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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/78168-0.txt b/78168-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..323fbc0 --- /dev/null +++ b/78168-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2423 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78168 *** + + + “_Familiar in their Mouths as HOUSEHOLD WORDS._”—SHAKESPEARE. + + + + + HOUSEHOLD WORDS. + A WEEKLY JOURNAL + + + CONDUCTED BY CHARLES DICKENS. + + + N^{o.} 5.] SATURDAY, APRIL 27, 1850. [PRICE 2_d._ + + + + + PET PRISONERS + + +The system of separate confinement first experimented on in England at +the model prison, Pentonville, London, and now spreading through the +country, appears to us to require a little calm consideration and +reflection on the part of the public. We purpose, in this paper, to +suggest what we consider some grave objections to this System. + +We shall do this temperately, and without considering it necessary to +regard every one from whom we differ, as a scoundrel, actuated by base +motives, to whom the most unprincipled conduct may be recklessly +attributed. Our faith in most questions where the good men are +represented to be all _pro_, and the bad men to be all _con_, is very +small. There is a hot class of riders of hobby-horses in the field, in +this century, who think they do nothing unless they make a steeple-chase +of their object; throw a vast quantity of mud about, and spurn every +sort of decent restraint and reasonable consideration under their +horses’ heels. This question has not escaped such championship. It has +its steeple-chase riders, who hold the dangerous principle that the end +justifies any means, and to whom no means, truth and fair-dealing +usually excepted, come amiss. + +Considering the separate system of imprisonment, here, solely in +reference to England, we discard, for the purpose of this discussion, +the objection founded on its extreme severity, which would immediately +arise if we were considering it with any reference to the State of +Pennsylvania in America. For whereas in that State it may be inflicted +for a dozen years, the idea is quite abandoned at home of extending it +usually, beyond a dozen months, or in any case beyond eighteen months. +Besides which, the school and the chapel afford periods of comparative +relief here, which are not afforded in America. + +Though it has been represented by the steeple-chase riders as a most +enormous heresy to contemplate the possibility of any prisoner going mad +or idiotic, under the prolonged effects of separate confinement; and +although any one who should have the temerity to maintain such a doubt +in Pennsylvania, would have a chance of becoming a profane St. Stephen; +Lord Grey, in his very last speech in the House of Lords on this +subject, made in the present session of Parliament, in praise of this +separate system, said of it: ‘Wherever it has been fairly tried, one of +its great defects has been discovered to be this,—that it cannot be +continued for a sufficient length of time without danger to the +individual, and that human nature cannot bear it beyond a limited +period. The evidence of medical authorities proves beyond dispute that, +if it is protracted beyond twelve months, the health of the convict, +mental and physical, would require the most close and vigilant +superintendence. Eighteen months is stated to be the _maximum_ time for +the continuance of its infliction, and, as a general rule, it is advised +that it never be continued for more than twelve months.’ This being +conceded, and it being clear that the prisoner’s mind, and all the +apprehensions weighing upon it, must be influenced from the first hour +of his imprisonment by the greater or less extent of its duration in +perspective before him, we are content to regard the system as +dissociated in England from the American objection of too great +severity. + +We shall consider it, first in the relation of the extraordinary +contrast it presents, in a country circumstanced as England is, between +the physical condition of the convict in prison, and that of the +hard-working man outside, or the pauper outside. We shall then enquire, +and endeavour to lay before our readers some means of judging, whether +its proved or probable efficiency in producing a real, trustworthy, +practically repentant state of mind, is such as to justify the +presentation of that extraordinary contrast. If, in the end, we indicate +the conclusion that the associated silent system is less objectionable, +it is not because we consider it in the abstract a good secondary +punishment, but because it is a severe one, capable of judicious +administration, much less expensive, not presenting the objectionable +contrast so strongly, and not calculated to pet and pamper the mind of +the prisoner and swell his sense of his own importance. We are not +acquainted with any system of secondary punishment that we think +reformatory, except the mark system of Captain Macconnochie, formerly +governor of Norfolk Island, which proceeds upon the principle of +obliging the convict to some exercise of self-denial and resolution in +every act of his prison life, and which would condemn him to a sentence +of so much labour and good conduct instead of so much time. There are +details in Captain Macconnochie’s scheme on which we have our doubts +(rigid silence we consider indispensable); but, in the main, we regard +it as embodying sound and wise principles. We infer from the writings of +Archbishop Whateley, that those principles have presented themselves to +his profound and acute mind in a similar light. + +We will first contrast the dietary of The Model Prison at Pentonville, +with the dietary of what we take to be the nearest workhouse, namely, +that of Saint Pancras. In the prison, every man receives twenty-eight +ounces of meat weekly. In the workhouse, every able-bodied adult +receives eighteen. In the prison, every man receives one hundred and +forty ounces of bread weekly. In the workhouse, every able-bodied adult +receives ninety-six. In the prison, every man receives one hundred and +twelve ounces of potatoes weekly. In the workhouse, every able-bodied +adult receives thirty-six. In the prison, every man receives five pints +and a quarter of liquid cocoa weekly, (made of flaked cocoa or +cocoa-nibs), with fourteen ounces of milk and forty-two drams of +molasses; also seven pints of gruel weekly, sweetened with forty-two +drams of molasses. In the workhouse, every able-bodied adult receives +fourteen pints and a half of milk-porridge weekly, and no cocoa, and no +gruel. In the prison, every man receives three pints and a half of soup +weekly. In the workhouse, every able-bodied adult male receives four +pints and a half, and a pint of Irish stew. This, with seven pints of +table-beer weekly, and six ounces of cheese, is all the man in the +workhouse has to set off against the immensely superior advantages of +the prisoner in all the other respects we have stated. His lodging is +very inferior to the prisoner’s, the costly nature of whose +accommodation we shall presently show. + +Let us reflect upon this contrast in another aspect. We beg the reader +to glance once more at The Model Prison dietary, and consider its +frightful disproportion to the dietary of the free labourer in any of +the rural parts of England. What shall we take his wages at? Will twelve +shillings a week do? It cannot be called a low average, at all events. +Twelve shillings a week make thirty-one pounds four a year. The cost, in +1848, for the victualling and management of every prisoner in the Model +Prison was within a little of thirty-six pounds. Consequently, that free +labourer, with young children to support, with cottage-rent to pay, and +clothes to buy, and no advantage of purchasing his food in large amounts +by contract, has, for the whole subsistence of himself and family, +between four and five pounds a year _less_ than the cost of feeding and +overlooking one man in the Model Prison. Surely to his enlightened mind, +and sometimes low morality, this must be an extraordinary good reason +for keeping out of it! + +But we will not confine ourselves to the contrast between the labourer’s +scanty fare and the prisoner’s ‘flaked cocoa or cocoa-nibs,’ and daily +dinner of soup, meat, and potatoes. We will rise a little higher in the +scale. Let us see what advertisers in the _Times_ newspaper can board +the middle classes at, and get a profit out of, too. + + +A LADY, residing in a cottage, with a large garden, in a pleasant and +healthful locality, would be happy to receive one or two LADIES to BOARD +with her. Two ladies occupying the same apartment may be accommodated +for 12s. a week each. The cottage is within a quarter of an hour’s walk +of a good market town, 10 minutes’ of a South-Western Railway Station, +and an hour’s distance from town. + + +These two ladies could not be so cheaply boarded in the Model Prison. + + +BOARD and RESIDENCE, at £70 per annum, for a married couple, or in +proportion for a single gentleman or lady, with a respectable family. +Rooms large and airy, in an eligible dwelling, at Islington, about 20 +minutes’ walk from the Bank. Dinner hour six o’clock. There are one or +two vacancies to complete a small, cheerful, and agreeable circle. + + +Still cheaper than the Model Prison! + + +BOARD and RESIDENCE.—A lady, keeping a select school, in a town, about +30 miles from London, would be happy to meet with a LADY to BOARD and +RESIDE with her. She would have her own bed-room and a sitting-room. Any +lady wishing for accomplishments would find this desirable. Terms £30 +per annum. References will be expected and given. + + +Again, some six pounds a year less than the Model Prison! And if we were +to pursue the contrast through the newspaper file for a month, or +through the advertising pages of two or three numbers of Bradshaw’s +Railway Guide, we might probably fill the present number of this +publication with similar examples, many of them including a decent +education into the bargain. + +This Model Prison had cost at the close of 1847, under the heads of +‘building’ and ‘repairs’ alone, the insignificant sum of ninety-three +thousand pounds—within seven thousand pounds of the amount of the last +Government grant for the Education of the whole people, and enough to +pay for the emigration to Australia of four thousand, six hundred and +fifty poor persons at twenty pounds per head. Upon the work done by five +hundred prisoners in the Model Prison, in the year 1848, (we collate +these figures from the Reports, and from Mr. Hepworth Dixon’s useful +work on the London Prisons,) there was no profit, but an actual loss of +upwards of eight hundred pounds. The cost of instruction, and the time +occupied in instruction, when the labour is necessarily unskilled and +unproductive, may be pleaded in explanation of this astonishing fact. We +are ready to allow all due weight to such considerations, but we put it +to our readers whether the whole system is right or wrong; whether the +money ought or ought not rather to be spent in instructing the unskilled +and neglected outside the prison walls. It will be urged that it is +expended in preparing the convict for the exile to which he is doomed. +We submit to our readers, who are the jury in this case, that all this +should be done outside the prison, first; that the first persons to be +prepared for emigration are the miserable children who are consigned to +the tender mercies of a DROUET, or who disgrace our streets; and that in +this beginning at the wrong end, a spectacle of monstrous inconsistency +is presented, shocking to the mind. Where is our Model House of Youthful +Industry, where is our Model Ragged School, costing for building and +repairs, from ninety to a hundred thousand pounds, and for its annual +maintenance upwards of twenty thousand pounds a year? Would it be a +Christian act to build that, first? To breed our skilful labour there? +To take the hewers of wood and drawers of water in a strange country +from the convict ranks, until those men by earnest working, zeal, and +perseverance, proved themselves, and raised themselves? Here are two +sets of people in a densely populated land, always in the balance before +the general eye. Is Crime for ever to carry it against Poverty, and to +have a manifest advantage? There are the scales before all men. +Whirlwinds of dust scattered in mens’ eyes—and there is plenty flying +about—cannot blind them to the real state of the balance. + +We now come to enquire into the condition of mind produced by the +seclusion (limited in duration as Lord Grey limits it) which is +purchased at this great cost in money, and this greater cost in +stupendous injustice. That it is a consummation much to be desired, that +a respectable man, lapsing into crime, should expiate his offence +without incurring the liability of being afterwards recognised by +hardened offenders who were his fellow-prisoners, we most readily admit. +But, that this object, howsoever desirable and benevolent, is in itself +sufficient to outweigh such objections as we have set forth, we cannot +for a moment concede. Nor have we any sufficient guarantee that even +this solitary point is gained. Under how many apparently inseparable +difficulties, men immured in solitary cells, will by some means obtain a +knowledge of other men immured in other solitary cells, most of us know +from all the accounts and anecdotes we have read of secret prisons and +secret prisoners from our school-time upwards. That there is a +fascination in the desire to know something of the hidden presence +beyond the blank wall of the cell; that the listening ear is often laid +against that wall; that there is an overpowering temptation to respond +to the muffled knock, or any other signal which sharpened ingenuity +pondering day after day on one idea can devise: is in that constitution +of human nature which impels mankind to communication with one another, +and makes solitude a false condition against which nature strives. That +such communication within the Model Prison, is not only probable, but +indisputably proved to be possible by its actual discovery, we have no +hesitation in stating as a fact. Some pains have been taken to hush the +matter, but the truth is, that when the Prisoners at Pentonville ceased +to be selected Prisoners, especially picked out and chosen for the +purposes of that experiment, an extensive conspiracy was found out among +them, involving, it is needless to say, extensive communication. Small +pieces of paper with writing upon them, had been crushed into balls, and +shot into the apertures of cell doors, by prisoners passing along the +passages; false responses had been made during Divine Service in the +chapel, in which responses they addressed one another; and armed men +were secretly dispersed by the Governor in various parts of the +building, to prevent the general rising, which was anticipated as the +consequence of this plot. Undiscovered communication, under this system, +we assume to be frequent. + +The state of mind into which a man is brought who is the lonely +inhabitant of his own small world, and who is only visited by certain +regular visitors, all addressing themselves to him individually and +personally, as the object of their particular solicitude—we believe in +most cases to have very little promise in it, and very little of solid +foundation. A strange absorbing selfishness—a spiritual egotism and +vanity, real or assumed—is the first result. It is most remarkable to +observe, in the cases of murderers who become this kind of object of +interest, when they are at last consigned to the condemned cell, how the +rule is (of course there are exceptions,) that the murdered person +disappears from the stage of their thoughts, except as a part of their +own important story; and how they occupy the whole scene. _I_ did this, +_I_ feel that, _I_ confide in the mercy of Heaven being extended to +_me_; this is the autograph of _me_, the unfortunate and unhappy; in my +childhood I was so and so; in my youth I did such a thing, to which I +attribute my downfall—not this thing of basely and barbarously defacing +the image of my Creator, and sending an immortal soul into eternity +without a moment’s warning, but something else of a venial kind that +many unpunished people do. I don’t want the forgiveness of this foully +murdered person’s bereaved wife, husband, brother, sister, child, +friend; I don’t ask for it, I don’t care for it. I make no enquiry of +the clergyman concerning the salvation of that murdered person’s soul; +_mine_ is the matter; and I am almost happy that I came here, as to the +gate of Paradise. ‘I never liked him,’ said the repentant Mr. Manning, +false of heart to the last, calling a crowbar by a milder name, to +lessen the cowardly horror of it, ‘and I beat in his skull with the +ripping chisel.’ I am going to bliss, exclaims the same authority, in +effect. Where my victim went to, is not my business at all. Now, GOD +forbid that we, unworthily believing in the Redeemer, should shut out +hope, or even humble trustfulness, from any criminal at that dread pass; +but, it is not in us to call this state of mind repentance. + +The present question is with a state of mind analogous to this (as we +conceive) but with a far stronger tendency to hypocrisy; the dread of +death not being present, and there being every possible inducement, +either to feign contrition, or to set up an unreliable semblance of it. +If I, John Styles, the prisoner, don’t do my work, and outwardly conform +to the rules of the prison, I am a mere fool. There is nothing here to +tempt me to do anything else, and everything to tempt me to do that. The +capital dietary (and every meal is a great event in this lonely life) +depends upon it; the alternative is a pound of bread a day. I should be +weary of myself without occupation. I should be much more dull if I +didn’t hold these dialogues with the gentlemen who are so anxious about +me. I shouldn’t be half the object of interest I am, if I didn’t make +the professions I do. Therefore, I John Styles go in for what is popular +here, and I may mean it, or I may not. + +There will always, under any decent system, be certain prisoners, +betrayed into crime by a variety of circumstances, who will do well in +exile, and offend against the laws no more. Upon this class, we think +the Associated Silent System would have quite as good an influence as +this expensive and anomalous one; and we cannot accept them as evidence +of the efficiency of separate confinement. Assuming John Styles to mean +what he professes, for the time being, we desire to track the workings +of his mind, and to try to test the value of his professions. Where +shall we find an account of John Styles, proceeding from no objector to +this system, but from a staunch supporter of it? We will take it from a +work called ‘Prison Discipline, and the advantages of the separate +system of imprisonment,’ written by the Reverend Mr. Field, chaplain of +the new County Gaol at Reading; pointing out to Mr. Field, in passing, +that the question is not justly, as he would sometimes make it, a +question between this system and the profligate abuses and customs of +the old unreformed gaols, but between it and the improved gaols of this +time, which are not constructed on his favourite principles.[1] + +Footnote 1: + + As Mr. Field condescends to quote some vapouring about the account + given by Mr. Charles Dickens in his ‘American Notes,’ of the Solitary + Prison at Philadelphia, he may perhaps really wish for some few words + of information on the subject. For this purpose, Mr. Charles Dickens + has referred to the entry in his Diary, made at the close of that day. + + He left his hotel for the Prison at twelve o’clock, being waited on, + by appointment, by the gentleman who showed it to him; and he returned + between seven and eight at night; dining in the prison in the course + of that time; which, according to his calculation, in despite of the + Philadelphia Newspaper, rather exceeds two hours. He found the Prison + admirably conducted, extremely clean, and the system administered in a + most intelligent, kind, orderly, tender, and careful manner. He did + not consider (nor should he, if he were to visit Pentonville + to-morrow) that the book in which visitors were expected to record + their observation of the place, was intended for the insertion of + criticisms on the system, but for honest testimony to the manner of + its administration; and to that, he bore, as an impartial visitor, the + highest testimony in his power. In returning thanks for his health + being drunk, at the dinner within the walls, he said that what he had + seen that day was running in his mind; that he could not help + reflecting on it; and that it was an awful punishment. If the American + officer who rode back with him afterwards should ever see these words, + he will perhaps recall his conversation with Mr. Dickens on the road, + as to Mr. Dickens having said so, very plainly and strongly. In + reference to the ridiculous assertion that Mr. Dickens in his book + termed a woman ‘quite beautiful’ who was a Negress, he positively + believes that he was shown no Negress in the Prison, but one who was + nursing a woman much diseased, and to whom no reference whatever is + made in his published account. In describing three young women, ‘all + convicted at the same time of a conspiracy,’ he may, _possibly_, among + many cases, have substituted in his memory for one of them whom he did + not see, some other prisoner, confined for some other crime, whom he + did see; but he has not the least doubt of having been guilty of the + (American) enormity of detecting beauty in a pensive quadroon or + mulatto girl, or of having seen exactly what he describes; and he + remembers the girl more particularly described in this connexion, + perfectly. Can Mr. Field really suppose that Mr. Dickens had any + interest or purpose in misrepresenting the system, or that if he could + be guilty of such unworthy conduct, or desire to do it anything but + justice, he would have volunteered the narrative of a man’s having, of + his own choice, undergone it for two years? + + We will not notice the objection of Mr. Field (who strengthens the + truth of Burns to nature, by the testimony of Mr. Pitt!) to the + discussion of such a topic as the present in a work of ‘mere + amusement;’ though, we had thought we remembered in that book a word + or two about slavery, which, although a very amusing, can scarcely be + considered an unmitigatedly comic theme. We are quite content to + believe, without seeking to make a convert of the Reverend Mr. Field, + that no work need be one of ‘mere amusement;’ and that some works to + which he would apply that designation have done a little good in + advancing principles to which, we hope, and will believe, for the + credit of his Christian office, he is not indifferent. + +Now, here is John Styles, twenty years of age, in prison for a felony. +He has been there five months, and he writes to his sister, ‘Don’t fret +my dear sister, about my being here. I cannot help fretting when I think +about my usage to my father and mother: when I think about it, it makes +me quite ill. I hope God will forgive me; I pray for it night and day +from my heart. Instead of fretting about imprisonment, I ought to thank +God for it, for before I came here, I was living quite a careless life; +neither was God in all my thoughts; all I thought about was ways that +led me towards destruction. Give my respects to my wretched companions, +and I hope they will alter their wicked course, for they don’t know for +a day nor an hour but what they may be cut off. I have seen my folly, +and I hope they may see their folly; but I shouldn’t if I had not been +in trouble. It is good for me that I have been in trouble. Go to church, +my sister, every Sunday, and don’t give your mind to going to playhouses +and theatres, for that is no good to you. There are a great many +temptations.’ + +Observe! John Styles, who has committed the felony has been ‘living +quite a careless life.’ That is his worst opinion of it, whereas his +companions who did not commit the felony are ‘wretched companions.’ John +saw _his_ ‘folly,’ and sees _their_ ‘wicked course.’ It is playhouses +and theatres which many unfelonious people go to, that prey upon John’s +mind—not felony. John is shut up in that pulpit to lecture his +companions and his sister, about the wickedness of the unfelonious +world. Always supposing him to be sincere, is there no exaggeration of +himself in this? Go to church where I can go, and don’t go to theatres +where I can’t! Is there any tinge of the fox and the grapes in it? Is +this the kind of penitence that will wear outside! Put the case that he +had written, of his own mind, ‘My dear sister, I feel that I have +disgraced you and all who should be dear to me, and if it please God +that I live to be free, I will try hard to repair that, and to be a +credit to you. My dear sister, when I committed this felony, I stole +something—and these pining five months have not put it back—and I will +work my fingers to the bone to make restitution, and oh! my dear sister, +seek out my late companions, and tell Tom Jones, that poor boy, who was +younger and littler than me, that I am grieved I ever led him so wrong, +and I am suffering for it now!’ Would that be better? Would it be more +like solid truth? + +But no. This is not the pattern penitence. There would seem to be a +pattern penitence, of a particular form, shape, limits, and dimensions, +like the cells. While Mr. Field is correcting his proof-sheets for the +press, another letter is brought to him, and in that letter too, that +man, also a felon, speaks of his ‘past folly,’ and lectures his mother +about labouring under ‘strong delusions of the devil.’ Does this +overweening readiness to lecture other people, suggest the suspicion of +any parrot-like imitation of Mr. Field, who lectures him, and any +presumptuous confounding of their relative positions? + +We venture altogether to protest against the citation, in support of +this system, of assumed repentance which has stood no test or trial in +the working world. We consider that it proves nothing, and is worth +nothing, except as a discouraging sign of that spiritual egotism and +presumption of which we have already spoken. It is not peculiar to the +separate system at Reading; Miss Martineau, who was on the whole +decidedly favourable to the separate prison at Philadelphia, observed it +there. ‘The cases I became acquainted with,’ says she, ‘were not all +hopeful. Some of the convicts were so stupid as not to be relied upon, +more or less. Others canted so detestably, and were (always in connexion +with their cant) so certain that they should never sin more, that I have +every expectation that they will find themselves in prison again some +day. One fellow, a sailor, notorious for having taken more lives than +probably any man in the United States, was quite confident that he +should be perfectly virtuous henceforth. He should never touch anything +stronger than tea, or lift his hand against money or life. I told him I +thought he could not be sure of all this till he was within sight of +money and the smell of strong liquors; and that he was more confident +than I should like to be. He shook his shock of red hair at me, and +glared with his one ferocious eye, as he said he knew all about it. He +had been the worst of men, and Christ had had mercy on his poor soul.’ +(Observe again, as in the general case we have put, that he is not at +all troubled about the souls of the people whom he had killed.) + +Let us submit to our readers another instance from Mr. Field, of the +wholesome state of mind produced by the separate system. ‘The 25th of +March, in the last year, was the day appointed for a general fast, on +account of the threatened famine. The following note is in my journal of +that day. “During the evening I visited many prisoners, and found with +much satisfaction that a large proportion of them had observed the day +in a manner becoming their own situation, and the purpose for which it +had been set apart. I think it right to record the following remarkable +proof of the effect of discipline. * * * * * They were all supplied with +their usual rations. I went first this evening to the cells of the +prisoners recently committed for trial (Ward A. 1.), and amongst these +(upwards of twenty) I found that but three had abstained from any +portion of their food. I then visited twenty-one convicted prisoners who +had spent some considerable time in the gaol (Ward C. 1.), and amongst +them I found that some had altogether abstained from food, and of the +whole number two-thirds had partially abstained.”’ We will take it for +granted that this was not because they had more than they could eat, +though we know that with such a dietary even that sometimes happens, +especially in the case of persons long confined. ‘The remark of one +prisoner whom I questioned concerning his abstinence was, I believe, +sincere, and was very pleasing. “Sir, I have not felt able to eat +to-day, whilst I have thought of those poor starving people; but I hope +that I have prayed a good deal that God will give _them_ something to +eat.”’ + +If this were not pattern penitence, and the thought of those poor +starving people had honestly originated with that man, and were really +on his mind, we want to know why he was not uneasy, every day, in the +contemplation of his soup, meat, bread, potatoes, cocoa-nibs, milk, +molasses, and gruel, and its contrast to the fare of ‘those poor +starving people’ who, in some form or other, were taxed to pay for it? + +We do not deem it necessary to comment on the authorities quoted by Mr. +Field to show what a fine thing the separate system is, for the health +of the body; how it never affects the mind except for good; how it is +the true preventive of pulmonary disease; and so on. The deduction we +must draw from such things is, that Providence was quite mistaken in +making us gregarious, and that we had better all shut ourselves up +directly. Neither will we refer to that ‘talented criminal,’ Dr. Dodd, +whose exceedingly indifferent verses applied to a system now extinct, in +reference to our penitentiaries for convicted prisoners. Neither, after +what we have quoted from Lord Grey, need we refer to the likewise quoted +report of the American authorities, who are perfectly sure that no +extent of confinement in the Philadelphia prison has ever affected the +intellectual powers of any prisoner. Mr. Croker cogently observes, in +the Good-Natured Man, that either his hat must be on his head, or it +must be off. By a parity of reasoning, we conclude that both Lord Grey +and the American authorities cannot possibly be right—unless indeed the +notoriously settled habits of the American people, and the absence of +any approach to restlessness in the national character, render them +unusually good subjects for protracted seclusion, and an exception from +the rest of mankind. + +In using the term ‘pattern penitence’ we beg it to be understood that we +do not apply it to Mr. Field, or to any other chaplain, but to the +system; which appears to us to make these doubtful converts all alike. +Although Mr. Field has not shown any remarkable courtesy in the instance +we have set forth in a note, it is our wish to show all courtesy to him, +and to his office, and to his sincerity in the discharge of its duties. +In our desire to represent him with fairness and impartiality, we will +not take leave of him without the following quotation from his book: + +‘Scarcely sufficient time has yet expired since the present system was +introduced, for me to report much concerning discharged criminals. Out +of a class so degraded—the very dregs of the community—it can be no +wonder that some, of whose improvement I cherished the hope, should have +relapsed. Disappointed in a few cases I have been, yet by no means +discouraged, since I can with pleasure refer to many whose conduct is +affording proof of reformation. Gratifying indeed have been some +accounts received from liberated offenders themselves, as well as from +clergymen of parishes to which they have returned. I have also myself +visited the homes of some of our former prisoners, and have been cheered +by the testimony given, and the evident signs of improved character +which I have there observed. Although I do not venture at present to +describe the particular cases of prisoners, concerning whose reformation +I feel much confidence, because, as I have stated, the time of trial has +hitherto been short; yet I can with pleasure refer to some public +documents which prove the happy effects of similar discipline in other +establishments.’ + +It should also be stated that the Reverend Mr. Kingsmill, the chaplain +of the Model Prison at Pentonville, in his calm and intelligent report +made to the Commissioners on the first of February, 1849, expresses his +belief ‘that the effects produced here upon the character of prisoners, +have been encouraging in a high degree.’ + +But, we entreat our readers once again to look at that Model Prison +dietary (which is essential to the system, though the system is so very +healthy of itself); to remember the other enormous expenses of the +establishment; to consider the circumstances of this old country, with +the inevitable anomalies and contrasts it must present; and to decide, +on temperate reflection, whether there are any sufficient reasons for +adding this monstrous contrast to the rest. Let us impress upon our +readers that the existing question is, not between this system and the +old abuses of the old profligate Gaols (with which, thank Heaven, we +have nothing to do), but between this system and the associated silent +system, where the dietary is much lower, where the annual cost of +provision, management, repairs, clothing, &c., does not exceed, on a +liberal average, £25 for each prisoner; where many prisoners are, and +every prisoner would be (if due accommodation were provided in some +over-crowded prisons), locked up alone, for twelve hours out of every +twenty-four, and where, while preserved from contamination, he is still +one of a society of men, and not an isolated being, filling his whole +sphere of view with a diseased dilation of himself. We hear that the +associated silent system is objectionable, because of the number of +punishments it involves for breaches of the prison discipline; but how +can we, in the same breath, be told that the resolutions of prisoners +for the misty future are to be trusted, and that, on the least +temptation, they are so little to be relied on, as to the solid present? +How can I set the pattern penitence against the career that preceded it, +when I am told that if I put that man with other men, and lay a solemn +charge upon him not to address them by word or sign, there are such and +such great chances that he will want the resolution to obey? + +Remember that this separate system, though commended in the English +Parliament and spreading in England, has not spread in America, despite +of all the steeple-chase riders in the United States. Remember that it +has never reached the State most distinguished for its learning, for its +moderation, for its remarkable men of European reputation, for the +excellence of its public Institutions. Let it be tried here, on a +limited scale, if you will, with fair representatives of all classes of +prisoners: let Captain Macconnochie’s system be tried: let anything with +a ray of hope in it be tried: but, only as a part of some general system +for raising up the prostrate portion of the people of this country, and +not as an exhibition of such astonishing consideration for crime, in +comparison with want and work. Any prison built, at a great expenditure, +for this system, is comparatively useless for any other; and the +ratepayers will do well to think of this, before they take it for +granted that it is a proved boon to the country which will be enduring. + +Under the separate system, the prisoners work at trades. Under the +associated silent system, the Magistrates of Middlesex have almost +abolished the treadmill. Is it no part of the legitimate consideration +of this important point of work, to discover what kind of work the +people always filtering through the gaols of large towns—the pickpocket, +the sturdy vagrant, the habitual drunkard, and the begging-letter +impostor—like least, and to give them that work to do in preference to +any other? It is out of fashion with the steeple-chase riders we know; +but we would have, for all such characters, a kind of work in gaols, +badged and degraded as belonging to gaols only, and never done +elsewhere. And we must avow that, in a country circumstanced as England +is, with respect to labour and labourers, we have strong doubts of the +propriety of bringing the results of prison labour into the over-stocked +market. On this subject some public remonstrances have recently been +made by tradesmen; and we cannot shut our eyes to the fact that they are +well-founded. + + + + + A TALE OF THE GOOD OLD TIMES. + + +An alderman of the ancient borough of Beetlebury, and churchwarden of +the parish of St. Wulfstan’s in the said borough, Mr. Blenkinsop might +have been called, in the language of the sixteenth century, a man of +worship. This title would probably have pleased him very much, it being +an obsolete one, and he entertaining an extraordinary regard for all +things obsolete, or thoroughly deserving to be so. He looked up with +profound veneration to the griffins which formed the water-spouts of St. +Wulfstan’s Church, and he almost worshipped an old boot under the name +of a black jack, which on the affidavit of a forsworn broker, he had +bought for a drinking vessel of the sixteenth century. Mr. Blenkinsop +even more admired the wisdom of our ancestors than he did their +furniture and fashions. He believed that none of their statutes and +ordinances could possibly be improved on, and in this persuasion had +petitioned Parliament against every just or merciful change, which, +since he had arrived at man’s estate, had been made in the laws. He had +successively opposed all the Beetlebury improvements, gas, waterworks, +infant schools, mechanics’ institute, and library. He had been active in +an agitation against any measure for the improvement of the public +health, and, being a strong advocate of intramural interment, was +instrumental in defeating an attempt to establish a pretty cemetery +outside Beetlebury. He had successfully resisted a project for removing +the pig-market from the middle of the High Street. Through his influence +the shambles, which were corporation property, had been allowed to +remain where they were; namely, close to the Town Hall, and immediately +under his own and his brethren’s noses. In short, he had regularly, +consistently, and nobly done his best to frustrate every scheme that was +proposed for the comfort and advantage of his fellow creatures. For this +conduct, he was highly esteemed and respected, and, indeed, his +hostility to any interference with disease, had procured him the honour +of a public testimonial;—shortly after the presentation of which, with +several neat speeches, the cholera broke out in Beetlebury. + +The truth is, that Mr. Blenkinsop’s views on the subject of public +health and popular institutions were supposed to be economical (though +they were, in truth, desperately costly), and so pleased some of the +ratepayers. Besides, he withstood ameliorations, and defended nuisances +and abuses with all the heartiness of an actual philanthropist. +Moreover, he was a jovial fellow,—a boon companion; and his love of +antiquity leant particularly towards old ale and old port wine. Of both +of these beverages he had been partaking rather largely at a +visitation-dinner, where, after the retirement of the bishop and his +clergy, festivities were kept up till late, under the presidency of the +deputy-registrar. One of the last to quit the Crown and Mitre was Mr. +Blenkinsop. + +He lived in a remote part of the town, whither, as he did not walk +exactly in a right line, it may be allowable, perhaps, to say that he +bent his course. Many of the dwellers in Beetlebury High Street, +awakened at half-past twelve on that night, by somebody passing below, +singing, not very distinctly, + + ‘With a jolly full bottle let each man be armed,’ + +were indebted, little as they may have suspected it, to Alderman +Blenkinsop, for their serenade. + +In his homeward way stood the Market Cross; a fine mediæval structure, +supported on a series of circular steps by a groined arch, which served +as a canopy to the stone figure of an ancient burgess. This was the +effigies of Wynkyn de Vokes, once Mayor of Beetlebury, and a great +benefactor to the town; in which he had founded almshouses and a grammar +school, A.D. 1440. The post was formerly occupied by St. Wulfstan; but +De Vokes had been removed from the Town Hall in Cromwell’s time, and +promoted to the vacant pedestal, _vice_ Wulfstan, demolished. Mr. +Blenkinsop highly revered this work of art, and he now stopped to take a +view of it by moonlight. In that doubtful glimmer, it seemed almost +life-like. Mr. Blenkinsop had not much imagination, yet he could well +nigh fancy he was looking upon the veritable Wynkyn, with his bonnet, +beard, furred gown, and staff, and his great book under his arm. So +vivid was this impression, that it impelled him to apostrophise the +statue. + +‘Fine old fellow!’ said Mr. Blenkinsop. ‘Rare old buck! We shall never +look upon your like, again. Ah! the good old times—the jolly good old +times! No times like the good old times—my ancient worthy. No such times +as the good old times!’ + +‘And pray, Sir, what times do you call the good old times?’ in distinct +and deliberate accents, answered—according to the positive affirmation +of Mr. Blenkinsop, subsequently made before divers witnesses—the Statue. + +Mr. Blenkinsop is sure that he was in the perfect possession of his +senses. He is certain that he was not the dupe of ventriloquism, or any +other illusion. The value of these convictions must be a question +between him and the world, to whose perusal the facts of his tale, +simply as stated by himself, are here submitted. + +When first he heard the Statue speak, Mr. Blenkinsop says, he certainly +experienced a kind of sudden shock, a momentary feeling of +consternation. But this soon abated in a wonderful manner. The Statue’s +voice was quite mild and gentle—not in the least grim—had no funereal +twang in it, and was quite different from the tone a statue might be +expected to take by anybody who had derived his notions on that subject +from having heard the representative of the class in ‘Don Giovanni.’ + +‘Well; what times do you mean by the good old times?’ repeated the +Statue, quite familiarly. The churchwarden was able to reply with some +composure, that such a question coming from such a quarter had taken him +a little by surprise. + +‘Come, come, Mr. Blenkinsop,’ said the Statue, ‘don’t be astonished. +’Tis half-past twelve, and a moonlight night, as your favourite police, +the sleepy and infirm old watchman, says. Don’t you know that we statues +are apt to speak when spoken to, at these hours? Collect yourself. I +will help you to answer my own question. Let us go back step by step; +and allow me to lead you. To begin. By the good old times, do you mean +the reign of George the Third?’ + +‘The last of them, Sir,’ replied Mr. Blenkinsop, very respectfully, ‘I +am inclined to think, were seen by the people who lived in those days.’ + +‘I should hope so,’ the Statue replied. ‘Those the good old times? What! +Mr. Blenkinsop, when men were hanged by dozens, almost weekly, for +paltry thefts. When a nursing woman was dragged to the gallows with her +child at her breast, for shop-lifting, to the value of a shilling. When +you lost your American colonies, and plunged into war with France, +which, to say nothing of the useless bloodshed it cost, has left you +saddled with the national debt. Surely you will not call these the good +old times, will you, Mr. Blenkinsop?’ + +‘Not exactly, Sir; no: on reflection I don’t know that I can,’ answered +Mr. Blenkinsop. He had now—it was such a civil, well-spoken statue—lost +all sense of the preternatural horror of his situation, and scratched +his head just as if he had been posed in argument by an ordinary mortal. + +‘Well then,’ resumed the Statue, ‘my dear Sir, shall we take the two or +three reigns preceding. What think you of the then existing state of +prisons and prison discipline? Unfortunate debtors confined +indiscriminately with felons, in the midst of filth, vice, and misery +unspeakable. Criminals under sentence of death tippling in the condemned +cell with the Ordinary for their pot companion. Flogging, a common +punishment of women convicted of larceny. What say you of the times when +London streets were absolutely dangerous, and the passenger ran the risk +of being hustled and robbed even in the day-time? When not only Hounslow +and Bagshot Heath, but the public roads swarmed with robbers, and a +stage-coach was as frequently plundered as a hen-roost. When, indeed, +“the road” was esteemed the legitimate resource of a gentleman in +difficulties, and a highwayman was commonly called “Captain”—if not +respected accordingly. When cock-fighting, bear-baiting, and +bull-baiting were popular, nay, fashionable amusements. When the bulk of +the landed gentry could barely read and write, and divided their time +between fox-hunting and guzzling. When a duellist was a hero, and it was +an honour to have “killed your man.” When a gentleman could hardly open +his mouth without uttering a profane or filthy oath. When the country +was continually in peril of civil war through a disputed succession; and +two murderous insurrections, followed by more murderous executions, +actually took place. This era of inhumanity, shamelessness, brigandage, +brutality, and personal and political insecurity, what say you of it, +Mr. Blenkinsop? Do you regard this wig and pigtail period as +constituting the good old times, respected friend?’ + +‘There was Queen Anne’s golden reign, Sir,’ deferentially suggested Mr. +Blenkinsop. + +‘A golden reign!’ exclaimed the Statue. ‘A reign of favouritism and +court trickery at home, and profitless war abroad. The time of +Bolingbroke’s, and Harley’s, and Churchill’s intrigues. The reign of +Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough and of Mrs. Masham. A golden fiddlestick! +I imagine you must go farther back yet for your good old times, Mr. +Blenkinsop.’ + +‘Well,’ answered the churchwarden, ‘I suppose I must, Sir, after what +you say.’ + +‘Take William the Third’s rule,’ pursued the Statue. ‘War, war again; +nothing but war. I don’t think you’ll particularly call these the good +old times. Then what will you say to those of James the Second? Were +they the good old times when Judge Jefferies sat on the bench? When +Monmouth’s rebellion was followed by the Bloody Assize—When the King +tried to set himself above the law, and lost his crown in +consequence—Does your worship fancy that these were the good old times?’ + +Mr. Blenkinsop admitted that he could not very well imagine that they +were. + +‘Were Charles the Second’s the good old times?’ demanded the Statue. +‘With a court full of riot and debauchery—a palace much less decent than +any modern casino—whilst Scotch Covenanters were having their legs +crushed in the “Boots,” under the auspices and personal superintendence +of His Royal Highness the Duke of York. The time of Titus Oates, Bedloe, +and Dangerfield, and their sham-plots, with the hangings, drawings, and +quarterings, on perjured evidence, that followed them. When Russell and +Sidney were judicially murdered. The time of the Great Plague and Fire +of London. The public money wasted by roguery and embezzlement, while +sailors lay starving in the streets for want of their just pay; the +Dutch about the same time burning our ships in the Medway. My friend, I +think you will hardly call the scandalous monarchy of the “Merry +Monarch” the good old times.’ + +‘I feel the difficulty which you suggest, Sir,’ owned Mr. Blenkinsop. + +‘Now, that a man of your loyalty,’ pursued the Statue, ‘should identify +the good old times with Cromwell’s Protectorate, is of course out of the +question.’ + +‘Decidedly, Sir!’ exclaimed Mr. Blenkinsop. ‘_He_ shall not have a +statue, though you enjoy that honour,’ bowing. + +‘And yet,’ said the Statue, ‘with all its faults, this era was perhaps +no worse than any we have discussed yet. Never mind! It was a dreary, +cant-ridden one, and if you don’t think those England’s palmy days, +neither do I. There’s the previous reign then. During the first part of +it, there was the king endeavouring to assert arbitrary power. During +the latter, the Parliament were fighting against him in the open field. +What ultimately became of him I need not say. At what stage of King +Charles the First’s career did the good old times exist, Mr. Alderman? I +need barely mention the Star Chamber and poor Prynne; and I merely +allude to the fate of Strafford and of Laud. On consideration, should +you fix the good old times anywhere thereabouts?’ + +‘I am afraid not, indeed, Sir,’ Mr. Blenkinsop responded, tapping his +forehead. + +‘What is your opinion of James the First’s reign? Are you enamoured of +the good old times of the Gunpowder Plot? or when Sir Walter Raleigh was +beheaded? or when hundreds of poor miserable old women were burnt alive +for witchcraft, and the royal wiseacre on the throne wrote as wise a +book, in defence of the execrable superstition through which they +suffered?’ + +Mr. Blenkinsop confessed himself obliged to give up the times of James +the First. + +‘Now, then,’ continued the Statue, ‘we come to Elizabeth.’ + +‘There I’ve got you!’ interrupted Mr. Blenkinsop, exultingly. ‘I beg +your pardon, Sir,’ he added, with a sense of the freedom he had taken; +‘but everybody talks of the times of Good Queen Bess, you know!’ + +‘Ha, ha!’ laughed the Statue, not at all like Zamiel, or Don Guzman, or +a paviour’s rammer, but really with unaffected gaiety. ‘Everybody +sometimes says very foolish things. Suppose Everybody’s lot had been +cast under Elizabeth! How would Everybody have relished being subject to +the jurisdiction of the Ecclesiastical Commission, with its power of +imprisonment, rack, and torture? How would Everybody have liked to see +his Roman Catholic and Dissenting fellow-subjects, butchered, fined, and +imprisoned for their opinions; and charitable ladies butchered, too, for +giving them shelter in the sweet compassion of their hearts? What would +Everybody have thought of the murder of Mary Queen of Scots? Would +Everybody, would Anybody, would _you_, wish to have lived in these days, +whose emblems are cropped ears, pillory, stocks, thumb-screws, gibbet, +axe, chopping-block, and Scavenger’s daughter? Will you take your stand +upon this stage of History for the good old times, Mr. Blenkinsop?’ + +‘I should rather prefer firmer and safer ground, to be sure, upon the +whole,’ answered the worshipper of antiquity, dubiously. + +‘Well, now,’ said the Statue, ‘’tis getting late, and, unaccustomed as I +am to conversational speaking, I must be brief. Were those the good old +times when Sanguinary Mary roasted bishops, and lighted the fires of +Smithfield? When Henry the Eighth, the British Bluebeard, cut his wives’ +heads off, and burnt Catholic and Protestant at the same stake? When +Richard the Third smothered his nephews in the Tower? When the Wars of +the Roses deluged the land with blood? When Jack Cade marched upon +London? When we were disgracefully driven out of France under Henry the +Sixth, or, as disgracefully, went marauding there, under Henry the +Fifth? Were the good old times those of Northumberland’s rebellion? Of +Richard the Second’s assassination? Of the battles, burnings, massacres, +cruel tormentings, and atrocities, which form the sum of the Plantagenet +reigns? Of John’s declaring himself the Pope’s vassal, and performing +dental operations on the Jews? Of the Forest Laws and Curfew under the +Norman kings? At what point of this series of bloody and cruel annals +will you place the times which you praise? Or do your good old times +extend over all that period when somebody or other was constantly +committing high treason, and there was a perpetual exhibition of heads +on London Bridge and Temple Bar?’ + +It was allowed by Mr. Blenkinsop that either alternative presented +considerable difficulty. + +‘Was it in the good old times that Harold fell at Hastings, and William +the Conqueror enslaved England? Were those blissful years the ages of +monkery; of Odo and Dunstan, bearding monarchs and branding queens? Of +Danish ravage and slaughter? Or were they those of the Saxon Heptarchy, +and the worship of Thor and Odin? Of the advent of Hengist and Horsa? Of +British subjugation by the Romans? Or, lastly, must we go back to the +Ancient Britons, Druidism, and human sacrifices; and say that those were +the real, unadulterated, genuine, good old times when the true-blue +natives of this island went naked, painted with woad?’ + +‘Upon my word, Sir,’ said Mr. Blenkinsop, ‘after the observations that I +have heard from you this night, I acknowledge that I _do_ feel myself +rather at a loss to assign a precise period to the times in question.’ + +‘Shall I do it for you?’ asked the Statue. + +‘If you please, Sir. I should be very much obliged if you would,’ +replied the bewildered Blenkinsop, greatly relieved. + +‘The best times, Mr. Blenkinsop,’ said the Statue, ‘are the oldest. They +are the wisest; for the older the world grows the more experience it +acquires. It is older now than ever it was. The oldest and best times +the world has yet seen are the present. These, so far as we have yet +gone, are the genuine good old times, Sir.’ + +‘Indeed, Sir?’ ejaculated the astonished Alderman. + +‘Yes, my good friend. These are the best times that we know of—bad as +the best may be. But in proportion to their defects, they afford room +for amendment. Mind that, Sir, in the future exercise of your municipal +and political wisdom. Don’t continue to stand in the light which is +gradually illuminating human darkness. The Future is the date of that +happy period which your imagination has fixed in the Past. It will +arrive when all shall do what is right; hence none shall suffer what is +wrong. The true good old times are yet to come.’ + +‘Have you any idea when, Sir?’ Mr. Blenkinsop inquired, modestly. + +‘That is a little beyond me,’ the Statue answered. ‘I cannot say how +long it will take to convert the Blenkinsops. I devoutly wish you may +live to see them. And with that, I wish you good night, Mr. Blenkinsop.’ + +‘Sir,’ returned Mr. Blenkinsop with a profound bow, ‘I have the honour +to wish you the same.’ + +Mr. Blenkinsop returned home an altered man. This was soon manifest. In +a few days he astonished the Corporation by proposing the appointment of +an Officer of Health to preside over the sanitary affairs of Beetlebury. +It had already transpired that he had consented to the introduction of +lucifer-matches into his domestic establishment, in which, previously, +he had insisted on sticking to the old tinder-box. Next, to the wonder +of all Beetlebury, he was the first to propose a great new school, and +to sign a requisition that a county penitentiary might be established +for the reformation of juvenile offenders. The last account of him is +that he has not only become a subscriber to the mechanics’ institute, +but that he actually presided thereat, lately, on the occasion of a +lecture on Geology. + +The remarkable change which has occurred in Mr. Blenkinsop’s views and +principles, he himself refers to his conversation with the Statue, as +above related. That narrative, however, his fellow townsmen receive with +incredulous expressions, accompanied by gestures and grimaces of like +import. They hint, that Mr. Blenkinsop had been thinking for himself a +little, and only wanted a plausible excuse for recanting his errors. +Most of his fellow aldermen believe him mad; not less on account of his +new moral and political sentiments, so very different from their own, +than of his Statue story. When it has been suggested to them that he has +only had his spectacles cleaned, and has been looking about him, they +shake their heads, and say that he had better have left his spectacles +alone, and that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, and a good deal +of dirt quite the contrary. _Their_ spectacles have never been cleaned, +they say, and any one may see they don’t want cleaning. + +The truth seems to be, that Mr. Blenkinsop has found an altogether new +pair of spectacles, which enable him to see in the right direction. +Formerly, he could only look backwards; he now looks forwards to the +grand object that all human eyes should have in view—progressive +improvement. + + + + + BAPTISMAL RITUALS. + + +The subject of baptism having recently been pressed prominently upon +public attention, it has been thought that a few curious particulars +relating exclusively to the rite as anciently performed would be +interesting. + +In the earliest days of the Christian Church those who were admitted +into it by baptism were necessarily not infants but adolescent or adult +converts. These previously underwent a course of religious instruction, +generally for two years. They were called during their pupilage, +‘catechumens,’[2] a name afterwards transferred to all infants before +baptism. When such candidates were judged worthy to be received within +the pale of the Church, their names were inscribed at the beginning of +Lent, on a list of the competent or ‘illuminated.’ On Easter or +Pentecost eve they were baptised, by three solemn immersions, the first +of the right side, the second of the left, and the third of the face. +They were confirmed at the same time, often, in addition, receiving the +sacrament. Sprinkling was only resorted to in cases of the sick and +bedridden, who were called _clinics_,[3] because they received the rite +in bed. Baptism was at that early period accompanied by certain +symbolical ceremonies long since disused. For example, milk and honey +were given to the new Christian to mark his entrance into the land of +promise, and as a sign of his spiritual infancy in being ‘born again;’ +for milk and honey were the food of children when weaned. The three +immersions were made in honour of the three persons of the Trinity; but +the Arians having found in that ceremony an argument favouring the +notion of distinction and plurality of natures in the Deity, Pope +Gregory by a letter addressed to St. Leander of Seville, ordained that +in Spain, the then stronghold of Arianism, only one immersion should be +practised. This prescription was preserved and applied to the Church +universal by the 6th canon of the Council of Toledo in 633. The triple +immersion was, however, persisted in in Ireland to the 12th century. +Infants were thus baptised by their fathers, or indeed by any other +person at hand, either in water or in milk; but the custom was abolished +in 1172 by the Council of Cashel. + +Footnote 2: + + From the participle of a Greek verb, expressing the act of receiving + rudimentary instruction. + +Footnote 3: + + From a Greek word signifying a bed, whence we derive the word + _clinical_. + +The African churches obliged those who were to be baptised on Easter eve +to bathe on Good Friday, ‘in order,’ says P. Richard, in his _Analyse +des Conciles_, ‘to rid themselves of the impurities contracted during +the observance of Lent before presenting themselves at the sacred font.’ +The bishops and priesthood of some of the Western churches, as at Milan, +in Spain, and in Wales, washed the feet of the newly baptised, in +imitation of the humiliation of the Redeemer. This was forbidden in 303 +by the 48th canon of the Council of Elvira. + +The Baptistery of the early church was one of the _exedræ_, or +out-buildings, and consisted of a porch or ante-room, where adult +converts made their confession of faith, and an inner room, where the +actual baptism took place. Thus it continued till the sixth century, +when baptisteries began to be taken into the church itself. The font was +always of wood or stone. Indeed, we find the provincial council held in +Scotland, in 1225, prescribing those materials as the only ones to be +used. The Church in all ages discouraged private baptism. By the 55th +canon of the same Council, the water which had been used to baptise a +child out of church was to be thrown into the fire, or carried +immediately to the parish baptistery, that it might be employed for no +other purpose; in like manner, the vessel which, had held it was to be +either burnt or consecrated for church use. For many centuries +superstitious virtues were attributed to water which had been used for +baptism. The blind bathed their eyes in it in the hope of obtaining +their sight. It was said to ‘drown the devil,’ and to purify those who +had recourse to it. + +Baptism was by the early Church strictly forbidden during Lent. The +Council of Toledo, held in 694, ordered by its 2nd canon, that, from the +commencement of the fast to Good Friday, every baptistery should be +closed, and sealed up with the seal of the bishop. The Council held at +Reading, Berkshire, in 1279, prescribed that infants born the week +previous to each Easter and Pentecost, should be baptised only at those +festivals. There is no restriction of this kind preserved by the +Reformed Church; but we are admonished in the rubric that the most +acceptable place and time for the ceremony is in church, no later than +the first or second Sunday after birth. Sundays or holidays are +suggested, because ‘the most number of people come together,’ to be +edified thereby, and be witnesses of the admission of the child into the +Church. Private baptism is objected to, except when need shall compel. + +The practice of administering the Eucharist to the adult converts to +Christianity after baptism, was in many churches improperly, during the +fourth century, extended to infants. The priest dipped his fore-finger +into the wine, and put it to the lips of the child to suck. This abuse +of the Holy Sacrament did not survive the twelfth century. It was +repeatedly forbidden by various Councils of the Church, and at length +fell into desuetude. + +Christening fees originated at a very early date. At first, bishops and +those who had aided in the ceremony of baptism were entertained at a +feast. This was afterwards commuted to an actual payment of money. Both +were afterwards forbidden. The 48th canon of the Council of Elvira, held +in 303, prohibits the leaving of money in the fonts, ‘that the ministers +of the Church may not appear to sell that which it is their duty to give +gratuitously.’ This rule was, however, as little observed in the Middle +Ages as it has been since. Strype says, that in 1560 it was enjoined by +the heads of the Church that, ‘to avoid contention, let the curate have +the value of the “Chrisome,” not under 4_d._, and above as they can +agree, and as the state of the parents may require.’ The Chrisome was +the white cloth placed by the minister upon the head of a child, which +had been newly anointed with chrism, or hallowed ointment composed of +oil and balm, always used after baptism. The gift of this cloth was +usually made by the mother at the time of Churching. To show how +enduring such customs are, even after the occasion for them has passed +away, we need only quote a passage from Morant’s ‘Essex.’ ‘In Denton +Church there has been a custom, time out of mind, at the churching of a +woman, for her to give a white cambric handkerchief to the minister as +an offering.’ The same custom is kept up in Kent, as may be seen in +Lewis’s History of the Isle of Thanet. + +The number of sponsors for each child was prescribed by the 4th Canon of +the Council of York, in 1196, to be _no more_ than three persons;—two +males and one female for a boy, and two females and one male for a +girl;—a rule which is still preserved. A custom sprung up afterwards, +which reversed the old state of things. By little and little, large +presents were looked for from sponsors, not only to the child but to its +mother; the result was that there grew to be a great difficulty in +procuring persons to undertake so expensive an office. Indeed, it +sometimes happened that fraudulent parents had a child baptised thrice, +for the sake of the godfather’s gifts. To remedy these evils, a Council +held at l’Isle, in Provence, in 1288, ordered that thenceforth nothing +was to be given to the baptised but a white robe. This prescription +appears to have been kept for ages; Stow, in his Chronicle of King +James’s Reign, says, ‘At this time, and for many ages, it was not the +use and custom (as now it is) for godfathers and godmothers to give +plate at the baptism of children, but only to give _christening shirts_, +with little bands and cuffs, wrought either with silk or blue thread, +the best of them edged with a small lace of silk and gold.’ Cups and +spoons have, however, stood their ground as favourite presents to babies +on such occasions, ever since. ‘Apostle spoons’—so called because a +figure of one of the apostles was chased on the handle of each—were +anciently given: opulent sponsors presenting the whole twelve. Those in +middling circumstances gave four, and the poorer sort contented +themselves with the gift of one, exhibiting the figure of any saint, in +honour of whom the child received its name. Thus, in the books of the +Stationers’ Company, we find under 1560, ‘a spoone the gift of Master +Reginald Woolf, all gilte, with the picture of St. John.’ + +Shakspeare, in his Henry VIII., makes the king say, when Cranmer +professes himself unworthy to be sponsor to the young princess:— + + ‘Come, come, my lord, you’d spare your spoons.’ + +Again, in Davenant’s Comedy of ‘The Wits,’ (1639): + + ‘My pendants, cascanets, and rings; + My christ’ning caudle-cup and spoons, + Are dissolved into that lump.’ + +The coral and bells is an old invention for baptismal presents. Coral +was anciently considered an amulet against fascination and evil spirits. + +It is to be regretted that, at the present time, the grave +responsibilities of the sponsors of children is too often considered to +end with the presentation of some such gifts as we have enumerated. It +is not to our praise that the ties between sponsors and god-children, +were much closer, and held more sacredly in times which we are pleased +to call barbarous. God-children were placed not only in a state of +pupilage with their sureties, but also in the position of relations. A +sort of relationship was established even between the Godfathers and +Godmothers; insomuch, that marriage between any such parties was +forbidden under pain of severe punishment. This injunction, like many +others, had it appears been sufficiently disobeyed to warrant a special +canon (12th) of the Council of Compiègne, held so early as 757, which +enforced the separation of all those sponsors and God-children of both +sexes who had intermarried, and the Church refused the rites of marriage +to the women so separated. A century after (815) the Council of Mayence +not only reinforced these restrictions and penalties, but added others. + + + + + ARCTIC HEROES. + + A FRAGMENT OF NAVAL HISTORY. + + SCENE, _a stupendous region of icebergs and snow. The bare mast of a + half-buried ship stands among the rifts and ridges. The figures of + two men, covered closely with furs and skins, slowly emerge from + beneath the winter-housing of the deck, and descend upon the snow + by an upper ladder, and steps cut below in the frozen wall of + snow. They advance._ + + + _1st Man._ We are out of hearing now. Give thy heart words. + + [_They walk on in silence some steps further, and then pause._ + + _2nd Man._ Here ‘midst the sea’s unfathomable ice, + Life-piercing cold, and the remorseless night + Which never ends, nor changes its dead face, + Save in the ’ghast smile of the hopeless moon, + Must slowly close our sum of wasted hours; + And with them all the enterprising dreams, + Efforts, endurance, and resolve, which make + The power and glory of us Englishmen. + + _1st Man._ It _may_ be so. + + _2nd Man._ Oh, doubt not but it must. + Day after day, week crawling after week, + So slowly that they scarcely seem to move, + Nor we to know it, till our calendar + Shows us that months have lapsed away, and left + Our drifting time, while here our bodies lie + Like melancholy blots upon the snow. + Thus have we lived, and gradually seen, + By calculations which appear to mock + Our hearts with their false figures, that ’tis now + Three years since we were cut off from the world + By these impregnable walls of solid ocean! + + _1st Man._ All this is true: the physical elements + We thought to conquer, are too strong for man. + + _2nd Man._ We have felt the crush of battle side by side; + Seen our best friends, with victory in their eyes, + Suddenly smitten down, a mangled heap, + And thought our own turn might be next; yet never + Drooped we in spirit, or such horror felt + As in the voiceless tortures of this place, + Which freezes up the mind. + + _1st Man._ Not yet. + + _2nd Man._ I feel it. + Death, flying red-eyed from the cannon’s mouth, + Were child’s play to confront, compared with this. + Inch by inch famine in the silent frost— + The cold anatomies of our dear friends, + One by one carried in their rigid sheets + To lay beneath the snow—till he that’s last, + Creeps to the lonely horror of his berth + Within the vacant ship, and while the bears + Grope round and round, thinks of his distant home— + Those dearest to him—glancing rapidly + Through his past life—then with a wailful sigh + And a brief prayer, his soul becomes a blank. + + _1st Man._ This is despair—I’ll hear no more of it. + We have provisions still. + + _2nd Man._ And for how long? + + _1st Man._ A flock of wild birds may pass over us, + And some our shots may reach. + + _2nd Man._ And by this chance + Find food for one day more. + + _1st Man._ Yes, and thank God; + For the next day may preservation come, + And rescue from old England. + + _2nd Man._ All our fuel + Is nearly gone; and as the last log burns + And falls in ashes, so may we foresee + The frozen circle sitting round. + + _1st Man._ Nay, nay— + Our boats, loose spars, our masts, and half our decks + Must serve us ere that pass. But, if indeed + Nothing avail, and no help penetrate + To this remote place, inaccessible + Perchance for years, except to some wild bird— + We came here knowing all this might befal, + And set our lives at stake. God’s will be done. + I, too, have felt the horrors of our fate: + Jammed in a moving field of solid ice, + Borne onward day and night we knew not where, + Till the loud cracking sounds reverberating + Far distant, were soon followed by the rending + Of the vast pack, whose heaving blocks and wedges, + Like crags broke loose, all rose to our destruction + As by some ghastly instinct. Then the hand + Of winter smote the all-congealing air, + And with its freezing tempest piled on high + These massy fragments which environ us:— + Cathedrals many-spired, by lightning riven— + Sharp-angled chaos-heaps of palaced cities, + With splintered pyramids, and broken towers + That yawn for ever at the bursting moon + And her four pallid flame-spouts. Now, appalled + By the long roar o’ the cloud-like avalanche— + Now, by the stealthy creeping of the glaciers + In silence tow’rds our frozen ships. So Death + Hath often whispered to me in the night; + And I have seen him in the Aurora-gleam + Smile as I rose and came upon the deck; + Or when the icicle’s prismatic glance— + Bright, flashing,—and then, colourless, unmoved ice— + Emblem’d our passing life, and its cold end. + Oh, friend in many perils, fail not now! + Am I not, e’en as thou art, utterly sick + Of my own heavy heart, and loading clothes?— + A mind—that in its firmest hour hath fits + Of madness for some change, that shoot across + Its steadfastness, and scarce are trampled down. + Yet, friend, I will not let my spirit sink, + Nor shall mine eyes, e’en with snow-blindness veiled, + Man’s great prerogative of inward sight + Forego, nor cease therein to speculate + On England’s feeling for her countrymen; + Whereof relief will some day surely come. + + _2nd Man._ I well believe it; but perhaps too late. + + _1st Man._ Then, if too late, one noble task remains, + And one consoling thought. We, to the last, + With firmness, order, and considerate care, + Will act as though our death-beds were at home, + Grey heads with honour sinking to the tomb; + So future times shall record bear that we, + Imprisoned in these frozen horrors, held + Our sense of duty, both to man and God. + + _The muffled beat of the ship’s bell sounds for evening prayers._ + _The two men return: they ascend the steps in the snow—then the + ladder—and disappear beneath the snow-covered housing of the + deck._ + + + + + A CORONER’S INQUEST. + + + If there appeared a paragraph in the newspapers, stating that her + Majesty’s representative, the Lord Chief Justice of the Queen’s Bench, + had held a solemn Court in the parlour of the ‘Elephant and + Tooth-pick,’ the reader would rightly conceive that the Crown and + dignity of our Sovereign Lady had suffered some derogation. Yet an + equal abasement daily takes place without exciting especial wonder. + The subordinates of the Lord Chief Justice of the Queen’s Bench (who + is, by an old law, the Premier Coroner of all England) habitually + preside at houses of public entertainment; yet they are no less + delegates of Royalty—as the name of their office implies[4]—than the + ermined dignitary himself, when surrounded with all the pomp and + circumstance of the law’s majesty at Westminster. This is quite + characteristic of our thoroughly commercial nation. An action about a + money-debt is tried in an imposing manner in a spacious edifice, and + with only too great an excess of formality; but for an inquest into + the sacrifice of a mere human life, ‘the worst inn’s worst room’ is + deemed good enough. In order rightly to determine whether Jones owes + Smith five pounds ten, the Goddess of Justice is surrounded with the + most imposing insignia, and worshipped in an appropriate temple: but + when she is invoked to decide why a human spirit, + +Footnote 4: + + It is derived from _a coronâ_ (from the crown), because the coroner, + says Coke, “hath conusance in some pleas which are called _placita + coronæ_.” + + ‘Unhousel’d, disappointed, unanel’d, + No reckoning made, is sent to its account + With all its imperfections on its head;’ + + she is thrust into the ‘Hole in the Wall,’ the ‘Bag o’ Nails,’ or the + parlour of the ‘Two Spies.’ + + Desirous of having aural and ocular demonstration of the curious + manner in which the office of Coroner is now fulfilled, we were + attracted, a few weeks since, to the Old Drury Tavern, in Vinegar + Yard, Drury Lane. Having made our way to a small parlour, we perceived + the Majesty of England, as personated on this occasion, enveloped in + an ordinary surtout, sitting at the head of a table, and surrounded by + a knot of good-humoured faces, who might, if judged from mere + appearances, have rallied round their president for some social + purpose—only that the cigars and spirits and water had not yet come + in. There was nothing official to be seen but a few pens, a sheet or + two of paper, an inkstand, and a parish beadle. + + When we entered, the Coroner was holding a friendly conversation with + some of the jury, the beadle, and the gentlemen of the press, + respecting the inferiority of the accommodation; and, considering the + number of persons present, and the accessions expected from more + jurymen, parochial officers, and witnesses, the subject was suggested + naturally enough: for the private apartment of the landlord was of + exceedingly moderate dimensions; and that had been appropriated as the + temporary Court. + + Here then, to a back parlour of the Old Drury Tavern, Vinegar Yard, + Drury Lane, London, the Queen’s representative was consigned—by no + fault of his own, but from that of a system of which he is rather a + victim than a promoter—to institute one of the most important + inquiries which the law of England prescribes. A human being had been + prematurely sent into eternity, and the coroner was called upon—amidst + several implements of conviviality, the odour of gin and the smell of + tobacco-smoke—‘to inquire in this manner: that is, to wit, if they + [the witnesses] know where the person was slain, whether it were in + any house, field, bed, tavern, or company, and who were there; who are + culpable, either of the act, or of the force; and who were present, + either men or women, and of what age soever they be, if they can speak + or have any discretion; and how many soever be found culpable they + shall be taken and delivered to the sheriff, and shall be committed to + the gaol.’ So runs the clause of the act of parliament, still in force + by which the coroner and jury were now assembled. It is the second + statute of the fourth year of Edward I., and is the identical law + which is discussed by the grave-diggers in Hamlet. + + The pleasant colloquy about the size of the room ended in a resolution + to adjourn the Court to the ‘Two Spies,’ in a neighbouring alley. Time + appeared, throughout the proceedings, to be as valuable as space, and + the rest of the jurors having dropped in, the coroner—with a bible + supplied from the bar,—at once delivered the oath to the foreman. The + other jurors were rapidly sworn in batches, upon the Old Drury Bible, + under an abridged dispensation administered, if our memory be correct, + by the beadle. + + ‘Now, then, gentlemen,’ said the coroner, ‘we’ll view the body.’ + + Not without alacrity the entire company left their confined quarters + to breathe such air as is vouchsafed in Vinegar Yard. The subject of + inquiry lay at a baker’s shop, ‘a few doors round the corner,’—to use + the topographical formula of the parish functionary—and thither he + ushered us. A few of the window shutters of the shop were up, but in + all other respects there was as little to indicate a house of death as + there was to show it to be a house of mourning. If the journeyman had + not been standing at the end of the counter in his holiday coat, it + would have seemed as if business was going on as usual. There was the + same tempting display of tarts, the same heaps of biscuits, the same + supply of loaves, the same ranges of flour in paper bags as is to be + observed in ordinary bakers’ shops on ordinary occasions. Yet the + mistress of this particular baker’s shop lay dead only a few paces + within, and its master was in gaol on suspicion of having murdered + her. + + Through a parlour and a sort of passage with a bed and a sink in + it,the jury were shown into a confined kitchen. Here, on a mahogany + dining-table, lay the remains covered with a dirty sheet. To describe + the spectacle which presented itself when the beadle, with + business-like immobility turned down the covering, does not happily + fall within our present object. It is, however, necessary to say that + it presented evidences of continued ill-usage from blows and kicks, + not to be beheld without strong indignation. Yet this was not all. + + ‘The cause of death,’ said the beadle—_his_ mind was quite made up—‘is + on the back; it’s covered with bruises: but I suppose you won’t want + to see that, gentlemen.’ + + By no means. Everybody had seen enough; for they were surrounded by + whatever could increase distress and engender disgust. The apartment + was so small, that the table left only room for the jurors to edge + round it one by one; and it was hardly possible to do this, without + actual contact with the head or feet of the corpse. A gridiron and + other black utensils were hanging against the wall, and could only be + escaped by the exercise on the part of the spectators of great + ingenuity of motion. This and the bed-place (bed-_room_ is no word for + it) indicated squalid poverty; but the scene was changed in the + parlour. There, appearances were at least kept up. It was filled with + decent furniture—even elegancies; including a pianoforte and a couple + of portraits. + + These strange evidences of refinement only brought out the squalor, + smallness, and unfitness for any part of a judicial inquiry of the + inner apartments, into more glaring relief. Surely so important a + function as that of a coroner and his jury should not be conducted + amidst such a scene! Besides other obvious objections, the danger of + keeping corpses in confined apartments, and in close neighbourhoods, + was here strongly exemplified. The smell was so ‘close’ and + insanitary, that the first man who entered the den where the body lay, + caused the window to be opened. Two children, the offspring of the + victim and the accused, lived in these apartments; and above stairs + the house was crowded with lodgers, to all of whom any sort of + infection would have proved the more disastrous from living next door, + as it were, to Death. It is terrible to reflect that every decease + happening among the myriads of the population a little lower in + circumstances than this baker, deals around it its proportion of + destruction to the living, from the same causes. True, that had it + been impossible to retain the body where death occurred—as chances + when several persons live in the same room—it would have been removed. + But where.—The coroner and jury would have had to view it in the + tap-room of a public-house. + + There is another objection—all-powerful in the eyes of a lawyer. He + recognises as a first necessity that the jurors should have no + opportunity of communicating with witnesses, except when before the + Court. But here the melancholy honours of the baker’s shop and parlour + were performed by the two persons from whose evidence the cause of + death was to be chiefly elicited;—the journeyman and a female relative + of the deceased, who were in the house when the last blows were dealt, + and when the woman died. They received the fifteen jurymen who were + presently to judge of their testimony; and there was nothing but the + strong sense of propriety which actuated these gentlemen on the + present occasion, to prevent the witnesses from telling their own + story privately in their own way, to any one or half dozen of the + inquest, and thus to give a premature bent to opinions, the materials + for forming which, ought to be strictly reserved for the public Court. + Many examples can be supplied in illustration of this evil. We select + one:—Some years ago, an old woman in the most wretched part of + Westminster, was found dead in her bed—strangled. When the Coroner and + jury went to view the body, they were ushered by a young female—a + relative—who lived with the deceased. She explained there and then all + about the death. When the Court re-assembled, she was—chiefly, it was + understood, in consequence of what had previously passed—examined as + first and principal witness, and upon her evidence, the verdict + arrived at, was ‘Temporary insanity.’ The case, however, subsequently + passed through more formal judicial ordeals, and the result was, that + the coroner’s prime witness was hanged for the _murder_ of the old + woman. We must have it distinctly understood that not the faintest + shade of parallel exists between the two cases. We bring them together + solely to illustrate the evils of a system. + + On passing into the baker’s parlour, dumb witnesses presented + themselves, which—properly or improperly—must have had their effect on + the promoters of the inquiry. The piano indicated hours formerly + spent, and thoughts once indulged, which, when imagined by minds fresh + from the appalling reality in the squalid kitchen, must have excited + new throes of indignation and pity. One portrait was that of the + bruised and crushed corpse when living and young. Then she must have + been comely; now no feature could be recognised as ever having been + human. Then, she was cleanly and neatly dressed, and, if the pictured + smile might be trusted, happy; now, she lay amidst dirt, the victim of + long, long ill-usage and lingering misery, ended in premature death. + The other, was a likeness of her husband. Had words of love ever + passed between the originals of those painted effigies? Had they ever + courted? It seemed that one of the jurors was inwardly asking some + such question while gazing at the portraits, for he was visibly + affected. + + We all at length made our way to the ‘Two Spies’ in Whitehart Yard, + Brydges Street. The accommodation afforded was a little more spacious + than those of the Old Drury; but the delegated Majesty of the Crown + had no dignity imparted to it from the coroner’s figure being brought + out in relief by a clothes-horse and table cloth which were, during + the inquiry, placed behind him to serve as a fire-screen. Neither did + the case of stuffed birds, the sampler of Moses in the bulrushes, the + picture of the licensed victuallers’ school, or the portraits of the + rubicund host and of his ‘good lady,’ tend to impress the minds of + jury, witnesses, or spectators, with that awe for the supremacy of the + Law which a court of justice is expected to inspire. + + The circumstances as detailed by the witnesses are already familiar to + the readers of newspapers; but from the insecutive manner in which the + evidence was produced, it is difficult to frame a coherent narrative. + It all tended to prove that the husband had for several years + exercised great harshness towards his wife. That boxing her ears and + kicking her were among his ‘habits.’ On the Friday previous to her + decease, the journeyman had been, as usual, ‘bolted down’ in the + bake-house for the night, (such, he said, being the custom in the + trade) and from eleven o’clock till three in the morning he heard a + great noise overhead as of two persons quarrelling, and of one person + dragging the other across the room. There were cries of distress from + the deceased woman. Another witness—a second cousin of the wife—called + on Saturday afternoon. She found the wife in a pitiable state from + ill-usage and want of rest. Her left ear and all that part of the head + was much bruised. There were cuts, and the hair was matted with + congealed blood. The husband was told how much she was injured, but he + did not appear to take any notice of it. A trait of the dread in which + the woman lived of the man was here mentioned; she asked the witness + to ask her husband to allow her to lie down. She dared not prefer so + reasonable a request herself; although she had been up all the + previous night being beaten. He refused. The cousin sat down to dinner + with the wretched pair; only for the purpose of being between them to + prevent further violence, for she had dined. She remained until + half-past three o’clock, and during that interval the husband + frequently boxed his wife’s ears as hard as he could; and once kicked + her with great force. Her usual remonstrance was, ‘Man alive, don’t + touch me.’ The visitor returned in the evening, and she, with the + journeyman, saw another brutal attack, some minutes after which the + victim fell as if in a fit. She was assisted into an inner room, sank + down and never rose again. She lay till the following Sunday morning + in a state of insensibility, and no attempt had been made to procure + surgical assistance. A practitioner at last was summoned, gave no + hope, and the poor creature died on Monday morning. The post mortem + examination, described by the surgeon, revealed the cause of death in + the blows at the side of the head, which he said was like ‘beefsteaks + when beaten by cooks.’ No trace of habitual drunkenness appeared. The + deceased had been, in the course of the inquiry, charged with that. + + A lawyer would have felt especially fidgetty, while these facts were + being elicited. The questions were put in an undecided rambling + manner, and were so interrupted by half-made remarks from the jurors + and other parties in the room, that it was a wonder how the report of + the proceedings, which appeared in the morning newspapers, could have + been so cleverly cleared as it was of the chaff from which it was + winnowed. One or two circumstances occurred during this time which + tended to throw over the whole affair the air of an ill-played farce. + At an interesting point of the evidence, the door was opened, and a + scream from a female voice announced ‘Please sir, the beadle’s + wanted!’ There were four gentlemen sitting on a horse-hair sofa close + behind some of the jury, with whom more than once they entered into + conversation, doubtless about the case in hand. The way in which the + coroner took notice of this breach of every judisprudential rule, was + extremely characteristic: he said, in effect, that there was, perhaps, + no actual harm in it, but it _might_ be objected to—the parties + conversing might be relatives of the accused. In fact, he mildly + insinuated that such unprivileged communications might warp the + jurymen’s judgments—that’s all! + + After the coroner had summed up, the jury returned a verdict of + manslaughter against the husband. The Queen’s representative then + retired, and so did the jury and the beadle; a little extra business + was done at the bar of the ‘Two Spies,’ and, to use a reporter’s pet + phrase, ‘the proceedings terminated.’ + + It is far from our desire, in describing this particular inquest, in + any way to disparage—supposing anything we have said can be construed + into disparagement—any person or persons concerned in it directly or + remotely. Our wish is to point out the exceeding looseness, + informality, and difficulty of ensuring sound judgment, which the + system occasions. Indeed we were told by a competent authority that + the proceedings at the Old Drury and ‘Two Spies’ taverns, formed an + orderly and superior specimen of their class. + + There is a mischief of some gravity, which we have yet to notice. The + essential check upon all judicial or private dereliction is publicity, + and publicity gained through the press in _all_ cases which require + it; but the existing system gives the coroner the power of excluding + reporters. He can, if he pleases, make a Star Chamber of his court, + hold it in a private house, and conduct it in secret. Instances—though + very rare ones—can be adduced of this having been actually done. Here + opens a door to another abuse;—it is known that a certain few among + newspaper hangers-on—persons only connected with the press by the + precarious and slender tenure of ‘a penny-a-line’—find it profitable + to attend inquests—not for legitimate purposes—for their ‘copy’ is + seldom inserted by editors—but to obtain money from relatives and + parties interested in the deceased for what they are pleased to call + ‘suppressing’ their reports. This generally happens in cases which + from their having no public interest whatever would not, under any + circumstances, be admitted into the crowded columns of the journals; + for we can with confidence say that any case in which the public + interests are likely to be staked, once before the editors of any + London Journal, and supplied by a gentleman of their own + establishment, no power on earth could suppress it. It has happened + again occasionally that, from the suddenness with which the coroner is + summoned, and the slovenly manner in which his office is performed, an + inquest that ought to have been made public has wholly escaped the + knowledge of newspaper conductors and their accredited reporters, and + has thus passed over in silence. + + Let us here put up another guard against misconception. No imputation + _can_ rest upon any accredited member of the press; the high state + dignities which some men who have been reporters now so well support, + are a guarantee against that. Neither do we wish to undervalue the + important services sometimes performed by occasional or ‘penny-a-line’ + reporters; among whom there are honourable and clever men. We only + point out a small body of exceptional characters who are no more than + what we have described—‘hangers-on’ of the press. + + We now proceed to suggest a remedy for the inherent vices of + ‘Crowner’s quests.’ + + In the report of the Board of Health on intramural interments, upon + which a bill now before Parliament is founded, it is proposed to erect + in convenient parts of London eight reception-houses for the dead, + previous to interment in the cemeteries to be established. This will + remove the mortal remains from that immediate and fatal contact—fatal, + morally as well as physically—which is compulsory among the poorer + classes under the existing system of sepulture. It appears that of the + deaths which take place in the metropolis, in upwards of 20,000 + instances the corpse must be kept, during the interval between the + death and the interment, in the same room in which the surviving + members of the family live and sleep; while of the 8,000 deaths every + year from epidemic diseases, by far the greater part happen under the + circumstances just described. + + If from these causes the necessity for dead-houses is so great when no + inquest is necessary, how much stronger is it when the services of the + coroner are requisite? The reason given for the peripatetic nature of + the office, is the assumed necessity of the jury seeing the bodies on + the spot and in the circumstances of death. But that such a necessity + is unreal was proved on the inquest we have been detailing, by the + fact of the remains having been lifted from the bed where life ceased, + to a table, and having been opened by the surgeons. Surely, removal to + a wholesome and convenient reception-house, would not disturb such + appearances as may be presumed to form evidence. As it is, the only + place among the poor in which medical men can perform the important + duty of examination by _post mortem_ dissection is a room crowded with + inmates—or the tap-room of the nearest tavern. + + To preserve, then, a degree of order, dignity, and solemnity equal at + least to that which is maintained to try an action for debt, and to + prevent the possibility of any ‘private’ dealings, we would strongly + urge that a suitable Coroner’s Court-house be attached to each of the + proposed reception-houses. A clause to this effect can be easily + introduced into the new bill. With such accommodation the coroner + could perform his office in a manner worthy of a delegate of the + Crown, and no such informalities as tend to intercept and taint the + pure stream of Justice could continue to exist. + + + + + FRANCIS JEFFREY. + + + JEFFREY was a year younger than SCOTT, whom he outlived eighteen + years, and with whose career his own had some points of resemblance. + They came of the same middle-class stock, and had played together as + lads in the High School ‘yard’ before they met as advocates in the + Court of Session. The fathers of both were connected with that Court; + and from childhood, both were devoted to the law. But Scott’s boyish + infirmity imprisoned him in Edinburgh, while Jeffrey was let loose to + Glasgow University, and afterwards passed up to Queen’s College, + Oxford. The boys, thus separated, had no remembrance of having + previously met, when they saw each other at the Speculative Society in + 1791. + + The Oxford of that day suited Jeffrey ill. It suited few people well + who cared for anything but cards and claret. Southey, who came just + after him, tells us that the Greek he took there he left there, nor + ever passed such unprofitable months; and Lord Malmesbury, who had + been there but a little time before him, wonders how it was that so + many men should make their way in the world creditably, after leaving + a place that taught nothing but idleness and drunkenness. But Jeffrey + was not long exposed to its temptations. He left after the brief + residence of a single term; and what in after life he remembered most + vividly in connection with it, seems to have been the twelve days’ + hard travelling between Edinburgh and London which preceded his + entrance at Queen’s. Some seventy years before, another Scotch lad, on + his way to become yet more famous in literature and law, had taken + nearly as many weeks to perform the same journey; but, between the + schooldays of Mansfield and of Jeffrey, the world had not been + resting. + + It was enacting its greatest modern incident, the first French + Revolution, when the young Scotch student returned to Edinburgh and + changed his College gown for that of the advocate. Scott had the start + of him in the Court of Session by two years, and had become rather + active and distinguished in the Speculative Society before Jeffrey + joined it. When the latter, then a lad of nineteen, was introduced, + (one evening in 1791), he observed a heavy-looking young man + officiating as secretary, who sat solemnly at the bottom of the table + in a huge woollen night-cap, and who, before the business of the night + began, rose from his chair, and, with imperturbable gravity seated on + as much of his face as was discernible from the wrappings of the + ‘portentous machine’ that enveloped it, apologised for having left + home with a bad toothache. This was his quondam schoolfellow Scott. + Perhaps Jeffrey was pleased with the mingled enthusiasm for the + speculative, and regard for the practical, implied in the woollen + night-cap; or perhaps he was interested by the Essay on Ballads which + the hero of the night-cap read in the course of the evening: but + before he left the meeting he sought an introduction to Mr. Walter + Scott, and they were very intimate for many years afterwards. + + The Speculative Society dealt with the usual subjects of elocution and + debate prevalent in similar places then and since; such as, whether + there ought to be an Established Religion, and whether the Execution + of Charles I. was justifiable, and if Ossian’s poems were authentic? + It was not a fraternity of speculators by any means of an alarming or + dangerous sort. John Allen and his friends, at this very time, were + spouting forth active sympathy for French Republicanism at Fortune’s + Tavern, under immediate and watchful superintendence of the Police; + James Macintosh was parading the streets with Horne Tooke’s colours in + his hat; James Montgomery was expiating in York Jail his exulting + ballad on the Fall of the Bastille; and Southey and Coleridge, in + despair of old England, had completed the arrangements of their + youthful colony for a community of property, and proscription of + everything selfish, on the banks of the Susquehana;—but the + Speculative orators rarely probed the sores of the body politic deeper + than an inquiry into the practical advantages of belief in a future + state? and whether it was for the interest of Britain to maintain the + balance of Europe? or if knowledge could be too much disseminated + among the lower ranks of the people? + + In short, nothing of the extravagance of the time, on either side, is + associable with the outset of Jeffrey’s career. As little does he seem + to have been influenced, on the one hand, by the democratic foray of + some two hundred convention delegates into Edinburgh in 1792, as, on + the other, by the prominence of his father’s name to a protest of + frantic high-tory defiance; and he was justified not many years since + in referring with pride to the fact that, at the opening of his public + life, his view of the character of the first French revolution, and of + its probable influence on other countries, had been such as to require + little modification during the whole of his subsequent career. The + precision and accuracy of his judgment had begun to show itself thus + early. At the crude young Jacobins, so soon to ripen into Quarterly + Reviewers, who were just now coquetting with Mary Woolstonecraft, or + making love to the ghost of Madame Roland, or branding as worthy of + the bowstring the tyrannical enormities of Mr. Pitt, he could afford + to laugh from the first. From the very first he had the strongest + liberal tendencies, but restrained them so wisely that he could + cultivate them well. + + He joined the band of youths who then sat at the feet of Dugald + Stewart, and whose first incentive to distinction in the more + difficult paths of knowledge, as well as their almost universal + adoption of the liberal school of politics, are in some degree + attributable to the teaching of that distinguished man. Among them + were Brougham and Horner, who had played together from boyhood in + Edinburgh streets, had joined the Speculative on the same evening six + years after Jeffrey (who in Brougham soon found a sharp opponent on + colonial and other matters), and were still fast friends. Jeffrey’s + father, raised to a deputy clerk of session, now lived on a third or + fourth flat in Buchanan’s Court in the Lawn Market, where the worthy + old gentleman kept two women servants and a man at livery; but where + the furniture does not seem to have been of the soundest. This fact + his son used to illustrate by an anecdote of the old gentleman eagerly + setting-to at a favourite dinner one day, with the two corners of the + table cloth tied round his neck to protect his immense professional + frills, when the leg of his chair gave way, and he tumbled back on the + floor with all the dishes, sauces, and viands a-top of him. Father and + son lived here together, till the latter took for his first wife the + daughter of the Professor of Hebrew in the University of St. Andrew, + and moved to an upper story in another part of town. He had been + called to the bar in 1794, and was married eight years afterward. He + had not meanwhile obtained much practice, and the elevation implied in + removal to an upper flat is not of the kind that a young Benedict + covets. But distinction of another kind was at length at hand. + + One day early in 1802, ‘in the eighth or ninth story or flat in + Buccleugh Place, the elevated residence of the then Mr. Jeffrey,’ Mr. + Jeffrey had received a visit from Horner and Sydney Smith, when + Sydney, at this time a young English curate temporarily resident in + Edinburgh, preaching, teaching, and joking with a flow of wit, + humanity, and sense that fascinated everybody, started the notion of + the Edinburgh Review. The two Scotchmen at once voted the Englishman + its editor, and the notion was communicated to John Archibald Murray + (Lord Advocate after Jeffrey, long years afterward), John Allen (then + lecturing on medical subjects at the University, but who went abroad + before he could render any essential service), and Alexander Hamilton + (afterwards Sanscrit professor at Haileybury). This was the first + council; but it was extended, after a few days, till the two Thomsons + (John and Thomas, the physician and the advocate), Thomas Brown (who + succeeded to Dugald Stewart’s chair), and Henry Brougham, were + admitted to the deliberations. Horner’s quondam playfellow was an ally + too potent to be obtained without trouble; and, even thus early, had + not a few characteristics in common with the Roman statesman and + orator whom it was his greatest ambition in after life to resemble, + and of whom Shakspeare has told us that he never followed anything + that other men began. + + ‘You remember how cheerfully Brougham approved of our plan at first,’ + wrote Jeffrey to Horner, in April, in the thick of anxious + preparations for the start, ‘and agreed to give us an article or two + without hesitation. Three or four days ago I proposed two or three + books that I thought would suit him; when he answered, with perfect + good humour, that he had changed his view of our plan a little, and + rather thought now that he should decline to have any connection with + it.’ This little coquetry was nevertheless overcome; and before the + next six months were over, Brougham had become an efficient and + zealous member of the band. + + It is curious to see how the project hung fire at first. Jeffrey had + nearly finished four articles, Horner had partly written four, and + more than half the number was printed; and yet well nigh the other + half had still to be written. The memorable fasciculus at last + appeared in November, after a somewhat tedious gestation of nearly ten + months; having been subject to what Jeffrey calls so ‘miserable a + state of backwardness’ and so many ‘symptoms of despondency,’ that + Constable had to delay the publication some weeks beyond the day first + fixed. Yet as early as April had Sydney Smith completed more than half + of what he contributed, while nobody else had put pen to paper; and + shortly after the number appeared he was probably not sorry to be + summoned, with his easy pen and his cheerful wit, to London, and to + abandon the cares of editorship to Jeffrey. + + No other choice could have been made. That first number settled the + point. It is easy to discover that Jeffrey’s estimation in Edinburgh + had not, up to this time, been in any just proportion to his powers; + and that, even with those who knew him best, his playful and sportive + fancy sparkled too much to the surface of his talk to let them see the + grave deep currents that ran underneath. Every one now read with + surprise the articles attributed to him. Sydney had yielded him the + place of honour, and he had vindicated his right to it. He had thrown + out a new and forcible style of criticism, with a fearless, + unmisgiving, and unhesitating courage. Objectors might doubt or cavil + at the opinions expressed; but the various and comprehensive + knowledge, the subtle argumentative genius, the brilliant and definite + expression, there was no disputing or denying. A fresh and startling + power was about to make itself felt in literature. + + ‘Jeffrey,’ said his most generous fellow labourer, a few days after + the Review appeared, ‘is the person who will derive most honour from + this publication, as his articles in this number are generally known, + and are incomparably the best; I have received the greater pleasure + from this circumstance, because the genius of that little man has + remained almost unknown to all but his most intimate acquaintances. + His manner is not at first pleasing; what is worse, it is of that cast + which almost irresistibly impresses upon strangers the idea of levity + and superficial talents. Yet there is not any man, whose real + character is so much the reverse; he has, indeed, a very sportive and + playful fancy, but it is accompanied with an extensive and varied + information, with a readiness of apprehension almost intuitive, with + judicious and calm discernment, with a profound and penetrating + understanding.’ This confident passage from a private journal of the + 20th November, 1802, may stand as a remarkable monument of the + prescience of Francis Horner. + + Yet it was also the opinion of this candid and sagacious man that he + and his fellows had not gained much character by that first number of + the Review. As a set-off to the talents exhibited, he spoke of the + severity—of what, in some of the papers, might be called the + scurrility—as having given general dissatisfaction; and he predicted + that they would have to soften their tone, and be more indulgent to + folly and bad taste. Perhaps it is hardly thus that the objection + should have been expressed. It is now, after the lapse of nearly half + a century, admitted on all hands that the tone adopted by these young + Edinburgh reviewers was in some respects extremely indiscreet; and + that it was not simply folly and bad taste, but originality and + genius, that had the right to more indulgence at their hands. When + Lord Jeffrey lately collected Mr. Jeffrey’s critical articles, he + silently dropped those very specimens of his power which by their + boldness of view, severity of remark, and vivacity of expression, + would still as of old have attracted the greatest notice; and + preferred to connect with his name, in the regard of such as might + hereafter take interest in his writings, only those papers which, by + enforcing what appeared to him just principles and useful opinions, he + hoped might have a tendency to make men happier and better. Somebody + said by way of compliment of the early days of the Scotch Review, that + it made reviewing more respectable than authorship; and the remark, + though essentially the reverse of a compliment, exhibits with + tolerable accuracy the general design of the work at its outset. Its + ardent young reviewers took a somewhat too ambitious stand above the + literature they criticised. ‘To all of us,’ Horner ingenuously + confessed, ‘it is only matter of temporary amusement and subordinate + occupation.’ + + Something of the same notion was in Scott’s thoughts when, smarting + from a severe but not unjust or ungenerous review of Marmion, he said + that Jeffrey loved to see imagination best when it is bitted and + managed, and ridden upon the _grand pas_. He did not make sufficient + allowance for starts and sallies and bounds, when Pegasus was + beautiful to behold, though sometimes perilous to his rider. He would + have had control of horse as well as rider, Scott complained, and made + himself master of the ménage to both. But on the other hand this was + often very possible; and nothing could then be conceived more charming + than the earnest, playful, delightful way in which his comments + adorned and enriched the poets he admired. Hogarth is not happier in + Charles Lamb’s company, than is the homely vigour and genius of Crabbe + under Jeffrey’s friendly leading; he returned fancy for fancy to + Moore’s exuberance, and sparkled with a wit as keen; he ‘tamed his + wild heart’ to the loving thoughtfulness of Rogers, his scholarly + enthusiasm, his pure and vivid pictures; with the fiery energy and + passionate exuberance of Byron, his bright courageous spirit broke + into earnest sympathy; for the clear and stirring strains of Campbell + he had an ever lively and liberal response; and Scott, in the midst of + many temptations to the exercise of severity, never ceased to awaken + the romance and generosity of his nature. + + His own idea of the more grave critical claims put forth by him in his + early days, found expression in later life. He had constantly + endeavoured, he said, to combine ethical precepts with literary + criticism. He had earnestly sought to impress his readers with a + sense, both of the close connection between sound intellectual + attainments, and the higher elements of duty and enjoyment; and of the + just and ultimate subordination of the former to the latter. Nor + without good reason did he take this praise to himself. The taste + which Dugald Stewart had implanted in him, governed him more than any + other at the outset of his career; and may often have contributed not + a little, though quite unconsciously, to lift the aspiring young + metaphysician somewhat too ambitiously above the level of the luckless + author summoned to his judgment seat. Before the third year of the + review had opened, he had broken a spear in the lists of metaphysical + philosophy even with his old tutor, and with Jeremy Bentham, both in + the maturity of their fame; he had assailed, with equal gallantry, the + opposite errors of Priestley and Reid; and, not many years later, he + invited his friend Alison to a friendly contest, from which the + fancies of that amiable man came out dulled by a superior brightness, + by more lively, varied, and animated conceptions of beauty, and by a + style which recommended a more than Scotch soberness of doctrine with + a more than French vivacity of expression. + + For it is to be said of Jeffrey, that when he opposed himself to + enthusiasm, he did so in the spirit of an enthusiast; and that this + had a tendency to correct such critical mistakes as he may + occasionally have committed. And as of him, so of his Review. In + professing to go deeply into the _principles_ on which its judgments + were to be rested, as well as to take large and original views of all + the important questions to which those works might relate,—it + substantially succeeded, as Jeffrey presumed to think it had done, in + familiarising the public mind with higher speculations, and sounder + and larger views of the great objects of human pursuit; as well as in + permanently raising the standard, and increasing the influence, of all + such occasional writings far beyond the limits of Great Britain. + + Nor let it be forgotten that the system on which Jeffrey established + relations between his writers and publishers has been of the highest + value as a precedent in such matters, and has protected the + independence and dignity of a later race of reviewers. He would never + receive an unpaid-for contribution. He declined to make it the + interest of the proprietors to prefer a certain class of contributors. + The payment was ten guineas a sheet at first, and rose gradually to + double that sum, with increase on special occasions; and even when + rank or other circumstances made remuneration a matter of perfect + indifference, Jeffrey insisted that it should nevertheless be + received. The Czar Peter, when working in the trenches, he was wont to + say, received pay as a common soldier. Another principle which he + rigidly carried out, was that of a thorough independence of publishing + interests. The Edinburgh Review was never made in any manner tributary + to particular bookselling schemes. It assailed or supported with equal + vehemence or heartiness the productions of Albemarle-street and + Paternoster-row. ‘I never asked such a thing of him but once,’ said + the late Mr. Constable, describing an attempt to obtain a favourable + notice from his obdurate Editor, ‘and I assure you the result was no + encouragement to repeat such petitions.’ The book was Scott’s edition + of Swift; and the result one of the bitterest attacks on the + popularity of Swift, in one of Jeffrey’s most masterly criticisms. + + He was the better able thus to carry his point, because against more + potent influences he had already taken a decisive stand. It was not + till six years after the Review was started that Scott remonstrated + with Jeffrey on the virulence of its party politics. But much earlier + even than this, the principal proprietors had made the same complaint; + had pushed their objections to the contemplation of Jeffrey’s + surrender of the editorship; and had opened negotiations with writers + known to be bitterly opposed to him. To his honour, Southey declined + these overtures, and advised a compromise of the dispute. Some of the + leading Whigs themselves were discontented, and Horner had appealed to + him from the library of Holland House. Nevertheless, Jeffrey stood + firm. He carried the day against Paternoster-row, and unassailably + established the all-important principle of a perfect independence of + his publishers’ control. He stood as resolute against his friend + Scott; protesting that on one leg, and the weakest, the Review could + not and should not stand, for that its _right leg_ he knew to be + politics. To Horner he replied by carrying the war into the Holland + House country with inimitable spirit and cogency. ‘Do, for Heaven’s + sake, let your Whigs do something popular and effective this session. + Don’t you see the nation is now divided into two, and only two + parties; and that _between_ these stand the Whigs, utterly + inefficient, and incapable of ever becoming efficient, if they will + still maintain themselves at an equal distance from both. You must lay + aside a great part of your aristocratic feelings, and side with the + most respectable and sane of the democrats.’ + + The vigorous wisdom of the advice was amply proved by subsequent + events, and its courage nobody will doubt who knows anything of what + Scotland was at the time. In office, if not in intellect, the Tories + were supreme. A single one of the Dundases named the sixteen Scots + peers, and forty-three of the Scots commoners; nor was it an + impossible farce, that the sheriff of a county should be the only + freeholder present at the election of a member to represent it in + Parliament, should as freeholder vote himself chairman, should as + chairman receive the oaths and the writ from himself as sheriff, + should as chairman and sheriff sign them, should propose himself as + candidate, declare himself elected, dictate and sign the minutes of + election, make the necessary indenture between the various parties + represented solely by himself, transmit it to the Crown-office, and + take his seat by the same night’s mail to vote with Mr. Addington! We + must recollect such things, when we would really understand the + services of such men as Jeffrey. We must remember the evil and + injustice he so strenuously laboured to remove, and the cost at which + his labour was given. We must bear in mind that he had to face day by + day, in the exercise of his profession, the very men most interested + in the abuses actively assailed, and keenly resolved as far as + possible to disturb and discredit their assailant. ‘Oh, Mr. Smith,’ + said Lord Stowell to Sydney, ‘you would have been a much richer man if + you had come over to us!’ This was in effect the sort of thing said to + Jeffrey daily in the Court of Session, and disregarded with generous + scorn. What it is to an advocate to be on the deaf side of ‘the ear of + the Court,’ none but an advocate can know; and this, with Jeffrey, was + the twenty-five years’ penalty imposed upon him for desiring to see + the Catholics emancipated, the consciences of dissenters relieved, the + barbarism of jurisprudence mitigated, and the trade in human souls + abolished. + + The Scotch Tories died hard. Worsted in fair fight they resorted to + foul; and among the publications avowedly established for personal + slander of their adversaries, a preeminence so infamous was obtained + by the Beacon, that it disgraced the cause irretrievably. Against this + malignant libeller Jeffrey rose in the Court of Session again and + again, and the result of its last prosecution showed the power of the + party represented by it thoroughly broken. The successful advocate, at + length triumphant even in that Court over the memory of his talents + and virtues elsewhere, had now forced himself into the front rank of + his profession; and they who listened to his advocacy found it even + more marvellous than his criticism, for power, versatility, and + variety. Such rapidity yet precision of thought, such volubility yet + clearness of utterance, left all competitors behind. Hardly any + subject could be so indifferent or uninviting, that this teeming and + fertile intellect did not surround it with a thousand graces of + allusion, illustration, and fanciful expression. He might have + suggested Butler’s hero, + + ‘—who could not ope + His mouth but out there flew a trope,’ + + with the difference that each trope flew to its proper mark, each + fancy found its place in the dazzling profusion, and he could at all + times, with a charming and instinctive ease, put the nicest restraints + and checks on his glowing velocity of declamation. A worthy Glasgow + baillie, smarting under an adverse verdict obtained by these + facilities of speech, could find nothing so bitter to advance against + the speaker as a calculation made with the help of Johnson’s + Dictionary, to the effect that Mr. Jeffrey, in the course of a few + hours, had spoken the whole English language twice over! + + But the Glasgow baillie made little impression on his fellow citizens; + and from Glasgow came the first public tribute to Jeffrey’s now + achieved position, and legal as well as literary fame. He was elected + Lord Rector of the University in 1821 and 1822. Some seven or eight + years previously he had married the accomplished lady who survives + him, a grandniece of the celebrated Wilkes; and had purchased the + lease of the villa near Edinburgh which he occupied to the time of his + death, and whose romantic woods and grounds will long be associated + with his name. At each step of his career a new distinction now + awaited him, and with every new occasion his unflagging energies + seemed to rise and expand. He never wrote with such masterly success + for his Review as when his whole time appeared to be occupied with + criminal prosecutions, with contested elections, with journeyings from + place to place, with examinings and cross-examinings, with speeches, + addresses, exhortations, denunciations. In all conditions and on all + occasions, a very atmosphere of activity was around him. Even as he + sat, apparently still, waiting to address a jury or amaze a witness, + it made a slow man nervous to look at him. Such a flush of energy + vibrated through that delicate frame, such rapid and never ceasing + thought played on those thin lips, such restless flashes of light + broke from those kindling eyes. You continued to look at him, till his + very silence acted as a spell; and it ceased to be difficult to + associate with his small but well-knit figure even the giant-like + labours and exertions of this part of his astonishing career. + + At length, in 1829, he was elected Dean of the Faculty of Advocates; + and thinking it unbecoming that the official head of a great law + corporation should continue the editing of a party organ, he + surrendered the management of the Edinburgh Review. In the year + following, he took office with the Whigs as Lord Advocate, and + replaced Sir James Scarlett in Lord Fitzwilliam’s borough of Malton. + In the next memorable year he contested his native city against a + Dundas; not succeeding in his election, but dealing the last heavy + blow to his opponent’s sinking dynasty. Subsequently he took his seat + as Member for Perth, introduced and carried the Scotch Reform bill, + and in the December of 1832 was declared member for Edinburgh. He had + some great sorrows at this time to check and alloy his triumphs. + Probably no man had gone through a life of eager conflict and active + antagonism with a heart so sensitive to the gentler emotions, and the + deaths of Macintosh and Scott affected him deeply. He had had + occasion, during the illness of the latter, to allude to him in the + House of Commons; and he did this with so much beauty and delicacy, + with such manly admiration of the genius and modest deference to the + opinions of his great Tory friend, that Sir Robert Peel made a journey + across the floor of the house to thank him cordially for it. + + The House of Commons nevertheless was not his natural element, and + when, in 1834, a vacancy in the Court of Session invited him to his + due promotion, he gladly accepted the dignified and honourable office + so nobly earned by his labours and services. He was in his + sixty-second year at the time of his appointment, and he continued for + nearly sixteen years the chief ornament of the Court in which he sat. + In former days the judgment-seats in Scotland had not been unused to + the graces of literature: but in Jeffrey these were combined with an + acute and profound knowledge of law less usual in that connection; and + also with such a charm of demeanour, such a play of fancy and wit + sobered to the kindliest courtesies, such clear sagacity, perfect + freedom from bias, consideration for all differences of opinion; and + integrity, independence, and broad comprehensiveness of view in + maintaining his own; that there has never been but one feeling as to + his judicial career. Universal veneration and respect attended it. The + speculative studies of his youth had done much to soften all the + asperities of his varied and vigorous life, and now, at its close, + they gave to his judgments a large reflectiveness of tone, a moral + beauty of feeling, and a philosophy of charity and good taste, which + have left to his successors in that Court of Session no nobler models + for imitation and example. Impatience of dulness _would_ break from + him, now and then; and the still busy activity of his mind might be + seen as he rose often suddenly from his seat, and paced up and down + before it; but in his charges or decisions nothing of this feeling was + perceptible, except that lightness and grace of expression in which + his youth seemed to linger to the last, and a quick sensibility to + emotion and enjoyment which half concealed the ravages of time. + + If such was the public estimation of this great and amiable man, to + the very termination of his useful life, what language should describe + the charm of his influence in his private and domestic circle? The + affectionate pride with which every citizen of Edinburgh regarded him + rose here to a kind of idolatry. For here the whole man was known—his + kind heart, his open hand, his genial talk, his ready sympathy, his + generous encouragement and assistance to all that needed it. The first + passion of his life was its last, and never was the love of literature + so bright within him as at the brink of the grave. What dims and + deadens the impressibility of most men, had rendered his not only more + acute and fresh, but more tributary to calm satisfaction, and pure + enjoyment. He did not live merely in the past, as age is wont to do, + but drew delight from every present manifestation of worth or genius, + from whatever quarter it addressed him. His vivid pleasure where his + interest was awakened, his alacrity and eagerness of appreciation, the + fervour of his encouragement and praise, have animated the hopes and + relieved the toil alike of the successful and the unsuccessful, who + cannot hope, through whatever chequered future may await them, to find + a more generous critic, a more profound adviser, a more indulgent + friend. + + The present year opened upon Francis Jeffrey with all hopeful promise. + He had mastered a severe illness, and resumed his duties with his + accustomed cheerfulness; private circumstances had more than + ordinarily interested him in his old Review; and the memory of past + friends, giving yet greater strength to the affection that surrounded + him, was busy at his heart. ‘God bless you!’ he wrote to Sydney + Smith’s widow on the night of the 18th of January; ‘I am very old, and + have many infirmities; but I am tenacious of old friendships, and find + much of my present enjoyments in the recollections of the past.’ He + sat in Court the next day, and on the Monday and Tuesday of the + following week, with his faculties and attention unimpaired. On the + Wednesday he had a slight attack of bronchitis; on Friday, symptoms of + danger appeared; and on Saturday he died, peacefully and without pain. + Few men had completed with such consummate success the work appointed + them in this world; few men had passed away to a better with more + assured hopes of their reward. The recollection of his virtues + sanctifies his fame; and his genius will never cease to awaken the + gratitude, respect, and pride of his countrymen. + + HAIL AND FAREWELL! + + + + + THE YOUNG JEW OF TUNIS. + + + People are glad to be assured that an interesting story is true. The + following history was communicated to the writer by a friend, residing + in the East, who had it from the French Consul himself. It reminds one + of the Arabian Nights. + + In the year 1836, a Jewish family residing in Algiers were plunged in + the greatest distress by the death of the father. A son, two + daughters, and a mother were by this calamity left almost destitute. + After the funeral, the son, whose name was Ibrahim, sold what little + property there was to realise and gave it to his mother and sisters; + after which, commending them to the charity of a distant relative, he + left Algiers and departed for Tunis, hoping that if he did not find + his fortune, he would at least make a livelihood there. + + He presented himself to the French Consul with his papers, and + requested a license as a donkey-driver. This was granted, and Ibrahim + entered the service of a man who let out asses, both for carrying + water and for hire. + + Ibrahim was extremely handsome and very graceful in his demeanour; + but, being so poor, his clothes were too ragged for him to be employed + on anything but drudgery that was out of sight. He used to be sent + with water-skins to the meanest parts of the town. + + One day, as he was driving his ass laden with water up a narrow + street, he met a cavalcade of women riding (as usual in that country) + upon donkeys covered with sumptuous housings. He drew on one side to + allow them to pass by, but a string of camels coming up at the same + instant, there ensued some confusion. The veil of one of the women + became slightly deranged, and Ibrahim caught sight of a lovely + countenance. + + He contrived to ascertain who the lady was and where she lived. She + was Rebecca, the only daughter of a wealthy Jew. + + From this time, Ibrahim had but one thought; that of becoming rich + enough to demand Rebecca in marriage. He had already saved up a few + pieces of money; with these he bought himself better clothes, and he + was now sometimes sent to conduct the donkeys hired out for riding. + + It so chanced, that one of his first expeditions was to take Rebecca + and her attendants to a mercer’s shop. Either from accident or + coquetry, Rebecca’s veil became again deranged, and again Ibrahim + beheld the heavenly face beneath it. Ibrahim’s appearance, and his + look of burning passionate love, did not displease the young Jewess. + He frequently attended her on her excursions, and he was often + permitted to see beneath the veil. + + Ibrahim deprived himself almost of the necessaries of life, and at + length saved enough money to purchase an ass of his own. By degrees he + was able to buy more, and became a master employing boys under him. + + When he thought himself sufficiently well off in the world, he + presented himself before the family of Rebecca, and demanded her in + marriage; but they did not consider his prospects brilliant, and + rejected his proposals with contempt. Rebecca, however, sent her old + nurse to him (just as a lady in the ‘Arabian Nights’ might have sent a + similar messenger) to let him know that the family contempt was not + shared by her. + + Ibrahim was more determined than ever to obtain her. He went to a + magician, who bade him return to Algiers, and declared that if he + accepted the _first_ offer of any kind which he should receive after + entering the city, he would become rich and obtain the desire of his + heart. + + Ibrahim sold his asses and departed for Algiers. He walked up and down + the streets till nightfall, in expectation of the mysterious offer + which had been foretold—but no one came. + + He had, however, been observed by a rich widow, somewhat advanced in + years, a Frenchwoman and the widow of an officer of engineers. She + dispatched an attendant to discover who he was and where he lived, and + the next day sent for him to her house. His graceful address + fascinated her even more than his good looks, and she made him + overtures of marriage: offering at the same time to settle upon him a + handsome portion of her wealth. + + This was not precisely the mode in which Ibrahim had intended to make + his fortune; but, he recollected the prediction of the magician, and + accepted the proposal. + + They were married, and for twelve months Ibrahim lived with his wife + in great splendour and apparent happiness. At the end of that time he + professed to be called to Tunis by indispensable business, which would + require his presence for some time. His wife made no opposition, + though she was sorry to lose him, and wished to accompany him; but + that he prohibited, and departed alone: taking with him a good supply + of money. + + He again presented himself before the French Consul at Tunis, who was + surprised at the change in his appearance. His vest of flowered silk, + brocaded with gold, was girded round the waist by a Barbary sash of + the richest silk; his ample trowsers of fine cloth were met by red + morocco boots; a Cashmere shawl of the most radiant colours was + twisted round his head; his beard, carefully trimmed, fell half-way + down his breast; a jewelled dagger hung at his girdle; and an ample + Bournooz worn over all, gave an additional grace to his appearance, + while it served to conceal his rich attire, which far exceeded the + license of the sad-coloured garments prescribed by law to the Jews. + + He lost no time in repairing to the house of Rebecca. She was still + unmarried, and again he made his proposals; this time it was with more + success. He had all the appearance of a man of high consideration; and + the riches which he half-negligently displayed, took their due effect. + He had enjoyed a good character when he lived at Tunis before, and + they took it for granted that he had done nothing to forfeit it. They + asked no questions how his riches had been obtained, but gave him + Rebecca in marriage. + + At the end of six months, the French Consul received inquiries from + Algiers about Ibrahim; his wife, it was said, had become alarmed at + his prolonged absence. + + The Consul sent for Ibrahim, and told him what he had heard. Ibrahim + at first appeared disturbed and afterwards indignant. He denied in the + strongest terms that he had any other wife than Rebecca, but owned + that the woman in question had fallen in love with him. He also denied + that he had given her any sort of legal claim upon him. The French + Consul was perplexed; Ibrahim’s papers were all regular, he had always + led an exemplary life in Tunis, he denied his marriage, and there was + no proof of it. + + Had Ibrahim retained the smallest presence of mind, no harm could have + befallen him. In that land of polygamy, his two wives (even though one + were European) would have caused little scandal. His domestic position + was somewhat complicated but by no means desperate. On departing from + the Consul’s house, however, he would seem to have become possessed by + a strange panic not to be explained by any rules of logic, and to have + gone mad straightway. His one idea was that he was hurried on by + destiny to—murder Rebecca! + + This miserable wretch, possessed by the fixed idea of destroying + Rebecca, made deliberate preparations for carrying it into effect. But + with the strange fanaticism and superstition which formed a main part + of his character, and which forms a part of many such characters in + those countries, he determined to give her a chance for her life; for, + he seems to have thought in some confused, wild, mad, vain way, that + it might still be the will of Providence that she should live. + + He concerted measures with the captain of a Greek vessel, whom he + induced by heavy bribes to enter into his views. He gave it out that + he was going to Algiers, to put an end to the ridiculous report which + had been raised, and to destroy the claim which had been set up by his + pretended wife. + + He embarked with Rebecca, without any attendants, on board the Greek + vessel, which was bound for Algiers. Rebecca was taken at once into + the cabin, where her curiosity was excited by a strange-looking black + box which stood at one end of it. The black box was high and square, + and large enough to contain a person sitting upright. The lid was + thrown back; and she saw that the box was lined with thick cotton + cloth, and contained a small brass pitcher full of water and a loaf of + bread. Whilst she was examining these things, Ibrahim and the Captain + entered; they neither of them spoke one word; but, coming behind her, + Ibrahim placed his hand over her mouth, and muffling her head in her + veil, lifted her into the box with the assistance of the captain, and + shut down the lid, which they securely fastened. They then carried the + box between them upon deck, and lowered it over the side of the + vessel. The box had holes bored in the lid; it was very strong; and so + built as to float like a boat. + + The Greek vessel continued her course towards Algiers. Either the crew + had really not noticed the strange proceedings of Ibrahim and the + Captain, or (which is more probable) they were paid to be silent. It + is certain that they did not attempt to interfere. + + The next morning, as a French steamer, the Panama, was bearing towards + Tunis, something like the hull of a small vessel was seen drifting + about directly in their course. They picked it up, as it floated + athwart the steamer’s bow; and were horrified to hear feeble cries + proceeding from the interior. Hastily breaking it open, they found the + unhappy Rebecca nearly dead with fright and exhaustion. When she was + sufficiently recovered to speak, she told the captain how she had come + into that strange condition, and he made all speed on to Tunis. + + The French Consul immediately dispatched a swift sailing steamer to + Algiers with Rebecca and her nearest friends on board, bearing a + dispatch to the governor, containing a hasty account of all these + things. The steamer arrived first. When the Greek vessel entered the + port, Ibrahim and the Captain were ordered to follow the officer on + guard, and in a few moments Ibrahim stood face to face with his + victim. To render the complication more complete, the French wife + hearing that a steamer from Tunis had arrived with dispatches, went + down to the governor’s house to make inquiries after her husband. + + At first, Ibrahim nearly fainted; but he soon regained his insane + self, and boldly confessed his crime. Addressing himself to Rebecca, + he said: + + ‘I confided thee to the sea, for I thought it might be the will of + Providence to save thee! If thou hadst died, it would have been + Providence that decreed thy fate, but thou art saved, and I am + destroyed.’ + + Both the wives wept bitterly. Their natural jealousy of each other was + merged into the desire to save the fanatic from the consequence of his + madness. Rebecca attempted to deny her former statement, and used + great intercession with her relatives to forego their vengeance. The + Frenchwoman made interest with the authorities too, but it was all, + happily, in vain. The friends of Rebecca were implacable and insisted + on justice. + + Ibrahim works now in the gallies at Toulon. The captain is under + punishment also. The magician, it is to be feared, is practising his + old trade. + + This is, perhaps, as strange an instance as there is on record, of an + audacious and besotted transference of every responsibility to + Providence. As though Providence had left man to work out nothing for + himself! It is probable that this selfish monomaniac made the same + pretext to his mind for basely marrying the widow, whom he intended to + desert. There is no kind of impiety so monstrous as this; and yet + there is, perhaps, none encountered so frequently, in one phase or + other, in many aspects of life. + + * * * * * + + _To be Published Monthly, with the Magazines, + Price 2d., or Stamped, 3d.,_ + + THE HOUSEHOLD NARRATIVE + + OF + + CURRENT EVENTS. + + CONDUCTED + + BY CHARLES DICKENS. + + BEING + + A Monthly Supplement to ‘HOUSEHOLD WORDS.’ + + + Published at the Office, No. 16, Wellington Street North, Strand. + Printed by BRADBURY & EVANS, Whitefriars, London. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + + + ● Fixed typos; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. + ● Renumbered footnotes. + ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. + ● The caret (^) serves as a superscript indicator, applicable to + individual characters (like 2^d) and even entire phrases (like + 1^{st}). + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78168 *** diff --git a/78168-h/78168-h.htm b/78168-h/78168-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9c71b27 --- /dev/null +++ b/78168-h/78168-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3643 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + <head> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title>Household Words, No. 5, April 27, 1850: a Weekly Journal | Project Gutenberg</title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + body { margin-left: 8%; 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} + body {font-family: Garamond, Georgia, serif; text-align: justify; } + table {font-size: .9em; padding: 1.5em .5em 1em; page-break-inside: avoid; + clear: both; } + div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; + page-break-after: always; } + div.titlepage p {text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; + line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 3em; } + .ph2 { text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; + page-break-before: always; } + .x-ebookmaker p.dropcap:first-letter { float: left; } + </style> + </head> + <body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78168 ***</div> + +<div class='tnotes covernote'> + +<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p> + +<p class='c000'>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.</p> + +</div> + +<div class='titlepage'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div>“<i>Familiar in their Mouths as HOUSEHOLD WORDS.</i>”—<span class='sc'>Shakespeare.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span> + <h1 class='c002'>HOUSEHOLD WORDS.<br> <span class='xlarge'>A WEEKLY JOURNAL</span></h1> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div><span class='large'>CONDUCTED BY CHARLES DICKENS.</span></div> + <div class='c001'>N<sup>o.</sup> 5.]      SATURDAY, APRIL 27, 1850.      [<span class='sc'>Price</span> 2<i>d.</i></div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>PET PRISONERS</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>The system of separate confinement first +experimented on in England at the model +prison, Pentonville, London, and now spreading +through the country, appears to us to +require a little calm consideration and reflection +on the part of the public. We purpose, +in this paper, to suggest what we consider +some grave objections to this System.</p> + +<p class='c005'>We shall do this temperately, and without +considering it necessary to regard every one +from whom we differ, as a scoundrel, actuated +by base motives, to whom the most unprincipled +conduct may be recklessly attributed. Our +faith in most questions where the good men +are represented to be all <i>pro</i>, and the bad men +to be all <i>con</i>, is very small. There is a hot +class of riders of hobby-horses in the field, in +this century, who think they do nothing unless +they make a steeple-chase of their object; +throw a vast quantity of mud about, and spurn +every sort of decent restraint and reasonable +consideration under their horses’ heels. This +question has not escaped such championship. +It has its steeple-chase riders, who hold the +dangerous principle that the end justifies any +means, and to whom no means, truth and fair-dealing +usually excepted, come amiss.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Considering the separate system of imprisonment, +here, solely in reference to England, +we discard, for the purpose of this discussion, +the objection founded on its extreme severity, +which would immediately arise if we were +considering it with any reference to the State +of Pennsylvania in America. For whereas in +that State it may be inflicted for a dozen years, +the idea is quite abandoned at home of extending +it usually, beyond a dozen months, or in +any case beyond eighteen months. Besides +which, the school and the chapel afford periods +of comparative relief here, which are not +afforded in America.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Though it has been represented by the +steeple-chase riders as a most enormous heresy +to contemplate the possibility of any prisoner +going mad or idiotic, under the prolonged +effects of separate confinement; and although +any one who should have the temerity to maintain +such a doubt in Pennsylvania, would have +a chance of becoming a profane St. Stephen; +Lord Grey, in his very last speech in the House +of Lords on this subject, made in the present +session of Parliament, in praise of this separate +system, said of it: ‘Wherever it has +been fairly tried, one of its great defects has +been discovered to be this,—that it cannot be +continued for a sufficient length of time without +danger to the individual, and that human +nature cannot bear it beyond a limited period. +The evidence of medical authorities proves +beyond dispute that, if it is protracted beyond +twelve months, the health of the convict, +mental and physical, would require the most +close and vigilant superintendence. Eighteen +months is stated to be the <i>maximum</i> time for +the continuance of its infliction, and, as a +general rule, it is advised that it never be +continued for more than twelve months.’ +This being conceded, and it being clear that +the prisoner’s mind, and all the apprehensions +weighing upon it, must be influenced +from the first hour of his imprisonment by +the greater or less extent of its duration in +perspective before him, we are content to +regard the system as dissociated in England +from the American objection of too great +severity.</p> + +<p class='c005'>We shall consider it, first in the relation of +the extraordinary contrast it presents, in a +country circumstanced as England is, between +the physical condition of the convict in prison, +and that of the hard-working man outside, or +the pauper outside. We shall then enquire, +and endeavour to lay before our readers some +means of judging, whether its proved or +probable efficiency in producing a real, trustworthy, +practically repentant state of mind, +is such as to justify the presentation of that +extraordinary contrast. If, in the end, we +indicate the conclusion that the associated +silent system is less objectionable, it is not +because we consider it in the abstract a good +secondary punishment, but because it is a +severe one, capable of judicious administration, +much less expensive, not presenting the +objectionable contrast so strongly, and not +calculated to pet and pamper the mind of the +prisoner and swell his sense of his own importance. +We are not acquainted with any +system of secondary punishment that we think +reformatory, except the mark system of +Captain Macconnochie, formerly governor of +Norfolk Island, which proceeds upon the principle +of obliging the convict to some exercise +of self-denial and resolution in every act of his +<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>prison life, and which would condemn him to +a sentence of so much labour and good conduct +instead of so much time. There are details +in Captain Macconnochie’s scheme on which +we have our doubts (rigid silence we consider +indispensable); but, in the main, we regard it +as embodying sound and wise principles. +We infer from the writings of Archbishop +Whateley, that those principles have presented +themselves to his profound and acute mind in +a similar light.</p> + +<p class='c005'>We will first contrast the dietary of The +Model Prison at Pentonville, with the dietary +of what we take to be the nearest workhouse, +namely, that of Saint Pancras. In the prison, +every man receives twenty-eight ounces of +meat weekly. In the workhouse, every able-bodied +adult receives eighteen. In the prison, +every man receives one hundred and forty +ounces of bread weekly. In the workhouse, +every able-bodied adult receives ninety-six. +In the prison, every man receives one hundred +and twelve ounces of potatoes weekly. In the +workhouse, every able-bodied adult receives +thirty-six. In the prison, every man receives +five pints and a quarter of liquid cocoa weekly, +(made of flaked cocoa or cocoa-nibs), with fourteen +ounces of milk and forty-two drams of +molasses; also seven pints of gruel weekly, +sweetened with forty-two drams of molasses. +In the workhouse, every able-bodied adult +receives fourteen pints and a half of milk-porridge +weekly, and no cocoa, and no gruel. +In the prison, every man receives three pints +and a half of soup weekly. In the workhouse, +every able-bodied adult male receives four +pints and a half, and a pint of Irish stew. +This, with seven pints of table-beer weekly, +and six ounces of cheese, is all the man in the +workhouse has to set off against the immensely +superior advantages of the prisoner in all the +other respects we have stated. His lodging is +very inferior to the prisoner’s, the costly +nature of whose accommodation we shall presently +show.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Let us reflect upon this contrast in another +aspect. We beg the reader to glance once +more at The Model Prison dietary, and consider +its frightful disproportion to the dietary +of the free labourer in any of the rural parts +of England. What shall we take his wages at? +Will twelve shillings a week do? It cannot +be called a low average, at all events. Twelve +shillings a week make thirty-one pounds four +a year. The cost, in 1848, for the victualling +and management of every prisoner in the +Model Prison was within a little of thirty-six +pounds. Consequently, that free labourer, +with young children to support, with cottage-rent +to pay, and clothes to buy, and no advantage +of purchasing his food in large +amounts by contract, has, for the whole subsistence +of himself and family, between four +and five pounds a year <i>less</i> than the cost of +feeding and overlooking one man in the Model +Prison. Surely to his enlightened mind, and +sometimes low morality, this must be an +extraordinary good reason for keeping out +of it!</p> + +<p class='c005'>But we will not confine ourselves to the +contrast between the labourer’s scanty fare +and the prisoner’s ‘flaked cocoa or cocoa-nibs,’ +and daily dinner of soup, meat, and potatoes. +We will rise a little higher in the scale. Let +us see what advertisers in the <cite>Times</cite> newspaper +can board the middle classes at, and get +a profit out of, too.</p> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_7 c006'>A LADY, residing in a cottage, with a large garden, +in a pleasant and healthful locality, would +be happy to receive one or two LADIES to +BOARD with her. Two ladies occupying the +same apartment may be accommodated for 12s. +a week each. The cottage is within a quarter of +an hour’s walk of a good market town, 10 minutes’ +of a South-Western Railway Station, and an hour’s +distance from town.</p> + +<p class='c004'>These two ladies could not be so cheaply +boarded in the Model Prison.</p> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_7 c006'>BOARD and RESIDENCE, at £70 per annum, +for a married couple, or in proportion for a +single gentleman or lady, with a respectable family. +Rooms large and airy, in an eligible dwelling, at +Islington, about 20 minutes’ walk from the Bank. +Dinner hour six o’clock. There are one or two +vacancies to complete a small, cheerful, and agreeable +circle.</p> + +<p class='c004'>Still cheaper than the Model Prison!</p> + +<p class='drop-capa0_0_7 c006'>BOARD and RESIDENCE.—A lady, keeping a +select school, in a town, about 30 miles from +London, would be happy to meet with a LADY +to BOARD and RESIDE with her. She would +have her own bed-room and a sitting-room. Any +lady wishing for accomplishments would find this +desirable. Terms £30 per annum. References +will be expected and given.</p> + +<p class='c004'>Again, some six pounds a year less than the +Model Prison! And if we were to pursue +the contrast through the newspaper file for +a month, or through the advertising pages of +two or three numbers of Bradshaw’s Railway +Guide, we might probably fill the present +number of this publication with similar examples, +many of them including a decent +education into the bargain.</p> + +<p class='c005'>This Model Prison had cost at the close +of 1847, under the heads of ‘building’ +and ‘repairs’ alone, the insignificant sum +of ninety-three thousand pounds—within +seven thousand pounds of the amount of the +last Government grant for the Education of +the whole people, and enough to pay for the +emigration to Australia of four thousand, six +hundred and fifty poor persons at twenty +pounds per head. Upon the work done by five +hundred prisoners in the Model Prison, in the +year 1848, (we collate these figures from the +Reports, and from Mr. Hepworth Dixon’s +useful work on the London Prisons,) there +was no profit, but an actual loss of upwards +of eight hundred pounds. The cost of instruction, +and the time occupied in instruction, +when the labour is necessarily unskilled and +unproductive, may be pleaded in explanation +<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>of this astonishing fact. We are ready +to allow all due weight to such considerations, +but we put it to our readers whether the +whole system is right or wrong; whether +the money ought or ought not rather to be +spent in instructing the unskilled and neglected +outside the prison walls. It will be +urged that it is expended in preparing the +convict for the exile to which he is doomed. +We submit to our readers, who are the jury +in this case, that all this should be done outside +the prison, first; that the first persons to +be prepared for emigration are the miserable +children who are consigned to the tender +mercies of a <span class='sc'>Drouet</span>, or who disgrace our +streets; and that in this beginning at the +wrong end, a spectacle of monstrous inconsistency +is presented, shocking to the mind. +Where is our Model House of Youthful +Industry, where is our Model Ragged School, +costing for building and repairs, from ninety +to a hundred thousand pounds, and for its +annual maintenance upwards of twenty thousand +pounds a year? Would it be a Christian +act to build that, first? To breed our skilful +labour there? To take the hewers of wood +and drawers of water in a strange country +from the convict ranks, until those men by +earnest working, zeal, and perseverance, +proved themselves, and raised themselves? +Here are two sets of people in a densely +populated land, always in the balance before +the general eye. Is Crime for ever to carry +it against Poverty, and to have a manifest +advantage? There are the scales before all +men. Whirlwinds of dust scattered in mens’ +eyes—and there is plenty flying about—cannot +blind them to the real state of the balance.</p> + +<p class='c005'>We now come to enquire into the condition +of mind produced by the seclusion (limited in +duration as Lord Grey limits it) which is purchased +at this great cost in money, and this +greater cost in stupendous injustice. That +it is a consummation much to be desired, that +a respectable man, lapsing into crime, should +expiate his offence without incurring the +liability of being afterwards recognised by +hardened offenders who were his fellow-prisoners, +we most readily admit. But, that this +object, howsoever desirable and benevolent, is +in itself sufficient to outweigh such objections +as we have set forth, we cannot for a moment +concede. Nor have we any sufficient guarantee +that even this solitary point is gained. +Under how many apparently inseparable +difficulties, men immured in solitary cells, +will by some means obtain a knowledge of +other men immured in other solitary cells, +most of us know from all the accounts and +anecdotes we have read of secret prisons and +secret prisoners from our school-time upwards. +That there is a fascination in the +desire to know something of the hidden +presence beyond the blank wall of the cell; +that the listening ear is often laid against +that wall; that there is an overpowering +temptation to respond to the muffled knock, +or any other signal which sharpened ingenuity +pondering day after day on one idea can +devise: is in that constitution of human +nature which impels mankind to communication +with one another, and makes solitude +a false condition against which nature strives. +That such communication within the Model +Prison, is not only probable, but indisputably +proved to be possible by its actual discovery, +we have no hesitation in stating as a fact. +Some pains have been taken to hush the matter, +but the truth is, that when the Prisoners +at Pentonville ceased to be selected Prisoners, +especially picked out and chosen for the +purposes of that experiment, an extensive +conspiracy was found out among them, involving, +it is needless to say, extensive communication. +Small pieces of paper with +writing upon them, had been crushed into +balls, and shot into the apertures of cell +doors, by prisoners passing along the passages; +false responses had been made during +Divine Service in the chapel, in which responses +they addressed one another; and +armed men were secretly dispersed by the +Governor in various parts of the building, to +prevent the general rising, which was anticipated +as the consequence of this plot. +Undiscovered communication, under this system, +we assume to be frequent.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The state of mind into which a man is +brought who is the lonely inhabitant of his +own small world, and who is only visited by +certain regular visitors, all addressing themselves +to him individually and personally, as +the object of their particular solicitude—we +believe in most cases to have very little +promise in it, and very little of solid foundation. +A strange absorbing selfishness—a +spiritual egotism and vanity, real or assumed—is +the first result. It is most remarkable +to observe, in the cases of murderers who +become this kind of object of interest, when +they are at last consigned to the condemned +cell, how the rule is (of course there are +exceptions,) that the murdered person disappears +from the stage of their thoughts, +except as a part of their own important +story; and how they occupy the whole scene. +<i>I</i> did this, <i>I</i> feel that, <i>I</i> confide in the mercy +of Heaven being extended to <i>me</i>; this is the +autograph of <i>me</i>, the unfortunate and unhappy; +in my childhood I was so and so; +in my youth I did such a thing, to which I +attribute my downfall—not this thing of +basely and barbarously defacing the image of +my Creator, and sending an immortal soul into +eternity without a moment’s warning, but +something else of a venial kind that many +unpunished people do. I don’t want the forgiveness +of this foully murdered person’s +bereaved wife, husband, brother, sister, child, +friend; I don’t ask for it, I don’t care for it. +I make no enquiry of the clergyman concerning +the salvation of that murdered person’s +soul; <i>mine</i> is the matter; and I am almost +happy that I came here, as to the gate of +<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>Paradise. ‘I never liked him,’ said the +repentant Mr. Manning, false of heart to the +last, calling a crowbar by a milder name, to +lessen the cowardly horror of it, ‘and I beat in +his skull with the ripping chisel.’ I am going +to bliss, exclaims the same authority, in effect. +Where my victim went to, is not my business +at all. Now, <span class='sc'>God</span> forbid that we, unworthily +believing in the Redeemer, should +shut out hope, or even humble trustfulness, +from any criminal at that dread pass; but, +it is not in us to call this state of mind +repentance.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The present question is with a state of mind +analogous to this (as we conceive) but with a +far stronger tendency to hypocrisy; the dread +of death not being present, and there being +every possible inducement, either to feign +contrition, or to set up an unreliable semblance +of it. If I, John Styles, the prisoner, +don’t do my work, and outwardly conform to +the rules of the prison, I am a mere fool. +There is nothing here to tempt me to do +anything else, and everything to tempt me to +do that. The capital dietary (and every meal +is a great event in this lonely life) depends +upon it; the alternative is a pound of bread +a day. I should be weary of myself without +occupation. I should be much more dull if I +didn’t hold these dialogues with the gentlemen +who are so anxious about me. I shouldn’t be +half the object of interest I am, if I didn’t +make the professions I do. Therefore, I John +Styles go in for what is popular here, and I +may mean it, or I may not.</p> + +<p class='c005'>There will always, under any decent system, +be certain prisoners, betrayed into crime by +a variety of circumstances, who will do well +in exile, and offend against the laws no more. +Upon this class, we think the Associated +Silent System would have quite as good an +influence as this expensive and anomalous +one; and we cannot accept them as evidence +of the efficiency of separate confinement. +Assuming John Styles to mean what he professes, +for the time being, we desire to track +the workings of his mind, and to try to test +the value of his professions. Where shall we +find an account of John Styles, proceeding +from no objector to this system, but from a +staunch supporter of it? We will take it +from a work called ‘Prison Discipline, and +the advantages of the separate system of +imprisonment,’ written by the Reverend Mr. +Field, chaplain of the new County Gaol at +Reading; pointing out to Mr. Field, in +passing, that the question is not justly, as he +would sometimes make it, a question between +this system and the profligate abuses and +customs of the old unreformed gaols, but +between it and the improved gaols of this +time, which are not constructed on his +favourite principles.<a id='r1'></a><a href='#f1' class='c007'><sup>[1]</sup></a></p> + +<div class='footnote' id='f1'> +<p class='c005'><a href='#r1'>1</a>. As Mr. Field condescends to quote some vapouring +about the account given by Mr. Charles Dickens in his +‘American Notes,’ of the Solitary Prison at Philadelphia, +he may perhaps really wish for some few words of information +on the subject. For this purpose, Mr. Charles Dickens +has referred to the entry in his Diary, made at the close of +that day.</p> + +<p class='c005'>He left his hotel for the Prison at twelve o’clock, being +waited on, by appointment, by the gentleman who showed +it to him; and he returned between seven and eight at +night; dining in the prison in the course of that time; +which, according to his calculation, in despite of the Philadelphia +Newspaper, rather exceeds two hours. He found +the Prison admirably conducted, extremely clean, and the +system administered in a most intelligent, kind, orderly, +tender, and careful manner. He did not consider (nor +should he, if he were to visit Pentonville to-morrow) that +the book in which visitors were expected to record their +observation of the place, was intended for the insertion of +criticisms on the system, but for honest testimony to the +manner of its administration; and to that, he bore, as an +impartial visitor, the highest testimony in his power. +In returning thanks for his health being drunk, at the +dinner within the walls, he said that what he had seen that +day was running in his mind; that he could not help reflecting +on it; and that it was an awful punishment. If the +American officer who rode back with him afterwards should +ever see these words, he will perhaps recall his conversation +with Mr. Dickens on the road, as to Mr. Dickens having +said so, very plainly and strongly. In reference to +the ridiculous assertion that Mr. Dickens in his book +termed a woman ‘quite beautiful’ who was a Negress, he +positively believes that he was shown no Negress in the +Prison, but one who was nursing a woman much diseased, +and to whom no reference whatever is made in his published +account. In describing three young women, ‘all convicted +at the same time of a conspiracy,’ he may, <i>possibly</i>, among +many cases, have substituted in his memory for one of them +whom he did not see, some other prisoner, confined for some +other crime, whom he did see; but he has not the least doubt +of having been guilty of the (American) enormity of detecting +beauty in a pensive quadroon or mulatto girl, or of having +seen exactly what he describes; and he remembers the +girl more particularly described in this connexion, perfectly. +Can Mr. Field really suppose that Mr. Dickens had any +interest or purpose in misrepresenting the system, or that +if he could be guilty of such unworthy conduct, or desire to do +it anything but justice, he would have volunteered the +narrative of a man’s having, of his own choice, undergone +it for two years?</p> + +<p class='c005'>We will not notice the objection of Mr. Field (who +strengthens the truth of Burns to nature, by the testimony +of Mr. Pitt!) to the discussion of such a topic as the present +in a work of ‘mere amusement;’ though, we had thought +we remembered in that book a word or two about slavery, +which, although a very amusing, can scarcely be considered +an unmitigatedly comic theme. We are quite content to +believe, without seeking to make a convert of the Reverend +Mr. Field, that no work need be one of ‘mere amusement;’ +and that some works to which he would apply that designation +have done a little good in advancing principles to +which, we hope, and will believe, for the credit of his +Christian office, he is not indifferent.</p> +</div> + +<p class='c005'>Now, here is John Styles, twenty years of +age, in prison for a felony. He has been there +five months, and he writes to his sister, ‘Don’t +fret my dear sister, about my being here. I +cannot help fretting when I think about my +usage to my father and mother: when I think +about it, it makes me quite ill. I hope God +will forgive me; I pray for it night and day +from my heart. Instead of fretting about imprisonment, +I ought to thank God for it, for +before I came here, I was living quite a careless +life; neither was God in all my thoughts; +all I thought about was ways that led me +towards destruction. Give my respects to my +wretched companions, and I hope they will +alter their wicked course, for they don’t +know for a day nor an hour but what they +may be cut off. I have seen my folly, and I +hope they may see their folly; but I shouldn’t +if I had not been in trouble. It is good for +me that I have been in trouble. Go to church, +my sister, every Sunday, and don’t give your +mind to going to playhouses and theatres, for +that is no good to you. There are a great +many temptations.’</p> + +<p class='c005'><span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>Observe! John Styles, who has committed +the felony has been ‘living quite a careless +life.’ That is his worst opinion of it, +whereas his companions who did not commit +the felony are ‘wretched companions.’ John +saw <i>his</i> ‘folly,’ and sees <i>their</i> ‘wicked course.’ +It is playhouses and theatres which many unfelonious +people go to, that prey upon John’s +mind—not felony. John is shut up in that +pulpit to lecture his companions and his +sister, about the wickedness of the unfelonious +world. Always supposing him to be sincere, +is there no exaggeration of himself in this? +Go to church where I can go, and don’t go to +theatres where I can’t! Is there any tinge of +the fox and the grapes in it? Is this the kind +of penitence that will wear outside! Put the +case that he had written, of his own mind, +‘My dear sister, I feel that I have disgraced +you and all who should be dear to me, and if +it please God that I live to be free, I will try +hard to repair that, and to be a credit to you. +My dear sister, when I committed this felony, +I stole something—and these pining five +months have not put it back—and I will +work my fingers to the bone to make restitution, +and oh! my dear sister, seek out my late +companions, and tell Tom Jones, that poor +boy, who was younger and littler than me, +that I am grieved I ever led him so wrong, +and I am suffering for it now!’ Would +that be better? Would it be more like solid +truth?</p> + +<p class='c005'>But no. This is not the pattern penitence. +There would seem to be a pattern penitence, +of a particular form, shape, limits, and dimensions, +like the cells. While Mr. Field is correcting +his proof-sheets for the press, another +letter is brought to him, and in that letter too, +that man, also a felon, speaks of his ‘past +folly,’ and lectures his mother about labouring +under ‘strong delusions of the devil.’ Does +this overweening readiness to lecture other +people, suggest the suspicion of any parrot-like +imitation of Mr. Field, who lectures him, +and any presumptuous confounding of their +relative positions?</p> + +<p class='c005'>We venture altogether to protest against +the citation, in support of this system, of +assumed repentance which has stood no test +or trial in the working world. We consider +that it proves nothing, and is worth nothing, +except as a discouraging sign of that spiritual +egotism and presumption of which we have +already spoken. It is not peculiar to the +separate system at Reading; Miss Martineau, +who was on the whole decidedly favourable to +the separate prison at Philadelphia, observed +it there. ‘The cases I became acquainted +with,’ says she, ‘were not all hopeful. Some +of the convicts were so stupid as not to be +relied upon, more or less. Others canted so +detestably, and were (always in connexion +with their cant) so certain that they should +never sin more, that I have every expectation +that they will find themselves in prison again +some day. One fellow, a sailor, notorious for +having taken more lives than probably any +man in the United States, was quite confident +that he should be perfectly virtuous henceforth. +He should never touch anything +stronger than tea, or lift his hand against +money or life. I told him I thought he could +not be sure of all this till he was within sight +of money and the smell of strong liquors; +and that he was more confident than I should +like to be. He shook his shock of red hair at +me, and glared with his one ferocious eye, +as he said he knew all about it. He had been +the worst of men, and Christ had had mercy +on his poor soul.’ (Observe again, as in the +general case we have put, that he is not at all +troubled about the souls of the people whom +he had killed.)</p> + +<p class='c005'>Let us submit to our readers another instance +from Mr. Field, of the wholesome +state of mind produced by the separate system. +‘The 25th of March, in the last year, was +the day appointed for a general fast, on account +of the threatened famine. The following +note is in my journal of that day. “During +the evening I visited many prisoners, and +found with much satisfaction that a large +proportion of them had observed the day in +a manner becoming their own situation, and +the purpose for which it had been set apart. +I think it right to record the following remarkable +proof of the effect of discipline. * * * * * They were all supplied with +their usual rations. I went first this evening +to the cells of the prisoners recently committed +for trial (Ward A. 1.), and amongst +these (upwards of twenty) I found that but +three had abstained from any portion of their +food. I then visited twenty-one convicted +prisoners who had spent some considerable +time in the gaol (Ward C. 1.), and amongst +them I found that some had altogether +abstained from food, and of the whole number +two-thirds had partially abstained.”’ We will +take it for granted that this was not because +they had more than they could eat, though +we know that with such a dietary even that +sometimes happens, especially in the case of +persons long confined. ‘The remark of one +prisoner whom I questioned concerning his +abstinence was, I believe, sincere, and was +very pleasing. “Sir, I have not felt able to eat +to-day, whilst I have thought of those poor +starving people; but I hope that I have +prayed a good deal that God will give <i>them</i> +something to eat.”’</p> + +<p class='c005'>If this were not pattern penitence, and the +thought of those poor starving people had +honestly originated with that man, and were +really on his mind, we want to know why he +was not uneasy, every day, in the contemplation +of his soup, meat, bread, potatoes, cocoa-nibs, +milk, molasses, and gruel, and its contrast +to the fare of ‘those poor starving people’ +who, in some form or other, were taxed +to pay for it?</p> + +<p class='c005'>We do not deem it necessary to comment +on the authorities quoted by Mr. Field to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>show what a fine thing the separate system +is, for the health of the body; how it never +affects the mind except for good; how it is the +true preventive of pulmonary disease; and so +on. The deduction we must draw from such +things is, that Providence was quite mistaken +in making us gregarious, and that we had +better all shut ourselves up directly. Neither +will we refer to that ‘talented criminal,’ Dr. +Dodd, whose exceedingly indifferent verses applied +to a system now extinct, in reference +to our penitentiaries for convicted prisoners. +Neither, after what we have quoted from +Lord Grey, need we refer to the likewise +quoted report of the American authorities, +who are perfectly sure that no extent of confinement +in the Philadelphia prison has ever +affected the intellectual powers of any prisoner. +Mr. Croker cogently observes, in the +Good-Natured Man, that either his hat must +be on his head, or it must be off. By a parity +of reasoning, we conclude that both Lord Grey +and the American authorities cannot possibly +be right—unless indeed the notoriously settled +habits of the American people, and the +absence of any approach to restlessness in the +national character, render them unusually +good subjects for protracted seclusion, and an +exception from the rest of mankind.</p> + +<p class='c005'>In using the term ‘pattern penitence’ we +beg it to be understood that we do not apply +it to Mr. Field, or to any other chaplain, but +to the system; which appears to us to make +these doubtful converts all alike. Although +Mr. Field has not shown any remarkable +courtesy in the instance we have set forth in +a note, it is our wish to show all courtesy to +him, and to his office, and to his sincerity in +the discharge of its duties. In our desire to +represent him with fairness and impartiality, +we will not take leave of him without the +following quotation from his book:</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Scarcely sufficient time has yet expired +since the present system was introduced, for +me to report much concerning discharged +criminals. Out of a class so degraded—the +very dregs of the community—it can be no +wonder that some, of whose improvement I +cherished the hope, should have relapsed. +Disappointed in a few cases I have been, yet +by no means discouraged, since I can with +pleasure refer to many whose conduct is +affording proof of reformation. Gratifying +indeed have been some accounts received +from liberated offenders themselves, as well +as from clergymen of parishes to which they +have returned. I have also myself visited the +homes of some of our former prisoners, and +have been cheered by the testimony given, +and the evident signs of improved character +which I have there observed. Although I do +not venture at present to describe the particular +cases of prisoners, concerning whose reformation +I feel much confidence, because, as +I have stated, the time of trial has hitherto +been short; yet I can with pleasure refer to +some public documents which prove the +happy effects of similar discipline in other +establishments.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>It should also be stated that the Reverend +Mr. Kingsmill, the chaplain of the Model +Prison at Pentonville, in his calm and intelligent +report made to the Commissioners +on the first of February, 1849, expresses his +belief ‘that the effects produced here upon +the character of prisoners, have been encouraging +in a high degree.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>But, we entreat our readers once again +to look at that Model Prison dietary (which +is essential to the system, though the +system is so very healthy of itself); to remember +the other enormous expenses of the +establishment; to consider the circumstances +of this old country, with the inevitable anomalies +and contrasts it must present; and to +decide, on temperate reflection, whether there +are any sufficient reasons for adding this monstrous +contrast to the rest. Let us impress +upon our readers that the existing question +is, not between this system and the old abuses +of the old profligate Gaols (with which, thank +Heaven, we have nothing to do), but between +this system and the associated silent system, +where the dietary is much lower, where the +annual cost of provision, management, repairs, +clothing, &c., does not exceed, on a liberal +average, £25 for each prisoner; where many +prisoners are, and every prisoner would be +(if due accommodation were provided in +some over-crowded prisons), locked up alone, +for twelve hours out of every twenty-four, +and where, while preserved from contamination, +he is still one of a society of men, and +not an isolated being, filling his whole sphere +of view with a diseased dilation of himself. We +hear that the associated silent system is objectionable, +because of the number of punishments +it involves for breaches of the prison discipline; +but how can we, in the same breath, +be told that the resolutions of prisoners for +the misty future are to be trusted, and that, +on the least temptation, they are so little to +be relied on, as to the solid present? How +can I set the pattern penitence against the +career that preceded it, when I am told that +if I put that man with other men, and lay a +solemn charge upon him not to address them +by word or sign, there are such and such great +chances that he will want the resolution to +obey?</p> + +<p class='c005'>Remember that this separate system, though +commended in the English Parliament and +spreading in England, has not spread in America, +despite of all the steeple-chase riders in the +United States. Remember that it has never +reached the State most distinguished for its +learning, for its moderation, for its remarkable +men of European reputation, for the excellence +of its public Institutions. Let it +be tried here, on a limited scale, if you will, +with fair representatives of all classes of +prisoners: let Captain Macconnochie’s system +be tried: let anything with a ray of hope in +it be tried: but, only as a part of some general +<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>system for raising up the prostrate portion of +the people of this country, and not as an exhibition +of such astonishing consideration for +crime, in comparison with want and work. +Any prison built, at a great expenditure, for +this system, is comparatively useless for any +other; and the ratepayers will do well to +think of this, before they take it for granted +that it is a proved boon to the country which +will be enduring.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Under the separate system, the prisoners +work at trades. Under the associated silent +system, the Magistrates of Middlesex have almost +abolished the treadmill. Is it no part of +the legitimate consideration of this important +point of work, to discover what kind of work +the people always filtering through the gaols +of large towns—the pickpocket, the sturdy +vagrant, the habitual drunkard, and the +begging-letter impostor—like least, and to +give them that work to do in preference to +any other? It is out of fashion with the +steeple-chase riders we know; but we would +have, for all such characters, a kind of work +in gaols, badged and degraded as belonging +to gaols only, and never done elsewhere. +And we must avow that, in a country circumstanced +as England is, with respect to +labour and labourers, we have strong doubts +of the propriety of bringing the results of +prison labour into the over-stocked market. +On this subject some public remonstrances +have recently been made by tradesmen; and +we cannot shut our eyes to the fact that they +are well-founded.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>A TALE OF THE GOOD OLD TIMES.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>An alderman of the ancient borough of +Beetlebury, and churchwarden of the parish +of St. Wulfstan’s in the said borough, Mr. +Blenkinsop might have been called, in the +language of the sixteenth century, a man of +worship. This title would probably have +pleased him very much, it being an obsolete +one, and he entertaining an extraordinary +regard for all things obsolete, or thoroughly +deserving to be so. He looked up with profound +veneration to the griffins which formed +the water-spouts of St. Wulfstan’s Church, +and he almost worshipped an old boot under +the name of a black jack, which on the affidavit +of a forsworn broker, he had bought +for a drinking vessel of the sixteenth century. +Mr. Blenkinsop even more admired the wisdom +of our ancestors than he did their furniture +and fashions. He believed that none of +their statutes and ordinances could possibly +be improved on, and in this persuasion had +petitioned Parliament against every just or +merciful change, which, since he had arrived +at man’s estate, had been made in the laws. +He had successively opposed all the Beetlebury +improvements, gas, waterworks, infant schools, +mechanics’ institute, and library. He had +been active in an agitation against any measure +for the improvement of the public health, +and, being a strong advocate of intramural +interment, was instrumental in defeating an +attempt to establish a pretty cemetery outside +Beetlebury. He had successfully resisted a +project for removing the pig-market from the +middle of the High Street. Through his influence +the shambles, which were corporation +property, had been allowed to remain where +they were; namely, close to the Town Hall, +and immediately under his own and his +brethren’s noses. In short, he had regularly, +consistently, and nobly done his best to frustrate +every scheme that was proposed for the +comfort and advantage of his fellow creatures. +For this conduct, he was highly esteemed +and respected, and, indeed, his hostility to any +interference with disease, had procured him the +honour of a public testimonial;—shortly after +the presentation of which, with several neat +speeches, the cholera broke out in Beetlebury.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The truth is, that Mr. Blenkinsop’s views +on the subject of public health and popular +institutions were supposed to be economical +(though they were, in truth, desperately +costly), and so pleased some of the ratepayers. +Besides, he withstood ameliorations, +and defended nuisances and abuses with all +the heartiness of an actual philanthropist. +Moreover, he was a jovial fellow,—a boon +companion; and his love of antiquity leant +particularly towards old ale and old port +wine. Of both of these beverages he had +been partaking rather largely at a visitation-dinner, +where, after the retirement of the +bishop and his clergy, festivities were kept up +till late, under the presidency of the deputy-registrar. +One of the last to quit the Crown +and Mitre was Mr. Blenkinsop.</p> + +<p class='c005'>He lived in a remote part of the town, +whither, as he did not walk exactly in a right +line, it may be allowable, perhaps, to say that +he bent his course. Many of the dwellers in +Beetlebury High Street, awakened at half-past +twelve on that night, by somebody passing +below, singing, not very distinctly,</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c008'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>‘With a jolly full bottle let each man be armed,’</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c009'>were indebted, little as they may have suspected +it, to Alderman Blenkinsop, for their +serenade.</p> + +<p class='c005'>In his homeward way stood the Market +Cross; a fine mediæval structure, supported +on a series of circular steps by a groined arch, +which served as a canopy to the stone figure of +an ancient burgess. This was the effigies of +Wynkyn de Vokes, once Mayor of Beetlebury, +and a great benefactor to the town; in which +he had founded almshouses and a grammar +school, <span class='fss'>A.D.</span> 1440. The post was formerly +occupied by St. Wulfstan; but De Vokes had +been removed from the Town Hall in Cromwell’s +time, and promoted to the vacant +pedestal, <i>vice</i> Wulfstan, demolished. Mr. +Blenkinsop highly revered this work of art, +and he now stopped to take a view of it by +moonlight. In that doubtful glimmer, it +seemed almost life-like. Mr. Blenkinsop had +<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>not much imagination, yet he could well nigh +fancy he was looking upon the veritable +Wynkyn, with his bonnet, beard, furred gown, +and staff, and his great book under his arm. +So vivid was this impression, that it impelled +him to apostrophise the statue.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Fine old fellow!’ said Mr. Blenkinsop. +‘Rare old buck! We shall never look upon +your like, again. Ah! the good old times—the +jolly good old times! No times like the +good old times—my ancient worthy. No such +times as the good old times!’</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘And pray, Sir, what times do you call the +good old times?’ in distinct and deliberate +accents, answered—according to the positive +affirmation of Mr. Blenkinsop, subsequently +made before divers witnesses—the Statue.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Mr. Blenkinsop is sure that he was in the +perfect possession of his senses. He is certain +that he was not the dupe of ventriloquism, or +any other illusion. The value of these convictions +must be a question between him and +the world, to whose perusal the facts of his +tale, simply as stated by himself, are here +submitted.</p> + +<p class='c005'>When first he heard the Statue speak, Mr. +Blenkinsop says, he certainly experienced a +kind of sudden shock, a momentary feeling +of consternation. But this soon abated in a +wonderful manner. The Statue’s voice was +quite mild and gentle—not in the least grim—had +no funereal twang in it, and was quite +different from the tone a statue might be +expected to take by anybody who had derived +his notions on that subject from having +heard the representative of the class in ‘Don +Giovanni.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Well; what times do you mean by the +good old times?’ repeated the Statue, quite +familiarly. The churchwarden was able to +reply with some composure, that such a question +coming from such a quarter had taken +him a little by surprise.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Come, come, Mr. Blenkinsop,’ said the +Statue, ‘don’t be astonished. ’Tis half-past +twelve, and a moonlight night, as your +favourite police, the sleepy and infirm old +watchman, says. Don’t you know that we +statues are apt to speak when spoken to, at +these hours? Collect yourself. I will help +you to answer my own question. Let us go +back step by step; and allow me to lead you. +To begin. By the good old times, do you +mean the reign of George the Third?’</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘The last of them, Sir,’ replied Mr. Blenkinsop, +very respectfully, ‘I am inclined to +think, were seen by the people who lived in +those days.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘I should hope so,’ the Statue replied. +‘Those the good old times? What! Mr. +Blenkinsop, when men were hanged by dozens, +almost weekly, for paltry thefts. When a +nursing woman was dragged to the gallows +with her child at her breast, for shop-lifting, +to the value of a shilling. When you lost +your American colonies, and plunged into +war with France, which, to say nothing of +the useless bloodshed it cost, has left you +saddled with the national debt. Surely you +will not call these the good old times, will you, +Mr. Blenkinsop?’</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Not exactly, Sir; no: on reflection I don’t +know that I can,’ answered Mr. Blenkinsop. +He had now—it was such a civil, well-spoken +statue—lost all sense of the preternatural +horror of his situation, and scratched his head +just as if he had been posed in argument by +an ordinary mortal.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Well then,’ resumed the Statue, ‘my dear +Sir, shall we take the two or three reigns preceding. +What think you of the then existing +state of prisons and prison discipline? Unfortunate +debtors confined indiscriminately +with felons, in the midst of filth, vice, and +misery unspeakable. Criminals under sentence +of death tippling in the condemned cell +with the Ordinary for their pot companion. +Flogging, a common punishment of women +convicted of larceny. What say you of the +times when London streets were absolutely +dangerous, and the passenger ran the risk of +being hustled and robbed even in the day-time? +When not only Hounslow and Bagshot Heath, +but the public roads swarmed with robbers, +and a stage-coach was as frequently plundered +as a hen-roost. When, indeed, “the road” was +esteemed the legitimate resource of a gentleman +in difficulties, and a highwayman was +commonly called “Captain”—if not respected +accordingly. When cock-fighting, bear-baiting, +and bull-baiting were popular, nay, +fashionable amusements. When the bulk of +the landed gentry could barely read and write, +and divided their time between fox-hunting +and guzzling. When a duellist was a hero, +and it was an honour to have “killed your +man.” When a gentleman could hardly open +his mouth without uttering a profane or +filthy oath. When the country was continually +in peril of civil war through a disputed +succession; and two murderous insurrections, +followed by more murderous executions, actually +took place. This era of inhumanity, +shamelessness, brigandage, brutality, and personal +and political insecurity, what say you of +it, Mr. Blenkinsop? Do you regard this wig +and pigtail period as constituting the good +old times, respected friend?’</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘There was Queen Anne’s golden reign, Sir,’ +deferentially suggested Mr. Blenkinsop.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘A golden reign!’ exclaimed the Statue. +‘A reign of favouritism and court trickery at +home, and profitless war abroad. The time +of Bolingbroke’s, and Harley’s, and Churchill’s +intrigues. The reign of Sarah, Duchess of +Marlborough and of Mrs. Masham. A golden +fiddlestick! I imagine you must go farther back +yet for your good old times, Mr. Blenkinsop.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Well,’ answered the churchwarden, ‘I suppose +I must, Sir, after what you say.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Take William the Third’s rule,’ pursued +the Statue. ‘War, war again; nothing but +war. I don’t think you’ll particularly call +these the good old times. Then what will +<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>you say to those of James the Second? Were +they the good old times when Judge Jefferies +sat on the bench? When Monmouth’s rebellion +was followed by the Bloody Assize—When +the King tried to set himself above +the law, and lost his crown in consequence—Does +your worship fancy that these were the +good old times?’</p> + +<p class='c005'>Mr. Blenkinsop admitted that he could not +very well imagine that they were.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Were Charles the Second’s the good old +times?’ demanded the Statue. ‘With a court +full of riot and debauchery—a palace much +less decent than any modern casino—whilst +Scotch Covenanters were having their legs +crushed in the “Boots,” under the auspices and +personal superintendence of His Royal Highness +the Duke of York. The time of Titus +Oates, Bedloe, and Dangerfield, and their +sham-plots, with the hangings, drawings, and +quarterings, on perjured evidence, that followed +them. When Russell and Sidney were +judicially murdered. The time of the Great +Plague and Fire of London. The public +money wasted by roguery and embezzlement, +while sailors lay starving in the streets for +want of their just pay; the Dutch about the +same time burning our ships in the Medway. +My friend, I think you will hardly call the +scandalous monarchy of the “Merry Monarch” +the good old times.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘I feel the difficulty which you suggest, Sir,’ +owned Mr. Blenkinsop.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Now, that a man of your loyalty,’ pursued +the Statue, ‘should identify the good old times +with Cromwell’s Protectorate, is of course out +of the question.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Decidedly, Sir!’ exclaimed Mr. Blenkinsop. +‘<i>He</i> shall not have a statue, though you enjoy +that honour,’ bowing.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘And yet,’ said the Statue, ‘with all its +faults, this era was perhaps no worse than any +we have discussed yet. Never mind! It was +a dreary, cant-ridden one, and if you don’t +think those England’s palmy days, neither do +I. There’s the previous reign then. During +the first part of it, there was the king endeavouring +to assert arbitrary power. During +the latter, the Parliament were fighting +against him in the open field. What ultimately +became of him I need not say. At +what stage of King Charles the First’s career +did the good old times exist, Mr. Alderman? +I need barely mention the Star Chamber and +poor Prynne; and I merely allude to the fate +of Strafford and of Laud. On consideration, +should you fix the good old times anywhere +thereabouts?’</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘I am afraid not, indeed, Sir,’ Mr. Blenkinsop +responded, tapping his forehead.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘What is your opinion of James the First’s +reign? Are you enamoured of the good old +times of the Gunpowder Plot? or when Sir +Walter Raleigh was beheaded? or when hundreds +of poor miserable old women were burnt +alive for witchcraft, and the royal wiseacre on +the throne wrote as wise a book, in defence of +the execrable superstition through which they +suffered?’</p> + +<p class='c005'>Mr. Blenkinsop confessed himself obliged +to give up the times of James the First.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Now, then,’ continued the Statue, ‘we +come to Elizabeth.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘There I’ve got you!’ interrupted Mr. +Blenkinsop, exultingly. ‘I beg your pardon, +Sir,’ he added, with a sense of the freedom he +had taken; ‘but everybody talks of the times +of Good Queen Bess, you know!’</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Ha, ha!’ laughed the Statue, not at all +like Zamiel, or Don Guzman, or a paviour’s +rammer, but really with unaffected gaiety. +‘Everybody sometimes says very foolish +things. Suppose Everybody’s lot had been +cast under Elizabeth! How would Everybody +have relished being subject to the +jurisdiction of the Ecclesiastical Commission, +with its power of imprisonment, +rack, and torture? How would Everybody +have liked to see his Roman Catholic and +Dissenting fellow-subjects, butchered, fined, +and imprisoned for their opinions; and charitable +ladies butchered, too, for giving them +shelter in the sweet compassion of their hearts? +What would Everybody have thought of the +murder of Mary Queen of Scots? Would +Everybody, would Anybody, would <i>you</i>, +wish to have lived in these days, whose +emblems are cropped ears, pillory, stocks, +thumb-screws, gibbet, axe, chopping-block, +and Scavenger’s daughter? Will you take +your stand upon this stage of History for +the good old times, Mr. Blenkinsop?’</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘I should rather prefer firmer and safer +ground, to be sure, upon the whole,’ answered +the worshipper of antiquity, dubiously.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Well, now,’ said the Statue, ‘’tis getting +late, and, unaccustomed as I am to conversational +speaking, I must be brief. Were those +the good old times when Sanguinary Mary +roasted bishops, and lighted the fires of Smithfield? +When Henry the Eighth, the British +Bluebeard, cut his wives’ heads off, and +burnt Catholic and Protestant at the same +stake? When Richard the Third smothered +his nephews in the Tower? When the Wars +of the Roses deluged the land with blood? +When Jack Cade marched upon London? +When we were disgracefully driven out of +France under Henry the Sixth, or, as disgracefully, +went marauding there, under +Henry the Fifth? Were the good old times +those of Northumberland’s rebellion? Of +Richard the Second’s assassination? Of the +battles, burnings, massacres, cruel tormentings, +and atrocities, which form the sum of +the Plantagenet reigns? Of John’s declaring +himself the Pope’s vassal, and performing +dental operations on the Jews? Of the Forest +Laws and Curfew under the Norman kings? +At what point of this series of bloody and +cruel annals will you place the times which +you praise? Or do your good old times +extend over all that period when somebody +or other was constantly committing high +<span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>treason, and there was a perpetual exhibition +of heads on London Bridge and Temple Bar?’</p> + +<p class='c005'>It was allowed by Mr. Blenkinsop that +either alternative presented considerable +difficulty.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Was it in the good old times that Harold +fell at Hastings, and William the Conqueror +enslaved England? Were those blissful years +the ages of monkery; of Odo and Dunstan, +bearding monarchs and branding queens? Of +Danish ravage and slaughter? Or were they +those of the Saxon Heptarchy, and the +worship of Thor and Odin? Of the advent +of Hengist and Horsa? Of British subjugation +by the Romans? Or, lastly, must we go +back to the Ancient Britons, Druidism, and +human sacrifices; and say that those were +the real, unadulterated, genuine, good old +times when the true-blue natives of this +island went naked, painted with woad?’</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Upon my word, Sir,’ said Mr. Blenkinsop, +‘after the observations that I have heard from +you this night, I acknowledge that I <i>do</i> feel +myself rather at a loss to assign a precise +period to the times in question.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Shall I do it for you?’ asked the Statue.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘If you please, Sir. I should be very much +obliged if you would,’ replied the bewildered +Blenkinsop, greatly relieved.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘The best times, Mr. Blenkinsop,’ said the +Statue, ‘are the oldest. They are the wisest; +for the older the world grows the more experience +it acquires. It is older now than ever +it was. The oldest and best times the world +has yet seen are the present. These, so far as +we have yet gone, are the genuine good old +times, Sir.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Indeed, Sir?’ ejaculated the astonished +Alderman.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Yes, my good friend. These are the best +times that we know of—bad as the best may +be. But in proportion to their defects, they +afford room for amendment. Mind that, Sir, +in the future exercise of your municipal and +political wisdom. Don’t continue to stand in +the light which is gradually illuminating +human darkness. The Future is the date of +that happy period which your imagination +has fixed in the Past. It will arrive when all +shall do what is right; hence none shall suffer +what is wrong. The true good old times are +yet to come.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Have you any idea when, Sir?’ Mr. Blenkinsop +inquired, modestly.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘That is a little beyond me,’ the Statue +answered. ‘I cannot say how long it will +take to convert the Blenkinsops. I devoutly +wish you may live to see them. And +with that, I wish you good night, Mr. Blenkinsop.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Sir,’ returned Mr. Blenkinsop with a profound +bow, ‘I have the honour to wish you +the same.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>Mr. Blenkinsop returned home an altered +man. This was soon manifest. In a few days +he astonished the Corporation by proposing +the appointment of an Officer of Health to +preside over the sanitary affairs of Beetlebury. +It had already transpired that he had consented +to the introduction of lucifer-matches +into his domestic establishment, in which, +previously, he had insisted on sticking to the +old tinder-box. Next, to the wonder of all +Beetlebury, he was the first to propose a great +new school, and to sign a requisition that a +county penitentiary might be established for +the reformation of juvenile offenders. The +last account of him is that he has not only become +a subscriber to the mechanics’ institute, +but that he actually presided thereat, lately, +on the occasion of a lecture on Geology.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The remarkable change which has occurred +in Mr. Blenkinsop’s views and principles, he +himself refers to his conversation with the +Statue, as above related. That narrative, +however, his fellow townsmen receive with +incredulous expressions, accompanied by gestures +and grimaces of like import. They hint, +that Mr. Blenkinsop had been thinking for +himself a little, and only wanted a plausible +excuse for recanting his errors. Most of his +fellow aldermen believe him mad; not less on +account of his new moral and political sentiments, +so very different from their own, than +of his Statue story. When it has been suggested +to them that he has only had his spectacles +cleaned, and has been looking about him, +they shake their heads, and say that he had +better have left his spectacles alone, and that +a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, and +a good deal of dirt quite the contrary. <i>Their</i> +spectacles have never been cleaned, they say, +and any one may see they don’t want cleaning.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The truth seems to be, that Mr. Blenkinsop +has found an altogether new pair of spectacles, +which enable him to see in the right direction. +Formerly, he could only look backwards; +he now looks forwards to the grand +object that all human eyes should have in +view—progressive improvement.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>BAPTISMAL RITUALS.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>The subject of baptism having recently +been pressed prominently upon public attention, +it has been thought that a few curious +particulars relating exclusively to the rite as +anciently performed would be interesting.</p> + +<p class='c005'>In the earliest days of the Christian Church +those who were admitted into it by baptism +were necessarily not infants but adolescent or +adult converts. These previously underwent +a course of religious instruction, generally for +two years. They were called during their +pupilage, ‘catechumens,’<a id='r2'></a><a href='#f2' class='c007'><sup>[2]</sup></a> a name afterwards +transferred to all infants before baptism. +When such candidates were judged worthy +to be received within the pale of the Church, +their names were inscribed at the beginning +of Lent, on a list of the competent or +‘illuminated.’ On Easter or Pentecost eve they +were baptised, by three solemn immersions, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>the first of the right side, the second of the +left, and the third of the face. They were +confirmed at the same time, often, in addition, +receiving the sacrament. Sprinkling was +only resorted to in cases of the sick and bedridden, +who were called <i>clinics</i>,<a id='r3'></a><a href='#f3' class='c007'><sup>[3]</sup></a> because they +received the rite in bed. Baptism was at that +early period accompanied by certain symbolical +ceremonies long since disused. For example, +milk and honey were given to the +new Christian to mark his entrance into +the land of promise, and as a sign of his +spiritual infancy in being ‘born again;’ for +milk and honey were the food of children +when weaned. The three immersions were +made in honour of the three persons of the +Trinity; but the Arians having found in +that ceremony an argument favouring the +notion of distinction and plurality of natures +in the Deity, Pope Gregory by a letter addressed +to St. Leander of Seville, ordained that +in Spain, the then stronghold of Arianism, +only one immersion should be practised. +This prescription was preserved and applied +to the Church universal by the 6th canon of +the Council of Toledo in 633. The triple +immersion was, however, persisted in in Ireland +to the 12th century. Infants were +thus baptised by their fathers, or indeed by +any other person at hand, either in water or +in milk; but the custom was abolished in +1172 by the Council of Cashel.</p> + +<div class='footnote' id='f2'> +<p class='c005'><a href='#r2'>2</a>. From the participle of a Greek verb, expressing the act +of receiving rudimentary instruction.</p> +</div> + +<div class='footnote' id='f3'> +<p class='c005'><a href='#r3'>3</a>. From a Greek word signifying a bed, whence we derive +the word <i>clinical</i>.</p> +</div> + +<p class='c005'>The African churches obliged those who +were to be baptised on Easter eve to bathe on +Good Friday, ‘in order,’ says P. Richard, in +his <cite>Analyse des Conciles</cite>, ‘to rid themselves of +the impurities contracted during the observance +of Lent before presenting themselves at +the sacred font.’ The bishops and priesthood +of some of the Western churches, as at Milan, +in Spain, and in Wales, washed the feet of +the newly baptised, in imitation of the +humiliation of the Redeemer. This was +forbidden in 303 by the 48th canon of the +Council of Elvira.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The Baptistery of the early church was one +of the <i>exedræ</i>, or out-buildings, and consisted +of a porch or ante-room, where adult converts +made their confession of faith, and an inner +room, where the actual baptism took place. +Thus it continued till the sixth century, when +baptisteries began to be taken into the church +itself. The font was always of wood or +stone. Indeed, we find the provincial council +held in Scotland, in 1225, prescribing those +materials as the only ones to be used. The +Church in all ages discouraged private +baptism. By the 55th canon of the same +Council, the water which had been used to +baptise a child out of church was to be thrown +into the fire, or carried immediately to the +parish baptistery, that it might be employed +for no other purpose; in like manner, the +vessel which, had held it was to be either +burnt or consecrated for church use. For +many centuries superstitious virtues were +attributed to water which had been used for +baptism. The blind bathed their eyes in it in +the hope of obtaining their sight. It was +said to ‘drown the devil,’ and to purify those +who had recourse to it.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Baptism was by the early Church strictly +forbidden during Lent. The Council of +Toledo, held in 694, ordered by its 2nd canon, +that, from the commencement of the fast to +Good Friday, every baptistery should be +closed, and sealed up with the seal of the +bishop. The Council held at Reading, Berkshire, +in 1279, prescribed that infants born +the week previous to each Easter and Pentecost, +should be baptised only at those festivals. +There is no restriction of this kind +preserved by the Reformed Church; but we +are admonished in the rubric that the most +acceptable place and time for the ceremony is +in church, no later than the first or second +Sunday after birth. Sundays or holidays +are suggested, because ‘the most number of +people come together,’ to be edified thereby, +and be witnesses of the admission of the +child into the Church. Private baptism is +objected to, except when need shall compel.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The practice of administering the Eucharist +to the adult converts to Christianity after +baptism, was in many churches improperly, +during the fourth century, extended to infants. +The priest dipped his fore-finger into the wine, +and put it to the lips of the child to suck. +This abuse of the Holy Sacrament did not survive +the twelfth century. It was repeatedly +forbidden by various Councils of the Church, +and at length fell into desuetude.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Christening fees originated at a very early +date. At first, bishops and those who had +aided in the ceremony of baptism were entertained +at a feast. This was afterwards +commuted to an actual payment of money. +Both were afterwards forbidden. The 48th +canon of the Council of Elvira, held in +303, prohibits the leaving of money in the +fonts, ‘that the ministers of the Church may +not appear to sell that which it is their duty +to give gratuitously.’ This rule was, however, +as little observed in the Middle Ages as +it has been since. Strype says, that in 1560 +it was enjoined by the heads of the Church +that, ‘to avoid contention, let the curate have +the value of the “Chrisome,” not under 4<i>d.</i>, +and above as they can agree, and as the state +of the parents may require.’ The Chrisome +was the white cloth placed by the minister +upon the head of a child, which had been +newly anointed with chrism, or hallowed +ointment composed of oil and balm, always +used after baptism. The gift of this cloth +was usually made by the mother at the time +of Churching. To show how enduring such +customs are, even after the occasion for them +has passed away, we need only quote a passage +from Morant’s ‘Essex.’ ‘In Denton Church +there has been a custom, time out of mind, at +the churching of a woman, for her to give a +<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>white cambric handkerchief to the minister as +an offering.’ The same custom is kept up in +Kent, as may be seen in Lewis’s History of +the Isle of Thanet.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The number of sponsors for each child was +prescribed by the 4th Canon of the Council of +York, in 1196, to be <i>no more</i> than three persons;—two +males and one female for a boy, +and two females and one male for a girl;—a +rule which is still preserved. A custom sprung +up afterwards, which reversed the old state of +things. By little and little, large presents +were looked for from sponsors, not only to +the child but to its mother; the result was +that there grew to be a great difficulty in procuring +persons to undertake so expensive an +office. Indeed, it sometimes happened that +fraudulent parents had a child baptised thrice, +for the sake of the godfather’s gifts. To +remedy these evils, a Council held at l’Isle, in +Provence, in 1288, ordered that thenceforth +nothing was to be given to the baptised but a +white robe. This prescription appears to +have been kept for ages; Stow, in his +Chronicle of King James’s Reign, says, ‘At +this time, and for many ages, it was not the +use and custom (as now it is) for godfathers +and godmothers to give plate at the baptism +of children, but only to give <i>christening shirts</i>, +with little bands and cuffs, wrought either +with silk or blue thread, the best of them +edged with a small lace of silk and gold.’ +Cups and spoons have, however, stood their +ground as favourite presents to babies on such +occasions, ever since. ‘Apostle spoons’—so +called because a figure of one of the apostles +was chased on the handle of each—were +anciently given: opulent sponsors presenting +the whole twelve. Those in middling circumstances +gave four, and the poorer sort contented +themselves with the gift of one, exhibiting +the figure of any saint, in honour of +whom the child received its name. Thus, in +the books of the Stationers’ Company, we find +under 1560, ‘a spoone the gift of Master Reginald +Woolf, all gilte, with the picture of +St. John.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>Shakspeare, in his Henry VIII., makes +the king say, when Cranmer professes himself +unworthy to be sponsor to the young +princess:—</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c008'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>‘Come, come, my lord, you’d spare your spoons.’</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c005'>Again, in Davenant’s Comedy of ‘The +Wits,’ (1639):</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c008'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>‘My pendants, cascanets, and rings;</div> + <div class='line'>My christ’ning caudle-cup and spoons,</div> + <div class='line'>Are dissolved into that lump.’</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c005'>The coral and bells is an old invention for +baptismal presents. Coral was anciently considered +an amulet against fascination and +evil spirits.</p> + +<p class='c005'>It is to be regretted that, at the present +time, the grave responsibilities of the sponsors +of children is too often considered to end with +the presentation of some such gifts as we +have enumerated. It is not to our praise that +the ties between sponsors and god-children, +were much closer, and held more sacredly in +times which we are pleased to call barbarous. +God-children were placed not only in a state +of pupilage with their sureties, but also in the +position of relations. A sort of relationship +was established even between the Godfathers +and Godmothers; insomuch, that marriage +between any such parties was forbidden +under pain of severe punishment. This +injunction, like many others, had it appears +been sufficiently disobeyed to warrant a special +canon (12th) of the Council of Compiègne, +held so early as 757, which enforced the separation +of all those sponsors and God-children +of both sexes who had intermarried, and the +Church refused the rites of marriage to the +women so separated. A century after (815) +the Council of Mayence not only reinforced +these restrictions and penalties, but added +others.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>ARCTIC HEROES.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div>A FRAGMENT OF NAVAL HISTORY.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c010'><span class='sc'>Scene</span>, <i>a stupendous region of icebergs and snow. The bare +mast of a half-buried ship stands among the rifts and +ridges. The figures of two men, covered closely with furs and +skins, slowly emerge from beneath the winter-housing of the +deck, and descend upon the snow by an upper ladder, and +steps cut below in the frozen wall of snow. They advance.</i></p> + +<p class='c011'><i>1st Man.</i> We are out of hearing now. Give thy heart words.</p> + +<p class='c012'>[<i>They walk on in silence some steps further, and then pause.</i></p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><i>2nd Man.</i> Here ‘midst the sea’s unfathomable ice,</div> + <div class='line'>Life-piercing cold, and the remorseless night</div> + <div class='line'>Which never ends, nor changes its dead face,</div> + <div class='line'>Save in the ’ghast smile of the hopeless moon,</div> + <div class='line'>Must slowly close our sum of wasted hours;</div> + <div class='line'>And with them all the enterprising dreams,</div> + <div class='line'>Efforts, endurance, and resolve, which make</div> + <div class='line'>The power and glory of us Englishmen.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><i>1st Man.</i> It <i>may</i> be so.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><i>2nd Man.</i> Oh, doubt not but it must.</div> + <div class='line'>Day after day, week crawling after week,</div> + <div class='line'>So slowly that they scarcely seem to move,</div> + <div class='line'>Nor we to know it, till our calendar</div> + <div class='line'>Shows us that months have lapsed away, and left</div> + <div class='line'>Our drifting time, while here our bodies lie</div> + <div class='line'>Like melancholy blots upon the snow.</div> + <div class='line'>Thus have we lived, and gradually seen,</div> + <div class='line'>By calculations which appear to mock</div> + <div class='line'>Our hearts with their false figures, that ’tis now</div> + <div class='line'>Three years since we were cut off from the world</div> + <div class='line'>By these impregnable walls of solid ocean!</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><i>1st Man.</i> All this is true: the physical elements</div> + <div class='line'>We thought to conquer, are too strong for man.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><i>2nd Man.</i> We have felt the crush of battle side by side;</div> + <div class='line'>Seen our best friends, with victory in their eyes,</div> + <div class='line'>Suddenly smitten down, a mangled heap,</div> + <div class='line'>And thought our own turn might be next; yet never</div> + <div class='line'>Drooped we in spirit, or such horror felt</div> + <div class='line'>As in the voiceless tortures of this place,</div> + <div class='line'>Which freezes up the mind.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><i>1st Man.</i> Not yet.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><i>2nd Man.</i> I feel it.</div> + <div class='line'>Death, flying red-eyed from the cannon’s mouth,</div> + <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>Were child’s play to confront, compared with this.</div> + <div class='line'>Inch by inch famine in the silent frost—</div> + <div class='line'>The cold anatomies of our dear friends,</div> + <div class='line'>One by one carried in their rigid sheets</div> + <div class='line'>To lay beneath the snow—till he that’s last,</div> + <div class='line'>Creeps to the lonely horror of his berth</div> + <div class='line'>Within the vacant ship, and while the bears</div> + <div class='line'>Grope round and round, thinks of his distant home—</div> + <div class='line'>Those dearest to him—glancing rapidly</div> + <div class='line'>Through his past life—then with a wailful sigh</div> + <div class='line'>And a brief prayer, his soul becomes a blank.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><i>1st Man.</i> This is despair—I’ll hear no more of it.</div> + <div class='line'>We have provisions still.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><i>2nd Man.</i> And for how long?</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><i>1st Man.</i> A flock of wild birds may pass over us,</div> + <div class='line'>And some our shots may reach.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><i>2nd Man.</i> And by this chance</div> + <div class='line'>Find food for one day more.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><i>1st Man.</i> Yes, and thank God;</div> + <div class='line'>For the next day may preservation come,</div> + <div class='line'>And rescue from old England.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><i>2nd Man.</i> All our fuel</div> + <div class='line'>Is nearly gone; and as the last log burns</div> + <div class='line'>And falls in ashes, so may we foresee</div> + <div class='line'>The frozen circle sitting round.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><i>1st Man.</i> Nay, nay—</div> + <div class='line'>Our boats, loose spars, our masts, and half our decks</div> + <div class='line'>Must serve us ere that pass. But, if indeed</div> + <div class='line'>Nothing avail, and no help penetrate</div> + <div class='line'>To this remote place, inaccessible</div> + <div class='line'>Perchance for years, except to some wild bird—</div> + <div class='line'>We came here knowing all this might befal,</div> + <div class='line'>And set our lives at stake. God’s will be done.</div> + <div class='line'>I, too, have felt the horrors of our fate:</div> + <div class='line'>Jammed in a moving field of solid ice,</div> + <div class='line'>Borne onward day and night we knew not where,</div> + <div class='line'>Till the loud cracking sounds reverberating</div> + <div class='line'>Far distant, were soon followed by the rending</div> + <div class='line'>Of the vast pack, whose heaving blocks and wedges,</div> + <div class='line'>Like crags broke loose, all rose to our destruction</div> + <div class='line'>As by some ghastly instinct. Then the hand</div> + <div class='line'>Of winter smote the all-congealing air,</div> + <div class='line'>And with its freezing tempest piled on high</div> + <div class='line'>These massy fragments which environ us:—</div> + <div class='line'>Cathedrals many-spired, by lightning riven—</div> + <div class='line'>Sharp-angled chaos-heaps of palaced cities,</div> + <div class='line'>With splintered pyramids, and broken towers</div> + <div class='line'>That yawn for ever at the bursting moon</div> + <div class='line'>And her four pallid flame-spouts. Now, appalled</div> + <div class='line'>By the long roar o’ the cloud-like avalanche—</div> + <div class='line'>Now, by the stealthy creeping of the glaciers</div> + <div class='line'>In silence tow’rds our frozen ships. So Death</div> + <div class='line'>Hath often whispered to me in the night;</div> + <div class='line'>And I have seen him in the Aurora-gleam</div> + <div class='line'>Smile as I rose and came upon the deck;</div> + <div class='line'>Or when the icicle’s prismatic glance—</div> + <div class='line'>Bright, flashing,—and then, colourless, unmoved ice—</div> + <div class='line'>Emblem’d our passing life, and its cold end.</div> + <div class='line'>Oh, friend in many perils, fail not now!</div> + <div class='line'>Am I not, e’en as thou art, utterly sick</div> + <div class='line'>Of my own heavy heart, and loading clothes?—</div> + <div class='line'>A mind—that in its firmest hour hath fits</div> + <div class='line'>Of madness for some change, that shoot across</div> + <div class='line'>Its steadfastness, and scarce are trampled down.</div> + <div class='line'>Yet, friend, I will not let my spirit sink,</div> + <div class='line'>Nor shall mine eyes, e’en with snow-blindness veiled,</div> + <div class='line'>Man’s great prerogative of inward sight</div> + <div class='line'>Forego, nor cease therein to speculate</div> + <div class='line'>On England’s feeling for her countrymen;</div> + <div class='line'>Whereof relief will some day surely come.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><i>2nd Man.</i> I well believe it; but perhaps too late.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'><i>1st Man.</i> Then, if too late, one noble task remains,</div> + <div class='line'>And one consoling thought. We, to the last,</div> + <div class='line'>With firmness, order, and considerate care,</div> + <div class='line'>Will act as though our death-beds were at home,</div> + <div class='line'>Grey heads with honour sinking to the tomb;</div> + <div class='line'>So future times shall record bear that we,</div> + <div class='line'>Imprisoned in these frozen horrors, held</div> + <div class='line'>Our sense of duty, both to man and God.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in4'><i>The muffled beat of the ship’s bell sounds for evening prayers.</i></div> + <div class='line in4'><i>The two men return: they ascend the steps in the snow—then the ladder—and disappear beneath the snow-covered housing of the deck.</i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>A CORONER’S INQUEST.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c011'>If there appeared a paragraph in the +newspapers, stating that her Majesty’s representative, +the Lord Chief Justice of the +Queen’s Bench, had held a solemn Court in the +parlour of the ‘Elephant and Tooth-pick,’ the +reader would rightly conceive that the Crown +and dignity of our Sovereign Lady had suffered +some derogation. Yet an equal abasement +daily takes place without exciting especial +wonder. The subordinates of the Lord Chief +Justice of the Queen’s Bench (who is, by an +old law, the Premier Coroner of all England) +habitually preside at houses of public entertainment; +yet they are no less delegates of Royalty—as +the name of their office implies<a id='r4'></a><a href='#f4' class='c007'><sup>[4]</sup></a>—than +the ermined dignitary himself, when surrounded +with all the pomp and circumstance +of the law’s majesty at Westminster. This +is quite characteristic of our thoroughly commercial +nation. An action about a money-debt +is tried in an imposing manner in a spacious +edifice, and with only too great an excess of +formality; but for an inquest into the sacrifice +of a mere human life, ‘the worst inn’s +worst room’ is deemed good enough. In +order rightly to determine whether Jones +owes Smith five pounds ten, the Goddess of +Justice is surrounded with the most imposing +insignia, and worshipped in an appropriate +temple: but when she is invoked to decide +why a human spirit,</p> + +<div class='footnote' id='f4'> +<p class='c014'><span class='label'><a href='#r4'>4</a>.  </span>It is derived from <i>a coronâ</i> (from the crown), because +the coroner, says Coke, “hath conusance in some pleas +which are called <i>placita coronæ</i>.”</p> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>‘Unhousel’d, disappointed, unanel’d,</div> + <div class='line'>No reckoning made, is sent to its account</div> + <div class='line'>With all its imperfections on its head;’</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c015'>she is thrust into the ‘Hole in the Wall,’ +the ‘Bag o’ Nails,’ or the parlour of the +‘Two Spies.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>Desirous of having aural and ocular demonstration +of the curious manner in which +the office of Coroner is now fulfilled, we were +attracted, a few weeks since, to the Old Drury +Tavern, in Vinegar Yard, Drury Lane. Having +made our way to a small parlour, we perceived +the Majesty of England, as personated +<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>on this occasion, enveloped in an ordinary +surtout, sitting at the head of a table, and +surrounded by a knot of good-humoured +faces, who might, if judged from mere appearances, +have rallied round their president +for some social purpose—only that the cigars +and spirits and water had not yet come in. +There was nothing official to be seen but a few +pens, a sheet or two of paper, an inkstand, +and a parish beadle.</p> + +<p class='c014'>When we entered, the Coroner was holding +a friendly conversation with some of the jury, +the beadle, and the gentlemen of the press, +respecting the inferiority of the accommodation; +and, considering the number of persons +present, and the accessions expected from +more jurymen, parochial officers, and witnesses, +the subject was suggested naturally +enough: for the private apartment of the +landlord was of exceedingly moderate dimensions; +and that had been appropriated as the +temporary Court.</p> + +<p class='c014'>Here then, to a back parlour of the Old +Drury Tavern, Vinegar Yard, Drury Lane, +London, the Queen’s representative was consigned—by +no fault of his own, but from that +of a system of which he is rather a victim +than a promoter—to institute one of the +most important inquiries which the law of +England prescribes. A human being had been +prematurely sent into eternity, and the +coroner was called upon—amidst several +implements of conviviality, the odour of gin +and the smell of tobacco-smoke—‘to inquire +in this manner: that is, to wit, if they [the +witnesses] know where the person was slain, +whether it were in any house, field, bed, +tavern, or company, and who were there; who +are culpable, either of the act, or of the +force; and who were present, either men or +women, and of what age soever they be, if +they can speak or have any discretion; and +how many soever be found culpable they shall +be taken and delivered to the sheriff, and +shall be committed to the gaol.’ So runs the +clause of the act of parliament, still in force by +which the coroner and jury were now assembled. +It is the second statute of the fourth year +of Edward I., and is the identical law which +is discussed by the grave-diggers in Hamlet.</p> + +<p class='c014'>The pleasant colloquy about the size of the +room ended in a resolution to adjourn the +Court to the ‘Two Spies,’ in a neighbouring +alley. Time appeared, throughout the proceedings, +to be as valuable as space, and the +rest of the jurors having dropped in, the +coroner—with a bible supplied from the bar,—at +once delivered the oath to the foreman. +The other jurors were rapidly sworn in +batches, upon the Old Drury Bible, under an +abridged dispensation administered, if our +memory be correct, by the beadle.</p> + +<p class='c014'>‘Now, then, gentlemen,’ said the coroner, +‘we’ll view the body.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>Not without alacrity the entire company +left their confined quarters to breathe such +air as is vouchsafed in Vinegar Yard. The +subject of inquiry lay at a baker’s shop, ‘a +few doors round the corner,’—to use the topographical +formula of the parish functionary—and +thither he ushered us. A few of the +window shutters of the shop were up, but in +all other respects there was as little to indicate +a house of death as there was to show it to be +a house of mourning. If the journeyman had +not been standing at the end of the counter in +his holiday coat, it would have seemed as if +business was going on as usual. There was +the same tempting display of tarts, the same +heaps of biscuits, the same supply of loaves, +the same ranges of flour in paper bags as is +to be observed in ordinary bakers’ shops on +ordinary occasions. Yet the mistress of this +particular baker’s shop lay dead only a few +paces within, and its master was in gaol on +suspicion of having murdered her.</p> + +<p class='c014'>Through a parlour and a sort of passage +with a bed and a sink in it,the jury were shown +into a confined kitchen. Here, on a mahogany +dining-table, lay the remains covered with a +dirty sheet. To describe the spectacle which +presented itself when the beadle, with business-like +immobility turned down the covering, +does not happily fall within our present +object. It is, however, necessary to say that +it presented evidences of continued ill-usage +from blows and kicks, not to be beheld without +strong indignation. Yet this was not all.</p> + +<p class='c014'>‘The cause of death,’ said the beadle—<i>his</i> +mind was quite made up—‘is on the back; +it’s covered with bruises: but I suppose you +won’t want to see that, gentlemen.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>By no means. Everybody had seen enough; +for they were surrounded by whatever could +increase distress and engender disgust. The +apartment was so small, that the table left +only room for the jurors to edge round it one +by one; and it was hardly possible to do this, +without actual contact with the head or feet +of the corpse. A gridiron and other black +utensils were hanging against the wall, and +could only be escaped by the exercise on the +part of the spectators of great ingenuity of +motion. This and the bed-place (bed-<i>room</i> is no +word for it) indicated squalid poverty; but the +scene was changed in the parlour. There, appearances +were at least kept up. It was filled +with decent furniture—even elegancies; including +a pianoforte and a couple of portraits.</p> + +<p class='c014'>These strange evidences of refinement only +brought out the squalor, smallness, and unfitness +for any part of a judicial inquiry of +the inner apartments, into more glaring relief. +Surely so important a function as that of a +coroner and his jury should not be conducted +amidst such a scene! Besides other obvious +objections, the danger of keeping corpses +in confined apartments, and in close neighbourhoods, +was here strongly exemplified. +The smell was so ‘close’ and insanitary, that +the first man who entered the den where the +body lay, caused the window to be opened. +Two children, the offspring of the victim and +the accused, lived in these apartments; and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>above stairs the house was crowded with +lodgers, to all of whom any sort of infection +would have proved the more disastrous from +living next door, as it were, to Death. It is +terrible to reflect that every decease happening +among the myriads of the population a little +lower in circumstances than this baker, deals +around it its proportion of destruction to +the living, from the same causes. True, +that had it been impossible to retain the +body where death occurred—as chances when +several persons live in the same room—it +would have been removed. But where.—The +coroner and jury would have had to view it +in the tap-room of a public-house.</p> + +<p class='c014'>There is another objection—all-powerful in +the eyes of a lawyer. He recognises as a +first necessity that the jurors should have no +opportunity of communicating with witnesses, +except when before the Court. But here the +melancholy honours of the baker’s shop and +parlour were performed by the two persons +from whose evidence the cause of death was +to be chiefly elicited;—the journeyman and a +female relative of the deceased, who were in +the house when the last blows were dealt, +and when the woman died. They received +the fifteen jurymen who were presently to +judge of their testimony; and there was +nothing but the strong sense of propriety +which actuated these gentlemen on the present +occasion, to prevent the witnesses from +telling their own story privately in their +own way, to any one or half dozen of the +inquest, and thus to give a premature bent +to opinions, the materials for forming which, +ought to be strictly reserved for the public +Court. Many examples can be supplied in +illustration of this evil. We select one:—Some +years ago, an old woman in the most +wretched part of Westminster, was found +dead in her bed—strangled. When the +Coroner and jury went to view the body, they +were ushered by a young female—a relative—who +lived with the deceased. She explained +there and then all about the death. +When the Court re-assembled, she was—chiefly, +it was understood, in consequence of +what had previously passed—examined as +first and principal witness, and upon her evidence, +the verdict arrived at, was ‘Temporary +insanity.’ The case, however, subsequently +passed through more formal judicial ordeals, +and the result was, that the coroner’s prime +witness was hanged for the <i>murder</i> of the +old woman. We must have it distinctly +understood that not the faintest shade of +parallel exists between the two cases. We +bring them together solely to illustrate the +evils of a system.</p> + +<p class='c014'>On passing into the baker’s parlour, dumb +witnesses presented themselves, which—properly +or improperly—must have had their +effect on the promoters of the inquiry. The +piano indicated hours formerly spent, and +thoughts once indulged, which, when imagined +by minds fresh from the appalling reality in +the squalid kitchen, must have excited new +throes of indignation and pity. One portrait +was that of the bruised and crushed corpse +when living and young. Then she must have +been comely; now no feature could be recognised +as ever having been human. Then, she +was cleanly and neatly dressed, and, if the +pictured smile might be trusted, happy; now, +she lay amidst dirt, the victim of long, long ill-usage +and lingering misery, ended in premature +death. The other, was a likeness of +her husband. Had words of love ever passed +between the originals of those painted effigies? +Had they ever courted? It seemed that one +of the jurors was inwardly asking some such +question while gazing at the portraits, for he +was visibly affected.</p> + +<p class='c014'>We all at length made our way to the +‘Two Spies’ in Whitehart Yard, Brydges +Street. The accommodation afforded was a +little more spacious than those of the Old +Drury; but the delegated Majesty of the +Crown had no dignity imparted to it from +the coroner’s figure being brought out in +relief by a clothes-horse and table cloth +which were, during the inquiry, placed behind +him to serve as a fire-screen. Neither did +the case of stuffed birds, the sampler of +Moses in the bulrushes, the picture of the +licensed victuallers’ school, or the portraits of +the rubicund host and of his ‘good lady,’ +tend to impress the minds of jury, witnesses, +or spectators, with that awe for the supremacy +of the Law which a court of justice is expected +to inspire.</p> + +<p class='c014'>The circumstances as detailed by the witnesses +are already familiar to the readers of +newspapers; but from the insecutive manner +in which the evidence was produced, it is +difficult to frame a coherent narrative. It all +tended to prove that the husband had for +several years exercised great harshness towards +his wife. That boxing her ears and +kicking her were among his ‘habits.’ On +the Friday previous to her decease, the +journeyman had been, as usual, ‘bolted +down’ in the bake-house for the night, +(such, he said, being the custom in the trade) +and from eleven o’clock till three in the morning +he heard a great noise overhead as of two +persons quarrelling, and of one person dragging +the other across the room. There were +cries of distress from the deceased woman. +Another witness—a second cousin of the wife—called +on Saturday afternoon. She found +the wife in a pitiable state from ill-usage +and want of rest. Her left ear and all that +part of the head was much bruised. There +were cuts, and the hair was matted with congealed +blood. The husband was told how +much she was injured, but he did not appear +to take any notice of it. A trait of the dread +in which the woman lived of the man was here +mentioned; she asked the witness to ask her +husband to allow her to lie down. She dared +not prefer so reasonable a request herself; +although she had been up all the previous +<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>night being beaten. He refused. The cousin +sat down to dinner with the wretched pair; +only for the purpose of being between them to +prevent further violence, for she had dined. +She remained until half-past three o’clock, and +during that interval the husband frequently +boxed his wife’s ears as hard as he could; +and once kicked her with great force. Her +usual remonstrance was, ‘Man alive, don’t +touch me.’ The visitor returned in the evening, +and she, with the journeyman, saw another +brutal attack, some minutes after which the +victim fell as if in a fit. She was assisted into +an inner room, sank down and never rose +again. She lay till the following Sunday +morning in a state of insensibility, and no +attempt had been made to procure surgical +assistance. A practitioner at last was summoned, +gave no hope, and the poor creature +died on Monday morning. The post mortem +examination, described by the surgeon, revealed +the cause of death in the blows at the +side of the head, which he said was like ‘beefsteaks +when beaten by cooks.’ No trace of +habitual drunkenness appeared. The deceased +had been, in the course of the inquiry, +charged with that.</p> + +<p class='c014'>A lawyer would have felt especially fidgetty, +while these facts were being elicited. The +questions were put in an undecided rambling +manner, and were so interrupted by half-made +remarks from the jurors and other parties in +the room, that it was a wonder how the +report of the proceedings, which appeared in +the morning newspapers, could have been so +cleverly cleared as it was of the chaff from +which it was winnowed. One or two circumstances +occurred during this time which tended +to throw over the whole affair the air of an +ill-played farce. At an interesting point of +the evidence, the door was opened, and a +scream from a female voice announced ‘Please +sir, the beadle’s wanted!’ There were four +gentlemen sitting on a horse-hair sofa close +behind some of the jury, with whom more +than once they entered into conversation, +doubtless about the case in hand. The way +in which the coroner took notice of this +breach of every judisprudential rule, was extremely +characteristic: he said, in effect, that +there was, perhaps, no actual harm in it, but +it <i>might</i> be objected to—the parties conversing +might be relatives of the accused. In fact, he +mildly insinuated that such unprivileged communications +might warp the jurymen’s judgments—that’s +all!</p> + +<p class='c014'>After the coroner had summed up, the jury +returned a verdict of manslaughter against +the husband. The Queen’s representative +then retired, and so did the jury and the +beadle; a little extra business was done at the +bar of the ‘Two Spies,’ and, to use a reporter’s +pet phrase, ‘the proceedings terminated.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>It is far from our desire, in describing this +particular inquest, in any way to disparage—supposing +anything we have said can be construed +into disparagement—any person or +persons concerned in it directly or remotely. +Our wish is to point out the exceeding looseness, +informality, and difficulty of ensuring +sound judgment, which the system occasions. +Indeed we were told by a competent authority +that the proceedings at the Old Drury and +‘Two Spies’ taverns, formed an orderly and +superior specimen of their class.</p> + +<p class='c014'>There is a mischief of some gravity, which +we have yet to notice. The essential check +upon all judicial or private dereliction is publicity, +and publicity gained through the press +in <i>all</i> cases which require it; but the existing +system gives the coroner the power of excluding +reporters. He can, if he pleases, make +a Star Chamber of his court, hold it in a private +house, and conduct it in secret. Instances—though +very rare ones—can be adduced of this +having been actually done. Here opens a +door to another abuse;—it is known that a +certain few among newspaper hangers-on—persons +only connected with the press by the +precarious and slender tenure of ‘a penny-a-line’—find +it profitable to attend inquests—not +for legitimate purposes—for their +‘copy’ is seldom inserted by editors—but +to obtain money from relatives and parties +interested in the deceased for what +they are pleased to call ‘suppressing’ their +reports. This generally happens in cases which +from their having no public interest whatever +would not, under any circumstances, be admitted +into the crowded columns of the +journals; for we can with confidence say that +any case in which the public interests are +likely to be staked, once before the editors of +any London Journal, and supplied by a gentleman +of their own establishment, no power on +earth could suppress it. It has happened +again occasionally that, from the suddenness +with which the coroner is summoned, and +the slovenly manner in which his office is +performed, an inquest that ought to have +been made public has wholly escaped the +knowledge of newspaper conductors and +their accredited reporters, and has thus +passed over in silence.</p> + +<p class='c014'>Let us here put up another guard against +misconception. No imputation <i>can</i> rest upon +any accredited member of the press; the high +state dignities which some men who have been +reporters now so well support, are a guarantee +against that. Neither do we wish to undervalue +the important services sometimes performed +by occasional or ‘penny-a-line’ reporters; +among whom there are honourable +and clever men. We only point out a small +body of exceptional characters who are no more +than what we have described—‘hangers-on’ +of the press.</p> + +<p class='c014'>We now proceed to suggest a remedy for +the inherent vices of ‘Crowner’s quests.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>In the report of the Board of Health on +intramural interments, upon which a bill now +before Parliament is founded, it is proposed +to erect in convenient parts of London eight +reception-houses for the dead, previous to interment +<span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>in the cemeteries to be established. +This will remove the mortal remains from that +immediate and fatal contact—fatal, morally as +well as physically—which is compulsory +among the poorer classes under the existing +system of sepulture. It appears that of the +deaths which take place in the metropolis, in +upwards of 20,000 instances the corpse must +be kept, during the interval between the death +and the interment, in the same room in which +the surviving members of the family live and +sleep; while of the 8,000 deaths every year +from epidemic diseases, by far the greater part +happen under the circumstances just described.</p> + +<p class='c014'>If from these causes the necessity for dead-houses +is so great when no inquest is necessary, +how much stronger is it when the +services of the coroner are requisite? The +reason given for the peripatetic nature of the +office, is the assumed necessity of the jury +seeing the bodies on the spot and in the circumstances +of death. But that such a necessity +is unreal was proved on the inquest we +have been detailing, by the fact of the remains +having been lifted from the bed where life +ceased, to a table, and having been opened by +the surgeons. Surely, removal to a wholesome +and convenient reception-house, would not +disturb such appearances as may be presumed +to form evidence. As it is, the only place +among the poor in which medical men can +perform the important duty of examination by +<i>post mortem</i> dissection is a room crowded with +inmates—or the tap-room of the nearest tavern.</p> + +<p class='c014'>To preserve, then, a degree of order, dignity, +and solemnity equal at least to that which +is maintained to try an action for debt, and +to prevent the possibility of any ‘private’ +dealings, we would strongly urge that a suitable +Coroner’s Court-house be attached to +each of the proposed reception-houses. A +clause to this effect can be easily introduced +into the new bill. With such accommodation +the coroner could perform his office in a +manner worthy of a delegate of the Crown, +and no such informalities as tend to intercept +and taint the pure stream of Justice could continue +to exist.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>FRANCIS JEFFREY.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c011'><span class='sc'>Jeffrey</span> was a year younger than <span class='sc'>Scott</span>, +whom he outlived eighteen years, and with +whose career his own had some points of +resemblance. They came of the same middle-class +stock, and had played together as lads +in the High School ‘yard’ before they met as +advocates in the Court of Session. The fathers +of both were connected with that Court; and +from childhood, both were devoted to the law. +But Scott’s boyish infirmity imprisoned him +in Edinburgh, while Jeffrey was let loose to +Glasgow University, and afterwards passed up +to Queen’s College, Oxford. The boys, thus +separated, had no remembrance of having previously +met, when they saw each other at the +Speculative Society in 1791.</p> + +<p class='c014'>The Oxford of that day suited Jeffrey ill. +It suited few people well who cared for anything +but cards and claret. Southey, who +came just after him, tells us that the Greek he +took there he left there, nor ever passed such +unprofitable months; and Lord Malmesbury, +who had been there but a little time before +him, wonders how it was that so many men +should make their way in the world creditably, +after leaving a place that taught nothing but +idleness and drunkenness. But Jeffrey was +not long exposed to its temptations. He left +after the brief residence of a single term; and +what in after life he remembered most vividly +in connection with it, seems to have been the +twelve days’ hard travelling between Edinburgh +and London which preceded his entrance +at Queen’s. Some seventy years before, +another Scotch lad, on his way to become yet +more famous in literature and law, had taken +nearly as many weeks to perform the same +journey; but, between the schooldays of +Mansfield and of Jeffrey, the world had not +been resting.</p> + +<p class='c014'>It was enacting its greatest modern incident, +the first French Revolution, when the +young Scotch student returned to Edinburgh +and changed his College gown for that of the +advocate. Scott had the start of him in the +Court of Session by two years, and had become +rather active and distinguished in the Speculative +Society before Jeffrey joined it. When the +latter, then a lad of nineteen, was introduced, +(one evening in 1791), he observed a heavy-looking +young man officiating as secretary, +who sat solemnly at the bottom of the table +in a huge woollen night-cap, and who, before +the business of the night began, rose from his +chair, and, with imperturbable gravity seated +on as much of his face as was discernible from +the wrappings of the ‘portentous machine’ +that enveloped it, apologised for having left +home with a bad toothache. This was his +quondam schoolfellow Scott. Perhaps Jeffrey +was pleased with the mingled enthusiasm +for the speculative, and regard for the practical, +implied in the woollen night-cap; or +perhaps he was interested by the Essay on +Ballads which the hero of the night-cap read +in the course of the evening: but before he +left the meeting he sought an introduction +to Mr. Walter Scott, and they were very +intimate for many years afterwards.</p> + +<p class='c014'>The Speculative Society dealt with the +usual subjects of elocution and debate prevalent +in similar places then and since; such as, +whether there ought to be an Established Religion, +and whether the Execution of Charles I. +was justifiable, and if Ossian’s poems were authentic? +It was not a fraternity of speculators +by any means of an alarming or dangerous sort. +John Allen and his friends, at this very time, +were spouting forth active sympathy for +French Republicanism at Fortune’s Tavern, +under immediate and watchful superintendence +of the Police; James Macintosh was +parading the streets with Horne Tooke’s +<span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>colours in his hat; James Montgomery was +expiating in York Jail his exulting ballad +on the Fall of the Bastille; and Southey +and Coleridge, in despair of old England, +had completed the arrangements of their +youthful colony for a community of property, +and proscription of everything selfish, on the +banks of the Susquehana;—but the Speculative +orators rarely probed the sores of the +body politic deeper than an inquiry into the +practical advantages of belief in a future +state? and whether it was for the interest of +Britain to maintain the balance of Europe? or +if knowledge could be too much disseminated +among the lower ranks of the people?</p> + +<p class='c014'>In short, nothing of the extravagance +of the time, on either side, is associable +with the outset of Jeffrey’s career. As little +does he seem to have been influenced, on +the one hand, by the democratic foray of some +two hundred convention delegates into Edinburgh +in 1792, as, on the other, by the prominence +of his father’s name to a protest of +frantic high-tory defiance; and he was justified +not many years since in referring with pride to +the fact that, at the opening of his public life, +his view of the character of the first French +revolution, and of its probable influence on +other countries, had been such as to require +little modification during the whole of his subsequent +career. The precision and accuracy +of his judgment had begun to show itself +thus early. At the crude young Jacobins, +so soon to ripen into Quarterly Reviewers, +who were just now coquetting with Mary +Woolstonecraft, or making love to the ghost +of Madame Roland, or branding as worthy of +the bowstring the tyrannical enormities of +Mr. Pitt, he could afford to laugh from the +first. From the very first he had the strongest +liberal tendencies, but restrained them so +wisely that he could cultivate them well.</p> + +<p class='c014'>He joined the band of youths who then sat +at the feet of Dugald Stewart, and whose first +incentive to distinction in the more difficult +paths of knowledge, as well as their almost +universal adoption of the liberal school of +politics, are in some degree attributable to the +teaching of that distinguished man. Among +them were Brougham and Horner, who had +played together from boyhood in Edinburgh +streets, had joined the Speculative on the same +evening six years after Jeffrey (who in +Brougham soon found a sharp opponent on +colonial and other matters), and were still +fast friends. Jeffrey’s father, raised to a deputy +clerk of session, now lived on a third or +fourth flat in Buchanan’s Court in the Lawn +Market, where the worthy old gentleman +kept two women servants and a man at +livery; but where the furniture does not +seem to have been of the soundest. This +fact his son used to illustrate by an anecdote +of the old gentleman eagerly setting-to at +a favourite dinner one day, with the two +corners of the table cloth tied round his neck +to protect his immense professional frills, +when the leg of his chair gave way, and he +tumbled back on the floor with all the dishes, +sauces, and viands a-top of him. Father and +son lived here together, till the latter took for +his first wife the daughter of the Professor of +Hebrew in the University of St. Andrew, and +moved to an upper story in another part of +town. He had been called to the bar in 1794, +and was married eight years afterward. He +had not meanwhile obtained much practice, +and the elevation implied in removal to an +upper flat is not of the kind that a young +Benedict covets. But distinction of another +kind was at length at hand.</p> + +<p class='c014'>One day early in 1802, ‘in the eighth or +ninth story or flat in Buccleugh Place, the +elevated residence of the then Mr. Jeffrey,’ +Mr. Jeffrey had received a visit from Horner +and Sydney Smith, when Sydney, at this time +a young English curate temporarily resident +in Edinburgh, preaching, teaching, and joking +with a flow of wit, humanity, and sense that +fascinated everybody, started the notion of the +Edinburgh Review. The two Scotchmen +at once voted the Englishman its editor, +and the notion was communicated to John +Archibald Murray (Lord Advocate after +Jeffrey, long years afterward), John Allen +(then lecturing on medical subjects at the +University, but who went abroad before he +could render any essential service), and +Alexander Hamilton (afterwards Sanscrit +professor at Haileybury). This was the first +council; but it was extended, after a few +days, till the two Thomsons (John and +Thomas, the physician and the advocate), +Thomas Brown (who succeeded to Dugald +Stewart’s chair), and Henry Brougham, were +admitted to the deliberations. Horner’s +quondam playfellow was an ally too potent to +be obtained without trouble; and, even thus +early, had not a few characteristics in common +with the Roman statesman and orator whom +it was his greatest ambition in after life to +resemble, and of whom Shakspeare has told +us that he never followed anything that other +men began.</p> + +<p class='c014'>‘You remember how cheerfully Brougham +approved of our plan at first,’ wrote Jeffrey +to Horner, in April, in the thick of anxious +preparations for the start, ‘and agreed to +give us an article or two without hesitation. +Three or four days ago I proposed two or three +books that I thought would suit him; when +he answered, with perfect good humour, that +he had changed his view of our plan a little, +and rather thought now that he should +decline to have any connection with it.’ This +little coquetry was nevertheless overcome; +and before the next six months were over, +Brougham had become an efficient and zealous +member of the band.</p> + +<p class='c014'>It is curious to see how the project hung fire at +first. Jeffrey had nearly finished four articles, +Horner had partly written four, and more +than half the number was printed; and yet +well nigh the other half had still to be written. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>The memorable fasciculus at last appeared in +November, after a somewhat tedious gestation +of nearly ten months; having been subject to +what Jeffrey calls so ‘miserable a state of +backwardness’ and so many ‘symptoms of +despondency,’ that Constable had to delay the +publication some weeks beyond the day first +fixed. Yet as early as April had Sydney Smith +completed more than half of what he contributed, +while nobody else had put pen to +paper; and shortly after the number appeared +he was probably not sorry to be summoned, +with his easy pen and his cheerful wit, to +London, and to abandon the cares of editorship +to Jeffrey.</p> + +<p class='c014'>No other choice could have been made. +That first number settled the point. It is +easy to discover that Jeffrey’s estimation in +Edinburgh had not, up to this time, been in any +just proportion to his powers; and that, even +with those who knew him best, his playful +and sportive fancy sparkled too much to the +surface of his talk to let them see the grave +deep currents that ran underneath. Every one +now read with surprise the articles attributed +to him. Sydney had yielded him the place of +honour, and he had vindicated his right to it. +He had thrown out a new and forcible style +of criticism, with a fearless, unmisgiving, +and unhesitating courage. Objectors might +doubt or cavil at the opinions expressed; but +the various and comprehensive knowledge, +the subtle argumentative genius, the brilliant +and definite expression, there was no disputing +or denying. A fresh and startling power was +about to make itself felt in literature.</p> + +<p class='c014'>‘Jeffrey,’ said his most generous fellow +labourer, a few days after the Review appeared, +‘is the person who will derive most +honour from this publication, as his articles +in this number are generally known, and are +incomparably the best; I have received the +greater pleasure from this circumstance, because +the genius of that little man has remained +almost unknown to all but his most +intimate acquaintances. His manner is not +at first pleasing; what is worse, it is of that +cast which almost irresistibly impresses upon +strangers the idea of levity and superficial +talents. Yet there is not any man, whose +real character is so much the reverse; he has, +indeed, a very sportive and playful fancy, but +it is accompanied with an extensive and varied +information, with a readiness of apprehension +almost intuitive, with judicious and calm +discernment, with a profound and penetrating +understanding.’ This confident passage from +a private journal of the 20th November, 1802, +may stand as a remarkable monument of the +prescience of Francis Horner.</p> + +<p class='c014'>Yet it was also the opinion of this candid +and sagacious man that he and his fellows +had not gained much character by that first +number of the Review. As a set-off to the +talents exhibited, he spoke of the severity—of +what, in some of the papers, might be called +the scurrility—as having given general dissatisfaction; +and he predicted that they would +have to soften their tone, and be more indulgent +to folly and bad taste. Perhaps it is +hardly thus that the objection should have +been expressed. It is now, after the lapse of +nearly half a century, admitted on all hands +that the tone adopted by these young Edinburgh +reviewers was in some respects extremely +indiscreet; and that it was not simply +folly and bad taste, but originality and genius, +that had the right to more indulgence at their +hands. When Lord Jeffrey lately collected Mr. +Jeffrey’s critical articles, he silently dropped +those very specimens of his power which by +their boldness of view, severity of remark, and +vivacity of expression, would still as of old +have attracted the greatest notice; and preferred +to connect with his name, in the regard +of such as might hereafter take interest in +his writings, only those papers which, by enforcing +what appeared to him just principles +and useful opinions, he hoped might have a +tendency to make men happier and better. +Somebody said by way of compliment of the +early days of the Scotch Review, that it +made reviewing more respectable than authorship; +and the remark, though essentially +the reverse of a compliment, exhibits with +tolerable accuracy the general design of the +work at its outset. Its ardent young reviewers +took a somewhat too ambitious stand +above the literature they criticised. ‘To all +of us,’ Horner ingenuously confessed, ‘it is +only matter of temporary amusement and +subordinate occupation.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>Something of the same notion was in Scott’s +thoughts when, smarting from a severe but +not unjust or ungenerous review of Marmion, +he said that Jeffrey loved to see imagination +best when it is bitted and managed, and ridden +upon the <i>grand pas</i>. He did not make sufficient +allowance for starts and sallies and bounds, +when Pegasus was beautiful to behold, though +sometimes perilous to his rider. He would have +had control of horse as well as rider, Scott complained, +and made himself master of the ménage +to both. But on the other hand this was +often very possible; and nothing could then be +conceived more charming than the earnest, +playful, delightful way in which his comments +adorned and enriched the poets he admired. +Hogarth is not happier in Charles Lamb’s company, +than is the homely vigour and genius of +Crabbe under Jeffrey’s friendly leading; he returned +fancy for fancy to Moore’s exuberance, +and sparkled with a wit as keen; he ‘tamed +his wild heart’ to the loving thoughtfulness +of Rogers, his scholarly enthusiasm, his +pure and vivid pictures; with the fiery +energy and passionate exuberance of Byron, +his bright courageous spirit broke into +earnest sympathy; for the clear and stirring +strains of Campbell he had an ever lively and +liberal response; and Scott, in the midst of +many temptations to the exercise of severity, +never ceased to awaken the romance and +generosity of his nature.</p> + +<p class='c014'><span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>His own idea of the more grave critical +claims put forth by him in his early days, found +expression in later life. He had constantly +endeavoured, he said, to combine ethical precepts +with literary criticism. He had earnestly +sought to impress his readers with a sense, +both of the close connection between sound +intellectual attainments, and the higher elements +of duty and enjoyment; and of the just +and ultimate subordination of the former to +the latter. Nor without good reason did +he take this praise to himself. The taste +which Dugald Stewart had implanted in +him, governed him more than any other at +the outset of his career; and may often +have contributed not a little, though quite +unconsciously, to lift the aspiring young metaphysician +somewhat too ambitiously above +the level of the luckless author summoned +to his judgment seat. Before the third +year of the review had opened, he had +broken a spear in the lists of metaphysical +philosophy even with his old tutor, and with +Jeremy Bentham, both in the maturity of their +fame; he had assailed, with equal gallantry, +the opposite errors of Priestley and Reid; +and, not many years later, he invited his +friend Alison to a friendly contest, from +which the fancies of that amiable man came +out dulled by a superior brightness, by more +lively, varied, and animated conceptions of +beauty, and by a style which recommended a +more than Scotch soberness of doctrine with +a more than French vivacity of expression.</p> + +<p class='c014'>For it is to be said of Jeffrey, that when he +opposed himself to enthusiasm, he did so in +the spirit of an enthusiast; and that this had a +tendency to correct such critical mistakes as +he may occasionally have committed. And as +of him, so of his Review. In professing to go +deeply into the <i>principles</i> on which its judgments +were to be rested, as well as to take +large and original views of all the important +questions to which those works might relate,—it +substantially succeeded, as Jeffrey presumed +to think it had done, in familiarising the public +mind with higher speculations, and sounder +and larger views of the great objects of human +pursuit; as well as in permanently raising the +standard, and increasing the influence, of all +such occasional writings far beyond the limits +of Great Britain.</p> + +<p class='c014'>Nor let it be forgotten that the system on +which Jeffrey established relations between +his writers and publishers has been of the +highest value as a precedent in such matters, +and has protected the independence and +dignity of a later race of reviewers. He +would never receive an unpaid-for contribution. +He declined to make it the interest of +the proprietors to prefer a certain class of +contributors. The payment was ten guineas a +sheet at first, and rose gradually to double +that sum, with increase on special occasions; +and even when rank or other circumstances +made remuneration a matter of perfect indifference, +Jeffrey insisted that it should nevertheless +be received. The Czar Peter, when +working in the trenches, he was wont to say, +received pay as a common soldier. Another +principle which he rigidly carried out, was that +of a thorough independence of publishing interests. +The Edinburgh Review was never +made in any manner tributary to particular +bookselling schemes. It assailed or supported +with equal vehemence or heartiness the productions +of Albemarle-street and Paternoster-row. +‘I never asked such a thing of him but +once,’ said the late Mr. Constable, describing +an attempt to obtain a favourable notice from +his obdurate Editor, ‘and I assure you the +result was no encouragement to repeat such +petitions.’ The book was Scott’s edition of +Swift; and the result one of the bitterest +attacks on the popularity of Swift, in one of +Jeffrey’s most masterly criticisms.</p> + +<p class='c014'>He was the better able thus to carry his +point, because against more potent influences +he had already taken a decisive stand. +It was not till six years after the Review +was started that Scott remonstrated with +Jeffrey on the virulence of its party politics. +But much earlier even than this, the principal +proprietors had made the same complaint; +had pushed their objections to the contemplation +of Jeffrey’s surrender of the editorship; +and had opened negotiations with writers +known to be bitterly opposed to him. To his +honour, Southey declined these overtures, and +advised a compromise of the dispute. Some +of the leading Whigs themselves were discontented, +and Horner had appealed to him from +the library of Holland House. Nevertheless, +Jeffrey stood firm. He carried the day +against Paternoster-row, and unassailably established +the all-important principle of a +perfect independence of his publishers’ control. +He stood as resolute against his friend +Scott; protesting that on one leg, and the +weakest, the Review could not and should not +stand, for that its <i>right leg</i> he knew to be +politics. To Horner he replied by carrying +the war into the Holland House country with +inimitable spirit and cogency. ‘Do, for +Heaven’s sake, let your Whigs do something +popular and effective this session. Don’t you +see the nation is now divided into two, and +only two parties; and that <i>between</i> these stand +the Whigs, utterly inefficient, and incapable +of ever becoming efficient, if they will still +maintain themselves at an equal distance from +both. You must lay aside a great part of +your aristocratic feelings, and side with the +most respectable and sane of the democrats.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>The vigorous wisdom of the advice was +amply proved by subsequent events, and +its courage nobody will doubt who knows +anything of what Scotland was at the time. +In office, if not in intellect, the Tories were +supreme. A single one of the Dundases +named the sixteen Scots peers, and forty-three +of the Scots commoners; nor was it an impossible +farce, that the sheriff of a county +should be the only freeholder present at the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>election of a member to represent it in +Parliament, should as freeholder vote himself +chairman, should as chairman receive the +oaths and the writ from himself as sheriff, +should as chairman and sheriff sign them, +should propose himself as candidate, declare +himself elected, dictate and sign the minutes +of election, make the necessary indenture between +the various parties represented solely +by himself, transmit it to the Crown-office, +and take his seat by the same night’s mail to +vote with Mr. Addington! We must recollect +such things, when we would really understand +the services of such men as Jeffrey. We +must remember the evil and injustice he so +strenuously laboured to remove, and the cost +at which his labour was given. We must +bear in mind that he had to face day by day, +in the exercise of his profession, the very men +most interested in the abuses actively assailed, +and keenly resolved as far as possible to disturb +and discredit their assailant. ‘Oh, Mr. +Smith,’ said Lord Stowell to Sydney, ‘you +would have been a much richer man if you +had come over to us!’ This was in effect the +sort of thing said to Jeffrey daily in the Court +of Session, and disregarded with generous +scorn. What it is to an advocate to be on the +deaf side of ‘the ear of the Court,’ none but +an advocate can know; and this, with Jeffrey, +was the twenty-five years’ penalty imposed +upon him for desiring to see the Catholics +emancipated, the consciences of dissenters +relieved, the barbarism of jurisprudence mitigated, +and the trade in human souls abolished.</p> + +<p class='c014'>The Scotch Tories died hard. Worsted in +fair fight they resorted to foul; and among +the publications avowedly established for +personal slander of their adversaries, a preeminence +so infamous was obtained by the +Beacon, that it disgraced the cause irretrievably. +Against this malignant libeller Jeffrey +rose in the Court of Session again and again, +and the result of its last prosecution showed +the power of the party represented by it +thoroughly broken. The successful advocate, +at length triumphant even in that Court +over the memory of his talents and virtues +elsewhere, had now forced himself into the +front rank of his profession; and they who +listened to his advocacy found it even more +marvellous than his criticism, for power, +versatility, and variety. Such rapidity yet +precision of thought, such volubility yet clearness +of utterance, left all competitors behind. +Hardly any subject could be so indifferent or +uninviting, that this teeming and fertile intellect +did not surround it with a thousand graces +of allusion, illustration, and fanciful expression. +He might have suggested Butler’s hero,</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in6'>‘—who could not ope</div> + <div class='line'>His mouth but out there flew a trope,’</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c015'>with the difference that each trope flew to its +proper mark, each fancy found its place in the +dazzling profusion, and he could at all times, +with a charming and instinctive ease, put the +nicest restraints and checks on his glowing +velocity of declamation. A worthy Glasgow +baillie, smarting under an adverse verdict obtained +by these facilities of speech, could find +nothing so bitter to advance against the speaker +as a calculation made with the help of Johnson’s +Dictionary, to the effect that Mr. Jeffrey, +in the course of a few hours, had spoken the +whole English language twice over!</p> + +<p class='c014'>But the Glasgow baillie made little impression +on his fellow citizens; and from Glasgow +came the first public tribute to Jeffrey’s +now achieved position, and legal as well as literary +fame. He was elected Lord Rector of +the University in 1821 and 1822. Some seven +or eight years previously he had married the +accomplished lady who survives him, a grandniece +of the celebrated Wilkes; and had purchased +the lease of the villa near Edinburgh +which he occupied to the time of his death, +and whose romantic woods and grounds will +long be associated with his name. At each +step of his career a new distinction now +awaited him, and with every new occasion +his unflagging energies seemed to rise and +expand. He never wrote with such masterly +success for his Review as when his whole time +appeared to be occupied with criminal prosecutions, +with contested elections, with journeyings +from place to place, with examinings and +cross-examinings, with speeches, addresses, +exhortations, denunciations. In all conditions +and on all occasions, a very atmosphere +of activity was around him. Even as +he sat, apparently still, waiting to address a +jury or amaze a witness, it made a slow man +nervous to look at him. Such a flush of +energy vibrated through that delicate frame, +such rapid and never ceasing thought played +on those thin lips, such restless flashes of +light broke from those kindling eyes. You +continued to look at him, till his very silence +acted as a spell; and it ceased to be difficult +to associate with his small but well-knit figure +even the giant-like labours and exertions of +this part of his astonishing career.</p> + +<p class='c014'>At length, in 1829, he was elected Dean of +the Faculty of Advocates; and thinking it unbecoming +that the official head of a great law +corporation should continue the editing of a +party organ, he surrendered the management +of the Edinburgh Review. In the year following, +he took office with the Whigs as Lord +Advocate, and replaced Sir James Scarlett in +Lord Fitzwilliam’s borough of Malton. In +the next memorable year he contested his +native city against a Dundas; not succeeding in +his election, but dealing the last heavy blow to +his opponent’s sinking dynasty. Subsequently +he took his seat as Member for Perth, introduced +and carried the Scotch Reform bill, and +in the December of 1832 was declared member +for Edinburgh. He had some great sorrows at +this time to check and alloy his triumphs. Probably +no man had gone through a life of eager +conflict and active antagonism with a heart +so sensitive to the gentler emotions, and the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>deaths of Macintosh and Scott affected him +deeply. He had had occasion, during the illness +of the latter, to allude to him in the +House of Commons; and he did this with so +much beauty and delicacy, with such manly +admiration of the genius and modest deference +to the opinions of his great Tory +friend, that Sir Robert Peel made a journey +across the floor of the house to thank him +cordially for it.</p> + +<p class='c014'>The House of Commons nevertheless was +not his natural element, and when, in 1834, a +vacancy in the Court of Session invited him to +his due promotion, he gladly accepted the dignified +and honourable office so nobly earned +by his labours and services. He was in his +sixty-second year at the time of his appointment, +and he continued for nearly sixteen +years the chief ornament of the Court in +which he sat. In former days the judgment-seats +in Scotland had not been unused +to the graces of literature: but in Jeffrey these +were combined with an acute and profound +knowledge of law less usual in that connection; +and also with such a charm of demeanour, +such a play of fancy and wit sobered to the +kindliest courtesies, such clear sagacity, perfect +freedom from bias, consideration for all +differences of opinion; and integrity, independence, +and broad comprehensiveness of +view in maintaining his own; that there has +never been but one feeling as to his judicial +career. Universal veneration and respect attended +it. The speculative studies of his youth +had done much to soften all the asperities of his +varied and vigorous life, and now, at its close, +they gave to his judgments a large reflectiveness +of tone, a moral beauty of feeling, and a +philosophy of charity and good taste, which +have left to his successors in that Court of +Session no nobler models for imitation and +example. Impatience of dulness <i>would</i> break +from him, now and then; and the still busy +activity of his mind might be seen as he rose +often suddenly from his seat, and paced up +and down before it; but in his charges or +decisions nothing of this feeling was perceptible, +except that lightness and grace of expression +in which his youth seemed to linger +to the last, and a quick sensibility to emotion +and enjoyment which half concealed the +ravages of time.</p> + +<p class='c014'>If such was the public estimation of this +great and amiable man, to the very termination +of his useful life, what language should +describe the charm of his influence in his +private and domestic circle? The affectionate +pride with which every citizen of Edinburgh +regarded him rose here to a kind of idolatry. +For here the whole man was known—his kind +heart, his open hand, his genial talk, his ready +sympathy, his generous encouragement and +assistance to all that needed it. The first +passion of his life was its last, and never was +the love of literature so bright within him as +at the brink of the grave. What dims and +deadens the impressibility of most men, had +rendered his not only more acute and fresh, +but more tributary to calm satisfaction, and +pure enjoyment. He did not live merely +in the past, as age is wont to do, but drew +delight from every present manifestation of +worth or genius, from whatever quarter it +addressed him. His vivid pleasure where his +interest was awakened, his alacrity and eagerness +of appreciation, the fervour of his encouragement +and praise, have animated the +hopes and relieved the toil alike of the successful +and the unsuccessful, who cannot +hope, through whatever chequered future may +await them, to find a more generous critic, +a more profound adviser, a more indulgent +friend.</p> + +<p class='c014'>The present year opened upon Francis +Jeffrey with all hopeful promise. He had +mastered a severe illness, and resumed his +duties with his accustomed cheerfulness; private +circumstances had more than ordinarily +interested him in his old Review; and the +memory of past friends, giving yet greater +strength to the affection that surrounded him, +was busy at his heart. ‘God bless you!’ he +wrote to Sydney Smith’s widow on the night of +the 18th of January; ‘I am very old, and have +many infirmities; but I am tenacious of old +friendships, and find much of my present enjoyments +in the recollections of the past.’ He +sat in Court the next day, and on the Monday +and Tuesday of the following week, with his +faculties and attention unimpaired. On the +Wednesday he had a slight attack of bronchitis; +on Friday, symptoms of danger appeared; and +on Saturday he died, peacefully and without +pain. Few men had completed with such +consummate success the work appointed them +in this world; few men had passed away to a +better with more assured hopes of their reward. +The recollection of his virtues sanctifies his +fame; and his genius will never cease to +awaken the gratitude, respect, and pride of +his countrymen.</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c1'> +<div class='nf-center c016'> + <div><span class='sc'>Hail and Farewell!</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>THE YOUNG JEW OF TUNIS.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c011'>People are glad to be assured that an +interesting story is true. The following history +was communicated to the writer by a +friend, residing in the East, who had it from +the French Consul himself. It reminds one +of the Arabian Nights.</p> + +<p class='c014'>In the year 1836, a Jewish family residing +in Algiers were plunged in the greatest distress +by the death of the father. A son, two +daughters, and a mother were by this calamity +left almost destitute. After the funeral, the +son, whose name was Ibrahim, sold what +little property there was to realise and gave it +to his mother and sisters; after which, commending +them to the charity of a distant relative, +he left Algiers and departed for Tunis, +hoping that if he did not find his fortune, he +would at least make a livelihood there.</p> + +<p class='c014'>He presented himself to the French Consul +<span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>with his papers, and requested a license as a +donkey-driver. This was granted, and Ibrahim +entered the service of a man who let +out asses, both for carrying water and for hire.</p> + +<p class='c014'>Ibrahim was extremely handsome and very +graceful in his demeanour; but, being so poor, +his clothes were too ragged for him to be employed +on anything but drudgery that was +out of sight. He used to be sent with water-skins +to the meanest parts of the town.</p> + +<p class='c014'>One day, as he was driving his ass +laden with water up a narrow street, he met +a cavalcade of women riding (as usual in +that country) upon donkeys covered with +sumptuous housings. He drew on one side +to allow them to pass by, but a string of +camels coming up at the same instant, there +ensued some confusion. The veil of one of +the women became slightly deranged, and +Ibrahim caught sight of a lovely countenance.</p> + +<p class='c014'>He contrived to ascertain who the lady was +and where she lived. She was Rebecca, the +only daughter of a wealthy Jew.</p> + +<p class='c014'>From this time, Ibrahim had but one +thought; that of becoming rich enough to +demand Rebecca in marriage. He had +already saved up a few pieces of money; +with these he bought himself better clothes, +and he was now sometimes sent to conduct +the donkeys hired out for riding.</p> + +<p class='c014'>It so chanced, that one of his first expeditions +was to take Rebecca and her attendants +to a mercer’s shop. Either from accident or +coquetry, Rebecca’s veil became again deranged, +and again Ibrahim beheld the heavenly +face beneath it. Ibrahim’s appearance, +and his look of burning passionate love, did not +displease the young Jewess. He frequently +attended her on her excursions, and he was +often permitted to see beneath the veil.</p> + +<p class='c014'>Ibrahim deprived himself almost of the +necessaries of life, and at length saved enough +money to purchase an ass of his own. By +degrees he was able to buy more, and became +a master employing boys under him.</p> + +<p class='c014'>When he thought himself sufficiently well +off in the world, he presented himself before +the family of Rebecca, and demanded her in +marriage; but they did not consider his prospects +brilliant, and rejected his proposals with +contempt. Rebecca, however, sent her old +nurse to him (just as a lady in the ‘Arabian +Nights’ might have sent a similar messenger) +to let him know that the family contempt +was not shared by her.</p> + +<p class='c014'>Ibrahim was more determined than ever to +obtain her. He went to a magician, who +bade him return to Algiers, and declared that +if he accepted the <i>first</i> offer of any kind which +he should receive after entering the city, he +would become rich and obtain the desire of +his heart.</p> + +<p class='c014'>Ibrahim sold his asses and departed for +Algiers. He walked up and down the streets +till nightfall, in expectation of the mysterious +offer which had been foretold—but no one +came.</p> + +<p class='c014'>He had, however, been observed by a rich +widow, somewhat advanced in years, a Frenchwoman +and the widow of an officer of engineers. +She dispatched an attendant to discover +who he was and where he lived, and the +next day sent for him to her house. His +graceful address fascinated her even more +than his good looks, and she made him overtures +of marriage: offering at the same time +to settle upon him a handsome portion of her +wealth.</p> + +<p class='c014'>This was not precisely the mode in which +Ibrahim had intended to make his fortune; +but, he recollected the prediction of the magician, +and accepted the proposal.</p> + +<p class='c014'>They were married, and for twelve months +Ibrahim lived with his wife in great splendour +and apparent happiness. At the end of that +time he professed to be called to Tunis by indispensable +business, which would require his +presence for some time. His wife made no +opposition, though she was sorry to lose him, +and wished to accompany him; but that he +prohibited, and departed alone: taking with +him a good supply of money.</p> + +<p class='c014'>He again presented himself before the +French Consul at Tunis, who was surprised +at the change in his appearance. His vest of +flowered silk, brocaded with gold, was girded +round the waist by a Barbary sash of the +richest silk; his ample trowsers of fine cloth +were met by red morocco boots; a Cashmere +shawl of the most radiant colours was twisted +round his head; his beard, carefully trimmed, +fell half-way down his breast; a jewelled +dagger hung at his girdle; and an ample +Bournooz worn over all, gave an additional +grace to his appearance, while it served to +conceal his rich attire, which far exceeded the +license of the sad-coloured garments prescribed +by law to the Jews.</p> + +<p class='c014'>He lost no time in repairing to the house +of Rebecca. She was still unmarried, and +again he made his proposals; this time it was +with more success. He had all the appearance +of a man of high consideration; and the +riches which he half-negligently displayed, +took their due effect. He had enjoyed a good +character when he lived at Tunis before, and +they took it for granted that he had done +nothing to forfeit it. They asked no questions +how his riches had been obtained, but gave +him Rebecca in marriage.</p> + +<p class='c014'>At the end of six months, the French +Consul received inquiries from Algiers about +Ibrahim; his wife, it was said, had become +alarmed at his prolonged absence.</p> + +<p class='c014'>The Consul sent for Ibrahim, and told him +what he had heard. Ibrahim at first appeared +disturbed and afterwards indignant. He +denied in the strongest terms that he had +any other wife than Rebecca, but owned +that the woman in question had fallen in +love with him. He also denied that he had +given her any sort of legal claim upon him. +The French Consul was perplexed; Ibrahim’s +papers were all regular, he had always led +<span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>an exemplary life in Tunis, he denied his +marriage, and there was no proof of it.</p> + +<p class='c014'>Had Ibrahim retained the smallest presence +of mind, no harm could have befallen him. +In that land of polygamy, his two wives (even +though one were European) would have +caused little scandal. His domestic position +was somewhat complicated but by no means +desperate. On departing from the Consul’s +house, however, he would seem to have become +possessed by a strange panic not to be +explained by any rules of logic, and to have +gone mad straightway. His one idea was +that he was hurried on by destiny to—murder +Rebecca!</p> + +<p class='c014'>This miserable wretch, possessed by the fixed +idea of destroying Rebecca, made deliberate +preparations for carrying it into effect. But +with the strange fanaticism and superstition +which formed a main part of his character, and +which forms a part of many such characters in +those countries, he determined to give her a +chance for her life; for, he seems to have +thought in some confused, wild, mad, vain +way, that it might still be the will of Providence +that she should live.</p> + +<p class='c014'>He concerted measures with the captain of +a Greek vessel, whom he induced by heavy +bribes to enter into his views. He gave it +out that he was going to Algiers, to put an +end to the ridiculous report which had been +raised, and to destroy the claim which had +been set up by his pretended wife.</p> + +<p class='c014'>He embarked with Rebecca, without any +attendants, on board the Greek vessel, which +was bound for Algiers. Rebecca was taken +at once into the cabin, where her curiosity +was excited by a strange-looking black box +which stood at one end of it. The black box +was high and square, and large enough to +contain a person sitting upright. The lid was +thrown back; and she saw that the box was +lined with thick cotton cloth, and contained a +small brass pitcher full of water and a loaf of +bread. Whilst she was examining these things, +Ibrahim and the Captain entered; they neither +of them spoke one word; but, coming behind +her, Ibrahim placed his hand over her mouth, +and muffling her head in her veil, lifted her +into the box with the assistance of the captain, +and shut down the lid, which they securely +fastened. They then carried the box between +them upon deck, and lowered it over the side +of the vessel. The box had holes bored in +the lid; it was very strong; and so built as +to float like a boat.</p> + +<p class='c014'>The Greek vessel continued her course +towards Algiers. Either the crew had really +not noticed the strange proceedings of Ibrahim +and the Captain, or (which is more +probable) they were paid to be silent. It is +certain that they did not attempt to interfere.</p> + +<p class='c014'>The next morning, as a French steamer, the +Panama, was bearing towards Tunis, something +like the hull of a small vessel was seen +drifting about directly in their course. They +picked it up, as it floated athwart the steamer’s +bow; and were horrified to hear feeble cries +proceeding from the interior. Hastily breaking +it open, they found the unhappy Rebecca +nearly dead with fright and exhaustion. +When she was sufficiently recovered to speak, +she told the captain how she had come into +that strange condition, and he made all speed +on to Tunis.</p> + +<p class='c014'>The French Consul immediately dispatched +a swift sailing steamer to Algiers with Rebecca +and her nearest friends on board, bearing a +dispatch to the governor, containing a hasty +account of all these things. The steamer +arrived first. When the Greek vessel entered +the port, Ibrahim and the Captain were +ordered to follow the officer on guard, and in +a few moments Ibrahim stood face to face +with his victim. To render the complication +more complete, the French wife hearing that +a steamer from Tunis had arrived with dispatches, +went down to the governor’s house +to make inquiries after her husband.</p> + +<p class='c014'>At first, Ibrahim nearly fainted; but he +soon regained his insane self, and boldly confessed +his crime. Addressing himself to +Rebecca, he said:</p> + +<p class='c014'>‘I confided thee to the sea, for I thought it +might be the will of Providence to save thee! +If thou hadst died, it would have been Providence +that decreed thy fate, but thou art +saved, and I am destroyed.’</p> + +<p class='c014'>Both the wives wept bitterly. Their natural +jealousy of each other was merged into the +desire to save the fanatic from the consequence +of his madness. Rebecca attempted +to deny her former statement, and used great +intercession with her relatives to forego their +vengeance. The Frenchwoman made interest +with the authorities too, but it was all, +happily, in vain. The friends of Rebecca were +implacable and insisted on justice.</p> + +<p class='c014'>Ibrahim works now in the gallies at Toulon. +The captain is under punishment also. The +magician, it is to be feared, is practising his old +trade.</p> + +<p class='c014'>This is, perhaps, as strange an instance as +there is on record, of an audacious and besotted +transference of every responsibility to Providence. +As though Providence had left man +to work out nothing for himself! It is probable +that this selfish monomaniac made the +same pretext to his mind for basely marrying +the widow, whom he intended to desert. +There is no kind of impiety so monstrous as +this; and yet there is, perhaps, none encountered +so frequently, in one phase or other, in +many aspects of life.</p> + +<hr class='c017'> + +<div class='nf-center-c1'> +<div class='nf-center c016'> + <div><span class='small'><i>To be Published Monthly, with the Magazines,</i></span></div> + <div><span class='small'><i>Price 2d., or Stamped, 3d.,</i></span></div> + <div class='c018'><span class='large'>THE HOUSEHOLD NARRATIVE</span></div> + <div class='c018'><span class='small'>OF</span></div> + <div class='c018'>CURRENT EVENTS.</div> + <div class='c018'><span class='small'>CONDUCTED</span></div> + <div class='c018'><span class='large'><span class='sc'>By</span> CHARLES DICKENS.</span></div> + <div class='c018'><span class='small'>BEING</span></div> + <div class='c018'>A Monthly Supplement to ‘HOUSEHOLD WORDS.’</div> + <div class='c001'><span class='small'>Published at the Office, No. 16, Wellington Street North, Strand. Printed by <span class='sc'>Bradbury & Evans</span>, Whitefriars, London.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c018'> +</div> +<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker'> + +<div class='chapter ph2'> + +<div class='nf-center-c1'> +<div class='nf-center c019'> + <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + + <ul class='ul_1 c001'> + <li>Fixed typos; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. + + </li> + <li>Renumbered footnotes. + </li> + </ul> + +</div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78168 ***</div> + </body> + <!-- created with ppgen.py 3.57i (with regex) on 2026-02-01 20:29:49 GMT --> +</html> diff --git a/78168-h/images/cover.jpg b/78168-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4263056 --- /dev/null +++ b/78168-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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