrath into one, and the result + would be, a very respectable approximation to a Perfect Man. The Two, + united in partnership, have been able to produce a very respectable + approximation to a perfect newspaper. As Damon and Pythias are the + types of perfect friendship, so may Greeley and M‘Elrath be of a + perfect partnership; and one may say, with a sigh at the many + discordant unions the world presents, Oh! that every Greeley could + find his M‘Elrath! and blessed is the M‘Elrath that finds his + Greeley!” + +And woe to the Greeley that finds his Parton! + +For a complete history of this respectable approximation to perfection, +says Mr Parton, “ten octavo volumes would be required, and most +interesting volumes they would be.” Mr Parton gives us instead the small +dose of “over” 200 octavo pages, and we are bound to say that it is at +least 190 too many. In these weary sheets the curious will find a full +account of Mr Greeley’s exertions in defence of Fourierism, Whiggism, +Teetotalism, Anti-Slavery, Woman’s Rights, and Irish Rebellion, his +libels on Fenimore Cooper, his motions in Congress, his lectures, his +European travels, his personal appearance, his private habits, &c. &c. + +“For Irish Repeal,” among other good causes, the _Tribune_ “fought like +a tiger,” the magnanimous editor accepting a place in the Directory of +the Friends of Ireland, “to the funds of which he contributed +liberally.” Mr Greeley is not a warlike man, as his boyish experiences +have indicated, but incendiarism and bloodshed in British territory are +things for which he willingly sacrifices a few dollars. Our readers are +aware that the publication of the wildest fictions, pleasantly +denominated “hoaxes,” constitutes an attractive element in American +journalism. In August 1848, New York red-republicanism was “on the +tiptoe of expectation for important news of the Irish rebellion.” The +fortunate _Tribune_ obtained exclusive intelligence, and hastened to +publish, “with due glorification,” a flaming account of the great battle +of Slievenamon (afterwards known as “Slievegammon,”) in which 6000 +British troops were killed and wounded. “For a day or two the Irish and +the friends of Ireland exulted; but when the truth became known, their +note was sadly changed.” The editor, we learn, was absent at the time, +but there is no doubt he would have exulted as much as any man to hear +of the “stench” of a three-mile shambles of British soldiers. His tone +on the subject of the Russian war has betrayed no weak sympathy with the +Western combatants; and doubtless he takes a brotherly interest in the +insane and detestable conspiracies now or lately hatching among the +unhappy exiles of Erin. + +In November of that year, Mr Greeley was elected to a seat in Congress, +by a machinery the corruption of which is testified by no less a person +than himself. He was very active as a member, and soon made himself +prominently obnoxious by exposing various legislative jobs. Some of the +lively scenes that occurred are described at immense length. Mr Parton +draws no flattering conclusion from the reception of his hero in the +House of Representatives. Let our American friends console themselves +with the assurance that his testimony is not decisive. + + “An honest man in the House of Representatives of the United States + seemed to be a foreign element, a fly in its cup, an ingredient that + would not mix, a novelty that disturbed its peace. It struggled hard + to find a pretext for the expulsion of the offensive person; but not + finding one, the next best thing was to endeavour to show the country + that Horace Greeley was, after all, no better than members of Congress + generally.” + +In 1849, the _Tribune_, with its habitual predilection for the fanatical +and revolutionary, or, as Mr Parton loftily phrases the thing, “true to +its instinct of giving hospitality to every new or revived idea,” +devoted large space to the promulgation of Proudhon’s delightful ideas +on the subject of Property. Among other things also, says our +chronicler, it began a rejoinder to the _Evening Post_ in the following +spirited manner,—the only specimen we choose to quote of Mr Greeley’s +vituperative abilities:— + +“You lie, villain! wilfully, wickedly, basely lie!” + +This observation, placidly remarks the historian, “called forth much +remark at the time.” The person to whom it was addressed was WILLIAM +CULLEN BRYANT. With the same instinctive hospitality towards every form +of delusion, the _Tribune_ opened its accommodating columns to the +Spirit-Rappers, who, notwithstanding a few hundred cases of insanity and +other small evils, have, in Mr Parton’s opinion, done much good. About +the same time it took up the Woman’s Rights humbug, acknowledging that +the ladies are perhaps unwise in making the demand, but maintaining that +no sincere republican can give any adequate reason for refusing them “an +equal participation with men in political rights.” A whole chapter is +devoted to Mr Greeley’s platform exhibitions, which it seems are very +frequent and edifying—Horace having, as Mr Parton tells us, a benevolent +appreciation of the delight it gives “to _see_ the man whose writings +have charmed and moved and formed us.” Not only does he lecture as often +as possible, but + + “At public meetings and public dinners Mr Greeley is a frequent + speaker. His name usually comes at the end of the report, introduced + with ‘Horace Greeley being loudly called for, made a few remarks to + the following purport.’ The call is never declined; nor does he ever + speak without saying something; and when he has said it, he resumes + his seat.” + +The remarkable man! + +In 1851, Horace went to see the World’s Fair in Hyde Park. No foolish +curiosity or sentimentality instigated the philosophic editor; his main +object, as announced (the American editor keeps his readers regularly +informed on all his movements) in the _Tribune_, being to inspect “_the +improvements recently made, or now being made, in the modes of dressing +flax and hemp_, and preparing them to be spun and woven by steam or +water power.” + +The departure and passage are carefully described; Mr Parton having +apparently paid a steward to note, watch in hand, all the phenomena of +Horace’s sea-sickness. Nothing that he saw in this effete country seems +to have in the least impressed his great mind. The royal procession +would have faded before “a parade of the New York Firemen or Odd +Fellows.” The Queen he patronisingly noticed, and was even “glad to +see,” though “he could not but feel that her _vocation_ was behind the +intelligence of the age, and likely to go out of fashion at no distant +day;” but not, poor thing! “through _her_ fault.” The posts of honour +nearest her person should have been confided, he thought, to “the +descendants of Watt and Arkwright;” the foreign ambassadors should have +been “the sons of Fitch, Fulton, Whitney, Daguerre, and Morse,” &c. &c. +Hampton Court he thought “larger than the Astor House, but less lofty, +and containing fewer rooms.” Westminster Abbey was “a mere barbaric +profusion of lofty ceilings, stained windows, carving, graining, and all +manner of contrivances for absorbing labour and money;” less adapted for +public worship “than a fifty thousand dollar church in New York.” He +gives credit to the English for many good qualities, but thinks them “a +most _un-ideal_ people,”—he, the romantic Greeley! “He liked the amiable +women of England, so excellent at the fireside, so tame in the +drawing-room; but he doubts whether they could so much as _comprehend_ +the ideas which underlie the woman’s rights movement.” (The amiable +women of England may well console themselves under a doubt so +complimentary to their common sense.) In Paris the great man was +apparently in better humour, devoting two days to the Louvre—a wonderful +fact. His great political sagacity shines forth in his estimate of +French affairs in June 1851. France he found as “tranquil and prosperous +as England herself;” as for fear from Louis Napoleon, he “marvels at the +_obliquity of vision_ whereby any one is enabled, standing in this +metropolis, to anticipate the subversion of the Republic.” In Italy his +first remark was, that he had never seen a region so much in want of “_a +few subsoil ploughs_.” Edinburgh, it seems, was honoured, before his +return to New York, by a visit from this great unknown; and we are proud +to learn that it “surpassed his expectations.” + +“In the composition of this work,” says our judicious biographer, “I +have, as a rule, abstained from the impertinence of panegyric.” When, +therefore, he tells us that the rolling together of Greeley and +M‘Elrath, after the manner of a dumpling, would result in something like +perfection; that Greeley is “too much in earnest to be a perfect +editor;” that “he is a BORN LEGISLATOR,” and “could save a nation, but +never learn to tie a cravat;” that he is “New York’s most distinguished +citizen, the Country’s most influential man,” and editor of the best +paper in existence; that, in short, he is “the Franklin of this +generation—Franklin liberalised and enlightened,”—we are to take these +statements as the sober expression of bare hard fact; and the reader is +left to conclude from them how much might have been said by a more +partial and weak-minded biographer—his imagination is left to fill up +the outline of a Greeley’s perfections! + +But does the reader wish to see the man himself—to know his height and +weight, not metaphorically, but actually, in British feet and inches, +and in pounds avoirdupois? So pleasant and laudable a desire the amiable +Parton is far from disappointing; for does not the great man say that +“there’s no use in any man’s writing a biography unless he can tell what +no one else can tell.” Here, then, reader, you have it, what no one else +assuredly could, would, or should dream of telling you but the +inimitable, the unapproachable Parton:— + + “Horace Greeley stands five feet ten and a half inches, in his + stockings. He weighs one hundred and forty-five pounds. Since his + return from Europe in 1851, he has increased in weight, and promises + to attain, in due time, something of the dignity which belongs to + amplitude of person. He stoops considerably, not from age, but from a + constitutional pliancy of the back-bone, aided by his early habit of + incessant reading. In walking, he swings or sways from side to side. + Seen from behind, he looks, as he walks with head depressed, bended + back, and swaying gait, like an old man; an illusion which is + heightened if a stray lock of white hair escapes from under his hat. + But the expression of his face is singularly and engagingly youthful. + His complexion is extremely fair, and a smile plays ever upon his + countenance. His head, measured round the organs of Individuality and + Philoprogenitiveness, is twenty-three and a half inches in + circumference, which is considerably larger than the average. His + forehead is round and full, and rises into a high and ample dome. The + hair is white, inclining to red at the ends, and thinly scattered over + the head. Seated in company, with his hat off, he looks not unlike the + ‘Philosopher’ he is often called; no one could take him for a common + man.” + +Now, then, reader, if you do not give us credit for introducing you to +the acme of modern biography, we pronounce you the most ungrateful and +least discriminating of human beings. “If Horace Greeley were a flower,” +says J. P., “botanists would call him single, and examine him with +interest.” “He is what the Germans sometimes style ‘a nature.’” And if +J. P. also were a flower, botanists would inevitably pronounce him “a +tulip.” He is what in Scotland we sometimes call “a natural”—otherwise +known as “a halfling;” or, in vernacular English, a born fool. Horace +Greeley is not, to our mind, a person very agreeable or very venerable; +but intensely as we dislike his bad qualities, and those of his paper +(in some respects a good one—very attentive, in its own peculiar way, to +literature, and excellently printed[10]), his dreary fanaticism and +vulgarity, his bigoted Yankeeism, his strong anti-British feeling—much +as we dislike all this, we do not like to see him made absolutely +ridiculous, had he no other good quality than the pleasure he takes in +farming. We are not surprised, however, to learn that he has few +friends, “and no cronies.” His biographer, at least, is not among the +former; for any man would accept his chance against a Kentucky rifle +sooner than a biography at the hands of Mr J. Parton. There is this +comfort, at least, that Horace Greeley “has no pleasures, so called, and +suffers little pain,” otherwise, we imagine, the admiring scribbler +would not, with such inconceivable indelicacy, have opened the doors of +his closet, and exhibited him _in puris naturalibus_ to the gaze of the +world. + +Turn we now to the veracious record of the Life and Adventures of the +Jack Ketch of editors, the redoubtable and happily unparalleled James +Gordon Bennett, with whom, for several reasons, we must be brief. The +author has of course sought no counsel from “Mr Bennett, nor any one +connected with him.” The work is a pure labour of love, “a spontaneous +act of literary justice” to the character of a noble and much maligned +man. The former statement we perfectly believe, as we imagine the +consultation would naturally proceed _from_ and not _to_ the subject of +the memoir. As to the spontaneity, there can be little doubt that the +work was prompted by the dumpy and infatuated volume of which we have +attempted faintly to shadow forth the beauties,—as to “justice,” no man +is more dreadfully in earnest for justice than when he defends himself. +The motto prefixed from Dr Johnson is admirable: “_History, which draws +a portrait of living manners, may perhaps be made of greater use than +the solemnities of professed morality, and convey the knowledge of vice +and virtue with more efficacy than axioms and definitions._” Which being +applied to the present case, may be interpreted to signify that the life +of a notorious blackguard is more eloquent than a sermon of Dr Blair, +and conveys the knowledge of virtue, through the exhibition of its +contrary, with more impressiveness than all the proverbs of Solomon! In +this sense the Life of Mr James Gordon Bennett might, in faithful and +competent hands, do as much good as the _Newgate Calendar_, or Defoe’s +Autobiography of an Unfortunate Female,—it might carry along with it, as +this preface says, “not a few valuable lessons.” Unhappily, however, the +genius of this biographer is utterly unequal to the subject, and instead +of a lifelike and instructive portraiture, he has produced a senseless +and incredible daub. More speaking by far is the portrait which fronts +the title-page. It represents in sharp outline the face of a +hard-headed, heavy-browed, obstinate man; vulpine sagacity in the +wrinkles of the mouth and the corners of the eyes; long upper-lip and +heavy under-jaw, and bold vulturine nose seeming to scent carrion from +afar. The eyes are upturned in sculptured lifelessness—in artistic +justice, we presume, to that unfortunate ophthalmic defect known as a +diabolical squint. The portrait, we say, is better than the book, and +tells, though probably a flattering likeness, a clearer and more honest +story. + +“Is it not,” inquired Mr Dickens in New York, “a very disgraceful +circumstance that such a man as So-and-so should be acquiring a large +property by the most infamous and odious means, and, notwithstanding all +the crimes of which he has been guilty, should be tolerated and abetted +by your citizens? He is a public nuisance, is he not?—Yes, sir. A +convicted liar?—Yes, sir. He has been kicked, and cuffed, and +caned?—Yes, sir. And he is utterly dishonourable, debased, and +profligate?—Yes, sir. In the name of wonder, then, what is his +merit?—_Well, sir, he is a smart man!_” Such is the satisfactory +solution of the problem to which we have already alluded, the solution +of the Barnum phenomenon, and with it of all analogous phenomena. +Similar is the testimony of the smart young man whom we have just parted +with. “Every race,” he says, “has its own ideas respecting what is best +in the character of a man.... When a Yankee would bestow his most +special commendation upon another, he says, ‘That is a man, sir, who +generally _succeeds_ in what he undertakes.’” Let no delicate and +high-minded person, therefore, be astonished that such a man as James +Gordon Bennett, whom the respectability of New York has for twenty years +loathingly patronised, should have attained a commanding position among +the spiritual powers of the American Republic. He is a man of undeniable +“smartness”—not in our sense, indeed, for we have never seen a line of +his composition that exhibited anything above what could be called +third-rate mediocrity of thought and style, but in the sense of keen +appreciation of means and ends, audacious scheming, impenetrability to +shame, and invincible endurance of chastisement. His inflictions in this +respect, both moral and physical, he has uniformly turned to the best +account: in a sense different from that of the Psalmist, he can say that +it was good for him to be afflicted. No man probably ever made more +dollars by the proclamation of his own disgrace. A mere catalogue of the +horse-whippings he has undergone during his long career of inglory, +would astonish the nerves of our readers.[11] Each new infliction has +been prominently blazoned in the columns of the _Herald_, and the +attractive words “COW-HIDED AGAIN!!!” have been duly followed by a rush +of buyers and a cheering flow of cents into the pockets of the +complacent victim! On this subject his own testimony and that of his +biographer are singularly frank and decided:— + + “Since I knew myself, all the real approbation I sought for was my + own. If my conscience was satisfied on the score of morals, and my + ambition on the matter of talent, I always felt easy. On this + principle I have acted from my youth up, and on this principle I mean + to die. Nothing can disturb my equanimity. I know myself—so does the + Almighty. Is not that enough?” + +“This,” says the biographer, “_is not the language and spirit of a +common mind_. It is the essence of a philosophy which has not deserted a +man who has never failed to republish every slander against himself, and +who has been conscious always that calumnies cannot outlive and +overshadow truth.” + +A man whose conscience seems never to have given him much trouble, and +whose ambition has been satisfied with the acquisition of wealth and +political power, may well feel easy under the whips and scorns of a +whole universe! This is assuredly, and we rejoice to think so, not the +language and spirit of the majority of mankind. Those only despise the +approbation of their fellows who have shaken off the attributes of +humanity, and accept the reverse of the proverb, that “a good name is +rather to be chosen than great riches.” The impious allusion to the +Almighty is worthy of a Couthon or a Marat.[12] + +The success of such a journal as the _New York Herald_ is an undeniable +blot on the community on whose follies and vices it battened into +prosperity. The damning fact cannot be denied, that it was not in spite +but _on account_ of their scandalous character that such journals first +attracted public attention and secured a hearing. While, therefore, we +diminish not a jot our abhorrence of the men who reared these monuments +of their own infamy, we are bound to regard them as but the concentrated +type of the character that pervaded their constituency. If the _New York +Herald_ was unprincipled and obscene, the readers of the _New York +Herald_ must have shared in these qualities. Its conductor may have been +a scoundrel, but he certainly was no fool; he fed his readers with such +food as suited their taste. Had that taste been purer, he was knowing +enough to have provided cleaner fare: in a grave and religious community +he would probably have preached with unctuous decorum. Already the taste +of that community has improved (no thanks, assuredly, to him); the +deluge of vituperation and indecency has subsided, and the _New York +Herald_ has followed the temper of the time. It may not, as the helpless +biographer tells us it is, be “a familiar journal at every court +throughout the world, and in all intelligent communities,” but, compared +with its former self, it is positively respectable. + +Granting, therefore, that James Gordon Bennett was as disreputable an +editor as Dr Faust’s great patron ever let loose upon mankind, it is +both philosophically and historically just that we should regard him, as +Germans would say, not as an isolated phenomenon, but as a +highly-remarkable-and-in-itself-much-embracing-development of social +existence. The half-apologetic statements on this subject by the +biographer, who is in general so preposterous in his partiality and +admiration as to be utterly beyond criticism, are among the most curious +things in the book. After describing the state of society and of +journalism previous to 1833, he says:— + + “A more fortunate position of circumstances cannot be imagined than + that which presented itself for Mr Bennett’s talents at this period. + He had been moulded by events and experience to take a part in the + change which the Press was about to undergo.... + + “Mr Bennett was prepared in every way for the occasion. He had been + just so far injured as to urge him to take hold of the world with but + little mercy for its foibles, and with so little regard to its + opinions that he could distinguish himself by an original course in + Journalism. He felt as Byron did after the Scotch Reviewers had + embittered his soul by their harsh treatment of his ‘Hours of + Idleness.’ This was a mood highly favourable to the production of a + rare effect. The dormant spirit of the people could only be awakened + by something startling and novel, and circumstances had produced a man + for the times.” + +The early numbers of the _Herald_, we are told, were “agreeable, +pleasantly written, and comparatively prudish.” The habits of the editor +were “exemplary.” Finding that this sort of thing was “no go,” the +astute adventurer took a bolder course, and flung aside those trammels +of decency and moderation which would have impeded or ruined the +prospects of a weaker and less original mind. The biographer admits that +his hero behaved somewhat grossly, but argues, as one might plead in +defence of a vampire or a cobra-de-capello, that he merely used the +weapons which nature had given him, and that at any rate he was no worse +than his neighbours. + + “The improved taste of the present hour will not sanction the mode in + which Mr Bennett at first undertook to be the censor of society: but + _a philosophical analysis of the means which were used in his peculiar + and eccentric course (!)_ exhibits motives as the springs of action, + which do not necessarily indicate a callous heart or a bad temper.... + That Mr Bennett had been provoked to use any and all power at his + command, to overturn the wanton assailants of his character, cannot be + denied. _He had but armed himself with the best instruments heaven had + bestowed upon him_, and his mode of warfare was quite as dignified as + that which had been resorted to, and adopted for fifteen or twenty + years before, by the Press generally.” + +If instead of the blasphemous word “Heaven” we substitute another more +congruous to the nature of the subject, the above may be taken as a +sufficiently “philosophical” view of the point at issue. A little +farther on there is a still clearer admission. After telling us that the +public did not care for political articles in such small sheets as the +_Herald_, the biographer shows how it became _necessary_ for Mr Bennett +to fill his paper with falsehood and obscenity:— + + “It would have been folly, therefore, to have attempted to make a + daily offering to the public of a newspaper, such as is accepted even + at the present hour. Mr Bennett saw this—he felt it. He wrote to + create an interest for himself and the _Herald_. In this he was + pecuniarily wise, for had he taken a more dignified course, and thus + have produced only such studied articles as he had contributed to the + _Courier and Enquirer_, from 1829 to 1832, the _Herald_ would not have + existed for a single month, unless sustained by a sacrifice of capital + which it was not in the power of Mr Bennett to command. All of his + success depended upon his making a journal wholly different from any + one that was in existence.” + +And in that attempt the enterprising editor succeeded to a miracle, for +certainly anything approaching to the _Herald_ in its “peculiar” +character, the literature of civilisation had not seen! + +That there may be no mistake on the matter, the biographer, in summing +up the transcendent merits of Mr Bennett near the close of the volume, +assures us that the course pursued was perfectly deliberate:— + + “On the 5th of May 1835, he commenced _his work of regeneration_ by + publishing the first number of the _New York Herald_, which, till it + was established, was conducted with such peculiarities as secured it + attention—_peculiarities which seemed to have sprung from a mind + resolved to carry out certain broad personal characteristics_, which + in themselves furnish the bitterest satire upon the true nature of + political and social life known to the literature of any age or + country. _The course adopted was not based on impulse. There is no + excuse for it on that ground. It was the fruit of the most careful + reflection, as is proved by the fact that the original prospectus has + not been departed from in any point whatever during a period of twenty + years._ The original design was to establish a journal which should be + independent of all parties, and _the influence of which should be + grounded upon its devotion to the popular will_—a plan which has found + numerous imitators, and which is the only one suited to satisfy the + demands of the public.” + +Mr Bennett, who of course “endorses” these sentiments, is thus, it is +evident, as much at ease in his “conscience” with regard to his past +conduct as ever, and would, if the thing were to be done over again, do +it _con amore_ again. The _popular will_—not Truth or Righteousness; the +most sweet voices of the rabble, not the still small voice of the man +within the breast—that, then, is the creed of this “regenerator” of +journalism—_Apage Satana_. + +The best type of Scottish character is eminently distinguished by force +and earnestness; but as a Scotchman, when he is good, is intensely so—a +Scotchman, when he sells himself to Clooty, is perhaps of all human +beings the most devoted servant of that personage. Scotland, which has +produced such eminent examples of genius and nobleness in this century +as Thomas Chalmers and John Wilson, had the misfortune to give birth +also to James Gordon Bennett. Let her not grieve, for the same England +that gave birth to John Milton, was the mother likewise of Titus Oates. + + + + + THE GREEK CHURCH. + + +There can be no question with the philosopher, that war is one of the +great sources of change in the movement of the world. Whether its +purpose be conquest or defence, or its stimulant ambition or +restlessness, or its immediate impulse the genius of some great leader, +urging the rapacity of a people, the changes which it makes in the +general mass of society are always more remarkable than those of any +other instrument of human impression. Wars are the moral thunderstorms, +which either cover the face of society with havoc, or purify its +atmosphere. War is the shifting of the channel in which the great stream +of society has hitherto flowed on, and the formation of the new course +which fertilises a new region, while it leaves the old one barren; or, +is like the power of steam, a pressure in its nature explosive, and +marking its power only in its ruin, but capable of being guided into a +general benefactor of man, and originating effects large and general +beyond the means of any other mover. + +To the reader of the Scriptures, the question is decided at once. War is +constantly held forth as the instrument of Divine action—sometimes as +punishment, sometimes as restoration, but always as subservient to a +great providential intention. A voice of more than man calls Cyrus from +the sands of Persia, at once to smite the pride of Babylon, and to break +the chains of the Jew. The same voice summons Alexander from the hills +of Macedonia to subvert Persepolis, and be the protector of the chosen +people. We have the distinct declaration from the highest of all +sources, that the Roman war which closed the national existence of that +unhappy but memorable people, was the direct performance of the Divine +will by the instrumentality of the heathen sword. + +It is true, that in later history we have not the same power of +ascertaining the distinct purposes of Providence. We “see through a +glass darkly,” through the dimmed medium of human knowledge, through the +comparison of things imperfectly shown, and the misty conjectures of +man. Yet still it is a study honourable to human intelligence, and we +are sometimes enabled, even by flashes and fragments of evidence, to +trace without superstition or exaggeration the ways of that great +Disposer, who balances the fates of nations, and whose vigilance is as +sleepless as His power is immeasurable. No man conversant with modern +history can doubt, that the war of the German princes in the sixteenth +century sheltered the cradle of the Reformation, until the mighty infant +was enabled to quit that cradle and assume maturity; or that the war +with Spain and the destruction of the Armada gave English Protestantism +an embodying of strength in England, and a renown abroad, which secured +it from all assault either at home or abroad; or that the wars of +William III., in Ireland and on the Continent, were the virtual throwing +of a shield over Protestantism in England, and extinguishing by the +sword in France the power which had pledged itself to the extermination +of French Protestantism; or that the French revolutionary war, however +originating in the national vices, had, in its conquest of the three +Capitals of Austria, Prussia, and Russia, a direct connection with the +vengeance of insulted justice, and the retribution of outraged humanity +on the royal spoilers of unhappy Poland. + +Nothing among the phases of human affairs has been a matter of older or +more frequent wonder to both the philosopher and the Christian, than the +condition of the country ranging along the eastern shore of the +Mediterranean. That, within the perpetual hearing, and almost within +sight of the civilisation of Europe, with the sounds of its moral +revolutions, progress, and discoveries in its ears, it has never +exhibited an inclination to try the strength of its own frame in any of +the exercises of self-government; that, with a population highly gifted +by nature, acute, adroit, and even warlike, fifty-fold more numerous +than the Turk; that, with the finest climate of the globe, the richest +soil, the noblest historic recollections, the whole region, from Egypt +to the Euphrates, should have exhibited its bravery in nothing but the +exploits of banditti, its intelligence in nothing but the craft of the +trafficker, and its philosophy in nothing but the submission of the +slave, seems unaccountable. + +Yet especially that Palestine, the land of which we can never speak the +name, or remember the afflictions, or revolve the history, without +homage, sorrow, and hope; that the soil, with every hill and valley and +sea-shore sacred to the Christian heart, and the object of promises, on +which we fully rely, yet which transcend all that earth has seen of +blessing, power, and splendour,—the land of which Inspiration has +pronounced: “Thy sun shall no more go down; neither shall thy moon +withdraw itself: for the Lord shall be thine everlasting light, and the +days of thy mourning shall be ended. Thy people also shall be all +righteous: they shall inherit the land for ever, the branch of my +planting, the work of my hands, that I may be glorified. A little one +shall become a thousand, and a small one a strong nation: I the Lord +will hasten it in his time” (Isaiah, lx. 20); that Palestine, towards +which every man, Christian or Jew, looks, as the prophet in the days of +the captivity looked in his prayer, should be still desolate; that even +Jerusalem, whose very dust is dear to us, should be known as scarcely +more than the haunt of obscure superstition, and the squabbles of Greek +and Latin monks,—is among the most surprising facts of human annals. + +We are by no means sanguine as to the _effect_ of the war, into which +Russia has provoked the Powers of Europe. It is an impulse which may +pass away—a “wind which bloweth where it listeth, and we hear but the +sound thereof”—a form of ambitious frenzy, starting up from the imperial +couch, and, in the first moment of exhaustion, sinking back within its +curtains. But, notwithstanding all those possibilities, to chide the +eagerness of human anticipation, nothing is more evident than that the +war has some features which distinguish it from all the wars since the +fall of the Greek Empire. It is remarkable that its first quarrel was in +Jerusalem, and the express contest was for the possession of the most +venerated spot in Jerusalem, the Holy Sepulchre. Whether this quarrel +was sincere or a pretence—whether to restore injured rights or to cover +a determination of wrongs—is a matter of no moment in presence of the +fact that thus began the Russian war. Another obvious fact is, that +though there have been expeditions to the Levant within the century, as +the march of Napoleon into Syria, and the later assaults on Acre, this +is the first war, since the Crusades, which ever poured the weight of +the great armies and navies of England and France on the East, which +ever planted a solid step on the lands under the Mahommedan rule, which +ever exhibited European strength, arts, discipline, and treasure, in +their actual and distinct character, to the eye of the Mahommedan. If +the European forces should be withdrawn to-morrow, there can be no doubt +of their having thrown a new light on the mind of the Mahommedan world. +The old generation must soon pass away, and a large portion of its +prejudices must pass away with it. The new generation may respect its +memory, and act as the pallbearers in its obsequies, but they will not +go down into its grave. Already the Turk is becoming associated with the +Englishman and the Frenchman; the English discipline of the Contingent +must leave its impressions, even when the Contingent shall be broken up. +The pay, the punctuality, the good order, and the gallantry of the +service, cannot be forgotten; and the man will be cast into a mould, +manlier and more capable of progress than any Turk, since the tribe, +with the “black banner” before them, descended from the slopes of the +Himalaya. The Christians of the Ottoman Empire have obtained new +privileges already by this war. Measures are on foot for making their +testimony available in the courts of justice. They are to have the right +of bearing arms in the Ottoman service—a highly important innovation, +and leading to every privilege; and there can be no doubt that the +Ottoman government must acknowledge its old power of oppression to be at +an end, or that any attempt at persecution or violence to its Christian +subjects would be under penalty of provoking resistance from its +Christian allies. All those results have their origin in the war, and +those are in their nature progressive. Privilege begets privilege, and +the next quarter of a century, whether in the struggles of war or the +activity of peace, will place the Christians of the East in a position +higher than their most sanguine speculation could have contemplated +before the war on the Euxine. + +Views of this order give additional value to that interesting subject, +the character of the Christian Church in the East. It becomes important +to know how far that Church is capable of assisting the progress, aiding +the energies, or even conforming to the character of a people on the eve +of renovation; whether it is to continue the swamp that it has been for +the four centuries since the capture of Constantinople, or to be the +fount flowing with the waters of national life; whether it is to be +regarded as a monument of dreary ceremonial, encumbering the soil with +its weight, and of doctrines incompatible with the gospel, or as only +waiting to be freed from the barbarian accumulations of antiquity, to +show the world an architecture worthy of its apostolic founders, and fit +for the reception of enlightened mankind. + +The Greek Church has, beyond all question, high claims to the +consideration of Christendom as the mother of all the churches,—founded +by the Apostles, governed by the last of the Apostles,—the Church of the +first Christian empire, and for the first four centuries exhibiting the +most illustrious examples of virtue and ability, of patience under +trial, and of piety in the propagation of the faith. In the Church of +proconsular Asia was the arena in which the strength of revelation was +first tried against all the power of imperial heathenism, the severer +combats than against the lions of Numidia. To that province was sent the +message to the “Angels of the Seven Churches;” in its neighbouring +Byzantium was erected the central Church, the spiritual sun, which +spread its light through the East and West, through the shores and +forests of the North, and through the mountains and wildernesses of the +South,—the Church which, resisting the image-worship of the Western +nations, and the mysterious mythology of the East, continued for fifteen +hundred years the Ark of Christianity. + +The subject has been frequently touched on in the rapid publications of +our time, but with an inaccuracy of detail, and an obscurity of view, +which fully justifies the attempt to rectify the one, and to clear up +the other. + +From the fourth century, the subtle spirit of the Greeks began to +exercise itself in those questions of Scripture, which, being +confessedly above the range of the human faculties, are to be received +on the authority of Scripture alone, as the objects of faith, and not of +experience. The Arian, Nestorian, and Eutychian heresies began to +disturb the world. The great Council of Nice (A.D. 325), an assemblage +of 318 bishops, declared the voice of the Church against the doctrine of +Arius; yet the heresy continued for some ages to distract the empire. +When these disputes had worn themselves out, another source of +disturbance exhibited itself in the Civil claims of the rival Sees of +Rome and Constantinople. The Bishop of Rome demanded the Supremacy for +the sitter in the ancient capital of empire; the Bishop of +Constantinople demanded it for the sitter in the capital of the actual +empire. But the contest was unequal. The Bishop of the West had no +imperial figure to thwart his authority; the Bishop of the East stood +directly under the shadow of the imperial figure. The former was the +lord of the faith to the half-civilised and superstitious millions of +the barbarian settlers in Europe; the latter was surrounded with as many +heresies as episcopates, with keen inquiries and doubtful fidelity, with +philosophy envenomed into scepticism, and with four Patriarchs, +sometimes denying his doctrine, and always envying his authority. + +The contest continued through two centuries, treated by the warlike +emperors with contempt, and regarded by the feeble emperors with alarm. +At length it was decided by Justinian, one of those characters who form +epochs in history. It is only by such epochs that we can mark the +progress of those unvarying years and casual trains of events which form +the stream of Time. Remote history is like the remote landscape; we +judge of the country only by its mountain-tops. History has done but +narrow justice to this restorer of the Roman empire. It has measured his +imperial strength on the scale of his personal weakness; but the true +estimate of the governor of kingdoms is by what he has done on the +throne. Monarchs are _actors_, with their kingdom for a stage, and the +world for their audience. When they throw off the royal robe and the +buskin, they are but men; but who has a right to follow them behind the +scenes? In the reign of Justinian was reunited the dislocated empire. +Italy and Northern Africa were conjoined. The barbarian kingdoms of +Europe were reduced into submission, the celebrated Code was established +which formed the body of law to Europe for nearly ten centuries, and +which exists as the civil law to this day. The noblest temple of Europe +(until the sixteenth century), the Santa Sophia, was built by him, and +he held the sceptre with undiminished authority to the end of a reign of +thirty-nine years, and a life of eighty-three! + +The sole imperial weakness of Justinian was his theology; he loved to +mingle in the turbid discussions of the time. In one of those +discussions, to conciliate the verdict of the Roman bishop, he conferred +on him the title of “Head of the Universal Church,”—a title which no man +could be guiltless in either bestowing or accepting, the title belonging +to Him alone who earned it on Calvary; the bestowal was a usurpation, +and the adoption a crime. From this transaction, and from the year 533, +the Papacy dates its assumed supremacy over the Universal Church. + +The separation of the Greek and the Latin Churches was near at hand. In +the seventh century Rome had adopted image-worship. In the eighth +century the Emperor Leo proclaimed it an abomination, and ordered that +all images should be taken from the altars. The Pope (Gregory II.) +answered the command by a challenge. His answer was an Anathema. “You +accuse,” said his letter, “the Catholics of idolatry: in this you betray +your own impiety. You assault us, tyrant, with a carnal and military +hand; we can only implore Christ that he will _send you a devil_ for the +destruction of your body and the salvation of your soul. Are you +ignorant that the Popes are the bands of union, the mediators of peace +between the East and the West? The eyes of the nations are fixed on our +humility, and they _revere as a God on earth_ the Apostle St Peter, +whose image you threaten to destroy. The remote kingdoms of the earth +present their homage to Christ _and His viceregent_.” A war followed; +Gregory sent out his “pastoral letters” through the West. The imperial +troops were beaten in Italy by the peasant insurrection. A battle was +fought on the banks of the Po, with such slaughter of the Greeks, that +for a succession of years the people refused to eat of the fish. Rome +was broken off from the empire. The imperial sovereignty of the West was +at an end, after a dominion of seven centuries; and image-worship was +established as the religion of the Popedom. + +The schism of the churches was now begun. But the question had changed +from doctrine, which the growing ignorance of the age was unable to +discuss, to jurisdiction, a discussion which at once excited the +ambition and fed the animosity of a time of _darkness_. The bitterness +of the contest was increased in the ninth century by the elevation of +Photius to the see of Constantinople. + +This remarkable man was the solitary light of his age in the East. He +was a layman, who had passed through the highest offices of the State, +and a scholar who has left the monument of his scholarship to posterity +in his celebrated _Bibliotheca_. To place him in the bishopric, the +emperor deposed its former possessor, who appealed to Rome. The pope +ordered his restoration; the emperor repeated his refusal. + +It would be as idle to trace, as it would be difficult to disentangle, +the perplexities of a quarrel which continued for centuries. But the +consummation was now at hand. The Pope (Leo IX.), and the Patriarch, +Cerularius, had excommunicated each other. A conference of pretended +conciliation was held in Constantinople with the papal legates. It ended +in new claims, met by new resistance: the legates, at last, went +solemnly to the church of Santa Sophia, publicly read the letters of +excommunication, placed the document of anathema on the high altar, and +then departed from Constantinople! Thus in 1054 was completed the +Schism, which had been commenced in arrogant ambition, and continued in +priestly rancour; which had scandalised Christendom, and libelled +Christianity; and which, in Asia, was punished by the conquests and +conversions of Mahommedanism, and in Europe by the increased power, the +darker superstition, and the sterner severities of Rome. + +From this period we may state the doctrines and practices of the Greek +Church, as an independent community. + +The doctrine of the Holy Trinity is established. But the Holy Spirit is +assumed to _proceed_ from the Father only; in this point differing from +the Popish and the Protestant Churches. This difference was the subject +of long controversy between the East and the West, but, with the usual +fate of ancient disputation, leaving both parties more confident in +their own opinions. + +On the doctrine of Redemption, its language is that of Scripture; Christ +is acknowledged to be the Regenerator of our fallen nature. +Justification by Faith includes the works which prove the sincerity of +the faith, without which “faith is dead.” + +Regeneration is regarded as _essential_, but this Church admits of no +_Indulgences_; on this point differing totally from the practices of +Rome. + +The Church acknowledges no _purgatory_. But it holds an “intermediate +state of the departed;” the spirits of the wicked remaining in a place +of sorrow and comparative suffering, and those of the virtuous in a +place of rest and comparative happiness; and both thus remaining until +the Resurrection. But it admits “prayer for the dead;” not for the +redemption of the spirit from a place of _purification_ or partial +penalty, but from a consideration of the Divine mercy. In those +doctrines it makes some approach to Protestantism, though in praying for +the dead it obviously goes beyond the only authority to which we can +look for the condition of man after death—namely, Scripture. + +In its ritual, the Church more nearly approaches Rome. It acknowledges +as Sacraments, Marriage, Confirmation, Extreme Unction, Ordination, and +Penance, in addition to Baptism and the Lord’s Supper. + +Baptism is administered by trine immersion. + +Infants are baptised on the eighth day. + +Chrism, or anointing with holy oil, which is regarded as confirmation, +is administered soon after baptism. + +The Lord’s Supper is administered under both forms, the bread and the +wine, to both priest and laity. But the Church holds transubstantiation, +or, in the words of the Confession, “when the priest consecrates the +elements, the very substance of the bread and wine is transformed into +the substance of the true body and blood of Christ.” + +The ceremonial of the consecration is worth remarking, as it seems to +have been taken in some degree as the model for the modern innovations +in the English Ritual. The elements are first carried round the church +_on the head of the deacon_; then the priest prays that the Almighty may +convert them into the substance of the body and blood. He then prays to +the Holy Spirit for His gift. He then prays to Jesus Christ, as sitting +on the right hand of the Father, and yet invisibly present, to impart to +the receivers “His immaculate body and precious blood.” Still, there are +some distinctions in the Eastern and Western practice. The _same_ degree +of worship is not offered to the Host as in the Romish Church. It is not +carried in procession, nor is it offered to public adoration, nor is +there any festival in its honour. It is carried to the sick, but the +priests do not prostrate themselves before it. All this ceremonial the +Eastern Church pretends to justify on the ground of antiquity, where it +was not to be found in the purest and most primitive centuries. The +Protestant looks to the original solemnisation, and takes his practice +from Scripture. What common sense can believe that Jesus of Nazareth +gave His actual body to be eaten before His eyes, or that the Apostles, +while at supper, believed that they were eating flesh and drinking +blood, and this without a sign of repulsion and reluctance, or without +even a remonstrance or an inquiry? The words, “This do in _remembrance_ +of me,” are a sufficient declaration that neither His flesh nor His +blood was to remain on _earth_; for remembrance implied departure. And +that the _remembrance_ was the express purpose, is distinctly declared +in the words, “As oft as ye eat this _bread_ and drink this _cup_, ye do +show the Lord’s death _till He come_;”—thus extinguishing at once +transubstantiation, and the more diluted doctrine of the “Real +presence.” St Paul (A.D. 59) describes the Sacrament as still the +_bread_ and the _cup_ (1st Corinthians, xi. 26), the popular dishonour +of which would involve dishonour to the body and blood of which they +were the _representatives_. And he further states, that when the “Real +presence” shall have come, the representation shall pass away; as in the +instance of the Jewish sacrifices, which represented the offering of +Christ, but when the _real offering_ was come, the representation +naturally passed away, the Temple was overthrown, and sacrifice was no +more. And this was the language of the great Apostle of the Gentiles +upwards of a quarter of a century _after_ the Crucifixion. If St Paul +believed in Transubstantiation, it is impossible to doubt that he would +have scrupulously avoided any mention of the “bread and the cup,” +particularly on an occasion when he was warning the dissolute and +disputatious Corinthians of the danger of _disrespect_ to the Sacrament. + +The Greek Church holds the doctrine of Penance, Absolution by the +priest, and Auricular Confession, as a consequence of the doctrine of +Absolution, “the priest not knowing _what_ to absolve until he knows the +state of the penitent.” Absolution and Confession are held to be of the +highest importance, and of the most general application. They have been +termed “the axle on which the globe of ecclesiastical polity turns;” and +beyond question they have been the most extensive sources of power and +revenue to both the Greek faith and the Roman. + + + CEREMONIAL. + +The Ritual of the Eastern Church is even more laborious than that of the +Roman, both churches in this point straying from the simplicity of +Scripture. The elaborate ritual of the Jewish dispensation was for a +Divine purpose—the separation of the people from Heathenism; but when +that purpose ceased with the cessation of the national privileges and +the coming of Christianity, ceremonial perished, as being unnecessary to +a religion whose laws were to be “written in the heart,” and as +inconsistent with the nature of a religion which was yet to be +_universal_. Christ came to redeem mankind, not only from the yoke of +sin, but the yoke of ceremonial. “Come unto me, all ye that labour and +are heavy laden,” was the language, not merely of help to human nature, +but of relief from the weight of ordinances. Christianity has _no +ceremonial_, and but two rites, Baptism and the Lord’s Supper. It has +_forms_, for forms are essential to _order_, but it prescribes no +_system_ of worship, no locality, and no _labour_ of devotion. + +The Greek Church abounds in Fastings, and those of the severest order. +Besides the Lent of the Western Church, it has three seasons of public +abstinence within the year—one from St Whitsuntide to St Peter’s Day, +one from the 6th to the 15th of August, and one during the _forty days_ +before Christmas. In the monasteries, to this number is superadded one +for the first fourteen days of September, in honour of the “Exaltation +of the Holy Cross;” and those unnatural and unnecessary abstinences are +practised, in general, with extreme severity, even to the rejection of +all fish. On the other hand, the festivals of their saints are literally +_feasts_; thus producing, in the one instance, hazard to health, and in +the other, hazard to morals. These feasts, however, and their attendant +levities, have the presumed character of religion; and the saint of the +day is especially invoked as an intercessor, equally in contradiction to +common sense and the Gospel,—the first telling us the folly of appealing +to beings of whom we cannot possibly know whether they can hear or +answer prayer, and the second, declaring that there is but one +intercessor between God and man, Jesus Christ. + +Image-worship is held in abhorrence by the Eastern Church, yet it pays +the same species of adoration to pictures; on the idea, that while +images represent the inventions of man, pictures represent some real +existence; or that, in the words of St Paul, “An idol is nothing in the +world” (1st Corinthians, viii. 4), while a picture is the _adumbration_ +of some true transaction,—as the existence of Christ, the Virgin Mary, +the saints, &c. But, for the purpose of preserving their devotion as +pure as possible, they make those pictures generally the most +unattractive possible. With the higher orders the picture may serve only +as a stimulant to devotion, but, with the peasantry, the adoration is +probably complete. + +The Greek priests of the higher order generally exhibit a reluctance to +acknowledge the reality of this worship, this “pinakolatria,” if we must +coin a word for it. They acknowledge the popular homage, but excuse it +on the ground of respect for memorable names; as in common life we +preserve the pictures of memorable persons, and value those of our +departed friends. But the Eastern homage goes wholly beyond this +grateful observance. _We_ do not make genuflections to the pictures of +our great men, nor pray to those of our friends, nor send those pictures +to assist women in the sufferings of childbirth, nor place them on the +beds of the dying, nor believe them to work miracles. + +In fact, this worship of resemblances, whether pictures or images, is +one of the most general, and yet most _improbable_, delusions in the +world. To imagine that the statue which we carve, or the picture which +we paint, the actual work of our hands, is gifted with powers above the +man who has made it; or can have a holiness which he has not, or +faculties of which he is unconscious, or a _spirit_ which he can +approach only with homage,—is an absurdity which tasks the utmost +credulity of man. Or if he be willing to try the effect of this +contempt, he may fling the statue from its pedestal, or take down the +picture from its shrine, with the most perfect impunity. And yet, what +millions have worshipped the statue and the picture, and worship them +still! + +In the first ages of Christianity, worship was exclusively given to the +God of the Gospel; the objects of heathen adoration were an abhorrence, +and the ceremonial of the temples a theme of perpetual scorn. At length, +however, the influence of heathenism returned; Christian corruption +adopted its emblems, and the images of Christ and the Virgin were +surrounded by the sicklier devotees or more fanatical formalists of the +Church. Then came miracles. The perils of the Greek Empire required +supernatural protectors; and the Greek, unused to arms, and trembling at +Saracen invasion, gladly committed the hazardous trust of defending his +battlements to the saint in his hands. The city of Edessa was thus +_saved_! by the sight of a napkin, marked with the face of Jesus. These +cheap defences finally failed, and Mahomet was lord of the Empire; but +the passion for the picture still lived among the serfs of the Caliph; +and while Europe, looking on the remote danger with secure contempt, +multiplied her idols, Greece, under her Arab scourge, cherished her +pictures as the source of her consolation. + +The chief treasure of her mythology, the Veron Eikon, or true +resemblance, was a picture of our Lord, supposed to bear His impression +from having wiped His face on Calvary. This He gave to a woman, who gave +it to the Emperor Tiberius, whom it cured of the gout! But as the napkin +was triple-folded, it carried _three_ impressions, which were +impartially divided among the faithful; one being sent to +Constantinople, another to Paris, and the third being already in the +hands of that rather hazardous guardian of relics, Tiberius. The Veron +Eikon has seen a great deal of service since, and its last exploit was +its attempt to rout the French column advancing to Rome in 1796, an +attempt in which it unhappily failed. Such is the history of the most +authentic, renowned, and sacred relic of the Greek and Popish world. The +historian[13] gives the hymn of Byzantium to the Veronica (for they +changed it into a female, and the female into a saint) in the sixth +century. “How can we with mortal eyes contemplate this image, whose +celestial splendour the host of heaven presumes not to behold? He who +dwells in heaven condescends this day to visit us by His venerable +image. He who is seated on the Cherubim visits us this day by a picture; +which the FATHER has delineated with His immaculate hand, which He has +formed in an ineffable manner, and which _we_ sanctify by adoring it +with faith and love.” Such is idolatry everywhere at this hour! + +The “_sign_ of the Cross” is universal, and almost perpetual. The Cross +itself is frequently addressed in prayer, and in language applicable +only to the Divine Being. A quotation from Stourdza, a man of +intelligence and learning, in his defence of the Greek Church, will show +to what an extent this mysticism can be carried. + +“The Cross is the representative of the structure of man. It seems to +have been formed expressly for man, and its punishment explicitly to +serve as the emblem of his misery and his grandeur. Standing erect, +looking down on all surrounding things, the arms extended as if to +embrace the immense space of which it appears the King; the feet fixed +in this valley of tears, the brow crowned with thorns, signs of the +cares which surround man even to the tomb. Behold the Man! _Ecce +homo_—behold the adorable attitude of the God-man upon the earth. The +more we contemplate, the more we must feel that it is only by the +punishment of the Cross that Jesus Christ could express in Himself all +the woes and all the transgressions of man, expiate them, ransom them, +and exhibit collectively the human race under one form alone.” + +The use of tapers and torches in daylight services is defended, not on +the Popish principle of emblematising the Holy Spirit, but on the more +plausible ground of imitating the primitive ages, when the Christians +met only before daylight and in caverns. Both are equally presumptuous, +as unauthorised by Scripture; and both equally profane, as palpably +adopted from heathenism. + +The services of the Greek Church are wearisomely long; they are in +_Hellenic_, and therefore almost wholly unintelligible to the people, +and they are intolerably laborious to the priest; the whole body of the +services occupying twenty folio volumes, with an additional volume of +directions!—a study to which the time of the priest is almost wholly +confined, not for its knowledge, but for its manipulation; the selection +of the services appropriate to the day, which change every day, and even +in the course of the day. The Liturgy, so called, is limited to a small +portion of those labours, namely, the Communion. + +Ambition in a priesthood and ignorance in a people always produce +superstition; the priest eager to extend his authority, and the people +unable to detect the imposture. The natural results are, the Legend and +the pretended Miracle. These practices in the Greek Church take a +colouring from the picturesque region and the romantic fancy of the +people. Every island, and perhaps every hill and valley, has its sacred +spot, to which the population approach in long processions on any +remarkable public circumstance, whether of Nature or the Calendar. To +appease an epidemic, to still an earthquake, to make the skies +propitious after a drought, or to call down the peculiar aid of the +Virgin, who usurps, in the Greek mind, the whole power of +_intercession_, and thus effectively possesses the sceptre of +Omnipotence, summons the multitude in all their pageantry. + +The services of the Church being performed in a tongue comparatively +obsolete, and being recited by the priest habitually in a tone of +mystery, which renders them scarcely audible, if they were understood, +leave the people in almost total ignorance of their meaning, and of +course indifferent to all but the forms of devotion. Like the priest of +Rome, the Greek priest is the presumed _mediator_, not the leader of the +popular devotion; his prayers are _for_, not _with_, the people. Thus +his performance of the service is supposed to answer its purpose, +whether audible or whispered. One portion of his duty, however, +addresses itself to the general ear,—the reading of the “Lives of the +Saints,” entitled “The Tablet of the United Worthies,” a record of 365 +lives; all equal to gorge the most ravenous credulity. Greece, once the +land of invention, is now the land of imposture; the original talent of +the soil is now exhausted on dreary fiction. Still believing in magic, +charms, the influence of dreams, and the inspiration of the “genius +loci,” they are prepared to welcome every folly of fanaticism, and +submit to every artifice of superstition. + + + GOVERNMENT. + +The four Patriarchs, of Constantinople, Jerusalem, Antioch, and +Alexandria, are the religious rulers of the Greek Church; the three +latter being, in a certain degree, subordinate to the Patriarch of +Constantinople, without whose consent nothing of general importance can +be effected. This Patriarch is elected by the votes of the neighbouring +bishops; but he must be presented to the Sultan for institution; and as +nothing is done in Turkey without a present, the fee on this occasion +amounts to 20,000 or 30,000 dollars, the Sultan still retaining the +power of deposition, banishment, or even of death. The Patriarch +possesses the considerable privilege of naming his brother patriarchs, +but the rescript of the Sultan is still necessary for their +confirmation, and even to that of every bishop who may be appointed by +the Patriarch. Thus the Greek Church exhibits none of the “supremacy” of +the Roman. It has since the reign of Constantine claimed no “temporal +sovereignty,” and it has thus in some measure been freed from the +intrigues, violences, and crimes, which form so large a part of the +history of priestly ambition. + +Another important prevention of those evils was the marriage of the +parochial priesthood. In the earlier periods of this Church, marriage +was _commanded_ to the priest, and was considered so necessary to his +office that on the death of his wife he must give up his parish. Even +now, notwithstanding the example of Rome, the _secular_ clergy are +permitted to marry, though only once. The _regular_ clergy (monks) are +not permitted to marry, on the absurd principle that their lives are an +offering for the popular sins, and that celibacy belongs to holiness. +The marriage of the priesthood had the natural effect of rendering them +loyal, by the connection of their children with the country, of +preventing the irregularities to which constrained celibacy inevitably +gives rise, and of preventing that ambition for the influence of their +class which naturally exhibits itself in great bodies who have no tie +but to the head of their order. _Constrained_ celibacy is, in fact, a +conspiracy against human nature, which always transpires in a conspiracy +against human Allegiance. + +Monasticism forms a prominent feature of the system. The Greek convents +are numerous, powerful, and in some instances opulent. Their inhabitants +are divided into Caloyers (monks) and lay brethren. The lives of the +former are comparatively indolent; of the latter, comparatively +laborious. But the Caloyer has his peculiar round of irksome +occupations. Matins begin at four in the morning, and last until dawn. +The performance of the Liturgy is followed by reciting the life of some +saint, and that is followed again by nine hymns, six of which are to the +Virgin, and three to the saint of the day. In Lent, his task is +wearisome: he must go through the whole Psalter every day, and perform +the Metania, which consists in kissing the ground _three hundred_ times +in the twenty-four hours. To this employment four hours of the night, of +which two are immediately after midnight, are devoted. How any human +understanding can conceive that this drudgery is connected with virtue, +is productive of good to man, or is acceptable to his Creator, must be +left to the reveries of the monk, and the recorded absurdities of human +nature. + +The lay brothers are the farmers, the shepherds, the tillers, and the +traders of the convent. They are industrious, and so far they remove the +stigma from the general uselessness of conventual life. Some of those +communities are largely endowed. The monks of the well-known brotherhood +of Mount Athos have twenty convents, and possess extensive lands. Their +Turkish taxation is generally moderate, and indolence never had an +easier form than in the shape of the Caloyer. + +The state of the Russian Church would lead us too far into inquiry; but +it has a history of its own, some remarkable peculiarities, and some +prospects well worthy of examination. Those who feel an interest in the +subject may be referred to Stourdza, _Considerations sur la Doctrine_, +to King _On the Russian Church_, and to the brief but exact _Treatise on +the Greek Church_ by the present learned Dean of Durham. The subject may +well interest us, when it involves the religious welfare of the millions +inhabiting the Eastern provinces of Europe, the Danubian provinces, the +length of Asia Minor, a portion of Syria, Assyria, and Africa, and the +sixty millions of Russia—an immense extent of human existence, which a +few years may open to a purer faith, and which is already qualifying, by +the effects of knowledge, suffering, and war, for the GOSPEL. + + + + + NICARAGUA AND THE FILIBUSTERS. + + +It is a fixed idea with the American people, that in due course of time +they are to have the control of all the North American continent, and of +the Island of Cuba; they consider this their “manifest destiny,” and any +movement in that direction is looked on by them as a matter of course, +and deserving of encouragement. + +The popular name for the agency by which such a state of things is to be +brought about is “filibusterism.” The word “filibuster” is a French and +Spanish corruption of the English word freebooter, an appellation which, +in former days, from its being frequently assumed by a certain class of +men, who disliked the harsher name of pirate, became familiar to the +inhabitants of the West India Islands and Central America; but as +filibusterism is now used, it expresses the action of the American +people, or a portion of the people, in the acquisition of territory +which does not belong to them, unrestrained by the responsibilities of +the American Government. + +The sovereign people of the United States, and the United States +Government, are two distinct bodies, influenced by different motives. +The Government is obliged to maintain the appearance of keeping faith +with other friendly powers, but at the same time is so anxious to gain +popularity at home, that it does not take really effectual measures to +check any popular movement, however illegal it may be, if favoured by +the majority of the people. + +The manner in which the State of Nicaragua has been reduced, or, it +should rather be said, raised to her present position, by being occupied +and governed by a large body of Americans, affords an instance of the +truth of this statement. + +For the last two years the American and English Governments have been +exchanging diplomatic letters, arguing at great length on the abstract +meaning of certain words of a treaty, by which either power was equally +bound not to occupy, fortify, colonise, or take possession of, any part +of Central America. In the mean time a party of American citizens, under +command of a certain Colonel Walker, have virtually taken possession of, +and do now govern the State of Nicaragua, one of the States specially +mentioned in the treaty. When they first landed in Nicaragua, not ten +months ago, they numbered only fifty-six men; but in as far as they had +the good-will of the majority of the American people, they represented +the nation as truly as General Pierce and his Cabinet. Colonel Walker +was merely the practical exponent of a popular theory, and his success +has been so rapid and decisive, and such is the position he now holds in +Nicaragua, strengthened by daily accessions to his force from California +and from the United States, that the Americanisation of Nicaragua may be +almost considered an established fact. + +Should the Americans in that country be able to maintain their position, +of which, at present, there seems to be every probability, the +successful filibustering of Nicaragua will be but the beginning; the end +will be the occupation, by Americans, of all the Central American +States, and, in due course of time, of Mexico and Cuba. + +In order to show why the filibustering energies of the Americans have +been specially directed to Nicaragua, and how it is that so small a +party of them have so quickly got control of that State, and also to +appreciate fully the position which their leaders occupy as members of +the newly-formed government, it is necessary to give some information on +the political condition of the country, and on recent events there, +which the writer, while a resident in the country during the greater +part of the revolution, had good opportunity of acquiring. + + +On the discovery of gold in California in 1848, when there was such a +rush of gold-hunters to that land of promise both from the Old and the +New World, the route generally followed was that by Panama, as the most +expeditious—lines of steamers being established by American companies +from New York and New Orleans to Chagres, and from Panama to San +Francisco. + +The supply of steamers, however, was never sufficient for the +accommodation of the crowds of eager emigrants; the profits of the +steamship companies were enormous, and American enterprise was not long +in discovering and opening a new, and in many respects superior, route +to the golden regions of the Pacific. + +The new route lay through the State of Nicaragua, one of the five States +into which the Central American Confederation was dissolved in the year +1831. + +It was to the advantages offered by its geographical position that +Nicaragua owed its distinction. The Lake of Nicaragua, a splendid sheet +of water ninety miles long by about fifty broad, lies within the State. +Its most western extremity is only twelve miles from the Pacific, and at +its eastern extremity about one hundred and fifty miles from the +Atlantic: it empties itself into that ocean through the river San Juan, +which is navigable all the distance for small vessels, and forms at its +mouth the harbour of Greytown or San Juan del Norte. An inter-oceanic +canal was first talked of, but it was found that it would take all the +gold in California to construct it; so that idea was for the time +abandoned, and a New York company, styled the Accessory Transit Company +of Nicaragua, got a charter from the State, granting them for +considerations the exclusive privilege of steam-navigation of the river +San Juan, and of the Lake Nicaragua, for a period of ninety-nine years. + +Steamboats of various capacities, to suit the navigation of the river +and of the lake, were sent out—a road over the twelve miles of land, +between the lake and the harbour of San Juan del Sur on the Pacific, was +commenced—steamships were put on between that port and San Francisco, +and between New York and Greytown, and a large share of the Californian +emigration began to stream through the country. + +The difficulties of the route were at first considerable, owing to the +number of rapids in the River San Juan requiring boats of peculiar +construction for their navigation, and from the fact of the country +through which lies the road to the Pacific being a mountainous +wilderness, the greater part covered by a dense tropical forest. + +In the rainy season, which lasts for about five months, the road was so +bad that a mule would sink to his belly at every step; the twelve miles +were not unfrequently a two days’ journey, and many a poor mule, after +vainly struggling to extricate himself, succumbed to his fate, and was +absorbed in the mud, leaving his rider to fight his own way through, +which he generally did without much trouble. Such little difficulties +were not thought much of by Californian emigrants in those days. + +The Company, however, soon completed the road, and so far perfected +their arrangements that the passage from ocean to ocean is performed in +two days. + +The travel to and fro between California and the Atlantic States is not +confined to any particular class of the community. Capitalists, +merchants, professional men, mechanics, labourers,—in fact, people of +all classes, are constantly going and coming. For the last five years an +average of two thousand Americans per month have passed to and fro by +this route, and, during the few days occupied in transit, have had ample +time to admire and covet the splendid country through which they passed, +to look with utter contempt on the natives, and to speculate on what a +country it would be if it were only under the Stars and Stripes. + +The country, its climate, its advantages, resources, and social and +political condition, have thus been gradually made familiar to a +constantly increasing proportion of the people of the United States and +of California. + +It is in natural consequence of all this, and of the apparent +hopelessness of immediate success in Cuba, that the attention of the +filibustering portion of the American community has been gradually +directed to the State of Nicaragua, and the late civil war in that +country offered too favourable an opportunity to be lost for making a +beginning in furtherance of the cherished idea. + +The constitution of Nicaragua, like that of all the Spanish-American +States, is republican—that is to say, in name; in effect it approaches +more nearly to a despotism, a mode of government much better adapted to +a people the majority of whom are quite incompetent to form any idea on +the subject of self-government. + +Since the dissolution of the Central American Confederation the country +has been in a constant state of revolution. Two years is about the +longest period of peace which has intervened. The people are wantonly +destructive and cruel in their civil warfare; and having been so +actively employed for nearly twenty years in cutting each other’s +throats, battering down each other’s cities, spending their money in +gunpowder, and ruining all producing interests by taking the labourers +from the field to serve as soldiers, they had managed to reduce +themselves and their country to such a wretched state of misery, that it +really appeared to be the duty of some civilised nation to step in and +keep them all in order. + +In passing through the country, one cannot but be struck with the ruin +and desolation everywhere apparent, and with the remains of bygone +wealth and grandeur, but little in accordance with the poverty and +listless indolence in which the inhabitants are now contented to live. + +Their cities are half in ruins, and the churches, which, in their mode +of warfare, they use as fortresses, have come in for their full share of +destruction. Those which remain are peppered all over with cannon balls. +The ruins on the old indigo and cotton estates give one an idea of the +different way in which the people once employed themselves; but now, in +a country capable of producing in the greatest abundance indigo, cotton, +sugar, rice, coffee, tobacco, and nearly every other tropical +production, little else is to be seen but plantains and Indian corn, the +two great staple articles of food. The tobacco grown in the country is +good; the people, men, women, and children, are inveterate smokers, but +they do not even raise sufficient tobacco for their own consumption. The +“cacao,” or chocolate, raised in the neighbourhood of the town of Rivas, +is the finest in the world: it is a national beverage, and the greater +part of the crop is consumed in the country; a small quantity is +exported to the neighbouring States; but with the exception of a few +bullock hides and deerskins, which are sent to New York, the country +cannot be said to have any exports. + +The climate generally is by no means unhealthy. It varies very much +throughout the State, being in some parts much tempered by a constant +breeze off the lake, while in the high lands of Segovia and Matagalpa, +the temperature is so moderate that most of the grains and fruits of the +north can be raised in great perfection. + +The rainy season commences about the end of July, and continues till +November or December. During this season it rains in torrents for days +at a time, and the roads become almost impassable. The most sickly +periods of the year are the beginning and the end of this season; fever +and ague are then very prevalent, but the natives suffer more than +foreigners, chiefly owing to the wretched way in which they live, the +habitations of the lower orders affording generally but poor protection +against the weather. + +In the mountains of the district of Matagalpa, which form part of the +great range which traverses all the North American continent, are mines +of gold and silver. They have hitherto only been worked by the Indians +in a very rude manner, but sufficient has been done to prove that they +are rich: if scientifically worked, they will no doubt prove very +productive. + +The forests abound in rosewood, mahogany, and other beautiful woods, and +throughout the State many valuable medicinal gums and plants are found. + +The scenery is varied and very beautiful; at certain seasons the trees +are completely covered with flowers, and the forests are a confused mass +of luxuriant vegetation. + +There are several volcanic mountains in the country, all of great +similarity of appearance: the finest is Ometepe, which rises out of the +lake, in the shape of a perfect cone, to the height of many thousand +feet. + +The people are very deficient in ambition and energy, and have a very +decided objection to labour. As long as a man has sufficient to supply +his immediate wants, he cannot be induced to work, but will devote +himself to the passive enjoyment of swinging in his hammock, and smoking +a cigar. In this way they pass the greater part of their time, as very +little labour is requisite to provide plantains, beans, and Indian corn, +which are the principal articles of food. + +Gambling is a prevailing vice, cards and dice being chiefly played. +Cockfighting, however, is the great national sport, and at this the most +money is staked. The fight is never of very long duration, being +generally nothing more than a flutter of wings for a moment, when one +cock crows over the other lying dead at his feet, nearly cut in two by +the long sharp knives with which their heels are armed. + +They have celebrated breeds of chickens, on which they pride themselves, +and in almost every house in the country may be seen one or more +gamecocks tied by the leg in a corner. The owner is always ready to +fight a cock on any occasion, but Sunday afternoon is the time generally +devoted to this amusement, which is patronised by all classes. + +The people possess a great deal of natural grace, and are extremely +polite and formal in their manners; even the lower orders are remarkable +for their gracefulness of gesture, and for their courteous phraseology. + +The principal cities of Nicaragua are Granada, on the northern shore of +the lake, and Leon, about a hundred and fifty miles to the north, and +not far from the Pacific coast. They are both fine cities, built in the +usual Spanish-American style, with narrow streets, and large houses of a +single storey, covering an immense area, and built in the form of a +square, the centre being an open space, generally planted with trees and +flowers, and all round which is a wide open corridor. The houses are +very spacious and lofty, and admirably adapted to the climate. + +The population of Granada is about 15,000, that of Leon is rather more. +Between the inhabitants of these two cities there has always existed a +bitter feeling of jealousy and enmity, and in most of their revolutions +the opposing factions have been the Granadinos against the Leoneses. So +it was in the revolution which is only now terminated, and which +commenced in May 1854. + +The government at that time was in the hands of the Granada party. The +president, the late Don Fruto Chamorro, was a man of great energy and +determination, but unfortunately also of most stubborn obstinacy. He +would listen to advice from no one, but blindly insisted on carrying out +his own ideas. After being a little more than a year in power, and +becoming more despotic every day, he issued a decree, declaring himself +president for four years more than the usual term. + +The Leon party of course immediately got up a revolution, of which the +leaders were a few prominent men, whom Chamorro had a few months before +banished from the State, on suspicion of their being engaged in a +conspiracy against the government. At the head of them was Francisco +Castillon, a man of superior education, and with much more liberal and +enlightened views than most of his countrymen, having spent some years +in England as minister for Nicaragua. The object of the revolution was +to place Castillon in power, and the party professed to entertain +liberal ideas, and styled themselves the Democratic Party. They +commenced their operations at Realejo, a small port on the Pacific, at +the northern extremity of the State, where, with a small force, they +surprised the few soldiers of the garrison. They proceeded to +Chinandega, a considerable town about six miles on the way to Leon. Here +they met but slight resistance, the majority of the people being +favourable to them; and with a large addition to their force, they +marched towards Leon, distant about thirty miles, where they established +their head-quarters, after fighting one battle in the neighbourhood with +the government forces under Chamorro in person, who was defeated, and +retired to Granada. In Leon they remained some time recruiting their +forces, before venturing to attack Granada, which is the great +stronghold of the government party. + +The system adopted of recruiting is very simple indeed. A few soldiers +with fixed bayonets are sent out to bring in fresh men, or, to use their +own expressive term, to “catch” men. When the unfortunate recruit is +“caught,” a musket is put in his hands, and he becomes a soldier. +Soldiering is by no means a popular occupation: during a revolution, at +the approach of forces of either party, the peace-loving natives, in +order to escape being “caught,” and forced into the service, will remain +hidden in the woods till they are nearly starved. The lower orders take +but little interest in the revolutions, or in politics, and from troops +raised in this way, of course very valorous deeds are not to be +expected. They generally desert on the first opportunity; but, if they +do not take their muskets with them, it is of little consequence, as +other men are soon caught, and made to carry them. Sometimes, however, +men become scarce, the able-bodied having emigrated to some more +peaceful locality; in such a case one-half of a garrison is placed to +keep guard over the other half, to prevent their running away. + +There is consequently no mutual feeling of confidence between officers +and men. During impending danger of an attack, the officers will keep +their horses saddled all night, and sleep with their spurs on, ready to +cut and run at a moment’s notice, and leave their men to take care of +themselves. The men, in their turn, when led into battle, will turn +round and desert their officers at the most critical moment. There are +exceptions, of course; and during the late revolution, many, both +officers and men, fought well and bravely; none more so than the late +President Chamorro. + +While the Democrats were recruiting in Leon, Chamorro was busy +collecting his forces in Granada, and preparing to stand a siege. + +In all these Spanish towns is a large public square called the Plaza, in +which are generally the principal church, the barracks, and other public +buildings. The Plaza, in case of war, becomes the citadel, the streets +leading into it being all barricaded, and cannon planted so as to +command the approaches. Chamorro enclosed within his barricades the +Plaza, and a considerable portion of the city immediately surrounding +it. The streets being narrow, barricades were soon made of logs of wood +and “adobes,” a sort of sun-dried bricks, of which the houses are built. + +Double and triple barricades of this sort, eight or ten feet high, +presented a very effectual resistance to anything which the enemy had to +bring against them. The Democrats soon made their appearance, and taking +possession of all that part of the city not enclosed in the barricades, +they fixed their head-quarters in an elevated situation, from which they +could pop their cannon balls into any part of the Plaza. + +Neither party were well provided with artillery. They had each three or +four guns, twelve and twenty-four pounders, with which they blazed away +at each other for nearly a year, and between them managed to lay about +three-fourths of the city in ruins. + +The city was never completely invested, and occasional skrimmages +between small parties of the opposing forces took place outside the +town, but nothing worthy the name of an assault was ever attempted. The +Democrats soon became masters of the entire country, with the exception +of the besieged portion of the city of Granada occupied by Chamorro and +his party, the Legitimists, as they called themselves. + +When a small detachment of the Democratic army marched upon Rivas, the +only town of importance in the part of the country through which the +Transit road passes, the inhabitants, being mostly in favour of the +Chamorro government, fled _en masse_, taking with them all their +valuables and movable property, to the neighbouring state of Costa Rica, +the frontier of which is within twenty miles. + +The few who had the courage to remain were not molested, but the +Democrats appropriated to their own use as barracks, &c., whatever +private houses suited their convenience, and commenced levying +contributions on the inhabitants; but as they had fled, and were not +present to respond to the call, their property was advertised for sale, +their stores broken open, their goods sold, and sundry other forcible +measures taken to raise funds. + +The mode of financing in time of revolution is equally simple with that +of recruiting. + +When a contribution, as they call it, is levied on a town, the principal +inhabitants are assessed arbitrarily by the officers in command for as +much as each is supposed to be able to pay. The unfortunate victims have +then to fork out the dollars; there is no help for them. If they refuse, +or plead poverty, they are perhaps imprisoned and kept on low diet: a +few days of this treatment has a wonderful effect on the memory, and +frequently enables a man to remember where he has buried his cash, or to +discover some means of raising the needful, to be handed over for the +support of the party, to which probably he may be opposed. When his own +party come in to power again, they will make him disgorge to double the +amount by way of punishment. For these forced loans he may get some sort +of debenture, worth about as much as the paper it is written on. In such +times the people are afraid to let it be supposed that they have any +money at all; they feign poverty, burying their money secretly, and the +houses of foreign residents are lumbered up with all sorts of chests and +boxes, sent there stealthily by the unfortunate natives, in order to +keep them safe from the rapacity of their countrymen. + +The Democrats from the first were eager to obtain the good-will of the +American residents; and as they professed to be fighting in the cause of +liberty and progress, against tyranny and old-fogeyism, they succeeded +in enlisting a dozen or so of Americans in San Juan del Sur and Virgin +Bay. The latter place is a small village on the lake, where the +passengers by the Transit route embark on the steamers. They paid these +men about a hundred dollars per month, gave them commissions as colonels +and captains, and sent them to Granada to pepper the Chamorro party with +their rifles. + +With the aid of some Americans, they also took possession of San Carlos, +which is an old fort situated at the point where the lake debouches into +the river San Juan. It is a position of great importance, as it commands +the entrance into the lake, by which is the only communication between +the interior of the country and the Atlantic. They also occupied an old +Spanish fort about fifty miles down the river, called Castillo, where +there are a few hotels kept by Americans for the accommodation of +passengers by the Transit route. + +In Leon, the head-quarters of the Democrats, they proclaimed their +government, declaring Castillon president. They appointed all the +necessary government functionaries throughout the State, and in fact +were the virtual government of the country. + +The Legitimists remained in a state of siege in Granada, and would have +had to surrender for want of ammunition, had they not succeeded in +retaking San Carlos from the Democrats, and thereby opening their +communication with the Atlantic; they then procured a large supply of +powder and shot from Jamaica. + +During the siege the besieging army of Democrats numbered about fifteen +hundred, while the Legitimists did not number more than a thousand. + +The Democrats were assisted by the state of Honduras to the extent of +two hundred men; and the Legitimists were long in negotiation with the +government of Guatemala, which was favourable to their cause, but they +did not succeed in getting any material aid from that State. + +After ten months’ vain endeavour to take the Plaza of Granada, the +Democrats, last February, broke up their camp, and retired to Leon. At a +town called Masaya, about half-way from Granada, they were overtaken and +attacked by the opposite party. A bloody fight ensued—the thickest of it +took place in the church, in which some three hundred men were killed. + +The Granada party now regained possession of the southern part of the +State, while the Democrats continued to hold Leon and all the northern +portion. + +During the time that the Transit route had been held by the Democrats, +they had been most active in their endeavours to enlist Americans in +their cause. Cash was scarce, but their offers of lands to those who +would join them were very liberal; and it soon became known, both in +Nicaragua and in California, that a negotiation had been concluded +between Colonel Walker in San Francisco, through his agent in Nicaragua, +and the Democratic government, whereby large tracts of land were granted +to him, and other privileges guaranteed to him, on condition of his +coming down with a certain number of men to serve in the Democratic +army. + +This Colonel Walker had already distinguished himself as the most daring +filibuster of the day. In the month of October 1853, he was the leader +of an expedition which sailed from San Francisco, with the intention of +taking possession of Sonora, a northern state of Mexico, adjoining +California. He landed at a small place on the coast, with some fifty or +sixty men, where he met but little resistance. He proclaimed himself +president, and appointed each one of his party to some high office of +state. He very soon, however, had to evacuate the premises, and escaped +to California, with but a small portion of his original band; and on his +arrival in San Francisco, was tried for a violation of the neutrality +laws: he conducted his own defence, and of course was acquitted. The +people of California are not disposed to judge very harshly of such an +enterprise, and from the larger portion of the community he met with +more sympathy than condemnation. + +It was so publicly known in San Francisco that Walker was fitting out +his Nicaraguan expedition, that the authorities were of course compelled +to interfere. Their endeavours to stop the sailing of his brig, however, +were not very effectual, as Walker, having embarked all his small party +of fifty-six men, managed to get under weigh during the night. + +In the month of May they arrived in the port of Realejo, and marched to +Leon to join the head-quarters of the Democratic army. + +The Legitimists were now in a perpetual state of consternation: during +the siege of Granada they had learned to appreciate the efficacy of an +American rifle in American hands; and in their frightened imaginations, +Walker’s modest force of fifty-six men was augmented to 500. They made +active preparations, however, to give him a warm reception: +proclamations were issued with the object of rousing the patriotism of +the people, calling on all to be ready to take up arms to save the +independence of the country, and ordering all the inhabitants, on the +approach of Walker, to retire to the nearest garrison. However, +excepting among the political leaders of the party, and those +compromised with them in the revolution, the prospect of Americans +gaining the ascendancy in the country seemed to be regarded with +indifference. Indeed, many of the upper classes, tired of their constant +revolutions, and the ruin and misery attendant upon them, longed +secretly for the presence of any foreign influence which should +guarantee peace in the country. + +The first active service in which Walker and his men were engaged was in +an expedition which was formed by the Democrats to recapture the town of +Rivas. About the end of June, the expeditionary force, consisting of +Walker’s party, and two hundred native troops under the immediate +command of their own officers, embarked at Realejo in two or three small +vessels, and landing in the neighbourhood of San Juan del Sur, marched +across the country upon the town of Rivas, distant about twenty-five +miles. + +The people of Rivas, when the Legitimists retook the town in February, +had returned from their voluntary exile in Costa Rica; and feeling, no +doubt, ashamed of the inglorious way in which, a year before, they +abandoned their town to the Democrats without ever firing a shot, they +roused themselves now to make a stout resistance, their spies having +given them ample warning of the enemy’s approach. + +When the Democrats arrived, and the fight began, Walker was most +shamefully deserted by the whole of the native troops, and he found +himself, with his fifty-six Americans, opposed to a force of about four +hundred. + +His party, however, had taken up their position in a house, from which +their rifles dealt sudden death most profusely—all the natives killed +were hit in the head; but at last they expended their ammunition, and +the Legitimists setting fire to the house, they were obliged to cut +their way through them, and retired to San Juan del Sur, which place +they reached unmolested, the natives not caring to follow them. + +The loss on Walker’s side, in this affair, was six men killed; while the +Legitimists lost about seventy. + +At San Juan del Sur they found a small schooner to take them back to +Realejo; and before sailing, Walker performed an act of summary justice, +which raised him highly in the opinion of many people in the country. He +and his men had all embarked quietly in the evening on board the +schooner, which was lying in the harbour, and were waiting till morning +for a breeze, when, about midnight, two Americans, who did not belong to +Walker’s party, and were well known to be bad and desperate characters, +set fire to a large wooden building which was used as a barrack: their +object was to burn the town, and take the opportunity of the confusion +to rob and plunder the inhabitants, expecting, no doubt, that Walker’s +party would join them. + +They made a great mistake, however; for, on going on board Walker’s +vessel, and boasting of what they had done, he immediately arrested +them, and as there were no authorities ashore to whom he could hand them +over, he had them tried by a court-martial at once, by which they were +sentenced to be shot. One was shot while endeavouring to make his escape +in a boat; the other was taken ashore to be shot, where, in the darkness +of the night, he managed to escape from his guards. + +About a month before this time General Chamorro died of an illness, +under which he had been for some months gradually sinking. He was +succeeded as General-in-chief of the Legitimist party by General Corral, +who had already been actually in command for some time. + +Walker did not attempt another descent on that part of the country till +the month of August, when he landed at San Juan del Sur with about +seventy-five Americans and two hundred native troops. There he met with +no opposition, the forces of the Legitimists being all concentrated in +the town of Rivas. He shortly marched to the village of Virgin Bay on +the Lake: while there he was attacked by a vastly superior force of +Legitimists under General Guardiola. The fight lasted several hours, but +Walker succeeded in driving them back to Rivas with considerable loss. +The casualties on his side were, two Americans wounded and half-a-dozen +natives killed. After this he again returned to San Juan del Sur, where +he remained quietly receiving reinforcements from California, and +enlisting from the passengers passing through the country. + +Virgin Bay and San Juan del Sur are two small villages, called into +existence by the establishment of the Transit route. They form the +termini of the land travel, and are composed principally of American +hotels for the accommodation of passengers; the requirements of the +Transit route also furnish employment to a small number of Americans at +these two points. + +About the middle of October, Walker—now holding a regular commission as +Commander-in-chief of the Democratic army, and having gradually +augmented the number of Americans under his command to two hundred, and +having a force of two hundred and fifty native troops—proceeded to +Virgin Bay, and, taking possession of one of the Transit Company’s +steamers, he embarked his whole force. After a few hours’ passage he +landed his troops about two miles from Granada, and marched directly on +that stronghold of the Legitimists. General Corral, the +Commander-in-chief, was in Rivas with the greater part of his forces, +expecting that Walker would make that the first point of attack. The +garrison in Granada were completely taken by surprise, and, after firing +but a few shots, Walker had full possession of the city. The inhabitants +were at first greatly alarmed, expecting that the Democrats would commit +all sorts of excesses; but Walker quickly issued a proclamation, +promising protection to person and property. As the people found that he +maintained such strict discipline among his troops as to be able to keep +his word, tranquillity was soon restored; and no doubt favourable +comparisons were drawn between the order and quiet which prevailed on +the taking of their city by the Democrats under Walker, and the scenes +of plunder and excess which had ensued on such occasions in their former +revolutions. + +During the months of July and August, the country had been visited by +cholera in its most deadly form. Many small villages, Virgin Bay and San +Juan del Sur among the number, were almost depopulated. In the town of +Masaya, with a population of about ten thousand, nearly one-third of the +number perished. Castillon, the Democratic president in Leon, fell a +victim to the disease; and Walker, being General-in-chief, was now at +the head of the party. He was offered the Presidency, which he +judiciously declined, retaining his more effective office of +General-in-chief. + +The Commander-in-chief of the Legitimist party, General Corral, being at +Rivas with his forces, it was proposed to offer him terms, as it must +have been evident to him that his cause was now hopeless. Colonel +Wheeler, the United States Minister resident in Nicaragua, was induced, +at the urgent solicitation of the people of Granada, to undertake the +duty of negotiating terms, assisted by Don Juan Ruiz, a man of great +influence in the Rivas department. + +On their arrival in Rivas, in pursuit of their pacific object, Colonel +Wheeler very soon found himself a prisoner in the hands of the +Legitimists. Some days afterwards, his non-appearance causing alarm to +his friends of the other party, a schooner was despatched to make a +demonstration before Rivas, which is situated about a mile from the +shore of the Lake. After a few guns had been fired, the Legitimists took +the hint, and set Colonel Wheeler at liberty. + +A negotiation was afterwards entered into, which resulted in a treaty of +peace being agreed upon, and signed by Walker and Corral, as the +representatives of their respective parties. + +By this treaty, which was concluded towards the end of October, it was +agreed that the two governments which had existed in the country since +the commencement of the revolution, should cease. Don Patricio Rivas was +declared provisional President for fourteen months, and General Walker +was acknowledged General-in-chief of the army, who, with four ministers +to be appointed by the President, were to form the government. + +According to the stipulations of the treaty, General Corral, a day or +two afterwards, entered the city of Granada with his troops, and was +received by Walker. The two generals then went through an imposing +ceremony of solemnly ratifying the treaty in church. A Te Deum was sung, +the Legitimist troops were joined to the Democrats, and became one army +under command of Walker, and the following government was proclaimed:— + + DON PATRICIO RIVAS, _President_. + GENERAL WM. WALKER, _Commander-in-Chief_. + GENERAL MAXIMO XERES, _Minister of State_. + GENERAL PONCIANO CORRAL, _Minister of War_. + COL. PARKER H. FRENCH, _Minister of the Hacienda_. + DON FERMIN FERRER, _Minister of Public Credit_. + +Although the Democrats had gained the day, the new government was +composed of men of both parties. + +Rivas the President is a gentleman much esteemed and respected; he is +the head of an influential family, who have always been opposed to the +Democratic party. For some years he has been collector of customs at San +Carlos. + +General Walker, commander-in-chief, filled the same office in the +Democratic government. + +General Maximo Xeres, minister of state, was Walker’s predecessor in +command of the Democratic army, he and Corral, the new minister of war, +having been the generals of the two hostile armies during the greater +part of the revolution. + +Colonel Parker H. French, minister of the Hacienda, is an American who +distinguished himself some years ago in the intestine wars in Mexico, +and has latterly been conducting a newspaper in California. + +Don Fermin Ferrer, minister of public credit, is a wealthy citizen of +Granada, who took no active part in the late revolution. + +A very few days after General Corral had so solemnly ratified the +treaty, letters were intercepted, written by him to some other leaders +of the old Legitimist party, from which it was evident that he was +conspiring with them to upset the government, of which he had just +become a member. He was immediately tried by court-martial for treason; +and being found guilty, he was sentenced to be shot next day. With his +party he was immensely popular, and during the revolution had displayed +great ability as a military leader; but the evidences of his treachery +admitted of no doubt, and he was shot according to his sentence, in the +Plaza of Granada, in presence of the whole army. His summary execution +will no doubt have a beneficial influence on the people, by inculcating +on them the necessity of acting with sincerity, in whatever obligations +they come under. + +The new government was now formally acknowledged by Colonel Wheeler, the +American minister, the only foreign minister resident in the State. The +president was also visited by the captain of the United States sloop of +war Massachusetts, then lying in the harbour of San Juan del Sur. + +The natural consequences of a restoration of peace, after a year and a +half of revolution, were soon manifested in the return of many of the +inhabitants, who had absented themselves, to avoid the horrors of civil +war, and in the impulse given to all peaceful pursuits. + +The power of the press is such an acknowledged fact in the United +States, and the establishment of a newspaper follows so closely on the +advance of civilisation, that wherever half-a-dozen Americans are +settled together in the backwoods, one of them is sure to publish a +newspaper for the edification of the rest. + +So in Granada one of the first things the Americans did was to bring out +a weekly paper, called “_El Nicaraguense_”—“the Nicaraguan,” half +English, half Spanish. It is a very respectable sheet, with a good deal +of its space devoted to the enlightenment of the public regarding the +natural advantages of the country, its fertility, its delightful climate +and great mineral wealth. The only thing in the shape of a newspaper +hitherto known in Nicaragua, had been a mere Government Gazette, +published once a-month or so. + +The State of Costa Rica, adjoining Nicaragua on the south, is the most +flourishing of all the Central American States. It has been for many +years free from revolution, and the people are comparatively thrifty and +industrious. The finances of the State are in a good condition, and in +military matters it is far in advance of Nicaragua, having a +well-organised militia of 4000 or 5000 men. A certain proportion of the +troops are armed with the Minié rifle, and they are well provided with +artillery. There are great numbers of Germans in the country, many of +them in the employment of Government, and it is to them that the people +are indebted for the effective state of their army. The principal +production of the country is coffee, of which the export is large, the +greater part being sent to England. The Government were in great +consternation at the success of the Walker party in Nicaragua, thinking, +no doubt, that their turn would soon come. They made active preparations +to resist invasion, but it is not likely that they will attempt to act +on the offensive. + +Honduras, which adjoins Nicaragua on the north, was favourable to the +Democratic party, and has acknowledged the Americo-Nicaraguan +Government. The president of that State lately visited Walker in +Granada; and as Honduras is threatened with a renewal of hostilities by +Guatemala, Walker is about to assist the former State with a portion of +his American forces. The fact of Walker taking half of his force from +Nicaragua to the assistance of a neighbouring State, is a convincing +proof of his confidence in the security of the position which he has +attained. In Honduras, of course, the same game will be played as in +Nicaragua. In fighting for the people, the Americans will gain the +ascendancy over them, and will keep it. + +Guatemala, which lies to the north of Honduras, is the largest and most +important of the Central American States, and is also the most hostile +to American influence. + +But whatever be the feelings of the other States towards Americans, it +is not to be supposed that, having gained the foothold they have in +Central America, they can be restrained by the weak and indolent people +by which they are surrounded from extending their dominion. In whatever +way they may come into contact, whether in war, diplomacy, or peaceful +competition in mercantile and industrial pursuits, the superior +boldness, energy, and perseverance of the Anglo-Saxon character is sure +to assert its supremacy. + +The spirit of filibusterism is not confined to any particular class of +the American community. Among the small party with which Walker +originally sailed from San Francisco were several lawyers and doctors, +and others holding a respectable position. General Walker himself is of +a respectable family in Alabama. He is about forty years of age, and is +a man of superior education, the greater part of which he received in +Europe. He originally studied medicine, but afterwards became a member +of the legal profession. For some years he conducted a newspaper in New +Orleans; but when the California excitement broke out, he went to that +country, and for some time edited a journal in San Francisco, and has +latterly been practising his profession in Marysville, a city of some +importance in the northern part of California. + +In personal appearance he is not at all what one would suppose such a +daring and successful filibuster to be, being an exceedingly quiet man, +with a mild expression of face, and very decidedly Saxon features. His +followers hold him in the utmost esteem and admiration; and his conduct, +since his accession to power in Nicaragua, has been such as to inspire +with confidence in his judgment and abilities many influential +theoretical filibusters in California, who are not likely to allow the +present flattering prospect of the realisation of their ideas to be lost +for want of support. + +He has been receiving continual accessions to his force, and now the +Americans in Nicaragua under his command amount to upwards of 900 men. + +The following article from the _San Francisco Herald_ of the 6th October +gives a very good idea of the popular feeling in favour of Walker, even +before the achievement of his success in Granada had become known. The +inefficiency of the executive to repress such a wholesale shipment of +recruits and arms is also remarkable:— + + “THE DEPARTURE OF THE WALKER REINFORCEMENTS FROM SAN FRANCISCO. + + “_Exciting Scenes along the Wharves—Ineffectual Attempt of a Party to + board the Steamer in a Sailing Vessel—Three Hundred Stand of Arms for + Walker’s Army—Proceeding in the Twelfth District Court—The Sheriff’s + Party too late—Incidents, &c._ + + “The current rumours of the past week relative to the number of + adventurers who intended to embark on the steamer Uncle Sam, to join + Walker at Nicaragua, served to attract a large crowd in the vicinity + of the steamer on the occasion of her departure yesterday. The vessel + was advertised to sail at 9 o’clock A. M., and long before that hour + Jackson Street wharf was filled with spectators and those interested + in the embarkation of the Expeditionists. It is stated that nearly + four hundred through passage tickets were sold before the appointed + sailing hour, but, as will be seen, various circumstances compelled + the agent of the line to postpone the steamer’s departure until four + o’clock P. M. Officers were stationed in every part of the vessel, + with positive orders to allow no one on board unless provided with a + passage ticket. There seemed to be no disposition to infringe this + order, and everything went on quietly until about noon, when it was + discovered that some of the passengers were in possession of arms + belonging to the ‘San Francisco Blues’ military corps. A + search-warrant was immediately procured, and twenty-nine muskets, + identified by members of the company named, were recovered. The + warrant was executed by a single officer of the police, who received + no molestation, but was permitted to make a thorough search of every + quarter of the vessel. During this investigation two large crockery + crates, full of arms, were discovered, but as the officer had no + authority to seize upon these, they were left undisturbed, although + information of the fact was immediately given to the Quartermaster, + General Kibbe of the State militia, who soon after ascertained, by + means of the telegraph wires, that the armoury of the Sacramento rifle + company had been entirely divested of every weapon and round of + ammunition. General Kibbe at once commenced suit in the Twelfth + District Court to recover the arms belonging to the State, on board + the Uncle Sam. The business of the suit was despatched with all + possible haste; but before the necessary documents could be procured + and placed in the hands of the sheriff, the hour had arrived for the + sailing of the steamer. As the lines holding the vessel to the wharf + were cast adrift, there was some indication of trouble between the + officers of the vessel and those on the wharf anxious to obtain + passage. The wharf was densely packed with men, and at the first move + of the steamer’s paddles, a general rush was made to board her. The + officers of the boat resisted, and the body of the crowd was driven + back, at the imminent risk of their being crushed between the vessel + and the wharf, or launched overboard. The scene was frightful, indeed; + but fortunately, and singularly enough, no one sustained serious + injury, as far as could be ascertained. About fifteen or twenty + succeeded in getting on board, and the vessel shot out into the + stream, where she came to, evidently with the view of compelling those + to return on shore who had succeeded in boarding the vessel by force. + By this time the expeditionists, to the number of three hundred, had + chartered a large schooner lying convenient to the wharf. This + movement was seen on board the steamer, and as the schooner spread her + canvass, the steamer’s paddles were again put in motion; but she had + not proceeded far when she again lay-to. The schooner was now under + full headway with a fine breeze, and tacking quickly, she came up + under the lee of the steamer, when she was ordered to keep off, and at + the same time the steamer commenced moving ahead. It was now beyond + the power of the schooner to work up to the position of the steamer + until the latter would have sufficient time to send the intruders + ashore and get under way again. Still the schooner persevered, and + stood off for another tack. In the meantime a posse of Sheriff’s + officers, headed by Mr Dowdigan, with the writ of restitution, had + procured a rowboat for the purpose of boarding the steamer. This they + were unable to accomplish, as the steamer got under way just as the + Sheriff’s boat reached her side. The schooner was at this time within + a few cables’ length of the steamer, but, coming up under the lee of + Telegraph Hill, the breeze died away, and all thought of boarding was + at once abandoned, as the steamer was by this time under a full head + of steam, with her bows directed seaward. The schooner landed the + disappointed expeditionists at Jackson Street wharf; and a large + number of ships’ launches and other small craft filled with men who + evidently intended to take the first opportunity to board the steamer, + put back to the shore. It would be useless to attempt a description of + the scenes along the wharves. From Jackson Street to North Point, + every place of observation was crowded with eager spectators of the + movements of the two vessels. It seemed to be the universal impression + that the schooner load would be permitted to board, as it was rumoured + that they had obtained passage tickets by some means just as the + steamer left the wharf. No foundation for this rumour could be + ascertained, and it was undoubtedly erroneous. The city Marshal, with + several policemen, remained on the steamer until she was fully under + way. Among the number who attempted to board in small boats, was a man + named Henry Gray, who strenuously persisted in his endeavours to board + the steamer, although forcibly resisted by officer Connelly. At last + Gray drew a revolver and pointed it at the officer, who also drew his + pistol, when the boatmen in the boat with Gray covered his person with + their own. Gray was subsequently arrested by the police and placed in + confinement. It is generally believed that the Uncle Sam carried away + about three hundred stand of arms for the use of Walker’s army. It is + known that a large quantity of arms and ammunition had been purchased + in this city to be sent to San Juan by this steamer. Just previous to + the sailing of the steamer it was ascertained that a number of + percussion lock muskets, belonging to the Manhattan Fire Company of + this city, were taken from the engine-house during the night. The + rifles taken from the Sacramento military company are said to be + excellent weapons, and they will, undoubtedly, be a valuable + acquisition to the armament of the Nicaragua republican troops. Many + of those who failed to procure passage on the steamer yesterday had + placed their baggage on board. This baggage will unquestionably be + landed at San Juan, and kept for them by their more fortunate comrades + until such time as they shall be successful in their endeavours to + join Walker.”—_San Francisco Herald_, Oct. 6. + +This is the way they do things in California, affording a striking +contrast to the very imposing demonstration made in New York about two +months ago in support of the neutrality laws. + +Shortly after the formation of the Walker government in Granada, a +decree was issued, granting two hundred and fifty acres of land to every +emigrant who would come and settle on and improve his grant; and in +consequence of advertisements to that effect, inserted by the Nicaraguan +government in the New York papers, great numbers of men intended sailing +for that country in the regular steamer of the Nicaragua Transit +Company. + +Proclamations were issued by President Pierce, warning the citizens not +to violate the neutrality laws; and when the steamer was on the point of +leaving the wharf, the government officers made an attempt to arrest +her. The captain, however, disregarded them, and got under way, but was +brought up, while steaming down the harbour, by two or three shots from +a man-of-war. The steamer was searched, but no evidence of the violation +of the laws was found on board of her. The company, however, requested +the assistance of the government officers in putting ashore about two +hundred men who had not paid their passage. This was done, and the +steamer went on her way, carrying two or three officers of government to +see whether, on using up the coal, some cannon might not be found at the +bottom of the coal-bunkers. + +At this time, also, Colonel French, who had resigned his seat in the +Walker cabinet as minister of the Hacienda, presented himself at +Washington as minister-plenipotentiary from the State of Nicaragua; but +the American Government refused to receive him. Colonel Wheeler, the +American minister in Nicaragua, had already formally acknowledged the +Walker government immediately on its formation, and as he visited +Washington in the month of July, it is hardly to be supposed that he +returned to his duties in Nicaragua, without acquainting himself with +the views of his Government on the course to be pursued in event of the +success of the Americans in that State. But Colonel Walker had already +so firmly established himself in Nicaragua that any want of countenance +from the American government could not weaken his position; the +President’s message also was soon about to appear, and too cordial an +acknowledgment of the Americans in Nicaragua would not have been +consistent with the tone observed in that document in regard to the +enforcement of the Clayton-Bulwer treaty. + +The Mosquito protectorate question is being practically settled by the +Mosquitians themselves. Mosquitia is a strip of land on the Atlantic +coast, part of which has always been claimed by Nicaragua, and which, +from its geographical position, seems naturally to belong to her. Since +the establishment of peace in that country, the government have sent +commissioners among the Mosquito Indians in the neighbouring parts of +Mosquitia. The natives are reported to have expressed great +dissatisfaction at the exactions of the king, and to have declared their +readiness to come under Nicaragua. So the Mosquito kingdom seems likely +to revert to Nicaragua, the State to which it originally belonged. + +The success which has attended Walker’s enterprise offers a strong +contrast to the failure of that which, for the attainment of a similar +end, was originated in New York towards the end of the year 1854. + +A company was started under the name of the Central American Land +Colonisation Company, or some such name. The ostensible object was the +colonisation and cultivation of the Mosquito territory, more especially +a certain portion known as the “Sheppard Grant,” a large tract of land +acquired by a Mr Sheppard from the King of Mosquitia. A certain Colonel +Kinney took a prominent part in the organisation of the Company, which +was supported by many capitalists in New York and other cities of the +Union. The government also professed to be favourable to the scheme, and +preparations were commenced on a large scale for carrying it out. A +great deal was said about the promotion of agriculture on the Mosquito +coast; but it was pretty generally understood by the public, that the +real object in view was to filibuster the State of Nicaragua, or at all +events to establish a depôt in that part of the world, from which, when +all should be ready, a descent upon Cuba might be conveniently made. + +At the remonstrances of the Nicaraguan minister in Washington, the +administration were compelled to open their eyes to the true nature of +the expedition. + +A great fuss was then made; proclamations were issued, warning the +people not to take part in the hostile invasion of a friendly State; a +large steamer, chartered by Colonel Kinney, and all ready to take down +several hundred agriculturists to cultivate the pestiferous swamps of +the King of Mosquitia, was seized by the authorities; several men of war +were stationed in New York harbour to watch her, and Colonel Kinney +himself was arrested and held to bail. + +Many of the supporters of the enterprise now withdrew; but Kinney was +not to be deterred; and as he could not go in his steamer with several +hundred followers, he modestly started, about the month of May, in a +small schooner, with a couple of dozen men. He was wrecked somewhere +about the West Indies, and was finally brought into Greytown, his +original destination, by an English brig, which had picked him and his +party off the rocks. + +About this time the Accessory Transit Company of Nicaragua raised a +little army in New York, on their own account, of fifty men, principally +French and German. These they sent down in one of their steamers to +Nicaragua, and stationed at Castillo, on the San Juan River, there to +stop the advance of foreign invaders. This is the French legion referred +to in the treaty of peace. + +It was given out that Kinney and his small party were only the pioneers; +that reinforcements were coming from New Orleans and other ports, but +they have never yet made their appearance; and Kinney and his men still +remain in Greytown, where, with the exception of starting a newspaper, +they have as yet done nothing. + +This Walker business in Nicaragua has been much more cleverly managed. +The Americans in that country appear in the light of men who have gone +there at the request of a party which constituted the majority of the +people. They became citizens of the State, fought for it, and have risen +to power. + +The United States have themselves been to a certain extent filibustered +in the same way. The Irish party has of late become so formidable, that +the native Americans have had to form a league to counteract the Irish +influence; and even if the American Government were opposed to the +present movement in Nicaragua, they cannot prevent individual citizens +from emigrating to, and becoming citizens of, that State. + +It cannot be doubted that the advantages to Nicaragua, in consequence of +the introduction of American influence, will be very great. + +The constant fear of revolution being removed, the people will have more +confidence in carrying on agricultural and commercial undertakings. The +Americans will do away with all the antiquated absurdities of Spanish +law, and amend a ridiculous old tariff, whereby many of the commonest +articles of civilised life have been virtually prohibited; foreign +capital will be freely employed in the cultivation of sugar, rice, +tobacco, indigo, and other valuable crops, in the production of which +Nicaragua can compete with any country in the world; and the resources +of the mining districts will be developed by energetic and experienced +miners from California. + + + + + THE SCOTTISH FISHERIES.[14] + + +The Fisheries of Scotland constitute her most valuable and important +interests, and form, in some of their features, the only really +_national_ undertaking in which our people are engaged. Of the benefits +arising from agriculture and manufactures, we have, of course, our +share; although our colder climate, and less affluent natural resources, +make our merit all the greater in reaping in both of those departments +such redundant harvests. But what is often wanting on the surface of our +sterile land, is compensated by the products of the exhaustless deep. A +hardy and athletic race is thus maintained in useful independence—a race +for whom, but for this so frequent occupation in the great waters, +nothing would now remain save expatriation or the poor’s-roll. + +When mention is made of the vast importance of our fisheries, and of +their increasing prosperity, it must, however, be in no spirit of +boastfulness, nor with any very buoyant feelings of continuous and +assured success. The fisherman’s vocation is at the best one not only of +perpetual toil, but of frequent peril; and truly, while engaged in it, +no man knows what even an hour may bring forth. The brightest day, with +its calmly glittering sea, and sky as clear in its cerulean depth as +ever fondly brooded over the “cloudless Parthenope,” may be followed by +the thick darkness of a night of storm and terror; and instead of +another gladsome sunrise, with hopeful mothers and happy children +scattered in expectant groups along some sheltered semicircular shore, +the wild waves are coursing tumultuously over the lifeless forms of many +whose places will henceforward know them no more for ever. Let any +kindly and considerate person pass even an hour or two in one of our +fishing-villages, and converse with the inhabitants, whether old or +young. Strong stalwart men of iron mould, enduring and unbending as the +gnarled oak, and in no way given to that sickly sentimentalism which we +sometimes meet with elsewhere, become softened and subdued when the dark +remembrance of some great bereavement comes back in bitterness upon +them,—in earlier life the loss of fathers and elder brothers,—in later +years that of sons and helpmates, fellow-workmen in the world of waters. +How many hearths are cold or cheerless, how many homes desolate, or the +forlorn dwellings of the widow and the fatherless! Women may be seen +seemingly intent upon the preparation of hooks and lines; but there is +not one among them that cannot tell some heart-rending tale of sudden +and unlooked-for death; and as they cast their melancholy eyes over the +then gently heaving sea, they never cease to feel, because they too +sadly know, how wrathful and ruthless is the power of that dread +destroyer. + +A seafaring people are proverbially subject to calamities of the most +fatal and almost irremediable kind, such as no exercise of skill or +caution on their own part can possibly provide against, and which befall +no class of artisans or agricultural labourers. The sea, like the land, +has also its barren and unproductive places; and even its richer fields +are not seldom those of death and desolation. Therefore, whatever tends +to ameliorate the condition of such of our people as are engaged in the +fisheries should be carefully encouraged, and any sudden, especially if +doubtful, changes in their relationship to the rest of the world, +considered with the greater caution, even although certain existing +conditions should not altogether conform to those general principles of +political economy which it might otherwise be prudent to apply. + + “The weary ploughman plods his homeward way,” + +but seldom fails to find it. The + + “Swinked hedger at his supper sits,” + +and soft is the mossy bank beneath him, and sweet the air around, +redolent with the balmy breath of flowers, and filled with the melody of +birds singing their evening hymn. How rarely does the extinction of life +from other than natural causes overtake these dwellers on the land, +compared with the frequent fate of those who do business in the great +waters! How astounded would be the natives of our inland vales, and the +shepherds on a thousand hills, if ever and anon their hitherto steadfast +and enduring boundaries were rent by earthquakes, and, literally “adding +field to field,” one fine piece of pasture was lifted up and laid upon +another, entombing for ever alike the corn and its cultivators, the +shepherds and their sheep. No very pleasant greetings in the +market-place would ensue among the grain-merchants, wool-growers, and +cattle-dealers, when the morning’s news might chance to be—that the +Lammermoors had subsided 1500 feet, and were entirely under water; that +“Eildon’s triple height” had been turned over, peaks downmost; that the +debris of Penicuik was scattered over the vestiges of Peebles; and that +the good town of Dalkeith was lying (its fine body of militiamen fast +fossilising) at the bottom of a coal-pit. Yet equally disastrous, though +not quite similar, calamities not unfrequently befall those whose +precarious lot it is to cultivate the sea. + +The formation of more commodious harbours, and of substantial and +efficient piers, and whatever other accommodation may be most required, +along our rock-bound shores, may therefore surely be regarded as +emphatically a work both of necessity and mercy, without which the +bountiful gifts of nature are either useless, or obtained at such fatal +sacrifice of life and property as it would be painful to contemplate. It +has been sometimes said, that as the coast proprietors are benefited by +an increased success of the fisheries, the duty of erecting harbours or +other shore-works is chiefly incumbent upon themselves. It is true that, +when a proprietor builds a farm-steading or a porter’s lodge, he is +bound to pay for it, as he may be presumed to reap the chief advantage, +and, at all events, is entitled to debar others from any participation +of profits. But a building which abuts into the region of the sea-shore +is so far public property, is under certain Admiralty supervision and +control, and cannot be used exclusively for individual interests, +although a reasonable power of regulation, in the way of imposing +harbour-dues, may very properly be agreed upon as between proprietors +and the public. The existence or non-existence of such works is often as +the difference betwixt life and death to those who seek some shelter +from the sea. Their construction is a great and indispensable public +benefit, and therefore necessity; and a proprietor need no more be +grudged the individual advantage which undoubtedly, and we think +fortunately, accrues to him, than he can be grudged the corresponding +advantage (which he shares with the general community) of those public +roads and bridges which intersect or span the more inland portions of +his property. It is, therefore, a very narrow and unpatriotic view which +would saddle the expense of sea-works, of whatever kind, upon the +immediate local owners of the land. Let them bear their share, as they +are assuredly much benefited by the increase of fishing or other +commercial intercourse, both as direct advantages, and as almost +necessarily leading to the improvement of property and a rise of rents; +but considering the wild and unstable nature of the elements with which +we have to deal, and the almost incalculable general benefits which +result from all such works, when skilfully planned and substantially +executed, let the public also largely and ungrudgingly join in the +required expenditure. + +As Captain Washington has well observed, it is not one or more great +harbours of refuge on our north-eastern shores that is now required. The +Bay of Cromarty, the _Portus Salutis_ of the ancients, one of the finest +and most secure harbours in the known world, lies not more than fifty +miles to the southward of Wick, while the safe anchorage of Long Hope, +in the Orkneys, is only twenty miles to the northward of that great +fishing capital of Caithness. These are accessible at all times to every +kind of shipping. But it is not so much shelter for the general trade, +as security for fishing-boats, and coasting vessels connected with the +fisheries, that is so imperatively needed. In proof of this we shall +here briefly record the great catastrophe which befell a portion of our +fishing population of the north-east coast of Scotland in the autumn of +1848. It is known that at this time upwards of 800 boats, manned by 3500 +men, were engaged in the fishery from the Wick district alone. On the +afternoon of Friday the 18th of August of that year, the majority of +these fishing-boats (all open ones) left Pulteneytown harbour soon after +high water, and remained in the Bay of Wick. Towards evening they stood +out to sea, and when about ten miles off the land, as usual, shot their +nets. The afternoon was fine, though the evening had somewhat of a +threatening aspect, yet not such as to deter a fisherman from the +pursuit of his accustomed calling. At midnight, much wind and sea having +risen, many of the boats ran for the harbour, and got safely in about +high water, which occurred at half-past one o’clock. By three in the +morning the wind had increased to a gale from the south-east, with heavy +rain. Most of the remaining boats then bore up for the Bay, which they +reached between four and five o’clock; but by this time the tide had +fallen one-half, and therefore there was not more than five feet depth +of water at the entrance of the harbour, so that, with such a sea +running, no loaded boat could enter. Some, however, made the attempt, +and were either thrown up at the back of the north quay, or wrecked on +the south pier, or swamped upon the bar. In this disastrous way 25 men +perished, besides 12 others whose boats were swamped at sea; thus, in +the brief period of about three hours, occasioning a loss of 37 men +drowned, leaving 17 widows and 60 children utterly destitute. There was +a destruction of property in boats and nets of about £1600. + +Dunbeath lies some sixteen or eighteen miles to the south-west of Wick. +It is a favourite fishing-station, and much resorted to, having about +106 boats and 410 men. Its creek is slightly protected on the east by a +promontory, and some detached rocks, which partially throw off the sea, +and direct it into the west side of the bay; but it is much exposed to +the south-west and southerly winds, and the fishermen have twice built +up a breakwater of loose stones on the south side, near the burn-mouth. +Not only is the violence of the waves to be dreaded, but after much rain +in the interior, heavy fresh-water _spates_ descend suddenly, and cause +great destruction among such boats as have not been hauled up to a place +of safety. Thus in the storm referred to, 18 boats were drifted out of +the harbour by the river flood, and were smashed upon the beach. Still +more unfortunately, a Lybster boat, while making for the harbour, was +upset, and three men drowned. + +Helmsdale, in Sutherlandshire, is fifteen miles farther to the +south-west. It has made wonderful progress within comparatively recent +years—is in a very thriving condition, and possesses some of the best +curing establishments in all Scotland. But there is great want of +accommodation both for men and boats, and the crowded state of the river +is disadvantageous. There is also a bar at its mouth, and the +harbourage, moreover, suffers much from the inland spates. During the +autumn of 1848 there were 177 boats fishing from Helmsdale. Of these, +130 put to sea on the evening of the 18th of August. In the disastrous +gale of the ensuing morning, two boats were upset while running over the +bar for the harbour, and four men were drowned. Two other boats were +either run down or foundered at sea, when 5 men perished, and another +man was washed overboard while endeavouring to haul his nets,—making a +loss of 10 lives. + +On the southern side of the Moray Firth, Buckie is known as a most +important, though exposed and almost shelterless station. It puts out +about 160 boats, and its fishermen are noted as among the most daring as +well as industrious on our coasts. They pursue the deep-sea fishing, and +so labour not during the herring harvest alone, but all the year round. +In the gale of the 19th of August, 12 of its boats were wrecked off +Peterhead, 8 were sorely damaged, and their nets carried away, while 11 +men were drowned. Port Gordon, Portessie, and Findochtie belong to the +same quarter. They lost among them 5 boats wrecked, and 10 men +drowned—making a total loss, for that limited district, of 17 boats and +21 men. + +Peterhead occupies a commanding and well-known position on a projecting +and very exposed portion of our coast, and the stations included as in +the same district, extend southwards as far as Aberdeen. It has about 60 +boats of its own, while those of the entire district amount to 262, with +920 men and boys. But while these are the numbers belonging to the +district, the actual amount at work within it, during the season of +1848, was 437 boats, employing 2185 men. Peterhead has the advantage of +both a north and south harbour, each of considerable extent. The south +harbour is dry at low water, but the outer portion of the northern has +from six to seven feet at low water of spring-tides, and eighteen feet +at high water. During the gale of the 18th and 19th of August, the boats +began to run for shelter about eleven o’clock at night, and continued to +do so until half-past three o’clock in the morning, at which time it was +high water. But while endeavouring to make the harbour, 30 boats were +totally lost, 33 were damaged and stranded, and 31 men were drowned. + +Stonehaven is the principal station of the next and more southern +district, which extends for about fifty-five miles from Girdleness to +Broughty Ferry on the Tay. This district furnishes 306 boats, manned by +1160 fishermen. Of its 23 fishing stations 17 have no piers. Findon, so +celebrated for its smoked haddocks, has 14 boats, but no pier. +Portlethen, somewhat sheltered by a ledge of rocks, has 20 boats, but no +pier. Cowie, under a similar precarious shelter, has 18 boats, but no +pier. Auchmithie, with 37 boats, and Johnshaven with 10, have nothing +like a pier. In many of these places the shore is steep and rough, with +loose though heavy shingle. The boats, when they get in safely, must +often be hauled well up for a continuance of protection. This, with +relaunching, is most laborious and exhausting work. The women labour in +and out of water, whether deep or shallow, as well as, sometimes even +more assiduously than, the men. They carry the wet nets up the steep +banks to be spread and dried, and they are not seldom seen bearing the +wearied men out of the boats upon their backs, and landing them, high +and dry, upon the beach. But these are savage customs, and lead to or +perpetuate an uncouth and indurated, if not savage life. Yet before we +can “excavate the heathens,” and ameliorate their manners, we must +excavate their beach, and build them substantial piers of stone and +lime. On the miserable morning of the 19th of August, 6 boats belonging +to this district were totally lost, and 19 men drowned. + +The following is a brief summary of the loss of life and property which +was suffered in the course of a very few hours during this disastrous +gale:— + + ┌────────────────┬────────────────┬────────────────┬────────────────┐ + │ District. │Number of boats │ Value of boats │ Number of men │ + │ │lost or damaged.│ and nets lost. │ drowned. │ + ├────────────────┼────────────────┼────────────────┼────────────────┤ + │Wick, │ 41│ £1621│ 37│ + │Lybster, │ │ 320│ │ + │Helmsdale, │ 24│ 800│ 13│ + │Peterhead, │ 51│ 3820│ 31│ + │Stonehaven, │ 8│ 450│ 19│ + ├────────────────┼────────────────┼────────────────┼────────────────┤ + │Total loss,[15] │ 124│ £7011│ 100│ + └────────────────┴────────────────┴────────────────┴────────────────┘ + +A calamity so great and sudden forcibly drew the public attention to the +subject, and the Lords of the Admiralty were induced ere long to depute +Captain Washington to inquire into and report regarding it. His report +was printed by order of the House of Commons, and contains many most +valuable observations and suggestions.[16] We cannot here enter into +technical details, but may quote one of his concluding paragraphs. + + “In reviewing the evidence adduced on the present inquiry, it cannot + fail to strike the most cursory reader that the want of good harbours, + accessible at all times, is the grand cause of the loss of life and + property, and the increased risk connected with our fisheries. It is + not the construction of two or more large central harbours (as has + been suggested) that is wanted, but a general deepening and + improvement of all the existing harbours and rivers along the whole + eastern coast of Scotland. Nor would the improvement of these harbours + be attended with any very considerable outlay. _It is scarcely + credible that the small sum of £2500 a-year, which Parliament has + devoted_ [through the Board of Fisheries] _to building harbours and + piers in Scotland for the last few years, should have given so great a + stimulus to important local improvements as those grants are found to + have done._ But they are quite inadequate to grapple in earnest with + the want which exists: four times their amount, or £10,000 a-year for + a few years, steadily laid out on piers and harbours, would do much to + remedy the want, and to place the fishermen of the east of Scotland on + a par with those of more favoured coasts. It would be an act of mercy + to a race of hardy, industrious, frugal men—to 10,000 fishermen of one + of the poorest and most unproductive districts of Scotland, who are + not at sea as occasional passers-by, but are constantly hovering off + the coast in pursuit of their calling for three months together, + exposed to the suddenness and violence of north-east gales—such as + that of August 1845, and again in August 1848—without the common + shelter that all mariners are entitled to look for in the hour of + need.”—_Report_, p. xvii. + +Here we seem to have a distinct statement of what is most required,—an +equally distinct recognition of the great benefits which have already +resulted from small means,—and a strong recommendation of a large +increase of those means, to be administered, we may presume, through the +same medium and machinery as heretofore employed, and of which Captain +Washington so much approves. + +The harbour of Lybster lies in a sheltered situation, about half-way +between Wick and Helmsdale. The best localities for the herring fishery +are only a few miles off; and it had thus risen from a creek, scarcely +navigable by small boats, to a fishing-station of very considerable +importance. More than twenty years ago, Mr Sinclair, the proprietor, +erected a pier on the west side of the harbour, at an expense of about +£7000. Above 100 herring-boats were in use to frequent it during the +season; many coasting vessels entered in; the quay-dues produced a +revenue of £130, and a large and thriving village became established. +All this time the harbour accommodation was limited and incommodious, +consisting only of the channel of the river; and its increase of trade +cannot be explained in any other way than by the safety experienced by +boats in consequence of the entrance being well protected from the worst +and most prevailing winds. Such being the case, Capt. Washington thought +it highly desirable to profit by the advantages which nature had +bestowed upon this creek; “or rather,” he observes, “it becomes an +imperative duty to do so, when we consider the number of lives +endangered, and the value of the property at stake, on the sudden +springing up of an easterly gale, such as that of August 1845, and again +in August 1848, which strewed the coast of Caithness with wrecks.” We +may add, that the Lybster district comprises also Occumster, Clyth, +Latheronwheel, Forse, &c., and that these places yielded, during the few +weeks’ continuance of the fishing of 1854, as many as 41,550 barrels of +herrings. In consequence of Captain Washington’s recommendation, and +other patriotic influences, the Treasury advised a grant of £6000 for +the improvement of the harbour of Lybster. The sum was voted by +Parliament, and has since been successfully administered under the +superintendence of the Board of Fisheries. The advantageous effects of +this well-managed grant are manifest from the following facts. The +number of boats that fished from the old harbour of Lybster in 1850 was +97, but the number that has fished from it since the basin was enlarged, +is 174 boats in 1853, and 171 boats in 1854. But the difference in mere +numbers of these two years, as compared with 1850, does not exhibit the +actual alteration and improvement; for since the disastrous gale of +1848, the boats have almost every year been of larger build—so much so, +that the fishermen consider that the old harbour would not have held +above 80 boats of the existing size, and that 180 of these boats are now +harboured in greater safety than 80 could have formerly been. The amount +of fishermen employed in 1848 was 418; during the past season (1855) it +was 920. Had this increased accommodation existed in 1848, there is no +saying what saving of life and property might have been accomplished. +During the gale so frequently referred to, of the 34 boats which fished +from Forse, 9 were totally lost, with all their nets, and 11 were +severely damaged. Some of those Forse boats did, however, run for +Lybster, and were saved; and all would have done so, but from the fear +of want of room. It was this fear, unfortunately, that induced one of +the Lybster boats, as already mentioned, to run for Dunbeath, where she +was totally wrecked, and three of her crew drowned. + +Our notices have hitherto been of a very casual kind, drawn out by the +sympathy which cannot but be felt for the disastrous death of intrepid +men and the destruction of property, which inevitably leads to such +severe and long-continued suffering on the part of the survivors, haply +but little thought of during the first wild wailings of the widow and +the fatherless. But poverty sorely embitters grief; and the amount of +prolonged misery involved by destitution so often consequent on death, +can be in no way conveyed by the mere recital of the facts, however +harrowing these may be. But it is cheering to know that the occasional +disbursement of sums, which, to the greatest maritime nation that ever +existed on earth, or made its undisputed home upon the deep, are only as +a few grains of sand to the shores of the immeasurable sea, may produce +the most obvious, immediate, and permanent advantage, and actually go +far to convert a life of danger and difficulty into one of comparative +security and ease. In reference to this view of the subject Captain +Washington has well observed:— + + “Besides the invaluable boon on this (the Caithness) coast of a + harbour that might be fearlessly run for at all times of tide, and + within which the fisherman might land his cargo immediately on his + arrival, and rest quietly at his home until the moment of sailing + arrives (instead of the anxious hours now often spent off a harbour’s + mouth, waiting for the rise of tide), such a harbour would probably + lead to a larger and safer class of fishing-boats (those now in use + being adapted to a shallow dry harbour), and induce the fishermen to + follow the deep-sea fishing all the year round, instead of merely the + herring fishery for the season; and thus cultivate habits of steady + industry and occupation, which could not but be beneficial to himself, + his family, and the community.”—_Report_, p. viii. + + “Nor could such an outlay,” he afterwards adds, “be considered in any + other light than as sound economy. By the exertions of the British + Fisheries Society, and of individuals, a vast public interest has been + created on this coast within the last half-century. A fishing village + has been raised into a comparatively opulent town, wealth has been + diffused, and civilisation has followed in its wake. The example here + set has had a most beneficial influence on a large portion of the + Highlands and islands of Scotland, and habits of industry and the best + mode of fishing have been taught to the Highlander. The large amount + of 126,000 barrels of herrings, or one-fifth of the whole produce of + the Scottish fisheries, was cured at Wick during the past year, in + addition to 12,000 barrels otherwise consumed.[17] The total value of + the boats, nets, and lines employed exceeded £61,000, while the + catching and curing the fish occupied 5600 persons; and the carrying + of salt, and the export of the fish to Ireland and the European + markets, gave occupation to 16,700 tons of shipping. _These are great + public interests, which are entitled to be considered._ They are the + results of spirited enterprise that may fairly claim to be encouraged, + not by bounties and protection duties, but by placing these + industrious and hardy Caithness fishermen, as far as possible, on a + level with those of more favoured coasts, by the construction of a + low-water harbour, to which they may confidently resort in the hour of + need.”—Ibid. p. ix. + +There can be no doubt that the formation of a capacious, easily +accessible, and well-sheltered low-water harbour, in a central portion +of the great fishing district of the north-east of Scotland would be of +infinite advantage; but it is equally certain (and Captain Washington, +as we have already shown, is likewise of that opinion) that the +improvement and increase of the smaller, even the creek harbours, and +the precarious piers of such as have any such erections, would be of +incalculable service. It is a well-known fact, and one worthy of being +held in remembrance, that during the lamentable gale of the 19th of +August 1848, thirty boats ran for Keiss Bay, where there is a harbourage +built or enlarged by the Board of Fisheries, and were saved. We may here +add, what is well known, that where there are no harbours, the boats +must be drawn up and beached in creeks and bays. Their size, therefore, +in these cases, corresponds not to the wilderness of waves which they +have to encounter, but to the nature of the situation on which they can +be drawn up and placed in safety. We thus frequently find a great +contrast between the size of boats where harbours or other sheltering +fabrics have been built, and those frequenting places where there are +none. It is also well known that the boats engaged in the cod and ling +fisheries, &c., now require to proceed farther out to sea than formerly; +and as they are necessarily constructed of a larger size, and so draw +more water, they also need deeper harbourage than of old. + +We may now briefly notice the commercial value of our fisheries. The +capital embarked in the trade is not less than _two millions seven +hundred and thirty thousand pounds_. It is chiefly distributed among a +people inhabiting wild and barren districts of the country, where the +climate is cold and moist, employment precarious, labour poorly paid, +and all creature-comforts few and far between. Their real resources lie +in the sea, the products of which, unlike the _cereals_, are fortunately +not very materially affected by a somewhat cloudy and uncomfortable +climate. Many years ago, views of this kind were propounded by a +Scotchman, Mr David Loch, the father, we believe, of the late lamented +M.P. for the Wick burghs. He writes rather critically regarding the +natives of the _Western_ Highlands:— + + “I am sorry to observe that the fishing is greatly neglected at this + and the harvest seasons, as most of the people are farmers as well as + fishermen; so that their time being divided between the two branches, + the great object, fishing, has not that time and attention paid to it + which is absolutely necessary. It is true that the country is not + unfavourable to the breeding of sheep, not only on account of the + pasture in general, but also as the snow never remains long on the + ground; and as the farmers, very judiciously, use no tar, they sell + their wool at 14s. the stone. The fisheries, however, should be their + first care; and I declare, from my own knowledge, that a few boats’ + crews of our east-country fishers would make rich here, and realise + more money than half the farmers in this quarter. What a pity it is + the inhabitants should be so blind to their own interest, and neglect + to avail themselves of the advantages which their local situation + offers to them! A boat’s crew of six men would make more money in one + month than any farmer here can off the produce of a hundred acres of + his best arable land, after deducting the value of the seed and the + expenses attending its culture; and the former could, from the + proceeds of their fish, furnish themselves with meal, flour, malt, + barley, and vivers of every kind, on easier and much better terms than + the latter can possibly raise and supply themselves with from their + own farms. _Fish_ is the natural produce of their seas, with which + they abound, and to which they are contiguous; and _grass_, for + pasturing sheep and black cattle, the natural produce of their lands. + Nature, in denying them the means (of grain culture), has given them + the fisheries, which is their natural staple, and is more than an + equivalent for the deprivation of the other.”[18] + +A higher and more recent authority, Sir John M‘Neill, G.C.B., Chief +Commissioner of the Poor Law Board for Scotland, has borne corresponding +testimony to the value of our fisheries, and their great advance during +our own days. In reference to the county of Caithness, he observes:— + + “Nearly the whole sea-coast of the county, including the towns of + Thurso and Wick, is inhabited by persons more or less directly + dependent upon the fisheries. In the rural parts, the fishermen have + generally attached to their dwellings small farms or lots as they are + called, varying in extent from two to ten acres of arable land. These, + however, do not afford them the chief part of their subsistence. They + rely upon the fisheries, and regard the cultivation of their lots as a + secondary and comparatively unimportant part of their business. + + “At the end of the last century, the value of the cured fish annually + exported from Caithness did not exceed £13,000, and it then consisted + almost exclusively of salmon. The cured herring, cod, and ling, + exported from Wick and Lybster for the last ten years, gives an + average annual value of not less than £130,000, according to the + Returns of the Board of Fisheries. The annual value of the whole land + in the county was returned in 1843 at £66,000. The population in 1841 + was 36,343. + + “The Caithness fisheries have thus not only become a source of + prosperity to the county, but have also become an object of national + importance; and their further extension appears to be in a great + measure dependent upon the increase of suitable harbour accommodation + for the boats engaged in them. Harbours, more or less secure, have + been formed from time to time at different creeks along the coast, + from Wick southward, and the number of boats appears to have increased + in the ratio of the accommodation provided for them. There is no + reason to believe that the limit has yet been reached, or that, if the + harbour accommodation were increased, the fisheries, more especially + of herring, would not receive a corresponding development. But even + now the population of the county is not nearly sufficient to supply + the demand for hands during the fishing season, and some thousands of + men from the west coast, find in Caithness, during that season, + employment and wages, without which they could not subsist. The + increase of harbour accommodation in Caithness, besides increasing the + general amount of production, would thus afford additional employment + to the inhabitants of the West Coast and Islands of Inverness, Ross, + and Sutherland, who frequent the east coast fisheries because they + cannot find sufficient employment at home.”[19] + +We may add in connection with the above, that about 10,000 Highlanders +pass across from west to east during the continuance of the autumnal +fishery, in which they find, for the time being, their sole refuge from +destitution. It is estimated that from 7000 to 10,000 Highland women of +the poorest class, and otherwise most forlorn condition, are likewise +beneficially employed in gutting and packing herrings. + +Great improvement and increased activity have been manifested in the +fisheries of late years, and the facilities afforded by steam-navigation +and the formation of railways have no doubt given a decided impulse to +that department, as to so many other branches of commercial occupation. +The value of our _materials_ alone, in the way of boats, netting, and +lines, now amounts to upwards of £580,000, minutely portioned out as the +property, we need scarcely say in many cases the sole property, of a +very poor though industrious part of the population.[20] There are +nearly 11,000 boats employed in the Scotch fisheries (including a few +hundred from the Isle of Man), giving permanent employment to about +40,000 fishermen, besides occupying, as coopers, gutters, and labourers, +towards 30,000 other persons. Of the higher class of merchants or +fish-curers, there are considerably above 1100 engaged in the trade.[21] + +In estimating the money-value of the products of the Scotch fisheries, +each barrel of cured herrings may be regarded as equivalent to £1, 1s. +The price is sometimes higher, as in 1854, when it often reached to £1, +4s.; but it is also occasionally lower, when there is a large stock in +hand, and the foreign markets are sluggish. The fishing trade is more +than most others liable to fluctuations,—the supply itself varying from +glut to scarcity. Thus the average profits are probably very moderate to +all concerned. But taking the sum first mentioned as a fair price, it +has been ascertained, that, upon the most moderate computation, the +herring fishery of 1855 will produce— + + Of cured herrings, £700,000 + Of fresh herrings, 150,000 + ———————— + £850,000 + +The price, however, of cured fish being actually up, and as the returns +of fresh fish are always much below the mark, we are informed, on the +best authority, that the real value of the preceding season’s capture +will exceed _one million_ sterling. This is a great thing for so poor a +country, and especially for the poorer classes of that country. That our +wealthier neighbours over the Border are made large partakers in our +scaly spoils, is obvious from what appears to us to be a remarkable +though distinctly ascertained fact, that in the course of a few weeks of +last season, _5053 tons of fresh herrings_ were transmitted, chiefly +southwards, from the Dunbar district, by the North British Railway +alone. The _take_ of herrings in 1849, for Scotland and the Isle of Man, +was 942,617 barrels. The season of 1853 was also very productive, +yielding, exclusive of the English stations, 908,800 barrels. + +Of the cured fish a very considerable portion is exported to Ireland and +the Continental kingdoms. Thus during the immediately preceding season +(fishing of 1855), it is estimated that out of a total cure of 705,109 +barrels, 100,000 barrels were sent to Ireland, and 338,360 barrels to +the Continent. To Stettin alone we have this year exported close upon +155,000 barrels, almost all guaranteed as in prime condition, and +skilfully cured, by means of the Fishery crown brand impressed by +burning on the staves. This process of branding is regarded as of great +importance by the foreign merchants, more especially by such as have +afterwards occasion to consign their stock to others for inland +transportation. The crown brand is our Government official mark, and +testifies that the contents have been carefully examined and approved of +by the appointed Fishery officer of the district where the fish were +caught and cured; and so great is the confidence now placed in the skill +and integrity of these experienced and faithful functionaries, that +barrels so marked pass from hand to hand, without examination, into the +very heart of Europe, and onwards to the shores of the Black Sea. We +need scarcely say how deteriorated the contents would be if the barrels +were opened and the fish inspected, as they passed from country to +country, or from one purchaser to another. By the present practice this +loss is avoided, and great advantage gained. + +A single sentence may suffice for cod and ling. Stornoway in Lewis, and +the Orkney and Shetland Islands, are the chief stations for these fine +fish. In 1854 the amount cured at these and the other places in the +north was 115,850 _hundredweight_. Besides these, there were caught and +disposed of _fresh_, 58,042 hundredweight. The quantity of individual +fish of the cod and ling kind, killed in the north of Scotland during +the season of 1854, was _three million five hundred and twenty-three +thousand two hundred and sixty-nine_. Of these, 1,385,699 were caught +off the Shetland Islands. What a boon to a people who can scarcely grow +grain, and cannot live on grass! + +The preceding facts seem, on the whole, to indicate a rather pleasant +and prosperous condition of affairs, for which we ought to be +unfeignedly thankful, and with which it might not be deemed advisable to +intermeddle, at least in the way of sudden and unsought-for change. + +Our fishery affairs, we may now observe, are at present managed, so far +as legal rules and regulations are concerned, by a certain number of +Commissioners, who constitute the “Board of Fisheries.”[22] The +functions of that Board are chiefly as follows: To obtain for Parliament +accurate statistical returns of the cod and herring fisheries,—of the +seafaring and other persons employed in those occupations,—of the +number, computed tonnage, value, &c., of the boats and other vessels +engaged, and to give clearances for the same. In the herring fishery, to +see that the measures for the delivery of fresh herrings, as between +purchaser and seller, are of the legal standard size; and when the fish +are cured, to ascertain that the barrels in which they are packed are of +the full dimensions, and not fraudulently made, and to apply the +official mark, called the Crown Brand, to whatever barrels contain +herrings so cured and packed, and of such superior quality as to entitle +them to receive it; to enforce the fishery convention between Great +Britain and foreign countries, and guard the coast of Scotland against +the intrusion of foreigners during the fishing season; to act likewise +as a home police among the multitudinous masses of fishermen and other +natives collected for the herring fishery along the coast, or in the +numerous narrow firths and sea-lochs of our country, where there is +often scarcely room to hold them; and to see that the boats in all such +cases take up their proper stations, so as to prevent fouling of gear, +and unseemly, sometimes dangerous, brawls; finally, to erect piers and +quays, and to make and maintain harbours on the coasts with aid from the +proprietors and fishermen, with whom the Commissioners are in frequent +communication, and to protect the boats and property in those harbours. + +Of course these important and multifarious duties cannot be performed +but at some expense; yet when we consider the deep interests involved, +the vast capital embarked, the steady and increasing occupation of a +remunerative kind afforded to so great a mass of our poorer population, +and the difficulties and dangers which naturally beset this adventurous +calling, we think the sum is very small compared with the advantages +which its expenditure insures. The police department, especially on the +western shores and islands, is chiefly maintained by the Princess Royal +cutter, of about 103 tons burden, and a crew of 20 men and boys, +including an experienced commander, and mate. This vessel is under the +exclusive control of the Board. During the height of the fishing season, +one or more small steam-vessels are placed by the Admiralty under the +direction of the Board, and one of these vessels is usually continued in +the Firth of Forth, for the protection of the winter fishing, so +frequent there. The entire coast is divided into districts amounting, +with the Orkney and Shetland Islands, to 22 in number, managed by a +general Inspector, and 25 resident officers, whose sole occupation +consists in the direction and encouragement of whatever may tend to the +improvement and increase of the fisheries, and their products. It is +imperative that these men should themselves have served for three years +in the practical performance of the cooper’s art. They are selected on +account of their probity, sobriety, assiduity, and intelligence, and +they are not raised to be the responsible officers of a district till +they have acquired the requisite knowledge, and given proof of their +capability, as assistants and nominees, for the higher situations. They +reside among, and habitually mingle with the people of the fishing +stations, and keep up a friendly and uninterrupted intercourse with +them. That they skilfully and faithfully fulfil their functions, may be +inferred from the very few instances in which, during a long continuous +course of years, and almost countless series of transactions, any +complaint of defective cure in any barrel bearing the brand has ever +been presented to the Board. + +The mere bestowal of the brand is, however, by no means the sole, though +it is the final act of those officials. They are on the alert wherever +fish are landed from the exhaustless deep. They encourage and hasten the +immediate application of the most approved modes of handling, assorting, +gutting, rousing, salting, re-pickling, packing, filling up after +sinking, and so on, and are thus actively engaged among all the various +classes of people, whether of the sea or shore, explaining what is +right, and checking what is wrong, from the first moment that the fish +are landed from the boats, like glittering and gorgeous heaps of silver, +till the full barrels are finally fixed down, and the brand applied. +They also ascertain that the measures used as between the fishermen and +the curers, and between the curers and the public, are properly +constructed, and of just dimensions. To do this effectively, in a +station such as that of Wick, where many hundred large boats are +discharging their almost living freight nearly at the same time, it is +obvious that energy, activity, and considerable sharp-sightedness, are +indispensable to see that all is open and above board among such an +innumerable and multifarious crew from all quarters,—counting among +them, no doubt, as in all other trades, those who are not so scrupulous +as to debar their being somewhat greedy of gain. We have been told, from +the highest source, of how many evils that fatal though frequent passion +is the root. + +The expenses of the Board, as above constituted, are the following. +There is a special grant of £3000 (by Act of Parliament) for the +erection of piers and quays, or other harbour-work. There is a further +sum granted, by the annual votes of supply, of £11,000 for the general +expenses of the Board, their head office in Edinburgh, their +establishment of district officers throughout the country, the general +superintendence of the fisheries, and the maintenance of the cutter and +her crew. The Commissioners of the Board act gratuitously. We presume +that the functionaries last alluded to, although unpaid, assiduously +perform the duties required of them, and to which they are pledged. The +following is Mr John Shaw Lefevre’s testimony in their favour, as well +as in advocation of the continuance both of the brand and Board:— + + “Having arrived at the conviction of the necessity of maintaining at + present the system of branding herrings, it appears to me that this + would of itself require the continuance of the Fishery Board, + independently of the question of the general utility of that + establishment. I conceive that the superintendence of that system, and + of the officers conducting it, could not be better or more + satisfactorily executed than by that Board, which is thoroughly + conversant with the subject, as respects the Scotch fisheries, to + which the branding system is practically limited, and far more + conveniently situated than any Central Board in London. + + “Having had the opportunity of inspecting the correspondence and + proceedings of this Board, it would be unjust not to take this + opportunity of adverting to the important services which the + Commissioners, acting themselves gratuitously, and with a moderate + establishment, have rendered to the public in assisting for a long + period of years in the development of this branch of national + industry, and of expressing my belief, that, in the present condition + of the poorer classes in Scotland, the question of the continuance of + the Board of Fisheries is not merely to be regarded in reference to + measures of economy,—that it is impossible to doubt the social and + moral advantages which may and do result to this class of the + population, from the attention bestowed upon their welfare by a body + of eminent persons, distinguished by their rank, position, and + knowledge, and who are constantly endeavouring to obtain and + disseminate information useful to those employed in the fisheries, to + encourage their enterprise, to stimulate their industry, and to + promote their physical and moral welfare.” + +We quite agree with Mr Lefevre in the opinion expressed above, and +especially in his belief that a Scotch Board, necessarily conversant +with the subject of the Scotch fisheries, will exercise a more effective +and satisfactory superintendence, and perform its functions much more +conveniently and economically, than could any board in London, so far +removed from the scene of action. + +The general importance of our present subject is too obvious and +admitted to be argumentatively insisted on. If we have writ our annals +true, it cannot be doubted that the British fisheries, as the great +nursery for seamen of habitual hardihood, and fearless of “the +lightning, the fierce winds, the trampling waves,” are altogether +invaluable, and, in a national point of view, far transcend the mere +direct pecuniary advantages, however great, which may so easily be shown +to spring from them. It is long since Sir Henry Wotton maintained that +there was something even in the capture of fish, viewed simply as a +trade, which tended to improve the moral, if not the intellectual +character of men, and to bring them up for the most part a humane as +well as hardy race; and more recently, Baron Cuvier, so well acquainted +with both man and beast, and every other thing that dwells on this +terraqueous globe, has recorded his opinion, that all nations possessed +of any sea-coast where the herring occurs, have given great +encouragement to its capture, wisely regarding that occupation as the +most natural nursery for the bringing up of robust men, intrepid +sailors, and skilful navigators, and so of the highest importance in the +establishment of maritime greatness. Lacepede goes so far as to regard +the herring as “une de ces productions dont l’emploi décide de la +destinée des empires.” We know that during the palmiest days of the +States-General, out of a population of 2,400,000 persons, 450,000 were +either fishermen, or connected with the building and equipment of ships +and boats pertaining to the fisheries; and so the Pensionary De Witt was +not far wrong when he stated that every fifth man in Holland earned his +subsistence by the sea, and that the herring fishery might be regarded +as the right hand of the republic. Indeed, the Dutch nation, so wary, +considerate, and persevering, have always admitted that their wealth and +strength resulted from the sea; and hence the old saying still in use +among them, that the “foundation of Amsterdam was laid on +herring-bones.” + +Seeing, then, that we are surrounded by so great a mass of witnesses, +testifying to the importance of this trade, and knowing to what height, +after so many years of toil and trouble, we have now attained, ought we +to put in peril our present most advantageous position, by venturing +upon any fanciful alteration of that familiar machinery which has +hitherto worked so well? + +It is, however, rumoured that Government proposes, we presume by way of +mending these matters, to abolish the Board of Fisheries, collect the +statistics, and exercise the superintendence, after some other fashion, +cast the brand into oblivion, withdraw the grant for the building of +piers and quays, and so dispense, _in toto_, with the advice, +assistance, or intervention of the old and experienced authorities. This +proposal, of course, proceeds upon the assumption that the brand may now +be advantageously done away with, and the principle adopted which has so +long been applied to the linen and woollen manufactures, which are not +now stamped officially, but depend for preference on the character and +merits of each particular maker. We understand it to be alleged, that +this so-called sounder system should be applied to the Scotch fisheries, +with a view to assimilate them, so far, to those of Ireland. We shall +now consider this proposal, which, we need scarcely say, has sorely +perplexed and alarmed the people of our coasts. They almost feel as if +the fate foretold by the Prophet Isaiah was now in store for them, and +that the time is at hand, when “the fishers also shall mourn, ... and +they that spread nets upon the waters shall languish.”—Isa. xix. 8. + +We shall now, as briefly as we can, take up the subject under the +different heads into which it naturally divides itself. + +In the first place, we can bear testimony, from personal knowledge, to +the fact, that great importance is attached by our fishing population to +the existence of the Board. They view it as a body to whom they can have +easy access, through the resident Fishery officers at the various +stations. Their impression is that their interests are cared for by it, +and hence their willingness, in cases of difference or dispute, to be +regulated by the friendly interposition of the official superintendents. +Innumerable cases might be cited of aid afforded by the captain and crew +of the Princess Royal fishery cutter, as well as by the effective +influence and authority of the naval superintendent, with his Queen’s +ship. But the great advantage of the former vessel is, that she is under +the entire control of the Board for the whole year, whereas the +war-steamer is only given for a time, and is of course always under +Admiralty orders. There is also additional benefit found to flow to the +Highland population of our insular and other western shores, from the +easy intercourse they can have with the Gaelic-speaking boats’ crew of +the cutter, compared with the utter and irremediable absence of all +intelligible intercourse, which not unfrequently occurs, between that +population and the unalloyed Saxons of a steamship from the south. + +We doubt not that the Board of Fisheries believes itself, and on good +ground, to be, from the very nature of its constitution, in a more +favourable position than any other body of men can be, to ascertain and +judge of the local requirements of parties applying for additional +accommodation in the way of piers and quays. Their accurate statistical +returns enable them to know whether a given station is on the increase +or otherwise, and their local officers having necessarily an intimate +acquaintance with the character of the fishing population of each +district, can testify to their activity and success. They can thus give +information which it would be extremely difficult to obtain in any other +way, but without which the propriety of erecting, or repairing and +extending, any of these shore-works, could not be so satisfactorily +determined. + +In respect to the proposal to assimilate the Scotch to the _Irish_ +fisheries, we believe the fact to be, that the Irish _Herring_ Fishery +has actually no existence as a national undertaking. Let any one read +over the _Reports_ of the Irish Commissioners, and he will perceive at +once that their functions are confined almost exclusively to the +regulation and improvement of the _Inland Fisheries_; that is, those of +salmon and white trout. Any mention of herrings is, in truth, of the +most casual and unimportant kind. There is, no doubt, a somewhat regular +herring fishery off a portion of the eastern coast of Ireland, the boats +sailing, for the time being, to and from the harbour of Howth. But it is +very well known to every person in any way conversant with the subject, +that these boats consist of about 140 from St Ives, in Cornwall, of +towards 100 from the Isle of Man, and of some 20 from Campbeltown in the +west of Scotland. Scarcely any native Irish boats frequent that fishery. +We believe that a few come off from Arklow,—we presume very few, as they +are not enumerated by the Irish Commissioners. These Commissioners, +however, state, that of all the boats above mentioned, the Scotch “are +invariably the most successful,” owing to the superior nature of their +nets, and no doubt more skilful mode of management. So backward, in +truth, is the condition of the Irish herring fishery, and those +connected with it, compared with the Scotch and its conductors, that a +very few seasons ago a set of cooper’s tools for the manufacture of +barrels could not be found at any curing-station in all Ireland, and +there had to be sent over from Scotland, at the request of Mr Ffennel, +one of the Irish Inspecting Commissioners, a few skilled artisans, with +the necessary implements, to instruct the establishments of the sister +isle, and aid those concerned in their pursuit of knowledge under +difficulties. Now, we should certainly be very sorry to be assimilated +to anything of that kind, although we can easily conceive that the +assimilation of the Irish fisheries to those of Scotland would be of +great advantage to the former. + +We are willing to make every allowance for the difference in the +character and disposition of the Scotch and Irish (although the majority +of the one, so far as _fishers_ are concerned, are as _Celtic_ as the +other), and for many disturbing elements in the Green Isle which do not +so deeply and fatally pervade the social state of our own people; but +still, where we find, on the one hand, a most important branch of +commerce long established and maintained in security, and now on the +increase from year to year, and on the other a desponding if not +decreasing condition of affairs, carried on with little energy and no +success,—there seems nothing unreasonable in the supposition, that +management and methodical regulation, a long-continued course of +instruction, an unceasing supervision, and encouragement both by precept +and example, to work up and attain to a higher standard of excellence +than heretofore, may have produced the most beneficial effect in the +former case; while the absence of such ameliorating causes, and of all +counteractions of apathy and ignorance, may have been injurious in the +latter. The Scotch fishermen and fish-curers have experienced, and still +enjoy, the advantages referred to,—the Irish have not been deprived of +them, because they never had them in possession. The Scotch herring +fishery is by far the greatest and most successful in the world,—the +Irish is unfortunately the smallest and least prosperous on the waters +of the known earth; and why should we seek to assimilate the two by +adding much to nothing, rather than by endeavouring to create something +out of nothing, and thus increasing the previously existing stores of +national wealth? Of course, we know not with certainty what effect would +follow the formation along the still unproductive Irish shores of a +machinery in accordance with the system which has proved so signally +successful along the wild coasts of much more barren and ungenial +Scotland; but we think it would surely be a wiser and more generous +policy to try the experiment of assimilation, rather by endeavouring to +raise up Ireland to what it ought to be, than run the risk of bringing +the two countries into somewhat similar condition, by sacrificing any of +the few advantages which Scotland now enjoys. + +If the accurate ascertainment of the statistics of the land is now +deemed of such vital importance, surely that of the sea, to this great +maritime and commercial nation, is no way less so. This brings us to the +consideration of the performance of another important duty of the Board, +the advantages of which we should of course lose on its abolition. Our +marine and fishery statistics have been hitherto collected with great +fulness and accuracy by the officers of the Board, and annually reported +to Parliament. On the demolition of the Board, who are to perform the +same functions in time to come? If the coast-guard is to be so employed, +as it is in Ireland, let us briefly inquire into the well-doing of that +system there. + +In reference to the marine statistics of the sister isle, as collected +and transmitted by the coast-guard, the Irish Fishery Commissioners +report as follows:— + + “The doubts which we have expressed in former reports of the accuracy + of the tabular returns, which are founded upon information furnished + by the coast-guard department, are, we regret to state, undiminished. + Several cases in which we have endeavoured to test their correctness, + have convinced us that _not even an approximate estimate_ can be + formed of the actual extent and state of the fishing establishment on + the coast. From any sources within our reach, unaided by anything like + a responsible staff, _we are unable to obtain the necessary + information_, or to effect that perfect organisation of the coast + which would tend to the promotion of the fisheries and the + preservation of order—an object of vital importance to the + well-working of the fisheries, as well as to the peace of the country. + + “We have in our department but one clerk, whose duties are sometimes + necessarily extended to visiting distant stations for the promulgation + of by-laws, or for other purposes; and on such occasions we have + required of him to furnish us with a statement of his progress. His + reports prove how exceedingly valuable the services of qualified + persons would be, instead of the desultory and unsatisfactory + information which we are enabled to procure from irresponsible + persons, who are bound to make our business quite subordinate to their + more important duties. We subjoin a copy of the circular and queries + which we issue annually to the coast-guard department; and in most + cases we find that five out of the seven questions asked are either + not answered at all, or in a manner not calculated to afford much + information.”[23] + +In a subsequent report the Inspecting Commissioners state, in relation +to the Belmullet district, which extends from Duna Head to Butter Point, +that the diminution in the number of boats and hands is so great as to +seem quite incredible. They attribute this not so much to the actual +decrease, as to the erroneous and exaggerated information formerly +received. “There are no first-class boats, and only 190 second class, +with 676 men and boys, instead of the former establishment, which was +stated to have been 962 vessels, with 3376 men and boys. This clearly +proves the great inaccuracy of former returns.”[24] + +In the most recent report of the Irish Commissioners the following is +the conclusion come to:— + + “We cannot conclude this report on the coast fisheries of Ireland + without expressing our deep regret that we are not furnished with data + which would enable us to supply accurate statistical information as to + the physical resources which may be found upon our shores for purposes + of national defence. The encouragement of our coast fisheries used in + former times to be considered the most effectual and legitimate means + of providing for our navy.... In France we are told that the whole + commercial navy—masters, mates, sailors, and shipboys—are under the + eye and jurisdiction of the Minister of Marine;—nay, every fisherman, + waterman, ferryman, oyster-dredger, and boat-builder is registered. We + very much wish that we had been enabled to establish even a less + perfect system of organisation, but we find ourselves more deficient + in means of obtaining accurate information every succeeding year; and + we entertain little hopes that, until the present plan of registry is + much improved, we can ever attempt to present returns the accuracy of + which we could vouch for.”[25] + +We do not think that the preceding extracts are encouraging, or hold out +any great inducement to assimilate our established mode of marine +statistical collection to that of Ireland. Far better to abide as we +are, and “let well alone.” It may also be borne in mind, that so far as +the north-west portions of Scotland, with their numerous and +deeply-indented fishing-bays, are concerned, there is actually no +coast-guard in existence. + +A single paragraph may suffice in regard to the general marine +superintendence, or police duties, as exercised by the Board of +Fisheries. These duties are chiefly performed by boats’ crews from the +Princess Royal fishery cutter. We may refer to the fact that the Chamber +of Commerce of Wick apply each season to the Board for a boat’s crew to +be stationed at Wick, for the purpose of preserving order in the fleet +of fishing-boats assembled in that overcrowded mart; and that the +results are invariably so successful and satisfactory, that no +complaints of brawling or contention are ever made. On the contrary, the +Chamber of Commerce seems annually to express and record its grateful +acknowledgments to the Board for its efficient services in this +particular matter of the preservation of the peace. The following, +however, is of a somewhat different complexion, in the last Report of +the Irish Commissioners, regarding the state of matters in the Green +Isle:— + + “The fishers and buyers complain greatly of the absence of some + regulations for the preservation of order among the multitude of boats + and people that are often assembled; and still more of the absence of + any summary jurisdiction for enforcing regulations and settling + disputes between the boatmen themselves, and between them and the + purchasers; and have agreed upon a memorial to the Lord-Lieutenant + upon the subject, which, doubtless, will come before the Board in due + time.”[26] “The inspecting commander at Donaghadee complains that the + people do not conform to the laws with regard to the size of the + meshes; and that with poke nets, used in Lough Strangford, great + quantities of fry of cod, whiting, pollock, blocken, sythes, + salmon-trout, turbot, golpens, and smelts, from two to three inches + long, are destroyed.”[27] + +We may now say a few words regarding the somewhat disputed subject of +the _brand_. Many of our readers are, no doubt, so innocent as not to +know very precisely what this mysterious symbol indicates. The mark +called the _Full crown Brand_ merely means, that the herrings contained +in the barrel which bears it have been regularly selected and assorted +from the first, as of full size, good quality, and fresh condition; that +they have been gutted and salted immediately after capture; have gone +through various intermediate curative processes not needful to be here +detailed; have lain at least ten days in pickle since their first +presentment in the market-place; and having been then carefully +inspected by the fishery officer of the station, and found in every way +excellent and in sound order, have had the heads and girdings of their +barrels firmly and finally fixed down by the cooper, and so being +entitled to the Government Brand, have accordingly had that distinction +impressed upon them by means of a hot iron which “the likeness of a +queenly crown has on.” + +Now, it has been argued by some, who, like Campbell’s sable chieftain of +the Indian forest,— + + “Scorning to wield the hatchet for a bribe, + ’Gainst Brand himself have gone in battle forth,” + +that this is an interference with the freedom of trade, which should be +left open to all competitors, without fear or favour. They maintain that +although it may be convenient and advantageous to dealers, it +practically tends to confine improvement in the mode of cure within the +limits just necessary to secure the brand, and that there is thus no +inducement held out to a fish-curer to surpass his fellows,—the +Government brand, as it were, equalising the value of the article, +although one set of barrels may be much better than another. It is also +asserted that the brand creates an artificial system inconsistent with +proper and prevailing principles, and that the sounder system now +applied to the linen and woollen trade (from both of which the +Government mark has been for some time removed), and all along to the +fisheries of Ireland, should be put in force. + +In reply to these objections, it may be mentioned that herrings are of a +very different nature from linen or woollen fabrics, and after being +packed for exportation, cannot have their character and condition +ascertained by either touch or eye-sight, without injury to their future +state. The brand is _not compulsory_, and can scarcely present any +barrier to improvement in the cure of herrings, because if any curer, +more skilful than his neighbours, can find out and put in practice any +better method than that now in use, he is entirely free to do so, and +may thus establish his name, and trust to it, independent of the brand. +Moreover, whatever may be the philosophical value of the principle in +political economy pointed out as deserving of a preference in the +abstract, it must practically (and the gutting and curing of herrings +are very practical operations in their way) be borne in mind, that our +fisheries have grown up rapidly under the present system, which was +found necessary to enable us to compete with the Dutch, whom we have +thereby driven out of whatever markets are open to us without +disadvantageous differential duties, and that our now prosperous +practice is sunk into the very foundations of our foreign trade, +affecting the wellbeing of almost countless thousands, from the forlorn +fisherman to the wealthiest capitalist, or most aspiring speculator. + +It is assuredly a strong fact, that the foreign merchants themselves are +unanimous in favour of the continuance of the present system, as +enabling them to transmit their barrels, on the faith of the brand, into +far inland countries, where the names of our native curers, however +familiar to many of ourselves, are necessarily quite unknown, but where +the acknowledged _crown brand_, by its simplicity and certainty, +suffices for every purpose of an agreed-on guarantee. Great derangement +of the foreign trade, and consequent disadvantage, are naturally +apprehended from any sudden departure from the existing long-established +system. The trouble and expense which, in absence of the brand, +necessarily follow the practice of _braken_ (that is, inspection by +opening) would inevitably decrease the profits of both the fishermen and +curers in our own country; because as each party through whose hands the +fish pass from their first capture to their final consumption must reap +some share of profit, whatever increases the difficulties of the +intermediate stages, tends to lower prices in this country. The duties +paid abroad, both of import and transit, and other unavoidable charges, +prevent the exaction of any higher prices in the foreign market, because +any considerable increase would be tantamount to prohibition, and would +thus debar any sales whatever. As the price, then, must remain the same, +or nearly so, to the foreign consumer, a large proportion of the loss +occasioned by increased expense would unavoidably fall upon our own +people. Now, it is well known that, in consequence of the perilous and +uncertain nature of a fisherman’s vocation, and the peculiarities of the +curing trade, the profits to those concerned can in no way stand +reduction, however much they may require increase. + +The opinion of the foreign merchants on this matter has been manifested +many times. On the 7th of March 1844, Messrs Robinow & Sons, and +Hudtwalcker & Co., of Hamburg, write as follows:— + + “We believe ourselves entitled to state that we are not merely + expressing our own individual sentiments, but, at the same time, those + of the public in general interested in the herring trade of the + Continent. The official interference of the Board will prove a great + benefit to the Scotch herring trade. It will, on the one hand, prove + to the buyers on the Continent that the Board of Fisheries is desirous + to do all in its power to justify the renowned fame of its brands, and + in this way give more confidence to the trade. On the other hand, the + curers of Scotland will be influenced by such steps to pay as much + attention to the curing and packing as possible, and thus increasing + confidence on the part of consumers, and increasing vigilance, with a + view to improve the cure, on the part of the curers and officers, will + conjointly contribute to increase the consumption of Scotch herrings + on the Continent, and consequently to increase the exportation.” + +Mr Wellmann, of Stettin, a very extensive foreign purchaser of the +Caithness branded herrings, in a letter to Mr George Traill, M.P. for +the county, wrote thus on the 8th of February 1851:— + + “Scotch herrings are only sold in small quantities in this market and + the neighbourhood; they are chiefly sent great distances of from a + hundred to eight hundred miles English, into the interior of Germany + and Poland, either by orders or offers, without the assistance of + commission merchants, for the great expense of forwarding them does + not permit any commission to a third party. The great distance + prevents, likewise, dealers from inspecting the herrings on the spot + here, who therefore make their purchases solely on their trust in the + official brand, knowing that the fish must be selected well, and + properly cured,—that the barrels be of legal size,—and that they + require to be well and tightly made before the brand can be affixed. + These herrings are generally forwarded by crafts, which are often six + or eight weeks on their passage, and it frequently happens that a + great fall in the market takes place during that time; and should the + official brand be removed, dealers in the interior might easily take + advantage of such falls, for it would not be difficult to find + complaints—such, for instance, that the fish were not properly + selected or well cured—that they had too much or too little salt—or + that the barrels were of a smaller size (for no one can there say of + what size the barrels require to be); and as most herrings are sold on + credit, they would consequently be often stored at the risk and the + expense of the shipper, and perhaps in markets where the person who + purchased them was the only dealer.... The cheapness and the improved + cure have increased the importation of Scotch herrings into our port + to a great extent, for there is no port to which more Scotch herrings + are shipped than Stettin, whilst the importation of Dutch and + Norwegian fish has diminished.” + +A body of Hamburg merchants, too numerous to be here named, stated, on +the 4th of October 1852, that it is by the careful observance of the +regulations established and enforced by the Board of Fisheries, that the +Scotch herring trade has attained to its present magnitude:— + + “It is by the crown full brand,” they observe, “that we enter into + contracts, make sales and deliveries, without examination. Such + herrings pass current from hand to hand here, and into the interior, + some of them reaching the empire of Austria. The many thousand barrels + of full crown branded herrings arrived this season have given entire + satisfaction to us and our constituents; but the sale of unbranded + herrings is frequently the subject of complaint, and threats made by + customers to return the herrings. We are, therefore, compelled to make + abatements in the price.” + +The partners of four merchant firms of Berlin expressed themselves thus, +on the 7th of October 1852:—“We hereby represent our entire confidence +in the official brand applied to the Scotch herrings by the officers of +the Board of Fisheries, which is our only guarantee for the large +capital we embark in this business.” And the heads of six mercantile +houses of Magdeburg state, within a few days of that time, in respect to +a rumour which had reached them regarding the possible abolition of the +brand: “An alteration in this respect would put us to the greatest +inconvenience, and compel us to adopt another plan of payment, which in +the end would not be agreeable to your merchants and curers.... The +opinion of a body of merchants, importing annually 50,000 to 60,000 +barrels of Scotch herrings, will be worth some consideration, +particularly as the object concerns the interests of both parties.” + +Mr Thalberg, another Prussian merchant, has recently (in 1855) written +as under:— + + “In order to show how the Scotch herrings had risen in the Dantzic + market, while in 1841 only from 3000 to 4000 barrels were imported, + last year there were 35,000, and Scotch herrings were gradually more + and more taken into the interior, while Norwegian herrings have + correspondingly decreased. The same was the fact at Königsberg. This + he attributed to the brand. Some of the herrings were actually sent to + the Black Sea, being bought at Dantzic on the faith of the brand, + which was so essential to a continuance and spread of the trade, that + he did not believe purchasers from the interior would come such a + distance and examine the barrels for themselves, were the brand + abolished. Norwegian herrings were sent in small yachts, and each + parcel was examined with the greatest minuteness before being + purchased.” + +These are the opinions of foreign merchants on this important point. The +following may be taken as expressing the sentiments of those at home. Mr +James Methuen, of Leith, a skilful curer, extensively known as of great +experience, and very largely embarked in the export trade, very recently +wrote as follows:— + + “It is impossible to see each herring in a barrel, therefore + inspection of them at the time of curing and packing enables an + officer to brand with knowledge of the article, and gives confidence + to the purchaser. + + “The official brand has proved the means of exchange by bill of lading + from hand to hand, and from dealer to dealer, in Scotland,—afloat in + the middle of the North Sea,—in the Baltic, or in the rivers of + Germany in their river craft, and up the interior of Germany for + hundreds of miles,—and been passed and paid for as a good bill of + exchange—in some cases through half-a-dozen purchasers. + + “I ask those who differ, would it be wise of Parliament to peril the + industry of so many thousands of our seafaring and industrious + population, for want of the supervision that has wrought so well as to + displace the demand for Norwegian and Dutch cured herrings on the + continent of Europe, and enhanced the value of the Scotch crown + branded herrings, so that they are now bought and sold without + inspection by parties who never, and cannot, see them.”[28] + +The important fact previously stated by Mr Wellmann, in regard to the +increasing consumption of Scotch herrings in the Baltic, and the +consequently decreased importation from other quarters, is well shown by +the following table:— + + In 1834, barrels of Dutch herrings received at Stettin, 4,546 + „ „ of Norwegian do., „ „ 53,981 + „ „ of Scotch do., „ „ 19,960 + ——————— + In 1850, „ of Dutch do., „ „ 568 + „ „ of Norwegian do., „ „ 12,507 + „ „ of Scotch do., „ „ 116,538 + +In the year 1849, our exportation to Stettin amounted to 147,103 +barrels. That season is well known to have been the most productive of +herrings of any ever “recorded in history,” and so gave us the power, +while Prussia afforded the opportunity, of this most beneficial +exportation. It gives us sincere pleasure to add, that the immediately +preceding season of 1855, although by no means the greatest in respect +of capture, has exceeded all its predecessors in exportation to the +Prussian markets—154,961 barrels having been transmitted to Stettin +during the year now closed. Almost the whole of that vast consignment +was ordered in consequence of the certain guarantee afforded by the +crown brand. Now that peace is ere long, as we trust, about to be +proclaimed, it is pleasant to anticipate the fresh impulse which may be +given to the consumption of our native produce in many inland countries +of the Continent. The disastrous, though, from the cruel necessities of +war, advisable destruction of the great Russian fisheries, will no +doubt, for a time, cause additional recourse to our marine resources; +but the absence of the well-known and long-trusted brand from our +barrels exported to the Baltic, would assuredly tend to check, or render +less likely, that desirable increase.[29] + +It is thought by many considerate and well-instructed people, by bankers +and men of business, whether merchants or otherwise, that the power of +obtaining the brand is of great advantage to young men of small means, +and not yet established commercial reputation, who desire to enter into +the export herring trade. By attending carefully to the cure of, it may +be, only a few hundred barrels, they obtain the brand, and can ship +their small stock with as good a prospect of a fair proportional profit +as the most wealthy and best-known exporter. This opens a door to rising +integrity and intelligence which might otherwise be closed, and it +lessens the occasional evils of those engrossing monopolies which the +large command of capital or credit is apt to produce, to the +disadvantage of the poorer though not less trustworthy trader. + +In reference to the next head of our discourse—the small annual grant of +£3000 for the erection or enlargement of harbours, piers, and quays,—we +think it cannot be doubted that its administration by the Board of +Fisheries is necessarily attended by numerous and great advantages. +Correspondence and inquiry take place in each particular instance of +application for aid; one of the first practical steps being an accurate +survey by the Board’s engineers, with a report on the practicability and +probable expense of the proposed work. The cost of this preliminary +investigation is shared, half and half, between the applicant and the +Board. The Board, being by this time in possession of all particulars +necessary to be known, determines the proportion which the proprietor or +fishermen (or both, as the case may be) should be made to bear of the +ultimate outlay, while the latter parties also take into consideration +how far they are able to make the required contribution; and so the +agreement is either completed, or does not take place. Of course, the +Board may either reject or entertain an application, while a proprietor +(committed to nothing more than his share of the previous survey) may on +his part accept or refuse to pledge himself to the payment of his fixed +proportion, according to what he knows of his own ways and means. It is +not till these preliminaries have been adjusted that the actual work is +mutually agreed upon, and put in operation. We know that many of these +undertakings, which on their first proposal seemed almost hopeless of +execution, have, by the encouragement and exertion of the Board, been +brought to a successful issue, and are not only now in themselves of +unspeakable advantage to our fishing population, but, by affording a +successful example of the benefits which occur from comparatively small +sums judiciously expended, have been the means of conducing directly to +the erection of similar undertakings elsewhere, of equal benefit, but +not previously taken into contemplation. A great deal more is done by +these quiet and considerate means than can possibly be here detailed; +but it is self-evident that the constant and unconstrained communication +which now and has so long existed between the Commissioners, the great +majority of whom are resident in Edinburgh, and the proprietors as well +as people of the coast districts, where an increase of boat +accommodation is so much required, cannot be otherwise than +advantageous.[30] + +Now, if the Board of Fisheries be abolished, how and by whom are these +friendly and encouraging communications to be carried on, and who are to +pay the preliminary expenses? Through what agency are matters to be put +in shape for acceptance by the Treasury, and the recommendation of a +special grant by Parliament, in favour of any particular pier, or other +work, that may be wanted? These preliminary but unavoidable expenses +would in many cases fall upon a body of poor fishermen, who, without any +warning voice on the one hand, or word of encouragement on the other, +must proceed in doubt and darkness as to the chances of ultimate success +with Government; while that Government could not proceed to action in +the proposed matter without ordering some inquiry of their own, with a +view to confirm or confute the opinion of the applicant, and thus +causing, whatever might be the result, _additional if not double +expenditure_,—while the object of the abolition of the Board is _to save +expense_! A detailed explanation to Parliament regarding the special +requirements of each particular case, though safe and salutary in the +instance of great public harbour-works, would prove inconvenient, if not +inoperative, in the administration of the numerous smaller fishing-pier +grants for Scotland, hitherto contributed and administered by the Board. +In what way the local though important circumstances connected with the +expenditure of a few hundred pounds for the erection of a slip at the +far end of Lewis, at Sandseir in Shetland, or Eday in Orkney, can form +the subject of an immediate and judicious parliamentary inquiry, we +cannot well conceive. Probably few proprietors would desire to take +advantage of a grant for some small but desirable improvement in those +wild regions, were all the private and preliminary negotiations +subjected to so cumbrous and uncertain a course as a consideration by +the House of Commons. The communications now made to the Board of +Fisheries by many Highland and other proprietors, are no doubt often to +a certain extent of a confidential nature, involving the exposition of +pecuniary affairs in connection with the proportional sums which +particular proprietors may or may not have it in their power to pay. But +when the main point is proved, to the satisfaction of the Board—to wit, +that a great and general advantage will assuredly accrue to the people, +whether a closely congregated mass, or the forlorn and far-scattered +remnants of some dim and distant island of the sea,—then is the grant +agreed to, and every effort, consistent with enduring efficiency, made +to economise its administration, while every exertion has been +previously put forth to obtain the utmost possible aid from proprietors +and fishermen. It is obvious, from the annual reports made to +Parliament, how much is frequently effected by the Board in this way. +Let the following examples suffice for the exposition of this portion of +our subject. The harbours after-named have not been built by wealthy +proprietors, but by contributions to the Board by working fishermen, out +of the hard-earned savings of their precarious life of labour. + + For the harbour of Cellar-dyke there was lately paid by £705 18 4 + fishermen, + Do. Buckhaven, do., 3,116 19 9 + Do. Coldingham, do., 571 8 0 + +The grant to the Board commenced in 1828, but was only £2500 per annum +for many years, and often greatly less, the practice appearing to have +long been to require from the Treasury only the sum actually wanted for +each work; and, from some absence of knowledge among both proprietors +and fishermen, and probably inexperience on the part of the +Commissioners of the Board, the grant in certain seasons was not +obtained at all. It never seems to have reached a regular annual payment +of £2500 until the year 1838, nor £3000 until the year 1850. Yet since +its institution it has, by means of the negotiations of the Board, drawn +out from private parties, for the erection of harbours, the sum of + + £27,455 + Of itself, the Board has paid in grants. 59,399 + ——————— + Making a total of £86,854 + +expended on the improvement of our coasts. It ought, moreover, to be +borne in mind, that although, by the Act of Parliament, not less than +one-fourth must be contributed by the private promoters of these +shore-works, yet, through the influential management of the Board, this +required proportion has in a great many cases been raised to one-third, +and in some to one-half, of the estimated sum. So greatly, indeed, have +the benefits of these ameliorations attracted the attention of the poor +fishermen themselves, that they have not seldom of late come forward +with offers of contributions much beyond what could have been +anticipated from men of their class. When we consider the other +advantages necessarily flowing from the increased prudential habits +which must precede this social or domestic saving,—the diminution in the +consumption of ardent spirits, and abstinence from other sensuous +enjoyments,—it seems impossible to overrate the importance of any +existing and well-established condition of affairs, admitted to be +directly influential in the production of so beneficial, we may say so +blessed, a result. + +On the most mature and deliberate consideration of the whole matter now +before us, and with large practical experience of the history and habits +of our fishermen, and other coast population, we desire to protest +against the unpatriotic rumour which has reached our ears, that the +Board of Fisheries is about to be abolished, and its beneficial +functions performed by—we know not whom. + +We have now no longer any space for special observations on the two +works of which the titles are given at the foot of the first page of +this article. Like all its predecessors, the _Report_ by the +Commissioners of the Board of Fisheries, for 1854, contains a great deal +of valuable statistical and other information, which, if we seek for +elsewhere, we shall fail to find. The author of the treatise on +“Fisheries,” in the current edition of the _Encyclopædia Britannica_, +has presented us with an ample and accurate exposition of his subject, +with which he is no doubt well acquainted. He appears to us to be rather +long-winded on the history and habits of the salmon and its smolts, +whether one year old or two; but this is probably one of his hobbies, +and as it may be also a favourite topic with a numerous class of curious +and inquiring readers, and has recently assumed additional importance in +connection with the artificial breeding of the finest of our fresh-water +fishes, our ingenious author’s time and labour have probably been by no +means misbestowed in its elucidation. + + + + + SYDNEY SMITH. + + +The art of criticism is a branch of literature peculiar and separate, +rigidly marked out from all the other branches of this gentle craft. An +author, like a mother, throws all his personal prestige, all his hope, +and all his riches, into that frail rich-freighted argosy, the book, +which is doubtless _his_, but yet a separate entity, and by no means +_him_; and almost in proportion to the power of his genius, and the +elevation of his aim, his book outshines and overtops its maker, and +becomes of the two the more real and tangible existence. It is indeed +the inevitable tendency of art, in all its loftier labours, to glorify +the work rather than the worker. The man perforce moves in a limited +circle, the book goes everywhere. It is true that we are all much in the +habit of saying that the author is better than the book; but this is an +extremely questionable proposition, and one which experience constantly +controverts. Also we all make comments—and on what subject have we been +so unanimously eloquent?—on the wide reception given to the productions, +and the small amount of public acknowledgment bestowed, on the persons, +of English men of literature. Yes, they may do those things better in +France; but it is not all our English conventionalism, nor is the “stony +British stare” with which the man of land petrifies the man of letters +in these realms by any means a primary or even a secondary cause of that +want of social rank and estimation of which we all complain. Instead of +that, it is the normal position of authorhood, the _bonâ fide_ and +genuine condition of a man who has voluntarily transferred his wealth, +his aspirations, and his power, to another existence, even though that +existence is a creation of his own. The writer of a great book is an +abdicated monarch; out of his cloister, discrowned, but triumphant, he +watches the other king whom he has made, going forth gloriously, a youth +and a bridegroom, to take the world by storm. There are other modes of +fame for him who has a mind to enjoy it in his own person; but it is +scarcely to be disputed, to our thinking, that the very first principle +of art is to glorify the book, the picture, or the image, over the mind +that brought them forth. + +But criticism does what literature proper does not pretend to do. Happy +the man who first hit upon the brilliant expedient of reviewing! The +works of the critic are of their nature fugitive and ephemeral; but the +same nature gives them innumerable advantages—immediate influence, +instant superiority, a dazzling and unlaborious reputation. The works +are almost nothing in many cases, but the men have leaped upon the +popular platform, and mastered the reins of the popular vehicle in the +twinkling of an eye. From whence it comes that the greater critics of +modern literature are all known to us rather as persons than as writers. +The younger generation, to whom the birth-hour of the _Edinburgh_, that +Pallas Athene, in her buff and blue, is a remote historic epoch, have +known all their lives the names of Jeffrey and of Sydney Smith; but we +venture to say that this knowledge, so far from being based upon the +actual productions of these distinguished and brilliant writers, would +suffer diminution rather than increase from the most careful study of +their several books. It is an entire mistake to send back these +versatile and animated personages into the obscure of authorship; their +reputation stands out a world above and beyond the volumes that bear +their names. _They_ have made no act of abdication in favour of a book; +they are orators, impassioned, eager, partial; they are men, each in his +own person, storming at us with individual opinions, laughter, +indignation, contemptuousness, making splendid blunders, brilliant +successes, and leaving echoes of their own undaunted voices in the +common din of every day. Their reputation is immediate, sudden, +personal—not the fame of a book, but the renown of a man. + +And to this cause we may attribute the very evident fact, that some of +the most notable men of the last generation have left little behind them +to justify the extraordinary reputation bestowed on them by their +contemporaries. Even our own St Christopher, the genial giant of Maga, +is not sufficiently represented in the world of books—and his brilliant +rivals of the opposite party have none of them left a _Noctes_. These +men entirely eclipse the published works that bear their name. We know +what their opinions were, much more by the primitive vehicle of oral +tradition, than by the aid of print or publisher. Their position was +that of speakers, not of writers; their periodical address to the public +was a personal and direct address, out of a natural pulpit, where the +audience saw the orator, as well as the orator saw the audience, and the +immediate response was marvellous. But there is compensation in all +things; the author “had up” before this bench of judges, and gloriously +cut to pieces to the triumph and admiration of all beholders, has his +quiet revenge over his old castigators. The critic, like Dives, has all +his good things in his lifetime; it is the nature of his fame to +decrease, and fade into a recollection. The man dies; the book lives on. + +The writer of the work before us,[31] brief and modest as is her +execution of her labour of love, is diffident of the reception which it +may meet with at the hands of the public. Lady Holland’s doubts on this +question have been, doubtless, set at rest long ere now; and we are +after date in offering her the comfort of our opinion, so far as that +may go. Yet we cannot help saying, that with such a man as Sydney Smith, +a biography was a necessity—a right belonging to him, and a duty owed to +us. During his own time he was—not a moral essayist, though all the +world crowded to his lectures—not an Edinburgh Reviewer, though he +himself was the Jove from whose brain that armed Minerva sprang—nor, +last and least, a Canon of St Paul’s. He was Sydney Smith—it was enough +distinction—official character would not stick to so manful and mirthful +a personage; it was not possible to seize upon one part of his sunshiny +and genial nature, and make of it a supposititious man. There was no +catching him even in profile; wherever he went, he went with his whole +breadth in full array of errors and excellences, ampler than his +canonicals. It is folly to say that such a life was uneventful, or that +such a person was not a fit subject for biography. In fact, he was the +fittest of subjects; and as the world never before knew him so well, it +is safe to say that, not even in the sudden triumph of his first great +enterprise, not in the excitement of the times of Plymley, nor in the +fury of American repudiation, was the name of Sydney Smith so +distinguished or so popular as now. + +This is the doing of his daughter and his wife. Honour to the love which +would not be discouraged! The mother has not been permitted to see how +thoroughly and cordially the world appreciates that honest and noble +Englishman, of whose fame she was the loyal conservator; but to have +carried out so well her mother’s purpose, and to have seen how +completely the public mind adopts and justifies their own loving +estimate of the head of their household, must be, to Lady Holland, +sufficient reward. + +Sydney Smith was the son of a gentleman, clever enough and rich enough +to be a somewhat remarkable and “picturesque” personage, but not, so far +as appears, a very influential one, either as regarded the character or +fortune of his sons. The boys were clever beyond precedent; so clever, +that their schoolfellows made solemn protest against the injustice of +being compelled to strive for prizes with “the Smiths,” who were always +sure to win. Sydney, the most distinguished of the brotherhood, was +captain of the school at Winchester, and, in Oxford, a Fellow of New +College. If popular report speaks true, such learned celibates are +always lovers of good cheer; and in those days, according to Lady +Holland, port wine was the prevailing Helicon; for medievalism had not +then come into fashion, and learned leisure hung heavy upon the +colleges. In the thronged world of youth and intelligence, within and +around these ancient walls, it is easy to suppose how great an +influence, had he sought it, must have fallen to such a man as Sydney +Smith—not to say that society was his natural element, and conversation +his special and remarkable gift. Under these circumstances—at an age in +which every one loves to excel, and in a place where he had unusual +opportunities of distinguishing himself—the young Fellow, seeking +neither pleasure nor influence, stoutly turned his back upon temptation, +and lived, like a brave man as he was, upon his hundred pounds a-year. +Sydney was of other mettle than those hapless men of genius whose “light +from heaven” is a light which leads astray; and it is singular to +observe that the prevailing characteristic of this famous wit and man of +society, at this most perilous portion of his life, was steadfast, +honest, self-denying independence. Such an example is rare; and no one +who wishes to form a true estimate of the hero of this story, should +omit to note this triumph of his youth. + +From New College, by an abrupt transition, the young man falls into his +fate. Why the most brilliant of Mr Robert Smith’s four sons should be +the sacrifice of the family we are not told; but the elder is destined +for the bar, and the younger for India, and to Sydney remains only the +Church. He does not feel, nor pretend to feel, that this is his natural +vocation; but he feels it “his duty to yield to his father’s wishes, and +sacrifice his own.” Indeed, to take him within his own limited +standing-ground, the life of Sydney Smith seems nearly a perfect +one—duty, frankly accepted and honestly fulfilled, is in every period +and change of his history; and so long as we take it for granted that it +is only one of the learned professions which this good son enters in +obedience to his father’s wishes, we cannot sufficiently admire the +fortitude with which he takes up his lot. However, we warn our readers, +who may entertain notions, old-fashioned or newfangled, that a clergyman +should be something more than a professional man, to discharge all such +fancies from their mind while they discuss this history. Sydney Smith is +only to be dealt with on his own platform, and by the light of his own +motives. For ourselves, we confess that this most honest, kind-hearted, +and benevolent divine, is not by any means our _beau ideal_ of a +clergyman. Granting all his admirable qualities, and with due regard for +the “calm dignity of his eye, mien, and voice,” his “deep earnest +tones,” and “solemn impressive manner,” and also for the unfailing +benevolence and kindliness of his dealings with his parishioners—in all +which we perfectly believe—we still cannot help feeling that the least +satisfactory view which we can have of Sydney Smith is that of his +clerical position. He does not belong to it, nor it to him; he is a wit, +a scholar, a man of letters, a man of politics, but in no sense, except +in the merely arbitrary matter-of-fact one, is he a clergyman. Without +entering into the religious question, or throwing any stigma whatever +upon a man, in his own way, so honest and so admirable, we are obliged +to hold by our opinion,—the common motives of honesty and propriety +which govern men in the commonest of occupations, are all that are +necessary in his profession of clergyman for a true judgment of Sydney +Smith. It is his duty to look after the morals and comforts of his +parishioners, and he does his duty; but to require of him the entire +devotion of an evangelist, would be to require what he does not pretend +to, and indeed disapproves of. To judge him as we judge the primitive +apostles of our faith, or even to judge him as we judge an Evangelical +incumbent or a Puseyite rector—men who, after their different fashions, +live for this laborious business of theirs, and put their whole heart in +it—would be idle and useless. He must be looked on in the light of his +own motives and his own principles, and not according to any special +view of ours. + +And in this aspect we can admire the sacrifice which a young man, +conscious of his own great powers, and no doubt conscious that in this +sphere, of all others, were they least likely to do him service, made +“to his father’s wishes.” He was soon put to a severe practical trial, +and with equal fortitude seems to have endured his banishment to the +dreary solitude of his first curacy. It was a cruel experiment. “Sydney +Smith a curate in the midst of Salisbury Plain!” exclaims his +biographer; and certainly the position was dismal enough. “The village +consisted but of a few scattered cottages and farms”—“once a-week a +butcher’s cart came over from Salisbury”—and “his only relaxation, not +being able to keep a horse, was long walks over these interminable +plains.” Under these circumstances one may suppose that a little of the +fervour of that Methodism, at which in after days he aimed his least +successful arrow, might have been the best amelioration possible to this +melancholy state of things; and very sad it is indeed to send a man, +with no apostolic vocation whatever, to a place which nothing but the +vocation of an apostle could render bearable. Nevertheless Sydney, +honest, brave, and manful, did his duty. He remained at his post, though +he did not love it, and did what was required of him, if not like an +apostle, at least like an honest man. + +Let us pause to say that this seems to us the really distinct and +predominant feature in the character of Sydney Smith. He is everywhere a +full-developed Englishman, making greater account of the manly virtues +than of the ethereal ones—disposed to take the plain path before him, +and to tread it sturdily—given to discussing everything that comes under +his notice, in its actual and practicable reality rather than its +remoter essential principles—a man given to _doing_ more than to +_speculating_—a mind not matter-of-fact, but actual—a soul of hearty and +thorough honesty. Honesty is one of the most definite principles of our +nature—it leaves no misty debatable land between the false and the true; +and a man who says nothing but what he believes true, and does nothing +but what he believes right, may be many a time wrong, as human creatures +are, yet must always be an estimable man. Sydney Smith is never +quixotic—never goes positively out of his way to seek a duty which does +not specially call upon him. As long as the bishop is propitious, he is +quite content to leave Foston among the Yorkshire clay, without a +parish-priest; but as soon as the duty places itself broad and distinct +before him, he is down upon it without a moment’s pause, builds the ugly +vicarage, takes possession of the unattractive parish, does whatever his +hand findeth to do. In this lies the charm and force of his character; +in spite of all we say ourselves, and all that other people are pleased +to say concerning the sombre and foggy mood of our national mind, we, +for our own part, cannot help regarding Sydney Smith as a very type and +impersonation of that virtue which has the especial admiration of these +islands. For we like tangible worthiness, we British people—we like +something to look at, as well as to hear tell of, and rejoice with our +whole hearts over the man who “goes in” at his foes, and overcomes +them—who makes light of the infinite “bothers” of life, and bears its +serious calamities like a man, and who carries his good cheer and his +cordial heart unclouded over all. This is the national standard and type +of excellence, let them speak of vapours and moroseness who will. + +From the dreary probation of this first charge, Sydney was elevated to a +tutorship, and ushered into a new and eventful life. With his pupil, the +son of a Squire, to whom belongs the honour of finding out that this +curate of Netherhaven was no ordinary personage, the young tutor, by a +happy chance, found his way to Edinburgh. War broke out; Germany fell +into trouble—well for Sydney!—and so the Jove came to Athens that the +Minerva might be born. Does anybody remember how it was in those old, +old days? Dearest reader, there was no Maga! there were _Gentleman’s +Magazines_, and _Scots Magazines_, and other _outré_ and antiquated +productions. The broad and comprehensive survey of general events to +which we are now accustomed, the universal criticism of everything and +every person which is common to us all, and the perfect dauntlessness of +modern journalism, were unknown to those times. And those were the days +when our great men were young—when Youth was abroad in the world, with +all his daring and all his eagerness. There is no particular star of +youth in the horizon of this second half of the nineteenth century, but +this brilliant planet was in the ascendant as the old eighteenth ended +its old-fashioned career of dulness. There was Jeffrey, sharp, +sparkling, and versatile; there was Brougham, vehement and impetuous; +there was Sydney, in his English breadth and all-embracing mirthfulness; +and there were others, all young—young, clever, daring, exuberant, full +of that youthful joyous courage which defies the world. They met, they +talked, they argued: strange enough, though there are published _Lives_ +of most of them, we have no clear account of those conversations—no +_Dies_ or _Noctes_, disclosing the eager discussions, the boundless +animadversions, the satire, the fun, and the laughter of this brilliant +fraternity in the high and airy habitations which suited their beginning +fortune; but the result we are all very well acquainted with. Something +came of the concussion of these young and eager intellects; they were +all armed and ready for a grand tilt at things in general—a jubilant +attack upon precedent and authority, after the manner of youth. Yes, +some of them remain, ancient men—others of them have passed away in ripe +old age; yet there they stand, the Revolutionists of Nature, the +universal challengers, the fiery Crusaders of youth. It was not +Whiggery, good our reader, though Pallas Athene _is_ buff and blue—it +was the genuine natural impulse, common to all young humankind, of +pulling down the old and setting up the new. + +Perhaps it is because we are better accustomed to good writing and +clever speculation in these days—perhaps because there is now a wider +freedom of speech and opinion than there used to be; but there is a most +distinct and woeful difference, beyond dispute, between the beginning of +literary enterprises in this time, and in that brilliant and eventful +period when Maga was born and the _Edinburgh_ was young. Quarterly +Reviews spring up everywhere in these days—grow into little comfortable +private circulations—belong to particular “interests”—are read, and +influential in their sphere; but who takes note of the day or hour of +their appearing, or hails the advent of the new luminary? Then, the +young periodical took the world by storm—now, nobody wots of it. The +difference is notable; and perhaps, after all, we may be justly doubtful +whether it really is better to have a great many people to do a thing +indifferently, than to have one or two who can do it well. + +Yes, we were enemies at our outset; we wrestled manfully, sometimes for +fame, sometimes for principle, sometimes “for love;” yet, being foes, +let us rejoice over them, worthy rivals in an honourable field. Jeffrey +and Sydney Smith have gone upon the last journey—Christopher North is +gathered to his fathers—alas and alas! genius and fame and power are +things of a day, as we are; yet it is hard to believe in their decline +and decadence, when we look back upon these days of their youth. + +The first idea of the _Edinburgh Review_ originated with Sydney Smith. +His proposal, as he says himself, was received “with acclamation;” and +indeed it is easy to understand the exultation with which these daring +young men must have anticipated possessing an organ of their own. He +himself edited the first number; and though his name is not so entirely +identified with this brilliant and successful enterprise as some of his +colleagues, to him belongs the glory of the beginning. But his +biographer does little justice to this interesting period of his life. +We have glimpses of his history in Edinburgh only by means of sundry +sensible and candid letters written to the father and mother of his +pupil, in which, as might be expected, the said pupil, a respectable and +mediocre Michael Beach, appears at greater length than his instructor. +There is nothing remarkable in these letters, except the good sense and +frankness with which the character of this pupil is exhibited; and this +is as creditable to the young man’s parents as it is to Sydney: but save +for two or three domestic incidents, we see nothing more of the man, nor +how he lived during this period which had so important an influence upon +all his after life. Even Sydney Smith could not make everywhere such a +brilliant little nucleus of society as that which he brightened and +cheered in Edinburgh. We would gladly have seen more of the five years +of his northern residence, and are much disposed to grudge that Lady +Holland should take this time of all others to tell us about his +writings, and to make a survey of all the future succession of his +articles in the _Edinburgh_. These we can find out for ourselves; but we +might surely have had a more articulate sketch of how our hero appeared +among his equals at this beginning of his life. + +Shortly after the first appearance of the Review, Sydney Smith left +Edinburgh, whence, having “finished” his pupil, and finding it necessary +to make some more permanent provision for his family, he removed to +London, where he seems—no disparagement to his manly and independent +character—to have lived for some time upon his wits, making strenuous +efforts to improve his condition, and bearing what he could not mend +with the gayest and most light-hearted philosophy. During this time he +delivered his famous lectures upon moral philosophy—about the earliest +example, we suppose, of literary lecturings; a course of popular +instruction which found immense favour in the eyes of a curious and +discerning public. Audiences, crowded, fashionable, and clever, listened +with eagerness to his exposition of the doctrines and history of +metaphysics. Into this Scotchest of sciences, Sydney, who was no +metaphysician, made a rapid and daring leap. We do not pause to inquire +whether his style was the perfect English which some of his friends +assert it to be—at least it was luminous, clear, and flowing, full of +good sense, and bright with lively sparkles of wit and high +intelligence. To these lectures “everybody” went; and very creditable it +seems to everybody, that this unbeneficed and unaristocratic clergyman, +known solely by his great and fearless talents, and as far removed from +a courtier of fashion as it is possible to conceive, should have +congregated together so large and so enthusiastic an audience. The +manner in which the lecturer himself speaks of this popular course of +philosophy, and the reputation he acquired by it, is amusing enough. +Writing to Jeffrey, he says:— + + “My lectures are just now at such an absurd pitch of celebrity, that I + must lose a good deal of reputation before the public settles into a + just equilibrium respecting them. I am most heartily ashamed of my own + fame, because I am conscious I do not deserve it; and that the moment + men of sense are provoked by the clamour to look into my claims, it + will be at an end.” + +This prediction has not been fulfilled—nor are the lectures themselves +of the brilliant, faulty, and dashing description, which from this +account one might suppose them to be. They are, in fact, as honest and +truthful as everything else which belongs to their author. When we read +them _now_, we cannot quite account for the sensation they made _then_; +yet we do not throw them into the list of undeserved or fallacious +successes. They merited much though not all of their fame; and the +social success and reputation of their author seems to have grown and +progressed from this time. He was a universal favourite in that mystical +region called “Society,” at least in every quarter of it to which his +political opinions gave him access; and this public appearance made him +henceforth a recognisable personage to the universal public eye. He was +still poor and struggling with many difficulties; but he was surrounded +with fit companions, and full of exuberant spirits—an admirable example, +though unfortunately a rare one, of how well a heart at ease can hold +its place against all the cares of life. + +Out of this brief but brilliant season of triumph, poverty, and +happiness, it was at last the fortune of Sydney Smith to find +preferment—which means, in other words, he got a living—an unobtrusive +comfortable living, which permitted its incumbent to remain quietly in +town, and, having no parsonage to lodge him in, considerately gave him +no manner of trouble. But this state of things was much too good to +last, and the unfortunate Rector, a year or two after his appointment, +was summoned not only to his post, but to the less obvious duty of +making that post tenable. We cannot, we are afraid, perceive much +hardship in the necessity of residence, even though the parish was a +parish of clay, in Yorkshire, and out of the world; but the building of +the parsonage was certainly quite a different matter, and a grievous +burden upon a man whose hands already were full enough. Yet the story of +this settlement at Foston is the pleasantest of stories—the cheeriest, +brightest, prettiest picture imaginable of a Crusoe family-scene. For +ourselves, we turn from all the other triumphs of his life—and all his +triumphs, so joyfully achieved, are exhilarating to hear of—to dwell +upon this delightful conquest of little ills and vulgar difficulties, of +brick and timber, architecture and carpentry, slow village minds, and +unaccommodating circumstances. Sydney Smith never met his foes +vicariously, but with shout and sound of triumph went forth against +them, an host in his own person, taking everything at first hand, and +trusting to no deputy. The result was, that his work was _done_—briskly, +well, and with satisfaction to everybody; though, supposing Sydney’s +successor in this clayey parish to be a medieval man, to whom gables are +a point of doctrine, and Gothic porches a necessity, we fear this square +box, ugly and comfortable, must have been the good priest’s death. It +was a home of the brightest to its builder and his family. We will not +quote the quaint history, because everybody has quoted it; but of this +we are very sure, that the ugly house at Foston, with all its odd +contrivances—its Immortal, its Jack Robinson, its feminine butler twelve +years old, its good cheer, its comfort, its fun, and all the +hospitalities of “the Rector’s Head”—are pleasanter and more lasting +memorabilia than scores of Plymley letters. We know no tale of honest, +simple, kindly human interest which has attracted us more. + +The visitors at “the Rector’s Head” were illustrious people—noble Greys, +Carlisles, and Hollands, and a flood of philosophers and literary folk +as notable in their way. In this book, however, there are but slender +traces of this memorable “run upon the road.” We can perceive the +visitor’s carriage floundering in the ploughed field, but we do not come +to any very distinct perception of the visitor. Let us not grumble; the +noble Whigs and the philosophic heroes are misty and illegible; but the +setting-out of the family chariot, its freight, harness, and history, is +as quaint and clear as anything in the _Vicar of Wakefield_—and, to tell +you the truth, by no means unlike the same. + +From Foston our hero, now the author of _Peter Plymley’s Letters_, comes +to greater preferment, and is advanced to Combe Florey, his vale of +flowers—strange type of human successes!—at a time when grievous trouble +had come upon this happy-hearted man—the loss of his eldest son;—and +from this period his course is all prosperous. He does not, it is true, +get his bishopric, but he is Canon of St Paul’s—is able to spend a good +deal of time in his beloved London—keeps up his high reputation in the +world of wit and intelligence—and finally grows rich as he grows an old +man. Sorrowful is this period of old age; and even the wit of Sydney +Smith cannot veil the sadness of that mournful time, when death after +death breaks up the original circle—when children are gone out of the +parental house, and friends vanish out of the social world. Strangest of +all human desires is that universal desire to live long. How melancholy +is the ending of every record of a lengthened life! It is grievous to +linger upon the tale of weaknesses and sorrows. Surely this art of +biography ought to be one of the weightiest of moral teachers; for even +such a joyous heart as this, though everywhere it finds relief and +compensation, does not escape from that lengthened sojourn in the valley +of the shadow. Earl Grey, his old political leader, was upon _his_ last +sick-bed when Sydney Smith, too weak to bear even the thanks of a +grateful man whom he was not too weak to serve, made an end of his +benevolent and upright days; and messages of mutual sympathy and good +wishes passed between these two, who had wished each other well in other +and more exciting warfares. So, after a long day of manly work and +honest exertion, one of the cheeriest and most courageous of lives came +to its conclusion. His contemporaries had been falling around him for +years—his brother died immediately after—his friend Jeffrey did not long +survive him. They are now almost all gone, these old men, who were once +such eloquent and daring leaders of the impetuous genius of youth. The +_Edinburgh Review_ has fallen into respectable matronhood, and no longer +shivers a sparkling lance upon the powers that be. So wears the world +away. + +We cannot venture to stray into those painful and elaborate definitions +of wit, which so many people seem constrained to enter upon at the very +name of Sydney Smith. To our humble thinking, there is an +undiscriminated region of _fun_, a lesser and lower world than that in +which Wit and Humour contend for the kingship, to which many of his +triumphs belong. We do not disparage his claims as a wit; we do not deny +to him that more tender and delicate touch of sentiment and kindness +which seems to us the distinguishing characteristic of the humourist; we +acknowledge the acute edge of his satire, and the sweeter power of that +joyous ridicule which did not aim at giving pain, but dealt with its +victim as old Izaak dealt with his frog, “as if he loved it.” But the +general atmosphere through which this occasional flash breaks out so +brilliantly, is an atmosphere of genial and spontaneous mirth, a +universal suffusion of fun and high spirits, bright and natural and +unoppressive. After all, many of Sydney Smith’s recorded witticisms are +not particularly witty; yet it is perfectly easy to understand how, from +his own lips, and in the general current of his own joyous talk, they +must once have been irresistible. These felicitous absurdities will not +be judged by the rule and line of criticism; they by no means fit into +the regulated proportions of orthodox humour. They are not born of a +distinct intellectual faculty, nor do they aim at the perfectness of +individual and separate productions. Instead of that, they are the mere +natural overflowings of natural character, gaiety, and high spirits. We +call them wit because we recognise their author as a man from whom wit +is to be expected. But who does not know that wide happy atmosphere of +_fun_ which brightens many a household circle where nobody pretends to +be witty?—who does not know how contagious and irresistible is this +humbler influence, and how it catches up and inspires the common talk of +all our pleasant meetings, giving to almost every family a little fund +of odd or merry sayings—not witty, yet the source of unfailing +mirthfulness? An acknowledged wit is a man to be pitied; and there is no +more woeful position in society than that of one who, when he opens his +lips, be it to speak the most commonplace, sees everybody around him +preparing for laughter. We can perceive a little of this dire necessity +even in Sydney Smith. No doubt, it was whimsical and odd and pleasant to +hear a merry voice giving such a quaint order as that to “glorify the +room”—yet we are afraid, by-and-by, when people came to hear it every +morning, that some indifferent member of the family circle must have +been disposed to shout forth the commonplace injunction, “Draw up the +blinds!” to the forestalment of Sydney. But the broad lower atmosphere +of fun was full about this genial and gifted man. He speaks nonsense +with the most admirable success. Nonsense is a very important ingredient +in the conversation of all circles which are, or have a right to be, +called brilliant. It is often an appropriate surrounding medium, through +which wit may flash and play; but it is not wit, let us name it ever so +arbitrarily; and for our own part, we frankly confess that an hour of +common and simple fun, with one morsel of genuine wit in it—an +unexpected sparkle—is much more pleasant in our eyes than an hour hard +pressed with sharp and brilliant witticisms, be they the very perfection +of the article—the best that can be made. But we distinctly object to +confound together these two separate and differing things. We say this, +not in depreciation of the acknowledged wit of our hero, but because his +biographer pauses gravely at several periods of this Memoir, to give +examples of the “slow perception of humour” evidenced by various people, +who did not understand the happy extravagances of Sydney. We do not +always agree with Lady Holland in her estimate of her father’s +witticisms Here is one of her instances:— + +“Miss —— the other day, walking round the grounds at Combe Florey, +exclaimed, ‘Oh! why do you chain up that fine Newfoundland dog, Mr +Smith?’ ‘Because it has a passion for breakfasting on parish boys.’ +‘Parish boys!’ she exclaimed; ‘does he really eat boys, Mr Smith?’ ‘Yes, +he devours them, buttons and all.’ Her face of horror made me die of +laughing.” + +Now this is very funny, but everybody must perceive at a glance that it +is neither wit nor humour, properly so called; it is pure nonsense, gay +and extravagant, and in reality requires a dull understanding, receiving +it in the mere literal meaning of the words, to bring out and heighten +its effect. The “sayings” of this book, indeed, are by no means up to +the reputation of the speaker; they are often heavily told, and +sometimes in themselves far from striking. But it does not appear that +the wit of Sydney Smith was of a kind to evaporate in sayings; it was +not so much a thing as an atmosphere—an envelopment of mirth and +sunshine, in which the whole man moved and spoke. + +It is not easy to mark out and discriminate the intellectual character +of a man like this; for there are few men so undividable—few with whom +the ordinary separation of mental and physical is so complete an +impossibility. He is one whole individual person, honest and genuine in +all his appearances, and entirely transcending as a man, in natural +force and influence, anything that can be said of him in any special +character as author, politician, or wit. To our own thinking, Sydney +Smith is a complete impersonation of English breadth, manliness, and +reality. He is no diver into things unseen, nor has he a strong wing +skyward; but he walks upon the resounding earth with a sturdy tread, and +has the clearest and most healthful perception of all the actual duties +and common principles of life. This strong realisation of good and evil, +according to the ordinary conditions of humanity—actual, present, +visible benefit or disadvantage—seems the most marked feature of at +least his political writings. The Plymley Letters, for instance, never +touch upon the soul of the question they discuss. So far as they go, +they are admirably clear and pointed—a distinct and powerful exposition +of all the phases of expediency; but there they pause, and go no +farther. The argument touches only things external, inducements and +consequences. These are stated so forcibly and clearly that we do not +wonder at their immediate effect and popularity; for the common mind is +easily swayed by reasoning of this practical and tangible description, +and it is impossible to misunderstand so undeniable a statement of +advantage and disadvantage. But the grand principles on either side of +the question—the old lofty notion of a Christian nation, and the duty it +owed to God, on the one hand, and the rights of conscience and +individual belief upon the other—find no place in the plea. Our native +Scottish tendency to consider things “in the abstract” was a favourite +subject of Sydney’s gleeful and kindly ridicule. It is the last +temptation in the world to which he himself was like to yield; and +indeed it is remarkable to note his entire want of this northern +foible—his strong English bias to the practical and evident. He has no +idea of throwing the whole weight of his cause upon a mere theoretic +right and wrong. His first step is to intrench and fortify his +position—to build himself round with a Torres Vedras of realities, +distinct to touch and vision; and while a preacher of another mind +solemnly denounces what is _wrong_, it is his business to show you what +is foolish—to point out the spot where your enemy can have you at +disadvantage—to appeal to your common experience, your knowledge of men +and of the world. The strain of his argument throughout hangs upon the +external and palpable—the principles of general truth are not in his +way. He takes for granted the first elements of the controversy, and +hurries on to the practical results of it. Peter Plymley has not much to +say upon the Catholic Question; but he has a great deal to say upon the +chronic disaffection of Ireland, and the uncomfortable chances of an +invasion on a coast which discontented Catholics were not likely to make +great efforts to defend. With this view of the subject he is armed and +eloquent. But this is not the highest view of the subject, though it may +be a popular and telling one. In his own life, Sydney Smith held a +nobler creed, and pursued his way with unfailing firmness, though it led +him entirely beyond the warm and wealthy regions of ecclesiastical +preferment; but in his argument the balance which he makes is always a +balance of things positive. Perhaps something of the force and manliness +of his style is owing to this practical species of reasoning. We give +him credit for his “way of putting a thing”—so at least do Dr Doyle and +Lady Holland, without perceiving that the weight and obviousness is in +the _thing_ rather than the _way_. We are tempted to quote the +conversation between the Rev. Romanist and the Rev. Anglican, in +illustration of this irresistible style of argument common to Sydney +Smith:— + +He proposed that Government should pay the Catholic priests. “They would +not take it,” said Dr Doyle. “Do you mean to say, that if every priest +in Ireland received to-morrow morning a Government letter with a hundred +pounds, first quarter of their year’s income, that they would refuse +it?” “Ah, Mr Smith,” said Dr Doyle, “you’ve such a way of putting +things!” + +This is a very good example of his prevailing tendency. The _argumentum +ad hominem_ is the soul of Sydney’s philosophy. You are sure of a +home-thrust, positive and unevadable, when you enter into discussion +with this most practical of understandings. Perhaps you do not agree +with him; very probably to your thinking there are principles involved +of more importance than these obvious safeties or dangers; but the +nature of his implements gives him force and precision; he never strikes +vaguely; his sword is no visionary sword, but a most English and most +evident weapon—sheer steel. + +This habit of reasoning had a singular effect upon his papers on +religious subjects—we mean especially those articles on Methodism and +Missions which appeared many years ago in the _Edinburgh Review_. These +extraordinary productions are already altogether out of date, as indeed +they must have been behind the time in which they were written, and of +right belonged to a less enlightened generation; but it is marvellous to +perceive how far so acute and reasonable a man could go in this grand +blunder, applying his ordinary and limited rule to the immeasurable +principles of truth. It is odd, and it is melancholy; for we confess it +gives us little pleasure to prove over again the old truth that the +schemes of Christianity are often foolishness to the wise and to the +prudent. The paper on Missions is the most wonderful instance of weak +argument and inappropriate reasoning. That so clear an eye did not see +the wretched logic and poor expediences, the complete begging of the +question and strange unworthiness of the argument, is a standing marvel. +On any other subject, Sydney Smith could not have gone so far astray. +His favourite mode of treatment, however effective in other regions, has +no legitimate place in this. We may allow, in spite of our dread of +Popery, and conscientious objection to share the powers of government +with so absolute and unscrupulous an agency, that an emancipated +Catholic is more likely to make a cheerful and patriotic citizen, than a +Catholic bound down under penal laws could possibly be. But we are +staggered to think of restraining the efforts of the evangelist, in +order that we may better secure our supremacy in India over tribes of +pagan weaklings, to whom, for our empire’s sake, freedom and the Gospel +must remain unknown. This is a startling conclusion when plainly stated; +but it is the obvious and unmistakable end of all that this very able +writer, a clergyman and a man of enlightened principles, has to say upon +so difficult and intricate a question. Had any of his political +opponents said it, and had it been Sydney’s part to explode the +fallacious reasoning, what a flood of ridicule he would have poured upon +these self-same sentiments! how triumphantly he must have exposed the +tame and unprofitable argument! how clearly proved that the policy of +doing nothing was a policy as old as human nature, and needed no +advocacy! To leave paganism alone, because caste is the most effectual +means which could be invented for keeping a race in bondage—to put an +end to all injudicious eagerness for conversions, because these happy +idolators are very comfortable as they are, and our benevolence is +thrown away,—if Sydney had not made the argument—had it only by good +luck come from the other side—how Sydney could have scattered it in +pieces! + +Perhaps the happiest hit he ever made was that which covered the unhappy +State of Pennsylvania with the shame it was worthy of. No one else could +have done this so well. His indignation and vehemence—his grief at the +disgrace thus brought upon a country where his own opinions were +supreme—are pointed, and brought home, by the keen touch of ridicule, +with a characteristic force and pungency. He is grieved; but still he +has a satisfaction in pulling the stray American to pieces, and making +over his jewellery to afflicted bondholders. He is angry; but still he +can laugh at his proposed uniform, the S. S. for Solvent States, which +he would have the New Yorkers wear upon their collars. We have all a +wicked enjoyment of other people’s castigation; and we are afraid the +public in general—those of them who hold no Pennsylvanian bonds—were +amply consoled by Sydney Smith’s letters for the sins of their brethren. +Lady Holland tells us that the excitement in America was extraordinary, +and that shoals of letters, and occasional homely presents, poured upon +her father from all quarters. It was a fair blow, downright and +unanswerable; and no one could have a better right to assault in full +force a public dishonesty than such a man as this, honest to the bottom +of his heart. + +We cannot undertake to predict whether or not the reputation of Sydney +Smith will be a lasting reputation. His published works are not very +remarkable, and they refer so entirely—saving the sketches of +philosophy—to current books and current events—events and books which, +to use his own phrase, have blown over—that it seems very doubtful if +they can last over two or three generations. Admirable good sense, good +English, and good morality, even with the zest of wit to heighten them, +do not make a man immortal. They have already done their part, and +earned their triumph; the future is in other hands. Herein lies the +compensating principle of literature. The critic (and there have been +critics more brilliant than Sydney) has his day. Yes, there he stands +over all our heads, bowling us down like so many ninepins—small matter +to him that in this book lies somebody’s hopes, and heart, and fortune. +Little cares he for the stifled edition, the turned tide of popular +favour. He goes about it coolly: it is his business—practising his +deathstroke upon palpitating young poets and unhappy novel-writers, as +the German executioner practised upon cabbages. We die by the score +under this literary Attila. Our poor bits of laurel, our myrtle-sprigs +and leaves of bay, are crushed to dust beneath his ruthless footsteps. +With a barbarous triumph he rides over us, extinguishes our poor +pretensions, puts us down. Never mind, humiliated brother! The critic +has his day. By-and-by there will only be a distant _sough_ of him in +the curious byways of historic lore. But the Book, oh patient +Lazarus!—the Book will live out a century of reviewers, and be as young +a hundred years hence as it is to-day. + +Wherefore we seriously opine that a lasting reputation as a writer is +not to be expected for Sydney Smith. As long as the children’s children +of his contemporaries remain to tell and to remember what they heard in +the days of their youth, so long his influence as a man will live among +us. Had this biography been less a work of love, and more a work of art, +it might have added a longer recollection to this natural memory; for +its hero is so true an example of the kind of man whom British men +delight to honour, that he might well have been singled out for a +popular canonisation. As it is, this simple presentment of Sydney Smith +is enough to place him upon his true standing-ground, and recommend him, +far above all differences of opinion, or strifes of politics, to the +affectionate estimation of every reader. A man honest, courageous, and +truthful, struggling bravely through the ordinary trials of everyday +existence, bearing poverty and neglect, bearing flattery and favour, +coming forth unharmed through more than one fiery ordeal, and with the +lightest heart and kindest temper, skilled in that art of ruling himself +which is greater than taking a city. A little more sentiment, or a +little less practical vigour, might have broken the charm. In his own +person, as he lived, he is the very hero of social success and +prosperity—for under no circumstances could he have appeared an +unappreciated genius or a disappointed man. We are somewhat scornful in +these days of the qualities of success. Indeed, it seems a general +opinion, that the higher a man’s gifts are, the less are his chances. +But many a youth of genius would do well to note the teachings of such a +cordial and manly life as this, and mark how the gayest heart, and the +most brilliant intelligence, are honoured and exalted by such homely +virtues as self-restraint and self-denial. Sydney Smith in Oxford, +living upon his hundred pounds a-year; Sydney Smith in Netherhaven, +honestly enduring his curacy; taking no excuse from his wit; yielding +nothing to his natural love of that society in which he shone; +undisheartened by a profession which he did not love, and duties for +which he had no distinct vocation; honestly, under all circumstances, +maintaining his honour, his independence, and his purity, is a better +moral lesson than all the lecturings of all the societies in the world. + +We cannot perceive any closer resemblance, for our own part, much as +they are named together, between Swift and Sydney Smith, than the merely +evident and external one—that both were famous wits, and both somewhat +unclerical clergymen. Sydney has the mightiest advantage in moral +sunshine and sweetness over the redoubtable Dean. The Canon of St Paul’s +broke no hearts and injured no reputations. There is not a cloud upon +his open and bright horizon, except the passing clouds of Providence, +and bitterness was not in his kind and generous heart. There is only one +grand blunder in his life, and that is his profession. In such a matter +the dutifullest of sons is not excusable in “yielding to his father’s +wishes.” We can appreciate the sacrifice, but we cannot approve it. It +was filial, but it was wrong. Sydney Smith is an honest man, a truthful +man, and in ordinary life unblamable. We have no right to criticise the +piety or religiousness of such a person in any private position, but +with a clergyman the circumstances are different—and the veriest sinner +requires something more than professional propriety as the motive and +inspiration of the teachers of the faith. + +So strong and usual is this feeling, that we do not doubt this book must +have been an entire revelation to a great majority of its readers. We +knew his great reputation; we knew his wit, and the general tenor of his +opinions; yet we were shy of a man whose position and fame seemed almost +antagonistic, and set up in our own mind a natural opposition between +the sermons of the preacher and the _bon mots_ of the wit. This +biography resolves the puzzle. Full of mirth, spontaneous and +unlaboured, full of honest consistency and good-will, we accept Sydney +Smith as he was, and judge of him by his own principles and actions—his +own standard of perfection. Who does not lack some crowning charm to add +a fuller and a sweeter excellence to all the lesser virtues? This man +was distinguished in all social qualities—virtuous, conscientious, +incorruptible, doing bravely every duty which he perceived in his way; +and we can point to no truer type of an upright and open-hearted +Englishman, than the bright portrait of this modest volume, the true +monument and effigies of Sydney Smith. + + + + + PEERAGES FOR LIFE. + +[We rarely have two articles upon one subject in the same Number of the +Magazine, but we have no hesitation in publishing the two following +short papers upon the unhappy and singularly ill-timed attempt to +destroy the hereditary character of one branch of the Legislature. The +first paper is by an English, and the second by a Scotch lawyer.] + + +It is not, we hope, from any party feeling (though party feelings are, +as our readers know, entitled, in our view of things, to grave and deep +consideration), that we enter our protest against the measure of +creating peers for life,—a measure which its authors, unless they are +the most shortsighted men that ever presumed to meddle with great +questions, must know will end by changing the character of the House of +Lords, and which we really believe to be an attempt as rash as it is +uncalled for, and as little likely to conciliate the favour of any but +those who dislike a government by King, Lords, and Commons, as it is to +produce any one solid or permanent advantage. To those who think that +the English constitution—a constitution which has floated like an ark +over the waves which have swallowed up so many of those baseless fabrics +that were hailed by sciolists as the proudest efforts of +legislation—should be, we do not say repaired, and improved, and +fortified, but _overthrown_, to make room for “some gay creature of the +element” to people the sunbeam for a moment and then to disappear—we do +not address ourselves; for we could not hope to produce any effect by +reasoning upon those on whom the evidence of their senses is thrown +away. But we would ask such of our readers as do not belong to the class +we have just mentioned, calmly and dispassionately to examine with us +this important question—premising only that the Reform Bill was by no +means so serious and menacing a change in the constitution of the Lower, +as the creation of peers for life (if that disastrous measure is really +to be accomplished), will produce in the Upper House of Parliament. The +Reform Bill shuffled the cards; this measure will change the pack. It is +at once exotic and obsolete. + +The question may be considered in two ways. First, Has the Crown the +power to make such a creation? Secondly, Supposing it to possess the +power, is such an exercise of it constitutional? With regard to the +first question, it is, even on the showing of its supporters, an +extremely doubtful one. “Rectissime illud receptum est, ut leges non +solum suffragio legislatoris sed etiam tacito consensu omnium per +desuetudinem abrogantur,” is a maxim embodied in the works of those +masters of jurisprudence, to whom alone, to use the words of one of +their most illustrious scholars, reason seems to have unveiled her +mysteries. Nor is the principle unknown to our municipal jurisprudence. +It was a law that every member of a city or borough should be chosen +from among the inhabitants of the place which he was selected to +represent. This law was abrogated by desuetude only. Many similar +instances might probably be found by any one who would examine our +ancient statutes. That custom is the best interpreter of written law is +an axiom of jurisprudence; and how much more forcibly does the argument +apply to unwritten law, to an obsolete prerogative raked from the dust +and cobwebs of feudal barbarity, and dragged forth “in luce asiæ” into +the meridian blaze of civilisation, to act upon the destinies of living +men. The revival of obsolete prerogatives was one great and just +complaint against the Government of Charles I. Lord Clarendon, his +ablest advocate, bewails the injudicious and violent measures that +unhappy monarch took in reviving the Forest Laws, and obliging gentlemen +of certain incomes to compound for knighthood. Had he attempted to strip +the peerage of its hereditary character, the outcry would have been +louder and more reasonable; for of course our argument applies only to +the case of conferring, by a peerage for life, a voice or seat in +Parliament. “The common law of England,” says a great lawyer and a great +thinker, “is nothing else but the common custom of the realm, and a +custom which has obtained the force of a law is always said to be ‘Jus +non scriptum.’ ... Being only matter of fact, and consisting in use and +practice, it can be RECORDED AND REGISTERED NOWHERE BUT IN THE MEMORY OF +THE PEOPLE.” Again the same eloquent writer says:—“A custom takes +beginning, and grows to perfection in this manner: When a reasonable act +once done is found to be good and beneficial to the people, and +agreeable to their nature and disposition, then do they use and practise +it again and again—and so, by often iteration and multiplication of the +act it becomes a custom; and being continued without interruption time +out of mind, it obtains the force of a law.” This is exactly the basis +on which the “rerum perpetuo similiter judicatarum auctoritas” must +rest, and exactly the reverse of that prerogative, by the sudden +exertion of which, after a lapse of four centuries, it is proposed to +give to any minister the power of swamping the House of Peers. What +would be said now if any one were to attempt to put on “the statute of +uses” the meaning which those by whom it was enacted undoubtedly meant +that it should have, and which was frustrated by the narrow decision, as +Mr Hallam calls it, of the Judges? If any man were insane enough to +attempt such an argument, would he not be silenced at once, and forfeit, +for the remainder of his life, all claim to the character of a rational +being? Would he not be told that, after the current of precedent had run +for centuries in one direction, after all the Estates in England had +been settled and disposed of on the faith of those precedents, it was +mere mischievous pedantry to question the validity of the original +interpretation? Now, the last time when the Crown gave the right of +voting in the House of Lords to any one who would not transmit the same +right to his children, to any one whose blood was not ennobled, was long +before the period when the statute of uses passed into a law. The four +or five cases cited to justify such a stretch of authority are taken +from times when the boundaries of the constitution fluctuated +incessantly,—when sometimes the king oppressed the barons, and sometimes +the barons destroyed the king,—when one encroached upon the other, as he +or they were uppermost in a series of victories and defeats equally +oppressive to the people, and equally inconsistent with all regular +government,—when the soil of England was drenched with the blood of the +yeoman, and the axe of the executioner was red with the blood of the +noble,—“in stormy and tempestuous times,” to use the language of a great +and upright magistrate, Chief-Justice Crew, “when the government was +unsettled, and the kingdom in competition,”—when Bohun, and Mowbray, and +Mortimer passed away—nay, when Plantagenet himself became a shadow and a +dream. Will any man say that this was a period when our constitution was +understood? that this is the time when its parts were adjusted to each +other?—when, though the noble outline of it might be discernible, its +lineaments were complete? At that time the Crown granted or withheld +writs to boroughs at its pleasure, and so moulded the House of Commons. +It summoned a man to take his seat in one Parliament and not in another, +and so modelled the House of Lords. But even of these cases, drawn from +those times of turbulence and confusion, while the elements of our +constitution were at war with each other, predominating or subsiding +with every capricious turn of fortune, one only has any bearing on the +question. For, as has been said before, the question is not one of +compliment or precedence; it does not relate to the power of the +sovereign to gratify a morbid and spurious appetite for vulgar notoriety +by a mongrel title, or to reward vice by flattering the abject vanity of +some frivolous prostitute; it relates to his power of giving a share in +the legislation of England without that guarantee for independence +which, during four hundred years, has been thought essential to its +exercise. Now, in the case of Sir John Cornewall, who was created Lord +Fauchope for life, the prerogative was exercised with the assent of the +House of Lords. There remains, therefore, the solitary case of Lord +Berners, in the reign of Henry VI.—a case that is extremely doubtful—to +justify this exercise of the prerogative in the year of grace 1856. If, +then, law is to be controlled or modified by usage—if the “lex et +consuetudo Parliamenti” are not to be put aside—it must be admitted +that, even in the absence of any negative argument, the right of the +Crown is extremely questionable, in spite of the dictum of Lord Coke, +and of the writers by whom he has been copied. Lord Coke, it may be +remembered, has fallen into acknowledged errors. He was wrong in +asserting that a justice of peace had no power of holding a person +accused of felony to bail. He was wrong in asserting that common law +ought to prevail against the express words of an Act of Parliament. But +there _are_ strong negative arguments. In Lord Purbeck’s case, which was +argued before the celebrated Lord Shaftesbury, who was certainly not +ignorant of the principles of the constitution, it was stated by the +Attorney-general that the king could create a peer for life. This +doctrine was at once questioned by Lord Shaftesbury; and in that opinion +Lord Nottingham, the creator of equity, though differing with him as to +the case immediately before him, acquiesced. + +It is difficult for any one who weighs these arguments to resist the +conclusion at which Lord Lyndhurst and Lord Campbell, Lord St Leonard’s +and Lord Brougham—laying by on an occasion of such vast importance all +party differences and political hostility—have arrived, that an +instrument made four hundred years ago, before the constitution had been +made, before the disposition, occasions, circumstances, the moral, +civil, and social habits to which that noble fabric owes its existence +had disclosed themselves, cannot in the eye of reason justify a violent +change in the long-established, the peculiar, and the distinguishing +character of the House of Lords. + +There is (_Parl. Hist._, vol. i. page 890) a remarkable case which has +never been cited, we believe, and which shows that the House of Lords +exercised the right of excluding an unworthy member from its +deliberations. It is the case of Lord De la Ware in the reign of Edward +VI. “He had attempted to poison his uncle, and was by an _order of +Parliament_ excluded from any estate or honour that might come to him +after his uncle’s death.” The precedent in favour of the Crown dates +from a period far more remote than this. If the Crown quote the +fifteenth century, why may not the House of Lords quote the sixteenth? +And it should be remarked that this is a prerogative which there must +have been constant motives for using, and the non-exertion of which, +therefore, furnishes a very cogent argument against its existence. +Harrington, in his _Oceana_, particularly censures Richard II. under the +name of Adoxus, for creating peers “who had hands to dip in the royal +purse, but no shoulders to support the throne.” We know what became of +that prince and his newly-made Caryatides. Our peers are not to perform +the functions Virgil assigned to our fathers— + + “Purpurea intexti tollant aulæa Britanni.” + +They are not to be courtiers, or geologists, or engineers, or builders +of crystal palaces, or presidents of councils of art, or even judges, +but _legislators_, mediators between the Crown and the people—an office +that may dignify the greatest abilities, and satisfy the most generous +ambition. + +We come now to the second branch of the question, how far such a measure +can be considered constitutional,—meaning by that, how far it is in +conformity with the spirit and genius of that form of government to +which we owe, during so many ages, and during so many vicissitudes, the +tranquil possession of political freedom. Certainly the time chosen to +cut one of the strands of the cable of our anchor is a singular one. +Freedom, with the exception of the countries governed by the King of +Sardinia, has been overthrown or undermined in every part of the +continent of Europe. Nobody can doubt that a main cause to which the +present condition of France is to be attributed, is the want of a body +of hereditary legislators; the want, that is, of a powerful +aristocracy,—in other words, of a House of Lords. Nobody can doubt that +the forlorn troop of servile beggars distinguished throughout Germany by +the titles of Earl, and Baron, and Freihern, is a main reason why all +attempts to establish constitutional freedom in that country have only +served to illustrate the most ludicrous ignorance of human affairs, +coupled with the most abject tergiversation, and to drag to light +projects, compared with which the principles by which the Caffres are +governed may be considered luminous, and the whims of the politicians of +Laputa may pass for reasonable. We object to any scheme for Germanising +England. We should be sorry to see the influence of the Court, where we +now see other hopes and objects. We should be sorry to see the varied +elements of our social state crushed into one undistinguished mass of +servitude. Our universities have been tampered with; the next attempt is +on the House of Lords. It is the fashion to speak lightly of +representative government. “A weak man doth not well consider this, and +a fool doth not understand it.” The disgust and contempt felt throughout +France for the corruption and time-serving of the mongrel House of +Peers, consisting of misplaced men of letters, venal courtiers, affected +artists, hireling writers in the daily press, shallow coxcombs, and a +few besides of illustrious names—the last scattered like the nails in a +wall over a wide blank surface—account for the sympathy with which all +reasonable men hailed its annihilation. Such an institution as our House +of Lords may be destroyed, but cannot be created; and with these +examples staring us in the face, and loudly forbidding the attempt, in +defiance of reason and of experience, in contradiction to the sound +feelings of the nation, an old prerogative that has, “like unscoured +armour, hung by the wall so long,” that the announcement of its +existence may furnish a question perhaps for the amusement of +antiquaries of much leisure and little thought, but which, to all real +purposes, has become as obsolete as writing pure English—is made the +instrument of changing, at the will of the Sovereign, a fundamental part +of our constitution. This is done, too, during a war, when great +political alterations are usually suspended, as if it were the merest +trifle, not worth attention or debate, amounting to nothing more than, +and quite as much of course as, the appointment of some commission to +recommend the maintenance of all the wretched chicane by which the +course of justice in England has been so long impeded. Some knowledge of +the constitution which he proposes so presumptuously to violate, some +little acquaintance with the great writers who have dwelt upon its +excellences, and held them up to the gratitude of posterity, would be a +useful ingredient in the composition of a Chancellor. Some knowledge of +history (we mean of course English history) might, on the eve of so +perilous an undertaking, be found serviceable to the lawyer who +(whatever be the mysterious influence under which he acts, and no doubt +in perfect unconsciousness) sets himself to work to pull down in cold +blood, and with the blandest countenance, one of the safeguards of our +liberties. For, with deference to such authority, we look upon the +privileges of the Peers as conferred upon them for the public good. To +suppose them given or kept for any other purpose, would be a narrow and +unworthy view. If they are inconsistent with that object, they cannot be +swept away too soon. If they contribute to it, they cannot be too +religiously preserved. For four hundred years, during which the parts of +our balanced government have been made to harmonise with and give mutual +aid to each other, the deliberate opinion of ages and generations in +this country has been in favour of their existence. It is a fair +inference that all these writers, historians, and statesmen, have not +been wholly destitute of political sagacity, or in a conspiracy to +promote abuse. It is a fair inference that a measure which Lord Grey +repudiated, which Mr Pitt would not hear of, which Mr Fox would have +scouted with every expression of scorn that his vehement nature could +have found in his copious vocabulary, is a rash and unconstitutional +experiment. But we know what the class (unfortunately it is a numerous +one) is who “rush in where angels fear to tread;” we know, too, that the +gloom which enveloped these great statesmen has been dissipated by the +light which has flashed with such marvellous lustre upon my Lord +Cranworth. It is hard upon this land that admitted mediocrity should be +no safeguard against reckless extravagance. If, in the days when the +wild hurricane of Reform was sweeping over us, some man of an irregular +but powerful intellect had, in a moment of irritation and +disappointment, suggested such a measure, we should have consoled +ourselves by reflecting that inundations atone for the mischief they +inflict by the fertility they occasion. We should have accepted the +benefit, and been on our guard against the evil. But when a grave +commonplace sober gentleman, decent to a fault, by no means of an ardent +or romantic disposition, misled by no passions, carried astray by no +impetuosity, not intoxicated by learning, carefully and effectually +guarded by provident nature against the dangers to which genius is +exposed when such a person reverses the famous line, and in a paroxysm +of impotence, raging without strength, and overflowing without +fulness—“precipitately dull” and dispassionately mischievous—mimics the +freaks and caprices for which inspiration only can atone, Heraclitus +might laugh at his distempered activity, and Democritus weep for the +fate of the country in which he legislates. The line— + + “Ut lethargicus hic, cum fit pugil et medicum urget,” + +describes him. There is no hope, says an acute writer, for the lover of +an ugly woman. There is as little for those who suffer by the +absurdities of a commonplace man. “Whenever you commit an error, Mr +Foresight,” says the wit in _Love for Love_, “you do it with a great +deal of prudence and discretion, and consideration.” + +It should be recollected that there are many prerogatives of the Crown +which, if exercised injudiciously—that is, unconstitutionally—would soon +become intolerable. The Crown has the undoubted power of making peace or +war; but if Ministers were to agree that York should be occupied by a +Russian garrison for ten years, or that we should pay a tribute to +Russia for that time, would it be any argument in favour of such clauses +that the Crown had only exercised its undoubted prerogative? The Crown +has the power of pardoning offenders; would that justify the pardon of +every offender as soon as he is convicted? Many persons think that the +Crown has never lost the power which it once most unquestionably +possessed, of raising the denomination of the coin; is there any maniac, +even among the worshippers of Ruskin, who would counsel such an +experiment? The prerogatives of the Crown, even when most +unquestionable, must be exercised in conformity with the spirit of the +constitution. It is the peculiar character of our constitution that it +contains within it the three great principles of monarchy, aristocracy, +and democracy, blended together so intimately, yet perhaps so +inexplicably, that the Crown has no strength, except in connection with +the aristocracy and the people: the aristocracy is nothing when opposed +to the Crown and the people; and the people have little power, if +abandoned by the aristocracy and the Crown. Fortunate indeed have been +the circumstances which enabled our fathers to complete this mysterious +union. The strength of our system is its harmony. Take away the beauty +of its proportions, and its energies are at an end. That amazing system, +the work not of giddy choice and tumultuous violence, but of the “author +of authors,” Time, with enough military vigour for war, with enough +civil influence to make military power in time of peace impracticable, +with the checks apparently so hostile, in reality so much in unison, as +to make it the most perfect moral machine that ever was contrived to +perpetuate freedom among a people—would be violated and destroyed by any +such organic innovation. + +What promises can exceed its performance? And it is this which, for the +sake of putting a special pleader among the Law Lords, or of satisfying +the vulgar ambition of a few discontented men, ignorant of their proper +sphere, we are about to put in jeopardy. Does any man think that the +power of the Crown is too little in the House of Lords? Is not the +reverse notoriously the truth? Is not the influence of the Crown over +the Bishops, who are not Peers but Lords of Parliament, matter of just +complaint? Would not the power of the Crown be increased by creating +Peers for life? Would it not, especially in a country where a vulgar +appetite for technical rank is but too conspicuous, increase the number +of those who would gain by subserviency to the Crown in that assembly? +If you suddenly shift the ballast, your vessel will soon be under water— + + “Quamvis pontica pinus + Sylvæ, filia nobilis + Jactes et genus et nomen inutile.” + +On the other hand, if the creation of life-peers would give too much +influence to the Crown, beyond all doubt it would give a most invidious +distinction to those already ennobled families, among whom the son of +the mechanic may now hope to take his place. It would tend to make them +a separate caste, cut off (we speak of what must happen in less than a +century) from the sympathies of their fellow-citizens. Such a state of +things could not long continue. + +It is but too deeply rooted in the nature of man to press social +distinctions too far, and insist on them too much. And could anything be +devised to swell the pride of a hereditary Peer more effectually than +the sight of upstart counterfeits, bearing the same title with himself, +but distinguished, nevertheless, by an everlasting badge of inferiority? +The classes and professions from which such peers were taken would share +in their degradation, and in the hostility which it would inspire— + + “Touch them with several fortunes, + The greater scorns the lesser.... + Raise me this beggar, and deny’t that lord— + The senator shall bear _contempt hereditary_.” + +Much, no doubt, may be said about the dangers and evils of unworthy +successors to great names. Taken separately, such arguments are +powerful; taken with reference to a collective body, they are weak. The +question is—on which side does the balance of good preponderate? Along +with many evils, and great tendencies to abuse, there are many +advantages in hereditary honour. A true natural aristocracy is an +essential part of any large body rightly constituted. “It is formed out +of a class of legitimate presumptions, which, taken as generalities, +must be admitted for actual truths. To be bred in a place of estimation; +to see nothing low or sordid from one’s infancy; to be taught to respect +one’s self; to be habituated to the censorial inspection of the public +eye; to look early to public opinion; to stand upon such elevated ground +as to be enabled to take a large view of the widespread and infinitely +diversified combinations of men and affairs in a large society; to have +leisure to read, to reflect, to converse; to be enabled to draw the +court and attention of the wise and learned wherever they are to be +found; to be habituated in armies to command and obey; to be taught to +despise danger in pursuit of honour and of duty; to be formed to the +greater degree of vigilance, foresight, and circumspection in a state of +things where no fault is committed with impunity, and the slightest +mistakes draw on the most ruinous consequences; to be led to a guarded +and regulated conduct from a sense that you are considered an instructor +of your fellow-citizens in their highest concerns; to be employed as an +administrator of law and justice, and to be thereby among the first +benefactors, to mankind;”—such is Mr Burke’s argument in favour of a +hereditary aristocracy. As a sole or even a predominating element, it +degenerates into an insolent domination; as an ingredient, tempered, +controlled, and subdued by others, it has, in our opinion, a dignified +and refining influence. And here we may remark, that almost the sole +barrier to despotic power in France for many years was the firmness and +integrity of its parliaments, which were in fact, though not in name, an +hereditary aristocracy. Let any one compare the proceedings of that body +with those of Louis Philippe’s peers, and then say on which side the +balance of good predominates. The cautious and traditional wisdom of +those great bodies interposed often between the people and their +oppressors. Machiavelli speaks of them with admiration and respect; and +their functions were well expressed by a First President of the +parliament of Provence, when he said to the king, whom he +resisted—“Souffrez, sire, qu’ avec peine, haine, et envie nous +défendions votre autorité.” One of the worst acts of a bad reign was to +substitute for this great aristocracy, which, with all its faults, had +done great services to its country—holding the mean “inter abruptam +contumaciam et deforme obsequium” with singular judgment—a set of +political adventurers, called the Parliament Maupeou, many of them the +mere creatures of the court and Madame Dubarri, and nevertheless +welcomed to their new office by the approbation of the shallow conceited +writers of the day. The pretext was a better administration of +justice—“Le préambule s’exprimait dans un langage que n’eussent pas +désavoué les philosophes sur la nécessité de _réformer les abus dans +l’administration de la justice_.” “Absit omen!” Then purity of justice +was the pretext of a tyrant; now it is that of a few sottish and +purblind democrats. The result in France is known to every one who has +read Beaumarchais, who in his celebrated Mémoires branded the turpitude +and gross corruption of this newly constituted body with ineffaceable +infamy. Then France began to see the difference between the minions of a +court and a hereditary assembly, between the d’Aguesseaus, and the +Goezmans, who were in their place; and in spite of Voltaire, they agreed +with Mabli, that the old parliament was better than the “Parlement +Postiche.” To this fact we will add the prophetic remark of Montesquieu, +“Le pouvoir intermédiaire subordonné le plus naturel est celui de la +noblesse; elle entre en quelque façon dans l’essence de la monarchie, +dont la maxime fondamentale est, Point de monarque, point de +noblesse—point de noblesse, point de monarque—_mais on a un despote_!” +Is there no danger that, if the House of Lords is lowered, the House of +Commons may ruin itself by its own excessive power? + +The question, however, now is, not whether you will establish a +hereditary peerage, but whether you will take away from it its +stability?—it is not, whether you will abolish the House of Lords, but +whether you will run the risk of polluting it by time-servers? Have +there been no times in our history when the exercise of such a +prerogative as is now claimed for the Crown would have been most +dangerous? If James II. had imagined that such authority belonged to +him, can any man doubt that he would have filled the House of Lords, as +he did the bench of justice, with his Roman Catholic dependants? Is +there not reason to believe that, as each party predominates, it will +flood the House of Lords with these creatures of a day, to confirm its +own ascendancy? Would the minister who created at once twelve peers to +ratify the Peace of Utrecht have been satisfied with so limited a +number, if so convenient a method as has now been discovered had +presented itself to him? If peerage for life had been created, or even +if the Lords had been menaced with such a measure, the motion for taking +the Address into consideration, on the 23d Nov. 1685, would never have +been carried without a division; nor would the dignified and manly +language held in that House have offered so striking a contrast to the +pitiful and abject tone and demeanour of the subservient House of +Commons. As it was, Lord Sunderland is reported to have said that, to +carry the measures of the Court, he would make Lord Churchill’s troop of +guards peers. But he recoiled, base as he was, from such an attempt; and +are we to legislate on the conviction that we shall never again have a +bad king and an unscrupulous ministry, and that the firmness and +independence of the House of Lords can never again be of any service to +the constitution? Can we foretell that there may not be other battles to +be fought, and other victories to be won? The attempt to make the +hereditary peers a caste by another Lord Sunderland, was baffled in the +reign of George the First; we trust that an attempt, which must have the +same effect if it succeeds, and which must, moreover, strengthen the +influence of the Crown, among a body where it needs no strengthening, +will not prosper in the reign of Queen Victoria. To change the relations +of the several parts of the constitution to each other, is to make the +lessons of history, purchased as they have been with the best blood of +our fathers, unavailing. The character of the House of Lords is, that +the honours of those who sit and vote in it are hereditary. It is so +described by Whigs and Tories, by lawyers and historians. It is in +consequence of that character that it has filled a wide space in +history, and that it is supported by a thousand time-hallowed +associations. Fill it with the nominees of a minister, it will no longer +serve to interpose any obstacle to the inconsiderate legislation which +an impetuous democracy is sometimes rash enough to insist upon. It may +serve to gratify the vanity of women, or of men as little fitted as +women to control the destinies of nations; it may provoke hostility by +distinctions, invidious when they are manifestly useless; it may even +register the edicts which it will be unable to dispute: but its genuine +functions will be gone for ever; and if ever the time should come when +its energies are required to serve either Crown or people, they will be +of as little account as those of the French Chamber of Peers in the hour +of trial, and of as little benefit to themselves and to their country. + +Why, then, should we unhinge the state, ruin the House of Lords, and +pursue confusion, to guard against an evil which, if it exists at all, +may be encountered by a far more specific and appropriate remedy? Wise, +indeed, should he be who should endeavour to recast a constitution which +has defended us alike from the unjust aggression of power, and the +capricious tyranny of the multitude. But if our rulers are weak, and our +councils infatuated, in the words of an old writer, we can only pray +that the Lord will enable us to suffer, what He by miracle only can +prevent. + + + + + THE WENSLEYDALE CREATION. + + +At a time when the attention of the nation is almost exclusively +directed to the colossal struggle in which Great Britain has taken so +conspicuous a part—when the deepest anxiety is felt regarding the issue +of the conferences at Paris, which must have the effect either of +restoring peace to Europe, or of rendering the contest more desperate in +its character than before—we were surely entitled to expect that no +attempts would be made, at least by Her Majesty’s advisers, to alter or +innovate any acknowledged part of the fundamental constitution of the +realm. It is with great pain that we feel ourselves called upon to +denounce such an attempt, which appears to us not the less dangerous +because furtively made, and seemingly insignificant of its kind. All +permanent innovations, all great changes and revolutions, may be traced +to a very trifling source. The whole constitution of a country may be +overthrown in consequence of some narrow departure from its fundamental +rules—a departure which possibly may appear at the time too trivial to +demand remonstrance, but which, being drawn into a precedent, may, in +the course of years, be the means of producing the most serious and +disastrous effects. The tree that could have withstood the blast of the +wildest hurricane, will become rotten at the core, if the rain can +penetrate to its bole, even through a miserable crevice. The dykes of +Holland, which defy the winter storms, have, ere now, yielded to the +mining of that stealthy engineer, the rat, and provinces have been +inundated in consequence. And, therefore, it well becomes us to be +jealous of any attempt, however trivial, or however specious—for +plausible reasons can always be adduced on behalf of any kind of +innovation—to alter the recognised principles of our constitution, or to +introduce a totally new element into its framework. + +We allude, of course, to the attempt which Her Majesty’s advisers have +thought proper to make, at altering the hereditary constitution of the +House of Lords, by the introduction of Life-Peers into that body. The +question is now being tried in the case of Mr Baron Parke, who has been +created Baron Wensleydale, without remainder to heirs; and it is +impossible, looking to the attendant circumstances, to avoid the +conclusion that this creation has been deliberately made, for the +purpose of establishing a precedent for opening the doors of the highest +deliberative assembly to a new order of nobles, who are not to have the +privilege of transmitting their rank and titles to posterity. For, if +the only object had been, as is alleged, to recruit the numbers of life +Lords upon whom the task of hearing and deciding appeals from the +inferior courts of the country must devolve, there was obviously no +necessity, nor even reason in this instance, for departing from the +usual conditions of the peerage. Lord Wensleydale (for so we are bound +to call him, in virtue of his patent of nobility from the Queen) is a +man of advanced years, and has no son. In all human probability, +therefore, the title, even though it had been destined to heirs-male, as +is the common form, would become extinct at his death. Want of fortune, +as the means of sustaining, in the future time, the social position +which a peer ought to occupy, has often been alleged, and with reason, +as a sufficient obstacle in the way of the elevation of commoners, +distinguished for their acquirements and genius, to the Peerage. It has +been said, and with great truth, that the present and fleeting gain is +more than counterbalanced by the future and permanent disadvantage. For +the acquirements and genius of the man so elevated are but personal, and +perish with him—the heirs remain as pauper peers, no ornament to their +order, and may, for a seemingly inadequate consideration, be willing to +surrender their independence, and use their legislative powers at the +bidding of an unscrupulous minister. But, in the present case, where the +chance of succession was so small, there could be little room for such +an objection; perhaps there was none, for the fortune of Lord +Wensleydale may be, for anything we know to the contrary, quite adequate +to the maintenance of a peerage; therefore we must hold that this case +was selected purposely to try the question. Indeed, supposing that Her +Majesty’s advisers were justified in making the attempt to alter the +constitution of the House of Lords by the introduction of Peers for +life, they could hardly have selected a better instance. For, if it +should be decided or declared that there is a limit to the prerogative +of the Crown, and that the creation of a peer for life, like Lord +Wensleydale, is simply a personal honour, but does not carry along with +it the privilege of a seat in the House of Lords, all unseemly questions +of precedency will be avoided. In that case it is not likely that the +experiment will be renewed; for we may safely conclude that the object +of Her Majesty’s advisers in issuing this singular patent was not to +gratify Lord Wensleydale by the gift of a barren honour, but to make him +a member of the House of Peers, entitled to speak and to vote; and +thereby to establish a precedent for the future creation of a +non-hereditary peerage. + +Before entering into the questions of privilege and prerogative, it may +be as well to consider the reasons founded on expediency which have been +advanced in behalf of the creation of peerages for life. Such of her +Majesty’s ministers as have spoken upon the subject have been +exceedingly cautious and guarded in their language. None of them have +ventured to assert an opinion that, for the future, it would be +advisable to multiply this kind of peerages. Their arguments go little +beyond this—that whereas the appellate jurisdiction of the House of +Peers renders it necessary that at all times there should be among that +body persons intimately acquainted with the law, and qualified to act as +judges, it is for the advantage of the country that such creations +should be not permanent but temporary, not hereditary but personal. In +this there is not only some, but much plausibility. It is of the utmost +importance to the country that the highest legal talent should be +engaged for the last Court of Appeal; and we are not of the number of +those who consider that a court of appeal might be dispensed with. We +believe that the consciousness that there exists a tribunal which has +the power of reversing or altering their judgments, has conduced more +than anything else to stimulate the zeal, activity, and attention of the +judges in the ordinary courts of law; and it would be a very hazardous +experiment to give an irresponsible character to their decisions. We +think also, and we make this admission freely, that some decided steps +should be taken for the better regulation of the ultimate Court of +Appeal. The House of Peers, as a body, has long since abdicated its +right of sitting in judgment, except in some cases peculiar to the +peerage. The judicial duties are now invariably devolved upon judicial +Peers, that is to say, upon those who have either occupied or occupy the +highest judicial offices; and although the form of putting the question +to the House, after the opinion of the legal Peers has been delivered, +is still observed, no instance of any attempt on the part of other peers +to vote, has taken place for a long series of years. Thus the appellate +jurisdiction of the House has been confided to a small and fluctuating +committee, on whom attendance at the hearing of causes is not +compulsory; and although hitherto, as we verily believe to be the case, +the judgments have been such as to give general satisfaction, there is +no security for the continuance of a sufficiently qualified number of +adequate Judges. We think that some other arrangement for establishing +and securing a permanent tribunal of appeals should be adopted; but we +demur greatly to the plan now proposed of creating life-peerages for the +purpose of keeping the jurisdiction within the House of Lords. Very +wisely, we think, has it been provided that Judges shall not be eligible +to sit in the House of Commons. Their functions being of the utmost +importance to the wellbeing and safety of the community, it is above all +things desirable that they should not be allowed to mingle actively in +that strife of parties, which must, to a certain extent, in very many +cases, warp the judgment, or at least give a strong political bias. The +judicial atmosphere ought to be not only pure but calm, for so +constituted are the human frame and mind, that excitement of any kind is +apt to disturb the equilibrium of the judgment, and often suggests hasty +views, which will not bear the test of severe and dispassionate +investigation. Neither should the attention of a Judge be too much +directed to objects alien to his function. Undoubtedly there are minds +so active and capacious that they rebel against any restriction of their +powers, and go beyond their proper sphere, led away by a craving for +intellectual exercise, or under the influence of overpowering ambition. +But these constitute the exception, not the rule; and we humbly venture +to think that the best judges are to be found among the men who deviate +least from the tenor of their way, and who do not devote themselves +ardently to other occupations or pursuits. Therefore we have great +doubts as to the propriety of the system which would necessarily, to +some extent, expose the judge to the influences of the politician, or, +at any rate, distract his attention from what is or ought to be the main +object and purpose of his life. Besides this, it is not convenient or +decorous that there should be anywhere an unpaid tribunal upon which +such serious responsibilities devolve. Judges receive salaries in order +that they may be compelled to do their work, and overcome that tendency +towards indolence from which very few of the human race are altogether +free. The salaried Judge must act: he must attend to every case which is +brought before him, unless he can allege occasional failure of health, +or unless he declines on account of interest or affinity. But a +voluntary and unpaid Judge may absent himself at pleasure, and without +responsibility—a very serious matter to suitors, and, as we think, +inconsistent with the proper administration of justice. For many +reasons, therefore, it appears to us that the time has arrived when the +supreme appeal court of the realm should be placed upon a footing +different from that which has hitherto existed, and that it should be so +remodelled as to give it a permanent and responsible character. We have +already observed that, as regards the great body of the Peers, their +appellate jurisdiction and power is merely a name; and surely it is not +worth retaining the shadow when the substance has passed away. There are +evidently many deficiencies in the present system. The bulk of appeals +are from the Scottish courts; and as the Scotch law differs materially +from that of England, being based altogether upon a separate foundation, +it is important that at least one Judge, intimately acquainted with the +system, and trained to its technicalities, should be a member of the +court of last resort. Looking to the present state of the Scottish bar +and bench, we must confess that we entertain grave doubts whether any +competent lawyer could be found to undertake such a duty for the +unsubstantial reward of a life peerage; and we apprehend that no +satisfactory or thoroughly efficient arrangement for the determination +of appeals from the courts of England, Scotland, and Ireland can be +effected, unless based upon the principle of delegating the appellate +jurisdiction of the House of Peers to a court, holding its sittings in +London, comprising the highest legal talent which can be drawn from the +three kingdoms, but not necessarily, in so far as its members are +concerned, directly connected with the peerage. Of course, the Judges in +such a court of appeal should be, like all other Judges, the paid +servants of the State; and we are confident that such a measure, the +details of which would be matter of grave consideration, could not fail +to be acceptable, and must prove highly beneficial to the country at +large. Indeed, it is manifest that some such alteration of the law is +now peremptorily required; as it is upon the inconvenience and +insecurity of the working of the present system of appellate +jurisdiction, as vested nominally in the whole body of the House of +Peers, that the main arguments in favour of what we must consider as a +dangerous attempt to destroy the hereditary constitution of the Upper +House have been founded. + +These observations of ours have not been made at random. We know that +many of the highest and best legal authorities of our time have regarded +the uncertain state of the constitution of the last court of appeal with +considerable misgivings as to the future, and that they have entertained +a deep anxiety as to the possible result, if no definite arrangement +should be made. The establishment of a responsible tribunal, such as we +have hinted at, would, in any case, have deprived the inventors and +advocates of the creation of life-peerages of their only plausible plea; +because, as we have already remarked, none of them have ventured to +express their unqualified approval of the institution of life-peers, as +giving new blood to the Legislature—they merely take their stand upon +the judicial advantages which might result from the new method of +creation. But if the same advantages, or, as it appears to us, +advantages much more important and even precious to the public interest, +could be derived from the institution of a new court, framed in +accordance and consonance with the legal practice of the realm, and +calculated to give universal satisfaction and security, we apprehend +that the House of Lords would lose nothing if it renounced what, to the +great bulk of its members, is a pure fiction of authority. The +pretext—for it is nothing more—for the introduction of life-peerages, +has been rested upon a very narrow ground; namely, the necessity of +providing for the adequate discharge of the appellate jurisdiction of +the House. By consent of Queen, Lords, and Commons, to the erection of +an independent and responsible tribunal of appeal, of which the Law +Lords of Parliament might be members, the difficulty could be obviated +at once; and then—if it should still be proposed to make a radical +change in the constitution of the Upper House—the question may be argued +upon broad and general grounds. If in any quarter—we care not how high +it be—it is deemed advisable, or expedient, or creditable, or conducive +to the maintenance of the present constitution of the realm, that +life-peerages should hereafter be copiously introduced, let the subject +be ventilated and discussed with all imaginable freedom and latitude. +But this back-blow—this poor attempt, as we must needs think it to be, +of endeavouring to gain a precedent and an example by insidious means, +without the co-operation of Parliament—strikes us as peculiarly shabby; +and is anything but wise, inasmuch as it indicates a desire to push the +prerogative of the Crown beyond the point which has been held as +constitutional since the union of the three kingdoms. In a matter such +as this is, we need hardly repeat the words of Lord Lyndhurst, that we +do not speak of the Sovereign personally, but of the advisers of the +Sovereign. + +All that we have hitherto said relates to the _expediency_ of creating +life-peerages for the purpose of supplying possible deficiencies in the +number of Law Lords who now exercise the whole appellate jurisdiction of +the House of Peers. But the greater question is behind; and although we +approach the subject with considerable diffidence, we are constrained to +express our opinion that, in the case of Lord Wensleydale, the +prerogative of the Crown has been stretched beyond its proper limit. We +do not mean as to the title. The Crown is the fountain of honour; and +there seems to be little doubt that the Crown may create titles at +pleasure, without any violation of the constitution. The old orders of +Thanes and Vavasors may be resuscitated, or new orders of knighthood, +with extraordinary rank of precedence, may be formed. All that, and even +more than that, lies within the power of the Sovereign. But the +institution of a new estate, or a new order, or a new tenure of +nobility, which shall have the effect of augmenting or decreasing the +power of either of the two other recognised and established estates of +the realm, the Lords or the Commons, is an assumption or exercise of +power beyond the prerogative of the Crown; and we, who certainly do not +lean to the side of democracy, must oppose any such innovation, as +strongly and strenuously as we would do were the true privileges of the +Crown assailed. We deny not the right of the Queen to bestow honours and +titles, and to give rank and precedence; but the case is very different +when we find the Queen—or, to speak more accurately and properly, the +Queen’s advisers—attempting to alter the recognised hereditary character +of one of the legislative chambers. + +Let us then consider what is the constitution of the House of Lords. +Diligent search has been made for precedents to show that, at an early +period of English history, the Crown was in the use of granting peerages +for life only; and we are bound to allow that sufficient evidence has +been brought to establish the fact that, in the reign of Richard II., at +least one peerage of that nature was created. But those who will take +the trouble to peruse the elaborate reports upon the dignity of the +Peerage, issued in 1820, 1822, and 1825, will find that in those early +times the Crown assumed and exercised most arbitrary powers. Peers were +summoned or not summoned to Parliament according to the will of the +sovereign, and the right to exclude from Parliament a peer who had once +taken his seat, was exercised by the Crown in repeated instances. If +precedents drawn from the early history of England are to be accepted as +rules for interpreting the existing measure of the prerogative of the +Crown, we must necessarily conclude that the Crown has the power, +without trial or forfeiture, to suspend or take away the privileges of +any peer, and that this can be done simply by withholding a writ at the +time when Parliament is summoned. We doubt greatly whether even the +strongest stickler for prerogative would maintain that such a course +would be justifiable at the present day. But in truth we set very little +value upon such precedents, beyond what attaches to them as mere +antiquarian inquiries; and for this reason, that the ancient usage of +England in regard to peerages is of no value in determining the rights, +privileges, or position of members of the present House of Lords. It +seems to be forgotten that there is now no English House, nor are there +any Peers of England. The unions with Scotland and Ireland entirely +altered the character of the existing Peerage. To borrow the language of +the Third Report upon the Dignity;— + + “When the union of England and Scotland was accomplished in the reign + of Queen Anne, all the adult peers of the realm of England were + entitled to writs of summons in the characters of temporal Lords of + the Parliament of England, as that Parliament was then constituted; + _but there are now no longer any peers of the realm of England_. By + the union with Scotland, England as well as Scotland ceased to be + distinct realms; and all the peers of the realm of England, and all + the peers of the realm of Scotland, became, by the terms of the Treaty + of Union, _peers of the new kingdom of Great Britain_.” + +In like manner the union of Great Britain and Ireland produced a change +in the character of the Peerage:— + + “All the peers of Ireland, and all the Peers of Great Britain, and all + the peers of the United Kingdom since created, form, in some degree, + the second estate of the realm of the United Kingdom, qualified by the + power given to the peers of Ireland to divest themselves of their + privileges as such, under certain circumstances; but twenty-eight only + of the peers of Ireland are Lords of Parliament, being elected to + represent the rest of the peers of Ireland in Parliament, and their + election being for life. A power is also reserved to the Crown to + create new peers of Ireland, under certain circumstances; and the + peers so created become also part of the whole body of peers of the + United Kingdom, though not by their creation Lords of Parliament, and + though, by the terms of their creation, made peers of Ireland only. + + “It seems manifest, therefore, that not only the peers of the realm of + the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland at the present day, + but all the members of the legislative assemblies of the United + Kingdom, both as bodies, and as individual members of different + bodies, and in their several different and respective rights and + capacities, bear little resemblance to any of the members of the + legislative assemblies of the realm of England from the Conquest, + before and to the reign of John; and the peers of the realm of the + United Kingdom, both as a body and individually, are very different + from the peers of the realm of England, before the Union of England + and Scotland in the reign of Queen Anne, _and especially as many of + them are not Lords of Parliament_; and such of them as are elected to + represent the peers of Scotland, and such of them as are elected to + represent the peers of Ireland, are Lords of Parliament by election, + and not by virtue of their respective dignities, though the possession + of those dignities is a necessary qualification to warrant their + election.”—_Third Report on the Dignity of the Peerage_, pp. 34, 35. + +It is manifest, therefore, that such a question as this, affecting the +status and privileges of the Peerage of the United Kingdom, cannot be +settled by reference to early English precedents. There is no longer an +English peerage, neither is there an English Sovereign. The Acts of +Union have quite altered the character of the Peerage, for they have +established a clear and intelligible distinction between Peers of the +United Kingdom and Lords of Parliament. The mere possession of the +dignity by no means implies the right to sit in the House of Lords. With +the exception of sixteen who are elected to serve in each Parliament, +the whole body of what were the peers of Scotland, but who now are peers +of the United Kingdom, are excluded from the House of Lords, unless +qualified to sit in virtue of a new patent; and that portion of the +Peerage of the United Kingdom whose ancestors were peers of Ireland, are +represented in Parliament by twenty-eight of their number. It is +important that this distinction should be borne in mind; the more +especially because, by a loose and inaccurate mode of expression, many +people are led to think that the descendants of the old Scottish and +Irish peers are not peers of the United Kingdom. Yet such unquestionably +is their character; but though peers of the United Kingdom, they are not +necessarily members of the House of Lords. + +If, therefore, precedent is to be regarded as affording any rule for +ascertaining the extent of the Sovereign’s prerogative, it humbly +appears to us that no instance from the history of England previous to +the unions with Scotland and Ireland, can be accepted as satisfactory. +The laws of England, as a province or component part of the realm, may +have remained intact; but the character of the Peerage was entirely +altered. The question is not now, What were the powers or extent of the +prerogative of the monarchs of England? It is simply this, What are the +powers, and what is the prerogative of the Sovereign of the United +Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland? For otherwise, be it observed, the +search for precedents must be extended both to Scotland and Ireland, and +we apprehend that investigation so directed might lead to some curious +results. We know that King James, who succeeded to the throne of +England, had such an exalted notion of his prerogative, that in his +progress southward he actually tried in person, and condemned to death, +an unfortunate footpad, who in all probability would have received a +milder sentence from a less august tribunal. As to creations of the +peerage in Scotland, take the case of the Barony of Rutherford. That +peerage was created by Charles II., in 1661; a much more recent +authority than Richard II.; and the destination was to Andrew +Rutherford, and the heirs-male of his body, “quibus deficientibus, +quamcumque aliam personam seu personas quas sibi quoad vixerit, +quinetiam in articulo mortis, ad ei succedendum, ac fore ejus hæredes +talliæ et provisionis in eadem dignitate, nominare et designare +placuerit, secundum nominationem et designationem manu ejus +subscribendam, subque provisionibus restrictionibus et conditionibus a +dicto Andrea, pro ejus arbitrio, in dicta designatione experimendis.” In +short, if the first Lord Rutherford had no heirs-male, he was entitled +by this patent to assign the dignity, even on death-bed, to any person +whom he might choose to name; and there was nothing to prevent him, if +so disposed, from having nominated his footman to succeed him in the +peerage! Here is a precedent to which we respectfully request the +attention of those who are bent upon asserting the unlimited nature of +the royal prerogative; and we should like to know whether they are +prepared to maintain that such a patent, if granted now, would be +regarded as constitutional, and would be held sufficient to entitle _the +assignee_, not the heir, of the originally created peer to sit in the +House of Lords? Certainly we are entitled to demand, if this case of +Lord Wensleydale is to be decided upon precedents, a distinct answer to +the foregoing question. For, as we have already shown—we trust +distinctly, and we know incontrovertibly—the interest now at stake +concerns not the Peerage of England, which has long since ceased to +exist, but the interest of the Peerage of the United Kingdom; and +therefore precedents drawn from the history of England can have no more +weight than precedents drawn from the histories or records of Scotland +or of Ireland. + +We think that no weight whatever is to be given to such precedents. No +sovereign of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland has, till +now, attempted to alter the hereditary character of the Peerage. This is +the very first instance of a peerage for life granted in the monarchy +under which we live, and it cannot be considered otherwise than as an +innovation. We use that term in its most innocuous sense; not meaning +thereby to challenge the right of the Crown to confer a new description +of dignity, but simply marking the fact that the dignity, as granted, is +new. But the creation of such a dignity by no means carries with it the +right to a seat in the House of Lords. As we have already shown, many of +the Peers of the United Kingdom, all of whom are hereditary, are +expressly excluded from that House, not by will of the Sovereign alone, +but by express statute, bearing the authority of the Three Estates of +the realm. If there be any meaning whatever in the phrase that this is a +“limited monarchy,” it must be held to signify that the Crown cannot, +_ex proprio motu_, interfere with the constitution of the other two +Estates. It cannot, we know well, interfere arbitrarily with the +constitution of the House of Commons; but is it not an interference with +the constitution of the House of Lords, when we find a new kind of +peerage created, for the purpose of giving the party so created a voice +in the Legislature? Is that not directly contrary to constitutional +usage—to the “lex et consuetudo Parliamenti,” which has been justly held +as the great bulwark of our national freedom? On this point we invite +consideration; and the more deeply it is considered, the stronger, we +are assured, will be the conviction that the present attempt, if +successful, would be highly dangerous to the liberties of the country. + +All must agree with us that it is of the most vital importance that the +independence of the two national chambers should be maintained. The +House of Commons cannot be otherwise than independent, because it is +strictly electoral. All proposals which have hitherto been made to place +a certain number of seats at the disposal of ministers, or rather to +allow ministers to sit and vote without representing a constituency, +have been scouted; and although very plausible arguments have from time +to time been advanced to prove the expediency of such an arrangement, +these have failed to convince the people of this country that it would +be safe to depart, in any case, from the electoral system of return. The +House of Peers hitherto has been independent, because, though the Crown +has the right of creating new peers, that right has only been exercised +according to the existing and understood conditions; and the hereditary +constitution of the House renders it impossible to suppose that any +undue or exorbitant exercise of the power of the Crown, in creating new +peers, can permanently affect its independence. It by no means follows +that the successor of the original peer is to be swayed by the same +motives which affected his father, or that he will tread implicitly in +his footsteps; and therefore, even in times of great excitement, the +power of creation has been exercised within limits by the advisers of +the Crown. Lord Brougham, who, in the days of the Reform Bill, was not +very scrupulous, intended, as he tells us himself, to advise his +sovereign, William IV., to exercise his prerogative to an extent which +never had been attempted before, and which, we devoutly trust, will +never be attempted again. He says, “When I went to Windsor with Lord +Grey, I had a list of EIGHTY creations, framed upon the principle of +making the least possible permanent addition to our House, and to the +aristocracy, by calling up peers’ eldest sons—by choosing men without +families—by taking Scotch and Irish peers.” It is of no avail now to +revert to the past, or to enter into any discussion whether or not the +proposed measure was justifiable; more especially as Lord Brougham adds, +“But such was my deep sense of the dreadful consequences of the act, +that I much question whether I should not have preferred running the +risk of confusion that attended the loss of the bill as it then stood.” +Under the present hereditary system, there is little danger that the +House of Peers will lose its independent character; nor could it be so +affected, even for a short period, save by some such exorbitant exercise +of the power of the Crown, by creating simultaneously an undue and +unconstitutional number of peers. But the case would be widely different +if life-peerages were to be allowed, and recognised as conferring a +right to sit in the House of Lords. Peerages in the ordinary course of +succession become rapidly extinct. In 1707, when the Union Roll of +Scotland was made up, the number of the Peerage amounted to 154; and +since then six, having proved their claims, have been added, thus +swelling the number to 160. At present there are only 82 members of that +Peerage, showing a diminution of nearly _one-half_ in the course of 150 +years. If, then, the lapse of hereditary peerages is to be supplied—as +no doubt it will be supplied, should the claim of Lord Wensleydale to +take his seat in the House of Peers be allowed—by peers created for life +only, who can fail to see that, in the course of time, the independence +of the Upper House must be entirely extinguished? In the natural course +of events, that Chamber must become an appanage of the Crown, very much +indeed in the condition of the old English Chamber of Peers, when the +Crown exercised its discretion in issuing or withholding writs of +summons to Parliament. Therein, we conclude, lies the real danger. We +speak of “the constitution of the country,” and men regard the term as +vague because so much is implied. But it is different when we consider +separately the constitution of each branch of the Legislature. Then we +are dealing, not with generalities, but with facts; and we appeal, not +only to the antiquarian and the genealogist, but to the understanding of +all educated men, whether, until now, they ever conceived the +possibility of a non-hereditary House of Lords? Surely, in 1832, when a +design for swamping that House was seriously entertained, the legality +of creating peerages for life must have occurred to some of the men of +acute and daring intellect who were willing to peril so much for the +success of their favourite measure, and yet no proposal of the kind was +put forward. It is in the “ennoblement of the blood” which, once +bestowed, the sovereign cannot recall, that the essential privilege and +pre-eminence of the Peerage lies. Take that away, and the whole +character of the dignity is altered. + +Some kind of argument has been attempted to be drawn in favour of +life-peerages, from the patent fact that bishops have seats in the House +of Lords. To that we answer that the “Spiritual Lords,” as they are +termed, sit there partly by consuetude, and partly by statute; and +Blackstone thus explains the reason of their sitting: “These” (_i.e._ +the Spiritual Lords) “hold, or are supposed to hold, certain ancient +baronies under the Queen; for William the Conqueror thought proper to +change the spiritual tenure of frankalmoign, or free alms, under which +the bishops held their lands during the Saxon government, into the +feodal or Norman tenure by barony, which subjected their estates to all +civil charges and assessments, from which they were before exempt; and +in right of succession to those baronies which were unalienable from +their respective dignities, the bishops and abbots were allowed their +seats in the House of Lords.” And let it be specially remarked, that the +Crown has no power to call a newly-created bishop, in virtue of his +bishopric, to sit in the House of Lords. This is distinctly asserted by +the statute 10 and 11 Vict. cap. 108, which provides that the number of +English Lords Spiritual shall not be increased by the creation of any +new bishopric. So here is a precedent, if precedents are to be sought +for, limiting the power of the Crown as to new dignities, and debarring +it from interfering with the constituted rights of another estate of the +realm. + +In the course of this discussion upon a subject not only interesting, +but of the highest importance, we have studiously avoided mixing up the +question of the right of the Crown to confer titles of honour at +pleasure, with that of the exercise of the prerogative to create, +contrary to consuetude, a new kind of nobility to sit in the House of +Lords. They are indeed totally separate questions, and must so be +considered in order to arrive at a proper understanding of the point at +issue. We submit that this much is clear and evident—1st, That the right +of sitting in the House of Lords is not the necessary consequence of the +possession of a British peerage; 2d, That, with the exception of the +Bishops or Lords Spiritual, who sit in the character of holders of +ancient baronies under the Queen, all the members of the House of Lords +are hereditary peers; 3d, That since the union of England and Scotland, +which merged the two ancient kingdoms into one monarchy under the name +of Great Britain, and made all the existing peers, without any +exception, peers of Great Britain, there has been no instance of any +attempt on the part of the Crown to create peerages without remainder; +4th, That the same observation applies to the United Kingdom of Great +Britain and Ireland, which was established by the Act of Union with +Ireland, and which made all existing peers, peers of the United Kingdom. + +The present is the first instance in which a title of nobility, without +remainder, has been conferred by patent, and the mere title, as a +personal honour, may be unimpeachable. But it is a very different thing +when it is attempted to give the holder of that title a seat in the +House of Lords, which, we humbly venture to think, is beyond the power +of the Crown, because it is contrary to the acknowledged constitution +and hereditary character of the House of Lords. That there must be some +limit to the exercise of the prerogative is certain; and we shall put a +case for the solution of those who take the opposite view. It is this: +Would the Crown be entitled to issue a writ of summons to any peer of +the United Kingdom, who is such in virtue of his representing an old +Scottish or Irish peerage; and would such peer be entitled, in respect +of that writ, to take his seat in the House of Lords? We apprehend that +there can be but one answer to that. Such an attempt would be directly +contrary to and in violation of the terms of the Acts of Union. No man +surely will maintain that Queen Anne could have evaded the express +conditions of the Treaty of Union, by creating all the former peers of +Scotland who became peers of Great Britain (with the exception of the +sixteen representatives), peers for life, without remainder, and so have +effected an absolute revolution in the character of the then existing +House of Lords. It was not until the year 1782, seventy years after the +Union, that a writ of summons was allowed to be issued to Douglas Duke +of Hamilton, in the character of Duke of Brandon, a dignity which had +been given to his ancestor in 1711. Previous to that decision, it seems +to have been maintained that no subsequent patent to a peer, who +originally was a peer of Scotland, could entitle him to a writ of +summons to sit in the House of Lords; and the point was twice +adjudicated upon in the House of Lords: first in the case of the Duke of +Hamilton, already mentioned; and, secondly, in that of the Duke of +Queensberry, who, 1719, asserted his right to a writ of summons in his +character of Duke of Dover. In both instances the decision was hostile +to the claim; but the point was finally set at rest by the admission of +the Duke of Hamilton to sit as Duke of Brandon under that patent. + +If the Crown can now create a peer for life, so as to entitle him to a +seat in Parliament, it must necessarily have possessed that power 150 +years ago; and, if so, every one of the Scottish peers might have been +called to the Upper House by the simple expedient of giving them new +patents for life. Such an attempt would undoubtedly have been considered +illegal, unconstitutional, and utterly subversive of the Union; and yet +we cannot see wherein such an attempt would have differed in principle +from that which is now made to introduce Lord Wensleydale to the House +of Lords. It is only by the consent of Queen, Lords, and Commons, that +the fundamental character of any of the three great Estates of the realm +can be altered; and the attempt to destroy or impair the independence of +one of them is ominous for the stability of the others. + + + _Printed by William Blackwood and Sons, Edinburgh._ + +----- + +Footnote 1: + + _A History of Rome from the Earliest Times to the Establishment of the + Empire._ By HENRY G. LIDDELL, D.D., Dean of Christchurch, Oxford, late + Head Master of Westminster School. + +Footnote 2: + + This was a law, passed after the battle of Cannæ, at the instance of + the tribune Oppius, “by which it was forbidden that any woman should + wear a gay-coloured dress, or have more than half an ounce of gold to + ornament her person, and that none should approach within a mile of + any city or town in a car drawn by horses.”—Vol. i. p. 363. + +Footnote 3: + + He had caused a fugitive and suppliant Gaul to be assassinated in his + own tent, where he was feasting with a favourite youth, in order that + the dying agonies of the man might afford an amusement to his unworthy + minion.—Vol. ii. p. 61. + +Footnote 4: + + _Histoire des Français des Divers Etats._ Victor Lecou, Libraire. + Paris, 1853. + +Footnote 5: + + One curious example of this kind of thing we remember to have seen in + the preface to the new edition of a work of some reputation. The + devout author, alluding to the success of his performance, offers his + grateful thanks to Providence and the Periodical Press. + +Footnote 6: + + Like some people nearer home, each of them (and many another besides + them) avers that his paper has the largest circulation of any journal + not only in America, but _in the world_. Of all statistics, the least + credible are those of newspaper proprietors. + +Footnote 7: + + We are fully prepared to find Mr Bennett attributing our unfavourable + remarks to a great “conspiracy” among the “aristocratic cliques” of + England against American institutions in general, and the _New York + Herald_ in particular. This is an old trick, but the American public + is too sensible any longer to be taken in by such nonsense. Mr + Bennett’s pretensions to represent the general sentiments of the + United States, have nowhere been more indignantly repudiated than in + New York. If we imagined that any American whose opinion is worth + considering, would interpret our criticism as implying any unkindly + feeling to his country, these pages should never have seen the light. + The objects of our criticism are individual men. + +Footnote 8: + + The _North American Review_ thanks Mr Parton warmly for his brave—his + noble book. Was the orthodox Grannie dozing when she read it? + +Footnote 9: + + The meaning of the words “Whig,” “Democrat,” &c., and the combination + in the same individuals of Whig and Protectionist, Conservative and + Democrat, are somewhat puzzling to those who have not studied the + complicated subject of American politics. + +Footnote 10: + + Of the printing-office and editorial rooms Mr Parton gives a minute + account, not failing to give us the names and describe the personal + attractions of all the leading officials, including the distinguished + foreman, Mr T. Rooker, who warns “_gentlemen_ desiring to wash and + soak their distributing matter,” to use the “metal galleys” he has + cast for that purpose! “It took the world,” says Mr P., “an unknown + number of thousand years to arrive at that word GENTLEMEN.” What a + pity that some smart man does not write a little book on “The + Flunkeyism of Democracy.” + +Footnote 11: + + On this subject the biography maintains, with one or two exceptions, a + prudent reserve. One pathetic description is attempted of the old + sinner, “as he stood in his editorial rooms in Nassau Street, _while + from his head was washed the blood that incarnadined the snows of + fifty winters_.” After the washing of his headpiece, the invincible + editor coolly sat down to narrate the “assassination” in his own + choice style for the benefit of his readers. The following may pass as + a specimen of his manner. “James Watson Webb,” editor of the _Courier + and Enquirer_, was an old comrade of the writer’s. + + “As I was leisurely pursuing my business yesterday, in Wall Street, + collecting the information which is daily disseminated in the + _Herald_, James Watson Webb came up to me on the northern side of the + street—said something which I could not hear distinctly, then pushed + me down the stone steps leading to one of the broker’s offices, and + commenced fighting with a species of brutal and demoniac desperation + characteristic of a fury. + + “My damage is a scratch, about three-quarters of an inch in length, on + the third finger of the left hand, which I received from the iron + railing I was forced against, and three buttons torn from my vest, + which any tailor will reinstate for a sixpence. His loss is a rent + from top to bottom of a very beautiful black coat, which cost the + ruffian 40 dollars, and a blow in the face, which may have knocked + down his throat some of his infernal teeth for anything I know. + Balance in my favour, 39 dollars, 94 cents.” + +Footnote 12: + + Mr Bennett, it would appear, is not indeed utterly free from the human + feeling of “love of approbation”—the approbation, however, of + “peculiar” characters. Mr O’Connell insulted him at a great Repeal + gathering in Dublin, by saying, when his card was presented, “We don’t + want him here. He is one of the conductors of one of the vilest + Gazettes ever published by infamous publishers.” Poor Bennett was “ill + for some days in Scotland”—probably, thinks the tender biographer, in + consequence of this unexpected repulse from a brother demagogue. + +Footnote 13: + + Gibbon. + +Footnote 14: + + _Report by the Commissioners for the British Fisheries of their + Proceedings in the Year ended 31st December 1854; being Fishing 1854._ + Edinburgh, 1855. + + Article “FISHERIES” in the current edition of the _Encyclopædia + Britannica_, vol. ix. Edinburgh, 1855. + +Footnote 15: + + This fearful loss, it may be borne in mind, fell not upon fishermen + and merchants, but upon the poor fishermen alone—most of the survivors + being thereby rendered destitute. “Of those who perished at Wick, 17 + left widows and 60 children; at Helmsdale, the 13 drowned have left 9 + widows and 25 children; of the 26 men belonging to Port Gordon and + Buckie, who perished at Peterhead, 8 have left widows and 22 children; + and, including the 13 widows and 54 children of the 19 men lost + belonging to Stonehaven and Johnshaven, there will be left 47 widows + and 161 children totally unprovided for—a calamity without precedent + in the annals of the British fisheries.”—CAPTAIN WASHINGTON’S + _Report_, p. xvii. + +Footnote 16: + + _Report—Fishing Boats_ (Scotland). Ordered by the House of Commons to + be printed, 28th July 1849. + +Footnote 17: + + The year above referred to was that of 1848. Still larger captures and + comparative increase in the quantity cured have since occurred. Thus, + in 1849, there were cured at Wick 140,505 barrels. + +Footnote 18: + + _Essays on the Trade, Commerce, Manufactures, and Fisheries of + Scotland_, vol. iii. p. 197. Edinburgh, 1778. + +Footnote 19: + + _Eighth Annual Report of the Board of Supervision for the Relief of + the Poor in Scotland._ Edinburgh, 1853. + +Footnote 20: + + Value of boats employed in the fisheries, £225,830 + Do. of nets „ „ 303,666 + Do. of lines „ „ 57,924 + ———— + Total (for 1854), £587,420 + +Footnote 21: + + The above numbers are exclusive of between _four and five thousand + men_ engaged in the _export_ fishing trade. + +Footnote 22: + + The following is the present constitution of the Board: + _Commissioners_—Lord Murray; Earl of Caithness; George Traill, M.P.; + James Wilson; Rear-Admiral Henry Dundas; Andrew Coventry; James T. + Gibson-Craig; Professor Traill; William Mitchell Innes; Lord Elcho, + M.P.; Sir James Matheson, M.P.; John Thomson Gordon; George Loch; with + Lord Advocate Moncreiff, and Solicitor-General Maitland, _Ex + officiis_.—Secretary, Hon. B. F. Primrose. + +Footnote 23: + + _Twentieth Report from the Board of Public Works, Ireland_, p. 236. + London, 1852. + +Footnote 24: + + _Report of the Commissioners of Fisheries, Ireland, for 1853._ Dublin, + 1854. + +Footnote 25: + + Ibid. 1854. Dublin, 1855. + +Footnote 26: + + _Report of the Commissioners of Fisheries, Ireland, for 1854_, p. 12. + The above quotation refers to the herring fishery carried on at Howth. + We think it right to state that the schedules appended to the report + bear testimony “to the peaceable and orderly habits of the fishermen, + and to the total absence of any conflicts or disturbance of any kind.” + It is, unfortunately, added, that “it is much to be deplored that + nearly all agree in describing an unexampled state of depression as + extending to all parts of the coast.”—_Ibid._, p. 6. + +Footnote 27: + + _Ibid._, p. 6. As the law now stands, there is no regulation in + respect to the size of the mesh of nets used in Ireland for the + capture of fish other than of the salmon species. + +Footnote 28: + + Letter from Mr Methuen to the Lord Advocate; _Edinburgh Evening + Courant_, February 6, 1856. + +Footnote 29: + + We have recently received the _Commercial Circular_ of Messrs + Plüddeman and Kirstein of Stettin, of date the 20th January 1856. + Referring to the increased consumption of our herrings in the + Continental markets during the last season, they attributed it chiefly + to the high prices of all descriptions of _meat_, as a consequence of + the high value of rye, and all other grains, caused by the blockade of + the Russian ports, and the failure of the Continental crops. The + following is their summary of the importation of Scotch herrings, into + their own and neighbouring districts, during the last four years:— + + ┌──────────┬──────────┬──────────┬──────────┬──────────┬───────────┐ + │ Years. │ Stettin. │ Harburg. │ Hamburg. │ Dantzic. │Königsberg.│ + ├──────────┼──────────┼──────────┼──────────┼──────────┼───────────┤ + │ │ Barrels. │ Barrels. │ Barrels. │ Barrels. │ Barrels. │ + │ 1852│ 121,290│ 10,000│ 44,000│ 22,146│ about 4000│ + │ 1853│ 123,537│ 26,000│ 22,000│ 44,272│ about 5000│ + │ 1854│ 118,800│ 52,400│ 25,550│ 28,009│ 2758│ + │ 1855│ 154,961│ 59,769│ 26,500│ 66,122│ 15,070│ + └──────────┴──────────┴──────────┴──────────┴──────────┴───────────┘ + + The above transmissions for 1855 give a total of 322,422 barrels of + Scotch herrings, of which the price to our curers, for such as were + full crown branded, varied from L.1, 1s. to L.1, 4s. each, producing, + with such as were of a somewhat inferior quality and price, an + enormous aggregate of income from the Prussian ports alone. + + We may here add, that there is an immediate prospect of the duty on + our herrings being greatly reduced in Belgium. It is at present 13 + francs (or about 11s.) per barrel—a tax which quite prohibits + importation. When the great cities of Brussels, Ghent, Liège, Louvain, + Antwerp, Bruges, Mons, Namur, Malines, &c., are open to our produce, + what may we not hope for from the appetites of a Catholic and + therefore fish-eating population? + +Footnote 30: + + We have reason to believe that petitions to the Treasury for the + maintenance of the Board of Fisheries and its official brand, have + been presented or are in course of transmission from the following + twenty-one ports in this country, viz.:—Wick Town-Council, Wick + Chamber of Commerce, Helmsdale, Burghhead, Lossiemouth, Macduff, + Banff, Gardenstown, Whitehills, Portsoy, Fraserburgh, Peterhead, + Montrose, Anstruther, Leith Chamber of Commerce, Eyemouth, Burnmouth, + Coldingham, Berwick-upon-Tweed, &c., Glasgow, Greenock, Bute. The + following places on the Continent have sent in corresponding + petitions, viz.:—Stettin, Königsberg, Dantzic, Berlin, Breslau, + Dresden, Magdeburg, Harburg, Hamburg. + +Footnote 31: + + _Memoir of the Rev. Sydney Smith._ By his Daughter, LADY HOLLAND. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + 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 76980 *** |