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+*** 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 ***